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astroboots · 11 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: Issue #2

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Your streak of bad luck continues as you find that the universe is not done putting you in harm's way. Luckily, you have grouchy Spider-man to save you.

Word count: 3,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, near death experiences, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara being a rude bastard and a total softie.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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According to an article that ran in the New York Times: one out of every 40 New Yorkers will have a run in with a Superhero in the time they live here.

That might not sound like much, but considering that nearly 8.5 million people live in this city, it adds up to a lot of people. In fact, most in your friends circle have their own anecdotal story to tell.

I ran into Tony Stark at the Brandy Library and he asked me for my phone number. Bit of a sleaze but he bought our whole table a round of drinks.

Captain America landed on my Fiat on Manhattan Bridge. He dented the roof, but he was very polite about it.

Daredevil was hanging out at the fire escape ladder above the Meatball shop. Gave me tips on what to order.

It's nothing short of a miracle that having lived in this city for as many years as you have that this is the first time you've had a Supes encounter.

It'll be a great story to tell at parties. You fell out of the Chrysler building and were rescued mid-air. It blows all the other stories out of the water. Though, you'll probably leave out the part where he wished he'd left you to die.

You stare blindly at your computer screen. There are endless rows of cells on your excel sheet no matter how far you scroll. Uninterrupted numbers and reference codes for insurance claims that are waiting for your attention. But the numbers and letters all blend into an indecipherable sludge soup. All you can focus on is: 'I should've let you fall.'

Heat prickles your cheek, as you replay his words in your head.

What the hell.

That was entirely unnecessary.

You didn't deserve that.

Over the course of the last 24 hours, you've played the scene on an endless loop in your head, until the memory is worn and scratched like a used up VHS tape.

Did you do something wrong? You must've. Who has ever heard of a Superhero treating a civilian in this manner? You’re just a hapless innocent bystander who fell out of a building due to a supervillain battle they started. To blame it on you and then call it a mistake. Isn't that something a supervillain would do?

Gritting your teeth, you feel yourself seething of the memory of the windows next to you breaking and shattering out of nowhere as a bird-person villain with mechanical wings tumbled past you. Next thing you knew you were tumbling out the window.

And then he saved you.

Did he mean to save someone else? Is that why he was so annoyed? But, you didn't see any other people falling from the building on your way down.

You replay the memory. Again.

The looming silhouette of his towering frame over yours as he sneered down at you.

He looked at you like he knew you. Like you had offended him with your mere existence. But you don't understand how. You've never met him before. Never met anyone who looked even remotely like him. You would've remembered a man with red eyes, they're not exactly common. Plus, you don't think you've ever met someone quite so tall. Your neck hurt with the angle you had to crane just to look at his face.

What could you possibly have done in your lifetime to piss off a Superhero you've never met before?

For that matter what Superhero is he anyway? You think back at the dark navy suit clinging onto every inch of skin, embellished by that bright angry red in the emblem of a spider.

Spider-man...

Except Spider-man is known to be a swell guy with a great sense of humor. Not a rude asshole.

Aren't his colors inverted too? You pull up the browser on your screen and google "spiderman outfit". There's over 800 million hits. In all of them Spiderman's suit is primarily red with blue embellishment.

Whoever the guy is, you don't think he's your friendly neighborhood Spiderman that every New Yorker knows and loves.

With a hapless sigh, you click aimlessly on your screen, trying to look busy at work for the next twenty minutes until you can go on your lunch break. You go through the motions of your soul sucking tasks. Tagging each insurance claim into one of the following categories: approved/rejected/further missing information required.

Peering over your cubicle wall to the wall of windows, you spy the section that has been zoned off since yesterday. The broken window you were knocked out of has already been replaced, but there's still shattered glass and debris nearby.

Your stomach drops, the phantom sensation of the ground beneath you giving way. For a brief second you swear you can feel the weightlessness of soaring through the skies without anything catching your fall.

You stand up from your desk, solid ground meeting the soles of your feet to remind you where you are.

The office.

There's a monotone drone of workers all around you grumbling and sighing just as unhappily. The quiet tip-tapping of keyboards of the working masses.

Is this the life you managed to escape death for?

Is this it?

It's kind of sad isn't it? You nearly died and lived to tell the tale, only to return to a life so unremarkable your brain didn't deign it necessary to provide you with any highlights (cause there are none).

The most exciting thing that has happened to you the whole of this year was being insulted by a grumpy superhero. The most you've wanted to live was during that span of ten seconds when you were falling out of a building to your death.

You glance at your clock, still 15 minutes before noon. You log out of your desktop anyway.

You barely make it across the street from your office. The light is green as you cross Lexington Avenue when the screeching noise of tires tears down the street and rips through your eardrums.

A yellow taxi hurtles towards you at full speed. Through the car window separating you, the cab driver is staring up at you with wide-eyed horror. In that fraction of a second before the hard metal is going to collide and shatter every bone in your body, you only have one thought: Oh god, this is going to hurt.

Life doesn't flash before your eyes. All you see is the familiar blur of shiny blue and red.

Go figure that's the only moment extraordinary enough for your brain to think it's worth replaying before you die.

There's a blunt and forceful shove to the side of your ribs. Softer than you would've imagined a two tonne vehicle slamming into you would be. It doesn't hurt. It reminds you of that time you played football with your cousin and he body slammed you to the lawn. You've heard about this phenomena, the brain will try to protect itself by going unconscious if the pain is too extreme.

But there's no bright light, when you open your eyes all you see is the familiar shiny blue fabric.

A firm weight wraps around your shoulders, and you recognize this, the feeling of being held as you're pulled into their solid chest. There's not enough time for you to look up, you're slammed onto the ground, the solid warmth wrapped around you, absorbing the fall.

The pressure wrapped around you shifts then lifts away entirely. When you open your eyes for a second time, there’s no one there holding you.

There's no one else there with you. Just the standstill traffic of cars and pedestrians gawking at you.

A concerned woman runs over to you, bending down to help you up on your feet. "Are you okay? That car came out of nowhere."

Your legs feel unsteady, wobbling as you put weight on it to stand up.

“I’m fine, I think,” you respond, and look down on yourself. There are no scrapes, just a bit of dust on your work-attire from traffic.

"You're so lucky, Spiderman was there to save you."

You blink up at the woman in dazed confusion and it takes your brain a few seconds to process what she's telling you.

Spider-man...

In your mind's eye the flashes of blue and a vivid red invades your vision. It wasn't just your life flashing you by. Not just a figment of your imagination.

He was here. He saved you. (Probably not) Spider-man saved you (again).

A wave of gratitude washes over you. You take back every unflattering thought you had about the man not five minutes ago. Rude? Would a rude man save you, not once but twice in one day? No, of course not, you probably just misunderstood him, or misheard. After all, if he truly regretted saving you, he wouldn't have done it a second time... right?

When you get back at your desk, there's a post-it tacked to your computer screen, with an angry scrawl of a handwriting.

'Look BOTH ways before crossing!!!!!'

You stare at the note, and the way the word "both" is capitalized and aggressively underlined.

Rude.

The universe is out to kill you. You're sure of it.

They say that death comes in threes after all. So no one can blame you for being a little bit on the edge after you've gone two for two within the time span of 24 hours.

You stay away from windows in tall buildings. You look both ways, twice, before crossing the street. You try to go straight home from work the minute you clock out from work, turning down any and all initiations with friends to go out after out of precaution. It's just not worth the risk.

And for a while it seems to work. For a while, there are no more incidents. A week goes by and your nerves start to settle and you are lulled into a temporary sense of security before it all goes to shits.

A ceramic flower pot on a windowsill tumbling off the sixth floor of a brown house by Chelsea that would have dropped on your head and split your skull if someone hadn't bumped into you from behind that you weren’t able to catch sight of.

A piece of scaffolding that comes loose and falls from a construction site in West Village as you happened to walk past, and would have been crushed under if you weren’t tackled away at the last second by someone who fled the scene before you could thank them.

A hot dog cart runs amok, hurtling downhill towards you between 184th and 190th street in Manhattan when the cart suddenly out of nowhere, against the very laws of physics like it’s being pulled by an invisible force and changes direction mere inches in front of you, hurtling through the air and crashing into the windows of a bodega instead.

Each and every incident leaves you with an ever growing sense of paranoia that this cannot be explained away by being merely pure bad luck. There are cosmic forces at force that clearly want you dead.

On Thursday, there are leftover cupcakes from a client conference. Mary, the secretary in your team, boxes up four of them for you and tells you to take them with you, because, "you've had a rough week, toots."

It’s not a flattering assessment of you, but when you see your own reflection in the mirrors of the office toilets, you can’t help but think it’s an accurate one. You look rough. Eyes bloodshot with deep furrowed lines underneath. Your face is gaunter than you remember seeing it too.

You take the cupcakes.

It's the first good thing that has happened to you all week, and as small of a comfort it is, you take it as a win.

You eye the box from your desk the rest of the day, squirreled away in your tiny cubicle. You are determined not to eat one while at work. Because you'll be damned if Matt from accounting catches a whiff of your cupcakes and asks you to share one with him. You want to properly savor them in the comfort of your home at the end of the day.

But as often is the case when you have something to look forward to, the seconds, minutes and hours tick away with a reluctant drag as if time itself knew you wanted the day to end faster and decided it'd be fun to flip yet another cosmic middle finger in your direction.

When it's finally time to end work, you get off your chair so forcefully it knocks it to the floor. You are practically jogging through the lanes of cubicles to get to the elevator, and nearly smack the security guard on the other side with how hard you swing open the front door.

It's pouring outside, which, of course it is. You take off your jacket and cover your cupcake box with it, because you're not going to let the universe ruin the one good thing you've got going for you this week, as you run towards the station.

The moment you step into the damp and sticky station any remaining sense of joy in you evaporates. There's a hoard of tourists swarming the subway paying no attention to their surroundings. Tourists wearing their caps and backpacks and wheelies knocking over a 'Caution Wet Floor ' sign as they gather in a throng in front of the subway map, blocking the way as you hear the train approach.

It's not that big of a deal. A train comes every two to five minutes, and if you miss this one, you'll just get on the next one. It's not the end of the world. Logically, you know that. Emotionally and spiritually however, the world around you has just taken a little bit too much from you for you to concede to this minor little loss.

You are going to make this goddamned train.

Taking a determined step forward, you shoulder and push your way through the throng of people to fight your way to the front of the track.

You push a little too hard. Your feet skid across the slippery tiles, leg buckling from your own weight and you lose control, tumbling forward.

In your peripheral view there's a blinding light approaching. There's wind beating the sides of your face, and you can hear the screeching metal of the train right next to you. Your foot drops into empty space and you are falling into the tracks.

Oh god why...

Why?

You just want to live.

The cupcake box flies out of your grip, splattered somewhere across the front pane of the train. There's a hard tug on your shirt as an invisible force you cannot see yanks you back, hard.

Your head whips back and for a fraction of a second, there are crimson eyes staring back down at you, you blink and then it's gone.

You land on your ass with a bruising force to your tailbone with a bone-breaking thud. The subway whizzes by with a demonic roar past you, inches from where you're sprawled on your ass on the dirty tiles of the subway station.

In front of your feet, there's a long streak of white frosting trailing down from your feet to the tracks of what looks like a crime scene.

Maybe it's the stress. Maybe you've just had a bad night of sleep (after many successive bad nights with little to no sleep). But something in you breaks at the sight of the frosting smeared across the dirty subway tiles.

Your eyes sting with exhaustion. Chest drawing in tight with a crumbling ache that makes you want to curl up on the cold tiles. You're just so tired.

There are people around you staring at you. No one in their right mind who lives in New York would sit on the floor of the subway.

But your legs are heavy and numb. You can’t move from the spot. Everything tastes like bile. You try to swallow and force it back down but it's no use, your throat has swollen shut. Your cheeks run wet and you press your palms to your eyes to make it stop but that only seems to make it worse. Snot runs down your nose and drips down your wrist. You're crying and you don't know how to stop.

Is this the rest of your life?

In the morning, you wake in your bed with a sore ache that gnaws at your bones. Swollen eyes and a soreness that scratches the lining of your throat.

Your back hurts, and as you try to turn to your side to get out of bed a sharp pain surges up along your entire spine.

Fuck.

It's too bright. The sunlight is offensive. It stings your eyes and makes you sick to your stomach. You only have vague memories of how you made it back home. Feet shuffling through the subway in a daze like the walking dead.

God is that what you are? A dead man woman walking?

You crane your head and catch a glimpse of your clock on the bedside table. 9.13 You're late for work. But that's mind as well, you don't have it in you to make it in.

What's the point anyhow? You hate that place.

Besides, if the subway on the way over doesn't finish off the job this time around, then eventually a taxi will. Failing that the universe is probably going to send over a ninja assassin rat from the subway to come after your life.

There's a soft breeze coming in from the open window that grazes the back of your neck and you turn your head towards it. All you can see from your window is the brick wall of the neighboring building. Even though your apartment is on the sixth floor, you can't see a speck of the New York skyline.

Still the breeze is nice, though you don't remember opening the window last night. You never usually do. It is silly and paranoid. No human robber could possibly climb up your six storey building just to climb into your window and rob you. If they could, they’d find that there isn’t much to rob in your apartment, the most valuable thing you own is a complete Le Creuset Cookware set.

Your eyes glaze over your work tote bag on the floor next to the window, drifting upwards and spot the pink box sat on the window sill and you stop.

You didn’t put that there.

You sit upright in your bed, setting your feet to the floor and force yourself to leave your bed as you pad over to the open window.

It's a fancy looking thing. Baby pink, and chiffon ribbon on its side. Wrapping your pinkie around it, you tug it loose. You perch your thumb against the corner of the lid when you stop.

It's not another one of the universe's assassination attempts is it? You're not going to open it to find a bomb ticking down are you?

You hesitate for another moment, taking a deep calming breath before you gather the courage to finally lift the lid. Inside, there is a gorgeous display of cupcakes adorned with white and pink frosting, topped with strawberries, chocolate shavings and on two of them there's mini macarons.

Way fancier than the day old Costco cupcakes you'd lost yesterday.

Picking up one, you take a bite. The frosting is light and zesty. The refreshing lemon melts on the tip of your tongue as the buttery cream floods your mouth with the rich flavor. It's the best thing you've ever tasted.

Lifting the box, you check the sides of it to see if there's any note left behind, but there's none.

Gladis Bakery. It's from a bakery you've never heard of before. When you google the name the place is outside of New Jersey, 58 minutes away and you would need to take a subway then switch to a tram.

There's no note attached, but you don't need one. The list of candidates who would be physically able to climb up six floors up the bricks of your apartment building to leave cupcakes on your window isn’t a long one.

Something warm blooms in your chest at the thought, and your fingers linger on the top of the box, savoring the taste of lemon and sugar still lingering on your tongue.

You put your head out the window, not sure what you're expecting to find but find yourself disappointed all the same when there's nothing there. No people in the quiet street below, and nothing unusual above.

"Thank you for uhm... saving me,” you say into the silence with nothing but the traffic noise below to answer you.

“And the cupcakes," you add.

There's no reply.

~ To be continued.

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#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #oscar isaac #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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jar-of-something-else · 1 year

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sleeping w/ the mercs [IT IS LIKE THAT]

these are so badddddd bro literally ignore this i just need practice and the mercs are my victims pinky promise i'll get better

yeah the title is the exact same as the tf2 headcanons from my main SO WHAT

if ur under 16 please don't interact 👍🏻

afab reader i’m sorry guys :( gender is totally neutral though

obviously this is under a cut

warnings/includes: MENTIONS OF SYRINGES/NEEDLES, SCALPELS, AND MEDICAL STUFF IN MEDIC'S SECTION!!!!!! AND KNIVES AND BLOOD IN SNIPER'S!!!! these are so bad, pyro is insane, medic is also insane, sniper is depraved, actually everybody's depraved, i'm depraved and also so so sorry

mostly what they're into/how they behave, nothing super reader specific in these ones

Scout:

-he’s got enough experience but he isn’t as good as he says he is, he’s got the spirit though and that’s what matters

-really good with his fingers but he can't find the clit half the time so help him out a bit

-absolutely an ass man but isn’t into anal

-scout usually likes positions where he can easily see/touch your ass (doggy, reverse cowgirl, etc)

-definitely says cringe shit in the bedroom, 100% refers to himself as daddy (which is canon i think?? i remember him having a voice line where he does that, could be wrong tho)

-has tried (and failed) to call you kitten on the regular but reverted back to the usual (still cringy) nicknames he calls you after demo made fun of him

-he never shuts up so the dirty talk is CRAZYYYY

-calls you stuff like doll, baby, babe, and uses pretty girl/boy/baby and babygirl/boy/doll when he's close

-even though he’s a little clumsy with it, he really does like giving oral, just give him a little direction; BUT likes receiving oral even more, sorry abt ur knees babe 💔

-definitely into semi-public sex, he won’t do anything in front of people but you bet your ass he’s finding some alleyway or storage closet to get freaky in

-does get jealous pretty easy and even though he’s usually not too rough with you he is not above manhandling when he sees fit

-the dog tags stay on, do with that what you will

Soldier:

-good GAWD

-literally so mean but mean in a hot way so that makes it okay

-absolutely nickname crazy; most of them aren't very cute or sexy (i.e. cadet, maggot, etc) but cupcake always makes an appearance

-very much into verbal degradation because of course he is, is also very into manhandling and just kinda tossing you around but he doesn't wanna hurt you too bad

-rarely ever fucks on an actual bed, usually it's the nearest wall/table/chair/couch, any surface you could lay/sit on really

-no the helmet is not coming off but that adds to it

-the honey IS going on though, maybe not his full body but it will make an appearance (he’s def into foodplay)

-tiny bit of a size kink, i think soldier is one of the taller, bulkier mercs so there's a very good chance he's much bigger than you in one way or another

-would absolutely be interested in a threesome with demo let's get real here

-very attracted to body hair bc i say so

-likes positions where he's very obviously the one in control/with the power; very into restraint either with some device (handcuffs, rope, etc) or with his own hands

-VERY loud, so good luck with that lmao

Pyro:

-man,,,,

-obviously into temperature and wax play

-the mask and suit do not come off, but pyro has a plethora of toys to use on you instead 😊

-gets off on the idea that he's some faceless person you can't really understand that has complete control over you and your body

-does occasionally lift the mask up just above his nostrils to kiss you, though, scarred lips be damned

-does babble a lot, even though it's all muffled; the nicknames he uses are surprisingly cute, he'll call you stuff like sugarplum, marshmallow, firefly, sugar cube, and other sickly-sweet names

-doesn't like showing you his bare skin/body because of their burn scars, but pyro does enjoy grinding if you wanna help him out that bad

-derives most of his pleasure from making you feel good, though, so he isn't really looking for any type of physical release on his end

-pyro's are kinda short i just can't think of any more rn i apologize 💔

Demo:

-WHAT A MAN 😍😍😍

-#1 lover out of all the mercs get fucked spy

-i think his build is very similar to soldiers, maybe an inch or two taller, so he definitely has the same lowkey size kink

-is also open to a threesome with soldier

-absolutely a service dom but he teases so much

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!!!

-likes when you call him by his name more than any of the cheesy titles dudes usually want their significant other to call them but he is always referring to you by any nickname he can think of; the most popular ones are lamb, sweetheart, lass/lad, my girl/boy/baby and "poor, sweet thing"

-loves talking to you and making you talk back to him even when you're literally on a different planet; makes you tell him what you want him to do even though he knows exactly what you're gonna say

-also slightly into dumbification (not to the extent medic or engineer are, though, he just thinks it's hot)

-very much into face and thigh riding

-foreplay alone could last as long as an hour if he's feeling "mean" at that particular time

-THIGH MAN!!!!!! LET'S GO!!!!!!!!!!

-makes you hold eye contact with him, sometimes the eyepatch comes off 🥴

-likes giving a whole lot more than receiving but he isn't about to turn down a blowjob if you offer

-waking you up with oral, it's his version of breakfast in bed

Heavy:

-and you thought demo was a service dom 🙄

-literally will do whatever you ask him to he does not care, as long as you feel good he's content

-very obvious size kink and it's very easy to exploit, but heavy doesn't take too kindly to teasing (he isn't about to stop you, though)

-speaks mostly in russian so unless you're fluent you can't really understand him but you get the gist of what he's saying by the tone in his voice

-outside of whatever russian bullshit he's spouting out, he calls you his "leetle bunny"

-tries to be gentle with you because of how big he is, but if he's provoked he can and will get wild

-as stated above, he can and will get wild, which includes his dirty talk; russian praise will turn into demeaning english muttered in your ear

-BREEDING KINK !!!!!!!!!!

-doesn't tease you on purpose, but he goes slow enough to where you think he's fucking with you (no pun intended)

-begging is never necessary but it is a guilty pleasure of his

-doesn't ask to receive oral often but watching you struggle with it does kinda turn him on even more

-face sitting extraordinaire, yes he does make the stupid eating sounds like in the game and yes he does it on purpose to try to make you laugh

-LET HEAVY FUCK NASTY GOD DAMN IT!!!

Engineer:

-WHAT A MIGHTY GOOD MAN 😍😍😍

-much stronger than you'd think he is and he does use that to his advantage

-slight temperature play when the gunslinger is involved, it's just a little colder than room temperature but it's a very stark contrast

-loves conflicting his speech with his actions; he'll sweet talk and praise you while he's railing you into next week

-speaking of, he'll call you anything but your name. honeybee, honey, darlin', sweet girl/boy/baby, baby girl/boy/doll, any nickname that sounds hot in a southern accent he's callin you

-he absolutely has a daddy kink but won't tell you unless you have one too and approach him first, chances are you're younger than he is and he doesn't wanna make you think he's a weirdo

-all in all, the dirty talk is INSANEEEEEEEE

-absolutely into dumbification, he knows he's smart and he gets off on the power imbalance when you're babbling about nothing and he's still perfectly present

-also slightly into dacryphilia? it's not attractive when you're crying from pain, sadness, frustration, etc but he likes making you feel so good you're overwhelmed and all you can do is cry for him

-might forget to take the helmet and goggles off, but if you want him to keep them on then by all means he will

-would absolutely abide by the cowboy hat rule (if you don't know what that is, basically if a cowboy puts his hat on your head y'all are fuckin' later on)

-very much into bigger people, the extra chub around the thighs, chest, cheek, and stomach areas are a weakness of his

MEDIC!

-the moment we've all been waiting for

-kinda like soldier in the fact that he's mean in a hot way, but it's less bully-mean and more absolutely deranged mean

-of course he's into degradation and medical play, definitely dacryphilia and dumbification (for similar reasons engineer is), another merc with a slight size kink cause medic is big as hell

-likes to get you on the operation table and trace a syringe or scalpel (or both if he's feeling patient [haha get it]) along your body purely for the fear it evokes from you

-wants to get you scared/vulnerable and that's how he starts his foreplay; totally into the whole predator/prey thing but not in the same way sniper is, medic is more into metaphorical or psychological hunting rather than the actual thing

-FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!!! FAKE SYMPATHY!!!

-teases, edges, and overstimulates you to the point of tears and gets this stupid smug look on his face while cooing at you

-calls you demeaning names, like pet, but he's got some cute ones he uses too; täubchen, maus, schatz, and liebling (dove, mouse, sweetheart, and darling) are very prevalent in and outside of the bedroom

-if you're okay with it, medic does like to use you as a bit of stress relief when everybody else is getting on his nerves

-is 100% down for a doctor/nurse or doctor/patient roleplay let's get real here

-also into semi-public sex, sometimes he'll leave the medbay door unlocked and slightly ajar purpose just to mess with you

-though he is very rough with you most of the time, he likes to save his more tender moments for when the two of you are in an actual bedroom and not his workspace

Sniper:

-wild. like genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself when he's horny he just goes fucking crazy.

-even though he gets crazy insane, he doesn’t really know what all to do and it frustrates him; he doesn't have much experience when it comes to sexual acts with another person involved so please give him some pointers

-absolutely into knife play come on

-if you have a period, he'd also be down for period sex he does not care about blood in the slightest

-isn't all that nickname-heavy like some of the other mercs here, but he does sprinkle them into his dirty talk. it's usually the same things he calls you outside of the bedroom, like 'roo, darl', and love

-into body worship, giving or receiving. he likes making you feel beautiful and he likes feeling good about himself too

-would definitely want you to suck him off while he does target practice and i know this is such a popular headcanon but come on guys

-another popular headcanon is sniper being into predator/prey dynamics which like,,,come on. it's literally perfect. you're telling me this nutcase dude wouldn't be into scaring the shit out of you by physically hunting you down. it's basically canon idc

-likes biting and leaving marks on your neck/shoulders in very visible areas because he's kind of a possessive guy ngl

-as much as he likes people seeing the aftermath of what he does to you, sniper is a very private person so he really wouldn't be all that into sneaky sex. the closest you'll get is his sniper nest while he does target practice on cease-fire days

Spy:

-despite being an asshole on the regular, he's a very attentive lover

-into body worship but only giving, he already knows he's fine and he wants to make sure you're never insecure about yourself

-bilingual babe 😍 speaks in french so much you can't really understand what he's talking about but he's more than happy to give you a translation

-also has a daddy kink let's get real here

-KNIFE PLAY!!!!!!!!!!

-heavily into power play as well, similar to pyro because he'll keep his clothes (including the mask and gloves) on while you're completely bare to him

-likes buying you lingerie

-likes getting and giving head the same amount, he has no real preference cause it's gonna end in sex every time anyway 🤷‍♀️

-french nicknames ONLY!!!! mon cher (my dear), ma chérie/mon chéri (my darling), amour/mon amour (love/my love), gentille fille/garçon/bébé (sweet girl/boy/baby), mon ange (my angel) [currently using my basic understanding of the french language for evil]

-semi-public and public sex spy does not give a fuck he has a cloaking device for a reason 🙄🙄

-if you don't already have one he will give you an accent kink

#i'm so SORRYYYYY #tf2 fans please don't beat me over the head #i just need practice </3 #yeah i included some salt n peppa references too i couldn't help myself #tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #tf2 smut #scout x reader #soldier x reader #pyro x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #engineer x reader #medic x reader #sniper x reader #spy x reader #smut headcanons #god i am so sorry

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ist4rgirlo · 9 months

Text

─ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 - 𝐜.𝐟 : 𝐈𝐈

Summary: Now that your life has turned upside down, are you still willing to put your siblings' feelings first? Or would you rather fight for your feelings and do what makes you happy regardless of the consequences that might result in the future?

Prev ; Next || Conrad Fisher x fem!reader || My blog

Warnings: S2 SPOILERS! panic attacks (lmk if i missed anything!)

SEQUEL TO BEFORE EVERYTHING HAPPENED.

───────────────────────────

Belly's Pov

Me and Jeremiah decided to go to Aunt Julia's house — just to try to talk to her, maybe we can do something — maybe we can stop her from trying to sell the house.

We even decided to buy her flowers as an offering. As we arrived to her house, I took a deep breath and decided to hop out of the car —Jeremiah following behind me. I walked towards the door with Jeremiah beside me before ringing the door bell.

Aunt Julia opened the door before saying "Can I help you?" she asked. Jeremiah walked towards her and hugged her "Hey Aunt Julia" he said smiling — before pulling away. "Uh uhm Conrad told me you were here"

Aunt Julia looked at Jeremiah "Oh Jeremiah" she paused "and you are?" referring to me "I am Belly, Belly Conklin. Laurel Park’s daughter, Susannah's bestfriend" I told her smiling gently — giving her the flowers that I was holding.

"Oh wow, it's been so long" she said, scratching her forehead. "Uhm, we just wanted to say hi and maybe talk a little bit" Jeremiah chuckled before looking at her and smiling.

"Look uhm if its about the house, I'm sorry. It's decided" Aunt Julia said — smiling gently. Jeremiah's mouth frowned.

"Uhm we're actually doing an open house tomorrow."

"You.. you have to know how much that house means to Jeremiah and Conrad. That was their place, how-how can you let go of such a-a magical place?" I asked Aunt Julia.

"I remember her calling it that" Aunt Julia paused "But i-it's not personal" Jeremiah looked at her — brows furrowed "I bet" Jeremiah smiled sarcastically.

"I'm sorry, I have to go back to work" Aunt Julia said before closing the door. I looked at Jeremiah — I place my hand on his shoulder and patted it. We walked towards the car and drove off.

"I'm sorry, Jere" Jeremiah looked at me "It's okay, we cant really change someone's mind" he said — placing a hand on my shoulder.

TIME SKIP

"Where'd you guys go?" Conrad asked — his hair wet, he was wearing a surf suit. "We went to Aunt Julia's house" Jeremiah sighed.

Conrad face started to fill with hope "H-how did it go?" I looked at him "She's sure about this, Conrad. I don't think we can change her mind." I said -- he nodded before saying "Ofcourse"

───────────────────────────

It seems like the news that we were here in Cousins have spread fast as Taylor and Steven are on the way here. Apparently, me and Taylor were bad at lying thats why Steven knew about it immediately.

I hoped that Y/N was with them but Steven said no. He tried to push her to go but she said she need to do much more important things, I just miss her. We all thought that this news would make her come here but we were wrong.

Conrad and Jeremiah decided to talk to their dad. “Dad should be calling soon” Conrad said, informing Jeremiah.

“Do you guys want to talk to him alone?” I asked — not wanting them to be weirded out that I was there. “I-I can wait upstairs.”

As Jeremiah sat down, Conrad looked at me before saying “You helped me and J get this far. Plus its your house as much as it is ours” he smiled gently. I sat down as the phone started to ring.

AFTER A FEW MINUTES

We did everything, everything to save the house. Nothing is working, their dad is just letting it go. He just kept on sayong that it was legally Aunt Julia’s — it seemed like he never cared for it, for the house.

As the call ended, Taylor and Steven arrived to the house, surprising Conrad and Jeremiah. They were confused about why we looked down — I forgot to tell them that the house is on sale.

“We’re losing the house” Jeremiah said, sighing. “They’re putting it up for sale”

“Oh Cinderbelly” Taylor said as I stood up to hug her.

───────────────────────────

Conrad’s Pov

Here I was again, looking for her. Trying to see if she came with Steven and Taylor but no. She hasn’t even responded to my text. Maybe she’s busy.

I walked towards Jeremiah, sitting down beside him. “Hey” I said, patting his shoulder.

“You know, I thought I could convince dad. I thought we could” He sighed.

I nodded and sighed “I thought so too.” chuckling a little bit.

“It’s just.. it feels like everything is slipping away and-and the house is the only thing - the last thing tying us together” It was true, it did feel like it — we didn’t expect that we’d get together like this, that we’d be complete because of this reason.

“We’re not giving up, Jere” I looked at him shaking my head “We’re going to do something about it, I don’t have a plan. Not yet but I’ll do everything, we’ll figure ig out together.” I told Jeremiah. He nodded.

“I-I just hope she’s here, she’s the only one missing Connie” Jeremiah said — referring to Y/N. She just made everything less worse for everyone, I hope she was here too.

“Me too, Jere. Me too” I paused “You know, we should hang out tomorrow. Just all of us staying here for open house, that’d be a good plan” I chuckled

Jeremiah chuckled then nodded “Yeah we should definitely do that”

TIME SKIP

As me and Jeremiah got done talking we went inside the house and decided to hang out with the rest. They all sat down in their own places. “So what do you guys want to watch?” I asked.

“We should do… this one” Belly said — holding up mom’s favorite movie. I smiled taking it from her hands as I walked towards the tv — i mouthed a “thank you” to Belly.

After that, I went and sat the down on the other couch until I looked at my phone — recieving a text. I felt my chest tighten, I need to get out of the house. I stood up from my seat and went straight to the beach.

It was happening again, It attacked me again. I couldn’t breathe, it felt like someone was choking me. I pulled out my phone again — looking if the text was real, it was, I got in but what about Jeremiah, I can’t.

My mind filled with worried, with anxiety, not until another text popped up. It was like a coincidence, the text — my breathing is okay now, my heart is beating at a normal pace. The text was from the one that I have been waiting for.

She responded, it was from Y/N. She was going to come here, she’s coming here to Cousin. We’re complete now.

───────────────────────────

taglist : @maybankslover @urmomisafinewoman @user3729107491 @melllinaa @anthgoldenhrry @arunabrak @amj2277 @whoisalexa @remuslupinwifee @gulphulp @layanderson @astrvalee @goldenmoonbeam @podiumprincess @johannelis2302nely @silcintilla @smw-96 @apollo3475 @drikawinchester @fangirl-kimora @sanjanapm @milyswrld @scysuxx @starkeylover @fallingforel @mysticalstarlightflower @ifilwtmfc

the next part is here !! hope everyone likes it :)) lmk if y’all have requests and if you guys want to get tagged <3

love lots !!

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stryshttu · 9 months

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the scriddler nation doesn't appreciate Riddler 2022 as I do so I'm here to make you love him

He's one of the best interpretations of Riddler and here is WHY.

“he's a desyassified version,” “he doesn't wear expensive suits full of question marks,” “that suit was boring” NO!!!!! IT WAS THE PERFECT SUIT FOR HIM TO START!!! He literally comes from the lowest point, and he talks about how the men in power and corruption keep the low income/poor people at the bottom. Ofc he can't afford those shiny beautiful suits because he doesn't have money for it. Also the military suit was GREAT. He paint it and designed his own symbol which is amazing, a gun sight with a "?" in the center.

Also, he fights againts corruption and classism? 😭 Why would ppl hate that? He fights for the people that were forgotten like him.

“it's not the same story of his father and blah blah blah” ok, they changed his origin story A LOT, and I can get why you get mad at it. I also get mad when I am used to the southern granny Scarecrow story and ppl change it to the story of his father experimenting of him- BUT regarding the Riddler's origin story, it is so so great. Eddie HATES LIES AS WELL, HATES CHEATING, because ppl used to tell him that he could have a better future, and gave him fake hopes. He just wanted an opportunity to be better and when that promise of renewal broke, he broke, too.

He grew wanting to please everyone, be a good boy for the nuns and the other children at the orphanage, even if he didnt agree in somethings or if it was difficult for him to act "normal" (masking his autism- we will talk about that soon), but NOBODY thanked or pleased him. As he got older, he still followed orders from his corrupt boss and the goverment. But what did they do for him? NOTHING. And when he does something for himself ppl tag him as self-centered.

He became the Riddler for the others that also needed help, not only because of him, and ppl still think he's selfish.

He's implied to be autistic (you can notice this more in the comics of Riddler: Year One by Paul Dano), he is non-verbal since kid (canon), as an adult ppl say he doesn't talk and call him weird. He doesn't know how to interact with people in a "normal" way. He also seems to vocally stim with riddles and weird silly noises that you can hear in the movie.

The catholic guilt content? PLEASEEEE. We need to take advantage of that. He even did a catholic reference riddle!!! (That one of the sins of the father)

We can also see that topic of him dont knowing if he's insane or not, (or denying being it). He knows his situation is not good, and HE TRIES to be better, listening to podcast about mindfulness and stay positive- but at the end, everything gets worse to him. He's very smart and is afraid that his biggest and greatest thing about himself (his mind) is also the worst thing and can turn againts himself because of a mental illness. We saw it in the movie when Batman calls him "sick and twisted, etc etc," and he has a mental breakdown. Yes, that scene is DEEPER than you think. His mother died in Arkham when he was in the orphanage as a kid, now imagine that the guy you always admired says to you, “you're gonna die alone at Arkham” just like his mother did and no one cared. He doesn't want that, he wants to be remembered. He doesn't want to end up like his mother- alone and mentally ill.

He makes funny jokes in the movie! He's so goofy!!!!

AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIM BEING A BIG BOY?!!!! CHUBBY RIDDLER SUPREMACY!!!!!

And please he has the same bad habits as Arkhamverse Riddler, you cannot hate this version of him if you love Arkham Knight Riddler. He doesn't sleep well because he plays the DETECTIVE role (YES! HE ALSO GOES THERE AND INVESTIGATES- or else how tf would he have evidence of all the corruption and know all that information?) and claims that Einstein only took naps. He doesnt eat well. His lastname is Nashton (a reminder that is canon that Arkhamverse Riddler had the same lastname before changing it to Nygma). And in this page called "nigma. org" is well known and ppl call him a genius, which suggests that we will soon see how he calls himself E. Nygma.

And yes, he is also a little bastard insufferable, and if you dont think so, then I guess we didnt watch the same movie.

THERE'S SO MUCH MORE OF HIM BEING ONE OF THE BEST ONES!!! but i'll end it up here, thank you for your attention.

#sorry if theres bad English i wrote this at night #anyways Riddler 2022 my beloved #no one understands him as i do #riddler #edward nygma #paul dano riddler #riddler 2022 #Reevesverse #scriddler #PLEASE SCRIDDLER NATION OPEN YOUR EYEEEEEEESSSSSSS #steph talks :)

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buckyarchives · 1 year

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metal arms and short skirts | bucky barnes. [finale!]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. Bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, and you're more than happy to help him

word count: 6.3k

author note: LAST ONE! YAY! i’m so excited for the ending and my inbox is open for extra drabble or some scenarios you’d like to see from reader and bucky!! again (and i’m sorry, i’m lazy) lightly proof read so all mistakes are mine.

outfit reference here | bucky's outfit reference here

warning: smut (gentle dom bucky, oral sex [m and f] vaginal sex, face fucking, shower sex, praise kink, slight degradation? pet names), bucky’s body dysmorphia

read on AO3 | masterlist

Not to be hypocritical, but if you had to sit alone in this Stark lobby for another 10 minutes you were going to blow a fume, You were tired and your heels hurt. Tonight was great (except for you know who) but you wanted to go home.

Your heels tapped anxiously, checking your phone again for the time. Bucky said it would be quick but this wasn't quick (30 minutes to be exact), growing worried as you flinched and whipped your head as every person walked near, thinking it was your supersoldier.

A sigh left your lips, almost disappointed, had he left? Did he stand you up? The questions popped up in your brain momentarily, you knew better, bucky knew better and you knew of that. But those hypotheticals still plagued your mind. Just as you were ready to up and leave, a hand grabbed you gently.

“There you are, I forget how huge Starks lobbies are.” bucky spoke, a smile plastered on his face. his voice was breathy like he had just been running. His hair was all messy, have it you didn't really put it in place that securely, but it was still unusual. Also, his suit seemed out of place, his buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up. Your eyes scrunched up, looking him up and down with suspicion.

“Where were you?” you asked, not meaning to sound so angry with him.

“I got caught up with Steve, then I kinda got lost finding my way back. Sorry, doll.'' Bucky said, smoothing your back gently and walking you towards the door, the cool night hit your skin and made you shiver. Bucky noticed, as usual, almost instantly shrugging his jacket off and setting it around your shoulders.

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing his appearance again. You fully, truly, and really didn't mean to come off as frustrated, or angry at him. But you kinda were, not to sound arrogant or like a snob. You felt stranded in the lobby, insecurities plaguing your mind in a way you were not used to. And you did not like to wait.

Bucky sensed the tension, your frustrations. He felt bad for having you wait, and he didn't technically lie. Bucky did speak to Steve and he did get a little lost finding his way back to the front, what he did in between those two events was something you didn't need to know.

“Yes, you ready to go?” Bucky nodded, trying to avoid the topic in full.

You stopped in your tracks, “I know when you're lying, Bucky.”

Bucky stopped dead as he looked you over, sighing, hanging his head down low. If he knew anything, you were just as stubborn as him and he knew you wouldn't let up. “I had a talk, with the french guy,” Bucky spoke slowly, stringing onto words that didn’t detail how he finally used the new arm you gave him.

“Bucky!” you yelled. “Why? What- what did you do?”

“Nothing! Just talked.”

A lie, obviously.

“I know damn well you did not just talk, your hair is all messy, and your suit is all out of the place,” you said, bucky forgot how perceptive you were, and remembers Nat telling him she thought you could be cut out for their type of field. “Not to sound self-centered, but if you hurt him and they found out why. That comes back on me, badly. I have a reputation around here.”

Everything went silent in bucky’s head when you finished yelling, the security he felt moments ago slowly slipped away from him. Bucky flinched at your words, like they physically hurt him– his heart, maybe.

“I guess I'm not a good choice for your reputation then, huh?” bucky snarked, he couldn't help but feel defensive. Hurt.

Your face dropped and you reached out to grab him, he dodged your touch and it felt like a bullet to your chest. “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“Do I?” Bucky spat. “Really do I? What? Now all of a sudden you don't want people to know about us?”

“Jesus Christ, James! That is not what I meant. I don't care if people know we’re dating, I want them to! But I can't have your unchecked anger and recklessness come back on me and my job” you yelled.

Bucky scoffed, throwing his hands wildly in the air. “I’m sure your job will be fine, but great to know where your priorities are.”

You felt hot with anger, the jacket– Bucky's scent on it made it harder for you to be pissed at him right now, or easier.

Bucky huffed and turned away from you, he knew he couldn't yell at you like this, he knew it was wrong. He couldn't be mad at you when you looked like a walking angel with his jacket on, you looked hurt. bucky felt like an asshole but he also felt hurt along with the guilt. Your words hit him hard in the chest, making him breathless and feeling like an animal in a cage again.

“If you care about me, you care about my job. It's kind of a packaged deal considering it is my entire life,” you yelled, shrugging the navy blazer off and shoving it towards his chest as you went to walk past him.

You were leaving him now, he knew it. Bucky grabbed at your arm, not harsh or aggressive– desperate. Gentle, it felt like a plead. Bucky's face scrunched wildly in emotions he couldn't understand, “I defended you back there because I care about you.'' Bucky's voice was softer now, less angry. His grip loosed from you. “In the only way that I know.”

“I don't need you to defend me.” you almost whispered, hanging your head low.

“I want to. Because…” bucky exhale with a shaky breath, not breaking his gaze from you. “Because I love you.”

Your head shot up, met with blue eyes full of sincerity. Breath hitching in your throat, almost choking on it. Everything went silent, all those insecurity and frustrations were silent and all you could focus on was bucky and his breathing. Face to face, your eyes glanced down to his lips and you scrambled for a reply, despite how obvious it was. You decided on the latter.

Harshly your hands grabbed at his face, his scruff pleasantly scratching against your palms as you pulled him close, so quickly. Slanting your lips on his aggressively, you were hungry and needed to just let it out. Angry at him but you loved him too, and this is how you’d show him.

Bucky breathed you in as he followed, the same frustration coursing through him as he grabbed at your waist and pulled you closer, practically slamming you flush against him. It shot a fire of pleasure through you that made you feel on edge, bucky as well.

Your actions grew sloppy, not something you'd expect from a confession kiss of sorts. Bucky’s tongue found its way into your mouth and your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly and earning a groan from him. You felt dizzy to your core.

You needed to get home, now.

“Bucky.” you wined. “Call a cab, uber... Something, please.”

Bucky hummed against your lips, continuing to kiss you as he slipped his phone from his pocket, and called an uber. He was getting really good at this tech thing if he could do that all while not breaking a kiss.

___________________

It was an utter and total miracle that the two of you could handle yourself waiting for the uber, as you sat in the back and rode all the way to your apartment. once you started up your new york apartment, bucky teased you with open kisses to your neck as you made your way through the empty lobby and towards the elevator. Barely keeping it together once those doors shut.

Bucky was aware of the cameras in the confined walls, keeping it as PG as his body agreed to. His hands tugged and grabbed at your waist, pulling you so close against him, but not enough. kissing each other wild, like feral animals, it was a mess.

The elevator ride seemed to drag out too long, you grew hungry for more, and more, more… bucky groans as you tugged at his hair and nipped at his lip and got mixed into your wines. you ached for more friction.

A moan fell from your lips when bucky brought his knee up, slipping between the slit in your dress and pushing against your core. You hadn't realized how deprived of sex you were until bucky touched you, it had been a few too many months since you'd been caught up at work to take someone home.

“Needy, sweetheart?” he pushed himself against you again, dragging another wine out. A smirk graced bucky's lips.

“Shut up.”

The elevators dings and bucky swiftly swooped you up bridal style, with a yelp and some laughter, he carried you with a smile to your door. You pushed the key into the lock all whilst bucky held you in his arms. The door swung open on accords to bucky’s foot, he kissed you while he made his way to your kitchen counter. Setting you down and pushing himself between your legs.

Bucky's skin was on fire, his cock twitched at every sound you made and he needed more. Growing greedy, he wanted everything, and he was going to take it.

Plump and swollen lips kissed down your jaw, your hands locked around his neck, and bucky’s lips graced your neck and collarbone. Sucking and nipping at the perfect spot, like he could just tell where to make you squirm.

His hands rubbed at your thighs, the thin black fabric that covered you made you both grow frustrated. You need more friction and he needed you, all of you, skin-to-skin satisfaction. Not having enough even when his hand began to rub against your cunt.

“Are these tights important to you?” he whispered in your ear, the implications made you shudder in his arms as you shook your head. That stupidly handsome smirk grew as he pushed you down on your back.

You were grateful to have cleaned your kitchen earlier today.

The weirdly erotic sound of tights ripping made you gasp, watching bucky as you propped yourself up on elbows. The two top buttons of his shirt were left open from you in the uber, and his sleeves rolled up. Bucky looked ready for a feast, he was hungry.

Bucky palmed at your underwear, a soft moan left your swollen lips. His eyes glistened up at you. “Underwear expensive?”

So caught up in the pleasure and desperation, you forgot the fact you were wearing very expensive and very nice underwear. You eyed him, “yes.”

“Too bad.”

Riiipp.

Before you could yell at him, he was already palming at your clit and your head threw back in pleasure. “Fuck.”

“You’re so wet.” bucky marveled down at you. “Fuck, I need you, baby.”

“Please.” another plead. Bucky’s finger coated in your slick wetness, running his finger down your slit sending a chill up your spine.

And then his mouth was on you and it was pure ecstasy, bucky's hand planted on your thighs and drew them further apart. You moaned heavily as he lapped at your cunt, sucking at your clit and just eating you out like he hasn't eaten in years. Sex had never felt this good and you hadn't even taken your top off or made it to the bedroom.

Bucky groaned into you, carding your finger through his hair and tugging at his locks as the knot grew inside of you. Back arching and squirming, bucky alone keeping you still. Bucky could have gotten off to the sounds he was coaxing from you alone, but his cock was aching in the confines of his pants. Bucky needs more and palming himself through his dress pants wasn't doing it for him.

You gasped when bucky’s mouth left your cunt, followed by a pained groan because you were almost there, swear it. Flesh and metal trailed up your dress, bunching it up around your waist.

“Careful, careful, bucky.” you warned him, almost forgetting what you were wearing.

“I'm careful, so careful,” he said, almost in a daze as his eyes trailed over your body. Metal hand slipped to the back and unzipped your dress, fully revealing yourself when he pulled the dress over your head. Leaving you in nothing besides a bra, and ripped-up undergarments. One leg was thrown over bucky’s shoulder, and heels dug into his back.

“Bedroom” you whisper as bucky leaned down again to press open-mouthed kisses along your chest and collarbone. He hummed a response, you laughed and bucky felt like he was in heaven for a moment, the dimmed warm lights of your kitchen shining over the two of you, making your skin glow.

Slowly, your hand felt the side of your island and opened the drawer. Catching bucky's attention, couldn't get anything passed him. Pulling out a small square package. You were on birth control and almost certain bucky hadn't been one to sleep around, but better safe than sorry. Jokingly biting on the package and sending him an over-exaggerated wink, Bucky grinned from ear to ear, eyes sparkling as he took the condom from your mouth.

You yelped when bucky pulled you flush against him again, instantly locking your legs around bucky’s waist. Holding on tight as you dropped your head into the crook of his neck, the end of his hair tickled you, and before you knew it. Bucky nudged your bedroom door open and dropped you on your bed, still pushed in between your legs.

“You're so sweet, baby. Do you need more? want it?” Bucky sweet talked into your ear.

“I do, so bad.” your hands trailed to the buttons on his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them with a dopey grin, biting at your bottom lip.

But something was wrong once you got to the last button, bucky's shoulder tensed and he leaned away from your touch. “Baby? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, uh- just…” bucky gulped, he looked like he was closing in on himself again. “I'm not too pretty, doll. You've seen it.”

Oh.

Your face dropped at what he was implying, “bucky, no, no, what? You’re beautiful, every part of you. I want you, all of you. Because I love you, really.”

The blaring alarm in bucky’s head told him to flee, that you'd never see him as anything other than Hydra's weapon. The ugly scarring on his shoulder reminded him of it. You'd seen it enough, bucky knew that, you weren't scared of him. But it's different now, he was no image of desire. He didn't want to ruin your high.

“I’m serious, bucky. I didn't slave away in Sam Wilson’s blood, and use all my resources to give you something you wouldn't be proud of.” you joked, but still equally serious. Keeping eye contact with his icy blues iris. “I love you, every single inch of you.”

Hesitantly, Bucky calmed and his face relaxed. And he shrugged off the rest of his shirt, leaning down to kiss you sweetly. “I love you too.”

You weren't sure how bucky could think you'd focus on the scarring, because you practically drooled as your eyes scanned over the flexing muscles on his torso. What a man Bucky Barnes is, and he was about to take you for everything you had, thank god for that.

“Bucky.” another plead drew a new feeling out of Bucky as he saw you squirm under him.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

Your back arched against his crotch, you were so fucking needy it was driving you mad. “I need you.”

“Use your words, what do you want me to do to you.” bucky leaned down and whispered into your ears, his hot breath and dirty words made you shudder in his arms. This man will be the death of you.

“I want you to take me.” desire laced your voice. “Please, I want you inside of me, push me into the bed, be rough, anything. Take me, now.”

“Be careful what you wish for, doll,” he warned, almost hesitant in his voice at your request. Be rough, the thought of hurting you scared him to death but…

“Don't hold back, god– please, don't.” you begged, hands reaching down to unzip his dress pants, successfully letting them pool down his pants. “Ruin me, James Buchanan.”

And then it happened all so quickly, you practically got whiplash. Bucky threw his shoes and pants to the side, and tore off the rest of your tights and underwear. Bucky pulled you to the edge of the bed, sitting straight up and against him as the thin layer of his boxers grazed against your core.

“Take it off.” bucky demanded. Motioning to your bra, “I want to watch.”

“Yes, sir.” you said, earning a slight pink to Bucky’s face.

Unclasping the back of your bra, letting it fall loose and bucky's eyes traveled to every inch of you, taking it all in. bucky told himself he’d soak it up, marvel at your utter and pure beauty but fuck– he couldn't hold himself back.

Rougher than he intended to (but it made you feel better), he grabbed you by the waist and threw you far up the bed and on your stomach. Ass perched high in the air and bucky groaned as he pressed himself against you, back to chest, groin to ass. Bucky grinded against you, slow and purposeful, dragging a moan out of you.

“This what you want? Take you like this?” bucky said into your ear, already rubbing at your cunt again, slipping two fingers inside of you, meaning a gasp turned moan from you, pushing against his flesh hand.

“Mhmm.” you moaned, feeling in heaven and he wasn't even inside of you.

“Hand behind your back.” bucky demanded, still pushing his fingers far inside you, down to the knuckle. Spreading you out properly to take him. You obeyed, ad crossed your wrist behind your back. Hearing the faint sound of bucky’s boxer sliding down his thighs. His metal hand wrapped around both of your wrists.

You wished you could have seen his cock spring out, tip angry red and leaking with precum as he teased you by grinding himself against you.

“Good girl.” bucky dragged out as he slipped himself inside of you. It stung for a moment, but the pleasure took over as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. Until he bottoms out, all 7 or so inches burning in pleasure inside of you.

“You can take it.” bucky whispered, almost to himself.

Making sure you were completely comfortable and not hurting before he started to gently grind against you. It's been a while, quite literally 70+ years, bucky knew his rebound time was good (many cold showers spent by himself) but you had to enjoy this. It felt like a mission to him; get you shaking by the end of the night.

Soon your room echoed with the sound of skin slapping, and breathy moans from both of you. Bucky's hand held tight around your wrist, using that to speed up and pound into you.

You mumbled and whimper under your breath as bucky snapped his hips, harder. Bucky was attentive, more than most - he was a spy, anyways. He needed to know what made you feel good, and you were holding back on him.

“Louder. Let me hear you, baby.” he grunted, and you let go instantly. Yelling out bucky's name as he sped up, continuing to listen to your borderline pornographic loud moans.

Soon he found a pace that you responded to the most. Slow, forceful, and hard. Bucky chuckled under his breath. “You’re so fucking dirty, huh?”

You didn’t respond, only choked moans. Absolutely losing yourself in the feeling of bucky drilling into you. Every so gracefully, he turned you around and set you on your back, all without pulling out. Bucky almost came at the sight under him, your mouth gaped open and eyelid heavy and rolling back. Bucky leaned down closer to you, pulling your leg onto his shoulder, practically folding you in half. He didn’t realize how flexible you were until now.

“Oh, baby.” bucky cooed. “don’t tell me you’re going dumb on me now, use your words.”

Strangled moans fell from your mouth, hands latching onto bucky back as you scratched marks– you’d usually leave marks considering the length of your nails, but the serum made you wonder if there’d be no trace by morning. “B-bucky, mhmm, gonna cu-cum. I- I-”

“I feel you, baby.” his metal fingers fell to your clit, rubbing circles and earning a gasp from you. “Let go for me, okay? I got you.”

And you did, eyelashes fluttering as they hit the back of your head. Bucky felt it too, as you squeezed him. You were so warm and tight, he followed along quickly. Filing the condom up, a side effect of the serum he got was an insane about of semen. It genuinely scared the shit out of him the first time he ejaculated.

With the loudest, dragged-out moan, bucky pulled out of you and held you against his chest. You were still experiencing the aftershocks of the orgasm, eyes closed and chest rising heavily. “Baby?” bucky asks.

You hum softly, pleasure still shooting up your core and legs shaking. Eyes slowly blinking open, and buckys looking down at you with so much care and love - you could cry.

A grin grows on his face. He's so beautiful, you think. “There's my girl, you okay?”

“Fuckng amazing,” you breathe out, bucky laughs softly, feeling his breath on your neck. Slowly, coming down from arguably the best sex you've ever had. You kissed the top of his head, “I love you.”

“I love you.” bucky replied, accentuation the ‘you’, making butterflies flutter deep in your stomach.

Bucky's rebound was fast, already ready for another round. But you were still breathing heavily, legs shaking as you practically curled into bucky. Warm and slightly sweaty, but still comfortable. But the frenzy soon faded and you needed more. Smoothing your hands on bucky’s back, where you just clawed at in pleasure. Grazing over his scars and metal, he tensed up at first - this was still new, and you almost pulled away. But bucky just melted into your touch soon.

“I don't feel ruined.” you joke, bucky looks up at you and quirks his eyebrow up.

“Oh?”

A smirk fell to your lips as you looked him dead in the eye, “round two, maybe… in the shower?”

Like two lovesick teenagers, a dopey smile grew on each of your faces as you raced to your shower - laughing among each other. Hands roaming each other's body constantly, tugging and pulling each closer. Relief hit your body as the warm shower head turned on, bucky waited (not well, his hands didn’t leave your hips or thighs) as you took your makeup off.

Insecurity momentarily grew in your chest about your bare face, but it quickly went ignored as bucky showered you in gentle and hungry kisses on every inch of you.

Bucky fucked you against the wall, cock deep inside of you and pushing you into the tile, echoed and loud moans filling your apartment. Hoping you don't get an angered complaint from your neighbors. Bucky's hands didn’t leave your side as he turned you around and hoisted you up and around his hips as he continued to drill into you until you shook.

Then, he fucked your mouth. On your knees and ready for him. He held your chin between his index and thumb with a dark glaze across his eyes. “Wider, baby. Come on, wider– good girl.” he cooed, and you took him down your throat.

Your hands grasped around his thighs and his hand on your head as he helped bob up and down until eventually, bucky let go and shot warm cum down your throat.

“Swallow, baby girl,” he demanded but you were already there. Teasingly opening your mouth wide for him to see before you kissed up his stomach, chest, and neck.

Bucky Barnes could be surprisingly domestic, and insanely good at aftercare.

“Feel ruined yet?” he chucked from behind your back.

A fluffy loofa with lavender and vanilla body wash. Bucky was absolutely relishing in the scent that would make his day, even just for a moment. Gently massaging the areas he gripped with a stupid amount of strength, grimacing to himself as he saw bruises blossoming. Spending more time giving gentle kisses to those areas.

“A little.” you laughed, teasing him despite the fact you were only standing because bucky held you against his chest. “We got time, later.”

Later. Bucky smiled at the thought as he hid in the cook of your neck, giggling as he playfully bit at your soft skin. “You’re more naughty than I thought, huh?”

“Oh, really?” You turned around with narrowed eyes and a bite-back smile. Lowering your voice to mock him, “And how about you? Mr. hands behind your back, I wanna wat-”

“Stop,” bucky wined and swooped down and attacking you with kisses before you could continue to embarrass him. A red tint grew to his face and it wasn’t because of the warm steam. “Stop, or I’ll show you naughty, hm?”

Swiftly and almost skillfully turning the shower off and wrapping you in a towel, hugging you and making you feel the warmest you've felt in awhile. Love warmed your chest and made you glow. You could stay in his arms forever and call it home.

You swayed in each other's arms and alternating from 40s music and Faye webster and your indie rock playlist because both of you couldn't come to an agreement. Bare feet patted on your kitchen tile, warm overhead lights, and the sizzling sound of bucky making you a grilled cheese. It was bordering 1 am when you finally made it to the bed. You gave bucky some sweatpants and a shirt, he asked you where you got such oversized men's clothes and you told him you had so many clothes you didn’t remember. It was from a hookup like 5 months ago.

Bucky hummed as you began to fall asleep on his chest, feeling the soft vibrations, lulling you to a dream world. Where you felt safe, secure, and loved. But it wasn’t a dream for once - it was here and now and in the arms of a supersoldier.

Let's hope you’re not late tomorrow. Walking in late with Bucky Barnes following behind you like a lost puppy would add so much fuel to the already endless teasing from the avengers.

______________________

Love was a tricky subject for you, you were never sure what it really was - or if you truly ever felt it.

You loved your friends, your job, your clothes, and your music. But this was a totally different ballpark, Bucky Barnes was a different type of love that you hadn't been able to wrap your pretty head around yet. You've had plenty of boyfriends; always a month or two and half-heartedly cared more. Way too many hookups, always empty promises midst of the post-orgasm frenzy.

Bucky Barnes was neither of that, this is love and it felt like home. And now that you got a taste – you can't imagine ever letting him go. Which was scary, you still had work and an entire very ambitious career ahead of you. And Bucky Barnes was Bucky Barnes, in all his beauty as the morning sun shines on him, he has his own problems.

Prioritizing was your specialty, a harsh one. You'd push people aside if you couldn't handle their problems because you always came first.

But sometime along the way of fixing some guy's metal arm, with icy blues eyes that reminded you of the frozen midwest lakes, you’d fallen in love and had a change of heart. Because from now on you decided that you’d work overtime if it meant taking some of bucky problems and keeping him in your arms forever. And he decides the same for you.

“Baby,” bucky wined, lazily wrapping himself around your waist as you sat up in bed and went over your schedule. You smiled softly down at him, raking your finger through his morning bedhead.

“Coffee?”

Bucky's eyes lit up, still groggy from sleep. “Yes. yes, please.”

Pulling the white cover off of you, bare feet on the cold hardwood floor. Bucky's hand tugged at your wrist before you could leave, the largest grin plastered on his face. His eyes were glowing in the sun, he was so, so beautiful – you could barely breathe. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Bucky.” you dragged out, tugging away.

He hummed, his strengths were far, far more than yours, pulling you back. “Nope, not letting you go - ever.”

“Then you're coming with me.” you giggled, “get out of bed.”

Reluctantly, bucky dragged himself out of bed - shirtless, might you add - and shuffling behind you like a dope with his hands on your hips. For sure smiling.

“Eggs, can I make eggs?” bucky asks, voice still low and rough.

Hot. you wore his oversized shirt – technically yours, but it smelled like him. Only your panties under, bucky’s hands roaming like a silly teenager, you had to slap his hand away from under the thin fabric, shoving a pan and cart of eggs in his hands. Parting ways to your own areas and getting rid of the morning haze.

Midst sipping on your coffee, looking down at your schedule. Bucky watched you with messy hair and the sun shining down on you. After everything horrible he's been through, his entire fucked up and over extended life. He knew it got him to this moment, and he smiled.

“Baby?” bucky kissed the tp of your head. Humming in response as your head perked up. “Can I dress you today?”

Taken aback slightly, putting your coffee down. This was serious. “Do I really trust you that much?”

“Please?” bucky flashed his pearly whites and kisses you once again. “You can pick out my outfit.”

Biting back a love-sick smile. Gosh, you loved this man too much for your body to handle. You thought for a very short moment, bucky’s eager eyes stripping you down - practically on the end of his seat.

“Fine, fine, fine–” you repeated, and bucky practically tugged out of your seat and swooped you into his arms, bridal style. You yelped - quickly cut off by another kiss as bucky literally ran to your room and closet.

You watched as bucky went through your seemingly endless clothes, also picking up the mess of dress from the night before. Bucky showed you many options, you shook your head at most but bucky kept reminding you he would listen to your opinions but his choice would be final. (“you're so picky, you could not survive in the 40s,” he snarked under his breath.)

Bucky's hand ran over a knit fabric, neutrals, and baby blue and pink stripes. Bucky made his final decisions before he even showed you, holding the flowy short-knit dress up to your body and nodding to himself.

“This, and your black boots,” he said confidently, so confident that you knew there were no other options he’d settle on.

Bucky felt like he was going to explode when you walked out, dress and boots, adding your choices of jewelry. A gold heart necklace and a flimsy gold chain bracelet.

“You are so beautiful, please never forget that, doll.” bucky mumbled into your hair as he hugged you.

“Your turn.” you said, a smirk and warmth on your face. Already had picked out the outfit before bucky could notice, you had a small collection of men's clothes but you had a perfect one for bucky. Hoping it would fit how you imagined.

Let’s just hope he's comfortable with your choice of shirt. It would definitely be a big jump.

You held the clothes behind your back, hand tracing the golden metal along bucky’s arms. It shone in the sun and sparkled, Shuri sure did an amazing job.

“How confident are we about this?” you asked, motioning to the vibranium arm. A look of compilation flashed as bucky showed hesitancy.

“Be more specific, baby.”

Showing bucky the tan rib knitted sweater, almost matching your dress. It was sleeveless. Along with some slick and high-waisted brown dress pants. Bucky almost looked disappointed as his hands took the fabric. You knew this would be a lot, you wouldn't be surprised if he asked for a different shirt - maybe a little disappointed but, you'd understand–

“Okay.” bucky said, your eyes lit up. “Just for you.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

“I love you.” bucky pecked your lips.

“I love you too.”

____________

Bucky was hesitant after leaving the house, he looked fucking insane, absolutely beautiful – you honestly contemplated convincing him to model. The clothes ended up fitting him perfectly. but at first – he walked with a burden on his shoulders.

Both decided on coffee and pastries before work. Slowly but surely as you walked down the new york streets, bucky grew confident with his appearance. He loosened his fist, as he would clench and unclench them when he was nervous. Part of bucky just felt safer around you, sometimes he felt like he could take on the world as long as you were by him.

A warm paper cup is held in your hands, passing the other to him with a smile. A bag of bread in bucky’s hand and you started for the door to - unfortunately - go back to work. This sort of morning-after date would end.

Bucky flinched when he felt a hand tap on his flesh arm before he made it out of the door. If it wasn’t for you holding the other he might have reacted on instinct and made a small scene. Another moment of being thankful for you.

Turning around, bucky looked down to see a small girl - with black hair in pigtails and dressed in purple and sparkles. Her mom stood a couple of feet behind her with an eager smile. Her eyes looked up at him with… hope? Bucky feels stunned.

“Are- are you the winter soldier, sir?” the high-pitched and nervous voice asked. Bucky was scared to respond, but he looked back at you and you just smiled, nudging him forward.

“Yes, that's me?” bucky bent down to her height, and the little girl's eye lingered on his metal arm. He felt insecure again. “And who are you?”

“My name is lily,” she smiled brightly.

“I’m Bucky,” he said, forcing a small grin. She giggled for apparently no reason, but that was just kids. Her eyes lit up.

“Look,” she said and raised her arm, pulling her sleeves up and bucky’s breath caught in his throat. “We have matching arms.”

Showing bucky a prosthetic arm from her elbow to her hands, “wow.” was all bucky would say. You stood behind him with a smile.

“The boys at school… they make fun of me for it, but my mommy sad you were a superhero and you have one too,” she spoke, bucky wanted to cry. For the girl and whatever bullying she went through (fuck stupid little boys) and because he's never once seen himself as a superhero, not like how Steve or Natasha was. “So I think it's really cool now, I wanna be a superhero just like you.”

Bucky laughed, mostly a nervous laugh. Happiness warmed in his chest and maybe, he was going to explode in this small Starbucks. “Yeah, you can be a superhero. The best.”

“Bucky? Can you sign my arm? I want to show my friends.”

Only now noticing the black sharpie in her hands, bucky contemplates if he's in the twilight zone or something. Glancing back at the mother behind her before taking the sharpie from her, a smile permanently on his face now. “Sure, here?” he looked at the forearm of her prosthetic.

“Yes!” she giggled excitedly and threw her arm in front of him, ever so gently he grabbed it and scribbled his name onto it. He's never practiced his signature - he barely knew cursive anymore but he tried his best. It came out sloppy and a little too big but the girl looked down at it like it was a treasure.

She jumped slightly in her place, “thank you, bucky! Thank you, thank you!” she waved her hands as she ran back to her mother with a skip in her steps, showing her mother the arm, a glint in her eyes and smiling from ear to ear.

Bucky rose to his feet, almost stunned. You had a knowing smirk on your face, pride swelled in your chest for him.

“That just happened?”

“Yes,” you nodded, taking his hand in yours and continuing out the door. The touches of the warmth of the sun hit your face. “I told you the arm was cool.”

Bucky still remembers you telling him that the first time you met, and remembers the world feeling upside down when you did. That moment was only a month or so ago yet it feels like a lifetime has passed. He's grown so much and learned that his past doesn't have to haunt his shoulders forever.

Some insanely genius girl in short skirts taught him that. And now he had her at his side for as long as she will let him. Smiling up at bucky and making his world feel lighter, warmer. Bucky Barnes had a long recovery ahead, and you had a lot more love to give. You'd be there for him in his worst and best moments, constantly lighting him up and helping him see himself as more than a machine.

Because with you he was human, a lover with a cool metal arm.

tags; @matchat3a @sebsgirl71479 @heavenswrld @ivywasmaroon

@nt-multi-fandom @michaelfuckinglangdon@fand0mskullfa1ry

@athenabarnes @almosttoopizza @genlovesdcb

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky fic #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan

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ganymede-princess · 9 months

Text

Vignettes | Robert Capa

Main fic

ship: robert capa X f!oc

warnings: sexual references/very VERY mild smut

summary: a companion piece to Entanglement Theory, this is a collection of scenes that serve as windows into Capa and Doc's relationship.

total word count: 2681

a/n: During the absolute madness and obsession that was the writing of Entanglement Theory, I imagined several scenarios that would not fit into the story. So instead of just letting them fizzle out, I've decided to write them out while I'm still in the depths of my obsession. Treat this as a fluffy little continuation of the previous story; less looming cosmic horror and more slice of life. There may be a sequel to this some time in the future. Also, while searching through Tumblr, I discovered a set of summarised backstories for each of the Icarus crew that were used during the film's production. They hit on the character's views on a few key subjects, so I decided to write one out for Doc.

written by @ganymedeprincess

Waiting Room - word count: 369

"You're nervous."

Capa looks up from his copy of National Geographic, studying me with an unreadable expression. Though the waiting room is slightly too warm, I still shiver at the frosty blue of his eyes as he peers at me through his glasses. I drum my fingers on the copy of Vogue in my lap.

"And you're not?" I flush.

Capa closes his magazine and purses his lips derisively.

"It's just LASIK. It won't hurt."

"I know, I'm a doctor, remember?"

"How could I forget?" The black frames of his glasses dominate his face, almost hiding the amusement in his eyes. I think I'll miss them when they're gone. "And yes, I'm nervous."

"Good. I don't feel so bad about it now."

He almost smiles as he goes back to reading.

"Your hair's getting longer." I bite my cheek.

"Mm." He looks at me from the corner of his eye, thumbing a lock of hair clinging to his neck. "I'm thinking I'll buzz it before departure so I won't have to worry about it haircuts for a few months."

"You'll look like Mace." I giggle.

"I hadn't thought of that." He looks up, narrowing his eyes.

"I wish you two got along better."

"He doesn't exactly make it easy."

"I agree, he can be quite antagonistic." My eyes fall on the fish tank across the room where a clownfish repeatedly prods at a closed anemone. "But you're both excellent scientists, and so interesting in your own ways."

"You like him, don't you?" His blue lantern eyes fall back to the magazine on his lap.

"Sure, he's a good friend." I skirt the obvious double entendre. Capa nods wordlessly. "You could just grow your hair out, y'know."

I hand him my copy of Vogue, folded to a photo of the actor Apollo Chalamet with his long black hair in a ponytail.

"I think it'd suit you."

He studies the page for a moment, and hands it back with a wry smirk.

"Maybe."

"Um, Met-roh-doo-rah?" A young woman in scrubs reads my name from a clipboard.

"Metrodora." I correct her with a smile. "See you after, Capa."

"See you, Metrodora." Capa's crystal eyes glimmer as he teases me. "Break a leg."

Caught - word count: 1990

Gunfire hails from all sides as I crouch run behind Harvey, covering his back as we seek shelter behind a small armored quad. Snow falls and piles up inside the hangar from the hole our magnet bomb ripped in the ceiling, slicking the floor so I have to take care not to slip as we run outside to meet the enemy tank that is rolling in, shifting the snow into dirty brown wakes behind it.

"I don't know why you don't play it in Simulation." Mace sprawls on the end of the lounge, munching a muesli bar. "You guys could afford to break a sweat more often."

"I just came from the gym room, Mace." I scoff as I unload a hail of bullets into the sprocket of the tank.

"Believe it or not, we don't all want the stress of actually being in a war zone." Harvey adds, scaling the side of the huge, silver vehicle with his grappling hook.

"You're not actually-"

"We know!" Harvey snaps.

"Are you just gonna sit there commentating or are you gonna pick up a controller?" Trey climbs up the other side, swinging across to drop a grenade into a porthole on the side of the tank, only for it to fall out of another hole, blowing him to smithereens. "Shit!"

"Nice." I giggle, and jog over to revive him. "You can have mine in a second, I'm gonna go make a cuppa."

Beside me, somebody settles on the arm of the couch. Enraptured by the action on the screen before me, I can't afford to look away.

"That you, Capa?"

"Yeah." His voice rumbles pleasantly, but I keep my eyes on the screen as I break the camera on the front of the tank with my armored forearm.

"Can you put the kettle on, please?"

"Yes, dear." He quips, wandering off.

I scoff, my face flushing with the keen awareness that none of the crew know about our affair. Trey makes a whip cracking sound with his mouth.

"Shut up, Trey!" I clumsily hand my controller to Mace. He snatches it from me a little too aggressively and I glare him down. "Hey!"

"Mmph."

"What's your problem?"

"Nothing." He scowls.

"Look, I don't know why you're so sour but you can't take it out on me." I frown, stalking out of the room.

"What happened?" Capa asks as I arrive in the kitchen. He is perched on the countertop holding a sleeve of saltines.

"What?" I avoid his gaze, knowing the instant I meet his eyes I will be powerless to look away.

"You're upset, what happened?" He taps the back of my leg with his foot. The warmth in his voice lures me into the snare of his vision.

"It's that easy to tell, huh?" His eyes cool the fire in my belly.

"Mm. I can read you." He puts down the saltines and holds out his hands in offering. "What happened?"

"It's Mace." I give him my hands sidle in between his knees. "He snapped at me for no reason."

"I'll kill him." Capa's jaw tightens.

"Thanks." I peck his cheek. "Do you know what's upsetting him?"

"You think it's my fault?" He frowns.

"No. I just thought you might know."

"Could be anything." He shakes his head, eyes sharp with annoyance. "I will kill him if you want me to."

"Mm." I smile, tuck my arms around him and lay my head on his chest, reveling in his warmth.

"Look at me." Capa rewards my obedience with a kiss.

It begins gently enough, his huge, rough hands cradling my face while his lips barely brush against mine. Greedily, I press forward to deepen the kiss, but he breaks away to look at me.

"I haven't seen you much today." He smooths my hair down. "I've missed you."

"Me too." I cradle his face in my hands and watch as he lets out a shuddering breath. "I wish we had more chances to work together."

"I'll see if I can move around the chores roster next week." He nuzzles my hand. "Hopefully we can line our break times up as well so we can go and hang out in the Earth Room."

"That'd be great." I press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and nudge his nose with mine, silently pleading him to kiss me again.

He takes pity on my desperation, kissing me deeply. I part my lips and his tongue slips into my mouth, swirling a heady vortex of sensation that reverberates through every inch of me. Helpless and at his mercy, I try desperately to push closer to him, to feel his taut muscles beneath his shirt and-

Somebody clears their throat.

"Jesus!" I leap back from him, sending my empty cup scuttling across the floor. "Searle, I-"

"Searle, it's not-"

Searle puts his hand up to silence us.

"Congratulations." He rolls his eyes, pushing past me to grab some decaf. "Just, don't do that in the kitchen, yeah?"

Desperately, I look to Capa who has surreptitiously covered his lap with a tea-towel and the Saltines. In spite of my burning embarrassment, I stifle a laugh.

"Searle, listen-" Capa begins.

"No, you listen." Searle pours his coffee. "I'm not going to tell on you, but I do want to have a talk with both of you about the implications of this situation. Now, I suggest you go have a cold shower, separately, and meet me in my office in thirty minutes."

Searle slinks away, leaving Capa and I in stunned silence. I bury my face in my hands and sigh. Capa hops down from the counter and rubs my shoulder then wordlessly guides me to the bathrooms.

****

Capa and I reconvene outside Searle's office. I wring my hands, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be scared." He murmurs. "It's only Searle."

"I don't know why I feel like I've done something wrong." I confess, anxiety rising like bile in my chest.

Capa glances up and down the hallway, tilts my face up to look at him for a moment, then pulls me into a hug.

"I'm not feeling great about it, either," He admits, stroking my hair. "But we're gonna go in there and hear him out, then we'll decide what to do."

"I guess it was always gonna come to this."

"Mm." Capa breaks the embrace. "C'mon."

As we enter his office, Searle looks up from his book and places it face down on his desk. I notice it's old and tattered, and titled Children of Men.

"Glad you both could make it." He swivels his chair around as he greets us. "You look like a pair of kids in the principal's office. Try not to feel so tense, I'm here to help."

Capa and I sit down in silence. I want the comfort of his hand in mine, but somehow it feels wrong to do it in front of Searle.

"So, do either of you have anything to say, or will I start things off?"

Capa and I exchange a glance. I shake my head. Capa looks as if he is about to say something, but he bites his lip and stays silent.

"Alright." Searle raises his eyebrows. "I guess I'll just get it out of the way and say that I've known about you two for a while."

"How...?" Capa frowns as we exchange a glance.

"Well, you're not exactly subtle about it, are you?" He sculls the last of his decaf and winces. "God, I miss real coffee. Anyway, I know you're trying to hide it, but I don't know how long you expect that to last."

"We're just worried about how everyone's going to take it." I wring my hands.

"I wouldn't worry about that. Whatever tensions come up can be ironed out with a mediator." Searle's face softens. "But we need to think about whether you should tell anyone at all. I suggest you tell Kaneda, so he can work with me to reduce friction if things get hairy between the two of you."

"I can't imagine that happening." Capa says.

"Well, you think that now, but it's not always that straightforward. For instance, if this is just a friends with benefits situation, I think you ought to keep it to yourselves until it fizzles out; but beyond that, you should consider the risks. We're going to be stuck here for another two years at least, so it'll be hard on all of us if things go wrong between you two."

I look over at Capa and he offers me his hand. After a moment of hesitation, I take it.

"It's not like that for us." He assures him.

"It didn't just happen overnight." I squeeze his hand. "Well, it kind of did, but it was a long time coming."

"You're really serious about this, huh? I figured as much." Searle grins at Capa. "You've been smiling so much, it was kinda scaring me."

Capa rolls his eyes, a warm tint rising on his cheeks

"Doctor Aldrin," Searle addresses me directly, suddenly serious. "I want to make it clear to you that I don't doubt your ability to carry out your medic and psych duties under these circumstances, but I think it would be in everyone's best interests if you're no longer assigned as mediator in conflicts involving Capa."

"I agree. I'll be the first to admit I have a bias here. I guess I didn't take my training seriously enough."

"Training isn't perfect." He assures me. "You can try to rationalize your feelings away, but it won't work. It can't work. People are built to love. We do it to survive, so really, it's going to happen whether it's convenient or not."

I turn to look at Capa, feeling sunshine beaming into me from his radiant blue eyes. He offers me a smile and runs his thumb over my knuckles.

"So what should we do moving forward?" He presses.

"Well that's up to you. You can take people aside and tell them if you feel that's going to be beneficial, or you can just start acting like a couple and the crew will figure it out themselves. You could even call a meeting, sit everyone down real serious." Searle chuckles. "Either way, I imagine you'll get a little pushback to begin with."

"From Mace?" Capa asks.

"Yes, I expect he'll argue that a relationship between you two will distract you from the mission, but ultimately jealously on his and Cassie's part will be contributing factors."

"Cassie? Jealous?" I gasp.

I have worked with Cassie often during our voyage through the solar system, and over that time I've grown to enjoy our time together and to admire her free spirit. Despite this, I have sensed a distance between her and I, and now I know why. Mace, on the other hand, wears his heart on his sleeve. I have long known of his feelings for me, and for a time I tried to see him in the same light that he sees me. At the time, it seemed that my fondness for Capa was nothing short of futile, but even in my hopelessness, I knew that Mace and I would never work together.

"Yes, she's come to me several times to discuss her feelings for Capa." Searle frowns sympathetically. "I've done my best to help her cope without encouraging her. I feel that your relationship will be a tough hurdle for her to get over, but I think it will help her to build resilience. Same with Mace. It's quite tragic, really. They want you, and you want each other."

Feeling more than a little morose, I glance at Capa and squeeze his hand. He understands my signal and clears his throat.

"Thanks for the advice, Searle." The men exchange a handshake in mutual admiration.

"Thank you." I peck him on the cheek, earning a delighted grin. "Your opinion is invaluable."

Doc's Character Profile - word count: 322

Metrodora "Doc" Aldrin - Medic

Nationality - Australian

Doc grew up academically gifted, graduating from highschool at fifteen and moving to the United States to study medicine in the Ivy League at her parents' behest. Pursuing her childhood fascination with space, she went on to specialise in aeronautical medicine, eventually gaining a position in the same research lab as Searle where they became fast friends.

Doc was too young to accompany the first Icarus mission, but in the years following, she became obsessed with space travel and sought out a position on the Icarus II.

Seeing her passion and potential as an asset on board, Searle helped her mask her anxiety and depression during the psychiatric evaluation, vowing to help her overcome her issues in the years they would spend living together.

Doc holds a maternal view of her crewmates, despite being the youngest on board. She makes a point of fostering personal bonds with each of the crew, both to keep tabs on their health and because she craves human connection. She loves her crew like family and hopes that during the mission they with both grow as people, and grow to appreciate eachother the way she does.

Though she does not consider herself a natural conversationalist, she often draws closed-off people out of their shells due to her willingness to share personal feelings and experiences with people soon after meeting them. It is this mutual honesty that both Mace and Capa fell for, though Mace's feelings come from being listened to, while Capa's come from the act of listening.

Doc lives happily without religion, feeling comfortable that her success is self-made and her fate is in her own hands. The closest thing to God in her eyes is the life-giving power of the sun. As Icarus draws closer to the sun's surface, she wonders if this comparison is still metaphorical.

At night she dreams of the vastness of space, and of Capa.

#sunshine (2007)#sunshine #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #robert capa x oc #robert capa x reader #robert capa

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raspberry-dounut · 8 months

Note

hihi!! I saw adventure time on your fandoms list and was wondering if we could get anything about lee!simon? (once the curse is gone.) he's so silly and it would mean a lot

Nightmares

[TW: intense nightmares, references to PTSD, a& grief. And also, this is a tickle fic, so if this made its way into the main tags somehow, then I suggest you don’t read it if you’re not into that stuff XD]

Simon jolted awake, taking deep gasps of the cool night air in a shitty effort to stifle a scream. His heart was still pounding in his ears despite how quickly his breathing had returned to normal. It had been a nightmare, as it usually was, but this one felt different. He didn't want to remember it, but somehow he just couldn't shake it.

His heart sank into his stomach momentarily- he’d sworn he’d seen Betty, if just for a second.

“You guys… are still awake?” He was still a bit disoriented from his nightmare, but he thought he recognized those voices. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit barn, he could make out the shapes of Fionna and Cake, still awake and engaged in conversation.

“Well… yeah?” Fionna’s eyebrows furrowed as she awkwardly offered an answer.

“We wouldn’t expect you to understand, though. You’re old.” Cake chimed in with a shit-eating grin, completely endorsed in the game she had stolen from Fionna hours earlier.

“What were you dreaming about anyways?” She added, nonchalantly. “Getting it on with someone?”

The snide remark caught the older man a little off guard, as he found himself looking away to hide a deep red blush “Uhhh… I don’t really wanna talk about it, it’s- it’s private.”

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and the two of them exchanged a quick glance. It was clear something was bothering him, and neither of them were too keen on being left out of the loop.

“Suit yourself.” The cat shrugged.

“Was it a good dream or a bad one?" Fionna asked tentatively, her tone soft in a way Simon had never heard her use before. She was always the brash one, but something about the look in his eyes must have compelled her to be gentler.

“It’s— I don’t…” he started. All words seemed to fail Simon as he desperately searched for an answer

“it’s complicated.” Is what he settled on, trying in vein to hold off the weeping that usually followed after such intense dreams.

Fionna's eyes widened suddenly, but her expression quickly softened.

"Hey... it's okay. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," she said, taking a step towards him. His reaction to her and Cake's joking response told her everything she needed to know about how serious the dream must have been.

“No, I—“ he knew keeping secrets from his (begrudging) teammates was useless. It would only make things worse for the trio as a unit in the long run. So he tried- he tried despite his distraught to explain it.

“When you get older… you, uh… sometimes we- I… my fiancé and I—“

“Woah!” Cake snickered and hummed a tune that resembled something you’d hear in a low budget rom com during a particularly spicy scene. “I didn’t think someone as boring and mundane as you would have fiancé!!”

Fionna merely needed to cast a gaze over her shoulder and Cake knew to drop the subject.

“Cake! That’s not funny!” Fionna snapped, though she knew she was partly to blame. She was never one to have a filter, knowing full well that most of Cake’s current habits could be easily traced back to herself. “What were they like?”

“No, it’s okay. She… was wonderful.” he said, almost dreamily. There was a clear passion and affection in his voice for whoever this mysterious woman was. “I still remember what cake toppers Betty and I wanted for our wedding!! And—“

“Simon!”

“Hm?”

“You’re crying!”

"I am?" With little hesitation, he let his fingers connect to under his left eye. His fingertips made contact with warm water. It was a shock at first, but given that Fiona had called him out on his sudden eruption of tears, he didn't jump at that. Still, it was a shock nonetheless. Weakly, he muttered out in a croak after his mind realized he was tearing up. "Oh... I am."

“Um, maybe we can ask big hunky Finn for some water? Or like, an extra blanket?” Fionna offered, racking her brain for a solution. Comforting someone who had clearly undergone some intense trauma wasn’t something in her toolbox- let alone said person being older in age.

Fionna attempted to wipe the tears away from Simon’s face, desperate to clear away his sadness and provide some comfort in a moment of pain. But the tears were streaming down his cheeks too rapidly, making it impossible for her to keep up with them. Despite her repeated efforts, his tears continued to fall, each one slipping past her fingertips and adding to the pool gathering in the crease of his chin.

“No, no it’s okay really… I think we’re overstaying our welcome, anyways.” He offered her a small smile- one that was cheaply sewn together with what little sanity he had left in his grief.

All she could do was look at him with concern. The years that had gone by showed in his features, bringing a deep sorrow with them. The events of his life were like a war zone within his eyes, the tears that stained them telling her the story of his pain.

“Oh! Hey!” Cake’s face lit up as the lightbulb went off in her head, evident in the face she made “you humans like to be pet too, right? You evolved from monkeys, yeah? So there you go!”

“Uhhh…” It was awkward- that was for sure. He often found himself forgetting that, as far as Cake was aware, all she’d ever known was the life of a domesticated pet. An animal companion that was doomed to tight collars and comedic holiday costumes, stuck within the confines of an apartment.

“Umm… n-no thanks, I’ll pass. I think I’m—“

A weight hit his lap, and Simon flinched halfway between a startle and being winded by the force, proving to him once again how old he truly was. Turning to glare at the source he found Cake sitting squarely in his lap. Simon looked down at the cat, completely confused and slightly annoyed. He was still a bit jittery from his nightmare- and her sudden self-invitation into his lap caught him heavily off guard.

“Humans don’t work that way- I mean, at least the humans in my time don’t...” He laughed a little, though it was exasperated one that held no humour, as he was once again reminded of the differences between the world he knew, and the one he was living in. “Our nerves are a lot different than yoURS—“

“Wahahahait!!” His attempted explanation fell on deaf ears as Cake had already taken matters into her own paws. When he instinctively jerked back, she swore he was an expert at exaggerating his reactions- being stroked was a clear sign of endearment to someone like her, and he’d ought to be glad she was showing him such appreciation.

“C’mon, I’m not hurting you!” Judging by the accusing glare he gave and the slightly different tinge of honey-coloured skin beneath his eyes. He was fine.

“Y-You’re not hurting me!” His face crumpled, eyes closed and smiling, as he tried to get a hold of himself. “You’re tickling me! Stoohahahaaop!”

“The humans from your world are so melodramatic!” Cake shook her head.

“stahahahap— hahahaa!! Yohohou ahahahahaasshohohohole!!” He squirmed, giggling in spite of his frustrated facade, his legs kicking softly beneath her hold as Cake's paws worked their magic- Being sprawled out on the wooden floor of someone’s barn, whilst fighting a losing battle with a magical cat wasn’t the best look for him, and definitely wasn’t a one he could pull off.

When the feline struck a particularly sensitive spot, he nearly screamed; it was half way between someone who’d been startled, and someone who just realized how truly sensitive they were- knees bucking upwards instinctively and just about hitting cake in the chin; had it not been for her new luck of the draw abilities. Despite his pleas, both Fionna and Cake both took note of the fact that he didn’t do much to stop his playful attacker.

Cake didn’t listen- mostly out of spite that he’d nearly kicked her, but mostly because his body language didn’t appear to show discomfort. Tutting, she then used her leg to hold down his hips. Being of feline heritage, Cake knew firsthand how awful it was to have one’s personal bubble violated, and if Simon was truly as uneasy as he’d claimed, she would have backed off; spiteful or not.

Instead, she snickered and danced her fingertips up and down the antiquarian’s sides.

"Oh nohohoaaaahahahaa!! Oh m-my gohohohoad!!” Simon hadn’t laughed openly in so long- too long. The sound coming out of his mouth was so foreign to his own ears and he couldn't recall the last time he’d laughed at all. Let alone like this; unrestrained, loud, and so completely genuine.

“Alright alright! I’m done.” She announced in triumph once she had deduced that he’d had enough.

When Cake had finally let up, Simon took the opportunity to enjoy the air- missing its presence and sucking it greedily into his lungs. Each breath he took felt sweeter than the last and after getting his fill of air, he finally sat up again.

“Are you okay?” Fionna inquired, putting a hand on his shoulder. He smiled back at her- and for once, in what felt like years, he could say that he was at peace; if just for a little while. “Do you feel… at least a bit better?”

“Yeah, yeah- I’m okay.” He offered her an answer and the girl smiled in return. He was still a bit giggly from the sudden attack but this time there was no forcing it, no faking the joy- and she was content with that answer in the moment. “I’m okay.”

It wouldn’t cure him, no. But at least it offered him some sort of temporary peace. Something that would last twenty four hours, if he was lucky- and realistically; a break, no matter how small, was something he needed.

“Get some sleep- some proper sleep!” Fionna hissed, grinning.

“Because you’re old!” Cake added.

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes, the smile never leaving his face as he waved them off, speaking volumes on what he thought of their cheap jokes. He’d clearly eased up a little. They were right- he was feeling exhausted.

With a relaxed sigh, he settled back against the barn wall, closing his eyes and releasing a long breath as his muscles eased. His head began to tilt as he fought the urge to doze off momentarily, but soon the battle was lost and his chin rested against his chest.

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t0ast-ghost · 2 months

Text

OOOOHHH SOMEONES IN TROUBLE… Episode 21 (Court Martial):

- what… what is a commodore? What does this role mean?

- guys guys guys. Listen. He just got a little too silly

- McCoy doesn’t want Jim getting in ANOTHER bar fight

- Damn only Bones is on Kirk’s side here (and Spock obviously)

- The lawyer has a weirdly similar name to my own and it’s throwing me off

- Spock believing in Kirk so absolutely… goddamn

- WHY IS MCCOY SITTING LIKE THAT. WITH THOSE BOOTS

- I like that they finally brought to notice how awkward all the certificate and award readings are

- IT WAS FLASHING RED LIGHTS FOR THE PAST COUPLE MINUTES OF THE VIDEO. You can see it CLEARLY reflected in hair! The emergency WAS engaged

- forgot I needed subtitles again :(

- Literally just mention chess. They’ll know what to do once you mention chess.

- Classic Bones and Spock fight… just kiss or smt

- Mr lawyer sir, just say that the computer is faulty… lead with that

- “white noise device” that is a microphone

- “Mr Spock eliminate his heartbeat” WHAT

- “beaten and sobbing” Kirk what did you do to him???

- “she’s a very good lawyer” McCoy and Spock just look away.

Episode 22 (The Return Of The Archons):

- Those first couple of lines seem like bad ADR

- WAIT wait wait SULU NO- damn he’s mind controlled …

- THE OUTFITS OH MY-

- Kirk waking up his boyfriends

- “Landru will know, they will come” https://youtu.be/GM1nBnksCoU?si=3D1hdDik9upaU088

youtube

- “THIS IS MY BOOM STICK” basically the- the sticks that the- yeah.. EVIL DEAD REFERENCE

- I can’t remember if I’m remembering this right but is Landru an evil computer?

- nap time! They’re just a bit sleepy

-so another being that wants to assimilate.. I sense a theme in these shows…

- “Evidently a maximum security establishment” the walls are rocks, the floors are rocks, there’s space to move around, and torches.. maximum security top ‘o the shelf

- McCoy’s southern accent coming out (maybe I just do not notice it?)

- Kirk and Spock look so sad when Spock concludes he’s become like how they saw Sulu

- Kirk’s little worried outburst and Spock sitting down with McCoy…

- I’d like to submit this image to the press

- Spock’s smug little smirk when he’s pretending to be mind controlled wtf

- “Be wary of Doctor McCoy” McCoy proceeds to stand up behind them and peek over their shoulders

- goddamn McCoy’s eyes can look scary. ‘Specially when he’s pointing and yelling at you

- SPOCK NOT AFRAID TO PUNCH A BITCH

- Spock is so fine in the suit with no jacket… what who said that

- LMAO ITS THE BLOCKY COMPUTER

- Are they gonna paradox kill him? Yeah they’re gonna paradox kill him

- okay great they killed him… where’s McCoy

- “and Mr Sulu is back to normal” then Sulu does a little double arm shrug and it’s amazing

Okay guess we’re leaving that one without any other updates on McCoy… I live in perpetual sorrow

Master post

#Youtube #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek tos #star trek kirk #tos kirk #captain james kirk #star trek spock #tos spock #spock #star trek bones #star trek mccoy #tos bones #tos mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #star trek sulu #tos sulu #hikaru sulu

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hotcat37 · 8 months

Text

Personified Käärijä songs

just for fun I decided to give personality traits to some Käärijä bangers <3 I based these entirely off of lyrics and vibes :0 Completely okay if anyone gets different vibes from them this is just how I see them :3

Kovis: -very confrontational, prone to getting into fights -will protecc and attacc 💪💪 -he's not the 'Kovis' the song is referring to because he's genuinely sweet and doesn't start conflicts but he is easily provoked -dresses like a frat bro -probably peaked in highschool Morgan: -often disoriented in time and space -prone to nausea -intelligent but doesn't make very good decisions -has a constant sense of remorse even when he doesn't really remember anything the 'morning after' (after drinking, partying) -is close with Kovis! Käärijä Cha Cha Cha: -quite shy and stoic at first -once he breaks out of his shell he's absolutely insane -has seemingly unlimited amounts of energy, can keep dancing all day and night -very charming but also somewhat unsettling -has extreme claustrophobia (do NOT put him in a box!!!) It's Crazy It's Party: -wears mysteriously blood stained clothes -a bit hypersexual, can't stop cracking sex jokes -likes to hang out in forests at night -avoids contact with CCC Käärijä as much as possible -has the worst English out of all the Kä's Välikuolema: -sleep deprived and usually a bit drunk -only wears oversized hoodies and track pants -easily cracks under peer pressure -is the guy who calls taxis for his drunk friends, he himself tends to just pass out in someone's backyard -you can only wake him up by screaming HERÄÄ!!! at him Urheilujätkä: -very athletic despite his height -the least unsettling of the Kä's -he is the most sweaty of them though -kind of a himbo, he excels in physical activity but not much else -is always extremely happy to see Jesse Hiirtä Kiinii: -actually not that prone to anger but once he's pushed over the edge he's very destructive -has constant bad luck -the most normal of the Käärijä's, just wants to get through the day -needs caffeine to function in the morning -takes vitamins designed for children because he likes the flavor Yhtä Vailla: -has a raspy voice because of how much he tends to scream in frustration -do NOT give this man any money, except for maybe claw machines 'cause he's pretty good at those -Africa by Toto is his special song and he'll murmur the lyrics to it completely unprompted -optimistic to a delusional degree -bro just needs to get a job honestly Mic Mac: -the only Käärijä that looks like his yellow era (lanky with brown hair) -his pockets are full of stolen Pokémon cards -is very nervous and doesn't say much (he doesn't want to be charged for his petty Habbo Hotel crimes) -definitely twirls the phone chord around his finger when he's calling someone -either wears the yellow suit or just Mic Mac pants with no shirt Siitä Viis: -his mascara is in a constant state of smudged -prone to heavy mood swings, usually switching between furious and sad -has trust issues, it's hard to get him to open up -eats ice cream and watches anime to cope -don't set him off or he will rant angrily for hours

#Käärijä #Käärijä personified #I'll make it a tag cuz I plan on drawing them too :)#mic mac #välikuolema #kovis #Not tagging all of them tho lol #Tag yourself I'm Mic Mac

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allzelemonz · 11 months

Text

Romeo and Tybalt: Sean MacGuire X Male Reader

Pronouns: he/him, Reader is referred to as ‘man’ and ‘lad’. Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: M/Smut, violence Warnings: Sean never shuts up, Sean is loud during sex, top Reader and bottom Sean, Reader is an O’Driscoll, smut, anal fingering, handjob, anal sex, kissing, marking, yes the title is a Shakespeare reference Summary: Being stuck in a cell with a member of a rival gang doesn’t turn out how you might expect.

That idiot that got you caught is going to pay when you get back to camp. Billy was never very bright but he could’ve at least stayed and fought. It’s in the past now, you’re stuck in a cell and there’s not much you can do other than relax on the bench and wait for an opportunity.

“Come on ya filthy pigs!” A man yells from upstairs. “Ya cowards can’t handle me without tyin’ my hands.”

The stairs creak as the deputies bring him down the stairs. Gray suit, red hair, unmistakably that Irish idiot that runs with the Van der Lindes. MacGuire, if you remember right. You know he’ll see the bandana around your neck that they didn’t bother to take, an almost universal sickly shade of green that identifies your loyalties to Colm O’Driscoll. They’re rough with him, much more than they were with you. Probably because he has yet to shut his mouth.

“Ya ain’t gonna hold me long, boys.” He says as they untie his wrists and shove him inside.

They rush up the stairs and lock the door behind them, not interested in dealing with the mouthy outlaw any more than they have to. His gaze wanders to you and it lands on your bandana quicker than you thought.

“O’Driscoll.” He hisses.

“Van der Linde.” You state plainly.

“Fuck off.”

You laugh a little at that. “Straight to the point then?”

“Yer sick fuckin’ dogs, the lot a’ ya.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the wall.

“Just making money. We are outlaws after all, MacGuire.”

“Course ya know my name. Probably got little spies everywhere.”

You shake your head. “You’re just stupid enough to make yourself known.”

“Stupid, am I?” He chuckles. “Me?”

You smile. “Never met a bigger idiot.”

“Oh, fuck off, fuckin’ O’Driscoll.”

“Make me.”

He stands up straight. “I just might.”

You sigh, standing from your somewhat comfortable spot. “Come on then, Van der Linde. Let’s get this over with.”

He runs at you and you catch him, forcing him back against the wall. You grapple for a bit before he manages to knock you on the ground but you pull him down and get over him, beginning to land blows to his face. He catches your wrist and you can feel his breathing beneath you. Against your better judgment, you stop and sit back on the floor to let him sit up. He glares at you, a hand cupping his jaw.

“You gonna shut up now?” You ask, catching your breath.

“Lucky I don’t got a gun, O’Driscoll.”

You groan, leaning back against the wall. “We’re gonna be in here for a whole night, MacGuire. Let’s forget the O’Driscoll versus Van der Linde before we kill each other.”

He laughs. “‘Fraid I’ll best ya next time, are ya?”

“Just don’t wanna deprive the town of a good hanging.”

He shakes his head. “Suppose we could go without bein’ at each other's throats.”

“Say that again.”

“What?” He asks, looking up at you.

“Throat. Say it again.”

“Fuck off.” He waves, turning so he can lean against the opposite wall.

You chuckle. “I’ve heard plenty of Irishmen in the gang, but they don’t say it like that.”

“O’Driscoll’s ain’t worthy a’ bein’ Irish.”

You put your hands up. “Fine, fine. Whatever you say, MacGuire.”

“Sean.” He says. “Call me Sean.”

You give him your name and it sounds strange when he says it, not the accent but the fact that a Van der Linde knows your name now.

“So what did you do, Sean?”

“Bounty hunters.” Sean groans. “Bloody army of ‘em. You?”

“Friend got in a fight, ran off.”

“O’Driscolls.” Sean laughs, shaking his head.

“Billy’s not so bad. Dumb but not a bad guy.”

“An O’Driscoll not bein’ a bad guy? I find that a little hard ta believe.”

You laugh lightly. “Fair enough.”

Sean looks over you. “Ya don’t seem so bad, I suppose.”

“Is that right?”

He shuffles, leaning his head back against the wall. “Easy on tha eyes at least.”

You sit forward, looking over Sean. He’s not bad looking for a Van der Linde, definitely better than most of the O’Driscoll boys. He has a bruise forming on his jaw, but other than that he has a softened edge about him.

“You’re not bad yourself.” You mutter.

Sean tilts his head forward again, meeting your eyes. “Damn good chance we’re both hanged tomorrow.”

You nod. “Very good chance, yeah.”

He clears his throat. “It’d, uh, it’d be a shame to waste our last night. Wouldn’t ya say?”

“Scandalous, Sean.”

He grins, scrambling over to you. “I don’t really bloody care.”

He presses your lips together as he settles himself in your lap. His hands hold your face as your rest on his waist, happy to let him do the work. It doesn’t take long at all before his hips rub against you and he tries to make friction for himself.

“I think you like the scandal, Van der Linde.” You whisper.

He hums, more focused on trying to feel something good. You push him back roughly so he lands on the ground and your hands make quick work of his pants. Sean scrambles to get his shirt off as you undress yourself. He pulls you on top of him so he can kiss you and run his hands over your bare chest. You bring your hand down to tease him, slowly stroking him and earning a moan. He brings a hand to his mouth and sucks at his fingers before he lifts his hips so he can prepare himself. You’re content to watch him for a minute before you press encouraging kisses to his neck, making sure to leave a few marks for him to remember.

“Fuck me good, will ya, O’Driscoll?” He says, a groan to his voice as he fucks himself on his fingers.

“You want that, Van der Linde?” You smirk, looking down at him as he squirms from the squeeze you give his dick. “You wanna get fucked on a cell floor by a member of a rival gang?”

“God, yes.” Sean moans, removing his fingers so he can pull you closer.

“Not afraid of what your boss’ll say?” You ask as you spit on your hand to slick yourself up before aligning with him.

Sean laughs. “Are you, big man?”

You chose not to answer because it’s very much a yes. Colm would shoot you the second he found out. You’d be a traitor. So you focus on the needy man beneath you and slowly push inside. He squirms, so you hold his hips. He wines, so you move one hand to cover his mouth.

“Fuck, O’Driscoll.” He pants when you remove your hand. “Fuck do ya feel good.”

You lean down and kiss Sean to keep him quiet as you move your hips at a quick pace. You can feel his little whines against your mouth with every move you make so you only give him the occasional second to catch his breath. He starts to move with you, his hips meeting yours in time and you bring your hand down to jerk him at the same pace. The slick feeling, the little noises he makes, fucking Sean MacGuire may be a death sentance if your gang ever finds out but it is one of the best decisions you’ve ever made.

“Be quiet now, Van der Linde.” You whisper in his ear. “Don’t want the law to hear.”

Sean bites back a moan as you continue to slam into him. He wants to say something witty back, but he’ll scream if he does. He’s dizzy, utterly blissed, and close to his end. When suck another mark into his neck he cums with a hand over his mouth to stay quiet. You keeping pounding into him, fucking him for all he’s worth as he becomes more sensitive and he has to really hold his hand in place to keep the whines in. You bite at his skin lightly as you release, filling Sean entirely. He squirms under you, finally removing his hand and sighing in relief as you slide out of him.

He laughs, his hand slicking back his sweaty hair. “We can’t die now, we gotta do tha’ again.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips and he gladly returns with the same lasting gentleness. Then you pull away and sit back, letting Sean sit up with you.

“No one can know.” You say with a serious tone. “Colm would kill me.”

Sean’s smile falls. “So I’m just a quick fuck?” He asks. “Tha’ sure felt like more than a quick fuckin’ fuck!”

You shush him, glancing back at the stairs. “It wasn’t. I want to do this again. As much as I hate you Van der Lindes, I want to do this again.”

He relaxes slightly. “Come with me then.”

“Just ‘cause I wanna fuck you again doesn’t mean I’m betraying my gang, MacGuire.” You snap, then you take a breath. “I like you, but the O’Driscolls are my life.”

“I think ya wanna do more than just fuck me, big man.” Sean laughs, bringing himself closer to you. “I got a sense fer these things.”

You put a hand in his hair, tugging him towards you for a kiss, soft like the last one. “We gotta get out of here first.”

“Worry about tha’ later.” Sean says, climbing into your lap again. “I’m good fer another go.”

You smile as he kisses you again, a little more hungry this time. Your hand tangles more into his hair as you feel yourself hardening again. Then gunshots from upstairs make you both freeze. Both of you know what they likely mean, a breakout. You scramble for your clothes as Sean does the same, managing to get them on before two masked men come down the stairs.

“Sean? Ya down here?” One of them calls.

Sean rushes to the bars, his pants only halfway buttoned. You move slowly, acting natural and sitting back on the bench as you were when Sean first came. In your hand you hold your green bandana and you slowly stuff it into your pocket as a larger man with long hair comes to the cell.

“Let's get you out of here.” He says, looking over the key ring.

“A sight fer sore eyes, Charles.”

More shots ring out and you can hear a few familiar shouts from outside.

“You should hurry.” You say to Sean.

Charles opens the door and nods to you. “Who’s your friend, Sean?”

“He ain’t a friend.” He grins at you. “Ya heard the lad, let’s go.”

Sean pulls his friend up the stairs and you hold your breath, waiting for more shots. They never come, just footsteps running down the stairs. You stand and meet the familiar O’Driscoll faces, Billy at the front. At least he came back for you. At least he didn’t see Sean.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #sean macguire #sean macguire x reader #sean macguire x male reader

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fumifooms · 6 months

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You mentioned being open to marchil fodder, right? Well, let me ask you this how do you think these dysfunctionally functional lil guys would handle one or the other being sick, not with anything major but like a light flu or cold type situation.

Yanno things with chil kinda parenting marcille a bit or marcille lowkey panicking like chil is gonna die but he won't. What's your take on it since it's a common hurt comfort type premise?

Thank you for the ask!! I’m gonna start by talking about the clues that canon gives us because I have no self-control, but you can also just skip to the hc part and you wouldn’t miss anything about the meat of the topic heh~ Both of them would handle it really differently, both surprisingly well and surprisingly not

On Chilchuck’s side:

Chilchuck does have some nursing in him, but usually in small, casual ways, like how this dad compilation of him shows lol. He has no problem helping his party members around, and even scolding Marcille and warning her not to work herself sick. But, if he worries he tends to suppress it/not show it, and overall he’s pretty nonchalant over it. As seen with Marcille being hangover, unlike Laios he’s not worried over it at all and preaches the good old method of "drink water and rest!". I think he’d be a rather by the book caretaker, would do all the classic things for someone who has a cold. It bears remembering that Chilchuck is a father, a father of three even. Even if I’m sure he tended to leave most of it to his wife, he’s no stranger to loved ones being sick with colds and such, and would know the basics of homely nursing. With the second page I put above, I wanted to show though that while I think he certainly can nurse, he tends to leave that to others. When Marcille is out of mana, he stays out of the way rather than doing things for her. He’s someone big about roles, "My job is the rogue so don’t expect me to fight I’m here to help you get around, also no talking I’m just here for my job" "you’re the healer so get to safety because if you die we’re fucked" etc etc, and I think he tends to relay the responsibility of caring after someone sick onto others he thinks are more suited to it. Though as we see with his dad moment compilations, it’s not like he doesn’t feel the urge to care after people at all.

In this last picture, he leaves the comforting to others, which he probably think are "more suited for it" besides just being "yikes I’m staying out of that", much like Izutsumi here. He tries staying out of emotional talks.

There’s also a fun scene where Chilchuck is like "Healers having to be so in contact with people is a problem you know, it complicates relationships and is bad for a party". Take that as you will for how he likes/dislikes being nursed, though in this case he’s mostly referring to the touch aspect of it in a social situation with a group.

On Marcille’s side:

Whereas Chilchuck is pretty laissez-faire and competent though somewhat stays distant, Marcille would fuss and do too much.

Interestingly, Marcille is rather desensitized to wounded people. She’s also not shown worrying over her party members when they’re hurting over "recovery pangs". She’s shown healing Chilchuck a couple of times.

What’s interesting in her case is that she’s a healer, she’s very familiar with treating wounds and injuries with magic, but magic doesn’t heal illnesses much. Which, illnesses would def be a source of existential despair for her with her trauma, so I definitely can see her stressing over it a lot.

All that to say that she’s no stranger to nursing people, just not in the way that would really matter when it comes to treating a cold instead of a broken bone. On top of that, she’s a mom friend that naturally seeks to care after her loved ones, nurse them and take care of them. She’s shown being a real worry wart, fussing over Falin, from the time when she thinks Falin got stolen away by Laios to mid-canon, and we see that habit of caring after others with Izutsumi too. The only times that can qualify as her taking care of someone sick I think would be Laios with his kraken parasite, which since she could just physically heal the wounds it left she didn’t stress over it much, and with her dad which she was too young to really do anything about.

All that to say that unlike Chilchuck, the caring role suits her just fine, and that unlike him she STRESSES. She has the best of intentions, but she can try to do too much or go about it in a clumsy way, tends to be overbearing.

Headcanons time!

If Chilchuck was sick:

Since Marcille is shown to have some misconception about short-lived races/half-foots in canon, I def think it’d be possible for her to be like "half-foots have a frail health!! Even this cold might be grave!!! AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" but I think that in that case, she’d run everywhere, getting him a cold compress and buying him the best quality take-out food and throwing herself at the feet of his bed sobbing and Chilchuck as soon as he’d pick up on it, while his snot goes everywhere and he looks 10 years older from his eyebags and his voice is raspy and he’s feeling dizzy from the fever, he’d explain that he’ll get over it soon and there’s no reason to overly worry about it, "so just get me some soup or something". And Marcille would go "Well you SAY that but you’re known to not take care of yourself enough and make yourself work too hard so I can’t trust you on this", but he’d be serious and comforting about it so she’d eventually relent and be more chill about it. But she’d still 100% take the day off from work to stay with him as much as possible, and would be ready at any second to jump to fulfill his every request. It’d end up being a pretty cozy day. She’d sleep hunched over the foot of his bed/his side or leaning back in a chair in the corner of the bedroom with a blanket. If it’s that bad, she’d stay awake and change his cold compress every hour or so and dab the sweat off of his skin with a damp rag. She’d stare at his sleeping face a lot, tired and worried but also feeling comforted at watching him breathe. Maybe in the dead of night after a day of caring after him frantically, she’d muse about illness and how fragile life can be, how there are bumps in the road and things can go unexpectedly, but it’d be like pressing on a bruise for her instead of sharp stabs, and she’d push the thoughts back, holding his hand for her own sake.

She’d 100% tuck him in and take some enjoyment from getting to nurse him too. Since Chilchuck doesn’t like showing his needs, being vulnerable or relying on others much she really doesn’t get to treat him in such an overtly caring way like this, his pride gets in the way of that. She’d spoonfeed him his soup and Chil would ONLY mildly complain. She’d rub his back as he pukes in a bucket, while he fumes at having her seeing him like this, like a mess. Can’t very well keep his usual bravado of cool and composed in such a situation, and he’d grumble and be frustrated about it. Marcille resists the urge to give him pecks-kisses to not get sick too. That has to happen at least once in their relationship lol, and then Chilchuck gets to be a little condescending and vindicated like "Told you so". Chilchuck complains every time she does it but he secretly enjoys it, he’s just like "gross, you’ll get sick too" (give me one more pls…). Her lips would be cool to the touch and he’d also really enjoy it if she were to put her hand to his cheek, if he’s feverish enough he’d more transparent about it but if he stil has his wits about him he’d be his typical tsundere and act totally unaffected.

In Chilchuck’s pov, he’d be frustrated at being sick for sure. He hates feeling unproductive or weak, at first he might argue that he can still do work, but at some point he relents and realizes that he might be undermining it, he does know that pushing yourself when sick only makes it worse after all, which doesn’t help productivity in the long run. He’s not fully a workaholic anyways, so he would partially enjoy the opportunity to kick back and relax, even if he can’t have alcohol… Being malnourished and underweight def doesn’t help sicknesses, so maybe it actually WOULD be more dangerous than people would assume, though I def think he’d stop his harsh diet post-canon. If he has enough headspace for it, I think he’d bring small chests and such that he has to unlock for his job, and it’d be like casual little puzzles to keep him busy as he tries to picklock them open. He’d like that sort of puzzle fidget toys I think. But if he shivers and his agility his reduced/it’s difficult he’d get really frustrated over it not being as easy as usual and being more tedious so he’d end up flying into a gamer rage and cussing and maybe even throwing the locked things away unless Marcille is there and soothes him lol.

In the aftermath, when he gets better, I think he’d try to treat her extra well. He’d bring her a nice eggs and french toast breakfast in bed and maybe they’d go out together that day. He’d be a bit embarrassed and grumbly but he’d thank her sincerely, probably hug her and sigh and be like "Sorry you had to see me like that." Marcille pats his back and is like "Don’t apologize come on. Yes I was worried and yes you were gross with puke on your chin… But also I got to see you being cute and depending me a bit while I nurse you ☆😋" cue pissing off Chilchuck and he retaliates and they end up bantering

Dish for sick people: Soup with pasta that easily goes down the throat with simple broth, sort of minestrone soup-like. She’d make sure not to put too much salt it soup hah, but she’d frantically remember Senshi’s lessons on nutrition and the importance of getting sick people nutrients and minerals, so she might go overboard a bit trying not to make it too barebones. I’m not good enough to do a nutrition traits wheel meal rating like in canon though haha

If Marcille was sick:

They notice pretty quick that she’s sick because Marcille loves to complain every time she feels a mild discomfort or inconvenience. At first Chilchuck brushes it off because, again, her complaining is common place, but one can only take so many "My throat feels scratchy" "It’s so hot in here" "I’m cooooold" (‘just put on a jacket’ ‘I have!’) "This doesn’t taste like usual :(" "Man why am I sweating so much today" "Chilchuck I feel bad" before they pick up on her having a cold. Her whining doesn’t end there however, even as he leads her to bed and gets her a cold compress and measures her temperature with a hand to her folder, she would dramatically talk about how she’s feeling and complain. Chilchuck even gives her a scalding diss of "you’re as whiny as my daughters when they were 5". "Chiiiiiil" she calls from the other room "What?" he shouts back, "Can you bring me my dog plush-pillow?" and he huffs but he does it. Caring for someone like that for a whole day wrings him out, but it does feel worth it when he goes to check up on her or bring her a heated pad or book at her request and sees her being all sick and mopey, yet still be her usual self. Unlike with Marcille nursing him, caring after someone like this does feel like work to him and there’s not one bit of him that’s happy to be doing it, but it’s work that’s worth it, work that leaves him feeling satisfied and content though tired out. He would care after her as many times and for as long as she’d need, and if he complains while doing it, well, it’d only be fair with how much she complains too. Although, he’s surprisingly gentle and quiet while she’s sick and caring for her, he still scolds when she does something less than ideal, like sitting up when she should stay laying down or puking besides the bucket, but he’s overall incredibly patient and lenient compared to usual, supportive rather than criticizing. While feverish and sloppy, unlike Chilchuck she wouldn’t try to maintain her composure at all, letting herself be a slob. She’d be eating her porridge and her hair would get in her mouth since it’s down, and Chilchuck would tie up her hair in a comfortable braid or other simple hairdo.

Chil nursing someone would be very by the book I think. He believes in home recipes and methods. Wouldn’t let her get out of bed, would make her basic porridge, would keep track of her temperature and such. He might skip over some fancier treatments or details though, like dabbing off her sweat unless it’s excessive. He would change her bedsheets though. He might even take a break from work and keep her company, and chat with her so she’s less bored and even hold hands. He’d even indulge her in a forehead kiss to bid her good night, telling her to call out his name if she needs anything during the night, and if they usually shared a bed at that point in their relationship then he’d sleep on the couch instead. Marcille would dramatically ask for a kiss but Chilchuck would ruthlessly refuse. He’d grumble about her taking her cold too lightly probably, but he also wouldn’t really worry about her. Being sick happens sometimes, and he knows she’s tough. It would pass.

Sick, feverish Marcille would be even more emotional than usual. Chil would cringe and brace himself for it every time she opens her mouth, but nurses her like a champ anyways with the patience of a saint. She’d go on rants, would keep telling him that she loves him over the smallest things. Her eyes would sparkle as she stares lovingly at him, and Chil def notices it but sweats and tries to ignore it all like :| If she gets delirious enough, at some point she would say "Chilchuck… I gotta tell you something…" "Hm-hm?" "I cheated on you." Glass breaking, Chilchuck falling over, "W-what? How?!" Marcille sniffles "The other day… An elf ambassador came to the castle… And I thought he was really pretty." She sniffles again, Chil’s heart is pouding, "And? What happened?" "And… He was really pretty! I’m so sorry. I thought he was really pretty, I’m not faithful!" and then Chilchuck realizes she’s just being dramatic over aesthetic attraction and he’s so PISSED, he untenses and his soul leaves his body a bit, he steps out of the room to go scream in a pillow because he knows he can’t take it out on her for having scared him. Pushing it even further if she in one moment can’t recognize him, and like he leans over her to give her a cold compress or something and suddenly her hand shoots out and push him away by the chin. "No! I am a taken woman…" and he’s torn between feeling touched and so over it, his neck hurts now. She calls him a tall and dark handsome stranger. Chilchuck considers calling for a doctor.

In the aftermath, Marcille is super thankful and keeps thanking him and praising him but Chilchuck is just like "I didn’t do anything special. If you want to thank me then finish cleaning up your puke bucket.". She wouldn’t stop though, making up for the time that she couldn’t cuddle and touch him while sick to be super affectionate. She’d be all over him and he’d be exasperated but also lowkey it feels nice too, he also missed her cuddles in the one day she was sick. Feels like getting your battery recharged. If people come by or like she goes to the castle she would tell everyone listening about how her lover was SO KIND and ATTENTIONATE and NURSED HER and is VIRTUOUS and COMPETENT and PERFECT and—

Dish for sick people: She wouldn’t praise his cooking skills then though. Chilchuck’s go-to for sick people is a bland af oatmeal porridge. It does its job. It’s easy to eat and keeps her alive well enough. She feels grateful over it and it gets brownie points from her because Chilchuck cooked it FOR HER with his HEART but she still can’t bring herself to rate it more than 3/5 stars aloud.

-—-

They would be so marriedcore 🙏 Now I’m tempted to write a fic like this ngl. I’d prob call it Chills bc I love puns and that sounds like smth I can work in prose about heheh. Could even do two birds one stone by having it start by Chil getting sick and then Marcille indulging in kissing too much then Marcille gets sick haHAH ohhh yeah it’s all coming together 🔥 This took me all morning thank you for enabling my brainrot 💕💕 This is what you call a uhh whump fic right. I did have a fic planned like that except it’s an injury and not sickness

#Dungeon meshi #marchil #marcille donato #Chilchuck tims #headcanons #character analysis #bc I can’t control myself 😭#Btw anyone reading this feel free to use my hcs as prompt to write a fic or such go ahead if you want to #cw emetophobia #I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS WORD SOUP <3333 #Whump #Ask

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thegettingbyp2 · 2 years

Note

riding Knox's thigh while he kisses you and teases you about making a mess on his nice suit

(referring to the suit he wore on family feud)

A/N: So I think this is the smuttiest thing I've written so far and I loved writing it so much! Thank you so much for the request and remember to keep sending them in, really in the mood to write for Johnny!

Try Not to Make a Mess

‘Johnny, hurry up! You’ve got to be on the sound stage in forty minutes!’ You called through the open door to the bathroom in the trailer where Johnny had spent the last fifteen minutes in front of the mirror, trying to get his hair to play game. Johnny and the rest of the Jackass guys were playing against each other on Family Feud and you were so excited; you had been watching the show since you were young.

‘Doll, I don’t know why you’re getting so stressed, you get to sit backstage and watch the thing, I’m the one who has to actually think of the answers,’ Johnny laughed as he walked out of the bedroom and stood in front of you, arms held out towards you. ‘What do you think?’

Now, there was never a time when you thought Johnny looked bad, you didn’t actually think it was possible for him to look bad. But this was quite possibly the most attractive you’ve ever seen him look, and that was really saying something! He was wearing a red suit and shone when the light hit it just right with a black shirt underneath which made his silver hair stand out. You hadn’t realised how long you had been staring until you felt Johnny’s hand on your cheek and he was kneeling in front of you. ‘Everything okay, doll?’ he asked, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

As soon as your eyes met his, you moved forward, putting both of your hands on his cheeks and pressing your lips against his. The kiss was soft and gentle and Johnny’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you gently to the edge of the sofa before breaking the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. ‘Well I wasn’t expecting this,’ he said, smiling softly at you.

‘You look incredible, baby,’ you said, tucking your head into his neck and peppering light kisses along his jaw, causing a groan to escape Johnny’s throat. ‘Sit down,’ you whispered into his ear and after the chuckle that came from Johnny, he quickly moved to take a seat on the sofa and you moved until you were kneeling in between his legs. Your hands ran up his thighs and over his hips, dipping your fingers in the waistband of his trousers, stopping when you felt your arm brush against something in his pocket. ‘What have you got in your pocket?’ you asked, moving your hand to slide into his pocket.

‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time,’ Johnny started, his hand coming out to try to pull your hand out of his pocket. You laughed when you grasped the item between your fingers, realising what it was as you pulled it out.

‘PJ, why do you have a stun gun in your pocket?’ You asked, sounding amused as you held it up in front of your face.

‘I’ve got to make sure that the guys on my team don’t give stupid answers,’ he said defensively. ‘Anyway, you’re getting derailed, and we wouldn’t want to waste the next half hour when you’re already on your knees looking so pretty for me?’ he said, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone with one hand whilst the other gently took the stun gun from your hand. You felt your cheeks heat up, always finding the way he would speak to you whenever he was horny and you rubbed your thighs together; an action that was not missed by Johnny. ‘Maybe we’ll have time to help you out before I go as well,’ he said, smirking at you as he thrust his hips up slightly, redirecting your attention as he leaned back on the sofa, watching you.

Your hands deftly undid his belt and you whimpered when you felt his cock twitch under your hand as you pulled the zipper down, his cock springing up to hit against his stomach. Johnny’s head fell back to hit the back of the sofa as you gently wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, pumping up and down a couple of times, swiping your thumb along the head, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered along the length of his cock. As soon as you lowered your head to gently lick the tip of his cock, you felt Johnny’s fingers thread through your hair, pulling it out of your face into a makeshift ponytail.

The feeling of his fingers in your hair made you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and suckle lightly before siding your lips further down. ‘Shit, doll, you’re so good at this,’ Johnny groaned as his grip in your hair tightened and he started to push your head further down on his cock. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, your hand came up to grip his thigh, your nails digging in, making his hips thrust up as he breathed out heavily.

‘Look at me,’ he said, using his free hand to cup your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that were gathering in your eyes. You looked up at him, with his cock still down your throat as you moaned lightly, slightly leaning into the hand on your cheek. The vibrations from your moan were felt around his cock as he started to pull your head up and down his cock, chasing his high. ‘You love being a little slut, on your knees for me, don’t you sweetheart, you love making me feel good,’ he said, maintaining eye contact with you, making you rub your thighs together again, fingers tightening on his thighs. All of a sudden, Johnny held your head still as he groaned and he emptied himself down your throat, petting your cheek the whole time.

Creating a seal with your lips around the head of his cock, so you didn’t make a mess on his suit, you swallowed down every drop he spilt into your throat, giving the tip one more affectionate lick before you pulled your head away. Almost as soon as your lips left his cock, you were yanked up until his lips were on yours, him moaning into your mouth as you slid your hand down your body, trying to relieve some of the ache you felt between your thighs.

‘You’re incredible,’ Johnny said in awe as he pulled back from the kiss to take in the hazy look in your eyes, smirking as he saw your hand working over your jeans. ‘How about we help you out now?’

‘I can wait until after,’ you said, making to get up from your knees to wipe away the mascara that had run down your cheeks, only to be stopped by Johnny’s vice like grip on your hips.

‘I think we have time doll,’ Johnny said, the smirk still on his face.

‘You’re really telling me that you’re ready to go again?’ You asked sceptically, raising your eyebrow.

‘I can fuck you after the show but for now I think there’s another way we can help you,’ he said, his fingers undoing your legs and pushing them slowly down your legs, letting his hands linger on your ass as you kicked the jeans off your ankles. As soon as your jeans were discarded, Johnny’s hand moved around to your front, pushing between your thighs and chuckling at how wet you were through your panties. ‘You’re gonna have to try real hard not to make a mess on this nice suit, sweetheart,’ he said, guiding you by his hands on your ass to straddle one of his thighs. You gasped when you felt the crotch of your panties connect with the firm muscle of his thigh and your hands reached out to brace yourself on his chest.

‘PJ, we can’t! You have to go on set and-’

‘Which is why I told you not to make a mess,’ Johnny teased, his grip on your hips not letting you go anywhere. ‘Now, I suggest you get moving before we only have fifteen minutes.’ He said, leaning in close and placing the ghost of a kiss to your jaw, making your eyes flutter closed and a whimper to escape your lips.

Grinning at the effect he has on you, Johnny slowly started moving his hands, in turn moving your hips against his thigh, moans spilling out of your mouth whenever your clit brushed against his leg. After a while, Johnny’s hands stopped their movements as your hips started rolling steadily against his thigh. The whole time your hips were moving, Johnny was peppering kisses along your neck and jaw.

‘PJ, please,’ you begged as you felt your orgasm get closer and your hands started to shake from their place on his chest.

‘That’s it, baby, I’ve got you. You’re so good for me, you gonna cum all over my leg? Make a mess all over my nice, new suit just before I go on TV for everyone to see? You just want to make sure everyone knows you’re my girl, don’t you sweetheart,’ Johnny crooned into your ear as his hand made its way to the back of your neck, holding you in place as be pressed a soft, love-filled kiss to your lips. As soon as his lips connected with yours, Johnny tensed his thigh and bounced you up and down three times which made your orgasm hit you like a train. You practically screamed into his mouth as he smirked against your lips, holding you close as you rode out your orgasm on his thigh.

When you came back down, you collapsed against his chest and let his arms wrap around your body as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. He bounced his leg once more which made you whimper and curl up tightly against him from the overstimulation, the whole time whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

You finally managed to prise your body away from his and felt your cheeks burn when you looked at his leg and saw a very visible wet patch on his thigh. Looking down and seeing it for himself made Johnny let out a laugh as he stood up and walked towards you. ‘Thought I told you not to make a mess pretty girl? Now everyone’s gonna see what I can do to you.’

‘PJ, you can’t go and film like that! I told you we could have waited until we got home tonight.’ You said, knowing that if the other Jackass guys saw it, they would tease you mercilessly for months and you knew that it would be picked up on by the audience watching the show.

‘Well it’s a good thing, I brought two pairs of these pants with me isn’t it, doll,’ Johnny said, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips, grinning when he pulled away and saw your reaction.

‘You couldn’t have told me that you had another pair with you?!’

‘Come on sweetheart,’ he said, wrapping his arms around your waist, ‘you’re telling me that you didn’t find it hot? The idea that I would go out on that soundstage after you’ve just rode my thigh and left it all messy?’

His words went straight to your core as you groaned and pushed your forehead onto his chest, unable to argue with him. ‘Why did you bring two pairs of the same pants anyway?’ you asked as he walked back over to the bathroom to get changed.

‘Sweetheart, I know how you get when I wear a suit. I had planned for this.’

#johnny knoxville smut #johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville imagine #jackass

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telomeke · 1 year

Text

MOONLIGHT CHICKEN – FUN WITH THE NAMES

Not meaning to take away from all the big emotions in Moonlight Chicken, but they were really having fun with the names weren't they? 😊

JimBeam caused the biggest hangover for our dear protagonist uncle. And their furkid came about because, well, Jim + Beam = Jimbo.

Also, going back in time, can you imagine little siblings Jim and Jam running around their family farm? How cute are those names for a pair of little rascals! 😂

When I first started writing this post, it was because I thought the wordplay in the examples above was a bit of fun. But remembering how Pat and Pran's names in Bad Buddy were also able to represent deeper layers of meaning (write-up linked here) I took a closer look at some of the other names in Moonlight Chicken.

Here's what I've found – some of it's fun, some of it's heavier, and some are probably just the product of my fevered, moonlight-induced delirium, so be warned! 😉

First up is this guy, Wen's good friend Gong–

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [3I4] 4.12

The Thai spelling of Gong's name (ก้อง) can be seen on Wen's mobile at Ep.5 [1I4] 16.16, and it translates to resonant. And the idea of a resounding gong (the percussion instrument, that in East and Southeast Asia was also used to signal announcements as well as in music) does fit rather well with Gong's depiction in the show. He's shown to us as kind of an unfiltered loudmouth, and this is established early on when his indiscreet nail-and-bail advice to Wen in the gym locker room was broadcast to everyone else there. 😂

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.1 [3I4] 7.12

This pun also works across many languages, where the word gong (the instrument) exists in homologous versions – in English, Malay/Indonesian, French, Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Japanese, Portuguese, German, Polish… but not in Chinese and only partially in Thai, ironically, where the word ฆ้อง (for the instrument) is pronounced more like khong. 🤷‍♂️ (Still similar though.)

There's also another possible pun that plays on the show's overlap with Chinese culture (remembering that Moonlight Chicken is heavily Thai-Chinese) – the Chinese dialect honorific Ah Gong (阿公/亞公) that many grandkids use to address their Chinese grandpa. (In Bad Buddy, you can hear Pat's mother use this term when talking to him about his grandfather, at Ep.10 [4/4] 11.14.) In Thai, this Chinese loanword is spelt differently from Gong's name (ก๋ง instead of ก้อง) and the tone is also different. However, the pronunciation of Gong's name is similar enough to Teochew (the predominant Chinese dialect group in Thailand) that I think the pun does work too.

Based on the above, in my head at least Gong the character is very much a caricature of a worldly-wise gramps, dispensing advice to the less-experienced Wen. He's even got the near-white hair to suit, and in the scene at Ep.5 [3I4] 3.36 he's also dressed in yellow, which in Thailand is often associated with a higher, wiser authority – a reference to the saffron robes of monks, and also to the current king and his father.

OK I'll shut up about Gong puns now – just as Moonlight Chicken's art direction told Gong the character to do later, via his wardrobe: 🤣

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.6 [4/4] 6.33

Now Li Ming's name is packed with many layers of meaning, and this makes him symbolic of one of the show's major themes (that of renewal and a fresh start in the future).

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.6 [1I4] 14.09

I've written about Li Ming's name in previous posts so I won't go into it again, but the posts with more info are linked here and here. (I'll probably write more about Li Ming's name in relation to the show as a whole later.)

I think of Heart's character as a metaphor for LGBTQ+ love – which may seem a little unusual, given that gay romances are at the core of the whole series.

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 9.46 – it's so powerful that Heart's parents aren't even in the frame, because it highlights the communication gulf that separates them; it's like he's talking to a void

However, I don't think LGBTQ+ love is really the central theme of Moonlight Chicken (and will post about this separately). Rather, the romances are there to help move the ship of themes along, without being the central message. But as in any Aof-driven show there will always be some sort of political statement in support of LGBTQ+ rights, and I think Heart was so named for this reason.

Heart is fully capable of love, a complete human being in that respect. Yet his parents saw him as deficient because of his deafness, withdrew themselves from him, and left him feeling quite unloved, lonely and sequestered – not so much out of shame perhaps, but more out of a misplaced desire to protect him I think (eyes on Bad Buddy's Dissaya here! 😡).

But Heart wasn't deficient as a human being, or any less than the people his parents were comparing him to – they isolated him simply because the language that most clearly communicated his innermost self was different from that of the majority, and they did not understand enough to cope with it. He wasn't voiceless – he simply spoke differently, using his hands (thus all the discourse around not using the word mute at Ep.5 [4/4] 8.04).

All Heart needed was understanding in order for his full, authentic self to flourish (which he got first from Li Ming, and is what the Jintanas finally gave to him when they took up sign language).

Do we need a stronger parallel for the experience of young queer people, whose hearts love differently from the cishet majority's, growing up in families that cannot or will not understand them? 💖

Saleng's name (ซาเล้ง) refers to three-wheeler vehicles (and saleng is an abbreviation of the full form รถเข็นซาเล้งสามล้อ). These are usually the pedal-powered tricycles used by rag-and-bone men (who load recyclable/saleable trash into the barrow sitting on two wheels at the front of their vehicle) or (sometimes) motorcycles that are equipped with sidecars (see this link here for some images). In an example of metonymy, the scrap-pickers who ride the salengs are also known as salengs themselves.

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 1.22

And this name is especially suited to Saleng the cheeky, rough-and-ready rascal in Moonlight Chicken – just like the man himself, the vehicle saleng is zippy, unbound by rules of the road and gainfully shoulders its burden, while scrap-picker salengs are used to constant hustle and hard work in their lives, ready to capitalize on any opportunity that they might happen to find.

One of the more important names in the series is the name of the diner, because it's the same as that of the show – พระจันทร์มันไก่ (visible on the lantern at the front), and it's pronounced something like phra jan man gai.

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.1 [1I4] 6.02

Phra jan means moon, where the phra part is a prefix used for revered persons, places or objects and the jan part is a word derived from Sanskrit that also means moon (and is a cognate with the Chandra/Chandran of many Indian/Sri Lankan names – e.g., சந்திரன் in Tamil – as well as candra in Balinese, Javanese and Indonesian, and cendera in Malay).

The man gai part is the same as that in khao man gai (ข้าวมันไก่), the Thai name for chicken rice. The literal translation for the name of this dish is chicken-fat rice, where man means oil/fat/grease, gai means chicken and khao means rice (adjectives or descriptors follow the noun in Thai). This name refers to the fact that the rice is given its deep savory flavor by sautéing it in chicken-fat (the famously flavorful schmaltz, for those familiar with Jewish-American cooking – see @waitmyturtles's encyclopedic post on khao man gai linked here if you'd like to delve into more culinary detail 👍).

You might think the most obvious translation of the diner's name would be the decidedly unglamorous Chicken-Fat Moon, but I don't think that's the only way it comes across in Thai. It was probably worded that way because it plays on the khao man gai served within, but the words do have other meanings too. The word man (มัน) in the diner's name can also mean joyful, enjoyable, flashing, shining, sparkling, glowing, bright, audacious or interesting. The words shining, glowing and bright are of course often associated with the moon, and in this light (pun unintended 😂) the translation Moonlight Chicken maybe isn't that far off (since phra jan man can also mean Shining/Glowing/Bright Moon).

But remembering that in the Thai language descriptors follow nouns, another possible reading of พระจันทร์มันไก่/phra jan man gai (at least to my non-Thai ears) is Glowing (or Joyful/Enjoyable/etc.) Moon of the Chicken (just as khao man gai is literally rice of the chicken-fat).

And if it's Glowing Moon of the Chicken, I think (bear with me on this) that the Chicken being referred to here is actually Jim (don't laugh). He's the main protagonist and the center of all the action in the series, so it wouldn't be surprising for him to be referenced in the title. (And I'm thinking of chicken in the sense of the living bird, not the food on a plate.)

Remembering that the full moon in Chinese tradition represents completeness in life, especially completeness of the family (referenced at the Mid-Autumn Festival of Ep.1, and written up here), we also see that Jim is haunted throughout the series by a home life that is incomplete (ever since he lost Beam), partly because he is still hanging on to the past. We are also told in the theme song that the moon represents the heart (see this write-up linked here) and I think Moonlight Chicken is very much about Jim's search to fill the hole in his, and render it complete again (despite his instincts to do the contrary).

So if Jim is the avian protagonist in the title (remembering that chicken is also a synonym for timorousness, even as we see Jim unwilling to take that bold step to remedying the emptiness in his life), he's very much domesticated fowl (and we're also shown how fastidiously he motherhens his brood – not just Li Ming and Saleng, but also the late-night dining crowd who come to him to be fed). Noting too that Jim was also from a distant rural farm also echoes this idea that he's very much a gai baan (ไก่บ้าน or domesticated fowl), not so much a gai aawn (ไก่อ่อน, literally tender chicken, slang for naïve greenhorn)…

Anyway Jim is not the only gai in the village (this isn't Llanddewi Brefi, Daffyd 😂). Of course, the other gai is Gaipa (ไก่ป่า).

(above) Moonlight Chicken Ep.3 [3I4] 2.14

Gaipa's name is quite unusual (even Director Aof's good friend and sometime GMMTV director Jojo Tichakorn has tweeted about how wild it was, if I remember correctly). Because of this, I think it's very much a deliberate choice. The meaning of Gaipa's name also reinforces the idea of Jim the moonlight chicken because it brings up a very interesting contrast.

The word gaipa (ไก่ป่า) actually refers to this handsome beast:

(above) Red junglefowl (Gallus gallus) – photo by Francesco Veronesi on the Wikipedia article linked here, and image license linked here

It's not quite correct to call this bird a chicken (which is domesticated fowl) – this picture is of Gallus gallus or the red junglefowl, the wild ancestor of all domesticated chickens, that still lives in forests throughout Southeast Asia (including Thailand) and parts of South Asia. Bold, resourceful and adaptable, it's also commonly seen in urban areas that neighbor its natural habitat (while still remaining very much an untamed bird).

In Gaipa's name, the gai part (ไก่, sometimes rendered phonetically as kai) does mean chicken in Thai, but the pa part (ป่า) means forest or wild. So Gaipa's name translates to something like forest fowl or wild chicken, that is the wild counterpart to domesticated chickens.

I suspect Gaipa's character may have been originally written as more flamboyant, and thus the image of the loud, colorfully bold (and sometimes squawky) red junglefowl would have been a better fit. Red junglefowl will also freely pursue and interbreed with domestic chickens (they are basically the same species, like wolves are to dogs; it's just that domestic chickens also have some genetic input from the closely-related grey, green and Sri Lankan junglefowl, and are more placid than their wild versions). With this in mind, Gaipa's romantic interest in Jim also makes sense (since Jim is the domesticated version of the wild gai).

Part of me wishes they had gone with a campier portrayal for Gaipa though – it might have been a chance to make up for the negative depiction of the screamy, predatory Green in 2gether. But at the same time it would have been a really delicate balance to get right (and flubbing it would ironically have become replication rather than reparation). So maybe Director Aof just didn't want to take the risk and opted for Khaotung's sweeter, more restrained rendering instead. 🤷‍♂️ I'm still a fan of what they've done nonetheless. 👍

OK, so on to Wen's name, and his is thought-provoking for the different questions and themes it evokes. The analysis of his name is so long that I've moved it away into its own post (linked here).

(top) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [4/4] 14.21; (bottom) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [1I4] 16.20

Keeping it simpler, Wen's name can be linked (via the wn that we see on his phone at Ep.5 [1I4] 16.20) to a political era in Thailand where opposing camps were known as the Red Shirts and the Yellow Shirts. The Red Shirts were identified with the country's lifeblood (its rural poor), and passionately championed the cause of the impoverished farmer. The Yellow Shirts were drawn from the urban elite (including intellectuals and royalists) and because of their origins among the intelligentsia can be seen as representing the message that passion should always be tempered with reason.

Not taking sides here, but very broadly I think that, based on the above, the colors yellow and red (including their various shaded incarnations like mustard/saffron for yellow and rust-brown for red) represent the different pulls of head versus heart, and we are shown both Jim and Wen struggling with knowing the right thing to do, and staying too long in the wrong situation because of emotional attachment (e.g., Jim with the diner, and Wen in his messy relationship with Alan). And we see Jim and Wen wearing more of each color at different stages of their journey, before they come to their final decisions allowing wisdom to prevail over their emotions. 💖 There's more detail in the write-up linked here if you want to read more (but it's a long post and a bit of a trudge to read, I must say 🤷‍♂️).

(top) Moonlight Chicken Ep.5 [1I4] 11.35; (bottom) Moonlight Chicken Ep.8 [3I4] 7.33

Anyway, I don't have any analysis for other names like Jim's and Alan's, so I'll end this write-up here. Maybe will expand more on these and other names after I've rewatched a few times! 💖

#moonlight chicken #moonlight chicken names #wen wongsakorn #jim jaruek #moonlight chicken saleng #jimwen #moonlight chicken heart #moonlight chicken li ming #gaipa #moonlight chicken gong

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