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2d-reality · 4 days

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Little Things (The Prince of Demons)

characters: Diavolo, GN!MC navigation: Diavolo | Barbatos | Simeon | Solomon | Luke | Thirteen content/warnings: little things you do, out of love. dateables edition! fluff. could be read as platonic but why would u word count: 862 notes: Alas, Dia is the only one I have finished as of now on account of how my work/life balance has been absolutely wacked recently. I'll get around to the rest eventually, I promise! I have bits and pieces here and there but the dateables don't flow as easy as the boys. Mephis will likely not be included bc I'm not even vaguely familiar with his character, and because we are both horse girls and he is my bitter rival on principle. I stared at this piece a lot but did I edit it? no

Diavolo was a lonely man. He knew a lonely childhood, tucked away in the Demon King’s palace with only the grounds staff as company. He attended lessons alone as he grew up learning what it would take to shoulder his father’s throne once he came of age. When the reigning monarch fell into his dreamless slumber, Diavolo had effectively lost yet another lifeline to anything resembling a normal existence-- a parent. As a young man (or, rather, the demon equivalent of a young man), surrounded by nobility of all kinds vying for his attention, he knew they only saw Diavolo, the Crown Prince. Even the brothers, who were the closest to being considered his friends, played along with his antics out of duty. No doubt Lucifer drilled it into them to be accommodating.

Sometimes he felt as though he was cursed-- paying for his original sin by bearing his existence, at the end of the day, alone.

That was, at least, until you came along. You, so small and fierce and human. You, who upon meeting him at the beginning of your tenure as an exchange student, held his gaze squarely and didn’t back down, even when he could practically smell your fear.

You, who for whatever reason, be it ignorance or sheer, unmitigated gall or something else entirely, didn’t for a moment treat him any differently than any other demon you met. Once you were comfortable living among magical beings, it was as if the floodgates opened. Despite horrified reactions from Lucifer and gentle chiding from Barbatos, you told him when his jokes were stupid (even if you still laughed), slapped his arm companionably when greeting him, and called him by a myriad of silly nicknames.

Your friendship is the most precious thing Diavolo has ever received in his long life. You aren’t one of his subjects, born to defer to him whether you wanted to or not. You aren’t an angel, who gave him a cautious respect for the good of your realms’ relations. You didn’t even know he existed before you came to the Devildom. You chose not to see the heir to the throne, and instead saw Diavolo-- a gentle giant with more love in his heart than he was born to carry. Diavolo, who would go to the ends of all three realms for those he cared for. Diavolo, who was loud and boisterous and always wanted to be involved. Diavolo, who liked cigar cookies and video games and could be a bit of a goofball.

He cherishes every aspect of your relationship. He loves when you send him blurry photos of various pairs of objects or animals you see when out and about, with the caption "us fr <3”. He loves getting links to dumb memes in the middle of the night, followed by laughing emojis or “this u??” You poke fun at him, bite back with quips when he makes jokes at your expense, and play silly little pranks on him. His favorite is when you gesture to something on his coat, only to flick the tip of his nose when he looks down to investigate. He’d long since caught on to that ruse, among others, but your bright smile and chirping laughter when you teased him for falling for it yet again are too precious to him to not play along.

He even appreciates the times that you turn down his invitations to spend the weekend at the palace with him, citing exhaustion from the brothers’ antics or pressing schoolwork from RAD. You’re not automatically agreeing simply because you have no choice-- you spend your limited, precious time on him because you want to. More often than not you made up for declining by showing up entirely unannounced some time later, cloaked beneath a spell to shield you from Barbatos’ sixth sense for his Lord getting up to shenanigans, beckoning him to sneak out with you to suck on thick milkshakes in some cramped corner booth and giggle conspiratorially like a couple of misbehaving teenagers.

When he’s around you, Diavolo feels like he can breathe. He doesn’t have to worry about keeping up appearances. You aren’t looking for political sway, or funding, or an elevated social status. For the first time in his life, he can set aside his heavy burden and feel... normal. He can ruffle your hair, and only half-heartedly hold you back from practically climbing him to dig your knuckles into his scalp and return the favor. He can laugh when you swat at his hand as he reaches across your plate to steal a few of your fries. He wears the friendship bracelet you braided for him at all times. He considered charming it to never fade or fray, but when it finally falls apart from wear, your mock exasperation when you tell him you’ll make him another makes him feel so real.

Diavolo was a lonely man. But now, he has a friend. A genuine, honest-to-goodness friend. You have matching contact photos, and inside jokes. You don’t call him my lord when he comes up in conversation; it’s always my friend. Now, thanks to you, he isn’t lonely anymore.

#obey me #diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #obey me x reader #om! diavolo #om diavolo #obey me dateables #if you read through these tags i love you special

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tiktowafel · 1 year

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I'm not sure if you've done her, but I shall still still ask, any Headcanons for kinoko?

(this color choices in this coloring are so ugly, i'm sorry. i made it like two years ago. back then the idea that two fabrics of the same color can look good while touching each other was beyond my comprehension, and i also haven't bothered to look up how lolita dresses actually look like. please forgive me lol)

as a child she was rather insecure of her quirk (and the interest in mushrooms that came with it) because other kids thought it was gross and weird

however, seeing pro heroes confidently show their quirks to the public and base their entire personas around them no matter how strange they were, gave her the courage to act the same about her own. now she views her quirk as unique and cute rather than weird, and she wants to be as popular as possible in the future - she hopes that maybe some kids with "weird" quirks will also feel inspired by her

in general she tries to express her uniqueness as much as she can, which is why she loves the over-the-top and cutesy lolita fashion

but she'll also wear anything she finds cute, like overalls, the oversized sweater + miniskirt combo, basically anything with polka dots on it...

(she probably hates wearing her school uniform lol)

of course her room is also overwhelmingly cute and girly. the floor is covered with fluffy rugs and there are countless mushroom pillows and sanrio plushies lying around

despite her quirk not being capable of creating it (i think that her quirk can only create mushrooms, not all fungi), she finds mold very fascinating. if it wasn't a health hazard, she would probably keep her spoiled food to see what kinds of mold grow on it

she's a great cook - she can make almost anything... as long as it has mushrooms in it

scrambled egg with mushrooms? easy as pie! regular scrambled egg? might end with the dorm kitchen burning down. somehow.

she also likes gardening, even if there aren't any mushrooms involved. she helps Ibara take care of all her plants, the two of them also want to turn a small part of the lawn surrounding the dorm building into a garden

she's obsessed with romance

her bookshelves are filled with romance novels and shoujo manga (along with mushroom encyclopedias, of course)

and she loves playing matchmaker for her classmates, along with Setsuna, her best friend. they have a special secret notebook dedicated to various more or less ridiculous ships featuring their friends, and even though they don't treat the whole thing very seriously, the notebook's content might just... instantly kill any uninitiated person who looks inside

it's kind of funny because with her Shipper Goggles™ she can see romance literally everywhere while also completely failing to notice Kuroiro's crush on her. she even considers him her type!

acts very fangirly about her favorite idols and pro heroes, definitely runs some kind of blog filled with simping, heart emojis, reposted fanart, photos of her poster-decorated bedroom walls, and aesthetic edits

oh yeah and she definitely reads and writes romance fanfiction about them. sorry not sorry #yourfavelikesrpf

that's all i have for her, hope you enjoyed these hcs :)

#i don't like rpf but SHE WOULD and i don't want to lie to myself #btw the history of the kawaii style is really interesting and has a lot to do with stuff like #noncomformity and resisting japans strict expectations towards young girls #its pretty cool but i didnt know how to include it here without being too messy?#but yea i think kinoko would definitely appreciate the origins of her favorite aesthetic #bnha #class 1b #kinoko komori #komori kinoko #class 1b headcanons #tikto's headcanons #bnha headcanons

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kyleknight · 6 days

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I’m curious about swimwear season

ohhh swimwear season is one of my most self indulgent guilty pleasure fics. its mcyt characters (mostly life series/hermitcraft with some other folks) in a one piece universe that is not exactly canon compliant but still follows a lot of the in-universe plots/settings.

specifically, swimwear season is about scar and grian forming a pirate crew to escape their pasts, and along the way they fight marines, gradually start to discover the True History, and just in general have a good time (with a lot of bad times as well)

its actually a partner story to a Different story in the same universe which is about joel and etho joining false's pirate crew (which is drown)

I dont know if Id ever post swimwear season because I write it in a very disjointed way (which fits grian and scar's characters bc theyre traumatized and dealing with it very badly [thumbs up emoji])

below the cut is a little section of what Ive written (and Ive written nearly 15k for this

Grian could kick himself. He can’t believe it took him all day to realize.

Scar didn’t relent because he had confidence in them. When has Scar ever been that straightforward? Scar gave in to Callum’s request to stop at a port because he had made his own plan and decided not to tell anyone.

And now their captain is missing, and there are four Marine ships in the harbor, preventing the ship from leaving but not attacking. Just caging them in with their cannons pointed straight at the ship.

Everyone has returned to Swaggin’ Larry by now, eyeing the Marines surrounding them while in various states. Shane seems distraught, while H is pacing angrily. Jojo has insisted that Joe remain out of sight below deck with Oli, just in case.

Grian is keeping his thoughts to himself, no matter how much he wants to scream and rage. He’s the first mate, and he’s the responsible party while the captain is absent. He needs to keep the crew calm while they wait for Scar to return— because he has to return. Grian refuses to even think about trying to leave without him.

Scar knew. Or maybe he lied about what the Cipher Pol said. But Jojo looks just as surprised by the presence of the Marines and horrified at the disappearance of their captain as everyone else.

So… this is something that Scar knows. Another secret he won’t give up. Grian bristles at the thought. He likes to tell himself that he knows more about Scar than anyone… but what does he know really?

=========

Scar sits down in the chair offered by the Cipher Pol. He’s never been in a room with four agents at the same time. He imagines this is meant to intimidate him, but he simply meets their attempts at haki aggression with his own. They can play that all day, but after a few moments, they tone it down.

He’s probably stronger than them. Of course, if they all attack at once or if they have some odd devil fruits, it could be a challenge, but he’s not all that concerned. Not really. Because they said they wanted to talk, not to take him in. That’s a relief (because he has been pretty worried about them finding out about Joe and the Poneglyphs) but it also presents its own set of challenges.

Now, the key here is to offer up a few little tidbits of information but to glean more from the agents than they’re getting from him. Quite a challenge for four intelligence agents, but Scar isn’t an amateur at this.

“Captain Scar,” the first of the agents says, sitting across from him. He’s got a tangible haki signature, and he doesn’t bother to hide it. It doesn’t feel quite as strong as Scar’s, but Scar isn’t about to underestimate him. There’s every possibility that he might have some kind of devil fruit.

“Could I have the names of the agents I’m talking to?” Scar replies pleasantly.

“No you may not,” the agent says. “You can answer our questions, and if we’re satisfied with your answers, then we might not instruct the Marines stationed in the harbor to sink your ship and arrest your crew.”

#mani rambling #thank you for asking about this one specifically

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coulsons-fullmetal-cellist · 1 year

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The Last Temptation of Dieter

(Dieter x horror loving female reader)

Summary: Dieter is faced with his old temptations from his past

Warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol, lots of angst from Dieter, don’t worry though, lots of fluff at the end, some swearing

Check out masterlist here

Your phone woke you with a start.

Normally, it would be turned off by now but this night, you had that feeling that something just wasn’t quite right. Dieter was busy filming a music video for some hip upcoming boyband, so you hadn’t been together for a few days. He would always send about a million kissing emojis to your phone before you went to bed, but he hadn’t done so tonight, hence the worry.

You had trouble hearing what was on the other end of the phone, but you knew it was your boyfriend.

“Hello Dieter?”

There were noises which were hard to distinguish, unsure whether they were from pain or pleasure.

“Dieter, are you there?”

Finally, a soft whimpering was heard.

“Sorry…didn’t mean to wake you”.

“Dieter, what’s wrong?”

He was choking out his words now: “Ummm…I…they invited me…private wrap party…they…they”

“Dieter, where are you?”

“I’m hiding in a bathroom”.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“…don’t know…went in someone’s car…”

“Dieter, stay where you are. I’ll come and get you”.

“No…don’t have to…”

“I’m going to come and get you, okay?

He barely managed out a reply, but you felt sure he wouldn’t move.

*****

Thankfully, you installed a find-my-phone app, as Dieter was notoriously losing his. You noted the address and left almost immediately. It wasn’t busy at this time of night and soon you parked outside a gawdy too modern looking mansion.

A party was definitely underway.

You were glad you never underwent any American education, the whole college campus lifestyle a weird alien culture you witnessed only in films growing up. Kids who looked like they’ve just come out of puberty were running around drinking and dancing, screaming at each other for no reason. Expensive furniture was littered in various types of alcohol and drugs were openly on display, no care whatsoever taken with the environment they were in. You felt glad that you were old fashioned, kids these days had no respect for anything beyond their own self-image.

After searching through too many rooms one should have in a house and too many bathrooms in various states of disgusting disrepair, you finally found Dieter. He was curled into the corner of a bathroom, his broadness lost and shrunken in hiding. You gently squeezed his knee to alert him of your presence. What you were met with were pools of sadness, his eyes having lost all forms of light. He barely whispered your name, unsure if you were actually there. You gently reassured him that you were and will be getting him out of this hell hole. You firmly held his hand as you lead him out of the maze of the house, Dieter only looking at his feet as he shuffled behind you.

Hopeful that you managed to get to the car without running into any issues, you managed to bundle Dieter into the car. But as soon as you closed the door, the predators descended on their prey, surrounding you; this must be the hip songsters you didn’t know the names of, their presence not worth knowing.

But they started the taunting:

“Hey Bravo, where’re you goin’?”

“We thought you were a party guy?”

“We thought you were a man!”

“You’re just some washed up actor!”

“A pathetic loser!”

“Is your mummy taking you home Bravo?”

Something about their whiny voices with their pathetic jibs made something snap in you.

“Well, maybe I should call all your mothers and tell them about your pathetic behaviour!”

That started them and you continued.

“You know what real men do? They take responsibility for their actions and work to make themselves better. This man right here has struggled with his problems and worked hard to make his life better. Then you twats come along, thinking you’re invulnerable because you’re young and good looking. But that’s all you’ve got going for you and you’ll be replaced as soon as the next young thing comes along, and you know it. So instead of bettering yourselves, you take out your insecurities by bullying and making yourselves feel superior. Well, it doesn’t work, you just end up looking like pathetic little cretins!”

You were yelling at this point and the crowd had backed away from you in fear. It would almost look funny as they towered over you. You gave them the hardest stare you could muster before heading towards your side of the car.

“And none of you have bothered to change the toilet rolls. You wouldn’t survive a day out in the real world!”

At that, you sped away.

*****

You didn’t know Dieter’s address, so the logical thing was to take him back to yours, him having been there several times before.

He would’ve immediately crawled under the covers of your bed if you hadn’t convinced him to at least change into some sweatpants first. After, you changed back into your pyjamas, you crawled in after him.

“They’re right, you know” he mumbled, “I am a pathetic loser”.

“Oh Dieter” you kissed his forehead “You’re not. All that stuff I yelled to those idiots was true”.

“Really?”

“Every word”

He seemed to lighten up a bit. “You definitely scared them”.

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both chuckled at this.

“They wouldn’t survive a horror film”.

“They’d be the first killed” you agreed.

“I wouldn’t survive a horror film”.

“Don’t worry, this final girl will protect you”.

He looked at you, the light finally returning to his eyes.

“You’re my final girl. In fact, I need to tell you something”.

He firmly grabbed your hand.

“I…I love you”.

You sighed in happiness and gave him the softest kiss, passing on all your love.

“I love you Dieter Bravo”.

“You do?”

“Of course, I do”

His face beamed with so much happiness, he could reignite a dying star with the light that shined in his eyes.

“You actually already confessed your love to me”.

You snuggled into each other, his chest being the best pillow, his arms the best blanket.

“I have?”

“Yeah, you left a drunken voice message a few weeks ago”.

“Fuck, I’m sorry”

“No, it’s fine. It was quite cute actually. I’m never going to delete it”.

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x reader #the bubble netflix #the bubble #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter fanfic #dieter x reader #dieter bravo #love of horror fanfic #love of horror #dieter x honey cakes

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mirandamckenni1 · 30 days

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youtube

A skeptic's deep dive into hypnosis I command you to go to https://ift.tt/wMh01ug to try everything Brilliant has to offer for free for a full 30 days. You’ll also get 20% off an annual premium subscription. You're getting very sleeeeeeeeepy. Sleeeeeeeeeeepyyyyyyy. In one form or another, hypnotic trances have been interwoven throughout human history, manifesting in various forms, from the rituals of ancient shamans and healers to the profound experiences guided by spiritual leaders. But hypnosis has also been (and continues to become) a popular tool for use in therapy. But what, exactly, is going on? Is the hypnotic state legit? And if so, what is it? And if not...well then what? In this deep dive into the world of hypnosis, I'm going to try to untangle this fascinating phenomenon from every angle. There are so many complex mysteries surrounding hypnosis, from the state versus non-state debate to the latest research findings. We'll journey through the history of hypnosis, debunking myths along the way and uncovering the truth behind its efficacy as a therapeutic tool. But this isn't just an academic exploration, it's a personal journey too. As someone who has been a long-time skeptic, I feel compelled to learn more. I'm pretty surprised by what I found. So whether you're a doubter yourself or a curious believer, join me on this thought-provoking adventure into the realm of hypnosis. Don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments below—I'd love to hear your thoughts and takeaways. HUGE thanks to Rohin from Medlife Crisis, WonderWhy, and Thomas Rintoul for lending their voices for the amazing voiceovers. Go check out their YouTube channels! I've linked them in my pinned comment below. Sources (and links to hypnotherapy demonstrations): https://bit.ly/Hypnosisvideosources Wanna watch this video without ads and see all of our exclusive content? Head over to https://ift.tt/LU6f1IK 0:00 - I'm a non-believer 1:57 - Hypnosis in ancient history 3:04 - Mesmer and magnetic powers 10:35 - The debunking of animal magnetism 12:27 - Hypnosis gets scientific 18:02 - Freud shows up lol 19:36 - A casual mention of stage hypnosis 20:24 - How therapists hypnotize people 25:21 - What hypnosis feels like...and not 26:49 - A significant risk with hypnosis 28:14 - The big debate: state or nonstate 30:22 - Self-report and biological research 33:36 - Psychological research 39:57 - Research supporting a nonstate 44:25 - A deceptive test of hypnotizability 47:45 - So is hypnosis real? 52:07 - Where I land We published a book called Brains Explained. You can buy it! https://amzn.to/3hkmCdo Join our mess of a Discord server: https://ift.tt/xMWSpH3 If you like what we do, support our work by becoming a Patron: https://ift.tt/SgXZ4pz Alternatively, if you wanna support the channel and get some fun emojis to use in comments and a badge next to your name in the process, consider becoming a "member" of our channel right here on YT: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCYLrBefhyp8YyI9VGPbghvw/join We couldn’t do all of this without our awesome Patreon Producers, Ryan M. Shaver, Carrie McKenzie, Jareth Arnold, and Caldwell Braeburn. You four are like a hypnotic suggestion to feel warm and cozy on the inside! And thanks to our other high-level Patrons, including: 12tone Marcelo Kenji Linda L Schubert Susan Jones Ilsa Jerome Chuck V Robert Stuckey k b Raymond Chin Marcel Ward via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMQ9mCadSzM

#IFTTT #YouTube #Youtube

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joytraveler · 1 year

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Death Master 2 (continued)

The third stage is a gruesome swamp, which seems to be being used for a butcher's larder-- what with all the dead animals hanging from the trees!

"Ohhh that, that Sneaky Pete!!" Bea growls at her mysterious foe. The morbid stage ahead rather distracts her, however. "Maybe we... maybe we just shouldn't do this, we've had enough of this game haven't we??"

Glockroach: Leatherface is gonna be the boss of this HNV: It's this or Box Baby, Bea... make your choice

"Mmmm I sure do love Slaughter Swamp! Yep, just gonna mosey right along ahead there!!"

Of course the decapitated animals fall out of the trees and attack you. Why would they not, right? And bony arms grab at you from out of the swamp... And finally a towering pile of SOMETHING rises up out of the muck, surrounded by swirling will o' wisps!

Llord_Kuruku: ok wut john_brown: wait I thought this was a fantasy hack and slasher why are you fighting the poop emoji???

"THE GREAT MIGHTY POO!" Bea sings at the top of her voice! "Hehgegehehehehgggfff I don't wanna touch it, no!! Long range, gimme the torch, NO!" She has to chase after an annoying little ghost to get the torch to set her weapon ablaze!

Once the stack of brown stuff's gaseous little friends are destroyed, it weakens and collapses, leaving behind some sort of shrine, half sunk in the murk; Alonzo stares at it for a second, and there's another flashback.

"Here we go, nnng.. comfort food.. What's the happiest thing I have.." she reaches to the snack table.. "Yesss, gummy sharks.. Ok I'm ready"

The sunken shrine fades to a newer shrine in a brighter forest, where Alonzo is being led along by a shrine keeper, and shown two mosaics. One shows the Death Master, whom we already know, raising the dead from their graves. The other mosaic shows a different figure – the one who's been following you all along – who seems to be putting live people into graves!

john_brown: i really like the little world mythology this game is building Syrupentine: oh, it's like the Wizard of Oz! This guy's brother is hunting you for killing him and taking his place! His scythe, whatever

"Right, so I must be the Good Death of the North, meaning I have to be enemies with Elphaba now"

aroseahorseboy: now don't get me wrong this game is totally cool and gory and everything but! I feel like they are beating around the bush and not telling us about glem and his mom and dad!

Stage 4 starts with a horrible monster's maw, seeming to form the gateway to this next world. As Bea treks through, though, it becomes clear that it's no metaphor-- the whole next stage takes place inside the body of a vast dead creature!

pigbarrel: hey, its my house!! pull up a maggot and make yourself at home!

Sunlight shines through the many gaping holes in the monster's body, illuminating all the lovely scenes of Alonzo hacking his way through gigantic decomposers and detritovores, and running from collapsing vertebrae and certain things that are partially digested but still alive. The music even seems composed of various squelches and gurgles, to boot. A long, spiraling spinal staircase is the worst part, with a sea of roiling worms rising up after her!

"Hey, my followers! No autographs, please.”

Apparently this monster was a female, because the boss of this stage is a zombie egg, able to 'hatch' seemingly any number of appendages from under its calcified shell! At one point it becomes a pinwheel of wings and legs, and at least four shrieking beaks!

pigbarrel: and there's me, sorry for all the attacking HNV: I wondered if your Facebook picture was accurate, sorry for doubting you SugarGlyda: !!!!! oh its a perfect limb baby!!!

When the egg is finally stilled, Alonzo makes his way out onto a ridge overlooking a valley, that glows menacingly with purple evil. But, once again, we get a flashback; Alonzo and his would-be bride, embracing as they sit on the ridge together, watching as a magnificent, phoenix-like bird soars over the sunset-- in fact it's clearly the very bird whose ruined body you just journeyed through.

"I'm not crying internally, nope not me.. Made o' granite, be I."

TaichouSenseiKun: It's okay Bea let it out john_brown: why is this game so sad though?? HNV: We end up asking that about almost all of them honestly

To be concluded.

#jtnuggets #mar 30 #bea #john brown's body #hnv #sugahglyda #pigbarrel #taichousenseikun #syrupentine #llord kuruku #glockroach

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watevermelon · 4 years

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Cheating!Haikyuu x Reader

✧ Summary: Akaashi and Kuroo getting caught cheating and begging you for forgiveness ➳ A/N: Honestly, I don’t think ANY of the boys would ever even consider it. They’re all so loving in their own ways and for anyone to actually do this would be absolutely horrible to their partners. ➳ Masterlist

But ask for angst and you shall receive. kuroo’s is funny and akaashi’s is not

----- xXxXxXxXxXx-----

✧ Intro:

You trusted your boyfriend of the past year explicitly. Your relationship was built on a mutual friendship, going from casual classmates to one day dating when he had asked you out. You were surprised to say the least, this was one of the members of the volleyball team. They were popular throughout school with the entire student body. And so for him to show interest in you? You honestly hadn’t believed it.

But as the months went on and a few became your everyday norm, along with even getting invited over his house to meet his family, you were sure that the man you were dating was the one.

You remembered the first time he kissed you, the first I love you that he ever whispered in your ears.

And so it broke your heart to find out that you were not the only one he was saying these words to.

The school you were attending was known to be a powerhouse regarding volleyball. You were proud of the national spotlight your boyfriend was fighting on. And you fully understood the times when he would be gone or busy for weeks at a time - whether it was for traveling far away for various training camps or just practicing long into the nights for upcoming tournaments.

You remembered the first time you saw it, the text that was very much not from you. The phone had vibrated while he was out of the room and you were not trying to be nosy - calling his name that he received a notification and glancing at it briefly through the motion.

I miss your lips on mine.

You knew from the beginning that Akaashi always had a special connection to Bokuto. Even before you were close to the quiet setter, you admired how he always seemed to know how to lift Bokuto’s spirits. From the preliminary matches against Nekoma to just seeing the two in school, it made you want to foster such a close relationship with him yourself.

And on more than one occasion, you had to remind yourself they were just friends.

Your friends warned you ahead of time, that the two had a strong bond despite being separated by a year and not even attending the same junior high. You knew this and simply attributed it to his patience and overall ability to read people.

When you had once asked Akaashi about his relationship with the nationally acclaimed ace, he smiled and said, “He can be a lot to handle. But I love watching Bokuto-san play when he’s in the zone.”

You took it a face value, instead relishing in the comfort knowing that your boyfriend was wrapping his arms around you.

Months later, with that insecurity pushed in the back of your mind, it all came swarming out at Bokuto-san’s text. There was no denying what you were reading or who it was from. It was even accompanied by owl emojis of all things - as if there was anything cute about your boyfriend’s affair.

Your attention was caught and you needed confirmation, scrolling up through their conversation and seeing similar words spanning the last few hours alone. Had he been texting Bokuto the entire time he was sitting here with you?

You threw his phone back on the couch and stood, moving before even thinking about how you looked.

Why would Akaashi do this? Akaashi?? The kind, loving Akaashi Keiji who had the love of the whole school? Hadn’t he chosen you?

Standing in the middle of his family’s living room, you put a hand on your chest to steady your breathing. You felt the onset of panic gripping your chest, threatening to force tears to the corners of your eyes. There was nothing you could say, you just had to see if it was true.

How long had this been going on? Is it possible that this was before you were even dating? Why was Akaashi stringing along the both of you? Were any of the promises Akaashi told you true?

There was no denying the sudden jump of fear you had when Akaashi walked back in the room, a questioning look on his face as he saw you try to level your breathing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

As if he had no idea, no reason to truly think that he was the cause behind your unease.

You tried your best to feign a smile, but there was no point in hiding anything to someone as cunning as Akaashi, you figured. He was best at reading other people. Instead, you held your frown and motioned to your phone, “I got a bad text from my mom - I need to go home.”

Akaashi was already moving toward you, arms reaching out to steady you at the shoulders. He was such a comforting foundation for you. And yet now, his close proximity brought nothing but anxiety and anger.

He seemed to notice since Akaashi dropped his hands to his sides. “Alright, let me walk you home?”

You nodded in agreement, not trusting your voice. You worried that you were going to unintentionally spill out the word vomit - accusing words ready on the tip of your tongue. He still reached out to encase your hand in his own, silently walking side-by-side for the entire time.

Thankfully, you had different homerooms and could avoid him for the first initial hours of school the next day. Did you have a plan? Absolutely fucking not. But you knew that you had to see them together - see them in their element and see why.

You needed to know the reason why Akaashi would throw away everything you built together.

You stayed silent to your friends, not even telling your best friend what happened. Not that you were afraid of Akaashi finding out that you knew somehow, but you wanted to see what was naturally between them, without anyone else’s interference.

Akaashi had thankfully given you your space, probably assuming that your family emergency from before was what was holding you down. It also helped that they had a practice match against Itachiyama at the end of the week, so he was called to practice especially more.

He always had such beautiful hands, despite the hours of practice he dedicated to his sport. It made you wonder what he did with them. There were a number of times before where Akaashi would text you late into the night, citing that Bokuto had demanded more practice with his spikes.

Was Akaashi really setting a ball for five hours straight after your last mid-terms?

You had a million questions in your head as you sat in the stands with your friends, watching the game of Fukurōdani vs Itachiyama. Bokuto was at the top of his game today, none of his usual vices holding him down as he played against his rival, Sakusa. For you and the other students cheering on the team, it could have been easily seen as just another game.

But it wasn’t.

You watched how Akaashi’s gaze would sometimes linger on Bokuto, long legs guiding his stride to a spike. The ace seemed to fly above the net, passion for their shared sport radiating even up in the stands where you were sitting. The fond expression Akaashi had only brought up his earlier words to mind - I love watching him play.

The interaction was so strangely intimate and yet public for any spectator the game. The moment passed, time moving forward as you continued to analyze every smile Akaashi shot the ace. Bokuto’s raised an overjoyed fist in the air in his excitement over the single point. He yelled his usual, Hey! Hey! Hey! And while you found the action usually humorous, you could only stare in blank realization as Akaashi fondly smiled at the spiker’s words.

There was no rising panic this time, nothing inside you screaming at you that something was wrong.

Your eyes kept following the scene, the game playing out while you stood stock-still among your friends. But your mind was already made up, long before the game ended. You thought about it a few times over the past few days, why Bokuto? Why you?

Why did Akaashi even approach you in the first place?

Thinking back to any conversations you had with Akaashi that surrounded volleyball. All their little volleyball antics - it was always about Bokuto. He got in trouble with the principal, got depressed during a game, even something as simple as being overly hungry before a match. And who was the one to always pick him up?

Akaashi.

And this was not something that could be as simply waved off as teammates. Neither Haruki nor Konoha were like this with the ace and both of them knew Bokuto longer than Akaashi. Kaori had even joked to you once that Akaashi was capable of reading Bokuto’s mind.

You were a fool.

You hadn’t told Akaashi you were going to attend this practice match in the first place and you honestly had no intention of doing so.

Instead, you texted Bokuto during the game to meet you outside by the entrance stairs, alone.

Most of the other students had already filled out of the gymnasium, out into the streets on their way home as you leaned against the cold railing. You could hear Bokuto’s quick steps around the corner before you even saw him.

“Hey, (L/N)-chan! What’s up?” He greeted you in a friendly manner, waving with one hand fully outstretched even though you were only a few feet away from each other.

You weren’t going to smile and pretend.

“Bokuto-san.” You stated, looking him in the eyes head-on.

Despite his amicable disposition, Bokuto had quite the intimidating disposition to outsiders. The tall spiker was built with muscles, arms and legs looking seemingly sculpted. And here you were, pointing a heavy glare with your chin held-high at a man who could very easily over-power you.

“Don’t smile at me like everything’s okay.” You started, “I know.”

His smile immediately squashed to a straight line, eyes hardening as they looked down at you. Bokuto crossed his arms, his athletic duffel pushed to the side of his body.

“I won’t apologize for being in love with him.” His voice rang through the calm outdoors, not a single soul to hear his confession other than you.

You scoffed, “How did I already know you’d say that?”

Bokuto kept your question rhetorical, for once staying uncharacteristically silent. His gaze never wavered off of yours, eyes boring right into you as you wordlessly sized each other up.

“I tried to let him go, once.” Bokuto continued, “When you first started dating, I tried and couldn’t.”

They were together before you were even in the picture.

You bit your lip, asking. “And you’re going to ask me not to make you do it again?”

Bokuto paused, uncrossing his arms and looking heavenward for the right answer. How could he? They were already on the road to love before you even really knew Akaashi. Why did he ask you out in the first place? Why progress this far in your relationship?

None of this was right and you had every bone in your body screaming at you to beat the ever loving shit out of the two volleyball players. But there was one thing you needed to cut off now.

“I don’t need an answer to confirm what you’re thinking.” You stated, “Treat his heart kindly.”

Bokuto sputtered, raising his arms in defense. “Akaashi chose you - he asked you out!”

You almost snarled at the irony, “As if that matters! What’s a label against the fact that he’s been in love with you during that entire time?”

He recoiled, nothing to say against your true question. You were his girlfriend, but how could that possibly matter when his heart continually lingered on the ace in front of you. And, since the volleyball God’s hated you, it was no surprise when the setter turned the corner to your impassioned conversation.

“What’s happening here?” His voice rang out, meeting Bokuto’s worried expression and your hardened one.

Akaashi stopped in his stride the moment he saw the both of you, not moving closer to you or Bokuto and simply guarding his expression from leaking any of his inner thoughts.

“I thought about this a million times over the past few days.” You said low, but voice strong enough for the others to hear. “How I would yell at you, curse you to your face... But now that I see you, you’re pathetic.”

Akaashi was the master of a blank expression, but now there was nothing but panic and hurt written all over his face. Whatever words he was going to say, to somehow excuse his behavior, died on his lips when you calmly raised your palm to stop him.

How dare he.

"I don’t want to know why you led me on for so long. Or why you decided stringing along Bokuto this whole time would be good to the people you claim to love.”

Bokuto frowned, looking to the side away from the two of you, but said nothing to refute your statement.

“Don’t ever talk to me again.”

You walked away from Akaashi then, turning away and heading home without looking back. There was nothing left, no words that could ever explain or fix the situation, not that you wanted him to try either. Bokuto’s voice reached you mid-way through the steps, his words low but aimed toward Akaashi.

The words were low and you were surprised you were even able to hear them: She’s not wrong.

The next day at school neither of them were present.

You laid it all out to your best friends at lunch then, all of you sitting under the apple tree and quietly listening to your story. They offered you small condolences, never bringing up the volleyball team or practice matches around you ever again. Konoha shot you a wilted frown in passing, no words enough to even start that conversation.

You only saw Akaashi one more time. It was no surprise that Fukurōdani was progressing to the Spring Nationals and everyone at school were quick to congratulate various team members on their victory. You saw them, preening around the lunchroom as the student body wished them luck.

They were holding hands.

You lingered on the sight for a single second. But it was enough for Akaashi to notice your eyes, shooting a withered smile in your direction.

There was nothing you wanted to do in response, nothing left for you to say and hope for when it came to the setter. And so you simply turned back to your friends, rejoining the conversation with thoughts of the volleyball team long behind you.

You had to re-read the text three times, your mind whirling in circles to accept the fact that this was for your Tetsurō.

It was only when your hands flew to scroll upwards that you realized yes, this was really happening. It was all so quick - he had left the room to use the bathroom, or whatever, at this point you hadn’t even remembered why. Just his phone, which he always had on him, had vibrated away on your coffee table.

You grabbed it half-mindedly, original intention to bring it to him and maybe leave it at the door in case it was some type of volleyball-related emergency. He was the captain, after all. And so when the actual contents of the texts grabbed your attention, it was all over from there.

The profile picture was of the popular student body president, her shining face radiating even now. The other boys of the volleyball team had always complimented her and brought her up in conversation. Before you were even dating, you remembered that Kuroo particularly agreed with many of her features: long-hair, mild temper, and good grades even in college prep classes.

You were on the average scale of things - average grades in college prep, a member of photography club, but not particularly motivated - you were easily replaceable in the fast-paced world that Kuroo and others were constantly facing. And while you tried not to dwell on it too much, Kuroo was at the top of class with many of the female student body interested in him - there were times he had inadvertently made you felt small.

But Kuroo did try to wave those thoughts away, saying that you were the one he was in love with. It was only for you that he showed his soft side and only you were the recipient of his loving gestures.

And yet now you had in your hands evidence that none that was true.

You wanted to scream - reading all the affectionate phrases he had typed away to this woman.

Were you going to accuse him, then and there? What were you even going to say to him?

Kuroo made the choice for you.

“What are you doing with my phone?” He asked, voice promulgating the silent room.

You were sure that your eyes were glossy as you responded back quietly, “I was going to bring it to you when it kept ringing.”

“Thanks babe, just pass it over.” He said calmly, outstretching a palm in your direction.

You held the phone to your chest, there was no way you could feign a reaction now. This was no longer the simple interaction that you could pretend would pass over, the adulterous text was still open on the screen, open for both parties to quickly see.

His grey-eyes surveyed you silently, not a single word uttered, as if it would break this unmoving conversation. You always found his observant stare endearing, how his greatest weapon on the volleyball court was something he used on you to understand you better.

And now, you could only imagine what he was truly thinking throughout your relationship.

Kuroo’s fond looks, those kind smiles, they were all calculated actions to keep you on his hook. They were not the loving terms of endearment you believed them to be. They were deliberate ways to sate your relationship, nothing more.

You frowned, handing him the phone and biting out coldly. “I want you to leave.”

“Listen babe, it’s not what you think.” Kuroo was reaching for you, taking steps to close the distance before you fled away entirely.

“Of course! What was I thinking?!” Your voice was raising with every word, anger seeping through toward the middle-blocker. “Some other girl texting you: I dream of waking up to you every day, could be some other context that what I’m too small-minded to know? Right?”

He followed behind you as you traversed through your empty house. You just wanted to get away from him, just the very image of Kuroo was enough to make you angry and inescapably hurt. There was so much you wanted to just yell at him, but at the same time you knew this was the man who held your heart.

And the same one who chose to break it.

What was there even to say to him? You’ve won? Congratulations? Get out of my house?

“Get out!” You settled on that and yelled behind you, your voice weak as you sucked in air between tears. Kuroo continued to follow behind you despite your loud command.

You pushed open the door to your bedroom and attempted to slam it behind you, but a simple kick of his foot and it stayed open. Instead, Kuroo closed it and locked it as he followed.

He had you cornered.

Would it be crazy if you jumped out the window?

Your eyes shot to the opening at the side-wall of your room, but it seemed his gaze followed your own path when he grabbed your elbow and pulled you to him.

Kuroo had his hands on your shoulders, trying to calm you down. “Please just listen to me.”

“Listen to what?” You were trying to push him away, but Kuroo refused to budge against you.

He leaned his chin against the top of your head, one of his arms going down to wrap around your waist. “Stop, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Then why...?”

“It looks bad. I know it does.” Kuroo started to explain, “But I can prove to you that this isn’t what you think.”

You sniffed, not saying anything as you waited for whatever bullshit response was already formulating on his lips.

What you hadn’t expected was for Kuroo to raise the phone to your ear, the ringing of the outgoing call blasting next to you.

What was he doing? Was he insane?

You didn’t want to listen to her voice, listen to whatever she was going to say when she picked up the phone. Loving words, teasing innuendo’s, all of that you shared with Kuroo and now he was going to show-off what he had with another girl?

You twisted against him, ready to fight out of outrage of not only being cheated on, but also Kuroo doing the utmost stupid thing he could ever do and showing it off in front of you.

The voice that rang out froze you in your actions.

“Captain! Was my text really bad that you had to call?”

“... Yamamoto-san?” You near-whispered back in recognition.

You heard what was almost a yelp back. He stuttered over your name, before asking, “Ah, you and um. You and Kuroo-san are spending your day off together?”

Taking hold of the phone yourself, you looked at the screen and saw that it was indeed to the same student body president that the call was going through to. Same icon, same everything. So why was Yamamoto on the other side of the line? You looked up at Kuroo briefly, the middle-blocker staring at you right back. He urged the phone back to your ear, reminding you that Nekoma’s ace was still on the other side of the line.

“...Yeah.” You answered back weakly, remembering his initial question.

“... Was there something you needed?” He asked nervously.

“Um.” You bit your lip and looked at Kuroo, “Why is your name saved as our student body president in Kuroo’s phone?”

“Aasdfgh.” The strangled noise lasted for ten seconds before Kuroo cleared his throat next to you. “Captain! You’re there too!”

“Explain it, now.” Kuroo said flatly, his voice plain as his grip on your waist tightened. You put a hand on his chest in an attempt to keep him at a distance. You were still mad, admittedly also confused, but you didn’t want Kuroo to just hug the issue away.

Of course, he pushed your hand away and continued to hold you close.

“Please, don’t judge me (L/N)-san!”

Your confusion was only growing. “Um. What’s going on?”

“somycrushgavemehernumberbuticanttalktogirlsandididntwanttomessupsoiwaspracticingwhattosayonkurooandtherestandthentheygotmadsosometimesitextmyselffromtheirphonenumbersaspractice!”

The words were so fast, you held the phone closer to your ear in an attempt to decipher anything that was just said.

“Wait, what?”

Yamamoto sighed loudly before exclaiming, “I can’t talk to my crush!”

You tilted your head in confusion, “... Kuroo’s your crush?”

The middle-blocker sighed above you, moving to flick your forehead while Yamamoto was near screaming in outrage on the line.

“No!! I.. I don’t have a lot of experience talking to girls! And then my crush gave me her number and she started texting me! And believe me, I tried practicing on otome games and even they dumped me!”

“Uhh...”

His loud voice kept going, explaining the strange tale, “And so I was begging the guys to help me practice and eventually they got sick of me too! She was really into me too and we were flirting and I wasn’t ready!! I don’t have anyyyy experience, (L/N)-san!!”

You shot a look up to Kuroo, his gaze locked on you without any other hints of an expression on. You were sure that your face was a mix of incredulous and worried, was this for real?

“And then she started texting me dirty things and I wanted to do it back, so Kuroo taught--”

“Skip it.” The middle-blocker stated harshly, cutting off the ace.

“Aasdafhauh.” Yamamoto outwardly struggled, remembering that both Kuroo and you, a female, were on the line. “I thought all was lost and then Kuroo let me practice texting myself and seeing how it looked from his phone!”

Oh.

lmao

“Wait, what?”

Kuroo summarized it plainly for you. “It means he was practicing sexting himself from my phone.”

“Ca-Captain!” His voice rang out.

You could not help your growing, amused smile. “Is it true?”

“I - well, yes...”

His voice trailed, but you held in your chuckle. “Ah, thanks for clearing that up.”

Yamamoto paused before asking, “Did my impassioned words led to a misunderstanding?”

“I’m sure your words are the least of your problems tomorrow at practice.” Kuroo answered this time, earning an anguished exclamation before the middle-blocker hung-up and threw the phone away.

That was not what you were expecting.

Your mind was in a million places, not sure what to say and what you were just witness to. Kuroo pulled you along to your bed, near throwing you on top while you were distracted in your thoughts.

He hovered above you, placing a light kiss on your forehead and then trailing down the side of your face. You cupped his cheek, still trying to process what the hell just happened, but moved to slot his lips against yours and reassure yourself that this was real.

Kuroo pulled away and whispered against your lips, “I know it looks crazy, but please trust in me - in us.”

You nodded silently, simply stating an okay when Kuroo continued to stare at you.

“I want this... more than just now in high school.” Kuroo looked to the side, before returning his gaze back to you.

Guiding his head back to yours, you pushed off your elbow to lean up to him. “Me too. I’m sorry for being so quick to accuse you.”

“Stop.” He murmured against your skin, small pecks following his wake. “I should’ve explained it to you before.”

“I mean, it does sound pretty crazy.” You joked, a fond smile growing on your face as Kuroo continued to shower your neck with small kisses. “To think you were flirting with Yamamoto of all people.”

“Oi.” A small scowl was already on his face.

You were ready to tease your poor boyfriend, “Sorry, you were sexting him.��

Kuroo rolled his eyes, a hand already sneaking its way under your shirt. “Why don’t I show you what I was teaching him?”

You felt your eyes comically widen at his boldness, any hint of your previous teasing falling away as your boyfriend’s sly smirk crawled further and further down your body.

The love you felt for Kuroo was undeniably mutual, but you had to learn to trust your boyfriend.

----- xXxXxXxXxXx-----

oop lmao hope you enjoyed these short stories!

Come checkout some of the added-on endings to Cheater!Akaashi’s story: ➳ Masterlist

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nad-zeta · 3 years

Text

Mitsuhide- The Blind Date

Fandom: Ikesen

Pairings: Mitsuhide x Reader

Genre: Modern Au

Warning: Alcohol

Words: 1800+

Comments: Eeeeep, guess what time it is???? Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤❤😳🥺🥺😳❤🌈 This week gonna be funnnnn!

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ

How in the high heavens did Mitsuhide allow this to happen. Had he truly lost his mind—gone entirely insane— or perhaps he had been drugged, yes, for there was no other logical explanation as to why on earth he would humour his friends so.

Sitting on the high stool at the bar, he checked his phone, 8:53— he would give her seven more minutes and then he was going to yeet out— that way, at least he could tell the other that he ‘tried’. After all, that was all he promised his friends— that he would show up—nothing more, nothing less.

Tracing his finger along the rim of the whiskey glass, Mitsuhide contemplated the events that transpired leading to this rather unfortunate present day.

All his friends were either dating or married—tragic really—and for some or other reason, they felt the need to pry into his personal life. “Don’t you want to share your life with someone,” the mother of the group started, which inevitably only caused the rest of the group to latch onto the idea and turn the once serious board meeting into a game of matchmaking. It certainly didn’t help that he agreed to a blind date willingly— well semi willingly, anything to get them off his back— adding a condition of his own, that the mouse would have to agree to it from her side without intervention from theirs.

He was confident she would refuse, from the words of friends, she certainly sounded like someone of likewise thinking— a fellow workaholic with no time for dating. But she — to his great surprise— accepted.

It made no sense to him. What made even less sense was why his friends thought the two would click, as personalities and hobbies certainly didn't seem to gell well— at least not in his mind.

Not that any of that mattered as time was ticking away, and she had one more minute to show up before he would call it a night.

A myriad of texts illuminated his phone, and Mitsuhide could only release a dejected sigh from the latest of messages plaguing the group chat. “Be nice and behave yourself,” the mother hen had said.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” came the instigation from Masamune, followed by an array of winking faces and smirk emojis. Now you can only imagine the chaos that unleashed upon the group chat with each member laying their own little egg and nugget of wisdom.

“M-Mitsu?” a soft unsure voice spoke up from beside him, tapping him gently on the shoulder.

Switching his phone off, he plastered a snek-like smile across his features before turning his sharp eyes onto the unfortunate little victim of his company.

“My, you must be the little mouse I’ve heard so much about," came the sly words from his mouth as he gestured for you to take a seat beside him.

With a slight smile shot his way, you took up residence on the tall barstool, “In the flesh,” came your cheeky voice as you shrugged off your jacket and placed both elbows on the table to rest your chin upon your hands.

“And you must be the detective?” you quipped back.

Mitsuhide smiled at that, eyes taking on a mischievous glint as he leaned in closer to drop his voice to a dangerous whisper, “of sorts,” he quickly looked behind him — to add to the suspicion— before returning his attention to you, “and you, my dear, have unfortunately been set up and caught in the foxes trap.”

He kept your gaze in all seriousness.

He was sure you had heard the rumours of his interrogation methods, being no secret at all in the little town you occupied, people, unfortunately, liked to gossip — and whether the rumours of his wicked ways of getting information out of suspects had been spread intentionally or not, people tend to move with caution around him. It was, unfortunately, the nature of his job, and as such, led him down this long lonely road.

You narrowed your eyes at the man, silence befalling the pair of you as you held his gaze before responding in an equally intimidating voice, “have you now, or is it you who has been caught in my trap.”

After another pause, you threw your head back in a burst of laughter without a care in the world. 'He seems fun,' you thought, shooting a wink in the direction of the bartender in thanks for the whiskey on the rocks. You picked up the crystal glass and swirled the liquid around before taking a long sip. It had been a long day, so much so that you almost wanted to stand the poor man up, yet you came anyway, if only for a stiff drink to ease the tension of the day.

“So, Mr fox detective, sir, what’s wrong with you that your friends felt the need to set you up on a blind date, and with me of all people! Do they hate you or something?" you asked, tilting your head to the side in curiosity.

In the dimly lit bar, you gave Mitsuhide a quick once over— he was handsome, in a dangerous, mysterious kind of way. He reminded you of a creature of myths— a kitsune— with his white hair and golden eyes accompanied by that razor-sharp smile. Perhaps that is why the rumours surrounding him were all so believable to the simpletons of the town who had nothing better to do than gossip— cause heaven forbid they do actual work for a change. Relatively speaking, you had not paid the gossip much mind. Instead, you were in the business of judging a book for yourself and not by what others rated it as.

“I could ask the same of you, little one?” he returned the question back to you, resting his chin on his hands.

“Well, to put it simply, my friends don’t know the difference between being alone and being lonely,” you said with a sigh, taking another sip of the drink in front of you.

Mitsuhide nodded in response, long fingers tracing over his glass thoughtfully with a hum of acknowledgement as you continued. “I knew if I refused to come tonight, they would just pester me until I agreed, so, in the name of some peace and quiet, here I am,” you ended off with a laugh and shake of the head.

Perhaps that was not entirely true; sometimes, you wondered what it would be like to find love— to have company to attend the various friend’s weddings with— after all, you were forever the bridesmaid and never the bride.

On the other hand, he knew the struggles of meddling friends all too well, and of course, the endless headache that accompanied the refusal of their ‘help’. He lifted his glass towards you, features softening as eyes crinkled at the seams in a semi genuine smile, “to meddlesome friends.”

You smiled brightly at that, clinking your glass with his as a comfortable silence befell the two of you—it looks like you had more in common than just your workaholic ways.

After a couple of minutes had passed, both your phones lit up at the same time, with an array of nosy friends asking about the ongoing date. And the two of you couldn’t help but burst into laughter and shake your heads in unison, “Unbelievable,” you spoke, taking another sip, an idea forming in your head to get them off your case for a little while longer.

Mitsuhide raised a curious brow at you as you silently lifted your phone, scrolling between the apps before landing on the camera. You shot him a mischievous smile before throwing your arm around his shoulder to pull him closer to you, “What do you think they would say if we sent a selfie,” you said, looking into the camera smiling brightly as finger spammed the little circle capturing a dozen or so photos before Mitsuhide even had time to rebuff. You never did mind creating a bit of chaos, and what better way to do so than, god forbid, you actually hit it off with the man.

“I wonder,” was all he said with a sly smile, and to your surprise, Mitsuhide actually smiled in a handful of the ones captured.

You quickly edited the picture, posting it onto the group with a cheeky caption; however, before locking your phone once more, something in the image caught your attention—a little sticker on Mitsuhide’s trench coat lapel. Your brows furrowed as you zoomed in to inspect it before they lifted to the man beside you, to see it in person. With a curious smile and finger pointed out to the little fox sticker, you couldn’t help but ask, “What’s with the little fox?”

“It’s a long story, my dear,” he said with an air of mystery, but you persisted, leaning closer to get a better look.

“Well, I have time,” the words fell from your mouth, followed by another round of drinks ordered.

“You truly wish to know, little one?” he replied with glowing eyes. And that was the beginning of the end.

The origin story of the fox sticker led to another, that, then led to another and then another. Until a fun game started between the two of you— a story for a story— each new tale accompanied by a new round of drinks ordered.

It was now your turn to tell yet another exciting story, this time about your childhood of all things, however, time had quickly slipped away, and before you knew it, your eyelids started to grow heavy with sleep, words coming out slower and slower until finally your head fell and landed on Mistuhised shoulder.

“My, my little one, you should not let your guard down so easily with a man like me,” the tender words were spoken; it was one of those rare occasions Mitsihide dropped his foxlike mask and wore a genuine smile.

He looked over to see you sound asleep, and it seemed that his fingers moved to their own accord, reaching up to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingertips. After a moment or two, he shrugged off his trench coat and draped it over your shoulders to keep you warm and protected from the cold night’s chill.

“Come along, little mouse; I believe it is time for sleepy mice to go to bed.”

He then proceeded to gently hook his arm around your legs and waist, picking you up bridal style and cradling you to his chest.

“You truly are a troublesome little one, whatever shall I do with you,” he spoke fondly as he carefully loaded you into the passenger seat of his car before securing the seatbelt around you, while you, completely unstirred, remained fast asleep.

You awoke the next day in your own bed, splitting headache nagging at your temples as unfocused gaze locked onto a glass of water and aspirin left by your bedside. Sitting up, you wasted no time taking the hangover cure, memories of the previous night flooding your head.

“Shit shit shit shit,” you curse under your breath, throwing yourself back and covering your head with a pillow— how very uncool of you to just pass out in front of a stranger like that, never mind how unsafe.

Your phone buzzed on the bedside table beside you, cutting your groans of embarrassment and cringe short, replacing it instead with a broad smile upon reading the text from your mysterious date.

#akechi mitsuhide #ikemen mitsuhide #mitsuhide fanfic #mitsuhide #mitsuhide x reader #ikesen akechi mitsuhide #Hehehe is a new birthday bash afoot?#i wonder?

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bonkers-4-hatter · 3 years

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⇸ Words: 4,027

⇸ TW (Again): This fanfic has mentions of kidnapping, violence, assault, choking, strangulation, forced kissing, forcing self onto the reader at certain points and of course, Yandere themes and actions.

⇸ If any of the above does trigger you, please do not read. All characters are 18+ as mentions of everyone attending college are in the story.

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Nagisa was your first real friend.

Actually, he was the first person to actually talk to you at all when you came to Iwatobi. Being a foreigner it made a lot of the students steer away from you, but Nagisa never made you feel that way. His bright smile was the first thing that greeted you everyday at the school’s gate. It was something that you always looked forward to.

He of course introduced you to the rest of the swim team and you all became good friends, but Nagisa spent the most time with you by far. He was always at your house, pulling you to try new cafes and places to eat and just have fun. It was part of his energetic nature, wanting to go and do something, try something, but he wanted to do it with you the most out of everyone in the group. You never really gave it much thought through the years. You were close friends, you just thought it was him wanting to spend as much time with you before you went back to America...but now, you're rethinking everything he’s done and said to you over the past three and a half years.

Your hands shook, making the picture that illuminated on your phone screen shake back in response. You were simply letting the group know when you would be leaving. You were going back to America for University and while the rest of the group was excited for you and your new endeavor, some were making plans to hang out with you one last time for a while, Nagisa didn’t say anything in the group chat, the only indication that he was even seeing the messages was his profile picture showing up underneath the messages.

It wasn’t long until your phone notified you off the hook, one message after another. You thought the group chat was blowing up, but no...it was Nagisa messaging you privately with words you’ve never heard him speak to you, nor anyone before in your whole time of knowing him.

Nagi<3: You think you can leave me?

Nagi<3: You’re supposed to stay with me! How could you leave like that? After all we’ve been through? All those times I was there for you??

Nagi<3: I won’t let you leave (Y/N), you belong here with me...I’ll make sure you won’t leave the city let alone the country!

Nagi<3: I love you (Y/N)! Don’t you get it? We’re supposed to be together damnit! Why can’t you see that? You can’t be that dense.

Nagi<3: Is it because you like Haru? Makoto? Rei? Are you playing hard to get because you’re a slut? Flirting with them and ignoring me?? Is my attention not fucking enough for you? Have to go whore yourself to the rest of the group?!

Nagi<3: ...I’m just angry, you’re not a whore (Y/N), I really do love you! Please stay here, we’ll get a place for ourselves, I’ll take care of you (Y/N), have I ever let you down? Fucking say something! Please!

Nagi<3: I need you (Y/N), you’re my whole world and I won’t let you slip away...

It was too much for you to handle. With shaking hands and tears streaming down your face, you quickly blocked Nagisa from all social media along with his contact in your phone. He scared you with his words...he seemed obsessed, delusional even. You knew he cared for you, but you only thought it was as a friend. The way he dropped the word, ‘love’ made you shudder.

Saying he loves you and then going around and accusing you of being a whore and going around to the other guys in the group made you unsettled. Taking a few deep breaths, you sat your phone down making a mental note to not look at it for the rest of the night. Your eyes scanned the room, boxes still scattered around; some filled, taped and labeled and others empty or even waiting for you to build the boxes. Deciding that the best thing to do was get the packing done as soon as possible even if you were still a bit apprehensive. The lingering words that Nagisa sent you still swirled in your head as you went about packing everything with a new found mission to get out as soon as you could.

With a satisfied huff, you stacked one of the final boxes in the corner of the almost empty room. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you wiped your brow and turned toward your phone that was on the nightstand. It was face down, but you did hear it go off, the vibrations echoed in the room, but you ignored it all together. It’s been hours since then and with the majority of everything packed and ready to go, it was time for bed. You had plans with Gou tomorrow to have brunch and just talk, a final hangout before you left.

After doing your nightly routine, you were settled in bed, the cool sheets feeling great on your heated skin from the manual labor you did. Your gaze settled on the phone still in place on your nightstand face down. You felt silly, you blocked Nagisa it should be alright, the notifications were probably Gou just double checking on your guys’ plans for tomorrow. With a final sigh, you quickly grabbed the device and turned it back around and pressed the side making it light up. Scrunching your eyes at the sudden intrusion of light on your poor retinas, you turned the brightness down so your eyes could adjust.

Going through notifications from various apps and social media, you quickly replied to Gou who did message you to confirm your plans for tomorrow. With a final kissy emoji at the end of your sentence and a tap of your finger, the message was sent to her. As you continued to go through what you missed the past few hours, your eyes stopped at a notification for a text message from an unknown number.

You could feel the anxiety bubble inside of you as you stared at the number, you didn’t want to even look at the message itself, but something told you to. With a shaky breath, you tapped on it and waited as your phone loaded the message.

You’ll regret that (Y/N), I’m coming for you…

That’s all it said. A fucking cryptic message calling you out by name. A threat that hung over your head and one that made the breath catch in your throat. A message not even ten words long made fear build up inside of you. Now, every creak and sound could be a potential threat at least that’s how your mind perceived it.

You knew this was Nagisa telling you this, but he was Nagisa, he...he wouldn’t do anything terrible...would he? Words are one thing, but the truth came out with someone's actions. Your eyes shifted toward your door, in the dark everything was more intimidating and menacing. Now fully sat up in your bed, you pulled your knees to your chest as much as you could and just stared at the door that was draped in the shadowy curtain of darkness. Your mind kept playing out a scenario of Nagisa coming through your bedroom door, a crazed look in his eyes and a weapon to hurt you with…the very thought made you shudder.

Between the packing and the interaction with Nagisa, you were exhausted. As you continued to stare at the door, you could feel your poor eyes start to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up with you as you tried your hardest to stay awake, wanting to be on alert if anything did happen, but all of that went out the window as you felt yourself slip into a restless slumber.

A softness touched your face making you shift in your sleep, but something else made you alert, a soft voice filtered through your room. You were home alone, your parents were away on a business trip, it was just you there should be nobody else talking in your house. Your eyes snapped open, trying to adjust to the darkness that surrounded you.

“You’re cute when you’re asleep.” A hand cupped your cheek making your whole body stiff at the contact. Flailing about, you pushed yourself up against your headboard as the figure only laughed and walked toward your door where the light switch was. You already knew who it was based on the voice and your mind instantly went to your death.

With a simple flip of the switch, light flooded your vision and there stood Nagisa, the same crazed look in his eyes that you pictured earlier, but no weapon, nothing to connect you to your demise. His footsteps seemed heavier as he stalked his way toward you like an animal about to attack its prey. “I was pissed off at you (Y/N), is that why you blocked me? Did I scare you?” he came to stop in front of the foot of your bed, his gaze lingering on you. You could feel your breathing become labored the longer he stared at you.

“What’re you doing here?” Ignoring his question, you sent him a glare, back still against the headboard not moving an inch.

“Coming to see you (Y/N)-chan.” Sending you a wink, he laughed at your visible shudder. “You’re scaring me Nagi.” His gaze was fixated on you so intensely, it sent another shiver down your spine.

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he left his spot by the foot of the bed and made his way toward you, his steps becoming heavier with each step. Your eyes glanced to the bedroom door and without a second thought, you bolted from your bed throwing the covers at Nagisa hoping to slow him down a bit. Your feet pounded against your wooden floor, your hands reaching out to grasp the doorknob, the thought of freedom just inches away.

Thud

The wind was knocked out of you, your body colliding with the hard floor, delicate skin skidding to a stop as a weight settled on top of you, not only pinning you in place, but making it hard to breathe due to the weight being directly on your chest. “Always playing hard to get, do you do this to the other guys (Y/N), like the slut you are?” His words were nonsense and not giving them a second thought, you started to thrash on the floor, your freedom was your only thought. You didn’t care about the bruises that would litter your body after this. He just laughed at your attempt to break free, even though he was the smallest of the group, he was just as strong as the others. With no luck, there was one thing left.

“Help! Somebody call the cops, I need help!” You yelled this at the top of your lungs, sucking in as much air as you could from your somewhat crushed chest. Before you could yell again, a hand was wrapped around your throat cutting off what little air you were getting.

“Shut up! Jesus, first ignoring me, blocking me, making me go to these fucking lengths to get your fucking attention!” Giving your throat a bit of a squeeze, nothing but a wheeze escaped you, your hands flying up to try and pry his constricting hands off so you could get air to your needy lungs.

“If you just stayed here, we would’ve been fine (Y/N), but you just had to go back to America! Is nothing good enough for you!? Why’s that (Y/N)? Answer me!” All you could do was continue to gasp and hit his hands. You could feel tears spring to your eyes, sliding down your face as Nagisa continued to choke the life out of you.

You could see black spots starting to fill your vision. “I fucking love you (Y/N)!”, by some miracle, he let up his hold on your throat. You greedily started to suck in as much air as your burning lungs could, but he still had a hold of your throat and the squeeze he sent was evident of this. “You’ll see how much I truly love you, don’t worry, we’ll be happy at my house. Just me and you and nobody to interrupt us.” Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss to your forehead before finally letting your poor, bruised throat go. Still settled on your chest, he peered down at you.

“They’ll look for me! You can’t keep me locked away forever! This isn’t how love works Nagisa! You need help!” His smile slipped, but he regained it quickly before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss, holding your face in his hands so you couldn’t move away. Not granting him access, he bit your lip enough to draw blood making you gasp at the pain giving him enough time to slip his tongue in and explore his new territory. His tongue glided over your teeth, the roof of your mouth, even sliding along your own tongue. It wasn’t romantic in the slightest, it was dominating, possessive and it made you feel vile inside. When he decided to break the kiss, he was flushed, breath labored with a love sick smile plastered on his face.

“They won’t be looking for you silly.” Those words made you freeze in terror. Images of horrific deaths flashed through your mind. Your mind raced wondering what he would do to dispose of you. What twisted fantasy was he going to fulfill? “You’ll be right there with them, alongside everyone we know as happy as can be.” Licking his lips, his gaze settled on your swollen lips, but flickered back up to your eyes to finish his thought.

He wasn’t making sense, his words were nonsense to you. He didn’t give an explanation to his words, he just traced your lips with his thumb, his focus solely on the place his mouth was moments before. It was as if he was in a trance, like he was playing out his own fantasy in his mind.

“You’re going to tell everyone that you changed your mind about going back to America.” His thumb stopped tracing your lip, dragging down your bottom lip, your chin and straight down your now bruised neck. Your breath hitched as he applied the smallest amount of pressure to his thumb, pressing into it. His eyes bore into yours as he continued to rattle off his plan.

“Then, you’ll move in with me, the house I told you about on the edge of town, big enough to raise a family in.” His hands came back up to cup your cheeks, your mind reeling at his sentence. Children? Just something else tied up with the delusion he was putting forth. Fingers started to caress your skin, the contact making you flinch.

“It’ll be perfect (Y/N), us together in our house, still surrounded by friends and family, all you have to do is be good and follow what I say...or we can do this the hard way,” One hand left your cheek and traveled back down to your throat, fingers drumming against the abused skin.

“What’s the hard way…” Your voice was hoarse and held a twinge of fear that much was obvious. Nagisa smirked at the tone of your voice. He knew he had the upper hand here and one way or another, he was going to have you. You had an inkling of what the hard way was, but you wanted to hear it from him.

No words were said as the hand that was drumming against the bruised skin of your throat moved upwards, brushing past your cheeks making a shudder run up your spine before his fingers slid into your locks only to have him grip your tresses and yank your head to the side. A squeal of pain flew from your mouth as his laughter rang through the silent room.

Leaning down, hands still having a death grip on your hair, he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath fanning it. Ignoring the burning sensation of your poor scalp from how hard he was gripping and pulling your hair, he started to speak.

“The hard way is when I’m not so nice,” He stopped for a moment and nibbled on your earlobe making that vile feeling crawl back up. “I’ll take you, but you get nothing of yours, just the clothes on your pretty body, I’ll take you back to our house and lock you up there, probably have to chain you up so you don’t escape. Nobody will come over, you won’t be able to contact your friends, your family, nobody ever again. It’ll just be me and you. Everyone will mourn you and never know what happened to little ole (Y/N).”

Either way, you would still have to go with him, but the bleakest silver lining was you could still see your family and friends, you’d just have to put up a front. That still sounded better than being chained in a house while everything mourned and looked for you with no resolve.

His chuckle broke your thoughts. “I’ll give you a minute to think about your options, but I already know which you’ll be picking.” With that, he started to place kisses on your cheek, your chin, and down the column of your neck, the pressure on the bruises making you wince as his lips grazed over the skin.

He was right though, there was only one logical option, the easy way… as much as you hated to admit it.

“Nagisa...I choose th- ahhhh!” He gave a quick bite to your collar bone before you could finish your sentence.

Feeling a wet sensation on the infected area, you guessed he was licking at the spot. “The easy way. Of course you do (Y/N)-chan, I knew you’d pick that.” Pushing himself back, he stared down at you, a smile gracing his face, nothing malicious and crazed about it, just a genuine smile, the one you’ve seen countless times with friends, swim competitions, just the smile Nagisa was known for.

Leaning down, he placed a quick kiss on your lips, a nice chaste kiss that in another situation you would’ve loved, but in this instance it didn’t feel right, but starting now you had to put up a front, an act to please him, to ensure you had the chance to see your friends and family even though you’d still be kidnapped by your once friend.

“Now, let’s get some of your things to take over to our new house, right sweetie?” With a shaky breath, you nodded, trying to have a smile on your face as Nagisa finally got up from on top of your chest, holding out a hand to help you up, grabbing it, he hauled you up and pulled you in close to him, holding you to his chest.

Holding you in his grasp, he had his arms wrapped around you squeezing you a bit, feeling your body and taking comfort in the fact that you were finally his. “I love you (Y/N)-chan, I know you won’t say it back yet, but you will...I know you will.” Pulling back from the hug, he smiled at you once more.

“Let’s get your stuff, whatever you want to bring my cute (Y/N)-chan.” You didn’t say anything as you started to get your stuff ready, packing as much as you could in what bags you had. Nagisa was doing the same, the smile still plastered on his face as he even hummed while doing so. With everything happening so quickly, you haven’t been able to wrap your mind around what was happening, the situation. You could feel yourself crumple, the clothing dropping from your hands and knees buckling as you slumped down onto the floor.

You knew there was no way out. The tears started to pour, something you hoped to never show in front of your captor, but your resolve was crumbling fast. A loud sob escaped you as you curled onto the cold, wooden floor. The hands that started to rub your back made you flinch on contact. The once soothing notion only made you curl more into yourself wishing to disappear into a floor, wishing it would just open up and swallow you whole.

Nagisa's hands continued to caress your tensed self, as small ‘shhh’s’ came from him in hopes of comforting you. “I hate when my (Y/N)-chan cries.” Your position didn’t last long before you were pulled up, limbs heavy and numb.

Nagisa pulled you into your bed, on top of clothing that you were in the middle of packing before. With tears still streaming down your face, you were pulled flushed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your middle as he nuzzled into the curve of your neck, kissing the still tender skin around the area. Placing a few more kisses onto you, he pulled back and leaned back against your headboard bringing you with him. Kissing the top of your head, he settled his chin on the top of your head. “You’ll feel better once we get you settled, don’t worry (Y/N)-chan, I’ll take care of you.”

True to his word, Nagisa did take care of you. Nobody really thought too much about you and Nagisa getting together, the guys noticed the looks he’d give you during school and hangouts and Gou was just absolutely happy that you had a boyfriend. Your parents were happy that you ‘changed your mind’ about going back to America and Nagisa…

Nagisa put up the perfect facade.

He was true to his word, letting you still see your friends and family, but he was always watching and you knew this after trying to escape a few times, throat clenching at the memories of your punishments for trying to run away. If you obeyed, you were showered with praise, gifts and affection from Nagisa. He still let you go to school, work, as if everything was picture perfect.

“(Y/N)-chan, my sweet little (Y/N)-chan.” Nagisa’s hands caressed your sides as you were trying to cook dinner in the kitchen. Some of your friends were over and you were trying to finish the main course, but he had other plans. You could feel his hand slip over the curve of your bottom, giving your backside a firm squeeze as he placed lazy kisses on the back of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side.

“I’m trying to finish dinner Nagi, please we can do this after.” You tried to shake him off as you turned the silvers of meats over that were frying in the pan to cook on the other side. Chuckling, he didn’t even bat an eye at you trying to push him away, his hands coming back, both circling around you to grope at your chest and grinding himself into your backside. The force made you lean into the stove more, the heat emitting from the device hitting some exposed skin but not enough to seriously burn you yet.

“That’s cute that you think you have a choice (Y/N)-chan,” Groping your chest again he laughed at your gasp and even thrusted up into your bottom, your hands gripping the sides of the counter on either side of the oven. “Keep cooking while I have my fun and remember to keep it down we have guests in the next room and if you don’t,” He leaned down to your ear before whispering, “I’ll have to punish you later.” Gulping, you nodded mutely at his words.

Doing as you were told, you continued to cook the dinner as Nagisa continued to do what he pleased with you just as he does every single day.

That’s how your new life has been and unfortunately how it always will be.

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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It's Delicate: Part III

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.9

Author’s Note: Here's Part 3!! This was super difficult for me to get out, but I think I'm happy with it. I rewrote it like 3 or 4 times

It's Delicate: Part III

Spencer notices everything. He’s been trained to notice the slightest change in his environment. He supposes that his profiler training has helped him be more comfortable in social situations. But still, Spencer feels like a fish out of water as he pushes the door to the bookstore open. He knows he should feel at home when he’s in a bookstore, but his heart seems to be racing. Spencer tries to quiet his nerves before he can feel himself running away.

Thinking that it might be a good idea to distract himself, Spencer walks over to the bookshelf filled with books from the floor to the ceiling. He runs his fingers along the spine of the books. Some are old and used, and others are well cared for with their enabled and embossed writing on the spines. He recognizes some titles, but others aren’t too familiar. There’s a whole world of books out there that Spencer has yet to explore. There’s a couple other patrons in the store, an older woman who sits on the soft rocking chair in the back corner and a young woman who already has a pile of books tucked under her arms.

Looking around, Spencer walks towards the back of the store where a glowing sign directs him to the restroom. He goes into the Men’s Room and locks the door behind him. Spencer looks at his reflection in the mirror. He wouldn’t consider himself a vain man, nor would he consider himself aloof about his appearance. He’s very much aware of the deep lines that collect around his eyes and the dark bags underneath. Spencer runs his fingers through his hair, wondering if he should have gotten a haircut. He likes the way his longer hair looks. It took so long after getting released from prison to get his curls back. His hair is the one part of his physical appearance that Spencer can say he likes; the rest he’s a little less than indifferent about on a good day.

Spencer shuts the light off in the bathroom and heads back to the front of the store. He approaches the store clerk, who sits behind the counter. She’s talking with the young woman who had the pile of books tucked under her arms. Spencer looks around the store, trying to find a sign for where the book club meets. He realizes that he doesn’t even know what Y/N looks like. He decides to take out his phone to text Y/N that he’s here. Spencer walks to the short stories section of the store and looks for the “P”s. Once he finds the book he’s looking for he takes a photo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: How have I not discovered this place sooner??

He doesn’t expect for Y/N to text him back right away, so he tucks his phone back into his pocket. Spencer walks to the front of the store. The display highlights the books of the month with different authors, genres, and themes. It’s a quaint little store and Spencer wonders why he put off visiting so long. The young woman finishes with the clerk and brushes past Spencer, her face buried in her phone. Spencer walks towards the shelves of True Crime books. He sees Rossi’s latest release about the Golden State Killer. Before Spencer can pick up the book, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: Ooooh a man after my own heart :) I’m guessing you’re here too

Spencer: Yes...I just realized I don’t know what you look like?

Y/N: Well, I guess that means you have to find me

Spencer looks around at the patrons in the store. The older woman and the younger woman seem like the only logical candidates. The young woman doesn’t look up when Spencer brushes past, her attention is intently focused on the book across her lap, while the older woman swipes on her e-reader.

Spencer: You know I could just call you and your phone would ring

Y/N: That’s like cheating

Y/N: Turn around

Spencer turns around and is greeted by the young woman who brushed past him before. She smiles up at him and Spencer can’t help but grin back at her. He didn’t really give much thought to what Y/N looks like, and he can only hope that she didn’t think too much about him in that way. Spencer has to stop himself from that spiral, and remind himself that it’s not a date.

“You’re Y/N?” Spencer asks, hoping that he doesn’t sound too nervous.

“Yes, and I really hope you’re Spencer,” she says, “you’re nothing like I pictured,”

Spencer’s face must have shown his shock because Y/N’s hand comes up to gently touch his upper arm in an attempt to quell his worry.

“No, nothing bad, Spencer. You just text like a grandpa so I figured you were a lonely old man. I’m just surprised that you’re pretty...young is all,” Y/N finishes her voice climbing up a couple of scales making her nerves evident.

Spencer nods in agreement, used to people thinking he’s older than he actually is his entire life. He supposes that’s because of his intelligence coupled with his social ineptitude.

“Well, judging by your texting, I predicted that you would be around my age, or younger,” Spencer says he’s always had difficulties keeping conversations going, yet right now his mind is swimming of different things he can tell Y/N.

“So you ready for your first Book Buddy meeting?” Y/N asks. The corners of her mouth turn upwards in a playful smile. Spencer likes her smile and grows disappointed that the only time he’ll be able to see it is when they meet together. As much as he is technology adverse, he wouldn’t mind being able to see her smile through her emojis and snarky messages.

“I’m still not too sure what we’re supposed to do, but at least I’ve got you to show me,”

“Come on Book Buddy virgin,” Y/N says winking at Spencer as she walks past him to the staircase that leads to the store’s basement.

Spencer tries to ignore her comment, but even with his brain power he can’t stop his ears from turning pink. He’s always blushing around people who listen to him, especially when those people are so enthralling to watch.

In the basement, there’s shelves and shelves of books lining the walls. A couple of couches and sofas are tucked in the corner with a table and lamp. The soft light is warm and inviting. Spencer’s eyes can’t help but to scan the various titles in the collection. Y/N flops down on the couch and taps the seat, signalling for Spencer to sit next to her.

Sitting down next to her, Spencer wonders how much space he should put between them. He doesn’t want to sit so close and have her think he’s only here to make a pass at her. Nor does he want to sit so far away, because the scent of her peppermint and eucalyptus perfume threatens to mesmerize him.

Y/N brushes her hair from her face with her right hand, that’s adorned with a ring and a couple gold bracelets. She looks over at Spencer apprehensively and he tries to give her a comforting smile back, but he’s afraid that he just looks awkward. He suddenly is very aware that his breath tastes like stale coffee and his hair is wild, pointing out in several directions.

“So Spencer,” Y/N says, “usually we meet in a big group to do these Book Clubs, but this year the store decided to do this Book Buddy thing. Reading and picking out books for someone can be a very personal thing, so I’d like to get to know you a little bit better if that’s alright?”

Spencer’s eyes steady the woman before him. She looks over at him, her eyes never breaking from his. Psychology shows that holding eye contact is a sign of confidence, for a litany of reasons, Spencer has always had difficulties maintaining eye contact. He sighs loudly. It’s almost a mix between exasperation and confusion. Even though Spencer has spent a good portion of his adult life surrounded by very forward people, he still feels slightly nervous when he comes across those types recreationally. Especially when those types seem to have smiles so contagious that they throw every scientific study on germs out the window.

“You want to know about me?” Spencer repeats. He can feel his ears flush, and is thoroughly reminded that he hardly knows who he is.

“Yes, I want to know all your salacious stories Spencer,” Y/N says with a sly smile.

Spencer chokes out a strained laugh before he tries to think of an answer. He can’t remember the last time someone wanted to get to know him. Or maybe he does, and just wants to pretend that those memories died with her. But he can’t, because they are painful and real.

“I’m an FBI Agent, uh the Behavioral Analysis Unit specifically. We track down serial killers and other time sensitive cases,” Spencer says, used to giving the speech about his job on the rare occasion he does talk to another lonely soul at a random bar in a city.

He looks over at Y/N, ready for the reaction he usually gets. Sometimes it’s pity, other times it’s awe. But it all tastes the same with a shot of whiskey.

“That must be an incredibly exhausting job, Spencer. It takes a special kind of person to do that,”

That’s strange, Spencer thinks. Her words aren’t full of pity or awe, but almost understanding. It’s strange, but Spencer likes strange things, after all.

“It is,” Spencer says. He doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with useless words that he knows are stale and meaningless. Somehow the silence doesn’t feel awkward.

“How long have you been in the FBI?” Y/N asks. She’s curious, but cautious to proceed and Spencer appreciates that.

“Since I was 22. I’m 34. I’ll be 35 soon,” Spencer says, still not fully believing that he’s spent nearly 13 years at the BAU.

“22, that’s a baby. I didn’t think that the FBI would recruit that young,”

Spencer grimaces, realizing that sooner or later this conversation would arise. He figured it would have come up when he got through the books in an hour or two. Spencer hates having to tell people about his intelligence. He never wants to make someone feel inferior about themselves because of his brain chemistry and genetic lottery.

“I’m kinda smart. Technically I’m a genius but I really hate that term. The idea behind intelligence testing has a very sexist and racist background. Besides, I don’t think true intelligence is accurately quantifiable,” Spencer tells her, repeating his speech usually reserved for arrogant detectives.

“That sounds like something a genius would say. You’re a humble genius. That’s a rare breed, Spencer” Y/N says, that contagious smile turning up the corners of her mouth and threatening to take over Spencer’s.

“I think that’s a compliment,” Spencer says “what about you? Tell me about yourself?” Spencer says, trying to remember the points of the conversation books he used to read as a kid in hopes of making a friend.

“Let’s see, you already know the boys. I don’t have any siblings and my mom lives in Florida, so we don’t see each other too often. I’m a Funeral Director in Alexandria, took it over after my dad passed a couple years,” Y/N says.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Spencer responds. Y/N smiles again, clearly a little tense to be talking about a sensitive topic.

“So Second Cat, I take it you’re a Poe fan,” Spencer says, holding to help ease into a more pleasant conversation.

“I like his short stories the best, but Emily Dickinson poetry will always have my heart. There’s something so ordinarily beautiful about the way she writes. She was so brilliant. And her and Susan, that’s a tragic love story,” Y/N finishes. She plays with the hem of her jacket absentmindedly almost like she wants to say something more.

“I first read “The Tell Tale Heart” when I was around 5,” Spencer starts, he rests his elbows on his knees to tell a story and he can’t help but feel a little excited when Y/N leans in a little closer to listen in, “I checked it out from the library and brought it home to read. Now it just so happened that I got a chemistry set. I will not incriminate myself but I may or may not have used the set as the directions intended,” Spencer says, holding up his hands in innocence.

Y/N scams him with a calculated stare, it’s not mean or judgmental, but cautious and careful. It’s like she’s deciding if she can trust him or not. He supposes she does when she winks back and says, “I’m sure that’s true Agent Reid,”

“It’s actually Dr Reid, but I’ll get there another day,” Spencer says quickly, eager to get back to his story, “so the chemistry set had some chemicals, the kind that won’t hurt kids. But I stole some sodium chlorate from the local gardening store and a pack of gummy worms from the Mini-Mart. Then I got back home and took out the chemistry set. I drop some of the sodium chlorate and gummy bears into the test tube and it starts to glow!” Spencer says, his voice gets excited when he remembers the experiment. There’s very few happy moments of his childhood, and this is one.

Y/N, listening to him eagerly, wears an excited expression as Spencer continues with the story. He’s forgotten what it’s like to have someone so interested in what you have to say.

“How does Poe fit in?” Y/N asks. Spencer’s fingers make a “1” as if to tell her to be patient.

“So I do the experiment and there’s pieces of molten gummy worms in my hair and on my clothes, but then I hear my mother walking up the stairs so I panic,” Spencer says, he’s an animated storyteller and Y/N is a captivated audience. He tries to not pay close attention to how her eyes hardly leave his or how they seem to be looking at him with wonder. But it’s hard to ignore that when you’ve never been looked at like that before.

“I scramble into my bed and shove the experiment under the bed, and it’s still smelling like burnt chemicals and gummy worms, mind you. And I pretend to read, but I’m reading The Tell Tale Heart, which you know is about a man who’s trying to cover up a terrible deed but literally shoving it under the floor. You know I think my 5 year old mind exploded that day,” Spencer says, he leans back so his head rests against the wall.

“It must have made quite an impression on you at what 5? How on Earth did you read Edgar Allen Poe at 5 years old? I didn’t read that until like Freshman year of high school,”

“I told you I was kind of smart,” Spencer replies, hoping that it would suffice.

“Yeah, but like a child prodigy that must have been very lonely,” Y/N says in a voice that tells Spencer she knows a thing or two about being intensely lonely.

“No one ever says that,” Spencer says in a hushed tone, “no one ever gets that it’s a lonely thing being a genius,” he finishes, putting air quotes around genius to show his discomfort with the term.

Y/N nods, “I’m not a genius by any means, Spencer, but I was an only kid. Part of me thinks it’s my fate to lonely,”

“I’m an only kid too,” Spencer says, “when I asked my mom why they didn’t have anymore kids she just told me why mess with perfection. I know it was meant to make me feel better, but part of me wonders what it would have been like to have a built in friend,”

“Tell me if I’m overstepping, I tend to do that, but do you want kids?” Y/N asks, she twists a ring that’s wrapped around her finger over and over like it’s a bad habit. She looks at him, expecting an answer, from the corner of her eye.

“I did,” Spencer says in a quiet voice, terrified that he’ll reveal too much to this enticing woman with eyes that never seem to want to look anywhere, but his.

“So did I,” Y/N tells him. Her voice mirrors his in it’s guarded, yet scared to reveal too much tone. Spencer is too busy hiding his own worry to recognize Y/N’s.

“I was thinking,” Spencer starts, determined to end the stale silence that settled between them, “of what book I thought you’d like. It’s actually a personal copy of mine. I had know clue how these things work, but I thought we could write notes in the margins. You know our thoughts and ideas about the book,”

Y/N gazes over at Spencer intently, as if she’s trying to think of how she’ll respond. Spencer notices the way Y/N pauses to think before she speaks, he tries to subdue the profiler training that ebbs to the surface, but he can’t control what his instincts tell him. He knows that Y/N is holding something back, but then again, so is he and who is he to judge.

“You’re okay with writing in a book?” Y/N asks, “I know that could be touchy for some,”

“Most of my books have little writings in the margins. I always thought that a book is a love letter from the author to the reader. You get to see inside their mind and to me that’s incredibly personal,” Spencer says, rubbing his palms that grew sweaty on his pants. It’s useless, because they just slide off.

“Well, you’ve convinced me, I brought a book too, but it doesn’t have notes,” Y/N says, “but if this works out, I’ll do it next time?” Y/N asks him, the hope in her voice apparent.

“I’d love nothing more than that, Y/N,” Spencer says, wanting nothing more than to reach out and brush his fingertips against Y/N’s. Her hand keeps on creeping closer to Spencer’s, he thinks that she’s trying to send him a signal, but Spencer feels too wounded, too raw to take that first big leap.

“So,” Spencer starts, he decides to clasp his hands together to avoid this new predicament, “what book did you decide on?”

“Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, it’s one of the few books that is perfect,” Y/N says, putting emphasis on the “perfect,”. Spencer thinks that he can grow to be eager to wait each week for the hour or so he’s able to watch Y/N speak with such passion and love.

“I’ve heard about, but I generally read technically books and other that it’s mainly just books that aren’t in English,” Spencer tells her, he rummages through his bag, looking for his book for Y/N.

“Close your eyes please,” Spencer says, he hides the book behind his back, he smiles as Y/N’s absurdly contagious smile grows.

“Come on Spencer, I don’t like being teased,” Y/N whines, faux pout and all.

Spencer grabs her hand and guides it to the cover of the book, The Goldfinch. He lets go of her hand; his practically stinging from the way her fingertips pressed up against the back of his hand, even though it was only for a couple of seconds.

“The Goldfinch” Y/N says, “ooh how on Earth did you know I love Donna Tartt?”

“Lucky guess, I suppose,” Spencer says, a surge of confidence bolstering him enough to wink at Y/N.

Spencer watches as Y/N flips through the pages of her book. Spencer read it a couple of weeks ago and loved the way the author intertwined the mystery to create a riveting story. Spencer checks his watch, realizing that nearly two hours have passed since he and Y/N sat on the couch.

Just as Y/N goes to say something, Spencer’s phone rings, ripping him from his modest paradise. He gives Y/N an apologetic look and mouths “work” as he steps away from Y/N.

“Reid,” he says, he forgot to check the caller ID, a little too excited to finish this call and get back to Y/N.

“Is that seriously how you greet your favorite person in the world?” the voice, presumably Garcia asks.

“Garcia,” Spencer says, unable to hold back his slight annoyance.

“I know it’s time off, but I guess like male serial killers don’t respect women, they don’t respect our time off either,” Garcia quips.

“I’ll be there in 20, I’m out and I’ll need to get my go bag,” Spencer tells her, preparing for the inevitable.

“I know exactly where you are, Spencer. A little birdie told me you’d called him in panic. I really hope your lady friend appreciated your lavender shirt,” Garcia says. Spencer can hear the click of keys as she talks.

He rolls his eyes, but knew that this was to be expected, “Later, Garcia,” he says, hanging up the phone call. Spencer walks back over to Y/N, whose face is buried in the book. She twirls a pen in her right hand, like she’s thinking about what she’ll write in the margins.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, but I have to cut this short, work emergency,” he explains to an Y/N understanding Y/N, who nods her head.

“Don’t worry, text me that you got home safe, please,” Y/N tells him, looking up at him with genuine worry in her eyes.

“I promise, Y/N. I’ll see you soon,” Spencer says, grabbing his book and making his way up the stairs. He reaches the top flight when his phone buzzes.

Y/N: I mean it :)

Y/N: It was nice meeting you officially….

Spencer reads over the messages as he walks, replaying the interaction in his head. It’s strange to have someone care if you make it home say. The only people on Earth, besides Spencer’s mother, that care if Spencer makes it home are the people that risk their lives with him as well.

Spencer shoots a quick message back.

Spencer: I promise and I hope you like the book, it’s very special to me.

Y/N: I’m sure I’ll love it! Now go save the world :) :)

Spencer smiles to himself as he reads the message, amazed that her contagious smile can make its way through the string of code from his smartphone. As he drives off, Spencer thinks about the way Y/N actually listens to him or the way her hair sees fall perfectly into place. He thinks about her laugh and the way she almost makes him feel safe in the short time he’s known her.

But all those good thoughts amount to nothing, when the biggest thought on Spencer’s mind revolves around the shiny ring that sits on her left hand on the finger between her pinky and pointer finger.

A wedding ring.

-TAGLIST- (Comment to be added or if I forgot to add you)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

@spencerreid9

@saspencereid

@laurakirsten0502

@thatsonezesty13 (I'm trying what's wrong with this tag)

Thank You For Reading

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid x reader series #criminal minds fanfic #it's delicate #spencer reid it's deicate

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 3 years

Note

Yeeaaah… so this ended up turning out longer than I intended… but it’s a theory I felt like sharing nonetheless. Hopefully tumblr doesn’t eat this & if this is too long or odd to answer… don’t worry, I understand. I just wanted to share while it was in my head, ya know? So: Long Post Warning!

I am not 100% caught up on every chapter yet, but I do have a brief understanding of all the events up til now. So please forgive me if this has been revealed and I just don’t know about it yet.

Bell 🧚🏻 = wind spirit🌬🌪

Salamander (who honestly looks more like a dragon than a salamander so he’s gettin’ the dragon emoji) 🐲 = fire spirit 🔥

Undine 🌊 = water spirit💧

As far as I know, we don’t yet have an inkling of who the earth spirit will be or to whom he will “choose” to contract with.

Tbh, I have a some of feelings about possibilities surrounding the earth spirit…

Bell and Undine are both obviously women and I’m 96.8% sure that Salamander is a boy… but who knows, I also wouldn’t be the least bit freaking surprised if Tabata threw that back in our face and Salamander ends up being a girl like in Shrek (and on that note, I just need to ask, in Shrek 2 when Shrek and Donkey drank the Happily Ever After Potion, it’s described as “"Happily Ever After Potion maximum strength. For you and your true love. Drink of this potion and bliss will be thine, happiness, comfort, and beauty divine.” This stuff turned both Shrek and Fiona human while it turned Donkey into a pure white stallion… am I the only one that still gets peeved we never got an answer on wtf that stuff did to Dragon??? Or how it would’ve affected their dragon donkey hybrid babies??? That’s the only thing that irks me about Shrek 2… okay, whew, now that I’ve gotten that out, back to Black Clover theorizing)

Going by the assumption that Salamander is most likely a boy, it would stand to reason that the earth spirit has a good chance at being male as well like 2 female spirits, 2 male.

Salamander’s inspiration obviously comes from dragon lore, I can’t find one singularly specific mythology reference Tabata would have based Salamader on so I’m guessing Salamander is based on dragon lore.

Bell has, for the most part, 2 inspirations Tabata based her on. The main one being Sylphs have power over the skies and air. They've been delineated to have control over the wind and the clouds, and even have the ability to purify the air and control the weather itself. Sylphs are not officially from a specific type of mythology, but if they were to be categorized they’d qualify as European folklore, same as Undine and Gnome which will be explained a few bullet points later. The second and most obvious (my fav of the 2) inspiration Tabata drew from for her character is Tinkerbell; from the blond hair, green dress, gets pissed when male partner pays attention to any female that isn’t her, yeah no denying she’s based on tinkerbell; my guess is Tabata combined her with Sylphs wind magic because it was Tinkerbell’s pixie dust that Peter, the lost boys, and the Darling children used to be able to fly. “Faith, trust, & a little bit of pixie dust” (Which is even more perfect because, even if he doesn’t show it, there is no one else in the series that has more faith & trust in Asta than Yuno does… Yuno’s infinite faith/trust in Asta both drives their rivalry forward and, by this logic, is one of the very reasons Yuno can sore so high🥰).

Undine is the only spirit character, for now, that is directly based off of a real water spirit in European folklore (again, even though Sylphs technically qualify to be categorized under European mythology, as far as I know, they are not officially categorized as such which is why I say Undine is the only one) - “Undine, also spelled Ondine, is a mythological figure of European tradition, a water nymph who becomes human when she falls in love with a man but is doomed to die if he is unfaithful to her.” Being that Undine is described as being able to take human form when she falls in love with a man *cough cough* Ariel *cough cough* Black Clover’s Undine’s background states that she made a contract with the first queen of the newly formed Heart Kingdom and has thus stayed loyal and made a contract with every Heart Queen since. Maybe she fell in love with the father/brother/husband/male-figure associated with the first queen and since the queen is the predominant ruler of the heart kingdom - Undine made a contract with her to be close to this man while knowing he could/would never be hers… she wouldn’t die if her love is one sided… if her love is unsaid and unrequited then anything this man does with another woman isn’t considered being unfaithful.. and maybe she’s maintained contracts with every Heart Queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love to that original man whom she took human form for. Or she was in love with the first queen and has made a contract with every queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love not on just for that first queen but every one of her descendants. Who knows?

Tabata’s mythological references (demonology excluded because that a whole other thing) for the most part mainly circulate around Greek mythology, Norse mythology, and European folklore.

Going based off of Undine (and Sylphs) , there’s a strong possibility that this yet to be named earth spirit will possibly directly based on, even if only slightly, someone of those three categories above.

Greek mythology, I find somewhat unlikely seeing as there’s no official male god of earth in Greek mythology. There are deities that have roles related to the earth yeah… but no god surround the earth itself or the element itself. The closest thing to a god of earth in Greek mythology is Gaea - goddess of earth. Simplify it to god of dirt and still the only result is Demeter goddess of agriculture (which seems similar to Mimosa in some ways but I don’t think she will obtain an earth spirit because I think the earth spirit will have more to do with mineral earth than plants and agriculture). If there is to be any inspiration drawn from Greek mythology in terms of an earth spirit, but even this seems a little unlikely, my guess would be possibly some characteristics from Satyrs seeing as they are the male equivalent of nymphs - what Undine is technically classified as.

Norse mythology seems a bit more, but not by much at first, plausible in terms of gathering reference for an earth spirit. It probably wouldn’t be the Norse God of Earth Jörd because she is still technically a goddess and mother of earth like Gaea. However, Norse mythology does have a deity of rocks - Hrungnir is a jötunn (a type of entity contrasted with gods and other non-human figures, such as dwarfs and elves. The entities are themselves ambiguously defined, variously referred to by several other terms, including risi, thurs and troll). There is also one more Norse aspect that goes along these lines - Dvergar or Norse dwarves are entities in Norse mythology associated with rocks, the earth, deathliness, luck, technology, craft, metal work, wisdom, and greed.

Norse mythologies depictions of both jötunn and dvergar tie into the third category of European folklore’s depiction of earth deities/spirits. In European folklore, Gnome, is a dwarfish, subterranean goblin or earth spirit who guards mines of precious treasures hidden in the earth. He is represented in medieval mythologies as a small, physically deformed (usually hunchbacked) creature resembling a dry, gnarled old man. - this description is similar to that of jötunn/dvergar and also ties into Charmy being revealed as part dwarf which will most likely be explored in a later arc.

Tbh, I picture this guy’s personality being somewhere between Grumpy from Snow White, the grumpy but well-meaning and wisecrack Lorax, and Phil from Disney’s rendition of Hercules… (not only does imagining this type of personality have me laughing… imagining the 2 most whom I find most likely to be chosen by this earth spirit… imagining them being partnered up with this personality has me near cackling😂)

As for the 2 whom most likely might be the “chosen one” of this earth spirit?

Even though he is technically described as being Arcane in terms of his magical attribute, Mercury is by definition “a naturally-occurring chemical element found in rock in the earth's crust, including in deposits of coal.” So mercury is naturally occurring, derived from earth, and the fact that it can come from deposits of coal ties in perfectly to the hypothesis of this earth spirit/deity being along the lines of dwarves which (not JUST in Snow White) are heavily associated with miners in various mythologies and folklores. So even though technically classified as being arcane, I do think Nozel has a strong possibility of being chosen by the spirit of earth (+ it would make for an EVEN MORE epic rivalry between Nozel and Fuegoleon if they both have an elemental spirit) (++ based off of how dwarves are depicted in mythology and based on how I decribed how I think this guy’s personality will be, I can see this guy as wise/rational but also getting grumpy/irritated easily with a short fuse and just imagine him getting irritated and kicking Nozel in the shins when when he doesn’t communicate his feelings properly & almost always kicks Solid/Nebra/Augustus in the shins when he says something he shouldn’t have - omg this guy’ll be a hoot!!🤣)

The second possible “chosen one” of this earth spirit could be Sol. Not only is she 100% raw earth magic but I also feel like it would balance her out a bit having a male spirit attached to her and that’s where the wisdom side of the Lorax/Phil could kick in and help her not only improve as a mage but also as a person helping her not see things so one sided. You notice, even though the Blue Rose Knights are an all girl squad… Sol is the only one that goes to that much of a degree in despising men; everyone else on the squad detests men on the surface but for the most part not truly. Charlotte keeps up the façade of detesting men to both appear strong for her squad ladies but also to mask her own insecurities. Sol, while she has gotten a little better since her initial introduction, is the only one who barely tolerates men… the only one who’s depicted as not having a façade and genuinely detests all men with a few exceptions. Having a male spirit like character who does not take her BS (*shin kick💥*) but also offers her wisdom and guidance that helps her grow as a person would be phenomenal for her character overall.

I find Nozel to be the more interesting outcome (NO! not just because I’m a Nozel simp… who told you that? They lie) but either of these characters would be interesting and could improve drastically in character development and as a mage having someone like this joined at the hip.

What are your thoughts?

– Grimoire_Girl📚

OKay, okay *takes a moment* (Also: did I just stop what I was doing, just to read and reply to this? .... Maybe)

I'd like to platonically kiss you on the mouth (with your consent ofc, because consent is a big thing on this blog), because I love this. Okay the Fue simp in me was hoping to have more of him, but in the end I didn't even mind. And can I just say that I love, lovelovelove the idea of Nozel getting the Elemental Spirit of Earth.

The theory is made *so* *much* *better* by the mental image of him (supposedly 'him') being a Lorax/Phil (from now on, let's call him Phorax). Because can you just imagine this duo?! Nozel, our lovely tsun-tsun who is in need of a big, warm hug and therapy. (Like Nozel, sweetie, I know that there aren't many therapists around, but you need to talk to someone.)

I'm also thinking that since it's probable that there'll be the 2-2 divide between boy/girl spirits, because I kinda agree with you on Sal being a boy (I'm aware of Shrek 2, but unfortunately I have no answers, but I laughed *so hard* while reading that), if there'll be a divide between the Spirit forms that have wings. Because I can't see the Earth Spirit giving a flying Spirit Dive form.

I mean, what, everyone else, aka the rest 3 spirit owners can rise to the skies and then Nozel is left behind like a plucked chicken? (I'm so, so sorry for that comparison, but ain't no one leaving him behind! Nozel. Needs. To. Be. Included.) I don't think that's fair. So, it could very well be that the two else give a "grounded" Spirit form, and Bell and Undine give a flying form.

Aaaanyways... I do like your theory/thoughts on how Undine came to be. And I could very well see that to be canon.

I, honestly, have nothing further to add at this point. Because this is brilliant. I love this.

But Tabata please, give us a tiny bit more lore. Please? A pretty please

#grimoire girl #black clover theories #lovely people #this is gold #I'll be thinking about this all day

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lustbile-archive · 4 years

Text

Want To Request a Song?

JohnnyxReader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary/Warning: the third installment of the club x series. Full on public sex and exhibitionism, knife/blood play, and can border on being degrading so read at your own risk. This is also the one best at explaining what tf is going on in club x

Apart of my Club X series: Masterlist

You knew what Club X was way before you even walked through its doors.

A friend of a friend let the details of the gritty part of town spill from her lips when you had gotten together to have drinks and trade gossip in the safety of her apartment. You were equally as guilty of letting your lips loosen from the alcohol swimming in your veins, and you let this girl you knew very little about in on your secret that it had been a while since you had last gotten any. An even longer time since anyone had made you properly come. Why you let her in on such intimate details about your sex life was a mystery, but the advice she shared in response didn’t hurt in the slightest.

“There’s this club you know,” she had said, in a tone that was meant to be a whisper but fell a little short. Her nails that were decorated in chipping polish brushed comfortingly across your shoulder as she wiggled her eyebrows at you, “i’ve only been a few times, but it’s where you need to go if you’re in a desperate need for a fucking.”

You giggled at her choice words, your eyes rolling in disbelief, “so a sex club hm? I don’t know about that.”

“No, no, no,” her words slurred as she returned your laughter, clearly pleased with your doubt, “it’s better than just a sex club. See, you go and it’s like the universe creates the exact person you need right when you walk in.”

“The universe hm?”

“Yeaaaahh. The universe…” her eyes squint as her thoughts drift off momentarily, “like you walk in and they just find you. They find you and it’s like they put this spell on you. It makes you so hot like instantly, and then you’re down to business right then and there.”

“Right then and there?!” you have to admit that you’re humoring her at this point, but you’re still a little scandalized at her words, “like in front of everyone?”

“No! No, no, no,” her hands wave in front of her face like she’s swatting at an invisible bug, “I mean yeah, but it’s like they can’t even see you.”

“What they just ignore the two people just having full on sex in the middle of a club?”

“Yeah, I mean unless you want to be seen,” she explains, her face screwing up in confusion when you don’t seem to understand what she’s saying, “Listen, I can’t explain it the way they do. There’s just something that these people can do that just takes away every worry you have. You’re just there and in the moment. It’s so great you’ll just have to go or you’ll never understand.”

You humor her and let her write the address down in your phone, smiling fondly when she keeps your phone a little longer to add vulgar emojis along side the information.

And for a while that was it. The address remained in your phone, forgotten as it got buried underneath grocery lists and reminders that made little to no sense out of context. All it took for you to finally pay the club a visit was one night.

You found yourself bored out of your mind and far too horny for your own good. You were too frustrated and pissed off at the world to give yourself the satisfaction of masturbating, so instead you just sat on your phone, cleaning out your photos and notepad when you stumbled on the address paired with its mess of emojis.

Without any further thought you were up, getting ready, and calling an uber to take you to the address provided by the bubbly drunk girl. You tried to ignore the wary and judgmental glare from the driver as you pulled up on an old warehouse that was decorated with blaring red neon lights that only read “Club X: Enter at Your Own Risk.”

To say that night was a fluke was an understatement. People approached you of course, but there was no magical hypnosis that you were promised, not that you were really expecting it to actually happen. There were cute people, but no one that cut at your core enough to dull your irritation at the world. Instead you sipped at a drink someone else had graciously paid for, ogled at the pretty man working the DJ booth surrounded by his friends, and then caught another uber home with the personal promise that that would be your first, and last visit to Club X.

Well you told yourself that at least.

It was only about a week later that you found yourself pulling out an outfit and opening your uber app. You chalked it up to needing a good drink, but there was a confused nagging in the back of your mind that told you that you had no good reason for actually returning.

With a different uber driver, but a similar glare, you found yourself back at the dingy club. You sat in the same seat as before, had a new pretty face order you the same drink, as you found your glance being pulled back to the same cute DJ.

You felt some shame finding him so cute. He seemed out of place in the club. Most people here were dressed in party clothes, while he wore neutral toned hoodies, and this time a hat turned backwards. His headphone only left his ears a handful of times so he could laugh and jeer with the men that surrounded him almost like permanent ornaments. Truthfully he was handsome as hell, but other than that what was there to stare at?

You left that night with that thought pulling at your mind, and you returned multiple times after with the same thought nagging you every time.

You were becoming a regular at the club, as embarrassing as it was. Even though you had yet to experience any wild sexual magic like you had been drunkenly promised, it was like the first night your drink was spiked with a magnet that pulled you towards the building almost every weekend at this point. You hadn’t told the girl that had given you the address, and you definitely didn’t tell any of your friends. You just didn’t want them to believe that you were developing an unhealthy dependency on alcohol, even though you would never even finish one glass. And maybe if you were getting shit faced, you would understand why you kept returning, but every time you’d leave so sober that you could convince someone you hadn’t drank at all.

The first few times, you scrambled for an explanation for why you couldn’t stay away, but you always feel short. It was as if your own body was keeping a secret from your mind. It was beginning to be muscle memory they way you’d get dressed and call for an uber every time.

And you’d think with how much time you’d spent at the crowded club, watching random strangers create masses of sexual energy, you’d had seen everything, but you stiffen in confusion when you see it.

A pretty girl hopped up to the dj booth, her wild hair bouncing along with her, as the girl she was making out with only moments before giggled and squirmed in her seat. The look the DJ wears is disinterested, but aware when she leans her hands down on his table to start spilling hiccuped words in his face.

You can only see her mouth moving at a rapid pace, the music and the distance between you making her words impossible to hear. Whatever she asked prompts a gentle nod from the man, and as she prances away he moves his fingers across the knobs and switches until a new song starts to spill out of the speakers tucked into various corners of the room.

Did she request a song change? The questions runs through your mind as your eyes trace her form, your eyes only darting away when she tackles the other girl and shoves her tongue into the space of her mouth.

You had never seen someone request a song from the man, the closest thing maybe being a jab to the back from one of his friends that was a consistent character as he casually suggested something. Realistically, requesting a certain song isn’t incredibly weird, but something about the knowledge that the tall broad man standing on the platform that placed him so highly above the other bodies in the room is actually approachable was frying the nerves in your brain.

A few songs come and go by the time you’re standing up, your legs feeling as if they’re moving on their own. You’re not sure at what point between learning that you were allowed to walk up to him and you actually starting to walk towards him that you decided that you needed to get close, but the time you’re regaining your consciousness, you’re climbing the small set of stairs leading up the stage.

He seems to notice your presence before you reach him, as while you're still a bit away, his head lifts to lock his eyes onto yours. The way he smiles at you makes you stop momentarily and hesitate, one corner of his lips rises higher than the other gives his face a less than good intentioned aura. Instead of making you falter and turn back to return to the drink you had abandoned at the bar, you feel your stomach warm and turn as you pick up your steps.

Your hips bump into the edge of the table as you lean your palms flat on the top, your nails gently digging into the material as you try to form a sentence in your head. Your tongue rolls against your teeth and your lips part before he’s looking down again, but interrupting you with his own words.

“It’s about time you came up here,” he adds a dry laugh when he hears the confused noise that jumps from your chest. He ignores the quiet ‘hm?’ you offer in response before he continues, “I mean I would have made a move first but I can’t really leave my station y’know?”

He shrugs as he returns his eyes to you, clearly entertained by your confusion. Your eyes dart around his face, momentarily moving to glance at the boys that are scattered behind him either holding their own conversations or watching you two in amusement. When you look at him, he looks expectant.

One of the boys jeers at him saying, ‘fuck off John, you know they don’t know what you’re talking about.’ And even though the comment only adds to your confusion, you can’t stop the way your body warms at the spike of embarrassment it puts in you, the man in front of you only responding to the remark by digging his tongue into the inside of his cheek in irritation.

“You came here looking for trouble didn’t you?” it takes you a beat to realize he’s asking you, another moment to realize the question is meant to be suggestive, and one last one to form a response.

“I think I might be,” you feel yourself dumbly nod, as your chest gets fuzzy. Maybe this is when you finally get to experience what that girl had promised so many weeks ago. Could the dj have been your person this whole time?

“Ah ah,” he shakes his head almost disappointedly, “I need a solid yes before I can give you what you need baby. You should know that much at least.”

“I- I mean, okay,” consent you understood, but the way he says it makes your brain swim in confusion. Why wouldn’t you say yes?

“Yes. I’m looking for trouble,” you say, your own confidence finally finding its way into your words, “I’m looking to cause trouble with you.”

The smile he wears is evil, and absolutely giddy with your return of energy. He takes a few steps back from the table and gestures to his side saying, “then please, enter my office.”

You feel a jolt of energy hit you, before you’re rounding the corner of the table. You only have a second to register the sharp pain of where your hip bumped into the corner, before he’s wrapping his large hand around the back of your neck and pulling you to press his mouth against yours.

His warm breath could have been considered an aphrodisiac in the way it fills your mouth and warms your core. His other hand wraps around your waist as he backs you into the table, his hands and lips so suddenly on you is overwhelming, but not enough to distract you from the way his friends begin to start oohing at the spectacle you two put on.

What had that girl said? No one can see you unless you want them to? With the handful of boys surrounding you, you can’t help but to doubt that you can just make yourself vanish from their prying eyes, but even if you could, would you want to? You feel warm in shame, as while his tongue dips behind your teeth and explore the space of your mouth, you start to feel excited at the idea of all his friends watching you get the relief you had been craving for so long.

The moment your subconscious decided you want the boys to see you in such a vulnerable state, one of them lets out a scandalized and excited yelp, before turning to another and exclaiming, “oh shit they want us to see them. Look at that.”

The boys attached to your mouth smiles as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, a warm laugh filling the air between you, “hmm so bad aren’t you? You like to be watched?”

You whine in response, as your hands move to claw at his soft t-shirt. Your hips jump and knock into his when his fingers start to grope and squeeze at your flesh. You’re acutely aware at the way he presses his leg between yours and uses his hand to make you start grinding on his thigh.

“How ‘bout you give them a real show and bend over nice a pretty for us,” it’s not a question, but a demand as he lifts you slightly away from the table, and turns you to push your torso down flat. You try to take deep breaths, as his hands run up and down your sides until the tips of his fingers pinch the hem of your skirt.

“There we go,” he sounds overtly proud, when he flips the fabric up to lay against your back, his friends responding to the newly exposed flesh of your ass with appreciative whistles.

He steps to the side of you, his hands slipping between your hips and the table to lift them up. He uses his grip to move you side to side, shamelessly encouraging you to tauntingly move your hips for the many sets of eyes. If it wasn’t for the way your walls softly clench around nothing, you would be ashamed of the way being watched like this makes you drip.

He begins to drag the thin fabric of your underwear down, to tease not only you, but your engaged viewers. Once the fabric hits the floor, there’s a chorus of hisses and groans at the sight of you wet and excited.

You whimper at the feeling of so many eyes tracing your body, even louder when the man grabs onto the flesh of your ass to spread you for them all to see. You don’t know what comes over you when you petulantly kick the floor and let out a demanding ‘please.’

The only response you get in return is his hand running against you to check the severity of your arousal and the jeers from the boys of how, ‘Johnny got a bratty one.’

If it weren’t for the blaring music, you’d hear the metallic sound of his zipper being pulled down, the only thing you get as a warning that he had pulled himself from the restraints of his underwear, is when the leaking tip of his cock begins to dip into you.

You feel the tense strain on your muscles melt away as he presses into you. The size of him stretching you out makes you feel delirious as you’re thankful for the amount he’s managed to make you wet in such a short amount of time, as if he hadn’t you’re not sure he’d be able to fit so easily.

When his hips finally press tightly against you, he lets out a rumbled groan. His hands hold tightly to your hips as he pauses to give you both time to adjust, and you can only somewhat hear the shuffling of the others as they move in an attempt to get a better angle to watch.

His thrusts are lazy and deep as he moves against you, one hand leaves your skin and the fabric of his shirt moves away telling you he’s lifting it in his own attempt to get a better look at where he fucks into you.

Your legs part farther as you begin to desperately shake, the way he digs into every nerve inside you makes you keen, but you want nothing more than to have him move harder.

“Please John,” you beg, trying to see how his name would taste in your mouth, your own hand moving back to wrap tightly around his wrist.

“Shut the fuck up,” you barely register the pain that burns through your skin from where his open palm meets the sensitive skin of you ass. His tone was harsh, but the satisfied chuckle that not only leaves him, but also his friends, makes a dopey grin fill your face as a moan rolls off your tongue.

“Fuck look at how bad they want it,” the voice from your side tells you it’s someone else, the tone excited and bubbly as if they’re watching something a lot more innocent than a stranger get fucked in the middle of a club.

“So bad huh?” Johnny sounds almost proud at the way you and everyone reacts to the pleasure he’s giving you, “such a good little whore, taking everything I’ll give.”

Pleads and begs roll off your tongue as his harsh words fry your brain. His hips only quicken slightly before he’s grabbing your side to pull you up against him. It feels like a flash of time, when he grabs the hem of your shirt, and pulls it over your head. Once you're bare to the stuffy air of the club and your shirt is thrown carelessly over his shoulder, you're just as quickly shoved back onto the table and he’s pistoning fast and harshly into you.

His hand harshly meets you burning skin again and you squeak in response. His voice is rough as he puts all his strength into fucking you deep and he commands to no one in particular, “someone get it for me.”

His words mean nothing as the way he pulls against you starts pushing to the edge of your orgasm. You can only gasp and claw at the table when one of his friends leans closer and taps at your spine right between your shoulder blades and whatever he holds against you begins to cut into your skin.

Once his friend is moved away, he suddenly pulls out making you clench harshly and whine. You feel the trickle of blood that travels down your skin, but the sting of his warm tongue collecting the dripping red and digging into the new wound on your back. The sting is almost unbearable and makes you squirm against him, but the pain is muffled when he reaches down and begins to roll tight circles onto your neglected clit.

His fingers are unrelenting as he rushes you to your finish. The pleasure between your thighs mixing with the sharp pain against your back makes your vision begin to go fuzzy. You can only somewhat register the boyish laughs of excitement that surround you as you finally start to come.

It feels like there’s a monster inside you that claws at you nerves. Every inch of your body set on fire is so distracting, you can only yell into the air when he moves to push back into you. He thrusts only a few times before he stills against you, the warmth of him filling you making your overstimulated nerves scream.

You can only lie there as he starts to fix your clothes, harsh demands of ‘the show is over, go away’ begin thrown over his shoulder as he drags you away and back to the bar.

You sleepily lean against him as he nods at the stoic man handing out drinks. He brings you a glass of water, that Johnny presses against your chapped lips.

“You can come relax behind the booth while I work once you finish the glass,” he reassures as he pets at your damp skin, “the boys are a lot nicer than what you just witnessed I swear.”

You’re too dopey to truly register what he says as you only nod in response before babbling, “so you’re my person?”

The laugh he lets out is soft, a lot sweeter and warming that any he’d offered before, “yeah I’m your person, and you’re wild ass is mine.”

#nct smut #johnny smut #nct #johnny #nct imagines #johnny imagines #nct oneshot #johnny oneshot #johnny suh #club x

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faerune · 2 years

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🖊 🖊 🖊 🖊 + Vera 😳

🖊 Loves spicy ramen, sushi, slim jims, candy that is either sweet or sour but isn't really a chocolate person! Is singlehandedly keeping like nine take-out restaurants in Night City in business.

🖊 Has her nose pierced, multiple piercings along her ears (the left having more than the right), and has her nipples pierced.

🖊 I've slowly been fleshing out all of the individual tattoos that Vera has including: flame ring around her trigger finger, barbed wire heart, lucky you on her right front lower hip, a pistol on each hip/lower stomach, various sailor moon tattoos, a bullseye, 'blessed' on her ribcage, a female samurai surrounded by flowers on one of her arms, no-face from spirited away, a bengal tiger, a lightning bold with a crying woman inside of it in a popart style, three-headed hound, and a woman in calavera makeup.

🖊 Uses lots of emojis in her text. Sometimes, just solely texts a string of emojis and expects the other person to understand wth she's trying to get across. Needless to say, it drives most people bonkers. Jackie was one of the few who responded with another string of emojis right back :(

#thank you gab!!! sorry im finally getting around to the rest of these #oc: vera #asks

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damnedparker · 3 years

Text

velvet and sunshine

pairing: obi-wan x reader (gender neutral, no y/n)

warnings: food mentions, reader is sad, very mild general hurt/comfort

summary: college au. little to no sleep and awful professors have given you quite the day, and you need a nap. preferably in obi-wan's bed.

also posted on ao3

more self-indulgent fluff from me! i’m a one-trick pony! but i was yearning and stressed over college and i’ve screwed up my sleep schedule again so yknow here we are. i hope some of you enjoy my too sweet fluff. i would definitely write a cute little au series of this concept if i had the time <3

Oh, college. The ultimate vehicle of stress.

Your first of two classes you had on Fridays had went absolutely horrid, all on top of the fact you had gotten maybe an hour of sleep the night prior to get the homework due today done. You knew you needed to be better about procrastination, you really knew, but there's only so much blame you can put on your past self before you run out of time to catch up on the work that was stressing you out enough to put it off in the first place.

Your one, single hour of sleep had been at the cost of you having enough time to properly wake up and get ready as usual, so on top of being exhausted, you also had to deal with being around people when you felt more insecure than usual, feeling like a slob and like everyone was judging you for not having your usual makeup or outfit on. It did nothing to help your already miserable mental state.

In your first class, there was a discussion on the work due today, and the professor had taken every shot he could at putting down your contributions and opinions in the assignment. The rest of the class was completely silent as well, not knowing what to say. It was humiliating, and had gone on for around fifteen minutes, which ended up feeling like hours. After finally getting out of that class, you just wanted to curl up in a ditch and cease to exist for a while. But you had another class in around half an hour.

You sighed as you got in line at the campus market, clutching your meager excuse for lunch—some potato chips—in your arms like it was a precious treasure. It wasn’t the most fulfilling lunch, but the campus up-charged on-campus food like crazy, so you didn’t feel like wasting too much of your money on mediocre food. You would just eat later after your next class.

Just as you were imagining the lecture you’d receive from him for your poor nutritional choices, your phone buzzed with a message from your favorite person—Obi-Wan. He had sent you a simple little meme, one of those with a cat surrounded by heart emojis, accompanied with a simple “thinking about you :-).” You smiled and almost felt like crying at how sweet it was, despite this being a daily occurrence from him. That man loved his wholesome memes, and sent them regularly, and you were so thankful. It always made your day better.

But after today? The little spark of happiness didn’t last long.

After paying for your sad excuse of sustenance, you trudged out of the university center, walking slow as can be in the general direction of your next class. You really did not want to go; you could feel the exhaustion creeping up on you and you could tell you’d doze off in class, which was a nightmare waiting to happen. Although you had your best friend, Anakin, to cover for you, since he sat right next to you in that class, you just didn’t feel like dealing with any of it today. None of it.

And with that, you simply turned and started walking towards the edge of campus, toward your safe haven: Obi-Wan and Anakin’s apartment. You lived quite the ways away from campus, much too far to walk, but Obi-Wan and Anakin’s little home was just a block over. Your boyfriend had class for another hour or two, but you really just wanted a place to nap, and you didn’t trust yourself to drive all the way home. You would’ve almost certainly been hanging out with Obi-Wan later tonight anyway, so you figured he wouldn’t mind. You could have him bring you to get your car sometime later.

After some delirious walking, you finally reached the apartment complex, heaving out a sigh once you stepped in the elevator, leaning against the wall as it made its way to the second floor. Your brain was absolutely fried from the lack of sleep, stress, and emotional day you had, and you could feel yourself struggling to hold back tears from the overwhelming mood beginning to take your mind once you arrived and managed a small knock at the door.

“Oh no, is it raining?” Anakin’s brows furrowed once he let you in, figuring you were there to drive him. That’s what you always did when it was raining outside, mostly just so you didn’t have to hear him complain about his clothes being wet during class.

“No, I just- I can’t deal with another class today,” You sighed, setting your bag down by the couch and toeing off your shoes. “Obi’s not working today, right?”

“No, he should be home after class,” Anakin watched as you rounded the kitchen counter, helping yourself to a glass of water. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just having a day,” you could feel your shoulders hanging, your posture reflecting your mood. “I just need some sleep. I can’t do class the rest of today, sorry to leave you to deal with Windu alone today.” You scrunched your nose in apology, referring to your strict, and often frustrating political science professor. The man was wonderful at lecturing, but absolutely frustrating when it came to assignments and tests. He often liked to pick on Anakin for discussions, and usually you came in to save him when no one else in the class felt like talking.

“Don’t worry about it, I can handle him on my own,” your friend nodded, reaching over to squeeze your arm affectionately. “Enjoy your nap,” he collected his bag and put in an earbud, preparing for the walk to campus. “But do not eat all my snacks like last time. Obi-Wan hates Cheetos, so I know it was you.” He gave you one last playful glare before grinning and shutting the door behind him. You looked down at the counter, now alone in the quiet apartment. You felt safe here, comforted by your best friend and boyfriend’s belongings laying about. It was clear what was Anakin’s and what was Obi-Wan’s, the difference very clearly seen between objects that were tidily tucked in their places, while others were strewn about in random places. You had witnessed many fights between the two adopted brothers over things like this, and sometimes it was a wonder they were able to live alone together at all. Not to say that Anakin hadn’t insinuated you should move in with them multiple times lately, very pointedly looking at Obi-Wan while he did so. Of course you would say yes in a second, but you didn’t want to pressure your boyfriend, who was very careful about big decisions in your relationship. The two of you had been dating for almost a year now, and were practically inseparable, and he was secure in the fact that you both believed there would never be anyone else you could love as much as each other. However, you knew Obi-Wan was a very particular man, and could be somewhat traditional in his courting. You thought it was sweet. Anakin, who was already daydreaming to you about proposing to his own partner, thought it was stupid, saying you already practically live here anyway! He wasn’t totally wrong. At this point, unless Obi-Wan was at yours or you were somewhere with him, you were probably going to be found at their place.

You sighed to yourself, feeling your eyes getting heavy. You were beginning to crash from your many cups of coffee last night. You headed straight for Obi-Wan’s room after locking the front door. His room was always impressively neat, never any clothes on the floor or anything out of place, except momentarily when you had forgotten to put something away or the two of you were in the middle of something. Painted a deep blue, and decorated with various framed posters or art, along with a few framed photos, his room was very simple. It was just the right size for it to be cozy without being suffocating.

You made a pitstop at his closet, pulling a sweater off the very top of his laundry basket, the one he’d worn the day before, along with some pajama shorts you kept in his dresser for impromptu sleepovers. You changed quickly, not keen to sleep in jeans, and also wanting desperately to lay down. You crawled into his bed, snuggling under the sheets and breathing in the scent of him all around you. Sleep came not long after you settled into the blankets.

---

Obi-Wan hummed softly under his breath, a song that you had showed him a few days ago and had subsequently gotten stuck in his head. He smiled to himself as he remembered the overjoyed look on your face when he had told you how much he liked it, fumbling to get his keys out of his pocket and get in his apartment. He paused while he was hanging his jacket up, noting your bag next to the couch, along with the glass on the counter. He furrowed his brows, knowing you had class, and although you certainly had before, you rarely skipped since your professors counted absences against your grade. He dropped his bag next to yours and made his way into his room, shoulders drooping as the weight of worry escaped them. You were curled up in his bed, wearing one of his sweaters, fast asleep. It was an adorable sight, you clutching onto the stuffed bearded dragon you had won out of a claw machine at the mall on your last trip together, whom you had gleefully named Boga as you passed the gift into his arms, insisting it was for him.

Obi-Wan shucked off his pants, leaving him in a t-shirt and his boxers, before sliding in next to you. He watched your eyelashes flutter slightly; clearly you were dreaming. You mumbled something in your sleep, followed by a happy sigh, and another mumble of something that vaguely resembled his name. He could’ve collapsed in on himself from adoration purely aimed at you.Carefully, he reached over to brush a stray hair out of your face, before beginning to press kisses to your skin, first at your jaw, then cheek, forehead, nose. You began to stir at his affections, sleepily blinking open your eyes to your boyfriend smiling at you. He trailed his hand down your arm, intertwining your fingers together as you began to wake up more.

“Hi, Obi.”

“Hello, my love,” he murmured, keeping his voice soft. “Not that I don’t enjoy coming home to you in my bed, but don’t you have class right now?” Your peaceful state from just waking up seemed to crack at his words, and a lump came back to your throat at the return of your sour mood from earlier. His eyebrows furrowed at your immediate change in mood, knowing something was wrong.

“I really couldn’t handle another class today,” you rolled onto your back, moving your joined hands to lay on your stomach. Obi-Wan scooted closer to you, resting his head against his hand, propped up on his elbow as he studied your face. “Sorry, I should’ve texted you to let you know I was going to be here.”

“No apology needed, darling, you’re always welcome here,” he untangled his fingers from yours, beginning to play with your hair as you talked. You could feel tears springing to your eyes from the gentle affection, the simple relief of being around the person you loved most, and his immediate recognition of your need for comfort. Obi-Wan could read your moods almost scarily well, and he almost always knew what you needed from him to make it better. “If you want to talk about what’s made you sad, I’m here to listen. Or we can just have a cuddle and listen to music.” You managed a small smile at his offer. Always so sweet.

“Can I have all of the above?” You turned your head to pout up at him, earning a happy grin and chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Anything for my sweetheart,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, rolling off the bed to retrieve his phone from where he’d set it on his dresser. He shuffled the playlist you had made together one late night on Spotify when you couldn’t sleep, full of relaxing songs that the both of you often drifted off listening to together, since the both of you couldn’t sleep in complete silence. “Now, come here.” He almost jumped back into the bed, immediately pulling you on top of him. Your head fell into its usual spot at his neck, forehead pressed to his pulse point, which was steady and comforting. Obi-Wan wrapped you up in his arms, gentle hands sliding under your— his— sweater, rubbing comforting shapes into your lower back. You hummed contentedly.

“I might fall asleep like this instead.”

“That’s okay, honey,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. You let out a soft chuckle as his scruff tickled your forehead. “Now, tell me everything that’s wrong so I can make it better.”

As you began to detail everything that had led you to seek refuge in his bed, Obi-Wan listened patiently, humming affirmations every so often and continuing to trace lines across your back, his sweater now partially pushed up to expose your lower back. The contrast between the slight chill of the open air and his hands was pure heaven. You didn’t know how you were still talking so clearly; half your attention was busy focusing on the slight callouses of his fingertips against your skin. Everything was warm and gentle, swallowing you up in velvet and sunshine. It was an absolute miracle that you didn’t doze off by the time you finished venting, the heavy feeling dragging you down having been lifted just the slightest bit, both by letting it out and by Obi-Wan’s hold.

“That is quite the horrid day, my dear,” he affirmed. “But you made it through, and it’s over now. You’re here and you’re safe, and we can spend the rest of the night doing whatever you like. You can relax.” His arms fully circled your waist then, squeezing you to him affectionately in a hug. “Everything will be better now.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, lifting your head and slightly sitting up from your comfortable position against his chest. Your boyfriend gave you a small smile when your gazes met, leaning into your hand that was now resting against his cheek. “You’re too good for me, Obi.”

“Oh no, I’m afraid it’s the other way around,” he grinned, a bit of pink settling on his cheeks. Crow’s feet became evident around his eyes and you were absolutely crushed by how lucky you are, how much you loved this man. “It’s a privilege just to be able to make you feel better after the awful day you’ve had.” His words were completely genuine, gaze absolutely soft as he looked at you. You could have cried. You don’t know how you didn’t. Obi-Wan seemed to gather this from your long silence, and the slight shift of expression on his face. “Everything alright, angel?”

“Yeah,” you said after a moment, pressing a short, chaste kiss to his lips. He found your hand next to his head, intertwining his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hand and tilted his head in a silent are you sure? “Everything’s perfect.”

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #star wars fluff #star wars au #college au #obi-wan x reader #ewan mcgregor x reader #fluff #my fics

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

Text

Lucky Charm

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Fireman!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 2,091

Summary: Bucky rescues you in more ways than one.

Author’s Note: This is for two things: The HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club continuation of drunk drabbles and the prompt sent in below as well as the HBC’s 24 hour surprise challenge: Quarantine Heroes. I went with the Fireman AU because well, Bucky as a fireman is amazing and I have a very special one in my family. Thank you to all the amazing people out there working to keep us safe, love to you all, always! Thank you for sending in the prompt, hope you don’t mind I combined it with my story! Thank you all for reading! LOVE❤❤❤

Warnings: fluff, lots of smiling and flirting, implied smut, Bucky being a fireman, sweet fluffy fluff, DOG NOSES! :)

Walking down the aisle of the grocery store you search for your favorite cereal. Finally spotting a few boxes on the very top shelf you stop your cart and look around mumbling to yourself, “how the hell am I going to reach that?” You step on the bottom shelf and test its strength, watching as it bows under the pressure of your foot.

“Nope.” you say to yourself and back up. “Hey, doll, need some help?” You whirl around, hand over your heart as you lock eyes with one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes as you take in his gear; tight navy tee shirt, suspenders resting across his broad shoulders and chest and black protective pants. It takes you a moment to find your voice, “yes, please. I can’t reach my cereal.”

Tearing his eyes away from you he looks up, “which one can I grab for ya, doll.” He’s only called you doll twice but you’re certain you want to hear it fall from his lips for the rest of your life. A blush coats your cheeks as you murmur, “Lucky Charms.” His smile widens as he reaches up and grabs 4 boxes. “Here you go, one for you, and three for us. The guys love this stuff too.”

You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, hugging the box of cereal, “thanks for coming to my rescue.” His laugh rings through the aisle and you can’t help your own giggle from escaping. “Anytime, doll, it’s my job,” he says with a wink. “I’m James by the way, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you, Bucky. I’m y/n.” “Barnes!!! Barnes, quitcha flirting and let’s go, I’m hungry.” With one last dazzling smile Bucky bids you farewell, “pleasure is all mine, y/n, hope to see ya around.” You watch him jog off toward the other guys, the one who yelled for Bucky giving you a wink and a wave. You wave back, turning around quickly to hide your ear to ear grin.

The next morning you wake to sunshine and a cool breeze coming in through the open window. You sit up and watch your dog do her downward dog off the bed, immediately nosing you for breakfast. You both have a bite to eat then decide it’s too nice not to head out for a morning walk.

As soon as the warm sunshine hits your face you’re reminded of Bucky and his smile, warmth now flooding through your body for a different reason. You round the corner, mind far away as you keep going over your run in with the handsome fireman from yesterday.

It isn’t until you almost trip over Huckle’s leash that you hear a voice calling your name. Turning toward the sound you watch as Bucky jogs toward you, “hey y/n!!! I wasn’t sure I’d ever get your attention.” You both laugh as he bends down to pet your dog. “And who is this cutie?” he asks in his best ‘omg I love dogs’ voice. “That’s Huckle!”

He continues rubbing her chest and sides, laughing as Huckle licks his face, “I think she likes me.” Bucky finally stands and you take a moment to get another good look at him. You never thought suspenders could look so good. “She loves walks and it was such a nice morning we had to come out and enjoy it,” you explain.

“Beautiful,” he hums, his eyes looking you over. Your skin tingles under his heated gaze and you finally remember how to speak, “what are you doing out here.” He turns his head and points to the firehouse, “at work. I saw you walking by and had to say hi.”

“I’m glad you did. I hope I’m not taking up too much of your time.” He motions for you to follow him, “not at all, doll, in fact, you’ll have to come say hi to the guys now because they’ve been staring at us the whole time and I’ll get endless shit over it if I don’t introduce you properly.”

Your stomach drops, nervousness instantly taking over as you walk slowly behind him, “are you sure, Bucky, I don’t want to be in the way or anything.” This time he grabs your hand and pulls you along, “not at all, it’s a quiet morning.”

The door to the firehouse is open and you see the other firemen perched in various positions by the opening, a couple of them holding bowls of Lucky Charms. The one who winked and waved to you yesterday stands up and yells, “hey look it’s our lucky charm.” Bucky leans down next to your ear and whispers, “just ignore them, they live to tease anyone they can.”

Knowing your cheeks must be as red as the engine you dip your head and laugh, “hey guys!” Bucky stops with his hands on his hips, “ok, enough Wilson, save it for her next visit.” The whole group erupts into snickers and whistles, “you plan on having her back then, Barnes, yeah!” Bucky turns a grinning face to you, “this is the first time I’ve brought a girl around.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a bright smile, “well, I certainly feel special.” Huckle strains on her leash as she pulls you closer inside. The guys crowd around to pet her much to her glee and it gives you and Bucky a quiet moment. “So, you must live close by then,” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do, right around the corner actually, what about you?” “Just a few blocks over, makes getting to work really easy.”

The two of you notice the silence simultaneously, turning to see Huckle lying on her back, surrounded by 5 grinning guys. The one named Wilson speaks first, “well, Barnes, ask her out already. We’re all waitin’.” Throwing them the middle finger he grabs Huckle’s leash and walks you both back out into the sunshine, “so whaddya say doll, would you go out with me some time?”

Your answer is immediate, “I’d love to!” Cheers erupt from the doorway, complete with high fives and fist bumps. “How do you manage all day with them?” you ask with a sweet laugh. “It’s not that bad…. sometimes I end up punching one of them but ya know, we love each other.” You throw your head back in laughter, “I bet.”

“Can I get your number? I’ll check out the shifts for the weekend and let you know when I’m free so we can set something up.” Taking his phone from his hand you punch in your name and number, handing it back to him, “there ya go.” He looks down, the small green four-leaf clover emoji next to your name making him smile for the 100th time. “Thanks, lucky charm, I’ll talk you soon.” In a bold move you lean up and kiss him on the cheek, waving goodbye to the sounds of more cheers and whistles.

Your first date with Bucky is everything you hoped it would be, he’s sweet and romantic but all the while assertive and strong in all the right ways. You’re falling hard but you don’t want to mess it up by moving too fast. The evening ends with a heated kiss on your doorstep, Bucky reluctant to pull away from your soft lips, “I’m sorry if I took that too far, doll, it’s just…I’ve been thinking about kissing you since we met.”

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt you pull him down to your lips once again, effectively letting him know it was more than fine. When you finally separate it’s with heavy breaths and swollen lips. “Can I see you again?” he whispers, eyes darting back to your lips. “I can’t wait,” you say, giving him one more chaste kiss before backing into your doorway and slowly closing it. The last thing you see is Bucky standing there with his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes dark.

The next few days go by in a blur, work keeping you busy and your upcoming date with Bucky keeping you giddy. Bucky had a 24-hour shift on Thursday, so your date was scheduled for Saturday to give him some time to rest.

Saturday arrived and you couldn’t stop smiling. It seemed you had been doing that since you met him. Bucky showed up at your door on time and looking better than ever. The jeans he wore hugged his thick thighs perfectly and the buttons of his shirt were pulled tight across his muscled chest.

“You look gorgeous, doll.” Your heart goes aflutter in your chest, the use of the endearment never failing to make you swoon. “Thanks,” you reply shyly, taking his hand and heading out. Your second date is even better than the first, Bucky’s attentiveness something you weren’t used to. He just seems so perfect.

The end of night finds you pressed against your door, Bucky’s hard body flush to yours as he kisses you senseless. You pull away to take a breath, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, “do you wanna come in?” Cupping your cheek, he quietly asks, “are you sure, y/n? I can wait if that’s what you want.” Running your fingers under his shirt you grab the waistband of his jeans, “I want you.”

His large hands fumble with the door, finally getting it open as you two practically fall inside. Your night together is better than anything you could imagine, and you wake up to another sunny day feeling more satisfied and happier than you have in a long time.

“Morning beautiful,” Bucky whispers against your hair, pulling your naked body closer to his. “Morning, Buck,” you giggle, kissing his chest. “What time do you have to be at work?” you ask, hoping it isn’t until later. “Unfortunately, I have the early shift today, I have to leave in a few,” he says sadly.

You unwillingly untangle yourselves and watch Bucky get dressed from your bed, appreciating his body in the morning light. He leaves you with kiss swollen lips and promises to call later. The rest of your morning is spent cleaning up your apartment and as you do so you find a treasure balled up in your bed from last night.

You shower and throw it on, sniffing the collar of Bucky’s tee shirt from the firehouse. It smells so good you don’t take it off for the rest of the day. And that’s how you find yourself, Bucky’s shirt hanging off your frame as you and Huckle strut down the block toward the firehouse. He had text you only a little while ago, saying he missed you and if you weren’t busy to come down for a visit.

You quickly responded and told him you’d be there in under and hour, baking some of your famous chocolate chip cookies before heading out. As you approach the firehouse you notice the garage door is open and Bucky is leaning against the frame, legs crossed over each other and scrolling through his phone.

He looks up at the sound of Huckle’s happy bark, his smile lighting up his face. You watch as his eyes drink you in, roaming over your body from head to toe, “hey, doll.” His arm snakes around your waist and he pulls you in for a toe-curling kiss, a breathy “hi,” leaving your lips afterwards. Bucky makes sure to say hi to Huckle, rubbing her all over before looking back to you.

You watch as his eyes land on your chest, widening slightly before they darken, “what are you wearing?” he asks, voice deep. You immediately panic, looking down and realizing he is referring to his tee shirt, “oh, this? You left it this morning and it’s so soft and smells like you, so I didn’t want to take it off…. I hope that’s ok,” you ask guiltily.

He crashes you to his chest, his nose rubbing against yours. “It’s more than ok doll, I love you in it, you can keep it.” Bucky brings his lips down to yours, his tongue parting your mouth as he deepens the kiss. You don’t even realize you have an audience until the very familiar voice of Wilson resonates through the open space, “looks like Barnes finally found himself a girl!” The next comment makes you both laugh enough to end your kiss, “and she brought us cookies!” yells Parker, rushing over to grab some.

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