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notallwonder · 1 year

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Alrighty. Here we are. Criminal Minds 16x06, "True Conviction". I've already seen it a couple times now, but I wanted to do one of these anyway.

Spoilers and extremely long play-by-play under the cut.

I'm unreasonably psyched for this

this technobabble doesn't wholly make sense to me. why would GPS matter?

obvs the most recognizable thing about JJ is the symbol of her marriage, great

lmao this is how I know I'm way down the rabbit hole for Paget - when I first saw Garcia's "bring 'em home, Emily" line, my brain helpfully supplied the sound of Arden Myrin's hilarious impression of Peter Pilot's mom Barb crying "Bring her hooooooome, Peter!" iykyk and if you don't, it's very unimportant

the smirk and eyebrow was completely wrong for the moment, yet Incredibly Hot

big style Janeway vibes as the turbolift elevator doors close

wow the jet is schmancy - wall sconces! it's wide enough to accommodate the new aspect ratio!

SUEDE JACKET EMILY

Tara you look so sad. Wish you had a hand to hold, your friends keep getting blowed up

Luke's ALIVE yessss

oh little baby unsub running through the forest....got bopped on the head....

now he's...locked in a cupboard under the stairs? harry potter?

MAC AND CHEESE MOTIF

god I want mac and cheese

I like this bad uncle guy. He's hilarious. Real good crazy eyes.

this really could have been a musical

honestly I think my dad served me that exact meal when I was a kid and my mom was away on business. Except mine also included canned potatoes (disGUSTing)

Emily hugging Luke and like...no shot of her acknowledging JJ? It annoyed me the first time and now it's HILARIOUS. Just...conspicuously avoiding JJ? I love her relief about Alvez (me too Emily!), and she already knew that JJ was up and moving and not dead. But...they had time for that hug and nothing else? FUNNY. CM flew too close to the Jemily Sun with "200" and the long walk back is still ongoing.

I guess if I wanted to watch this with my Jemily goggles... this could fit *very* well with the plot of "Late Bloomer", a lovely fic by angestreet in progress on AO3 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/43418964). ANYWAY - the not touching/having trouble being normal with JJ fits with an Emily who has been putting distance between herself and JJ for complicated emotional reasons she's just starting to understand. Or perhaps an Emily and JJ who have had some sort of personal conflict that we, the audience, were not privy to (see also: the "what ifs and if onlys" conversation in season 13). I mean, I still think it's a conspicuously odd choice on the TV screen, but there's room for some interesting storytelling there.

on the other hand - the flight down there from Quantico is at least 90 minutes. Plenty of time for the folks on the jet to get a phone update from JJ. I think we're led to believe they did NOT have that communication (i.e. the splosion interrupted cell service for a prolonged period), as otherwise why would Emily be palpably relieved about Luke's well-being once she gets eyes on him?

Ponytail Prentiss. Ma'am.

The brief and supportive embrace of JJ from Tara and Rossi? Beautiful. Chef's kiss. Lovely.

LOL this music. Teachin' the kid to lye. (haha im so funny)

So...are we to believe he is conflicted about his serial killer education?

No time for politics, Dougie boy!

ooh I wonder who the Attorney General is. Do you think we'll get to see her? Please be CCH Pounder.

Political pressure and machinations seem to be a theme this season. As I recall, prior CM painted its political villains more as bad individuals (Barnes, Strauss, seemingly Bailey at the start of this season). It does feel like CME is more deliberately placing the BAU in the context of a justice / law enforcement *system* that is corrupted or disturbed by political concerns (and otherwise wonderful and perfect and not at all corrupt in itself). Kind of interesting.

Poor Tyler.

Look! JJ talking directly to Emily! It happened! Not in the same frame, but. I just have to remind myself that these things actually happen.

Can you imagine Prentiss arm wrestling Bailey. She'd wipe the floor with that silly noodle. Her glare is too powerful, forget her arm.

So Bailey's *not* the reason they haven't been using the jet? It's the nebulous "politics"? Vague, but not a huge leap. We've already had Senator Aunt Zelda call back to the way Congress sometimes likes to hold the federal budget hostage to achieve certain ends.

ugh....friends....this should come as no surprise...... i'm so gone for her...... her visage pleases me no end..... (mind filled with spooky echoing whispers of sssmokeshhhow prentisssss)

Acting! Executive realness Emily. And she does trust Tara's ability to do the job, but is cognizant of those "politics" etc.

Tara knows she's staring at a shit sandwich coming her way. Tara, I love you. I'm sorry this is hard.

Tyler: "Some dude gave me my clothes back. Also he took my sick Crocs. I don't get it. Am I getting out of here?"

I like PG's dress.

MOAR HUGS!!!! love that. Whoopsy you hurt Luke's lil injured wrist bb.

JONATHAN DEL ARCO, my MAN. First watch through I did not recognize him but found him compelling. I love that guy. I loved seeing him reprise his role as Hugh in ST: Picard. I love his work here.

Emily is... compassionate in this interview. Doesn't feel adversarial. That look when he says he just wants to die.

Oy, poor JJ. She is stuck in this stupid situation with her business gnome husband where she gets to feel guilty AND almost got blowed up! And Will, please. "I promise to never miss your call ever again." Guys come on - be realistic here! This is So Dumb. I've never been able to hate Will despite the ways their relationship rubs me the wrong way. Because if nothing else, JJ does seem to mostly really like him. I don't get it, girl, but who am I to say? She looks really shaken in this scene. This gives me a bad feeling. I'm a little worried this storyline is going to end in her transferring out of the BAU or retiring or otherwise putting her family above her career in a more decisive way.

Tyler and Penelope... I don't hate it. Pen deserves some lovin' and she's a kind and compassionate soul. Luke adores her and he's better than Tyler in terms of current emotional stability I'd say. But the heart wants what the heart wants and sometimes the heart simply enjoys whatever is on offer. She must have her reasons.

I had to watch this Tara/Emily/Luke scene like 4 times because I couldn't hear the dialogue over everyone's insane BEAUTY. The HAIR. the..um...curves...the brown houndstooth over the navy shirt...Luke was there too...

side note: I hate the AirBnB/Target/IKEA generic-ass photography decorating the FBI offices. Federal offices are boring yes but usually in a more dorky way.

Oh! They are fighting in the Family Room.

Oh, Rebecca you little nightmare. Tara says Reeves is not Sicarius and that's all it takes for you to accuse her of dealing in conspiracy theories? That got my hackles up. FASCINATING. I can't look away.

Again...this plays into that same looming "Politics" business - the people around & in the way of our heroes are motivated by optics, by career ambition, by the *appearance* of justice served and the currency that provides. ...That exchange in episode 1602 or 1603, when Bailey suggests getting Domestic Terrorism involved to make people feel safe and Prentiss replies that that wouldn't make them safe.

This scene with Tara/Emily/Luke is lovely. They've got her back. She's a professional. Emily's reaction like "oof been there".

This interrogation. The tacit communication between Tara and Emily when Tara steps in (hot). The way Tara carefully talks her way to the point. The way Silvio's eyes cut over at "I met this woman" and then he looks away. The way the connection has been made - he does feel seen. He's smart too. And he's spent how many years committed to his path - death for the safety of the man he loved. I really enjoyed this scene.

Y'know Emily is consistently good about acknowledging Penelope's good work. I'm sure that's been true for the whole show, but noticeable here too - in 1603 when she tells PG her idea is really good, and here. Love it.

Oh now that I'm watching it carefully - PG has a whole MOMENT as she opens up about her own grief (unfortunate how many times the word "hole" appeared in this convo but wcyd). His lean in is NOT unwarranted, it's there in her eyes...

new catchphrase "it just makes the hole different"

I like Silvio's novio. I like that he found a way to live free of shame and fear. It does kind of beg the question why he didn't try harder to exonerate Silvio in the intervening years, but let's not dwell.

Rebecca's "I have never not been on your side" okay lady. you were pretty mad earlier and implied your girlfriend and her team were full of shit so... I guess you're a human being! lmao. I hate to see Tara back-footed like this but this is juicy.

oh hello hottie. Emily Prentiss, the way you sit in a chair.

Paget's delivery of "I'm not quite following" is hilarious. hashtag relatable.

So "family is what gets you killed". Family as weakness, as vulnerability. I don't doubt that over the next few episodes we'll get more rebuttal to that notion from our heroes, a la "we're a family and that's our strength."

These episodes really don't stand up on their own. They work better together. Can't wait for the next one.

#cm spoilers #criminal minds spoilers #cme spoilers #criminal minds evolution spoilers

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hyunjilicious · 3 years

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backyard bbq party [bucky barnes]

Summary: You're a college student who hates visiting home. Bucky is new to town and works with your dad. Your mom thinks you need a break from studying and your dad thinks Bucky needs help meeting new people. Smut ensures. 4.5k SMUT

Warnings: Age gap, flirting in inappropriate circumstances, dirty talk, oral - m. receiving, Bucky is cocky and sees right through you, D/s vibes (but not really), very little Daddy kink (one mention), unedited.

A/n: I don't think I have to mention this, but 18+ please!!! Please reblog and lmk if you liked it ❤

"Hun-" your mother warmly called as she approached you, a transparent plastic container filled with freshly seasoned raw pieces of meat, in her hands, "Take this to your father, ok?"

With unmistakable disgust on your face, you still faked a smile - all for her sake and took the container from her. It was heavy and you did your best to look anywhere but at it as you crossed the backyard, approaching your dad. He was with his back at you, facing the grill, and a man - which you barely noticed at first, stood by his side.

"Dad?" you sighed, "Mom said you should make these right now"

Their conversation stopped in an instant, and the two men turned to face you.

A smile instantly made its way onto your dad's face, "Didn't think you girls would be done so fast" he commented.

You just shrugged, knowing damn well you did not help prepare the food in any way. However, your eyes landed on the man behind your dad. He was tall, definitely well built, his shirt a size too small and his eyes shamelessly boring into yours.

You fell under his spell in under a second. Or maybe he fell under yours. Something definitely happened. A switch flipped inside your brain, and you knew you'd have to work hard to not allow yourself to do, or at least try to do, anything stupid at your parents party.

His eyes trailed lower down your body, and judging by the way he fought back a grin, it was clear what he had in mind.

In order to keep things from getting awkward, his lips parted into a dazzling smile, as he extended his hand to you, "You must be, Y/n. I'm James Barnes. You can call me Bucky. Or Buck"

"Oh, yeah!" you dad smiled, "You two haven't met! James is the best damn mechanical engineer I've ever seen"

"You work together?" you squinted your eyes, "I never heard of you before"

"He just moved to the state" you father added, and Bucky nodded in agreement, his hand still slowly shaking yours.

Feeling your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, you smiled and excused yourself, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes. I'll go now, see if mom needs any more help"

Bucky's eyes didn't leave your frame as you walked away, however you barely managed to take a couple of steps before you heard your mother's voice. "Y/n, baby? Can you go grab the glasses?"

"How many?"

"12" she responded in an instant, and then you took off towards the house.

It was dead silent inside. The house was empty, and already a mess. You took off your sandals and walked over to the cabinets above the sink, pulled out a tray and started looking for the fancy glasses your mother saved for special occasions.

You must've grabbed about 3 or 4 when a deep voice startled you, "Need any help?"

You lightly jumped in surprise, but hoped he didn't notice. "No, it's ok, thank you, though"

"Ok" Bucky mumbled, and you heard the smugness in his tone.

Unable to fight your instincts, you turned around and looked at him over your shoulder. Leaning against the wall with a small bottle of beer in his hand, he sent you a mischievous wink which almost brought a lump to your throat.

You hurried to turn around and keep gathering the glasses your mother asked for, struggling more and more with each one. When you cleared the first shelf, it was obvious you'd need help reaching the ones higher up, but you weren't about to ask Bucky. Instead, you hiked your dress up your thighs and pushed one of your knees on top of the counter, lifting yourself up just enough to reach the remaining glasses.

"Careful up there," Bucky laughed, walking over to you.

On a normal day, your palms wouldn’t be shaking and you wouldn't even think about the possibility of dropping a glass or falling off the counter. But he was too close, taking way too much satisfaction from seeing you struggling to maintain your balance. Not to mention the skirt, and the way almost all the skin of your thighs was on display for him.

"You could've asked me to help, you know?" he taunted, taking one more step towards you. There were barely a few inches separating your bodies now, and although you were sure it was your mind playing tricks on you, the heat from his body flooded your senses. He was too close. Too smug, looking at you. But the last straw was when he placed his left hand on the counter, inches away from your knee. That was when you noticed the prosthetic arm as the metallic sound of its vibranium plates overlapping grabbed your full attention. After a momentary lapse of composure, you looked into his eyes but all he did was raise his eyebrows. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Uh, it's ok" you shook your head, turning back to look at the cabinet. "Just five more"

For the remaining glasses, you grabbed them from the shelf, handing them to Bucky to place them on the tray.

When you were finally done, with a gentle grab of your hips, Bucky helped you off the counter, his hands lingering against the thin material of your dress for a bit too long. But you didn't mind. His touch burned and under his gaze, you found yourself turning around to face him, the proximity being nothing other than obscene especially if you were to take into consideration the age gap, and how you met him.

But that was 20 minutes ago. A moment not so conveniently interrupted by your mother barging in, wondering what was taking you so long. Bucky helped you carry the glasses to the table outside, and after that, you parted ways.

Even though he went back to the rest of the men gathered around the grill, your mind remained fixed on him. You found it almost impossible not to look for him every other minute, and the fact that he managed to catch you staring everytime, made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.

And then it took a little bit of devious and manipulative work on your part - to convince your aunt she got the wrong seat. You told her there was a seating plan, and that she was supposed to sit next to your mum. That opened up a seat left of Bucky, and since that seating plan was as unreal as your chances with him, or so you thought, you had to make sure the seat wouldn't be taken by someone else. And you didn't want to make it obvious - didn't want him to know you only chose that spot after figuring out it was right next to his. So you sprinted back into the house, grabbed your purse and placed it on the chair, pushing it as close as you could to the table, so no one could see it. Maybe it's been there for hours, even before any of the guests even showed up. Who'd know?

But of course, once the food had been served and you were all seated, you had to play your cards right. All your confidence seemed to have vanished ever since Bucky took his seat next to you. Casually sipping his beer, having a taste out every single type of food laid out in front of him, cracking jokes every now and then, and the glimpses… And the winks... And the way whenever he had to turn in your direction, his eyes would first land on you, and only then travel to the person he was having a conversation with.

But that was just the start. Soon enough, his attention was more and more directed towards you. His arm on the back of your chair. His jokes solely for you.

When you figured it was your time to make the next move, after giggling at one of the stupid puns he just made, you cleared your throat and scanned the table. "James, where did you get the olives? Can you hand me the bowl please? I can't see it"

"Oh, yeah" he said, pushing himself up to grab them for you. But conveniently, the bowl was empty. "There aren't any left, doll." he announced after settling back in his seat.

"That's ok" you smiled, ready to stand up, "I'll go see if there are any inside"

The "No" he whispered was way too low for you to hear, but his metal hand grabbing your thigh and pinning you down in your chair got the message across. You turned to look at him confused, but your plan was already going in a completely different and indisputably better direction.

"Here-" Bucky said, using his fork to pick up one of the olives on his plate. "I'm full anyway"

"Thanks" you nervously laughed, raising your hand to grab the utensil, but he stopped you.

"Open up"

Only for a second did you stop to consider just how bad of an idea that was, but you hurriedly pushed the thought aside and opened your mouth. Your eyes met his as you lowered yourself and grabbed the olive with your teeth, barely managing to hide your enthusiasm as you slipped it off his fork.

"Good?" Bucky asked.

You nodded, "Very. Thank you"

"No problem, doll"

After that, you returned to your plate - some cheese and salad left. None of them looked too appetising right now, you knew what you wanted - two things, but only one of them would be acceptable. So, you lazily gathered some salad leaves into your fork, and turned to Bucky. "Can I have one more?"

"Hm?" he muttered, removing the beer bottle from his lips and looking at you confused.

"One more olive? Can I?"

Instantly, he smiled. "What was that?"

"Can I have one more-" and when his amused smile turned into a devious grin, you realised what he actually wanted from you. "Please?"

He still wasn't satisfied so he just raised his eyebrows, telling you to try again.

"James? Can I please have one more olive?"

"Of course" he taunted.

You didn't know what you expected, of course you'd have to eat this one out of his fork too. However, this time, he didn't bother helping you at all, instead making you lean all the way into him to grab it.

"Thanks"

"And call me Bucky, ok?"

"Yeah, ok. Bucky"

As much as you wanted to keep this game going, the atmosphere around the table shifted. Even though your parents were seated at the other end of the table and on the same side, making it impossible for them to see what you were up to, you still felt like you crossed one too many lines.

When your demeanour changed, so did Bucky's. He leaned back in his seat, shifting uncomfortably for a couple of minutes, until he decided to stand up, announcing he was grabbing another drink for himself. You wanted to ask him to bring one for you too, but before you even managed to get a word out, he was already sprinting towards the house.

In his absence, you tried to calm yourself down and regain your composure, but there was only one thing on your mind. Him. So, against your better judgement, you left your seat at the table too, innocently heading towards the house.

There you found Bucky, leaning almost all the way in into the fridge, scavenging for another beer. The man emptied your dad's stash before the second course was even served.

"Whatcha looking for?" you beamed, walking up beside him.

"There's no more beer left" he announced, straightening his back and turning to face you. "I guess I'll have some water"

"I can go and see if there's any in the basement" you offered, "Or you could always go for something stronger"

"What do you suggest?"

"What are you into?"

"What am I into?" Bucky laughed.

"Whiskey?" you questioned, walking around him to open the liquor cabinet. "I hate this rum so I don't recommend it." You grabbed another bottle, "This vodka is amazing, no headaches the morning after."

"That won't be a problem" Bucky chuckled, leaning against the counter. "I'll have whatever you wanna give me"

"You seem like a whiskey kinda guy, is that ok?"

He nodded in approval, and then watched you pad around the kitchen, grabbing a glass and some ice. "What makes me look like a whiskey kind of guy?"

You took a deep breath, weighing your next words. "Rugged, tall.. handsome. Not my age." You shrugged. "Whiskey". Before allowing him to comment on that, you spoke up again. "What kind of drink do I remind you of?"

He pondered for a second, his eyes studying your every move. "One of those overly sweet girly cocktails, that has way more alcohol than my whiskey, but it's masked by all the syrups and preservatives inside it"

"Really?" you laughed out loud, handing him his glass.

Bucky smiled as he took it from you, raising it as if making a toast, and then took a sip. He licked his lips and sent you an approving nod.

Slowly, you both turned around and started walking out of the kitchen, but unlike you - Bucky stopped in the middle of the house, his voice urging you to do the same. "I'll go out front for a cigarette"

"Can I come, too?" you asked, heart beating out of your chest.

"Please" He urged you, stepping aside and allowing you to walk in front of him.

With a hand on your waist, he followed you out the front door. It was quiet, the sun shining a bit too bright for your liking.

You skipped down the stairs onto the pavement, but he stopped and sat down. Bucky spread his legs wide and motioned for you to come in front of him. After you did, with a gentle tug on your hand, he got you to kneel, one step below him.

"Want a cigarette, doll?" he asked, leaning back to retrieve the pack and lighter from his jeans pocket.

"No, thanks"

"Don't smoke?"

"Not if there isn't at least a mile between me and my parents" you giggled, placing your hands on his knees.

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow, lighting up his cigarette and taking a puff. You watched the smoke dissipate to the side, only to have your attention grabbed by him when he placed his free hand on your shoulder. "You're an adult. Have been for years. You live on your own. Why not?"

As he spoke, his fingers curled around the strap of your dress, nonchalantly pulling it down.

You swallowed thickly, but due to the way he was making you feel, you decided to ignore his action. "What they don't know, can't hurt them, right?"

"Mhm" Bucky agreed, taking another puff and then moving to play with the other strap. "So I was right?"

"About what?"

He shook his head, "Nevermind"

"Tell me!" you whined, pushing yourself up against him. His thighs completely framed your body as you closed the distance between the two of you. "Tell me!"

"Nope" he grinned, his proud smile inches away from your hungry lips.

"Bucky, come on" you pleaded, framing his face into your palms, "Tell me, please"

"No, doll-" he dismissed you, turning his head to the side to smoke. After blowing up the smoke, he threw the cigarette into the ashtray, his hands coming up around your body to rest on your ass.

"Pretty please?" you whined.

"Don't push me" he threatened, his grip on your ass tightening to the point where you almost whimpered out loud. Instead, your eyes just opened wide and you bit your lips.

"Ok" you sighed, playfully defeated, "Ok, fine. Don't tell me. But now I'm sad"

"Of course you are, doll" Bucky laughed, grabbing your chin. "I can tell how sad you are. You're not almost bursting into laughter at all"

"Shut up!" you scoffed, slapping his side, but he interrupted your antics with another rough squeeze of your ass.

Unable to keep calm anymore, you dragged your hands up his thighs, stopping inches away from his member. When you looked up to see his reaction, Bucky was already watching you.

"Can I?" you pouted.

"Stand up"

"Why-"

"Stand up" he commanded again, slapping your ass before you stood up and settled in front of him. "Take your panties off, doll"

"Here!?" you gasped, "What if anyone-"

"No one's gonna see you if you keep quiet and shuffle out of them like a good girl"

With your heart panging in the back of your throat, you slowly reached under your dress and pulled your underwear down. The feeling of cotton slipping down your legs made your shiver, and by the time your panties fell to the ground, Bucky had already stood up.

Wordlessly, you grabbed them from the floor and handed them to him, "Good girl" he nodded and then stepped out of the way, motioning for you to head inside.

You did so without any further form of complaint, determined to have your way with him by the end of the party. Dessert hadn't been served yet, so you knew there was still time to get to him.

But once you stepped into the house, you barely managed to make it past the hallway before Bucky grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side. He forcefully pushed you into the small bathroom by the guest room, slamming the door behind him and locking it in one smooth movement.

Now it all made sense. Nerves and anxiety washed over you, but the good kind. You were bursting with emotion, shivering from every joint as your juices finally started running down your legs. You licked your lips and waited for instructions from him, ready to do absolutely anything he'd tell you to.

"Why don't you show me what you're made out of, hm? I wanna see how fast you can make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours"

And that was all you needed to hear before you dropped to your knees in front of him, drooling like a good little girl as you watched him undo his pants. Your eagerness got the best of you. He looked divine, especially from that angle. His thick thigh inches away from your face, his metal hand playing with his belt, his hungry eyes staring down at you, his rugged breathing and the perverse view of his cock straining against his clothes.

Thank god he was fast, because you didn't know how to control yourself anymore.

When he finally pushed his underwear down and leaned against the wall, you were ready to show him what you were capable of. You wrapped your arms around him, settling your palms on the back of his thighs and sloppily took his cock into your mouth.

"Holy shit-" he cried out loud when you first sucked on his tip, bucking his hips and clenching his thighs.

Eagerly working him from between hollowed cheeks and with your tongue pressed to the underside of his hardening member, you proceeded to look up, innocently blinking at him. The corner of Bucky's mouth tilted upwards, perfectly expressing the immense amount of satisfaction he was getting.

When the strain on your neck became noticeable, you slipped his cock out of your mouth and wrapped your hand around his base. With delicate and experienced flicks of your tongue against his slit, you worked on shattering his self control, getting more and more wet as his breathing started to accelerate.

"Fuck, Y/n, you little slut-" he gasped, bringing his hand to rest on the top of your head.

You knew what he wanted, but it wasn't his turn to make decisions. Instead, you ignored his gesture and lowered yourself further between his legs, wrapping your lips around his balls. You sucked slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure that you hoped would drive him up the walls.

"Doll, so good. So, so fucking good" he panted, his cock nearly twitching in your hand as you kept pumping along the length.

Pulling back when your neck needed a break, you settled in front of him again, this time mouth open, and placed his tip on your tongue. No physical pleasure from that, but no amount of shadow could hide the pure bliss in his features. Just having you there, on your knees, with his cock on your tongue, was exactly what he needed to see.

"Come on, baby. It's not gonna suck itself" Bucky grunted, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You nodded eagerly, but he stopped you before taking him back into your mouth. "All the way down, ok? Take my cock all the way down your throat, and when you feel like you can't anymore, go a little further"

You nodded again.

"And don't worry, I'm here to help you, doll"

You wanted to mumble a 'Thank you' but didn't get to, since he hurriedly curled his fingers around your roots and forced your head down his cock.

The feeling of your throat expanding around him reached your core in no time, making you shiver under his hold. You crumbled to the floor, your knees weak from the sheer feeling of it all, blinking wearily as he kept you down.

A mere few seconds had passed before, out of nowhere, Bucky pushed you off of him and looked to the door, eyes wide with shock.

"What happened?" you mumbled, wiping your chin.

"Thought I heard something"

"You locked the door" you reminded him, "No one's gonna catch us. And that's a bit of a shame, if you ask me"

"Huh?" Bucky frowned.

"I wouldn't mind people seeing me with your balls in my mouth"

His mouth fell open. "You dirty, little whore"

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you licked his tip and looked up, "Don't act like you don't like that about me"

"I absolutely fucking love it" Bucky scoffed, "Don't know what could have possible made you think I don't like it"

"I was just saying"

"Just.. stop talking. Put that mouth to better use for me, ok?"

"Yes, Daddy" you teased and wrapped your lips around his tip again.

"You little-" Bucky started cursing as he shook his head in disbelief, before a rapid knock against the wooden door made your heart stop.

"Buck?" your father's voice echoed around the bathroom, "You in there?"

Without even thinking twice, Bucky forced you back all the way down on his cock, completely blocking your air supply.

"Yeah! I'm in here!" he yelled as you struggled to keep quiet and muffle the way your body desperately begged for air.

"Have you seen Y/n?"

"Nope"

The panic that was running through your veins had your oxygen burning faster than normal, the tears in your eyes being the first sign of it.

"I can't find her anywhere" you dad went on.

No matter how much you tried and how much training you had, in that moment right there, you found it impossible to fight your gag reflex. Before you knew it, a choked down whimper erupted from your throat, forcing Bucky to cough, loudly, hoping to cover you.

"I haven't seen her, man. But, urgh-" The way your throat convulsed around his cock made Bucky weak too, way too close to his release to be able to sound inconspicuous. "Can I- can I have some pr- privacy now? Please? Just - just a sec"

"Are you feeling ok? Do you need-"

"I'm fine!" Bucky yelled. "I'll be out in a sec"

It was not like you were able to hear anything or even concentrate, but as soon as it was clear, Bucky let you off his cock, as he fell back against the wall and you stumbled into the sink.

Gasping for air, you heaved under his stare, eyes wide in shock. "You know I could've kept perfectly quiet without your cock blocking my throat"

"Where's the fun in that?" he panted, getting ready to finish on his own.

"No!" you stopped him, crawling back to him, "Let me!!"

"Just open your mouth" he grunted, and you obeyed.

It took him approximately 30 seconds to reach his orgasm, his hot cum landing perfectly on your awaiting tongue. His moaning and his breathing, and the way his face contorted through endless expressions of pure bliss, had you neatly coming yourself.

When he was done and after you proudly swallowed all that he had to offer, you stood up to fix your lipstick while Bucky cleaned and dressed himself back up.

"Your best friend called. She's having an emergency, you need to get there as soon as possible"

"What-?" you gasped, confused for just a second before you realised there was no way that could have been true.

"Yeah, and I'm not feeling well, so I'll head home. I can drop you off if you want"

And that was what you told your parents. That they couldn't find you earlier because you were talking on the phone with your best friend, reassuring her that everything would be fine and that you'd meet her as soon as possible.

Your parents weren't happy about it, but they didn't shy away from thanking Bucky a million times for offering to drive you. After a sappy round of goodbyes and promises to visit more often from now on, your parents finally returned to the party while Bucky led you to his car.

Once you got in, you didn't even manage to put your seat belt on before Bucky grabbed your chin and forced his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. He dominated the kiss as you melted in his hold, moaning against his lips before he pulled away.

"Been waiting to do that since I first laid eyes on you"

"What stopped you?"

"Had a feeling it wasn't a good idea" he laughed, starting the engine, "Saw what you did to my dick. It was all pink. Don't know how I would've explained lipstick all over my face to your parents"

"Well, excuse me for not wearing blow job proof lipstick to my parents barbecue"

"You're forgiven" Bucky teased, squeezing your thigh as he pulled out of the driveway.

"But why are we leaving though?" you questioned, "You know I have my own room upstairs, right?"

"I know, I know.. but next time we're nearly getting caught, I don't want it to be by anyone who's seen you in diapers"

You burst into laughter, "Oh god, you're right, yeah, that makes a lot of sense! But where are we going?"

"You'll see"

Please reblog if you enjoyed this and hmu with concepts!!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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qingxintea · 3 years

Text

heartbreak avenue (3) || albedo x reader

heartbreak avenue (1) heartbreak avenue (2) -- tell me how, do you do this thing called living? when theres nothing more to gain. gn reader -- ignore the link below idk how tf to hyperlink on mobile but that’s ur part 4 ig

damn. imagine missing mond so much that you visit just for the vibes and accidentally become a one time vigilante for dominating over a couple abyss mages

how oddly specific!

you moment.

TO BE FAIR, you didn't mean to and also ur just strong with that 245% crit damage ugh yeah yeah get it ig

it was night time, like, idk 1am and you were in this cloak because idk look swaggy and comfortable

abyss mage went ŏ̸̡̡̹̘͉̫̬̬̭̘̙̝͐͒̆̈́̒̿̄́͠͝ǒ̸̧̺͕̣̬̝̱͈̭̭̻̮̈̏̔͆̑̀̍ǫ̵̡̜̲̭̠̤̰̹͍̣͎̤̈́̓̍͠ḩ̴̡͍̣̹̯̭̩̮̣̩̭́̔̀̍͊̂͒́̆͘͜͝͝ȃ̷̧̡̢̡̨̛̪͓̤̜͕̳̦̼͊̏̃͆̓̈́̈́̽̈́͌͐̋̚ͅh̸̡̩͍̟͕̥͚̰̰̟̮̖̪̉̈́͛͂̍̾a̸̧̢͕̙̞̳̩͈̲͉͕̒̆̎̐̎̍̀͊͘̚͝h̸̡̼͓̝͕̫̤̰̱̬̣̗͚̙̀͜ and you were like "lmao shut up"

and like it did! because you made it shut up and also mans diluc was watching in his dark knight hero thingy

of course you noticed his presence from the beginning, you just wanted to piss him off and act like he wasn't there at all

you walked. straight past him like he was actually on the bridge in the middle and you just w al ked .

i mean ofc he gonna say something. and he did. dude said "who r u"

stared at him directly in the eye and said "the embryo made of chewed bubblegum."

he stared. sh o ck ed . what were you even saying

"jk im a resident of mondstadt, visiting from my liyue trip."

"and how do i know you arent lying?"

you sighed and grabbed your dendro vision, letting him look at the frame. "its incased in a mondstadt styled frame." after a few seconds, you put it back. "if that is all, i'll be going."

"k"

"literally fuck off" you responded and walked inside.

sometimes you forget how rude mondstadt people are lmao loser.

ok so like this donna girl really went up to you like "JFKLSJFLKSDJFL NUMBER ??? HELLO ?? UMM THE WAY YOU SAVED MONDSTADT RLKDFFC" and you resisted every urge to flip her off on the spot.

you just stayed and let her talk, smiling through all of it. your hood was still on but it was quite windy s ooo

its been ten minutes. girl please let us go. you were literally begging for anyone to cut in because ur too nice (or unbothered) to tell her to shut up even though you totally went off on diluc aadahahhshdf

and someone did! not the one you expected though.

"good evening donna, and... oh? who would you be?"

ALBEDO LMAO GET STICKBUGGED? ? ? ?? AH a hjfkahfjah . im so funny .

guys i meant that ironically please

anyway

you got even more uncomfortable lmao and you just looked at him and smiled. what do you respond? "no one of importance."

he heard your voice, saw your eyes and it registered. it was you...

or was that what he wanted to believe?

cause this whole time hes been waiting for you, only using experiments as a thing to pass time. it got... a little more lonelier, because nothing could replace you.

he decided to not believe it. because 1) you knew well they welcomed you with open arms, so there would be no need to hide yourself

(which is also proof of how much the whole situation fucked up your thinking)

a second of silence before he continues on the conversation with normal evening meeting stuff things idk

then ur like "ahhshaaajk i must be taking my leave now for matters i will not disclose ahaha skidoosh"

skidoosh

so you go to the big venti statue next to the cathedral and just stand. stare. yikes

no ones out right now and theres nothing to do. but you remember this place because its where the both of yall would eat together whenever he had free time (which wasnt that often, but he still made the effort)

you look up to the sky, counting all the stars like you used to.

no ones gonna know that you're here, you decided on that. you only visited because you simply missed it, but after this, you were going back to liyue.

no ones gonna know. because no one needs to know. no one needs to know that you were here. that would only cause more trouble to the situation you tried to avoid

albedo ends up catching up to you later, still having some spark of hope left that it really was you

i mean lowkey there isnt really anything saying it wasnt. he wanted to believe that he was just overthinking when he thought it really wasnt you

like you look the same. sound the same. its just the reasoning of you coming here, but he can push that aside

"(y/n)."

you flinch but didnt react with anything else. he doesnt need to know that its you.

"(y/n)?"

you turn around to meet his eyes as he was approaching you. slightly distancing yourself another inch away as you were not used to the proximity, you responded, "i'm afraid i'm not the one you're looking for."

albedo stops for a moment, and was about to apologize,, but then

yknow that wind i mentioned earlier? like right after donna started bothering you

yeah that same wind blew ur hood off! lmao L

okay time to get serious !

you stay composed and sighed, your breath visible in the cold air.

so your features are exposed, and its so obviously you, like theres literally no way it cannot be you

"it really is you..." he doesnt understand why youre not admitting to it. "(y/n), please.."

you shake your head and walk away but mans grabs your wrist gently

"(y/n), whats wr-" he starts, but youre quick to respond

"im not (y/n)." you flat out said it and looked right into his eyes. and you swear there were small tears even if he was deemed nonchalant.

he doesnt understand, its your physical features, and your same energy, there is no other person that completely matches it.

he pulls you closer to examine this black smudge on your hand, a small yelp of surprise coming from you.

"this is... ink," he studied the properties of the substance. "you responded to my letter a day ago. (y/n)... i know by now. there's no reason to hide it."

you step away, freeing your hand from his grasp. your voice broke, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "i'm not... i'm not (y/n). i never will be. i'll never be so vulnerable again, i'll never be so naive again, i'll never be so lonely again, i will never ever be anything like they were again."

your vision blurred, but you werent oblivious to the tears streaming down his face as well. reaching to brush them away, you paused and let it drop to his shoulder instead.

"albedo. i... the (y/n) you knew... they're gone now. and if i could revert back to them any time, i would, i swear, but... i'm al-... they..." you buried your head in your hands. "i'm broken. to the point that i refuse to identify as the (y/n) you know me by."

doesnt know what to say, so he almost pulls you into a hug before you move out of the way. something you never did.

"don't... please. it never works out in the end." you shake your head, facing the other way. "for me at least."

"..we could work together, no?" he tried, still oblivious about your feelings towards him.

"only if you're willing to cross your moral boundaries," you looked back and tilted your head. taking a deep breath, you continued, "but you know that neither of us are willing to do that."

he couldn't say anything, because as much as he hated to admit something for once, you were right about that. at this point, he would've thought that literally any extent would've been fine to reach to bring you back.

yet in multiple situations where he's doubted himself before, theres always a line he will never cross.

"...i wish you the best. treat her well because i worked hard." you walked away without him stopping you this time. i worked hard. not we worked hard.

even if you had honestly felt that way, there was no chance the old you wouldve actually voiced that.

and so he watched you slip from his grasp again, only this time, he stopped himself from holding you back from his own will.

yet he swears- the next time he meets you again, he will bring you back.

#albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo #genshin albedo #genshin angst #albedo angst #sucrose #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons

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anime-grimmy-art · 3 years

Photo

Told you guys I’d ramble in due time.

I absolutely adore Bravely Default 2. It came at a really bad time cos I can’t waste 70 hours on a jrpg, but well, it’s too late to be concerned about that now. And as is tradition with me obsessing over a new game / show / whatever, you’ll basically find a fullblown review disguised as ramblings right under the cut. Be aware that I’m gonna talk about EVERYTHING, so spoilers are a given. Some maybe even for the previous Bravely Default games.

Also, if you wanna talk about this game in any capacity, hit me up, I’m DESPERATE to talk more about it.

Just for reference on how long this is gonna be, I made a voice recording while driving to remember all the points I wanna make, and that recording is almost 2 hours long. I did cut it down but still, this is gonna be a lot.

I’ll start off with the things that actually bugged me about the game, since there are only 3 things that really bothered me. First of, I really don’t like that you can name Seth. He has too much personality to be a self insert and player integration is not that big of a part in the game that this decision can be justified. It wouldn’t bother me that much if it didn’t leave a bad mark on the ending. First of all, we were robbed of Gloria desperately shouting for Seth, which makes the impact work less, and it’s just so prevalent that the name can’t be said because you have all the normal sound design going. If they’d just let the credits still play I wouldn’t have batted an eye, but because every other sound comes in it’s so obvious they’re just silently shouting in this scene, which makes it look silly. Like I said, this decision is more a detriment than an addition, and it’s a shame it casts a shadow on an otherwise heartfelt ending.

Speaking about lost potential, the other thing that really bothers me is the lost potential in certain plot points and character conclusions. I mainly mean Adam and Edna here. Both of them have been built up to be these formidable foes but they just, die. If it was just Adam I’d be fine with it, since you expect Edna to backstab him and be the actual big bad of the story, but I cannot fathom why they dropped Edna this HARD. If not Edna herself, I don’t understand why we don’t get more of a reaction from the Fairies and especially Adelle. I mean, Edna was her sole reason she left for her journey in the first place, then Edna dies and that’s it? No part where she grieves for a second? No concern from the others about Adelle? Mind you, I haven’t finished all the Sidequests, so maybe there actually is one in which this is addressed, but I think even just a Party Chat after Bad End 1 would have been sufficient to show how Adelle suddenly feels about the loss of Edna. It would have made Bad End 2 / The Secret Ending even more impactful, because, yeah, of course, you kinda know Adelle isn’t going to turn her back on fairy kind, but one of the reasons she doesn’t leave is because if Enda didn’t get a happy ending, then she shouldn’t either. It would have been amazing foreshadowing if she showed this sentiment before this scene happened. Other than that, it’s a shame that we know so little about Edna, or rather, how she became “bad”. I get she’s supposed to be corrupted by the Night’s Nexus, but how did it even come to this? It can’t have been a gradual thing, after all, Adelle says Edna was always good natured and then just disappeared one day. Really would have loved seeing more of that plot point.

Ok, last gripe I have, some choices in the soundtrack and sound design. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love the OST, and I will get to that, but damn, whatever Revo used for the lead instrument in Wiswald hurts my ears. It’s a really good track, but I always have to turn down my volume because these high pitched sounds physically hurt. And for sound design. Dude, the Night’s Nexus is the least threatening, nightmare fueled abomination that ever existed. I get that its growl is kinda supposed to be layered with Edna’s or sth, but it, it just sounds silly. If they went the route of just swinging between different voices or began distorting it from phase to phase, it would have been fine. But the choice they made really made an otherwise creepy design just absolutely silly.

Ok, enough jammering, on to the good stuff. Like I said, there’s going to be a lot, so I’ll try to be brief in each aspect.

Gameplay

I honestly like the new battle mechanics more than the old ones. This individual, turn based system feels way more dynamic and it’s easier to strategies in battles. Because nothing made me more angry than setting up for a heal and the enemy suddenly being faster than me and killing my healer. Now it’s easier to plan ahead a bit.

I also found myself experimenting more with the jobs. Not sure what it really is, but none of the party members leaning more towards certain types of jobs and the job leveling being way faster probably helped.

And I know some people get up in arms because the boss sometimes can be a real pain in the ass (looking at you pope dude), I still found it very interesting getting around counters or even using these counters as a benefit. As an example, I made Adelle my main physical fighter and gave her lots of counter abilities to help her profit from being countered by enemies themselves. Now, she can attack enemies, get countered, automatically evade that counter and earn a BP at the same time. Made a lot of boss fights way easier and fun to exploit.

Music

Ok, I will try my best to be really, really brief, because in my recording this part takes up almost 40 minutes. Anyways, Revo might have just become one of my absolute favorite composers ever. I don’t know what kind of magic he used, but I initially wasn’t that impressed with the OST, but every time I listened to it, I just fell in love harder and harder. Before getting into specifics, I wanna highlight the two things that made me love this OST overall. First of all, this soundtrack almost seems like a refinement of BD’s. While losing some of that fairytale vibe, it sounds even more fantasy now. And in contrast to the original, this almost sounds more balanced? Like, BD’s OST felt high energy throughout, BD2’s on the other hand manages to find a good balance between high and low energy pieces. Like, the character themes or battle themes are absolute hype, but the overworld themes are a lot calmer and easier to listen to while exploring. Second big point that makes this soundtrack amazing is that Revo is an absolute god at using emotional progression/storytelling and leitmotifs in his songs. And heck, do I love myself my leitmotifs. You’ve got some obvious ones, like the final battle theme in which all the character themes and other leitmotifs are integrated. Then you got some maybe more subtle once, just like how the overworld themes are just the main theme, just a lot calmer and using the lead instruments of the towns of the areas.

But my absolute favourites gotta be the character themes and the main theme. I love how fitting the themes for the characters are and in general, each of them is such a bop. At first I prefered Elvis’, because I sure am a sucker for jazzy vibes, but over time Adelle’s became my fav. It’s just something about the trumpets, and how the theme almost sounds a bit melancholic and bittersweet, that drew me in. And considering her story, mostly her bad end, that the bittersweet tone really fits.

Then there’s the main theme. Just like BD’s it shouts “triumphant anthem” and it definitely gives you a very familiar vibe, but I’d argue it has even better emotional progression. Heck, the first time I heard the music start up in the reveal trailer, I didn’t have to look at the screen to know this is gonna be a BD game. Also, the credit song version had me weeping at the true end. I’m someone who’s very easily affected by music (if me shouting about soundtracks on this blog wasn’t proof enough) and just hearing that ending song, getting the after credits scene, just for the second credits to start as a freaking duet. Dude, at that point I just started sobbing, I’m not gonna lie. Just this little part showed how much Revo knows how to put emotion in a song and also write it in such a way that he can elicit strong, emotional reactions from you too.

Story

People have been complaining how the story is too boring and kinda disappointing in comparison to the last one, but I just think the games tried to accomplish different things here. Since the BD series is a celebration of old, classic jrpgs, “cliche” storytelling is a given. Though, BD did throw a lot of meta stuff in there too. BD2 in contrast just feels like a direct execution of that initial idea. It feels familiar, it feels comfy and it feels safe. Except for the little things with the endings and then overwriting the Nexus’ “save file”, BD2 doesn’t really get that meta, which is totally fine. It doesn’t try to reinvent or innovate anything, it just wants to be a fantasy story, that might be cliche, but still fun and enjoyable in its own right.

I’d also argue that the pacing is a lot better than the old game, because with BD I sometimes found myself skipping through scenes to get on with the story. Not that this game didn’t have me rushing through stuff as well, but I found it kept my intrigue way better than the original.

Characters

Next to the music, this is the part that I absolutely love the most. While, yes, they did lose a lot of potential with some characters, mostly with the villains, the main cast is just so much fun. I love these 4 dorks so, so much.

I honestly can’t stand how much people compare them to the original cast. Yes, ofc, I’ve been doing my fair share of comparisons too, but calling these four a more boring version of BD’s party physically hurts me. Because except for some initial impressions, the Heroes of Light are completely different from our beloved Warriors of Light.

While yes, Seth and Gloria give off strong Tiz and Agnes vibes at first, they both grow into such different characters that they’re not really comparable. I think this shows with Adelle and Elvis even more. I do understand how people could compare Adelle and Edea, since they’re both the feisty girl type, but I can’t understand how people can see Ringabel and Elvis as the same character type. While those two are the “suave” party members, they act so differently from another. And that’s honestly apparent the first time you meet them.

Anyways, I love these 4 so much.

We technically don’t know a lot about Seth at all, but they manage to pull so much out of just the fact that he’s a sailor, that it makes him really endearing, really fast.

I was kinda disinterested with Gloria at first, because again, the initial impression was Agnés2.0, but she grew on me a lot. Gloria is way more hard headed and honestly sassy in comparison to Agnés and I absolutely adore it.

Elvis. Elvis, my man. I love this fantasy scottosh wizard so, so much. He’s such a ridiculous character but so endearing at the same time. You got all this dorkiness, with him setting himself on fire as a student, him doing god knows what for a good drink or just laughing danger and prejudice in the face. But then you got his super empathetic and caring side. Mind you, most of his wise moments come from quoting Lady Emma, but still, as much as he’s hopeless with certain social situations, he’s actually still really good at reading the room and playing things smart. He’s a smart and powerful idiot, which makes him a danger to everyone and himself, and I love him for it. (I also can’t believe they called him Lesley I MEAN COME ON)

And then there’s Adelle. I liked her from the start, but I didn’t think she would stick out to me. I think now she’s my favourite character. Not even talking about all the stuff that happens in chapter 3 and onward, because these story threads are awesome in their own right, but there’s just something about her personality that’s interesting and appealing to me. Like I said, I’m not surprised people compare her to Edea, I did too at first, but while Edea walks very close to the line of a Tsundere, I was really surprised that Adelle is, well, not a Tsundere at all. Yeah, of course she’s putting Elvis down a lot, but that stems more from her preventing his ego from going to his head than her being all embarrassed. No, Adelle is actually really well adjusted when it comes to communication. While it’s hilarious that she and Elvis met with her chucking her shoes at him, the two just got along well right from the start. Adelle in general has this really open and helpful personality, but also doesn’t shy away from putting her foot down, even if that sometimes comes out as an embarrassed sputter. She’s also the mother hen of the group. She looks out for the other three and gets concerned about them real fast.

I dunno, Adelle just really grew on me over the course of this game, and then her kinda being paired with Elvis too, as partners and as partners, makes me like her even more. Because as much as I like their personalities individually, I like their character dynamic even more. I honestly love the relationships between all four of them a lot. You really feel them grow closer as friends and all the little character sidequests just always made me really happy.

Conclusion

You might not believe me, but I really held back there. This could probably have been 3 times its length. As much as I love this game, it’s of course not perfect. It struggles and flails in some parts a lot and it certainly has some aspects that might turn people off. But for me, it was just a very familiar and comfy game that didn’t necessarily deliver anything new, but that told its story in such a way that it still got me excited to keep going. The soundtrack is absolutely amazing and the conclusion of the story actually got me to cry. While not groundbreaking, this game is highly enjoyable and leaves you absolutely satisfied at the end.

Also, I would like to iterate that I am desperate to get more content about this game, so if you wanna chat about it, hit me up.

Anyways, anyone else felt like having a fever dream when everybody in chapter 2 started talking fantasy scottish? Cos I sure did.

#bravely default #bravely default 2 #bd #bd2 #fanart #review #ramblings #seth #gloria #adelle #elvis #elvis lesley

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thetriggeredhappy · 3 years

Note

recently rediscovered your blog and read the fic from your dad spy au where scout starts out as the "guard" and then becomes scout from there and lemme tell you that shit put me on some s-tier brainrot. like a cranial decay type beat.

i had a concept in my head that instead of being hired as a guard, he could have been hired as a right hand man to the administrator like pauling, because i think hed be awesome in that position. like imagine having a personal merc who can get in fast and out even faster. but maybe he would stay in the base like the rest of them, sort of like a secret on call intel gatherer, who also maybe sometimes has to dig a couple graves. and also like, nobody on the team expects anything from him at first because its this 20 year old newbie kid. hes dressed in his formal clothes and he talks like somebody from relatively around boston but not quite. i can just imagine one day he comes back during a team dinner with his shirt half untucked and stained with blood, hair disheveled as he asks soldier if he can borrow his shovel, or him debriefing them for a mission when miss pauling is busy. same vibe as the fic i mentioned before but scout gets to have a job as cool as miss paulings. honestly id write it myself if i didnt have the attention span of a fly

anyways your scout content gives me life thank you

scout teamfortress but 20% more competent standing next to miss pauling teamfortress while she's doing her job and doing like silly quips and otherwise contributing nothing like it's a buddy cop film is literally my fucking ideal

(warnings for some canon-typical violence)

“Oh, Pauling, it’s good to see you again,” greeted the chairman, smiling in an imitation of a grandfather and clasping her hands perhaps too-kindly considering she barely knew him. “Young as ever, and still so stylish, I see. And who’s the new fellow?”

“He’s just here to help with transport, Mr. Montgomery, nothing unusual,” Miss Pauling replied, returning his smile and adjusting her glasses. “Heavy cases, you know how it is.”

“Of course, I remember you almost toppling clean over last time we made a trade!” Montgomery agreed, frowning at the memory. “You’ll pull a muscle that way, better to be careful. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. And your name?”

“Mr. Normandy, sir,” the new kid replied easily enough despite his slight East Coast accent, giving the man a firm handshake, expression neutral and stony, the picture of professionalism. Internally, Pauling breathed a sigh of relief.

“Firm grip there, young man,” Montgomery praised, nodding approvingly. “Tennis player, perhaps? Or golf?”

“Baseball, sir,” he replied, still evenly. “First baseman.”

“Ah! Of course! Were you any good?” Montgomery joked.

“At everything but playing in front of the crowds, otherwise I’d be in the major leagues,” he replied, tilting his head just slightly to imply that he was joking, his sunglasses glinting at the movement, and Montgomery barked a laugh.

“I like this one, Miss Pauling!” Montgomery said, and Pauling just barely caught herself from physically relaxing at it.

“We do too, Mr. Montgomery,” she agreed. “I was under the impression that you’re very busy today, so we won’t keep you for too long, we just wanted to sort out the final details surrounding the manufacturing rights for the—“

“—Pacific Northwest branch, up into British Columbia and Alberta, of course,” Montgomery agreed, nodding faintly. “Of course, of course.” He turned to regard his own man in a dark suit, the one standing to the right, who appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to stare down Normandy, who was completely ignoring him. “My briefcase, please.”

The man handed over the briefcase, and Montgomery put it on his desk, opening it and pulling out a sheaf of papers. “All our requests are submitted and approved, at this point we just had a few dustbins to take care of regarding initial percentages and making sure everything is wired to the correct accounts, which names are undisclosed, things like that,” Pauling explained as he glanced through the papers.

“Right, right, everything looks good here,” the man murmured, nodding to himself, sending his long-white hair just ever-so-slightly out of place. “I’m assuming these more sensitive documents should be sent some way besides through the mail?”

“If you finish them today I can take them with me, otherwise either me or Mr. Normandy can return to pick them up at your convenience,” she replied, to which Normandy gave a singular nod.

“Oh, it would only take me a short while,” Montgomery said, waving a hand. “We have a lovely lounge just down the hall from here if you’d prefer to wait there, it should only take me ten, fifteen minutes at most. In the meantime, I do believe there’s also the manner of payment for services rendered.”

Miss Pauling tilted her head just slightly to one side, confused.

“I arranged with Helen already,” Montgomery explained, not looking up from where he was initialing a few things. “The payment, rather than being wired, she asked to be made in material investment. A venture of mine from years ago that she’s willing to sit on. Rather than gold or bonds, she agreed to take some old currency of mine that my family collected, from early 18th century New Zealand and Australia. Monetarily it’s worth around the same, and I’m quite a bit attached to it to be entirely frank, but it was at her request to buy the whole collection from me, and after years of the work we’ve been doing together, well, I’d never trust it with anyone else.”

He gestured to the other man, the one on his left, who stepped forward to hand him a manila envelope, which he passed to Pauling.

“Inside is both keys, the door alarm codes, and all other security information for the building where the collection is being stored. They’ll ask for a few codes and confirmation of identity, only because several other art collections and artifacts are being stored there by other affluent individuals such as myself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling said, taking the envelope gratefully.

“Think nothing of it, my dear. Helen talked me into it all her own,” he said easily enough. “Now, gentlemen, if you would let Miss Pauling and Mr. Normandy into our lounge? I should have these wrapped up before any of us can even think about lunch, eh?”

One of the suits showed the two of them through the doors and down the hallway, through two doors bracketed by similar suits who simply nodded politely at Pauling and ticked their chins at Normandy as they passed them.

Normandy posted up beside the door for all of three seconds before they shut and Pauling pulled her glasses up, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and making a vaguely distressed noise. He then promptly relaxed, instead leaning his hip against an armchair probably worth the same amount as a small car. “So, uh, we’re glad that he’s giving us a bunch of commemorative coins from when dinosaurs still walked the earth?” he asked just below normal speaking volume, eyebrows raised.

“Yes. Very glad. Because unlike about six people total on the planet, he hasn’t figured out yet how valuable those are.”

“What, is a picture of a kangaroo on some copper really gonna make up for a couple hundred thousand American dollars?” Normandy asked, sounding doubtful.

“Not copper. Something else,” she replied. “I can’t tell you much more about it other than that, but these coins are made of something priceless to us. And to the Administrator.”

“…Love? Memories? The magic of family?” he joked, cracking a smile, and she rolled her eyes, moving to open the envelope and start reading the papers inside. “Hey, uh, not to question whether my job should exist, but what the hell am I doing here, exactly? Besides carrying a briefcase. Like, chivalry isn’t dead but I really don’t think you need me carrying your bags and holding the door for you.”

“You’re helping with security, basically,” she replied, adjusting her glasses to squint at tiny handwriting about the collection. “Mr. Montgomery is trustworthy, but he mostly hires out to… well, people like us. His security detail is mostly people we’d rather have screened, freelancers, stuff like that. A lot of people we contract out to are like that. Most of them have heard about me and know better than to try and pull something, since I can hold my own pretty well, but if they haven’t, seeing a second person might persuade them to think it over again.”

“Oh, so I’m like, uh, when it says ‘tow zone’ next to the no parking signs even though nobody checks, or when they’ve got a camera in the corner of the store that isn’t even plugged into anything,” he said, and the looked up at him, confused. “Like, uh, what’s the word… I’m a casual deterrent.”

“Sure,” she said, because it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, shuffling the papers back away and closing the envelope again, making a note to ask the Administrator if she should change their current containment procedures to be closer to Mr. Montgomery’s. “Just… if there’s a fight, you deal with it, otherwise you just stand there and look like you’re paying attention.”

“That’s what the sunglasses are for,” he agreed. “I was blinking morse code at the guy across from me literally the whole time.”

“You know morse code?” Pauling asked, surprised.

“Just the alphabet, ‘S.O.S.’, and ‘ass’.”

She rolled her eyes again, and that’s when the door opened.

She expected Mr. Montgomery, not one of the men in suits. “Excuse me, both of you, if you don’t mind,”the man said, accent having the slightest English tilt to it, a Londoner if Pauling had to guess. “You’re Miss Pauling, the Mann Co. affiliate, yes?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, hesitant, and glanced at Normandy.

“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. Mr. Montgomery have you the wrong envelope on accident,” the man said apologetically, extending a hand forward. “We apologize for this unfortunate mix-up, it’s really quite embarrassing, but those documents are sensitive and we’ll be needing to see them back now.”

Pauling looked at him, and within a moment, shifted her expression. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she agreed, nodding. “No, right, of course. These aren’t the papers for the currency collection?”

“I’m afraid not,” the Brit agreed, head tilting just slightly, hand still extended, moving a fraction further forward.

“Well, thank goodness we figured out now and not with us halfway back,” she joked, and moved to hold the folder closer to her body. “I’ll take this right back to Mr. Montgomery, then.”

“He’s sent me to correct the error,” the man explained simply.

“Right,” she said, and saw in her periphery that Normandy had already started sneaking a hand in towards his primary, clearly having pieced together something she was only suspecting. “We can bring this to his office, then, right down the hall.”

“You misunderstand,” the man said, taking a step forward again. “I’ll be taking it to his office myself.”

“That’s funny,” Pauling said. “I didn’t realize you had clearance to be in there. Or to be carrying a semi-automatic instead of a standard handgun.”

The Brit reached for the semi-automatic, and before he could even get it out properly, Normandy hit one clean shot to the side of his head and another to his thigh, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Pauling had only as far as pulling her own handgun free, thumb on the safety, and breathed a sigh of relief, glancing over at Normandy, shifting to more comfortably hold her gun. “Quick reflexes,” she noted.

“Just noticed a lot sooner, maybe,” he shrugged, stepping forward to glance over the body, tucking his gun back away.

“What was your hint?”

“He’s here to give us the right folder, yeah? Well, why were his hands empty, then?”

She was just starting to nod and realize that as well when a second man shouldered through the door, holding a gun at the ready. Normandy scrambled to draw his own, but Pauling fired a shot into his knee, shoulder, and neck to send him dropping before he was even close. “There’s quick on the draw, and then there’s prepared,” she said pointedly. “Gotta think of if there’s more than one, new guy.”

He nodded, and drew his gun again, bending to hit the guy on the ground at the temple hard enough to knock him out if he wasn’t unconscious already. He then glanced up at the sound of a shout from the other side of the door, two men shouldering through, guns drawn but lowered. It was only the firm eye contact they made with both her and Normandy that made her pause the millisecond it took to realize these ones weren’t trying to kill them.

“Pauling, what on earth is going on here?!” Montgomery demanded, entering the room and staring with wide eyes at the bodies on the ground. “What could’ve possessed you to—“

“He was trying to run off with these documents,” she explained quickly, gesturing with the envelope. “He knew whatever was in here was valuable.”

“He drew his gun, sir,” Normandy added, tipping his head down towards the body, and Pauling glanced down as well and found herself a little surprised. He’d rearranged the man just slightly, apparently, adjusting the arm to be holding the gun a bit further outward. “Other one was aiming to kill.”

“My, my,” Montgomery tsk’d, shaking his head as he surveyed the scene. “What a mess. My apologies, Miss Pauling, Mr. Normandy.”

“It’s alright, but you need to start doing more thorough checks on your staff, Mr. Montgomery,” Pauling stressed.

“He’s only been here two weeks, sir, he was one of the men we hired in a hurry after the incident last month,” one of the bodyguards said, and Montgomery shook his head.

“Thank goodness nobody was hurt,” he sighed. “Mutiny, and besides that, they’re bleeding on my carpet. Here are those papers, Miss Pauling—what a day, eh?”

“It’s really alright, we handled it,” Pauling assured him, giving her bravest smile, a little exasperated now.

“Right, right, you and the first baseman,” he agreed, and Normandy fought back an actual smile.

“If you’d like, we can take care of those for you,” Pauling said, gesturing at the bodies. “To pay you back for the carpet and the scare.”

“Sounds fair to me,” Montgomery agreed, clearly relieved.

“My dad’s gonna be pissed, by the way,” Normandy was so helpful as to say on the way back up the path to the base. “And you’re fielding that.”

“About the suit, or the fight?” she asked, glancing at his clothes where he was somewhat covered in a fine dusting of mud and grime from the gravedigging, shovel still in his free hand.

“Both. Mostly the fight. Your fault for saying it’d be an easy one to start with,” he said.

“If it was going to be that much of a problem, you wouldn’t have gotten this job. I’d just have made you go do dishes all day or something,” Pauling replied.

“Point taken,” he said, walking ahead to get the door, holding it open for her. “Wait, we’re allowed to mention what we do, right? Just not names?”

“Or locations, even with travel distance. Round up to the hour if it comes up,” she replied.

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, trailing a step behind her as she led the way through the base.

In the common area, there was a bit of a ruckus happening. Soldier, Heavy, and Demo appeared to be having some kind of arm wrestling competition on a rapidly-toppling table, the Engineer was on a stepstool trying to fix the ceiling fan, and Sniper appeared to be half-watching the beginnings of an argument between Pyro and the Spy regarding use of the oven as Medic patched up a burn on his arm.

“Hullo,” Sniper greeted the two of them, sounding a little bored, Medic giving them a brief, polite nod. Normandy’s eyebrows were raised pretty far as he surveyed the room.

“Hi, Sniper,” she greeted in return, then cleared her throat, raised her voice. “Team meeting in five minutes! New mission for next week!”

Groans from the room at large, the eight mercenaries starting to finish up what they were doing and filing out. Spy moved over, glancing over Normandy and starting to talk to him in rapid-fire French, picking smaller bits of gravel off of his suit as they walked.

“Alright,” she addressed the room, Normandy peeling off from getting mother hen’d by Spy to stand next to the blackboard with her. “Monday, you’re all going on a transport mission. Getting the truck from point A to point B with everything in the boxes intact. Already we’ve had to put up with some people trying to get ahold of these things, so bring your guns.”

“Oh, our guns, you said? Lads, this is a serious one, keep your heads on a feckin' swivel, she’s sayin’ we might even need guns, can you believe it?” Demo faux-gasped, and chuckled when Spy bopped him on the arm, rolling his eyes at the Scot's theatrics.

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved off, flipping through the papers a bit. “So Engie, I’ll need the keys to the truck, me and Normandy are going to be loading those tomorrow, all of you need to be at this drop point bright and early.”

“How early?” Heavy rumbled.

“Six. Hour and a half of drive from here.”

Some complaints from the room that she sighed at.

“Hey, hey, calm the hell down,” Normandy cut in, and she glanced over at him where he had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. “You chuckleheads get to have all eight of you to unload the damn thing, me and Miss P gotta do all the rest of this on our own and probably kill twenty guys on the way there and back. She had to be up at 6 AM, workin’ since 7 AM, lunch break at noon and nothin’ else, and we just got back now at, what, fuckin’, 10, 11 PM? Any of you work her shift and then see if you even got the energy to complain about wakin’ up early, how about that?”

The room went utterly devoid of complaint or backsass. “Thank you, Normandy,” she said politely, and he just nodded once, glancing off to the side. “Anyways, anything new on this end? Spy, how are you adjusting?”

“Very well,” he said simply. “I have nothing pressing to say. Once I’ve been updated from the stock weaponry provided here to my requested preferred weaponry, I believe I should do just fine.”

“I see you already have Herr Normandy digging graves,” Medic chimed in. “Straight into the hard labor, ja?”

“Eh, hey, y’know, it’s why they keep us young people around,” he shrugged, grinning, and there was a brief uproar to drown out Medic’s entirely offended scoffing and Spy’s snort-laughing.

“Get ‘im, lad!” Demo cheered, and Normandy indeed looked fairly proud of himself.

“Monday, transport mission,” Pauling noted over the noise, writing it up on the chalkboard to hide her own smile from the room. “Normandy, you and me are doing the boxes tomorrow. Everyone on the same page? Good. Dismissed. Oh, and Pyro—stop taking the fire alarms down when they beep. They’re beeping because you light things on fire in the base. Do that outside.”

“Oh, hey, uh, helmet guy, All-American Beef,” Normandy called, and Soldier straightened up. “Here’s your shovel back. Gettin’ my own tomorrow.”

 Soldier walked directly over to him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “That’s a high honor, Cadet,” he said, tone grave. “Do not take this responsibility lightly.”

“I, uh, I won’t?” he said hesitantly, and blinked a few times as the shovel was carefully taken from him before it was promptly marched from the room in double-time. Only then did Normandy look over at her. “So he’s always like that?”

“You’ll get used to it,” she assured, dusting chalk from her hands. “You should get to sleep soon, we have to be up early.”

“Sure thing, Miss P.”

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #dad!spy #father-son bonding au #shut up me #que?#in this au he picks a fake name like she does. later i think demo starts calling him norman and some of the others do as well as goofs #also apologies for montgomery i couldnt quite get away with not naming random rich guy. just barely scraped by with guards one through four #everybody talks

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all-about-seggs · 3 years

Text

False Love-

Rating: ❌ 18+, Explicit ❌

Pairing- Timeskip! Yandere Oikawa Tooru x fem reader

Word count- 1.8 K

Warnings- Aphrodisiacs, fingering, dub-con, vaginal sex, Oikawa is delusional and sad.

A/n: This is my fic for the Valentine's day Collab that @ultimate-astridwriting hosted. I hope I was able to live up to their expectations (ᗒᗩᗕ).

Roaming around the busy streets of Palermo, ginormous heart shaped props occupying the narrow lane paints Oikawa's vision in scarlet. Love is in the air, as they say, was quite literally true for the beautiful city of Argentina.

In the midst of giggling couples and warm twinkling lights, the annoyed click of his tongue gets drowned out; Unnoticed ;making him recognise his own solitude.

Normally he'd have hoards of girls vying for his attention, trying to take him to their place but maybe it was because of his age, or the mountain of experience with the momentary flings that made him want to search for something deeper.

He used to be fine with superficiality of his relationships, the repeated cycle of getting himself off of any faceless women who came onto him then forgetting her existence the next day was fulfilling in itself. Afterall, his career has always taken priority.

Though the last remaining brain cells of his body tries to rationalise the situation he is getting himself in, Oikawa had already decided what kind of connection he wanted and and was just going to let himself have that. Selfishness is not something he ever disliked anyway.

He felt no need to hide his disdain, Oikawa wasn't one to be subtle about his pettiness either, that's why the contrasting emotions of his own, clashing with the jubilant ones of his surrounding annoyed him to no end.

The chocolates wrapped up neatly in his hand felt heavy, causing his fingers to tremble slightly. It wasn't the weight of the box but what he intended to do with the said item that made his insides twist with excitement.

Yes. It was excitement. Happiness and pure bliss that he felt when he rang the doorbell of your modest appartment in the costal side of the city. Despite having the sea right next to your place, the cold February air still made you shiver as you opened the door to see Oikawa standing at your doorsteps, all smiles with a dash of extra in his typical 'hand on the hip' pose.

Surprised wouldn't even being to describe your current state of shock. You spend the next few seconds just starting at his ever confident form before his voice brings you back to your senses.

" Yooohooo~ babe, I'm sure I don't look 'that' good. I just finished with practice so my hair's probably a mess right now", he continued on with his cheery tone,

" Come on, It's not like you have anyone else to spend Valentine's with, so why not just let me in already and look", dangling the expensive looking bag in front of your eyes, his expression took on a slightly sinister turn in their features, the kind that went away as soon as they appeared not leaving any trace of its original condescending vibes.

" I made these chocolates for you", emphasizing on the made part he stares right into your eyes, as if waiting for his well earned praise. Heaving a sigh of defeat you release the door know you didn't knew you had in a death grip, opening the door completely in a gesture to usher him inside.

Oikawa quickly makes himself at home, plopping down on your couch with his long legs stretched.

This was the first time you had seen him after the rejection of the high in demand position of his girlfriend. The face he made when you turned him down was of utter disbelief so much so that you almost reconsidered your decision. But you weren't that wishy washy in your opinions and his was a type you made sure to ignore.

You were aware of his salty personality and the habit of holding grudges, so you thought after that fateful day he'd ignore you like the plague, but for all his arrogance Oikawa's face was the epitome of gleeful.

" Soooo", starting off with an awkward note you casually try to sit on the furthest arm chair from the couch Oikawa was currently occupying and tried to ask what exactly was he expecting out of his current visit but he quickly cut you off by his own booming voice.

" Before all that, why don't you try these?", Pointing to the chocolates he starts unwrapping them, as he pulls the decorative ribbon, two rows of brown, heart shaped delicacies appeared.

"Don't be shy, I made these for you afterall", he remarked, pushing the box on your side of the table.

You didn't think much of it, afterall, 'making' chocolates just means buying store bought ones and just melting them into different shapes right?

Popping one small cube in your mouth you let it dissolve, your taste buds filling up with the sweetness of the treat. Just as it finished you heard Oikawa speak again.

"You probably know why I'm here, but I'll tell you again", readjusting his posture, he sits straight, both the look in his eyes and tone taking a more serious turn.

" I thought about why turned me down that day and I finally realised......You were just scared weren't you?", rather than upset he sounded relieved as he continued with self assuredness ,

" Of commitment? Or because of my job? Either way I can already assure you that I was already prepared to put you above everything else if the situation calls for it".

You were just sitting, listening to his outrageous conclusions when you felt your heartbeat increase. The sweaty palms of your hand to the moistness in your core, your entire body started reacting in ways you'd never experience before.

"You thought that I'd keep our relationship on the back burner and only focus on my career? You were just lonely weren't you?", With every passing second his delusional words seemed to work with more and more intensity that didn't helped your hyperventilating state at all.

"And you rejected me because you didn't wanted to have an absent boyfriend right? So in reality-", by the time he finished he was already in front of you, the fire in the depths of your core made your mind hazy and eyes unfocused. You wanted to ask what was happening or what he put in those chocolates but forming any coherent words was a feat on its own in your current condition.

He smoothly takes one of your burning hand in his cool ones, the contact making you instantly lean onto him for more. You're sitting in a daze when he pulls you up from the arm chair and places you on his lap back on the longer couch.

In your already aroused state, the soft strokes of Oikawa's fingers on your scalp made you succumb further into the need for release as you sit on his lap with your head resting against his shoulder. The room was now quite safe for his soothing voice that came from right about your head.

"You love me right?", the words that come out of his mouth in the heated moment betrayed all his attempts at feigned composure. He may have spiked the chocolates with some sort of aphrodisiacs but the way your heart hurted after hearing this made it seem more like a love potion.

With his barely audible voice they sounded almost like a plea, another desperate measure to get what he wanted.

Before you could even notice, your vision tilts and you find yourself pinned to the couch, with Oikawa hovering right above you. His hands on your sweatpants, lowering them all the way to your ankles. And the weirdest thing?

You didn't wanted him to stop.

Not when he spread you out completely in front of him. Not when he was shamelessly staring at your naked pussy with a maniacal glint in his eyes and definitely not when he shoved two of his thick digits up your leaking pussy that covered his entire palm in your slick at the slightest of contact.

Your soft walls clenching around his fingers was all he needed before he stared unzipping his own pants. He gazed at your panting body while he pulled his cock out, flipping you on your stomach with your ass up and face shoved down.

You barely cared about anything but getting fucked good at this point when you heard some rumbling behind you, as soon as Oikawa was done putting on a condom he lined himself up against your entrance.

Not wasting any more time he slips past your folds until he is buried to the hilt. The feeling of being stretched out and filled to the brim coaxed out a few lewd moans from your mouth.

Your slick was enough to make Oikawa pick up a hard and fast pace, your entire body shook with every thrust of his. He kept his hands on your waist, pushing himself as deep as he can before pulling out until only the tip remains. Your own orgasm started building up with his every action.

His member throbbed against your insides and the moans that slipped past his gritted teeth indicated he already came but his cock showed no signs of softening as he kept going with his brutal pace.

You bury your head sideways, tongue lolling out and covering the fabric beneath it in your drool as Oikawa lodges his cock further into your pussy from behind. He moves in and out of you with ease, the slick from both your pussy and his previous release was more than enough to keep his memeber going.

Gripping your ass cheek in one hand, he trails his other one in between your thighs. Quickly his digits grazes your clit, the pressure they added along with the heavy thrusts pulled you closer to the edge. The anticipation of your impending release was all your lust laden head could think about the feeling of ecstasy that you desperately needed.

The intensity of your orgasm made your eyes roll back, and if it wasn't him holding you firmly in place, you probably would've fell down the couch. With your entire body shaking your panted heavily from your mouth to calm yourself.

Oikawa doesn't make any attempt to pull out or move and even after your breathing becomes even his member is still lodged deep inside you. He gently starts gyrating his hips against your pussy again and it becomes obvious that you weren't the only one under the effects of aphrodisiacs.

As cum trickles down your inner thighs, all you could decipher was the overwhelming bolts of pleasure Oikawa's cock provided and the sounds of your skin smacking against eachother's.

With his hands on both of your sides, he lowers himself down until your back was flush against his toned chest, his raspy voice rumbled through your ear as he spoke in a dark possessive tone,

"Don't forget..... we are in love"

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyu x reader #Oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #Oikawa Tooru #haikyuu oikawa #Haikyuu Smut #smut #Oikawa Tooru x reader #Oikawa smut #my writing #valentine's day collaboration #tw: yandere #tw: dub con

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remsmoonlight · 3 years

Text

— title : west side polaroids

— word count : 2.4k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : the first day unbound by the table is marked by you both.

— warnings : none except minimal mentions of death and descriptions of blood

note: please please please go easy on me i have not written any john content in months but omg i adore the song west side by ariana .. issa dreamy vibe , but yeah i couldn’t decide the title so i merged them ..... anyways :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* requests are open ! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Life that does not revolve around the endless cycle of death and immorality is still new to John, the colour of crimson may have well been his favourite colour with how much he’d found it coating nearly every inch of his skin on a frequent basis. Some nights he’d awake and was sure he could see the stains of blood dried into his nails, though the flood of a bedside lamp would soon flush that worry away. Never had he been the one to imagine a life outside of what he knows, though as he stares at his image in the lengthy mirror before him, that’s what he observes in this moment. A free man.

A whole thirty days had passed since that fateful night when he secured his freedom from his .. job, wanting to allow a sufficient recovery time. Any longer and he knew you well enough to know you’d be breaking his front door down. Luckily, many of the cuts and furious bruises had almost completely healed, while some more stubborn than others were covered with a little more difficulty than he’d prefer. Still, he hopes that your reaction isn’t too explosive. With great reluctance he’d shared enough details with you to understand him and why he is the way he is, and should he not make it back you wouldn’t be left in limbo waiting for him to return. Knowing how often you found yourself worrying over him. Since when did I deserve something so good? he asks himself now and every day that greets him.

He never wants you to be left with a ghost. Especially when you had dug so deeply to prevent him from being consumed by the repetition to death and destruction by his ability to maximise results from his body when required.

Contact had been scarce between you both, and you accepted it. Knowing just what was transpiring as you went through your daily activities, wondering what John could be up to. Staying honest to yourself, your mind had conjured up the most ghastly images, a mental sketchbook where the next page would only be worse than the previous. Though, the moment you heard his voice through your mobile, you felt all the tight tension that wracked your limbs alleviate to nothing more than a dull ache that you have since forgotten.

John is a good liar however when he shared the intricate details of the life he had led, his eyes shone a truth and a pain of growing tired of all the slaughter he’d had a hand dipped into many a time. You believed him and you still do. In spite of this it’s still a difficult task for your mind to wrap itself around but for John? You would.

“ there you are, stranger! “ you greet warmly as you open your arms to finally embrace him after so long.

Your eyes shut while you relish the physical contact that you have sorely missed, you release a heavy breath of air as the moment you have been counting down to is here and you can grasp it with your fingertips. Sensations unreliant on your eyes hone in on the comfort you now feel, the smooth material you can feel to the smell of the cologne worn by John ⏤ a gentle smile drifts softly onto your features in response to the warm shield of solace envelopes you whole.

“ it took longer than I thought. “ he says as he shakes his head, you feel the action from your position

“ I'd say.. I thought I’d never see you again. “

“ I wouldn’t let that happen. “ a low whisper travels from his lips, you can feel his warm breath on you as he leans down, the action causing you to shiver at the faintly sinister tone that had been so close to overwhelming them.

In your heart you feel the strength in his words, it’s not a statement but a promise with all the faith and trust poured into them. Never had you met someone as dedicated and resolute as the man, you’d have called him a psychic because whenever he says something it often comes true, born into existence from his drive.

“ that is something I believe. “ you reply, your voice dulling ever so slightly in octaves.

A mighty stone wall had once been John, any attempt to get to know him proved a punishing task. Though, when a crack had become apparent it became obvious that a gentle touch had been a foreign concept for him but when he’d accepted it as real? The taste of what life could transform into made him want more, to open the door he’d never once entertained of unlocking. John is incredibly grateful you’d never become frustrated and left as soon as you’d arrived in his life, refusing to want another life without your touch.

“ so, are we going to stand here all day or are we going to get in that car you adore so, so much? “

With the barest of groans escaping his throat, he reluctantly disentangles himself from your form, already missing the contact with you. Turning, you move with an energetic vigour buzzing in your toes ⏤ from your position you fail to realise John has himself glued to your form with an affectionate warmth pooling in his eyes. The corner of his eyes fondly crinkle ever so slightly at the view.

A forceful wind erupts in the car as it picks up, you can feel the pleasant freshness dance carelessly on your skin, tickling the strands of hair left loose. It feels like a dream you muse as you shift your gaze to John, really beginning to understand the butterflies that all these television shows and movies talk about as you take in the concentration forging itself into his features as his eyes never leave the road. You don’t believe in the idea of destiny, but you can’t help but note how it feels how the stars modified and aligned themselves for you.

Recently, the purchase of a polaroid camera had arrived on your doorstep and today would be the best opportunity to try it out!

“ they’ll leave me alone ⏤ “ he stops suddenly as he assures the unspoken question between you both. Can we live in peace? “ ⏤ us alone now. “

“ you’re sure? It sounds like a shady business, what if someone doesn’t take note? “ worry bleeds into your expression as your foot begins to tap nervously, with only a peek into another society it has left you concerned when John is involved.

“ one thing my world thrives on is rules. Codes. “ he assures you gently, aware of how the other side of the world lives out its gruesome fantasies in real life shocks you.

A heavy hand lays dormant on your leg, coarse fingertips only moving every so often to draw trails on your clothed skin, as if to discover a depth that lays hidden from view. Of course, you both know that John knows every inch of you as you know yourself, many nights spent burning the entirety of the other into your minds with only the moonlight acting as your guiding light.

“ well, I can say that’s good to hear. “ is said by you with a short bout of nervous laughter. “ you can be sure? “

“ you have nothing to worry about. “ he remarks with confidence, attempting to soothe any and all of your fears you have in regards to your situation you both now share.

“ okay, “ you say with a nod, trying to affirm yourself of there being no phantoms pursuing the man behind you from the shadows. “ I trust you, John. I’m just being silly. “

“ you’re not being silly, I understand. “

Silence overwhelms the confined space you share, you take in just the lack of pretence in this moment. Nothing felt between you is forced, an affection woven with a glistening thread so naturally that the bond had been shaped into your reality before either of you had even realised. All John knew was that the curious feeling would be strengthened would he follow his emotions, and that is exactly what he did. Gratitude leaves his heart feeling full at the choice, finally realising that he can settle into a life of normality. An adventure he has never once had but a glow radiates within him at being able to share it with you.

A salty fragrance slowly seeps into your sense of smell, the sounds of seagulls erupting in the distance as you realise just where John is driving you. The chance, living in a city, to go to the beach is scarce thanks to the distance, so you can feel a childish elation swell deep inside of you. Running on this emotion, you pull out the camera held safely in the confines of your bag. Turning it around and shifting your body so suddenly you poke your tongue out and a brief, blinding flash of light erupts before disappearing from existence as soon as it came.

“ oh, now this is a good one! “ you cheer as your lips curve so smoothly into a satisfied grin as you gaze upon the small print held between your fingers.

John says nothing, only knowing of his amusement through the abrupt laughter and warmth blazing so intensely in his eyes.

“ you’ll have to put those into an album or something. “

“ that’s actually a good idea, or a scrapbook? “ you ask with the idea brightening your entire expression. “ documenting this notable day! “

“ yeah, exactly. “ he agrees, a short laugh is shared with you in response. In awe at your naivety, once he’d been envious of the trait ⏤ because you’d never have seen the things he has, but he understands it now. Neither of you can help what you were born into, but he can have control over the person he becomes and that does not include harbouring resentment over something so trivial. The idea seems so foolish now, as it has become something he has grown to adore.

The two of you exit the vehicle, effortlessly your hands find each other through the lengthy space to the other's warmth in yours. John is unable to stop himself from admiring facile peace that clouds your features as you stare upon the limitless majesty of which the deep richness of the blue of the ocean expands way beyond what the eye can distinguish. There’s no worry nor emotional strain colouring itself into burdening your relaxed features.

Your fingers get to work photographing the scene before you, wanting not to document the beauty before you itself but rather the sentiment that dominates the moment with a heavy hand that you’d dare not maneuver away.

From behind you can feel arms encapsulate you against his chest as he parts his lips, as if to say something, mutter some romantic words but he stops immediately. His being wanting to fully submerge himself in a feeling of being enveloped by the serenity. Right now, it’s just you in each other’s company with nothing of the outside world being able to scratch and claw at your attention. He can finally allow himself to be lost in something good, someone who does not see him as a monster, no matter how many atrocities have occurred by his hands. God forbid any ghastly spirits should try to end the dream of this life, he would go to the ends of the Earth to shroud you from any harm from the shadiness he once delved into.

He leaves a flutter of sweet kisses on the crown of your head, you allow a nonchalant smile to illuminate your lips, a soft giggle at the action hovers between you both. John moves his grip to release your waist from his hold, a slow movement towards the bulky camera that lays safe in your grasp. He steps back with a gentleness that he’d never imagined could be contained within his form, and lifts the lens up to his awaiting gaze. You turn just as he lays pressure onto the button, a flash greeting you as you do ⏤ you’re caught off guard, his favourite version of you.

“ come on, John! “ you complain, fingers move to fuss with the loose ends of your hair played with by the tempestuous winds.

“ I couldn’t resist, I’m sorry. “ he apologises with an accompanying smirk, fondly eyeing the photograph of you being caught unaware.

“ it better look good. “ a warning falls from your lips, of course, it’s an empty one ⏤ you wouldn’t spit any venom his way over something so inconsequential.

“ you always look perfect to me. “

With a flood of tenderness and devotion filling your vision, hands inch higher and higher as they snake up the chest of John ⏤ he knows the movement well, a permanent muscle memory that brings him closer to your lips. The touch is so faint, almost feather like, this kiss lacking the pleading need and instinctive desire from his direction ⏤ instead, this one he takes comfort in your presence. He knows you both now have all the time to get lost in one another.

“ you think you can get around me easily? “ you question him swiftly, a good natured air of audacity sparkles in your gaze as you stare up to the tall man.

“ I know I can. “ John promises, already missing the lingering touch you leave behind like a tattoo on his mouth.

“ you sound so sure.. “ you remark, an amused tone coats your words heavily in its substance as your fingertips trace nonexistent patterns in the back of his neck.

John fights himself to prevent a groan of pleasure at the action from clawing its way free from him, already feeling himself melting into your form. He’s surprised you’re not one person.

“ Because I am. “ he states, a lone nod accompanies the action before he descends once more, itching to feel the silk of your lips on his once more on his.

Lifting the camera up at a slant, the crashing of the waves drowns out the click of the camera, he takes out the physical memory of this period of tranquility and adoration. You take it from him, your sight examining the image before you. If you’d had doubts before, you would no longer ⏤ a permanent reminder in picture form of the intimacy and care you share equally.

This is a day to remember.

“ I guess you’re correct. “

#john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick oneshot #john wick fluff

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derekmorganscrocs · 3 years

Text

Last Summer: Ace x Reader (OneShot)

Here’s an adorable Ace gif for you because I love him.

Word Count: 2, 064

Summary: You and Ace are best friends but it turns into something more.

Quick Note: This is the first thing I’ve written that I’ve fully finished and am posting so I’m like freakin our right now. Also this isn’t my usual style but I’m super happy with how it turned out and I hope you (anyone who reads this) likes it! I’m considering a series but I also have several other things in the works, so it might not be soon. Anyways, let’s get this show on the road!

Ace and Y/n. Best friends since they could walk. Inseparable through elementary, middle, and high school. Where do we start?

To be honest, there’s not a lot to explain. You and Ace kind of just... were. It made sense. Best friends, always had the other’s back. You both work at the Claw, you’re both a little burnt out and worn down, but still clever and funny. Everything always made sense.

You always joke, laugh, and do stupid shit together. You’ve bailed him out of trouble more times than you can count. He’s done the same for you. He’s your favourite person, you’re his.

And you’ve been in love with each other forever. Except neither one of you can tell that the other loves you back. So we’re at a roadblock.

You got weird when Ace dated Laura back in the day.

Ace got weird when you dated James, the biker dude in high school.

You got weird when Ace started crushing on Bess.

Ace got weird when you mentioned that Ryan Hudson was hot in a douchebag kind of way.

Summer was different though. Had you known it’d be your last summer before you spotted Dead Lucy, saw Tiffany Hudson’s ghost, were introduced to the spirit world, and started doing seances and rituals every other day, you may have appreciated it more. But oh well, right?

Not right. The start of summer was when you started realizing you couldn’t go on the way you were, but that you also couldn’t live without Ace. So how do you confess? You don’t.

A couple weeks go by before you start to notice the way Ace looks at you, how he always stands just a little closer than anyone else does. How he puts himself between you and the guys that ogle you as the two of you walk to the pier. The way his jaw clenches when someone cute hits on you. His hand always right beside yours, and you wonder if he gets the urge to grab your hand like you do his.

And by the end of June, you’re this weird something. Not just friends, you’ve both seen the way the other stares. But it’s unspoken. You don’t know if you can bring yourself to tell him. He doesn’t know if he can bear the risk of losing you.

Don’t get it twisted, despite the buried feelings you and Ace are the best pair of best friends anyone in Horseshoe Bay has ever seen. Constantly laughing and cracking jokes, seeing who can get more tips in a day. Ace is always the one you turn to, you’re the one Ace turns to. For pretty much anything.

When July rolls around, you both get more time off. The fourth comes quickly, and you make plans to watch the fireworks from the roof of the claw. Upon climbing up at sunset, you decide to just hang out for a few hours until it’s actually time for the fireworks. You talk and joke, and you and Ace carve your initials into one of the shingles. Laying against the shingles, he only carves an A, and you ask if you’ll ever find out what his last name is.

“Maybe when you take it.”

Those are the five words that change everything. He looks up from his knife, startled at his own words. You’re frozen in place as the sky finally reaches its full darkness. And the first boom grabs your attention. You look over in the direction of the beach, and see red sparkles in the sky. Turning back, Ace is sitting up now, both of you still shell-shocked at his joke. Was it a joke?

His knife is long gone, tucked safely in his pocket, and he grabs your face and kisses you. You kiss him back, obviously. He kisses you passionately, slowly but strongly, and fireworks erupt. Both metaphorically and literally. You both end up laying side by side on the roof, kissing and watching the fireworks. It’s the best night ever.

But it’s never made official. There’s still no blurted out confessions, and it never happens again. His eyes still dart to your lips when you speak to him, you still imagine his arms around your waist, and you both still stare longingly at the other whenever their back is turned.

Until August rolls around, a month filled with storms and fog. And death. Ryan Hudson and his goons pull up for dinner. You and Ace serve them when all the others bail, make jokes about insufferable rich people and stare at each other’s mouths, both trying to not get caught as you wish you could just have what you want.

Then the lights go out. Screaming outside from Nancy, and Tiffany Hudson is dead. You and Ace are pretty much free to go, alibis confirmed. The next day Nancy comes to you with evidence that Tiffany Hudson was killed by Lucy Sable. Dead Lucy. Oh god.

The case unfolds and you’re wrapped up in a supernatural mystery. All the while trying to figure out your very natural mystery. What the hell is going on between you and Ace? It’s normal but not, and you don’t want to lose him, but you can feel the drift starting. It’s so uncertain. For once in your life, nothing makes sense.

You cover well though. Burying your feelings is a lot easier than it should be, and you and Ace still joke and pull stupid shit all the time. George and Bess are tired of being caught in the crossfire of your pranks, Nancy would be, but the only time she’s actually noticed anything is when you shot her with a nerf gun because Ace dodged. Nick, the guy from the garage, makes his way into your crew, and takes immense amusement from you and Ace. It’s fine. Great, even.

Then in September, after Tiffany Hudson’s funeral, you go to the Claw to talk to Ace. But he’s beyond talking. He’s got his tongue in Laura Tandy’s throat. And you knew she was back in town, hell, that’s what pushed you to finally talk to Ace. Only you’re too late. You’ve wasted the summer, your summer, being afraid of losing him. Just to lose him anyways.

So you spend a miserable month pretending you’re fine and fake gagging every time him and Laura have their backs turned on you. You bitch to Bess, who’s all too keen on the drama. Nancy’s so wrapped up in the paranormal and her own love life that she’s barely bothered to notice that you’re drowning. George on the other hand... she’s supportive. Well as supportive as George can be. Mostly threatening Laura and saying she’ll fire Ace if you want her to. But you can’t do that. He may only be a dishwasher at the Claw, but he loves it. He loves being part of the team.

And then you walk in on Laura asking Ace to go to Paris with her. You nearly lose it, but manage to keep it together, hiding around the corner with a hand clamped over your mouth as tears threaten to finally spill free. When they’re out of sight, you call Bess, then George, then Nancy, all to no avail. And so you’re hyperventilating and alone, sitting on the front porch of the Claw when Nick swoops in to save you.

Of course it was Nick. The only one who doesn’t know about the whole mess with Ace. So he makes you explain and watches in horror as you refuse to let tears fall and successfully convince yourself to just not be sad. Over the next few days he turns into a brotherly figure, managing to help you realize that feelings are okay to have.

So the garage is your new hangout, and you don’t realize that Ace is actually missing you. Because the only one he wants to ask about going to France was you. Nick sends you back to work on the fourth day, you don’t want to go but he forces you. He says ‘mixing shitty Caesars is the best remedy for any amount of pain.’ It’s the first time he’d seen you laugh in a while. Actually, the first time you’d laughed in a while.

The first person you see when you walk in the diner, of course, was Ace. Sitting at the bar, staring into the wall’s soul. You manage a quiet ‘hey’, and when he turns to see you looking mostly back to normal, he nearly tackles you into a hug. He manages to restrain himself though, not sure what to do. You two never fight. Is this even a fight? How do you make up from a not-fight-fight? Instead he asks you to sit with him. You do, reluctantly, but only because he insists and you can never say no to him.

“Say the word and I’ll stay. Say you want me here and I won’t go.”

And there he goes, changing everything again. You freeze, just like on the Fourth of July, and stare at him in shock. This time though, he isn’t surprised, it’s just you who’s shell-shocked. It takes you a while to understand that he is actually saying what he’s saying, and you kind of just stare at him for a minute. Then you make your decision.

“I can’t tell you what to do. You need to make this call on your own.”

And then, you mix Caesars. And more Caesars, and more Caesars. The restaurant could be supplied for a week if it weren’t a festival day. You would’ve kept going, but what’s left in the bottom of the vodka bottle looked pretty delicious, so you down it instead. Still mostly sober, but tipsy enough to manage a smile, you patted George on the back and said goodbye before heading to the garage.

Nick makes you crash on his couch in the loft, and after a power nap and a glass of water you’re back to completely sober. Good as new. The only thing that’s missing is... your phone. You left it at the Claw earlier. Which means you have to go back. And probably see Ace again.

So back you go. You get the phone without running into anyone, but pause at the sound of voices in the dining area. Frozen in the kitchen, you watch as Ace tells Laura he’s staying. That he has a ‘purpose here. And a person.’ She tells him to miss her, which gives you mixed vibes, and leaves.

“Ace?”

“Jesus! Oh, Y/n! You’re-you’re here. Oh that’s great, you saw that. How much did you hear?”

“That you have a purpose here. And a person.”

A smile finally appears on your lips, and he reciprocates. You walk into the dining room, toward Ace. He watches your every move intently, as if he’s entranced with you. He is, because he hasn’t seen you smile since Laura came to town. And even though he’s been playing it happy, he’s been miserable. He loves Laura, he really does, but it’s more of the ‘maybe in another world’ kind of relationship.

You and Ace. That’s the ‘perfectly perfect, made for each other, soulmates, in any world’ type of relationship. Best friends to something more, with ups and down. Real. Not some whisk you off to Paris and live in a movie. Horseshoe Bay’s ugly, scary, haunted, real life.

Sitting on a barstool, back to the kitchen, you lean against the bar and look at Ace. You think about what to say. There’s so many things you could do. That you want to do.

Slap him.

Kiss him.

Throw him off the roof.

Hug him until he has to peel you off of him.

Throw a bottle at his head.

Jump into his arms, wrap your legs around his waist and stay there forever.

Stick Lucy on him to suck out his soul.

Kiss him until you run out of air.

Maybe you’ll say something instead. There’s lots of things you could say, but you’re not sure how many of them are true.

Did he really betray you by seeing Laura?

Are you grateful for this because you met Nick and gained a brother?

What would’ve happened if Laura never showed?

Are we still us?

Instead, you decide to go with something you know is the truth.

“I’m your person.”

And he smiles like he’s won the lottery.

Tags: @vexfulfun

#ace x reader #ace nancy drew #nancy drew cw #nancy drew #nancy drew fic #ace nancy drew x reader

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Text

Willow

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Reader, who is a witch (not tied to the og coven) is best friends with Michael. They decide to spend Valentines day together in outpost three. Based on this post, and the 'willow' music video by Taylor Swift.

Words: 3.0k+

Warnings: mentions of rituals/covens (its vague tho), slow burn, light angst, mutual pining, gross fluff, plot heavy and VERY descriptive I'm sorry dhdhd, valentines day fic, mentions of food, friends to lovers

A/N: yall rlly liked my last Michael blurb so I made this kinda similar!! Also the idea of witch! Reader not being tied to the og coven is NOT my idea, others have done it before - I just did it cause it made sense w the music video this fic is based off of ✌🏻. This is mostly me self indulging ngl so if the fic doesnt make sense that's why haha. The v beginning is like Sojourn! Era and then the rest of the fic is somewhere between fire & reign and outpost era. this fic is rlly just me trying to say happy early mf valentines day !! 💖💖 okay bye

February 14th was always a day you dreaded; The idea and concept of a whole fucking holiday being dedicated to just love.. really put a bitter taste in your mouth. In your opinion, it was just a reason for couples to show a disgusting amount of PDA and get away with it.

However; due to a incredibly corny and cliché situation you found yourself in; you now were seeing the incoming holiday in a different light. When you thought of the holiday.. You first thought of Michael. Michael Langdon.

Meeting Michael at all was a complete accident - You met months ago in fall; on a dark cloudy night. Every detail from that evening was etched and woven into your mind as if it had just happened yesterday; and you could only hope that it would remain that way forever. After all; that was the night when you had met your favorite person. You even remembered the weather.. The bitterness of the cold wind making it seem as if it was seconds from storming.

You were part of a small coven which was meeting due to a full moon, it was a rather mundane and basic ritual you were preforming. One of which you had preformed more times you could even count on your fingers.. However; what made that ritual special is that your coven happened to be recruiting.

Full black outfits, including thin, long cloaks is what everyone wore to the occasion.. After everything was over and done with; you went to leave - the bitter coldness of the night urging you to leave rather quickly.

However; something.. almost a invisible force made you stop walking away from the crowd and made you physically stop. You slowly stopped walking; and turned around. You sharply gasped when you saw a figure directly in front of you - wearing a dark ensemble that matched yours nearly identically.

Immediately you grew weary. A sharp, nauseated feeling started to manifest inside of you.

"Were you following me"? You spoke with your voice raised, your hands which previously fell loosely at your side were starting to curl into fists.

You could feel yourself getting defensive. You quickly flicked your eyes over at the other coven members - making sure you weren't causing a scene; not wanting to draw attention to the situation until it grew necessary.

"Yes, but.. look. I just wanted to talk to you.. away from the others". The boy stated.

You bit your lip to suppress a groan. You rolled your eyes, not really caring that he could see how bothered you were.

"Fine. But c'mon, make it quick". You said, not trying to hide the irritation in your voice.

You turned around and walked a few feet away from the crowd, not looking back but merely expecting him to follow you. You were expecting he was just another newbie with dumb questions, or needed clarification on something.

You turned to talk to him, and that's when you noticed something you about him you seemed to overlook earlier - his beauty. You were completely taken aback and breath taken. Light blue eyes met your gaze as you stared blankly at him; momentarily stunned. He looked beyond ethereal; his pale cheeks flushed a light pink from the cold and his blonde hair looked as if it could be spun from gold. It was almost like he could sense how you were suddenly taken aback.. A smug smirk played on his lips; if you didn't know any better you would say he almost seemed cocky.

"There's something about you that's different from the others. I could sense it". He stated.

"How"? You stuttered.

You watched as he took a couple steps toward you and in one quick swoop, pushed the hood of his cloak fully back. He got even closer but you didn't dare move. You watched him curiously as he turned to the side, pushing his blonde locks of hair out of the way to show you something behind his ear.. Your blood instantly went cold once you saw three sixes; however you weren't scared. In fact you were really the first person that Michael met that didn't practically faint when they saw his mark. Looking back; you supposed that's why you and Michael bonded so quickly and became so close.

It didn't take long for him after that to confine in you that people either avoided him or became obsessed once they knew; both reactions ultimately stemming from fear. You were the first person to look past that and to just see him as a actual human being - not just a vessel for some fucked up prophecy to play out.

Even though Michael's beauty was undeniable to you; the relationship you two had was strictly platonic.. and in the past that was never something that bothered you. You supposed that he was tired of people throwing themselves at his feet and what he really needed more than anything was a friend - so you chose to be that for him, not daring to try and test the boundaries your relationship had.

However; the boundaries were seemingly starting to come down naturally - because your relationship wasnt entirely platonic anymore. Things between you two weren't exactly black and white as they used to be; a great example of this, was how you two were planning on spending Valentines Day together.

You and Michael agreed to spend it as friends. Neither of you had a date and spending Valentines alone when you had Michael seemed redundant.. and honestly just boring. Instead of making Valentines day an all day event; it started for you two as a 'date' at 6 pm.

In order to avoid having to confront putting a label on your.. situationship, the venue for your lavish Valentines date was at a more.. private venue. He only gave you a address and instructions, you didn't really know what exactly to expect but you knew you weren't going to his house. It was somewhere new.

It was nearly six pm, the sun had just set - leaving the sky a shade somewhere between navy blue and pure black. The air was cold on your skin as you stepped out of the car, wondering where the hell you even were.

The area you found yourself in was completely bare and void of any trees, the only object or building you saw was a giant, black, metal structure. The instructions Michael gave you had told you about this but.. seeing it in person was merely jarring, oddly unsettling. You approached it, trying to ignore the nerves and anxiety you could feel creeping in.

You couldn't help but wonder what the hell this place was and why out of all the places you two could have a 'date', it would have to be here?

As you stood in front of an elevator - stepping in, you felt very reluctant to do so. It definitely felt a bit weird that Michael wanted to meet you in such a secluded place but.. he was your best friend. He would never hurt you.. especially on valentines day.. Right?

The doors opened and you slowly stepped out, immediately taken back. You were now in a oval room, with a long hallway stretching out. You first quickly scanned your surroundings for Michael but, he wasnt here. Not in your line of vision anyway. You nearly forgot you were here for Michael at all for a second. The interior was breathtaking; resembling a old, Victorian style mansion. Even though you were still utterly confused; Michaels reasoning for choosing this venue was starting to become more clear to you.

It was the cozy, romantic vibe the 'house' seemed to radiate. The dim lighting also amplified this affect; seemingly giving everything in sight a subtle golden glow, otherwise everything remained relatively dark. You walked through the building; down hallways, looking for any sounds of life at all. Your witchy senses didn't always work on Michael, so you didn't even bother to try to use those. He was right about how you were powerful but, his powers still outshone yours unfortunately.

You finally heard something, something faint; soft music playing distantly in the background. You followed it swiftly, the music getting louder and louder until you found him - in what appeared to be the library.

The room was immense; books were lined on shelves that bordered the room. Couches, along with a decent sized fireplace and chandelier - and of course a record player, also resided in the library. Playing a tune that sounded similar but you couldn't quite remember what it was.. whatever it was, it sounded old and romantic - maybe from the 50s.

"Your not very good at hiding, you know. The music was a dead giveaway". You commented playfully.

Michael greeted you with a smirk, obviously holding back laughter. He stood up from one of the couches; approaching you. He looked incredibly handsome in the normal black ensemble he was wore but tonight he sported a long black coat. Making you fondly nostalgic of the night you two met.

He got dangerously close to you, almost in your face but you weren't intimidated. Plus, you knew he wasnt trying to actually intimidate you. Michael being the way he was; you knew he wouldn't have asked you to spend Valentines with him if he didn't tolerate you in some way.

"Its a good thing I wasnt trying to hide then, is it"? He spoke; his eyes pierced into yours.

The direct eye contact was starting to get unnerving and so was the.. apparent tension. You took a step back, looking away and laughing awkwardly - trying to remind yourself you two were strictly friends. Best friends, in fact. Nothing more.. and nothing less.

"So.. what even is this place? You don't own this or something.. do you"? You asked, slyly changing the topic.

"Actually I do. It's being saved for something I have in the works; but nothing's official yet. I wanted to get your opinion though.. what do you think"? Michael asked.

Even though you absolutely loved, whatever the hell this place even was, something.. felt off. Perhaps it was the fact it was completely secluded and private. Too private. You knew Michael was into some weird shit with the Satanists but; you figured he would atleast tell you by now if he was planning on something big with them.. Something that would require a huge fucking mansion underground.

"This place is beautiful, Michael. But what is it for"?

"Your too eager for your own good, (y/n). You will know in due time, I promise; but for now.. come sit with me".

He gently grabbed your wrist and guided you over to one of the bare, black couches; you followed - sitting next to him.

The hours continuing were filled with incredibly cheesy gestures that you only rolled your eyes at, and teased him for. The first being a few small, pink flowers he had conjured up and then tucked into your hair. At first you really thought nothing of it, they were just pretty flowers. However; you knew due to Michael's nature that he didn't just so happen to come across those flowers, he summoned them purposefully - specifically for you.. You didn't bother to try and hide how flustered this made you.

"Those are beautiful; what are they"? You asked, gesturing to the flowers.

"Thought you'd never ask. Wild roses. They hold many meanings; most agree they represent both love, suffering, beauty.. life. They're even said to protect the living from the dead".

You couldn't help but to laugh at his explanation.

"Will they protect me from you? You know your not exactly human yourself". You teased.

The corner of Michael's lips slid into a slow smile, one that you couldn't quite decipher whether it was an ironic or genuine gesture.

You nearly jumped at how quickly one of Michael's hands suddenly slid up into your hair; seemingly picking out one of the petals that had fallen from one of the flowers - he retracted his hand, holding onto the petal.

"No. Your going to need something stronger than that to keep me away". He said playfully, before crushing the already wilted petal in his hand - letting it fall carelessly to ground.

You could only roll your eyes.

Next came the food and well.. you were beyond impressed. Your not certain exactly how he managed to get your favorite food down who knows how many feet underground, but.. he did. And it was perfect.

You were both pretty quiet during that time; Michael didn't really have a reason to be but you couldn't help but to get lost within your thoughts. Sure; you two were best friends but.. that didn't necessarily warrant him to do all of this for you. Was it possible that he felt.. something else, like you did?

You couldn't help but to shut that thought down as quick as it came; that had to just be you projecting. There was no way in hell he could love you back..

Wait.. love?

It was like a involuntary reflex the way you suddenly jolted up and backed away from the table. Even though it was just a thought, the fact you just admitted to yourself that you loved him.. What the fuck did that even mean?

Michael looked startled at well, you could tell by the color of his knuckles that he now had a death grip on his silverware. His icy, blue eyes matched yours with a startled gaze.. As if he was trying to contemplate your next move or to get a good read on you. You were more than well acquainted with Michael's powers by now; you knew how he had the ability to read minds and that's partially why you found yourself, slowly at first, starting to take steps away from him. Wanting desperately to get the fuck away from him. You knew that if Michael even suspected what you were thinking or how you felt, that your friendship could possibly be over. That would be it, he would want absolutely nothing to do with you. You would be no better than the dozens of women and even men that threw themselves at Michael; Maybe even worse.

You made it down a random hallway until you found yourself physically colliding into him - fucking transmutation.

You felt a sudden urge to just turn around to try and escape again but you knew he wouldn't let you. Instead you let yourself be captive, you let him hold you. Gently encasing you into a hug. It was painful how hard you were trying to hold back your tears - blindly running away was already embarrassing enough, letting him see you cry would be too much.. Too much for one night, anyways. You felt him let go of you - stepping back a little bit in order to make eye contact with you.

"What has gotten into you-" He started.

"Michael- I'm so sorry but I just need to go. We can talk about this tomorrow but for now I just really need to be alone-"

You tried to turn around in order to make another (more calm) attempt at leaving but you felt something grab at your wrist, yet again. His grasp, along with his hand were achingly soft. You hated how much you enjoyed him making physical contact with you - even if it was something just as docile as this. You also couldn't help but to hate the spark of electricity you felt when his skin touched yours - and you couldn't help but to wonder whether he felt it too.

"No. I need to know what I did wrong. I'm not letting us end today like this". Michael said, his voice was strained with emotion.

His words were spoken urgently, his voice unsteady and even threatening to break.. That's when you knew you completely fucked up. He totally misinterpreted your actions.. the sudden realization hit you, piercing your heart like a knife.

"No, your right. Can we sit"? You asked.

He let go of your wrist coldly, sauntering out of the hallway you two were in. You would be lying if you were to admit that his sudden cold actions didn't hurt you; it definitely stung but you couldn't help to feel in this moment that you kind of deserved it.

The walk over was quiet and even a bit awkward. When you two sat; he looked at you expectedly.. waiting for you to talk first and explain your sudden, impulsive actions.

"It wasnt you.. that's not why I tried to leave at all, Michael. You did everything right. I mean that's really the 'problem', even though calling it a problem still isn't the right word but.." You paused before carrying on.

"What you did tonight for me was perfect, and I'm so thankful for that, truly. But I just feel like I'm starting to interpret your actions in a different way than in which you mean them and that's not fair to you. I know you just want a friend-" Your words continuously came out faster the longer you spoke, you were completely rambling at this point but Michael stopped you.

"Hey, stop". He said softly.

You felt as if you were dreaming when you saw him start to move closer to you.. it happened so quickly it almost felt fake. Michael gently pushed you back onto the couch, so that you were basically laying down flat on your back. You pulled him back with you so that he was on top, your hands automatically going to his shoulders.. feeling the sudden urge to yank his black top off and to feel his skin under your palms. The feeling was tempting; you could feel how hot his skin was even with his shirt on. You assumed your hands were cold by the way Michael shivered and even groaned when you touched him, that had to be the only logical explanation for him acting like that..

The manner in which he bent down, his lips getting closer and closer to yours was nothing but diabolic. He stopped until the point where his lips were just ghosting above yours - maybe only really a mere centimeter away from touching. It felt entirely far too tempting to just - barely tilt your head forward and stop whatever game your friend Langdon was trying to play, but.. you didnt. In reality; the teasing was far too delicious for you to want it to end so soon.

"Who said I just wanted to be friends"? He whispered.

You could taste his breath as he spoke, you felt trapped.. But if you were to be honest with yourself, you wouldn't rather spend Valentines Day any other way than in this manner.. Trapped with your absolute favorite person, with nothing else in the world to do but to get lost in each other.

His lips roughly collided with yours with such passion that you really haven't ever felt before. It threw you off guard for a moment, but you figured there was no sense in shying from it. You had been craving to be loved by him for so long; craving for him to touch you like this and now that it was finally happening.. you only relaxed and embraced the feeling.

Time slipped away from you far too quickly but after all; time didn't really feel real at all when you were underground in a bunker. No windows or clocks to help ground you back into reality..

You knew it was atleast passed midnight now; hours had passed and you two were now residing in one of the random rooms that you had come to learn was of 'Outpost Three'. It was apparent how careful he was with his words when he told you about the place; almost like he didn't want to tell you too much. He told you most of everything, like the cooperative and how this building was for some type of event that would be taking place in the summer but you didn't probe farther. You knew he would tell you in all due time.

You two were lying on a random, spare bed. It was luxurious and dangerously soft, but if you were honest - the sheets almost seemed scratchy in comparison to Michaels bare skin. Your head wasnt on a pillow but instead on Michael's bare chest, his rhythmic heart beat nearly lulling you to sleep. Almost putting you in some type of odd trance.

You both watched the movie that was playing on his laptop; propped up on a few sparse pillows at the end of the bed. Although you really weren't trying to keep up with what was happening or what the actors were even saying. Instead, you chose to be fully present with Michael, almost entranced in his presence. You two weren't talking but, just being surrounded by him - feeling his fingers lazily playing with your hair was heaven to you.

You still felt as if you were in a dream. After all in what timeline would you ever be so lucky to call someone like Michael, yours?? Even though you two weren't exactly official, you really didn't mind at this moment. Labels only seemed to really complicate things and in your opinion; you felt more than privileged to just sit here entangled with Michael, and to escape the rest of reality for a while.

Taglist: @mina672 @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakewaterxx @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon

#michael x reader #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs fanfiction #my fic #i hope yall like this 🥺 its kinda odd i feel like but.. idk. im proud of the ending lmao #will post to ao3 in a few hours or so #lemme know if u would like to be on the taglist #I almost cut out the backstory of how they met but i just feel like it overall adds to the fic??#ALSO the timing of this fic is probably not accurate at all like canon wise loll but idc

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prurientpuddlejumper · 3 years

Text

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 2]

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Continuation of an angsty dark fic request.

Warnings: suicidal thoughts/attempt (I made myself real sad with this one so be warned if you’re vulnerable to negative thinking), NSFW, smut (gender-neutral), unhealthy relationship, depression, neurodivergent reader. Melancholy rambling.

3,200 words

“Don’t worry about what Dr. Chilton thinks,” Nurse Clerval advised as soon as he was out of earshot. “He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah, but”—you tugged the hem of your scrubs—“He’s right. I keep messing up. I think he hates me.” You stopped there, too ashamed to admit you were the biggest fuck-up on the entire staff, new or not, or that you could tell Dr. Chilton regretted his decision to hire you.

“And the rest of us hate him. Just keep doing your job, learn the ropes—he’ll back off.”

You nodded silently and continued your rounds, delivering meds and checking in on patients. Amy had to be restrained again when she wouldn’t stop biting. Julianne seemed more confused lately, though you hadn’t known any of them long enough to tell what was normal.

Clerval’s words hung over you. It didn’t seem right that everyone hated Dr. Chilton. He was a little brusque, yes, but intelligent. Wickedly sarcastic. Posturing and puffing himself up whenever people he admired came to visit the hospital, and he wanted badly to impress them. Lonely.

Your cheeks heated at the thought of those intense bursts of green under his brow—the first thing you noticed when he conducted your interview. His eyes almost matched the light green scrubs you wore at the hospital you trained in, though the uniform here was white (as if leaning into the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest vibe.)

But what drew you in wasn’t that his eyes were beautiful—though they were—it was the way they made contact with yours. Staring you down with fake confidence, as if he were forcing it. That stare must have been off-putting to most people, but it made your spirit leap with that particular spark of connection one only feels when finding a kindred spirit.

“Hey! Still sulking? Hurry it up,” Clerval called, jolting you to attention. You trotted after.

It was nice having a mentor on the staff, but at the same time, it just felt like having another person to eventually disappoint.

“Here! What’s next?” you beamed.

***

Dr. Chilton didn’t back off over the next few weeks as Nurse Clerval suggested. The more you thought you were getting the hang of routines at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, the more mistakes you seemed to make, and the harder its administrator came down on you. And the more the handsome, scarred Dr. Chilton hated you, the more nervous mistakes you made.

In nursing school, you aced everything technical. Every written test. Every memorized statistic, sterilization procedure, medication instruction, and anatomy diagram. But when it came to interacting with patients and families—being compassionate yet professional—nothing came naturally. As a child, you learned how to fake eye contact by staring at the bridge of someone’s nose. How to smile bright and encourage others so they don’t reject you. So they don’t see you as cold or weird. But sometimes, you felt like an alien just parroting human behavior.

The guy you had been dating when you started working at the BSHCI said something similar to you when he broke it off. That you were “unavailable” and never understood what he needed.

There was a reason your first choice job was at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers.

Dr. Frederick Chilton was the same way. Just better at hiding it, or braver about not caring when his mannerisms rubbed people the wrong way. He didn’t fall apart like you did. He was… incredible. As soon as you met him, you knew you wanted the job. His smile was forced but friendly that first day, and you went home dreaming about getting to know him better.

But as soon as you were hired, the friendliness went out of his eyes. On your very first day, you passed him in the hall and smiled. He frowned and informed you that you were five minutes late clocking in. Everything—every forgotten ID card and typo on a patient file—was proof to Dr. Chilton that you were incompetent.

Worthless.

He even pointed it out when you couldn’t stand up for yourself and let Nurse Clerval defend you.

Pathetic.

Why did you ever think someone like him might like you?

He wasn’t an asshole. The constant reprimanding and disciplinary write-ups were no more than you deserved. It just hurt coming from someone you admired and wished things could be different with.

God, you wished just once he would smile at you again. Tell you that you did a good job.

Your fist hovered over the dark mahogany of the carved doors to Dr. Chilton’s office, poised to knock. To tender your resignation. You hadn’t seen the extravagant interior of his office since your interview, but you could imagine him in there: laying back on the leather couch sipping a Scotch, surrounded by tall shelves of medical books and sculpted wall molding. The air filled with the library smell of old paper.

In your imagination, his cold green eyes would soften, and he would ask why you were leaving. Apologize for being so hard on you. The Chilton in your mind clasped your hand, and you both blushed, wondering if the gesture was merely a show of professional support, or if it held a deeper meaning. He clasped tighter instead of dropping your hand, knowing— understanding—the heat behind your gaze.

A dull thud came from inside the office, followed by footsteps and a muttering voice, muffled through the door. The footsteps started heading your way, and you walked briskly down the hall toward the exit, not looking back when a moment later, the mahogany doors creaked open.

Coward.

There was no point quitting, anyway. You would never find another hospital job as slow-paced, where you rarely had to speak with outsiders—only the regular long-term patient-inmates, and a small staff of orderlies, guards, nurses, and psychiatrists.

Sometimes you thought you should quit nursing altogether, but then what would you do? Flip burgers? You’d be bad at that, too. There was nothing you wouldn’t be a failure at.

A fog hovered over you, creeping its tendrils into every thought, turning every tiny setback into the end of the world, and making every success unimportant. Leaving BSHCI wouldn’t make it better. Nothing would make it better. You were the fuck-up. Anywhere you went, the problem would always be you.

Every smile you gave was forced, but you kept smiling as if everything was normal. So long as nobody could see you drowning, it wasn’t real. There was still hope that you could get your shit together, and no one would be the wiser that you were actually a disgusting piece of human trash. So long as you could smile like you were fine, you weren’t a complete failure.

But the more you pretended to be upbeat—pretended to be someone likable—the more you were certain your coworkers didn’t like you. They must have been sick of covering for you by now.

A week later, the nurse you were replacing grunted, “Finally,” as you sprinted through the door three minutes after your shift started. That one unremarkable interaction was the final proof of a theory you had been nursing for a long time:

Everyone’s lives would be easier without you.

That was the final conclusion, the final, creeping thought the suffocating fog wormed into your head. The crescendo of a distorted symphony that had been subtly building to this from the beginning.

You couldn’t force yourself to smile anymore.

***

You didn’t have authorized access to the medication supply room, but you swiped a key from Dr. Tenley’s office. For a secure facility, the doctors of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane were lax about locking their own offices. She would notice it was missing by Monday morning, and there would be serious repercussions for stealing it, but you weren’t concerned. You wouldn’t be around to face them.

With the high-potency drugs available in a hospital and a working knowledge of pharmacology, ending a life could be quick and relatively painless.

The key clicked in the door. You glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one was coming. But the coast was clear.

A halfhearted breath puffed from your nose. Part of you wanted to find it funny how easy this was, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

You stealthily opened the windowless metal door, stepped inside, and shut and locked it behind you without making a sound. Once inside the small room, you let out a silent sigh of relief (or despair). Only a handful of people had a key, so you were unlikely to be interrupted, especially at night with only a skeleton staff on duty.

There were three rows of tall storage shelves crammed into the walk-in closet with clean tile in the few places wall was exposed. The whir of a climate-control system drowned out the pulse in your ears as you scanned for the drugs you were looking for.

You found them faster than expected. They could have at least been hidden. The universe could have put a few more obstacles in your path, but instead, the universe was giving you a big fat sign it wanted you dead.

You picked up the packaging. Turned it over in your hand.

Just a handful of these, and all the problems you cause would be over. No more reprimands. No more disappointing everyone you meet. No more wrenching in your gut every time Dr. Chilton looks at you with contempt when you long to see a smile. No more trying so hard every minute of every day.

It wasn’t like too many people would be sad you were gone anyway. Most of them will be relieved.

Your eyes stung.

Wasn’t someone going to walk in and stop you?

Your lip trembled. Why would anyone want to stop you?

Tears rolled down your face as the reality of your plan set in. Survival instinct kicked and clawed at the cloying fog of twisted logic that promised you would be helping everyone if you stopped existing, but it was losing the battle.

And then you heard someone call your name.

You sniffed and looked up. No… not someone calling your name. Moaning it. You crept to the last row of shelves at the back and gasped—Dr. Chilton had his laptop tucked onto a shelf and was watching a clip of security feed on loop. His red, glistening erection thick in his hand as he masturbated, whimpering your name over and over.

You watched silently—he was so engrossed he didn’t notice your shadow falling over the aisle. It was only when the package of drugs slipped from your hand and clattered on the floor that he jumped with a shriek, covering himself, though his massive erection was still conspicuous in his pants. His eyes bugged out at you, face red with embarrassment—but then they quickly narrowed to anger.

“What are you doing in here? You are not authorized to be in this room,” he barked.

All you could think about was what you heard—the name gasping from his lips. It overpowered every other thought. “Were you… imagining me?”

His nostrils flared. He hastily shut the laptop which was looping security footage of you outside his office door.

Then he laughed—forced and cruel. “What I imagine is not your concern. Do not read into it. I have never shown you special treatment, have I? Do you think that I could have feelings for an incompetent nurse?”

“I know that!” Your lip trembled again now that the briefest spark of hope you had was shattered. Of course he didn’t like you. He was just a pervert who jacked off to all the nurses. “Don’t you think I know that I’m worthless? You’ve made it abundantly clear.”

Fresh tears rolled down your cheeks, and Chilton’s eyes softened, as if for the first time realizing that all his attempts to hurt you had succeeded. You were hurt. And he did not enjoy it as much as he thought.

“You are not worthless,” he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked down to the floor, at the medication you dropped. He picked it up, read what it was. His expression fell. “What were you doing in here, nurse?” he swallowed.

“Nothing. I just… needed something for a patient.”

“Lie,” he said.

You looked away. Everything was numb. It barely even occurred to you that someone stopped you after all. A handsome, awkward, cruel doctor you admired was in the same room with you and had said his first kind words since the day you met.

He took a slow step toward you. Then another. His hand—slender and surprisingly large—pressed your arm in an attempt at a comforting gesture. An alien parroting human behavior.

“You are not worthless. I assure you, none of your mistakes have been grievous. You are certainly not the least competent of my staff. Far from it. So don’t…” He swallowed. “…Do not do anything rash.”

“Sure,” you scoffed. “Then why am I the one you’re always reprimanding? The one always being called to your office?” You knew what he thought of you; he was just trying to talk you down.

“That…” he began in a broken voice, “That must be painfully obvious now.”

Your eyes peeled away from the floor and found his face, and the storm of emotions flashing over it. Shame. Trepidation. A faint light of hope.

“You like me?” Your voice sounded far away. The analytical part of your brain was whirring away above the swamp of depression bogging you down with lies that nobody could like you. But it made sense. As the words spilled from your mouth, it was like a veil lifted.

Pulling pigtails. He was pulling your pigtails because he liked you. A middle-aged psychiatrist ought to have more emotional maturity handling a crush than a third-grader, but there was a reason he worked at a hospital where the only patients were mentally ill murderers. There was a reason his staff hated him. Why he was lonely, and why you desperately wanted to be the one to fill the empty space by his side.

Frederick Chilton was a lot like you.

You could understand each other and be less alone in this world, together.

***

His eyes were closed and he was muttering something self-flagellating and vaguely apologetic when the kinetic sense of you moving closer caused Frederick Chilton to look up.

No longer out at arm’s distance, you were within each other’s breathing space. And now, he was genuinely terrified—terrified you were going to return his feelings. Of the joy it might bring crashing down on him like an airplane. He read something he never expected to see in your body language, and it shook him deeper than being walked in on with his cock in his hands.

You should have reported him for ethics violations.

If you made the case to the hospital board that he created a hostile work environment because he wanted you sexually, he would lose his job and do everybody a favor.

But this—the intention in your body—this was the farthest thing from what he deserved. You confirmed his fear when your soft, perfect lips melded against his. Yet, as always when he knew a thing was wrong, he did not push you away. Did nothing to stop you. He let you deepen the kiss slowly, and you were warm, the taste of you sweeter than he imagined in all his lonely nights of fantasizing.

His cock twitched, your closeness awakening his urges again. He moaned as your lips parted, his lips parting with them, and your tongue gently probed inside. You were tentative at first, investigating only the nearest reaches of his inner lips, and then his hand spasmed on your arm, and with a low growl, he pulled your closer—then you became ravenous. All the turbulent emotions churning within you broke free in that kiss. You sobbed into his mouth, your tongue, hot and fervent, explored and assaulted the depths of him, your hands weaving into the hair behind his neck, and he could taste your salt. It was all his tongue could do to keep up—to let himself be consumed.

Dear god, if only that passion would have ended him then and there. The moment your lips met his in an unexpected act of reciprocation was the fulfillment of every want, every tattered and twisted hope—the highest delight a man such as him could achieve. And he knew—rightly so—that all that could follow was suffering of his own design.

Dear god, let me die before I see this in ruins. Let me die with my happiness.

***

The sex wasn’t all that good. But then again, you had gone into that supply closet intending to never come out, so overall, being fucked by the man you had been pining for was a positive turn of events.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Dr. Chilton, pressed against a cold tile wall. A hungry kiss led to his clothed erection pushing against your thigh, led to you unbuckling his belt.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispered hoarsely, nervous eyes darkened with lust—and you nodded, sliding down your scrub pants, which stuck on your sneakers, hobbling your ankles. He was in too much of a rush to let you take them off—he only opened up his slacks and pulled his cock out of the fly of his briefs. And then he was thrusting into you from behind—frantic, desperate. Your ankles being bound only added to the thrill of him being in control. Dr. Chilton wanted you after all—fantasized about you—and now he was taking you, and all you had to do was surrender to his desire.

His breathy moans rose with each snap of his hips, his hands traveling up your chest under your shirt, fingers curling around your neck, possessing you. Touching every inch of skin he could get his hands on. And that noise that saved your life, your name on his lips, he chanted in your ear.

He was fast—hips racing as if this were his only chance, and if he waited, you would disappear—and he finished fast. You didn’t spend long with your face pressed to the cold tile when his moans broke into a shattered scream, and his head slumped, sweaty, against your back.

Then he turned you around to face him and got on his knees. Heedless of his own mess that he’d left sticky and bitter inside you, he pumped his fingers into you and sucked like he was fulfilling a duty. Clinical about the task, and efficient. It didn’t take him long to bring your arousal to a climax in his mouth.

After, he was quiet. When you had cleaned up, he looked at you like you were a mistake… only you weren’t certain what kind of mistake. If you reached out to reassure him, would he jerk away and tell you to never speak of this again?

“Was it… all you expected?” you asked robotically. Your arm crossed your body, hugging yourself.

And then he kissed you again, softly. He ran his fingers over your hair and pulled back just far enough to study your face. His eyes were wet, clouded with a million thoughts and regrets you would only learn about later.

“You are perfect,” he whispered.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Since I went some places this chapter... Please don’t bottle up your feelings if they’re telling you horrible things about yourself. They aren’t true, I promise. You matter. ❤️

Call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

Online chat: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/chat/

Help via Text: https://www.crisistextline.org/ (Text HOME to 741741)

List of additional resources: https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/suicide-resource-guide

Tags:

@beccabarba / @itsjustmyfantasyroom / @thatesqcrush / @dianilaws / @permanentlydizzy / @mrsrafaelbarba / @madamsnape921 / @astrangegirlsmind / @neely1177 / @onerestein / @dreamlover31 / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes / @barbasimp / @storiesofsvu / @welcometothemxdhouse / @feedthemadness-sweetie / @law-nerd105 / @amelia-song-pond / @michael-rooker / @xecq

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #dark fic #angst #This was supposed to be a oneshot! *sobbing* A oneshot!!!#my writing

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Party Jitters

Pairing: Bakugou x anxious reader

Warnings: SWORE (also some anxiety but it’s not too intense. Maybe a bit of bullying, but it’s not really directly to y/n)

Author’s Note:

So this is the first request I’ve ever completed (🎉✨✨🎇) and I’m pretty proud of it! I started out having this go in a completely different direction and I got pretty far along until I decided it wasn’t really the vibe I was going for, so I stopped and started over. I might post the original later (either I’ll finish it up or just as the wip it is) but idk. Tell me if you want it, I guess? Idk, I might just post it anyway bc I do that sometimes.

Anyway, huge thank you to @bozowrites for sending in this request! I hope it fit something along the lines of what you were thinking!

Enjoy!

-Sugar

⋘ ────────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ───────── ⋙

Oh, if only you knew how you had gotten yourself into this situation now

Except you did know, and it was all your own damn fault

You hated parties. You knew you hated parties; but in a moment of unjustified courage, you had convinced yourself that it was a good idea to get out there more

A friend from your middle school was throwing a get-together for your previous grade, and you thought it might be nice to see some of the kids you’d grown up with

You’d done yourself up with a different hair style and moderately more formal clothes than you wore normally, even convincing your boyfriend to come along with you

But oh, no. This was not good. The furthest thing from a good idea, if you asked your present self

It was as if only now you remembered that there weren’t many people there that you cared to see

You were at someone’s house, music blaring and lights dimmed

Katsuki had wandered off to get you both an age-appropriate beverage, and now you were standing alone in a corner

You spotted the group of kids who used to throw rude comments at you. To be honest, they were pretty rude to everyone, yet somehow they were still considered popular

That was all a whole year ago. We’re in different schools now, it doesn’t matter

Nevertheless, it felt like they wouldn’t stop looking over at you. You swore that one of the girls leaning over to whisper something in her friend’s ear was without a doubt talking about you

What could be wrong with you? You smoothed your top, wondering if you’d somehow magically changed into something else; something out of place and stupid

It felt like any minute they would come over and try to talk to you, even though you’d barely talked to anyone at all the entire time you were here

You felt like an outsider, which was ridiculous, since this was your old class

But no, there it was; the sick, nauseous feeling you were all too unpleasantly acquainted with

You wanted to run, but you’d made all the effort to come here. Where was Bakugou? You couldn’t ditch him

You tapped your fingers against your thigh to the rhythm of the music; a song you’d never heard before

This had been a mistake; a bad idea, and now your throat was starting to close up, the distant beginnings of tears prickling in the corners of your eyes

“Oi.”

Your eyes snapped up from the floor, fearing the worst for a moment

Theywerehere, theywouldtalktoyou, theywouldteaseyou—

Bakugou stood next to you, holding two cups of lemonade

“Here.” He handed you the plastic drink container, and you took it with shaking hands

“Something wrong?” Katsuki asked, noticing

You went to shake your head, but finally thought better of it

“I don’t think I want to be here,” you admitted, sipping at your overly sugary drink

Bakugou scanned your face, setting his cup down on the floor next to the wall beside him

“Did something happen?” he asked, cupping your face in one of his large, strong hands

“No, I just . . . I’m sorry I dragged you here. This isn’t what I thought it would be.”

Bakugou shrugged, pulling you closer into him. “I’m glad I came. Otherwise you’d be here alone.”

You simply nodded, taking a deep breath to right yourself. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

Katsuki slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Wanna get going?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll take you to my place and we can watch a movie or something. This party’s lame anyway.”

You chuckled. “That’s not very nice.”

“It’s the truth. Now let’s go.”

He pulled you to the center of the room, nearing the crowd of popular kids you’d been watching before

“Hey, is that Bakugou Katsuki?”

“The slime monster kid?”

“No, the one from the sports festival.”

“Same person, dipshit.”

Your boyfriend froze at the sound of his name, slowly turning to glare at your former peers

“What about me?” he questioned, gruff voice easily heard over the sound of the music

“Just wondering what you were doing here,” one of the girls said, giving him an overly pretty and practiced smile. “You didn’t go to this school.”

“No, I didn’t, but I’m leaving your dumb party anyway.”

He started to walk off again, but that was when they spotted you behind him

“(Y/N)?!”

“Did you bring him here?”

“Is he supposed to be your boyfriend or something?”

You swallowed heavily, averting your eyes and walking faster, only to bump into Katsuki’s back

He had stilled in his path, a shadow crossing his eyes. You knew that look, that dangerous expression on his face. Bakugou was little more than a ticking time bomb, and your former classmates had just set him off

He slowly turned again to face them, and you could feel the palm clutching yours growing hotter in its grasp

“Have a problem with her? Or do you have a problem with me?” he asked, voice too low, too quiet

The same girl scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s just that someone like her? With someone like you? You know what I mean, right guys?”

She snickered, turning back to her friends, who had now turned their full attention to the both of you

You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen Katsuki so angry, which was saying a lot, since he was outraged about something nearly all the time

Trying to prevent him from doing something he’d regret, you tugged at his shirtsleeve

He glanced back at you, face softening the tiniest of fractions

Balling his opposite fist, he walked back to the girl who’d called him out, pointing a finger in her face

“(Y/N) is my girlfriend and I love her, got it? I don’t need the opinions of shitty extras like you on my goddamn relationship. Just get the fuck out of my way and don’t talk to us again.”

With that, he went back to walking out, pulling you behind him in tow. He easily cleared a path for the both of you, yelling when someone wouldn’t move out of the way fast enough

When you were finally outside, he started walking you to the train station so he could take you home

“Don’t listen to those extras,” he finally said. Bakugou slowed down his pace and relaxed his grip on your hand, letting you settle comfortably into step beside him

“We do make quite the couple,” you remarked

He looked over at you, letting his face fall into the smallest of smiles. “Maybe tonight was kind of a shitshow, but you best believe that it won’t last.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m the best boyfriend there ever was, and I know how to show my girlfriend a good time.”

You grinned, hugging him from the side as you walked. “You most certainly are.” Maybe it wasn’t always a good idea to inflate the blond’s ego, but you couldn’t help but be forever grateful for how he had impacted your life

When it came down to it, Katsuki would always show how much he cared, whether it was in your defense or simply getting you through a tough day

By the time you’d gotten off the train, all your worries had slipped from your mind, walking hand in hand in the moonlit darkness to spend the night at your boyfriend’s home

⋘ ────────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ───────── ⋙

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @pyrofanatic @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

#bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou bnha #katsuki bakugou bnha #bakugou katsuki bnha #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou scenario #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar scen

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years

Note

huuhuuu~~ fathers day passed already but....how bout the reader (who sees hitoya as their father figure) spending fathers day together with him? but!!! they suddenly both get isekaid/transported into some unknown world/place..!!? (feel free to choose where they landed at :D)

Anon this was SO MUCH FUN to write, so I really hope you enjoy it! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟIf you’d like a sequel then I’d be more than happy to do it!

Hitoya seemed so hard to please, even after all the time you’d spent together. The trouble of picking out a gift for him was an internal battle you struggled with for weeks leading up to father’s day. He had become such a dad-like figure that it only seemed natural. Giving him a gift was not natural. Whiskey was a painfully obvious choice, so it was already out of the question. He wasn’t really a fashion person, even though he rocked the greaser/biker vibe. You’d already gone to countless restaurants together – where Hitoya would insist on paying for the both of you – so it wouldn’t be anything new. What an ordeal.

The morning of the big day, you woke up especially early – too worried to sleep long. In the bright hours of the morning you went out to look for some last minute inspiration. When you were almost at your wits’ end, a delicious smell wafted through the street, and you instantly knew what to do.

Hitoya wasn’t surprised to see you walk into his office (even his employees were used to it), but he was curious about what you were holding behind your back. Some of the tiredness dissolved from his face as you greeted him, and he was happy to take an unofficial break. Not like you would let him work while you were there anyway.

With a beaming smile, you presented the cake to him: “Happy father’s day!”

“It’s not like it’s my birthday, what is this?” Hitoya said with a tired tone, though there was a fond smile on his face. “Hey, don’t pout at me! I – fine.” He set aside the papers he was holding; the clients could wait.

“Wait wait wait wait!” From your pocket you took out a candle and delicately placed it in the centre, then realised you had no matches or lighter on you. “Ah…” Your put your bag on his desk and rummaged through it to no avail.

Wordlessly, Hitoya handed you a lighter. His smirk, however, said a million words. He opened his mouth, likely to do his “There’s only two things I don’t like: blah blah blah and blah blah blah,” spiel, but then changed his mind.

You lit the candle with care, and with a flourish, you held the cake out to him again. “Happy father’s day, Hitoya!”

“You really do act like my kid, hm? I can’t say no to you.” He chuckled and stood up.

As soon as he blew out the candle the room went dark. Pitch-black. The candle had definitely not been the only light source in the room. This was not right and you couldn’t help but let out a little squeak at the sudden darkness. In surprise, your hands fell loose, but there was no sound of cake falling to the floor. The cake just wasn’t in your hands anymore. The weirdness of it all made you whine in discomfort.

“Hey, it’s alright.” His calm tone soothed you more than you thought you needed. “Shit. I don’t need a power outage right now.” He muttered to himself.

“I’m not scared, it just surprised me.” You lied.

“Sure.” There was an audible smile in Hitoya’s voice. “I’ve got my phone here, right on my desk. I – we are at my desk, right?”

“Yep…?” You were positive that that was the case, since you hadn’t dared to move since the lights went out. “Why?”

“Uh.”

You held still for a moment, listening to the room, which was completely silent, save for the whoosh of Hitoya frantically trying to find his desk. It almost made you laugh, how panicked he was getting over a power outage. That laugh came out as another squeak when you felt a hand pat you.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No,” It was only a small prod, however the size of his desk and the fact that you had been standing at opposite sides of it made it impossible for him to have done that. As you thought about this, you also noticed how you started to feel more tiny whooshes of air as Hitoya moved. He must be right next to you. “Did you walk around your desk?”

“No, I just stood up. Hey, come over here.”

Something was really not right. That really not right feeling sat with you, starting with a small headache that travelled down and settled as a pit in your stomach. You shuffled into Hitoya’s arms, and he held you close. That eased your nerves a little. His warm embrace was a sure-fire way to comfort you, no matter what. Your eyes soon adjusted to the dark but there wasn’t much to see. Oh, apart from the room that was most certainly not Hitoya’s office.

The room was just wood panels from floor to ceiling. A long table was various chairs was laid out on one side. It had some papers on it that you weren’t concerned about. On the other side were two beds and a few boxes and crates.

Your stomach turned again and you began to feel faint – this must be bad dream. Surely you just went back to bed after waking up so early, and this was a dream. Hitoya held you closer and knocked your hat off your hat onto the floor.

Since when were you wearing a hat?

You didn’t remember, but you knelt down to pick it up anyway. Your eyes couldn’t see the detail of it well enough but the shape of it felt funny, not like a hat you’d normally find.

You took a few breaths, feeling the pit in your stomach sway from side to side. Hitoya found you again and put one hand on your shoulder, checking how you were doing. You told him about the swaying feeling, and he told you he felt it too. In that moment you figured out that it wasn’t your stomach at all. The room itself was swaying from side to side and back and forth and in direction that a room shouldn’t be swaying. A room shouldn’t be swaying at all. A room on solid ground, at least.

You inhaled deeply a few times, concentrating on the flow of your breath – something Hitoya had told you to do when you were feeling nervous.

He noticed this: “Are you okay? Do you have your phone on you?”

Back in his office, your phone was in your bag. On his desk.

“Nope.” You took some more breaths. The air was salty. A loud creak from close by interrupted your thoughts. “Nope nope nope!”

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m here. I think there’s a door over there. Let’s try moving somewhere, okay? Can you do that?” Hitoya was just as nervous as you were, judging from the shaking of his voice. But, like always, he pushed it aside.

“Yeah, okay.”

You held his hand and followed behind him as Hitoya went to the doorway he saw. Turns out, it lead to a short staircase with a hatch above it. Sunlight was peeking through gaps in the wood panels. You squinted, preparing your eyes for a burst of light. With nowhere to go but up, Hitoya opened it and stepped out onto… wherever you were. You heard him gasp and call you up quickly. As you suspected, it was bright.

What you didn’t expect, was the intense wind. The salt of the air was more intense up here. On any other day it would be refreshing but now it was like a slap to the face. Tiny specks of icy rain poked your face. As your eyes had to adjust again, you took a second to conclude that you were outside.

The floor was wood panelling again, with railings around it, after that was just water. The vast expanse was not a deep blue, but something like a deep wine colour. The sky above it was orange, with flecks of pink and red reflecting off rolling clouds; the sun was peeking over the horizon, though you didn’t know if it was rising or setting. Light from the sun bounced off each wave and roll of the water, making it look like an upside down night sky. You could see a large wheel at one side and oh my god this is a boat. You’re on a boat.

“This is a fucking boat?!” Hitoya exclaimed exactly what you were thinking.

“Why?” You asked rhetorically. The splash of waves against the boat drowned out any explanations you could try thinking of. “I don’t understand. I just wanted to give you a cake.” An especially harsh gust of wind knocked you off your feet. Hitoya instinctually caught you before you could hit the ground, and set you back on your feet, with a few pats on the head for good measure.

It was all too much. You sniffled as a few fear tears threatened to spill over.

“Hey, it’s alright, this is a bad dream, its fine,” Hitoya repeated over and over until you weren’t sure if he was actually saying it or if it was echoing in your head.

The cake was a nice idea, but you would give anything to wake up again in your bed, early on that father’s day morning.

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hitoya amaguni #reader insert #mystery prompts #bad ass temple

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aceofspadegrass · 3 years

Note

Can you maybe make a fic of just me and Niragi chilling and hangin out together at the beach?,just Niragi being calm for just one day.

(Of course his lynx and Fanta has to be there...and Dori)

And then Niragi would question things such as "Can I see your hair?" And I would say "No,only girls and family relatives can see it" "Why aren't men aloud to see your hair?" "Because,they will judge on just by or appearance and not our personality" "So does that mean,Kuina,Ann and Mira can see your hair?" "Yes,yes they can. We even has a girls sleepover party at Kuina's room that day with Ace and Chloe" And Dori dressing up as a women is like "A-and I'm not invited!?" "Dori,you're a boy..a grown man dressing up as smexy lady-"

A Chat with Ila

Characters: @a-simp-20, Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada

Genre: Fluff. Just @a-simp-20 vibing with Dori and Niragi and talking about hijabs! :D

1.4k words

Hehe, sorry I finally got around to this! I was taking a little fanfic break after posting 6 fics in a row, you understand right? (I say break as if it hasn’t even been a week pfft-)

I’m going to try my best to incorporate your culture, okay? Okay. :D I hope you like it @a-simp-20! Here, have this nice picture as well. (Sorry for tagging you three times in a row-)

It was late into the day, and wandering about the Beach was a group. It consisted of two men, a lady, and two animals, happily chatting amongst each other about normal topics, like how soft pillows were and the legality of eating fried crickets as a snack.

Which, by the way, was completely legal in certain cultures.

Fanta was happily trotting besides Dori, who was more focused on trying to paint his nails with clear polish on the move, humming a song. On the other side of him was Catra, the lynx wearing a rubber duck on her head for the sheer fun of it. Said rubber duck had a tiny felt cap on it, tiny lettering spelling the word ‘Chicken’ in Hiragana.

People naturally got out of the way upon seeing Niragi, but Niragi wasn’t even paying attention to them, knowing full well his sheer presence was enough to cause a reaction. That way he could focus on talking to Ila about totally normal human endeavours.

“ Have you ever sat in a bath in the dark with a little bit of light? It’s actually really soothing as long as you’re not scared of the dark, and it’s really quiet too!” Ila chirps, walking besides the bottle of black tea, Niragi shrugging. He’s never really had the time for himself for something like that. It sounded amazing though, and maybe when he had the time he would do it, even using scented candles and even bath salts. Ila smiles up at him. “ Aww, you really should, you look like you need one!”

“ Wh- Hey! What does that supposed to mean?!” Niragi accuses as he looks down at Ila, who smiles at him.

“ It’s really nice, that’s all! Especially here, where there’s so much violence going on, there needs to be a time to relax and ease your stress!”

Niragi just squints at her, then leaves it be. Ila had good intentions, so he just continues onwards, Dori humming behind Niragi and Ila.

“ If you want to, Niragi, I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to borrow some of my bath salts! They’re some of my favourites, but don’t expect them to smell like anything. I prefer the unscented ones.” Dori offers Niragi, who just waves off his doppelgänger as they approach the TV room. The group enters, Fanta and Catra hopping onto the couch and claiming it as their own until Niragi shooed them off to sit on the ground instead. Fanta was a lot more nicer about that, Catra baring her teeth a little at Niragi, the overcooked barbecue giving her the disappointed dad look complete with his hand on his hip until Catra finally complied, Ila taking a seat right where the cat was previously, Dori taking the other side of the couch. That left Niragi to the middle, but he doesn’t take a seat just yet, heading over to the DVD case to pick out a movie for them to pass the time with. He pulls out a random case, squinting at the cover.

“ Hey, Sakurada. Why the hell are you on this?” Niragi holds the case up and looks to Sakurada. Sakurada comes over and peers at the case, gasping a little in recognition.

“ Oh! That’s Orange! It’s actually really good!” Dori smiles happily at seeing his face on the cover, even if it was really small. Niragi hums, looking at the cover. He points to the main characters on the cover, squinting at it.

“ The fuck, why are these two on here-“

“ Hm? Oh, that’s just Yamazaki and Tsuchiya! They’re actors as well! I kind of hope they’re alright, I haven’t seen them around lately-“

“ How many of you clone fuckers are out there-“

“ Well technically-“

Niragi holds a hand up, hushing Sakurada. “ Never mind, I don’t care anymore. Let’s just watch this.” Sakurada mutely nods and goes back to sitting on the couch, Fanta hopping back up and splaying his body across Sakurada’s lap, Sakurada chuckling in amusement and giving his dog a few belly tickles. Ila was visibly happy as well, Niragi sliding in the disc and going to sit down as the movie started to run.

Two hours later, and Ila was already talking about the movie and how nice it was, Sakurada nodding along with her as she went on. Niragi remained quiet, admittedly not having paid much attention to the movie or its plot, using it more like background noise and eye candy as he zoned out. He wasn’t really much of a romance drama movie kind of guy anyways, got too mushy for his taste.

Still, no use in spoiling Ila and Sakurada’s joy in the movie. Even Fanta seemed to be joining in on the fun, tail wagging excitedly as he sat there on Sakurada’s lap. Catra had sat at the foot of the couch the entire time, content where she was and occasionally grooming her huge paws and then settling said paws on Niragi’s foot and kneading it. It was a weird experience, but ultimately harmless.

The conversation soon died down, shifting to fashion sense, and Niragi’s attention moves to Ila, more importantly on the hijab on her head. It was actually a pretty salmon colour, and his staring contest with the side of her head went on too long, as his eyes met with a very amused face, Ila blinking and waving a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of it.

“ Is something wrong? Is there like…. lint on my head?”

“ Ah, no- Just wondering why you wear that. I don’t think anyone has seen your hair.” “ Well, men haven’t! That’s kind of the point! I’m a Muslim, and that means women wear these as a sign of modesty.” Niragi tilts his head. Why be modest here? It’s the Borderlands, technically anyone can do whatever they want. Then again, he guesses it applies to wearing it the same way as not wearing it. “ So….. why not?”

“ Well, it’s simple! We want people to not look for appearances and instead look for what’s right here!” She pats her chest, right where the heart was. “ It’s to keep men unrelated to us from seeing something they aren’t allowed to! If you were, for example, to marry a Muslim woman, then she’s allowed to show her hair to you, but only then! Otherwise that’s off limits to you!” Ila explains happily, Niragi slowly nodding and taking in the info.

“ So…. what about the ones that aren’t men?”

“ Then they’re allowed to see my hair! In fact, we, as in Ann, Kuina, Chloe, and Mira have sleepovers over in Kuina’s room! It’s actually really fun! Oh, but immediate male family members are allowed, but that’s it!”

There was a mildly offended gasp from Sakurada, who holds his hand over his heart. “ What? And I’m not invited to them? Even though I look stylish?”

Ila giggles, shaking her head. “ Even if you wear the prettiest dress and the nicest wig, you’re still identified as a male, and can’t be allowed to see my hair, Sakurada! It’s nothing against you, you’re doing great, it’s just how my religion functions between the relationship between men and women! It also means you and Niragi aren’t to touch me, even in a friendly context!” “ Wh- So you’ve never had a hug?” Niragi furrows his eyebrows a little, confused.

“ I have, just not with men.” Ila explains politely, still smiling. “ Being polite and modest is just how we are, that’s all! Of course, some cases of being touched by men are absolutely necessary, like with doctors, but when we can, we highly prefer not to be touched by non-mahram.” Niragi and Sakurada both nod at her words, Fanta barking. Sakurada point to Fanta. “ Does Fanta count?”

“ Well, not really? There’s technically different rules in set for dogs, but that’s for another time.” Ila responds, and gets up with a hum. “ Hey, wanna go see how many plastic ducks we can fit in Chishiya’s room?” Niragi grins, getting up so fast off the couch it almost was like he was ejected from it by a spring and running out the door, Fanta barking and running after him, Sakurada chuckling and getting up at a reasonable pace.

“ Come on, what are you waiting for! Let’s go fuck with the whipped cream pie!” Niragi yells, Ila laughing and following behind him along with the rest of the squad. It was a pleasant evening for some chaos after a nice long chat.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #sakurada dori #niragi deserves a cat #I went ahead and did a bit of research to make sure that it was accurate enough-#this was actually really nice to write not gonna lie-#i don't know your stance on eating fried crickets so I kept it mostly vague-#it really just became a part of talking about muslim culture in a normal conversation #a real teaching moment for them :D #yes I included a sakurada acting career reference just because-#p.s. they got 102 ducks in his room before chishiya noticed-#ask

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quirklessidiot · 3 years

Text

aoba johsai’s sport’s journalist (h/c’s)

just crack+ fluff + platonic-ish relationship (gn!y/n) (w: language!) a/n: this has been bugging me for awhile now since i havent seen headcanons of this yet (if their are do send them on my ask box) and since im on a slump, i decided to write this down. this is completely fun, easy-going, and self-indulgent, really perfect for someone stuck on a slump ksks. idk if i should make some for the other schools but oh welp enjoy! happy 900 btw werkwerk uwu so weird to reach this when im not even very active.

Now let’s be honest here, it’s no surprise that the volleyball team of aoba johsai has their own sports journalist. Like, c’mon, they’re one of the best in the prefecture.

But let’s start with the basics here, shall we? Let’s start with you, how this all goes through, and how you got into this heaping pile of mess.

Yep, you.

There you were in high hopes to get into journalism for college so what better way was it than to apply for the school paper? It would definitely look good and pretty in those college applications *chef’s kiss* you’re a second year btw idk if that matters but yeah..

Much to your surprise no one was applying for the news section which was kind of sad since you wanted a buddy there.

but-but it turns out though everyone was applying for the sports section completely understandable, next to feature, it was the most exciting thing to write because there was going to be a special section and writer for the volleyball team.

You knew that volleyball was kind of a big thing around your school?? you just didn’t expect it to amass like that much people.

The editor in chief is obviously surprised, you were the first person on that day to come in there and actually apply for something else.

and guess where that led you to?

Yep, the sport’s section, specifically the volleyball team’s personal sports journalist. Your brain goes brrt brrt because you were not a sports writer at all and you were, ironically, scared of ball games.

VOLLEYBALL WAS COMPLETELY NEW TERRITORY FOR YOU.

Your editor in chief laughs it off and says, “you’ll do fine… its like news bUT SPORTS! IT’LL DEFINITELY LOOK GOOD IN YOUR APPLICATIONS!”

You’re not sure if you should be terrified or terrified?

It doesn’t help that on the first day when you enter the gym you look terribly constipated and panicking a lot because of all the stray balls being spiked and tossed around.

It also didn’t help that you crash course the terminologies and the member’s name a night before and you were just running on iced coffee that day.

Yeah, way to make a first impression, huh?

When you approach the coach, you’re not exactly sure what to say and you were this close to chickening out until you saw one of the players come up to you and ask if you were alright and if you wanted to talk to oikawa.

you’re loading for a second there.

and the poor guy who asks you if you were alright, starts looking actually worried because you weren’t responding at all.

“OH, oH IS THAT THE CAPTAIN?”

the guy literally looks very confused?? because what kind of rock were you living under that you didn’t know Oikawa???

so you go ahead and introduce yourself and say that your name was Y/N and you were the new sports journalist for the team.

“....soooo you write?”

“...”

at this point on, you’re also confused too

and idk man, first impressions do indeed last because you ended up (unknowingly) sharing the same brain cell with Matsukawa Issei.

you both were just confused there, straight up looking like two kids who got left behind by their mom in the grocery check-out line.

anyways...

He tells you the team’s pretty chill and you should stop looking like they spiked a ball on your puppy or something.

Basically introduces you to the whole team after,

no questions asked, just go with the flow.

You basically just click and vibe???

Not only because you crash coursed and related to whatever they said,

you literally all shared the same brain cell together.

Kentaro was another story though, kid basically hated your guts at first, it felt like if you were to say one sentence to him that day, he’d literally spike a ball at your direction.

“we’re basically the same year tho :(” -Y/N

“lmao well do i’ve got news for you, y/n-chan.” - Oikawa and basically everyone on the team.

you gradually start to understand the coolness of the sport since you had to incorporate visiting them once or twice a week during practice.

but suddenly it becomes almost a daily routine after a month because they’re just really friendly people??

like wow, they’re all friendly giants.

You’re literally just there to write about them but they’re really patient and kind, they even invite you to practice games so that you could practice out your skills in writing since you mentioned that you’ve never written for sports yet.

they even give you some added key terms that aren’t found in books and online.

you’re def closest to iwaizumi and matsukawa.

iwaizumi because he makes really funny fish jokes about oikawa (yes you arent supposed to be laughing but man theyre funny af, oikawa would usually call you and iwa corny because the jokes aren’t even that funny) and yes its canon that whenever iwaizumi sees an oikawa fish in textbooks, he starts laughing and joking about it.

no explanation needed why you ended up being close to matsukawa.

its obvious after that first meeting ya both would be besties.

same brain cell bros go brrt brrt.

incredibly!! supportive!! I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH

like when you release a new write up about them, Oikawa would usually go, “It’s such an honor to be apart of your first steps, can you sign this?”

dramatic but hella supportive, we stan the gr8 king

“oh, wow, i thought you said you didn’t write before? how come you sound like a professional already?” - Hanamaki

another dramatic best boi.

akira + kindaichi getting shy because they’ve never experienced this yet. So whenever you try to interview them about stats or something for a special issue, they usually end up a stuttering mess

“w-well, L/N-san...”

kentaro slowly warming up to you but still looks like he wants to spike a volleyball at your face 90% of the time but unlike before you’re used to his whole thing already.

“Move, extra.”

“You were great, by the way. That was a powerful spike!”

you may or may not be included in random ramen nights with the team

yes, oikawa buys you your own bowl of ramen

itadakimasu.

he doesn’t mind tho, he really loves how you write them.

so its sort of a thank you for giving the team justice when you write about them.

team says you’re technically part of the team so they make you your own jersey. Now when you watch your games people ask if you’re like the manager or smthng.

“ no :’) “

When they lost against shiratorizawa and karasuno, you were bawling too like you were apart of the team.

this pretty much cheered everyone up despite the loss because your crying face was apparently very funny and memable.

oh right, your article was passed on to the town’s newspaper

it was literally like 7 am on a saturday and your notifs went zoop.

they added you to their group chat and spammed you with pictures of the articles that you wrote.

“...wOW I CAN’T BELIEVE IT?? YOU GOT FRONT PAGE FOR SPORTS???” -Oikawa

“we didn’t even win the tournament but we still get a feature?? thats so cool?? holy shit?? CONGRATS KSKSKS” -matsukawa

lmao idk matsukawa looks like a keyboard smasher tbh idk why

pretty much its normal for you to even start hanging out already outside of the court and after practice to get steam buns.

more chaotic mess and clumsy you running around.

your volleyball sports writing experience wouldn’t be complete until someone accidentally spikes a ball at the back of your head amaright?

ironically, it’s yahaba who does that to you. poor smoll bean.

“wow, you’re dumb.” -kentaro says to you

“ :’)” -you.

“y/N-SAN I SWEAR IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.” -yahaba

overall, you found yourself in a safe haven with the volleyball team and yes, you also cried when the third years graduated.

the third years have a picture with everyone on the team + you with a very red face from all the crying?? once again, you’ve proven yourself to be a meme.

continued to write for them up until graduation.

and its def obvious you kept in touch with all of them after, duh.

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu aoba johsai #haikyuu scenarios #aoba johsai x reader #haikyu headcanons #haikyu scenarios

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