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idesofrevolution · 1 year

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My Best Friend, the Ghost

It was the best feeling in the world. Picture this: a simple spread of the legs in the summer heat, sweat dripping from your forehead. You feel a cool, slick touch slide down your inner thigh. It feels almost slimy, though it leaves no residue as it inches toward your taint and ever closer to your rear. You gasp as it circles the tight hole, as if an expert were rimming you with their cold, wet tongue. Then, quickly, a gentle thrust. You feel it enter you, slithering slowly, intentionally. It begins to fill you, that frosty ooze spreading all throughout your body. Your breath is laboured, as you begin to contort and expand as it is overtaken, washed and inundated with this foreign substance bubbling beneath your skin. It pushes up your throat, choking you, taking the last of your breath away before it presses at the top palate of your mouth. It would feel almost like drowning, though your sensations only fire endorphin after endorphin of euphoria. Pressure builds as it presses harder and harder, until... pop. The hard palate gives way as it rushes and balloons into your head. Thoughts and stresses fade away, and you're left in a state of total ecstasy as your body begins to move on its own.

Fuckin' amazing, am I right? Well, guess what? I get that incomprehensible experience whenever the hell I want. Perks of living in a haunted apartment! Confused? Let me explain.

I moved to New Orleans a year ago, give or take a couple of months. I graduated college, and after testing out a couple of places that didn't really pan out for me, I landed in the cement swamp in the height of the summer. I'd just left Salt Lake City, so coming from the tepid air of Utah to the brick wall humidity of Louisiana was a lot. Yet, I was determined to make the best of this one. I'd secured a low-level office gig at a non-profit, and rented out a cheap two bedroom just outside the French Quarter. The house was one of those old shotgun-style places. It wasn't well maintained, frankly incomprehensibly so to be up to purpose for a tenant, though I was still paying an arm and a leg.

The first few nights, I didn't sleep super well. It was hot, I was sleeping on a hard air mattress, and the tall ceilings and old wooden floors made every little creak and groan of the house sound like some demonic entity moaning in the darkness just out of sight. At the time, I was resolved to believe such a rational theory. After all, ghosts aren't real. That recent college graduate sensibility: anything can be rationalized. Looking back, I scoff at what I thought I knew compared to what I know now. But that skeptic within me was what I relied on. It got me through my courses, it got me my job, it is what guided me through the insanity of life. So, as more peculiar occurrences began to happen, that is precisely the lens with which I saw the world.

When things started to go missing: my trusty running shoes, a pair of underwear, my gold chain, my laptop, even my keys, it was just me being forgetful. I took my Adderall and just ordered new things. I hunkered down and just focused on my work. When I heard scratching in the walls at night, footsteps down my hallway, quiet breaths echoing in the shadows... I was just sleep deprived, I took my Xanax and zonked myself out. Those dark shadows that crept around the corners just on the edge of my peripherals? Eye floaters, nothing more. Though, after about two weeks of just a miserable living experience, I finally experienced something I couldn't rationalize.

It was after a soul sucking day at the office, having spent all day sifting through piles of meaningless paperwork to the grating click clack of my coworkers silently typing on their keyboards like mindless drones. I'd gone into overtime that day, and after five or six cups of coffee, I can't say I was even remotely physically tired that evening. My mind, of course, was entirely devoid of functionality. Walking through my front door, tossing my keys in the little dish by the door, I collapsed onto my couch and just scrolled through Netflix, looking for nothing in particular. That's when I saw it. I'd turned to grab my vape pen from the side table, and my glance had grazed past the mirror which hung above my mantle. Floating behind me, clear as day in the mirror, was a figure. It was larger than I, big broad shoulders and pecs, tapering down to a narrow waist, flanked on either side by two muscled arms. It's face was chiseled and sharp, brows furrowed, golden eyes narrowed and full lips twisted in a mischievous smirk. It had no legs; rather, its body was condensed into a long whippy tail. Most notably, I would argue, was the... well... rather sizeable phallus which stood erect above it's navel, with two grapefruit sized balls hanging beneath it.

I sat frozen, unable to look away from it sizing me up in the mirror's reflection. All the other things I could make sense of in my head were obliterated at the sight of what was merely inches behind me, and inches above the floor. I finally found the strength to merely exhale, letting a soft billowing cloud of breath out of my mouth. It was the middle of June, and perhaps 91 Fahrenheit outside. It was impossible. Everything about what my eyes were seeing was impossible. As it began to creep toward me, I fully expected to spin around and like every haunted house movie of all time, there would be nothing there. Though as I whipped my head to look behind, no such luck. I was face to face with it. It was grinning as we were nose to nose. Bringing it's cool, ghostly hand to my cheek, it caressed it with the back of its fingers and winked at me.

"Hey there." It's voice boomed like a timpani, yet it's timbre was gravelly and suave. I couldn't help myself. In a primal state of panic, I shrieked a terrified scream. It didn't last long. The spirit seized the opportunity I was entirely unaware I had given it- quickly shoving it's head into my open mouth. The force by which it had taken me was overwhelming, though I suppose with it's sheer size, in retrospect it makes perfect sense. I was flung down into the cushions of the couch, as it pushed itself into me. I grasped at my throat, which was bulging from the thing which was now flooding down my gaping maw. I could hear it laugh from within me as it squeezed itself in, it's massive upper body condensing in on itself and slowly pushing deep into my gut. My stomach ballooned out, stretching as if it were rubber while it's tail whipped aimlessly against my face before it slipped between my lips.

This was the first time I felt the sensation. The euphoria. The cascading waterfall of endorphins as my body was contorting and stretching as the ghost slipped me on like a suit. I could feel it thrusting it's hands into my arms which expanded and stretched to accommodate the spirit's size. I could feel my chest burst through my shirt, with two jiggling pecs now engorged with it's essence. I could feel my thighs and calves swell with thick muscle, and my feet lengthen and explode through my socks. It was as if someone had taken a water hose and filled me like a balloon, and as I felt it's head rising up my throat one last time and slither into my head, I can't say I wasn't in the throws of intense and indescribable bliss. My eyes opened, I was no longer in the driver's seat.

"Ahhh fuck." It's voice boomed out of my mouth as I found my body moving of it's own accord. No, rather moving of his accord. I stood up, feeling my jiggling muscles slowly firm up and tighten as I walked to the mirror. The thing which wore me as a suit was checking itself out! It had my skin, my face, but otherwise I was unrecognizable. I was indeed approaching 6' 4", my jawline was square and chiseled, my arms as large as my head, my feet probably a size 16, and my... appendage? Let's just say he was now an anaconda snaking down my thigh, his hood restored and flanked on either side by an impressive bulbous sac. "Shit, that feels nice." My voice was soft like velvet, but frayed with a coarseness which tickled the mind like sandpaper. It stretched my muscles and cracked my neck and knuckles before finally bothering to introduce itself. "Name's Antoine, nice to meet ya." My hand slinked down to my member giving it a playful tug. "Actually, tonight, your name is Antoine too, baby." He smiled with my pearly white teeth, and it would be an outright lie to deny I was not eager to see what this Antoine would be using me to do that night. We sauntered over to my bedroom, tossing shirts and pants out of my drawers before he found some shorts and a tank top that fit my new musculature whatsoever. I had but only one pair of sandals that he could force my massive feet into, but neither he nor I could care less. As walked to the front door, and stepped out into the humid New Orleans air, he took a deep breath with my borrowed lungs, sighing in satisfaction. "Aight, my man. Let's see what kind of trouble we can get in tonight."

Thus began our mutual understanding. Our partnership. Frankly, our friendship. That night was one filled with club hopping across town, hitting dancefloors right and left, drinking outrageous amounts of liquor, grinding on sexy men with our tongue down their throats... None of which I would have ever experienced on my own. It was an entire world I knew nothing about, nothing I could have ever imagined myself doing, but with Antoine it seemed like second nature. After a night of debauchery and a tryst in some leather daddy's hotel room, he returned near the crack of dawn, collapsing onto my bed in a sweaty, swampy heap. He closed my eyes and almost immediately afterward I reopened them. The sun had risen, and peering at my phone, it was then 9 AM.

For a moment, I sat there and stared at the ceiling. I waited for my body to move on his command, though when it didn't, I whipped my sheets off to see that I had returned mostly to my former stature. I did note that I had grown ever so slightly. Perhaps his presence within me had left some residual effects on my body, a pleasant fact of which I did not mind whatsoever. I sat up, stretching my arms above my head, a wet warm musk wafting from my sweaty pits and steamy feet from the night before. For the first time, I found myself rather enjoying the scent... Where it once used to make me grimace with disgust, it now made me nearly salivate at the slightest tickle on my nose. I peered to the corner of the room, where now even in broad daylight I could see Antoine's spectral self floating above the floorboards, his arms crossed and his bright smile greeting me in the morning light.

We stared at eachother for a mere moment, before I smiled back at him. It didn't take words for us to understand what was to soon come to pass. Frankly, from then on, it was an unspoken pact. An inseparable bond, bound by an awakened hedonism and carnal desire. Starting that morning, our boys night out became a regular occurrence. I'd get home from work, exhausted and tired from a thankless day of grinding in the soulless office, and we would come up with a plan for the evening. He'd take his time slipping into me, knowing full well just how much I enjoyed each breathtaking second of it. In fact, we took a Saturday to go shopping for "night clothes" which would actually fit us when he was inside me.

Antoine was a bit of a casanova, able to make any person he met swoon with a single glance. The parade of men strutting the walk of shame out of my home every morning did not go unnoticed by my neighbors, not that they particularly seemed to care. It was the spirit of New Orleans, live every day like it's your last. That sentiment was instilled in me, along with a new attitude. I began to care less and less about this dead end job which had only gotten more and more unbearable as our relationship grew. My boss began to notice this as well. He noticed that my productivity had slipped, that I'd begun to come into work with more and more tattoos (which were admittedly against company policy), that my musky scent was becoming stronger and more apparent, that I'd become more casual and laid back, that I was trying to force myself into work clothes that were increasingly more and more revealing as my body grew toned and large. This, to him at least, was unacceptable. I don't entirely recall what it was that finally set him off, though I think it may have had something to do with me having my feet up on my desk as I took calls and the delicious pheromones to which my coworkers had taken a liking to. Something to do with my cubicle mate Daniel lapping up the pungent sweat from my socks beneath my desk as I worked. Couldn't say. Either way, it was the last straw for me.

It wasn't much of a loss, as my frequent appearances at the clubs, or rather my appearance altogether, which the bar owners had taken notice of. I had a line of bartending and gogo boy offers to take up in it's stead. Though, it wouldn't be enough to cover the rent on my own. Thus, we hatched a plan. A solution to both our issues: my financial one, and a more permanent solution for Antoine.

It was an average night in the French Quarter, we were behind the bar, and there before us appeared our solution sitting on a stool near the drink well. He was a tourist, a particularly needy and rude one at that. No friends, failing every attempt to snag the attention of our regular hustlers with his more than lacklustre personality. He was perfect. It wasn't difficult to play into his inflated ego, all it took was playing into his cringeworthy advances and unwelcomed touches before he was licking our pits and nipples, ready to head to our place. A lack of a tip was the final nail in the coffin, we were ready. The 'three' of us stumbled back to our apartment, and it took merely five minutes of making out before the drunken asshole had passed out in our bed.

Walking back into the living room, Antoine regurgitated himself out of me. Feeling him exit was always a bittersweet experience, euphoric in sensation but longing in sentiment. He floated in front of me, winking as he compressed himself under the door of our bedroom, slipping in with a quiet pop. Wiping the sweat from my brow, and taking a deep whiff of my dank sneaker like degenerate scent pig I'd become, I popped open a bottle of our nicer tequila to celebrate. As the yellow liquor began to pour into the glass, I heard the delightful sounds of possession begin to loudly bellow out from behind the closed door. A shriek, followed by squeaks and rubbery creaks atop elated moaning and gasping. Taking the two glasses, I meandered over to the couch, kicking my wafting, wet feet up onto the coffee table and grabbing the bong to pack a nice bowl.

The sounds of inflation and gargling, stretching skin and growing muscle were like candy to my ears, as I wondered what Antoine would look like. The guy was less than ideal before, though as a host, the sky was the limit to how gorgeous he was going to be. I lit the bowl, taking a deep drag before blowing an adequate cloud. Antoine's moans got louder and louder, his voice all the more recognizable as it progressed. One more puff from the bong and the sound of that final pop soared through the air. The house was silent apart from the heavy panting quietly emanating from the bedroom.

I sat there for a solid moment. He always was the master of the tease, knowing full well that I awaited his reveal. I could hear his chuckling before I heard the click of the lock on the door. Slowly, I stood up and walked to the bedroom door, pressing my ear against the wood. Nothing. I grabbed ahold of the doorknob with bated breath, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. The lights were on in the bedroom, and there in front of the mirror taking a selfie with his host's phone was my Antoine.

He was better than I ever could have imagined. That lanky, sad excuse for a man was long gone and in his stead stood the dreamiest hunk I'd ever set my eyes on. Our bodies were nearly identical in stature, as over the past several months he'd completely stretched me out to his own measurements. Though, his delicious golden eyes on that gorgeous, masculine face sent me over the edge. He was stacked, he was tall, he was caramel, he was packing down there, and he wafted that buttery, salty musk that made me drool. All he needed to do was to turn to me and wink in his new body and I felt myself harden.

"What's up, baby boy?" He flexed his massive arms, seductively licking his sweaty bicep for me. Let's just say that tequila and that bowl were still there the next day. We were rather preoccupied throughout the dawn, the morning, the afternoon, the evening... Endless hours of carnal pleasures and sensual overload. Simply washing the bedsheets of our intertwined cum imbued into the very threads of the fabric took longer than expected. I imagine you get the picture, so needless to say, such days were and continue to be frequent.

I suppose that brings us to today. As I sit here and write out how we got to this very moment, waiting for an Uber to take us to our honeymoon, I'll go ahead and mention that my former boss just walked by us, feigning pleasantries as if we were old buddies. Asking if now that I had a partner, I was finally ready to knuckle down and come back to work in a 'real job.' I turned to Antoine, he turned to me, and as we found our hands sliding toward eachother's growing bulges, basking in eachother's beguiling musk while my frump of an old boss indignantly watched, I flipped him the bird.

He stomped off, I doubt I'll ever see him again. Why should I need to? I have my man, I have our future, we have all the delicious men of this raunchy city to enjoy... What else can a guy ask for?

#male possession #male transformation #body transformation #original #transformation #jockification #musk #gay transformation #male tf #ghost possession #bad boy transformation #body possession #gay possession #jock possession #muscle tf #jock tf #nerd to jock

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blehrbie-blog · 2 years

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Neteyam x Reader story Part 2?

So, I'm really happy that so many people liked the first story (I don't wanna call it chapter bc it feels like I'm committing to there being multiple chapters) but I may have written a little something else. Now I don't want to say that this will happen again bc I only wrote this because the inspiration struck me, if there is no inspiration I'm not going to drag this story to its death, we will leave it where it is.

That being said (I know, I talk a lot) writing this addition felt nice. it is set quite some time after the first one and I want to specifify that at this point the Reader and Neteyam are well into their adult life so I feel like they're allowed to be a little suggestive. To do the maths. If you didn't know in the movie Neteyam and Lo'ak are 14-15. Then in the last bit of this story he was 24-25, at this point he is in his early 30s. Which is quite a jump but that's how it felt right to me and that's how it came out. So now, enjoy! :D

________________

The scene I see is of a quiet morning of the two sleeping in bed wrapped around each other. The sweet voice of their daughter being the only thing pulling them from sleep. She runs over, her little feet pattering on the uneven grass.

-Mama! Papa! - she jumps onto their legs bouncing and nudging.

- My sweetness – Neteyam rouses, picking his head up from where it laid tucked between your neck and shoulder. - it is too early to wake your mother. - His eyes are still blurry with sleep.

His gruff voice brings a smile to your face. It's like a sweet tickle to your ears, to get to hear it every day is a blessing. He shifts from behind you and you crack open an eye to watch as he picks up your daughter and lifts her above his head to make her giggle.

-Papa, let me down! - she whines, but she's not really bothered, her eyes are lit up with laughter. She has his eyes and his smile. She has your hands tho, three fingers, and they're so small. He brings her down in a tight hug and kisses the top of her head.

-My precious girl. - he sets her down and leads her outside the tent with a hand on her head. - let's go see Grandma, hmm?

You lay there with your eyes closed for a couple more minutes. Until you turn over in the sheets, staring up at the top of your tent. You have work to do. There is medicine to hand out and ceremonies to prepare. There is also a child to raise and teach and a husband to keep happy. And it is all so perfect. You almost can't believe that this is your life, that it has been since that sweet moment in the woods all those years ago. You're lost to memories of your early life for a while, it's a precious time. Your thoughts lead to your daughter. She is almost as old as you were when you and Neteyam became friends. And now she somehow exists as perfect proof of your connection. It feels all too recent, like it was yesterday and still like a hundred-year-old memory that has existed in thousands of lives.

-My dear – Neteyam's voice brings you back from your daydreams. He's at the edge of the tent's opening, sunlight shining through the loose braids over his shoulders - Would you like to join your daughter and me for a morning flight?

You blink a few times taking the time to process and give him a skeptical look – My daughter?

-She is being fussy with her food - he looks down smugly as he says – so she is your daughter this morning.

-And when is she your daughter then? - you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him properly since he's decided to be cheeky this morning.

He hums, pretending to be deep in thought as he stalks over inside to sit down at your feet – When she is being kind and good and listens to her parents. That is when. - his eyes are warm as he smiles at you.

You roll your eyes – Does she take that from you then? Being obedient?

-Of course! - he says in mock offense

-Hmm, interesting. - You press your forehead to his as your eyes close gently, still fighting sleep – I seem to remember a boy who would take me out to fly on his Ikran late at night, when his parents definitely thought he was sleeping safe and sound in their tent.

He presses a kiss to your lips and hums softly – You must be thinking of someone else, dear.

You keep quiet for a bit - Is that so? - your words fall onto his lips as you say them and you pull away, suddenly full of energy – Then I must go find this 'someone else' as he is suuurely my one true love and father of my child. - you say getting up with your back to him. Only to turn around quickly with a mischievous smile and tease in a sing-song tone – As you said, I must be thinking of someone else!

He is still sitting splayed on your sheets with his mouth now open in surprise. You see a quick glint pass his eyes. Dare you say jealousy?

So, you quickly raise your hand, pointing a finger at him – You started this.

He clenches his jaw a couple of times, thinking, and gets up aiming for the door. - Alright then.

The sudden change makes you think you've upset him. You were just poking a bit of fun. But he stops by you and gives you a serious look.

I must say I didn't like that game. - he says, his lips in a pout, and your shoulders ease up. He's not upset.

You grab a small braid hanging by his ear and tug on it lightly. - Is that because I beat you at it? - you say as you look up at him through your lashes.

He hums low in his throat, and brings his face closer, nosing at your jawline – Oh, but I love it when you win these games. - And he presses a warm kiss to the side of your throat. Bringing your chin down with his hand, so he can kiss you deeply. Breaking apart only to whisper - But now, we must go entertain our daughter, as she seems to have your lack of patience, my love.

As you process his words, you hear a whiny call from far away – Papa! Hurry Up!

His amber eyes look into yours as if to prove a point – See?

You caress his face gently - Run along then, papa. I'll be right behind you.

With a quick peck on the lips, he runs out calling to your child. When you've grabbed a pack and stuffed it with the medicines you need for your tasks today you set off right after them ready for a flight into the sky.

__________________

And there we go! Another one! hope you enjoyed this one as much if not more than the first one. But genuinely thank you for enjoying the first one as much as you guys did. Hopefully my attempts at linking it at the top have not failed and if you haven't read it you can have a quick look!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #neteyam x reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #x reader #female reader #neteyam

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jojikawa · 2 years

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𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝘿𝙞𝙤: 𝙋𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙩 | 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙊𝙣𝙚

WICKED HEARTS

Author’s note: This is a POC FRIENDLY blog. I am a black girl and I want to write more fics that don’t leave the reader racially ambiguous. This is self-indulgent and I’m just sharing it with you. Jojo is far from realistic. So, I don’t need to be either. Please don’t leave hate! Thanks!

This is a DARK romance so there will be toxic relationship themes, NSFW themes, descriptions of violence, and gore. There will also be unintentional sexism and racism from the characters toward the reader. The reader is canonically black in this AU but it is written for people from all walks of life to enjoy.

MASTERLIST

"You are my JOY..." Art by KDash_01 on Twitter!

I made this chapter into an audiobook. Audio File: The_Bride_of_Dio_Pilot.wav for those who want to listen while reading! I struggle with paying attention while reading. Made with Eleven Labs AI. It mispronounces Dio's name sometimes and tries to voice act. Could be immersion-breaking!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

You’ve known Erina for some time now. Her family has always been extremely kind to you. Despite your situation, her parents allowed you and your mother to stay with them. Free of charge. Of course, your mother was very adamant about working off any possible favors. Erina never held it over your head or made you feel bad about it. She was so naive and innocent. She always viewed you as a best friend and sister. Not a poor girl living rent-free in her house.

The young girl was a pampered one as well. She had no idea how to put on her dress or do her own hair—but you did. You were always on your own, so you knew how to do a lot of things. You did it for her for a while and then eventually taught her how to do it herself. It was almost like you were her handmaiden. Life was comfortable but…you wanted more. You didn’t want to feel like you were mooching off of your best friend anymore. You never wanted your mother to work herself into an early grave just for you to live like this.

You just…didn’t have the resources to execute anything. After all, you were just a poor girl.

Your life had become boring and monotonous for a few years after realizing this. You spiraled into a depression that was barely visible to anyone but Erina. Unable to help, she would reassure you that you’re a pleasure to have around and that she’s always available to talk to. Unfortunately, that didn’t help.

You busied yourself with education and chores, hoping that one day, you could find a suitor, just like Erina had. She went on about a boy named “Johnathan Joestar.” It was a very particular name, wasn’t it? Joestar. It came off like a noble name to you.

Erina would tell you stories of how she believed the boy had a crush on her. It began when you needed to separate from Erina to grab lunch. She planned a picnic for the two of you, but she forgot to grab the basket with all the food. You were kind enough to go fetch it for her and while you were away, a few bullies showed up.

They made fun of her and took the doll she had been showing off to you. They tossed it around and held it out of her reach, making lewd comments about the doll and trying to take its clothes off. Erina claims the Joestar boy fought the bullies, but you were skeptical. Although, she did have a Joestar handkerchief as proof. Perhaps, he did. You were happy that Erina had discovered feelings for someone who seemed to be respectable. It was hard finding decent men these days. Most held no regard for women.

You were almost surprised when things had begun to spice up for you as well. You unexpectedly found yourself in the eye of someone else. This “Jonathan Joestar” has a brother. Dio Brando.

It was clear that Erina thought poorly of Dio. She told you that he treated Jonathan badly. He kicked his dog on the day he first arrived. You couldn’t understand that. You loved dogs. It was also hard to imagine Dio doing such a thing. You would surely confront him about it.

Erina’s love for Jonathan had been blooming faster than ever. She gushed about it all the time and wanted to go out to eat again for a celebration. You prepared lunch together and made sure she didn’t forget it this time.

The two of you sat beneath an apple tree. It made for good shade and if Erina wanted fresh fruit, you could easily climb up and grab it for her. You had barely sat down before the girl claimed she saw the Joestar boy and ran off to be with him. She wanted to return his handkerchief that you had washed for her.

It didn’t help that Erina had become so impulsive like this. Jonathan this, Jonathan that, May I have an apple? Oh, Jonathan’s there! You were all the way at the top of the tree that you had climbed just for her. You had become stuck with no way down.

You tried to work your way down but today you chose to wear fancier footwear. You would slip and probably break your leg. You were beginning to lose hope and the idea of just waiting for Erina to come back and fetch someone to get you became more acceptable.

Then you heard a voice.

“Erina is a silly one, isn’t she? Leaving you all alone once again.”

It was deep and smooth but very sly and cunning. A condescending tone.

You looked around, confused about where the voice could be coming from. You couldn’t see anyone just yet. You shuffled around a bit before a person emerged from behind a tree some distance away. You recognized the blond hair and amber eyes. A look that couldn’t be found just anywhere. It was Dio.

“Oh, it’s just you.” You were genuinely surprised to see him. “Oh? Is one not excited to see yours truly?” He smirked at you before crossing his arms. “Just when you’re in need of help as well.” His speech was slow and sure. He has all the characteristics of a villain from all the books you’ve read from Erina’s library. You remembered that your mother said not to judge people by their outward appearances.

“I believe I can get down on my own.” You informed him, trying your best to find a footing that wouldn’t let you slip.

Dio walked over to the tree you were stuck in. He held out his arms for you. “If you could get down, then you would have already. Just jump. I can catch you.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” You lowered your gaze. You wanted to get down but Dio was supposed to be this horrible person who kicks dogs and is mean to his brother whom Erina crushes on.

“You have no other choice.”

You began to look around. The sun was beginning to set. The evening would come very soon. Your mother would be furious if someone else had to come out and get you. You looked back at Dio. He was patiently waiting for you to make up your mind. So smug and sure of himself.

“Okay.” You sighed, readying yourself for the jump. The moment you let go of the leverage to move, you slipped anyway, coming off of the tree branch. Dio quickly stepped forward, seemingly catching you with ease. The abruptness of his actions actually caused him to suffer pain in his lower back and leg. You were a bit heavier than he predicted!

Dio ignored the pain, smirking at you as he held you bridal style. “See. There was nothing to be fearful of. You should learn to trust me.” You huffed at his tone as it sounded semi-condescending. Rolling your eyes, you jump out of his arms and adjust your dress. “To be honest, I thought that you only came here to make fun of how I look.”

The blonde boy tilted his head. “Make fun of you? Why would you think that of me?” Even when his words were of curiosity, his tone made it as though he couldn’t be trusted.

“Because that’s what everyone does.”

This made Dio knit his eyebrows together for a brief moment. It was obvious why the others would make fun of you but you seemed to already have an opinion of him. Something he didn’t have control over. “I’m not everyone. I am Dio Brando.”

The boy before you failed to hide how disingenuous he could be.

“I know who you are.” You said lazily, not at all caring for your attitude. “Jonathan’s brother.”

“I am not related to such a talentless oaf!” Dio scrunched up his face in disgust, averting his eyes and crossing his arms. He had a real bone to pick with that innocent boy. You had previously found yourself disbelieving the things Erina had told you of Dio but it was beginning to show. You found it rather funny. You expressed your joy shamelessly, giggling to yourself without the effort of suppression.

“This is how you thank me? By calling Jonathan my brother like we bleed the same blood and laugh in my face?” Dio narrowed his eyes at your behavior but he still held restraint. He had become self-aware enough to realize that he can lash out. This was something he didn’t want to ruin for himself.

“Okay, okay.” You rolled your eyes to the left and gave him a half smile. “Thank you for helping me, Dio.” You then turned to him. “But why exactly did you come over here?”

“Can a boy not go wherever he pleases?” Dio teased you, causing you to frown. His idea was to be flirty with you but it seemed like no matter what he said because the way he says things dictates the reactions. Dio’s smirk fell. You weren’t very privy to flirting, were you? The young man readjusted himself. “When I heard that Jonathan would be coming out to see Erina, I couldn’t help but think about how that girl just leaves you to your own devices.”

“Erina is like my sister and my best friend.” You told him. “I support her relationship with Jonathan. It’s just that-“

“—there’s no one around to support you, yes?”

You pouted, examining his face for any sign of being disingenuous. Your mother taught you how to read people. You needed to be good at it to survive as someone with a low status as yourself. It was the best way to tell when you were being used or discarded. “So, you haven’t come to make fun of me for how I look or that I’m not as rich as you.”

Dio placed one hand on his chest with the other outstretched towards you. “I come from humble beginnings as well. You can see me as…one who gets it. You have to get good at fighting if you want to survive where I’ve come from.” He gloated. This behavior was familiar to you. It was always something you saw men do in the presence of women. He was trying to impress you. Although it was subtle, the things he would gush about were normally about him and things you never asked about.

You did think Dio was rather cute. You didn’t expect someone with blonde hair and a dumb smile on this face to sound a fair bit intelligent. Let alone, give you any attention that wasn’t negative. You weren’t ugly but the clear beauty standard was someone like Erina. You didn’t look like Erina at all…

“Mmm. I see.” You hummed, humoring him just a little. “So, now that you’re here, Dio, what is it that you would plan on doing?” You smiled at him, causing his pupils to retract while a dusted pink appeared on his cheeks. “I’ve come to get to know this fair maiden that’s been plagued by Lady Erina.”

You giggled. “Oh, I’m not ‘plagued by Erina’ but I appreciate your efforts.” You parted from Dio, beginning to clean up the picnic that you were having with Erina. There was a grunt behind you and recognized it to be Dio. “What’s the use in getting rid of everything when you’ve only just started?”

You turned to look at Dio. Was he trying to eat with you?

“Mm. You’re not as bad as everyone is making you out to be. Is this a prank? Have the city boys sent you to embarrass me?” You questioned as you halted your actions. You went to sit where you previously were, leaving room for Dio to sit as well. He acted on this opportunity, sitting by you in Erina’s place. “Not at all. I’ve come of my own volition.” He answered.

You rolled your eyes. You didn’t believe that at all but all you could do was give him a chance. If he was lying then that would just be something you had to deal with. What followed was completely unexpected!

Dio had come to visit you very often during the day. Sometimes spending the evenings with you too. The pot rumors of Dio became less and less evident as you got to know him. You didn’t know if he could actually commit the horrible things you’d heard of.

Unbeknownst to you, your presence had caused Dio to behave a lot better. The young devil had been tormenting Jonathan for some time but recently, it didn’t feel like things were that bad. Was it because Jonathan had found salvation in Erina or was it that Dio found salvation in someone else?

Jonathan was unaware of your presence for some time. Dio was very good at keeping his secrets and his whereabouts were no exception. Since the Joestar wanted nothing to do with Dio, any time where the devil disappeared was highly welcomed, but he never would have guessed it was a girl. He heard it from Erina.

The two were together and had spent time swimming. It was clearly a date. Jonathan felt compelled enough by his relationship with the girl to carve their initials into a tree. Very wholesome. It wasn’t too enjoyable for Erina, though, as there was something eating away at her.

Your time with Dio.

Was she jealous? Maybe. This boy who tormented her boyfriend daily was now tormenting her by taking her best friend away. Erina vented to Jonathan.

“Has Dio been acting strange lately?” The girl questioned politely. Jonathan turned his head to the side, thinking for a moment before facing his lover. It was so easy to forget about Dio when he was having such a good time. “I suppose so.” The boy answered. “He hasn’t seemed to be too much of a bother!”

Erina frowned. “I believe that's because he’s spending time with (y/n), my friend.” She sighed. “He could be a bad influence on her.”

Jonathan agreed. Perhaps, Dio wasn’t the best person for you to be around. It was natural for your friend to worry about you, right? So, Erina asked Jonathan to warn Dio to…stay away.

That was a huge mistake.

Dio only pretended like he had gotten the message.

“I don’t think you should be talking to Lady (y/n).”

This caused Dio’s mask to begin slipping. Who were they to tell him who he could or could not talk to? He was Dio Brando. He could do anything he wanted. If anything, this made him want to be around you so much more. Anything to piss off those mongrels.

Even after all of this time you had spent with Dio, you still had a hard time believing that everything was real. It wasn’t a negative feeling. It was almost the same as pleasant disbelief. The first boy to ever give you time like this. You went from planning picnics with Erina to planning picnics with Dio. You didn’t want to call him your lover just yet but he already felt like one. Everyone expects boys to be a bit airheaded and oblivious but Dio seemed to be very in tune with his emotions. He was also very sensitive towards yours.

There were the occasional sexist comments that spawned from misinformation and curiosity but you’d always clear it up.

It was mid-spring. The air was warm and the wind carried a cool breeze. It was refreshing and perfect for a date. You wanted to do something special for Dio. He had completely extinguished your feelings of loneliness these days. He even made you forget about your internal struggles. It was a sweet escape. As a “thank you” you made him some extraordinary Earl Grey tea. It was expensive and something you had only ever made for Erina’s family.

Preparing food and drink and getting others to look nice was your specialty but it wasn’t something you enjoyed hearing about from Dio.

“I never knew that your kind could be so good at making English tea. This is extremely delicious. You should make tea for my father!” Dio held a joyous look on his face. His cheeks burned with delight at the taste of your tea. It was like heaven to him.

You did not look the same. You could not tell if Dio was trying to be sexist or what. It defeated the point of the compliment. It was so backhanded and very like him to say such a thing.

“Can you not say stuff like that?” You narrowed your eyes at him. The boy choked on his drink as he saw your face. The hot liquid went down his windpipe, quickly causing him to cough and gag. You rolled your eyes, patting him on the back for assistance.

“L-Like what?” He repeated, mood displaced from the hot tea. “You said ‘your kind.’ That’s derogatory.” You told him. “I’m tired of hearing everyone being so surprised that I can do something well.” You sat your tea cup down, retreating inward as if you were trying to make yourself small.

“But I wasn’t insulting you-“

“You were. You don’t understand because everyone already expects you to know how to do stuff.” You pouted. “I’m taught just like everyone else but for some odd reason my intelligence gets insulted.”

Dio grunted. “Well, I wasn’t trying to.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Your heart sank and your chest ached at the memories of being put down for being a woman…or more. It had been piling up and only as a little girl, it had already become too much for you. Dio audibly reacted to your small change in behavior. He was never one to actually apologize to anyone—for anything!

But it was clear that he triggered a response that ran deep within you.

Dio puffed out his cheeks, avoiding eye contact with you. “I’m sorry, okay? Just stop doing that.” He looked off to the side, trying to do anything but look directly at you. This made you confused. You tilted your head, drying your eyes. “Doing what? I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are. You’re looking like that. I command you to stop.” Dio grumbled. One thing he hated more than seeing you sad was being the reason why you were sad. Dio would do any and everything in his power to never be like his god-forsaken father, Dario.

“Hmm.” You hummed. It was easy to tell he didn’t have a good grasp on his emotions or feelings. Perhaps his apology is sincere. “It’s okay. I guess you didn’t mean anything harmful by it.” Your body language became open again. “Did you really mean it when you said I should make tea for your father?”

Your blooming relationship with Dio was picking up very slowly. It was easy to notice how he talked about you differently compared to other women. His language was more delicate and the good things he said about you to other people got back to you often. A part of you felt like maybe the two of you could become lovers in the future. Even if you didn’t show it.

You see, Dio found it hard to tell if you were ever returning his feelings. You rarely flirted back, nor did you initiate flirting by yourself. The only thing he had going was that he was the only male you gave your time to. He wanted so badly for you to just admit it so that his mind could be at ease. The thought of rejection plagued him like a bad sickness.

Dio was always calculated but attraction always brought out the worst in a human. Especially men. They were always expected to be the ones to act first on love while women waited there to be impressed, causing him to do something unthinkable.

“I believe that you should come by the Joestar mansion and make enough for everyone. I think everyone should be able to witness and taste such excellence.” Dio smirked, gaining enough courage to look you in the eyes. His eyes were like daggers compared to your soft teary doe eyes. “There’s no way I can possibly express my gratitude.” The boy leaned closer.

You smiled at his odd behavior. It was out of character for him so far to act this nice but it was welcomed. Perhaps, you were seeing a new side of him. “Thank you, Dio. It’s rather hard to…” you trailed off as his face was now only inches away from yours. “D-Dio?” You leaned backward, trying to create more distance but he only closed it more. His arm snaked around your waste to prevent you from falling.

“I don’t believe we should continue to ignore the feelings that we have for each other.”

“Feelings? Dio?!”

Butterflies filled your belly at how smooth he was with his actions. It felt like the romance novels you’d read in your free time.

“There’s no reason to be modest with me. Especially if we are alone, (y/n).” Dio teased you almost relentlessly, using his free hand to grab the wrist of the hand that was pushing him away. You were backing away because you were just shy, right? All women are shy. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you? You had to. There’s no way you could just be “nice” to this degree.

“Then kiss me.” You whispered, your breath hitting his lips. His confident demeanor diminished, not expecting you to lean so hard into his actions. “What?” His pale cheeks turned rosy. Were you actually returning the feelings or was this a test?

“Kiss me.” You repeated, an adorable blush covering your face. The expressions you’d make made his heart jump out of his chest. This was the perfect opportunity. Dio couldn’t let this slip away! He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. The faint taste of tea entered your mouth as he went deeper.

That was it. Now, no one else could have you. Any chance of you being with anyone else was now at a flat 0% because Dio would now do anything to keep anyone from having you.

You went home that day, feeling so much happier than you had ever been. Perhaps, the hardships you endured were suddenly worth it. You wouldn’t have met Dio if you never got here. Dio kissed you! It was almost like a fairytale. Your knight in shining armor wasn’t perfect, nor did he act like a knight or a Prince Charming, but he made you feel acknowledged.

Dio never asked, but you considered each other lovers at this point. He never spent time with any other girls like this…

Or so, it seemed.

Dio was not the gentleman you had believed him to be.

On a random day, seemingly out of nowhere, your mother didn’t allow you to go out. She had you stay at the Pendleton mansion and do chores. Guests were supposed to be arriving and Erina’s parents expected the house to be presentable. Dio saw this as the perfect opportunity to punish both Jonathan and Erina for their comments about his relationship with you. He was definitely one to hold grudges.

The devil, or—Dio, met with Erina, teasing her for her relationship with Jonathan, making no mention of you or anything else. The last thing he wanted was to bring more unwanted attention to you. Especially with what he did next. He soiled Erina’s innocence: stealing her first kiss and then striking her across the face.

Dio hoped that his intimidation would keep the girl quiet, but no. The first thing she did was cry to you. Of course, Dio knew nothing of this until your next date. It was always the same routine. You show up first, you set up the picnic then he shows up and the two of you spend a few hours talking.

But you weren’t here. Dio had been waiting almost an hour with no notification of you coming at all. ‘Did she cancel on me?’ was all he could think. His weak pride was being hurt. How dare he let a woman dictate his emotions? He couldn’t help it, though. He did like you. The sun was beginning to set when you finally arrived.

Your face was sullen but that didn’t take away from your beauty. Any boy would be nervous in your presence but Dio was too arrogant to be nervous at a moment like this. “Where have you been?” He barked his questions at you. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

Your expression didn’t change. You walked all the way up to him, not showing any sign of timidness. “I don’t care, Dio.”

“Why you-“

“You kissed Erina?!” You shouted, causing the birds in the tree nearby to become startled and fly away. Dio’s eyes widened. “Keep your voice down!” He commanded, failing to defuse the situation. “I will not!” You shouted again.

Dio grabbed your forearm. “I did not kiss Erina. Would it be so out of this realm for her to make up things on behalf of Jonathan? I already told you that they don’t approve of us talking.” He spoke calmly. Too calmly. It was as if he rehearsed for something like this. “They’re jealous of us!” He added.

You shrugged Dio’s hands off of you. “And you have the capacity to lie to me as well. I should’ve known you were no good, Dio!”

“You don’t trust me!?” Dio raised his voice at you but you didn’t back down. “I saw the bruise on her face. She was covered in dirty water and mud. I know Erina wouldn’t lie about something like that. Maybe I should ask those street rats you call yourself being friends with. She claims they were there.”

Dio clenched his fist. “That ungrateful wench!” He cursed to himself under his breath. “How can you be so evil, Dio?” You felt tears beginning to well up. This would be the first time Dio really made you cry.

“I’m not evil.” He growled, his body language becoming more violent. “Can’t you understand that I was teaching her a lesson?”

“What lesson? The only thing I take away from this is that you’re unfaithful, you harm women and you have no issue lying to me about it.” You began to back away from him. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” You whispered sadly. “No! You’re not doing this right now!” Dio grabbed your arm again, yanking you towards him. The force caused you to wince in pain at the contact. Despite only being able to see red, a small bit of humanity remained inside of him. Your face and cries brought him back into reality.

His breath hitched. He let go of you and you instinctively ran away, not looking back. Dio looked at the hands he had grabbed you with. He was beginning to become the very person he hated. His father. No amount of rationalization could excuse what he just did. He wanted to hit you. It felt like he could no longer live with himself. Dio ruffled his hair into a mess out of frustration. “Whatever!” He yelled at your shrinking form. “You’ll come crawling back!”

Hi everyone! It's me, Maron. I've come back and started a new series that I have been planning for several months. I had a real lack of my creativity and I haven't been able to finish any of my Valorant requests. Someday, I will get to them but for the past few months, I have had little interest. It's not the requests themselves or the game. Its Riot. They do so little with the lore and characters. All of my fics are usually grounded by the existing plot. I'm sorry if that upsets people. - Maron.

#jojo's bizare adventure #dio brando x reader #Dio x reader #Dio x black reader #black reader #POC reader #Dio imagines #Dio Brando imagines #jojo no kimyou na bouken #Dio #Dio Brando #audiobook #soundcloud

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sam-loves-seb · 9 months

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larry fucking seaver sounds like a hillarious fic to read and mama's boy gives off angsty vibes...at least for me

anyway I'd love to know more about them! I'm literally addicted to ur fics🤭

omg hi hello thank u for asking about my worksinthedocs post 💙 you're so sweet, i'm so glad you like my silly little stories

i'll tell you more about them under the cut

larry fucking seaver:

this one is a vignette style fic where it's just little scenes of mickey having to explain his life to larry and/or larry trying to help him in any way he can and mickey begrudgingly accepting it. like, it starts with larry driving mickey to the gallagher house after he gets released, and mickey has to explain to him that it's his boyfriend's house

(i'll give u a longer snippet of this one since i don't have much for the next one)

“So,” Larry pipes up just as some pop song on the car radio fades into a commercial. “It says here that…” He taps on the screen of his phone, reading something from where it sits in its little air vent clip on holder. “1955 South Trumbull is your address on file.” Larry glances over at Mickey. “Is that where we’re going today?” Larry fucking Seaver—of course he gets stuck with a goodie two shoes parole officer. Nothing could ever be easy, right? Mickey’s had parole officers before, most of them assholes, so he knows how to deal with the jerks, and the hard asses, and the fake tough guy routine he was expecting to get. Instead, he gets—whatever the fuck this guy is, and he doesn’t really know what to do with that. But that’s a thought for another time, because right now they’re passing under the L and turning into his old neighborhood, and the thought of going back to the house he was raised in makes his fucking skin crawl. “No. I don’t…” he trails off, the words dying on his tongue. He doesn’t want to go back, doesn’t want to face anyone or anything that might still be lingering between those walls, but he can’t say that. Not out loud, and definitely not to this walking pep talk of a parole officer he just met five minutes ago. “I don’t live there anymore.” “Not a problem, Mr. Milkovich—not a problem at all,” Larry reassures him, tapping his phone screen again after he comes to a stop at a red light. “I’ll just make a note in your file here… Okay! So—where to then?” Mickey hesitates. “North Wallace,” he says. “Take a left up here.” Larry lifts his hands from his phone with a small shrug, nodding to himself as he follows Mickey’s directions. “Okay.” They drive past Trumbull and Mickey doesn’t so much as turn his head to look down it. “Is this your house we’re heading to?” Larry asks, not skeptical, but… curious. Mickey sighs through his nose. “No.” “A relative?” Larry prompts, putting his blinker on and glancing over at Mickey again. “Or a friend, maybe?” And honestly, Mickey kind of hates this question, because this short answer would be yes—friend, lover, family, Ian’s been all of that to him and more for as long as Mickey can remember—but that’s not really the sort of answer Larry’s looking for, and Mickey doubts he could try and explain all that even if it was. He knows he never actually lived in the Gallagher house, not officially, not even technically, all those years ago, but right now that’s the only place Mickey wants to be. He doesn’t give two shits about the house, only cares about what’s inside—specifically, the tall redhead that still sleeps in the same twin-size bed he’s had since the fourth grade. Because the first thing most parolees do when they get out is go home, and, well—Ian Gallagher is the only real home that Mickey’s ever known. That’s a lot to reveal to a parole officer within the first hour of knowing him, Mickey thinks, but he figures he’s going to be seeing a lot of this guy, so he might as well be honest. Might as well get it all out in the open now. Mickey bites at the dry skin on his lip for a second before he finally says, “Boyfriend.” Larry doesn’t say anything. He blinks, then looks over at Mickey for a second too long. “It’s my boyfriend’s place,” Mickey says again, nails pressing into his palms as his hands curl into loose fists. “Well, his family’s. I guess.” For a moment it’s quiet, the only sounds coming from the steady flow of the air conditioning and some boyband singing on the radio. Mickey swallows. Larry taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Huh,” Larry says mostly to himself. Then, a little louder, “Okay.” Mickey’s jaw visibly relaxes, and his shoulders drop a few inches as they pull onto North Wallace. The corner of Larry’s mouth quirks up into a grin. Mickey notices.

there's lots of other little scenes too (some i've written, some i haven't yet), like larry getting mickey the job at old army, mickey telling larry he and ian broke up--then telling him they're engaged, larry wanting to see pictures from the wedding, mickey and ian starting the weed security business and how that works with their parole, etc. etc.

but yeah. that's larry fucking seaver.

mama's boy:

this one is newer and still in an outline phase but it's not super angsty?? like it is, but it has a happy ending

it's basically a what if story, like what if: mickey's mom didn't die, she just left when they were kids. what if she's still out there somewhere, and sometime post-canon she's finally clean and sober and wondering about the kids she left behind all those years ago so she's slowly tracking them down one by one, and she shows up at apartment 218 one day to find a tall redhead answering the door that allegedly belongs to her son.

and mickey looks like he's seen a ghost, because he just assumed she fucked off and died somewhere outside of chicago, and that's why she never came back. but now she's here. in their apartment.

and she's telling him that his roommate seems nice and mickey's brain is still trying to process the fact that his mom is alive and sitting on his goddamn couch and she knows absolutely nothing about him.

so he tells her.

and it takes a while for mickey to loosen up around her, but ian is so excited for him, for both of them, because he knows what it's like to lose a mother--one that leaves--and as much as he hated monica, he loved her too, and he misses her more than he cares to admit

so he's not going to let his husband throw away a chance to have his mom in his life. not until he knows her a little bit first.

idk i just thought it was a neat idea, so. we'll see where i go with that one.

thanks for the ask! if anyone wants to know more about any of the fics in my worksinthedocs list, feel free to send me an ask 💙

#i kinda forgot about larry fucking seaver before this #maybe i'll go back to that soon #ask sam

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thehistoriangirl · 2 years

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The Oblivious Game I Want to Lose (Without Losing You) [Chapter Three]

This one is short and messy, because I’m truly fighting creative block here. Stumbling out Google Docs covered in blood, nevertheless, I hope you like it :D

Viktor x Fem!(Hopeless Romantic!)Reader----1.9K----SFW

> M A S T E R L I S T <

Summary: You and Viktor have bonding time! (even if one is a little skeptic about it)

You settled across from him at the desk, a tray with two cups of two chocolate and cookies on its surface. Silence lingered heavily inside the studio as Viktor sipped his beverage and you munched a bunch of cookies.

It took you a couple of minutes to gain courage enough to say:

“I’m sorry…”, at the same time Viktor commented:

“I apologize—”

Stopping midway to the double interruptions, you automatically locked gazes, feeling your cheeks burn. If Viktor noticed, he cleared his throat and averted his eyes toward the garden.

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have behaved like a child. I’m truly sorry, Mister Viktor. You’re just doing your job.”

Viktor lowered his gaze, brows slightly pinched together.

“Nevertheless, I shouldn’t have judged you like I did, Miss. I’m your tutor and I didn’t act like a professional. I’m sure you have your… eh, your reasons.” He efforted not to look toward the shelf at his back, but you did.

Rather than get angry for him to looking at your things without permission, you chuckled. "I do, yes. But they aren't less childish." You signaled at the photos slightly crooked in their positions for when Viktor scanned them moments ago. "Perhaps my father is right and I should stop dreaming like if I were still the kid in those photos. But… it’s difficult, I guess. I wanted to be like my mother—she achieved so much, coming from the Undercity into Piltover. But ever since her death, my father has been doing everything in his power to make me a useful heir.”

He squinted his eyes, resting his elbows over the desk. "I don't mean to pry, but I think you can achieve your goal and fulfill your duties all the same.”

“My goal?” you repeated, arching an eyebrow. “How do you…”

It was Viktor’s turn for his face to get all red. “I—eh, I worked for the Music Faculty as a technician assistant in the auditorium. I oversaw the auditions for a couple of years.”

You grunted, hiding your face between your hands. "Well, that makes this situation much more embarrassing."

Viktor smiled softly, even if you couldn’t see him.

“If it makes you feel better, I think I can help your situation. If you let me, of course.”

"Why would you want to help me?" you said, and Viktor knew it was a good question. He asked himself the same thing, but could never grasp a logical, concrete answer. It was a strange sensation localized deep within his being, warm and liquid as the hot chocolate that traveled down his throat to cover his stomach. The way sun illuminated the room with soft hues of gold contrasting in your lashes and down your curious eyes.

"I… I don't know." He shrugged. "I suppose I want to help people from the Undercity, too. Alas…" Viktor shook his head, a sad smile expanding on his lips while looking directly, intently. "I can't do it at the moment. I can only help you.”

“So you’re saying, I’m your testing experiment.” You chuckled, an airy sound Viktor found… interesting, for sure. “I don’t mind. I judge you’re smart if my father considers you for tutoring me.”

Viktor blinked, feeling the tips of his ears getting warm. “Then, do you trust me?”

“Sure. I wouldn’t have answered when you knocked on my door if I didn’t.”

He nodded. “Good. Thank you for the vote of confidence. Hear me out first, the beginning of my idea may not be that appealing to you, but I promise you it can work if you wish so.”

You frowned. “Alright…”

"The main issue here is one that plagues many people here, especially creators of any kind. You want the liberty to make whatever you desire with your life. However, your patron—your father—wants you to do another thing. First, you have to follow his demands, and with time, Mr. Ventos would just let you be. Because you’ll know what you must do, which I assume is engross the capital of the Ventos’ business.” Viktor tapped the plates of cookies, now almost empty. “But with time you learn, you wait for a suitable opportunity. You’re Mr. Ventos' sole heir. You can have many opportunities like those if you wait for enough to make a name for yourself and wield that power."

You were looking at him with widened eyes, fingers froze in the handle of your cup.

“Why do I think you’re saying this from experience?”

“You know, I don’t want to be Heimerdinger’s assistant all my life.” He said, and then, just like an afterthought. “Miss.”

You smiled, saying your name between a drink of your now cold chocolate. “I believe if we’re going to follow your plan, you should refer to me by my first name.”

He wasn’t expecting that.

“Then, do I assume I’m still your tutor?”

"Only if you can handle me." You put three cookies inside your mouth, only because if you'd had your lips unoccupied, maybe you'll say another stupid thing.

Viktor blinked. “I think I can. Only if you promise don’t doodle me without telling me again." He put out your notes from his bag, and you lowered your head, just a little to look at him from behind your lashes. "Besides, I don't have a nose that big."

You laughed wholly this time, taking the notes and quickly tucked them into your lap.

“You do, but you’re still handsome,” you said, and then quickly added: “You’re saying that if I graduate from the Academy, my father will let me alone?”

"No. You said he wants you to be a useful heir, right? You'd probably have to work a little bit inside your family business."

You groaned, but Viktor gestured while he finished his sentence. “Especially because, if I recall correctly, your father will rather marry you off rather than let you disobey his wishes. Am I wrong?”

“No, you aren’t.” Your voice was a thin thread Viktor had to lean closer to listen. “I hate this so much—” you started, cut in the middle of your rant. “And I hate being so whiny. I’m sorry, Viktor. I know I’m annoying you.”

“You wouldn’t annoy me if we continue our lesson.” Viktor signaled the incomplete equation, a small smile playing while he gave you a pencil, fingers almost brushing. “Mmmh?”

“Alright.” You finished your drink, pushing the plate with the last cookie toward him. “Have it, please, it’s yours. For your help.”

He shyly took it, muttering a "thank you", before his speech returned to formal, voice firm and clear as Viktor explained what you were supposed to do. This time, Viktor would tap your notes or call your name every time you got distracted, even taking little breaks between long explanations and difficult problems.

In those breaks, you talked about your personal life.

“Why did you decide on being my tutor, Viktor? I’ve heard even if the money is tempting, many quit.”

“I wonder why would it be,” he said mockingly. You pretended to glare at him, but you were laughing too much for it to be considered credible. “Your Father told me something that implied that you were from the Undercity… like me. Though I didn’t know your mother was from the Undercity. She married into a very important family.”

You scoffed. “I hope she didn’t. I believe she would’ve preferred not to, in the end.”

“But then you wouldn’t have been born—” Viktor started, but your sour chortle interrupted him.

“It doesn’t matter,” you reassured him with a tense smile that didn’t reach up to your eyes getting shinier with trapped tears. And Viktor silently hoped you didn't start to cry because he wouldn't know what to do. “She would be still alive, too,” you muttered, lips barely open which made the words unintelligible for him to hear correctly.

Viktor tried to reach up but wasn't sure if touching you was the correct thing to do. So he poured you half a cup of hot chocolate from the little kettle, shaky fingers as he put the little porcelain thing over your notes for you to notice.

“Still, I’m happy to be here,” you added, seeing the looming mood that was starting to conquer Viktor’s eyes. “I met you, at least.”

He didn’t know what to say, feeling once again his face warming up.

You fidget with your fingers, nails clicking around the cup’s ring as you locked your gaze on the desk. “Can we… be friends, Viktor?”

He blinked, feeling his heartbeat raise with no logical cause. It wasn’t that important, Viktor tried to convince himself. Of course, you’d be the first person that openly asked about forming a friendship with him. Nothing too relevant. Why would anyone be interested anyway? He was always hidden in the library, scribbling away, or inside Heimerdinger’s office filing out paperwork.

But a change would be good. And it would be awkward for your tutoring sessions if Viktor refused—surely it was a trick on your end too, so he couldn’t back up from helping you.

An intelligent move indeed.

Viktor extended one hand toward you, smiling politely as he did it toward other merchant families and even some other members of the Academy faculties. “It will be my pleasure.”

Your hand touched his not without caution. His fingers were slim and long, palm slightly cold. He pressed your palm into his, a gentle touch that shouldn’t have lasted as much as it did.

The door at the entrance of the studio opened just enough for a maid’s voice to filter through the wood.

“Young Mistress, you’re expected in the garden to have dinner in an hour.”

Viktor quickly broke the contact, sweat prickling the nape of his neck as he felt the tip of his ears burn with shame—though he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate.

You smiled apologetically, and Viktor consulted his watch. It was indeed half an hour past his scheduled session.

“I’ll see you in two days, Viktor!” you beamed, jumping to your feet when the maid closed the door as fast as she appeared. "Be careful on the way home! You can grab an umbrella on your way out—I don't it's going to rain, but oh I wish so.”

He chuckled as you entered the same lateral door Viktor knocked on hours before. A maid quickly surrounded you with a dress, slamming the door when she discovered Viktor was peeking inside.

All he could see was half a shelf covered in books, plushies adorning a white couch, and a fluffy blue carpet adorning the entirety of the floor. It seemed even your bedroom was light blue and white.

Your notes were covered in cookie crumbs when he was piling them in order, looking with an almost unnoticeable smile at the last cookie you left on the plate for him. It tasted like nuts, filled with mousse that smelled like vanilla. It was shaped like a little flower.

From all your notes, he only took back home the one where you had doodled him. Like a silly souvenir, Viktor repeated in his mind on a loop as he walked back home. A silly souvenir of his first friendship.

Even if it wasn’t a genuine one.

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ghostflowerdreams · 2 years

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Ghosts Films

It’s October! The month in which I watch even more horror movies than usual. Each year I tend to have a theme to help narrow down what to watch. So far I’ve done Zombie Films, Werewolf Films, Vampire Films and Slasher Films. This year’s theme will be the paranormal, specifically Ghosts.

The thing about me is that I’m not really phase by a lot of horror movies. They don’t scare me unless it’s a stupid jump scare which is more of a knee-jerk reaction of something unexpected. But the very few movies that have manage to get to me are those centered around hauntings. Even worst if they’re base on a true story.

I’m pretty excited to dive into this since I’m usually reluctant to watch them in the first place. I’m focusing only on films that I haven’t ever seen before, even if they’ll been out for years. This isn’t in any particular order either.

1408 (2007) -- is an American psychological horror film based on Stephen King's 1999 short story of the same name. It is directed by Mikael Håfström and stars John Cusack and Samuel L. Jackson. The film follows Mike Enslin, an author who investigates allegedly haunted houses and rents the titular room 1408 at a New York City hotel. Although skeptical of the paranormal, he is soon trapped in the room where he experiences bizarre events.

It's a simple, but an effective thriller and this horror is definitely more psychological than scary. I enjoyed it and thought it was a neat concept because it does something different than the usual ‘oh, look it’s a scary ghost’ that most horror movies do.

The Innkeepers (2011) -- is an American supernatural horror film written, directed and edited by Ti West. It stars Sara Paxton, Pat Healy, and Kelly McGillis. Its plot follows two employees at the Yankee Pedlar Inn who, during its last weekend of operations, attempt to document the alleged supernatural activity in the building.

It’s fine. I like the atmosphere, but it’s very slow paced and the horror is too low key for me to find it all that scary. It is nice to see a film that isn’t all about gore, special effects, and trying to scare you constantly, but it’s just not for me. Some people may like this. Just beware that there is a few loud-noise jump scares if you’re using headphones or earphones. I really hated it when the audio unexpectedly gets loud enough to cause physical discomfort.

The Canal (2014) -- is an Irish horror film that was directed and written by Ivan Kavanagh. The film stars Rupert Evans as a father investigating a horrific murder that took place in his home in the early 1900s.

It’s okay, nothing groundbreaking though. I liked the pacing and the atmosphere, but I found it very predictable. That’s because there's only so many directions that a horror film like this can go in. Is it an evil entity possession? Mental illness? Is it an actual monster or person behind it?

Even if It’s predictable, if the story is done well enough it should leave you with a sense of dread and goosebumps at not knowing for sure which is it. Unfortunely, this film didn’t invoke any dread, goosebumps or fear in me. It’s just an okay film.

Don’t Listen (2020) -- is also known as Voces is a Spanish supernatural horror film directed by Ángel Gómez Hernández. The movie follows a man who after the inexplicable death of his young son in their new home begins to experience ghostly phenomena, prompting him to seek the help of a paranormal expert.

Well, there’s two reasons I picked this movie. I want to expand my horror palette by watching more foreign movies. And I’m also trying to learn Spanish. I’m happy to report that I was able to understand half of it without relying too much on the English subtitles.

It’s good, but it didn’t scare me. I went into this expecting one thing and it turned out to be something else. That’s not a bad thing. I just don’t know whether to still include this in the list or not. I suppose me saying that is a hint in itself that’s not entire what you think it is..

Also, as a heads up because it caught me off guard. There’s several cats seen dead. You don’t see how it happens, just that they’re all hanging gruesomely from a tree around the 53 minute mark.

We Are Still Here (2015) -- is an American horror film written and directed by Ted Geoghegan and starring Andrew Sensenig and Barbara Crampton as grieving parents who find themselves the focus of an attack by vengeful spirits.

It’s great! The film didn’t waste any time and dive right into the spooks. It’s not scary for me, but it was still fun and entertaining to watch.

Housebound (2014) -- is a New Zealand horror comedy film written, edited, and directed by Gerard Johnstone. It is his feature film directorial debut. The film stars Morgana O'Reilly as a woman sentenced to house arrest in a potentially haunted house.

It’s great! It’s a perfect mixed of horror and comedy. I had fun watching it and would definitely recommend, especially when you want something that’s not so heavy on the horror.

The Devil's Backbone (2001) -- is also known as El Espinazo del Diablo is a Spanish gothic horror film directed by Guillermo del Toro, and written by del Toro, David Muñoz, and Antonio Trashorras. The film is set in Spain, 1939, during the final year of the Spanish Civil War.

After losing his father, 10-year-old Carlos arrives at the Santa Lucia School, which shelters orphans of the Republican militia and politicians, and is taken in by the steely headmistress, Carmen, and the kindly professor, Casares. Soon after his arrival, Carlos has a run-in with the violent caretaker, Jacinto. Gradually, Carlos uncovers the secrets of the school, including the youthful ghost that wanders the grounds.

It’s more sad than frightening. Sure, it’s advertise as a horror movie, but it’s actually a melodrama. There’s still ghost(s), but they’re not the main focus point. I’ve heard that this film is a spiritual companion piece to his Oscar-winning Pan's Labyrinth (2006) and I can see why.

It shares similar themes and is also set against the backdrop of the Spanish Civil War, a brutal conflict that turned ordinary men into monsters. The Devil’s Backbone is great, but I prefer Pan’s Labyrinth a whole lot more because I feel like it goes to a another level.

The Cellar (2022) -- is an Irish-Belgian supernatural horror film written and directed by Brendan Muldowney and starring Elisha Cuthbert and Eoin Macken. It follows a family whose daughter disappears in the cellar of the large estate they have just moved into.

I enjoyed it! At first I thought it was going be a typical haunted house story with maybe a demonic possession thrown in. But no, it pleasantly surprised me by going in another direction and I wasn’t expecting it at all: cosmic horror.

When it hit that point, it got me so excited and I was like yiss. I wanna know more. Some of my excitement fizzed out when the other layer was revealed, but not enough to ruin the whole thing.

I’m surprised there aren’t more people talking about this movie. So I looked it up and I don’t know why the critics are being so harsh on it with their ratings and reviews. It’s not 2-stars or trash. I’ve seen terrible films and this isn’t it. It’s not perfect. There are some parts that could’ve have been trimmed down, removed or improved upon, but for being filmed during COVID, in which wearing mask, social distancing and quarantine was in full effect, it turned out pretty decent.

Give the film some slack. They made do with the situation, their low-budget and time constraints. Oh, I didn’t find it scary, but I still enjoyed it. It’s not everyday I get surprised with elements of cosmic horror in a film.

His House (2020) -- is an British horror thriller film written and directed by Remi Weekes from a story by Felicity Evans and Toby Venables. It stars Wunmi Mosaku, Sope Dirisu and Matt Smith. The film tells the story of a refugee couple from South Sudan, struggling to adjust to their new life in an English town that has an evil lurking beneath the surface.

It’s definitely not a 'scary' movie by any means, but it effectively uses elements of horror. I still very much enjoyed it! It’s a multi-layered horror film that’s not just about a haunted house. It takes you on an interesting journey about grief, guilt, immigrant experience and the on-going refugee crisis. It’s a really well-done film and with great performances from Mosaku and Dirisu. I would recommend!

The Haunting in Connecticut (2009) -- is an American supernatural horror film produced by Gold Circle Films and directed by Peter Cornwell. The film is alleged to be about Carmen Snedeker and her family, though Ray Garton, author of In a Dark Place: The Story of a True Haunting (1992), has publicly distanced himself from the accuracy of the events he depicted in the book.

The film's story follows the fictional Campbells as they move into a house (a former mortuary) to mitigate the strains of travel on their cancer-stricken son, Matt. The family soon becomes haunted by violent and traumatic events from supernatural forces occupying the house.

Eh, it’s okay. Throughout the entire movie I kept getting the sense that it was familiar. I was drawing a blank, but it wasn’t until halfway into movie that I remembered it.

This is the problem with including older movies onto my watch list and not keeping track of what I’ve seen already. If it's terrible, boring, or doesn’t bring something new to the genre. I will forget it.

Also, this is one of those movies where you have to constantly adjust the volume. I really hate it when the dialogue is super low, so you increase it only for the loud jump scare noise to nearly blast your ears out.

Note: What’s interesting is I went into this thinking I’m going to be scared, only to realize that none of these movies have managed to do so. I don’t know if it’s because I got a higher tolerance to spooky things now or if it’s because I’ve seen everything and it’s hard to be scared of something when you know what’s going to happen next (or can correctly predict it).

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ithisatanytime · 2 years

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中山美穂「CATCH ME」1987年

i know im going off but this really needs to be said, christians according to the western widely accepted view of Christianity are supposed to forgive their enemies no matter what, always all the time. by this interpretation of the gospel we are conveniently completely without recourse if say a hostile tribe of steppe people wanted to impersonate our ancient ancestors and then used this position of power to rape our kids and cut their dicks off, we would simply have to love them! thats a tough pill to swallow because i love my so- err daughter but jesus said and i mean damn i just want to grill for petes sake! the flip side of this interpretation we are commanded to love hitler! theres no getting around this, either there are no exceptions to the love thine enemy commandment or there are exceptions! no mention of hitler, racism, or genocide in the bible, so therefore we are commanded not just to tolerate hitler but to love him. well thats easy as hell for me because i do genuinely love hitler, and next to Jesus there has been no greater hero on the face of the earth period!

indeed we are commanded to love our enemies and to forgive our brothers infinitely, for we are all one in christ jesus EXCEPT! some of us clearly arent, john 8:44 has the man jesus christ himself talking to a contemporary of his, a fellow jew, the jew says basically “are we not both children of abraham?” and jesus responds “if you were of my father you would do as my father does, but instead you tell lies and murder people like your father the devil who invented those things” im paraphrasing but just google john 8:44 and if im even SLIGHTLY misrepresenting this i beg you to correct me. but thats not all, our lord and savior, the gentle lamb, FASHIONS A FUCKING WHIP AND WHIPS JEWISH MONEY CHANGERS IN THE TEMPLE, and not only that he is prophesied to return in revelations with a FLAMING SWORD FOR A TONGUE, WEARING A BLOOD STAINED ROBE AND LEADING AN ARMY AGAINST THE SYNAGOGE OF SATAN. who are they? are we supposed to l-love them?

rev 2:9 and 3:9 are virtually the same, look them up yourself, behold i will make of them the SYNAGOGE OF SATAN, who say they are JEWS BUT ARE NOT and i will make them to worship at your feet so they know i have loved you.

i am constantly i feel doing a balancing act on here with the religious side of the present and the science/historical side, i came to my conclusions the secular way first and only after did i find out there was no dichotomy at all between my two understandings of the world. but its more about perception here, i wouldnt want the skeptically minded to see my posts about the bible and presume i developed my worldview without skepticism or scientific rigor, likewise when i talk about the culture of critique and how modern judaism functions as a group evolutionary strategy i would put off my christian brothers and sisters. regardless this post is still relevant whether or not you are a christian are in any ways religious, its about a hypocritical manner in which a religion is taught and practiced.

#youtube

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kiwibirbs-library · 3 years

Text

Nightmares

a/n: so like.. uhh... how’s your day? Cause mine said work and think of this babe the whole time. Oh you too? Cool cool.

YALL THIS IS AFTER I WROTE THIS ITS SO LONG OMG OK I NEED TO GO READ THROUGH WOW

Pairing: Keith kogane x reader

Warning: uhh nightmares ya ya that. That’s it

Summary: you get nightmares, fairly bad done at that. And one night you just can’t do it anymore and go to the nearest occupied room. And suddenly it becomes a tradition.

You were rescued from a prison break. The only thing that made you special was that your entire planet was massacred and you had absolutely nowhere to go.

That was almost 6 months ago.

That’s how you ended up where you are now. In a near empty room of the castle, trying to fall back asleep. This was the fifth time you had a nightmare this week. This was the fifth time you had had to relive the vivid torture. The fifth time you’ve been curled up in a ball, tears streaming, trying to just breath through it.

After about 10 minutes you sat up. You couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep going off of two hours of sleep. You really couldn’t keep hearing Shiros ‘you ok?’ Every morning when you showed up looking like the living dead.

You grabbed your blanket and wrapped it around yourself before waking to the door. The faded walking lights were enough to keep you from hitting anything as you stopped at the nearest door. Hopefully it was someone who could help you. Just to talk to if you could. In other words— as much as you enjoy him— not Lance. You gulped as you knocked on the door. You weren’t expecting it to open as soon as it did.

Keith stood in the open door way, rubbing an eyes slightly as his vision adjusted to see you clearly.

“Y/n?” His voice was raspy from not talking for a while.

“Um hi,” your voice broke in the middle. His brows furrowed as he noticed your stained cheeks and red nose.

“Are you ok?” He squinted at you a bit, still not completely able to see you.

“Uh actually could I um... stay here for a bit.... please,” it all came out whimpery and cracked. You felt kind of pathetic. You half expected him to tell you where Shiro was and go back to sleep with how long he took to respond. But no. He backed up a bit and gave you room to come in. You smiled a little up to him and shuffled in. He sat on his bed and watched you slightly as you made your way down to the floor.

He didn’t exactly know why but he didn’t like the idea of you laying there. It was clean sure, and he definitely would have let anyone else sleep there, but he couldn’t in good conscious just leave you there. Especially with how red and wet your face was when you passed him. He cleared his throat a bit and you looked up at him from your spot. He patted the mattress beside him and you got the idea, getting up and sitting next to him.

“So... what’s wrong?” He looked at your hands as they twisted into each other. You bit your lip.

“Um well, lately I’ve been having these.. um... nightmares. There of the time in the prison. And the um... things that happened,” you gulped. There was a slight pause.

“You don’t have to force yourself to talk if you can’t,” Keith sighed a bit. You looked over to him to find a surprising look of worry on his face. You were taken aback by how understanding he looked. From what you knew of him he was that loner of the group, the one that didn’t talk much and did his own thing, only worrying about himself (and Shiro as you observed). But sitting next to you wasn’t someone that didn’t know feelings of others. It was more like someone who could understand what was happening with you.

“I get nightmares too you know. Of course I’ve never been tortured like you or Shiro were, but they still get to me pretty bad,” he said bluntly, leaning back on his hands. You sighed and brought you knees to your chest, a tired look in your eyes. “You can go to sleep if you want, it would be good for you,” he said without looking at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled a little. “You know, your a lot nicer than I thought you would be one on one,” you laid down slowly.

“I’ll take that as a complement?” His words had the slightest sound of amusement with them. It brought a calming blanket down on you.

In no time your were completely knocked out, Keith leaning up against the wall, also falling asleep as he made sure you didn’t wake up.

~~~~

There was a vibrating from under your head, waking you up. You weren’t fully awake as you felt the air on your skin without opening your eyes. You felt something come underneath the pillow and stop the movement before leaving. Your brows furrowed slightly as you moved even closer to wherever the thing had come from. Without moving much you hit something, immediately running a hand down the back of it before falling back to sleep.

Keith was also awakened by a vibrating. More than you obviously as this was his alarm every morning. So when he turned it off to keep you to sleep and you moved closer he very much noticed. And then your hand ran down his back and made him shiver. He was a blushing mess. He couldn’t even say anything as you stuffed your face into his chest and stayed asleep. Without even knowing it he was smiling at you, moving some hair from your face before he thought about it. You pushed yourself forward a little more, turning him onto his back as you used him as a body pillow. For the first time in a while he had to hold back a laugh at the movement.

You both stayed like that for almost an hour before you groggily got up finally. When you saw the position you immediately started apologizing for what happened. He waved you off, his normal stern face back as he sat up and met you in the middle of the room.

“Calm down its fine, I don’t really care. Anyways we should leave, we’re about to have the morning meeting,” as if the castle could hear him the intercom turned on with a loud beep and Alluras voice came on.

“Meeting time! Hunk made food as well,” and she was gone. You smiled at the idea of Hunks cooking.

“Oh shoot I need to change,” you looked down to your pajamas.

“Meh Lance Never does don’t worry about it,” in truth Keith was just stalling to continue seeing you in them. He really didn’t understand why but he liked the sight. You both left his room before walking the halls to kitchen. Mostly everyone was there, the only one not was Lance unsurprisingly. You waved a bit as you took a seat next to Pidge, Keith to you. They looked at you both with a smile before going back into their talk about something technical.

You tried to listen as you ate but your thoughts drifted to the night before and this morning. A light pink hit your face at the thought. You smiled a little as you put the spoon to you mouth.

~~~~

These sleepovers quickly became something usual. In some instances you wouldn’t even go back to your room, just straight to his with him. At one point he told you to bring some clothes over to change so now you had your little pile in the corner of dresses and shirts. The most awkward part of it would have to when you both began cuddling consciously. You felt hot as Keith put a very hesitant arm on you, his constant ‘is this ok?’s making you laugh a bit.

You didn’t know when but at some point you started taking the sessions in for more. You would always smile at the thought of Keith. Your eyes would always wonder the room in search of him. If the found his you would gaze for a moment before looking away.

Keith knew exactly when he took after hours for more. He knew exactly what he was doing when went to his room at the end of the night, waiting impatiently for you to show up. He knew exactly what he wanted when he asked you to bring some clothes over, his idea for you to spend more time there working amazingly.

The day you got found out though was the most embarrassing moment of your life. Even worse than Pidge calling you out for staring at the boy. For one thing you were more tired than usual that morning due to training the previous day. So while reaching for a pair of leggings you missed and grabbed Keith’s spare sweatpants. Honestly you didn’t even think about how big they were as you threw on your jacket and left. Keith had left before you to meet with Shiro so you were alone and the first in the breakfast hall. By the time you stood up everyone was there as well. Keith’s hand flew to his face to hide the bright red that flushed his face when he noticed. He wasn’t going to say anything, he didn’t really want to. He would have to resist the urge to hide your normal pjs in favor of you wearing his for the next week.

“Aren’t those a little big on you?” Pidge commented.

“Huh?” You looked down and blushed a bit at the clothing. “O-oh ya, haha. Um i saw them at the mall we went to the other day and picked them up,” you coughed.

“Wow really those look like what Keith was wea—“ Lances mouth was covered and his head was dragged down by Keith’s arms. Everyone looked between you two with skeptical look before you slip out the door with a ‘well then’.

That was the catalyst of Lance following Keith to his room and hour later. He was droning on about something when Keith stopped in front of his door. He never had time to clean up this morning. Your clothes were probably still scattered in different areas. He cleared his throat.

“What?” He looked to Lance you was waiting patiently for the door to open.

“Oh I wanted to see what your room looked like. I’m bored and have nothing to do today,” he gave a dramatic sigh. Keith blocked the door.

“No.”

“Whaaat?? Why nooooott? How long have we known each other? Shouldn’t we have more trust????” Lance whined. “Besides whaaat Y/n in here the other day?”

“No,” Keith stayed. Then you came down the hall. You had went to your room in search of a pair of pants before realizing they were still sitting on the edge of Keith’s dresser. Maybe your other jacket was still on his bed if you were lucky. When you saw Lance you made a turn to leave the way you came too late.

“Y/n?” Lance called. You stopped and turned back to him.

“Hey Lance, what’s up?” You smiled a bit and walked a little closer. Keith was happy to hear your voice but also bit his lip at the predicament. You were probably looking for your favorite leggings. The ones you left here the other night. Bad timing.

“Oh I was wanting to see inside Keith’s room! What about you?” You continued talking to Lance, at one point giving Keith a side glance to say to go in. He quickly slipped into his room and started picking up your things and hastily putting it places, most went under his bed. In all honesty he didn’t mind too much about everyone finding out about your sleepovers. He did mind however about the teasing that would come with it.

The door clicked and slid open, Lance walked in with a nervous you glancing around after him.

“Wow it’s so boring in here,” Lance sighed, draping himself over on top of you. “There’s nothing in here how do you live like thi—“ he stopped when he looked over the floor. He saw something light blue poking out from under the bed. Keith tensed when lance moved it out with his foot. The jacket dragged out a few more clothes with it, all definitely not Keith’s and very obviously yours.

“Y/n did you know your clothes are— OH MY GOD NO WAY!!” He jumped away from you and looked between you and the mullet boy. “YOU TWO ARE A THINGGG??”

“No no we’re not!” You held up your hands and tried to explain. You missed Keith’s small and inaudible ’yet’.

“Then why are your clothes here? Are there more?!” Lance asked, gesturing to the small pile on the floor.

“Um well, sleepovers?” You rubbed your hands together. Lance turned to Keith.

“What does that mean?”

“Well what do you think a sleepover means? Honestly,” he crossed his arms. Lance turned back to you.

“How many times??”

“Ah ha ha um... multiple?” You looked over to Keith to find he was already watching you. You whipped back to Lance. As if the universe told you you weren’t getting out of this easy, Pidge and Hunk passed by the open door. They peered in a you heard a little laugh.

“He finally figured it out? Hah we knew weeks ago,” the small girl laughed a little, pushing her glasses up.

“You two knew?!!!” Lance whined as he left the room to join those two in the hall. Keith, quicker than you would have thought, moved and pressed a button to close and lock the door. You heard a muffled ‘hey’ before footsteps that eventually faded away. He sighed. You gave a little laugh.

“That your first choice in hiding?” You giggled.

“Shut up,” he gave you a smile and a glance before flopping down on his bed with a groan. “This is why no one comes in here.”

“Aww I feel so special,” you giggled again as you climbed on top of him. You laid you head down as he dragged you completely on top of him. “By the way, about what Lance said.” Keith looked down to you. “What are we anyway?”

“Well, I’d prefer the privileges of boyfriend all the time. But if you wouldn’t then I don’t mind waiting,” you put yourself up on your arms at his directness.

“What?”

“What?” He repeated.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the closed off feelings guy? What was that?” You look at him bewildered.

“I will not hesitate to leave you here alone,” he gave you a playful glare. “Answer my sentence though.”

“What?”

“Do I get privileges?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you looked away before sitting up fully. “You get to tell everyone though,” you smiled a bit.

“Ugh why,” he groaned and put his head to the side. His hands naturally rested on your hips. You both had been doing this so long you never even took it as something weird with the way you straddled him. You laughed a bit at him when he pinched your sides a bit.

“Deal?”

“Deal,” he smiled before pulling you a little closer and finally doing what he had been wanting to for the past month, finally kissing you.

#voltron #keith kogane #keith kogane x reader #Keith x reader #lance #Pidge #hunk #shiro #Allura #Coran #team voltron #voltron fanfiction

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bifilthatonthatseson · 3 years

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Jiang Cheng timeloop AU - Chapter One

AO3 link

Jiang Cheng wakes up. His siblings are dead.

He knows it immediately. Even sleep could not take that loss from him. It followed him down, haunting him, twisting his dreams into torment. Memory has always been his curse: to remember, always, all the hurt he has received. A-Jie is dead. Jin Ling is an orphan.

And Wei Wuxian -

His mind flinches away from his brother’s name. He can’t.

Someone knocks on his door.

For a moment he simply cannot believe what he hears. The Yunmeng contingent had stumbled back from the massacre exhausted, bloody, and grieving, so late that the sky had already been lightening to its pre-dawn deep blue. His sister is dead. (And his brother-)

Who in the name of all the gods would dare disturb him the morning after all of that?

Jin Ling, he thinks suddenly, terror galvanizing his heavy limbs. No one would disturb him for anything less than a catastrophe. He thrusts the blankets aside and struggles into his outer robes. “Enter,” he calls as he hurriedly begins tying up his hair.

He can’t see who enters, hidden as he is behind the privacy screen by his bed, but he recognizes the tread of his head disciple. “My apologies, Sect Leader,” Jiang Xinyi says, with that particular tone she has perfected that contains no apology whatsoever. “I came to enquire when you want the disciples ready to leave for the pledge conference.”

Jiang Cheng stops mid-motion. His body flashes hot all over, then icy cold. “The pledge conference?”

“Yes, Sect Leader. The one today?” She sounds almost amused now, or as amused as she allows herself to be when on official sect business. But she and Jiang Yanli were friends. Last night she had looked as drained and hollow eyed with disbelief and grief as any other of Jiang Cheng’s disciples. How could she possibly sound amused?

And how could she possibly be talking about the pledge conference?

His gut churns. He doesn't understand. He defaults to anger. “How dare you discuss such things so lightly!”

Silence. He might even characterize the silence as “startled.” Her lack of reaction infuriates him more. Settling the lotus guan over his finally finished hair, he storms out from behind the screen, Zidian sparking on his hand. “Talking of the pledge conference as if it were some pleasure boat, when instead -”

As he rounds on Jiang Xinyi, several things come to his attention. First: she looks fine. Healthy, well rested. There are no signs of grief, nor of emotion imperfectly suppressed. Second: her arm, which Jiang Cheng knows for a fact had been broken in two places, is neither in a sling nor obviously giving her pain. Third: she has raised her left eyebrow just slightly enough that he can’t call her on it, but that clearly conveys that if she were a less well-trained disciple, she might question her Sect Leader’s sanity.

“Sect Leader, are you well?” Despite the eyebrow, there is no hidden sarcasm in her voice. He must look terrible enough to engender genuine concern.

Jiang Cheng wants to shout at her. How can he be? But there are too many things here he doesn’t understand. “I’m fine,” he snaps. He sees the skeptical expression that she is too slow to hide. “The conference,” he says, testing. “The disciples are ready?”

“Yes, Sect Leader,” she says, without a single note of distress in her expression or voice.

Jiang Cheng makes a snap decision.

“Tell the juniors that I’ve changed my mind. I want a larger group here to guard Lotus Pier in my absence. I want all juniors to remain behind, especially those under sixteen.” Those are the ones who had been decimated - yesterday? - when the fierce corpses ran mad after Wei Wuxian -

He shudders all over. No. No.

“With all due respect, Sect Leader,” Jiang Xinyi begins.

“Tell them,” he interrupts her. It’s rude - almost intolerably so - but he is her sect leader. She snaps to attention and bows. “Yes, Sect Leader.” It’s amazing how in her mouth, the common phrase he hears all day long can sound so much like a rebuke.

She leaves, and Jiang Cheng is left alone in his room to contemplate the impossible. His mind sends up flares, beacons of information he has been ignoring: his own body feels fine, relieved of the bone-deep aches where even his newly strengthened golden core had been unable to relieve the agony of muscles pushed to the breaking point. He had spoken to Jiang Xinyi without pain, when he knows that last night his throat had been a column of red fire from screaming.

Suddenly he has to see for himself. He takes the briefest moment to make sure his robes are on correctly, his guan straight, before storming out of his room so fast he manages to startle the guards outside his room into an attack stance.

Jiang Cheng stalks around Lotus Pier like a man possessed. He bursts onto the training grounds, into the dining hall; he throws open doors in the barracks where the disciples are housed, rousting those who have not already risen. He saves the infirmary for last. Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, he forces himself to open the door.

The room is empty. Jiang Cheng walks briskly from one end to the other, searching, even though he can see all the way to the back of the room from the front. His footsteps echo in the empty room. Even the healer is missing, off on some unknown errand.

He barely makes it to one of the beds before he collapses on it.

The dining hall and training yard are full of healthy, uninjured disciples. All of them are present - including those Jiang Cheng had personally seen missing limbs yesterday. The infirmary is empty.

It wasn’t real.

His heart pounds. He tries to hold his head in his hands, but his hands shake so badly he can’t manage it. Was it a vision? A dream? It had felt so real.

A-Jie, his heart cries. A sob escapes him before he stifles it ruthlessly. He can’t bear the thought of anyone hearing their Sect Leader fall apart over a nightmare.

If it was a dream, then his sister is alive.

If it was a dream, then his brother is alive.

Wei Wuxian.

All the thoughts Jiang Cheng has been suppressing, has been refusing to think since he woke up in a world that didn’t make sense, flood back in and drag him helplessly down.

Wei Wuxian had lost control. Wei Wuxian had killed Jiang disciples. Wei Wuxian had allowed a fierce corpse to strike at their sister’s unprotected back, and he had watched as A-Jie threw herself in front of him to prevent him from dying and then hurled himself off a cliff, heedless of her sacrifice, making a mockery of her death even as he refused to allow Jiang Cheng to avenge her properly.

Except it didn’t happen. None of it had really happened.

Relief makes him weak. He can’t get a hold of himself, can’t stop the small sounds that escape him no matter how he tries to suppress them. It was a nightmare, or a curse, to be so real. His mind, exhausted and strained over the problems his shixiong has caused, had invented some horrible story to torment him. But it isn’t true. There is no world in which Wei Wuxian would allow Jiang Yanli to be hurt.

Except Jin Zixuan is dead, his brain reminds him. That brings him up short. Jiang Xinyi had mentioned the pledge conference, which means that Jin Zixuan truly has died. Yanli has already been hurt.

It still seems impossible to Jiang Cheng that Wei Wuxian murdered A-Jie’s husband, even using the Ghost General to do so. The problem is that there is nothing else to believe. There were witnesses. Even if those witnesses could not be trusted, Jin Zixuan’s body bore silent witness to exactly what killed him, and it could have been nothing other than a fierce corpse. True, Wei Wuxian had never liked him, and true, he had not been at their wedding, to see how genuinely, truly happy A-Jie had been, how even Jin Zixuan’s peacock face had gone soft and wondering at his good fortune when A-Jie had been led towards him. But still, Wei Wuxian wouldn’t -

This is pointless. He knows it’s pointless. He can’t understand it. He hasn’t understood Wei Wuxian’s choices for months, maybe years. He desperately wants another explanation for what happened than that his brother opted to murder their sister’s husband. He doesn’t have one, but he does have both brother and sister alive to demand answers from.

Jiang Cheng wipes at his face with the sleeve of an inner robe. It comes away wet. He meditates as best he can, circulating his qi until his eyes and face feel normal.

He can still feel the dead weight of his sister in his hands. He remembers, viscerally, the way her body had cooled as he screamed, as he sobbed, as his head disciple (the wrong one, always the wrong one) had forced him up and took him away from the battlefield, gathering up what was left of the Yunmeng disciples and bringing them all back home.

Jiang Cheng stands up. He has no idea what happened to him last night, or what will happen today, or what choices Wei Wuxian has made or why he made them. But he does know one thing.

Jiang Yanli is alive. She is alive, and Jiang Cheng swears by all his ancestors and all the gods that she will remain so.

#jiang cheng #wei wuxian #jiang cheng timeloop au #my fic #yesss chapter one #hoping to update weekly #the draft is 20k and rising

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nobodylivesson · 3 years

Note

Hi!! How are you doing? I hope you're fine with the pandemic going around, so I want to request Jin-woo x fem reader, where reader is a guardian spirit in a dagger he got from clearing the demon castle and she's attached to Jin-woo now cuz he's really strong? It's fine if you don't want to 🤗 anyways remember to drink water😘

The Silver Dagger

Fandom : Solo Leveling

Paring : Sung Jin-woo x Guardian Spirit! GN reader

Requested? Yes

»»————>❃<————««

Jin-woo huffed a little as he examined his now red-stained clothes

“Ah it has become such a mess but they weren’t matching my size recently. Guess have to buy new clothes soon” Jin-woo thinks as his eyes look at the bodies of Hwang Dong-Suk and his companions

“The association won’t let this slide, have to come up with an excuse and also have to make Jin-ho quiet about this” Jin-woo thought eyeing the orange hair guy who seemed to be puking from the look of the bodies

Jin-woo and Jin-ho eyes meet for a slip second causing Jin-ho to puke more while Jin-woo sighed

Suddenly something silver caught Jin-woo’s eyes and tilted his head to see a dagger at the corner of the dungeon. After walking close to it he could finally see how the dagger looked

The dagger was a mix of silver and black, with the handle having a very beautiful carving of a person dancing and a person standing at the tip of the dagger’s cover. The whole thing was made of fine metal which was intact without any scratches or marks

“A dagger? It doesn’t seem like a drop so what is it doing here? And it seems to be in very good condition….Was it one of those guys? Hmmm…..” Jin-woo wonder after he picked up the dagger

But he couldn’t ponder much as the dungeon started to shake making him snap his head towards the ceiling

“The boss has been defeated so it means the dungeon is going to close soon. Let’s get out of here” Jin-woo says towards Jin-ho who just meekly nods before getting ready to leave

Not thinking much Jin-woo decided to take the dagger with him and inspect it at home since leaving such a good looking dagger here would be a waste

But it seems this decision of Jin-woo is going to give him much more than what he would have thought

»»————>❃<————««

Jin-woo looked at the dagger at his hand with raised brows as it doesn’t seem to enter storage and Jin-woo had to wrap it at a cloth provided by Jin-ho before bringing it in his hoodie’s pocket

The more Jin-woo examined the dagger the more his curiosity grew and new questions raised

“Where did this dagger popped out of? Was it really from one of the guys from the dungeons? If so, then why didn’t they used this against him during the fight? Why wasn’t Jin-woo able to put the dagger in the storage if this dagger was a part of the system?”

Jin-woo just sighed and plopped down on his bed as his hands moved from the top of the dagger to the bottom when he realized he hadn’t taken the blade out of its cover

So bringing his right hand to the handle, Jin-woo tried to pull it but was surprised it didn’t come out

Yet he still shrugged it off and now with much more strength tried to pull it again which much to his relief finally came out

The blade was shinning as if it was made just a few moments before Jin-woo found it and when he brought it close to his face, the blade reflected his face as clear as day

“Well no matter how weird and mysterious, I can’t leave a good thing behind so I guess I can use it in my next raid” Jin-woo thinks and tilts his head when for a second he thought he saw something appear on the blade

Jin-woo jerks himself straight and examines the blade carefully but as one expected nothing was there

“Am I tired and hallucinating things? Well today was an eventful day, guess I would be sleeping early today” Jin-woo mumbles while massaging his eyes

A sudden knock to his door made Jin-woo stop what he was doing and immediately put the dagger at the table before covering it with the cloth he brought it in

When he looked at the door again, Jin-woo saw Jin-ah was peaking through the door

“A guy named Jin-ho has called and asked for you” Jin-ah says to which Jin-woo nodded before saying “Understood, I’m coming” as he started to walk towards the door

Suddenly Jin-ah screamed causing Jin-woo to quickly look at her to see his little sister looking at something behind him with utter shock

Jin-woo turned around in time to see a shape forming which with each passing second seem to turn more and more into a person

And in 1 minute, a person appeared in Jin-woo’s room out of nowhere who looked like a foreigner and was wearing clothes that looked like were of the medieval time?

But Jin-woo realized that the appearance wasn’t important now and in an instant Jin-woo was standing in a defensive position before Jin-ah

“Who are you and how did you enter my room?!” Jin-woo cautiously spoke with a straight face and cursed inside that there was no weapon in his hand at the moment

Jin-woo didn’t know what kind of a being this person was they just appeared out of nowhere. So a tense atmosphere spread across the room as stayed behind Jin-woo and gripped his cloth in fear at what might happen while Jin-woo thought of what he can do to make sure Jin-ah got out of there safely if the situation got messy

But all the tension broke down when the intruder suddenly smiled before saying “Hey, hey, you don’t need to be so cautious I’m not dangerous and it’s you who brought me here” while pointing at Jin-woo

“What?” Jin-woo says when he feels a stare towards him making him look down to see Jin-ah looking at him with questioning yet suspicious eyes

“Hey, you saw him appear out of thin air so how could I have brought him?!” Jin-woo says in panic as if everyone has turned against him to which Jin-ah says “I don’t know what you hunters can do so….suspicious” causing Jin-woo to shout “HUH?!”

This caused the intruder to laugh before they in a cheery voice said “What I meant was you’re the one who brought this dagger, so it’s you who brought me in the house cause I live inside the dagger”

A silence fell between all three of them before Jin-ah and Jin-woo shouted “Eh?EHHHHHH?!”

»»————>❃<————««

“Well let me introduce myself, I’m [Y/N] [L/N] and I have been trapped in this dagger for more than 100,000 years due to some kind of curse. But I guess I can also be called a ‘Guardian Spirit’ of the dagger” the intruder or [Y/N] says cheerily as they sat in seize-style

While Jin-ah and Jin-woo who was sitting opposite to them on the sofa were intrigued and baffled respectively

“How do you expect us to believe you like that?” Jin-woo says with a frown to which [Y/N] chuckles before saying “Yes, believe or trust isn’t something that could be gained just by a mere talk and we need evidence to prove it. But unfortunately, I don’t have the means to prove myself trustworthy yet maybe if you heard my story then I can gain some of your trust?”

“Story doesn’t give anyone the right to be trusted” Jin-woo says his face becoming serious now with a cold gaze to which [Y/N] without even being fazed says “But I want you to believe me” while tilting his head to the side, happiness shining in his eyes

Jin-woo gets taken back and blushes a little because [Y/N] look kind of cute so he brings his left hand to cover his face

Jin-ah who has been nervously watching all this jumps at the chance and says “Hyung, let’s listen to what they have to say. I don’t think someone bad would say they can’t be trusted and then ask us to trust them with a story”

Jin-woo wasn’t convinced but a tiny part of him wanted to know about this person called [Y/N] who appeared out of nowhere and now was sitting in front of him with a smile

“Okay” Jin-woo says with a sigh causing [Y/N]’s face to relax a little, a nostalgic look now replacing his smiling face as he says “This is the first time I ever told anyone…….I was from the [C/C] but I was orphaned and I was owned by a wealthy merchant. I knew my fate was to be sold to some people long enough but then one day he arrived, my master. He was a scholar from South Korea who had come to [C/C] for some work and saw me being displayed by my owner. I still don’t know why he did it but he brought me that day and took me along with him back to South Korea. I thought he only brought me so I can do work for him but he taught me how to read, write, cook, and skills to live. My master was someone who saved me and gave meaning to my life, so I decided I would for the rest of my life serve my master. But then one day at night, my master took me and brought me to a cliff before thrusting that dagger into my hand. He said ‘Please live on and forgive me’ before pushing me down the cliff. I don’t know what happened after that as I was enveloped in bright light but then I woke in a dark place. Over years I realized I somehow got imprisoned inside the sword, would never age again, survive any kind of disaster, and my master long dead. I wasn’t able to draw out of my cover by anyone and was constantly sold. So that’s how I moved from different parts of the country and saw all this from inside the sword. But then you came and drew it out, being able to give me the opportunity to at least come out. I don’t know how he was able to do it and I don’t know why he did it but I have long accepted I won’t ever get answers to these questions. Well, that’s my story.”

It was a long story and [Y/N] was already past the age of grieve, learned to go over it with passing time. Their personality and the things taught by their master was what kept them true to themself

When [Y/N] was amused to see Jin-woo looking skeptical and Jin-ah looking like she is going to break into tears any moment

“I think that-” Jin-woo started by Jin-ah interrupted him by saying “It’s very sad that it happened with you,[Y/N]!! If you’re the guardian spirit then do you take care of the dagger as well?” making [Y/N] laugh a little before saying “I’m fine, Jin-ah. It’s been a long time and I’m very happy that I could come of the sword in my physical form after so many years. And yes! It’s because of me living inside it that the dagger is so shinny and sharp even after so many years”

Jin-woo sighs and says “Jin-ah don’t we need to make sure he is telling the truth?” to which Jin-ah huffs before saying “Hyung, you don’t need to be cruel. I have been observing [Y/N] since the time they came out and they don’t look like someone who wants to harm!!”

Jin-woo sighs even louder before saying “Just because they look innocent doesn’t mean that they would be innocent and why are you so adamant that this person isn’t a bad person?!” to which [Y/N] quietly adds “Well one more thing I forgot to add is that I can’t do much except getting out of the dagger in a physical form and make sure it’s always in a great form. Also to come out I need to be very near the dagger or else I would be forced again inside the dagger, it seems. So you can have control over what I can do” while showing how taking the dagger away from them starts to make them fade slowly

“We can’t be a bad person to someone who looks very happy to be finally being able to come outside. And if [Y/N] can’t do much in this form of their then it’s not a problem right?? If you still have doubts keep [Y/N] with you for few days and take them around Seoul so you can see if they are telling the truth! Won’t you do that hyung??” Jin-ah says while giving puppy eyes

[Y/N] suddenly perked up when they heard this and looked at Jin-woo with shining eyes before asking him “You would do that for me???” happiness radiantly from them

Jin-woo moves back a little with an unbelievable look as his little sister and [Y/N] bring their faces close to much

“Okay okay fine! I would do that!” Jin-woo says while covering his face out of frustration in a tired face as his sister cuteness along with [Y/N]’s cute eyes were too much for him

Jin-ah and [Y/N] jump around the room in victory, the dagger still in [Y/N]’s hand as they talked about what [Y/N] can look at around Seoul

Jin-woo eyes the dagger before it travels to [Y/N] face which he finally has to admit is very cute

Even if he wasn’t sure about [Y/N] he can’t just dismiss after looking at [Y/N] through this whole ordeal that they are indeed very cute not only face wise

A blush rose to his face at what he was thinking before he sighed and rested his face in his palms before thinking “What have I gotten myself into??”

»»————>❃<————««

Hello everyone this is my first ever request and I'm so happy that I'm finally done with it!! Thank you for re-reading my rules and changing your request as well! I didn't wanted to miss the chance to write for Jin-woo as my first request. I don't know how it is and if it matched what the requester wanted to miss writing this me to write(I hope so for even a little bit it did) Anyway if you want a re-written version of the request you can drop by in my ask box, I won't mind!! Also in a few days, I would be done with the other request as well so stay tuned!

#solo leveling #sung jin woo #sung jin ah #jin woo x gn reader #gn!reader #request #solo leveling x reader

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p---ink · 4 years

Text

What’s On Your Mind?

Author’s Note: Hi :) Remember me? I’ve missed you guys, and Tumblr altogether. I felt absolutely guilty about not writing, but the writer’s block was strong on this one guys. And while I’ve had lots of ideas for stories I couldn't quite put them onto paper...or screen. Anyway, wanted to try something new. So this one is about a Thor! I dedicate this one to you @swaggysposts since I know you love Chris Hemsworth. Its pretty short, but still, tell me what you think, my love!

Summary: Avenger reader has a crush on the god of thunder.

Warnings: some lite language and fluff.

Word Count: 4.7k

Part Two Part Three

“I’m sorry? Did I hear that right? You said you can what?” Mr. Stark asked, without a doubt forgetting that there were stranger things in the world.

Clearing my voice, and speaking a bit louder I say, “I can read minds, sir.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Stark voiced out loud placing a sleek pair of sunglasses on his face. He was still pretty skeptical of my claims, but another part of him was very anxious. Or would the word be embarrassed? Mortified? Yes that was definitely the perfect description.

Whatever the feeling was, I knew the cause was because he knew that if what I was saying was true, he would have to start groveling because of the dirty thoughts that raced through his mind when we first introduced ourselves.

‘Forgive me for looking Pepper, but this girl has the ass of a professional volleyball player’ was what he thought as he opened the door for me on the way in.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking though, because It only works through touch.” I lie, as I watch his worry fade away. I needed this job, and I couldn’t be disqualified because of harmless thoughts that we could all be guilty of sometimes. Besides it wasn’t Tony’s fault: these jeans did do wonders for my bottom.

Something told me though, that if this Pepper weren’t in the picture, he’d have no problem saying what he thought of me out loud. And he was a handsome man, couldn’t be much older than 40, so maybe in another universe I’d consider him. Not this one though.

“Hey Kid,” Stark started, interrupting my own inappropriate thoughts, “just saying ‘I can read minds’, wont be enough. You’ll have to prove it.”

“Of course! Sorry—” I was cut short by the sound of the thick glass doors of the conference room being slammed against the walls.

A brown haired boy with deep chestnut eyes, that looked as frantic as the rest of his face, rushed out apology after apology as he took his seat next to the older man.

Tony, who hadn’t spared the younger boy a glance, said, “Ah, perfect. Tell me what he’s thinking.”

‘Spiderling’ was the name he had assigned him through thought. As I concentrated on his confused features, he looked from me to Stark.

“What who’s thinking? Is Dad—I mean Mr. Stark, referring to me? How could she possibly do that? Oh God, he hasn’t said a word to me since I got here. He must be really upset because I’m late. Geez, I hope he doesn’t take Karen again. I’d rather he kill me.” I repeated, after relaying all of the boy’s thoughts as fast as he could think them.

“Is she right?” Tony asked the boy. He felt both amazed and amused. Amazed with me, and amused by Spiderling for thinking of him as a dad. He would never let him live that one down.

After swallowing his astonishment, and turning his attention from me, Spiderling answered “Yes.”

“Good. And at least we both agree on your punishment. I’d rather kill you, too. Saves me less trouble in the future.” Tony stated. He was punishing him because apparently this was the third time he’s been late to the interviews he was supposed to be in charge of.

Spiderling let alarm overtake his features, but before he could say anything, Tony continued on with more questions.

“Do you have any other skills, we should know about?”

“Well just a bit of hand to hand combat. But it still needs a lot of work. Other than that no—”

“How did this happen?” Spiderling interrupted, wonder getting the best of him.

“Kid,” Tony starts, but he goes ignored by Spiderling.

“Were you bitten by some kind of radioactive insect like me? Or are you super smart like Mr. Stark? Or perhaps it was gamma radiation like Dr. Banner! Or maybe a super serum like Mr. Rogers!—”

“Don’t make me remove your batteries, junior!” Tony interrupted, then he looked to me. “I’m sorry. He’ll keep going if you don’t nip it in the bud early.”

But he didn’t have to tell me that. His own mind, like Spiderling’s, was racing a mile a minute.

“No its fine really. He’s just curious.” I reply with a chuckle. “And to answer your question Spiderling: maybe I was born with it, or maybe its Maybeline.”

I began to grow embarrassed by their silence at my terrible joke, until Spiderling stifled a chuckle. “I get it!” He said between snickers. “Wait why’d you call me Spiderling?” He asked. ‘Is she picking on me?’ He thought.

Needing to correct his thoughts to clear up any offense I say, “No! I would never pick on you, I just thought that was your name because Mr.—”

“Y/N, was it?” Tony interrupts, yet again. “I think you’d make an excellent addition to our team! When can you start?”

“Really?” I ask gleaming, ignoring the fact that he wanted me to shut for outing what he really thought of his younger protégé. “I can start right away! Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” He hurried. “F.R.I.DAY, will prepare your room, and Peter here will show you around.”

At that Peter hopped to his feet mind racing with thoughts of excitement on the hopes of a future friendship. “Follow me!” He said, grabbing my hand.

“Not so fast, champ. I need to speak with Ms. L/N alone for a moment.” Tony stated, nodding at Peter as he excused himself from the room.

Tony cleared his throat, and relayed his thoughts, thoughts that were hard to separate from Peter’s louder ones earlier. “So Y/N,” He started towards me, leaning in close as he chose his words carefully. “I couldn’t help but notice, that you didn’t need to touch Parker nor I to read our thoughts. Care to explain?”

Flustered at being caught I stumble across my words as I try to explain, “Ah yes, well its rare, but sometimes I don’t need to touch the person.”

“Mmm.” Tony hummed, not believing a word I said, and I knew then the gig was up.

Cocking my head, and wearing a semi-sympathetic expression I say, “Don’t worry. I don’t even know who Pepper is.”

And before Stark could protest, I ran to Peter’s side, so we could begin the tour around my new home.

That was all a little over eight months ago. And so much had changed now. Peter’s hopes became true. We were the best of friends. His boy-like charm never grew old to me, and nor did my gifts to him.

“Cerulean” I’d say, when he’d think things like ‘What’s your favorite color?’. He always thought questions like that as a sort of game. I never got tired of playing along.

It seemed to never click in his mind though that he could never scare or surprise me when he hid behind corners or couches, because I could hear his thoughts before he got the chance to.

But besides the little stunts he’d try to pull by hiding his thoughts in order to frighten me, Peter was as transparent as they were. The boy was an open book, and he rarely kept a secret. It made us perfect friends, because he never seemed to get tired of me knowing every single detail about him.

Though the other avengers treated me like family, Peter seemed to be the only one welcoming of my “gift”.

If you asked Steve, he’d think something along the lines of “I’m too old for this shit” when I’d answer questions he hadn’t had the chance to ask. Then he’d immediately curse himself, for thinking a swear word when I’d tease him with one of the team’s inside jokes, like “language.”

Bucky tried his hardest to keep his thoughts in a vault, but it never worked. I knew exactly how many dead bodies he had under his belt, and where he kept his hidden stash of plums.

Natasha, however, never tried to hide her kill count. She always made it a point to up the number by one as a threat to me, every time I accidentally crept inside her head. I always made it a point to keep my distance whenever she was deep in reflection.

Banner was interesting. His mind had two voices of course, and neither one of them gave a shit about whether I heard them or not. There were the deep thoughts that I struggled to understand most of the time, then others were one-word sentences only. They were louder than the rational side of his brain.

“La, la, la, la, la”, was literally all that Sam would think whenever there was something he wanted to hide. Sometimes he’d do it just to piss me off, because he knew if I said to ‘knock it off’, he could accuse me of evading his thoughts in the first place.

In truth, I never tried to read what they were thinking. I found the process invasive, and distracting from my own feelings. I worked hard to shut it all out, doing my best to make truth of that lie I told Stark all those months ago. But it was very draining, and took more energy than my body could exert. One person was easy enough to ignore, but more than ten, proved to be a task.

Most of my entire life I spent working in order to shut out all of the world around me. I avoided crowds whenever I could, blasted my music through my headphones whenever I couldn’t, and made sure to drug my body heavily with painkillers and vitamins whenever the last two weren’t options.

It was so much work just to go out into the world. So much work until I met him.

The son of Odin was the only person whose thoughts I would pay to hear. Coincidentally, he was also the only person who’s thoughts I couldn’t read. I could never hear him, I would only ever feel him. He radiated a rare intensity I had never felt before. His thoughts, or should I say feelings, even managed to drown out all of those around him. I had no choice but to focus on him whenever he was around.

When I was with him, he literally clouded my brain. I didn’t have to work to shut him or the others out. He did it for me.

I usually thought that was refreshing. But in the time I grew to know him, I found it mostly frustrating at times.

You could say I liked him, but that would be putting it lightly.

Liking someone for me, was a rare luxury. My crushes were always narrowed down to celebrities, and other people who didn’t know I existed.

It was a pain to date people whose thoughts about you were always on display.

And if you thought dating was hard as a telepath, try having sex. Imagine being able to hear all of your partner’s most inner thoughts about the faces you make when you cum, or discovering that you have a small birthmark on your ass that you would otherwise know nothing about.

Yeah, it wasn’t the greatest experience.

I had never experienced the actual joys of feelings for someone, and wondering if they liked me back. Thor was my first. And chances are, he would never feel the same way.

He was a literal god, and he lived up to that fact. I was just an average Midgardian, with a silly school-girl crush. It would never happen.

Silly thing that Fate was. She had to make the only man I found irresistible, unattainable too. What a bitch.

“Hey. Are you ready?” Natasha asked referring to our daily training.

“Yes, what’s on the agenda today?” I ask, a bit confused that she isn’t in her workout attire.

“Well you’ll h–”

“What? Why?” I squeak, before she can finish her thought…well before she can finish her sentence. According to her thoughts, I’d now be training with Odinson.

“I think you’ve graduated from me, kiddo. You can read my thoughts fast enough to predict as well as react to all of my oncoming moves.” Natasha relayed, a hint of sadness detectable through her words. Though she behaved like an older sister to me, she would miss throwing me around on the mat. “We’ll have to see how you do against someone whose actions you can’t predict, just in case that problem comes up out in the field.” She informed me while walking away, before I could confront her.

“Can’t it be someone else?” I yell to her, but she doesn’t answer.

“You wound me, Y/N.” That deep familiar voice bellowed from behind me. “And here I thought you enjoyed my company.”

Oh you have no idea, I thought to myself, as I spun on my feet to face him. I craned my neck to peer up at his eyes. One was a pretty hazel, while the other a deep blue. Cerulean. Funny how he’s the reason I’ve grown so fond of the color after all of these months.

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I just don’t think its fair is all. You know? With you being a god.”

“You’re worried you won’t be able to handle me? Do not fret. I wouldn’t dream of giving you more than you could handle.” He said, wiggling his brows suggestively, while flashing a smile. I suppose I failed to mention that he was a massive flirt that could put even Tony Stark to shame. “I promise to take it easy on you.” He furthered, smirking and winking his hazel orb.

“Why do I feel like your idea of taking it easy is vastly different from mine.” I say, trying to settle the butterflies.

“Whatever you’ve heard about me is nonsense. I’m a merciful master.” He assured. “We’ll just do some light work today: of course we’ll start with stretching, then 30 laps around the facility to build your stamina, a few hours of work on the machines to build your muscle—because my lady you are a dainty little thing, and then we’ll end the day with an hour or two of sparring.”

At the sight of my dumbstruck face, Thor says, “I’m sorry that must be too light. How does 50 laps and three hours of sparring, sound?”

“Are you joking?”

“You’re right. I have some matters to attend to on Asgard, but I think we can squeeze in 75 laps, take it or leave it.”

Realizing how deathly serious he was, I quickly say, “I’ll leave it. Let’s get started.” Deciding to address the subject of excessive training later, I turn to begin my stretches.

Quiet. As usual. I was alone with my thoughts, which was something that only happened quite literally when I was alone. I couldn’t help but be immensely aware of his presence.

Moments like these i’d die to know what he was thinking. Especially when I could feel his stare. It burned worse than fire on my skin.

Fire couldn’t compare to his actual touch, however. The same touch I now felt on my upper back. For a man who weighed over 600 pounds, he was as stealthy as a cat when he wanted to be. His thick fingers against my spine raised goosebumps to my flesh. I would have jumped out of my body if he wasn’t there to keep me grounded.

“My apologies. It was not my intention to startle you.” He informed, through a deep hearty chuckle. “I just needed to correct your form. Your time on the field will suffer if you continue with your training like this.”

“Oh.” I replied, tensing a bit as one of his hands traveled around to my stomach and the other pushed against my spine to straighten my posture. My mind was hazy, and if I had even understood the words he spewed a moment ago, that status now changed.

“It all makes me wonder what the Lady Spider has been teaching you.” He continued, as if he didn’t notice the change in my demeanor. “Better.”

When he stepped away from me, I released a small shaky breath. “What’s on your mind?” He asked. Maybe he did notice the change.

I mentally decided that I would ask him the months-long question I had always wondered about. “What’s on yours.” I state instead of ask, trying to resume my stretches.

“Pardon?” Thor asked. “Do you wonder about what is I ponder? Or is that your answer?

“Both.” I say without hesitation. “Why can’t I read your mind?”

“I’m afraid that’s by design, my lady.”

I stop stretching and turn around to ask, “How?” He had my full attention now.

Shortly after he corrected my posture, Thor had propped himself up against one of the machines to properly examine my form while I stretched. I tried to ignore how awkward that made me feel.

“Since an early age I’ve had to learn to guard my thoughts.” He stated. “My brother is the God of Mischief, and Loki often played games of the mind. Mother took notice of how much it was ailing me, and taught me a few useful tricks on how to keep him out. I guess I’ve always practiced them, even in his absence. I don’t know if I even know how to stop it.”

“Oh.” I breathed out. Trying to make sense of his words.

While I was doing that, he asked,“May I ask why it is you wish to know? I thought you hated your gift.”

“I do. But I guess it still feels odd to not be able to use it on someone. I have no clue what you’re thinking let alone how you feel about me. It unsettles me.” I immediately regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out.

His reaction did not aid my embarrassment. A thunderous laugh erupted from his throat. It was the kind of laugh that you could feel in your abs, and I knew this because his whole torso shook as it spread through his vocal cords. He was genuinely amused.

His amusement prompted me to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“How I feel about you.” I think he mutter softly, before following a little louder to himself, “It’s weakened you.”

“What did you say?” I never had to ask someone to repeat themselves unironically, until I met him.

“Your ability I mean. It has impaired you.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I think the word is ‘spoiled’. Yes that seems to be the perfect descriptor.” He teased.

His words made me feel small and silly. Almost insignificant. “Excuse me?”

Sensing my irritation, he quickly told me, “I meant no disrespect. Its just most of your kind and some of mine are not awarded the same privileges that you have. We rely on body language and hidden meanings behind words to determine how someone feels. Well with the exception of me of course, because who would not adore me?” He joked. “But that’s beside the point. You have not yet learned how to read between the lines. Which is why I unsettle you.”

“I know how to read body language, I’m not an idiot.” I say a bit more sharply than I intended. My sense of inferiority getting the best of me.

“I’m not implying that you are, just that if it were not for your talent you would know have known what was on my mind ages ago.”

“That makes no sense. If I couldn’t read minds, i’d be in the same place I am now: unable to know what it is you think.”

“My dear, even if you could read my mind it would make no difference, for I’ve already made my feelings towards you painfully clear. One need not the aid of your capabilities.”

“Thor, could you stop the riddles—”

He ignored my pleas and kept going. “But just to be explicitly clear this time, since obviousness is lost on you—”

“Stop insulting—”

“I shall tell you how I feel about you.” He stepped and leaned in closer, as if what he was about to say was a secret meant for only my ears. “Listen closely because I will say this but once, so be wary not to misunderstand: I desire you.” He explained, words dripping with the utmost sincerity.

My brain started racing. And I suddenly realized just how close he was. “You desire me?” I repeated to myself.

“Yes. I desire you.” He stated again, anticipating my uncertainty.

If my heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. My poor ribcage wasn’t built for this.

“A-A-as a friend right?” I stutter out. “Because we aren’t, we aren’t close, like the rest of the team? Yes,” I breathe out. “That has to be what you mean.” I say that last part more to myself than to him. Clearly I’ve misunderstood his words, even though he warned me not to.

“While I would value a companionship, I’m afraid that is not all I mean when I say I desire you.”

“Eerr” Words are hard to form all of the sudden. Stammering out sounds is all that I can do.

The air around us stilled, and it was pregnant with silence. He gave me a moment to think before asking, “Would you like further explanation.”

“Yes please.” I rush out quickly. “I think that will clear things up a bit more.”

“Right it would. Well If you wish to know what’s on my brain when you’re near, I shall tell you.” His words are teasingly slow, and he knows this.

"But I doubt,” He continues, “i’ll be able to properly convey just how bad I long to be in your presence when you are gone. Just how much I battle myself when it comes to finding any excuse to touch you. As you know, I lost one of those battles today. I don’t know if you can handle, just how much I imagine your warm embrace to be. How tender I’ve imagined your lips to feel. I just know them to be softer than rose petals and sweeter than nectar.”

“In fact,” He started. I could almost physically see the lightbulb go off over his head. And then, he began ridding us of the rest of our space, extending his long arm to snake around my waist, and pulling me against his chest at a speed faster than lighting. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put that theory to test.”

It was like a lucid dream. I was only allowed to watch everything play out before me, without the luxury of making any actions myself. It took great focus on my part to even will my head to move. My nod was so subtle I was unsure if he could even see it. But the God of Thunder had more than enough to go off on.

He joined the hand around my waist with his other, and shortly after I could feel my feet rise from the ground. My hands that were previously glued to his chest, found their place behind his neck to support the rest of my body. His head met me the rest of the way, before he blanketed his lips over mine.

He released one of the hands around my waist, to bring it up to my face. His fingers, now fastened to my jaw, slightly parted my lips allowing him to further explore my mouth with his. As massaged my tongue with his own, I could feel his eyelashes dance across my cheeks. That’s how close he was.

Most beards are scratchy and rough, but his felt like silk against my skin. His lips were even softer, and were like velvet in comparison.

I inhaled the scent of rain on freshly cut grass. It reminded me of dewy meadows and Irish springs. His touch was firm, but he managed to hold me with care, like a bull who had trained for years with the sole purpose of entering a china shop.

He tasted like what summer felt like, if you could make sense of it. The kiss had the same intensity behind severe thunderstorms. Beautiful but deadly. I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff: desperate to chase this thrill, but also wary of whether or not it was worth dying for.

I mentally decided that I could expire in his arms, and be perfectly content with that decision.

I got more into it. I thought that if this was a dream I’d take full advantage of it. Surely dream Thor would be fine with me taking over the kiss. It felt only natural.

I decided it was time for my tongue to do the exploring. My lips needed to memorize the feel of his. My hands wanted to study every strand of hair that lived on the nape of his neck. That was only fair right?

I was enjoying his embrace so much, that I mistook the spinning in my head for shock from kissing a god, instead of the telltale signs of an impending headache. The lack of air in my lungs was because he took my breath away in a figurative sense, instead of the literal physical sense it actually was. The ache that spread throughout my body wasn’t because of the suffocating grip he had to keep me pressed to his chest, but because our bodies were on the brink of fusing into one.

On second thought, maybe dying in his arms is more painful than I previously thought.

I tapped out, and he immediately released me, placing me gently on the ground. I struggled for air, but it was like he didn’t miss a beat. Not a drop of sweat in sight on his gorgeous face. Instead, I could see a bright smile forming.

“Are my thoughts clear enough, now?” He asked, breaking out into smirk.

But I had no time to acknowledge his joke, for I could feel reality setting back in. And reality is, I was a flustered fuck.

“I’m sorry.” I stammered. “I must be holding you from your business on Asgard!”

“What? No—”

But he had no time to argue, for in a flash I was already gathering my gym bag and heading for the door.

“What about your training?” I heard him yell.

“I’m sorry! Maybe another time!” And after that, I practically sprinted to get out of earshot before he could protest or stop me.

I raced passed Peter who was on his way into the gym. “Y/N! Are you okay?” I heard him yell. But what was strange is that I couldn’t hear him think it, despite being more than enough distance away from Thor.

“I’m fine.” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t follow. Maybe Peter’s mouth was faster than his thoughts.

No. That wasn’t it, because as I raced through the tower, everyone’s minds were silent, even though they were chatting casually with one another. That never happened.

I burst through the nearest lady’s room, desperate to calm my nerves, when I saw Natasha applying red lipstick. The action by itself wasn’t disturbing, but the expression she wore was.

“Don’t tell the others.” She voiced, in a threatening tone.

“Don’t tell the others what?” I asked confused. Maybe she’d be able to take my mind off of things.

She looked at me like I had grown two heads, much like the first day we met when I proved that I could read her thoughts. “I know you read them. But this is different Y/N, the guys will never let me live this one down.”

“Nat, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the date.”

“You’re going on a date?” No wonder she was so panicked. The woman was more comfortable with killing than she was with being vulnerable.

“Yes—What is wrong with you?” She half-yelled, interrupting herself as if she just realized something was wrong.

I had, had enough with trying to not think about him, because the task was damn near impossible so I decided to just say it. “Thor admitted his feelings for me. And then we kissed!” I cried.

Oh, Nat mouthed, taking a more comfortable position against the bathroom sink. She leaned against its counter, and crossed her arms,“And now you can’t take your mind off of him.”

It was my turn to look at her like she was a lunatic. “How did you know that? Are you a mind-reader too?”

Song for the Chapter: Waiting For You by the Aces: Pretty Self-explanatory lyrics. Think of the song from Thor’s POV

part II

A/N: If you made it this far, don’t be afraid to tell me what you think :)

#thor #thor imagines #thor x reader #thor fluff #thor x black!reader #avenger reader #mcu imagines #black avenger reader #fluff #chris hemsworth #black!reader #black!writer #thor ragnorak

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astro-rain · 4 years

Text

delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf

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stressy-enby · 3 years

Note

Hello! So here's my request:

The 1-A girls including reader are having a girls night in one of their dorms playing Minecraft (teaching Momo how to play for the first time), giving out study tips, eating snacks and watching movies, etc... When their in a topic about their crushes and reader shyly tells them it is Tenya Iida... While the girls are shocked and ask a lot of questions why iida much to reader whos not really liking the questions, the girls decided to help reader out by setting both iida and reader on a date by grabbing readers phone and texting iida, much to readers protest and what the girls don't know is that the boys are having a boy night at the common room too and doing the exact same thing, helping iida out to finally ask reader on a date.

so yeah, haha that's all and you can add your own ideas there and can this be a oneshot? I also want to see the perspective of iida if that't possible? I hope this is okay? thank you!! ☺

Took a few liberties, included some personal touches, I’m really happy with how this came out and I hope you are too!

Risks

Masterlist

Weekend nights in Heights Alliance were arguably the best.

Mr. Aizawa was more flexible about curfew on Friday and Saturday nights, so the class took those nights as opportunities to have slumber parties and late night get-togethers.

This was one such night. You, Ochaco, Tsu, Momo, Toru and Kyoka had gone to Mina’s dorm room with snacks and games in hand. Your hostess had offered up her wide selection of video games and her Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ accounts. Toru had even come through with an impressive assortment of face masks, nail polish, and hair accessories. Needless to say, everyone was more than set for a night of careless fun.

“Wait, how do I craft something?” Mom held her controller out to Kyoka, brows pinched together.

“This button, here,” she took the controller, demonstrating by crafting an axe.

Upon realization that Momo had next to no knowledge of Minecraft, the party had abandoned its Super Smash Bros. tournament in favor of showing her the ropes. You’d vowed to help her make a simple house by the end of the night.

“Pro tip: make sure you collect all the same type of wood.” You suggested, eyes focused on the white stripes you were attempting to paint onto Tsuyu’s light green nails with some success.

“Yeah, unless it’s on purpose, like if you use a different wood for the roof or floor, it’s just gonna look like you hobbled it together in less than a minute.” Mina agreed, before promptly shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

Ochaco gasped playfully, swiping the bowl away. “Don’t eat all of it!”

“I’ll eat whatever I damn well please!” Mina retorted, making a grab for the snack as Ochaco floated it over to Toru.

“Okay guys, I can’t take it anymore.” The invisible girl grabbed the bowl out of the air. “We’re all together, hanging out with zero stress for the first time in months! Does anyone have anything juicy to share? Someone’s gotta have something!”

Kyoka rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I didn’t come to gossip.”

“This class is a pretty tight-knit group, ribbit. Nothing really happens that we don’t all know about.” Tsu pointed out.

“Okay then. Crushes.” Mina prompted.

“What about them?” Momo asked.

“Who’s got ‘em?”

There was a moment of silence. You noticed how a few pairs of eyes flicked to Ochaco, who had gonna very red and very quiet. You sighed, musing to yourself about the things you did for friendship.

“I, uh, I kinda like Iida?”

You hated how you phrased it like a question. You hated how you mitigated the confession with the word “kinda”. You hated that silly, totally inadequate word “like”. Your feelings for Iida went beyond a simple crush. You’d had them for him for months now, you were long past the “like” phase. You were head-over-heels in love.

Toru gasped dramatically. “Really? Iida?”

Ochaco smiled at you, gratitude evident in her eyes. “You two would make a sweet couple.”

“What do you like about him?” Mina asked excitedly. “When did you fall for him? Are you gonna confess?”

“Take it easy,” Kyoka chuckled lightly.

You also laughed, albeit uneasily. You were beginning to regret not keeping your mouth shut. “Okay, I’ll take those one at a time. He’s kind and attentive, and he’s very loyal. I think I realized that I liked him a few weeks after the sports fest, and absolutely not.”

“Why don’t you want to tell him?” Momo asked, pursing her lips. “I think he’d appreciate the honesty.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t wanna make things weird between us or potentially ruin our friendship.” You explained “I don’t wanna jeopardize what we have now by confessing.”

“Plus, Iida doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’s want to date someone, ribbit.” Tsu put in, examining her newly painted nails. “He’s very serious. He’d probably see it as a distraction, these are really pretty, (Y/N), thank you.”

You smiled weakly at your frog-like friend as Toru threw a piece of popcorn at her head. “Tsu!”

“No, she’s right.” You sighed heavily, motioning for the popcorn bowl, intending to drown your sorrows and maybe yourself in it.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Momo patted your back sympathetically as she passed the bowl down. “I can’t imagine how frustrating it is.”

You hummed in agreement as you shoveled the snack into your mouth. “Whatever. It sucks, bur I’ll get over it.”

“Like hell you will!” Mina snapped “Ochaco: our romantically challenged friend’s phone, if you please?”

Ochaco dutifully and bemusedly took your phone from Mina’s bedside table and handed it over to her.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, suddenly on high alert.

You were ignored. Mina instead took your hand, and placed your thumb over the home button on your phone, unlocking it.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Kyoka asked.

“Texting Iida.”

It took you a few seconds to process her words and what they meant. Once you had, though, you made a sudden grab for the phone. “Oh no you’re not!”

“Chillax, I’m not gonna send him anything embarrassing.” Mina swatted your hand away as she scooted safely out of your reach. “I’m just gonna suggest that you two go out sometime and heavily imply that it’ll be a date.”

“Now hold on,” Momo cut in, setting down her controller. “We shouldn’t be interfering. This is between (Y/N) and Iida.”

“Yeah, if (Y/N) wants to ask him out, they’ll do it themselves, ribbit.” Tsu chimed in.

Mina sighed, slumping. “I know you’re both right, but I can’t just let them wallow! Iida really likes you, (Y/N)!”

“Oh yeah?” You raised both eyebrows.

“Yeah! He’s a lot softer with you then with anyone else!”

“He does tend to let you get away with things,” Kyoka admitted. “Remember the other day when you were sitting on your desk? The guy didn’t even bat an eye.”

“He also seems like he talks to you more than he does the rest of us!” Toru pointed out.

“Plus he worries about you more than the rest of us!” Ochaco added on.

“He looks more relaxed around you.” Tsuyu threw in.

“Sometimes when we have class representative meetings, he’ll offhandedly mention you.” Momo reported thoughtfully. “He’ll tell me about something you said or did that he found funny or endearing. It’s actually pretty adorable the way he talks about you. It’s like his whole face lights up.”

You were quiet for a very long moment. It was too good to be true. You liked playing it safe. You kept your cards close to your chest until you were absolutely sure you had the wining hand. And if you’d learnt anything in your hero education, it was that sometimes you needed to take a risk.

“Can I have my phone, please?”

Mina tossed it to you. Without another word, you navigated to your messages, and typed something out quickly. Before you could reconsider, you took a risk.

You hit send.

. . .

This isn’t actually all that bad.

When Kirishima and Kaminari had suggested a “boys’ night”, Tenya had been apprehensive at best. He was all for class bonding activities, but what was the point if it was only a fraction of their group?

“(L/N) and the girls are having a sleepover, so we may as well something ourselves.” Sero had pointed out.

Despite his skepticism, Tenya found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. After admitting he’d never seen a Marvel movie, Midoriya had immediately logged the common room TV into his Disney+ account and began the first ever 1-A Marvel movie marathon.

“Ugh, does this mean we have to watch Age of Ultron?” Ojiro groaned “That one sucks.”

“Yeah, but at some point I’m going to make Iida watch Wandavision.” Midoriya replied “Ultron is important to understanding it, sucky as it may be.”

“That’s not gonna be for a while if we’re watching every single Marvel movie, though.” Sato chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna need more than one night for this shit,” Kaminari chortled “Wandavision not withstanding.”

Tenya smiled, not quite following but listening all the same. He suddenly felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

(L/N): Random question. Want to go out and get dinner tomorrow, just the two of us?

It was indeed a random question. He had no qualms about spending time with (L/N) though. Even if it was just the two us them. Especially if it’s just the two of us. Tenya quickly shook the thought away though, feeling he’s cheeks flare.

Me: That would be great! Do you have a time and place in mind?

(L/N): Would 6 be ok? As for the place… would you be up for a surprise?

Tenya hesitated. Usually he’s say no. He liked everything to be perfectly planed to a T. But something about (L/N) made him want to be spontaneous. They made him want to take risks. So he decided to do precisely that. He threw caution into the wind as he sent his response.

Me: 6 is more than ok, and I’m always up for a surprise if it’s with you.

Tenya cringed immediately after hitting send. The instant regret was crushing and depressing. He wished he could be honest about his feelings, about (L/N) without overthinking every move he made.

Oh well. What’s done is done. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, praying you wouldn’t respond. However, his plea went ignored a minute later when he felt his phone vibrate yet again.

Biting back a groan, Tenya opened his texts, inwardly bracing himself.

(L/N): Awesome! I’ll meet you at 6 in the common room tomorrow, then. Can’t wait! ❤️

He gaped. That tiny red emoji wormed not his brain and burned itself behind his eyes until that was all he could see. He barely even registered the rest of the message.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Iida?” Kaminari, never one to understand personal space, leaned over to glance at the class rep’s phone phone before he could angle it away. “You sly little- IIDA HAS A DATE!”

“No I- that’s not- Kaminari!” Tenya sputtered incoherently, arms flailing. “That was entirely inappropriate. You shouldn’t look at other people’s devices without their permission. It’s rude, demeaning, and an invasion of privacy!”

“Forget that, what’s this about a date?” Sero leaned in on Kaminari’s other side.

“Iida and (L/N) were texting,” Kaminari announced “They asked him out to dinner, he said yes, and they send a heart emoji.”

“What color?” Aoyama demanded, squinting.

“Red.”

“Oh my,” Aoyama leaned back in his seat, a coy smirk playing across his lips.

Sero chuckled, leaning across Kaminari’s lap to pat Tenya on the arm. “You lucky bastard.”

The blue haired boy brushed his hand away, bristling. “Not that my personal activities are any of your concern, but it’s not a date. We’re just going to get something to eat.”

“I’m not an expert or anything, but I don’t think many people go out one-on-one for dinner if it’s platonic.” Midoriya pointed out.

“Yeah, plus, that emoji says a lot.” Kirishima added “(L/N) clearly means this to be a date. If you don’t feel the same way about them, you need to tell them.”

“You don’t want to go on a date with (L/N)?” Todoroki asked, raising an eyebrow “I would’ve thought you’d be happy for an opportunity like that.”

“See! Even Todoroki can see you’ve got it bad for them!” Sato exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the confused heterochromic boy.

Tenya ignored his overly-excited classmates. He flipped back through his conversation with (L/N), staring at every text until he’d inadvertently memorized them all.

Me: Is this a date?

. . .

“So much for subtly, I guess.” Kyoka remarked.

“Subtly gets you nowhere with Iida!” Ochaco insisted “You have to be upfront with him!”

“But I sent him a heart,” You groaned for the fourth time.

“Well, there’s no sense in bemoaning it now.” Momo reasoned.

“It was a calculated risk.” Toru admitted, an undercut of worry in her voice.

“A risk, huh?” You chuckled humorlessly “I seem to be taking a lot of those tonight.”

Ding!

Seven pairs of eyes darted to your overturned phone at the same moment. No one moved an inch.

“Well,” Tsu nudged you “are you going to look at it?”

You gulped, shakily taking the device. The girl’s gathered around you. As you opened your text messages.

Iida: Is this a date?

“No backing down now!” Ochaco squealed, gripping your shoulders tightly and shaking you.

“Go, go, go, go, go!” Mina bounced on her knees like it was a sporting event.

You took a deep breath, then texted back.

. . .

(L/N): That was the idea, lol. It doesn’t have to be if you don’t want it to be, tho

Tenya pursed his lips, showing the response to Midoriya.

“C’mon, Iida.” His friend chuckled lightly “Just tell them the truth.”

The truth. He did want it to be a date, but a simple “I want to go on a date with you” didn’t seem sufficient. It wouldn’t do justice to how he really felt.

Tenya had already taken a risk tonight, so what was one more? But knowing what he now knew about your feelings, it didn’t seem quite so scary anymore.

Me: I’d love nothing more than to go on a date with you, (L/N). Truth be told, I’ve wanted to for a while now, I just haven’t had the courage to ask you myself. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. ❤️

#mha #bnha #iida #tenya #tenya iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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lacontroller1991 · 4 years

Text

You’re Safe (Platonic!Daryl Dixon x Platonic!Reader)

Anon Request: hi! If you’re not super busy, can you do a platonic twd imagine where the reader (15/16yo) is living alone in the woods and often sneaks into Alexandria to steal supplies, one day she gets caught and rick and the others take her in?

Anon Request: I’m not who requested reader sneaking into Alexandria but I'm excited for it! If you’re still taking requests I’m a sucker for anything father figure Daryl or the group taking in the reader, I just think that relationship is so cute and wholesome to read.

A/N: I am going to combine these two requests into one as they both follow the same narrative if that's alright.

Warnings: mention of rape

Walking. Walking is all that you do. Ever since your parents died a year ago, you kept on walking in hopes to find something or someone to rely on for a while and not yourself. So when you first came across Alexandria, you were skeptical. It looked too nice and too pristine for being in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Walking around the outskirts of the town, you looked at the fences for any weak points in which you could exploit and possibly take some food or supplies. You had decided to wait for night to take over before nudging a small enough space to wiggle your small body into. You cautiously looked around the town, scoping out where most people would go for food and weapons. After noticing them going into a townhouse, you ran along the railing and hid below the staircase while the members of the community walked down the steps.

After waiting a couple of more minutes, you peered out from below the steps to look around. Once noticing it was clear, you crawled out and into the open air before tiptoeing up the steps and entering the building. Looking around, your eyes widened when you noticed all of the guns and ammo, and even more important all of the food. Searching through the rows of food, you started to shove cans of everything into your bag, making sure to take just enough to keep you going and hopefully enough that no one will notice anything missing.

You went every week like clockwork, always making sure that no one was around when you sneaked into the cabinets and out of the community, however, today you weren’t so lucky. You made your way to the small opening you had created a while ago and peered through the hole to make sure no one was around. Laying on your stomach, you began to crawl underneath the metal to the other side only to be stopped when you felt the barrel of a gun pressed against your forehead.

“Get up,” a young masculine voice spoke as you looked up. Standing above you was a boy around your age wearing a hat and sporting an eye patch. He had his gun trained on your forehead as you raised your hands up. Putting away the gun back in its holster, the boy grabbed your arms and tied some rope around your wrists.

“I don’t mean no harm. Let me go,” you begged as he scoffed and glared at you before shoving you toward the street and leading you to a house. Guiding you up the steps, he opened the door before shoving you in, causing you to stumble across the door frame and into a room of many people, all eyeing you.

“Found the person who’s been sneaking in,” the boy spoke as a man with a beard and curly hair walked toward the two of you.

“Carl, I told you not to go out at night,” the man spoke as the boy behind you stood still but lowered his head.

“I know, I just wanted to know who was stealing the food,” he replied to whom you assumed was his father the way the two stood in front of each other. The man sighed before turning his attention to you.

“Who are you and why have you been stealing our supplies?”

“I’m nobody. I need food, which is not easy to come by out there,” you spoke in an aggressive tone, asserting the fact that you weren’t intimidated by the group.

“Who are you?”

“What? Are you guys with the Saviors? Do you want me to say ‘I’m Negan’? Not gonna happen,” you spat out as the man standing in front of you as well as the rest of the group looked at you in surprise.

“With the Saviors? We’re in a war with them.” Carl spoke as you whipped your head around to him and raised an eyebrow.

“You know Negan?” Another man with shaggy hair asked, eyeing you with slight pity, trying to imagine why a teen would know Negan and his group.

“Know Negan? That bastard? His men raped my mom in front of my dad and then killed the both of them in front of me. He just sat and watched,” you whispered, trying to suppress your emotions as the group looked at you sympathetically, “look, I’m sorry I stole from you guys. I really am. Can you guys just let me go, I won’t come back.” You spoke as the man with the beard looked at the guy with shaggy hair.

“What if you stayed here?” He asked gently while the other man untied the knot around your wrists, freeing you.

“That’s awfully generous, but I don’t know you guys. You could be with them,” you stated as the man with the beard looked at his son who shrugged his shoulders.

“We’re not with them. You’re welcome to stay with us,” the man stated as you looked around the room skeptically and made eye contact with the guy who had shaggy hair who simply nodded at you, giving you reassurance despite you still not knowing who he was.

“I don’t know you guys.”

“I’m Rick Grimes. You already met Carl, my son. This is Daryl,” he motioned to the man who had shaggy hair and who had nodded at you, “this is Aaron, Rosita, Tara, and Michonne,” he finished after pointing everyone out that was in the room, “what’s your name?” He asked softly as you looked down at your dirtied pants that were dotted with blood stains and mud.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you replied, looking up at Rick who gave a small smile and nodded.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here,” he offered as Daryl stepped forward. “She can stay with me, I have extra room,” Daryl stated, shocking the group.

“Why don’t we get you settled in. Get you a shower,” Michonne mentioned, causing your head to shoot up.

“You guys have showers here?” The group chuckled and smiled, nodding their heads as you looked to Rick.

“I might stay after all.”

It had been two months since you had moved into Alexandria. You and Daryl had gotten close, him taking a more fatherly approach to you, knowing what it’s like loosing family. You walked by his side in silence as the two of you wondered around the forest, hunting for some food, a past time that you have taken up recently.

“You know, my first boyfriend hunted. Though it was more for sport,” you reminisced, frowning at the thought of killing all of those ducks for game and not meals.

“You’re what? 16? Ya had a boyfriend?” He asked in confusion as your lips curled into a small smile, keeping the bow in your hand taut.

“Yeah, the only one though, kinda hard to keep a relationship when he’s a walker,” you chuckled bitterly as Daryl quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Ya happy ‘bout that or sum’?” He asked, sweeping over the trees and trying to find squirrels.

“Yeah, just because he was a boyfriend, don’t mean he was a good one. Glad he got bit.”

“Damn girl, remind me not to get on ya bad side.”

“Dully noted,” you whispered, taking aim at the tree, releasing your arrow and stabbing a squirrel.

“You’re getting better.”

“You taught me,” you replied as his lips turned up in a slight smile and shook it off.

“It ain’t nothin’,” he muttered as you rolled your eyes.

“Daryl, you’re the closest thing that I have to a father now, if you haven’t taken me under your wing, I don't know what I would have done.”

“Rick woulda taken ya in.”

“Yeah, I know, but he already has Carl and Judith to take care of, it wouldn’t make sense to add another person to that mix,” you spoke, not noticing how he stood still and fell behind you.

“Would ya rather of had him take ya in?” Daryl asked through clenched teeth, trying to not let the hurt show.

“Of course not, I already told you. You’re the closest thing I have to a father and I owe my life to you for taking me in,” you responded, turning around and hugging him around his waist, waiting for him to hesitantly wrap his arms back around you.

“You’re welcome.”

A/N: This was so longgggggg. Hope you guys enjoy!

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