#and then i just went serious mode and started like begging | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oh-saints · 2 years

Text

the holiday (p.1)

george was supposed to come home and find her sister, cara, and her family. instead, he was left with a beautiful stranger until the british grand prix. with girlfriend no longer in possession and his parents going on a long overdue vacation, it was guaranteed george would have the most interesting break.

[loosely based on the film “the holiday (2006)”]

“why is something so wrong feels so right?”

george russell x architect!OC

word count: 4.2k

tw: mentions of cheating (but not the MCs); loneliness; suggestive contents; fluff? angst?

song: dreaming of you - cigarettes after sex; distance - christina perri; almost is never enough - arianna grande (feat. nathan sykes); august - taylor swift

note: JUST BECAUSE, you know? my kind of cheering myself up after arsenal lost the day before monday. there’s also tons of inaccuracy about george’s family because i believe that’s the private side of his life so i don’t wanna dive too much to that. BUT another GR63 work because watching him racing did me wonders and this is like a bonus because my first attempt to write hit 50 notes (!!), thank you so much guys xx

wisbech.

the place where he grew up, the place where his dream of becoming f1 world champion blossomed. it had been ages since the last time he came up north—his parents had moved down to south to be closer to him as his racing journey started to pick up, his siblings would always come down to his parents’ current abode whenever george was in town (or country, whichever may be the case). his sister, cara, now inherited their old house and lived there with her husband, chris, and her son, jack.

the last time he bothered to drive a long mile to the small city was when he attended jack’s christmas play two years ago, right before the pandemic brought everyone down with it. the season had already ended that time, giving him plenty of time to travel far, and his only nephew had been begging to have him at school—probably to show off to everyone his uncle was the rookie f1 driver everyone had been talking about. but he remembered vividly the calmness of the suburban as he ran his daily 10k one morning, a striking difference to the busy life he’d been leading since he turned 16.

today, he hoped the same tranquillity would wash all over him. the last thing he wanted to have right now was everyone tailing his every move, flashing camera at his face, running mouths to gossip about him—all the jazz that came with the business. he didn’t ask for forever; at least enough amount to have him focused for the next race weekend.

and surrounding yourself with your closest ones always helped. with his parents going on a long overdue trip (thanks, covid) to malta, his sister was the first person to pop into george’s mind after everything fell apart under his nose. as much as benji’s advice never failed, he really didn’t need his brother to laugh at his face first before going full-on serious brother mode, like a typical older brother would do to his younger brother. george would even try to endure chris’ dry jokes and jack’s chatterbox personality if it means that he’d get his piece of mind.

it was already a wonder how george didn’t manage to have a mental breakdown whilst driving to the countryside. he’d been expecting himself to cry, shout, scream—anything to get this heavy rock off his chest—as soon as he was away from the spotlight but he succeeded in reaching his old place just in time as the navsat’s ETA. maybe the title of “mr. consistency” was rightfully given, after all.

well, george doubted any other driver able to finish a grand prix within the top 5 after finding your girlfriend on the bed with another dick that wasn’t yours inside of her just the night before the race. like nothing happened, like it was any other race weekend.

“cara?”

weird. nobody answered him as he continued his way inside.

“chris? jack?”

it wasn’t like cara’s place at all to be this quiet and spotless. everywhere his oldest sibling went, she’d leave a trail of sunshine along her way. this house now felt… too large to be lived in, even though george knew this house had enough of space for more than 3 people.

“anybody home?”

just as george finished the sentence, the typical english cold air swept by him. he turned his head to the direction of the wind, his body went rigid at the thought someone had broken in the house and killed everyone in it like those thriller films, his fists ready to punch anyone who dared to have a go at him. but instead of a robber, his surprise came in another, entirely different form.

an alien woman was certainly not on the list of people who could shock him at that moment.

george was so shell-shocked that he didn’t know which one to digest first. the fact that there was a woman that wasn’t cara at all in cara’s pride of a backyard garden or the fact that the woman was still cantily clad in her sleepwear on a rainy english summer afternoon.

what the fuck is going on?

did he arrive on the wrong address? had cara moved from this house and he didn’t know? did something happen to cara, one that he didn’t know? with george being away so long and so often, his mother would’ve shared things with him so he didn’t feel so left out whenever all of them gathered around.

he was so torn between needing to find out the truth and needing to sit this entire thing down first.

fuck. george cursed himself for not calculating things thoroughly. knowing the press would soon get a sniff of the bombastic breaking news, george immediately texted cara his plans on seeking shelter at her house the day after he landed and turned off his phone right away for (a) safety measures as the mercedes private jet about to take off, and (b) he didn’t have the energy to entertain the badgering from his publicist as soon as he made it on the front page of daily mail.

“well, yes, richard,” the woman-in-question’s voice broke george’s reverie. she sounded so exhausted and angry at the same time. she sounded like him. “i’ve resketched the house from scratch, just as you instructed. what more do you want?”

if george wasn’t so perplexed, he’d definitely give her brownie points. there was something about established women earning off from what her brain was capable of that always nailed george in the heart. no offense to all the models he’d been involved with or all of his fellow f1 drivers’ girlfriend, though.

“with the upcoming deadline, that kind of radical change—you know what, have it your way, richard. demolish everything for all i care. i’m not going to let you ruin my holiday. have a good day.”

this time, the woman-in-question seemed like the one surprised as she turned around, only to find george’s presence looming over the glass door to the backyard. cat got her tongue for a full thirty seconds before she took a deep breath and said, “i’m sorry i didn’t see you there. i take it you must be george, cara’s brother?”

thank god she started to speak because george could feel his brain was having a shortcut circuit error. her back profile, as alluring as it was with all the gentle wind blowing her hair, didn’t do any justice to her front profile. she was breathtaking that george even missed the fact she knew who he was, the fact she might be waiting for him, and the fact that she knew cara (of which should relieve him).

“cara said you texted her you’d be coming when she already departed but couldn’t get a hold of you back, so i should be expecting you sometime today,” george was used to being complimented for having clearest eyes amongst the current f1 drivers but hers far surpassed his. if he wasn’t busy digesting the reality thrown at him, he wouldn’t mind swimming in the pool of her eye colour. “i’m raline, by the way. i’m currently on a house exchange with cara.”

everything was happening at the same time simultaneously and confusingly that george wanted to throw up. was this how aomame of IQ84 felt when she lived through two parallel universes?

“what the hell is house exchange?”

“well, for the next two weeks, she gets to live in my house back in LA, i get to live here. she said she’d try to be at the silverstone, though.”

“why?”

“because we all need some break from normalcy, i suppose?” raline shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was the most obvious answer. “i mean, our respective long-time partner cheated on us—”

“wait, what?” george’s head hit all-time worst migraine. “cara got cheated on?”

“oh, shit. please don’t tell her it came from my mouth.”

george didn’t know what happened to him the next 10 seconds. all the sudden he was already sitting on the barstool, a glass of water perching on the countertop in front of him. “you’re turning pale. are you sick? can i get you anything else?”

“is there any beer in the fridge?”

“or do you fancy a glass of whiskey?”

“now you speak my language.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

“i see you’re back on the grid.”

george plopped his body on his old bed that was now too small for him. but he didn’t mind one bit, for the bed was a legendary, silent witness of his childhood dream and the suffering he endured alone behind the 4 walls in order to achieve the life he was currently living.

“i see you didn’t tell anyone of your problem and set off to LA.”

“did ral—”

“she didn’t say anything, i presumed much,” george cut his sister off because even if raline didn’t slip off of her tongue, he’d gathered as much. going on a house exchange trip was beyond cara’s character. “what were you thinking, cara?”

“i know, i wasn’t thinking,” his sister sighed deeply over the phone. “but i know i need to get away from wisbech as soon as possible. you know, to think about everything and what i should do next.”

“like myself, in a sense,” cara agreed to george’s statement right away. her youngest brother had always found a way to conclude things simply for everyone to understand since he was a child and she immediately knew he was meant for big and good things ahead. “you know you can always talk to me, right?”

“i know. i just don’t think i can right now,” cara answered and george sensed she wasn’t saying that to dodge his initial question. “you’ll be the first to know about every single thing when i’m ready.”

“promise me?”

“i promise you, giant. but don’t tell mum anything until i do, okay?” cara didn’t need george to say anything because she knew he was nodding somewhere behind the line. “now, what happened to you?”

george managed to chug the entire whiskey contained in his glass and poured some more for the next turn. “well, my girlfriend cheated on me so now she’s my ex and that’s that.”

“oh, giant. i’m sorry to hear that,” cara took a shaky breath and if it wasn’t because of her previous plead of not going there, george would’ve insisted her to talk about it. “i wish i can share my favourite whiskey with you now.”

“you could, you know?”

“george…”

“i know, it’s why i open the bottle myself. do you mind?”

“just left some for me, yeah?” jack’s voice was heard screaming to his mum he was home. “and share some with raline. i think she needs companion as much as you do.”

“right, about ral—”

“she’s of no harm, george. i can assure you that,” jack’s voice was getting louder each passing second. “but i’m sure you don’t have that much of energy to face jack now so i’m going to call you back, okay?”

the phone call went dead before george managed to let out a response and he was, once again, back friends with silence.

he looked around, waiting for the familiar sense of pride this room used to bring—his karting trophies, junior championship photos, the likes. he rubbed his face for how suffocating it felt this time, like it burnt his lungs every time he inhaled the air around him, and he felt like screaming for help. but he knew nobody could, not when the only one he felt like he could talk to was thousands of miles away enjoying LA sun, and it frustrated him beyond belief that it strained his chest. his hands went up to the painful part of his body, grabbed a hold of it so tightly in hope it eased the pain, but all was futile.

before george realized, tears had run down his face.

and for the first time since he cried in this very room after his homeroom teacher laughed at his face for thinking his dream of becoming an f1 driver ridiculous 10 years ago, mr. consistency helplessly broke down into the abyss of despair.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

if george was any other person doing any other job than being an f1 driver, he surely would’ve missed the gentle caress raline called knocking.

“george?”

her weak attempt was enough to alert george, who’d been trained to react the fastest at everything thrown at him, awake. he knew he could jump straight up and open the door but he didn’t want to open the door looking like an absolute wrecking titanic. and the definite explanations that followed from raline.

“it’s way past dinner time,” raline continued, voice still as gentle as she was the afternoon but the information relied on was enough to make george shoot up from his bed. he turned to the clock beside his favourite lewis hamilton’s biography and it read 9:30. “your food’s getting cold.”

he held back a groan. aleix would definitely kill him for not reporting any of post-races exercise he should be doing, on top of not being contactable for almost the past 24 hours or so. not to mention his nutritionist, his team, his parents—oh god, his head hurt from the turn of events. he didn’t expect he would be knocked out cold for god knows how long. the exhaustion must’ve taken its toll physically and mentally, for the last time he over rested was the first race of his f1 career back in abu dhabi in 2019.

but fuck it, he still had another day to explain himself.

george rummaged through his closet and picked up the thick-rimmed glasses he wore once a dozen halloweens ago, when he tried to channel theodore from alvin and the chipmunk. he could only hope it did the trick this time against raline so he didn’t have to undergo the ever complex question of “are you alright?”.

“i hope you don’t mind pasta,” raline started speaking before he could reach the last flight of the stairs. “it seems like cara didn’t have a chance to do some groceries.”

“pasta sounds great,” george pulled up the high stool across the marble countertop where she was behind. “thank you so much. remind me to go to the market tomorrow.”

“i’m heating up your plate,” raline only acknowledged his previous sentence with a nod, then moved around the kitchen with cold precision, like she didn’t like to waste another second around the premise, and it scared him to be honest. “do you want some wine?”

if raline had noticed his swollen eyes and worn-out skin tone, she surely was damn good at hiding it. what she was doing now could rival angelina jolie’s the kitchen scene in mr. & mrs. smith.

“eh, sure,” raline shot him another question of white or red? before he could continue anything else. “i’ll have what you have. i don’t think my famished stomach can complain about anything that’s already served and ready to eat anyway.”

just in time, his stomach grumbled. george shot her an apologetic look at the same time she shot him a what is that? look, and the weird interaction made her laugh. george’s body warmed at the sight, not because he managed to emanate a genuine reaction out of her that was 180 completely different to his impression of her by far, but because she looked stunningly radiating. as if he’d just unlocked the laugh she kept away for so long.

as if she’d been liberated.

only then he realized he was going to share his sanctuary with someone as beautiful and confusing as raline for the next two weeks.

life really had a way to fuck you up, didn’t he?

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

next day, raline still didn’t confront him about the swell that didn’t seem to disperse from his eyes. instead, she greeted him “good morning, george!” with a sleepy smile and her gentle voice before she poured some coffee to his favourite cup, just as he walked in the kitchen after his daily cycling routine.

with her messy bun left some strands framing her facial features, a deadly combination if george had to say. so deadly he failed to notice how she could know it was him before he pulled himself up.

“i hope you don’t mind coffee in the morning,” raline put his cup in front of him, her fingers dainty and her movement seemed calculated. george found himself becoming more and more intrigued at the hot-and-cold contrast she was displaying. “or are you that stereotypical brit that drinks english breakfast tea in the morning?”

george genuinely was curious as to how raline looked like she was smiling without actually smiling. like her face was expressionless and rather cold but she radiated warm, friendly, welcoming persona he didn’t want to look away from. heck, george thought he couldn’t do so if he’d wanted to. was it her eyes? was it her pursed lips?

in fact, raline exuded an aura that only made george want to spill everything that had been wrenching his mind and heart to the table. unfiltered, uncensored. the f1 driver didn’t think he could hold himself altogether any longer and frankly, he didn’t want to anymore.

the revelation horrified him, however, for he had never encountered such a feeling towards a stranger he’d only met less than two days. towards a stranger he’d only met several days after he found his ex-girlfriend cheated on him. towards a stranger he’d only met when the wound was still fresh open. towards a stranger who shared the same kind of experience with him. towards a stranger who escaped her own pain back home. towards a stranger who also had too much already on a plate.

his heart clenched more at the thought he’d only impose more disturbances to her healing process. the meanest thing one can do to others, for him, is to impose more on other people than they can receive. the meanest thing george can do to raline was to impose her with his selfish desire that he couldn’t control in the first place.

“coffee’s wonderful,” george pulled himself away from his reverie, realising raline was waiting for his response. he reciprocated her small smile, however his was bittersweet and his insides churned at the guilt because he knew she didn’t deserve his half-hearted ass attempt to conceal his feelings. “is there milk in the fridge?”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“where have you been?”

“what the fuck!” george jumped in his place at raline’s voice, almost closing the fridge door on his fingers. “can you stop being creepy?!”

“you’d hear me asking you three times already if your airpods wasn’t blocking my voice.”

raline shrugged from where she sat on the floor, her body leaning towards the coffee table in the middle of the living room as she scribbled down something. she looked nonchalant doing so, but george could see a glint of mischief on her eyes as she did so. three days later, and he could figure out she entertained herself by surprising george whenever she could—god knows how she could know when and where he was coming from. george was almost convinced she was actually a psychic devouring a woman’s body as a disguise.

“well the other time we were in the market, i wasn’t wearing anything in my ears and you still snuck up on me,” george opened up the fridge again, remembering what he was planning to grab a bottle of water before raline scared his wits. “care to explain that?”

“you were busy with your fans, were you not?” suddenly raline sounded angry and george couldn’t help but turn around his body, afraid of what he said might be perceived wrong. she didn’t even spare a look at him as she crumpled away the paper she was scribbling on earlier before she threw it away with full force. the poor paper hit the wall before it crippled away lifelessly on the ground, joining a dozen of other papers who’d faced her earlier wrath. “anyway, where were you?”

the return of her normal, gentle voice sent george into a whirlwind. was this woman possessed or something? if he was, he’d nail the coffin on his raline-is-a- psychic theory. “i was out running. need to do my daily 10k, that’s all.”

“10k? impressive,” raline looked up from the blank white sheet to look at george. her eyes went wider and rounder as she realized he was only wearing tight biker suits. george managed to catch her turning slightly pink before she turned away, choosing the boring paper was a better view than his running attire. “how do you that daily without passing out?”

“well, i’m an athlete,” the blush wasn’t fading out anytime soon, george could conclude as much, so he decided it was payback time. he settled down right beside her on the floor, so close their knees were touching and she could silently feel his breath on the back of her ear, overlooking what she was doing. “i’ve been doing that since i was a kid.”

the drop on george’s baritone sent shivers all over raline’s body so she decided to distract herself by drawing some more architecture designs. “what kind of athlete are you?”

“f1 driver,” no, no, no, please don’t get any closer. but as they said, the more you wished for it, the more God wouldn’t have it your way. raline could feel his skin—or what she thought was his skin—brushing featherly against the shell of her ear. “what kind of artist are you?”

“i—um—i’m no artist,” raline had to gulp down her nerves before she choked on it. unluckily, while doing so, the scent of his body odour protruded her sense and she had to close her eyes to gather herself. a mix of sweat, English cold wind and morning sun, his cologne, and his natural body odour. since when he could affect her like this? “i’m an architect, actually.”

“an architect? impressive,” she could feel the tip of george’s nose moving along to the hairs towards the back of her neck and she had to grip the pencil on her hand so she could focus on something. “how does it feel to have a brain as sexy as you?”

shit. george really went to nuzzle back towards her collarbone, tracing the long horizontal bone, ever so painstakingly slowly. “how does it feel to ride a car as sexy as you?”

oh, how much george loved a banter. he chuckled against the soft skin, discreetly inhaling the Chanel hair mist she sprayed on while feeling the hairs standing up all over her body at the sensation his teeth gave as they grazed the skin. “i bet you it’s sexier when you ride me on instead.”

she released a shaky breath as george planted a hand on her exposed thigh at the end of his sentence, thanks to the oversized sweater she always wore to sleep. “george…”

as much as george enjoyed getting his payback, he didn’t expect he enjoyed enticing these kinds of reactions out of raline. she was always beautiful since the first time he laid his eyes on her but nothing beat the prettiest sight of raline aroused and gaping lightly for air under his hands’ demonstration. it didn’t help to his pride that getting this out of her only from his nose and hands, imagine how she’d be when he poured his all in.

fuck. raline was turning more and more like an addictive aphrodisiac on him.

fuck. this was why he tried to stay out of the house whenever he could. he ran 10k, he set milestones on his biking distance, he drove back and forth to the mercedes training centre down south, he trained in the local gym, he ate his lunch—ironically, the one raline always managed to pack the night before he went out to the mercedes building in the morning—at random parks on the way home. hell, he even tended cara’s plants and flowers on the backyard even though he had the shittiest hands out of all his family, just minimize his interaction to raline.

raline, in one way or another, was cara’s guest, hence he should treat a guest with outmost respect. and his father taught him to treat woman as they’re their worth.

but jesus christ, may the lord help him.

it’s because george knew raline was worth golden, it was very difficult for him to hold back. not when he knew now she could be puny under his hands, not when he knew now how her body reacted to him, not when he knew now that while she didn’t exactly say no, she was more than welcoming of his advances.

to top it all off, not when he knew in the first place he was worthy of her.

it’s always the forbidden fruit that’s so tempting, no?

but maybe, he hadn’t been selfish enough all his life for everything he truly wanted.

just as george was about to channel his inner adam, his phone’s ringtone splashed a tsunami to their faces. george pulled away and dashed out of the house as if his life depended on it.

well, maybe not his life, but certainly for his inner peace and sanity.

#george russell #gr63 #george russell imagine #george russell fic #george russell one shot #george russell fanfic #george russell x reader #george russell fluff #george russell smut #george russell angst #george russell drabble #george russell x you #oh-saints writes

101 notes · View notes

mrmallard · 4 months

Text

I didn't do a Top 5 Experiences of the year list because it's been kind of a crummy year. My TV is broken and both my Switch controllers are drifting like crazy. I haven't watched many movies, I saw John Wick 4 and the Mario movie at the cinema and I watched Withnail and I a couple nights ago. I'm working all the time, and my hours got cut for months so I'm dirt-poor.

So I'm gonna run down a couple things I liked about this year, starting with:

---

1 - My Adelaide Vacation

At the start of the year, I had ten grand in the bank. Now, in December, I'm living paycheck to paycheck.

I spent half of that money in Adelaide.

Adelaide was the one massive, fuck-off holiday where I just fucking did whatever I wanted. I saw movies. I went to bars and clubs and shows. It was the one time in my life - and possibly the only time in my life - where I could just walk into a store, say "I want that", and just buy it heedlessly. I felt like a million bucks.

At one point I was drinking with some Germans and Danes in the hostel I was staying at, and in a quest to get more beer for the group I went out in the freezing rain while wearing shorts and sandals. The next day, I had caught a serious chill - I was really boneheaded and got on a bus, and had a crisis of conscience because we had just come out of COVID, what if I had COVID, did I just doom everyone on this bus to COVID etc. So the bus stopped at a mall and (breathing as little as possible to not spread germs) I got a COVID test and some masks.

I did that COVID test in the bathroom, and I swear to god I understood how like women and girls in movies and shows felt when they were doing a secret pregnancy test. You're begging for the result not to be positive. Like I was stranded out by the Adelaide airport, I didn't want to doom anyone else to COVID if I had it. It was extremely irresponsible of me.

The test came back negative.

I still spent three days of my holiday laid up in bed with the chills and the sweats. I was gonna go on a date with a girl, my first date in my life, and I ruined that possibility because I got better on the last day of my holiday and entered full Party Mode to compensate for lost time.

I saw Counting Crows play live in Sydney, and I spent a lot of time in a place called Holey Moley where they serve cocktails in these giant trophies - I never would have done it, but I really, REALLY wanted to steal one of the trophies and take it back home with me. I had an entire trophy full of long island iced tea, and I have a picture of me holding it up with a massive demented smile on my face. It's a classic.

I also have an incredibly inappropriate story, but I won't tell it. But here are some selected pictures from the trip:

In order:

The first two pictures are of a sumo-wrestling toad I got out of a gachapon machine. The other frogs were slim and wimpy-looking, and there was a toad with a jockstrap - but the top prize, the most badass looking one, was the toad with the little flap and his arm raised.

I spent money on that gachapon ONCE.

And I IMMEDIATELY got Fightin' Joe. Top prize, first time. He was the only one that I wanted, and I just got him.

I tried to take him around and pose him places for photos, because the toy was kinda like that Sasuke meme where the toy of him is so sturdy someone can prop up a motorbike on his head by the front tyre. That first picture was taken from a hostel in Sydney, and the windowsill tilted down towards the street - if I bumped Fightin' Joe, I would have knocked him onto the sidewalk and possibly lost him forever.

The third picture is a picture of the clouds from the plane I took to Sydney. Flying is insane because you're fuckin looking DOWN at the clouds. That's awesome.

The fourth picture is a flower I spotted walking down the street. You know when you see something beautiful and you take a picture with your phone, and the picture saps all the life and colour out of it and leaves you feeling shitty? This wasn't the case. This photo is a 1:1 replica of how I saw this flower. I'm not sure what type it is, but I want to hazard a guess and say that it's a hibiscus.

The fifth picture is my CD haul from JB Hi-Fi in Sydney. Out of those nine CDs, I only knew four of them - Billy Joel, Dido, Boney M. and the Carpenters. The other five were bargain bin discs going for as low as 99 cents.

The sixth one is a sign for a place called Likuid Espresso. I posted this one on Facebook and a girl I used to have a crush on liked it - the status I left on it was "I'd hate to see solid espresso."

Tangent, there was like a corner store there that had a little side-restaurant during lunch and dinner. I had a chicken parmigiana burger, and the cheese was all over the wrapper and just messy as fuck, and it is hands down the most delicious looking burger I had ever seen. It was okay.

Pictures 7, 8 and 9 are scenic shots of places around Adelaide. The seventh picture is a pub I saw when I was out buying throat lozenges, it was the last couple days of my trip. I saw something picturesque about it, and I think I captured the look of it very well. The eighth one is the ocean out at Glenelg - which is the laziest anagram I've ever fuckin seen, but regardless. It was 3pm on the second last day of my trip, and everything was that coppery, gold-y sort of colour like when it's been raining and the sky goes all colourful. It's a shade I've never seen before, and I might never see it again.

The ninth one is a movie theatre where I saw John Wick 4 for the second time, as well as the Mario Bros. movie and the Makoto Shinkai movie Suzume for the first time. Funny story - they sold beer there, they give you bottles of beer in an ice bucket and you can take it into the movie with you. I don't remember most of the Mario movie past a certain point because I was throwing back beers the whole time, and I posted on Facebook that whoever guessed which movie I was seeing with the beers would get a souvenir from Adelaide. Someone guessed the DnD movie, but a close friend of mine hit the nail on the head first try.

At one point, I asked the staff if I could get twelve beers to see a second movie after the Mario movie. It was a ridiculous request, and I didn't expect them to actually allow a person to buy twelve beers and take them into a movie theatre - imagine the liability. What if I started yelling at the screen or something.

They didn't let me take twelve beers in to see John Wick 4.

BUT, they did let me take eight beers in. Which is still extremely ridiculous. That movie came and went, but it was fine because I had already seen John Wick 4 in Sydney. It was the last day of my trip and I was killing time before going to a karaoke bar.

The karaoke bar is its own story - I absolutely LOVED that place, so much that I went back there for a second time, and it was the last place I went before I caught a cab to the airport. Amazing bar, amazing night. I was there until 2 in the morning.

And the tenth picture is me with the long island iced tea. Again, that's an absolute pearler of a photo. I had a bar person take a bunch of pictures of me moving my face in a weird way, and this one was the clear winner. I tipped them twenty bucks for the service.

To sum it up - my vacation to Adelaide was absolutely incredible. Adelaide is a beautiful city, and it makes Canberra come off as a phony, paved-over theme park attraction of a city. There were roselias and rainbow lorikeets all over the city, I saw two lorikeets in the city centre. There were so many fun places to be, and it felt a lot less sketchy than Sydney - at least from my experience.

This really was the one big vacation I've ever had, and I might never have an experience like this again. I'm glad I went all-out for this trip. I'm glad I got to feel big for once in my life, cashed up and loose to the wind, doing anything I wanted to be happy. It was a 10/10 experience full of high points, in a 10/10 location that I loved being in. I have a fantastic time in Adelaide, and it's absolutely, undoubtedly the highlight of my entire year - and, frankly, of the entire decade so far.

#long post #tw: alcohol

1 note · View note

soubi122 · 2 years

Text

Three Truths and a Lie

One shot. Minors do not read. Bonten Mikey, smut, alcohol, mentions of drugs, murder, mentions of pregnancy, f!oral, ⚠small spoiler if you haven't read Chapter 206. ⚠

Sitting at the airport, waiting for your flight to board - the waiting made you anxious. You were flying back home for the first time in years. This was your first solo trip since college. There was trouble in paradise, your significant other was starting to become controlling every 5 minutes, he was not letting up and was begging you to come back home. The last message read ‘You’re making a mistake…’ The pit of your stomach was in turmoil. This was a last minute decision and your best friend bought a one way ticket for you, he wanted to make sure you took the time to decide. His voice was reassuring on the other line when you had no one else to lean on. “Hey, I’m about to board - I’ll call you when I land.” Your voice was shaky but determined. “Alright (Y/N), be careful, I’ll see you in a few hours.” He eased your nerves and you felt a little better as you began to board.

The plane ride was about 3 hours and you spent the time listening to music and reading. You packed light and were grateful that your best friend booked a window seat - it was nice to look at the world below. It helped take your mind off of worrying whether or not you would have a home to come back to. The apartment you shared with your significant other was starting to feel less like home as each day went by. The screaming, the fighting, the abuse was getting worse and nothing you did was ever enough. Your best friend gave you a choice, either break it off or he will do it for you. You knew he didn’t take shit from anyone and as kids, he would get into fights with the older ones and always came out as the victor. Unfortunately, due to your parents’ job relocation, you weren't able to stay by his side but would visit every now and then with family. However, you grew apart when highschool started but he would still text you or call you every now and then. When he found out you were in a serious relationship - oh boy, he wanted to know the guy’s name and address. He was protective of you.

When you called him crying at 2 a.m., he almost made the 14 hour drive to your place to beat the shit out of your boyfriend. After calming himself down, he told you to pack your things and get to the airport as your flight was scheduled to leave in less than 3hrs.

After landing, you took your phone off of airplane mode and within minutes your phone was flooded with notifications. There were 30 voicemails and 75 text messages, your boyfriend would not let you breathe. You called your best friend to let him know that you were walking towards the arrivals pick up lane and he was already there waiting for you. As you walked out of the airport, the harsh winter wind nipped at your cheeks and nose. You were looking around for a blonde with mid length hair, but instead you were approached by a male with silver short hair, he had an undercut. His face was emotionless, his eyes looked dead and it made you uncomfortable. “(Y/N), let’s go home…” This voice. ”…M-mikey?” You stutter in shock. “Who else would it be?” He responded with a small smile. You couldn’t believe your eyes, this couldn’t be Sano Manjiro - he was totally different and the light in his eyes was gone. He pulled you in for a hug and embraced you tightly. You buried your face into his neck, the collar of his jacket felt so warm and smelled like him. “I missed you.” Your heart began to beat faster, he was taller than you and his arms around your body felt heavy. He was a grown man, no longer the kid you knew and my god did he look handsome.

“I missed you too…let’s go home." He put your carry-on in the trunk and then opened the back seat door for you, you barely noticed that there were two others sitting in the front seats. “We’re getting dropped off at my place.” You nodded and greeted the two men in the front. They just looked at you and nodded. It’s like you weren’t supposed to talk to them. The drive back to his place was quiet at first but he broke the silence with a question that made you flinch. “Do you really love him?” He kept his gaze on your face, searching for any body language that would give him the truth. “I do…” Your answer made Mikey furrow his eyebrows. He was hoping you would say otherwise or at least say ‘I don’t know’. He responded with a low hum and reached for your hand. Your hands were trembling, you weren’t so sure anymore. “Your hands are trembling, why?” He was more concerned than upset. “I don’t know. Mikey, let's just get home - I don’t wanna think about this right now.” You turned away and faced the window, you didn’t want him to see the tears that were welling in your eyes.

When the car pulled into a large parking lot, your mouth gaped a bit, the building was luxurious and it was a major change from where he used to live. A low chuckle escaped from Mikey’s lips as he reached out to cup your chin and push it up to close your mouth. “You live here? Holy shit, what the hell do you do for a living?” “I run a business…” What he neglected to say was that he was the leader of Japan’s worst criminal organization - Bonten. The men in the front seat chuckled and looked back at Mikey. “Let us know if you need us tomorrow, we’ll clear our schedules, boss.” It felt weird hearing someone address him other than Mikey, captain or Manjiro. “Let’s go angel…” Hearing him call you that name again made your heart skip a beat. No one else called you that but him.

Walking into the building you felt as if all eyes were on you and Mikey. The way he walked looked like he owned the place, a flood of bows and greetings followed as he walked past the employees and tenants. “No, seriously - what do you do for a living?” You questioned as you both walked into the elevator. He just smiled at you, “I told you, I run a business.” His place was on the top floor and needed a code to get the elevator to move. After the doors opened, he walked to the end of the hall and you noticed that there were three more units on the floor. A total of 4 units on the top floor. He opens the door and lets you walk in first, you have to practically pick your jaw off the floor - it was a luxury condo with a gorgeous view. “I’m home.” Mikey says dryly, you thought he lived alone but it turns out he lives with someone else. “About time, where have you-” A man with pink hair and two scars on his lips came from around the corner of the kitchen. He paused as soon as he saw you with Mikey. His sapphire eyes were gorgeous, he was eyeing you up and down. “Sanzu, this is (Y/N). She’ll be staying with us for a while.” You let out a meek ‘hello’ and smiled at him. ”Here, let me take your jacket.” Mikey said while unzipping his coat. As you took your coat off, both men stared at you - the way your cardigan draped over you and how your tank top dipped low, exposing your cleavage made them blush. Especially Mikey, you too have grown - not just your height but your chest and ass were perfectly molded to the clothes you were wearing.

“Umm, Mikey…” You snapped them out of their daze. It made you wrap the cardigan over your chest, you caught them staring and neither of them looked apologetic. “Are you hungry?” Mikey’s question was so random, he didn’t know what to say after staring at your figure. “No, I’m ok for now. Can I use your shower? I kind of left in a hurry.” The question made their cocks twitch. “Sure, follow me…” His room was simple, just a bed, dresser and a nightstand. He had a master bath and a walk-in closet. “Here’s the bathroom, there are clean towels in the closet there - umm, I’ll be in the living room.” With that he walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. You exhaled and put a hand to your heart. What the hell just happened? Their gaze was making your core throb. You felt conflicted, you had your boyfriend back home but yet attraction was creeping up on you.

After finishing your shower, you changed into some comfy clothes - Mikey’s clothes, you had a habit of wearing his clothes as a teenager. You walked out of the room and saw 3 more men in the living room with Mikey. You notice Sanzu nudge Rindou, the man had a purple mullet, lilac eyes and a neck tattoo. The other two men turned to look at you. Another man with a neck tattoo, lilac eyes and short purple hair waved at you with a smile, Ran. The other one had long silver hair, feline-like eyes and a tattoo on the shaven side of his head, Kokonoi. You noticed that their tattoos matched. “Hello.” You said while walking towards Mikey. They returned your greeting with a smile and also eyed you up and down. “C’mere angel-are those my clothes?” Mikey asked, surprised that you chose to wear his clothes instead of your own. You nodded and smiled meekly at him. The little chuckles in the room made you blush. Mikey cleared his throat and continued. “They are the Haitani brothers, Ran and Rindou. And this is Kokonoi, they’re my business associates.” These men were handsome, you couldn’t help but blush. The sound of your phone vibrating snapped you out of your daze. You reached in your pocket and when your eyes read the name on the screen - you froze. It was your boyfriend. “I’m sorry, I need to take this call.” You walked back into Mikey’s room and closed the door. “Who’s the girl?” Ran asked with a smirk planted on his pretty face. “She’s cute…” Rindou said while glancing at Mikey. Mikey’s face was not amused. “Careful you two, looks like Mikey’s serious about this one.” Kokonoi’s tone was playful and he too thought you were cute. “She’s a close childhood friend. She’s staying with me for a while…”

In the other room, you answered his call - he was drunk and his speech was slurred. “Babe…WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU YOU? WHY AREN’T YOU HOME?” His booming voice made you flinch. “I already told you, I went back home-” He immediately cut you off with a harsh insult. “You fucking slut! You better not be with THAT man! I will fucking kill you!” “(BF/N), you’re drunk and have no idea what you’re saying.” In the background, you could hear another woman’s voice and it sounded like she was moaning, there were shuffling sounds as well. There was someone else in your home and it was like a punch in your gut. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you have someone else in our bed?!” You raised your voice and the men in the other room could hear you. “You fucking left and I had no one else to fuck!” “You piece of shit!” You hung up and sat on the floor, going through all the texts and voicemails, you saw how he pleaded and then his messages got nastier. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes. Mikey walked in the room and saw you sitting on the floor, he took a seat next to you and pulled your head to his shoulder. “What happened?” You chuckled and started tearing up. “Is it too late for me to change my answer to your question from earlier?” He knew you were regretting saying yes to his question.

“I’m going to sound like a hypocrite right now but I need a drink…” You say chuckling and wipe tears from your eyes. “You can do whatever you want angel, no one here is going to judge you.” The warmth radiating from him was soothing, it made you regret not coming back home sooner. “Thanks Mikey, you’ve always been such a good friend to me - I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend.” His body tensed, there was a slight sting in his chest - the word ‘friend’ rang in his ears. He’s had a thing for you for years. He realized it back when you both were teenagers, a summer when you visited with your family and your embrace had his heart racing. You spent many summers visiting Mikey, it was what he looked forward to the most. One visit he accidentally caught you changing, he froze and just closed the door. You were cracking up on the other side, you guys used to change in the same room all the time. It was nothing new to you - but what you didn’t realize was how your body changed. Oh boy. Up to this day he refuses to confess what he feels for you.

After exiting the room, you were met with a beer and smiles. The rest of the men heard the whole ordeal. “If you’re a friend of Mikey’s, you’re a friend to us.” Ran said while grinning at you, it melted your worries away and you felt like these men were really nice people. (Pfffftttttt….if only you knew) 5 beers in and you’re tipsy, you start to loosen up a bit. “Mikey!” You shout and jolted to your feet, making them all turn around in surprise - your face was a little pink and your eyes were glossed over. “Yes, angel?” He replied with a smile on his face, it’s been awhile since he’s seen you so happy and carefree. “It’s too quiet, can I play some music?” He nodded in approval, he didn’t care - he just wanted to see you happy. You began to play music and turned to everyone, “We need some shots!” A low whistle from Rindou could be heard, “Mikey, where the hell has she been hiding this entire time?” Sanzu asked while flashing a cocky smirk. He was ready to stop pussyfooting around and get to the real fun.

“Oh, that reminds me…” Mikey gets up to grab a couple of bottles from the kitchen. He placed three tequila bottles on the table, your eyes lit up - these were the bottles you sent him for his birthday. “You didn’t drink these?” The pout on your face made him swoon, but he didn’t want to drink them without you. “I’ve been waiting for you, kind of like our old days…” “Mikey, you drink?” Kokonoi asked, raising an eyebrow. Through all the years he’s known Mikey, he’s never seen him drink. They’ve always had a few drinks during meetings or outings but Mikey didn’t really join in on their fun. He would always sip on something else - tonight was different. It was as if you were both celebrating your freedom. “I don’t think we’ve ever tried this before.” Sanzu says, while examining the liquor bottle, opening it and taking a whiff. He began to choke, “What the fuck is it? Holy shit!” You began to laugh at him. All these grown ass men looked worried, if Sanzu questioned it, it was definitely not a good sign. “It’s my love language.” You winked at them, your answer gave a little more away than you thought.

“We finished a bottle together that one night - we blacked out and couldn’t remember anything the next morning.” Mikey chuckled and grinned, remembering how you were both lying next to each other the next morning with damp clothes and you both were a total mess. Little did he know that you remembered everything, he doesn’t remember but you both lost your virginity that night. Your face went bright red and you clasped your hands on your cheeks. “Ohhh, it looks like she remembers…” Rindou said teasingly. Mikey’s eyes went wide, you never told him the truth of what happened that night and always denied remembering. “(Y/N)? What happened that night?” He inched closer to your face and burned holes through you with his eyes. “We’ll need a shot or two before I tell you…” Your face was seriously red and your demeanor changed quickly - you went from bold to shy in a split second. “No, you need to tell me now…” He was serious. Everyone else around the table was intrigued, they’ve never seen Mikey this concerned before and it was amusing to see you all flustered.

You exhaled, “Okay, okay…” Everyone leaned in to listen, Sanzu even paused the music - the silence in the room was overwhelming. “When we turned 18 we drank the whole bottle and were just having a good time, I made you dance with me, we were talking about the future, jumped in the pool, we lost our virginity, threw up the next morning…you know - drunk things…” The words that rolled off your tongue were like a ton of bricks to Mikey. His mouth gaped and the rest of them also were in shock. “You mean we… Together? WHAT?” You flinched, it was a secret that you wanted to take with you to the grave. You took a drink straight out of the bottle. “Yep…” He was upset that he couldn’t remember anything, even more upset that you didn’t tell him - “Do you regret it?” He was worried. “Of course not!” You immediately said while cupping his face. “I’m glad it was you. I thought you didn’t see me that way and you always treated me like one of the guys so I was afraid things would get awkward if you knew the truth.” A wave of relief washed over him. He just regrets that he doesn’t remember.

“How could you not remember losing your virginity? ESPECIALLY TO HER?!” Sanzu cut in and felt a little disappointed in Mikey. He wanted to fuck you the moment he laid eyes on you. He was met with a smack upside his head, Kokonoi was trying to avoid rubbing salt in the wound but he just had to ask. “So (Y/N), you popped his cherry? This whole time we thought he was a virgin.” You giggled at that - you guys sounded like a bunch of teenagers right now. “Wait…Mikey, you haven’t slept with anyone?” His face turned bright red, these were intimate questions that he preferred not to answer out loud. “Can we not do this?” A low chuckle could be heard coming from Ran, the look in his eyes was mischievous. “Let’s play a game, shall we?” Your head perked up, you loved drinking games - especially those that involve stories.

“Three truths and a lie, those who guess incorrectly have to drink. Simple no?” He was eager to get to know you and get some dirt on everyone else. You took an empty beer bottle and placed it in the middle of the table, “Turn order will be determined by where the bottle points and will continue to the person on the left.” They agreed but Mikey was hesitant, “Come on Mikey, it will be fun!” The smile on your face, he hated to admit it but you were the only one he couldn’t say no to. You spin the bottle and the person it lands on is Ran. The turn order was: Ran, Rindou, Kokonoi, Sanzu, Mikey, and finally - you. “I’ve dated multiple girls at the same time, I hide things from Sanzu when he’s high, I give Rindou’s phone number to girls I’m not interested in and I laced everyone’s beer earlier.” The look on everyone’s faces was priceless. Sanzu looked like the world made much more sense. Rindou grinned, he balled up his fist, and said, “You’re the reason why I’ve had to change my number multiple times…?” You could almost see the steam coming out his nostrils. Everyone agreed that Ran didn’t lace the drinks or else he would have chosen another game to play. “See? Easy, no one drank this round. Your turn Rindou.” Ran just rustled some feathers.

Ran was ready to win this round, this was his little brother after all, there was no way he would guess wrong. “Alright, alright…” he clears his throat. “I almost killed someone at the age of 13, I’ve wanted to cry when getting tattooed, I fucked Ran’s girlfriends and I’ve broken the most bones during a brawl.” Your mouth gaped a bit, what the fuck happened to him as a kid?? “Pick wisely bitches…” The cocky smirk on his face was making you wonder if he actually had three lies and one truth. Sanzu immediately called out the broken bones as a lie. There was no way he’s racked up more broken bones than Ran or Mochizuki - those two always made sure to break someone’s arm or leg during a fight, if not both. Kokonoi and Mikey agreed with Sanzu. Ran called Rindou out on him fucking his girlfriends. They all turned to you awaiting your answer and the look on his face did not change - he had the same cocky smirk plastered on his face. “The ‘wanting to cry when getting tattooed’, that’s a lie.” Your face was serious, everyone was taken back - they all had a terrible time at some point during their first tattoo session.

“Everyone, take a shot - except (Y/N).” Ran whipped his head around so fast, you thought his neck was gonna snap, “Bullshit! You didn’t, those girls were wrapped around my fingers…” Oh the shit eating grin on his face was enough to make the older Haitani’s eye twitch. “I think they liked my cock better, bro.” You began laughing, “Ha! There was no way you would be bitching about a little tattoo pain if you were getting into brawls breaking bones.” You were so proud of yourself. They all huffed and took a shot, what followed were a bunch of coughs and gasps. “Fuck! That’s strong!” Sanzu retorted, sticking his tongue out. Mikey was the only one who didn’t flinch - he remembered exactly what tequila tastes like. “Next…” Rindou says while looking at Kokonoi. “I’ve had more money than I knew what to do with, I’ve been in love before, I’ve kissed a man and I’ve frequented clubs since the age of 13.” Oof, that one was kind of hard, these seemed more believable to you. Rindou and Ran agreed that him being in love was a lie. Sanzu agreed that Kokonoi kissing a man was a lie and Mikey agreed with him. You walked up to Kokonoi and placed a hand on his chest. “The money is a lie.” You were met with a roar of laughter, even Mikey laughed at you - there was no way Kokonoi would lie about money.

Kokonoi stuck his tongue out, “Men, take a drink…” They all stopped laughing and looked at him seriously. “You’ve been in love, I can see it on your face - it hurts.” They were taken back at how well you were guessing. His smile is deceptive to others but there was something in your gut that told you otherwise. “You’re next Sanzu.” You returned to your seat next to Mikey. Sanzu was smiling from ear to ear. “I’ve snorted coke out of a hooker’s ass, I’ve spent too much money on drugs, I killed Mucho and I want to fuck (Y/N).” Your body shuddered, not only at his confession to murder but to wanting to fuck you. It made your core ache. All the other’s immediately called bullshit on him killing Mucho. The guy disappeared 6 months after the Kanto incident and was never heard from again. Rumors were that he left Tokyo and was last seen in the Philippines. You were put in an awkward position, you knew he wanted you by how he eyed you up and down when you arrived but to admit it felt kind of conceded. “Umm, you don’t wanna fuck me - you don’t even know me?” “Doesn’t matter sweetheart, I want you bent over the table right now… oh, everyone take a drink.” Mikey looked at Sanzu with a serious face, “Mucho was last seen in the Philippines…you didn’t kill him.” Wrong, he killed Mucho in the very spot where the Kanto incident took place. “I did it for you Mikey, he betrayed Toman’s King…” Ran chimed in, “Whoa, whoa, whoa - there is no way your crazy ass hasn’t snorted coke out of a hooker’s ass.” It was as if the subject of murder was nothing to them.

Sanzu’s words of wanting to have you bent over the table were whirling around in your head. It was making you hot and flustered, you began rubbing your thighs together and Rindou noticed how you shifted in your seat. A wicked grin was planted on his face. “How ‘bout it (Y/N)? Wanna get bent over the table?” A light squeak escaped your lips and they all chuckled at your reaction. “You’re up next my King.” Sanzu said with a low tone, making your body tingle - he was menacing and yet so handsome. “I’ve wanted to fuck (Y/N) since I was a teenager, I regret not keeping (Y/N) here when we turned 18, I put a hit on (Y/N)’s boyfriend, I am in love with (Y/N).” This was hard, even for Bonten’s members, they all sounded believable to them. “Mikey, you didn’t put a ‘hit’ on (BF/N). You’re not that kind of person.” Again, you were being laughed at. You had no idea who these men were nor what Mikey did for a living. “You aren’t in love with (Y/N).” Sanzu said and Rindou agreed with him. Mikey has never once shown interest in a woman, those that approached him were only playthings, there was nothing there romance wise. “You don’t regret her leaving, not with how things turned out…” Kokonoi said, he knew Mikey was in love with someone but kept his distance to avoid any more personal losses. “I’m gonna agree with (Y/N) on this one.” Ran said while studying Mikey’s face - there was no way he would say something that hurtful to you. “Ran, angel - you’re right.” He turned to look at Sanzu, Rindou and Kokonoi, “Drink up.”

“You’re next angel…” You swallowed hard, Mikey’s confession just rolled off his tongue with ease. Was it the alcohol talking? Was he being serious? Now you too were feeling the liquid coursing through your veins and you decided to dive off the deep end. Go big or go home, right? “Well?” Ran said, snapping you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. “Mikey gave me my first orgasm, I have a high sex drive, I’ve said Mikey’s name out loud when I masterbated before, I got pregnant at the age of 18.” It was quiet, you could almost hear a pin drop - you opened your eyes and saw them staring at you with their mouths open. That was a lot for them to take in, they didn’t know whether to be turned on or concerned that you had a secret love child with Mikey. “Is that why you stopped visiting?” Mikey’s face was visibly hurt, he wondered why you stopped visiting after that summer you both blacked out and this could possibly be the reason why. “That’s cruel (Y/N), did you actually have a baby? Where is the baby now?” Kokonoi asked. Ran’s mind was racing, he was not expecting this much juicy intel - this was a bombshell. “You don’t have a high sex drive - or else you would have fucked Mikey and everyone else in this room by now.” Rindou said, they all agreed with him. Mikey’s hands were shaking, he couldn’t get the thought of impregnating you out of his head. “Oh for fuck sake, everyone drink - I’ve never been pregnant! I’m sorry Mikey, I didn’t mean to upset you. Everyone’s stories were so crazy that I had to match them.” You said while pulling him in for an embrace.

Everyone relaxed a bit, they were concerned that Mikey was about to lose his shit. “Game over, everyone go home…” Mikey’s tone was low and stern. He sounded pissed off, none of them questioned him, they got up and headed towards the door. “I’m crashing with you tonight Koko, just don’t kiss me…” There was an echo of a slap in the hallway as the door closed.

You released Mikey from your embrace and stepped back, “Manjiro, I’m sorry - I seriously didn’t mean to upset you.” Fuck, if looks could kill, you would be dead right now. His eyes were dark and he took a step closer, making you take another step back - your heart began beating out of your chest when he took another step forward. “You don’t fuck around with things like that…” Your eyes began to water, you’ve never seen him this mad before and the anxiety was eating away at you. Soon you were backed up into the couch and fell over. “Mikey, please, I’m sorry.” He closed the distance by pinning you against the couch, you screwed your eyes shut and flinched when he raised his hand. “Just kidding…” Mikey’s voice was mischievous and playful. You opened one eye and saw the look on his face, he was grinning at you and leaned in to place a kiss on your lips. You were confused as fuck. “I knew you were lying about being pregnant, I just wanted everyone to get out already - I wanna hear you say my name while you cum…”

He began to take your clothes off, almost ripping them off you and you couldn’t help but give in. Your body was positioned at the edge of the couch and Mikey was on his knees, face between your folds and swiping his tongue over your slit. “You taste so good, so fuckin’ good.” He groaned and began palming his cock. Your eyes were glossed over and you were panting, every swipe was making your thighs tremble. “M-mmh, fuck…” You began moaning and grinding your heat into his tongue. His eyes flickered up to see your blissed out face. He wanted to make you say his name. Without warning, he slid two fingers in your tight hole - making you throw your head back. “Ah! Mikey!” “There we go…say my name angel…” The way your walls clenched around his digits was making his cock throb. Your essence was dripping from your core and he couldn’t help but release his hardened member to begin fisting it. His moans vibrated through your pussy and it was making your coil tighten, your left hand gripped his hair and pulled him closer to your heat. “Gonna cum for me, angel?” He smirked against your skin and continued pumping his fingers in and out of you - picking up the pace.

Your free hand began to roam your breasts, pinching and rolling your sensitive nipples between your fingers. “I want you Mikey, I need to feel you again…” He began to suck on your clit and your vision was going blurry - the coil in your tummy was close to snapping. The way he curled his fingers, he was searching for your trigger and the moment he found it, your legs began to shake. Mikey began to message that soft spot over and over again and put more pressure on your clit with his tongue. Your heavy panting was an indicator that you were about to tip over the edge. “M-Mikey! Ngh..I’m cumming!” Your coil snapped and his name dripped from your lips, repeating his name as your juices coated his tongue and chin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Seeing your blissed out expression made him want you even more. Mikey withdrew his fingers and got on his feet, dropping his pants and boxers - your eyes were devouring every inch of him. He was bigger than you remember, your walls clenched in reflex and he noticed. “This time I’m making sure this stays etched in my memory…”

END

Tags: @shinichirosupremacy @bajifairyy @litle-crow @mikariko @buns-inhiding @nekoisme @erza-uzumaki @summerdasy @astrodiamond @nalyana @mjailene15 @minniettokki @lisedanie @rinrinfoxy @bakkatakoyaki @giraffeosaur @stickysaladdonkeyhero @awkwardchick87 @shinouzen

#tr smut #tokrev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers #bonten #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten mikey #manjiro sano #mikey smut #mikey sano

266 notes · View notes

imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Note

Hi. This is mine request

Y/n is a teammate of max verstappen, they are in a relationship, y/n crashes and max is worried about her, and he is gonna visit her in the hospital, and when she is released he takes care of her, with a lott of fluff thanks

You Scared Me To Death !

Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

Fandom - F1

Summary - When you get hurt, Max realizes just how much you mean to him.

Warnings - mentions of injury, fire, explosion, violence, angst, crash details.

75 laps. That's all that you had to do. Drive for 75 laps. The Bahrain Grand Prix had always been one of your favourite races of the year, and you were so excited. But that excitement had soon ebbed away, after you had missed qualifying because your car wasn't ready for the quali session. The RedBull mechanics had apologised and you had brushed them off, buy you would be lying if you said you weren't angry. It hadn't helped when your teammate and boyfriend Max qualified P1, beating the Mercedes by mere tenths of a second. You had swallowed your hurt and congratulated Max, forcing yourself to feel happy for him.

All it had done was made you determined to win the race tomorrow, even if you had to fight 19 other drivers to do so. Starting P20 on the grid sucked big time, but as Martin Brundle said, "If anyone can fight back from the back of the grid to the podium places, its Y/N L/N" and you had done it before, at the German GP the previous year, fighting back from P19 to P3, winning Driver of The Day as well.

But this race was different. There was a building intensity in the air, you felt it in the air around you. You felt tense and nervous, and you were never nervous. It scared you, but you were going to be damned if you let it show on your face. In your drivers room, you paced back and forth, trying desperately to stop your hands from shaking. Was this what anxiety felt like? you wondered, shaking your head as your heart started hammering against your chest. Far to consumed in your own panicked thoughts, you didn't see your boyfriend walk up to your door, and open it to walk inside.

Max walked into your room, expecting to see you vibing to some R&B music, or something by Rihanna. But you weren't. You were pacing, your brow furrowed and he could see the irregular rise and fall of your chest. He walked up behind you silently, before wrapping his arms around your waist, like he normally did. What he wasn't expecting was your reaction. Usually, you would giggle and let your head fall onto his shoulder, and he would kiss your neck and you two would share a moment. But not this time. This time, you jumped, and nearly fell over onto your bed. "Woah schtaje ! It's just me' he said, eyes softening in concern. "I'm sorry I didn't see you and I shouldn't have jumped, I'm sorry I'm just so klutzy today and I'm also so nervous I-" your nervous rambling was cut off by a pair of warm lip pressing onto your own, as Max's hands cupped your face, instantly calming down your nerves.

You stayed like that for a moment, before pulling away softly, and letting him press his forehead down to yours, fingers gently tracing patterns on your hip. "Why are you nervous mijn geliefde ?" he asked, as he moved his lips to your neck, pressing little kisses along the sensitive skin. "I don't know" you confessed, tilting your head back to give him more access to the expanse of skin, while he stopped at a pulse point to suck at the soft skin, earning. soft moan from you. "Then stop stressing" he mumbled against your neck, word muffling against your skin. "I can't" you replied, struggling to keep the lump in your throat fro growing. "Well," Max said, biting down onto your neck and licking the spot to soothe it, 'Let me help you calm down"

--------------------------------

20 seconds to lights out.

Your heart was thumping so hard against your chest. God, were your hands always so clammy? Was the car always so stuffy ? Was the space always so confined? Was your helmet always that tight?

Your thoughts were muddled. You knew your goal. It was simple. Get to the podium. Except, right now, that goal seemed somewhat impossible. Before you knew, the first red light was flashing, and then the second, and the third and the fourth and the fifth, and then it was 'lights out and away we go!' you sped off, immediately overtaking Magnussen in the car ahead of you. Then, you overtook one of the Williams, but you could feel your breath wavering, and your heart threatening just burst out of your chest. And before you knew it, you were overtaking Giovinazzi in his Alfa Romeo, and the sight of Grosjean's Haas came into view, "And it looks like L/N has already taken over 4 places, making her P16, and we are on lap 2 of 75! It looks like we're going to see her on the podium after, all, but all we can do is wait and see- and oh! that's a terrible, terrible crash!"

It happened so fast. One moment, you were going round the outside of the Haas, and the next the back of the Haas was hitting your front, sending you crashing into one of the barriers, your car spinning a full 360 in the process. The impact as you crashed into the barriers was so intense, you felt yourself blackout for a few seconds.

"That was a horrible crash, between, the RedBull of Y/N L/N and the Haas, I believe of Romain Grosjean. This race has been red flagged and -oh no!' The cry summed it up. Your car had just burst into flames.

------------------------------------

In P1, Max was unaware of the chaos at the back, until he looked in his rear mirrors to see something enveloping into a ball of fire. "Holy shit, whose car is that?" he asked, watching as the flames grew higher. "Um.. Max, I need you to stay calm, but its Y/N" "Are you fucking serious?!" his angry voice burst through his race engineer's headphones, making him flinch. "Is she okay?! Tell me she's okay, damn it!' "Max, I need you to come into the pit lane. We have no information on her yet. Come into the pit lane"

As the 18 other cars came into the pitman, everyone knew better than to park in the way of an anxious Max Verstappen. He jumped out of the car, running to the garage upto Christian, who was watching the screen with his eyebrow furrowed. "Is she alright? Tell me she got out?! Did she get out?!" he was practically spitting the words out, and his engineer and his trainer had to physically restrain him from going to shake Christian. "She hasn't got out yet Max, but the fire Marshalls and the medical guys are there-" "What do you mean she hasn't got out? verdomme, blijf hier niet zitten! doe iets!!"

As his race engineer manoeuvred him to his chair, he yelled at whoever was around, eyes desperately searching to screen for some sign that you were still alive. Outside the RedBull garage, the other drivers were pooling around the garage for some sign that Y/N was okay. The panic had been evident in all their radios.

Charles - "Fuck, fuck, fuck, who was that? Y/N?! Tell me she's okay!"

Carlos - "Joder, ¿quién era ese?" I just saw the car go into flames, tell me they got out okay.

Lewis - oh shit, that was a big crash, fucking hell, is she okay?

Checo- oh no, that was a big one, I hope everyone is okay!

---------------------------------

Back in the car, you felt dazed. Since when was the track this hot, and since when when was your car red ? Were you driving for Ferrari ? No, you drove for RedBull, alongside Max. Your boyfriend Max. Why wasn't he here?

And why did you feel like you were sitting in a sauna? As you begain to regain your consciousness, you felt a searing pain on your hands, and finally clearing the fogginess of your mind, you became fully aware of what was happening. This was your RedBull car. But it was on fire. Almost instantly, your body went into survival mode, ripping the half burnt straps holding your body down, and forcing your limbs to stand up. Looking down you could see your racing gloves glow before they seemed to disintegrate into black dust before your eyes, the flames licking your hands. A scream started in your chest, only to be jammed in your throat, as you opened your mouth to gasp. Big mistake.

The smoke filled your mouth and lungs, and you choked, clawing at your race suit, begging some higher power to help you. Finally, using some courage and adrenaline you didn't know you had, you pulled your body up, bare hands coming in contact with searing hot metal, as your eyes filled with tears of pain. As you jumped out of the car, you became vaguely aware of 3 or 4 people signaling and screaming at you. Too exhausted to even think, you used whatever remaining adrenaline you had to stumble to the barrier and collapse into the first pair of arms.

"Can you hear me? Are you okay? Can you tell me if you're hurt?" The questions were hurled at you from all directions, but you couldn't speak. The head marshall walked up, bracing your body, and checking for injuries. In a hurried voice he asked for the stretcher, but you shook your head. The exhaustion was setting in but you knew you had to let the others know you were okay. But he insisted, and you found yourself sitting on the stretcher instead of lying down, as a medic gently removed your helmet and peeled off the remaining burnt glove, and pressed some ice gently against your burn. Mustering up your remaining strength, you turned to one of the broadcasting cameras and flashed them a tight smile and a thumbs up.

"And as you can see, she has managed to get out of the wreckage, by God's miracle. Thank God she's walked away from that, but how, I cannot comprehend! She went barelling into the barrier and burst into flames and she walked out alive! And I can hear the cheers of the RedBull team, and I think her race engineer is in tears. I can't begin to imagine how Max Verstappen must be feeling"

------------

Max Verstappen wasn't sure how he was feeling either. He had felt fear, anger, anxiety, more fear, devastation and dread in the longest 15 minutes of his life. But you were alive. And he felt like breaking down, but he had to be strong for you. He watched your tired form on the screen, feeling giddy with relief, and ignoring the others around him, he ran to the medical hospitality center. No one stopped him.

As the white building came into sight, he heaved a sigh of relief as Michael Masi appeared in front of the cameras to give the anxious fans an update. "Y/N is alright. She's currently in recovery, and I can inform you that she is okay. She has minor burns on her hands, and is exhausted, but she will be okay. 2 weeks healing time for the burns, and some proper rest should be fine for her. That's all I know, and I would ask the media, press, social media fans, and others to give her the time she needs to cope and recover. What she has been through is traumatizing and I hope you will respect her privacy at this time. Thank you"

Seeing his hesitation, the nurse turned to the driver, "It's okay. She's fine now. She's on some painkillers and I've cleaned her burns and dressed them. She will be fine, and you can hug her or whatever you want, she won't be hurt. I've kept some painkillers on the table, she should take some again in 2 hours or so" All Max could do was nod, suddenly feeling a lump grow in his throat. With a smile in your direction, the nurse walked out of the room, leaving you alone with Max.

Max turned to nod at the race director, before hurrying through the brown door that led to the medical room you were in. When he walked in, his entire body relaxed. You were alive and safe. Seeing you sitting up in bed, a bottle of water by your side as a nurse wrapped your burnt hand in a white bandage. Looking, your tired eyes met his blue ones, as a tired smile made his way to your face. "Y/N",he said breathily, "Thank God you're alive" he said, practically running over to you, but he stopped himself from hugging, unsure of if it would hurt you.

"Hey baby". All it took was two words for him to rush towards you, gently wrapping his arms around your form, burying his head in the crook of your neck, as a gasping sob left his mouth, and you could have sworn you felt your heart shatter. "I'm okay baby, I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm okay" your mantra of "I'm okay" was soothing, as he sobbed into your shoulder. "I thought I'd lost you, you scared me to death!" "I know my love but I'm here and I'm okay" "I thought you were gone. When I saw the flames behind me I didn't even know it was you in the car. When they told me it was you I swear my fucking heart stopped, and all I could do was pray to whatever higher power exists to save you, because I'm nothing without you. If you hadn't made it, I wouldn't survive. You make me better, you help me love, and you let me heal. I love you, and I never, ever want to see you in a situation like that again"

"I love you too" you said, your eyes filling with tears as you listened to him speak. "I love you too" you repeated, gently lifting his chin so his eyes could meet yours, his tear stained cheeks and red eyes breaking your heart, as you tilted your lips to meet his. He returned the kiss with desperation, he needed even more proof that you were alive, and feeling your lips on his were a reminder that you were alive and weren't going anywhere. He kissed you with fervour, hands moving to your hair, one cupping your cheek as his thumb traced your cheekbone, your hands clutching his broad chest.

"Ouch" the soft cry made you two break apart, as you rubbed your stinging hands. "Did I hurt you?" He said, his eyes filling with worry. "No its just the burn. It'll be fine" you replied, shifting in your bed and patting the spot next to you. After a moments hesitation, he climbed in, raising the sterile white sheet and tucking the both of you in. You snuggled up to him, arms wrapping around him as you rested your head on his chest. He rested his chin on your head, one hand running through your hair, the other keeping you stable on his chest. Within seconds, you were asleep.

Looking down at your sleeping form, his eyes lingered on the white bandage covering your burn, his eyes filling again as it stood out against your skin. He hated it. It was a reminder that you had nearly died. He had nearly lost you. His train of thought was cut off by his phone ringing, his mum's caller ID flashing across the screen.

"Hi mum" "Is she okay?" His greeting was pushed aside, his mom far too concerned about Y/N. "Yes she's alright now. She's sleeping now, Yeah I'm with her now" "Y/N's mom is with me too, I'll let her know she's okay" "Thanks mum" "Don't forget to rest as well Max" his mum said, knowing full well that her son would forget about taking care of himself when it came to his love. "I will"

And he cut the line. He looked down at you one more time, pressing his lips to your forehead, and swearing to himself that he would protect you for all his life. He let his eyes close, the exhaustion finally getting to him, all his adrenaline and energy draining out his body, and finally content that you were going to be okay, he let his eyes close.

You were going to be okay.

#f1 #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 drivers x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #max verstappen x y/n

1K notes · View notes

harryhoney-bee · 3 years

Note

Okay so I’m gonna send in a few things about Estela and Harry and Y/n sense I’m bout to go to bed cause I’m not staying up for anymore of Harry’s concert

But like Estela getting hurt at the park with y/n there and Harry would go full doctor and dad mode 🥺

A 600 words concept about Estela getting hurt <3

This is singledad/nurse!h and babysitter/stepmom!reader universe.

Let's say she begged her dad to let her in the monkey bars by herself while Y/n and Harry were enjoying the moment to have a picnic in front of the playground, since they didn’t get much time to themselves. Harry heard a very high-pitched cry and he knew it was from Estela, so he ran to where she was, with Y/n close behind.

He asked what happened but Estela was crying too hard to explain, he took a look at her bloody knee and he could tell it was nothing serious, but Y/n was the one who freaked out since she doesn't understand anything about injuries.

"Oh my god, Harry! There is so much blood, let's take her to the ER, I'll drive while you go with her in the backseat and--"

"No, Y/n, it's just a scratch," he said coldly, feeling guilty for letting Estela all by herself. If he was there that wouldn't have happened. "Take her please." He said, giving Estala to Y/n to hold while he took some fresh water and baby wipes to clean her wound.

Y/n didn't get why he was mad, didn't he just say that it wasn't a serious injury? She quickly forgot about her train of thought when Estela clutched to her shirt, hiding her head on her chest.

"No daddy, no, hurts," she cried, which made Y/n want to cry too. She held Estela closer, stroking her curls as Harry cleaned her knee. “Daddy, I said no!” Estela was crying more now, feeling betrayed by her dad, because the water was making her knee sting even more.

“Lela, daddy is only making it better, alright?” Harry explains to her, his voice filled with care. “We need to clean it or else it will get worse.”

Y/n moved Estela’s head in her direction, so the little girl couldn’t see what Harry is doing. “I’m here, Estela, it’s gonna be fine. We can get ice cream on our way home, what do you think?”

“I want ice cream,” she mumbled, her sobs slowly stopping.

“Good, I’m gonna get chocolate, what about you?”

“Strawberry,” Estela said, putting her head on Y/n’s shoulder as Harry finished cleaning her knee.

“All done, my little love,” Harry put the baby wipes on the park’s garbage and threw the water bottle away. “Come with daddy now.” He went to pick her from Y/n’s arms, but the little girl only held tighter to Y/n’s body.

“No, mean!” she said, making Y/n and Harry confused. “Want Y/n now.”

The woman looked at Harry in guilt, not knowing what to do, but Harry just sighed, picking up their belongings from the grass and getting ready to leave the park. “Alright, let’s just go.”

Y/n knew he was in a bad mood, so she didn’t want to make it worse. “Hey, your dad wasn’t mean, he cared for you, I know it hurt a bit, but it was necessary,” Y/n told Estela, not wanting Harry to feel hurt.

Harry opened the car’s door so Y/n could put Estela on her car seat, the girl fussed a little, not wanting to let it go, but she gave up, knowing that sitting on the car seat wasn’t negotiable. Y/n gave Estela her bunny stuffed animal, which made the girl calmer.

Harry locked the back door of the car before opening the passenger seat’s door for Y/n, who thanked him. He then went to the driver's seat and started the car.

“So, ice cream, huh?” Harry said, looking at Estela through the review mirror.

“Yes, daddy!” Estela cheered, seeming to forget her grudges with Harry.

#harry styles #harry styles blurbs #harry singledad!h #nurse!harry #dad!h #harry styles fluff

180 notes · View notes

seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Miscommunication (pt.2)

James Potter x Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Poly! relationship.

A/N: Part 1 is here!

Word Count: 3,376

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

It had been three weeks since you had stormed out of the boys’ dorm in a scurry of anger. It had also been three weeks since you had touched, talked to, or even spared Sirius a passing glance. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even exist. Despite your dramatic exit, Sirius was confident that you’d crack soon enough and come running back to him, begging for forgiveness. But the more time that passed, the more that he was beginning to realize that might not be the case.

In a general sense, life continued on as it always had. You walked through the Hogwarts’ corridors with the three Gryffindors, laughing at James’ jokes and blushing red under Remus’ kisses. You gave all your love and time to James and Remus, not offering Sirius a drop of your attention.

He tried to ignore it. He tried to brush it off like it didn’t bother him and like it didn’t make a difference whether you were with him or not. His attempts to drown you out the way you had been drowning him out were successful at first, but it only took about a week for him to realize how much this was killing him.

In the mornings, you woke James or Remus up (depending on whose bed you slept in the night before) with bubbly kisses and sweet giggles, something that you had always done for all three of the boys’ wake up calls. Sirius had gone almost 23 days (but not like he was COUNTING or anything) since he had any kind of interaction with you.

No cuddles.

No hugs.

No kisses.

Nothing.

The whole situation put James and Remus into a bit of an awkward position. You were on great terms with the two of them, considering they hadn’t insulted you and invalidated your feelings right in your face. This was a difficult challenge to tackle, because they felt guilty for continuing to love up on you when Sirius wasn’t getting his usual share. This was a rather particular arrangement that had taken lots of trial and error to make the right adjustments. Now that the balance had been thrown off, the whole thing didn’t feel right.

James and Remus had both tried to convince you to talk things out with Sirius. They knew that deep down this wasn’t what you wanted, and things couldn’t go on like this forever. James and Remus knew Sirius better than anybody. They were fully aware that Sirius was regretting what he had done and was kicking himself for it...even if Sirius wouldn’t show it or admit to it.

Sirius was beginning to lose precious sleep over this. He tossed and turned in his bed that had grown so lonely without you. His arms felt so empty not being wrapped around you, holding you snugly to his body. Suddenly, he didn’t have anyone to help him with his Potions homework or someone to remind him about his Transfiguration exam coming up. He didn’t have the girl that completed the complex puzzle that was Sirius Black. He felt so unfinished without you.

He missed you.

But his pride was winning out.

“How’s the brat today?” Sirius questioned dryly, not even looking up from his Herbology textbook in his lap.

“Sirius.” Remus and James echoed, clearly displeased at Sirius’ cold name for you.

Over the last three weeks, Sirius would ask about you when you weren’t around and he was alone with the boys. He would ask how you were doing, but what he really wanted to know was if you had said anything about him or given any indications that you were close to giving in. James and Remus were growing impatient with Sirius. They had tried to step back, allowing both yourself and Sirius to have time to allow your fog of frustration to air out. They had hoped that Sirius would come around to realize that he had been wrong in all kinds of ways, and you both could work it out on your own.

Between stepping all over your feelings like they were a sidewalk and calling you a bitch for being rightfully upset, Sirius had one too many strikeouts on his record.

“What? If she’s going to act like a child, then I’ll treat her like one.” Sirius growled.

James crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair that he was sitting in by the common room’s fireplace. Remus watched the two of them from over the rim of his cup that contained his favorite hot tea.

“She’s hurt, Sirius. You hurt her,” James snarled, eyebrows furrowed in agitation, “I don’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you.”

“Did you not hear the things she said to me? She was totally out of line.” Sirius argued, his demeanor going rigid and his defensive mode kicking into high gear.

“Because you pushed her too hard,” Remus cut in, “She has every right to be upset.”

Sirius was shocked that they were taking your side over his. You were never allowed to speak to any of them the way you had talked to Sirius that day. You weren’t allowed to talk back, get an attitude, touch yourself without permission, as well as other rules that had been established early on in the relationship. They all took the rules very seriously, and the fact that James and Remus were brushing it off was mind boggling to Sirius.

“I didn’t push her at all. She caught an attitude with me.” Sirius remarked tossing his textbook aside.

“Because you don’t always treat her the way you should,” Remus snapped, “All she wanted was for you to listen and talk to her.”

“Do I not already do enough for her? I walk her to class, I let her sleep with me, not to mention that I fuck her pretty much whenever she wants,” Sirius pointed out, “And now I’m still not doing enough?”

James shook his head, sighing harshly. He was disappointed that he still wasn’t getting it.

“She’s our girl, Padfoot. She responds so well to Moony and me because she knows how much we love her,” James explained, “You’ve got to start treating her like you love her.”

Sirius’ hardened features went light at what James was saying. He looked between his two best friends, who were sharing matching expressions of urgency. Sirius felt a sickening feeling creeping into his stomach that he could feel all the way up into his throat. Had you gone this whole time thinking that he didn’t love you like the other two did?

“But...I do love her.” Sirius spoke, almost in a whisper.

James and Remus looked at one another briefly, a bit relieved that he was maybe starting to see clearly now.

“She doesn’t know that. You’re going to lose her for good if you don’t change some things, Pads.” Remus added once he saw that Sirius was beginning to have a serious breakthrough moment.

That surely got Sirius’ attention. That wasn’t something he wanted at all. It made his heart hurt even to think about possibly never being with you again. He had to fix this, no matter what he had to do or say.

He just hoped that it wasn’t too late.

The remorse and the contrition that he was feeling that had been building up in him over the last three weeks was finally seeping through the cracks of the surface. It was like a fire that just kept spreading and spreading until the only thing he could see were the hot, orange flames and black smoke that would suffocate him if he breathed in too hard. It was like a switch had flipped. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He didn’t care about his pride or his image or his dignity.

He just wanted you back.

So, the boys began to devise a plan. Sirius admitted that he didn’t know how to even begin apologizing to you. He wasn’t great with apologies, considering that even the word ‘sorry’ probably had only fallen from his mouth only a couple of times in his life. This was going to take some calculation and planning to get it right.

You had been doing a bang up job of ensuring that you weren’t ever alone with Sirius. You made sure that either James or Remus was by your side whenever you were in Sirius’ presence, to avoid being forced to speak to him. Remus and James were confident that they could get you two in a room alone together. That was the easy part. The hard part would fall to Sirius, which came down to the actual apology.

James and Remus knew you’d be suspicious if Sirius apologized first. You’d likely only think he was apologizing because he was touch starved and wanted sex, not because he cared about you and was terrified of losing you. In their eyes though, as long as he was honest and didn’t lose his cool, you’d be able to see his real intentions.

Remus had told you to meet him in their dorm, and that no one would be there until later in the day. That seemed pretty normal to you, so you didn’t even give it a second thought. The dorm was empty when you arrived, prompting you to slip out of your uniform and into one of Remus’ sweaters all while getting comfortable on his bed. Shortly after you were settled, the three boys congregated just outside the door, whispering in their semi-circle formation.

“You got this, mate. Just be normal and be honest,” James instructed, “I guarantee you that she’s missing you just as much.”

Sirius was nervous. Not because he didn’t know what to say or what to do, but because he had half convinced himself that you had already decided he wasn’t worth your time anymore. He couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason you had left him.

“We’ll be out here just in case you need us,” Remus piped up, “It’s gonna be fine, Pads.”

James and Remus gave Sirius reassuring grins as Sirius took a deep breath before turning the knob of the door. He entered the small dorm room, his heart fluttering when he saw you sitting on Remus’ mattress. Your head snapped up, your face full of delightful expectation for Remus, but it faded just as fast as it came when you saw it was Sirius. He definitely noticed, but tried not to take it to heart. Your eyes were locked in with his, and you could already tell something was up.

“Hey.” Sirius said plainly, and in a bit of a squeak.

“Hi.” You replied.

He was honestly surprised that you actually gave him an answer. He thought you might’ve ignored him completely. The joyous relief that he felt from you actually talking to him was almost enough to send him to his knees, pleading for you to give him another chance.

His gaze did shift to the book that was placed next to you. It was your Herbology textbook, the same one that Sirius had been studying from earlier that day.

“Studying for Herbology?” Sirius asked, but obviously that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

“Yeah,” You answered, unsure of what exactly was happening, “I was just waiting for Remus.”

Sirius nodded, avoiding the sting that burned in his chest at the reminder that he hadn’t truly seen you in almost a month. You looked so comfortable in the large sweater and the blanket that was draped over your lap. Your hair was slightly messy from the breeze outside that you had walked through to get here. Your skin was glowing from the warmth of their room and the sudden interaction you were having with Sirius.

You looked perfect to him.

He knew he needed to say something now. He needed to kick start this conversation before things got awkward and weird. Although, he never minded silence as long as he had you to occupy his every thought. All the things that he had planned to say were abruptly wiped from his mind. He was going out on a limb here, totally about to wing this. He just had to go for it.

“Can I sit?” He questioned, referring to the slight open space next to you.

You nodded hesitantly, shifting over so he could have a little more room. He sat down just about a foot in front of you, both of you turning to face each other. James and Remus were just outside the door, their ears pressed up against the door to be sure they didn’t miss anything.

Sirius looked at you for a few moments, taking in your curious, attentive behavior. He took a breath, and spoke again, but it came out as more of a ramble.

“Baby, I know I’ve hurt your feelings. I didn’t want or mean to hurt your feelings, but sometimes I just say stupid shit and then I’m too proud to admit that I said something stupid and...” He trailed off when he realized that so far he wasn’t saying anything that you didn’t already know.

This was yet another reminder that Sirius wasn’t a great talker. But he wanted to let you know the things that you didn’t already know. He wanted you to know that he was truly sorry. He was sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t worth anything to him.

He wanted you to know that you were his world.

“I miss you,” He began again, preparing for any possible reaction from you, “I’m sorry for everything I said. I’m sorry that I hurt you...I never, ever wanted to do that.”

Your silence wasn’t because you weren’t believing what he was saying or because you didn’t want to listen. You were silent because you were floored that this was happening. Never in a million years did you think that you’d be sitting here listening to a real, heartfelt apology from Sirius Black. The thought of you leaving him had really scared him, and you could see it.

“I know I’m different from Moony and Prongs. They’re a bit better at this than I am,” He admitted, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Truth be told, you weren’t really mad at Sirius anymore. You could never stay angry at him. Your whole avoid-Sirius-at-all-costs routine hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park for you either. There were several times where you were tempted to just let it go and forget about it. But now you were glad that you hadn’t done that, because you would’ve lost this opportunity to understand one another a little better.

“All I had wanted that day was to talk to you. I like talking to you,” You explained, “I just get frustrated when you don’t want to listen and the only thing you can think about is fucking me.”

Sirius sighed, his eyes diverting to his hands that were fiddling with the edge of the blanket in your lap. He had known that the other two boys were right, but hearing it come from you made him feel even more guilty.

“I know. I guess I’m just not good at talking. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just...not what I’m good at. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t important,” Sirius confessed, “But I do love you. And I don’t want to go another day without you.”

Another silence filled the room, one that had Sirius’ heart pounding in his chest. He felt like his entire life was on the line. Like, his entire fate was resting on whatever you were going to say or do next. You had every right to get up and walk out and never speak to him again. He knew he had crossed so many lines so many times that it was a wonder you were still here. He just hoped that you’d give him another chance. He hoped that he deserved another chance.

You were starstruck. You were completely touched and moved by what he had said. Maybe it wasn’t the most flawless apology ever. Maybe it was a little rough around the edges with a couple of hiccups. But deep down it was true, honest, and pure.

Just like the Sirius Black that you had come to love.

He didn’t have anything else to say, and he hoped that what he had said was enough. Your warm hand came to his face, his head lulling into your palm when you brought his worried eyes to look at you once more.

“I love you. I promise you don’t have to go without me anymore.” You smiled, accepting his apology and offering your forgiveness.

All color returned to Sirius’ face, his shoulders relaxing and his chest releasing a bated breath. You captured his lips into a needy kiss, one that was nothing short of long awaited. Sirius’ hands came to the side of your neck, his blood pumping in his ears. He had missed this.

He had missed you.

He was even more thrilled when you crawled over into his lap, his hands guiding your legs around him as he refused to let you go from his lips. Although, when the other two boys came bursting in, your hot make out session was forced to a halt. They came in as if they had no idea what was going on, fake surprised expressions plastered on their faces.

“Well, hello there.” James chided with a smirk.

“Did we miss something?” Remus asked.

You and Sirius only laughed, as the four of you crammed together on Remus’ bed. Sirius continued to pepper kisses wherever he could while you craned your head to look at James as he spoke.

“So, I guess the two of you got things worked out?” James acquired.

“We sure did.” You smiled, giggling when Sirius’ kisses brushed against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

Your lips found his again, Sirius leaning you back onto the mattress and keeping secured there. When your breathing began to get heavy and your noises became a little hungrier, James and Remus announced their exit.

“Well, I suppose Prongs and I will leave you to it.” Remus winked.

Sirius broke the kiss only to respond, but that didn’t stop you from leaning upwards to suck on his pulse point, not even phased by what Remus had said.

“You two aren’t going to stick around?” Sirius wondered, groaning as your hips rolled into his quickly hardening dick through his pants.

James shrugged.

“We’ll let it slide this time,” He said triumphantly, ushering Remus out the door, “Besides, the two of you have some catching up to do.”

Sirius let out a guttural laugh as he took a moment to look down at you. You looked so beautiful sprawled out underneath him; your lips swollen from the kissing and your eyes blown with lustful expectation. He knew he’d never be able to take you for granted again.

“My pretty girl...” He mewled, “I love you. A million times over I’ll tell you that I love you.”

“I love you, Siri,” You hummed, swiping a loose piece of hair from his forehead, “Now make me cum the way I know you know how to.”

Sirius chuckled lowly at your boldness, his pupils dilating at the flush of arousal that sent through him. You knew better than to tell him how to run his show, but he knew this was a special occasion, so he didn’t mind taking an order or two.

“Well, now, what happened to ‘sex doesn’t fix everything’?” Sirius joked.

“It doesn’t, but we already fixed what needed to be fixed by talking,” You smiled, “Now we just both get something we want.”

Sirius laughed out loud, continuing his shower of kisses and swiping your skirt off in one swift move, your body squirming with anticipation. He felt confident that things would be better now. He was more than thankful that he had another shot at this. He was happy he had you back, and the four of you could go back to normal.

And now things would be even better than before.

***

Tags: @justadreamyhufflepuff @satellitespidey @blackpinkdolan @gubleryum @gxtitobxby @risingtripletaurus

#sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black x fem!reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #james potter x fem!reader #sirius black oneshot #remus lupin oneshot #james potter oneshot #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #the marauders #the marauders x reader #the marauder x female reader #Harry Potter #seriouslysnape

1K notes · View notes

local-spoon-does-a-thing · 3 years

Text

Sickness

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader]

A/N: Here’s some more Papa Bot fic. Should I make a bonus ending/part about them arriving at the gas station or some shit like that? Also this fic got out of hand and idk how it ended up like this. Hope you enjoy!

“Ugh...hey, Optimus? Can you roll down the window? I need some fresh air.” You mumbled out and leaned your head against the door. For some reason, you felt sick to the core. That’s probably because you were, in fact, sick. Perhaps it was something you ate for dinner yesterday? You did have a rough night trying to sleep. But at this moment, you just wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle, lay on the side of the road, and perish. Your stomach was not agreeing with you at all and begged you to purge out whatever was in it. Once the window was rolled down, you immediately poked your head out and took in a deep breath. Ah, that was much better. But that still didn’t get that sickening feeling out of your stomach. Maybe a nice bottle of water would help cure you. Your hand moved towards where the cup holders would be located and attempted to grab a bottle of water. Though, there was nothing. Looking back, you saw that you didn’t even bring water with you. Oh, right, you’ve forgotten. Earlier when Ratchet had suggested that you bring a couple bottles of water for the trip, you refused and reassured him that you were fine when in reality, you were just too lazy to carry them. In defeat, your hand flopped back down and you poked your head out once more.

Currently, you and the team were traveling to another city in a different state, as it was stated that there were some Decepticon sightings located there. This was going to be your first mission with them and after countless of merciless begging to go with them, they finally agreed to let you travel with them. Ratchet and Ironhide thought that it was a horrible idea, Bumblebee was simply ecstatic that you would get to go with them, and Optimus was just too tired to deal with your tantrums like a tired father. Who would’ve thought that out of all the members of the team, you seemed to be the closest with the Autobot leader himself. Anyone else would’ve thought that you two were polar opposites. You were a simple person that liked to joke a lot and showed some signs of arrogance while Optimus was more on the serious and wise side. Little did anyone know that you two balanced each other out. He kept you grounded to reality while you made sure that he would have fun during his time on Earth. Though your adventures with them have just merely started, you can tell that you’ve made an impact on the team. Everyone seemed more on the bright side, even the grumpy medic. They were happy and that was all you’ve ever wanted. However, your stubbornness and pride proved you not to be the easiest person to handle, like now.

“Hey, Optimus? Is there by any chance that you have some water on you? Not that I need it or anything like that. Buuuut... I might need it later.”

The old ‘Bot let out a heavy sigh and the whole truck rumbled along with him. “Didn’t Ratchet tell you earlier in the morning to bring your bottles of water? We’ve said it repeatedly that this would be a long trip-”

“Okay, okay! I get it, I was just asking in case you did have them. No need to go full on mother-mode.” You cut him off mid-sentence before crossing your arms across your chest and slumping into the seat. Moments passed by and your hands dropped down to your stomach and clutched the fabric that was in the way. Okay, you seriously needed to do something about this. You felt nauseous and each second that passed by was torturous. You wanted to tell Optimus about your condition, but c’mon, this was your first mission! You had a feeling that if you were to tell him about this, the team wouldn’t bring you to anymore future missions. And the main course hasn’t even started yet since you were still traveling to the destination. But was this really worth the trouble? I mean, even outside of these missions, you would still be seeing them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, it’s just- I don’t think I’m doing too well. I think I might have the stomach bug or something ‘cause I feel like I’m gonna throw up at any moment.” You half heartedly confessed to him.

At this statement, Optimus had wanted to stop the trip abruptly and check if you were okay. Guess you could say that this was his “mother-mode” or at least close to it. Worried thoughts bubbled into his metal head that he had almost forgotten to respond to you, almost giving you an indication that he was irritated and ignoring you. He would have Ratchet check up on you but then again, he only knew about Cybertronian biology, not human.

“Hang in there, [Y/N]. There’s a gas station approximately three miles from here. We’ll take a rest there and examine you.”

He then went on to accelerate his speed and over the radio, went on to report the other members of the team about your condition. You could hear Bee’s worried buzzing, Ironhide’s sigh, and Ratchet’s grumpy grumbling of “I told you so” that was directed towards you. In response, you rolled your eyes and laid down across the seats, staring at the truck ceiling. The slight bumpiness on the road was somehow a bit soothing, but it wasn’t enough to put you to sleep. What you needed right now was a distraction. And what distraction was better than you annoying your guardian?

“Oppy.” No response.

“Timus.” No response.

“Hey, Boss Bot!” Finally, you got a response. He let out a surprised sound and you can practically hear the gears in his head turn.

“What is it?”

“I need you to distract me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You were met with silence once again. He was confused with what you wanted. What did you need to be distracted from? You weren’t really doing much other than trying to refrain yourself from puking on him. It didn’t take long for you to notice that he was confused by your request.

“Just...just ask me questions. They can be stupid or not or whatever. I don’t want to focus too much on my nausea.”

“I understand. Very well then. How are your grades in school?”

You groaned and smacked the palms of your hands onto your face. You wanted to answer any other question BUT that one. Okay, so maybe you were lagging a little behind on your subjects than the rest of your classmates, but you could fix it up with a snap of your fingers! Or, that was what you thought. You’ve been so caught up with your alien friends that you didn’t think that school wasn’t as important as saving civilian lives and all that.

“[Y/N]?” His deep voice pulled you away from your thoughts and you slid your hands down your face.

“It’s uh, it’s going...decent.” Wow, way to make yourself sound believable.

“[Y/N]...” Now there was a stern and serious tone in his voice.

“Don’t worry about it! I got it all under control. Go ahead and ask another question that’s not related at all to school.”

Once again, he let out another heavy sigh. He had a feeling that your reasoning for your grades being “decent” as you say, was because of him. He didn’t want to be the reasoning for you failing classes. What kind of guardian does that? Yes, he has the most fun spending time on you and picking up on your witty jokes, but he knew that if it ever came down to it, he would have to step back and let you focus on things that would matter in the long run. Even when it does break him.

“You need to take your school more seriously, please. You know what will happen if your parents were to find out about your grades dropping, correct? We won’t be able to see each other as much anymore. And as much as I want to be with you, I won’t hesitate to take a couple of steps back.”

That...hurt. You didn’t want to be constantly reminded of the consequences, but that wasn’t what hurt you. The fact that he said that he wouldn’t hesitate gave you a wake up call. You sat up from your lying position and looked at his radio with a panicked and disbelief look. You didn’t know what or how to respond to that. He was serious and you knew that. You looked away in shame and clutched your stomach once more. Optimus then moved his rearview mirror towards your face and saw how you looked. It broke his spark and he wanted to comfort you, but decided not to push further on the subject and change it.

“Is there anything you would like to ask that relates to me?”

You perked up at his question and had a surprised look. Honestly, you didn’t expect that at all and you didn’t even consider asking him questions. If you were to, you had wanted to try to avoid the more sensitive topics that related to the war on his planet and such questions like that.

“Hmm, you know how the Matrix-thingy chooses who the next Prime will be or something like that? Well, what were you like before you became a Prime?”

Like you were, he was caught off-guard by the question. It’s been a long while since he had spoken of his previous life. He felt a faint sense of nostalgia as he reflected on his past self. My, how much he has changed over time. Going from having a simple life to being one of the biggest roles in Cybertron history. If he were not in his vehicle form, he would’ve smiled fondly.

“My previous name was Orion Pax. At certain angles, you could say that I was more like Bumblebee: young and free-spirited. I used to work as a data clerk in Cybertron. My life was quite simple and ordinary before I heard of Megatron and came to a realization that I was not satisfied with what I was doing. That...is all I will tell for now.”

“Aww, what?! Come on, you can’t leave me hanging like that! What happened with you and Megatron? Pleaaase!”

“Some other time, tiny girl. Now, it is my turn to ask a question. Do you know what my favorite color is?”

Okay, now you were confused. Why would he go from asking a serious question to suddenly asking about his favorite color. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, he went for that one. Of course, it’s not like you were going to back down from something as simple as that. However, you had to take a moment to think. Did robots have favorite colors? Did they even have time to consider what color was their favorite? You couldn’t figure out what the answer was until suddenly, it hit you!

“Wait a minute, that’s a trick question! You’ve never told me what your favorite color was! You can’t fool me!” You accused as you pointed your finger at his radio. A deep chuckle came from the radio as you guessed right.

“Clever girl. Well in that case, I might as well tell what my favorite color is. It’s autumn orange. It gives off a warm feeling along with joy whenever I look at it. Just like whenever I look at you. It reminds me of you.”

Your eyes lit up at his words and your cheeks flushed. That...may or may not be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you. Plus, it sounded very genuine. A warm feeling swirled your insides and a sincere smile danced across your lips. Who knew that an alien from outer space could be one of the most caring people (er- robot) you knew.

“Whoa, I definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. I didn’t know you had a sappy side.” You lightly joke. “But, thank you. That was really nice of you to say. And you should show your sappy side more often.”

“Heh, I’ll think about it.”

You then raised a hand to your mouth and let out a yawn. Optimus was able to catch it and moved his rear view mirror towards you once more.

“Am I boring you already?” He asked in a fake yet barely noticeable betrayed voice. There was a hint of amusement sprinkled onto there.

And you snapped out of your sleepy trance and sat up straight, all alerted. “Wha- no no no! It was just a yawn! I’m not-”

Your words were cut off when you heard laughter from him. Yeah sure, you’ve heard him chuckle before, but an actual laugh coming from him was quite rare. You laughed along with him until it died down.

“Alright, little one. Go on and get some rest. I’ll wake you up once we get to the gas station.”

You lied down along the seats on your back and closed your eyes. As your drowsiness was pulling you into slumber, you heard the radio turn on as lofi music played on a soft volume. Now this was most definitely making you sleepy. Soon enough, you were knocked out. Optimus silently hoped that they could stay like this for at least a very long time. With the both of you in peace, traveling in the middle of nowhere while relaxing lofi hip hop was playing in the background. Yet another moment that he gets to cherish for as long as he gets to live.

#transformers x reader #transformers #optimus prime x reader #bumblebee #ratchet #ironhide #oneshot #fanfic #i love mr papa bot #bayverse #autobots x reader

475 notes · View notes

americasmarauders · 3 years

Text

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2.

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned. no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it.

words: 11,416

mastelist

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her.

Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school.

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain.

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes.

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something books couldn’t even soothe.

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head - words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him.

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at.

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours.

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite.

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth.

“Fast reader?” she asked.

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him.

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent.

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way.

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts.

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter.

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself.

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were.

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself - good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did, “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging.

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind.

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened.

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him.

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to. #

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve.

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise.

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that.

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf, “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous.

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot.

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her.

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter.

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion.

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful.

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him.

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him.

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned.

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless.

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes.

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault.

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony.

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind.

Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong.

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her.

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain.

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough.

She picked a single memory and entered it.

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened.

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought.

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said.

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation.

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started.

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it.

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him.

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her.

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him. She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help.

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves.

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused.

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before.

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her.

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering.

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily.

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid.

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

“How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves.

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad.

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible, he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to.

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her.

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain.

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else.

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks.

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes.

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk.

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return.

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently.

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it.

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head. It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding.

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be.

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.”

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it.

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards.

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet.

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person.

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day.

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically.

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold.��

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted.

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it.

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door.

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time.

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily.

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words.

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out.

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem.

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true.

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared.

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out.

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together.

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before. “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips.

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry.

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly. “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor.

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others.

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down.

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head.

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before.

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his. “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

#Bucky Barnes #TFATWS #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #one shot #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x librarian!reader #my masterlist

192 notes · View notes

orionshounds · 3 years

Text

I’ve been knee deep in dsmp lore streams and I just want to ramble about it

Dream smp lore is so good, it’s so good!!! Not only is the story itself just fascinating, but how it’s presented so uniquely through the medium of minecraft of all things is just so cool. One of my favorite parts of the lore is seeing how everyone on the smp has their own “style” they present it in, and watching them find the way they find the most enjoyment in is so cool. Literally no two streamer’s lore stream quite like each others and it’s just incredible! It just speaks to the flexibility of roleplay as an artistic medium and really shows everyone’s individual personalities.

Wilbur was dramatic as hell and wrote eloquent speeches. He started a drug operation under the guise as a country, and it lead to a revolution in which he was able to explore the spiral of a man who loses control of everything he had built. And after his arc and he wanted a break from the server? He created ghostbur, an amnesic comic relief with just enough touch of tragedy that he is still able to make heartbreaking monologues when he wants to.

Tommy is able to run around with his friends and cause as much chaos to his heart’s extent, but there is so much more than meets the eye. He is incredibly social and isn’t afraid to start conflict with a lot of people, bringing them into the roleplay. He doesn’t back down from storytelling either. His character goes through terrible situations and he fully explores the trauma that comes from those experiences. His character goes against the “stereotypical” trauma I see alot in media; instead of being shy or scared he’s reactionary, he’s angry, he’s violent, he’s depressed. I’m actually really impressed with the heavy subject matter this 17 year old teen has managed to portray (I’ve connected with it quite personally at certain points), while still being able to keep the light hearted fun that’s so intrinsic to his personality.

Tubbo isn’t really interested in serious lore as much. Even in dire moments he tells jokes and just has fun. So, in his recent lore, he just streams as normal while putting mysterious writing on screen that he doesn’t acknowledge or have to explain, which I think is just a genius work around for him to participate in lore. He still has his dedicated lore streams sometimes, and when he is in the acting zone he has some of the most powerful moments out of everyone on the server.

Ranboo, while having stake in the greater smp lore, is much more character focused. He presents his lore through long monologues and fucking heart-wrenching voice acting. He loves working in themes of horror and causing a specific feeling in the viewer. So he chooses specific music as a themes for events/characters and creates visual queues in his overlays to draw out that desired reaction. He also values improve a LOT, if something unexpected comes up he just runs with it and he has made huge changes to his lore as early as 30 min before a stream.

Technoblade, while arguably one of the most powerful people on the server, prefers a more light-hearted yet dramatic approach to lore. When Dream was at his house looking for Tommy, Techno had no problem joking around and making fun of him for being homeless. He tore down an entire nation on the server and had so much fun doing it! He’s more of an antagonist than a true villain in my opinion. And lets not forget how dedicated he is to the game, he’s cracked at the craft. He spends hours grinding and creating farms on the smp, for amazing pay offs (his several vault reveals, the withers, etc), most of which weren’t even on stream!

Karl Jacobs is extremely social, so he created Tales from the smp as a way to involve TONS of people in lore while exploring the past and future of the server (it was also a way for viewers who weren’t that well versed in dsmp lore to join and not have to worry about it!). And through this premise, he took the opportunity to develop his own character on the smp; making an incredibly tragic story of a time traveler trying to save his home while slowly loosing his memories. Not to mention the beautifully shot cutscenes of the Inbetween and the Other Side. He includes so many people behind the scenes as well, collabing with other members on lore, hiring building teams and people to make intros and credit scenes, and promoting fanart and fansongs from the community!

Quackity explores his lore through heavily scripted events and amazingly shot cut scenes. While the way he expresses his lore comes at the cost of improv, the payoff of the visuals and story is well worth it! The shots he makes of the smp is downright gorgeous, no to mention he’s the first person to include irl footage in his lore (not counting facecams)! He’s not afraid of thoroughly examining his own character, being one of the only people I can think of that shows us “past events” leading up to something that has already happened.

Badboyhalo, Antfrost, Ponk, Skeppy, Captain Puffy, Punz, Awesamdude, Hannahxxrose all work together on shared lore and the payoff is amazing! By introducing the Egg, a constant antagonistic force that constantly pulls on character’s relationships with each other, everyone is able to stream together to battle for or against the egg! There’s also plenty of room for people to do individual lore that's more intimate to their respective character. They spend hours changing vines, putting up posters, slowly shaping the smp in a way that makes it exciting to watch streams to see just what has changed everyday. Because there’s so many people necessary to tell the egg’s story, it does comes at the cost of time (the egg has been around FOREVER). However, they all work together super hard and I just admire their commitment to the story they’re trying to tell!

And Sam! He has several different “Modes” his character is in (and an entirely separate character, Sam Nook) that he gets to explore lore with. He’s a terrifying warden, he’s a money motivated businessman, he’s a conflicted lover, he’s a traumatized victim of the egg, and just so much more. Through having so many different “roles” in the rp he gets to explore relationships and plotlines with a whole array of people. Not to mention he’s absolutely cracked at redstone and has some of the most impressive builds on the server.

And Puffy! So much of her lore is calling into question the morality of the server and really makes you step back and think critically about the characters. Her character also has, in my opinion, one of the most interesting relationships with Dream, the main antagonist of the entire server, which is just fascinating to watch unfold. Not to mention she’s one of the first people to start exploring the backstory of her character!

George doesn’t exactly do lore. In fact he’s slept through so much of it it’s become a meme. And you know what? That mad man took that and ran with it. He explains his absence in the story by having his character literally being asleep through it, creating mystery where there used to just be an absence. He’s able to goof off with his friends and have borderline nonsensical streams, then at the end sucker punch the audience emotionally by “waking up” and have the viewers question just what was real and what wasn’t?

The smp has the freedom for people who want more independent lore to be able to explore their character’s that way as well!

Hbomb, Connereatspants, and Purpled don’t have a lot of lore on the smp, generally only coming on to have fun with everyone, but when they do have their moments it unfolds in very interesting ways!

Sapnap, Eret, and Schlatt maybe aren’t as active as some other people, but when they are on they actively participate in lore and have lasting impacts on the story (Ex: Eret’s betrayal, Sapnap’s visit to dream in the prison, Schlatt becoming president).

Philza mostly does his own thing, improving the server or making some bomb ass builds. He has incredibly devastating roles in lore (killing wilbur, blowing up L’manberg for the final time, starting the syndicate with Techno), but he also has quieter moments that speak to the depth his character has, such as fishing with fundy or reminiscing about his dead son and how it went so wrong. Like Techno, he doesn’t like to take lore completely seriously, often laughing no matter what’s happening or teasing chat after something big goes down, but his character is solid with a lot of potential for future lore.

Foolish has only started on his character and its already super interesting. The hints at his dark past as a “god of death” and his current conflict with the egg are intriguing as fuck. Not to mention the MASSIVE builds he does for everyone, helping to progress their lore as well.

Fundy has a lot of freedom with his character to participate however much he wants in lore. While generally he’s a trickster who loves to prank people he has enough tragedy build into his backstory he’s able to break the viewer’s heart with a flip of a switch. Not to mention his recent, almost surreal, stream that explored his character’s disturbing dreams that may or may not predict the future.

Niki is very character driven, exploring her character's grief of losing her best friend and her anger of being ignored in the very country she helped create. She has incredibly emotional moments, and even though she’s on her own building an underground city she still participates in other lore via teaming with jack manifold or the syndicate.

Jack Manifold’s lore is VERY character focused, and while he’s described his story as a “B plot that occasionally intersects with the main plot”, the story he tells is still fascinating. Being pushed aside not taken seriously his whole life, his character develops into a fun cartoony-esque villain who begs to be taken seriously, that has the depth of a truly conflicted person who is torn between wanting revenge on everyone who’s done him wrong and just wanting a friend.

Last but not least, the man himself, Dream. The most fascinating thing about his lore is that absolutely none of it is from his pov. All we know about his character is only from what we see from everyone else’s povs, and in his case it leads to a very intimidating villain! Not to mention, mans owns the damn server and yet has made himself the main antagonist! He is the only character I consider a “true villain” on the smp. His voice acting and writing is downright sinister. I could write a fucking essay on how his character’s obsession with power has led him to the point he thinks himself an unstoppable god

Everyone on this server is stunning and I love all of them!!!!!

167 notes · View notes

aggressive-positivity-network · 3 years

Note

Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

*****************

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

******************

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

77 notes · View notes