#may or may not come back to this one later but in the meantime. it's done and it's out of my wips folder

[scoonsalicious]

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

In the meantime, please enjoy this second installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the first draft that didn't make it into the final cut of the finished story! Today, I have an early version of Chapter 6: Unattached. A lot of the beginning is the same (the dinner itself), but there was a LOT I added, then removed, from the end of the chapter. Jade was going by Jewel at this point in the draft, and Tony had gifted Pocket a Ferrari Sergio as his post-Civil War apology.

Why did I scrap this section? Easy: I couldn't realistically convince myself that Nat didn't know how to drive stick shift, lol.

Since this is the whole chapter (as it was) in its entirety, it's long AF.

Enjoy!

You and Bucky arrived at the common room an hour or so later, the sound of laughter filtering out from inside.

"Sounds like it's going well," Bucky turned to you with a hopeful smile. "Try to play nice in there, okay?"

"I'm always nice," you pouted, but when Bucky gave you a pointed look, you sighed. "Fine. It goes against my better judgement," you said, adjusting the collar of Bucky's shirt, "but I'll do it for you."

The look he gave you was indiscernible. There was warmth and affection there, but also an undercurrent of sadness in it that left you unsettled. You swallowed, looking away from him. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, putting more conviction in your voice than you felt.

He took your hand, and together you walked into the common room. It wasn't hard to spot Jewel-- she was presiding smack dab in the middle of the room, telling some story that had Sam, Steve, Rhodey, Thor, and even Bruce all at rapturous attention.

"I'm going to go introduce myself real quick, then be right back," said Bucky, letting go of your hand and heading over to where Jewel had was holding court. The temperature of the air seemed to drop ten degrees without the warmth of his presence by your side.

You watched as he made his way over to stand beside Steve. In seemingly no time at all, Steve was making the introductions. Bucky took Jewel's hand, and to your surprise, he bent over and kissed her knuckles. Your mind's eye took you back to the day you'd met him, when you'd pulled your own hand back after he'd refused to even shake it.

Jewel demurred and looked away from Bucky, bashfully, before putting a hand on his chest and saying something that made Bucky laugh and caused his cheeks to blush.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself.

"What happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

"String Theory?" asked Tony, popping up behind you both with a glass of whiskey. "Seems like a heavy topic of conversation for a social gathering, ladies."

"How'd the interview go?" you asked, hoping to move the topic of conversation as far away from Bucky as possible, now that Tony was there.

"She's everything you said, and more," said Tony with a sad shake of his head. "She put on a good show, though. Cap was eating right out of her hand."

Disappointment coursed through you at his words. "Looks like he's not the only one," you murmured as you watched Jewel let out a coquettish giggle at something Bucky said.

You kept up your conversation with Tony to keep yourself from openly staring, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Your heart sank every time they shared a laugh or a joke, or Jewel leaned into Bucky ever so slightly. You found yourself tensing each time Bucky reached out and put a hand on Jewel's arm or shoulder in response to something she said-- all too familiar gestures that you'd grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of, not watching him impart on others from a distance. So much for his "be right back."

You hated yourself for feeling this way.

Eventually, Tony's personal chef, Raul, called everyone to the table for dinner and the little gathering around Jewel broke up. Normally, you would be excited-- you loved it when Raul cooked special dinners for the team, but tonight you were on edge. Following Nat and Tony to the table, you froze in your tracks while you watched Bucky pull back a chair-- your chair, the one you had sat in, next to Bucky, for every meal for the last year-- for Jewel, pushing it in for her as she sat down.

Your heart felt like it was being ripped in half. Your brain automatically began thinking up excuses you could make for leaving the room, but you knew that would only make things worse for you in the long run.

The air around you suddenly felt as though it had grown colder. Everyone around you had noticed Bucky pull out a chair for Jewel-- silently declaring to all that tonight, she was the one he wanted next to him, and not you, despite your unspoken ritual. Sam shot you a sympathetic look, and Steve, who had been getting ready to sit at Bucky's other side, moved to offer you his chair, instead, as if that would make up for Bucky's slight.

You grimaced and silently shook your head at Steve, not wanting to draw any more attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way to the only remaining seat at the table next to Nat-- directly across from Jewel and Bucky.

As you sat down, Jewel looked up at you with a bright smile. "Hi," she said, voice like honey. "I don't think we had a chance to meet yet. I'm Jewel, but you can call me 'Vixen.'"

You looked at her, confusion leaking into your features.

"I thought the two of you met when you gave Vixen her tour earlier," Bucky said, apparently remembering that you did exist, after all.

"Oh, no," Jewel (you absolutely refused to refer to her as 'Vixen,' even in your own head) said with a dismissive laugh, "they had some little bitch of an intern give me my tour. I should actually complain to Stark about her, she had an attitude."

"No, that was definitely me," you said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of your tone, "attitude and all." You had literally wasted three and a half hours of your life escorting this woman around the Tower and she couldn't be bothered to remember you? Jewel didn't even have the decency to look chastised at calling you bitchy to your face.

"They let interns have dinner with the Avengers?" she asked in disbelief, instead. "Have to say, I thought it be a little more... elite."

"Pocket's not an intern," Steve said with a laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and you were grateful to him for coming to your defense. "She's an Avenger, just like the rest of us." You gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched he had called you an Avenger.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities, but she's brilliant. She's an expert in strategy, she's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation, and she's got a black belt in Krav Maga. It's no exaggeration to say I'd be dead a couple dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You were speechless at Steve's words, your throat tightening with the emotional lump that had formed there. That may have been the kindest, sweetest thing anyone had said about you, ever, especially on the heels of Bucky's comment. Catching his eye, you mouthed a silent thank you, wishing you could convey how much his words meant to you. He winked at you in acknowledgement.

"I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the dangerous stuff," Bucky backpedaled, weakly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, impassively, until he looked away, embarrassed. He knew you only called yourself 'Avenger-adjacent' when you were being hard on yourself. He fucking knew it, because he had told you to knock it off a hundred times.

"So, Pocket's an interesting name," Jewel said, and you were momentarily grateful to her for trying to move the conversation on to something less embarrassing for you. "Did your parents, like, hate you or something?" she continued with a giggle. Well, that was a short-lived respite.

"Yeah, they did, actually," you said, completely straight-faced, "but the feeling was mutual, so no love lost there."

Jewel's mouth dropped open in shock and you had the distinct impression you'd ruined whatever power play she'd been trying to pull on you.

Nat broke into laughter next to you, and soon everyone else around you was joining in. While only a select few at the table knew the full extent of what your parents had put you through, it was no secret that you had experienced abuse at their hands, and it was second nature for you to use dark humor to help you cope with it.

As the laughter died down, the small talk started up again. You were thankful for the distraction, but your appetite was gone, which was a shame, because Raul had done an excellent job. You pushed your food around your plate, occasionally nodding along as though you were paying attention to the conversations around you.

You tried to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jewel directed at Bucky, but your eyes kept flickering over to them. You couldn't help but notice the way his body leaned in slightly towards hers when they talked. Did he do that when he spoke to you? He hadn't even said a word to you since the horrible Avengers-adjacent comment.

"So, Bucky," Jewel said, her voice low and flirty, "handsome super hero like you, you got a girlfriend?" Your eyes snapped up, watching him, sure he was going to look to you, make eye contact. Something to acknowledge what was between you, that would make you feel like you were still in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet, as him. But he didn't.

Bucky grinned, running a hand through his hair.

"Nah, no girlfriend," he said, glancing over at Jewel. "But I'm definitely open to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that hurt less than hearing the words that came out of Bucky's mouth, and you had to resist the urge to get up and leave the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere in your corner of the table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Maybe the two of you hadn't been as secretive as you'd thought.

You couldn't bring yourself to even look at Bucky anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jewel's and not yours. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but all you could hear were your own thoughts. How could he be so callous as to openly flirt with someone else in front of you? Had you meant nothing to him?

You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself against the pain that was slowly building inside of you. You knew that the two of you were never anything official, but you had thought that there was something there between you.

As the dinner continued, you couldn't shake the misery that had settled in your chest. You excused yourself with no explanation, abruptly getting up from the table, and made your way back to your room. Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, tears streaming down your face.

How could you have been so stupid? You had let yourself believe that there could be something real between you and Bucky, but clearly, you had been wrong. He was interested in Jewel and you were just a convenient friend. Being kept in a holding pattern until something better came along.

You collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow as sobs wracked your body. How could you even face him now, knowing that he had no real interest in you beyond your friendship, after all the things you had done together? You didn't know if you could bear being in the same room with him, pretending like everything was okay between the two of you.

As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the sound of your phone buzzing from your bedside table. Picking it up, you saw you had a new message from Nat.

Do you want me to kill them?

You wiped away your tears, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to offer such a straightforward solution. Despite your heartache, you couldn't help but appreciate her loyalty and fierce protectiveness.

You typed back:

No, as tempting as it might be. Thank you for offering, but I don't want you sent away for double homicide.

Her response was almost instantaneous:

I'm insulted you assume I'd get caught :)

The smiley face at the end was too much, and you actually laughed. You were so grateful to have her as your friend.

Thanks for having my back, Natty.

Any and every time, Pocket. You know that <3

Other texts started trickling in from the rest of your family. Everyone checking in to make sure you were okay, since you had left the table so suddenly and without giving a reason.

But none came from Bucky.

Your suite suddenly felt too small and hot-- you needed to get out, go somewhere that wasn't covered in memories of Bucky so that you could breathe. There was only one thing you did that always helped clear your head. You needed to go dancing.

You changed your clothes for the third time today, opting for a pair of skintight, red leather pants and a black halter top. You did your hair and put on some makeup-- just enough to mask that you'd been crying, but still enough to turn a man's head.

Shoving your phone, ID, and credit card into your back pocket, you left your room and headed back to the common room. You could have just texted Nat to ask her if she wanted to come with you, but you wanted to see Bucky's reaction to how you looked, if he even had one at all.

You were surprised to find the common room far emptier than you'd left it a little over an hour ago. It seemed as though, once dinner had ended, the gathering had broken up and people had started going their own way. Glancing around, you saw Nat standing by a window, looking out over the Manhattan skyline, but Bucky and Jewel were nowhere to be seen. You tried to ignore the rock that had taken up residence in your stomach.

"Natty," you called, getting her attention. She met you halfway across the room, a large grin spread across her face.

"Damn, girl," she let out a low whistle as she assessed your outfit. "You trying to give Barnes a heart attack?" she asked.

"No," you said, "I want to go dancing. I need to get out of my head. You want to come?"

"Absolutely, if only to keep you from making any decisions you might regret in the morning." She paused, assessing you. "He's walking her out, by the way. In case you were wondering where they were."

You had, but your stomach soured at the knowledge, all the same.

Down in the lobby, you were just about to call an Uber for you and Nat when you spotted Bucky standing off to the side with Jewel. They were standing far too close together for your liking. You hoped you could sneak by without attracting their attention, but Jewel caught sight of the two of you and began waving you over.

"Natasha!" she called (okay, so maybe she wasn't waving you over). "Come join us!"

Nat gave you a questioning look, silently asking what you wanted to do.

"Might as well," you muttered. "Night's already gone mostly to hell."

You and Nat made your way over to where Jewel and Bucky were standing.

"Did you come to say goodbye?" Jewel asked Nat, the eagerness in her voice palpable.

"Uh, no," Nat replied, obviously confused. "Pocket and I are heading out. We're going dancing."

"Oh. My. God." Jewel practically started jumping up and down. "Bucky, we should go dancing with her!" It wasn't lost on either you or Natasha that Jewel seemed to be purposefully excluding you from the conversation. Bucky, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice.

"Sorry," you said, suddenly struck with inspiration, "but the car's only a two-seater. Maybe next time."

Nat raised a questioning eyebrow at you as you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed the Tower's garage. "Hey, Carl, it's Pocket.... Good, thanks... you?... Listen, can you have someone bring my Sergio to the front entrance? I'll be taking it out tonight... I know ... Great... thanks!" You ended the call and looked to Nat. "They'll bring the car up in just a minute."

Nat couldn't hide the grin that had spread across her face. "Finally! I have been dying to get my ass into that car forever!

"What's a Sergio?" Jewel asked. "I've never heard of it before."

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Nat said, giving Jewel a tight, fake smile. "Seeing as how Ferrari only ever made six of them."

"Pocket," Bucky said, the first words he'd spoken to you since you and Nat had arrived, "can I talk to you for a minute?" He took your arm and led you away from Nat and Jewel to a more secluded section of the lobby.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and with a hint of warning behind it.

"Going dancing with Nat," you said simply.

"Come on, you never drive that car. You're too scared of damaging it. So, how come the first time you decide to take it for a spin is right in front of Jewel?"

"What are you insinuating, Bucky?" you asked defensively. He looked at you as though you were a child lying about who broke Grandma's favorite vase.

"You're pissed about the intern comment, so you want to flaunt how much money you make. That's really not like you, Pocket. I'm disappointed."

You were physically taken aback by his words. "You honestly think I'd do something like that?" you asked, incredibly offended he could think such a thing of you.

"I didn't think so, but..." he let the rest of the statement hang in the air.

"I called for the fucking car because I didn't want her just inviting herself to join Nat and me," you snapped. "It has absolutely nothing to do with showing off how much money I have."

Bucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "God, Pocket, would it kill you to be nice to her for just a minute? I don't understand why you have it out for her so badly."

"That girl has been nothing but nasty to me all day," you said through gritted teeth. "And if you haven't noticed that by now, nothing I say is going to make you see it." God, you were so disappointed in him. The hurt and betrayal you'd felt earlier had subsided and now you just felt... sad. Deflated. "I don't want to argue with you, Buck. Especially not about her. So, can we just agree to disagree on this, and Nat and I can be on our way? I'm sure you have more important things you'd rather be doing than giving me the third degree, anyway."

He crossed his arms, giving you a hard stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tilting your head, you pursed your lips and gave him a look. "Really? Everyone noticed it, Bucky. Everyone."

"Pocket!" Nat called out to you, preventing Bucky from responding to your insinuation. "Car's here!"

With a heavy sigh, you began to make your way to the front doors. "See you later, Barnes," you called over your shoulder. You were more than ready to get out of there and lose yourself in the music.

*

Hours later, you were coated in a sheen of sweat from dancing and completely and utterly shitfaced. You hadn't intended to get drunk, let alone this drunk, but once the alcohol started numbing your feelings, all you wanted to do was drown your emotions in it. Now, you were sitting in a booth in the club, head pressed against the wall, fighting to keep your eyes open. Nat had taken your phone and was talking to someone.

"Hey, it's Natasha. Can you do me a solid and meet up with us? ... Pocket's plastered and I don't know how to drive stick. ... It means I can't get her car home. ... She already shares her location with you, right? So just take an Uber. ... You can drive her back to the Tower and I'll take the Uber home. ... Did you forget how she dragged your ass home when you were drunk on Thor's Asgardian shit? ... I'd say you owe her. ... Text her phone when you get here; I'm holding onto it. ... Good, see you in a bit." She hung up and bent down so she was at eye level with you.

"Sweetie," she said gently, "don't be mad at me, but I called Bucky to come get you and bring your car home."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. "Bucky? Ew. I'm mad at him. He sucks."

"I know, honey, but he's the only other person I know who can drive stick who's awake at this hour, and your car's too expensive to leave in valet parking overnight." She brushed your hair away from your face as you turned to look at her.

"What's wrong with me, Natty?" you asked her, your emotions fighting their way back up through the haze of the alcohol.

"Nothing, Pocket. Honey, nothing's wrong with you. Why would you ask me that?" Nat's voice was full of concern.

"Why doesn't he love me, then? Why am I good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love?" The last of the words came out in a choked sob.

Nat wrapped her arms around you, rubbing her hands up and down your back in a soothing pattern. "You'd have to ask him that, sweetie. I can't answer it for him."

"It's 'cause I'm just a gross, used up whore," you told her. "'s all I've ever been good for-- sticking dicks in. Nothing else."

Nat held you at arm's length so she could look you in the eye. "Pocket, stop. That's Darren talking, not you, honey. You know that's not true."

"Then why doesn't he want me?" you hiccuped. "Fuck, Natty. 'm so in love with him, it hurts." There. You finally admitted it, not just to Nat, but to yourself. You were in love with your best friend, and you had been for a while now. You'd been too afraid to acknowledge it, to open yourself up to the idea that maybe you could have a real relationship with him, and now it was too late. He'd found someone else, and you'd missed any chance you might have had.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, embracing you again. "Everyone knew and, for what it's worth, we were all sure he felt the same way."

"He doesn't, though," you sniveled into her shoulder. "And why'd it have to be her? Natty, she's so awful. He could have anyone he wanted, why did he have to pick her?"

Natasha sighed. "Because he's a guy, and he thinks with his dick," she told you. "And since dicks don't have eyes, it makes it hard for men to see what someone like Jewel's really like. Especially when Jewel doesn't want them to."

You snorted, imagining Bucky's dick with googly eyes attached to it. "His dick was the best, Nat," you bemoaned. "I'm going to miss it so much. So many times, when we were finished, I couldn't even walk after."

It was Nat's turn to snort. "That does sound like some good dick, Pocket," she admitted.

"And his tongue," you sighed. "'s so long, you wouldn't believe--"

"Okay, Pocket, I think that's enough sharing, don't you?" You pouted but didn't say anything else.

Your phone buzzed then, and you looked all around for it before you watched Nat pull it from her pocket and look at the text you'd just received."

"Alright, Magic Dick's here," she said, taking your hands in hers and hoisting you up. "Up you go."

With her help, you stumbled out of the club, only tripping over your own feet twice, which you thought was fairly impressive, given the circumstances.

Outside, Bucky was waiting for you, a stony expression on his beautiful face. God, he looked so handsome. "Magic Dick," you whispered to Nat, then burst into a fit of drunken giggles that had you tripping over yourself all over again.

Bucky was immediately at your side, taking your weight off of Nat and putting it on him.

"Well, hey there, Magic Dick," you giggled. Bucky shot Nat a look over your head.

"How much has she had to drink?" he asked her.

Nat handed the valet the claim ticket for your car. "More than she should have, that's for sure."

While you waited for the valet to bring your Sergio around, Nat leaned down to look at you. "I'm going to get in the Uber now, Pocket. Bucky's gonna take you home, alright?"

You nodded and reached out to drunkenly stroke her face. "Okay, Natty-Nat. Love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart." She kissed your forehead and headed for the waiting Uber. Before she got in, she turned to Bucky. "Don't give her any shit tonight, okay?" she ordered before closing the door, leaving you and Bucky to wait for the car alone.

"What's going on with you tonight, Pocket?" he asked. "You haven't been acting like yourself." The car pulled up and the valet held the door open for Bucky as he slid you into the passenger seat.

"Just wanted to dance," you murmured, tilting your head sideways to look at him as he fastened your seat belt. "Makes me feel better. And then there was alcohol. Oops."

Bucky let out a sigh as he closed the passenger door and made his way around to the driver's side. He had a point; you seldom got drunk. It reminded you too much of your mother, so you only ever let yourself get a little buzzed. But tonight was a special occasion.

Bucky pulled out of the lot and onto the street. Even at the late hour, New York was still alive with activity. You leaned your head on the windowsill and watched the lights as they passed by.

"You're supposed to be on my side, you know." The words were a whisper, and you'd spoken them into the night. If he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have heard you.

But he wasn't anyone else. He was Bucky. "I am on your side, Pocket. Always."

Though it felt incredibly heavy, you turned your head to face him. He looked so beautiful driving your convertible, the lights of the city reflecting off the lines of his face, the warm night breeze tickling his hair.

"You weren't tonight." Your voice was small, reflecting every bit of the self-doubt you'd felt over the course of the evening, every ounce of the pain.

Bucky sighed, his flesh hand gripping the steering wheel of the Sergio so tightly his knuckles were white. "I don't know what you want from me, Pocket."

You let out an exhausted sigh, the beautiful drunken haze fading from your system and leaving an ache in its wake. You're stomach growled and you remembered you hadn't eaten much dinner. "Can we get something to eat," you asked him, "and go somewhere to talk?" He nodded and changed course, heading away from the Tower.

A few minutes later, he pulled the Sergio into the well-lit parking lot of a 24-hour diner. Like lightning, he was out of the car and coming around to open your door before you'd even finished fumbling with your seat belt. He reached his flesh hand down to help you step out of the car, and to your surprise, didn't let go, hold your hand as you walked into diner together. Most likely making sure you didn't drunkenly fall on your ass and embarrass him, you thought.

Inside, the perky blonde hostess gave Bucky a long, appraising look while he asked for a table in the back. Even at this time of night, the diner was bustling with patrons. The sound of chatter and clinking cutlery filled the air, competing with the soft buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Waitstaff hurriedly made their rounds, taking orders and carrying plates with a clatter of dishes.

When you reached the back, you slid into the booth the hostess directed you to, and instead of sitting across from you, Bucky slid in next to you. The hostess handed you your menus before casting a final, lingering glance at Bucky and walked off, leaving you alone with the super soldier and not sure what exactly you were going to say to him.

You unwrapped your silverware and began playing absentmindedly with the band that had been holding your napkin in place. You could feel Bucky's eyes on you, but you didn't turn to meet his gaze until you felt the fingers of his metal hand gently reach over and brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"You wanted to talk, doll," he said, softly, "so let's talk."

You bit your lip and turned to meet his eyes, the blue of them so soft and gentle as he looked at you. "I'm not saying this to attack you, Buck," you began, gathering your thoughts, "or to try and make you feel bad, but you really made me feel like shit tonight."

He swallowed thickly, but before he could answer you, your waitress approached the booth to take your order. You ordered a chicken Caesar wrap and a glass of chocolate milk for yourself; Bucky ordered a coffee and a large basket of waffle fries.

Once the waitress had left, Bucky turned back to you, taking your hand in his metal one and lacing your fingers together. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you," he told you. He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on your knuckle. "I'm sorry. I was a dick tonight. Finding out that Jewel has the same kind of abilities as I do... it made me feel less alone, like maybe I'm not just a fucked up science experiment that went horribly wrong."

"Buck..." you began, but he continued talking.

"It doesn't excuse how I treated you tonight, but I was so eager to get to know to her, to see how she copes with it. I've only ever had Steve to talk to about it, and Steve's... well..."

"Steve's fucking Captain America," you provided, understanding now where Bucky was coming from. "The perpetual boy scout. You don't want to open up to him about the darker stuff, because you're afraid it will change how he sees you."

Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. "He's already done so much to save me from the worst parts of myself; I don't want to burden him with any more than I already have."

You cupped his jaw with your hand. "Steve loves you, Buck. He will never see you as a burden. I promise you that."

He smiled at you, but it was sad. "I already cost him so much. More than you realize, Pocket. It just felt like, with Jewel, maybe I could have someone else to discuss those parts of myself with, someone I wasn't afraid of letting down."

Your first instinct was to be hurt that he felt he couldn't share those parts of himself with you, but you realized why he wasn't able to.

As if reading your thoughts, he said: "Please don't think it means that I want to share things with her instead of you, though. That will never be the case."

"But there are things that I'll just never be able to fully understand," you supplied, "because I'm not a super soldier. I understand."

He nodded, leaning his head down until his forehead was pressed against yours. "But I don't need to be friends with her," he said. "You said she was horrible to you, and I believe you. That's not the kind of person I want in my life. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I need you to know that."

You would have sworn you felt your heart momentarily stop. More important to him than Steve? Your cheeks grew warm at the implication.

"Bucky, I never want to be the kind of person who tells you who you can or can't be friends with. If talking to her helps you process whatever you need to process, then please, do it." You nuzzled your nose against his. "Just, you know, never flirt with her in front of me again."

He pulled his head back and looked at you, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "Doll, are you telling me you're jealous?" You made a scoffing sound and playfully pushed him away from you. You were treading dangerously close to feelings territory, and you'd only just gotten back to a good place with him; you weren't about to risk it, but you weren't going to lie to him, either.

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer until your lips were pressed against the shell of his ear. "You know I've never been a good girl when it comes to sharing, Bucky," you breathed before taking his earlobe into your mouth and sucking on it.

Bucky let out a low groan and shot his metal hand over to possessively grasp your upper thigh, sending a shiver through you. "Be careful, doll," he growled in the way that had you clenching your legs together, "otherwise I'm liable to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard, you won't remember your own name."

You pulled away from him. "Promises, promises," you teased.

Before Bucky could follow through on his threat, the waitress returned with your orders. Without thinking, you handed Bucky half of your wrap at the same time he deposited a generous handful of waffle fries onto your plate. Catching your eye, he gave you an amused grin, and you both burst into laughter. The tension between you two seemed to dissipate, replaced by the comfortable banter you were used to.

The conversation throughout the meal was light, ranging from random anecdotes to plans for the next day. Occasionally, Bucky would say something that made you giggle uncontrollably, causing a few patrons to give you curious glances. But he just flashed them his charming smile, making most of them blush and turn away.

After finishing your meals, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched the diner's activity. His arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his side. You could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, a soothing rhythm that made your eyes droop sleepily.

"You alright there?" Bucky asked softly, noticing your languidness. You hummed in response, too comfortable to move or open your eyes properly.

"Gettin' sleepy," you admitted as you tried to stifle a yawn. "'s been a long night."

"Then let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, princess." Bucky helped you out of the booth, then tucked you into his side so you could lean against him as you walked toward the counter to pay your bill. You tried to hand Bucky your Amex card, but he shooed your hand away. "I got it, doll. Least I can do after everything I put you through tonight."

You didn't argue with him, not because you didn't have the energy to, but because you knew it was his way of making amends. He settled the bill quickly, leaving a generous tip, then led you back out of the diner into the cool night air. You leaned against his sturdy form as he walked you both back to the Sergio, opening the door for you and helping you with your seat belt, despite your protests.

"I'm not that drunk anymore, Buck," you laughed as he leaned over you to click the belt into place.

"Damn it, woman, be quiet and let me take care of you!" He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side.

Though the drive to the Tower wasn't very long, you quickly found yourself lulled into a comfortable stupor, your mind at peace for the first time in what what felt like weeks. You barely registered when Bucky pulled into the Tower's underground garage, or stopped to give the Sergio's keys to the night parking attendant. You were vaguely aware of him picking you up and cradling you in his arms as he carried you back to his room.

Once inside, he carefully helped you strip out of your pants and halter top and into one of his shirts. Once you'd changed, he tucked you both into his bed, curling his body against yours until you didn't know where his body ended and yours began.

"Better?" he asked, softness threading his voice. You hummed in response, half asleep as your body molded into his welcoming warmth.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, "Sweet dreams, doll," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he adjusted the sheets around you both. His metal arm wound under your pillow comfortably while the other rested on your waist, giving you a sense of protection that no fortress could offer.

You curled closer into him, snuggling into his broad chest like a kitten seeking warmth. His steady heartbeat and slow breathing became your lullaby, luring you closer to sleep with every second.

He stroked your hair gently as you fell off into sleep, whispering words of affection and apology into the quietness of the night.

[fxrehawk]

@fuzzydreamin one(1) squished doggo for you!

#bo stop using this crunchy hexagon overlay as a background impossible challenge #guess who was dumb and didn't realize they can't answer main blog asks on a sideblog (it's me i don't know how asks work) #bo.png #fallout dogmeat #may or may not come back to this one later but in the meantime. it's done and it's out of my wips folder #pretty sure this is the earliest i've ever posted art (10:30pm) #oc: reed

[ruggiezz]

— MOST TO LEAST LIKELY TO GO TO MCDONALDS WITH YOU AT 3 AM : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] twisted wonderland characters that would accompany you to mcdonalds at 3 am

[characters] all (romantic) + ortho (platonic)

[disclaimer] this post talks about food a lot and mentions of unhealthy food (in vil's and riddle's part)

[extra] i'm having way too much fun writing character's reactions

── Most likely

★﹕LILIA VANROUGE

Bold of you to assume he was sleeping in the first place. Lilia was playing the equivalent of Overwatch in Twisted Wonderland when you suddenly asked him to go to the nearest McDonald's. He agreed instantly, and now you're both on a date, with you eating fries and Lilia eating a strawberry sundae and a cheeseburger..

★﹕ORTHO SHROUD (platonic)

He agreed instantly. Can robots even feel tired in the first place? Ortho will search on the internet for coupons and promos, but first let him equip his eating gear; he wants to eat too. Everything for his best friend. By the way, he wants to buy something for Idia too.

★﹕ROOK HUNT

Rook got out of bed even before you even mentioned you wanted to go out, he woke up when he felt you were awake. Rook is a light sleeper; he can even feel when you wake up to go to the bathroom. If you really want a meal at McDonald's, who is he to say no? It makes him happy to see you happy, but he will stare while drinking his strawberry shake. Not a "I'm judging you" stare, but a "I like to see you enjoy your meal" stare.

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA

He has probably eaten McDonald's at least once because Lilia bought the whole of Diasomnia burgers. Alright, you're both going. Yes, he's still a little confused over why you would crave a really cheap burger at 3 am, but Malleus doesn't even care; the burgers are good and he enjoys indulging in human customs, plus he gets to see you smile. The only bad thing is that the employees got the fright of their lives when they saw the literal prince of Briar Valley enter the restaurant.

★﹕SILVER

Still sleepy, he agreed. There are times when he randomly awakes during the night, so he might as well spend it with you, even if it was at a fast food restaurant at 3 am. He'll order an iced coffee and some fries and listen to you while you speak about whatever comes to mind. You'll both have to make it quick though, he may fall asleep there, and you both need to get back before classes start.

★﹕DEUCE SPADE

He didn't even understand what you were saying; his mind was still foggy from being woken up so late. He said yes, not knowing what he was agreeing with, but a few minutes later he realized what he agreed to. Deuce, not wanting to have gotten your hopes up only for him to say no, got up and accompanied you anyway. He still enjoyed himself though, as long as he is with you, he's happy.

★﹕RUGGIE BUCCHI

He's tired because of how many errands Leona made him do yesterday, but you know what? He will still go. Food is food, and he could never refuse it. Leona lets him grab his credit card anyway, so order whatever you want, Leona will pay, even if he doesn't know that. It's not like he checks his credit card's expenses, so don't worry about it.

★﹕JACK HOWL

When he confessed to you a few months ago, he didn't expect that would mean signing up for you waking him up in the middle of the night, asking him to accompany you to eat fast food outside of campus. Still, he's your boyfriend, and he can't let you go alone, it's dangerous. Even if he doesn't feel like ordering anything, he will sit there with you until you finish your meal, chatting with you in the meantime.

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA

You're lucky he loves you too much; he would have said no if you were another person. So now Ace is sitting at McDonald's, almost falling asleep while eating some nuggets. That one song they keep replaying will haunt him in his dreams; it got stuck in his head for like, a week. Riddle reprimanded him the next day for falling asleep during history class.

★﹕CATER DIAMOND

Out of everything he could have expected a person to say at 3 am, it certainly wasn't "I want to go to McDonald's". Cater takes a selfie with you inside and uploads it to his Magicam story, the close friends one, so Riddle doesn't realize he wasn't at the dorm. He still has no idea how you came up with this, but ok, it was for the funsies.

★﹕JADE LEECH

You're certainly unpredictable, aren't you? Jade stared at you for a good minute until he just got up, got changed, and went with you. Floyd has done weirder stuff during one of his mood swings; what harm can going to McDonald's do? He doesn't feel like cooking that late anyway. Just don't tell Azul you're both going to the competition, okay?

★﹕EPEL FELMIER

He had you repeat what you said twice to make sure he was hearing you correctly. You want to do what? Let him go back to sleep, please. Okay, whatever, he will accompany you, but make it quick. At least that's what he said before spending the next two hours chatting with you while eating. He sadly got caught by Vil when he came back. Rook snitched.

★﹕SEBEK ZIGVOLT

No, he has to make sure nobody attacks Malleus while he's sleeping. But with some reassurance from Lilia (and him asking Sebek to bring him a burger) and his love for you, he decided to accompany you. He'll ask for the biggest burger since he has a big appetite. He did enjoy it at the end; 10/10 would do it again (but he won't say that out loud).

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM

He doesn't mind that you woke him up, and he would like to go, but there's a small problem: he isn't allowed to go anywhere without Jamil, which means he would need to wake him up. Jamil wouldn't be happy about that, and Kalim doesn't want to bother him either. So you both just order takeout and give the delivery guy a very generous tip.

★﹕IDIA SHROUD

Idia was awake, but he really doesn't want to go, and he's also farming for an event. Great, now he's craving McDonald's too. If you really want to go, you can have Ortho accompany you, but please bring him a chicken sandwich and some fries. You can use his debit card to pay.

★﹕TREY CLOVER

... What? What did you even dream about to crave McDonalds so late at night? Trey says you both can go on the weekend if you really want to, but go back to sleep, please. There's an important exam tomorrow, and you'll both be in trouble if you suddenly fall asleep in the middle of it.

★﹕FLOYD LEECH

He was not in a good mood after being woken up in the middle of the night. Floyd won't let you go, squeezing you so hard that you can't even move away from the bed. You're not going anywhere the whole night, and if you still want the meal, you can order some in the Mostro Lounge tomorrow.

★﹕LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

It's 3 am, what the heck. Leona says Ruggie can buy you some tomorrow; ask for as much as food as you want, but not at 3 am. He will fall asleep on top of you, so you can't even move, just in case you try to sneak out while he sleeps.

★﹕JAMIL VIPER

No, please, he's tired. He did so much work yesterday: laundry, cooking, folding clothes, tutoring Kalim, paperwork for an upcoming event, and preparing for an exam. He just wants to rest for at least a few hours. Go back to sleep, please. He promises he'll cook you a burger with some fries tomorrow. His cooking is way superior to fast food anyway.

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"No, that's unhealthy", he says. Somebody buy him a happy meal or something, Riddle has probably never eaten fast food in his life. Either way, there's class tomorrow, and he would never forgive himself if he arrived late to a lesson. So no, you aren't going anywhere.

★﹕AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Why would you want to eat at McDonalds when he has a literal restaurant? Are you trying to buy from the competition? Now Azul is offended at 3 am, so offended that he dragged you to the kitchen to make you a meal resembling the McDonald's one just to prove Mostro Lounge's food is better.

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT

Excuse you? Not only did you interrupt his beauty sleep, but you want to go eat McDonald's'? It's 3 am, please go back to sleep or you'll get dark circles. Lack of sleep is bad for your skin, and he won't take the risk, much less to eat unhealthy food.

── Least likely

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x riddle #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader

[see-arcane]

Our good friend Jonathan Harker is getting ready to leave for his business trip, Mina Murray is picking out a new journal, Lucy Westenra is charming a gaggle of smitten suitors, Abraham van Helsing is wrapping up his lectures, and Castle Dracula is prepping the guest room for a very long stay.

Which must mean that Dracula Season is here again!

 ‘Dracula Season’ being a catchall term for the voracious reading, memeing, writing, illustrating, analyzing, and general fun-having that’s ensued since Matt Kirkland’s project, Dracula Daily, caught on with us back in 2022. The Substack had already been running before then, but it sparked a conflagration as time went on and readers old and new to Bram Stoker’s Dracula—the actual novel, not Coppola’s fanfiction—devoured it in a way that scratched an itch none of us knew we had. Stoker wrote the book in epistolary fashion, clumping sections together as needed for the pacing without perfect adherence to chronological order. Matt went ahead and put all the events in order and proceeded to set up a lovely chain of emails that delivered entries on those correlating dates.

This style of organization and pacing turned out to not only make the virtual book club that much easier to engage with, but left space in-between to stew on the story and relate with the characters themselves. Every day of waiting in the book feels weightier when you have to pace and sweat and worry in tandem with poor Jonathan trapped in the castle or Lucy wasting away or Mina running out the clock before she loses the fight for her own humanity. And while we sat with the story or the lulls between Dracula Seasons, some of us found ourselves craving more of that ghastly gothic horror goodness to the point that we figured:

“Well. Why don’t I make something?”

And then we did! Tons of creative works have been churned out in the wake of Dracula Daily’s high. I figured that while we’ve still got a bit of time to wait for May 3rd, we should check out all this new stuff in the meantime. (Plus a handful of neat stuff that just clicks with the Dracula itch overall.)

So, in the interest of Dracula Season pregaming, let’s take a look at…

FICTION

Blood of My Blood – A recent addition to the Dracula Bad Ending AU pile, and definitely one of the most harrowing and addictive group-produced narratives I’ve ever come across, Blood of My Blood is the dramatically gothic currently-WIP work of @ibrithir-was-here and @animate-mush’s devious design. Give or take a heap of other fascinated folks (hello!) adding ideas to put more Horror into the Horrors that our cast has to face. The premise:

The Transylvanian climax went fatally sour and the Harkers were forced to shelter with Dracula himself, including their half-vampire son, Quincey. Cut to two decades later, and Quincey finds himself out in modern London, smitten with Lu, adopted daughter of Arthur and Jack, and diving into certain bloodstained old documents that detail the real history of how his parents came to live in the castle. Said revelations coming not a moment too soon, as a storm is coming for him straight from the Carpathians…

Dracula Daily Sketch Collection – An array of illustrations that captures every entry beat by beat, the Dracula Daily Sketch Collection by Georgia Cook, alias @georgiacooked was dished out over the course of the last Dracula Season. Some of the most fun character designs out there.

Fanfiction Spotlight: BlueCatWriter – With a whopping 99 works devoted to the novel Dracula (so far, the number may have gone up since I blinked), @bluecatwriter is one of the most prolific and talented fanfiction scribblers out there. Romances, nightmares, and overlaps between the two seem to crop up the most, give or take a crossover. Seems fitting that those blue paw prints have contributed to BoMB too.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk – An ongoing comic in which all your favorite characters from the Classics section get together and tackle some perils ranging from the mundane to the monstrous. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit, with a spotlight on the two couples leading the League. Namely, the Harkers, ala Dracula, and the Nortons, ala Sherlock Holmes,’ “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Mina and Irene are the driving investigative and steering forces here, and still deeply in love with their likewise-infatuated husbands, just like in their canons! What a concept! Alan.

Without spoiling the full character list, just know there are going to be a ton of familiar faces roaming around before you finish reading the first arc. Said arc having conveniently wrapped up just a few days ago! Give the comic and its bonus silliness a look if you’re in the mood for a new comfort-adventure epic.

Re: Dracula – Probably the most well-known and incredible thing to come out of the initial Dracula Daily wave. This podcast is a full audio drama that follows the same format as the Substack, with episodes coming out in time with the entries themselves. And it has an unfairly cool soundtrack. They have a Tumblr with @re-dracula, a site and a Patreon to check out before the series kicks up again on May 3rd. (Also, keep an eye out for their next work, an audio drama in the same style with Carmilla.)

The Soldier and the Solicitor – Another treat from @ibrithir-was-here, this one involves a bit of time travel trouble. Quincey Harker has stumbled out of World War I and into the same dark forest where his father once fled for his life…then runs into the man himself, on that same night. Jonathan Harker, young and starved and lost, who has no choice but to trust this stranger while the Weird Sisters are at his heels…despite said stranger having no shadow. It’s a tasty emotional trek, already complete on Tumblr, but now it’s turning into a Webtoon. While Ibrithir is juggling a number of other stories, she’ll be redrawing spruced up versions of the comic and adding a few new scenes as things unfold.

Substack Stack – You know what’s better than one emailed-out public domain book club? A mountain of them. Just. So, so many of them. You’ll see that a lot of these are finished, but some are still ticking along. Either way, they’re all great picks if you’re craving some more old school lit to fill the void between undead emails.

Frankenstein Weekly – Frankenstein

Jekyll and Hyde Weekly – The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Voyage of the Nautilus – Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

Letters from Watson – Sherlock Holmes

The Invisible Mail – The Invisible Man

Letters from Bunny – E.W. Hornung’s short stories of the eponymous Bunny and Raffles

Letters Regarding Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster short stories, including the novel, Right Ho, Jeeves

…

……

………

…The Beetle Weekly – The Beetle (NOTE: Do Not Read This.)

The Vampyres – A novella I finally wrenched through the gears of self-publication as of March this year. Starring a petite but powerful paranormal cast, The Vampyres, centers on an unscrupulous undead fellow who finds that the revenants of the world are being mowed down by an entity known only as ‘Quinn Morse.’ Between trying to save his neck and figure out where the shadowy bastard came from, the Vampyre in question crosses paths with a new paramour and handy human shield in the form of a grieving Good Samaritan. He’s even polite enough to invite the Vampyre into his home while he’s in dire straits! Surely this will end well. All the info is available here and a little author site is over here.

What Manner of Man – This is the one made for everyone who started out hoping there’d be a real love story with our good friend Jonathan Harker and the Count when he was at his most charismatic. Where that sea of wonders dried up into a mire of horror, What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling keeps things firmly on the romantic tracks. This Substack stars the letter-writing priest Father Victor E. Ardelian as he finds himself meeting with one enigmatic Lord Alistair Vane. It isn’t long before interest turns into intrigue and intrigue into undead intimacies.

The entire novel has been completed—along with multiple epilogues in the author’s Patreon, allowing readers to choose for themselves just how the uncanny romance plays out in the end—and the Substack now has a number of other gothic goodies piling up in the meantime.  

NONFICTION

Dracula Daily: A Unique Reading Experience: This one comes courtesy of @realwomenofgaming. It’s a short and sweet piece that amounts to a fun snapshot of the entire Dracula Daily ride. A cozy couple-minute read.

‘Dracula Daily’ is the One Substack You Need a Subscription To: Features my favorite Matt Kirkland interview. @mattkirkland, if you’re still floating around on here, thank you for dispatching our vampire newsletter again this year.

Dracula Daily is Tumblr’s hottest new book club: Alright, the ‘new’ part is worn out by now, but this one is still a delightful article to swing back around to. Two years on, this Polygon piece is a time capsule of those early months when people outside our bookworm bubble realized we were all happily receiving letters from our favorite classic gothic horror blorbos.  

“How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” – Princess Weekes, if you ever read this, thank you, thank you, thank you. I am sending oceans of love and millions of rewatches to your video essay. If you haven’t seen it yet, “How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” is one of the most refreshing and well-made breakdowns of both the title subject and numerous other issues that have proliferated in the public view of Dracula’s cast and plot as adaptations endlessly warp or outright bastardize the actual novel. An incredibly cathartic watch.  

Literary play gone viral: delight, intertextuality, and challenges to normative interpretations through the digital serialization of Dracula: A mouthful of a title for an even more elaborate article about the Dracula Daily phenomenon. This one is a full-on study that analyzes just what happened within the big bloodsucker book club surge and how its ‘wandering reading practices’ enriched the experience for participants.

 “The Undying Undead: An analysis of the Dracula Daily community for a theory of online community formation and interaction” – We have a thesis on here! Look at that! @sirangelothebestest’s MA thesis used our vampiric book club as the bones for a massive brick of an academic piece that definitely deserves a look.

…And I think I’ll go ahead and cap things here.

This isn’t everything I got recommended, but if I had squashed all of it in here, I think folks’ eyes would start to fall out of their head. I hope you can find something cool to comb through here. Or, if there’s something great I overlooked, tack it onto the list! We’ve got just two weeks to go until we’re off with Mr. Harker. Let’s enjoy our respite before those castle doors close behind us.

#time for Dracula Season pre-gaming :3 #thank you to everyone who sent in their suggestions! #dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.��

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

#cod #thoughts™️ #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #polycule #poly 141 #misters steal your girl #get it? misters plural. because they all steal that girl

[hedgehog-moss]

In my neverending quest to keep Pampérigouste from achieving her dreams, I have launched a formal investigation into her last escape, which I had no explanations for at the time.

I figured it out! At the far far end of her pasture, near the road, a few fence posts have become more or less horizontal (the ground is quite wet / muddy there so they've never been very stable, especially with Pirlouit using them to scratch his forehead)—so instead of a high jump + long jump combo to get to the road, Pampe just had to clear the long jump over the ditch. Which is still impressive.

I also suspect that she chose to escape from this place near the road on a snowy morning as a deliberate strategy, knowing the snow plough would erase any traces of her jump, thus preventing me from discovering where the weak spot in the fence was. Well done.

You need 2 people to fix these fence posts so in the meantime I decided to kill two birds with one stone: cut all the broom and thorny bushes in this corner of the pasture and use them to form a discouraging barrier. I set to work earlier this week, and here's the same place as above, mid-process:

When I texted my mum to tell her about my new thorn-based anti-Pampe plan of action, she said "Like the Maasai who make fences with thorny acacia branches to keep out lions!" and it made me feel even more confident. I mean, I have neither acacia nor Maasai fencing techniques but my thorny shrubs are pretty aggressive, they pricked my fingers even through my thick work gloves—which felt satisfying in an anticipatory way. Excellent! prick Pampe's nose exactly like this. How could a llama not be deterred by a fence material that deters apex predators?

Vexingly enough, she seemed quite supportive of my efforts. At one point she breathed some warm air against my shoulder in a gentle, patronising way.

We were engaged in psychological warfare all afternoon—every time I stepped away from my vegetal fence, feeling like it was now good enough, Pampe would immediately come to inspect it, cheerful and impatient, which sapped my confidence so I would go and add a few more shrubs. (Note that I sort of plaited the first / biggest shrubs with the pre-existing fence so they don't go flying on the road, and so Pampe can't just push them aside.)

On the right: Poldine, looking for little fresh leaves to eat amidst the chaos. On the left: Pampérigouste, thinking.

(At this point the barrier was only 20% thorns, and 80% broom—the fact that she waded through it without a care and didn't prick her belly made me go and add more thorny shrubs, and pack them more densely)

It's kind of fun watching Pampe think, honestly. Can I jump over this? Do I have enough visibility? Can I eat my way to freedom (again)? But these shrubs are disgusting. Am I above exploiting my daughter's lack of culinary discernment to achieve my goals? Maybe I should go back to my calculations re: probability of wild boar destruction. I may have pincushions for hands after handling prickly bushes for two hours but I'm helping stimulate my llama's intellect and creativity and that's so important.

I tried to alternate broom and thorny branches so that the non-thorny broom became tangled up with thorns and brambles to form an impenetrable and incomprehensible wall. I will call it this method the salmagundi-fence.

Poldine is in awe of my vegetal installation.

Can I just say, compared to Pampérigouste who constantly has a devilish glint in her eye, Pampelune's face exudes wholesome politeness and moral goodness. It's still hard to believe they're mother and daughter.

I went home once my fence started looking like Maleficent's forest of thorns and Pampe had long stopped trying to wade through it, but I still felt antsy and ended up coming back one hour later to have my apéritif with the llamas so I could keep an eye on Pampe until nightfall.

... where is Pampe?

Oh. Here. No worries!

Still staring at the road. Still thinking.

...

With all that said, please admire my beautifully delirious Forest of Thorns-fence and let me know what you think.

#crawling along #llama drama #(i am not sponsored by kindle i just had it balanced on my knee) #in the photo where pampe is patronisingly praising my efforts you can see a remnant of the police tape from the jungle fence saga! #i should remove it. She was not intimidated by police tape for very long #if ever at all #anyway i've started planting a few interesting shrubs along the road to form a living fence but it's a very slow process #i'm ages away from reaching this part of the pasture

[justporo]

Sweet Things

You've been brooding all day, even Astarion is at a loss on how to pull you out of it - until he offers you a sweet treat, with lots of bickering of course.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the Hot Chocolate/Mulled Wine" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Honestly my favourite piece I've written so far for the challenge - let's see if it will stay this way.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,6k

~~~

You had been in a bad mood the whole day with no particular reason for it. And nothing was able to lift your mood. Not even your vampire and his usual shenanigans had been able to pull you out of your puddle of negative feelings. Especially when Astarion had suggested you come with him into the city to run some errands.

The usual excitement you felt to go outside during the crispy cold but beautiful winter weather, to walk through the snow and see the lights in the city - it was non-existent today. In fact, you had taken one look out of the tall living room window, scowled and Astarion had thrown a little fit about how ‘you made him venture forth into the perils of the winter smitten city so the two of you may yet survive the bitter cold’. But even his histrionics, little pout and round red eyes had done nothing to change your mind.

Astarjon had sighed in defeat: “Alright, my love, you go and soak in your bad mood as long as you can, I'll wrangle you out of it soon enough.” “Don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you had replied dryly but the vampire had just smirked. A plan had undoubtedly been set into motion. After that he had been off to go into the city - of course not without coming over to you, cupping your face softly and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Afterwards you had tried to make your peace with your bad mood and had curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, just staring into the flickering flames.

A while later you heard Astarion return to your shared home.

“I've returned from the hunt, my love, and I bring you some bounty”, the vampire declared. You turned around to see him standing in the doorframe with a huge grin and an inconspicuously looking bag in his hand. You saw some melting snowflakes glisten in his curls. He looked very proud of himself with how he let the bag dangle in front of you, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively.

Oh, you knew he was daring you to ask about it. This was one of his signature ways to get what he wanted: teasing you by holding the carrot in front of your face and then quickly moving it out of your reach with an “ah ah ah” and a fang-baring grin. 

And you felt how his tactic even slowly started to work now.

“A bag? Aw Astarion, you shouldn't have! Bags are my favourite!”, you gave back and felt a sassy grin grow on your face. Turning around on your knees on the plush sofa you placed your arms on the rim of the piece of furniture and then placed your cheek on top of it - basically hugging the backrest.

The vampire frowned at you, obviously unsatisfied with your insolent reaction. But he wouldn't be Astarion were he to give up because of that.

“Yes, a bag. And if you stop being such a miserable and yet so sassy little thing, you might even get what's inside of it”, he snapped back mockingly.

“You know, usually this time of year when someone threatens you with the thing they have inside their bag it's a rod to punish the naughty.”

“Well, seeing how naughty you've been to me today, who says there isn't a rod in there?” His grin had turned sultry, his gaze dropping in a way that made other than your negative feelings churn inside of you.

“I repeat myself from earlier: don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you replied with a smirk. Simultaneously you noticed that your bad mood was slowly lifting. Well, he was your soulmate after all, wasn't he? He knew all the tricks.

Astarion in the meantime had put his hands on his hips in an affronted manner. You heard telltale, soft clanking sounds coming from the bag and raised your eyebrows at the vampire.

“So, are we sulking or are we trying to outwit me, eh?”, he commented with a little sneer, but you knew he was only teasing. “Can you at least decide what your mood is?”, he continued when you first made big sad puppy eyes at him and then stuck out your tongue at him. “It's getting exhausting to keep track of your whims, love.”

He quickly and easily dodged the pillow you threw at his face and grinned at you.

“That's pretty rich coming from you, love”, you answered and flipped him off. “Now tell me what's in the bag!”

The vampire clicked his tongue in disapproval: “You lost the privilege of finding out when you threw the pillow, no you'll have to wait.”

You threw another pillow with a pout but your partner had quickly turned and left the room altogether. 

Since you had no intention of losing other privileges and knew exactly that Astarion was way too greedy for praise and thus would come to you again, you just turned around and lounged on the couch once more. You closed your eyes and felt that most of your bad mood had disappeared already, so you simply relaxed to the bustling and rustling that had started coming from the kitchen.

You hadn't planned on drifting off.

But then you were awoken again by the smell of something delicious filling your nose. You opened your eyes and saw an incredibly ugly mug in the form of a boot in front of you.

But more important than its form were its contents you immediately recognised as: delicious hot chocolate with some slowly melting meringue drops on top of it.

And when you looked up you saw that Astarion was holding the cup almost directly under your nose with a smug grin on his lips.

“Something sweet for my sweet thing?”, he asked while batting his eyelashes excessively and his grin growing even broader.

“Where did you find the most hideous mug on this plane of existence?”, you replied and sat up on the sofa - also making space for Astarion to sit beside you.

The vampire sighed massively while he sat beside you and handed you the mug: “You are a ghastly little thing today, have I told you that?”

“At least with me it’s only today.”

Now even Astarion was flabbergasted.

“By the gods, love”, he said with raised eyebrows and then took a swig from his own mug you hadn’t noticed before. “You really do spend too much time in my company”, he finished after he had put down the cup again.

You peeked over at his cup and figured he must have gone for something with a little more kick than hot chocolate - mulled wine most likely.

“And now go and drink your hot chocolate which I so painstakingly made for you, love, or I’ll show you ghastly”, he said and leaned to you, narrowing his red eyes at you. You just made big innocent puppy eyes at him again.

You had every intention to comply - but first you swung your legs over his and covered the both of you with your blanket to make it extra cosy. And then after some fussing from the vampire and some readjusting you had snuggled up on the couch. Astarion kept sipping on his mulled wine and you finally tasted your hot and sweet beverage.

When the first of the rich, warm taste hit your tongue, you couldn’t help but let out a pleased moan and let your head fall back.

“It tastes amazing, love”, you moaned and let your eyes roll in delighted pleasure.

“Well then. Maybe I should introduce some hot chocolate in the bedroom if this is how you react to it”, Astarion commented. He was trying to play over it with his sultry joke but he was obviously proud of himself for having made what caused this reaction in you.

“You prepared it perfectly, Astarion, thank you”, you said now in a genuine tone and let one of your hands cover his which he had carefully placed on your blanket-covered knees.

He looked at you then with a small, sweet smile.

“Thanks for taking the time and the patience to put up with me and make this, Astarion”, you said and softly squeezed his hand. His smile grew broader.

You sat and drank and talked and joked. At some point you made Astarion try his own creation while you got a sip of his also very delicious mulled wine. He insisted he still preferred savory because he already had that one sweet thing in his life. But you saw him lick his lips after trying the chocolate.

When you had downed your beverage to the last drop, you sighed contentedly while the vampire looked fully pleased with himself.

“Feel better now?”, he asked and put his mug down on the floor. You simply nodded and watched as he leaned over to you.

“Good”, he whispered while he kept leaning in closer still. “But you still have a little something there”, he continued in a deep tone and eyed your already opened lips. You just made a silent “oh” while you expectantly awaited yet another treat from Astarion.

He softly grabbed your chin and closed the distance between you. You closed your eyes, expecting the kiss.

But then the vampire just grossly licked over and around your top lip to get rid of the remaining chocolate there.

You kicked and squealed trying to get him off you and stop torturing you with this gross procedure but he had the upper hand.

And then he had jumped up grabbing both your cups, promising to return with a refill of mulled wine for the both of you while you wiped off your mouth with the back of your hand.

“And you call me ghastly”, you screamed after Astarion but you couldn’t stop the big smile spreading over your face.

From the kitchen you only heard the vampire’s laughter in response.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

[k4vehrtz]

STARBOY

-> Pairing: shōta aizawa / sub! (trans) male reader

-> Request: yes / no

-> Word Count: 1K (roughly)

➷...Summary: shō offers a helping hand (more like mouth) when you're in need.

-> Notes: not the fic that was meant to be posted this week but seeing as that one is yet to be completed i thought i would post this request in the meantime!

➷...Content Warnings: vaginal descriptions, use of the word cunt, mentions of testosterone, exhibition, age gap (though not specified, both are adults), coach/athlete trope(?), oral (reader receiving), squirting, being caught masturbating, biting, at some point it is implied that shō may have a negative reaction to the reader being trans but he does not. if i miss anything let me know.

“You've got to be—holy shit, this can’t be real.” He grunts, his voice a gravelly whisper amongst the sound of sneakers frantically shuffling across the court. Jesus. His free hand immediately goes to his mess of black hair, strumming his calloused fingers through the stray strands clinging to his sweaty forehead.

It’s a lost cause — it’s all a fucking lost cause. This team is the last nail in the coffin that was Shōta Aizawa’s career as an athlete.

The corners of his lips can’t help but curl upwards at that thought. An athlete? Maybe some ridiculously delusional part of himself still had a shred of his youthful shamelessness. He is, and has been, a disgrace for quite some time now.

His days of being a household name are long gone. You’ve taken his place now, haven’t you? You’re a good player, a team player, and not too hard on the eyes either.

Shō’s had his eyes on you for a while now. You’ve come a long way since he first saw you handing out water bottles to the members of your team. Now you’re destroying his team on the court. It takes every ounce of self-control in him to not laugh. Funny how the world works, right?

 Shōta Aizawa prides himself on how mature he is. He’s not going to pick a fight with you. You’re half his age for crying out loud. He’s above that because he’s incredibly mature; As most people his age would be.

So, it’s purely coincidental that he’s in the same locker room as you. He just happened to take a wrong turn when attempting to find his team. As their coach, it’s his duty to comfort them after such a…horrific loss. But accidents happen and he couldn’t just waltz in here without conversing with you. What if you misunderstood and painted him out to be some kind of pervert? It’s only right that he makes small talk.

But the words that were at the tip of his tongue disappeared in an instant. Perhaps his critical thinking skills have gone along with it. Well, this is quite the turn of events, isn’t it?

“…In all my years of playing this damn game,” He cocks his head sideways, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “I’ve never found it remotely arousing.” He says pointedly, clicking his tongue. Your skin warms.

You open and close your mouth once, twice, and then a third time but no words slide past those ridiculously beautiful lips of yours. Shō doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring. “Each to their own,” He shrugs and you want nothing more than the floor to swallow you whole.

“I…” You start, scrambling to find the right words to say. But in a situation like this, what could you say? The coach of the opposing team just walked in on you with your hands down your pants. Not a good look.

“Wh–What are you even doing in here, first of all?” You counter, fighting a heated blush as you not-so-discreetly pull your hand out of your shorts. Fingers coated in your arousal fluid.

Silence, then a moment later he deadpans, “Got lost, and then walked in on you…doing whatever it is that you were doing.” And before you can stop yourself, “It’s the testosterone, I can’t help it, alright?” you dig yourself into a deeper hole.

Shō blinks at you, once, twice, and then a third time. It’s like you’re taking turns leaving one another speechless. Before his mouth forms something of an ‘O’ shape. You grimace, bracing yourself for this embarrassing situation to take an even worse turn. But it doesn’t.

“Jesus,” He curses, more so to himself, and then takes a deep breath. “I can leave so you can finish—” He stops himself, sounding embarrassed, “…or I can help you with that problem of yours.”

“Go—You can go ahead,” you say, swallowing hard. Everyone has their needs, you remind yourself.

Shō’s gaze meets yours momentarily, silently requesting your approval once more. You nod, turning your head to the side as you lay on one of the benches, your legs spread. Dripping cunt on full display.

He lowers his face in between your legs without hesitation, warm breath tickling your sensitive thighs. As his teeth gently graze the fat of your thighs. He takes his time, gently nipping at your thighs before trailing light kisses up either one. Stopping just short of your drooling hole.

It’s torture, really. The way he alternates between light kisses, gentle nips, and then full-on sucking hickeys onto your inner thighs. Always stopping short of your cunt.

The rough pads of his fingers dig into the skin of your hips as he holds you in place. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. His tongue lapped at your thighs covered in arousal fluid. It’s like he’s never tasted anything sweeter and you squirm, utterly embarrassed. Embarrassed by how wet it makes you; Embarrassed by the sounds you’re both making.

After what felt like hours—You don’t know, you’ve lost track of time. His mouth moves from your thighs to your glistening labia. He presses a kiss to your outer lips, taking his time to spread them, before licking a fat stripe over your labia. You feel yourself tremble, biting down on your lower lip to stifle your moans. There are still people outside. But you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make it all the more exciting.

And then it happens without warning — his tongue breaches your entrance. Your eyes flutter closed, and you knit your brows together when you feel him squeezing your clit in between the rough pads of his fingers. It’s all so perfect. He’s dragged this out for far too long.

He’s so good to you. Your legs are shaking but he holds you in place with one hand as he laps at your sopping-wet cunt like it’s his last meal. You can feel your orgasm creep up on you and oh when it does, you’re squirting. Spraying your juices all over his face, and he doesn’t protest in the slightest. He pulls away, lips quirking, and licks what’s left on his face contently.

#x bottom male reader #x sub male reader #mha x male reader #aizawa x male reader #x male reader smut #aizawa smut #x ftm reader #bnha smut #aizawa x you #aizawa shouta x you

[b1rds3ye]

Before the Mask

You eagerly return to the Federal Security Service’s base from a month long mission hoping to see Nikto again, but you’re told he’s not around. In the meantime, you find your interest piqued by a mysterious masked figure now wandering the barracks…

Pairing: Nikto x GN!Reader

Reader Aliases: Seeker

Word Count: 7.4k (I did NOT expect it to get this long so pls enjoy~)

Genre: Pre-Modern Warfare/Prequel, Fluff, Mystery (?), Reverse Comfort, Light Dose of Angst

Warning: Descriptions of injuries, swearing, mentions/portrayals of mental disorders, insults against physical experience, probably ooc Nikto, Reader is a lil oblivious

A/N: everyone being down bad for masked men Ghost and König but y’all forgot my man Nikto 😩 😩

“Congratulations to our dear comrade Seeker for their success and safe return!”

There were cheers all round as you entered the room. By the time you reached the main table, your back was sore with the slaps of congratulations and a job well done. The Russian Federal Security Service had sent you under the radar for a month long operation, and your comrades gifted you a surprise night of drinks and games upon your return. Even your fatigued body was energised by seeing familiar faces, and you had to give it to yourself, that last operation was probably the best you’ve ever performed. There was no better way to celebrate - surrounded by your allies… however it seemed one was missing.

“Where’s Nikto?” You questioned the troops surrounding you. It was an innocent inquiry, no one should be surprised, before your mission you were two peas in a pod. And yet the instant his name left your lips, the faces of your friends cracked for a split second before they forced their smiles to return. The area around you had gotten quieter. Your shoulders rose as you inwardly cringed. God, that’s embarrassing, you’re dampening the atmosphere to your own damn party.

“Brother Nikto is busy,” one replied. “He’s on field duty for the next few days-”

“Weeks,” another quickly corrected.

“Oh…” You frowned at their words, slumping back as you put your whole weight on the backing of your chair.

“He sends his regards, said he really wanted to come,” the troop added hurriedly.

“You worked hard the last month, Seeker. Do not push your mind now,” a sergeant tried to refill your drink upon seeing your dejected state, but it did little to quell the disappointment. Of course neither you nor Nikto could decline a mission, but you didn’t realise how much you were banking on being able to see Nikto again. Going undercover you interacted with no one but your direct superior. You missed him; he may be a little rough around the edges but he was steadfast and reliable. He may not have a face sculpted by Michelangelo but he had a rugged handsomeness that had made him a sight for your sore eyes. He wasn’t the most talkative but he had a drive and charisma that motivated you to keep fighting when he was in your sights. Oh well. For now, you’ll make the most of tonight and chase up Nikto later.

You took a massive gulp of your refilled drink, slamming it back on the tabletop half empty. You let your eyes scan across the room, only for it to land on a figure leaning against the opposite wall. The moment you two make eye contact he flinched, snapping his face away. And what a face - or lack thereof. His features were obscured by a smooth mask made of hard black plastic (or metal, you weren’t sure) that hugged his face like bandage wrappings. He wasn’t the largest figure in the room but he was still imposing enough for you to be unable to look away once you noticed him. It didn’t help that his entire body was clad in black, more akin to an assassin or ninja than a soldier. And like a ninja, he left at unimaginable speeds when he noticed your eyes were still on him.

You leaned over to the soldier beside you.

“Who was that?”

“Who?” They followed your gaze, only to be greeted with an empty wall.

“There was a guy with a big, bulky mask, haven’t seen him before. Did he join while I was away?”

They were silent for a few moments but you swear you heard them quietly curse at your question. They cleared their throat and nodded slowly.

“Yes, new guy. Don’t have a name for him yet. Probably shouldn’t ask.”

Over the next couple of days, you managed to pry Nikto’s number from one of your mutual friends. You didn’t want to look desperate to talk to him but you figured you were restrained enough after an entire damn month. His mission shouldn’t be undercover so he’d have access to all contacts. You shot him a casual text, a greeting and a wish that his mission is going well. Then it was the waiting game, you can’t imagine Nikto being an avid texter that eagerly hops onto every notification.

You had a few weeks until your next deployment but that didn’t mean you could slack off. In days like these you waste the hours away in the shooting range, in the last aisle where you’re tucked and hidden away.

Arms steady, breath slow, you shot at the target. This pistol was new, the weight distribution was off and it was showing in your inaccuracy. If you stared at the target any harder you would end up seeing double. With a grumble, you tore your gaze away and reloaded the weapon.

In truth, you originally didn’t have a preferred aisle of the shooting range. It was on one faithful visit where the range was packed, you had no choice but to take the furthest and dingiest one.

“You are good shot.”

Funnily enough, that interruption was all you needed for your next bullet to completely miss the target. You slowly turned around to make eye contact with a man adorning a matching uniform to yours. You tried to hide your scowl as he let out a raspy chuckle. He didn’t seem all that expressive, just a small quirk of the lips at your misfortune.

“Care to have a try?” You taunted, stepping back from the range and towards him, challenging him with your unwavering eye contact. You waited a solid twenty minutes for this aisle to free up you’d be damned if someone takes it after five.

“No, no, I will watch you. I am learning a lot.”

… that was arguably worse.

You sighed inwardly as you turned back to resume shooting. You could feel those cerulean eyes burning into the back of your head. It took an extra few seconds for you to quell your trembling for each shot. You recognised him, he was someone in your squadron who you had yet to greet. He wasn’t the easiest to approach, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t been admiring his combat prowess from afar.

“Commander chose well to hire you,” the man eventually praised, his voice rough. But he sounded closer, as you turned around he was right behind you, sending you almost jumping towards the range. “But your form is lacking… can I?”

You nodded, trying to step away to give him space to demonstrate but it seems you misunderstood when he took a large step towards you. First cupping your shoulders, he reoriented you to face the target. Picking up on what he was trying to do, you got over your initial surprise and returned to your default shooting position. He grabbed your elbows, calloused fingers rough even through your shirt fabric, readjusting your form as he saw fit. He didn’t even provide commentary, only giving a satisfactory grunt when he was done.

Eventually, you risked turning your head to look at the man again, only for him to immediately fix your slackening arms. As he did, you focused on his face, taking it in. Despite his constantly stern expression he did seem quite the looker.

Noticing your gaze, he regarded you again.

“My name is Nikto. I usually shoot here but you shoot well, I will let you practice here too.”

You shook your head as you willed the thoughts away. Back then, you didn’t expect yourself to get so close to Nikto, but now here you are, your mind lamenting that he isn’t here and conjuring up memories to compensate after only a few days. How lame you chastised yourself as you finished reloading.

A creak of the floorboards has you whirling around. Oh. It’s that guy again. The masked man who you saw at that celebratory night. Typically, someone of his stature with a mask hiding his features would be intimidating, but with the way he was hunched over with eyes wide like a deer in traffic lights, you weren’t all that concerned. And so, you extended an olive branch.

“Hello-”

The man dashed away.

To be fair in your line of work, half the time you’re grateful if they run away.

With an inward shrug, you turned back to the shooting range. But not before you took one sneaky look at your phone, checking the message you sent to Nikto.

Read 12:35pm.

That bastard.

A fellow troop gave you an encouraging nudge of the shoulder at your irritable expression. There were a lot of reasons you were pissed this morning, the fact it was extra cold, the fact it was extra early, the fact you were extra tired. But whatever it was, it was not because it has been a week and Nikto has not replied to you. Why would you care? This man has only been through hell and back with you on missions, you’ve saved each others lives a good dozen of times and had each other’s back both on the field and off. No sir, this man is completely insignificant to your life.

You felt like a damn child with how petulant you were with your phone now, it felt far too heavy in your thigh pocket as it shook with each step. You were getting phantom vibrations as you could swear you received a text but it was never from him. You really should give Nikto the benefit of the doubt - these missions can be high stakes and confidential - but giving the benefit of the doubt won’t make him reply any sooner either so you’ll keep being petty.

You were encouraged to get a drink at the kitchen before you train. You grumbled to yourself as you headed there (about what, you weren’t sure, you figured just cursing the heavens and everything on this earth would alleviate your anger). But as you went to the kitchen, you had a new reason to hate life.

They changed the coffee machine.

The army had prepared you for a lot of things, you’ve memorised essay long Russian military protocols, you’ve learnt complex weaponry but what the fuck is the machine standing in front of you? Why does it have fifty more buttons than the last one? Why can’t a poor, very lonely feeling soul, just get themselves a humble drink?

You experimentally pressed what you hoped to be the main button, only for the coffee machine to make a disapproving noise. You let out a groan before trying another. There was no response.

You smacked the machine, which ended up hurting you more than it hurt it. Taking a step away, you were ready to punch the mechanical brat, winding your arm back…

Inhale.

Exhale.

A steady breathing brought you out of your rage, only it wasn’t coming from you. Turning around slowly, you found yourself coming face to face with the fully clad man again. You don’t know how this broad figure keeps sneaking up on you, especially when you notice he breathes like Darth Vader. He stood at the centre of the kitchen, a few metres away from you yet still enough for you to feel on edge.

“Uh…” you looked at him curiously. He was too far away to get a good judge of his eyes - it didn’t help that the surrounding skin was coated in an obsidian that blurred his eyebrows and fine lines. But even from this distance, while he was looking at you his gaze seemed to be looking past you. Or perhaps deeper into your soul. Simultaneously focused and not, body still except for the slow heaving of his chest. And that breathing. You figured he was breathing through his mouth with how raspy it was. You had never heard a breath so laboured, it was worse than someone going for a marathon. It was more than his breathing sounding like a chore, it sounded painful, injured.

What sort of new recruit is this?

You figured there’s not much of a point deciphering that, you had more dehydrating problems. Clearing your throat, you gestured to the coffee machine.

“Could you help me with this…?”

There was a few tangible seconds of no response. It was only until you were about to push off the counter to leave did he do a quick jerk of the head and start moving. In a couple of strides he reached the coffee machine. He grabbed two mugs and pressed a convoluted line of buttons which you couldn’t figure out nor memorise. Then the machine made the whirring of good, hard effort and the two of you waited.

A Russian curse had you popping your head into the kitchen. There was Nikto, staring down at the coffee machine harder than he looked down the sights of a sniper rifle. You’re pretty sure victims of his wrath have gone through less than this poor coffee machine right now.

“A watched pot never boils,” you stated.

“A watched coffee machine?”

“Doesn’t look like it works either.”

Nikto groaned, only quietening at your giggle as you stood beside him, getting the coffee beans.

“We do not use these fancy robots for coffee,” Nikto stated idly as he watched you work the coffee machine.

“You make the coffee yourself? Some people would call that fancier.”

He shrugged in acknowledgement.

“What type of coffee?”

“Make me your strongest.”

“Roger that.”

After making his drink, you then made yours. You figured he was just learning through watching, getting mentally familiar with the machine. It was only the next morning you realised he was memorising what you drank, with him sliding it to you across the kitchen counter the instant you entered the room. Steaming hot, the best you’ve ever had it.

This was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to the masked man, able to scrutinise and take a good look at him. His uniform was identical to yours - implying a similar rank - but when you eyed the patch at the front of his clothes, there was no surname provided. In particular, you were more curious in the expanse of skin around the eyes, the only part of him left uncovered. Whatever powder used to darken the surrounding skin in ash black only emphasised it’s rough texture. It wasn’t like the typical soft, sometimes baggy, skin around the mask of the eyes. No, his was taut, as though it was pulled back by an unknown force, where even a microexpression could cause cracks across such parched skin. Perhaps it already did, judging by the maroon bleeding between the cracks.

Against bloodshot eyes were his stormy irises. Dark and deep like the ocean, filled with turmoil. Maybe you misheard and this wasn’t a new recruit, instead someone who transferred. A newbie would never look so jaded already, not as though there were raging seas in their consciousness. A hurricane brewing, ready to devastate while the mind desperately tries to pick up the remaining pieces of self before the next terrifying wave washes over.

“Who are you?” You whispered aloud, almost shocking yourself and causing the man to look at you. He squinted, searching your face. It felt quite intrusive but to be fair you were doing the same a moment ago. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to read your expression or committing your face to memory, either way you remained silent. Eventually he pulled away and just shrugged.

At least he didn’t scurry away like last time, which is a good sign, maybe he actually wanted to know you. Third time’s the charm.

“Well, uh, feel free to call me Seeker,” you replied, offering your hand out to the man.

He stared at it for a moment, contemplating, before his gloved hand took yours. He shook your hand but with his other, he pointed to his throat. That, combined with the obvious scarring and breathing suggested that his voice has been fried. You have no idea how that’s going to work on missions - maybe he really is some silent, deadly ninja. But you suppose an ally’s been made.

You two turn upon hearing the footsteps of a lieutenant as he enters the kitchen. The masked man passes you the drink he made for you before taking off, pushing past the lieutenant, shoulders crashing together when they meet at the doorway. The lieutenant looks back at him before looking back at you.

“Damn, you really are special to him.”

“Sir? I just ran into him at the kitchen,” you raised your eyebrows as he joins you to make a drink of his own.

“Negative, he avoids everyone when possible. All day be mopes around in his room. I can not blame him, he clearly swam through shit’s creek and back.”

“Huh…”

Nodding slowly, you took your cup and returned to your friend with a new tidbit of information. You take a sip.

Your drink is exactly as you liked it.

A scream had you sitting up. It was blaring, right in your ear, bouncing around in your mind, hitting all the nerves that made the hair on your skin stand to attention. You rushed to stand up, only for your legs to get entangled on a blanket as it curled around you like a serpent. Clawing at the fabric you tried to pull it off as you hurriedly looked around for where the scream came from. Maybe you could hear for it again but you couldn’t hear over your racing heart. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, but it was hard as spots in your vision had you looking everywhere and anywhere. Eventually you realised where you were.

You were in your room.

Another one of those nights, huh?

One where your body was at base but your mind was back on a mission, rehearsing each fight and kill over and over again. Your blanket finally relented, releasing your body as you pulled it off with a full sweep of your arm, letting your sweating body finally breathe through your nightwear.

With a heave, you hauled your body out of the bed. You weren’t going back to sleep anytime soon and judging by how dark it was, you have a few more hours until daylight. Getting changed into simple gear, you head out to your special spot at the back of the base. It’s covered in greenery for privacy with a single bulb by the door exit keeping it just light enough to see where you are. No one wanders round the back and it became your go to place when you needed to take your mind off of things.

Opening the door, you were greeted with familiar surroundings. It had been over a month since you last came here, so there were a few changes. One of the bushes had grown exponentially, a tree had lost an overhanging branch, a man was standing slumped against the wall-

What.

Over the last week, you kept seeing the masked man around, despite the words of your lieutenant. To be fair, you only ran into him when you were alone. He somehow knew all the base secrets that took you months to know. You ran into him off the beaten path of a nearby hiking trail, it was part of a new route you made to avoid the hordes of new recruits that jogged around. The old training room neglected for the new one was your personal haven but he found that too - which wasn’t surprising since he seemed pretty introverted. And now he’s found another one of your spots.

You didn’t mind though, he was good enough company… you suppose. He’s started speaking now, only single word sentences. His voice is incredibly raspy, more air than actual vocalisations. Through his broken voice you can still hear the thick coating of a Russian accent. His voice appears to be getting better though, you’ve had to ask him to repeat himself less these days, his tone is a little richer. But oddly enough he seems more reluctant to talk to you, the words he’s spoken to you on the daily you can count on a single hand.

Still, you would be lying if you said you weren’t a little peeved. This spot was meant to be truly isolated for you, allowing you to walk off your stressors, back and forth and back again until you no longer get the horrors of covert warfare flashing in your mind. Or the ability to freely talk to yourself as you sorted your thoughts, free of judgement. But now you have to behave like an actual functioning human.

“Morning,” you mutter, you really need to give him a code name soon if he’s so reluctant to give you his actual name. It’s less of a surprise seeing him around these days, he’s like a phantom cursed to the base, seemingly everywhere all the time. The masked man eyes you curiously, prompting your answer.

“I just needed some fresh air, I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. You’ve heard some of the others during the night, yeah? War catches up to all of us. There’s kind of an unofficial buddy system when it gets too much.”

You’ve gotten quite adept at reading his body cues. A quirk of the head by him. On anyone else it would look cute, like a golden retriever but not on him. While curious, it was commanding, more like an interrogation by the good cop instead of the bad.

“My buddy? Uh, he’s out on a mission right now, I guess. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

You leaned back on a tree, ignoring the pang of your heart. He followed you, standing in front. Caught between a large tree and an equally wide man would have most people shaking, but not for you. It was as though he was trying to make your world smaller, more comprehensible, less terrifying.

“My last mission went well but it doesn’t mean I’m proud of what I did. I just woke up and I couldn’t get it out of my mind.”

He leans forward, listening intently. It was sweet how open his body language is around you.

“It sometimes makes me question enlisting. I never feel like I’m doing the right thing, or if I’m doing it that well. If I did it right it wouldn’t be coming back to haunt me, right?”

You looked at him, trying to look into his eyes but in this darkness with his back facing the light his features morphed together into a faceless silhouette.

“Did you wake up from something similar?”

After a moment of contemplation he responded with a singular nod. And then the two of you were left in an understanding silence.

Upon realising that your hand had an iron grip on your other arm to the extent it will probably leave bruises, you let go. Your free hand was now trembling despite how you willed yourself to calm down. Whispering a curse you tried to shake the nerves out of your limb.

When that didn’t work, the masked man took your shaking hand. Instead of just holding it, he offered a firm but gentle squeeze. It was just the right pressure until he eased his grip, repeating again in a rhythmic motion that was all too familiar.

You weren’t used to the battlefield. The FSB specialised in undercover missions, quiet, slow and methodical. It was more an acting lesson with high stakes than anything, eliminations were more creative than a bullet to the brain, a slow acting poison meant you rarely had to see the consequences of your actions.

But now here you are, deployed as last minute reinforcements. Leaning against the only standing wall in a destroyed house, you tried pushing yourself against the bricks, hoping to assimilate with the wall. You wanted out. This was too much. You weren’t prepared for this. To the east was a distant explosion, it lit up the horizon briefly, but it was more daunting how quickly it went silent. The west and the north held most of the fighting, the darkness briefly lit up by gunfire which would disappear as quickly as it ignited, it burns your irises creating specks in your vision. Your ears were ringing, gunfire from all sides, there was another explosion in the east, there were shouts all around or perhaps it was just your mind screaming at you to leave. There was another yell, that was one of the new privates, even though you’ve never heard them scream like that before you could tell it’s them, this should be their first ever mission, you met them this morning and they seemed really nice, they talked a lot about their younger siblings, they really wanted to see them again you hope they’re okay, oh god what if they’re not-

“Seeker!”

You instinctively push even deeper into the wall, one final ditch effort to get out. You don’t even know who shouted your name until your sight of the battlefield is entirely blocked by the man of the hour.

“You are breathing too quickly,” Nikto stated as he hunched down to your level. Now you were distracted from the battlefield by pure embarrassment. Nikto, in your eyes, was the epitome of a soldier. He’s objective and efficient, and ultimately ruthless when an ally’s performance is subpar without good reason.

“I can’t do this,” you admitted with rushed words, syllables slurring and tumbling over each other. “I’m not- I’ve never been here before. I just work undercover. I can’t be in a war.”

“Only a madman wishes for war,” he says.

You shake your head furiously, looking at anywhere but him. You don’t know how he stays so calm in these situations, you envy it, you admire it. Why couldn’t you just be like him? Your shame is mixed in and swirling with the panic, any more emotions and they’ll rush up and spill from your throat.

“I’m a coward,” you muttered as you pulled your knees up. Nikto frowned as he leans even closer.

“Scared, yes. But you are no coward.”

Nikto looks around before pulling out one of your arms that you had wrapped around yourself. His hand - unoccupied by a weapon - holds onto yours. You return the grip like he’s a lifeline, impossibly tight but he did not wince. Noticing how your gaze was only trained on your connected hands, seemingly fascinated with his presence, he brings your hands up, letting your eyes drift until they settle on his face.

“Take a good look. I am here, I am with you,” Nikto didn’t speak loudly yet you can hear him over the chaos.

He squeezes your hand as your grip on his loosens. It’s gentle, especially through your thick gloves but you can most certainly feel it. It’s a slow, repetitive movement, almost as if he was massaging your hand or resuscitating your limb. A welcoming gesture, grounding you, coaxing you back onto the battlefield. You don’t know how long he keeps at it but he doesn’t relent even with as war rages on, he never misses a beat.

Eventually you narrow in on a shout. It’s oddly close, and in a language you can’t understand.

“Hostiles,” you say simply, with the voice of a soldier.

As you pull your hand away, Nikto lets out a sly grin. You wouldn’t fault anyone else for describing his smile as evil, but to you, it’s a delightful expression.

He hands you back your own pistol.

“Steady your hand, my friend, I need your aim.”

As the masked man’s grip on your hand loosens you immediately pull your arm away. You cradle your arm as if it had been burned. You almost feel like you’ve been violated, your privacy intruded on. That little intimate gesture was done by Nikto, for Nikto and him alone. That single gesture sent memories flooding into your mind. From moments just before a battle to waking up in the dead of night with the horrors of battle invading your sight. That gesture alone saved you an ungodly amount of times. It must be a cruel, cruel coincidence, but you couldn’t stop the scowl climbing on your face. Your eyes were locked on him and he was staring back. Screw you for extending an olive branch and screw him for actually accepting it. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Waltzing up and treating you with utmost care like he could replace a dear ally of yours?

No, you weren’t tolerating it.

Your body may be behind a base in the dead of night, but your mind was on the battlefield. And in that moment, it only knew how to push back and fight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you seethed. Despite your most intimidating expression, he does not flinch. He doesn’t even move. For once it is purely silent between you two as he holds his breath.

What was he waiting for? Did he need further instruction? You were more than willing to issue them out.

You pushed yourself off the tree trunk, almost launching yourself straight into the man’s chest had he not lunged back.

“Who do you think you are?” You hissed. “I don’t know why you keep hanging around or following me. I don’t know much about you and I’m an idiot who keeps talking my head off. But you know too much. I don’t know how but you do. Maybe I’m just too easy to read. We’re not best friends, you don’t have the right to do that to me. You just- you just don’t.”

You sounded a lot more eloquent in your mind. You don’t even know the point you’re trying to make anymore, but the only possible course of action in your addled brain is confrontation. And it seems like a victory as you make the man retreat, halfway to where the door is.

“Leave me alone.”

He hesitates. Almost as though he’s concerned for your wellbeing, or maybe he’s just pitying you which feels worse. He then dips his head in acknowledgement, before simply walking away. Not without one final look at you, you can’t tell if it’s because he wants you to change your mind or if he’s so selfless he just wants to check you’re okay, but it’s not looking good on either front.

Once you heard the click of the door closing again, you flexed your now empty hand as you grimaced. You hated how you were missing his presence already. At least you were now free to pace back and forth and talk to yourself to your heart’s content.

After another two days Nikto finally replied to your text. He took his damn time. He said he was sorry for his absence, welcoming back to the base and that he hoped to see you around again. But those felt like empty words when he didn’t even give an estimate to when he’ll be back.

You frowned as you read the text, almost throwing it across the room as you sat in the common area. You’ll reply later. If his texting game can be ass, so can yours (at least that’s you tell yourself but you’ll probably respond to him in a few hours). With nothing else to do, you found yourself eavesdropping on two other sergeants.

“You know, I was thinking of a name for the masked menace.”

You rolled your eyes, it turns out you can’t avoid the masked guy even when he’s not physically around.

“Oh yeah, what?”

“Freakshow. Got that idea the instant we fished him out of Zhakaev’s compound. His face is fucked, not even a mother could love that.”

“Quiet, he could beat us up.”

“Maybe before, not now. Punching someone would probably break his own arm. Or the skin at least. Definitely the skin.”

“Easy, now. That’s your comrade.”

Despite your conflicting feelings towards the masked man, this was just downright cruel. All it took was a sideways glance from you (and perhaps giving them a bit of an earful) and the two shut up.

Pulling back, you reread Nikto’s text. You were overanalysing, you knew that, he’s always been a direct and honest man but there was something about his message that was bothering you. Even though you have barely texted him, you were sure his physical behaviour could translate to mobile. He was punctual, he replied efficiently with just enough words to give the maximum amount of necessary information. But the sentences you were reading were far too long, like he’s trying to compensate. Like he’s lying.

You decided the next best course of action was to clear your mind at the shooting range. It was a quiet time, most people would be eating lunch about now, so you were sure your go to aisle would be free. As you entered you could already hear the distant shooting of a gun. The ceiling light casting a shadow over the figure that stretched across the booth and into your view. They were in the last aisle.

In a form of psychological warfare, you take the aisle next to the shooter in hopes they’ll get the idea to scram. There’s a break in their shooting as they notice where you’re situated and you can’t help but smirk, only for it to drop when you realise who’s in the next aisle.

That rugged breathing was in mistakeable. So rugged it dried out your own throat. God why did it have to be him? Leaning on the bench in the booth, head down, you took a few deep breaths as you considered your next course of action.

You had to admit, perhaps the last time you interacted you weren’t in the best of mind. But upon reflection all your interactions with the man are starting to putting you on edge. It could be pure coincidence - whatever god out there taunting you that you got a little crush on some Russian guy that left you on read - and you put your bitterness on him. He didn’t deserve your anger.

Hands in your pockets, you tried to nonchalantly wander towards the aisle next to you. The man kept shooting but you were sure it was just a farce. He knew you were behind him.

“Uh… I just thought you should know that one of the boys is trying to make a callsign for you.”

Real smooth, Seeker.

He stops shooting but his position is fixed, aiming down the aisle.

“It’s not that great. It’s terrible, actually.”

The safety of the gun is switched and it’s put in his holster. He turns to you.

“They wanted to call you ‘Freakshow’ but after a word with them I don’t think they will.”

At the name, he tensed. You were too far away to give him anything more than a sympathetic shake of the head.

“I could probably come up with a new one for you? I’m not the best with names but with a bar as low as the one they set I can come up with something.”

A foreign sound escaped the man. A rush if air through his throat, a wheeze, before it sent his shoulders hitching repeatedly. A chuckle. You looked on in surprise, he was laughing.

Offering a small smile back you said you’ll get back to him in a few minutes as you returned to your aisle beside him. Wanting something to occupy your fingers as you pondered, you instinctively pulled out your phone and went to your texts. A casual reply back to Nikto wouldn’t hurt. You could probably just ask him some funny Russian nicknames to give your ally. Maybe you could name him after a masked hero or villain?

Satisfied with the text you wanted to send to Nikto, you hit send.

Ding!

Your head jolted to the thin barrier between the booths. That sound didn’t come from your phone. Never had such a small sound set your heart ablaze but your blood go cold. Limbs like jelly, you haphazardly stumbled over to the booth next to you. The masked man, phone in hand. Upon turning on the screen to preview the message, his eyes went up to you and you almost doubled over at the contact. Those dark, clear eyes, so alarmed, so scared. Yours probably looked the same.

You wanted to open your mouth but no words came out. Save for one word that was on your tongue, one name. Why was it, when you’ve been waiting for him, you’re scared of saying the name?

“… Nikto…?”

The figure visibly deflated before squaring his shoulders, ready for confrontation.

“Seeker,” he greeted, and you can hear it now. You can hear that familiar earthy warmth in his voice, how it complimented and mixed so nicely with his accent. It was, however, dominated by the excessive air in his throat, making it scratchy and gravelly, near unrecognisable.

Your arms started to wrap around your torso, your mind racing.

“Brother Nikto is busy, he’s on field duty for the next few days.”

“Yes, new guy. Don’t have a name for him yet. Probably shouldn’t ask.”

“All he does is mope around in his room now.”

“Damn, you really are special to him.”

The man in front of you, seemed to know everything about you because he did. He’s been with you while you were waiting for him all these weeks.

And yet, instead of joy, your mind was only swarming with other emotions. Disappointment becoming dizzying as you failed to recognise him. Confusion as to why he didn’t try to let you know it was him. Betrayal tasted bitter on your mouth as he dared lie to you.

“I can not blame him, he clearly swam through shit’s creek and back.”

“Got that idea the instant we fished him out of Zhakaev’s compound. His face is fucked, not even a mother could love that.”

Ultimately it all boiled down to dread, as you try to merge the Nikto you bid farewell to all those weeks ago to the fully clad man standing before you.

“Oh my god,” you covered your mouth with your hand as you took in his figure. Had all this happened in the month you were gone? His body and face so battered and bruised beyond recognition that not even you recognised him? Every artificial ridge on his skin told a horrifying story that you have not read yet, and frankly you’re not sure you can even stomach it.

Nikto must’ve taken your response as disgust, and he bowed his head down.

“I…” he couldn’t find the right words to say. Every syllable he spoke stabbed your heart, you remembered how effortless and smooth his voice once was.

“Mission with Zhakaev…” Nikto’s throat gave way with every phrase, ending with hacks and wheezes. You lifted a tentative hand up, telling him he didn’t need to force himself to speak but he persevered. “Went undercover, was found out, tortured for-”

The words were stuck in his throat. He shook his head negatively, as he ended up turning away from you.

“I have failed.”

You rushed to Nikto and pulled him into your arms. He let out a gutteral sound of surprise. You realised a little too late he was never one for affection, but eventually you felt his arms against your back and waist. His hold was still too light, as if he was afraid of your comfort. You placed a hand to the back of his head, gently guiding it to settle in the nook of your neck.

“No. You’re back here. That’s success to me.”

He didn’t reply. You knew it would be hard for him to agree with your views. Anything less than efficient on the battlefield should be chastised - and that included himself. The hand you threaded through his dry and charred locks started combing his hair gently, careful not to pull any strands.

“Still… I… I don’t understand. The others told me you were on a mission. Were they in on it too?”

“Yes,” Nikto mumbled, his voice making his mask vibrate and tickle against your neck. “They would not lie to you. I had to beg.”

“But why?”

His hold on you tightens, the curve of his mask digging deeper into your neck.

“Shame, for how I have changed. Fear, for what you’d think once you saw me.”

“Then… why did I keep seeing you around?”

“Selfishness,” he confessed. “I wanted to avoid you, but I yearned. Needed to see you again. It was a long month, without you.”

The hurt in your heart spread to the rest of your chest and stomach, birthing butterflies that made you feel nauseous. You could not comprehend how difficult his last month had been. To be stuck suffering in enemy territory, found on the brink of death and to recover all alone. How hurt had he been that he thought you would not want him around?

“Do you really think I’d care about your appearance?”

“No, but look,” he choked, but he doesn’t even pull back to let you do so. Instead his arms become constricting like a weighted blanket, there’s more resistance as you try to breathe in. As you breathe out he inches a little closer, refusing to let there be any space between you. “This face, this body, this mind… is destroyed. What was rescued… was not the same, as the man that was captured.”

“Nikto-”

“All that remains,” he muttered, “is shame.”

“But you’ve done so much-“

“I have failed,” he repeated.

“You risked your life for valuable information-”

“We- no, I?” You can hear his frown as he tilts his head away to look down at his chest. Perhaps he expected there to be a hole where his heart was, a fragmented soul. “I am broken.”

“Andre Nikto,” you commanded, dragging him out of his train of thought. You mustered the strength to push away from him. Taking his hand that was wrapped around your waist, you gingerly picked it up, and brought it between you. Bringing his attention to your intertwined hands, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. And then again. Slowly, just enough pressure to ground him and keep his focus on you and not on whatever demons were running amok in his mind. Your next words were steady, well-paced, ensuring he understood every syllable.

“Look at me. I don’t care how much you have changed while I was away. I am just happy I can see you again and I will always want to see you again.”

“You-“ he continues to shake his head in disagreement. “You deserve… so much more. My worth… there is none here. Only as cannon fodder on the field.”

“No, you are so unbelievably strong.”

You brought your other hand to cup his face. Initially you could only feel the coolness of the mask, but after a few seconds his body heat reached your palm.

“I admired you then and I admire you now. Nikto… if only you could see yourself how I see you. I want to stand by your side.”

Nikto is silent as he stares you down. You’ve seen him do it before, in arguments, in interrogations. It’s his go-to tactic to intimidate, to break. But now, it is his final resort. With eyes as piercing as his, seemingly able to peer into someone’s soul, his silent staring has always been able to ruin anyone’s resolve. But you weren’t just anyone. You are someone who fell in love under that intense gaze, and you communicate that as you refuse to look away.

Eventually he lets out a breath as he breaks eye contact, deciding to settle his gaze on the rest of your figure. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him almost bashful, it was endearing.

“You are always… so stubborn.”

“I accept all of you,” you cooed before you hardened your voice. “But if you pull a stunt on me like that again - pretending you’re not around and prancing around as someone else - I will claim this shooting aisle as mine.”

Nikto’s eyes turn into crescents, crinkling as he grins. Watching his textured skin warp and wrinkle has you worried that even smiling hurts, but you can’t deny that he looks at ease.

“A fair deal,” he affirms.

Now knowing you weren’t going to run away from him, Nikto is comfortable enough to let you go, and you loosened your grip on his hand. But before his hands properly drop to his sides, you reach over and place a kiss on his mask. You hoped it was somewhat romantic, but it didn’t help how the smoothness of his mask made your lips slip a little. Your aim was a little off too, you aimed for where his mouth would be but it seems you kissed him more on the philtrum.

Still, the wide eyed look was one you have never seen on Nikto before and you were going to savour that for all of eternity.

“You came here to shoot, yes?” Nikto asked when he got himself out of his stupor and you nodded. “There is less on the mind now. Take the booth.”

“What, and you’ll just watch?”

“As always,” he replied, eyes shining with mirth.

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #nikto x reader #mwii nikto #cod nikto #call of duty fanfic #/*avery actually writes*/

[veeaxx]

— EXAMS ★ their s/o pushes themself to study for the upcoming exams, but it might be getting out of hand.

note: this is a no overworking zone, rest if you need rest!! m.list is here characters: various haikyuu boys x reader

— SUGAWARA KOSHI

⋆ seeing as suga does tutor the first years sometimes, this isn't something new to him.

⋆ in fact, this is quite the common sight. he sees the first/second years stress over their exams all the time.

⋆ yet, he does get overall concerned for them.

⋆ if i know one thing, exams are important but YOU definitely come first!

⋆ what if they get too stressed and pass out? what if they prioritize studies over their own well-being?

⋆ suga's mom instincts kicking in: 🏃💨

⋆ so when he sees you studying for the exams yourself, he can't help but think how determined you are.

⋆ his cute, adorable s/o set on one goal, passing the exams..he finds it cute.

⋆ he does joke about it quite a bit. poking your cheek from time to time all while he softly coos at you. "determined, aren't we? hehe."

⋆ he does understand your concentration though, he will leave you be to avoid distracting you of course!

⋆ he doesn't think much of it at first, studying is a normal sight, obviously. it's even more normal with you, because you two have study dates all the time.

⋆ still cautious about you stressing yourself though. he'll brush it off in the meantime, but he won't forget.

⋆ a few hours pass by. he's gone to volleyball practice, done a few school-works, etc. he can't wait to relax.

⋆ he hums softly before taking out his phone to check the time, it nearly being evening.

⋆ slowly opening the classroom door "time to go home sugar,” he says softly.

⋆ his eyes widen in slight surprise as he sees you there, multiple empty cans of energy drinks, cluttered papers, and notes around your desk.

⋆ your eyes snapping open from time to time as you try to avoid snoozing off.

⋆ as cute as it may sound, he's genuinely concerned. like 😥

⋆ he walks over to you, slowly tapping your shoulder as your eyes flinch open. you rub your eyes before looking up, seeing the concerned smile of your boyfriend.

⋆ "oh, hey suga.." he chuckles quietly. "you look exhausted, sugar. maybe you should rest."

⋆ you whine, "but i need to stud—" he softly shushes you, helping you get up from your chair. "baby, exams are still in a few days. yet here you are worrying your pretty little head." he says.

⋆ "take a break, love. we can get some snacks before we go home, okay?" suga hand in marriage now 💳💥💥💥💳💥💥

⋆ there's no over-studying when suga's around.

⋆ baby would literally pamper you till all the stress goes away!

⋆ no doubt has beef with the subjects you're studying for, like how dare you make my bby stress out 😤

⋆ very good boyfriend, 11/10!

— DAICHI SAWAMURA

⋆ he also knows how it feels, studying for a complicated exam.

⋆ not that daichi has bad grades, but because he also sees his underclassmen having quite a hard time.

⋆ he's also fairly concerned, not only because you're his partner, but because he cares about you. he can't forgive himself if something happens to you :((

⋆ although, seeing you study does motivate him to as well.

⋆ his baby's so determined to pass the examinations..how cute!

⋆ that doesn't stop him from trying to prevent anything from happening to you though.

⋆ "hey, make sure to take a break, alright?" he murmurs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "yes i will, daichi, love." you reply, smiling.

⋆ will leave you alone if you ask him to! he doesn't want to distract anyone here. he might as well attend volleyball practice—and come back for you later.

⋆ and so, he does. as soon as he finishes practice, he sends you a text saying he'll walk you home.

⋆ however, his message remains unseen despite being sent. which is quite odd, as you always would reply immediately.

⋆ "maybe they're busy.." is what he thinks.

⋆ but when he opens the door, oh boy, he's in for a surprise.

⋆ his s/o, knocked out on the desk, nearly snoring. papers and a few notebooks clattered around.

⋆ his eyes are wide, because this is exactly what he had thought of happening. walking over to you, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, sighing in concern.

⋆ "i thought i told you to rest, sweetheart.." he mumbles quietly, not wanting to wake you up.

⋆ as if on cue, you slowly open your eyes before locking contact with your boyfriend. "oh, hi daichi..what time is it?" you ask, rubbing your eyes.

⋆ he sighs once again, ruffling your hair. "enough studying, baby. you better rest." he replies.

⋆ if you try saying no, it's quite useless. he'll keep saying no to over-studying again.

⋆ will get you anything to make sure you feel better and less-stressed.

⋆ he'll ask the teacher to excuse you if needed.

⋆ once you finally get the rest you need (most likely a nap), he'll be the happiest person alive.

⋆ "sleep well, babe." he mutters as he kisses your forehead.

— TSUKISHIMA KEI

⋆ quite annoyed how you insist you're fine, yet you're clearly tired.

⋆ "tch..stop insisting you're alright, idiot." bakugo vibes frfr 🫡

⋆ but if you really insist, then sure, he'll leave you be.

⋆ he's really concerned though, trust me.

⋆ he just won't show it much because he's being tsukki.

⋆ tsukishima is no doubt smart, which earns him loads of people asking for help on studying.

⋆ with his sour demeanor however, he turns them down as yamaguchi apologizes on his behalf. or he'll snicker with tsukki, lol

⋆ but if you ask, oh, that's a different story. he'll oblige on one condition, buy him some strawberry shortcake.

⋆ anywhooo—while studying, he keeps an eye on you, especially if he can see you're tired.

⋆ if he needs to go to practice, he'll politely ask one of your classmates (or his, if you're both in the same class) to watch over you until he comes back.

⋆ tsukki being kind since when?!! 🫢

⋆ "hey, watch over y/n for me. leave them and you're dead, got it?" nvm he's still rude as ever 🫠

⋆ also sends you a text as soon as he finishes, but if there's no reply he's sour and worried af lol

⋆ imagine, he opens the door calmly, and sees you passed out.

⋆ if the classmate assigned to watch you was still there, he'll actually be kind and thank them all while quietly ushering them out.

⋆ once he's alone with you, he'll sigh softly before sitting down to you.

⋆ "i thought i told you to rest, stupid." he says before taking another look at your sleeping face.

⋆ you looking all pretty sleeping brings a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. kissing your forehead, his blush only turns redder, oh you'd be teasing him all the time if you were awake.

⋆ when you do wake up, he'll be back to his normal self.

⋆ no excuses, you're taking a break from studying. no ifs and no buts either!

⋆ what'll the teacher say? don't worry, he's taken care of that. hungry? he's got your favorite snacks at the ready. cuddles? sure, just this once.

⋆ ask and you'll receive ;)

⋆ will always accompany you to study after that.

⋆ he's really the the sweetest boyfriend, but just for you.

⋆ and by the way, when he kissed you—you weren't even sleeping 🤫

— SATORI TENDOU

⋆ this goofy lil mf !!!

⋆ will tease you on purpose to mess with you, and he gets you everytime.

⋆ i mean, since you're studying he might as well tag along and study too.

⋆ can't leave his precious baby studying alone, can he?

⋆ while it may seem like tendou does not take anything seriously, he knows when someone may have pushed boundaries a lil too far.

⋆ in this case, you pushing your own boundaries by overworking yourself to study.

⋆ satori's pretty smart, in and out of volleyball. don't think you can fool him that easily, dear 😞

⋆ "oh y/n my love~~ don't overwork yourself too much!" "awe.. you're such a sweetie, tendou." "only for you, my sunshine~!" 🥹💕

⋆ he literally needs to go to practice but is still clinging onto you like a koala.

⋆ if you do happen to convince him to attend practice, he will be thinking about you the whole time. he might even mess up a bit because he already misses you that much.

⋆ "oi, tendou! get your head out of the clouds and play well!" semi shouts from the other side of the court, earning a teasing broken-hearted look from the middle blocker. "ouch, semisemi's so harsh!"

⋆ when on the way back after practice, he can't help but have quite the happy mood.

⋆ yknow, you guys could ask each other questions to review, or take down notes together, or—

⋆ his thoughts come to a halt when he sees his lover, in their desk with a look of pure exhaustion on their face. "oh, you're back, babe." you say, before yawning.

⋆ "could you wait just a lil bit more? i gotta tackle this last part—" you mumble, before closing your mouth in your boyfriend's presence.

⋆ "enough studying, baby! look at you, so stressed out and tired." he continues, "how could you do this to yourself?!" your eyes widen in slight surprise as your boyfriend exaggerated nearly every detail of your actions, it's actually quite cute seeing him ramble.

⋆ "t-tendou, i'm fine, baby." you reply, holding his face softly. "you're so cute when you're worried."

⋆ a blush makes it's way onto tendou's face. "i know you think you're fine, y/n-chan. but the way i see it, you're tired, my love." he continues, "rest, sunshine! it'll refresh you a lot, promise."

⋆ tendou touching our hearts fr 💘

⋆ long story short, he's very mindful about studying now. he's gotta be there with you!

⋆ also, he will always let you take breaks if needed! tendou's got snacks, cuddles and anything you'd like at the ready~

⋆ "take good care of yourself, my love!" he exclaims before kissing you, making you giggle.

⋆ "yes, tendou, my love. i won't forget this time." you reply, holding his hand.

⋆ oh man, he really loves you.

— KENMA KOZUME

⋆ kenma himself is quite smart. some may think he only prioritizes video games—but in reality, studies are something he maintains.

⋆ and besides, to complete some of his games, you're required to solve puzzles to move onto a level !!

⋆ so technically, he never lacked smarts in the first place.

⋆ kenma also hates being burnt out, and due to that, he usually requires a study partner to be able to check on him.

⋆ back then, it would always be kuroo—and it remained the same, until he started studying with you.

⋆ i am not implying he replaced rooster head btw 😢

⋆ and throughout time, he started to notice how you'd stay up quite late just to study.

⋆ on one point, staying up late is something he does all the time. but he's aware it could have negative health benefits.

⋆ and so, he'd try his absolute best to remind you that you should take breaks once in awhile.

⋆ "rest, babe." he whispered. "hm? what was that, kenma?" you say, turning your head to face him. "i said you should rest, i don't like seeing you tired.." he replied, blushing softly.

⋆ you always give him the same "i will!" which makes him think you're lying.

⋆ he does trust you, but do you really think he believes that 🤨

⋆ anywho, he does understand that you need to study, so he'll leave you be.

⋆ is lowkey the type to send someone to spy on you/j

⋆ i mean, he'll see you after anyway, not much of a big deal.

⋆ atleast, that's what he thinks. but the moment he sees you again, oh boy..

⋆ it's as if a tornado came and wrecked everything.

⋆ i'm exaggerating ofc, but yk what i mean 👍

⋆ letting out a soft sigh, he walks over to your cluttered desk, crouching to be able to see your exhausted expression.

⋆ "hey, kenma...what's up?" you ask, straightening your form as you look at your partner lovingly, albeit visibly tired.

⋆ "you look tired, bunny." he mutters, being careful not to raise his voice too much to avoid making you surprised.

⋆ "haha..yeah, math's taking a toll on me, hun." you reply, yawning while stretching your arms in the air.

⋆ "i promise, i'm almost done, maybe 5 more minutes?" you continue, looking at the clock on the wall, which makes kenma look at you in disbelief.

⋆ he softly grabs your hand, blushing a bit due to embarrassment. "kenma?" you ask, "is something wrong?" you ask. "bunny, don't overwork yourself. you look exhausted, let's take a break." he replies, rubbing your hand softly.

⋆ surprised at the little gesture of affection, your eyes widen, as if it's the first day you saw kenma. such a sweetheart.

⋆ giving up the act, you smile and nod. "sure, let's take a break, love." which in return, makes him smile as you stood up from your chair.

⋆ if the message wasn't already clear, you're not sneaking off to study, that's a nono!!

⋆ if you need anything, kenma will literally go out of his way to get it for you (that is, if it is obtainable in the first place).

⋆ most importantly, if you just want to rest with him, he'll oblige to that too!

⋆ he's really just concerned, so don't get him worried again, or else he might as well drag you to play a game with him on his psp, heheh.

⋆ "you did well, y/n. i'm proud of you." he mumbles, stroking your hair.

⋆ boyfriend material !!!!

HAIKYUU TAGLIST: @millenialfanfictionaddiction, @queen-aria-things

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO @VEEAXX, DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyu! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #sugawara koshi x reader #sugawara koshi #sugawara x reader #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tendou satori #tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #veda's accomplished works ✧ #decided to get back into haikyuu for a bit<33

[lexsssu]

Elixir (Jafar)

TAGS: Jafar/Dragoness!reader, aphrodisiacs, smut, oneshot Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“...How could you let this happen? Wait, don’t answer that. I’m afraid if I hear what you have to say the headache will get even worse.”

“It’s not like I wanted or expected for something like this to happen, you know…”

“I swear to god, Sin. Drakon will have our heads if he finds out that we let this happen under our watch!”

“Okay, okay! I get it! But there’s nothing else we can do right now aside from help her with it! What she needs right now is you, Ja’far and don’t think I didn’t notice those looks you’ve been giving each other all the time even back in Sindria.”

The former assassin is unable to refute his liege’s words, biting his lower lip as he glared at the purple-haired man before sighing and rubbing his temples.

“...Are you sure there’s no other way?”

“Ja’far, she was poisoned with the [Elixir of A Thousand & One Nights] . There’s no way she can deal with it herself. Now, if you’re really that averse to helping then I can ask Masrur instead. The big guy’s been pent up lately plus he gets along quite well with her—”

“I’ll do it”

“Wonderful. I’ll take Masrur out with me while you deal with her in the meantime. Feel free to thank me later~”

“...Why do I even put up with you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ehehehe...our thing’s are kissing, Ja’far. Can you feel it? You’re so deep inside of me…”

How did he get in this situation again? One moment he was silently stepping into your room and the next thing he knew, he’s pinned beneath your soft weight on the carpeted floors.

Your smooth cheeks lit up with a flush of red and your golden eyes seemed even brighter now or maybe that was just because he was underneath you while you rode him without restraint. Small hands pinned his own rough and calloused ones above him, but it is the way you wrap so deliciously around him, how your hips gyrated and undulated as your moist depths took in every inch of him with gusto that prevented the adviser from even thinking about leaving this paradise.

It is an open secret in Sindria and especially within Sinbad’s circle of friends and subordinates how the adopted daughter picked up by Drakon caught the fancy of his most trusted aide. You were a young woman washed ashore with no memory of how you got here and had no one looking for her from wherever she may have come from. It was only natural that Sindria would welcome you with open arms.

The draconic features you sported quickly endeared you to Drakon and his wife, the currently childless couple adopting you overnight despite you being old enough to have children of your own. It is no surprise that Drakon treated you like a priceless treasure, a pearl within his palm.

And here Ja’far was, enjoying himself as you fucked yourself on his cock on the floor as if you were both nothing but a pair of wild animals with nothing on their minds except the need to procreate.

He knows he should have pushed you off before you even slipped the leaking tip of his cock in your dripping cunt. He should have restrained you as soon as he walked through those doors. He should not be snapping his own hips upwards in tandem with your own movements. He definitely should not be cumming inside you right now after your own climax has your pussy convulsing and squeezing his cock as if asking for his own essence.

The pale-haired man lost count of how many times he came, how many positions he had you in after the first time. All he knows is that you are now sleeping soundly within the cage of his arms on the plush bed, marks littering your bodies like paint on canvas.

“I guess this means I’ll have to take responsibility for you...Solomon, give me strength…”

You are unaware of his dread at having to face your father as only a blissful and sated smile decorated your lips while you basked in the warmth of his body.

#lexsssu writes #magi x reader #magi kingdom of magic #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi labyrinth of magic #jafar x reader #magi jafar x reader #crossposted on ao3

[dckweed]

Sooo glad you posted a second part of the Jakex best friend baby story. A huuuge hug for you =) so in a matter of fact I squealed a bit as I read that you're accepting requests for this story. So I would have an idea, maybe you like it, if not I'm still going to read EVERYTHING you write =)

I'm thinking of reader is feeling off for days, like feeling dizzy and stressed out. The nausea is also taking a toll on her. One evening at the Hard Deck with the whole squad a woman is approaching Jake... Unfortunately it's his ex girlfriend. She immediately flirts with him and making the reader really uncomfortable. Jake tries to get rid of his bitchy ex by showing off reader and introducing her to his ex. She's already sporting a small bump, which his ex notices. Later reader goes to the bathroom, not feeling so hot, but Jake's ex follows her and corners her at the bathroom insulting reader for being a slut, being pregnant and stealing Jake, absolutely stressing the pregnant woman out. After her harassment she leaves the bathroom leaving reader alone. The whole situation worsens her feeling sick and she collapses in one of the stalls.

Just need some huuuge whump and Jake and the Daggers being protective. Maybe you can use some of my ideas.

P.S.: it's so brave that you share your personal story here with us. You're a strong young woman. I belive in you!

hiii thank you for sending this in! absolutely love the idea! and thank you so much, i feel like eating disorders and the struggles that come with them aren't something thats spoken of enough and i really would like to bring awareness by sharing my own story :) so, if anyone has any questions about that, feel free to send them in ! I'm here to advocate and be a voice..if you think you have one or know someone who does and dont know how or where to get help, i got you, if you're wondering how to cope with symptoms, i got you!

in the meantime however, i give you my comfort loves, jake and babygirl! please feel free to send in any requests, comments or thoughts that you may have for this particular series ! and in lieu of halloween, this is officially halloween themed.

p.s. how are we doing today? are we hydrated? have we had a snack or two? this is your reminder to go do both if you haven't already! also does someone want to possibly make a boodboard for jake and babygirl?? full credit would go to you in every post if i use it !

warnings: elusions to sex and actual soft sex mentioned and described as well as cockwarming briefly mentioned, pregnancy, fainting, hospitals, grown adults bullying essentially

the babygirl series part three, part two here

BABYGIRL, the playlist

INSECURITIES. jake 'hangman' seresin

Your breathing was even as you layed on your back, one of your legs caught between his. The NAVY tshirt you were wearing (his navy tshirt) rode up to rest just beneath your glorious breasts with your arms raised up, one tucked under the pillow next to your head, the other laid across his chest, your tummy on full display. You had been with him for just over a month now, having extended your two week vacation indefinitely. He knew you two would have to fly home sometime soon, to pack up the things in your apartment and eventually make your way over to your families ranch's to let them know what was going on, but he didn't want to think about that, not now when had what felt like all the time in the world to admire you.

Your stomach rose and fell with every breath and almost instinctively he finds his hand resting there, thumb rubbing gently back and forth over the small but slowly growing more prominent baby bump you were beginning to sport. You had been shy about him doing that, and he knew that it was because in the back of your mind, that little baby growing in you hadn't come from him, but if you asked him, that little girl in there was his, even without the Seresin blood. He hadn't ran away or called you names when you had told him, infact, it had only drawn him to you more. You were his, and so was the little miracle you were growing and he wasn't afraid to admit it either. Hell, he had gone that night to the Hard Deck, a dopey grin on his face as he walked in with your hand in his and had announced it to the entire bar, happily telling his friends and Penny about the bun in your proverbial oven. He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

You shift after another moment, a small groan coming from your throat as you turn towards him, head pressed against his chest now. He presses a content kiss to the top of your messy hair adjusting you so that his arm was under you now, holding you against him. The bedroom was still dark but sunlight was slowly starting to seep through the small slit in the curtains, lighting up a small patch of the floor and the bed. He wondered if he should get up and open the window for you, maybe brew a pot of the decaf coffee he'd immediately switched you to when he found out about the baby.

He's about to decide against the thoughts, not wanting to wake you, not when you were sleeping so soundly after having a rough week of being sick and uncomfortable, you beat him to it though, your soft whine reaching his ears. "Mornin' babygirl.." He says, southern accent more prominent in his gruff morning voice. A smile spreads across his lips, as easy as butter glides across toasts as you lift your head up slowly, sleepy eyes meeting his before planting a long and slow good morning kiss on him. "You were sleeping so good, i didn't want to wake you up.."

You hum, trying to gather your sleepy wits about you, even though it had only been a month, jake was usually the only thing you noticed in the mornings, his warmth and love completely enveloping you, the only thing your mind could register besides the nausea usually rolling in your tummy, so it took you a moment to fully wake up.

After a few minutes of snuggling into your boyfriend, his hand rubbing your belly almost soothingly, you decide that you don't feel queasy enough to run to the bathroom right away (a godsend, really) and you shift yourself so that you're sitting atop of him, legs on either side of his hips, comforter slouched around your legs.

He looks up at you with an amused smile, large hands gliding up your thighs to land on your hips, just underneath of the baggy tshirt you'd stolen from him. "Somethin' i can help you with?" He asks, sleepy southern drawl sending shockwaves through your body as the hands on your hips grind you down against him, you were still bare from the night before, the two of you having stayed up late together just making love to each other.

You were insatiable when it came to him, maybe it was years of pent up sexual tension, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just that you guys were so perfect for each other that you literally could not get enough of one another, whatever it was though, neither of you was complaining. You had never been more satisfied from just one single touch before, had never been left craving more of the person you were with until you had been with Jake.

"Have time for a proper good morning, fly boy?" You ask teasingly, already lifting the hem of your shirt to toss it onto the floor, which was where most of your clothes had been finding their home these days when it came to the bedroom.

"Keep it on for me, babygirl, want you to wear it while i watch you ride me," You hadn't even noticed that one of his hands had already been between your bodies, but he was sliding his cock out of his boxers and gliding you down onto it as he spoke, a sigh of pleasure already leaving your lips before you're even sunk down fully onto him. "Feel so good babygirl," He groans, already pussy drunk off of you.

His fingers grip tighter onto your hips as you ride him lazily, hips moving back and forth in a languid but pleasurable pace, his hips bucking up into yours softly. "Jake," You whine, hands planted on his hard chest, fingers curled into the coarse hairs that scattered there, he grunts in response as he thrusts up into you, his massive hands pulling you down to meet his cock with each one. "so full baby, feels so good jakey.." Your words only fueled his ego, his eyebrows furrowing as he pumps up into you, you were both still overly sensitive from the night before and he knew that he wasn't going to last long, and neither were you judging by the way your nails dug into the skin of his chest.

Jake furrows his brows deeper, watching your face contort with pleasure as he continues to slowly fuck up into your overly sensitive body, his own toes curling into the mattress as he tries to stave off his own orgasm, a feat proving much harder than he had originally thought with the noises that escaped you and the way your pussy felt clamping around him right then.. "..so pretty, babygirl, always so fucking pretty for me.." He grunts out, feeling the way you clench down on him, hearing the whine come from your throat as you cum, your thighs shaking on either side of him. "..that's it baby, thats it.." He says, not too far behind you. He cums as your body sags against his, his hands on your ass the only thing holding you steady as you bury your head in his neck, leaving small kisses along the top of his collar bone.

"..Do you have to go to work, baby?" You ask, lifting your head up to look at him, the pout that he had never been able to say no to adorning your lips.

You can't help but smirk a little as your boyfriend throws his head back with a groan, one of his hands snaking its way up your back. "Babygirl, i would give anything to stay home with you attached to me like this all day long," his voice is thick, that accent ever so present as he tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear. "but i gotta go to work, we're running flight trainings today.." Though they were a permanent mission squad within the TOP GUN training academy, they weren't always training for missions and today was one of those days where they got to run flights with the newer admissions who all thought they were the shit. Otherwise known as, Jake Seresin Gets To Show Off day.

You groan and drop your head to his chest, listening to him chuckle at you before he kisses the top of your head. "Fine, shower with me?" You lift your head up, a playful waggle to your eyebrows that he just can't say no to.

"I think that can be arranged." He says with a smile, his arms wrapping around your ass to hold you as he swiftly stands up with you, making you squeal in surprise as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him in fear of falling. Your ass meets the cold counter of the bathroom sink as he sets you down on it, peppering your face with kisses as he flips the light switch, making you giggle and smile that beautiful smile he loved so much. "Don't move."

"Yes Sir!" You chuckle, watching as he opens the shower door and steps in, turning it on. "Make sure its hot baby!" You instruct, practically feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head despite doing as you said.

"I will never understand you and the volcanic level of hot water you bathe in, how do you even have skin left?" He asks, voice serious as he walks over to you, stepping between your legs as he reaches behind you to turn the faucet on with one hand while the other reaches above your head, grabbing the bottle he'd seen you use every morning since you'd been with him.

"It's relaxing!" You argue, voice raising an octave as you try not to laugh at him when he suddenly splashes your face with cold water. "Excuse me for not liking to take an ice plunge every time i step into the shower," You cackle, causing him to start laughing as he brings his hands to your cheeks, gently rubbing them with your favorite facial cleanser. You hadn't even noticed him put it on his fingers, but it felt like he was massaging your face and it felt damn good. "You spoil me, you know?" You hum, relaxing into his touch, eyes closing. He could have lulled you back to sleep like that if he wanted to.

Jake grunts in disagreement. "I don't spoil you nearly enough, babygirl." He states, completely believing it. He wouldn't tell you but he was already planning how to ask you to marry him, he didn't need to wait a year, or even until the baby was born, he knew you were the one for him and he just couldn't wait to spoil you even more once you were his wife, and spoil the hell out of the little hellions you guys would have together.

After a minute he grabs a soft wash cloth from the drawer by the sink and wets it only a little, gently wiping the cleanser off of your face for you. The action of the thing was just so freaking sweet, and so fucking Jake that you didn't have the heart to tell him that you weren't supposed to wipe away the cleanser like that. It doesn't take long before the shower has steamed up the whole bathroom and he's helping you off of the counter before leading you into the shower, letting you step under the water first after he helps you slip his navy tshirt over your head.

You hum as the water hits you, your body relaxing as you feel his thumbs kneading the skin at the base of your neck, the spot where you tend to hold all of your tension. You lean back into him and just let the water wash over you, enjoying the closeness with him.

The pleasantness of the morning only lasts for a couple of hours, not too long after Jake leaves for work (with a kiss to your cheek and a smack to your ass) the intense feeling of nausea and a pounding headache that had been plaguing you with it for the past two weeks came crawling back, you thought you had been rid of it finally when you woke up feeling perfect this morning, but of course it was too good to be true. You're hunched over the toilet for hours, the breakfast Jake had been kind enough to make you crawling its way out of your stomach.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" You ask your stomach after a nasty bout of vomiting, and as if in answer, your stomach lurches unpleasantly, though you manage not to spew everywhere this time.

You seem to be fine for the rest of the day, though your head pounds and you sit in darkness until about the time that Jake gets off work, knowing he was going to be home and excited to head straight to the hard deck with the crew for Penny's Halloween party. You had been excited too, had even planned out your costume with him but god you hadn't felt this bad before, this was the most intense day of morning sickness that you'd had the entire time you'd been pregnant. You were tempted to call it off, send him on his own, but you knew he wouldn't go. He would stay by your side and take care of you, and you didn't want that, not when he had been so excited to show you off tonight.

Despite your better judgement you start getting yourself ready around the time you know he's getting ready to leave base, you know your timing is right because you get a 'be home soon babygirl' text from him a few minutes into your endeavor. You smile at your phone for a second, wondering how you got so damn lucky to be able to be in love with your best fucking friend in the whole world..

You're in the middle of painting your small but ever present swollen baby belly with safe, brown paint, standing in the full body mirror as you do it. You're trying to make it look as much like a bun as possible, which isn't as easy as it seems when you can't physically detach your stomach and lay it flat on a table to look at and paint like you could literally anything else. You hear the front door open, and his voice carry's through it's usual greeting. "In the bedroom!" You holler back. You hear something thump onto the floor (his duffle, probably filled with his sweaty khaki uniform and underclothes) and his boots thud down the hallway.

"Hey, Babyg-" You turn to face him as soon as you peek him and his dark green flight suit in the doorway, showing off the bun you were working so hard on. Thankfully, focusing so hard on something else had pushed your nausea and headache to the back of your mind, the least of your worries as you locked eyes with your grinning boyfriend. "That looks so good Babygirl! Look at you and our little girl all dressed up for Halloween.." He steps into the room, his smile lighting his face as he brings his lips to yours, before he can even kiss you though your nose scrunches up at the smell of him, sweaty and smelling like airplane fuel and oil.

You know it's coming before your stomach even lurches and you shove him away from you so hard he lands on the bed, a shocked noise escaping him as you rush into the bathroom, sliding in front of the toilet just in the nick of time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hear Jake rush into the bathroom behind you, crouching down with you to rub your back. You manage to wave him away as you heave and he seems to get the hint, taking a step back.

"You smell." You groan when you're sure you've finished, trying to find the strength to stand up and rinse your mouth out. Jake makes an offended noise in the back of his throat, but you shoot him a glare that tells him you're serious and it seems to shut him up.

"Right," He says, clapping his hands together as you finally stand up. "i'll shower, you finish getting ready if you feel like you're able to go..if not, we'll stay home and watch 90 day Fiancé or something.." He wouldn't admit it to you, but your reality show addiction had become one of his new favorite hobbies and he would be more than happy to spend the night in bed with you binging. Who needed a Halloween party anyway? "How many times have you done that today?"

"I'll be fine to go, that's the first time that's happened all day." You lie, sidling up next to him to rinse out your mouth, trying desperately not to breathe through your nose so you don't repeat the emptying of your already empty stomach for the tenth time today. You meet his eyes in the mirror, he's looking at you like he doesn't believe you. "Really baby," You smile, turning around to face him. You look up at the handsome man before you, trying your hardest not to breathe in his scent. "I'll be okay, just take a shower and wash all the airplane gunk off of you before it happens again."

He gives you a long look, green eyes searching your face for any sign that he shouldn't let you go tonight and just make you stay home instead, he really couldn't have cared either way about the damn halloween party, now that he had you, you were the only thing that he ever cared to spend his time with. "Okay," He concedes, ruffling your hair with his ginormous hand. You roll your eyes at the action, but your body relaxes despite feeling horrible about the lie. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

You pushed through the next hour or so, finishing your costume while Jake showered and got himself ready, eagerly talking about how the two of you were going to kick Phoenix and Bob's asses in the costume contest that Penny was hosting tonight, and how he was so excited to show you and the belly off and as you checked yourself out in the mirror, you were once again reminded of just how lucky you were to have Jake to love you and the little miracle growing inside of you.

You pushed through Jake cooking himself a quick snack, you even made it through the drive to the bar like a champ, driving his big ass truck all the way there while he lay in the back seat because he refused to take his costume off until after the contest.

You had been at the bar for a couple of hours, mingling with Bob and Phoenix for the most part, who looked adorable in their Buzz and Woody costumes, when you took a turn for the worse. You and the rest of the squad had gotten to the bar quite early to help Penny finish setting up and as it started filling up with other people from base and some of the new TOP GUN students you and Jake had somehow gotten separated and after a while of talking with Phoenix about doing a shopping trip and lunch date on her next day off you started to look around for him.

Jake was at the pool table, high fiving Bradley as he sunk a ball into one of the pockets, very obviously wining the game of pool he had been roped into with the new recruits. You cant help the smile that lights your face when he catches your eye, sending you a signature Jake Seresin smirk and a wink of his eye. You giggle to yourself, your heart feeling full of nothing but love and happiness when it came to him.

"God, you guys are so in love its honestly sickening.." Natasha mutters, rolling her eyes with a playful smile on her face as she sips her whiskey on the rocks. You cackle in laughter, pushing her shoulder gently as you leave her side and make your way over to Jake, you'd had enough of being away from his side for one night.

A couple of people move in front of you as you're walking, and you have to stop and say hello to Maverick, who had arrived stylishly late to the party. "You're glowing!" He had said, giving you a kiss on your cheek. He was honestly in complete awe of you and the affect that you had on Hangman, he had done a complete 360 since you'd gotten together and he couldn't thank you enough for it because he wasn't sure how to handle it some days.

You chat with him for a few moments before making your way to Jake, except when he comes back into your view this time there's someone else with him. A tall bottle blonde in a risqué nurses costume that was honestly probably lingerie, she had fishnet stockings on and mile high platform stripper heels.

She was the kind of girl that had always caught his attention before you.

She was the kind of girl you had always been underlyingly jealous of.

And that jealously came rearing its ugly head. Fists clenched to your sides you walked over to your boyfriend with a purpose, not even catching their conversation before you wrapped your arms around his always so toned and tight bicep that was sticking out of the arm hole of the costume he had spent time making himself.

"Hey Babygirl," He says immediately, turning his head to plant a big fat kiss on your lips, you could practically feel his body relaxing at your touch and that seemed to cause you jealousy to ease, knowing that he was being held hostage in the conversation. "Jessa, this is my Babygirl.." The woman in front of you looked at you with narrowed eyes and then looked down at your costumes, her eyes roaming from your painted pregnant belly to his oven costume and and then back again, it seemed like it took a moment for all of the wheels to turn but they finally clicked into place.

"We dated for a while, not that long ago..just wanted to come over and say hello." She says. "I had heard you were settled down but i didn't think it could possibly be true.." Her eyes never leave his as she speaks, batting her eyelashes at him as if trying to entice him.

Jake raises his beer bottle to his lips, glancing down to you as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Well, I hate to break it to you but..its true.." You grind out, your queasy stomach returning as you catch a whiff of her strong perfume. "I'll be right back baby.."

You barely make it to the ladies room all the way across the bar before it spews out of you. You're hunched over the toilet for a good few minutes heaving and queasing and so focused on yourself that you don't hear bathroom door squeak open again, or the stripper heels smacking against the tiled floor that Penny thankfully kept in pristine cleanliness.

You don't notice the other presence in the bathroom until you've stood up and turned around, headed to wash your hands and try to wash the small bit of vomit off of your black shirt. You stop in your tracks immediately when you spot her, arms crossed over her outrageously exposed breasts as she stands with her hip popped, as if she were looking for a fight.

"I always knew he liked easier girls, but i never thought he liked actual whores." She states, eyeing your pregnant belly with clear disdain. "I'm not stupid, i can do basic math. He stopped calling me almost two months ago, way too soon for you to be thus far pregnant with his baby."

"..excuse me?" You utter, mouth watery again as you fought of what you hoped was just nerves and not another round of throwing up..you didn't think you could go 12 rounds today and still make it through the party.

The woman cackles damn near evilly. "The way Jake always spoke about his babygirl I thought she was this pure angel. Turns out she's a fucking whore." She shakes her head, eyeing once more. "You're not his type either, he really must fucking pity you if he's fucking you like this, the poor thing.."

You can't think of anything to say, you could barely hold your head up with how suddenly dizzy you were. As she turns to leave the bathroom, the door swinging open, the vomit spews out of you like lava spewed out of Pompeii and as you sink to the floor, trying to keep your own head up, too dizzy to see straight or use your voice or even think, you couldn't help but to remember the words that she had said..that he must have pittied you..that wasn't true..right?

Natasha noticed Jessa come out of the bathroom that she had seen you go into earlier, and maybe it was just because she was slightly paranoid but she felt like she needed to poke her head in and check on you, especially after she sauntered right back up to Jake and ran her hand down his bicep after you had very clearly made it known that she needed to back off.

"Keep an eye on Jessa," She says to Bob, catching her Wizzo's attention as she slipped off of her bar stool. "I'm gonna go check on Babygirl.." Everyone had taken to calling you by Jake's nickname for you, it was practically your God given name by this point.

"On it." Bob says, taking his Shirley Temple with him as he strides from the bar top to the pool table.

Natasha pushes people out of her way, the wings of her Buzz costume doing all of the work for her as she makes her way to the restrooms, pushing the door opening and entering sideways. She hears your moan before she sees you slumped in a pool of your own throw up, your skin paler than the flourescent lighting in the small bathroom and a small sheen of sweat on your forehead. "Holy sit.." She says, crumbling down next to you, taking your head in her hands. "Babygirl? You awake?" A slight moan is the only response. "Fuck...fuck.."

She doesn't leave your side, but she thanks God for having long legs because she's able to catch the door stopper just right with her foot and open it far enough for her voice to carry. "JAKE! BOB! SOMEBODY HELP!" You moan again, your head thumping to her chest. Her voice must be loud enough because there's a drawn out silence before a scattering of feet pounding against the hardwood flooring of the Hard Deck. "Call 911!"

Jake's heart drops into his stomach as soon as he sees you, his eyes widening. "What happened?" He doesn't bother to care about the emotional crack in his voice as he drops to his knees, Bob and Rooster right behind him in the door way. "Nat, what the fuck happened?"

"I don't know, she was like this when I came in - Jessa had just come out!" She says panicking because she had never once seen Jacob Seresin look so scared and vulnerable before. "She keeps moaning and she's sweaty..Jake what if it's the baby?"

He squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn't bare to think of it, he couldn't bare to think of how sad and broken you would be..he couldn't even begin to think of how to pick up those broken pieces if that were the case, so he didn't think about it. He focused on Bob's voice behind him, on the phone with the 911 operator.

"...17 weeks pregnant, semi conscious.." Bob spoke to the person on the other end, Jake had told them all this morning how far along you were, forcefully showing everyone the pregnancy tracking app on his phone screen. Bob had remembered because of how excited Jake had been.

Jake looked at you, your head in Natasha's lap and then glanced back at Bradley who's eyes were wide with fear, an exact mimic of his own facial expression he was sure. He remembered suddenly that Natasha had said that someone had been in here before she found you..Jessa.

He was on his feet before he had even finished having the thought, shoving past Bradley who had the wherewithal to dutifully follow him as he stalked down the hallway and into the main area of the bar.

"Jessa!" He thundered, the bar going silent. She wasn't hard to find, she was one of the few girls dressed like a hooker. "What the fuck did you do? Huh?" He asks, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Jake, back off man-" Bradley's hand is on his shoulder pulling him back. Jessa scoffs at both of them and rolls her eyes turning around.

"Not my fault the skanky trash can't handle the thing growing inside of her." She says to her group of friends, causing them to start cackling.

She was lucky that Nat hadn't heard her, and that he didn't go crawling back to the bathroom to send her out here to do what he knew she would have because just then flashing lights shined through the front windows of the bar. Paramedics had arrived.

"Oh now that's just fucking dramatic!" She groans to her friends as Jake walks away, causing him to turn back around to start yelling at her once more. Bradley spins him back towards the door though and he runs outside to rush them in.

When you come to you're scared out of your mind, the last thing you remember were the words Jessa had said echoing in your mouth. Your heart starts to race and you hear a monitor start to go off, there were things attached to your stomach and your arms and all of a sudden his hands were on your shoulder, weary eyes looking into yours.

"..jake? what happened?" You ask, your heart already starting to calm down and you realize that the monitor that was going off was attached to you.

"You were dehydrated, you passed out.." Jake says, pressing a kiss to your temple as one hand goes to rest on your stomach, right next to the fetal monitors. "Your OB says that it's from throwing up so much, says that you weren't getting in as much as you were getting out.." You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the pillow, kicking yourself for letting it get that bad. "Why didn't you tell me it was that bad babygirl? You scared me shitless..you scared all of us..Nat found you laying in your own vomit..she came with me, wouldn't even go home to change..she's off hounding your doctor for more information.."

You process his words, hating yourself for putting your friend in that situation, for ruining the halloween party. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. "Is the baby okay?" Your lip quivers and tears begin to stream down your face. "Jake im so sorry baby, I thought I could tough it out, I didn't want you to worry.."

Jake sighs, kissing your forehead as he wipes the tears from your eyes, letting you know that the baby was okay, and that you would be okay too. That he was going to take care of you always, and his words washed over you completely, emptying your head of whatever doubt Jessa had temporarily placed in it.

taglist:

@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891

#jake seresin fluff #top gun maverick #hangman #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun phoenix

[lcvesjj]

Hello honey,

I've for this enemies to lovers trope with Connor Rhodes in my head for a long time in my head, so I thought today I'm brave enough to send it to you. Reader is a new doctor at Med. Connor is in a bad for month now, cause his ex cheated on him. So he's not interested in getting to know the new young and beautiful doctor at med. On the contrary: he's letting his anger out on her, being mean, unfriendly and unfair to her. She moves to Chicago to start a new life, away from her abusive ex. Years of being in a bad relationship left her incredible insecure with new people, but she tries her best, being friendly and kind to build a new life, even trying to find new friends. Connor's behavior towards stings at first but soon starting to hurt her more than she wants to admit. Plus the stress and fear that her ex may find her stresses her even more. Imagine she's suffering from severe migraine attacks cause od stress and night terrors. One day getting to her breaking point when Connor once more letting his stress our on her leaving her flinching and let her spiraling her into a full blown panic attack at the break room. In her head she's not at Med but back with her ex.... Out of sheer terror she begs Connor not to hurt her.... Finally he realizes why she's so jumpy and shy. (just need some worried Connor now taking care of her and trying now over the next week's to gains her trust, maybe he helps her now during a migraine attack and so on, until she trusts him enough to him her past). I really love the enemies to lovers trope and the development of Connor being an absolute arrogant asshole to a caring protector and lovely human being.

Title : the new doctor - connor rhodes x fem!reader

Warnings : past abuse, panic attacks, angst, mentions of death of a patient, mentions of nightmares/night terrors, past abusive relationship, badly written enemies to lovers. If there is anything I might’ve missed, please don't hesitate to let me know and I will add it to the warnings.

A/n : This fic is dark and heavy so please be cautious while reading. Please remember that if you have experienced something similar there is always help available and people you can talk to. Stay safe and if anything in the warnings triggers you please don’t read this. I’m really sorry to anyone who has experienced something like this. Help is always available, please don’t be afraid to reach out to someone.

Moving to Chicago was a quick decision you had made in the middle of the night. After your ex boyfriend decided to go to the bar again and get wasted and when you tried to ask him to stop drinking and get a job, he punched you so hard to the point of a split eyebrow and a black eye. 

After patching up the split eyebrow and making sure you didn’t need any stitches, you opened your laptop and started looking for jobs in different cities. As far away from here as possible. You knew it wouldn't be a good idea to stay with him and to stay in this relationship.

So after many years of enduring his abuse you had had enough, you tried to leave so many times, but somehow your now ex-boyfriend managed to gaslight you into staying by promising he would change. But he never did change. Luckily you managed to save up some money just in case you’d need it, since you had a gut feeling that you would need it.

Seeing a job offer in the Gaffney Medical Center in Chicago, you felt like this was your chance to leave, without even thinking twice you sent an email with your application. And in the meantime you decided to pack your things and stay at a hotel for some time. It was for the best.

A few days later you got a response to your application asking for you to come in person for an interview. Seeing that email and your laptop you grinned widely.

This was it! You could start a new life away from your ex and the small town you lived in. This was your chance to finally leave and get away.

Before you knew it, you were in the plane landing at Chicago’s airport. Stepping out of the plane into Chicago’s winter air, you smiled to yourself.

This was it, you could finally start a new life and live how you always wanted to live. 

But luck wasn’t really on your side, it's what you quickly realised after getting the job at Gaffney Medical Center. The patients and nurses were very kind and helpful. The doctors too, except for one doctor, his name was doctor Connor Rhodes.

He was cold and he always seemed to be angry at you for no reason. One of the nurses whose name was Maggie, explained that Connor recently got cheated on by his ex-girlfriend and from then on he has been acting rude and cold to everyone. But especially you- you didn’t know why he would act like that, since you only met him 3 weeks ago.

You tried your hardest to be friendly and nice to him, but that just seemed to anger him even more, he just started to be more and more unfair to you while brushing off all of your attempts of trying to be his friend.

Soon your migraine attacks came back from all the stress of work, the fear of your ex returning and Connor’s behaviour. Every time you had to be next to Connor, your whole body would tense up.

After escaping from your ex boyfriend, dealing with Connor would stress you out to the point of panic attacks and nightmares. Since he would sometimes remind you of your ex when he’d be so cruel and unfair to you. You had no idea what you could’ve done wrong to deserve this type of treatment. 

You tried your hardest to be nice to him, but after a while you just gave up completely. You just didn’t see the point in trying to be nice to someone who would just brush off all of your attempts and just continue to act like that.

One day it all just came crashing down after a patient coded and you tried your hardest to revive him but it was no use. Connor was in the room with you, trying to help. But after one of the nurses told you that it’s no use, you stopped and announced the time of death. 

Taking off your gloves and walking into the breakroom to just calm down and breathe, Connor stormed after you and started yelling. When you tried to walk away, he grabbed your upper forearm and turned you to face him.

You could feel the panic starting to rise in your chest, Connor then started shouting at you while telling you how much of a dumb mistake you made and he was blaming you for what went wrong, even if it wasn’t your fault. 

When he raised his hands above his head in anger and frustration, you instinctively raised your hands above your face and head in an effort to protect yourself, since you thought Connor was going to hurt you. You could feel your body tremble and the tears slowly pour down your cheeks in fear and pure terror.

Seeing your body tremble and the way your hands were shielding your face and head as if you were waiting for an incoming hit, Connor’s face turned pale white. That’s when his heart broke into tiny pieces, it’s when he realised why you were always so tense around him. Someone had hurt and traumatised you to the point of this being your reaction whenever someone raised their voice or made any sudden movements next to your face or head.

“Please don’t hurt me” You managed to choke out through your tears, feeling the panic grow in your chest even more than before. The amount of terror and fear in your voice made Connor’s heart break even more. 

Connor quickly took a small step back while slowly putting his hands down to not spook you even more by keeping them in the air. It was obvious you were having flashbacks and that his actions had sent you into a massive panic attack.

“Hey hey Y/n, I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. You're safe here, it’s okay.” Connor says softly while trying to get you to calm down. But it didn’t do much since you just kept on begging him not to hurt you- in your mind you were still in the small town you lived in with your ex.

After a while you just seemed to finally realise that you aren’t in that small town anymore. You were safe. You were in Chicago, which was far away from the small town you used to live in. Slowly letting your hands down you let out a sob seeing Connor. He slowly walked up to you and gently embraced you, letting you sob onto his chest.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m so so sorry- I should’ve- I should’ve known…I'm so sorry.” Connor just repeated over and over again while holding you tightly.

Soon you managed to calm down, yet you still kept your face buried into Connor’s chest. You tried to take a few deep breaths to calm down. Seeing you in such a state Connor felt heartbroken, he shouldn't have let his emotions and frustrations out on you. You didn’t deserve that.

After talking to Maggie it was agreed that you could go home, since you weren't in the right headspace to be able to work properly. Connor offered to drive you home, but you refused while mumbling the excuse that you needed some fresh air. 

Grabbing your things from your locker quickly you walked out of the Medical Center. You didn’t notice it but Connor kept on glancing at you while you walked away. He looked heartbroken, sad and guilty.

When Connor’s shift ended all he could think about was you. He felt guilty for acting in a way that made you relive those traumatic memories. Even if he didn’t know what might’ve happened to you in the past, he knew one thing- you did not deserve what happened to you.

He just couldn’t take it anymore, Connor knew he had to apologise to you and somehow make it up to you for acting like such a jerk to you. A few days later when you came into work Connor was waiting for you by the front desk. He looked sad and apologetic. He did apologise and he tried his hardest to start making it up to you for his past behaviour.

Over the next few weeks Connor was different. He was nicer and more caring, it’s as if someone had flipped a switch inside of him. Soon you trusted him enough to tell him about your past and why you moved to Chicago. And after telling him all of that, he hugged you tightly to comfort you. 

He soon started coming over to your apartment from time to time to just check in on you and see how you were doing. When one day when you didn’t show up to work Connor decided to check up on you, since you weren’t the type of person who would just not come into work without saying anything before. 

Driving to your apartment he felt nervous and anxious, he tried calling and texting but when you didn’t reply he wanted to come and check up on you. Just to make sure that everything was okay.

After you didn’t answer the door or any of his calls or texts. Connor got very worried for you. What if something bad happened and you needed help? Without thinking twice he looked under your doormat for the extra key that you had told him about after he came over for the first time.

Quietly unlocking the door he walked inside and started calling out your name. Connor walked around your small apartment searching for you. After a while he decided to check your bedroom. Slowly walking towards the bedroom he knocked on the door. 

Hearing him knock on the door to your bedroom, you sat up slightly confused. But as soon as you sat up you grabbed your head from the pain. You were having one of those bad migraines that would happen to you from time to time due to the stress.

“Connor? Is it you?” You mumbled half asleep while trying to not cry from the pain. “Yes it's me Y/n, can I come in? I just wanted to check up on you.” Connor replied while standing in front of the door leading to your bedroom.

You just managed to mumble a soft “yes” before laying back down still holding your head in your hands, trying to ease the migraine a little. Connor slowly walked inside and seeing how dark your room is and how the blind were shut he knew what this meant. You were having a migraine- after getting to know you better Connor found out that you sometimes get bad migraine attacks.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?” Connor said quietly while walking up to your bed and crouching down by your side.

“Like crap and my head hurts.” You whispered back while finally looking over at him. You were pale and had dark bags under your eyes and you looked ill.

“Migraine?” Connor just asked while reaching over slowly to push the hair out of your forehead. He was trying his best to be gentle and calm around you after hearing what happened with you ex, Connor didn’t want to send you into another panic attack or worse because of his actions. You just nodded in response to his question, since you barely had the energy to speak.

“Do you want me to get you some medicine for the pain?” He asked while looking over at you with a concerned expression on his face. 

“Yes please.” You said softly while glancing up at him.

“Okay I'll be back in a minute. I'll also make you some tea.” Connor said, smiling softly and he kissed your forehead before getting up and quietly heading towards the bathroom where you kept your medicine.

After you took the medicine, your migraine seemed to ease a little. Connor stayed by your side the whole time refusing to leave you in such a vulnerable state. Smiling at him softly you said “You know that you don't have to do this right?”

He just responded saying “I know. But I want to. It's the least I can do.” With a small smile while brushing the hair out of your forehead again.

“Thank you.” You whispered while smiling at him tiredly. Connor just nodded in response. “Try and get some sleep okay? I'll stay here if you want me too.” He replied with a smile. “I’m not about to leave you here.” 

Nodding you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. “Thank you Connor.” Was the last thing you could say before you fell into a deep sleep. And for the first time in ages you didn't have a nightmare and you slept well knowing that Connor was by your side.

#connor rhodes #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #one chicago #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #chicago med #chicago med x reader #chicago med imagine

[hotpinkstars]

I once started playing Star Honkai and now, remembering the initial moment of the game, I can propose this idea

What if the Reader was a child or teenager who considered Kafka, the Blade, and the Silver Wolf to be family?

The Reader's real family might not be the nicest ones, so they might have run away from them at some point and bumped into these guys. Or maybe their real family is fine, they just happened to become friends with these characters and started to see them as more family figures

Just an idea based on thoughts about Kafka's mother, who I didn't want to let go of when she said goodbye to us at the beginning of the game. I don’t know, it just really got to me so emotionally. That yes, I could be just a vessel with a weapon for you, not a real person, but you are the first person I see and that makes you my parent, right? You shouldn't leave me

Perhaps someday I myself will write something in more detail about these thoughts. In the meantime, a small request for family relationships or communication between the Reader and the characters, yeah

(if you don't write for this game or these characters, that's fine)

🍞 anon

FOUND FAMILY - blade, kafka, silverwolf x reader (platonic)

- you meet these three, and you instantly click!!! they enjoy your presence alot, and start treating you like family...

- HI MY FAVORITE (only, but still favorite) ANON!!!!!! i'm sorry this is so late but i love this request huhuhuhu 😛 so i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this!!!!!

- might be ooc for them.... (it's 10 at night and i'm sleepy today was so busy ME AND MY FAMILY ADOPTED A CAT TODAY SHES SO CUTE WHO WANTS A PHOTO ahem anyways...) reader doesn't have a good homelife, wc 1.6k

Everything started when you ran from home.

You’ve always resented your homelife; your parents were always yelling and/or fighting, your siblings have all moved out to fulfill their dreams and career paths, and you didn’t go to school very often, leaving you with few friends. 

To say you lived a lonely life was an understatement. 

You were running through the rain, not giving a piece of mind to where you were going and where you may end up. You looked through the windows of other houses as you were walking down the sidewalks of the xianzhou loufu, seeing families coming together, spending time together, etc. You didn’t necessarily feel like thinking about your situation right now, so you kept going, focused on the path in front of you.

As soon as you got into the Exalting Sanctum, you sat down and took a break. It felt nice to get off your feet, taking the time to scroll on your phone. 

As you were about to get up to buy yourself a cup of tea, you heard someone's voice behind you.

“Psst, you, child with the h/c hair,” a woman had said, looking straight at you when you turned around to see who she was talking to. “Come here.”

You do as you say, thinking about what could happen the whole time. She didn’t look like she was from around here, and she didn’t sound like she spoke the native language.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” you ask, curiosity lacing your voice. She chuckled in response to your question.

“Save the questions for later. I have one for you though,” she took a seat at your table, motioning for you to sit back down. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you’ve left home. You seem troubled.”

You sigh, leaning back in your chair, harshly setting your phone on the table in front of you. “It’s a long story that I’d prefer not to talk about right now.”

She nodded, seeming to understand, before she got up and took your hand. 

“Do you need a place to stay? If so, I am willing to provide one.”

Your eyes slightly widened at her offer, and you hesitantly nodded. 

“By the way, what's your name?” she asked, starting to walk, giving you the hint to start following her. “You can just call me Kafka for now.”

“Call me… y/n,” you grinned, and she grinned back at you. You two stood shoulder to shoulder, despite the slight height difference. She seemed comfortable to you.

“Well, hello there, y/n, it’s nice to properly meet you,” she extended her arm, silently telling you to shake her hand. You do, and she pulls away rather quickly before picking up her pace. “I’m going to take you to meet a few other people, if you don’t mind.”

You stayed silent, and followed her to the destination she had in mind.

You don’t know what you expected, but it sure wasn’t what was presented in front of you.

You must have been slow, you thought, to not know Kafka was an enemy, a stellaron hunter, and she’s brought you back to the headquarters. You didn’t know if you wanted to run and shout for help or continue following her, but your feet kept stepping in the direction she was going.

“Your face makes it look like you know where we are,” she stops at last, turning around to face you. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You nod slowly, trying to force a small grin. She laughed at your efforts, continuing her path down a long hallway with one hell of a staircase. The first office you popped into was a gray haired womans, wearing a really intricate- maybe cyberpunk outfit with a pair of blue and purple sunglasses balancing on the top of her head. 

You step inside to see her feet resting on the table, a game controller in hand. Kafka knocks twice before entering, taking the controller from the woman before setting it down on the bookshelf. 

“Kafka, who have you brought now?” she blew a gum bubble, rolling her eyes slightly. 

“This is y/n. They’ve run from home, and I feel generous today, so I’m letting them stay temporarily,” she took a seat on the leather sofa on the other side of the room, taking some warm water from the pot in front of her, and plopping a teabag into the mug. “Would you two like any?” You shook your head, and the woman just looked at Kafka. 

“So, what's your name?” you ask, and the woman goes a little wide-eyed at your question. She settles before answering.

“Silverwolf. I am Silverwolf.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled slightly, and she admired your boldness. Talking so casually in front of a stellaron hunter? Do you even know who she is? Yes, yes you do, and you felt incredibly intimidated. 

Kafka soon led you out of the room, taking you to meet one other person, who she claims isn’t the greatest communicator and will likely not speak very much. She told you not to take it to heart, and he might warm up after a few weeks. 

“Am I even going to be here for a few weeks?” you tilt your head, and she chuckles once more. 

“I don’t know, it’s up to you.”

She stepped right into the other person's office- this person looked a lot different from the other one you just met. Instead of seeing colors and hearing clicking noises, the room was dead silent with a coat of dark paint on the walls. Everything seemed so bland in this room, and a man sat in the grand leather chair behind the desk in the middle of the room, completely ignoring your entrance. He looks up at Kafka, his eyes saying it all.

“This is y/n. I found them outside in the Exalting Sanctum and I decided to bring them back. They ran away from home.”

He nodded. 

“Awh, is someone shy?” Kafka lightly teased the man, making him get out of his seat and come over to where the both of you were standing. “Get used to their presence, because I don’t know how long they’re staying. Oh, y/n, this man's name is Blade.”

“Hello,” you say carefully, not wanting to pinch a nerve. This man looked capable of aggression, and he most certainly was.

He nodded back at you, and that was the last communication you’ve had with him that night.

The days seemed to continue that way. You’d occasionally stay with them, but you’d go back home when they were on missions. They’d explain how dangerous they could be, and Silverwolf would provide you with stories from her travels.

“And you’ll never guess what. The Trailblazer had to fight Kafka, and they won! I won’t let her live this one down…”

“Look, I found this in Penacony. It’s a really cool place, I think you’d like it.”

She’d sometimes bring you back little souvenirs. You’d always accept them with so much gratitude, and, depending on how important they are to your or how expensive they were, they’d either stay at your home or your room in the headquarters.

Though, to say it took a long, long time for them to warm up to you in such a way is an understatement. We’re talking around 6 months, or whatever amount of time that adds up to in their universe.

But once they did, they seemed to really enjoy your company. They treated you like they were your biological parents, they’d always have so much adoration and care in their eyes when they’d look at you, and they loved to spoil you.

Considering they’re stellaron hunters, they probably make a good sum of money. Silverwolf has tried to make you take on her interest in video games, so you two could play together and have something in common, and it’s kind of working! She starts you off with a cheaper console, but she ends up upgrading yours when you show more liking and interest into the games she also likes.

Kafka likes to just have little gossip sessions with you!! Or at least I feel like she would. Oh god she so would.

She’d get so into it, especially if you were a girl. Boy drama? She wants to hear every single thing about it! But if you’re a boy and you have girl drama, she wants to hear too! But she’ll try to give more advice on how to get the girl you want (and it almost always works).

And with friendship drama, she’ll always be the one to step in if necessary. She’s not gonna be one of those people who just step into their kids drama (those people absolutely suck) but she’ll get in if she needs to. She wants to hear all about it though.

Blade is a little bit different with his ways of showing his appreciation and adoration towards you. Usually, you understand that even being in his presence is enough, and him allowing you to talk his ear off is a pretty big feat in itself.

He likes to hear you talk, and especially likes to have deep conversations, me thinks. He’s the type of person to not as easily be engaged in small talk, so very deep, detailed conversations pull his attention right away.

Overall, the three of them care for you like you’re their blood. And at this point, they’re more like parents than yours are, so you can talk about them as if they really were your blood without any hesitations. At the end of the day, you’re lucky to have such people surrounding you.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #silver wolf #silver wolf x reader #kafka #kafka x reader #blade #blade x reader #platonic

[earthnashes]

CREDITS:

Sylph264 (Birds and the Boofs artwork):

https://linktr.ee/sylph264

Dani-Kitsune (Artist Showcase): 

https://www.instagram.com/danikitsune/

Pokelobo (Artist Showcase):

https://www.instagram.com/pokelobo9/

A shoutout to Obieros for being selected as community member of the month! Thank you so much for being a part of this community, and congratulations!

--

You may support my art and join my community via Patreon!

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

Well well well. It's been a long time, huh? :)

Heyoooo everyone I have returned from the dead! As of February my hiatus is officially over, though I will still be slow to allow myself to ease back into having an active online presence to make sure I don't burn out again. But in the meantime; my first newsletter! One of the few things I've been cooking up over the last couple of months. owo

Figured it'd be a great first post on most of my social media. I've been up to quite a bit; I may do a much more in depth text post about it later, but until then I hope ya'll enjoy this first entry! More from me to come soon! :>

#newsletter #my art #my stuff #commissions #commission

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

🔪🔪🔪No spoons left 👩‍🦼🔪🔪🔪

So. On 29 December 2022, the back of my motorized wheelchair broke completely (as in completely collapsed, flat out behind me, doubling the turning radius of my chair, and giving me zero back support). After business hours, of course. And so I couldn't call for a repair person to come out and look at it until the morning, and of course they were all backed up until after the New Year.

When the technician did come out (early January 2023), he found the frame was completely bent out of shape (I wonder if it was bent out of shape when it first broke, or if it got that way after roughly a week of bumping it into things when it was flat out, because my chair no longer fit around the corners in my house). And the whole part would need to be replaced. In the meantime, the guy rigged up some cables to hold the back up, and basically tie it into place. It's no longer adjustable, of course, but at least it gives me some support, now (I paid a whole lot of extra money for this chair for its adjustable features, like back angle, foot+leg rests, and seat tilt-in-space)

It would be expensive, but of course I gave my consent for them to order a new one.

Months go by, with no news. Finally, on 10 May 2023, I'm told the 20% deductible I have to pay, before they even put in the order. And I pay it, in installments of one half (minimum down payment), one quarter, and last quarter.

And then: Nothing. Absolute Radio Silence.

Last week, I notice that my battery is no longer holding a charge, so I schedule a technician to come out and replace it (Wheelchair batteries have a lifespan of ~ three years, and I bought the battery in March 2021, when I bought this @!#$-ing chair). While I'm making the appointment, I mention: "Hey, it's been a year since the back on this chair broke, any news on the replacement part?" The receptionist says she doesn't know, but she'll ask the guys in the repair department, and call me back.

She doesn't call back.

Today, 1 February 2024, 13 months later, after the repair guy replaced the battery, and while he was replacing screws on one of my armrests, so I don't have to hold it in place with duct tape, any more, he gave me the news:

The company that makes this chair has completely discontinued the model, and are also no longer making replacement parts.

The chance of me getting the back on my wheelchair fixed is zero.

(I think I'd have to pay more for a lawyer to get a refund on that deductible I've already paid than the price of that deductible).

Oh, and also: this chair is also a swapped out model, and not the one I actually ordered, because the company discontinued that model, too. And I didn't find out until they were driving this one into my living room.

That was 3 years ago. Medicare will only pay for a new chair ever 5 years, or longer. So I'm stuck with this chair until at least the end of 2025 (I started placing my order for a new chair -- the one I have now, in September or October 2020)

Oh, and you know what else the repair guy told me? Wheelchair companies even specially design (and Patent) every single screw and bolt that goes into their chairs, so you can't fix the chairs yourself.

🤬Capitalism!!!

#Wheelchair user #Disablism #Disability World #emoji #large text #bold text