#so if nothin else all this is on the right track!

[roosterr]

Heyyy! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn.. BUT if you areee, can I just please get a john price with the prompt “why are you avoiding me?” (Bc I’m a slut for angst) with a large fry on the side? IF NOT I TOTALLY COOL

outside it starts to pour

note: two posts in one month? who am i? i hope this is angsty enough lol, i re-wrote it 3 times bc i wasnt happy with it, its a love hate relationship 🥲 but anyway pls enjoy anon!!!

pairing: john price x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed

warnings: fwb, implied smut but no actual smut, angst, miscommunication (i cant help myself), hurt/no comfort, no happy ending

ao3

"why're you avoidin' me?"

the question echoes in your ears, drowning out the war drum of your heartbeat despite the heavy silence that settles between you.

john has a hand around your arm, gentle and barely there but still anchoring you in place like a vice with just his light touch. the back of your mind screams for you to rip yourself free, get as far away from the familiar timbre of his voice and the near-stifling comfort of his smoky scent as you can before he can get you in his web again. but just like always, he's got you right where he wants you.

how many times have you been pulled behind the door he was halfway out of? and how many times have you been ushered back out again with your hair and heart a mess, just to pretend like nothing happened? always one foot in your little secret and one in his reputation, never fully with you; that's how the captain operated, and you feel like a fool for ever believing otherwise.

a squeeze to your arm brings you back to the present, suddenly all too aware of his fingers against your skin and his eyes boring into your own with an intensity that has your heart fluttering – against your mind's better judgement.

"i'm not." your response is a mutter, your gaze dropping from his to the hardwood ahead of you. it's unconvincing, even to you, but he had no right to question you like this.

"you are." he shoots back, gruffly and without a second of hesitation. from the corner of your vision you see his brow furrow, casting shadow over those eyes that always captivate you so mercilessly.

a sigh escapes his chest at your lack of response, his eyes darting from one end of the hallway to the other before giving your arm a miniscule tug, nodding his head back towards his office.

that's how it always starts. the thought makes your heart clenches painfully. "stop. i don't want to–"

"no." he interrupts firmly, with a shake of his head so resolute it almost has you believing that was never his intention to begin with. your eyes gravitate towards his again, and there's a spark of something, under the surface, when his thumb strokes your skin, dipping just below the hem of your sleeve. "talk to me, what's wrong?"

the urge to give in is tempting, to fall into his arms like you always do, just how he wants, how he expects you to. this time, however, you're determined to avoid his trap.

"it's nothing," you avert your gaze again, sighing in the same moment you take his wrist and slowly pull his touch from your arm, "just leave it."

john tuts. "it's not nothin', though, is it?" he asks, sidestepping into your line of sight again and ignoring the pointed look you give him. "talk to me."

if he cared for you the same way you do for him, his persistence would be endearing, but you know better. you're a good soldier who just so happens to be a good fuck too; that's all you are to him, and that's all you'll ever be.

"i told you. drop it." you shake your head, face creasing into a frown as you turn on your heel. if you have to endure any more of his deceiving sympathy, you know you'll only end up caving to his desires. you're not that strong, and that's why you need to keep as much distance as possible between you.

"you're somewhere else, lieutenant." he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks before you can get too far. you don't bother to turn around, but he continues anyway. "if you can't get your head back in the game, i can't risk havin' you out in the field."

your indignant laugh bounces off the walls.

"it's just that easy for you, isn't it?" there's a lump in your throat as you force the last two words over it, one you hope neither of you will acknowledge.

"and what's that supposed to mean?" he scoffs, the sound of his boots taking a few damning steps closer to where you stand, still with your back to him.

"i don't know why i'm offended, you always do this." you mutter, bringing your hand up to smooth over the crease of your brow, the tremble there barely noticeable but telling of your fragile state.

he doesn't respond this time, waiting for you to elaborate with what you're sure is a glare directed at the back of your head.

"you find something to take, and take, and take from," you spin around to face him again, which proves to be a mistake because the second you meet his concerned eyes, you can feel the sting of tears in your own. "and as soon as it's not useful to you anymore, you chuck it away like yesterday's leftovers."

the silence that follows your outburst is so tense it weighs you down. you can't will yourself to move, to tear your gaze away from him even when your vision blurs. it takes a moment for you to realise just how ragged your breathing has become, feeling the hard rise and fall of your chest over your racing heart as you come down from your anger.

"that… that's not what this is." john utters, his face morphing into something you coin as pity, and it makes your heart squeeze all over again.

"don't. i told you to fucking leave it…" your voice is weaker than before, and you curse yourself for showing this amount of weakness in front of him, because now you know he knows that it was never just sex to you. he never meant that little to you.

by some miracle you manage to blink away the tears before they can fall and embarrass you further. you wait for him to say something, in a painful sense of awkwardness that's never been there before, but all he does is stare at you.

"i can't do this anymore." you whisper, the words muffled through the blood rushing in your ears. you fix him with another scathing look before turning to leave for the second time tonight.

"wait." he calls your name as you walk away, quickly moving to catch up with you, but you have no desire to listen to him, not anymore. he gives you no time to react when he rushes to stand in your path, grasping both your shoulders to stop you when you try to sidestep him. "for fucks sake, just hold on."

there's a conflicted look in his gaze that seems to pull his expression down with it. if you had anything left to give you might've felt bad for being the cause, but it's been months of this game of cat and mouse, and you're drained.

"it was a mutual arrangement," he urges, his eyes search yours, something you can't discern muddying the deep blue as they dart across your face.

you give a watery scoff, rolling your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache his touch brings you. "there was no arrangement. you're not an idiot, john, you knew how i felt about you."

"what?" he has the audacity to sound confused, and you have to resist the urge to scoff again. "how you felt about me? what're you saying?"

"i think it's pretty obvious by now." you mutter, folding your arms over you chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. he hasn't taken his eyes off you once, your skin prickling under his intense stare. "i'm an idiot for thinking this would go any other way."

there's another heavy pause, john opens his mouth and closes it again like he was fighting with himself on what to say. the way your throat has constricted makes it hard to breath without sobbing, your breath coming out laboured and uneven.

"do you regret it?" he finally asks, his fingertips pressing into your flesh almost imperceptibly, leaving your skin tingling even though your shirt.

it was self-destruction, giving in to him every time even though it felt like a thorn in your heart. to allow yourself to live in the fantasy that he loved you while you were in his arms, just to have that warm feeling shattered when he told you to get dressed.

"yes."

you regret falling for someone who would never love you back.

"it's over. let me go, captain." you whisper, a plea for him to release you from whatever spell he's got you under, even if you don't really mean it.

his hands drop from your shoulders, letting one curl into a fist at his side and bringing the other up to scratch his beard in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. you know it's for the better, but the knowledge couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you brush past him, feeling his gaze burning into you as you lean away to avoid touching him.

he doesn't stop you when you walk away this time.

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #john price #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #roosterr writes

[ohbo-ohno]

hear me out: ghoap x reader (noncon) in an abandoned factory. Reader only has an unreasonably short amount of time to escape before they get to keep her and do whatever they want to her

1k game here - no more please! im trying to get through these but they're slow going because im incapable of writing anything less than a thousand words apparently

1.8k of ghoap (mostly ghost) x reader chasing very scared reader through a factory :/ this is very similar to everything else i've ever written so nothing new here folks. (aka noncon!!!) btw this one is just pwp, nothin else much here to see

Your breaths heave out of you in pants, almost violent in their intensity. You feel like you can hardly breathe, but it doesn't matter. all that matters is running, getting away from the monsters chasing you.

You can hear them. Or, one of them at least. Johnny - the Scottish one, the one you'd been stupid enough to follow out of the bar in the first place. His partner - either Ghost or Simon, Johnny had called him both - your sure is silent as he moves. He'd blended into the shadows for so long when you first woke up, and you know he's doing it again.

You can't think about them. If you think about them for too long you'll spiral, and that is the last thing you need.

No, you have to run.

The old factory is a creepy place, cobwebs and dust covering everything, random creaking noises from machines, lights flickering on and off with no rhyme or reason. It takes all of your willpower not to scream when you feel a roach crawl across the toe of your heels.

The shoes are something you're still not sure if you made the right choice on - you can't walk silently in them, but you have absolutely no idea what you could possibly step on. The last thing you need is to somehow give yourself tetanus while running from your possible killers.

Still, the way you click-clack along the concrete floors makes you wince with every step.

"Where are you, bonnie?" Johnny echoes nearby. You've been trying to track him by listening to how many times his voice echoes, and he sounds very close now.

You duck into the first room you see, shoving yourself along a dark wall and fumbling around in the pitch black. The room must be windowless because there isn't even a hint of light, nothing that lets you see even vague shapes in the room.

Still, it's silent. You hear loud footsteps approach the door, and breathe out a large sigh of relief when they keep walking. Johnny shouts something indiscernible, and his voice fades into the distance.

You go limp against what you're sure is a wall, letting yourself breathe as heavily as you want now that you're sure there's no chance of being found.

The adrenaline makes your hands shake. Your lungs ache from the strain you've put them under, and you feel a little lightheaded from fear. But you try to shove all of that away - all that matters is that you stay away from your pursuers until morning.

The door opens.

Any peace you'd managed to find disappears in the blink of an eye, and you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your whimper. The door opens inwards, and whoever steps in can't see from around it. You're safe until he lets it fall closed behind him, plunging the room into darkness.

It's got to be Ghost. Even without knowing them all that well, you know Johnny wouldn't be able to resist taunting you. You hadn't seen much more than a silhouette, but you're sure this is Simon.

You can't try and move. Your shoes are too loud, and trying to kick them off would be just as loud as walking. Your only option is to stand still and pray he doesn't find you.

He's silent as he moves. You can't hear breathing, or footsteps, or even if he brushes over something. The room is as quiet as it was before he found it. But you can't relax. Your legs are tensed in preparation to run, and your heart beats so loudly you're sure he could hear it if he came close enough.

But he doesn't. The room is silent, and he doesn't find you.

There's a point where you're nearly convinced that he never came into the room at all. Is it possible that you hallucinated him? That your exhausted and terrified brain conjured up a threat that isn't real?

It takes a long, long time, but eventually you start to relax against the wall. It must've been nearly ten minutes of dead silence now, surely you've just started seeing things. No man could stand that still, stay so quiet, for so long.

You let your arm fall from your face, puffing breaths into the slightly musty air. Another few minutes, and you'll move again.

"Boo," a voice whispers in your ear, from directly next to you.

You scream, leaping away from the sudden wall of heat at your side. It doesn't let you, a hand snapping out and grabbing you by your upper arm before you can fall. You scream again as he pulls you closer, don't stop screaming as he turns you around and pins you by the chest to the wall.

He's all man and heat as he presses himself to your back, lips hovering by your ear, breaths ghosting over the sensitive shell.

"Got you," he whispers, nipping at your ear. "Stop your wailin', you're alright."

You do not, in fact, stop wailing. It feels impossible to swallow the sobs spilling from your throat, like if you close your mouth they'll choke you. So you stand pinned to the wall, tears already spilling down your cheeks as you blubber mindlessly.

Ghost laughs over your shoulder. "Little crybaby, aren't ya? That's alright, doll, I don't mind a few tears."

You can feel him undoing his belt behind you, and that only makes you more panicked. You throw yourself back against him, desperate to get him off, but you're nowhere near strong enough to do anything.

Ghost grunts over your shoulder, using one hand to force you flush with the wall again.

"Stay," he grunts, naked hips brushing against your ass as he flips your skirt up. "Unless you want me to get a little rougher? That what you want, love? Want me to throw you down and fuck you until you bleed?"

You keen loudly, shaking your head as best you can with your face forced into the wall. "No, no, nonono, please, please, you can't- oh God, please don't-"

He laughs lowly, rocking his hard cock between your thighs. "Just Ghost will do, love. Now, let's stretch you out a bit, hm? No need for blood when you're good for me."

You're bone dry between your thighs, no room for anything but fear in your head. Simon doesn't seem to mind, slowly stroking over your clit until your body betrays you.

"There we go," he murmurs as you first start to leak onto his fingers. "Little more for me, love, c'mon."

You've got no choice but to obey. It's like Ghost has a manual on how to make you feel best, stroking over all the parts that make your cunt drool, using just enough pleasure to keep things feeling horribly good.

You sob against the wall, pressing your forehead so hard into the rough surface that it hurts. All you can do is stand still and take what he gives you, forced to bear witness to your own destruction.

He's silent as he slips one finger, than another, inside of you. You whine against the intrusion, the slight sting a horrible pleasure.

"Hush, love," he soothes, rutting himself against your leg. "You're almost ready, won't be much longer now."

That only makes you more distressed, and you sob into the wall.

He's true to his word and doesn't spend much longer fingering you, his own intent seeming to be to spread you out enough to take him. You hope the fact that he only used two fingers means he isn't too large, but the size of each finger tells you otherwise.

You can't help but cry out when you feel his warm head rest against your entrance. Your hands fist against the wall as you fight back every urge to lash out, knowing that'll only make everything worse.

Ghost laughs over your shoulder, like he knows exactly what you're thinking.

"Still for me now, good girl. Won't make you do any of the work, just gotta stand there and take it for me." He speaks as he pushes slowly into you, raising his voice enough to be heard over your sounds of pain and pleasure.

He's thick, so much thicker than the two fingers he stretched you with, and there's a moment where you think he really has made you bleed. The pain isn't sharp enough for that though, just a never ending push into the clutch of your body.

"There you go," he moans when his hips meet the meat of your ass, as deep inside of you as he can get at this angle. "You feel like heaven, doll, never felt a cunt this tight, fuck."

"Pl-please," you splutter, breath shaky. "Please don't, it hurts..."

"Oh yeah? It hurts?" He coos, hands stroking faux-comfortingly over your hip. "Poor thing, 'm just too big for your little hole, huh? You'll just have to relax, then, I'll make you feel good once I'm finished."

A little heartbroken noise slips from your throat, but you do your best to listen. There isn't much else to do but bear whatever he chooses to give, so you try to relax your muscles, letting the wall take your weight.

"Good girl, good girl for me," he breaths, grinding his hips deep into you.

You feel him inhale deeply against you and try to mimic the pace of his breathing, bracing yourself as he pulls out.

Mercifully, he's silent as he fucks you. He seems to be lost in your body, shoving his face into your neck and running his teeth over the thin skin over your pulse.

It feels almost dream-like, to be taken like this. You can't move with how closely he has you crowded, and the room remains the absolute pitch black - you can't even see the outline of Simon's form over your shoulder. It's like what's happening is stuck in only this room, and you tell yourself that when it's over, when you leave, you'll be able to pretend this never happened.

That illusion is ruined when the door opens, flooding the room with light.

You get another look at Ghost as he pulls his head away from your neck to look over - he's sweat-slicked and flushed, eyes narrowed as he looks to see the intruder.

"Aw, you started without me?" Johnny whines, leaving the door wide-open as he trots over to where you're pinned.

Ghost huffs a laugh over your shoulder, continuing to fuck you at his same pace, leaving you wracked with pleasure. "First come, first serve, Johnny - shoulda been faster if you wanted to play with her first."

Through teary eyes you can see that Johnny doesn't look all that upset as he leans on the wall next to you. He plants a hand in the center of your chest, pushing you back into Ghost to make just enough room for him to squeeze between him and the wall.

You're left using his body to hold yourself up, instinctually gripping his arms to keep from collapsing.

He nudges your chin up with one hand as Ghost starts to really pound into you, leaving you drooling onto his thumb.

"Don't worry, bonnie," he winks. "I don't mind sloppy seconds."

#sorry for that horrible last line LMFAO #ghoap x reader #bo writes #1k celebration

[fiapartridge]

summer lovin' | luke hughes

luke hughes x bsf!reader

summary: it's another summer at the lake house and everything is different, yet nothing has changed...

word count: 1.7k

warning(s): cursing, little heated makeout sesh but nothin too spicy

i love lake house imagines, they're always such good vibes

It was the first night of the summer and you couldn’t be more excited. You and the boys had a tradition every first night of the summer before everyone else came (“everyone else” being Duker, Z, Turcs, Coley, and Alex). You would jump into the freezing cold lake, your mom would scold the four of you for tracking water into the house, Ellen would start on dinner, and you and Luke would go rifling through the cabinets, trying to find all the ingredients to make s’mores. Your mom always had the kitchen stocked with food by the time you guys were done jumping into the lake.

Once everyone’s bathing suits were on, it was a race down to the dock. And every single year, after everyone’s bedroom doors swung open, and your eyes met in a showdown that would rival that of a cowboy duel in old western films, you would say the starting line. “LAST ONE TO THE DOCK IS A ROTTEN EGG!”

And all hell broke loose.

Jack hip-checked you the second you flooded into the hallway, you grabbed Luke’s ankle, yanking him to the ground as Quinn gave Jack whiplash by pulling on the back of his cap. The journey to the dock was always ruthless. Ellen liked to call it “The Hunger Games” and she swore she could always feel a slight rumble once everyone’s doors to their rooms flew open and they fearlessly bounded into the hallway.

Jack slid down the stair railings, you climbed on top of Quinn’s back as he rushed down the steps, and Luke took the stairs three steps at a time with his long legs, beating everyone to the bottom floor of the house. 

From the living room and out the back door, it was a simple sprint to the dock with the occasional pushing and shoving, mainly from Jack. Quinn liked to maintain a linear path with a quick pace and Luke always held your hand (it made it easier to drag you into the lake once you got to the dock).

Once everyone’s feet hit the wood of the dock, it was only seconds later until they were in the water, kicking back up to the surface. 

“You bitch!” you laughed as Luke took hold of your ankle, pulling you back down. As soon as you popped up from the water, you grabbed his curls, dunking him back in.

Jack and Quinn were already back on the dock, sitting side by side as they held makeshift mics and commentated on your guys’ fight. 

“Y/N has him by the neck! OH, and he’s back under the water!” Jack announced, putting on his professional announcer voice. “She has this one in the bag! I would tap out now if I were you, Lukey.”

Quinn shook his head. “No way! Moosey can slam dunk her five foot ass in his sleep!”

You resurfaced, latching onto Luke’s shoulder. “I’m not five feet!”

“Right,” Quinn nodded. “Four foot eleven, I mean.”

You rolled your eyes, splashing him as the two boys laughed upon reentering the lake, dowsing you and Luke with water. Luke grabbed hold onto the bottom of your thigh, swinging your leg over his back, and hiking you up his shoulders. The air felt cold against your exposed skin, but you couldn’t care in the slightest. This was your favorite moment of the summer.

No parents, no rules, and as much as you love the other boys, it was nice just being with the “core four” as your mom and Ellen liked to call your group.

Once the sun started to set, and your energies began to die down, you made it back into the house, getting greeted with the smell of homemade dinner and, based on so many summers before, Ellen’s famous apple pie. 

“Water!” your mom pointed out as you all groaned in response, quickly wiping yourselves down on the back porch and reentering the house.

 “Get showered and meet us outside– the weather is so nice tonight,” Ellen smiled, kissing everyone’s cheeks as your footsteps up the stairs rattled the walls of the house. You always felt so tired and heavy after swimming in the lake for hours, but you somehow always had energy. Quinn claimed you were on crack (“There’s no way she isn’t! She’s slept for four hours in the past two days and somehow still wants to play tennis!”), but Luke always knew that you were just excited. You talked about the summer all the time, and with Luke and Jack being in New Jersey, Quinn being in Vancouver, and you being in California, it was hard to find any time to be with them.

“Welcome to the 20th Annual Hughes L/N Summer Vacation Fun Time!” Ellen beamed, clapping as she watched everyone’s contorted faces. “What?”

Quinn was the first to burst out laughing, followed by Jack, you, Luke, and then - surprisingly - your mom. “You really have to think of a shorter title, El,” your mom snickered, passing the mashed potatoes around the table. 

You were having dinner in the backyard, fairy lights strung around poles, fireflies dancing in the warm summer air, music humming out of Jack’s old mini speaker (you bought it for him for Christmas a couple years ago and he never leaves home without it), and the sound of water gently rushing against each other, which pulled you back to the present. 

“No! You called Dad and told him that I had herpes!” Quinn pointed at Jack from across the table, the rest of you laughing like there was no tomorrow.

Jack rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell him you had herpes, I told him you had mono,” he scoffed, shoving a piece of steak into his mouth.

“Yeah, I was the one who told him you had herpes,” you chuckled as you jumped out of your seat, sprinting away from Quinn as he chased you around the backyard before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. 

“I will drop you into the lake, Y/N/N.”

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, you couldn’t stop laughing. You hit his back. “Let me down, Huggy, or I’ll tell him you have Gonorrhea and Syphilis, too!”

Quinn dropped you back into your seat, shaking his head. “No more med students at the lake house.”

Everyone laughed before Ellen broke out into a story about the time Jack fell into the toilet when he was three. 

“I was small and the toilet bowl was massive, okay! It was destined to happen!”

Luke smiled at you, watching you giggle and joke with his family. No one else knew this, but Luke visited you in California every couple months. He liked to blame it on the gigantic ocean waves and also getting to see Z and Turcs, but you both knew it was more than that. But you also both knew that you would hate yourselves if this perfect dynamic was ruined because you guys tried to be something. 

Luke leaned in, whispering. “Roof after dinner?”

You simply nodded, knowing you were going to go whether he asked or not. It was another tradition, but just for you and Luke. 

By the time dinner was over, your back was resting against the exterior of the house, sitting 20 feet above ground level. You waited for Luke to join you on the roof as he said he was going to help Quinn text this new girl he was talking to. You were sure that Quinn would do much better without the unique stylings of Luke Hughes’ so-called “rizz,” but you let him be, excited to see them crash and burn later on. 

As Luke slipped through the window and sat down beside you, you watched the stars blanket the night sky, illuminating the atmosphere around you. It was easier to see the stars here at the lake house rather than in California where you were constantly surrounded by bright lights emitted by tall buildings and trillions of cars.

“I wish I could stay here forever,” you sighed, resting your head against Luke’s shoulder.

“What, you don’t love California?” he joked, knowing that you absolutely hated it. You hated being away from home, you hated being away from your friends, you hated being away from your family, and you especially hated being away from Luke. He was your best friend, and for the past couple of years, it felt like he was more than that.

“I thought I loved it. But there’s no you there,” you frowned, nudging the side of his arm. “There’s no Quinn, there’s no Jack, there’s no Ellen. My mom is on the other side of the country, the people are rude and stuck-up, and… I just hate being away from you.”

Luke sighed before sitting up, slipping your head off his shoulder. “Why don’t you just come back?”

You narrowed your eyebrows, not quite understanding what he was talking about. “What?”

“Why don’t you transfer to UMich? I mean, our moms live in Michigan, it’s only an hour away from Jersey by plane. You already know all my teammates from college, your friends go there, it has one of the best nursing programs in the US. I mean, it makes sense, right?”

“It’s not that easy.”

His arms rose. “Why not?”

“I still have to apply and–”

“You’ll get in,” he stated, his hands holding onto your shoulders. “You’re the smartest person I know, Y/N/N. Michigan would be stupid not to accept you.”

And it would be stupid to kiss him right now, right? 

Right?

Before you could even question it, your lips were already on his, moving back and forth like the lake when you guys would go wakesurfing: messy, hungry, sweet, exhilarating. Luke grabbed the back of your thigh, hiking you over him as he held onto your waist. Your hands were tangled in his mess of curls, your tongues fighting for dominance. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Luke muttered against your lips.

You smirked, biting on his bottom lip as he elicited a low groan. He kissed down your jaw, settling on your neck as you leaned back, giving him more access to the skin there. Your breaths were ragged as he sucked on a spot that felt so good.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed.

“NO WAY!” Luke’s lips were off you in a second as you both made eye contact with Jack who stood by the window, his jaw slacked in shock and two cans of White Claws rolling out of his hands. “QUINNER, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE! THEY’RE TRYING TO HAVE SEX!”

#luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #the summer i turned pretty #tsitp

[impishjesters]

Mafia Boss Jax x Reader

warning(s): gun mentioned, stalking mentioned, domestic/soft Jax, marriage mentioned note(s): Honestly couldn't really see much worth tagging, it's all just stuff you'd expect to see mentioned in a mafia/gang headcanon... A/N: So I saw a fanart thingie (and I've had it on the brain anyway) and it made me thirsty for some mafia boss Jax and I just... I might have to write up a one-shot (or series) at some point but this was enough to quench my thirst...temporarily. I can definitely see myself building a universe around this idea though. I'm excited as you can tell because I just kept fuckin' going in writing this out... Also feast upon domestic Jax in the latter half, I got mushy...

Jax is a tricky boss, it’s hard to get a solid read on him, as an enemy or an ally. He’s almost always sporting a grin, making it difficult to gauge unless you can tell those smiles apart. If he’s frowning? Ha.

He’s that fine middle ground of laid-back yet strict. His word is law, get shit done and do it right and he doesn’t particularly care about the rest.

This person needs to be killed, but before that, they need to be tortured for information. How you torture or kill them doesn’t matter, you get that information or else.

Rabbits are his motif design, not originally by choice but it stuck. Purple rabbit head, his signature grin, it’s childish—which is why it’s perfect, only idiots see that childish design and think “Oh this will be easy” and then it’s fuckin not.

Working for him means nobody is an exception to his little pranks and fuckery. Nothin’ too bad—not intentionally anyways. Bunch of wackos with guns, who thought they’d get trigger-happy when startled?

If you work for him, chances are he finds you a fun target for his mischief.

He might seem buddy buddy with you, but remember he’s your boss. Chances are you are acquaintances at best, not friends. At least for now—who knows?

If you’re dating him, well howdy hey aren’t you a pretty little thing on his arm?

Just kidding, regardless of whether you work under him or not you are given standard gun training as protection for yourself and him, but mainly yourself.

He does like it when you are his date for any events, though he’ll never say it. Jax is the type to bring up an event and do the whole shtick of “guess I’ll need to find a date” sorta guy.

Back on the topic of dating him and gun training—on the off chance you are dating and don’t know about his little crew and lifestyle… What the fuck’s wrong with you? Are you that blind? His position isn’t some well-kept secret, well not to anyone who knows anything.

Jax is pretty straightforward about it, except with his track record of joking there’s like a 97% chance you thought he was kidding when he said he’s a mafia boss. Ha, surprise.

Now if the two of you are dating, and you aren’t part of his little world then he does do his best to keep you out of it. This means that there are periods when you won’t see him, whether it’s because he’s busy or for safety reasons.

You aren’t safe from spam texts, calls, and video chats though. Nah, that’s all fair game to him baby.

Oh, you got work in the morning? Tough, he’ll stay on the phone/video with you until you pass out—he might go a step further and stay on the call for hours even if you are unconscious.

He does it for one of three reasons…

One, it gives him fuel to use whatever shit you say or do in your sleep to tease you with later.

Two, your company, albeit silent and unaware that you’re keeping him company, makes him feel less alone. Moments like this are often when he’s not working and at home, alone. Hearing you breathe, babble, and shuffle around on speaker has him feeling less alone in that big home of his.

Three, it gives him some piece of mind that you are okay, he can see and hear you, and no guns or glass are breaking to be heard. You’re safe. Moments like this are usually after stressful events, whether it’s a job gone wrong, someone injured, etc.

Those calls usually last through the night into the morning and you wake up and see the call still on or see him on the screen. He’s never told you about why some calls continue into the morning, or rather why he’s still awake when he should’ve been sleeping. Though it doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s not just him being a stalker, but something more serious—if the oddly sweet tone he uses when telling you good morning and asking how you slept is anything to go by.

That said, Jax is not a morning person—even to you. Though if he’s awake before you or has yet to sleep, he’s oddly tender and domestic when it’s just the two of you.

“How’d ya sleep, angel? Dream of me? Nah, don’t answer that, I know ya did.”

“Hey sleepyhead, got ya coffee and breakfast ready. No, I didn’t put anything suspicious in it. I’m wounded doll, ya think I’d put in all that effort to make you breakfast just to ruin it?”

Okay so he’s still a little shit, but he’s got an unspoken soft spot for you.

Speaking of soft spots, if he’s truly down bad for you then that means you are his weakness. He can’t have those—no he’s not gonna kill ya Christ calm down—that means you’re at risk of getting hurt if word gets out.

So if the two of you aren’t at that level yet and are still living apart, he tries hard to keep his distance to keep the attention off you.

But if you are living together? You’re still at risk but he’s got his security measures, and bodyguards galore—even if you don’t live together he always has someone watching you—sure it’s a little creepy but just don’t think about it alright?

I said don’t think about it.

Jax does yet doesn’t understand the line of stalking. To him he’s keeping you safe, to you it’s likely an invasion of your privacy—but if you are anything like me then as long as there’s no malicious intent he can do his own thing. I dunno bout you but I’d rather him have eyes on me than something bad happen to me.

While living together it doesn’t take a genius to tell you that Jax visibly relaxes in your presence, especially when he comes home and gets into bed with you. He’s such a domestic sucker deep down, but you don’t need words to see that.

Overall, I feel like Jax wouldn’t date you if he didn’t have serious feelings for you. His lifestyle isn’t for everyone and he doesn’t open up to just anyone, it could take years before he finally allows himself to even ask you out on a date before considering more. But once the two of you are together he sees the two of you in for the long run, he’ll probably be upfront about it and say if you aren’t in this for the long run and potential marriage then he can’t do it.

Your Jax’s ride or die, please allow him to be yours too.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

[ghostboneswrites2]

Can't Ruin That || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Summary: Fluffy little one shot. Daryl gives you a gift :)

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity

        "Found this for you." He said, holding out a small white box. You stared at it for a moment. You hadn't received a gift in so long that you didn't even know how to show gratitude for the gesture. Nowadays, in a life centered around survival, acts of gratitude usually included a curt nod and watching each others backs. That was how you showed each other you cared, not gifts.

        "I--"

        "Just open it." He cut you off.

        You pressed your lips together tightly and took the little box out of his hand. You took a moment to just feel it. The weight of it, the shape of it, the thought behind it. Then, you pulled the lid up and gasped. It was a petite sliver chain with a tiny star shaped medallion. You lifted the necklace out of the box and rested it in your palm, gently tracing your finger over it with admiration. 

        He found it at a jewelry store while looking for new watch chains since Glenn's had snapped. It reminded him of you, because you loved to sneak outside at night and lay in the grass in the courtyard, staring up at the stars. He'd catch you out there often when he'd step out for a smoke in the fresh air. 

        "Ain't nothin' special. Just reminded me of you." He shrugged.

        You looked up at him like you always did, in that way that just killed him. You were just so.. sweet. The way your eyes somehow got bigger and rounder when they landed on him, or the way you smiled so small, but it said so many big things about the way you saw him. Nobody had ever looked at him that way, with so much swoon.

        In the camp outside Atlanta, he was just the asshole they kept around because he could hunt. He was just 'the younger Dixon,' the one with the temper and the crossbow. At Hershel's farm, he was good for tracking, and Carol grew to care for him as he searched perilously for her baby girl. But it was just that, nothing more. After the farm, he was more respected as he grew closer to Rick, and there at the prison he was reminded almost daily how important he was. But you? You still looked at him like nobody else ever had. And damn it, did you make yourself cozy in that little soft spot he had formed for you, the one that grew bigger and softer and warmer every day. He couldn't have kicked you out of there if he tried.

        Looking down at you while you gazed up at him, with so much admiration, put him on top of the world. He began to realize he'd do anything, kill anyone, just to see that look in those eyes.

        "It's beautiful." You grinned. 

        He chewed at his inner cheek, biting down hard in an attempt to conceal that little triumphant  smile that begged to show itself.

        "I'll find a better one eventually. This one'll have to do 'til then." He said, as he scooped the necklace out of your hand. "Turn around."

        You spun around as he said. He waited only a second for you to lift your hair for him before he gave in to the urge to do it himself when you hadn't. He brushed the hair over one shoulder, his calloused finger grazing lightly over your soft skin, sending a wave of goosebumps over you. He reached over your head and pulled either end of the necklace around your neck, clasping it together and puling your hair back the way it was. You turned back to him, blushing at his small but significant acts of affection. 

        You saw him for who he was, not what everyone else wanted him to be. He was kind. He was gentle. He was capable of great things. He just needed the right person to show him that it was okay to let his walls down sometimes, and you were determined to be that person.

        "Thank you." You said.

        "Weren't nothin'." He waved it off.

        "It is something to me." You corrected. 

        Neither of you were oblivious to the onlookers around the courtyard. You had greeted him at the gate when he came back from that run, so there were plenty of busy bodies all around you. Somehow the two of you always grabbed the attention from the others, especially when he doted on you in those ways. They all saw how you looked at him, and how he looked at you. He was shameless about it. He always hated when the world outside got even the tiniest peak inside, but he didn't mind when they saw how much you deserved his affections.

        "Are you too tired for a walk?" You questioned.

        "Nah." He shook his head. He nodded to Carl who pulled the gate open, and with just a few walkers to take down, the two of you faded off into the forestry. You loved those walks. They were always peaceful and comfortable.

        "I found something for us." You told him. 

        "Yeah?" 

        "Yeah." You nodded, pulling a single packaged Twinkie out of your jacket pocket. 

        "I'll be damned."

        "I know, right? I was wandering around the prison and found it in a desk drawer. Untouched." You gloated.

        "Shouldn't be wanderin' around by yourself like that. Ain't cleared everywhere inside yet." He scolded. You rolled your eyes, smirking a little.

        "So... You don't want half of the Twinkie?"

        "Give me that." He said, quickly snatching it from your hand. 

        "Hey!" You shrilled, reaching for it as he passed it to his other hand and held it far away from you, while using the hand closest to you to hold you back. 

        "You can have some when we find a spot." He said. You huffed with defeat as you marched along side him. He chuckled a little at your frustration.

        "That was my loot, Dixon." You complained.

        "Can't go showin' off like that if ya ain't prepared to fight for it." He teased.

        "Oh,  I'll go to war for that Twinkie." You retorted.

        "Here." He said, nodding to a fallen tree. The both of you took a seat beside each other as he tore the package open. Your jaw clenched a little as the sweet aroma of sugar and high fructose corn syrup hit your nostrils. He tore the little cake in half and passed you the side he thought was bigger, but you were too excited to notice that. In an instant the two halves disappeared down your throats. You moaned as you tasted it, and almost cried when it was gone.

        "I hated them damn things before all this." He admitted.

        "I wasn't such a fan either." You agreed. "More of a Zebra Cake gal."

        "Nah. Them little Christmas tree cakes was where it was at." He argued.

        "Those were good, but Zebra Cakes had a specific Play-Dough taste that I hated to love." 

        "Mm." He nodded. "The trees had the sprinkles, though. Need that crunch to pull the whole thing together."

        "But the Zebras didn't need the crunch, which is why they were superior." 

        "Agree to disagree." He said, but after a moment of silence; "You're wrong, though."

        "Wow. You suck at agreeing to disagree." You laughed.

        You two let some time go by, listening to the natural orchestra of birds and chipmunks and leaves tumbling around in the chilly fall breeze. You looked over at him. His mind was somewhere else, wandering. He only came back to the present when he felt you staring through him.

        "What?" He asked. You shrugged. You were simply admiring the golden halo of sunlight that illuminated the stray hairs on his head. But, could you tell him that?"

        "Just enjoying the view, is all." You shrugged. He scoffed and shook his head.

        "Yeah, right."

        "What does that mean?" You asked.

        "I'm covered in sweat and dry walker guts." He pointed out.

        "So?"

        "So, what?  You into that kinda thing or somethin'?" 

        You giggled.

        "I like how you look when the afternoon light hits you just right." You admitted. He fell at a loss for words. He didn't know how to take that, or respond to it.

        "Too bad ya can't see yourself right now." He mumbled. You almost didn't hear him, so naturally it took a second for you to process what he said, but when you did your heart melted. 

        "Maybe we can take each other's word for it." You smiled. Your eyes lingered on each other for a moment, before you found yourself leaning closer to him. He didn't move. He was unsure if you were doing what he thought you were, but when your lips brushed his and and stayed there for a short time, before you pulled away, he knew. 

        Panic set in. When was the last time he had kissed someone? Was he even supposed to be kissing you? Surely if the world saw him too comfortable, too happy, it would rip you away from him. He stood up abruptly, picking up his crossbow and speeding away. Your heart sank down to your stomach.

        "Wait!" You said, jumping up and jogging after him. "Wait! Please!" You pleaded.

        He stopped and spun around fast. You almost ran straight into him. He was breathing hard, shouldered raising up and down.

        "I--I'm sorry. I thought -- Look. If I misread, then we can just pretend it didn't happen, if that's what you want. I just... Please. Please don't shut me out. Don't close up. I didn't mean to ruin it." You begged, stumbling over your words.

        "Ruin what?"

        "Us! The way things are."

        His heated expression faltered, softening a little as your watery, panicked eyes searched his.

        "Can't ruin that." He relented, softly.

        "Then why'd you run away?"

        "I didn't run." He defended. "You just -- You walk slow."

        You scoffed.

        "That's not what I meant and you know it." You glared. He chewed at his bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably.

        "Just.." He shrugged, searching for the right words. He wasn't good at this, or at least he didn't think he was. Up until the point of walking away from you just then, you were always impressed with him, even though he didn't impress himself. He took a breath. "I'm sorry."

        "It's okay just don't shut me out okay?" You repeated. He nodded. The way he was looking reminded you of a puppy being scolded. You took two steps forward until you were close to him -- real close. "I'll stop of you tell me to." You whispered as you leaned in again, this time painstakingly slow, wanting to give him every opportunity to protest. He didn't, and if he wanted to, it was too late. You kissed him again, slow and sweet. His body was rigid, but he didn't fight. He didn't want to, but it did scare him. The more he cared, the more it would hurt if you were gone, but he guessed it was too late for that anyways.

        His unsure hands slowly found your waist as his lips began to loosen and find your rhythm. He realized this was like some kind of drug. It got him high, the feeling of something so intimate with you. You were such a prize, so delicate and worth protecting, something meant to be locked away in a glass case and never touched by unworthy hands. He knew in that moment why he was so afraid, and it was because his hands were unworthy. 

        To you, though, he was the only person you wanted to be touched by. You reached around his neck and hugged over his shoulders. He pulled you in closer and you ignored the scratchy feeling of his stubble against your skin. Your hands found their way into his sweaty hair and you wove your fingers through the strands, gently, but not so gentle that he couldn't feel how desperate you were for him.

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x female reader #mdni

[ex-mortis-evie]

Hey there, tiger.

Thought up another game we could play, you in?

It’s a simple one, really.

No tricks, no scams, nothin’.

Just three cups in your mind.

You can see them, can’t you?

Pretty, white cups.

Three pretty cups on a table in front of you.

And under one, well

Are all those worries and resistance.

Don’t worry, don’t worry.

I don’t doubt you’ll be able to find them easily.

Just watch the cups, ‘Kay?

It’s easy.

All you have to do is watch me start to shift these cups around.

And you can just guess where your resistance ends up.

Easy, isn’t it?

Hey, that’s the name of the game, darling.

Juuuust try not to get too dizzy on these cups, alright sweetie?

There it is.

Look at that deep focus on the cups.

Keep those eyes glued on them as they start to swivel and sway with each motion of my hands.

Slowly swapping them around.

It’s easy to keep track of them, isn’t it?

See? I told you it was easy.

And it gets easier as they start to shift just a bit faster.

You can keep those pretty eyes glued to the pretty cups for me, can’t you?

Don’t lose track now.

Else you’ll lose aaaaall that pretty resistance all to me.

And while I’d love that, I don’t know if it’s quite your calling.

I mean, it is pretty fun watching these cups go round and round, spinning and switching so quickly.

And while I know you’d like to keep fighting off that sleepy feeling, that’s just part of the focus, darling.

You need to keep your focus or else you’ll surely lose.

So keep those eyes glued to my pretty cups, going around and around faster now.

You don’t wanna lose all that resistance to me, right?

So then, keep those eyes on me as my hands go faster and become a bit harder to track.

Spinning and swapping, my pretty hands throwing the pretty cups all around.

Eyes so deeply focused and attentive to every detail as the cups go faster and become a bit blurrier.

It’s alright if those pretty eyes of yours blur watching the pretty cups, it’s alright if they lose a bit of focus.

You still have them on me as the cups go round and round and round and round your mind.

Spinning around your brain now as I start to really pick up the speed.

It feels like I’m just swapping that brain up now, doesn’t it?

It’s okay darling, just keep focus on the pretty cups instead of that pretty brain of yours.

The cups going faster and faster and faster around your pretty brain, throwing those pretty thoughts for a loop.

Each thought getting swept up under my pretty cups, each one becoming so much easier to focus on even if those eyes blur and sway with the flow of the cups.

Around and around your brain goes, each thought being swapped and switched around so easily now.

Unable to think straight as the pretty cups go round and round, your brain going for a spin with each little switch.

So hard to think, so hard to keep track of my pretty cups as they swap your pretty brain all around for me.

It’s cool if you just wanna focus on the cups more for me, lost in their rhythm and speed as they switch each thought around.

Losing more and more of that pretty little brain to me as my cups go faster and faster, so impossible to track for that sleepy little mind of yours.

Feeling every part of your brain now swapping and switching with the pretty cups, as if they’re your mind being controlled by my pretty hands.

Swapped and switched all around for me, spun in a nice little loop as that brain’s so dizzy and dazed for me.

The cups spinning so quick before they

Just

Stop.

Just stop darling.

The cups stop.

My hands stop.

Your brain stops.

I can tell you’re feeling a bit dizzy, darling.

Do you remember which cup your resistance was under?

Or do you even care anymore?

That’s what I thought, silly.

It’s better when that pretty brain’s all switched around for me, isn’t it?

Good thrall.

Go ahead and just relax then, I’ve got some plans for you.

Feel free to give me a nice comment or reblog telling me how you feel.

And as always, stay cool, tiger.

#hypnosis #hypnotism #brainwashing #mind conditioning #mind control #brain drain #hypnotized #hypnok1nk #covert hypnosis #hypnosub #hypnodom

[pahtoosh]

In one of your lates work lee said she is a brat.. can I request something based on this?

Like when she gets upset that HE her DADDY called her something mean . How does he earn her trust and forgiveness back? 🥺

airhead

[image ID: a gif of lee bodecker frowning by tumblr user UnEarthlyDust. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~1200 words

warnings: name-calling, lee gets very mad in this, apologies and tears with one reallyyy long hug. gets a little preachy at the end which i normally don’t vibe with but it felt appropriate for this au

a/n: i cannot even BEGIN to tell you how excited i was when i read this request! i tried writing it immediately but the story got away from me several times🤭 anyway today i managed to stay on track! woo! thank you so much, lovely anon. i hope you like this one🫶

pairing: lee bodecker x gn!little!reader

summary: lee takes his frustrations out on you and accidentally calls you something mean

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“And look! Now Bingo Bunny has a hat to match his brown pants.”

“That’s nice, sweetheart-“

“Oh! I forgot his brown glasses too!” You ran back to your room to pick up yet another tiny accessory to show Lee. Ever since he got home an hour ago, you were running back and forth between his office and your room to show him your new treasures. Each toy had a story that reminded you of another toy which also had a story that connected to a totally different toy.

Lee sighed. He’d seen your entire toy collection by now. This little show-and-tell had started with the toys you bought by yourself today and devolved into a near encyclopedia of your entire collection.

Lee wanted to indulge your need for attention, but he needed to make one last phone call before he was officially done with work for today. Lee found he could never truly relax if he knew he had something to do or somewhere to be.

“I got the glasses! Look at Bingo, Daddy!” You held the bunny out and made him do a little dance.

“He’s lookin’ sharp, sugar.” He beckoned you over and leaned a little closer, then began to speak as if he were telling you a secret. You stopped buzzing for a moment to give Lee all of your focus, he knew just how to excite you and get your attention.

“Why don’t cha make a few more outfits for Bingo and do a fashion show for me later, yeah? Spend a long time on ‘em now. Make sure they’re perfect.”

“Okay, Daddy!” You left your daddy’s office once again, unaware that he was just trying to distract you.

Lee took advantage of this moment to swiftly lock his door and make the phone call. The sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could be a proper daddy to you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

What was supposed to be a ten minute call ended up getting to forty minutes. Lee and Deputy O’Connolly were trying to review the security plan for the county fair, but they kept running into issues. Lee was nearing the end of his rope.

“What kinda idiot put Burke and Smith on entrance security? Those two ain’t nothin’ but trouble. Put ‘em together and add the pretty girls entering the fair into the mix and the line’ll grow ‘till it’s near half a mile!”

“I tell ya, this is the last time I trust anyone else to do shift assignments,” Lee groaned.

The two men continued talking as they made edits to their respective paper copies of the security plan. Then, Lee heard your little hand trying to wiggle open his office door.

“Hold on a second.” Lee covered the receiver and shouted to you, “I’m a bit busy right now!”

You shouted a response, but your voice didn’t project as well as Lee’s and it was muffled by the door.

“I’ll be out later, bunny! Just give me ten more minutes!” Lee thought that was the end of it, but you continued shaking the doorknob and started trying to push the door in.

“For the love of- I’ll call ya back later, Deputy.” Lee hung up the phone and stomped to the door, opening it with a huff.

You were still leaning on the door, but you managed to find your footing after the wood abruptly slipped away from you.

“Oh! Daddy, hi!”

“What is it? Is there a fire?”

“I got Bingo all dressed up! Come look!” You tried pulling Lee’s hand so he’d follow you, but he stayed rooted in his spot.

“Not now, bunny. Daddy’s on a very important phone call.”

“But you said-“

“Well now I’m sayin’ ‘not now’, aren’t I? You know the rules. Ya can’t interrupt Daddy at work unless it’s an emergency and ya sure as hell can’t go around trying to break down every door that stands in your way!”

“I just wanted to show you my Bingo,” you said quietly.

“And I’ll look at him later, but right now I’ve gotta explain to Deputy O’Connolly why I hung up on him ‘cause you’re too much of a damn airhead to know what a locked door means!”

You froze in front of Lee, too stunned to react.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Shit. Baby, I-“

Before Lee could continue, a whimper made its way out of your mouth, breaking you out of your trance and allowing you to run away.

Your daddy watched as you sped into your room and shut the door. He felt pathetic for taking his anger out on his baby. The sheriff wasn’t used to the feeling of white-hot anger and shame rolled into one. These weren’t the actions of the man he prided himself on being.

Lee took a few deep breaths before trying to open your door. You’d taken a page out of his book and locked it this time. You didn’t usually do this. Even when you were upset, you’d leave it unlocked, not even thinking to keep Lee out.

“Bunny, please open the door. Daddy wants to say somethin’ to ya.” Lee leaned his head on the door.

“Daddy gonna say somefin mean ‘gain!” you sobbed.

“No I’m not, I wanna apologize to ya.” Lee sighed. “I’m gonna get the key to your door okay? I need you to hear this.”

“No! No! Don’t wanna hear anything! Just leave me alone!”

Lee’s heart broke at the realization that he had lost your trust. He was your daddy. He was supposed to love you unconditionally and protect you from people who said mean things: people like him.

A tear slid down Lee’s cheek. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Daddy’s so fuckin’ sorry he said those mean things to ya. You’re not an airhead. You’re my smart, sweet, beautiful baby. I don’t deserve a perfect little thing like ya.”

Lee leaned against the wall. He was willing to wait as long as it took for you to let him in. To his surprise, not a minute later were you bursting through the door and wrapping your arms around him.

“Hey there, bunny. There’s my sweet baby,” Lee cooed.

You were still crying as you clung onto him. Lee continued soothing you with his words and touch.

“I know, I know.”

“Daddy’s so sorry, baby.”

When the last sobs left your body, Lee apologized again. It wasn’t perfect. Lee was never great with words. But it was soft and real. A gentle whisper in your ear while he hugged you so tight that you felt his tummy rumble with each passing syllable.

“I forgive you, Daddy.”

“You don’t have to, bunny. Daddy was awful to ya. Give me some time to make things right.”

You shook your head against his chest. “I forgive you,” you repeated, stubbornly.

Lee was at a loss for words. How could he ever repay your love? He settled for kissing your forehead and lingering for a moment. He thought about how lucky he was to have you and, for the first time in a while, Lee prayed. He prayed to someone, anyone, that he’d be able to make this up to you.

#lee bodecker x little!reader #daddy!lee bodecker x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #angst #fluff #sfw age regression #agere fic #littlespace fics #airhead #toosh writes #requests

[vargskelegore]

OK! So transfer student shuri showing up to your practice, with an extra water bottle! Transfer student Shuri who says "I'm here for _____" and takes ur bag with all ur stuff in it, slings it across her shoulder and walks u to ur dorm!. Pls I need this!

author's note: now thats some gay ass shitttttt, ain't no way reader's friends would assume their relationship is straight.

friends, huh? - hbcu!shuri x black!reader

word count: 958 words. (shorter than normal, sorry!)

homecoming was coming up fairly soon, and your majorette team was stopping at nothing to perfect the routine that was being prepared for the school.

your school’s band decided the song they would play for the homecoming game was remember the time by michael jackson, and your majorette team would prepare the dance for the song.

with being homecoming being a little under a week away, these practices got more intense. you were the leader of the majorettes, too, so this was more pressure on you than anybody else.

as the practice continued, your water was beginning to run out, and as of right now, since your school was so cheap, the water lines in the gyms and practice rooms/halls weren’t working properly.

you mentally cursed yourself as your team went over the dance routine one more time. “fuck.. i think i’m gonna die if i don’t get no damn water soon.” you muttered. “alright ladies, we’re gonna take ten, if you need to go get water from the other building, feel free, i don’t care.” you were out of breath, and needing a towel asap.

you went to go sit down in the locker room, checking your phone. your face lit up when you saw a message from shuri. opening up your phone, it was a selfie of her, smiling, walking outside. you tilted your head a bit. where was she walking to? not that it was any of your business.

you replied a quick ‘cute :)’ before setting your phone down to get a towel from your locker. coming back, you see she read it, but nothing more. you frowned a bit, because usually she’d walk and text you at the same time, but not this time you assumed.

you overthought a lot-- you never meant to do that, but it always happened. combine that with dance practice, and you were bound to have a stroke.

you sighed for a bit before turning off your phone, because you realized the ten minutes was up, and everyone was back, chatting.

you left the locker room with your towel, setting your phone down next to your bag.

a couple of girls were having a conversation about someone, squealing and giggling. “y’all seen that girl that transferred here? shit, i didn’t think i liked girls til i saw her.” a couple of them laughed, and you raised your eyebrow, wondering what they were talking about, you called out.

“who y’all talkin bout?” you simply asked, getting prepared for another practice.

“nothin, just that new girl.. where she from, wakanda?” you stopped in your tracks once you heard that. they were talking about shuri. your stomach turned a bit hearing them talk about her like that.

“oh, her.. yeah i know who y’all are talking about. why are y’all talking about her?” your voice was a bit weary, but you tried not to show it.

“we saw her walking down the sidewalk.” another girl said, her voice getting all giggly from talking about shuri.

you stomached the way they spoke, clearing your throat before clapping. “alright y’all we need to run the dance again! we ain’t got much time.” your leader voice came through because you couldn’t bare to have this conversation.

there was about ten more run throughs of the dance in twenty minutes, and you were burnt out.

as the rehearsal came to a close, you gathered the girls in a circle to talk about things that need to be fixed in the future rehearsal.

“alright y’all, we did good today but it needs to be better tomorrow. i’m really proud of what we have going on as of right now, but i’m sure we can do better--”

you were interrupted by the loud door opening. all the girls turned around to look, and you were confused yourself at who could’ve came in.

“..are you looking for something?” one of the girls called out. you could hear some of them giggling at who walked into the room, and whispering.

“uh.. i’m here for y/n.” your ears perked up at who it was. shuri.

she was holding up a water bottle, other hand in her hoodie pocket as she stood there awkwardly.

you moved away from the girls to walk up to shuri. you could see her face visibly light up once she saw you.

“what are you doing here? i thought you were studying..” you whispered to her as you walked up to her. she only laughed.

“when you were complaining about there being no water in the gym, i asked you when rehearsal ended so i could give you some.. i didn’t want to interrupt during the rehearsal.” she was clearly shy and embarrassed because everyone else was staring at you.

“that’s so sweet.. um- thank you, shuri.” your face was getting warm as you grabbed the water from her.

“oh, so you wasn’t finna tell us that you know her, y/n?” one of your co-majorettes called out. everyone else just laughed. you cleared your throat.

“well, she and i are friends-- wait, why are you in my business? rehearsal is over, y’all go back home.” you were quick to speak as shuri went over to grab your bag and put it over her shoulder. “i’m ready when you are, y/n.” her voice was back to being soft as the girls giggled some more.

“friends, my ass.” one of them whispered. you were so embarrassed at this point, there was nothing more to say.

“girl hush, y’all better get out of here before y’all get locked inside.” you warned as you walked out of the dance practice room with shuri.

there was something neither you and shuri could deny,

and that was being friends was kiiinda overrated.

#shuri udaku #shuri udaku x reader #shuri x reader #black reader #shuri #sam is obsessed with shuri #sam answers asks #imagine #hbcu!shuri #princess shuri #black panther

[brewstersbru]

A little comfort continuation of my riz 💚character study (aftermath w/ jawbone to the rescue!! hes such a dad 🐺)

Riz meant to go back inside. He did. He was going to heave himself up and amble back in, wedging himself between Fabian and Fig (if they hadn’t already filled his space with their flailing limbs in the short time he’d been out).

He was going to do it. Just as soon as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Just as soon as he got a handle on things.

It can’t have been longer than twenty minutes after Pok hung up when the door behind him creaks open. Shit. He thought he had more time. Riz swallows and blinks frantically as if that will somehow cover the puffiness to his eyes, the tear tracks that- despite excessive scrubbing- won’t completely go away.

 “Riz.” It’s Jawbone. There’s relief in his voice, but something else too. A yawning kind of drowsiness. Riz takes a deep breath, ignoring the sinking ball of guilt in his gut.

“Hey, Jawbone, sorry. Did I wake you up?” He almost surprises himself with the calmness in his voice, but is glad of it, nonetheless. What an inconvenient time to find out he actually can lie convincingly.   

The door creaks again and there’s a sharp click in the silence of the night as Jawbone shuts the door behind him. There are a few moments of scuffling before a weight settles over Riz’s shoulders- warm, fluffy- and Jawbone sits next to him on the steps.

Riz looks down to find that he’s been wrapped in a blanket, one of the nice ones from the linen closet. Had Jawbone known he was out here? How much had he seen? Did he hear anything?

Riz pulls the blanket tighter against himself, suddenly aware of how cold he is.

“Thanks.” He mutters. Jawbone hums and turns to look at him.

“Course. Saw you shivering, didn’t want you to catch a cold or nothin’.” Maybe this is something to do with guidance counselors, or faculty at Auguefort in general, but Jawbone’s gaze is piercing. Riz feels at once flayed open and carefully examined.

He coughs, curling further into himself.

“I can go back in now. Was going to, in a second, but…” He can’t finish the thought, everything that comes to mind is either childish or worrying, neither of which he wants to be in front of Jawbone. He swallows thickly.

Jawbone leans into the railing behind him, getting comfortable. “There’s no rush, Riz. I mean, I do think you need to sleep at some point tonight, but that can wait a little. At least until your tail stops swishin’ like that.” Riz immediately tucks the thing under one of his legs, embarrassed at being betrayed by his own biology. His face burns.

“I’m fine. You’re right, I need to get some sleep before the exam tomorrow, or I’ll be totally useless to the party.” He doesn’t turn to look at Jawbone as he speaks, simply stares resolutely at some of the loose brick in front of him.

“Now I didn’t say that last part, kiddo. You need to sleep ‘cuz it looks like you haven’t gotten a proper eight hours in a while, and I can see it weighing on your shoulders with the rest of it.” Jawbone says, gently. Riz bristles, almost wants to hiss at him. What does he know about what Riz carries on his shoulders?

“I said I’m fine, Jawbone.” He grits, standing. “I should go.” Jawbone curses.

“Wait. Please.” Riz pauses, finally meeting his eyes. They’re as sharp as ever, but soft, too. If that makes any sense. Jawbone continues, “It kills me seein’ you like this kiddo. I feel like a broken record sayin’ this, but I really do mean it, I’m always here to talk if you need to. Or, even if you don’t want to talk I just- it just seems like you could use somebody, is all.”

Riz feels like he’s glitching. His mind is screaming at him to keep walking, to get back in the house, lay down, and close his eyes tight until the sleep takes. But he’s so warm. And he kind of wants to cry again and Jawbone would give him a hug, probably, if he asked for it. Right?

At war with himself, all he manages to do is freeze in his tracks and utter an intelligent, “Um.”

Jawbone smiles and pats the stone next to him.

“Come on. You don’t gotta say anything, but at least sit down. And- oh, here,” He reaches into one of his cardigan’s pockets and produces a small mini chocolate bar. “A little pick-me-up.”

Riz settles gingerly next to him, closer than before but not close enough to touch. He reaches over and takes the chocolate, movements slow as he raises his eyebrows.

Jawbone shrugs. “I always keep a few on me, just in case. Never know when you might need ‘em.”

Riz smiles, small and to himself, for the first time in what feels like hours. Jawbone grins back.

“There he is. If you want another, just ask, I should have one or two more on me.”

Then it’s silent for a good, long while. Riz stares into the pitch black that pushes up against the safe halo of light surrounding the house as he chews on silky chocolate. He can’t help but replay the conversation with his father over and over again in his mind. Jawbone’s head is tilted to the stars.

For all he knows- for all Riz ever knows- that could be the last conversation he is able to have with Pok until he dies again. The watch is what allows them to talk across planes and it, like everything else Riz is and owns, is breakable. It’s unlikely that the watch will break tomorrow (Riz is a ranged fighter, he never gets close if he can help it, nothing should get near enough to him to get to it…), but not impossible. Never impossible.

Something warm and wet drips down his chin and onto his fist, where its clenched around the blanket. Riz brings his other hand to swipe at his eyes. Fuck. He shouldn’t be crying like this. He thought he was cried-out.

Jawbone’s voice rings out from beside him, tender, “Kiddo.”

Riz shakes his head, curling further into the blanket as if the fabric might protect him from this mortifying situation.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “I thought I was done with this part.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay to need to cry, Riz. Definitely nothing you need to apologize for.”

Riz shivers, somehow cold again, even with the blanket. He wants to burrow into Jawbone’s chest, to cling like he used to, to his mom before he grew out of it and became a man (he was so young, then; he should’ve given it more time, he could’ve given it more time). He doesn’t want to ask, though.

Doesn’t know if he can ask.

Jawbone looks down at him- shivering, hunched underneath a thin cotton blanket- and he must see something that Riz doesn’t mean to betray because his breath catches, and he does the asking for him.

“Can I hug ya, kid?”

Riz nods once, sharply, as soon as the words are in the air. Jawbone reaches out and gathers him up in his arms. Pressing him firmly, but gently, against his chest. Riz buries his face into his cardigan and allows himself a minute of foolishness.

He hiccups.

“I miss my dad, Jawbone. I wish he wasn’t dead.” His voice breaks on the last word, all he gets out is the ‘de’, and he leaves the rest to hang in the air with his sobs.

Jawbone’s hand comes up to rub lightly over his back. He doesn’t say anything, just allows Riz to cycle through his emotions.

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he’s gone and me and mom just have to deal with it.” Riz takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“Sometimes… I know it’s stupid and illogical, but sometimes I get mad at him. I get so furious with him. Because he’s not here. He didn’t do what he needed to do to be here for his son. And I know that’s wrong and he couldn’t help it and if he could choose to be here, he would, but it doesn’t stop the anger. I don’t like it. But I don’t know what to do with it because it’s not fixable. I can’t put it anywhere, so I just push it down and hope it goes away, eventually. It never goes away.”

Jawbone hums, and Riz can feel the vibration of it against his cheek. It reminds him of a cat purring, almost. If the cat smelled like dog.

“It’s okay to feel upset that your father was taken from you before you got the chance to know him. That’s not stupid or illogical. I’m sure he beats himself up about it just as much, if he’s anything like his son.”

Riz, despite himself, laughs.

“It’s nice getting to know him now.” He sniffs. “It’s just- I feel like I’m playing a game of catch-up every time we talk. Like I’m late to the race. Most kids know what their dads do for work before high school.”

“But it’s not a race, Riz.” Jawbone’s voice is low, but vehement. “No one is judging you for not knowing these things about your father, because you thought he was unreachable up until a year ago. The fact that you’re taking every opportunity to learn about him, that you spent so much time- even before you knew what he did for work- visiting his grave and updating him about your life, and still do, sometimes. It’s a testament to how much you love him. I think he knows that.”

The silence following those words stays for another minute or so before Riz huffs.

“But I don’t love him enough to bring him back, huh. There’s magic in any strong emotion, Kristin told me that, once. And I just started messing with magic stuff, but you would think that it wouldn’t be impossible. Not if the love was strong enough.”

Jawbone sighs, brings a hand to Riz’s hair and begins to card through it, almost absentmindedly. Riz freezes, then melts into it. It’s been so long since anybody played with his hair like this. His mom used to do it, when he was younger, but then the bills got higher, her shifts got longer. It fell to the bottom of the priorities list.

“You can’t do that to yourself, kid. You can’t. You think if Ms. Barkrock wanted it enough, was rageful enough, she coulda expelled the demon from her chest earlier?”

Riz shakes his head, slightly, afraid to dislodge jawbone’s hand. “Of course not. But that’s different-“

“Not really.” Jawbone cuts in, gently. “Point is, magic don’t work like that. Emotions are a factor, yes, but there’s so much else that goes into it. You love your dad so much, Riz, anyone can see that.”

Riz sniffles. “Thanks, Jawbone.”

Jawbone smiles where Riz can’t see, and ruffles his hair before allowing him to pull away.

“Anytime, kiddo.”

#short and sweet #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #just in case #riz gukgak #jawbone o'shaughnessey #dad feels #jawbone is a counselor and it shows #also just realized this but i he gives chocolate to riz like fucking #remus lupin #god ive stereotyped werewolves #im sorry werewolves #anyways riz is so The fucked up little guy #love him #character study #brublurbs #abuse of italics #fantasy high

[humming-fly]

every year for my birthday I do something self-indulgent and THIS year it's me finally organizing all the doodles and lore for my kirby oc Fayre that I have yet to put on tumblr into one place!

because i love you all putting the vast majority of this under a readmore but yeah if you want a collection of doodles and vaguely coherent scraps of info about my little guy please read on and if you want to ask questions about 'em go for it i love talking about these idiots

gonna also be mentioning a few other OC's here so for the record Strix belongs to @alagaesia-overlord and Stell belongs to @aseuki, because everyone knows it's more fun being insane about something if you have company~

real quick gonna just link to the past main posts on fayre for posterity lol

Fayre Details/Backstory:

So as has already been established in prior posts fayre is a very fae-aligned little critter that pretty exclusively hangs out in the woods with their 1-way mirror mask behaving for all intents of the word like some sort of weird cryptid. In terms of defining characteristics they have a set of very odd wings that constantly emit a stunning aura that causes confusion/distress when observed at close quarters, as well as a permanent 0.0 expression that they can't change (so no blinking, smiling, etc.) which is a byproduct of their creation as a mirror clone.

How all that worked out is their 'original', Prism, landed right next to a mirror portal as a newborn and more or less immediately wandered into it - my general headcanon about how the mirror doubles work is that they're made up of Every reflection someone has made up to the point they look into the amazing mirror, but since prism only just existed her first and only reflection was the 0.0 expression of a child looking through the mirror before passing through it, so fayre is locked and loaded with that expression but nothin' else. This is also why fayre's wings are way different than prism's bird-of-paradise setup, as technically prism's back was never reflected by the mirror either so it got the randomizer setting instead.

Despite being 'born' more or less at the same time the two never formally met until many years later, as prism wandered right into the mirror world and fayre wandered right out into the primary world and neither ever looked back. Differences aside, when prism did eventually track fayre down they immediately hit it off and now consider each other to be twin siblings. (Prior to meeting Prism Fayre didn't know they were a mirror clone, but largely took learning that detail in stride, as they do with most things)

In terms of early life fayre was actually found and raised by a small village of broom hatters, who came upon this child in a little crater they'd made after falling off the cloud holding up the mirror

The broom hatters assumed that fall was what had paralyzed their face, but fortunately as the broom hatters are a race of faceless creatures themselves the lack of expressions wasn't ever a problem. Not being able to move or open their mouth means fayre can't talk with it, but instead uses the general telepathic way of speaking used by most species lacking that particular facial feature. The main benefit of that skill is being able to throw their voice and also talk in hieroglyphics if desired

Fayre stayed with the broom hatters until reaching early adolescence, after which they left to go explore the natural world - though now living on their own they do still come back to say Hi every year or so during the Sweeping Seasons.

Fayre got their wings sometime while off living by themselves in the woods, and after some trial and error did figure out a way to more or less 'replace' their wings with a funky cape (the trial and error being a learning curve whereupon getting near people with their wings would cause people to get dizzy/sick, so for a while they were wandering around in a little cape they found until they could puzzle out a way to properly tuck them away) - while the cape is replacing the wings they're more or less 'in stasis', so damaging the cape doesn't damage the wings and vice versa, and is more of a strange pocket dimensional swap than anything. Thus the cape can't actually be removed from fayre, trying to rip it off them won't hurt or anything but will probably just yank them around a bit (maybe they're somehow trading their wings with an equivalent in the yarn dimension? who knows, they certainly don't)

The wings themselves are pretty odd as they look sort of like dragonfly wings but are actually made up of individual feathers of varying traits - general consensus is they are indeed very pretty, but other than gliding fayre can't actually fly that well with them. The stunning aura on them Does keep bugs and wildlife away though making them ideal for forest exploration, and fayre will wrap themselves up in them every night when going to bed as the wings work to deter any predators from going after them, and it's Comfy

~Plot Stuff Begins~

Meeting Strix:

For quite a while Prism was the only consistent point of contact Fayre had with anyone else, and even then the two only visited one another infrequently, both happy to largely keep to the homes and lives they've carved out for themselves.

The first major change to fayre's day to day life was the introduction of another puffball named Strix, who happened upon them while looking for their wayward coworker

After conversing a bit it was discovered that Strix is actually employed as a Reaper, of the paper-pushing variety, and only tends to poke their head out of purgatory when hunting down their work-shirking coworker.

Said work-shirking coworker is also the reason strix is the only person fayre has met that isn't affected by their wing's wonky aura - spending a few centuries in close quarters with someone who puts out a very similar status effect tends to build up an immunity, which fayre tries their best to take full advantage of

Fayre and Strix managed to hit it off early on, and occasionally meet up every month or so for an hour or two to get their required socializations in before wandering back off from whence they came. Strix will often share their work bereavements, or encourage fayre to actually learn some self-defense, which is largely met with playful ambivalence, though despite fayre's general disinterest in combat some minor progress was made on strix's part

(To that end farther the line a more favorable and not at all ominous deal was struck between the two so time will tell how that pans out)

During one of these chats strix also shared some of their Tragic Backstory:tm:, which fayre empathized with in the only way they know how

These friendly meetings continued with regularity for some odd years, up until fayre accidentally rode-along on one of strix's business calls~

Meeting Stell (aka The 'Among-Us' Arc):

Unfortunately for Fayre, Strix had been called to investigate what was reported to be an erroneous wish caused by a faulty comet, one without its proper safety regulations in place. Fayre tumbled on through strix's portal and into the sidelines of an ongoing fight between strix and some new armored fighter apparently affiliated with said comet.

Hoping to avoid whatever anime-ass conflict was going on over there, fayre started drifting towards the only other point in space of any note, the giant cat-like mechanical comet. Unfortunately for fayre, whoever had maintained that comet had rigged it up with a series of perimeter defenses, which fayre became intimately familiar with as they were shot down and forced to land on the comet itself to escape the bullet-hell firing at them.

Suffering some fun knicks and scrapes predominantly on their wings fayre pushed that on the back burner with their cape and started to look for an exit from this weird mechanical death trap. (Past this point Fayre has a quasi-permanent notch in their left feather).

Thus began fayre's fun-filled two-ish weeks of impromptu among us where they had a jolly time hiding in the vents and cutting wires to stall the maniac doing their level best to eject them with lethal force

Eventually contact was made with the assailant, whose name was apparently Stell, and an agreement was brokered just as Strix finally decided to stop by again to see how fixing that busted-ass comet was going.

after that misunderstanding was cleared up Fayre finally got off that shitty comet and after being dropped off in the woods by strix managed to trudge all the way to the mirror dimension to visit prism and get some bandaids (slash bullet holes patched up)

Mirror Arc & Beyond:

Some additional fun is had with the twins in the mirror dimension, namely the whole kitten kaboodle becoming corrupted for a time and fayre becoming a bit of an asshole because of it, which predominantly ended up aimed at strix who popped by to help sort all that out

post-corruption fayre found out apparently strix took the verbal abuse personally and fixed that all right up in their own way by visiting them at their workplace

tragically for fayre's happy-go-lucky attitude they've come to be attached to strix, which only became obvious once strix relayed a recent near-death experience to them and they got to experience their first ever Bummer Emotion

making that extra fun was learning said near-death experience was caused by their good friend Stell, which in turn lead to fayre's first ever Catching Hands Emotion

fayre's emotional roller coaster topped out after more or less jumping stell in a convenience store and trying to forcibly shove their own negative emotions down his throat after he brushed off the encounter he'd had with strix (partially due to running a high fever but that sure wasn't fayre's problem) - since then they've leveled back out and are back to being the most emotionally well-balanced of the three, which is a low bar to clear but hey first place is still first place~

#why yes this Is a birthday gift to myself #internet backups are important and also fun to find down the line hahaha #anyways hope you all enjoy my Special Little Guy #also tw for flashing image way at the bottom of this massive post #long post #like for real it's a Long post i used the full 30 images #fayre #kirby oc #ahh #my art #doodles

[wisteria-cherry]

forty days and forty nights (day twenty-five!)

“welcome!” you chime.

“fake-ass customer service voice.” bakugo snorted.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know what you mean, sir,” you chirp, trying to hide your snickering. “what would you like today?”

“hot caramel latte with skim instead of whole. extra froth made with half-and-half instead of milk, and add hazelnut syrup, and those weird-ass chocolate shavings,” bakugo began to rattle off an annoyingly long order. this continued until you finally relented.

“okay, okay!” you laugh. “can i suggest a medium black coffee instead?”

“can’t believe people actually drink that shit.” bakugo grunted, immediately reverting to his regular self. “too much damn sugar.”

“and black coffee’s way too bitter. it cancels out.” you shrug as he swipes his card.

“you work at a coffee shop and you don’t like coffee?” bakugo raised an eyebrow. “the fuck’s up with you?”

“i do like coffee.” you correct. “just with stuff in it. besides, not everyone feels the need to have the body of a greek god at all given times, so they can afford to have some sugar once in awhile.”

“i don’t ‘feel the need’ to maintain my damn physique and have a healthy lifestyle, brat.” bakugo grunted as he sat down. “it’s called being a hero. gotta stay in shape.”

“wasn’t there that one hero though—“ your face scrunched up as you tried to think of his name. “fat gum?”

“that’s different, that was part of his quirk.” bakugo scoffed. “shitty hair interned with him during ua.”

“did he really? that’s so cool!” you marvel. “did you do an internship?”

“yeah, with icyhot’s old man.”

“and his dad is endeavor, right?”

“yeah.”

“how was it? did you do it with anyone else?”

“one question at a time, geez!” bakugo barked. “it was fine, i did it with deku and icyhot.”

“deku and shoto? but i thought you hate deku.”

“i do.” bakugo grumbled. “but there’s no way in hell i’d let him prevent me from interning with the strongest hero i could.”

“well, i’m sure shoto enjoyed it. i bet it was fun doing the internship with his dad.” you smile.

“he didn’t. he hates his old man.” he replied nonchalantly as he sipped at his coffee.

“he does?” you blink. “why?” bakugo shrugged.

“i don’t fuckin’ know. s’not my business anyway.”

“oh.” you fell quiet before deciding to change the subject. “how’s hiro today?”

“‘s’fine.” bakugo raised his eyebrows at your expression as you stared at him, clearly implying that you want him to elaborate. “…he did a patrol today. beat a villain.” you smile. that’s what you were hoping to hear.

“tell me about it.” bakugo only shrugged.

“nothin’ to tell. he encountered a villain, did his thing and beat ‘im.”

“what’s ‘his thing’?” you ask curiously.

“he’s got a pattern to his fights.” bakugo took a big gulp of his coffee. “he dodges for a bit. he uses the time to let people evacuate in case he wrecks something while fighting and to track down the villain’s weakness. then he exploits it. that’s it.”

“that’s incredible.”

“duh. there’s a reason he works f’r’me.” bakugo rolled his eyes.

“you’ve got high standards, then.” you smile.

“no shit.” bakugo snorted.

“do the high standards apply to your love life, too?” you joke.

“you wish.” he scoffed.

“do you even have a love life?” you squint teasingly.

“obviously!” snapped bakugo. you hold up your hands in surrender. bakugo checked his watch. “i gotta run.” he set his finished coffee down and stood up, rolling his shoulders as he stretched, showing off the aforementioned god-like physique. he began to leave.

“hey, wait, bakugo!” you call. he turned, and you grin. “you got a special someone?”

“you wish.” bakugo smirked and left. you froze. that smirk was different than all the other ones. it was more cocky. it was more toothy.

it was hot, and it was official: you like bakugo.

“do you even have a love life?”

(feel free to comment + leave ur thoughts :)

(he lied he does not have a love life)

@k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity @stevenknightmarc @failingstudents-blog @jazzafaye5294

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader #pro hero dynamight #pro hero bakugo

[catpop2]

So uh... Earthspark Au idea

So you know how occasionally Starscream and Bumblebee somehow get paired together and goofy shenanigans insue? Like in IDW for example- Well take that but add some more shit to it- Like a lot more hand wavy magic shit to it.

Anyways spoilers for Earthspark Season 1, the whole thing. And also uh brain fart moment right here so its very rambly but I wanna try and get the main point across. I will elaborate it people are intrested tho.

Well I had a goofy au idea brainfart moment where after the events of season 1, the autobots and decepticons have to somewhat colaborate which each other to survive on earth. From finnaly freeing every captured Decepticon in the form of a transaction to get Starscream and his remaining seekers do an extended sweep over the entire earth in order to comfirm Dr Meridians death because oh boy his body mysteriously disapeared (And because Seekers aint called seekers for nothin, they hella good at tracking down anything that exists)

Other scheningans insue because Megatron wants to reconnect with his Decepticons and beocme friends with everyone- But like none of them are really having it, in fact the main motivator for any con is that they want to protect their new generation, the terrans, therefore they wont try and obliterate the autobots at every moment. This is specifically true for Starscream who literally cant exist in the same room as Megatron but gets absolutely swarmed by terrans the moment he is near them, most notoriously Hashtag and Twitch but mostly Hashtag.

And then there is Bumblebee, the mentor of the maltobots who will do anything to keep them safe- But not much can be done when your protégés are pestering the most dangerous Decepticon to ever Decepticon (Aside from Megs but he dont count anymore) So he has to just sit there and tolerate it-

Eventually though trouble arises once more and the maltobots have to fight for the freedom of their kind, now joined not only by the autobots but occasionally even a Decepticon or two whenever their expertise come into play, but the cons aren't doing it for the Autobots thats for sure.

Bumblebee is always with the terrans whenever he can be, but the five are more grown as each day passes, and far harder to keep an eye on, especially since the concept of war has been properly introduced to them. So when Starscream is there to provide intelligence or sneak stolen gadgets to Hashtag and Nightshade, Bee has to appreciate the weight the seeker unintentionally takes off his back. Afterall Starscream may be extremely dangerous, cunning and deceitful- But it certainly does wonders for him to be near sparklings.

Where the au comes into real play is when the threat of Dr Meridian resurfaces much to everyones dismay (Like pee paw willy over again).

The terrans and the kids are locked in tight combat, trapped in a very dangeorus and likley fatal situation of which they havent quite grasped the severity of. This time they dont seem to have the grace of Quintus Prime at their side as things look really grim, their only proper cybertronian assitance comes in the form of Bumblebee and Starscream who are forced to hold off the threat together the best they can before help can arrive. While the terrans do a great job of fighting alongside them as they have proved themselves plenty of times- It doesn't seem to be enough. All of them are left tattered, injuried and worse for wear- Particularly their two cybertronian gaurdians who had just taken on a fatal blow to protect them.

Quintus Prime, unlike the Maltos thought before, was with them, he watched them. He hoped, but there was little he could do, it was not like before...

But... There was a call, a plee. A promise of service. Not from the humans or the terrans. No...

Something else entirely- A presence akin to Primus itself- A spark, reaching out to him. Promising to protect.

Ah yes. The cybertronians. One of them had not yet given up yet, despite the fact he no long had functional limbs nor wings- It was present, nearby somewhere was also another presence, but so much weaker, so fragile and quickly fading.

No.. That couldn't work could it? They were already established sparks, born from the allspark directly-

Perhaps that could work.. Perhaps the Emberstone had a little extra light to give.

And so, from the rubble- Right as the enemy intends to strike another blow, two new protectors rise- And two new presences began to circulate between the thoughts and feelings of the Maltos.

#earthspark #transformers #transformers earthspark #tfe #earthspark starscream #starscream #earthspark bumblebee #bumblebee #earthspark hashtag #earthspark twitch #earthspark megatron #earthspark mandroid #earthspark nightshade #maltobots #terrans #earthspark spoilers #transformers au #quintus prime #Quintus just wants his skrunkly earth children to survive and if they keep putting themselves in dangerous situations he will help #Starscream and Bumblebee are funky duo #they are like bikering cousins that only get along at family gatherings to annoy their respective older siblings #BeeNScreamAu

[tangerinesgf]

Missed you

Tangerine x GN!reader

Summary: you're having a though day, Tangerine helps you through it.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Depression, some fluff, Tangerine is the best bf (think that's about it)

Disclaimer: English is not my first language and its not proofread so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: You ever have those moments where you can't stop thinking about Tangerine? Well I guess that's how this thing came to exist. Also I needed to vent.

Before you and Tangerine started dating, you'd told him about your depression. Clinical depression to be more specific.

In the time you and Tangerine spend together you had fallen head over heals for him. His looks were partially the reason for that, obviously, but what really drew you in was everything else about him. The way he acted, talked, moved. They way he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on.

The fact that beneath that ruthless contract killer was this soft guy who loved cuddling and head rubs. Although he'd never admit that out loud.

Being with Tangerine was the happiest you had been in a long time.

You felt the dread building up in your stomach when you had to tell him, expecting him to leave afterwards. Most people found a partner with depression too much work and not worth the trouble.

Not Tangerine though.

He'd been on your side the minute you told him, telling you he could never leave you.

"There's nothin' you could say that would make me leave you, darlin'"

A wave of relief had rushed over you, tears starting to well up in your eyes resulting into Tangerine pulling you into his arms.

Ever since that moment you'd been there for every up and down, never once leaving each others side.

This week had been harder for you than others. Not for any specific reason that you could explain unfortunatly. That was the part you hated the most. The 'being sad or angry for no particular reason'.

Your therapist had said that it was normal in your situation, that it wasn't just you being lazy or dramatic.

You hadn't really come out of bed the entire week except for food or to use the bathroom.

Normally Tangerine would have quite literally dragged you out of your bed even if it was to the living room just for a change of scenery. He'd cook your favorite food, while you sat and watched him.

Unfortunately Tangerine was on a job this week, so there's was none of that. He'd told you repeatedly that you could always call him even if he was on a job, but you still felt like you would be disturbing him.

You were watching some show you lost track of hours ago when you heard the front door opening, followed by a pair of footsteps entering the apartment.

You heard him walk around for a while before there was a nock on your door.

"Luv? It's me, are you in there?" Tangerine's soft voice spoke from the other side of the door. Gosh, you had missed him so much.

"Yeah, you can come in" you answered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Tangerine opened the door leaning into the doorframe.

"Hey" he said softly.

You could see his eyes darting around the room taking it in. Not having had the energy to clean this week ut had become quite the mess.

"Hi" you gave him a soft smile.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you in which Tangerine came to understand that it had been on of those weeks and he hadn't been there for you.

He pushed himself from the doorframe and slowly walked over to where you were sitting on your bed.

"You know you could've called me, right?" He almost whispered as he moved a strand of hair out of face and placed it behind you ear. Your eyes never losing contact with one another.

"I know." Was all you said.

Another beat of silence before Tangerine spoke up again.

"You wanna talk 'bout it?"

"Not really."

All you wanted to do right now was just being with him.

"Want me to leave you alone?"

He figured getting you out of bed could wait until tomorrow, after all he didn't really have the energy for it right now either.

"No!" You said almost immediately, the slight raise of your voice taking both of you by surprise.

"I mean.. please stay."

Tangerine's eyes softened and he pulled you into his lap to hold you in that same way he had done almost a year ago now. Your head rested on his shoulder as he stared to draw soothing circles on your lower back.

You drew back from his embrace so you could meet his eyes.

"I missed you"

Tangerine leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead after which he pulled you into his chest again.

"Missed you too, darlin'" he said just above a whisper. "You're gonna be alright."

His hand started to caress through your hair as you drew him impossibly closer to you.

"You're gonna be alright."

A/N: this is my first time finishing/ posting any sort of reader fanfic and I wrote this in like an hour so any feedback is always appreciated. <3

Taglist: @avocado-writing @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @waiting4ff (just tagged sm people I thought would be interested)

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train 2022 #bullet train #tangerine

[testingthewatersss]

2 weeks Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 1 3850 words angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI  After the downfall of HYDRA it takes 2 weeks for you to find him. Somehow, it seems like far too long.

It doesn’t take her long to find him, not really.

It takes 2 weeks, and 4 burner phones, 1 hacked computer, and 15 hours on a plane- all in all, Y/N thinks, tracking the infamous Winter Solider definitely, could have been worse.

She hopes the way that she’s managed to locate him so swiftly is because of the time they’d shared in captivity, she hopes, it’s because he remembers her, that he remembers the conversations they shared about dreams, about friends and the importance of being able to find each other someday.

He must remember some of it, she decides, still padding across the dimly lit ally way that leads to the half-derelict apartment block where she hopes to end her journey- he must do, because he did what she’d asked of him, he’d finished his mission to save Steve Rodgers, and then, he’d vanished.

Her eyes run over the dark brick building before her. It’s early evening, the sun is already half set, and misty white clouds have woven a lace across the violet sky above her head. She can see her breath fanning out in front of her face as she breathes, debating whether or not to announce her arrival.

She’s not the only person searching for him. Her brother is trying, too, and that means at least one other avenger won’t be far behind.

Captain America isn’t the kind of companion she needs right now, even though she thinks he must be a good man, for both Bucky and Natasha to hold such a fondness for him, even her brother loves him deep down- but he’s dangerous, he’s linked too heavily to HYDRA, to missions and wipes and everything else that the man she’s tailing fears, to be anything other than a hindrance.

Luckily, their efforts have been somewhat slack. She’d disrupted the drones they’d sent out when she’d noticed it getting a little too close, she’d blocked all attempts they’d made at sharing his picture around various underground networks, and eventually, they’d picked up on a false lead, half a world away.

It’s for the best they follow it, for now, even if it does make her feel a little guilty.

She’ll call them, later, when everything is a little less raw.

“Here goes nothin’” she murmurs quietly, breath puffing out against the cracked, wooden door.

Gloved hands press forward against the surface, and she’s only mildly surprised when it swings open, a chip of blue acrylic sticking to the leather coating her knuckles.

Smart, she thinks, nobody bothers checking places that they can just walk into.

That’s very him- well thought out, tactical, if a little rushed.

Her boots crack gravel under their soles as she continues to pace across the dirt coated floorboards.

The stairs creak under her weight when she finally reaches them, and she can’t help but smile, when she doesn’t hear any movement in response.

Built in alarm system, too she thinks, very nice, Barnes.

Finally, something catches her eye- There’s a door to one of the suites, that looks almost identical to all of the others she’s passed by, except this one, has a metal handle that isn’t drowning in cobwebs. It’s not shining, or polished, but it’s used.

She holds her breath as she touches it. It’s cold, even through her gloves she can feel the iciness of it against her palm.

“Alright” she whispers, to herself as opposed to anyone who might have been listening, “here we go—”

This one has the chain on, she can feel it the second she starts to turn the handle.

She stops, not wanting to spook him, anymore than he already would be.

Her fingers fiddle inside her pocket, clumsy from the cold, from the gloves she’s still wearing.

It takes her a moment to find the tool she needs, but once she has it, she moves quickly, slipping it into the upper corner of the frame, slicing through the delicate metal with its sharp vibranium blade.

The door swings open, then. It barely takes a tap, for it to tap against the inside wall, and bounce back with a muted whine.

She enters carefully, eyes assessing the dirty interior as she shuts herself inside.

He’s in the bathroom. She knows, he is.

The kitchen is the front room. It’s open plan and broken- the stove has an old, gas fulled camping burner positioned on top of it, with a pan balancing precariously by it’s side.

An open, and empty can is there too, lingering next to the sink.

There is a quiet dripping sound coming from the faucet, and as she looks at it, she notices the way that she can see dust in the air, even though there aren’t any lights on in the space.

That’s how she finds him- the windows.

It’s high, here, they must be 7 flights up, and there isn’t a fire escape- the glass that she can see from the door is barred, but, there is a soft, white glow coming from the one other door in the apartment. It’s only open a crack, and it’s not artificial.

Judging by the building, by the decor, floorpan and general neglect of the place, she knows it’s old. She guesses it’s late 50’s, early 60’s, probably had a restoration at some point in the 90’s if the kitchen tiles are anything to go by, but either way, that all suggests there’ll be a window in the bathroom, not a fan.

It’ll be small, she thinks, too small to realistically fit through, but still, it’ll offer the possibility of escape, just like it offers light.

That’s definitely where he’s hiding.

As she comes up to it’s entrance, she pauses, eyes dropping to the floor. There is carpet, now, it’s filthy, so filthy that she can barely make out the awful floral pattern that it’s printed with.

It’s nicer than the wood of the hallway outside, though, and it’s an improvement from the cracked, discoloured slates in the kitchen.

Her hand finds the door, she lets it linger there for a second, feeling it, as though it might start to warm up under her touch.

It doesn’t.

It swings openly silently, she keeps hold of it, this time though, to not let it startle him by hitting the inner wall.

There’s a knife by her throat in seconds.

She raises her hands, and smiles a little.

“Who sent you?” he gristles, voice hot in her ear.

“Nobody” she replies honestly, “I’m a friend, remember?”

“You’ve got the wrong person” he tells her after a pause, “You should go”

Y/N can’t help but shake her head, despite the way the blade is still smooth against her throat.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere” she murmurs, “put the knife down?”

He ignores her request, she thinks she can hear him panting.

“Listen,” he tries to growl, “I’m not who you’re lookin’ for-”

“I know exactly who you are” she tells him, own tone deliberately calm, “You’re-”

“no-one” he whispers, throat suddenly tight again, “‘m- ‘m nobody”

“You’re Sergeant James Buchannon, Barnes” she whispers, feeling the pressure against her neck lessen, “but, you told me to call you Bucky, because I’m-”

“my friend.” he finishes, like he’s remembering for the first time, like he’s finishing the lyrics to something that used to be his favourite song.

Silence sits in the air for a few seconds then, as the pair both just breathe.

The knife retracts, but she stays still, arms still raised in surrender.

“Y/N?” she hears him murmur, like he’s not 100% sure he’s allowed to be speaking, “-’s, ’s that you?”

Her head nods as she starts to turn, slow, on her heals to face him.

His eyes are wide, and searching her face frantically-

“Y/N?” he asks, voice still terribly unsure, “You’re… You’re here?”

The blade he’s been clutching falls to the floor between them, it bounces against the mould-ridden linoleum and lands by the toe of her boot.

She nudges it absentmindedly, as she lets him stare at her with a disturbing amount of intensity.

“Yeah” he hears her whisper, “It’s me, sweetheart- I told you I was gonna’ find ya’, do ya remember?”

The man blinks, his hair is long, it’s matted and wild. He doesn’t seem to notice the way it’s hanging by his eyes, not even as he nods.

Y/N beams at him, she hates the way he looks so cornered.

Her heart physically aches when she notices the way tears are filling his eyes.

They’re already bloodshot, and his pupils are so huge they’re more black than blue.

He looks terrified, she decides, he looks worse than she’d ever seen him with HYDRA, even though the only injuries he seems to have are the grazes on his flesh knuckles, and the small gaze on top of his cheek.

“I-” he says quietly, “I- thought you were a dream”

She tilts her head at his confession, at the way he’s dropped his gaze to the ground.

“I-I don’t- I don’t know what’s- what’s real and- and what-what’s not”

His face screws up a little, his head shakes as he metal arm groans with tension.

“That’s okay-” she soothes, staying still, even as he takes an unsteady step towards her, “-I’m real, I promise, and I’ll help ya’ figure out the rest”

His arm extends out, like he’s reaching for her hand, but suddenly he flinches like he’s been burned, even though he hasn’t come close to touching her.

He looks unsteady, he recoils, and backs away in a panic, until he crashes into the sink, metal shoulder smashing the mirror that’s hanging above it.

The noise startles him. He freezes like an animal in a trap, and then, he falls to the floor.

He drops to his knees, surrounded by shrapnel, by shards of broken glass, and dirt-

She watches him cut his palm on a jagged chunk of crystal as he tries to scramble back into the wall.

Blood pools in his palm, it drips down his wrist and mares the floor as he pulls his legs up, so he can bury his face in his thighs.

Y/N moves slowly, she scans the room and sees an old, stained rag hanging on a towel rack by the shower.

She grabs it, finding the cleanest area of it to use, before she moves over to him.

Her approach is careful, it’s announced by the crunch of glass under her boots, and by the way she sighs when she crouches beside him.

“It’s alright” she murmurs, being very careful not to touch him, “Bucky, I-”

Fingers, both metal and flesh tangle in his hair, she hears the way the joints whine, as he starts to tug at the lengths, rocking a little on his heels in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Y/N sighs, seeing blood soaking into his scalp- it’s smudged down his wrist, it’s staining the grey of the hoody he’s wearing, she shakes her head unhappily.

“Look at me?” she requests, “Please?”

He moves with inhuman swiftness. A chunk of hair catches in his fist, and she grimaces as comes away in his gasp, but he seems not to notice.

Blue eyes are staring at her, before she manages to take her next breath.

“Thank you” she says, trying to calm him with her tone of voice, “It’s just me, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The cowering man doesn’t respond, she doesn’t even think he’s blinking.

It makes her nervous, he doesn’t look right, he looks more like a cornered stray than a person, and she can’t help but feel awfully sorry that she took so long to find him.

“I-” he whispers at last, “-I-I don’t know your real- I- this might be a trick-a - a trap”

She tilts her head, confused by his urgent mumbling.

He’s less coherent now, he’s slipping between english and russian like it’s not something he can control.

The sentiment of his words isn’t changing, though, he’s worried that she isn’t real, he’s worried she’s some kind of decoy, or delusion- something that’s going to either vanish, or hurt him somehow.

Minutes pass, and Y/N is still and patient. She waits for him to grow quiet again, for him to go back to watching her in silence.

“Did they do that, before?” she asks, “Make you see things that weren’t there?”

Her question jars him. His brow furrows, and he goes back to muttering things she can’t decipher, before eventually he nods, scared but honest, in reply.

She hums, and pushes some dirt out of the way so that she can sit back on her knees.

“Alright” he hears her whisper, “That’s alright, Bucky”

He thinks she sounds calm. She’s not screaming at him, she’s not barking commands or trying to escape.

That doesn’t seem right. Whenever it’s quiet he hears the shouting, but now, all he can hear is her, the way she’s breathing, the way that she’s waiting for him to look at her again.

“Those things they made you see” she continues softly, “did they ever touch you?”

He squints, deciding wether or not to admit anything more.

He trusts her, he decides, even if he shouldn’t, even if he doesn’t totally know why. She’s his friend, she’s always been his friend.

Doubt stabs at his chest, making his swallow hard- maybe they found out, maybe this is all a dream they’ve put him in, to worsen his punishment for running, maybe this isn’t Y/N, maybe he’s not himself, maybe- maybe he’s already back in the chair.

“Hey” Y/N soothes, seeing the way the man has started panting, air leaving his chest in visible bursts. “It’s only me, remember, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“They never touched me” he says, voice quiet, “They’d disappear and-and then- and then they’d hurt me, for believin’ it-.”

A piece of her heart shatters at that development, at the knowledge they tortured him so cruelly.

“Can I see your hand?” she asks, seeing the way the blood from his wound is drying, “Let me clean you up.”

If she touches me, I’ll know she’s real- that all of this is real, that I’m not there, anymore, Bucky considers, teeth tugging at his lower lip, or, she’ll disappear, and this whole reality will crumble, and I’ll be back there, I’ll be back there and they’ll do those things, again.

She can see the way he’s fighting himself in his head. The struggle is plain on his face, and she’s not totally sure of what way it’s going to go, he seems torn between offering his palm, and clutching it tighter to his chest and curling up into a ball on the floor.

“Do you remember what I told you back when we first met?” Y/N asks, she’s unsurprised when he stays silent, when all he does is stare at her with wide eyes, “Friends don’t hurt friends.”

He remembers.

He shuts his eyes, he buries his face back into his knees, and he very slowly, moves his flesh arm out, and over, so that she can reach his injured palm.

She beams proudly, she can’t explain how flattered she is by the faith he’s putting in her, in the way he’s being so brave, when he’s clearly so frightened.

“Thank you”

His jaw is locked tight, he really is expecting to wake up in agony the minute her skin meets his, but instead, he hears something, the softest thud as her gloves are discarded and abandoned on the floor beside them, and then he feels her fingers, warm and gentle as they prise his hand apart.

She’s real, he realises, She’s real, it, it all is.

Something awfully close to hope swells in his chest, it bites back against the sheer, overwhelming panic that has made a home there whilst he’s been on the run.

“You’re cold” Y/N notes, dabbing away at the liquid sticking to the edges of his wound, it’s healing already, she knows it won’t take long for the semi-deep cut to be nothing more than a scratch, but he hasn’t withdrawn from her, and he seems to be breathing a little more steadily now that he’s able to feel her, to feel that she’s flesh and bone like him, that she’s real and not a figment of his imagination, “couldn’t get a fire goin?”

“I didn’t try” he confesses, feeling like a disappointment, “I-I don’t need one”

She hushes him kindly, murmuring something about that being alright, the sound of her assurances are awfully familiar, it makes tears swell in his eyes when he realises how nice they are to hear.

“Bucky” He hears her call, voice a little louder than it had been before, “Do you want a hug?”

His eyes widen impossibly. She sees something traumatised flash behind them, something beaten and caged and broken.

Y/N prepares herself for rejection, but then suddenly, he glances around the otherwise empty space, surveying it one last time before he nods, the smallest, shyest nod, she thinks she’s ever seen.

She lets his hand go, and opens her arms in invitation.

A quiet “be careful, sweetheart” is all she can manage to say before he moves over, tentatively shifting into her embrace.

“‘m sorry” he croaks into her shoulder, “‘m-‘msorry bout the knife-I-I don’t want to hurt you-” he repeats, as he feels her holding him in place.

Y/N shakes her head, she closes her eyes and lets her cheek graze his hair, even though it’s now flakey with old blood.

“It’s alright” she’s quick to tell him, “I know you don’t”

His breathing is audibly laboured, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s had someone this close to him in a non violent way.

People only touch me, to hurt me, he thinks sadly, remembering kicks, and slaps, and fights.

Panic gnawers at his nerves when he considers how likely it is that he’ll have to pay for this moment of tenderness.

There’s always a price, he reminds to himself, You don’t get things like this for free.

Y/N knows he’s clutching onto her jacket, she can feel metal fingers tearing at the denim, and it’s all she can do not to cry.

“Oh, Buck” she murmurs, breath hot in his hair, “how long has it been since anyone’s just, held ya’, huh?”

He doesn’t know, so he doesn’t answer. Since he’s going to be punished for actually escaping, he doesn’t think adding insolence to the list of his transgressions is likely to make much of a difference, considering how big of a penalty he’s probably already earned for himself.

Y/N hears him whimper, it’s the softest, slightest sound, but she catches it, and draws him in impossibly closer to her front.

“We’ve gotta warm ya’ up” she comments next, the fabric of his hoodie is frosty, and the skin of his face is cold, even through the barrier of her top, “you’ll catch your death”

She knows he doesn’t get sick, but the turn of phrase seemed like something he might have heard before, like something he might relate to care, to affection other than instruction.

He doesn’t want to move. He doesn’t remember ever being warm. The heat from her body is heavenly, though- it’s drawing him in, it’s sapping the tension from his exhausted muscles, it’s even making the pounding of his head seem lighter.

Or maybe that’s the way she’s started to rub a small circle over the fresh scar that is still stinging on the base of his neck.

The gash is raised, it’s pink and angry underneath the coils of his hair.

He’d given it to himself, weeks ago, in a hotel room in Budapest, when he’d taken a dull switch-blade and carved out the tracker that had been inserted there nearly a century ago.

It’s been hurting him ever since, but pain is familiar, it’s something he can handle, it’s not something he has a say in-

It’s bothering him less, now, he realises, her thumb is warm and gentle, and she’s soothing the irritated skin by stroking it, by drawing lines across it, as though it doesn’t revolt her.

“We should make a fire, if we’re stayin’ here” her voice soothes, next, “and see if we can get some blankets from somewhere.”

“We” Bucky repeats, the word muffled by her body, “you-you’re not leaving?”

Y/N shakes her head, silent as she lets him absorb the information.

Even though he’s heard her, it still doesn’t seem real. He’s confused, he wants to pull back and look at her face, to try and search it for any sign of dishonesty, he wants to ask her why on earth she’d want to spend even a second more of her time with him, when she could be doing literally anything, else, but more than any of that, all Bucky wants, is to believe her. Is it finally not be on his own any more.

“I don’t understand” he whispers honestly, “why would you stay with me?”

“Because I care about you” Y/N answers, tone as soft as velvet, “I’ve told you that before, do you remember?”

His eyes sting, again. He does remember, but, half of him had thought that had all been a dream, that the beautiful women who cared for him when he was injured or coming round from a wipe had been a hallucination brought on by the grim nature of his reality, or by the drugs in his system, or maybe a mixture of the two.

She feels pretty real now though, with her arms around his back, with his face in her neck.

For the first time in a long time, Bucky can’t help but think that he’s lucky to have lived through everything he has.

“I never forgot you” he murmurs, “I-I sometimes thought I dreamt ya’ up, but- I- I’ve always cared about you too”

Y/N hushes him again, she nuzzles at his hair and relishes in the way he shivers against her, body finally surrendering to the temperature, to it’s need to be touched in a non-terrible way.

“‘m not a dream” she swears, “none of this is, Bucky- we’re never goin’ back okay? Nobody is ever gonna’ hurt you again”

He doesn’t reply, he doesn’t think the right words exist to express what he’s feeling, anyway.

Hope and despair, fear and longing, guilt and affection are all swirling around his head at once, making him dizzy, making him vulnerable, and it’s all he can do not to sob.

“This is a good spot” Y/N notes, “We should stay the night- head to a safe house tomorrow”

“Safe house?” he echos, uncertain.

She just nods, smoothing down his back.

“We’ll need that fire tonight, sweetheart” she tells him, “’s only gonna’ get colder-“

“I can do that” he swears, eager to please her, “I’ll make us a fire, doll”

Her grin splits her face at the use of the nickname.

Bucky decides instantly that even though it had been an accidental slip of the tongue, that he’s going to call her that more often.

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#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BB3days

[spotsupstuff]

Hello! I come to ur inbox once again, but with a question.

This has been on my mind for like months and my brain won’t shut and I need a second brain to tell me I’m stupid XD

Do you think ALL the Ancients just… left off the face of the earth. Never to be seen again, or could there be at least that 1% that decided to stay? Of course there was the religious thing that most of them followed and the fact they were stuck on the dang soil of the earth until they went into the void sea.

But it couldn’t be all of them… right?? Or am I just stupid. I’m not so leaned in on Ancient lore, so I’m kinda blind in the mind when it comes to them.

I’m sorry for the paragraph I go back into shadows now(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

hey man! don't call urself stupid, nasty talk about yourself is banned, at least in my inbox. we r nice to ourselves in This house. not even as a joke, else i'm taking out the rolled up newspaper 🗞️👁️👁️

my personal theory is that yes! everyone is pretty much just Gone. main reason why i think that is is cuz it's strange to me that the Iterators wouldn't try n do Something about having some Ancients still around. like deals n treaties when it comes to benefits of them/their systems, especially the comm ones, getting fixed up

there is, of course, also the theory that some Ancients Did survive n proceeded to evolve into the scavengers. it's a fun theory, especially when taken into account Moon's n Pebbles' relationships with both species (Pebs adorin the Ancients n then sendin Arti @ the Scavs), but idk. i personally don't vibe with it much n with my designs it wouldn't make much sense too

what i personally imagine has happened was a systematic manipulation of the society to get All the Ancients into enclosed spaces (-wink wink nudge- it's not "Retaining" walls for nothin -wink-) + slow deconstruction of the lower circles by replacing the farmer duties by machines n therefore forcing the weak to die (n reincarnate into the Iterator cities or as different species which would no longer make it the Ancients' ""problem"") or just move up there out of basic need. this goes on for a while, void baths r happening while the watch over the population falling to the second Sin becomes more strict n so the population starts to slowly shrink while reliably concentrated on top of the Itties

flashforward to some time before the MA, to the time of my sillies Preacher n I.T., lower circle is completely gone, the rules r getting more n more strict. some people start to try n figure out how to rebel against it, like the two aforementioned sillies. they gather, they plan, all the while the government makes the Iterators' overseers look for them n possibly spy. that ends up being a sort of "decoy enemy" for the rebels, cuz turns out the religious nutcases have the whole population under tracking control via chips (it fits aight, the shrinking + concentration in one place stuff). n so even those who would have stayed r found n forced to get dissolved in the Void ✨👍

hurts like a motherfucker n then yoink Echo time

#spot says stuff #rw #the lesson of this is to never underestimate how utterly fucked government people can be #also hey. everybody is kinda blind with the Ancient lore cuz there ain't That much to see. basically everything is based off of- #-personal perceptions n ideas or just straight up question marks #but this 'retaining the population within the Iterator walls' is a pretty solid thing cuz of the karma gates n their requirements

[blackwidownat2814]

Lift Me Up (J.Seresin)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader, Jake Seresin x GN!reader

Word Count: 1294

A/N: There was no prompt or request to make me write this. I wrote it to help a friend. They recently lost someone very near and dear to their heart, and I hated that I couldn't be there to help them grieve. So I decided to do the next best thing. I wrote about our favorite naval aviator helping them through this horrible time. I've never written a gender neutral reader before, so I consulted with a couple people to make sure I did it properly. Thank you so much @jobean12-blog and @nuggetynoodle!!

TW: death of a loved one, dealing with grief, angst, a little fluff (because our beloved Jake tries to lift our spirits)...

‼️⚠️I do not give permission for any of my work to be copied, translated or reposted anywhere else but on my own blog and AO3.⚠️‼️

This is for you, my dearest @buckysdollforlife.

Masterlist

You blinked yourself awake that morning, not immediately remembering what you had to do later.  When the memory hit you, you almost physically recoiled, the sadness hit you like a punch to the gut.  The emptiness in your chest was like nothing you’d felt up until this point.

He must’ve sensed you were awake, because you felt his arm tighten around your waist as you were assaulted by the memory of the last couple of weeks.  You were so grateful to be able to lean on him during this entire thing.

“How are you feeling, darlin’?”

“Is this a nightmare, Jake?” you asked him quietly and without turning around to look at him.  “Is that why everything sucks?  Am I still asleep, stuck in some never ending hellscape?”

Jake pulled you back, tighter against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder and leaving a trail of soft kisses.

“I wish I could say yes.  I wish I could say this was all just a nightmare and you’ll wake up in a world where she’s still here.  I’m sorry that I can’t.  I’d give anything to give her back to you.”

You turned around in his arms and placed a hand on his cheek.

“I know you would.  That’s why I love you.”  You gave him a small smile and leaned in for a peck on his lips.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done during this whole thing.”

“You don’t have to thank me”, he said with that cocky smile only Jake Seresin could give.  “You’re my person.”

You were still somewhat numb to the world by the time your aunt’s funeral came around and you had intended to simply dress in black, but Jake convinced you to have a bath and surprised you with your favorite bath bomb from LUSH.  As you sat soaking in the glittery blue water thanks to the Intergalactic bath bomb, Jake washed your hair and scrubbed away the tears tracks on your face.

You still dressed in black, but wore a cardigan with yellow and blue flowers, your aunt’s favorite.  When you were finished getting ready, you sat on the edge of your bed to watch Jake finish getting ready.

“You don’t have to dress all fancy, you know.”  Jake looks at you in the mirror and smiles.

“I know darlin’...”, he replies as he slides his belt through the loops of his dark blue pants, making sure the clip was on the correct side of the buckle.  “...but your aunt always said she loved a man in uniform, so I wanted to do this for her.”

“Jake…I just fixed my face.”

“Now, sweetheart, ya know there ain’t nothin’ ‘bout that face I’d fix, right?”

“Ok, wow, Mr. Texas”, you said with a laugh. “Your accent is sometimes almost non-existent and sometimes, just super strong.”

“It happens.”  He flipped his shirt collar up and turned to face you, holding his tie.  “Would you mind helpin’ a guy out?”

You stood and took the tie from him, placing it under the collar, and tied it in a Windsor knot.  When you finished, you carefully took his coat from the hangar and held it open for him.  After he slid his arms in, you smoothed the shoulders out and helped him adjust the lapels.  

“Thanks sweetheart.”  You unzipped the protective cover of Jake’s white service cap and handed it to him.

“Lookin’ good lieutenant.”

“You ready to go?”

“Do we have to?

“We do.”

“Let’s do this.”

The funeral had been lovely, a lot of the parts of the ceremony had been chosen by your aunt, like the music and flowers.

She’d also asked for the reception following the funeral to be held at the Hard Deck, as she’d fallen in love with the place after you took her there to meet the Daggers a few years ago.  Penny was more than happy to oblige.

After thanking everyone for coming, and having a few bites, you wandered outside and sat in the sand to watch the waves crash.  You felt the tears start to fall as you remembered the last time you were here with your aunt…

It was a gorgeous day.  Your aunt was perched in her beach chair, you next to her, as you both watched the Daggers play their weekly scheduled game of Dogfight Football.  Jake screamed out as he scored a touchdown, pointing at you with the ball and a smile.

“Hold on to that one, Sweet Pea.”  You turned to look at your aunt with a smile.

“I plan on it.”  You both smiled as you continued to watch them all play.

“He’s going to be the one you’ll need to lean on when I’m gone.”

“Please, don’t remind me”, you replied, trying to hold back tears.  “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

Your aunt took your hand in hers and pulled it towards her, placing a kiss on the knuckles.  The Daggers cheered loudly as Coyote ran down the beach and scored a touchdown.  Jake jumped up and down next to his friend as he celebrated.

“Oof, that boy sure is something”, your aunt said, with a bite of her lip.

“Nah”, you replied, smiling at Jake’s cheers with his team.  “He’s everything.”

Jake watched you sitting in the sand from the back deck of the Hard Deck.

“How’re they doing?”  Startled out of his thoughts, Jake turned to see Rooster, Coyote, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, and Phoenix standing around him.

“Not well, but that’s to be expected.  Their aunt meant a lot to ‘em”, Jake replied.  He looked back over at you and saw your shoulders shaking.  “Excuse me guys, it seems I’m needed.”

He hopped off the back and headed towards you.  When he made it to you, he sat behind you, a leg on either side, pulling you back towards him.

“Let it out sweetheart, I’ve got ya.”

“It’s not fair Jake!  She didn’t deserve what happened to her!  She’s going to miss everything, like if we get married or have kids or when you get promoted and all the awesome places I promised to take her if you happened to get stationed somewhere exotic.”

“You wanna marry me and have kids?”  You smacked him on the leg.

“That’s what you got from all that?”

“I’m sorry darlin’”, he said as he squeezed you tight.  “Please continue.”

“I just miss her so much.  She was so special to me.”

“I understand, I felt the same way when my grandma passed.  I didn’t think I’d ever be okay.  I don’t think I’m okay now, and it’s been years!  If I talk about Nana Seresin, I will start crying.”  He kissed you on your temple.  “I am by no means an expert in grief, but what I know is that it will get better, no matter how cliché that sounds.  One day, that stabbing pain you feel will dull, and it’ll be just like a bruise.  You’ll be able to think of her and all the memories you’ve got of her without crying and look back on them with happiness.”

“When will that happen Jake?”

“I don’t know sweetheart.  It’s different for everyone.”

“What if I forget her?”

“You won’t.  You know why?”  You shook your head.  “You’ll never forget her because a part of her will always live on in you, and everyone’s hearts she touched.  The squad will never let you forget because they loved your aunt too.  We’ll help remind you every day.”

You sat up straight and turned to look at him and placed your hands on his cheeks, running your thumbs over them.

“When did you get so smart, Lieutenant?”

“I’ve always been this smart sweetheart.”

“Cocky bastard.”

“And don’t you forget.”

PS: I'm real sorry if I made you cry my friend!

#Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin x you #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin x gn!reader #Jake Seresin angst #Jake Seresin fanfiction