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jellyluvr · 10 months

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Sweetheart

- Kai anderson x fem!reader ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Home invasion fic!! Ugh I love this scenario because there's so much to describe. It's also a raging fantasy of mine and I literally cannot wait to write it (sounds horrible but I have really weird or concerning kinks)

Tw: home invasion, r*pe (I think?), oral sex (male receiving), and a cult breaking in ur apartment pet names too!! Think that's kinda obvious from the title tho

S: you and your roommate are asleep until people break in and chaos occurs.

！Σ(×_×;)!

You were sleeping. Peacefully in your fluffy bed, the lights from the city gleaming through your window. The tv was off, everything was dark.. it was beautiful. Perfect. A wonderful night.

And then there was a bang. A loud one, that immediately got you turning in your bed. Your eyes blinked a few times, looking for a source of light. You turned on your lamp, the click making you shiver. Your eyes fell down to your clock. 1:27am. What the hell?

Maybe it was just your roommate doing stupid shit. You naturally reacted, and you stood up out of your bed, wiping your crusty eyes.

"Dina? It's like 2am, what is going on??" You called out, your head moving down to look at the floor as you reached for the doorknob. As soon as the cold metal made contact with your hand you heard some steps, a few little bangs. They sounded like they were coming from your kitchen, so you opened the door, your eyes glued to the floor as you just woke up.

You eyes followed the floor up to the single step that went to your kitchen until your eyes went on a black pair of boots. Large, shiny boots. You then let your mind guide your eyes up, and you saw a man in a mask. Your eyes widened with fear, and you immediately began to scream.

He reacted quick, and you watched the man walk over. You looked in his right hand.. a knife.

"No, no! Please!!" You yelled, backing up as you began to feel tears prick your eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed, your body feeling almost numb. Your eyes stuck to the man's knife, but movement in the background caught your attention. You watched a few more masked people walk out, one of them holding Dina over their shoulder. You cried out, holding your hands up to your eyes as you shielded yourself. You fell down into the corner of the room, folding yourself up as you began to sob.

The man's boots squeaked infront of you, a sound of rubber colliding coming next. You looked up, seeing the man taking off his mask. You watched, your vision becoming blurry from your tears. Even with that, though, you could still see the man's blue hair and it revealed the councilman. The councilman.

You were shocked. You couldn't believe the man infront of you was kai anderson. The man that broke into your apartment. The man that was holding a knife. You shrieked out with fear once more, and kai just looked annoyed. He threw his rubber mask somewhere in the room before grabbing your arm and pulling you up from the ground forcefully. He dragged you to a random door, throwing you inside and stepping in.

Your back hit the edge of the tub as you fell to the floor, looking up at kai. Your face was stained with tears, and his was full of pure evil. Kai had been stalking you for a month or so. It wasn't anything personal, just simple stalking of his. It hadn't been hard to figure out where you lived. Your roommate had made it easy from the threats he sent.

Kai wanted this to be easy. His main goal was to kill you, to murder you in a horrible way. Spread your blood all over the walls, counters, bathtub.. make it frightening. Scary. Itd make the public go crazy, and that was exactly what he wanted.

You made it extremely hard for him. You screamed and shouted, his hands going to cover your mouth. You began to pull at his leather coat, kicking and punching him as much as you could. You fought back, and kai hated it. So, he began to squeeze your mouth with frustration. He wanted to make your death painful. Not just some simple choke. He had to make it brutal. Horrible.

Your eyes began to widen, your pupils almost becoming bigger from fear. For kai, he just saw some lamb. Some easy girl to kill. He loved that.. and as he covered your mouth and held you down against the tub, he felt the slightest hint of arousal.

Your neck hung over the edge of the tub, him still covering your mouth. His right hand held both your wrists infront of him, his knee holding down your legs. You were completely restricted from doing anything. Your only choice was to shake your head, and that did nothing.

As the tent in kai's pants grew, he sighed with annoyance. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. It wasn't supposed to end up like this, but he knew exactly what he was going to do. He couldn't show any weakness, so he slapped you before getting up close.

"You're gonna shut the fuck up, alright? Do as I say and maybe I'll play nice." He spat out, leaning back from your body and standing up, shaking his arms a little and taking a deep breath before his hands went to the zipper of his pants.

You watched in horror. You knew what was going to happen and you wanted to prevent it and everyway possible. You took your chance to kick his knee, but it only made him stumble back a little. He looked down at you, his eyes black and full. He lunged down at you, turning you over and pinning you down. He held your wrists as his other hand pushed your face into the tile flooring. He wasn't going to play nice.

You regretted it. He was too fast. Too strong even though you didn't want to admit it. His body weight of yours was excruciating.. it hurt. It really did, and while his one hand went to do something you began to give up. As much as you didn't want to... you had to.

"God, is it so difficult to obey? Just fucking obey for once." He said with a scowl. You could barely see his face, but at this point you were just panting and laying there. That was when you heard his belt buckle. He fondled with it for a minute, his eyes glued to you to make sure you didn't try anything. He looked down at his pants briefly to pull the belt from the belt loops before he wrapped the belt around your wrist, the other wrist wrapping around it. He put it as tight as he could before he leaned in, his hot breath streaming on your cheek.

"Get on your knees." He whispered, leaning back once more and standing to be on his feet. He looked down at you, your body so vulnerable to him. You began to cry again, your vision blurry once more. But, you still tried to get on your knees... obeying.

Once you followed his command you looked up at him, his facial features almost scrambled. Your eyes went back down, following his hands as he pulled down his pants, his boxers with it.

His cock springed from his boxers, you choking down the little weeps you wanted to make. You cried more, looking at his manhood, then back up at his face.

"Please don't-" you started, but kai quickly ended that possibility. "Suck." His voice overpowered yours, and before you could even say anything his hand moved to the back of your head, pushing you down on his length. He let out a huff of air, reveling in the feeling of your mouth wrapped around his erection. You gagged some, his tip being far past your comfort zone. He began to guide your mouth up and down, forcing you to suck his cock.

He went somewhat slow at first, but he eventually stopped guiding you, letting you do your work. His hand pulled your hair back into a makeshift ponytail as you moved up and down on him, your face stained with tears. You didn't have any time to cry, though. You couldn't. Not anymore. His cock was taking all the breaths you had left, and you pulled off to take a quick breath but he immediately pushed you back down on him. Your drool coated his cock in a shiny glimmer, accompanied by the many veins decorating his length.

"Fuckin' slut. You love this don't you? I bet you're dripping wet.." his eyes closed, his hand now guiding you once more. You took his cock, your tight throat already beginning to hurt. You weren't a virgin.. but it wasn't like you had ever given head before. This was new, and you were sure your horrible skills would get you killed.

But, you'd be lying if kai wasn't right. Your clit pulsed with need, making aches run throughout your body. You desperately wanted touch, but you weren't sure if you were going to get it.

Kai felt himself getting closer to his orgasm, and he wasn't going to let you leave with a memory. You needed a taste too. Something that'd never leave. And as you sucked him off and moved up and down, kai knew exactly what he was going to do.

He slipped his cock out of your mouth, letting you swallow down whatever was left. Kai moved his tip towards your face, his raging cock rubbing on the side of your face. "Look up at me, sweetheart.." he said softly, but still with a demanding demeanor. You looked up, your eyes connecting with his as he got exactly what he wanted. "Open your mouth.. nice and wide for me.." he looked down at your mouth, his tip now ghosting over your lips. You opened your mouth, expecting him to use your throat, but he wrapped his right hand that used to be in your hair around his shaft, pumping himself.

His eyes almost rolled back, but he made sure not to show you. He began to breathe quicker, and with your tongue back in your mouth, he pumped faster, and finally exploded into your mouth. He shot streams of white cum into your mouth, making you taste his load. Kai huffed out some air, his mouth opening as well.

Your tongue coated in cum, kai seeming pleased with himself for his work. But, he wasn't done. Not in the slightest. He was just getting started.

"Bend over." His hand went under your chin, forcing you to close your mouth and take his load.

You weren't going to disobey.. not with him.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Figured out my draft did save!! Just had to reload the page lol. Anyway, pretty short, sorry.

Also tate smut fic is in the making :))

And part two will probably be in a few days!!!

Taglist: @tatelangdonsgirll @kaismanwich

Just reply if you want to be added!!

#kai anderson smut #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x you #kai anderson x y/n #evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters smut #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #kai anderson #kai anderson x fem reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peter #ahs cult #ahs x reader #ahs fandom #american horror story cult #evan peters icons

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dawn-moths · 8 months

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tw: predator/prey dynamics, reader is kidnapped under the guise of being saved, you could consider this dubcon at the end i suppose.

words: 900+

Vampire!Childe who finds you wandering through the freshly fallen snow that blankets the forests of snezhnaya, a trail of blotchy, splattered red following in the wake of your frantic, uneven footprints, leading him to you like a shiny lure dangling from a sharp hook.

Every new sound that echoes from the treetops makes you lose another notch of sanity, all logic wrung from your mind like water from a cloth until all you’re left with is the terrified instinct to keep running, don’t let it catch you.

You swore you could hear the distinct, almost but not quite human chittering of a mean chuckle every time you stumbled and nearly fell, as if the shadows took amusement in your suffering, but whether it’s all in your head or not doesn’t matter anymore.

You just have to keep running.

Against all odds, you just have to keep running.

Childe could smell you from a mile away even if your blood hadn’t been spilt, your sweet, sinfully human scent wafting through the air on a crisp breeze, tangled with the heady aroma of the thick pine that crowds the space of the wilderness.

He wants you, and so he shall have you.

But not until he’s let himself indulge in the thrill of the hunt.

The moonlight reflects off the shimmering snow, bright enough to light your way as you stumble through the woods, wounded shoulder clutched tightly in your hand, more panic flooding you every time you felt a new rush of sticky warmth slipping from between your fingers.

It lights his way too, not that he would even need a shred of illumination to see by. The night sky could be as black as the abyss and he’d still be able to find his way to you effortlessly, rushing over the twisting, uprooted terrain with the precision and grace of a dancer under the cover of pitch darkness.

His mouth was already watering at the thought of it— the thought of you, and how you’d taste— long before he’d caught you in his sights. And now, perched up in the top of a gangly pine, shrouded by all the course, spiky greenery, all he has to do is wait.

Because you’ve lost a lot of blood— far too much to remain standing for much longer, let alone trudging through the snow banks at the pace you currently are— and Childe can hear the beating of your fragile little heart, slowing more and more by the minute, soon to be claimed by the ruthless cold.

By the time you’ve collapsed against the nearest tree, breathing labored and growing more rigid and frozen with each second spent stationary as the cold laces through your aching bones, Childe closes in to make his move.

Besides, he figures you’re better off with him than left to face your final moments alone in the dark and snow. At least he’ll let you die in the comfort of warmth when that time comes to pass.

“Well, well, well…” his silky, unfamiliar voice coos, sparking a jolt within your psyche to get up, get away yet your physical form is too exhausted and delirious to exhibit much fear or fight. You simply loll your head back to rest against the tree trunk your back is pressed against, blurry vision going in and out of focus as you try to make out the figure standing before you, catching blotches of tangerine and carmine and charcoal amidst the endless sea of ivory and pine.

And then he’s kneeling by your side, fangs soaked with saliva as he concludes, “What do we have here?”

You reach for him, your trembling, bloodied hand missing a few times before finding the edge of his cloak, grip growing weaker and weaker as you breathe out, the words nothing more than a wispy puff before your lips in the frozen air, feebly begging, “Please… help me…”

Childe clicks his tongue, brushes the tips of his long, ungloved fingers across where your wound is saturated at its darkest, so quick and light you barely even feel it. He curls his tongue around the two digits that are stained with shining red— your blood, a voice in the back of your head warns you of, only it’s just a little too distant for you to register at the moment.

You feel your stomach clench and twist with dread, all the while your heart flutters and skips a beat at the sudden sound of him moaning around the taste of you.

“Please…” you plead once more, and this time, he seems to hear you.

“Don’t worry,” Childe assures you in a gentle whisper, much less sinister and sultry than before. And then you feel yourself being lifted from the frost, body floating yet still hanging heavy as your dead weight keeps your anchored tight to gravity.

Childe looks at you— looks through you, as if gazing deep into the pool of your very soul— and flashes a sharp-toothed smile. “First we’ll get you somewhere warm, and then…” There’s a chuckle laced into his next words, something cruel about it, like a cat that looks forward to toying with a mouse before killing it just for the sake of sick entertainment. He says, “And then we’ll have dinner.”

He sets off before you can even try to protest or form another thought, racing across the freshly fallen snow without leaving a trace, a phantom in the night, a reaper coming to claim your poor, lost, unlucky soul.

You lose consciousness before he reaches the edge of the forest, the darkness of your unconscious mind the last reprieve you’ll get before you wake up to find yourself faced with what will likely be a new kind of horror.

But Childe won’t just chain you up and drink you dry like most others of his kind would.

No, first, like a cruel cat toying with a helpless mouse, he has to have a little fun.

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shapard · 6 months

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PATHETIC

True!form!Sukuna x fem!reader

A/n: I changed in the Story the 1st into the 2nd person. I apologize for the change in the Story. Enjoy

chapter 1:

Tw: Violence, Nudity, mention of blood

Chapter 2: Meeting

It’s strange, and I don’t really like how he’s looking at me. Hungry, like he wants to devour me in whole. His breath brushed against my face; I only could see a blurry mess in front of me. I could see his shiny red glowing eyes, like a predator. “Answer my Question.” His voice was stoic, strong, and full of Venom, which scares you to the core. “I’m Y/n L/n…” My voice was quiet, not confident, I almost couldn’t even hear myself. He clicked his tounge, now annoyed about you being so quiet. His demeanor changed every second, how can I please him without risking of dying?

“You’re very quiet, huh?” His voice pierced through the quiet halls, making me feel very uncomfortable. My head sank, trying to show submissive, like a weak small animal. He tapped on his throne impatiently, tears daring to spill. He sighs and moves around his chair to get a better look at you. Sukuna grabbed your chin, griping your chin hard, so hard that it felt like splitting in two. He pulled your chin towards him, my eyes looked down at my feet. “Look at me.” He literally growled like a predator. I looked at him, his eyes seem to glow in a very deep ruby red.

He licked his lips while looking down at your chest. His face was all the sudden 1cm apart from mine. Then I felt his tounge running down from my cheek to my ear, making me slightly moan from the sudden friction between my legs. “You should’ve put on something… shorter.” He whispered in my ear, making me slightly blush but also angry. ‘I’m really starting to dislike him’ I huffed, Sukuna didn’t take the silence very well. “I really dislike you.” He growled and took his plate out of my hand, which I totally forgot that I had his food. He laid it on something that I couldn’t clearly see. All the sudden he punched my face with ease, making me fall down the stairs.

It hurts, so bad. My whole face hurt and pulsated, my whole body shook, and blood dripped down from my mouth. I held out my hand, it was moving uncontrollable. I looked up to Sukuna, the Monster, Rage, and hate filled my heart as I saw him smiling like a proud father. I hate him already. He called the demon soldier to bring me away from him, from it. I hate him so much. I looked at him with pure hate as the soldiers carried me through the room. I turned my head a little to get a better look at the “thing” or better the slave. It was a boy, barely 12. His whole body was covered in scars, fresh wounds, and dirty clothes. It made me so Angry to see this poor boy like this.

Pain, you could only feel the pain through your whole body. A needle was shoved into your neck and your body slowly gave up power. Everything began to spin again, not going to lie it scared me. Where do they take me? To Prison? I held out my hand towards Fatmanur, she witnessed it all, she looked at me with pity in her eyes. How long did she watch this scene? Sukuna looked towards Fatmanur with boredom then looked back at how you’re being dragged away.

…

I woke up again in my Room, but it all seemed like a blur. Am I maybe dreaming? It all seemed like a nightmare. An endless nightmare. It may be not a dream but indeed it was a nightmare, A nightmare I’ll never wake up from. My own Living hell. Thoughts are rushing in my mind; it was all too much. The last days have finally caught up. Before I knew it tears dripped down on the wooden ground, sniffles became crying and then to a panic attack. What ever I’ve done, I don’t deserve this.

No one did, it all doesn’t make sense anymore. I hate it here; I hate him, and I hate myself. But why? I don’t have an answer for that. Maybe fresh air will help me, help my frustration. I got up from the futon I laid on, walking towards the mini balcony I had. I opened the door, and my eyes met the beautiful sight to the woods. Looking to my left I saw A person with white hair, and he had bandages on, weird.

He seems like he’s looking for something, or someone? Maybe I should ask him if he needs help, but is it against the rules? I looked to the wall and then back to him, his head was positioned as if he’s looking at me directly in the eyes. I blinked and now he’s sitting on my balcony his face right Infront of me. Forgetting the Mental breakdown, I just had, I started to blush, even with those bandages he’s very handsome. “Interesting, what do we have here?” He chuckled as he lifted his hand to stroke my cheek.

“So soft, what is doing such a pretty girl in this kind of surrounding. It’s not safe here.” He said with a serious tone, the hand lowering themselves back to his knees. “I work here. I answered shallow, I still feel so empty. “And you aren’t his fuck doll? Very Interesting.” He talked to himself as If I’m not right Infront of him. He slowly pulled of his bandages revealing the most stunning and scary eyes I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

He started to laugh all the sudden, can he read my mind? His smirk only widened, “You’re very Interesting, no wonder Sukuna keeps you. Something about you is different.” He licked his lips and tried to touch me again, but his hand was showing some kind of magical power? He pulled his arm away from me, and it started to burn. He hums, “are you really so Important?” he whispered talked to him again, “you do know that I hear you.” I said and he just kept on chuckling. “My name is Gojo Satoru, my dear Y/n. Remember that name, it will not be the last time we will see each other.”

And then he disappeared, just like he came. Gojo Satoru then, huh. I feel so tired now as if I ran a marathon. Even though all I did was standing up and walking a little. Maybe I should really lay down and take some rest. I went back to the futon and lay down on it, closing my eyes I heard footsteps. A deep sigh hallowed through the room. Maybe it’s Sukuna? But why would he come here, to me? “I know you’re awake.” he stated as he crouched down to me, I felt cold fingers on my forehead and a weird feeling came over my body.

My Body tensed hearing him talk to me, “You’re quite Interesting, maybe I should keep you.” He continues and ignores how tens I was. Was his plan to kill me all along? Why am I Interesting? The pain I felt on my feet and on my head slowly disappeared. He sighed and let his fingers slide down to my cheeks making them feel a thousand time hotter. “don’t make me regret my decision.” He whispered in my ear, he slowly stood up and left the room. He Left me lying in this room all alone, making this small room bigger than it already was.

“What a pain in the Ass,” I grumbled, “How much I want to make him suffer.”.

…

The next morning was boring and uncomfortable silent in the halls, and everyone seemed to mind their own business. My morning routine was almost like every other day, dressing up, put on some make up and go to work. But this time it is different, this time I’m not in my hometown. This time I’m in my personal hell. With a heavy breath I stepped out of my Room, looking towards “Masters” room.

“There you are! I was so worried.” A familiar voice spoke up at me. I turned around to see Fatmanur standing next to me, a relieved sigh left me, and I smiled at her. “Are you okay? That slap from Master Sukuna caught all of us off guard.” She whispered, scared that he might hear us. A phantom pain hit me as I recalled the event in my head. “Yeah, I feel a lot better. Thank you.” I said to her back and thanked her when she gave me chocolate.

“Where did you get the chocolate?” I asked surprised that a place like this has chocolate. “I work at the kitchen, and I suggested to make some sweets for master’s guests,” She laughed proud out loud, “and some for us.”. I let out a laugh. I don’t know how she’s doing it that she’s in a good mood but it’s infectious. “Wow, two ugly Monkeys at Master Sukuna’s hallway? Kind of rude don’t you think.” And it’s the Bitch Nastja, destroying the Harmonie we had this morning.

I took a deep breath, letting her Insult me. She’s masters favorite so I must be careful around her. “I think you should keep your mouth shut, Nastja.” Fatmanur glared at Nastja, and she left out a puff. “Oh? Look brat I am the master’s lovely maiden, so you better shut your mouth, or it is over for you, you scum.” She growled out, the air between the two getting thicker. “What is going on? Shouldn’t you all work?” Uraume broke the tension like a snap. The Bitch and Fatmanur huffed, Fatmanur bid you a goodbye and left the way like she came here. The Bitch is already gone leaving you and Uraume alone.

“That was Intense.” I looked over at Uraume who just let out a smile. “Seems like you’re all healthy now,” His soft Voice always surprised me. It reminds me of a Sunset in the summer. Warm and welcoming, but who knows what lays beneath it. Maybe A serial killer who just wants to get unleashed, or a Scientist who just wants to do experiments on Humans. Or. He’s like us, a Prisoner from Sukuna, but that wouldn’t make sense he’s like him a Demon.

I hummed at him, waiting for my new Task for the day. “Master Sukuna has a meeting today with the God of wisdom. You shall come with him and grand him assist.” And with that he left, leaving a note on the ground. “God of wisdom?” I started to read the Letter.

God of wisdom

His name is Geto Suguru, Age is unknown. The meeting is in the evening against 7PM. Wait for Master Sukuna, he’ll bring you to the meeting room. He doesn’t like humans, he despites them.

“He doesn’t like humans. Why should I then attend?” I asked out loud, looking confused at this letter. Couldn’t he just tell me this eye to eye?

Weakness: Unknown

Reason of the meeting: Private

This really was confusing, why would he want you to attend to such an Important meeting? You’re not sure why you out of all servants, maybe because you’re a Butler one out of ten? But why didn’t he just choose the Bitch? Too many questions ran through my head.

Footsteps started to echo across the halls, they were light as a feather, but they felt heavy like a rock. A deep chuckle went from the halls right through your bones. “The little slumber butler. What are you waiting for?” It’s him, he was standing right behind me, my heart started to pound heavy, and my breath was so loud all the sudden. You turned around facing him, but not looking him in the eyes. You don’t look him in the eyes, you’re not allowed to. It could be your death sentence.

“I was reading the letter I received from Uraume.” you mumbled, he huffed annoyed by your shyness. “Why so quiet all the sudden?” you wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. It seemed like your words were holding on to your throat, scratching the inside of your throat open. Why Am I so afraid of him? “Cat got your tongue?” His deep laughter filled the castle, making me flinch. He leaned down on my ear, “Don’t disappoint me, you’ll not get a second chance.” Your world seemed to pause, the cold breeze hitting on your sweaty body. His tone was threatening and not welcoming at all, you better not fuck this up.

…

You waited in front of Sukuna’s bedroom He should come out in couple of minutes. ‘How did I end up here.’ You thought, it was humiliating to be pushed around like some peasant. A shadow towered over you; you looked up to the source of it. Sukuna stood tall over you his eyes showing his coldness and power, It was overwhelming and scary at the same time. “Just follow me.” Sukuna was very strict and seemed somehow tense, what is the meaning of this meeting, what could make him nervous?

I followed him through the scary monotone halls. There is no Soul in here, no life. You opened your mouth to say something but quickly shut it remembering that Sukuna isn’t a chatty man and only speaks with commands. Would you annoy him by asking any question? You choose to stay rather silent, you don’t want to risk your life because of your Personal noisy nature. Sukuna stepped in front of a huge door; the door opens by itself making you step inside in a slow-pase. You hesitate to go inside; you had a bad feeling for what waits for the two of you behind this door.

In the room was a huge table in the middle with chairs around it. It reminds you of a head quarter from politicians or some management. There were only a few people, if you can even call those things human, sitting in these chairs. Sukuna sat down on the Black chair, or rather throne, the chair was much larger and more majestic. On the side was another Black chair but in smaller, you sat on it hoping that Sukuna won’t scold you for doing something without his permission. But to your surprise he only glared at you and muttered a “We’ll talk about your ‘misbehaving’ after this meeting.” You just nod and your hands started to shake, you take a glimpse at the other creatures in this room.

There was an Angel like guy with dark, long hair. He had pure Black wings and a wicked like smile on his face, which kind of scared you off. You started to look onto the ground, his aura seemed off and evil? But he was still so elegant and a beauty himself? “Nice to see you again Mr. Ryomen, it’s been so long. And I can see you brought a human with you? Isn’t this kind of a meeting very private?” You took a deep breath to not get panic, you can feel his degrading stare and annoyance. Sukuna only chuckled, “Do you really think you can command me around? She’s only a peasant of a creature, a fly. She’s not going to bother this meeting, maybe even the quite opposite.” This statement didn’t make you feel any kind of better, it just made your Anxiety higher than it already is.

“We shall start.” He announced. “You wanted to discuss with me your Future plans with the gods, Geto?” Sukuna asked the Man called Geto, “That’s correct, you know Mr. Ryomen aren’t you bored to be played with the gods? They threw you away as if you’re nothing but an unwanted child.” The tension started to rise when Geto talked about this topic, but what there’s one thing that you didn’t understand. What did he mean by the gods? And how could Sukuna get thrown out by gods? He’s a demon, he shouldn’t even be allowed to stay in heaven or was that the reason why they abounded him? Are Gods even true beings?

So many Questions ran through your head, and the meeting has just begun. Sukuna lets out a sigh, “I recommend you not to run your tounge in other business, curiosity killed the cat, right?” I didn’t have to look up to see the dangerous, warning smile he has. Geto nervously laughed, “Sorry Mr. Ryomen, I will get to my point.” He apologized and his head was bowed down in a respectful manner. “My plan is to kill the upper Gods and become the ruler of heaven.” Sukuna began to laugh loudly and looked at Geto as if he’s stupid. “Oh? And you want me to help you, correct?” His laughing slowly calmed down.

“That’s correct.” He said with a huge smile. “No.” Sukuna said all serious. “Ryomen listen to me, you’ll get your revenge on these fuckers! Isn’t this what you wanted?” He was standing now, fighting to bring Sukuna on his side. Sukuna didn’t answer, he was probably thinking about it. “I accept your offer; it’s been too long since I’ve been in a war. We’ll continue or talk another day, Geto. I have Important things to do, go somewhere and have your fun while staying here. Follow me human.”

You stood up very quickly, maybe a bit too fast, the guy named Geto laughed at you. “I think you scared her Sukuna.” The room tension rose so quickly it was too fast for you, you looked up at Geto seeing Sukuna lifting him up with a choke hold, “I may have agreed on your little plan but that doesn’t we are friends, you’re just some maggot who got wings to flap around. I can kill you any second, don’t forget that Geto.” Geto started to get all blue and you were in trance, in panic even, but you couldn’t move and couldn’t look away.

“Human we are leaving.” He huffed and let his victim fall like a bird that got his wings cut off. Sukuna started to walk out of the room. His footsteps were heavy and still soundless, you could hear Getos coughing down the hall, Sukuna clicked his tounge annoyed by Getos weakness. You still didn’t understand, is taking revenge on the gods so Important to Sukuna that he’d risk his life?

…

Sukuna was walking back to his chamber, and you went in your own room. Taking a deep breath and stumbling on your bed. “That was too much for me, I should take a bath.” You stood up taking your stuff and asked Uraume where the bath was, he showed you right away. The way you saw the Butch Nastja flirting with some guard men, disgusting. You undressed yourself and took s small shower, you then walked down to the small hot spring. Setting a foot in felt like heaven, you let out a loud sigh of relief. The stress and the horror were all the sudden not in your head, it was clear and refreshing, Relaxing even.

You must find a way to get out of this hell. You started to think about possibility, but you were stopped by light footsteps, your heartbeat raised, and you started to get panic. Who was that? Another Butler or maid?

And there he just stood, Sukuna Ryomen, completely exposed to you and entering the hot spring where you were in. You were overwhelmed with the sight in front of you, you bowed your head and started to get up. “Wasn’t expecting a peasant like you here. Stay, accompany me, entertain me.” He said in a low voice and looked at you like a predator. You turned around, still not looking into his eyes, “Look at me.” He ordered and your eyes shortly met his ones. Your breath caught up in your throat, since when were you holding your breath? You opened your mouth, but it was cut off by crashing windows. 5 Men with weapons attacked you but were sliced into different pieces, the blood spurted all on you, now you were sure you must take a bath. Sukuna groaned in annoyance, now his mood was completely ruined by some fucked up Jujutsu sorcerers.

“Are they crazy or something?” You whispered to yourself, “They wanted to kill someone,” You took the towel and covered your chest and your private area, the white towel now crimson red. “They weren’t after me.” You raised your brow, “Who then...?” You asked yourself. “Isn’t that obvious human?”

chapter 3

#y/n #sukunaxreader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #gojo #god #demon #au #trueformsukunaxreader #true form sukuna #slow burn #geto #jujutsu kaisen #Shapard #Pathetic

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oneshotnewbie · 3 years

Note

I need to see B!D get reunited with Alex and Kara!! (Missing for a decade part4 please :^ )

During the examinations they wanted to do on your daughter and you in the hospital, you didn't let go of the detective's hand.

Without it, you felt left alone and completely surrendered to the world around you that you no longer knew. To make her disappear from sight even for a small moment when she wanted to get you water, was for you as if everything could only have been a dream and she wouldn't come back, as if there was a possibility that everything could have been in vain.

"Momma?" did you hear a voice from far away, which however could not detach you from your thoughts.

You weren't sure yet whether this was all just a dream that you would soon wake up from and your brain was playing a trick on you or not. Everything was in slow motion, blurry. It all felt so fake, so unreal.

"Y/N?" This time the voice was louder, a slight squeeze in your full hand and a tug on your shirt finally tore you out of the foggy gamble and you shook your head.

With lifeless, dull eyes you looked up into Maggie's shiny, moist eyes. She smiled softly and inaudibly whispered a 'are you okay?' before you nodded and turned to your daughter.

She now had a small juice pack in her hand that she was sipping on and a small Nemo toy that the nurse gave her to distract her from the examinations. "Look, mommy. Found Nemo, can go back to papa."

You carefully took the toy out of her hand while you looked at it, it held so many memories.

You wanted Grace to hear them too, even if she might not yet fully understood. Almost every time you were in hell's house together, you told her the story of the little orange fish in your hand while you kept interrupting and telling her about her aunts.

"Do you know what I always told you about that little fish?" you asked and she grinned as she knelt in front of you and looked at Maggie. "Mommy said fish is like her. That's funny because Nemo is a boy and mamma a girl."

The brunette smiled and sat in the free space on the bed next to the child, still not letting go of your hand. She was amazed that despite such circumstances, Grace had a shine in her eyes and trust in people, especially that she could speak so well even though she had no learning opportunities except you.

Interrupting, the nurse wanted to give you an access to add fluids and antibiotics. You asked Maggie to distract the little one while that was happening. You didn't want Grace to see this, she was too young.

As if Grace knew that she shouldn't notice something, she crawled onto the brunettes lap and leaned against her while she waved the toy in front of her face without looking back. "Why is Nemo like your mom?" she tried so distract her while also wanting to know what you had told her. Her gaze was still on you and tried to calm you down with circular movements on your palm as the needle was stuck into you.

"Nemo was taken away from family by danger and managed to get back to papa through a mistake from danger. Just like her," she gasped briefly before she broke away from Maggie, looked deeply into her eyes and put on a serious look. "We are home, or? Friends saved Nemo, you saved us. You are friends?"

"She is family, Gracie." you reminded her.

Now you looked at Maggie too. Her gaze was lowered, but you noticed the slight pulling up of her nose and the suppressed sobbing; she fought back tears. "Maggs.."

"Can you excuse me for a moment?" she asked almost and looked at you with a tearful face and again panic rose in you and you felt so desperate. You held on to her hand and wrist as tightly as you could just to keep her from letting go. "Y/N, I will be right back. I have to call Alex and Kara, they are frustrated. I will just walk in front of the door and you will be able to see me from her on the window, ok? I won't go away, I promise."

The nurse, still doing her work, followed your conversation from the beginning. She didn't know how you were feeling but she knew that you would now cling to everything and everyone until you understood that you were safe and didn't have to go back.

She put her hands on your cold and cramped hands and you looked at her with fear and pure panic in your eyes. With emotion and a big smile, she managed to get you to loosen your long, thin fingers from the detective and instead hold hers tight as long as the brunette was not there. "Lie down, sweetheart. I will take care of you while Detective Sawyer is gone, okay?"

You nodded and slowly sank into the pillow. While Grace fell on top of you and tried to relax, you watched every step Maggie took. It took a while for Maggie to be seen after she stepped out the door. Her head was still lowered and she ran her hands various time over her face and breathed deeply in and out.

You could swear that the nurse injected a sedative or something similar into your IV because as soon as your daughter's weight was on you and you felt the warmth of her body, your eyes became heavy and you had no chance to keep them open. The tiredness run over you; it was all too much new at once.

Your last look turned to Maggie who had her phone to her ear, sobbing and smiling.

---

You woke up to a child's laugh and realized pretty quickly that it was your daughter. Even if you didn't want to have children and she was given to you through dire circumstances, she saved your life every day in captivity. You knew that you had to fight for her and that you couldn't give up so she had to stay with him. And so you survived the long time; she was one of your heroes.

"Momma!"

"No, sweetie. Let her sleep. She needs the rest." whispered a strangely familiar voice and you heard her little laughter again, which put a big grin on your face.

As if it had clicked in your head, you realized whose voice you heard and your eyes were wide open before you looked into several tearful faces who no longer seemed sad. Everyone looked happy.

The redhead was sitting on one of the brown chairs next to your bed and tickled Grace, which was standing on her thighs, while Kara and Maggie each stood on either side and made balloons out of gloves that they let rain over them.

"May I join?" you asked carefully and everything began to stand still for them; all eyes were on you and you could see that some tears started to built up again. Your sibling's jaw dropped down and they looked at you in shock, not knowing how to react.

It was like a miracle for them to see you again, their hopes were gone long ago and now you were back.

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aliwritesss · 3 years

Text

~ Labyrinth

Pairings: Eric x reader

Genre: fuckboy au!

Warnings: angst, slightly suggestive, slow burn, swearing

Based on this AU! Highly recommended to read it before you start the series, but can be read alone.

1/? Masterlist

-“… And remember! The deadline for the essay is in three weeks.”- You hear your History teacher’s voice but no one listens to him. The bell just ringed and that meant freedom.

-“ It’s Friday!!! Let’s do something fun.” You hear Kevin’s voice next to you. You thank the heavens and stars to have him in your life, you don’t know what you would have done without him all this time.

-“ What are you thinking?”

-“ Well… You know, everyone’s been on the edge these past months with the exams and all. So Juyeon thought I’d be fun to do a small gathering, only close friends.” He says with the smallest voice and you feel all your body tense up. If you knew one thing is that you couldn’t go to parties, not yet. Not when it’s been so long since you’ve seen him and you’re actually starting to move on. To wake up and not think of him.

-“ It sounds fun! But I think I’m gonna pass this time, I better start working on this assignment.”

-“ Cmon (Y/N), it’s been a month. You gotta go to your old self, I miss you. I miss us having fun.” It pains your heart to hear Kevin, you’d love to have the balls to go to their dorms and be yourself, to dance again till you can’t stand up, to laugh freely but you feel that the spark inside of you has died and you’re afraid that if you go, it won’t light up anymore.

-“ I promise you I’ll go back to my old self. You’ll get back your partner in crime, my little moon.” You say hugging him and exiting the class. -“ Just give me a little bit and you’ll get back your star.”

-“ The world better get ready once the moon and star duo comes back.” He says giving you one of his best smiles and you feel a little bit better. You’ve known him for so long and clicked since then. One day you two were in class and someone said you looked like the team rocket from Pokémon, always together being mischievous. And since then you baptized your friendship as the moon and star duo.

As you walk outside you feel his comment nag you in the back of your head. “Why do I have to feel so bad when he’s doing fine? Was everything a lie? Did he truly love me?” These thoughts have been bugging you lately and you’re starting to get annoyed. You thought you were doing fine but sometimes these dark clouds will come and shake you down. And it seems like today was one of these days.

“ So… Juyeon is doing a gathering huh? Do you realize that it means half of the campus is going, right?”

-“ Yeah… We told him only close people and Changmin said that meant around 50 friends.” He says, rolling his eyes. -“ Thank god we have Sangyeon and Jacob to keep him in check or else It’d be a nightmare.” And that makes you laugh because it’s true, you remember one night you were staying the night in their dorms and suddenly Sunwoo and Chanhee started arguing about the smallest thing. Sangyeon only needed to look at them to make them stop. It was so funny, you don’t want to mess with an angry Sangyeon to be honest.

-“ And… Here we go. I knew it.” You hear Kevin’s annoyed voice. -“ They’re asking me to buy drinks, it seems like more people are coming tonight. I have to go now bubs, but we should do something fun this weekend okay? Just the two of us.” He says while hugging you and you nod. Maybe that’s what you need, to start slowly coming out of your cave.

You start making your way to your dorm thinking about the million things you have to get done in these two weeks and you can feel your anxiety already coming. The pressure you’ve been feeling these past few days it’s getting worse everyday. And the worst of it, it’s that you don’t have anyone to talk about it. Unconsciously, you touch your necklace, feeling a little bit better. You look down to the tiny shiny star and remember the night he gave it to you.

-“ I’ll be your star, ready to guide you even in the darkest times, even when there’s no moon shining.” He said softly in your neck. You smiled at him and looked at the charm. It was a little star filled with crystals. Stunning.

-“ When you feel like giving up, remember that I’ll be here with you. Faintly.” Eric said, touching your necklace.

“Where are you now? Where are you now when I need you the most?” You think for yourself, It’s not like you weren’t starting to move on from him, which you are doing. But you were not forgetting him, and you wish you could.

You wish you could erase all these sweet moments, act like nothing happened. Act like him, cold and unbothered. Why did him have to play you? Was everything a lie? Everything he said, was just a trap to only have fun with you? You couldn’t trust your memories, it seems like you only could remember the good ones.

But what about that night you two had a fight on a party because he was with this girl, laughing and talking the whole night while you were alone? You still remember his words: “ Stop being a pain in the ass, if I wanted to hook up with her dont you think I would have already done it?”. And you being a silly naive girl in love, acted like it didn’t hurt you. Like he didnt had the power to destroy you in matter of seconds if he wanted.

And that was the reason you broke up with him.

Everyone knew you were his girl and god forbid anyone who dared to touch you. But that’s it, you were only that, his girl. He didn’t bother to put a label, you were there for him and that was enough.

-“ Eric what are we doing?”- You asked him the night you two broke up.

-“ What do you mean?”-

-“ What are we doing together? What is this? Are we exclusive? Are we truly in a relationship?”- You asked trembling, you weren’t ready to hear his answer.

-“ Not this again (Y/N). I told you I don’t want to talk about it and you keep bringing this up. I said you are my girl and that should be enough.”-

-“ But it isn’t. It isn’t when there’s a queue of girls waiting for you to get tired of me and drop me like a toy. And I had enough, I need to know what I am to you.” You said sitting in his bed.

-“ You are making me tired with all these questions. I said drop it, (Y/N). You know how I am and still chose to be here with me.”-

-“ I chose you bc you said that you couldn’t do this without me, Eric! You told me that I was special and-.”

-“ So? That gives you the right to be called my girlfriend?”- And that was the last straw. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, it’s like someone snapped you back to reality. Like you just woke up from a beautiful dream and got hit with the true world.

He loved you, but not in the right way.

He cared about you, but not enough.

You got dressed and started to pick yoiur things while crying. You needed to get out as soon as possible, even if it was 3 in the morning.

-“Cmon (Y/N) don’t be like this. I got mad and you know I say things I regret later. Please let’s talk in the morning when we are calm, okay? Babe please-“

-“ Don’t touch me, Eric. I’ve had enough. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep falling in love with you more and more when we are not in the same page. Not even in the same book.”- You said putting on your sweatshirt, well, his sweatshirt now yours.

-“ Are you serious? Are you going to be like this? After all we’ve been through?”-

-“ Exactly, after all we’ve been through you still think I don’t deserve to be your girlfriend. And let me correct you, you’re the one who doesn’t deserve to be my boyfriend. I’m tired of your shit.”

-“ I know you’re angry (Y/N) but I swear if you leave this room that’s it.”- He said staring at you. You gave him one last smile and closed the door. It was so late at night and you decided to bring this topic up… That was a stupid move of you to be honest, but it needed to be done.

You can feel your vision getting blurry with all the tears falling but you don’t care anymore.

-“ Star? Is everything ok?”- you feel Kevin’s sleepy voice coming from the other side of the hallway and you let out a sob. -“ Hey, Hey. What happened bubs? Why are you crying? Where’s Eric?”-

-“ I… I- I think we just broke up.” You said hugging him and starting to sob even harder.

- “ Oh gosh…” He said quietly while stroking your hair.

And after that everything was a blur, you only remember him and Haknyeon taking you to your dorm and sleeping there. Everyone knew what happened because they heard you two arguing but no one could bring the topic up. It was typical of you two to argue, but in a matter of hours everything was cleared. But this time was different and both of you knew it.

This time the damage was done and there was no going back now.

A/N: So it’s finally here!! The first chapter of this little series. Thanks to all of you for liking so much the AU and for telling me what you preferred to see on this series. It’ll be after the break up, but I thought it’d be nice to have a little context of why did the discussion happen and to see the dynamic of the relationship. Honestly speaking, I love Eric’s fuckboy vibes so much.. But still it pains me to see him acting this way :( I apologise for any typo or mistake! And remember you can ask in the comments or dms to be tagged and that requests are open!!

TAGLIST: @asherbl @fairycob @givememunjang

#tbz #the boyz #tbz x reader #tbznetwork #the boyz au #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz series #eric sohn #the boyz eric #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #tbz eric #tbz angst #tbz drabbles

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leabethchase · 3 years

Text

My headcanons for the kinds of weddings our four main couples would have!

(For some reason Tumblr makes my photos blurry. If you click on them they'll clear up)

Portwell

When it comes to Gina I thing she'd want a mix between elegant and rustic/floral. So the sunflower/rose mix I thought was perfect for her! And in a way the two flowers kind of represent the two. EJ is like a sunflower, bright, constantly growing, and demanding attention, while Gina is like a rose, elegant and beautiful, full of love, but if not handled correctly can prick you. And EJ in a red tux? PERFECTION. But he thinks Gina is absolute perfect when he sees her in her dress looking high-class and exquisite. And you can bet your ass that boy practically sobbed at the sight of her. They'd have both the ceremony and reception outside, probably the reception in a tent decorated with beautiful fairy lights. Gina's mom would walk her down the aisle, Ashlyn would be Gina's Maid of Honor and Mr. Mazzara would be EJ's best man. EJ plans a huge dance number with Ricky, Carlos, Seb, and Howie that blows Gina away, especially because she can tell the her hubby who has two left feet has been practicing really hard to make it perfect but fun. And you bet that they'd be serving risotto at the reception dinner.

Redlyn

I know people would probably think that Ashlyn and Big Red would have a red themed wedding, but honestly I think that's too predictable. I think Ashlyn would want something softer and natural, which is why she'd go super floral with soft pinks, oranges, and reds. They'd have their ceremony outside in a feild and the reception in a barn. EJ would walk Ashlyn down the aisle because he's the family member she loves the most, Gina would be her maid of honor, and Ricky would be Big Red's best man. Big Red and Ashlyn would do a rendition of 'Red is Love' for the guests. For their wedding favors Ashlyn hand made candles, and for their wedding photos Big Red made a light up sign.

Seblos

Carlos and Seb DEFINITELY bump heads trying to plan their wedding. They both have totally different ideas. Whereas Carlos wants big and grand with homeage to his latino heritage, Seb imagined something small and in nature, preferably at his farm. Eventually Gina and Kourtney, Carlos and Seb's maids of honors, decide to take the wedding decorating into their own hands and come up with an elegant way to combine the two. They hold the wedding at Seb's barn and do it up with colorful flowers and decor that plays homage to Carlos’ heritage. The set up is elegant enough to please Carlos, but not so elegant that it makes Seb uncomfortable. An equal balance between the two, and both grooms are pleased. Both of their outfits are handmade by Kourtney herself, Carlos in an tasteful suits embroidered with a colorful flower design and Seb in a charming suit/dress, both wearing matching flower crowns. The cermony is beautiful and the reception is fun with lots of booze, spanish dishes, and latin dancing. And the guests go home with little pots of plants that were Carlos' idea, so that they could all have something that could grow with them.

Kowie

We know Kourtney is anything but subtle or ordinary, so she'd for sure go big for her wedding. She's a Queen and this is her day to be treated like royalty. Of course she created her dress herself, and it's definitely not a typical wedding dress. Its luxurious and all a shiny gold, with a gold and red crown to top it off. She definitely drew a lot of gasps from the crowd when she appeared on the aisle, and a few tears from Howie when he saw her in all of her glory. She gets married at her church because God has always been most important to her. Though she loves her mom, she walks herself down the aisle because she'd be damned if she followed some old misogynistic tradition. Nini of course is her maid of honor, and Howie's is his oldest brother. The reception is held at a venue next door and is just as royal and elegant as she wanted. And at the end of the night, everyone leaves the room so that the couple can share a dance alone with Howie softly singing "If I Can't Love Her" in her ear

(I didn't include Nini or Ricky since they're free agents right now, and I don't like them together so I didn't do one for them together.)

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ladyrivia · 3 years

Text

Spitfire (Chapter One)

Summary: Anya Donato, a seasoned agent in the DEA transfers from New York to Columbia to take down Escobar. Upon arrival, two particular men catch her eye, Javier Pena and Colonel Carrillo.

No warnings! Except maybe google translate spanish.. Enjoy!

The fierce Columbian sun shined through the windows of the airport, giving Anya a bright welcome as she trudged down the stairs to customs. She dragged her suitcase behind her, duffel thrown over her shoulder carrying the remaining items of her previous life that was not already shipped down to the Embassy.

“Pasaporte, por favor.” passport, please. Digging through the inner pocket of her jacket, she pulled out her passport and required forms, handing them over to the man who was clearly tired of his job. “Gracias señora..Donato.” Thank you Mrs..Donato. He looked over the forms, stamping them and entering something into the system. “Bienvenida a Columbia.” Welcome to Columbia. He gave a tight lipped smile as he gave back her documents.

“Gracias.” Thank you. Anya replied, shoving the forms back into the pocket and continuing what seemed to be the never ending process of transferring to her new station in Columbia.

Anya walked to the ARRIVALS sign, where she was told that an agent would be picking her up. A handsome man walked towards her, his dark brown eyes scanning over your body. Perv. Anya thought, straightening her back and preparing to turn down whatever offer this man had.

“Excuse me señora, did you happen to see an agent on your flight?” Oh. Of course. He wasn’t expecting a woman to be joining. Her eyes narrowed, giving him a glare.

“I am the agent,” Anya dug through your pocket once more, showing him the shiny DEA badge before putting it back. “Señor.” His eyes widened, realizing his mistake, opening his mouth to form an apology, but she quickly cut him off. “Not another word. Can we just go now, I’m tired and ready to get the hell out of this airport.” He nodded, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and walking towards the exit. Normally, she’d argue and snatch her bag back, but she was too tired to care.

He led Anya to his black 4 door SUV, with scuffs and minor dents in it, showing its age. Throwing her bag in the back, she settled in the passenger seat. The car smelt heavily of cigarettes, which wasn’t too different from the car she sold right before heading to Columbia. If you were in the DEA, you either had a drinking problem or a smoking problem, if not both.

“I’m Javier, Javier Pena.” He was still trying to recover from his mistake earlier.

“Anya Donato. Pleasure to meet you.” Her eyes were focused on the city as they drove off, trying to get a sense of the area that she would now be living in. “Got a cigarette?” She looked towards him.

“Yeah,” He took out the pack from his front pocket, opening the carton for her to take one. “Here, lighter is in the console.” He grabbed one for himself and waited for Anya to finish lighting yours before handing the lighter to him. She took a long pull from the cigarette, letting the smoke settle in her lungs for a few seconds before breathing it out, rolling down the window half way to allow fresh air to replace the smoke.

They smoked in silence, letting the nicotine settle her nerves.

“So.. where’d you transfer from?” Javier had never felt more awkward in his life. He normally always knew what to say, but with you he was at a loss.

“New York. Got tired of the snow and the cold.” She felt a smirk form on her face when she looked at him and said, “And I think you boys needed some help down here.” He looked at you, lips twitching into a grin

“Saying we’re incompetent?”

“Perhaps.” The banter eased the awkward vibe in the car, the two continuing to smoke while Javier pointed out places, whether it be a bad neighborhood, a good dive bar, or what she was most interested in, the best food choices.

“And here we are, home sweet home..” The car pulled into the Embassy, the security guards at the gate recognizing Javier’s car and immediately let him through. “I think the ambassador already left for today, I think they said something about a meeting.” He shrugged, clearly having not paid attention. “Let’s get you checked in here then we can get you set up at your new place.” He chucked the cigarette on the ground when he got out of the car, leading to the entrance of the large building. She opted to throw your cigarette butt into the trash can, grumbling something about littering.

“Pena!” A southern drawl called out. “You were supposed to pick up the new agent, not hire a new prostit-” Javi silenced him with a look.

“Agent Anya Donato,” She stuck out her hand.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I’m Steve Murphy.” He shook her hand.

“No harm done, you aren’t the first to assume.” Anya gave a pointed glare at Javier.

“Well, uh, welcome to the team.” Steve gestured to three desks pushed together in the bullpen. “That empty one is yours.” The group meandered to the desks, Anya plopping down in the uncomfortable office chair.

“Tomorrow we’ll have Carrillo get you your gun and fitted for Kevlar. For now you should get acquainted with our favorite narco.” Javier lifted a large box labeled ESCOBAR, putting it on the desk in front of her. Anya sighed, sitting up in her chair and taking the top off the box, finding it filled to the brim with papers.

“Where’s the coffee?” Her northern accent came out with the last words.

“The caw-fee is over there.” Javier mocked her accent, snickering when she flipped him off before retrieving a cup of shitty office coffee.

Hours passed, Javier was clicking away on the typewriter, Steve meandering around the office, retrieving information from the different intel groups that were scattered around the building. Anya’s eyes were starting to strain, the words becoming blurry on the paper. She snatched Javier’s cigarette box from where he placed it on the far corner of the desk, he got tired of taking it out every time she wanted to steal a cigarette.

“Don’t you have your own?” He inquired, raising an eyebrow at her.

“We’ve been over this Pena, I would’ve brought my own but Uncle Sam would’ve gotten pissy about it and I haven’t exactly had time to go get my own, nor do I have a car to do so.” Anya took a puff, then quickly took a swig of coffee. Not even 24 hours in and she was already returning to her bad habits.

“How many cups have you had?”

“..4..” She mumbled around the cigarette before looking up at Javier, eyebrow raised again. “Maybe 7.”

“Shit, Donato, how long have you been awake?”

“Long enough.”

“You’ve been pouring over those papers for hours, why don’t we head out of here and go grab a drink with some of the guys?”

“You sure they’ll want me interrupting boy-time?” It was Anya’s turn to raise an eyebrow, she normally isn’t one to turn down drinks, but given the reaction she got upon first meeting her new partners, she wasn’t exactly excited to have to repeat that experience so soon.

“Of course, you’ve already interrupted it here,” Javi gestured around. “C’mon, I’m sure the trip down here wasn’t exactly easy. A few drinks could do you good.” He was pretty much begging her to come along at this point, he wanted to spend more time with her, get to know his new partner before they had to go guns-blazing into some drug lord's hideout.

“I guess so.” Anya put the lid back onto the box, downing the rest of her coffee and throwing it into the trash can near their desks. Javier quickly finished what he was typing before slinging his jacket on.

“You ready Donato?” She nodded and followed him back to his car.

The drive to the bar was short, the time filled with her asking clarifying questions about Escobar. Arriving at the bar, there were already other police vehicles parked. When she turned to ask him, he said, “We go here pretty much every night, it’s a good way to wind down.”

“Ah.” Anya and the New York DEA department had a place similar, except it was a 24 hour dinner/bar combo. She shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the past. She can’t afford to get emotional, especially when she’s the only woman on a team full of men. The second she shows emotion it’s over. Everything she’s ever worked for, benched and it being chalked up to being ‘too emotional’.

They exited the car, Javier leading her to the usual spot that him and Carrillo liked to sit. It was a corner booth, allowing them to monitor everyone coming in and coming out.

“Why isn’t Steve here?” Anya furrowed her eyebrows at the realization that Steve wasn’t with the group, but she saw him leave shortly before they did.

“He has a wife, Connie. She’s a sweetheart, I think you two would get along.”

“You barely know me.”

“We’ll that’s why we’re here, aren’t we?” Javier gave her a smile, and she couldn’t help but give him a slight grin in return. Approaching the corner booth, Anya noticed a man already sitting at the table, but he stood up upon seeing the two walking towards him. His stare was intense, she could tell he was trying to get a read on her. He was undeniably handsome, but in a different way than Javier. Javier was charming, definitely an expert in flirting and wooing a woman. The stranger was just… hot. His uniform fit tightly around his biceps, a 5 o’clock shadow sculpting his face, a watch decorating his arms that she wished were—

Get a grip, Anya. She cursed herself out in her own head as she ogled at the man.

“Carrillo, cómo estás?” Carrillo, how are you? Javier greeted the man.

“Quien es tu amiga?” Who’s your friend? Carrillo ignored his question, nodding to Anya.

“¿Recuerdas que mencioné que íbamos a conseguir un nuevo socio?” Remember me mentioning we were getting a new partner?

“Soy Anya, Anya Donato.” I’m Anya. She could tell that the man was surprised that the new partner was a woman, him continuing to analyze her every move.

“Colonel Carrillo.” His hand dwarfed Anya’s when they went to shake hands, they were warm, she could feel the calluses formed by years of hard work. Javier gestured for them to sit, him sliding in next to her and Carrillo sitting opposite of them. There was already a bowl of peanuts at the table, broken and discarded shells in a bowl next to it. Carrillo had obviously been munching on some before they arrived.

The waitress came by, dropping off menus and taking drink orders. The men had ordered whiskey.

“Aqua y…” Anya thought for a moment, deciding what drink she was in the mood for. Glancing over the menu, she decided to go with a classic Columbian cocktail. “Refajo por favor.” Water and a Refajo please. Carrillo and Javier gave her a quizzical look. “What? When in Rome..” She grabbed a peanut and cracked it while looking over the menu. Anya leaned over to Javier. “What’s good here?”

Carrillo was captivated by the woman. He certainly wasn’t expecting her when Javier said him and Steve were getting a new partner. While she was shorter than the two of them, she carried herself with the same confidence, even while having to look up to meet his eyes. He watched as she glanced over the menu with her big brown eyes while ordering her drink, the slight shade of pink that crossed her cheeks when they questioned her drink choice. Carrillo slightly tensed when she leaned over to Javier, a sense of jealousy sparking. Reúnanse, Horacio. Get yourself together, Horacio. He cussed himself out in his head.

“If you’re looking to try something local, you could try the Bandeja Paisa. It’s our National dish.” Carrillo grabbed another peanut as he spoke, cracking the shell with ease. He watched her fidget with the peanut in her hand while she looked for the dish on the menu.

“Yeah, I’ll try that. Thank you Carrillo.” Anya gave him a warm smile as she pulled back from Javier, placing the menu on the edge of the table so it was easier for the waitress to grab when she came back. The waitress quickly returned with their drinks and took their orders, Carrillo got a steak and Javier got a burger.

Anya finally attempted to crack the peanut, finding herself unable to. Carrillo noticed and raised an eyebrow, glancing at the peanut then back at her. She tried playing it off as if she was just fidgeting with it.

“Son of a bitch.” Anya muttered under her breath after a couple more tries. She could throw vicious punches, down a man twice her size in hand to hand combat, but she couldn’t crack a damn peanut.

Javier watched her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk appearing on his face when he noticed her struggling with the peanut. It was cute watching her try to play it off when Carrillo noticed, but he could see the pink return shortly there after. Javier had snuck off earlier to read her file, the ambassador had given it to him and Murphy days prior, but they didn’t bother reading it, assuming it’d be another guy like them. He read about her work in New York, how she helped take down some Cali Cartel members. Anya would go in undercover, taking down sicarios in club’s bathroom in a dress and heels when she would lead them back there for what they assumed to be sex.

After watching her suffer with the damn peanut for a few more moments, he reached down to grab it, easily cracking it and handing it to her.

“Thanks.” Anya muttered, the blush returning to her cheeks, redder than before. She munched on the peanuts while she grabbed another, yet again failing to crack it on her own. Javier chuckled and helped her crack it again. This repeated until they had a cycle of Anya handing him a peanut and him cracking it for her, dropping the peanuts into her hand and putting the shells in the bowl.

The spark of jealousy returned in Carrillo when he watched Anya finally relinquish the peanut to Javier. Es un puto maní. Para. It’s a fucking peanut. Stop. Carrillo returned to insulting himself in his own head, but he couldn’t help s small twitch of a smirk when Anya’s blush returned to her face.

“So tell me about the Rumpus Room.” Javier asked Anya while he cracked yet another peanut for her.

“That shitty place? Finally decide to read my file, asshole?” Anya snorted and took another sip of her drink.

“Call me an asshole all you want but I’m the one cracking your peanuts, gringa.” Javier waved the peanut in front of her.

“Gringa? Come up with something original, lindo.” Pretty boy. She swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Wonder where you learned that one,” He gave her the unshelled peanuts. “You gonna tell us or what?” He took a sip of his whiskey.

“Nothin’ much to say,” Anya said between crunches. “Awful place, smelled like cat piss.” She scrunched her nose. “Wasn’t anyone high profile, just a trafficker of theirs. Put on a tight red dress, strutted into the club and I had him in an instant. Practically drooled over me.” She shook her head. “We danced a bit and I whispered some..” Anya was worried of the reaction she would get, her plan worked well, but some think she’s promiscuous and a whore for how she took down these men. “Something dirty in his ear and led him to the back. Disarmed him quickly and just beat the shit out of him. Nothing special.” She practically chugged her drink, trying to ignore whatever reaction the two men had.

Well, there certainly was a reaction in their pants.

“In a dress and heels,” Javier whistled. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Best not.” Anya let out a sigh of relief, neither of these men seemed to care about her unorthodox methods.

“You went in there without a weapon?” Carrillo’s fists were clenched, how could her superiors put her in such a dangerous position?

“Can’t hide much in a skin tight dress,” She shrugged, finishing off her drink. “Though I did hide a knife in my bra. My boss didn’t know about that.” A smirk came to her face. Carrillo did not find any of this funny. No backup or weapons, what if they had caught onto her? Over his dead body would he send—

Para, para, para. Stop, stop, stop. Carrillo pleaded with his mind once more as the waitress returned with refills and their meals.

The rest of dinner was filled with exchanges of stories, both men finding themselves enamored with the lively stories Anya told, the alcohol and time spent together making her feel more and more comfortable with the two. She was hungrier than expected, digging into her Bandeja Paisa.

“My god Carrillo!” Anya praised Carrillo for his recommendation, which was something he definitely wanted to hear again.

It was about midnight when Javier noticed Anya starting to slump, the lack of sleep starting to catch up with her.

“I’m okay seriously, I feel fine.” She felt the alcohol hitting her.

“You’re clearly tired, c’mon carñira, it’s time to get you home.” He groaned when he realized her apartment was empty, that was something they were meant to do before she arrived.

“Qué es?” What is it? Carrillo noticed the look on Javi’s face.

“Her apartment is empty. We were meant to get the essentials moved in before she arrived but with everything—”

“Bendejo.” Idiot. Carrillo muttered. “Ella puede quedarse en mi casa esta noche, tengo una habitación de invitados preparada.” She can stay at my house tonight, I have a guest room set up. Javier eyed him, jealousy blooming in his mind. “Que? Quieres que duerma en la misma cama donde te follaste a las prostitutas?” What? You want her sleeping in the same bed you fucked prostitutes? Javier knew he was right, he wasn’t prepared for someone to stay over.

“My Spanish is good but I think I’m a bit drunk, fill me in?” Anya seemed to sober up a tad after nursing her glass of water.

“I may have forgotten to set up the furniture in your apartment..”

“You can stay at my house tonight, I have a guest room.”

“Oh. Yeah that.. that works, just need to grab my bags from his car.”

“Consider it done.”

“There you go. Take care of her.” Javier gave a slight glare at Carrillo, warning him if anything happened to her. Stop it Javi. You just met her today. She isn’t yours. “Goodnight, carñira. See you tomorrow.” He shut the back door of Carrillo’s car, where he had brought her bags over.

The drive to Carrillo’s house was quiet, Anya looking out the window and gazing at the city’s lights.

Upon arrival, he insisted on opening her door for her, wrapping his hand around her waist to make sure she didn’t trip up the stairs to his house. He knew she wouldn’t trip, she knew she wouldn’t trip, but neither said a word and played along with the excuse.

“Make yourself at home, here’s the guest bedroom,” He opened a door on the left. “Sorry about the boxes in there, work seems to follow me home.”

“Oh no worries, I’m the same.” The evidence boxes were neatly stacked in the corner, all of them combined was definitely taller than her.

“Bathroom is through that door,” Carrillo pointed to the door on the opposite wall. “And that door is my room, so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask.” She nodded. There was an awkward pause between them, before Anya spoke.

“Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Not a problem, I’ll sleep better knowing you’re here rather than a hotel in the city.” Or Javi’s apartment. Both of them knew the unspoken words. She did pick up a few words from their earlier conversation, something about in the same bed as fucking prostitutes let her everything she needed to know about Javi’s habits. “Goodnight, Anya.”

“Good night, Carrillo.”

61 notes · View notes

thatslikely · 3 years

Text

Fred Weasley’s Day Off (Part 1) - F.W.

Fred Weasley’s Day Off- Fred Weasley x Gender Neutral!Reader [Ferris Bueller’s Day Off AU]

Warnings: only occasional mild language

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this is Part 1 of my new 5 part series, Fred Weasley’s Day Off! You can find the series masterlist here. This part is going pretty similar to the movie, but as the story unfolds, I promise it isn’t a carbon copy of John Hughe’s masterpiece. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Just a reminder: Y/N is Your Name, Y/L/N is Your Last Name, and thoughts are in italics.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @anchoeritic @probably-peeves @horrorxweasley @weasleywh0r3s

if you want to be added to be added to my general (or this series!)’s taglist, send me a dm or ask!

If you haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day off or just need a refresher, HERE all all the scenes included in this part in chronilogical order! I HIGHLY reccomend giving these a watch, for they make the situations a lot easier to understand (and they’re hilarious).

----

It’s a beautiful day today, temperatures in the upper 70’s. You can expect plenty of sun and not a cloud in sight. Right now, it’s 75 at lakefront, 74 at Midway, 73 at the O’hare.

“Arthur!” Molly Weasley screeched, beckoning her husband to Fred and George’s messy bedroom. The walls were plastered with large posters of their favorite bands and sports teams (mainly Fred’s), and an expensive computer sat on the desk in the corner. The door to the room was ajar, a frantic mother feeling a haggard Fred Weasley’s forehead.

“What's the matter?” Arthur asked, briefcase in hand.

“It’s Fred, for Merlin’s sake look at him!”

Fred laid slumped under the hand-knitted quilt like a corpse, his hair tousled and his chin unshaved. She continued, “he doesn’t have a fever, but his stomach hurts and he’s seeing spots!” Fred peeled his pained, umber eyes open, his weak gaze pointed to his suit-clad father.

A sympathetic Arthur reached for Fred’s cold and clammy hands, feeling them with a shudder. He’s got a bad cold, he thought, poor boy needs to stay home and rest.

“I’m fine, I’ll get up. I have a test today.” Fred leaned up slightly, his stuffy nose attempting to breathe. His baggy eyes drifted around the room, glazing the empty bed parallel to his’. “No!” Molly and Arthur Weasley stated firmly in unison, pressing his aching chest into the soft bed.

“I have to take it. I-I wanna go to a good college, so I can have a fruitful life.” Fred kept attempting to get out of bed, only for Molly’s gentle hands to guide him back down.

“Oh fine, what’s this? What’s his problem?” Ron leaned against the untidy bedroom’s door frame, his arms crossed, his face donning an unamused expression tinged with jealousy. He was looking daggers into Fred, who reciprocated nothing but a wink.

“He doesn’t feel well,” Molly stated, not pleased in the slightest with Ron’s distasteful demeanor.

“Yeah, right,” Ron rebutted with a scowl. The tips of Ron’s ears seared with resentment for his brother and anger at his naive and biased parents.

“Ronnie? Is that you?” Fred asked, his blurry vision making the outline of his brother near indistinguishable from the rest of his room. “Ronnie? I can’t see that far.” Fred leaned up in an attempt to see his brother, before falling backward with a dramatic moan.

“Dry that one out, you could fertilize the garden,” the younger ginger spat, tapping his toe furiously.

“Ronald, you get to school!” Molly demanded, vehemently gesturing for him to leave.

“You’re letting him stay home? If I was bleeding out my eyes you’d still make me go to school! This is so unfair.” Jealousy oozed from Ron’s clenched jaw like venom.

“Ron, please don’t be upset with me. You have your health, be thankful,” Fred said coolly. His eyes remained glinted with mischief, causing a furious Ron to storm off in a huff.

The concerned mother and father turned back to a wheezing Fred. Molly tucked him in tighter, cooing, “Now listen, I’ll be showing that new family some houses today, so I’ll be in the area. The office will know just where to find me if you need anything, okay?” A wave of gratefulness swept over Fred’s face.

“It’s nice to know I have such loving, caring parents. You’re both very special people.” Molly caressed Fred’s ashen cheek before planting a compassionate kiss on his warm forehead.

“G’bye champ,” Arthur said to his son before carefully shutting his door and walking to the garage.

They bought it.

Incredible. One of the worst performances of my career, and they never doubted it for a second. Fred peeled back the curtains blocking the beautiful view from his large windows with a smirk. He looked out the panes, admiring the gorgeous weather. How could I be expected to go to school on a day like this?

This is my ninth sick day this semester; it’s getting pretty tough coming up with new illnesses. If I go for ten, I’ll have to barf up a lung, so I’d better make this one count. Fred carefully adjusted his extortionate stereo, his fail-proof plan slowly piecing together.

Fred then stepped over to his desk, reaching for an old, hefty soccer trophy of his and some rope. The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. He started knotting the rope around the shiny golden award methodically. A lot of people’ll tell you to go for the old ‘phony fever’, but if you’ve got a nervous mother, you could wind up in the doctor's office. That’s worse than school.

“It’s a little childish and stupid, but then, so is high school.”

He scrupulously placed the trophy contraption behind his door with a satisfied nod, proceeding to the bathroom dressed in his grey and maroon striped bathrobe. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

Fred undressed and stepped into the steamy shower, quickly shampoo-ing his ginger mop into a spiky mohawk. He gave some thought about his plans for the leisurely day before removing the showerhead, gripping it like a microphone, serenading an imaginary audience, “I recall Central Park in fall. How you tore your dress, what a mess, I must confess…”

----

“Spinnet?” A greasy Mr. Snape drawled, spectacled eyes darting around the dingy classroom, illuminated with corporate fluorescent lights. “Spinnet?”

“Here!”

“Smith?” Silence. “Smith?”

“Present.”

“Weasley?” Snape asked, scanning the room for any signs of the irresponsible redhead.

“Weasley?” he repeated, uninterested and monotone. “Weasley?”

“Um, he’s sick,” a perky Cho Chang cut through the tense silence with a smile, “my best friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s brother’s girlfriend heard from this guy, who knows this kid who saw Fred pass out at Florean’s last night! I guess it’s pretty serious.”

“Thank you, Cho,” Snape said impassively.

“No problem, whatsoever!”

----

A robotic ring emitted from the phone next to Lee Jordan’s bed, disturbing the perturbed ambiance of the inert bedroom. The hypochondriac occupying the sheets clicked the silver ‘answer’ button with a shallow sigh.

“Hello?” George Weasley asked, his voice deep and groggy.

“Georgie, babe, what’s happening?” Fred’s exuberant voice questioned from the other end of the line, starkly contrasting his twin’s nonbelligerent energy.

“Very little,” he responded in a trance-like state, eyes spacing out at the blank ceiling, his mind nearly detached from his aching body.

“How do you feel?”

“Shredded.” Half-empty pill bottles and antihypertensive drugs lined the bleak nightstand to his left.

“Get dressed and come on back home. I’m taking the day off,” Fred imposed. He sat in a lounge chair, next to the turquoise pool, soaking in the bright morning sun, which starkly contrasted George’s dark atmosphere. He held a Brick to his ear, sipping an iced Hawaiian drink from a swirly straw. The only thing covering his body was a pair of floral swim trunks; plastic sunglasses rested in the ginger nest atop his head.

“I can’t stupid, I’m sick. I think I got food poisoning from Lee’s awful cooking.”

“It’s all in your head, George, come back home,” Fred said more firmly, taking another sip of the fruity drink in the souvenir cup.

“I feel like complete shit, Fred. I can’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Now come on over here so I can have a fun day off!” Fred demanded, hanging up the phone promptly. “Sheesh.”

George remained stiffly on the sheets, still as a statue, muttering, “I’m dying.” The phone chimed again with another call. Click.

“You’re not dying, you just can’t think of anything good to do!” Fred’s voice echoed through the dimly-lit room before the tone of an ended call took its place.

“Pardon my French,” said Fred to no one in particular, “but George is so tight, that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks, you’d have a diamond.”

Fred quickly abandoned the pool deck, instead continuing random antics around the vacant house, whether it was (horribly) playing his centuries-old clarinet, or prank calling gullible freshmen claiming he had an impending kidney transplant. This was the life.

“I’m so disappointed in George. Twenty bucks says he’s sitting in his car debating whether or not he should go out.”

Fred had hit the nail on the head. George sat in his four-wheeled hunk of junk for minutes, muttering to himself, “He’ll keep calling me. He’ll keep calling me until I go home. He’ll make me feel guilty. This is ridiculous! Okay, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go.” He turned the key of the run-down car, only for the engine to cough and heave. “Goddamn it!”

----

“Molly Weasley,” Molly introduced herself to the caller from her desk at the local real estate office. She held the landline phone in one hand, the other scratching numerals and figures onto some spreadsheets.

“This is Dolores J. Umbridge, Dean of Students. Are you aware that Fred is not at school today, Miss Weasley?” she asked punctually, her voice laced with irritation.

“Yes, I am. Poor Fred is home sick.”

“Are you also aware that Fred does not have what we consider an exemplary attendance record? He has missed an unacceptable number of school days.” Umbridge looked icy and collected on the outside, but deep down she was fuming with anger. “I have no reservation whatsoever about holding him back another year.”

“This is all news to me,” Molly replied, taken aback by Umbridge’s blunt threats.

“It usually is.” Dolores turned her attention to the hunky computer opposite her, ready with Fred’s academic profile, scanning the pixels signifying his number of absent days. When she finally opened her jaw to announce the number to Mrs. Weasley with a devious grin, she was horrified to see the number of days slowly ticking down to two.

“I asked for a car, I got a computer,” Fred said with an unamused but smug smirk as he typed lines of code into his computer back at the Weasley household, “how’s that for being born under a bad sign?”

“I can appreciate how this time of year, children are prone to taking the day off. However, in Fred’s case, I can assure you, he’s a very sick boy.” And with that, Dolores hung up on a sympathetic Molly, her tight brunette curls gradually frizzing from aggravation.

“I don’t trust this… Fred Weasley,” Umbridge confided to her secretary, Augustus Filch. “What’s so dangerous about a character like Fred is that he gives good students bad ideas. The last thing I need is fifteen-hundred Fred Weasley disciples running around these halls. He jeopardizes my ability to effectively govern this student body.”

“Well, he makes you look like a bitch is what he does, Dolores,” Filch said with a smirk.

“You’re wrong,” Dolores asserted, fiery gaze piercing through Filch’s soul.

“Well, he is very popular. The sportos and motorheads, geeks, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads, they all adore him. They think he’s some righteous dude,” Filch said astutely.

“That is why I’ve got to catch him this time. Show these kids that you can’t just skip school nine times a semester like he has and get away with it!”

----

Mr. Binns, a prehistoric-looking man with novel-thick glasses, stood at the head of the classroom, giving his usual dull lecture. While he etched utter nonsense onto the chalkboard, you couldn’t help but release a bone-cracking yawn.

After years of sitting in your uncomfortable plastic chair, drowning out Mr. Binn’s boring babble, your saving grace arrived in the form of a grave Nurse Pomfrey.

You quickly slipped on your pale, leather jacket and stuffed your blank notebook into your backpack at the sight of the frail woman donning white scrubs like a dove, eager to escape class. Nurse Pomfrey had on a solemn face as she quickly whispered something into Mr. Binns’ ear before announcing to the uninterested class, “Y/N, Y/L/N, may I have a word with you?” You painted a look of surprise on your face before stepping into the hallway with the disturbed grey-haired woman.

“My dear, I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad tidings,” she said sorrowfully once out of the earshot of the small lecture hall, “your father called. Your grandmother has just passed.”

Your eyes welled with artificial tears, face drenched with heartbreak.

----

The landline echoed through Umbridge’s dreary, pale pink office.

“Dolores Umbridge,” she said pseudo-cheerfully into the handset held by her thulian claws.

“This is Phil Y/L/N,” a middle-aged man said, his voice slathered with a thick Chicago accent.

“How are you today, sir?” Dolores asked suspiciously.

“Well, today we’ve had a bit of bad luck. It’s been a tough morning,” he croaked, “now if you wouldn’t mind excusing Y/N, we have a lot of family business to attend to.”

“I’d be happy to, just produce a corpse and I’ll release Y/N. I want to see this ‘dead grandmother’ firsthand.” She peeled the phone away from her face, smiling valiantly at a mortified Filch, saying slyly, “It’s okay, it’s Fred Weasley. I’m setting a trap for him.”

“Dolores, I’m sorry, did you say you wanted to see a body?” an ill-tempered Mr. Y/L/N questioned in disbelief through the speaker.

“Yes. Just roll her old bones up here and I’ll gladly retrieve Y/N for you. That’s school policy.” Dolores looked so pleased with herself, a devilish smirk resting on her lips. The telephone in Filch’s office chimed, and he quickly dashed to answer it.

“Hello, Dolores Umbridge, Dean of Students’ office,” his gravelly voice answered.

“Hi. This is Fred Weasley. Can I speak to Miss Umbridge, please?” Filch’s mouth went desert-dry in horror, his aged, grey eyes bulging out of his skull. He dashed to a taunting Umbridge, jumping and waving for her to shut up.

“I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like my policies, you can come down here and kiss my-”

“Fred Weasley’s on line two, Dolores!” Umbridge’s eyes went as wide as saucers; her whole face, even her bright fuchsia lipstick, turned as white as a sheet.

She was quick to switch to line two, listening to Fred Weasley’s voice which filled the otherwise silent room.

“Miss Umbridge, I’m not feeling too well today,” Fred started, a smug and valiant grin on his face. He adjusted his clean and gelled hair, which perfectly complemented the perfectly-tailored suit he donned. “Would it be possible for Ron to bring home any assignments from my classes? Have a nice day.”

The only sound left in the office was the droning disconnect tone.

The ‘line one’ buttoned flashed bright red like a siren. With a shaky, wrinkled pointer finger painted with a coat of magenta nail polish, she hesitantly pressed the button, sucking in a breath.

“Mr. Y/L/N, I-I think I owe you an apology,” she said, mortified.

“I should say you do!” the deep voice on the other line boomed. Umbridge peeled open her lips for an apology, only to be cut off with, “Well I think you should be sorry for Merlin’s sake! A family member dies, and you insult me! What the hell’s the matter with you?”

“W-well I really don’t know. I didn’t think I was talking to you, I thought you were someone else,” Umbridge barely managed to spit out. “You know I would never deliberately insult you like that!”

“Find out where she is!” Umbridge hissed to an idle but nervous Filch, her palm covering the phone’s mouthpiece. He promptly scrambled around the surrounding metal filing cabinets, reaching for various binders and manilla folders.

“This isn’t over yet, do you read me?” The infuriated voice’s threat yelled into the frantic principal’s ear.

“Loud and clear, Mr. Y/L/N!” she responded while scouring the various sets of drawers for Y/N’s schedule.

“Call me sir, goddammit!”

“Yes sir!”

----

“That’s better. Mind your P’s and Q’s buster, and remember who you’re dealing with!” an exasperated George Weasley shouted into the kitchen’s phone, his voice at least an octave lower than usual. His look of fury was soon replaced with a smile from ear to ear, quite proud of the convincing-ness of his impression.

A dashing, suit-clad Fred Weasley soon strutted into the lemon-yellow kitchen, charismatically introducing himself, “Weasley, Fred Weasley.”

George held his palm over the mouthpiece of the phone, asking, “I’m scared. What if she recognizes my voice?”

“Impossible. You’re doing great.”

The self-conscious redhead brought the phone back to his ear, shouting “Umbridge!” furiously. Groaning echoed from the other end of the line. “Umbridge, calm down!”

“I don’t have all day to bark at you, so I’ll make this short, and sweet. I want my child outside of the school in ten minutes by themself!”

Fred gave George a harsh tap on his shoulder, hissing, “That’s too suspicious! She’ll think something’s up!”

“You do it then!” the other twin whispered back.

“Talk.”

“You!”

“Talk.”

“Fine!” he fizzled. “Umbridge! Pay Attention!” The magenta-suited principal was scuttering around her office, frantically searching for your schedule and something to repair the escalating situation.

“Umbridge! Changed my mind. I want you out there with them, I’d like to have a few words with you!” Fred swiftly slapped the phone from George’s clutches, causing it to fall on the tile carelessly. The identical gingers both scrambled for the phone, ending up in George’s grasp once again.

He yelled to the mouthpiece rapidly, “On second thought, we don’t have time to talk right now! We’ll get together soon and have lunch!”

Fred kicked George’s rear hard, causing a small yelp to escape George’s lips. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he spat at Fred, who quickly slammed the phone back to the base.

“Where’s your brain?” he harshly asked his irritated brother.

“Why’d you kick me?” George retorted, hurt.

“Where’s your brain?”

“Why’d you kick me?”

“Where’s your brain?”

“I asked you first!”

“How are we gonna pick up Y/N if Umbitch is out there with them?” Fred rhetorically asked, seething.

“I- I said for them to be alone and you freaked,” George stated, reverting back to his timid tendencies.

“Now, I didn’t… I didn’t hit you. I lightly slapped you.”

“You hit me.” Tension sliceable with a butterknife filled the kitchen.

“Look, don’t ask me to participate in your stupid antics if you don’t like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed. You make me come over here. You made me make a phony phone call to Dolores Umbridge? That woman could expel me, expel us, and then, you deliberately hurt my feelings!”

“No… I didn’t deliberately hurt your feelings,” Fred said, his words tinged with guilt. “What’re you doing?” George grabbed his red hockey jersey and keys that previously laid on the island.

“I’m going back to Lee’s, Fred. I need some rest. Have a nice life.”

“No, no, c’mon. Don’t do that, George,” Fred pleaded ruefully, “George, come back. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I’m sorry.”

“You serious?”

Fred gave a slow and sincere nod. George swiveled back around, setting his belongings back on the counter, his face lightened slightly.

“Now, to fix the situation, we’re gonna have to do something you’re not going to like.”

----

Fred and George peeled the sliding glass doors of the luxurious garage apart, revealing the interior, which was mainly lined with thousands of dollars worth of vintage car memorabilia, save for the treasured vehicle in the center.

“The 1961 Ford Anglia 105E Deluxe,” George said, his eyes pointed down at the prized pompadour blue car resting idly in front of the duo. Fred's eyes were also fixed on the vehicle, though his’ were illuminated with awe and mischief.

“Dad spent 3 years restoring this car,” he continued, hands behind his back, not daring to leave fingerprints on its shiny surface, “it is his love, it is his passion…”

“It is his fault he didn’t lock the garage,” Fred smirked, sauntering around the exterior of the automobile, slobbering all over the surface like a dog with fresh meat.

“Fred, what are you talking about?” George asked nervously, already knowing what Fred was plotting, “Dad loves this car even more than he loves you!”

“Fred, no.” Fred swiped his fingers over the perfect coat of paint, occasionally posing with the car as if he was a model on the front cover of a magazine.

“Que Bella!” he said with a chef’s kiss, still drooling over the car’s magnificence.

“Remember how insane he went when I snapped my retainer? And that was a tiny piece of plastic!” Fred paid an anxious George no mind, instead continuing his admiration for Arthur’s most valuable possession.

“George, I’m sorry, but we can’t pick up Y/N in that piece of scrap. He’d never believe Mr. Y/L/N would drive something like that!”

“It’s not a piece of scrap.”

Fred opened the driver’s side door, slowly sitting down in the comfortable cushioned seat, his umber eyes never breaking contact with George’s identical ones.

“He knows the mileage, Fred.”

“Look, this is real simple. Whatever miles we put on, we’ll take off.” Fred said, barely giving George the time of day.

“How?”

“We’ll drive home backwards.”

“No,” George said firmly, almost like a mother. Fred turned the key of the Anglia, its restored engine roaring ten times better than George’s hunk of junk’s.

“How about we rent a nice Cadillac, my treat!” He yelled as Fred slowly drove away, the revving of the vintage engine drowning out his voice. George stood frozen in disbelief, before Fred slowly backed up, beckoning George to join him.

With a heavy heart, George warily climbed into the back seat of the vehicle. And with that, Fred floored the gas, speeding off towards the Shermer High.

----

“I had a grandmother once,” Umbridge awkwardly stated, in an attempt to soothe your heart overcome with (fake) grief. “Two, actually.”

The suburbs outside of the Windy City lived up to their name today; Umbridge’s frizzy brown curls swayed in the strong breeze. The temperature today was the best it had been since last Autumn; it was a given that Fred would skip.

You patiently waited on the concrete steps outside the school, Umbridge continuing her “comforting” words, attempting to stitch the wounds caused by your grandmother’s staged death. You weren’t focused on the thulian tyrant, however, instead, your eyes waited on the road for the sight of a ruby-red-haired boy.

“Between grief and nothing, I’d take grief,” Umbridge said flatly.

“Great,” you replied softly, eager to shut the toadish old lady up. She opened her magenta-tinted lips to add something else, but she decided against it, promptly shutting her mouth without a sound escaping.

The stentorian roaring of the engine residing in cerulean Ford Anglia filled the silent air and idle parking lot, lightening your spirits instantly. While you didn’t doubt that Fred would’ve shown up eventually, his timing was impeccable. It didn’t hurt that he showed up in a killer ride, either.

A tall, lanky man drenched in a long beige trench coat, horn-rimmed sunglasses, and a businessman-looking fedora, which masked his fiery orange hair, emerged from the car, leaning against its body.

“Oh Y/N honey, hurry along now,” the stranger in disguise bellowed, his voice slightly higher pitched than ‘Mr. Y/L/N’s’ from the phone, a thickly-slathered Chicago accent present nonetheless.

“I guess that’s my dad.”

You grabbed the annoying principal’s wrinkly, cold hand, reciting, “Miss Umbridge, Dolores. You’re a beautiful woman, I wanna thank you for your warmth and compassion.”

A furious Ron watched from the scene play out from the large front windows of the school, immediately recognizing Fred and his infuriating antics with a scowl. Why should he get to skip while the rest of us have to stay? I’ve gotta catch him.

Umbridge looked near disturbed at your counterfeit words on thankfulness, before you eagerly stepped down to the car, giving ‘Mister Y/L/N’ a quick hug.

“Do you have a kiss for Daddy?” Fred jokingly asked with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?” you replied, leaning into his soft lips for a passionate kiss, which maybe would have escalated a little further if he didn’t drag you in the passenger seat of the Anglia.

“So that's how it is in their family,” Umbridge uttered as she watched the nearly-French kiss perched from her spot at the top of the stairway. She swiftly pivoted around walking to the front entrance to the school, when Fred floored the Ford again, its loud engine roaring off into the distance.

“Hi Georgie, you comfortable?” you asked, eyes towards the crampted back seat.

Once the three of you were out of Umbridge’s eyeline, a compact George sprung up from the lonely backseat, saying, “Hi, Y/N. No.”

“So, what're we gonna do?” you asked the dashingly handsome driver next to you with a smile.

“The question isn’t: What are we going to do? The question is: What aren’t we going to do?”

“Don’t say we’re not going to take the car home. Please don’t say that we’re not going to take the car home,” George mumbled, hopeful that Fred would comply, though he already knew that Fred would be doing the exact opposite.

If you had access to a car like this, Fred mentally narrated, gesturing to the amenities-rich Anglia, would you take it back right away? Me neither.

And with that, Fred recklessly rounded the bendy road, speeding off towards downtown Chicago.

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korissideblog · 3 years

Text

soooo alot of people really liked my Takao Talking ideas, so i decided to make a fake little fan transcript <3

this is really really short, but it's my first time really going into philosophy without a prompt, so maybe I'll get better as time goes on <3

{hiya!!! I’m @spaceACE✩! (=^-ω-^=)~ }

{I luv luv luv Takao Talking!!! And while Taka has CCs on his videos, I just thought it would be fun to do a transcript for some of my fav videos!!! (=´∇｀=)~ }

{soooo here it is!!! ฅ/ᐠ ‧̫‧ ᐟ\ฅ please like, comment, and enjoy!!!!

(๑✪ᆺ✪๑)~ }

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

aki put my camera up really high and now i have to turn it on and off with a broom handle. let’s talk about optimism in the bad times.

[Takao looks directly up at the camera, the camera being at a very very high angle. Takao is a fit, tallish person with lightly tanned skin, curly brown hair, and shiny yellow eyes. He has two sets of horns, one set that holds closely to his skull and goes up at the very end, and another set that does straight out, again going up at the very end. She is wearing a simple black choker, an oversized white t-shirt that says “Of Course I Cum Fast; I Have Fish To Catch!” With an outline of a bass jumping out of a body of water on it, and black biker shorts, as well as black slides. He is holding a broom in his right hand.]

Takao: Ah, alright. I think it’s on now.

Takao: so! I was supposed to be posting a video that had my buddy Aki in it, but apparently someone was “being a nuisance” and someone else would “rather look at me than a camera lens” or whatever.

Takao: he was just being pissy and he put my camera up really high. And hey, that was cool when we were hanging out, sure. We made lunch together and ate it. It was a fun time all around. Problems arise when he leaves my place, and “forgets” to give me my camera back. I have to turn it on and off with this. [Takao swings the broom around a bit]

Takao: So if this video goes out, it means I’ve either grown a few inches, or I’ve invested in a step ladder. Both of these events are equally possible.

Takao: And if this video doesn’t go out, then you know what happened. Except that you don’t know, because this video obviously won’t be out. You guys are smart. Out of all my friends, I’m sure you could guess which one would fuck up my recordings.

Takao: anywho! Since I'm here, forced to keep my chin up, let’s talk about optimism in the bad times.

[Takao drags a settee into frame with a great amount of struggle. Cut to him carrying a small end table over and putting it next to the settee. Cut to him placing a plate of sliced apples on the table, as well as a glass of (sparkling?) water]

Takao: [lounging across the settee] it was Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz who believed that we live in the best of all possible worlds. He based most of his ideas off of the assumed existence of capital ‘g’ God, so that isn’t exactly the most popular idea about optimism that’s currently going around, but it’s what I'm gonna use for today’s video.

Takao: If we live in the best of all possible worlds, how can one explain the mass suffering that we face? One could possibly say that without knowing suffering we wouldn’t know joy, I personally agree with that, but one could also say that suffering is a consequence of the joy that we have. If there is no joy without suffering, then there is no suffering without joy.

Takao: I’ve personally gone through suffering, in many parts of my life, but I’ve also experienced joy. And given the ability to start it all over again, i think i would still suffer unnecessarily in order to be joyful unnecessarily.

Takao: But optimism in the bad times is different. It’s going through suffering and somehow finding something to appreciate, it’s, cutting your finger with a knife, but being alright with it because you can wear your buddy’s merch now. [Takao holds up his hand, and on it is a bandage. It’s a bit blurry, but it looks similar to merchandise that is currently out for pro hero Smokestack]

Takao: it’s not finding joy in suffering, that’s masochism, it’s joy in spite of suffering.

Takao: But I'm sure all of us know how hard it can be to find joy while suffering, so we kinda can skip over that part sometimes. I didn’t find joy in the fact that I could see my reflection in the knife that cut me, but I did find joy in the healing aspect. My suffering was mostly over by the time I got the bandage, but I still put it on because I needed something good to come out of the experience. I was working on healing myself, and that’s where I found joy. [Takao takes one of the apple slices and eats it. She lifts the glass of water, but pauses before he drinks it]

Takao: and hey, I wouldn’t have had the same joy if this bandage wasn’t my buddy’s merch. Maybe I wouldn’t have even put it on! Maybe there’s a timeline where I never met Jetsam, but I still got the same cut, and it got infected and I lost my finger. [Takao takes a sip of the water, and puts it back down] Obviously this is an exaggerated example, but you get my point. There’s a timeline where I didn’t make the friends I have today, and I suffered more because of it.

Takao: It’s hard being your own therapist. [Jiji, an old black cat, walks into frame] That’s why your therapist exists. Humans are social creatures, and will always suffer from loneliness. [Jiji paces in front of the settee till Takao picks him up and puts him on her lap] no matter how uncomfortable it can make us, we need other people. Other people may not be able to stop our suffering, but they can help us get through it, and help us heal afterwards.

Takao: [looking into the lens of the camera] I originally made this channel when I was… you know I was kinda messed up

Takao: Real sick in the head.

Takao: But you know what?

Takao: Van Gogh painted the Starry Night while in drug rehab

Takao: So maybe I’m onto something here

Takao: Maybe good things don’t come from bad things,

Takao: …

Takao; Maybe good things come from healing after bad things.

[The frame fades to black]

[A quick cut back to Takao as he holds the broom, trying and failing to reach the camera without standing up from his settee]

[A quick and startling cut to Takao’s feet as she quickly walks to another room]

[Takao is now wearing different shoes, black boots, and is closing her front door. The dull click of her boots is heard softly]

[Cut to more walking, this time down a sidewalk. The click of his boots more pronounced now]

[Takao’s feet sway side to side as he sits on a subway]

[Takao records a woman in a tight pink dress. The woman is attractive, tall and blonde, but the camera is focused on her bag, large and a matching shade of pink. Out of the bag pops out a tan chihuahua with a pink spiked collar. The subway speaker talks indistinctly]

[More walking down a sidewalk, but at a quickened pace]

[Takao points the camera at a mirror in an elevator, his head is not shown, posing cutely with her leg up and a peace sign]

[More walking down a hallway as Takao finds a door]

[Takao flips through a strangely large ring of keys. Once he finds one with ‘BC’ crudely carved into it, she sticks it into the lock and turns it]

[He opens the door and walks into a living room. A man sitting on a couch looks up. This man is Aki Hiroharu. Hiroharu seems to be watching the news while eating something out of a bowl. Hiroharu looks shocked to see Takao, and may be about to speak, but immediately stops as he goes to cover his face with his arm]

[The camera shakes as Takao throws a step ladder at Hiroharu]

Takao: BITCH ASS-

[There’s a short few shots of the two fighting, clearly playfully, but neither seem willing to lose]

[Someone puts the camera down gently, walking back to the couch and resting their legs onto the open stepladder. The person is a fusion of Haruhiro and Takao, commonly known as Akito by fans. Akito continues to eat as they watch the news.]

[End]

#wow this is alot shorter than it looked on the google doc #slowly feeling less and less confident about this #aito takao #aki hiroharu #bnha oc comeback #Takao Talking #Kori stories

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writing-is-a-martial-art · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5. The Dark Lord Returns

A/N: If you think you skipped something, you didn’t. This character never appeared in the story before. This his introduction chapter. I love misnomers.

TW: dizzyness, concussion, ghosts. That’s all I could gather. Please tell me if there’s more

Word count: 1 395 words

For context (not necesarry for understanding but does provide some extra context): Rukard’s chapter

Chapter 5.

Where a very confused Dark Lord tries to understand... anything

“Are you awake?"

Squinting, he tried to understand what was in front of him. Everything seemed blue and blurry. A brown circle was floating in front of his face. His logic processor kicked in and informed him that circles don’t float, and, judging by the fact that it was a skin-colored circle, it must be a face. Okay. Someone was looking at him, bending over. How does he usually react to something like that? He searched for some remains of an established etiquette, but his mind was still far from clear.

“Person. Looking. Caring. Do what?” - that’s the closest resemblance to coherent thinking he could conjure. Giving up on trying to do the logical thing, he did the thing that felt the most comfortable and familiar. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he closed his eyes, ignoring the dizziness, and waited for a kiss. And then some. And then some more. Some part of his mind knew that feeling terrible + concerned face = care and loving support. But something wasn’t working. He opened his eyes, trying to understand what’s wrong. Everything was still blurry, but the face - he could now tell it was a face, so some progress there - was very close. He needed to communicate. His mind, building up its processing power, offered him the brand-new, revolutionary idea of speech.

“No… kiss?” - he constructed a sentence. The words felt like little bricks in his mouth, and pushing them out was hard work.

“That’s a new one” - answered something he identified as a voice “normally people start with a ‘where am I?’ or ‘who am I?’. But you have your priorities in order, don’t you?”

A few more seconds of painfully slow word construction and he said, as carefully as a person trying to multiply a four-digit number by a five-digit number in their mind: “those are… good questions… too”

“Okay, you definitely need some more rest” the face moved away, and, seeing how there was a big, cone-like thing under it, he gathered that it was attached to a body. With effort, he could even separate some details, like hair or arms.

“No, please. Answers?” he asked, and the words came to him easier this time. The figure stopped, its face-circle turned to him.

“Okay, if that will make you stop worrying. I can’t help you with the ‘who am I’ stuff - you can get all existential-crisis-y about it once you feel better - but as for the ‘where’ part, you’re on Marry Axling.”

A pause. He tried to find sense in the words the figure spoke. Those were words. They formed sentences. So there must be some meaning in them, right?

“Marry Axling?” he echoed, testing if the words would click the second time around.

“So you never heard of her?” the voice, much clearer now, sounded surprised, “She’s a bit of a legend around these parts. She’s a ship”

“Oh”, he answered, happy to realize he knows what a ship is. Big, watery floaty thing. Got it. After a little pause, he came up with another question “why am I here?”

“Well, that’s the easy part. We fished you out of the water. You were knocked out or something. Took you a good two days to snap out of it”.

“So you saved my life?!” in a wave of gratitude, he pulled himself up, intending to bow or do at least something to express how thankful he was. The floor made a wave-like motion and welcomed him with a hard, wooden landing.

“About that...” - the figure helped him up and offered their shoulder for support - “I think you should see for yourself”.

They half-dragged him to the wall, where something square and shiny was attached. A bit more concentration and squinting, and he could see two people staring at him. “Window? Door?” the options went through his head. With a quiet ding, the word “mirror” snapped into place. So he was looking at himself and the kind stranger. Now that he was standing and not moving, his vision started to focus again. He concentrated on the image, trying to understand what the figure was talking about.

He recognized the face, even though he couldn’t quite attach a name to it. Skin permanently stuck somewhere between dark tan and light-brown. Brown eyes, staring right back at him with a sparkle of curiosity. His long, dark-brown hair was now a nest-like mess. Looking down, he noticed a white shirt and a green vest - something that felt very familiar. So, no surprises there.

Still using the mirror, he studied his rescuer. It was a woman, slightly taller than him - which was more to say about his height than hers. Four thick, black braids were lying on her shoulders, escaping a tight bandana covering her head. She was wearing a simple, at-some-point-white shirt, spacious black pants, a black coat, sturdy, well-worn leather boots, and a tired expression. This combination triggered yet another chain of associations in his head that gave out the word “pirate”.

“Everything seems fine. What was I supposed to worry about?” he asked the woman, looking at her through the mirror, not risking turning his head. The dizziness eased up, but he knew it was still lurking somewhere near.

“Yeah, it’s surprising how many people miss it the first time. Look closer. You’ll see”.

He obediently stared at his somewhat shabby reflection again, trying to find what was wrong. All of his limbs were intact, and the face seemed in place, nose, eyes, and all. He lifted his hair and checked that his ears were there. Yes, both of them, just as before.

He tried to take in the bigger picture, taking a look around the room. That’s when he noticed it. He could see the bed. The bed he was lying in earlier, the one right behind him. He could see it, even though a little blurry, right through his own stomach. He turned his eyes to the woman. He could see her, and at the same time, he could see the little room behind her, like an aquarelle sketch on top of an oil painting.

“Oh”

“So, you see it now?” the woman looked at him

“Yeah...” he kept staring at his reflection. He remembered that creatures like these are referred to as “ghosts”, but he somehow felt that it didn’t apply to him. Despite all the weakness and the fog in his head, he felt… normal. He experienced this before. In a moment of clarity, he remembered where the kissing routine was from: that’s what normally happened when he was in this state. Someone close… someone very, very familiar took care of him in times like these.

“Is this… something I do a lot?”

“You tell me. I doubt it, though. It’s rare for people to have dying as a hobby”

“I’m not dead,” he tried to smile “I’m sure I’ll be fine after some rest”

“Step one: denial. Gotcha. I’ll give you time to come to your senses. For now, I better introduce you to the rest of the crew. Can you walk?”

“Not without help,” he answered honestly. The objects around him started to gain clarity and texture, but walking was now as difficult as talking was ten minutes ago.

“Okay, I’ll help you walk to the deck - it’s not far - and then you can just… lean onto something. You’ll be fine. What’s the worst thing that can happen to you now, right?”

“I could still die,” he argued. It wasn’t just defiance. Some part of him knew that he was alive. He had to be alive. Someone was waiting for him to return, any day now. He remembered a face - pale and always serious but not cold. Never cold. Not for him. The face had a name to it. This time, he didn’t have to concentrate to remember.

“Rukard,” he whispered. “Oh, no. He’d kill me if I’d die”

The woman, still supporting him, turned her head to look him in the eye, her mouth already half-opened to say something, when yet another transparent figure rushed through the door.

"Captain!" they called, their voice somewhere between panicked and bewildered, "there is an octopus… squid… lion… thing. It's swimming towards us. What should we do?"

Taglist (contact me to be added/removed!): @chazzawrites @apocalypsewriters @pagesofcursive @47crayons @lady-of-himring @wolfsong02 @annoyingwritingtrash @stardustspiral @zoya-writes @opes-magnas @cookiecutterwrites @run-journalist-run

One-time interest tag (I will not tag you again unless you tell me you’re okay with that!): @oblolongue , @drippingmoon, @loopyhoopywrites

#tw concussion #tw ghosts #tw dizzyness #jytfs #writing #writeblr #original writing #original content #wip #original story #oleg's writing

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catrasredemption-moved · 4 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to see your take on Catra's first spa day in Mystacor post-war, especially considering her issues with water.

It wasn’t that they were going to the place where Adora had basically sacrificed her life by taking the Failsafe. It wasn’t even that they were going to the place where Shadow Weaver had a fucking statue dedicated to her.

It was, ultimately, the steam grotto that was Catra’s downfall.

“Nope. No way. Forget it.”

“Aw, come on Catra!” Bow was leaning on the edge of the basin, full relaxed and grinning. “It’s fun!”

“It’s a giant tub of water.”

“So that thing about cats hating water is true?” Glimmer asked, tilting her head. Catra’s jaw clenched.

“Something like that.”

She didn’t want to tell them the truth. Especially not Sparkles, who would probably feel bad and blame herself-

A hand rested on Catra’s shoulder, jarring her out of her thoughts. Adora gave her a gentle smile. “It’s okay.” She knew Catra had a Thing about water, and she knew it had something to do with Prime, but Catra hadn’t given her all the details yet. “Come on, we’ll do it together.”

The water was warm. That helped a little. the pool of amniotic fluid hadn’t really been hot or cold, just... electrifying. Catra’s fur had been on end the moment she stepped in.

Now, though, she had Adora’s hand to keep her ground, and a few deep breaths were keeping her focused. It was okay.

Adora slid an arm around her waist to hold her steady once both legs were in the water. Bow and Glimmer were pointedly not watching in an attempt to give Catra some privacy.

“Do you want to try and sit?”

Catra nodded once, letting Adora slowly settle her into the water. It felt warm. It felt nice. It felt-

Painful, like nails being driven into her body, pinpoints of pain exploding under skin, hands drove her head under the water with no warning, no chance for her to scream or even stop breathing; she choked on the thick liquid, thrashing, the sound around her muffled-

“No!”

She nearly hit her head against the stone floor has she shoved herself out of the pool, scrambling back until she hit a wall. Voices were calling her name, barely audible over the chants of All beings must suffer to become pure. Her body ached, the back of her neck stung, and she immediately began clawing at it, trying to make it stop, trying to get the chip out, trying to-

“Catra, stop!”

Hands grabbed her wrists, a heavy body wrestling her to the ground. Let go, she wanted to scream, but her breath was caught in her throat. The air was cloying, suffocating, closing in on her, the chip was still in her neck, shocking her into compliance every time her mind slipped...

“No, don’t use magic, please. Just let me talk to her.” The hands around her wrists squeezed harder. Catra sputtered, coughing, trying to catch her breath. “Catra. Catra. I need you to focus on me, please. It’s okay. You’re safe. Just look at me.”

The world swam in front of her eyes, blurry, but she could make out a familiar blonde hovering over her. “Adora?” she rasped, tears filling her eyes.

“Yeah.” Adora said, relieved. “Yeah, it’s me. Can I let you go?”

Catra took a shuddering breath and nodded. Adora helped her sit up, letting her lean against the wall. Something sticky was dripping down her back. Glimmer had, at some point, gone to retrieve aunt, who was watching them both with a worried expression.

“How bad is the injury?”

Oh. That explained the sticky liquid. “C’mere.” Adora gently gestured for Catra to scoot forward, letting Castaspella examine the wound. She clicked her tongue, frowning.

“Okay. It’s a bit deep, but nothing life-threatening. I’m going to clean it up and bandage it, is that okay?”

Was it okay to let this person who was basically a stranger touch her? Of course not-

Adora gently gripped her arms, and nodded to Castaspella. “Will you tell us what happened?” Catra shuddered. “It’s about Prime, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Catra stuttered breathlessly. Adora pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Tell me?”

Catra met her gaze, shaking, and nodded. “A-After I sent Glimmer away, and his clones caught me...” She shuddered. “I knew what he was going to do. He’d... demonstrated earlier on Hordak and basically told me play my game or this is your future.”

“What was it?”

“He... He had this pool of amniotic fluid - you know, like the crap he fed his clones and used to keep himself alive. And when a clone got too out of line, like Hordak did, they’d just go into the pool and... zap.” She waved her hands. “One round of horrifying electrocution later, he had a shiny new clone with no personality.”

She hissed as Casta disinfected the wound. “He put you in that?” Adora sounded horrified.

“Yup. All beings must suffer to become pure. He said he was going to fix me, to make me better, less emotional, less angry, less... everything.”

I saw her mind... so full of rage and suffering...

Adora’s breath caught. She had to remind herself Prime was already dead. “They shoved me into the pool, and it...” Catra’s breathing sped up slightly. “It hurt so much, and then one of the clones shoved my head under, and I couldn’t breathe, and it was so much worse than anything Shadow Weaver ever did to me, and I-”

Her hands went for her neck again. Adora quickly grabbed her wrists. “No, it’s okay. Stay with me. Please? You’re okay. You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you.”

“He’s still in my head,” Catra whimpered, tears in her eyes. “He’s always going to be in my head. Just like he’s always going to live somewhere in the clones. He didn’t just chip me, he fucked with my mind, made himself a little home right in the back corner where he could watch everything he forced me to do. He...He...”

Casta finished bandaging the wound, and Adora pulled Catra into her lap, hugging her tight. “May I make a suggestion?” the sorceress said gently. “As you know, Mystacor is meant to be a place of healing. We’ve put a lot of time into studying different kinds of ailments and trauma, especially mental ones.”

“I’m not crazy,” Catra said as firmly as she could manage.

“No, you’re not,” Castaspella agreed. “You’re traumatized. You can’t process the events or the emotions without actively reliving them, and the longer that goes on, the harder it will be to move passed it.”

Catra hesitated, looking at Adora, who gave her a reassuring smile. “Does... Does it involve magic?”

“A little. It’s a potion. Something to help you relax, to let you think about things in a distanced way. It won’t fix all of your problems. But it will give you a place to start.”

It set off some alarms in Catra’s head. But she... wanted to try. Wanted to find a way to start moving passed all of this. Wanted to sit in a freaking hot spring with Adora and not worry about freaking out. Besides, this was Micah’s sister. Glimmer, Bow, and Adora trusted her. And she had sided with Catra when she had called Shadow Weaver out, like she recognized the woman’s bullshit when she saw it...

“Okay,” Catra finally said in a small voice. Casta smiled, waving a hand, and a small of swirling blue-green liquid appeared in her hand.

“It won’t taste the best, sorry about that. Unfortunately we haven’t found a way to combine flavor and effectiveness. Give it about fifteen minutes, and you should feel it start to kick in.”

Catra nodded, uncorking the vial and throwing back the contents. She grimaced, face twisting as she swallowed. “Still better than the brown bars.”

Adora laughed, kissing the top of Catra’s head. Bow and Glimmer sat on either side of them, hugging the girls tight.

“You knew what would happen,” Glimmer whispered. “And you still sent me away?”

“Don’t get too emotional about it, Sparkles.”

They sat in the silence of the steam-filled room, curled into one another, Catra’s head resting on Adora’s shoulder. “How do you feel?” Casta asked finally. Catra lifted her head, thinking.

“I... I dunno. Different?” She hadn’t realized how long she had been living on high alert. She felt relaxed, now, not waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Wanna try the steam bath again?”

Catra nodded. It went slightly better this time. The images in her head were still present, but as Casta had said, she felt disconnected from them. Like an observer rather than experiencing it. She settled into the tub, curling into Adora and taking a deep breath, closing her eyes. She had always hated water, that wasn’t new.

But this was tolerable.

#askbox fic #magic potions for mental illnesses exist change my mind #catradora #Mystery Person #Sam Answers

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nicka-nell · 3 years

Text

Prompt Event

Request: anonymous - 92 + 93 (nsfw) with sub!akaashi plss ^____^ thankyou!!

Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x reader Words: 1.307 Warning: nsfw, 18+, sub!akaashi

Promots: 92. Come on, I want the neighbours to hear you scream. 93. Try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?

Akaashi is an angel, beautiful and always wonderful to his beloved girlfriend. How he adores you and wants to show everyone that you’re the only one for him, his precious love. But this appearance is deceptive, because even Akaashi has his moments when he becomes a true beast and wants to prove to you that only he can make you really happy.

Only today it should be different, today you want to show him that you can also pull your claws out, show him where his place is.

Charmingly, as it should be for you, you say goodbye to your neighbor and also to Akaashi, whom you told that you are not well right now and want to lie down. Yet you go to your lovingly furnished apartment, to prepare everything for the coming night.

All that remains is Akaashi, who can’t let his anxious gaze off the door, who hardly has any focus on his neighbour and best friend Bokuto, or the two men Kozume and Kuroo, who were present at this small inauguration ceremony.

He still wonders what is troubling you so much, wants to come back to you, his love. So he says goodbye to the men, tells them that he may come back later.

But when Akaashi comes into the bedroom to check if you are okay, he sees everything but a sick girlfriend who wants to sleep. Because, you stand in front of him, in dim light, in his favourite lingerie.

This fine black, golden lace that barely covers your chest, whose panties look so inviting due to the golden shiny lace fabric, almost like a Christmas gift. He stands speechless in the room, his green blue eyes sparkle at you as you walk towards him with a seductive hip swing.

Without saying anything, you stand in front of him as you jerk him down on his tie to you, to give him a kiss on the lips before you turn around and draw him on that exact tie behind you. When you arrive in front of the bed, you skillfully turn around, look deep into his eyes before you let him fall down on the bed, as his head sinks into the soft pillow.

Still wordless you place yourself above him, link your hands with his before you lift them over his head and lean over to kiss him. Playfully you sip on his lower lip, lick it with your tongue before you get the entrance to his as your tongue dances together.

In him the heart beats fast, he doesn’t know what he has deserved, what he has made you happy with, that you like to make him so happy now, before he can take you in his favorite position, make love to you the whole night.

But here he thought wrong, yet one of your hands sneaks carefully under the pillow, reaches for the cold metal to bring it quietly to Akaashi’s hands, and to tie him with a clicking sound. Surprised he turns away from your kiss, looks up to see what is happening here, tries to free himself from the handcuffs as he looks back in your direction. In this bossy face, which makes him understand that he’s not setting the tone here.

“My love what…” He stutters confused, don’t know what's going on right now. But you only press your index finger against his lips, which is still wet from the kiss.

“Try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that my angel?” You answer him with a rasping voice and wait for his response. Without saying anything, he just nods, your finger still on his lips.

His nod is exactly what you want from him, because with a naughty grin your hands wander along his sides, down to his pants, which you open with ease and shove a piece down.

Contrary to expectations, his limb is not completely flaccid, yet it seems to arouse him somehow to see you like this. Smiling, you begin to massage his balls, drive your fingers over his tip and look deep into his eyes.

“My love, please take me off the cuffs, I want to touch your body.” But you’re just shaking your head, slapping him in the face for not listening to you and staying calm as you ordered him to. “Ah, ah, ah! Be a good boy for me.”

Now he falls silent again, looking at you with his beautiful eyes, his cheeks red with warmth, while his member in your hand begins to grow. “My love, don’t be like that.” he groans again as the first drops of precum stick to your fingertips.

Again you give him a clap in the face, think meanwhile that it pleases him since he does not want to remain calm. But he pinches his teeth, tries to stay silent for you now.

Slowly your head moves down to his dick, licking his entire length before you play with his tip and suck on it. Your eyes never leave his, look playful but also dominant at him.

Your soft lips, your warm tongue as it handily wraps around his cock, makes it hard for Akaashi to stay calm. How can he remain silent when you do him so well? If you wrap your tongue around his cock, as if you were eating a tasty water ice.

He senses how he will come at any moment, how everything on his dick is suddenly so sensitive and now tries even more to refrain from his moaning, instead humming quietly.

But you only raise your head annoyed and hear his whimpering, see his begging face that tells you that he wants to come. “What are you humming about? Do you want to come, my pretty angel?” You ask him rhetorically, because of course you know how unpleasant it is when you break off so close to your orgasm.

His eyes begin to sparkle like the stars in the clear fluid that forms in the corners of his eyes. “Please, my love, please let me come. I promise you I’ll be quiet!” he nods weeping, almost as if he felt throbbing pain.

But instead of moving your mouth down again, Akaashi only sees how the shiny saliva thread moves from your mouth, how it nestles creamy around his cock as you straighten up and place your pelvis over it.

With a sweet moan, you sink in, looking at Akaashi as he doggedly tries to suppress his murmur. But you can’t enjoy this beautiful sight, through the open bedroom window and the sudden voices that can be heard outside on the neighboring balcony. Loud laughter from Kuroo and Bokuto, Kozume’s annoyed sigh and this unpleasant music in the background.

Annoyed, you hiss before leaning forward and squeezing Akaashi’s nipples between your fingers. You want the boys to hear his voice, to hear you, and realize that they should be quiet.

“Come on, I want the neighbours to hear you scream.” With a grin you pinch his nipples as you move your lips to his ear. As if this pain wasn’t enough, you begin to ride on him, to drill your teeth into the flesh of his neck to elicit a loud groaning.

Full of joy, you grin as the music and laughter fall silent, when you feel Akaashi’s thick cum inside you, as it searches between his dick and your walls along the way out. “My love, that was wonderful, you are always so good to me.” He groans with flat breath as he looks up at you through his blurry eyes.

But you just lean forward teasingly and whisper to him that it’s not the end of that night before you look back into his dilated pupils and smile.

Now the boys also know that Akaashi will not come back to the party today.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi smut #nelas500

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nickkkwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

“To Comfort a Grieving Ghost”

Ao3 link.

Summary:

The ghost in front of him fell to his knees, embracing alone his hurting anchor. While Arthur is not good at comforting, he wants to ease his sadness.

He fell on top of a pile of empty boxes, way softer than the stone spikes he saw before the ghost let go. Noises were muffled, distant even, his head was dizzy and his vision blurry. It all had happened too fast. He was held above the cliff, a massive ghostly hand was the only thing that kept him from dying impaled by a rock, Arthur was going to die, he knew he should be dead, was this finally his sweet end?

Arthur took a deep breath to calm his nerves, instinctively his hand went to his forehead and his eyes fixated on something on the floor, when his vision came back to normal he realized he was looking at the ghost’s heart locket.

It was broken with hairline fractures across the gray surface, it beat at a slow pace, differently than when the ghost -Lewis?- had held him back at the edge. What was that shiny locket?

He didn’t think twice, powered by curiosity, his metal arm reached for it, he licked the locket with his thumb until it clicked under the pressure. Like a jackbox, it opened without a warning, Arthur’s heart skipped a beat and gasped by reflection.

A picture.

A picture of both Vivi and Lewis. He held her close, both laughing, happy. Arthur’s stomach twisted.

So it was really him.

The ghost who tried to kill him just a few minutes ago was Lewis.

Arthur held the picture closer, he swore he had seen it somewhere before, it was like a Deja Vù. Though, something was missing in the picture, but the blurriness didn’t let him see it clearly, why was it blurry now?

The heart shaped thing escaped from his grasp before he could figure out what was happening. He looked up to meet an angry -and slightly blushed- specter. Arthur crawled a few feet away from the wraith until a wall of boxes blocked his path, please don’t hurt me, the scared mechanic prayed.

He gulped hard, he almost choked on his own saliva. Eyes wide open followed the sturdy figure take a few steps -or the equivalent floating- towards the open gate of the truck. He abruptly stopped.

The ghost in front of him fell to his knees, embracing alone his hurting anchor. The blond man shrunk for protection, closed his eyes waiting for Lewis to attack him at any given moment. Nothing hit him, instead he heard a soft sniff.

Arthur’s mouth dropped, was he crying-?

The ghost shaked a little and sobbed quietly to himself as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear him tear down. The scrawny mechanic froze, his entire body stayed still, he wasn’t even breathing, Arthur began to panic. What was he supposed to do? Run away and leave him there, feeling miserable? Ask him what happened? Comfort him?

He had the chance to escape and check on Vivi and Mystery, he could leave him behind right now if he hurried up. But on the back of his mind, Arthur knew that wasn’t the right thing to do.

Gathering the courage he didn’t have, Arthur closed the distance they had, a hand lifted ready to be placed on the ghost’s shoulder…

“Lewis?”

The ghost growled at him, Arthur backed a little in surprise. Air vacated his lungs for a moment. What’s next, Kingsman?, Arthur smacked himself mentally.

“Are you- are you okay...?”

No response, the ghost sighed. It echoed very deep into his mind, it was terrifying how the sigh stung inside his head. Arthur frowned, something in his chest refusing to give up.

Arthur’s eyes darted among the shelves, looking for something, anything to distract the ghost with, literally any single thing was useful. They finally landed back on the heart the wraith held between his hands. The image had changed.

Now not only Vivi and Lewis were there but also Mystery and himself were included. Right! That was missing, Arthur thought, realizing where he had seen it before. He half smiled at the nostalgia.

“Hey, Lew,” the mechanic called gently. The ghost didn’t even mind. “do you remember- remember when we took that... pic?”

Arthur waited for no answer, he immediately sat down back-to-back and legs crisscrossed, the thin mechanic was terrified what he was doing, he moved and talked with confidence despite not having any but his subconscious had decided without his permission that he wasn’t moving from there until the ghost ceased his tears or he killed him with no mercy, whatever happened first.

“I do.” He continued. “It was on Vivi’s birthday, she got a- a new camera, she was so excited that she almost broke it. How clumsy of her.”

The mechanic laughed. “We took that photo thrice. The first because she left the lense cap on and the second one because I blinked. When she finally took it right she printed it and posted it everywhere. She was so happy.”

Temperature dropped, he felt chills from behind and he couldn’t help but warm himself with his vest. The star pin poked him, Arthur unpinned it and held it before his eyes.

“Ah! Also, I found the pin you gave me. I’m sorry that I lost it but I promised- I promised I’ll find it so I did! It was under Lance’s couch.” Arthur brushed some dust off the star’s acrylic, fidgeting a little.

“Y’know? I- I found it after you- you uh... went missing. I thought this would- would be a sign that I could find you and I... I kept it as a promise to you, that, no matter what, I would bring you back home.” He pinned it again with a sad smile.

Arthur felt shifting behind his back, the ghost relaxed a little.

And so, Arthur trailed off. He kept talking about what he missed, about the Peppers, Vivi doing something embarrassing, and about good moments they all had together.

Comforting wasn’t Arthur’s specialty. Usually he was the one who was comforted, he didn’t had the touch like Vivi or Lewis, who were better at listening and understanding, and had always been there for him, even in the latest nights they had sat down with him and hear him go on for hours and hours until he had fallen asleep; they were patient with their friend.

Arthur wanted to repay him somehow.

However, he didn’t know how to comfort a ghost.

But he knew how to comfort Lewis.

Lewis, who had been his friend almost all his life, Lewis who was safety and balance when he most needed it, who had lent him a hand when Arthur stumbled down. The friend who helped him to get back on his feet and was the gentlest and kindest person he ever met. Arthur knew that Lewis and he could help him.

He just needed to find him.

On the other side, probably Lewis didn’t even want company, his company, after he tried to murder Arthur, he supposed he was the last person the ghost wanted to see, but he ran out of ideas. Sitting there with him and not letting him bare with his feelings alone was the best thing he had come to. Talk to him so he knows he isn’t alone.

Arthur threw a glance at his friend. His back served as a firm barrier between them, he was still stiff. The mechanic’s shoulders fell as well as his head, what else could he do?

At this point, he was tired of trying. He only had the strength to do one last push and see if the ghost responded to his attempt of comfort. If it didn’t work, then Arthur was clueless.

One last push…

“Where were you, Lew?” He muttered, burying his face in his hands. “I looked for you everywhere. But it was like you- you just poofed out of this world.”

The blond man recalled the long nights driving across the state, looking for places where his friend could have gone to, dealing with Vivi and her ‘go to bed, now’s. Many nights spent on his laptop looking for clues but none of them gave results.

“I… I missed you.” Arthur brushed his hair with his flesh hand. “I missed you, Lew.”

Arthur’s head shocked against the dark suit, closed his eyes tiredly and gave deep slow breaths. He could feel the ghost’s back relaxing once again, the spectre’s shoulders fell entirely and his arms lowered almost completely. Arthur straightened up quickly.

The mechanic turned to see what he had done. The ghost’s imposing frame looked weak, about to break down to the softest blow.

Comforting wasn’t Arthur’s specialty, but he totally knew how to give the best hugs. He wasn't suffocating like Vivi or crushing like Lewis, instead he held a steady and supportive grip, just like his uncle did when he had nightmares or the phantom pain was unbearable. Lance wasn’t a tactile person, but knew how to hold somebody when they needed.

Arthur was on his knees now, unsure if a hug was the right thing to do. Lewis looked so down and the mechanic couldn’t just stand there forever.

Shyly, one arm went under Lewis’ sleeve to his chest and the other one lied across his upper back to his shoulder. The ghost jumped a little but didn’t protest against him, instead, he fell under the embrace. Arthur peeked up above the wraith’s suit to see the loket, it was closed now but still held carefully on top of his lap.

The large hand placed the loket on his chest where it floated just a few inches above the fabric. Arthur buried his face on the black suit. It was when Arthur realized how Lewis was warm, not like the human warmth but like an overheated lamp or a small campfire seen from the distance.

Suddenly, Arthur’s arms weren’t around his friend anymore but a pair of giant ones lifted him up and tangled around his torso and his cheek was warm. Arthur opened his eyes to meet a purple tie in front of him, Lewis was hugging him back.

A single, nervous yet happy small laugh came out of his mouth. Then he returned the hug.

“I missed you too.”

That was all Arthur needed to hear to shed a tear. And so both friends felt safe under each other’s embrace.

#nickkkwritesstuff #msa #mystery skulls #mystery skulls animated #msa arthur #msa lewis

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blubberingmess · 4 years

Text

Ready to comply [Android!Bucky x Fem!reader] chapter 2

*gif not mine*

Chapter summary: You're dizzy drunk last night, though you could vaguely remembered some of what happened. One of them is sticking one of your invention of that poor android's arm, deactivated it in the process.

It was early in the morning when you woke up with a massive headache, quickly taking the ibuprofen that's resting on your nightstand, although not remebring putting it there before sleeping.

Too tired to think about it, you took the medicine before making your way out of your bedroom.

"Good morning, (Y/n)."

"Son of a bitch! Who the hell are you?!" You screeched, placing a hand on your chest. Eyes still a bit blurry from sleep, you squinted them and saw an android standing still in the middle of your kitchen. Its hand behind its back, standing straight while staring blankly at you.

"Hello (Y/n), my name is... Bucky. Android B107 of CyberStark. Serial number; 103-678-3--" He began reciting his serial number all while scanning you from head to toe, although it looks like his checking you out.

[(Y/n);acquaintance]

[Scanning 'acquaintance'...] [Scanning complete]

[(Y/n);;; vital signs: 14% elevated ; "head"pain level>> 36%]

"Okay-okay! I remember now, fuck." You rubbed your temple while letting out an exasperated sigh. "Your making my headache worse."

["Head"pain level>> 40%]

"You asked me who I was, (Y/n)," Bucky points out matter-of-factly causing you to raise an eyebrow.

You scoffed, giving him a once over. "For an android, you sure are cocky. How long have you been standing there in my kitchen looking like a creep?"

"I've been standing here for approximately five hours, forty-three minutes and sixteen seconds."

You scrunched up your face before rolling your eyes, muttering a small "fucking creep" before making your way towards the stove to cook yourself some breakfast - surprise, surprise.

The android is completely unaffected by your words, turning his heels and started looking around your living area, scanning anything and everything like all androids would when positioned in a new environment.

Bucky is silent as a ghost as he walks around the living room and it slightly makes you uncomfortable knowing there is someone-- an android-- with you right this at moment inside your apartment yet not hearing anything.

It's like you're aware that there's a ghost beside you - it's just silent but it's there.

"So," you started, trying to fill in the silence. "What kind of android are you?" You're his owner right? Might as well get to know the android you've bought.

Bucky looks up from your plastic plant in the corner of the living room, eyes darting to the side to look at you. When he saw your back is faced towards him, he looks back down on the other plant -- this time, it's real-- beside the plastic one while answering your question.

"I'm a protector. My mission is to keep the humans safe."

The pancake you are cooking began to bubble on top and kept your eyes locked onto it as you questioned Bucky. "What? Like a bodyguard of some sort?"

Bucky turn his attention to the coffee table, analyzing the contents scattered on top of it. There's an empty pizza box and a half full uncapped bottle of coke, a bag of empty chips and a few used tissues with grease all over them; obviously from the pizzas and chips.

"You could say that."

His answer slightly surprised you, turning your cheek at him but not looking as your eyes focused on the tiled floor. "What?"

"I am programmed with skills most androids don't have. I am not like the DX line model for my biocomponents are much more advanced and my body can withstand most bullets and harsh climates," he explained whilst gently grabbing a picture frame.

It's a picture of a teenage girl holding the hand of another girl that looks exactly like you; much more younger and small, both smiling brightly at the camera.

[Scanning picture]

[Niki (L/n); age: 38 ;; year of birth: 3014 occupation: model at 'south of CSCV', and also known as Serpent]

[History: Adoptive daughter of (M/n) and (F/n) (L/n).]

"What kind of bullet is the most critical yet you can still handle?" Bucky heard you asked from the kitchen as the words and numbers cleared out in his vision.

".700 Nitro bullets." He answered, placing the frame back exactly where it belongs, like it never been moved in the first place. Bright blue eyes scanning the new information that appears in front that only he could see. His LED flickering from blue to orange then back.

[Searching >> (M/n) (L/n) and (F/n) (L/n)]

[Searching complete]

[(M/n); deceased, (F/n); missing ;; two daughters>> Nicki (L/n) and (Y/n) (L/n)]

"You're kidding me, right?" You flipped the second pancake before turning your whole body around to face your android, crossing your arms over your chest.

[New information found regarding (Y/n);acquaintance >> surname: (L/n)]

Bucky simply stares back at you with his usual blank, calculating eyes. "I am not," he replied.

"And CyberStark is planning on selling androids like you to the public?" That's downright stupid and dangerous. If an android like him gets into the wrong hands, who knows what could happened.

"It seems so." Bucky must've finished scanning your whole entire living room as he just stands there in the middle of the room. His arms behind his back and his posture straight as ever, awaiting to assist you if needed.

He doesn't really have to do that. You don't own him, he just followed you out of the store for reasons unknown to him. You're just the person who bought it... by force, too caught up on being drunk to actually know-- remeber-- what you've done.

You whistled, turning your attention back at your pancake. Not to your surprise, it's slightly burnt.

"Anything else I need to know about your model?"

Bucky answered without any hesitation. "As a prototype, CyberStark built me with two thirium pumps and if the public and the government ever approve with my model, CyberStark will change the design to the usual one thirium pump paper android like the normal android design." A pause. "I am also programmed to be able to engage on sexual intercourse."

"Fucking hell, a personal bodyguard and also a sex android? That's what I call 'safe and satisfied'," you smirked, picking up your plate of pancakes and began making your way to the living room.

You really have to try that later

You plopped down on your couch and started stuffing your face with your maple syrup drenched pancakes. It's not the best but you could care less.

Bucky's eyes follows you, not noticing the small click that sounded like a camera the moment he blinked his eyes.

"How much did I paid for you? A million?" You laughed. "My sister would be pissed!"

Bucky watched as you stuff your face with the greasy looking pancakes, contemplating if he should tell the truth about you not actually paying for anything-- basically stealing him from the shop-- or not.

"Wait, you said you're a prototype." You slowly chewed on your food, lifting up your head to look at him with a horrified look plastered on your face as the realization sets in.

"Oh shit. You're the prototype.... Oh, fuck, please tell me I'm wrong."

You're dizzy drunk last night, though you could vaguely remembered some of what happened. One of them is sticking one of your invention of that poor android's arm, deactivated it in the process.

Poor android, only doing it's job.

"You are correct." Bucky nodded his head before asking politely, "Is there something wrong?"

You were about to retort when a sound of loud knocking cuts you off before you can even open your mouth, making the two of you snaps your heads towards the door.

You cursed under your breath and moved your plate on top of the pizza box considering there's no more room to place it in the coffee table, and cautiously made your way to the door.

Glancing at the small screen attached to your door, you saw two men wearing suits and ties with matching sunglasses. One of them knocked a few more times before stepping back, both looking up where the small camera is placed, waiting patiently.

Bucky immediately goes and stood behind you, hands to his side and chest puffs out as he waits for your next move or his built in instinct, really.

Opening the door where only half of your face could be seen from the outside, you greeted the two men in suits. More like snapped a harsh, "What?"

Fuck being polite, they look sketchy as hell.

"We just wanted to ask you if you have a B107 android inside?" The bald one asked, his tone monotonous and gruff.

It took you all the willpower to keep your eyes at the two, silently hoping they wouldn't see the tall android behind you.

"Never heard about that model before. New?" You casually asked, resuming your act of innocence.

"Can we look inside?" The other man asked, ignoring your question. If it weren't for the lack of LED on their temples, you would've thought they were androids.

Unless they removed it, but you doubt they would do such thing. Only deviants have the 'guts' to physical remove their LEDs, which considered as a symbol of enslavement.

The revolution between humans and androids happened decades ago, androids are set free and finally have their own rights. Some became deviants, but some stayed the same; stone-faced, unsentimental machines.

But the two men in front of you, they look like they work for someone and you are certain it's not for CyberStark. You instantly knew because they don't have those shiny CyberStark logo pins.

"Why? I just told you, I never heard about a B107 before."

"Let us inside or we let ourselves in by force."

This is the moment you knew that they knew what you've done, that you have the android they are looking for.

"Fuck you," you growled before slamming the door shut, emergency locking it.

You quickly took Bucky's hand and sprint inside your bedroom, also locking it behind you. You grab your backpack from the hook behind your door and run towards your desk where your laptop, small gadgets, and inventions are messily set, shoving all of them as fast as you can.

The android analyzed your frantic movement, on guard as he quickly noted that the two men from outside are a threat.

"Bucky, let's go!"

"Where are we going, (Y/n)?" He calmly asked, tilting his head to the side.

You opened the window and slipped a leg out, glaring harshly at the android. "I don't know, but hopefully not in jail."

You both heard the front door slammed open and two sets of heavy footsteps sprinting towards your room.

Your heart jumps in fright and screamed at the android who is still calmly standing inside your room. Is he serious? Did you just bought a defective prototype of an android?!

"Come on you fucking scrap meta--" Your breath hitched when you saw one of his eyes quickly turned bright orange.

Bang!

🎧 Bang! bang! Into the room, I know you want it 🎶

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #android!bucky barnes #android!bucky barnes x reader #android!bucky barnes smut #android!bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader smut #android!bucky #android!bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #avengers x reader #bucky x chubby!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic

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