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crying-wolves · 9 months

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🪻 ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛʀᴇ ᴇᴍᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴇ!ᴀʙʙʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ 🪻

cw: 18+ MDNI!!! little bit of richgirl!abby, anxious!abby, little bit of loser!abby but i’ll let you be the judge of that, alt!reader, reader w/ tattoos + piercings, reader doesn’t care about their job, abby and reader are, like, 18 - 20, mostly fluff, petty theft, minor drug use (abby and reader get a teensy bit high), nsfw under the cut!

a/n: this is ENTIRELY self-indulgent cause i work at the movies and i think i would've liked my job better if Abby was there with me :) thank u so much for reading i love u so much i hope u enjoy <3

wc: 1.3k (a lot longer than i was expecting pls forgive me)

not proofread! im so eepy

dividers by @cafekitsune !

🪻movie theater employee!abby whose family is, as she likes to put it, ‘relatively well off’, so she’s never had to get a summer job before…

…but when her father emails her an application from their local theater, going on and on and on about how she could manage to learn a thing or two about responsibility and time management and a hundred other things she’s apparently lacking in, she doesn’t see any other option but to piece together a meager resume and send it in.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a response back almost immediately, because they’re just that desperate for new hires.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who shows up to her interview the next week in pressed black dress slacks and a perfectly ironed blue button-up, only to be met with the hiring manager’s tattered black jeans and stained work shirt.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s nervous as fuck during the interview and thinks that she’s taking too long to answer simple questions and tripping over her words, but the manager hires her on the spot, in like, 10 minutes.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who calls her dad on the ride back home to tell him the good news, is met with balloons that say ‘congrats!’ in big sparkly letters on the front and her favorite take-out when she steps through the front door.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who arrives on her first day on the job 20 minutes early. Spotless, bustling with excitement, and so, so unprepared to deal with all that’ll happen in the day.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who is introduced to you, after you arrive 10 minutes late, fruity energy drink in hand and sunglasses still hanging on the tip of your nose as your new trainee.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who initially thinks she’ll evaporate in the stuffy heat behind the concessions counter, suddenly feels an icy-cool wave move through her body when you shoot her a lopsided smile.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who can hardly hear a word you say as you explain what all the buttons on the register screen do…

…‘cause she’s too focused on the way your work pants cling to your thighs and flare out at the bottom. on the pretty tattoos sneaking up and down your right arm. on the shiny lip ring that a part of her strangely wants to lick at–

🪻movie theater employee!abby who squeaks out a “yep, yeah! uh, got it!” when you ask her if she has any questions.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who definitely does not got it. Not one fuckin’ bit.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who fucks up a whole lot, at first, and manages to oversalt a batch of popcorn, stock too much of the same candy, overcharge 3 separate customers, spill a strawberry soda all over the counter, get scolded by 2 old men, and burn herself on the hotdog grill.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who smells like butter and exhaustion by the end of her 4 hour shift, but brightens up when you tap a star-shaped sticker onto her shirt and mumble out an amused “see you tomorrow, trainee.”

🪻movie theater employee!abby who realizes she has to do this all tomorrow again and lets out a shaky sigh on the way back to her car

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s slowly getting the hang of it after a few weeks at the theater…

…getting compliments from customers, multitasking between different orders, knowing the back room as well as she does the flavors of the drinks you silently sip during your shifts.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s a little enthralled by you, even if you don’t really notice it.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s too afraid to ask for your number, so scours instagram for your contact instead.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who throws her phone across her bedroom when you finally follow her back one night.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who super smoothly asks you when you’re working so she can try to arrive at her shifts when you go on break.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who freezes up when you invite her over to the park bench in front of the theater and offer her some cajun fries and a hit from your cart.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes you up on both offers, because she’s starving and she wants you to think she’s cool.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes a bigger hit than you were expecting and is a little confused when you giggle at her sudden coughing.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who spends the next 7 hours of her shift trying to act normal, but sees you trying not to bust out laughing in the corner of her eye every few minutes.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a lot closer to you after that…

…who watches you undercharge a frazzled mother on her kid’s birthday, and doesn’t say anything to the supervisor. who sees you swipe a few chocolate bars from the candy cart to give to a group of kids in the arcade. who is certain of your favorite slushie flavor because your lips are always some different color everytime you come back from your too-long bathroom breaks.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who argues about which book-to-movie adaptation is the absolute best when the day’s going by slowly.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who sneaks into different showrooms where the movie has already been playing for a while with you so you guys can guess what’s happened in the plot before.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who hides with you in the stockroom to take a break from the yelling customers and screaming kids every once in a while.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who traces the outlines of your tattoos, all heart-eyed while she’s listening to you talk about the new superhero movie that just came out a week ago.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who places a hand at the small of your back when she has to squeeze by you to grab a bucket of popcorn for a customer.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a little green with jealousy when a customer compliments your piercings or makes a joke that really isn’t that funny to begin with, but you laugh anyways cause you’re required to be cordial with them.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s so stupidly thrilled when you kiss her after a rough closing shift and can hardly breath when she climbs into her car to drive herself home.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who is so very happy that her dad convinced her to get this stupid job in the first place.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT ! 18+ MDNI!

🪻movie theater employee!abby who lets you eat her out in the tiny bathroom stall in the women’s room on nights when the theater is dead…

…your left hand squeezing at her tits, your right stretching her left leg over your shoulder. She looks down at you, panting, shuddering, trying and failing to conceal the little huffs and content sighs that fall from her lips every time your tongue swipes against a particularly sensitive spot.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who makes out with you in the backseat of her car when your breaks coincide, and whines in pleasure as you grind your clothed cunt against her covered thigh.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who can feel her hand start to shake and her throat go dry as she scurries to the back when you call her from your bedroom, voice all pitched-up and needy, while on your day off. Words strained and quickening wet sounds coming from your background.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who almost gasps when you two are the only ones working the concessions counter and she feels your hand slide from her lower back to squeeze her ass.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s obsessed with the way you watch her expressions as you slowly finger her in the empty break room.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who hates that she won’t see you until next summer, but has a million different secret pictures and texts from you that she has saved in a locked file on her phone to get her through the year <3

#abby anderson tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson fic #abby anderson headcanons

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rosedominatesyou · 8 months

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Bedtime Stories w/ Rose

ੈ✩‧˚ Turkish Coffee ‧˚ੈ✩

(Bedtime Story #3)

Good evening my pretty puppies. I’ve got another interesting tale for you. You all voted pretty heavily for this one, probably thinking you’ll hear about me in a little maid outfit ;3 Remember to keep this story in your likes until you are all cozy and ready for bed.

Before reading: Everything I’m about to say is real and actually happened. I’ve withheld things like certain locations and last names to be respectful to the people in the story.

This time in my life I’m about to describe 100% shaped me as a person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it didn’t all happen. I kept an extensive journal the whole time and have written hundreds of pages already about my experience, hoping that one day I might publish my story. Though there’s so much I could say, I will try to summarize it within a 20 minute read.

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

Please look up the song, “So Wie Du Bist” by MoTrip. A song I heard on the radio while on public transit in Germany, its title translates into, “Just The Way You Are.”

I went through a pretty intense existential crisis my senior year of high school. Everything felt so bleak. I felt like nothing really mattered anymore.

My whole life, my parents were preparing me for college. One day at the dinner table in grade 12, I asked them if they would help me send in some applications. They laughed at me, and told me there was no way they could afford to send me to a university. I felt like they had lied to me my whole upbringing. What was the point of all the pressure if I wasn’t going to be anything anyway? How could they laugh like that?

My sister had just gotten back from an au pairship in Germany that was organized through a family friend, and during this same dinner conversation, my parents asked me if I was interested in doing that as well.

With no real goals anymore and spending my days sitting on the couch talking to my online friends on Xbox Live, I said fuck it, why not? I signed the paperwork and I would be sent out at the end of July. I didn’t know any German, but I was told that the point of being an au pair was to do a cultural exchange, where they’d teach me German and I’d expose them to regular English.

The contract I signed laid out two distinct parts of my job: to help the two children I’d be living with with their homework, and to be a live-in maid for the household. The plan for my days was always the same: get up at 8am and do any housework that the mom, Mrs. K, assigned to me, and then be ready to tutor the kids once they got home from school.

Things don’t ever turn out like we expect. We have all these ideas and hopes for how it’ll be, but we never really know. We can only guess and wait and see.

The family I was living with wasn’t German, they were a Turkish family and exclusively spoke their own language in their household. One of the first Turkish words I learned was “Anne”, meaning ‘Mom’. The second was “Yok”, which means ‘No’. The blue Turkish ‘Evil Eye’ will always make me think of them, as it was very important to their culture and had to be able to be seen no matter where you were in the house; they were everywhere, above every door frame, and in every room.

Mr. K was a dentist, and their family lived a very well-off life because of it. They owned two Porsche’s and their home was gorgeously modern: 4-stories tall with one level being a fully furnished basement. The color pallet of the home was white, with the outside being red brick. The walls on the ground floor that made up the kitchen and living room were essentially just massive windows, floor to ceiling all around the house, with huge zombie-esk shields that could be raised to cover the windows at night.

I was their little American trophy, and they loved to bring me to their friend’s homes for dinner to show me off. “Say word!” they’d encourage me.

The children I took care of were the most monstrous spoiled little brats I had ever met. The girl (I’ll call her D) was 12 years old at the time, and the boy (I’ll call him C) was 14. Two very hormonal ages for a kid and they had to suddenly spend half of their time at home with me. Originally, they were very insecure about their English, but they were both actually pretty smart, and could speak it very well. Our homework time was called ‘learning’ and they would always fight with eachother over who would have to go first.

The girl would throw tantrums regularly. If she didn’t get exactly what she wanted, she’d start stomping her feet and screaming her head off. One time when we went into town, she wanted to buy an umbrella from the store, and her mom said no. “Yok!” She was on the floor, kicking and screaming in front of everyone about how she never gets what she wants.

She was such a silly girl with me sometimes though, always wanting to laugh and poke-fun instead of learning. We’d be trying to do her vocabulary and she’d be asking me all sorts of things that had nothing to do with school.

“She messes with me by asking me random questions that throw me off. We spent the last 10 minutes laughing about how her cardigan made her look like a bat when she spread her arms out.”

The boy was devilishly smart, but his parents expected too much of him which caused him to slink away a lot. He would say some pretty racist things to me at times, things that would make me use google translate to try to show him how horrible his words were. He was well aware. The boy also had a silly side though, and would get so distracted during our learning time with questions just like his sister. They hated it when I said that they were very alike.

“C spent the first 8 minutes very eager to kill the fly stuck in the room. Once I got him to finally sit down, I had to stop teaching every six words because C wanted to talk to me about Destiny.”

My room was basically an apartment, located in “level 0” as I called it in my journal in the basement of the house. It had its own entranceway to outside, as well as my own kitchen and bathroom. It was pretty cool, and things were going really well until about a month into my stay.

The family planed a trip for all of us to go to the nearby city of Köln, or better known to most with the French spelling as Cologne. The Köln Dom is a very famous cathedral in the city, and we climbed all the way to the top to see the view, spending the day walking around and eating local food. It was wundershön. Towards the end of the day, when we were at a restaurant having dinner, one of the daughters of the family friends we knew invited me out to a night club later that evening.

I asked Mr. and Mrs. K if I could go, and much to my surprise, they said yes.

It was close to 9pm when N and her brother came and picked me up. We went to one of their friend’s house first to pregame. We sipped mixed drinks while we watched some of them play FIFA. It made me feel so cool. I was only 18, but the drinking laws were much different in Germany than they were in the states, so even though I wouldn’t be able to legally drink for another 3 years back home, I was of age here.

The club was exactly what I hoped from the underground German-club scene. The U I think it was called, we all piled together in an elevator that was crammed full of 30+ people that took us to the top of a skyscraper. The bouncer gave me the craziest look when I showed him my California ID. One of the boys we were there with snuck in a whole bottle of vodka that we all took turns drinking from as we danced. It was my first time in a club, and also the first time a random stranger started grinding on me.

Things were going great, until they weren’t. No one knew they needed to take care of me. I didn’t know either until my legs stopped working. I had never had that much freedom to drink alcohol in public, but the laws in Germany start at age 14 for supervised drinking, so all of them assumed I had been used to alcohol for years. We were leaving when my legs gave out. I don’t remember much after that. We were suddenly in the car and N was handing me a water bottle. Then they were telling me I was home, and to get out. They asked me if I was going to be okay, and I confidently waved at them and wished them goodnight.

I woke myself up by vomiting everywhere in bed. There was no time to run to the bathroom, it just happened before my eyes were open.

One of the rules in the house was no closed doors. The kids had to leave their’s open at all times (which made me really sad for their developmental needs), but that also went for me as well. I shut my door and went upstairs to have breakfast with the family. I forgot and started working on my cleaning duties when D came running up to me, saying that Anne was very upset. She saw my door closed and went in to check, seeing the throw up on the sheets.

This moment unfortunately changed everything. I was a good girl. I worked very hard. I never wanted to do a better job in my life. But now I was labeled as irresponsible, and lost my privileges to sleep in the apartment room. They made space for me at the other side of the basement, in a cold, windowless room that didn’t have any furniture, just boxes and the kids old toys meant for storage.

“It’s a strange feeling to wake up reaching for your stuffed animal and to remember that you’re not home. It’s even stranger when it’s in a bed that’s not even a bed. One that I woke up in this morning, sprawled out across two couches in the abandoned toy room of my host family’s basement.”

The days got bleaker from there. I had to keep track of any work that I did, writing down the exact amount of minutes in a calendar to make sure I did enough work. Some days, Mrs. K wouldn’t give me anything to do, and I would be standing there in front of her begging to assign me a task. She’d wave her hands and go back to watching her soaps, leaving me to just go sit somewhere and wait. There were days I only did 2 hours of work, when I had to get 6 done each day. It started to become a real burden to me. They would make me write down the hours I didn’t complete, even on days that they blatantly told me that they didn’t have anything.

The negative hours were adding up. At the end of it all, I had 14.3 hours they expected me to somehow fulfill. There were days where I worked 10 hours of just cleaning trying to make up the time.

“What am I supposed to do? How is that fair? How can they tell me that when I’m standing there asking for work and they say no? I’m more stressed out than I have ever been. I hope this is one of those things where if you face the storm and just keep moving then everything will clear and it’ll be okay.”

However terrible I felt, I did start to get used to our routine. Once the kids were done with their homework, it was my free time, and I eventually started taking the spare house key and announcing I was headed out. I knew they couldn’t stop me. I would walk around the neighborhood until it started to get too dark and I’d sluggishly take myself back home.

A river went through their backyard, and on the other side was a large city-owned cemetery. I would walk about 15 minutes down the road to the entrance, always making my way to a specific bench that faced one of the gravestones. I loved talking to her. It felt good to say so many things in English. People would see me and I just hoped they assumed I was grieving; they always let me be, which I truly appreciated so much.

The last straw was sometime in November. The plan was that I was supposed to be there through Christmas, and I had already experienced an Oktoberfest which was really very exciting, but I ended up filing for breach of contract and leaving early.

Their house was always under construction. There were workmen there doing something every single day, hammering or drilling or doing some kind of panelling. They didn’t like when they accidentally hired German workers - Mr. K only wanted them to be Turkish. A German boy named Ray struck up a conversation with me one day he was there doing landscaping at the house, but he was never invited back. I had dreams about running away with him, having him save me from the life I was living.

I was sitting in the kitchen one morning when Mrs. K pointed at the backyard for me to look. A dump truck was coming into their large yard and unloading dozens of uncut logs. I watched them for a moment and then asked, “Workers?” Mrs. K looked frustrated and said, “No workers. You!”

I wasn’t as strong as I am now, but even still, it was too much work for a single person to do. Winter was coming, and it snowed heavily in Germany so the family needed lots of firewood for the next several months. She had me hauling and stacking the logs in the shed behind the house all by hand. I wasn’t even halfway through the mountain of wood before I started to feel dizzy, my vision was fading and I was afraid that i’d pass out on top of the pile if I didn’t go inside.

I made the mistake of calling my mom. She freaked out, and when I woke up from my exhaustion nap, the damage was done. She called everyone involved, and had already bought me a plane ticket home. There was no changing it now.

D used to text me constantly after I got home, sending me videos of herself asking me over and over again, “When are you coming back?”

There’s so many things I regret about what happened in Germany. So many things I wish I could have handled differently. But there’s also so many amazing things that I was so happy to go see and do.

I loved Mrs. K’s cooking. I would do a little dance everytime we sat down to eat and it would make her smile so much. No one ever said thank you to her, so I always made sure to thank her for the meals she made. Her authentic Turkish cooking was to die for. Lamb and rice with dill and her brown lentil soup were my favorite.

I earned 1 vacation day every month I was there, so I eventually was able to save up 3 vacation days, and also used my 1 day off during a specific week to take a bus to London. It drove all through the night and then got on the ferry to cross the English Channel.

The whole experience living with this family made me very good at understanding people without English. It was incredibly difficult at first, of course, but I work with a lot of vendors at my current job where English is not their first language, and no matter what they speak, I will not have a hard time talking to them.

Even when things were rough between me and the K’s, we all still had lots of good moments. Just like any family. I know that they think about me just as much as I think about them.

“It’s amazing to not speak the same language, but still be able to understand a person’s emotions and body language. It really shows how we are all the same species, and all humans are very much the same. All of our laughs say the same thing too, and I think that’s really beautiful.” That’s the end of our story my sweet angels. I know it probably wasn’t what you were expecting, but I still hope you enjoyed it. Mommy got very good at cleaning windows because of these days in her life. Thank you again for reading, and I hope to hear what you think. ❤️

Sleep well babies xoxo

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

#rosebtstory

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fictoculus · 9 months

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౨ৎ a peek into their camera roll...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... itto

A/N... i'm planning to do this with more characters in the future, so lmk who's camera roll you'd like to see next!

✧ first and foremost, it wouldn't be itto's camera roll if it didn't have beetles! (he loves you more than beetles though, not to worry) there are beetles fighting, beetles on rocks, beetles on trees, beetles sleeping, beetles eating, even a beetle on his head, oh and a beetle on ushi. speaking of ushi, there are quite a few photos of him too, most of which when he's asleep or cheering itto on in his... courageous beetle battles.

✧ now that's over and done with, it's time to get to the more interesting photos, don't let him hear you say that though, you'll never hear the end of it.

✧ he has countless photos of you, probably hundreds, maybe even thousands, it's impossible to tell. initially, he had a folder named "my numero two-no", which he soon gave up on after returning home from your second date with 87 photos of you (and some of him too, his is numeru uno after all). let me share with you some of his favourites...

✧ a photo of him giving you a piggy back ride; his most prized possession. he misses you? he'll look at that photo. you're sad? well you're smiling now, because he's just sent you that photo. it's his home screen, his lock screen, his profile picture on almost every social media account he owns - the list goes on and on. shinobu is genuinely sick to death of that photo, and (mentally) retches every time she sees it.

✧ a photo he asked some passers-by to take of the two of you infront of the naganohara fireworks show, his right arm wrapped around your waist and pulling you close, his left hand holding up the peace sign. his smile is almost as bright as the fireworks themselves, lighting up your heart every time you look back on it. you're to the left of itto, also holding up the peace sign, but reaching up your other hand to hold his chin, squeezing his cheeks ever so slightly. he always says he looks silly, but you think he looks absolutely adorable and (of course) very, very handsome.

✧ last but not least, a series of photos showcasing the pair of you chasing each other around in an empty field. said photos were taken by genta (one of the arataki gang members), and not a single one of them is clear. scroll fast enough and it becomes a very blurry stop motion video of a beautiful couple chasing eachother lovingly through a romantic field of greenery... or atleast that's how genta put it. it was undeniably a complete mess, but the pair of you loved them nonetheless, and have laughed at them a hundred times over, itto's face mere moments before he loses his footing never failing to amuse you.

✧ anyone could tell from this man's camera roll alone that he absolutely adores you; the way his eyes shine whenever he scrolls onto a picture of you giving it away, whether you're beaming at the camera or pouting at itto, who was smirking back at you with a smug expression.

✧ there's a video that you don't even know about, but the oni finds himself watching over and over. it was taken, unsurprisingly, by the gang members from the perspective of a bush... can you see where this is going? once the camera is finally wiped clean and starts to focus, you come into frame, seemingly returning from a visit to the bathroom. it's crystal clear when and where this was recorded: yours and itto's first date. only after the 6 minute mark do things start to get interesting, the harsh muttering and whispered bickering silencing as itto leans over the table, inches away from your face but hesitating to get any closer... until you pull him in by the chin, pouring your entire heart out into this singular kiss. every time he watches it back, his heart skips a beat, remembering how you had been so gentle with him, yet showed him just how much you wanted him. it truly was a magical night.

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

#genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #itto #itto genshin #itto x reader #itto headcanons #itto fluff #fluff #genshin fluff #nb!reader #gn!reader #camera roll #itto camera roll #.typingptera

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tedcruzisthezodiackiller · 2 months

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It’s so obvious that so many young women are being drawn into the trad wife lifestyle because capitalism. when young people are having to work 3 jobs just to afford rent and groceries and still have to live with roommates, and most “careers” require years of experience, and so many well paying jobs have hundreds of applicants and you can literally send dozens and dozens of applications out and never hear back, of course you’re going to get young women thinking it would be nice to be a stay at home mom and bake all day and be taken care of. I’ve caught myself watching these videos and getting caught up in the propaganda and I’m a dyke.

but obviously the tradwife lifestyle is not the answer. when you rely on someone else to be your sole source of income you open yourself up to financial abuse. I just watched a video from a woman who dropped out of college at 19 to become a stay at home mom. She started her own business but because she was Mormon as a women she wasn’t aloud to run it, so she put it in her husbands name but still did work behind the scenes. flash forward to now, when she’s in her forties, her husband left her, and she’s raising 3 kids alone, unable to get a job because she was unemployed for 20 years and all the work she did at her company was under her husbands name.

I just wish someone would talk to these girls about anti-capitalism instead of letting them fall into these traps. everyone is fucking sick of grind culture and tradwifeism is not the solution

#get these girls to a mutual aid group #the tradwife stuff is a more insidious version of cottage core #fantasizing about leaving grind culture behind and living off the land

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arakawa-division · 3 months

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Dieu's Thoughts on Katsushika Division

Akihisa Mashiro

"Akihisa Mashiro. I've never met the man, which is ironic since my work often took me to a multitude of places. I mean, if I had the great fortune of meeting the legendary "Black Dahlia", then I suppose my path should have crossed with the legendary man known as "The Reaper", correct? Well, unfortunately, I've not had the great pleasure of meeting him. ...Though looking at him now, I certainly wouldn't be averse to the idea. He has a certain... sang-froid that most men lack. ...Although I doubt Alexis would be happy with me. She and this man... they seem to have a history. Color me curious..."

Touya Kisaragi

"Ah, I remember this young child. He was the one whom I sent some of my rings to for that 'Secret Santa' business. I sincerely hope he enjoyed them. Truth be told, those were the best out of my collection. After reading up on his childhood, I felt that sending him nothing but the best would be insulting. I've always had a soft spot for kids like him. His past, sad as it is to say, is something that happens on a regular business. During my time as a child soldier, I saw young girls and boys like him who were forced to sell themselves to earn money for their families. What was really disgusting was the fact that there were actually adults who paid for them. It always made me sick to my stomach to see. And people wonder why he turned out the way he did..."

Rintaro Himura

"We have a guy like this back in the Triad. He loves making homemade bombs that he likes to use on our enemies. Unfortunately, he gets overzealous whenever he sees fire, so he goes a tad bit berserk. As such, the Triad decided to only unleash him when they need to make a point. But anyway, I hear this guy terrorized Japan for some time with his arsons. I'll admit, the Triad would have a use for someone like him. I'll have to ask Auntie when I'm done with this assignment."

Death Row Block

"When you've worked with people who have been on the wrong side of the law for most of your life, you learn to be less judgmental of people. Yes, society may look wrongly on these three for the things they've done. But in the big picture, is what they've done any worse than what anyone else has done? Akihisa's a hitman, but there are people who have killed indiscriminately before. Touya and Rintaro are both killers who've murdered hundreds of people, but what are the circumstances that led them to that? What I'm saying is, yes these three may be on the wrong side of the moral scale, but nobody in this world is perfect."

"...Still, I am looking forward to facing them in the D.R.B. They can consider this their application to getting into the Triad."

#hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypnosis microphone #hoàng diệu #arakawa division #sounds of silence #katsushika division #death row block #akihisa mashiro #touya kisaragi #rintaro himura

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mueritos · 2 years

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If it's not too invasive to ask, how did you go about changing your name? Did you get a lawyer to help with your case or go in on your own? What kind of questions were asked in court? Was the process as a whole easy to do?

I did not get a lawyer! You don't really need one. I changed my name in PA, and the process can be different according to your state and county. I was actually counseled through the trans organization that gave me my name change grant, PA Trans Equity, and they have instructions on their website. Overall, the process was easy, just tedious and a bit nervewracking if youve never been to court.

You start out filling out paperwork and then getting your fingerprints in order. You fill out the name change application and the waiver for the publication fee (which you can waive if you can prove that publishing your name change publicly can put you at risk of danger, which isnt hard to prove), and then you get your finger prints done.

You show up to court with a couple hundred bucks (I had $300 with me) and you're instructed on where to go. Usually you go down to the prothonotary office where they make copies and then tell you to go to a courtroom. Making copies may cost you a fee. There you sign in and then wait until youre called in, where you might have to wait a little until it's your turn. Once they call you up to the podium, you say something along the lines of "good morning/afternoon your honor, I am requesting to petition for a name change". They might ask you why and that's easy to explain. If all goes well, the Judge will ask when you're available to come in for the hearing, they'll approve the petition and the waiver, and then you're given your next courtdate.

Afterward, you go back down to the prothonotary office where they will make copies of the second hearing. They'll usually tell you to go to a recorders office where you need to pick up paperwork to get notarized that basically says you owe nobody any debt/mortage. Being in court and going back and forth between offices can take up to 3-4 hours.

Between your next court date, you'll have to get that form signed by a notary. Mine cost $5 bucks and I found one across the street from where I live. Super easy and takes no time.

At your next court date, you take all of your documents back and your notarized form. You head down to the recorders office before your court hearing and they sign off and give you a copy for the judge. Then you head to the courtroom and wait until your turn. It can take up to a few hours until your turn. Once you're in, you do the whole shebang all over again "your honor Im here for name change", they might ask you why you changed certain parts of your name (they asked about me adding on another last name and if its for fraud, just say no obviously lol) and you have to just flat out say youre a transgender person. Show up to your hearing in the preferred clothing of your gender, it can help prove that you're forreal about the change (lol). If all goes well, you're only at the podium for a few minutes as the judge signs off on stuff. The copies are sent to the prothonotary office.

Afterward, you head to the prothonotary and buy as many copies of the court order as you need. I bought ten and it cost me $58. Once you get those copies, you're officially you!

It took me about a month to get everything settled, but it was very quick because my county is pretty liberal and the judges sign off on a lot of folks who go through the org who helped me :) Again, this can be different according to your county, so i suggest calling your local court administration office and asking them to send you a packet for name change application. They'll mail it over for free and even explain some stuff for ya. The packet should include the application and instructions. Good luck!

#muertoresponds #it was mostly tedious and the worst was getting the fingerprints #becuz i was told i cud go to my municipal barracks and those cops were fucking useless of course #so they told me they didnt do them after making me come back twice #so i went to a state police barracks and it was chill it was also free #that state trooper was just like whats up and i was like hai LOL #so if u need fingerprints done just go straight to a state police barracks and call ahead of time in case u need an appt

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 10 months

Text

things that shouldn't be a thing in the process of job-hunting:

• constantly having to your junk/spam etc email folder in case a certain employer's rejection or invite for an interview goes there instead of your main email inbox

• employers taking their precious time with going through their applications. like dude, I applied a WHOLE ass MONTH ago. where the fuck is the response???? okay, dgmw, I know they might get hundreds of applications. but waiting like 2 or more whole ass months for a response is just fucking annoying. tell me you're not going to bother pursuing my application so i can rest and stop checking my inbox for your response.

• to continue from the above point: i took time applying for this job, wasting the better part of an afternoon applying for it..... and now I don't hear back for a month or so or even more in some cases (the classic 6 month wait for some shitty retail christmas job that I applied for during uni just to be rejected.... and also a local metal manufacturer losing MY application in THEIR SPAM FOLDER for 3 MONTHS, again while at uni). just. I'm over it. just brutally ignore my application or send me an auto reject so I KNOW that I dont have the job and I'm out of the running for the job.

• an employer giving the option to apply for a job through a job site's default job link but seeming like they won't bother checking it (this is happening now for one job that I applied for at the end of may or something).... like do you even check these default link applications or just the email ones??? again, if you're taking this long, just send me my default rejection or "unlikely to progress with your application" email through the job site (which actually goes through to my junk box). just give me an indication of where I stand

• ok I know I could ring to ask to speak with any of the place's HR teams etc... but I learnt being persistent with asking for the progression of your application is actually quite frustrating for the person on the other side, for the place you have to ring.

my case in point: I took a load of these calls last year from one job candidate for the place I was working at for my cadetship. this lady rang like sometimes at least 2 to 3 times a day, chasing the HR team to respond to her application. most of the time, I wouldn't patch her through, so instead, I would send an email or call the HR lady's voicemail to see if she'd respond. like if you're THIS persistent, idek if you're going to get the position tbh. it's just a run-around for the back office workers to try to hunt down HR for the 4th time you've called in one day. I get it. you WANT the job. but maybe being this persistent is laying it on a bit too much. I honestly don't know. maybe this woman did actually get the position in the end.

but I'll always remember, whenever this woman called when i was on the front reception desk, the other receptionist training me always made wry remarks that the woman was just a bit too pushy. and for crying out loud. HR will get to your application when they get to your application. be patient instead of being pushy. like I don't know where I fully stand on this. but I've never rung to ask my progression in the application process. I just wait it out, even if it does take forever.

just yeah. I hate job hunting.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #ilona's job hunting thoughts and woes lol #ilona's work thoughts #although me applying for government and uni or tafe jobs is kind of why i'm getting such LONG application times #every one of those entities take at least a MONTH (if not more) to get to your application and actually respond #but it's still annoying asf

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cutecherrygirl · 9 months

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Hey guys! So im really exited for this cuz I've seen this movie hundreds of times and I fell in love with it and I just cant help but imagine Hyunjin and Jisung in this so enjoy! Ill try making this as poetic abd beautiful as possible! I even made a cover 🤭🤭. I wanted to do it on wattpad but idk if anyone would read it tbh so Ill do it here but if y'all want I can write it on wattpad too❤️, and this will be in many many parts ❤️

This will mostly be in Jisungs POV but it might change through the story cuz yeah.

Also Jisung is Elio and Hyunjin is Oliver

This is how I imagine them in this story:

Warnings: boyxbox

Pt. 1

Alma de mi vida

if not later, When?

Jisung POV

"Later!" The word, the voice, the attitude.

I'd never heard anyone use "Later" to say goodbye before. It sounded harsh, curt, and dismissive, spoken with veiled indifference of people who may not care to see or hear from you again.

It is the first thing I remember about him, and I can hear ut still today. Later!

I shut my eyes, say the word, and I'm back in Italy (yes this will be in Italy, sorry 😭), so many years ago, walking down the tree-lined driveway, watching him steo out of the cab , billowy blue shirt, wide open collar, sunglasses, straw hat , skin everywhere. Suddenly he's shaking my hand, handing me his backpack, removing his suitcase from the trunk of the cab, asking if my father is home.

It might have started right there and then: the shirt, the rolled - up sleeves, the rounded balls of his heels slipping in and out of his flip flops, eager to test the hot gravel path that led to our house, every stride already asking, Which way to the beach?

This summer's houseguest. Another bore.

Then, almost without thinking, and with his back already turned to the car, he waves the back of his free hand and utters a careless Later! To another passenger in the car who was probably splut the fare from the station. No name added, no jest to smooth out the ruffled leave-taking, nothing. His one-word send-off: brisk, bold, and blunted -- take your pick, he couldn't be bothered Which.

You watch, I thought, this is how he'll say goodbye to us when the time comes. With a gruff,slapdash Later!

Meanwhile, we'd have to put up with him for six long weeks. I was thoroughly intimidated. The unapproachable sort.

I could grow to like him, though. From sharp jaw to rounded heel. Then, within days, I would learn to hate him.

This, the very person whose photo on the application form months earlier had leapt out with promises of instant affinities.

Taking in summer guests was my parents' way of helping young academics revise a manuscript before publication. For six weeks each summer I'd have to vacate my bedroom and move one room longed to my grandfather. Durning the winter months, when we were away in the city, it became a part time toolshed, storage room, and attic where rummor had it my grandfather, my namesake, still ground his teeth in his enteral sleep. Summer residents didn't have to pay anything, were given the full run of the house, and could basically do anything the pleased. Provided they spent an hour or so a day helping my father with his correspondence and assorted paperwork. They became part of the family, and after about fifteen years of doing this, we had gotten used to a shower of postcards and gift packages not only around Christmas time but all year long from people who were now totally devoted to our family abd would go out of their way when they were in Europe to drop B. for a day or two with their family and take nostalgic tour of their old digs.

At meals there were frequently two or three other guests, sometimes neighbours or relatives, sometimes colleagues, lawyers, doctors, the rich abd famous who'd drop by to see my father on their way to their own summer houses. Sometimes we'd even open our dining room to the occasional tourist couple who'd heard of the old villa and simply wanted to come by and take a peek and were totally enchanted when asked to eat with us and tell us about themselves, while Halmoni, informed at the last minute, dishes out her usual fare. My father, who was reserved and shy in private, loved nothing better than to have some precocious rising expert in a filed keep the conversation going in few languages while the hot summer sun, after a few glasses of rosatello , ushered in the unavoidable afternoon torpot. We named the task dinner drudgery -- and, after a while, so did most of our six-week guests.

Maybe it started soon after his arrival durning one of those grinding lunches when he sat next to me and it finally dawned on me that, despite a light tan acquired durning brief stay in Sicily earlier that summer, the color on the palms of his hands was the same as the pale, soft skin of his soles, if his throat,of the bottom of his forearms, which hadn't really been exposed too much sun. Almost a light pink, as glistening and smooth as the underside of a lizard's belly. Private, chaste, unflaged, like a blush on an athlete's face or an instance of dawn on a story night. It told me things about him I never knew to ask.

It may have started durning those endless hours after lunch when everybody lounged about in bathing suits inside and outside the house, bodies sprawled everywhere, killing time before someone finally suggested we head down to the rocks for a swim. Relatives, cousins, neighbours, friends, friends of friends, colleagues, or just about anyone who cared to knock at our gate and ask if they could use our tennis court -- everyone was welcomed to lounge and swim and eat and, if they stayed long enough, use the guesthouse.

#hyunjin #han jisung #skz imagines #stray kids #skz #straykids #skz hyunjin #skz jisung #hyunjsung

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pridelong · 2 years

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inanotheruniversemusings · 2 years

Text

cont. of (x)

Kara stares at the phone she’s holding in between her hands, waiting for its telltale buzz. She had sent a message to Lena’s mom minutes ago, asking if it was safe for her to go inside Lena’s room.

(Half of her still can’t believe she’d said safe, as if she’s walking into a land full of mines and one wrong step she takes would tear her from limb to limb. When this is Lena, the one person who vowed she’d never hurt Kara on purpose.

Yet, who are you tore her apart—a bomb flung straight to her heart.)

Through the entire wait, she bounces at the balls of her feet, her toes curling with both anticipation and anxiety when she hears the soft ding and her screen comes to life.

Kara swallows the tight knot stuck in her throat before pulling her message application up to read the reply.

She’s still sleeping

Some form of relief eases the tension on her shoulders, though the way she holds onto the sling of the bag hooked on one shoulder is still tight.

It hasn’t even been an hour since she left the hospital to get Lena’s stuff, and now she’s back, surreptitiously praying that she can spend a few more minutes with her. She’s never thought she’s the needy type throughout their relationship, but between Alex’s Kara, there was an accident and Lena asking who she was the first time she woke up long enough to make sense of things, Kara finds herself clutching at the smallest moments.

And if she could frame each, she would; freeze every second in time, bottle up all the smiles Lena had and would have thrown Kara’s way.

Because she might wake up one day to Lena smiling that smile that’s always been for her at somebody else. And Kara would only have four years’ worth of memories and these small moments left carved on an empty chest.

...

With what’s little left of her bravado, she twists the handle open, pushing the door slowly so it doesn’t creak. Lena’s sleep tends to be light—this Kara knows and found out the hard way—and she refuses to risk this one chance by being clumsy.

She’s welcomed by Lillian who squeezes her on her shoulders as soon as she comes into view.

“I got her things,” she whispers in greeting. The hand not clutching the sling hovers above the older woman’s elbow, with Kara not quite knowing what to do with it.

Though before she can return the affection, Lena’s mom is already pulling away. So Kara simply unhooks the bag full of Lena’s belongings, placing it on one of the vacant chairs by the door.

Then, she ambles to where Lena’s brother is. Lex—a very strict-looking man who has probably spoken a grand total of one hundred words to Kara, from the day Lena introduced her to him and her mother and up till now—only offers a single nod in response.

He returns his gaze at his sleeping sister, a chance Kara grabs to take a good look at him—at the man who bears the same eyes she stares at every night before she falls asleep.

Lex’s tie is loose and askew, hanging low around his neck. His coat is haphazardly thrown over the back of his chair, revealing the many folds and wrinkles all over his crisp white dress shirt. He looks harried in the worst ways, in which Kara presumes he must really be, what with needing to fly back all the way from the other side of the world as soon as Kara told him the news.

Kara can’t help but take comfort at this sight, at the fact that despite not having earned his blessing fully, Lena’s brother will always love his sister; will always put her well-being first over his very own comfort.

She throws him a grateful smile even though he can’t see before rounding the other side of Lena’s bed. The hi, baby she mutters as she leans over is the softest whisper; Kara herself almost doesn’t hear it.

She lets her lips brush at the top of Lena’s hair, planting a light yet lingering kiss. She still smells like Kara’s shampoo and that sends a pang of longing straight to Kara’s chest as she breathes her in.

She feels a comforting hand on her shoulder. When she looks, she sees Lillian smiling fondly at her.

(And if she blinks, Kara swears she can see Lena’s smile.)

A thick, fleece blanket is clutched in her other hand, a dark blue one that she pushes for Kara to take.

“The doctors made their rounds while you were gone,” Lillian explains.

Kara straightens up, making sure to put some distance between her and the bed before speaking. “How was it?”

“She could barely open her eyes. She’s so tired she’ll probably sleep through the night.”

“Th—that’s a good thing, right?” Kara asks, fingers curling on the blanket pressed against her chest to quell the urge to step back to Lena’s side and slide her hand against Lena’s own. “She’d be able to rest.”

“Yes, definitely,” Lillian agrees. “But what I’m saying is… you should stay, Kara.”

At that, Kara frowns, sending the older woman a puzzled look. Because leaving is something she never planned to do, and she honestly thought Lena’s mom already knows that.

“I am. I’ll probably hang around the waiting area though, just in case she wakes up.”

“I meant, stay here,” Lillian clarifies with a soft chuckle. And yet, she can’t help but be more endeared, because all Kara has ever done from the start is to think about her daughter first before anything else.

(She’s always had a soft spot for the younger woman despite her son’s doubts. The day she met her, Lena had been a ball of both nerves and that subtle excitement her daughter couldn’t quite contain.

She’d watched her zip in and out of their kitchen as she prepared dinner, watched the sparkle in Lena’s eyes shimmer when their bell rang and Kara stood at their front door, shyly offering the scones she brought with her since it was hers and Lena’s favorite.

Her heart had grown warm, full, almost bursting at the seams because Lena smiled a smile that she hadn’t seen. Like she had finally found the half of her soul, and ultimately, that had been all Lillian ever wanted for her daughter to have.)

“Go take that seat, Kara,” she presses on when it looks like Kara is going to refuse, jerks her head to point at the empty chair right behind her.

Kara twists around, eyeing it with hesitation. Though her everything is screaming for her to just plop down onto it and be with Lena.

But she knows she can’t just do that, no matter how much she wants to. So she turns her gaze back to the older woman, and asks, “But what if she wakes up and she asks why I’m here?”

“We’ll think about that if it happens. But for now, just sleep.”

“I—” Kara tries to say. Yet, all it takes is just one glance at Lena, and the resolve she’s spent days on building crumbles effortlessly. “Okay.”

...

She’s feeling weak by the time she does get to sit, as though all the pent up things within her are suddenly rushing out of her system.

It’s as if the exhaustion from her listless days and sleepless nights combined, and the bleakness in between those days where she ran on autopilot are finally catching up to her.

It’s honestly a miracle that she’s not falling on her face, or plopping down on the closest comfortable surface that just happens to be the same mattress Lena is sleeping on.

Though, she almost does—almost crawls into the bed and burrows herself onto Lena’s side the moment Lena’s mom turns off all the lights, save for the dim light above the head of Lena’s bed.

Maybe it’s because of the day—this day; maybe it’s out of habit; maybe it’s the intense feeling of missing Lena that’s hitting her harder this time, even though she’s right in front of her.

But Kara manages to hold on onto the last bit of restraint, all the while telling herself that she’d rather have Lena like this, than not have her at all.

So she props an arm on Lena’s mattress, just like how she’s done the last few nights, and carefully picks up Lena’s hand, letting it rest on her exposed cheek as she revels at the ample warmth that Lena’s palm emanates.

Lets Lena’s peaceful face be the last thing she sees before she closes her eyes and whispers into the dead of the night, even though no one but herself would hear it.

(A part of Kara thinks this is how it’s going to be from now on: her shouting into the void that is Lena’s missing memories, and Lena having no idea at all.)

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

#supercorp #myfics #snippets #i stand by good mom lillian luthor #bec lord knows lena deserves it

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crashedwave · 2 years

Text

February Drabble Challenge - Day 27: Envelope

“Just open it already!“ Amy exclaimed, she was sitting in a chair in the Bellas’ living room. The rest of the girls had gathered around in various seats or even standing. The room was full, but it was quiet, everyone was waiting.

Emily was standing off to the side, unable to sit down. She kept putting her hands in and out of her pockets. “Just, like, rip the bandaid off.”

“Give her a minute,” Chloe said, her arm was around Beca’s shoulders. The pair sat on the couch, pressed together on one end, Ashley sat on the other.

Beca wasn’t listening to any of them. She had a large envelope clutched in her hands. It had arrived a few hours ago but she had put off opening it, scared of the contents. All of the Bellas had come together to support her. Even Aubrey – who had never been on amazing terms with her – made the trip.

This was a big deal. Or the ‘biggest deal ever’ as someone put it. Beca had submitted an application to a recording studio. And it wasn’t just any recording studio. This was one of the biggest in the country, and they had reached out to her, encouraging her to apply. Chloe had said this was a good sign, but Beca was nervous.

It would be so easy for them to chuck her demo in the trash and just send a standard rejection number. They probably had a special button for it. Studios rejected hundreds of people right?

“Just open it, chica, it’s not going to murder you.” Flo offered, a few girls around the room nodding.

“And whatever it says, we’re here for you and we love you,” Chloe added

“Well…we’re here for you, the whole love thing? Ehh, I don’t do alphabet mafia stuff, I already have enough mafia stuff to deal with.” Amy threw in.

This earned a laugh from Beca, mainly because it gave her something else to focus on for a moment. She looked up and around the room, feeling so thankful for all these dorks. Next year, after they all graduated, would be hard. She’s not sure what she was going to do about not seeing them every day.

But that was tomorrow Beca’s problem.

Today was about this envelope.

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

She flipped it over and ran her fingers under the flap. The seal came up easy and she pulled the paper out. Her breath hitching on the first words on the sheet.

Chloe looked over and tightened her grip on her shoulders. Beca didn’t have to look over to know she was crying.

“Damnit Mitchell, what does it say? We going to the Grammys or not?” Cynthia-Rose asked, she stood from her place on the floor and moved to take the paper but pulled her arm back.

Beca’s hands were shaking, she was silent and she read and reread the paper.

There was no way.

Surely it didn’t say what she thought it said. There had to be some explanation because this didn’t make any sense.

“Becs, tell them,” Chloe whispered.

Beca nodded and took a deep breath. She looked up at the room, man did she love these girls.

“I got in, this is my contact!” She beamed, holding the paper up for everyone to see.

The whole room exploded with cheers.

“I know you’re basically married to Chloe, but I’m your plus one for all award shows.” Amy declared.

“Can you get me a job at the reception desk?” Came Stacie’s voice.

“Oh my god, Beca! This is amazing!” Emily shouted

A hand landed on Beca’s shoulder and she looked up to see Aubrey. “I’m really proud of you, Mitchell.”

Beca’s heart swelled, hearing that from Aubrey was almost as good as landing this deal with the studio.

Almost.

“I love you so much,” Chloe told between planting kisses on her cheeks “I knew you were going to get it. You’re amazing.”

Beca couldn’t stop smiling.

After graduation was going to be scary, but it was also going to be a great adventure.

#bechloe #february drabble challenge #my fic #envelope #beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey posen #fat amy #emily junk #cynthia rose #flo fuentes

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

Note

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

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As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home.

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose.

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you.

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one.

“Oh you look terrible.”

“Thanks I feel terrible.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his.

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—”

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went, exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.”

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.”

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry.

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead.

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled.

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger.

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared.

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date.

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—”

“Oh that won’t be necessary.”

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips.

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then.

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch.

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven.

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question.

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake.

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off.

“Ah fuck what now.”

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower.

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you.

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box.

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step.

“Bucky…”

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways.

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?”

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations long forgotten.

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!”

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night.

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader

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sparkle-hwa · 3 years

Text

at your service

summary: patiently waiting for your boyfriend to come home turns out to be quite the treat.

pairing: dom!hongjoong x sub!female reader

genre: smut

TW: none (but please let me know if I need to add any)

CW: dom/sub, name calling, slight degradation, unprotected sex

Word count: 2,366

A/N: aahhhh!! this is my first fanfiction that i wrote for ateez EVER and my first one I’m ever posting! i hope you all like it! please feel free to send any feedback :)

________________________________________________________________

You sat on the couch, headphones in, trying to concentrate on writing your term paper. The semester was almost over and you needed at least a B to keep your solid academic standing. Better grades now meant more scholarship opportunities for graduate school in the future and that’s what mattered most. Rewriting the same sentence over and over again didn’t seem so bad compared to endless loan payments. Pulling the blanket up higher on your chest you snuggled in and decided that thirty more minutes of writing would put you in a good place to finish and edit it tomorrow. Your entire week had been consumed by school and you were not about to let your Friday night get taken up by this. Hongjoong, your sweet, caring boyfriend would be home soon and you wanted a clear head for what you believed to be in store for you.

He had been sending you picture after picture on snapchat almost all of today. To the outsider viewer, it probably looked like he was taking simple selfies; after all, he had been at his internship all day. But the added captions were definitely for your eyes only. He detailed just what he wanted to do with you - to you - tonight and it was enough to make you squirm in your seat during class and turn the brightness all the way down on your phone. Recalling it now, you could feel the heat rise in your body and you subconsciously swallowed hard. Some say you can’t remember pain, but you definitely remembered how difficult it was to get yourself situated in your 8am lecture last week, the welts still red on your backside. Shaking your head and adjusting your earbuds, you got back to work.

—-

Hongjoong parked his car outside of the apartment complex and slumped in the seat once he cut the engine. It had been a long day. His internship had him working twice as hard, copying and filing, delivering reports, and filling coffee cups. He counted his blessings every morning though. He was chosen from hundreds of applications that flooded in from the university and this on his resume was sure to impress future employers. Sighing, he thought about what would have happened if you hadn’t convinced him to apply. You were so good for him.

With a smirk, he sat up, grabbed his laptop case, and opened the car door. He walked briskly to the front door and opened it slowly. Hongjoong first saw you sitting on the couch and then noticed the headphones placed securely in your ears. With a devious smile, he quietly set down his bag next to the end table, loosened his tie, and quietly padded across the foyer to the living room.

—

You were none the wiser to the fact that your boyfriend had just walked in the apartment. Seventeen was blasting loud in your headphones and in retrospect, you probably should have just played it from your laptop, lest someone who wanted to rob you had walked in instead. Bopping your head along to the beat, you felt really accomplished as you saved your final rough draft. Suddenly, you felt something coming down over your head. Before you had a moment to think, Hongjoong’s tie was tightening around your neck and you gasped at the sudden change of events. Leaning your head back, you saw your boyfriend standing over your with a look in his eyes that frightened you but also made you excited.

“Good evening babygirl,” he cooed at your lovingly.

“Good evening sir,” you replied, batting your eyelashes.

“Ooh someone remembered her manners. You must really want something from me.”

“Anything for you…” you trailed off as he stroked your cheek and you shut your eyes. As quickly as he was sweet, he smacked your cheek hard enough to make you gasp. Hongjoong tightened the restraint around your neck more.

“Get on your knees,” he growled at you, dropping the end of his tie and letting it drop down your back. Obliging, you dropped off the couch and sank down. You gazed down at your knees and heard Hongjoong walk around the end of the couch sit down.

“Mmm.. so pretty down there, sunk down just for me,” he purred, palming his cock through his work pants. You continued staring at your knees, feeling the heat pool at the bottom of your underwear. His praise was affirming to hear, even if you couldn’t respond.

“Hands and knees now,” he ordered. You put your palms on the hardwood floor and pushed your body up. The tie slipped down your side and grazed the floor. Hongjoong grabbed it and pulled at it slightly.

“Scoot closer.” You crawled closer as he pulled you by his tie and he pushed on your ass to make you move sideways.

“I’ve been dreaming of this ass all day. Work was so boring and I needed something to stimulate me,” he said, rubbing your ass over your PJs pants.

“I’m here for you, sir,” you dared to say. You were sure he wouldn’t care if you spoke without permission if it meant you were validating the fact that you were his and only his. Using the tie, he jerked your head so close your temple thumped against his knee.

“That’s correct. You are here for me. I’ll make sure you never forget that.” In one swift movement he pulled down your PJ pants and smacked one of your pale asscheeks. He pulled them down farther and you moved just a little so he could remove them completely along with your underwear. Once he rid you of your pants, you dropped back onto your feet and he slipped your sweatshirt off over your head. You obviously didn’t have a bra on since you had been home alone for the past 2 hours and you heard him murmur a curse quietly under his breath. It was cold on the hardwood, yet the more you thought about being completely naked in front of Hongjoong with only his tie around your neck the warmer you got.

“Let’s go slut,” he practically snapped at you and jerked the restraint tightly upward causing your head to jerk forward. Crawling on your hands and knees you followed him back to your bedroom where he told you to remain on all fours. He wasn’t noticing but you silently dared him to look over and make eye contact with you. You bit your lip and did your best to look as sexy as possible. At just the right moment, Hongjoong turned around and looked right at you. His gaze was penetrating, dominating, and you could feel the wetness of your heat spread slightly to your bare thighs.

“Come here baby,” he purred and you crawled slowly over to your lover, arching your back so that your ass stuck up higher and your tits stuck out just a bit more. When you reached him, you kneeled down at his feet and Hongjoong sat on the end of the bed.

“So you’re going to sit there like the good girl you are and you’re going to watch me jack off as I think of your tight wet pussy and then I’m going to pound you so hard you’ll have trouble walking in the morning. Sound like a plan?”

You squirmed on your feet, hoping to find friction somewhere to help relieve the wet aching you felt. “Yes sir, that sounds delightful,” you said, shooting him a glance that was somewhere between sexy and scathing. Hongjoong unzipped his pants and removed them with his undergarments. His cock sprung free. You quietly moaned as you saw his length unclothed. Swiftly he grabbed the end of the tie again and pulled you closer to him.

“Hmm I like this little leash I have on you,” he said with intense eye contact that made you melt. “Makes it easy for you to do what I want you to.” He winked and stuck his thumb in your mouth, pushing down your tongue. You welcomed the intrusion, happy to have some sort of physical touch to focus on. Wrapping his other hand around his cock, he started to stroke it. Hongjoong let out a gravely moan.

“Suck,”he ordered. You happily did as you were told, lifting up a bit so he didn’t have to lean down so much and sucked on his finger. He sped his pace up and pushed around in your mouth. You wanted desperately for him to replace it with his length. You moaned around his finger, hoping he would take pity on you.

“Aw does baby girl want more?” Hongjoong cooed at you. You nodded and he removed his finger. Hopeful, you gazed at him. Instead, he shoved you back down to your feet.

“I wonder what getting what you want is like?” He growled back. “Guess you’ll never know.” Winking he leaned back and continued to rub his dick, completely ignoring your pout. Closing his eyes, Hongjoong let his lips fall open. He heaved a heavy breath. Hongjoong seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

You however were not pleased. You were the slickest you had ever been and were fed up. Teasing you was one thing, but neglecting you for his own pleasure made you scrunch up your face. You watched your infuriatingly handsome boyfriend jack off and felt the displeasure rise. Your pussy ached. You slipped a hand down there to give some much needed pressure to your swollen clit. You decided to let out the loudest, sexiest moan you could muster to get his attention. Snapping up, Hongjoong made direct eye contact with you. His cock was still in his hand but he had stopped stroking and was watching you with a penetrating gaze. You continued to rub yourself and made direct eye contact right back at him. He scowled at you and you winked back at him knowing that that was either the best or the worst decisions you had ever made.

“Excuse me,” he growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting what I want,” you countered. You brought your fingers to your mouth to suck your juices off. “Is this what you want?” You eyed him seductively.

“Damn straight,” he replied. “Get up here?” He said it like a question but you knew it was a thinly veiled order. He was playing it safe. Somehow that turned you on more knowing that you had almost won.

Hongjoong laid on his back and you situated yourself so that you were on all fours beside him. His weeping cock lay flat against his pubic hair. You took it in your hand. Using the precum as a lube, you sped up quickly knowing that he hadn’t been going fast enough earlier.

“Uuuuugh” came a soft moan. You leaned up and bit his lower lip, just enough to lengthen his moan and turn it gravely.

“I love your sweet noises,” you cooed softly. “But I think it’s about damn time I started making those.” Dropping his cock, you rolled to lay on your back. Spreading your legs felt so good as the rush of cold air caressed your wet cunt. Hongjoong rolled onto his side and immediately stuck two fingers into your entrance. No warning. No announcement. Nothing, as he shoved them as deep as he could manage. It was enough to make you yelp out loud and remind you that you were still in trouble for disobeying.

“Fuuuuck,” you moaned.

“Mmm still my little babygirl,” murmured Hongjoong. He started to pump in and out faster. You were left breathless and clawing at the fitted sheet on the bed.

“Is babygirl going to cum?” Inquired Hongjoong as he clearly had no intention of slowing down.

“Y-yes sir. D-do I have permission?” You answered. Desperately hoping he would let you, you arched your back, hoping his fingers would stretch you out more.

“I suppose you could,” he said. “It’ll have to be on my count though.”

“Yes sir,” you moaned out breathlessly.

“One…. two… three…” he began.

“Uuugh,” you began. “You never told me what number I could cum on, sir”

“Good,” was the only response he gave to you. “Now where was I?”

He frustratingly began counting at four again. you felt the pressure building up in your lower abdomen. Either way, you were going to cum. It was either going to be when you were supposed to or you would break the rules. Somehow a dick would end up inside of you and you weren’t mad about it. Choosing the number ten, you achingly waited for his voice to reach the final number.

“Ten…” and everything else faded away as your pussy clenched around his finger. Hongjoong latched onto your nipple and bit down fairly hard. The sensation added to your orgasm and you enjoyed every moment of riding it out. Fucked out, you shivered as he removed his fingers.

“Nasty slut,” Hongjoong said and he wiped his moistened fingers onto your breasts. “Time for you to get properly fucked.”

He centered himself over you. In true fashion, your boyfriend wasted no time bottoming out in your already fucked pussy. His swift movements caused you both to moan at the same time. Hongjoong locked lips with you and shoved his cock in and out of you.

“Lift your arms up,” he moaned. You obliged and he clasped your wrists above your head.

“You look so good under me,” he growled at you. “Stick your tongue out.” Once again you did as you were told and he removed his hand from your wrists just for a moment so you could suck on his fingers again.

“Fuck baby I’m gonna cum,” he murmered in your ear. With one final stroke he spilled inside of you. Your pussy clenched around him again as he pulled out and you sighed as you felt his wetness inside of you.

“Lemme go get something to clean you off babygirl,” Hongjoong said with a quick kiss. He hurried back with a damp washcloth and proceeded to clean you off. Once he discarded it, Hongjoong slid beside you on the bed and snuggled close.

“So…. how was your day?”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez hongjoong #ateez hongjoong fanfiction #hongjoong smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong smut

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

Notes: Multipart fic, slow burn. Updates to come soon (and dw, fic’s completed, so you won’t be left hanging ^^)

Masterlist here

AO3 Link here

‘You sure you want the job?’ Miya Osamu asks her when she turns up at his shop, application in hand, responding to the advertisement in Onigiri Miya’s window for part time staff - general help needed, ability to ride a scooter a plus point - it had read.

There are only fifteen seats in Onigiri Miya, and hardly any space for her to fit her backpack between her knees, but sunlight streams in invitingly from the glass shop front and there is a faint smell of grilled rice and fried fish that reminds her of weekly lunches at her grandparents’ home.

‘Yes’, she answers, gesturing with her thumb at her scooter parked outside the shop. ‘I think I’m a good fit for this job’. The corner of Miya Osamu’s mouth lifts ever so slightly, and he leans forward in his seat, hand extended to her.

‘Welcome to Onigiri Miya then’, he says before proceeding to brisk walk her through the ins and outs of the shop, the scope of her responsibilities, work schedule and (most importantly) her wage, leaving her head spinning at the end of the impromptu briefing. Miya Osamu seems passionate about his craft, his face brightening up with enthusiasm when he talks her through the various onigiris he sells, the type of rice he buys (from a boutique rice farmer in Hyogo, apparently), and he’s generous enough to offer her a decent wage, more than what she could be making working in a combini.

She stands by her bike on the roadside, tilting her face to the setting sun. There is the faintest smell of rain in the air.

She soon falls into the rhythm of Onigiri Miya.

Osamu is strangely territorial over food preparation, so her tasks in the kitchen are mainly limited to washing rice (thrice in clean water, drained thoroughly) and doling out cups of tea and bowls of soup. When he finds out that she’s studying accountancy at Osaka University, he immediately places her in charge of the cash register (and later, in charge of their books). Her scooter comes in handy when he needs her to do urgent stock runs or deliveries to customers.

She learns the name of their regular customers - Abe-san, who only ever orders salmon onigiris with a side of pork bone soup. Kawasaki-san, who spends half her meal complaining about her aches and pains to a sympathetic Osamu. Mina-san, who turns up every day for breakfast after Osamu includes spam onigiri on his menu after he overhears that she misses her hometown of Okinawa.

Osamu calls her over at the end of her shift on a busy Saturday night. ‘I’ve a large order for an old customer of mine. D’you think you could help deliver it?’

There is a gleam in his eye that she does not quite like.

‘You sound like you’re sending me out to slaughter’ she comments half-jokingly, to which he responds with an amused shrug of his shoulder. She considers whether it’s bad form to throw her shoe at her boss’s head, but decides not to waste her time. So she shoulders the large sack of food, heading off on her scooter to a neat apartment building in a quiet neighbourhood.

Well – it would have been a quiet neighbourhood but for the music blasted from the top floor of her destination. She has to cover her ears the minute the elevator opens and wonders if their neighbours are deaf or dead because there is no way otherwise the apartment wouldn’t have copped a noise complaint. Grimacing at the tape over the doorbell, she knocks politely on the door.

There is no response.

She knocks once more, less politely this time, but still the door does not open. ‘Hello, your delivery is here!’ she calls firmly, slamming her fist down on the sturdy wooden door.

There is still no response.

She’s about to turn around when the door crashes open and a blonde head pops out. Her jaw falls open because standing before her is the spitting image of her boss that just sent her out with this order, albeit blonde and ever so slightly broader.

‘You’re not ‘Samu, but you’re pretty’, he leers, leaning against the doorway.

She’s tempted to deck him but she’s pretty sure that would mean losing her job. So reminding herself that all that’s standing between her and her bed is this delivery, she bites her tongue and extends the bag of food to him. ‘Your order, sir. Payment please.’

‘Didn’t ‘Samu mention that I don’t need to pay?’ The blonde Osamu replica tugs the bag of food towards him, frowning when she refuses to let go.

‘Not that I know of - and I can’t let you have your order unless you pay for it’, she answers firmly, foot against the door.

He straightens into his height in a thinly veiled attempt to intimidate her - and while he’s at least six foot of solid muscle from what she can see, it’s thanks to years of working in her father’s shop with men at least a full head taller and broader than her that she’s not afraid to tip her chin up at him with her widest, sharpest grin until he looks away to draw out a couple of thousand yen bills from his pocket, enough to cover the bill.

‘Fine, fine - tell ‘Samu he wins’, he grumbles, slamming the door in her face.

She waits until she’s back at her scooter and a good distance away from the apartment before she dials Osamu’s number.

‘What was that?’ she asks without preamble when he picks up.

‘What was what?’ Osamu answers, sounding uncharacteristically amused.

‘Don’t play cute with me! Did you just make me deliver food to your brother?’

‘My twin actually’, and he ignores her squawk of indignation. ’Did he pay up?’

‘What do you take me for - of course! I didn’t let go of the food until he did.’

‘Huh’, Osamu responds, sounding surprised. ‘That’s the first time he actually gave in’. And with that, he laughs merrily and hangs up on her.

She shrugs it off as one of her boss’s weird quirks.

Except it doesn’t stop as being a weird quirk but turns into an annoying habit.

Atsumu quickly becomes a regular customer (she learns during one of the twins’ many bickering sessions that he’s back in Osaka after several competitions), and Osamu latches on pretty fast that she’s far better than he is at forcing Atsumu to pay for the food he eats, so he sics her on Atsumu every time the blonde setter shows up at the shop for a meal.

‘Pay up’ she orders Atsumu for the fourth time this week. Her tone gives no berth for refusal so Atsumu reaches for his pockets even as he grumbles his complaints about ‘cowardly scrubs’ and ‘ crazy bitches’ at a grinning Osamu.

‘You should give me a raise for managing your brother’, she complains to Osamu later, and though he raises an eyebrow at her, to her surprise, he does exactly that.

Osamu proceeds to take advantage of said raise to send her to man their stand at MSBY’s first match of the season, armed with a few hundred onigiris. Business is brisk, but she finds her attention diverted by the sheer speed of the plays and the way the players all seem to have wings in their feet.

Atsumu in particular catches her eye. Osamu explained to her over a slow day at work about volleyball positions and basic plays, and he boasted about Atsumu’s talent as a setter, how ‘he always takes the best care of his spikers’. Watching him now, even to her untrained eye, she can see how much thought he puts into each of his plays - the way he tricks the blockers to let his spikers fly high above them, the quick side stepping of increasingly frustrated attackers, the dump shots at the most unexpected of times.

She’s impressed, though she doesn’t want to admit it - because Atsumu has the personality of a puddle of muddy rainwater, and she's fairly sure he'd never let her hear the end of it if he ever finds out.

So it isn’t surprising when she spots him being hassled by a large gaggle of his fan girls outside the sports hall. They’re hanging off his arms begging him for autographs - and probably something much less innocent from the way his eyes are bugging out of his head. It’s tempting to walk away from him – it’s not as if he’s been particularly nice to her after all, but a few of the more rabid fan girls seem to get a little too close for comfort and she figures even he doesn’t deserve that . Plus he probably can’t just shove them off because that might cause yet another PR debacle that she and Osamu have become accustomed seeing in the news, so she breathes a sigh through her nose, cursing her conscience.

‘Oi asshat, your ride’s here’, she shouts as loudly as she can, shouldering her way to the center of the crowd. His fan girls stare in stunned silence, but Atsumu catches on after she shoves her spare helmet into his chest, and grabbing her wrist for dear life, they sprint all the way to her scooter.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve never ridden before’, she snaps as he fiddles helplessly at his helmet.

‘Of course, I have, what d’you take me for, some scrub?’ he retorts when he manages to strap his it on to his head. Her scooter groans under his weight.

Yes - she itches to retort, because he’s clearly lying. He fights to keep upright as she loops her way through bends on the road and maintains a white knuckled grip on the back of his seat until she comes to a stop two streets away where his fan girls are unlikely to see him.

‘So, where to?’ she asks him as he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. ‘I could let you off here, or we could grab some food - your choice.’

‘Eh… Could we drop by 7-11?’ he chuckles sheepishly.

‘Really? You want me to take you to a combini when your brother literally owns a restaurant?’

‘I’m cravin’ an egg mayo sandwich, what’s wrong with that?!’ he yells as she revs off, and she laughs when he squeaks and clings on to her waist.

They end up at a combini anyway. Atsumu buys his egg mayo sandwich. And a bucket load of oden. And a bagful of karaage. And two pudding cups (singly packed, none of the triple cup kind for him thank you very much). At least he steers clear of the onigiri section, because Osamu might explode otherwise if he ever finds out.

‘You’re paying the fine if my bike gets impounded’ she tells him sourly.

‘Relax - it’ll be fine’, he waves his hand airily at her. ‘’Sides, what’s a girl like you doing with a bike?’

‘A girl like me?’ she echoes, tilting her head in confusion.

‘Y’know - kinda square and all? I assumed so, since ‘Samu mentioned you’re studying to be an accountant’, he clarifies through a mouthful of food.

‘Square?! ’ she mouths at him, outraged, and he grins unrepentantly back at her, crunching on karaage. She abandons her annoyance to scoot back to avoid the ensuing spray of crumbs.

‘Do you want me to answer seriously, or was that a rhetorical question, gross pig?’

‘Please, I’m always serious, darlin’, he drawls.

She steals a fishcake from him in retaliation and he tries to rap her knuckles with his sandwich. They only settle down when the combini staff glare at them mildly in reproof.

‘I’ve always wanted to ride a bike ‘cos it seemed like it allowed its rider to be free’, she says, shooting a fond look through the window at her own scooter, rusty and old it may be.

‘I mean it allows you to get from one place to another, what’s so special about that?’ he asks, cocking his head in confusion.

‘Mm…well, not just that. You see, when I was younger, I used to be so jealous of my older brothers getting to ride their motorbikes. They refused to let me borrow it, so I stole it one day when they weren’t looking and took off - but because I was so excited, I hit the thrusters so hard on the way up a hill that I ended up crashing on the way down. But right before I crashed, there was a moment when I was on the top of the world with the wind in my face - it was the first time I truly felt alive .’

She closes her eyes at the memory, her mouth lifting into a smile. ‘And that’s what I become addicted to - chasing that feeling of being completely unfettered from the world, like a bird in the sky.

He stares at her meditatively, as though she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve.

‘What!’ she exclaims, the tips of her ears flushing pink, suddenly self-conscious.

‘Nothin’, darlin’. Just thought that you’re more interesting than I thought’. Ignoring her indignant ‘ what?!’ , he stands up, brushing the crumbs off his lap. ‘Shall we get goin’? It’s about to rain.’

The ride back to his apartment passes in a blur of streetlights and gathering rain clouds, but thankfully it’s not as unpleasant as it was before as Atsumu eases into his seat, moving with her when she drops into a bend, loosening his hands on her waist. Still, she suspects it’s all bravado, as he stumbles stiff legged off the bike when they reach his apartment.

But as to be expected from a seasoned athlete used to the spotlight, he manages to plaster on a grin, cocky and charming enough to make her blush.

‘Thanks for the ride’, he says. ‘I wouldn’t mind coming out again with you for a ride sometime’.

Then he smiles at her, and it’s soft, shorn of the sharp edges she’s used to seeing. It plants an unfamiliar seed of warmth in her core that survives her race home against the storm.

764 notes · View notes

allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

Sole Survivor -> I

[eighteen plus blog and this fic holding eventual eighteen plus scenes mean minors should not interact with this story]

summary -> your first week on the island. alliances are made, rewards are won and tribes fall apart before they can even come together. [bucky barnes x female!reader]

word count -> 4.5k

warnings -> reality tv, some cursing, survivor references (tribe, tribal council, idols) past steve rogers x reader, non-enhanced marvel characters, jeff probst (please don’t sue me) some steve slander (steve i love you i’m sorry it was just so easy to make you the sweetest person alive and therefore a target)

notes -> there are more in-depth notes at the end! just want to say this is all for fun & not meant to be a serious fic!! just some fluff & humor as a break to any serious fics out there that you may be reading!

series masterlist here.

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Chapter I 𓆉 OUTWIT -> NEXT

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Bucky isn’t sure how he ended up on reality TV.

That’s all he can think about as his hand grips the side of the speedboat and he glances around at his fellow contestants.

His first application to Survivor had been a dare; One of his friends back home had made a drunken joke that Bucky wouldn’t last a day and well- Obviously, Bucky can’t really take a joke.

How was he supposed to know he would actually be selected? How was he supposed to know he would be a fan favorite...villian? Saying yes to this season was a no-brainer.

He wants the million dollars. He came so, so close last time. Runner-up wasn’t good enough.

He had been handed a dark, red buff long before they had even stepped foot on the boat. He had wrapped it around his wrist, just like everybody else on this boat with him. His eyes move around slowly as he studies his new tribe members.

The bright red hair catches his eye first, Natasha Romanoff, was considered the original Black Widow; It’s no shock to Bucky that she had been considered a villain. Her starting point was aligning with the men on her tribe and helping pick who she wanted out. It worked for awhile, she had them under her thumb, until she got a little too abrasive and was voted off shortly after the merge.

Clint Barton who Bucky knew was notorious for promising on his kids then stabbing his allies in the back; In the final tribal he had laughed and said they gave him permission. Somehow he had won. Him and Natasha had worked together, but he had been unable to save her after the merge.

His eyes find Tony Stark next, an original player, meaning had had never played a game with idols or tricks. Tony had won it all on the third season after betraying his number one ally in the vote that decided who he brought to final two. Bucky didn’t need to ask why he was a villain, it was obvious.

Bright red lips catch Bucky’s eyes next as he checks out Darcy Lewis. Bucky wasn’t actually sure if he considered her a villain, but he can see how it played out that way. She had kept her immunity idol secret from her alliance members and had jumped ship when it became clear her alliance wouldn’t win the numbers. She made it all the way to final three after winning puzzle after puzzle in the immunity challenges, she was more impressive than villainous, but sometimes they just needed some people to fill the cast.

Loki was the king of snake gameplay, but even Bucky could admit it got him far. His ability to tell people exactly what they wanted to hear is what handed him the million dollar prize. Bucky wonders if they called Thor too, they had been on the last season, Blood versus Water together.

There’s Stephen Strange who was probably considered a villain for his dry commentary, blunt confessionals and inability to keep his thoughts to himself. He was from the first few seasons too and he had rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but Bucky found his blunt delivery humorous.

And then there’s you. You had originally appeared on Brains, Brawns and Beauty. Unshockingly sorted onto the Beauty tribe and gravely underestimated. Bucky thought you were definitely the prettiest he’d seen in that season and early on he could tell you would be a power player. No matter how many confessionals men did saying your charm wouldn’t work, they all fell for it, and you picked them off. Your tribe only lost one immunity challenge and you had controlled who had gone home.

Steve Rogers had fallen in love with you that season and you had taken a page from Natasha’s book. When the merge had happened, you aligned quickly with the few girls left from the other two tribes. Then knocked the men out one by one. Steve, poor Steve, so kind hearted and trusting and it had been his downfall. When you had sobbed to him about the last three girls whispering about voting you out, he had given up his earned individual immunity. The four of you girls had laughed as you wrote his name down and Steve went onto the jury.

That was the moment that coined you one of the most notorious, and your unanimous win later had marked you down in history as one of the best to ever play.

Call Bucky an idiot, but you’re who he wants to work with. He needs to work with people who will make it to the end with him. His original season he had come off too cocky to win. He had made the mistake of taking who he thought was a floater, but apparently had built friendships with everyone, and lost in a three to six vote. Bringing someone who knew how to play the game like him gave him a far better chance at winning.

The heroes tribe are already on their blue mat when the villains disembark and make their way onto the beach. Bucky almost laughs when he sees Steve standing in the back, tall and broad as ever. Of course the fans loved Steve. Sweet, loyal Steve. He nudges your calf with his foot and you spin to look at him in surprise.

“Your lover is here.” He nods over to the mat, where Steve is staring straight ahead at Jeff Probst. You laugh with your head thrown back like it’s genuinely one of the funniest things you’ve heard.

“Didn’t you hear? It was a nasty divorce.” You smile before stopping in front of Bucky on the mat. Bucky snorts and drops his bag by his feet as Jeff calls for everyone’s attention.

“We’ve been doing Survivor for thirty seasons now. Fifteen years. Hundreds of people have played the game, yet the sixteen of you have made your mark as either hero or villain.” His eyes scan over the group before landing on Bucky.

“Bucky. You played this game six years ago. Season 18. How does it feel that even though it’s been that long, you’re still considered one of the most well known villains?”

“I’m a villain?” Bucky asks sarcastically as he looks around the beach. The crowd laughs and you look up at him with amused eyes. Bucky tries to ignore the flutter in his heart, damn you were good. “It’s all in the perspective, Jeff.”

Jeff laughs and nods before his attention shifts to Loki standing a few people away from you. “Loki, you’re our newest villain. Coming out of last season, how does it feel to be here with all these iconic names? Intimidating?”

Loki laughs and nods. “I guess so, yeah. I’m just so happy to actually play with people who love and respect the game the same way I do!” He looks over the group in a far more calculating manner than friendly.

“And heroes! Peter, you’re our newest hero on the tribe. Coming off a win that you got through heart and loyalty.” Jeff explains, like everybody here didn’t already know how much of a blatantly good guy Peter Parker was. Three years ago when given the decision to choose between a floater and his ally who was an equally as strong competitor, he had chosen to bring Ned to the final two. It had won him a million dollars. “You intimidated at all? Or should they be?”

Peter looks around bashfully. “Yeah! No, I’m intimidated, you know? I’m not the only winner here. These are all some strong people, I definitely will have to work hard to stay.” He answers humbly.

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes at the answer. “Okay. Anybody think we got it wrong? That you’re on the wrong tribe?” Jeff asks and immediately half the villains raise their hands.

The heroes and Jeff laugh. “What did we do, Jeff?” You call out in a flirtatious tone. “What’d we do that was so bad?” Bucky can’t see your face, but he would bet his life that there’s a pout there.

“Come on, Y/N.” Jeff says your name incredulously. “You are definitely one of the best, but you single handedly led one of the greatest all female alliances in the history of this game and picked off who you wanted one by one.”

You turn your head to look and the heroes tribe and Bucky can see Steve, Sharon and Shuri, all from your season, watching you. Bucky isn’t sure who made the worst move, Steve giving up his immunity and sending you to final three or Shuri for bringing you to final two with her. Loyalty could be your downfall or saving grace in this game, Bucky’s learned, it just depends on your jury. “Steve!” Jeff calls out. “Y/N. Hero or villain?”

“Villain.” Steve answers quickly with a forced laugh. You shrug and turn to look at Jeff. “I outwitted him. Is that being a villain or playing the game of outwit, outplay, outlast?”

Jeff laughs. “Okay, guys. Do you want to get to your first challenge?” The group looks around at each other extremely confused. It was rare a challenge was played the first day on the island, normally tribes were sent to begin working on shelter before it got too dark.

It’s a physical game. There are eight lanes, each lane has one weighted bag buried in it. In pairs of two, each tribe would go out to the selected lane and dig. Whoever brought the bag back to their tribe won a point and it was first to four points to win.

After an hour, it’s tied, three to three and the only pair to have not gone twice is you and Natasha. You’re against Shuri and Carol, Bucky is a little nervous, but he thinks you two can win this. Shuri was known for her agility and Carol for her strength, but Bucky had faith in your ability to play dirty. “Go!” Jeff’s arms drop down and all four women are darting through the sand.

Bucky can’t stop his eyes from trailing over your body, knelt down in the sand as you quickly dig. You had stripped off your shorts and long sleeve now only in your bikini top and bottoms, the red buff wrapped around your wrist.

He knows why it had been so easy for the men of your beauty tribe to fall at your feet. The way your legs look in the sand and sun has him wanting to kneel for you. He just hopes you want to work with him too.

Natasha pulls the bag out. Carol dives for her legs and sends her face first to the ground. Shuri follows soon after and both of them are fighting with Natasha as you stand back.

Good. Bucky thinks. Let them tire themselves out, then you have the strength to get it away and get the point.

Shuri gets the bag in her hands and makes a mad dash down the lanes, but your arm wraps around her waist and yanks her back into your chest as your other hand moves to yank at the bag.

Natasha gets up and holds Carol back with two hands around the waist. “Push, Shuri! Push!” Steve screams out. Bucky rolls his eyes at the nonsensical advice.

“Sweep her feet out!” Bucky’s voice overpowers the rest of his tribe. Your eyes meet his briefly. “She’s tired! She’s burnt out. She won’t get up quick enough!”

Your hands grip at the bag tightly and you swipe a leg underneath Shuri’s feet. Her knees give out and the bag is easily yanked away from her weak grip.

“Yes!” Your tribe screams as you reach the mat and Jeff calls out. “Villains win first immunity!” Bucky’s hand lands on your lower back and you turn to look up at him happily. He hopes you can see the praise in his eyes because that performance? That’s why he wants to work with you.

You - Villain Tribe

“Looking at my tribe, we’re pretty stacked. We’re good. Heroes don’t have a chance.” You throw your head back in a laugh. “Is it awful I’m excited to take a million dollars away from Steve again?”

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“It uh- It sucks to lose. I hate losing. It sucks even more that we lost to the villains. I don’t want to vote any of our people out yet, we all deserve to be here. It just sucks.”

Day Two

You had underestimated how tense camp would be with men who had been used to leading their tribes in the past. Tony wanted to build shelter on flat land and Bucky thought sturdy trees for a sturdy base was more important.

Bucky was right, of course. You knew he was in construction, you had watched his season, and had seen the impressive shelter he had helped build. Tony just couldn’t get over himself, but that was no shock. You would use his pride as a chance to move forward in this game.

“They’re just being idiots.” You say softly as you and Bucky try to start a fire. Nothing is really working and the sun will set soon, defeat settles between you two. “Don’t let them get to you.”

You eye his metal arm. It had been what made him a favorite early on, way before he even got his villain marker. His story of a car crash that had resulted in the lost of his left arm and a generous doctor that had worked to give him this new age prosthetic.

“‘M not.” He mutters angrily as the smoke blows out and chance at a fire slips further and further away. “Just… fuck… Just annoyed at myself for not being able to get this.”

You look over your shoulder. “And at the fact that we’ll be sleeping in a shit hole tonight.” You shake your head. Bucky snorts and nods before falling onto his back and dropping the kindle that he had been attempting to light on fire.

Your eyes trail over his abdomen, put on display by his shirt that has ridden up in his new position. You bite down on your lip as your eyes trail over his thighs before you remember that the camera men are only a few feet away and caught every second of your staring.

You clear your throat and move to sit next to him. “I think we’d work well together.” You say just above a whisper. You glance over your shoulder again, but the rest of the tribe is too busy arguing over the shelter.

Bucky looks up at you hesitantly. “Yeah?” He asks just as softly. “Not gonna break my heart right?” He gives you a teasing smile that makes your breath catch.

You shrug and stand up, offering a hand to him. “No promises. I can’t stop you from falling in love with me.” You giggle, partly for the show of it but also because Bucky’s hand is huge in yours and makes your stomach flip.

He laughs and the two of you turn back and begin walking towards the shelter. Right before you reach it and have to go your separate ways, Bucky taps your back. “I think we would too.”

You - Villain Tribe

“Getting my claws on Bucky first is the best thing for my game. He’ll be loyal to me longer than anybody else.” You smile. “And Bucky is the best guy here. Tony may be an OG but he played like thirteen years ago. Strange is kind of cold. Clint and Natasha played together, he’ll be loyal to her before me. And Loki plays a game too similar to mine.” You shrug like it’s a no brainer.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“I came to win this time, okay? No more aligning with underdogs. No more just physicality getting me to the end. I need strategy and she’s the best strategist to ever play this game.” Bucky smirks. “Just ask Steve Rogers.”

Day Three

It’s pouring rain by the time both tribes get to the challenge. Bucky had been right, of course he had. The shelter was weak and the rain was destroying it. It would need to be rebuilt when you returned to camp and he could only hope the rain stops long enough to allow him to build a real shelter.

“Heroes will be with me at tribal council.” Jeff explains. “So, today, you are playing for reward. Wanna see what you’re playing for?”

The entire tribe is huddled together in an attempt to keep warm as Jeff explains the challenge and reward. He lifts a cover to reveal a tarp, blankets, pillows and flint. Bucky almost groans at the sight. They needed this win. “I’ll give you a minute to strategize.” Jeff waves them off.

It’s almost every type of challenge in one. Physical, logical and strategical. Six members would build a boat from the pieces given then sail out to retrieve all the puzzle pieces from where they were clipped on buoys. Then bring them back to the remaining two members who would work on the puzzle. First to solve it wins.

“Darcy and I can work on the puzzle.” You say quickly with Darcy nodding along. Bucky and the rest of the tribe agree and get to their starting places.

It’s a crazy adrenaline rush when Jeff yells for everyone to go. “Heroes take an early lead!” Jeff narrates as they push their boat out onto the water. Bucky can feel his tribemates settle in defeat.

“Let’s fucking go!” He urges, forcing the last piece of the boat into place. He and Clint push the boat out before climbing in beside the rest of the villains. Bucky tries to drown out Jeff’s commentary, but it’s hard when every few seconds he’s pointing out the major lead the heroes are creating. “Nobody panic. They’ve got Steve on the puzzle.”

That gets a small, tense laugh out of the group as the heroes boat reaches shore again and the villains remain collecting puzzle pieces.

Hope fizzles in Bucky’s chest when he hears your’s and Darcy’s cheers and the arguing of Steve and Carol, both placed on puzzle and both having different tactics.

“The villains are coming from behind!” Jeff says in an impressed tone as they finally push their boat to shore. “The heroes just can’t figure out this puzzle and are losing their huge lead.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Shuri calls out annoyed from the sidelines as Bucky hands off the bag of puzzle pieces to you. You dump them out and you and Darcy immediately start to spread them out to look.

“Wow! Heroes just cannot get this puzzle figured out!” Jeff shakes his head. Steve and Carol continue to argue and yank pieces away from one another. “Villains have made a remarkable comeback!” You and Darcy seem to be communicating amazingly and pieces just fall into place.

“Jeff! Jeff!” You scream out excitedly as Darcy stuffs the last piece into place and you two step back. Jeff looks at the puzzle for a moment before throwing his arms up. “Villains win reward!”

Everybody screams in excitement and Bucky immediately turns to you. “Fuck!” He says excitedly as you jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. He wraps an arm under your thighs and tries hard to ignore how good they feel wrapped around him. “Darcy!” He waves her over into a half hug. “Puzzle queens! Puzzle queens!” He cheers, the tribe following in suit.

They’re allowed to celebrate for a few more seconds as the heroes groan until producers force them back onto their designated mats. “Villains. Take your tarp and flint, pillows and blankets will be delivered once the rain stops.” Everybody rushes forward as you take the tarp and flint into your hands.

“Heroes I got nothing for you. Except your trip to tribal right now.” Bucky glances over his shoulder as the heroes stare at Jeff in shock. “Yep! You lost immunity on day one and have had two days to discuss, grab your stuff and follow me.”

Bucky and you laugh with each other as you make your way back to camp.

Shuri - Hero Tribe

“I’m just so… I told them to put me on the puzzle. Put me! Who won three puzzle challenges her season? I’m just so angry. We had such a good lead and we lost it because nobody wanted to listen to each other and everybody wanted to be a leader. Now somebody who deserves to be here has to go home while the villains live lavishly.”

Day Five

Your tribe wins reward again.

After the shocking reveal of Carol being voted out at the first tribal council, villains are perplexed. Carol had been strong, furthest from being the weakest link who was usually voted off first.

You know that’s what being on the wrong side of the numbers will get you.

This time it’s fishing gear. It sends a morale boost throughout the tribe. You grin as you watch Bucky reluctantly walk ahead with Tony.

Tony had latched onto Bucky after Bucky had helped create a better shelter. And once they had secured the tarp and loaded in the blankets and pillows, it was like a five star resort to the already tired and hungry tribe.

You can see Natasha fall in line with you in your peripheral vision and try to hide your smirk. “You’re good.” She murmurs.

You look straight ahead and shrug. “What makes you say that?”

“You and Bucky almost never go off together. Barely talk outside of groups at camp. Really only interact during challenges.” She says quietly. The group is far ahead and most likely couldn't hear if you spoke in normal tones, but you appreciate her caution. “He’s wrapped around your finger though.”

You almost stop, but refuse to let her see you stumble. She was right, you and Bucky were exceedingly cautious when it came to associating with each other at camp. “You think so? He has a crush?” You ask softly. “He’s cute, right? Not too bad.” You feign ignorance.

Natasha smirks. “Yeah.” Her hand wraps around your arm and pulls you to a stop with her. “Listen. It’s Tony and Strange on one side. You and Bucky on the other. We’ve been winning, so nobody is going to admit their alliances, but I’d rather be prepared for our first loss.”

You nod. “What are you saying?” You knew Tony and Stephen would team up. They were both considered original survivors, coming out of the first few seasons and still working on understanding this new version of the game.

“Clint and I can be numbers.” She says steadily. You lick your lips. Clint and Natasha had done Micronesia together. He had been the only one to not write her name down when she was eliminated. She had voted for him to win. It’s not a surprise they had fallen into working together again. “We protect each other. Final Four, after that we’re on our own.”

“I’ll have to speak with Bucky.” You begin to walk again. “But that sounds like a good deal to me.” You give her a small smile.

Natasha Romanoff - Villain Tribe

“I’m not an idiot. I know Y/N plays this game loyal to herself only. But I’m playing a strategic game. Clint and I make it to the merge with her numbers then we can flip of we need to.”

You - Villain Tribe

“Final four?” You scoff. “Please. Two person alliance versus two person alliance in the final four? I’m not trying to draw rocks. Four people is good and then we’ll make the merge and I’ll work my magic.”

“I’m gonna get some firewood.” Your foot knocks against Bucky’s ankle. When he looks up from his spot on the ground, you subtly nod your head in the direction of the jungle.

“I can help. It’s getting dark, better two than one.” He stands up. Nobody acknowledges your exit but Nat, who smirks at you before looking back at the rice cooking over the fire.

You two walk in silence, making sure to be out of earshot before stopping to talk quickly. “Natasha and Clint want to work with us. Final four.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder in the direction of camp before looking back at you. “We can promise them the merge. Final four with a two person alliance as solid as their’s is suicide.”

You look up at Bucky and laugh. Did he think you were dumb? “I know that.” You say slowly. “We should just agree to the final four then get rid of them after the merge.”

Bucky huffs out a breath. “That’s smart, but how do you know we won’t be turned on if we vote them out? How do you know Darcy and Loki aren’t already four with Strange and Tony?” His nerves are reasonable, but they make you want to laugh.

You shake your head instead staring up at him with reassuring eyes. “They won’t be. I’ve talked with Darcy a little bit. Plus, Loki works the swing vote angle as long as he can. You watched him last season, it’s how he made it so far.”

“Okay.” Bucky agrees slowly. “So, we work with Clint and Natasha and work on getting Loki as a swing vote? What if they turn on us? These people’s word means jack.” Bucky’s arm shifts and your eyes immediately trail over it curiously. Did it do that when he was nervous? Was it normal?

“Don’t worry.” You place a gentle hand on his arm, you wondered how the metal didn’t heat in the sun the same way a metal slide would. Questions for a later time. “There are hidden immunity idols, Buck. We just have to find them.”

You walk past him then, picking wood up as you go. The cameras stay on Bucky, who you can feel staring after you.

Men were so easy.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“She’s… She’s got it all mapped out. To the end. She’s not playing this bullshit tribe first, individual later game. She’s here to win. It’s hot.” He blushes before his eyes widen in realization. “I could win this.”

Day Six

The immunity challenge is grueling. Large crates in the tribe’s color have to be rolled from one end of the field to the other by two people. Six crates in total and Jeff had evened the teams out so each tribe only had six people playing, meaning each pair would go out twice no matter what.

Tony and Darcy had opted to sit out, and each pair had to go out twice. Bucky knew this would kill everyone, it had looked downright brutal long before Jeff shouted Go.

Bucky can be the first to admit maybe the team didn’t strategize correctly when choosing pairs. While he and Loki were able to bring the first crate back before the heroes, Clint and Stephen slow the group down. Once the heroes build momentum, they’ve got the lead. You and Natasha struggle to catch up.

By the sixth crate, everybody is downright exhausted. Bucky can’t even comprehend how the heroes had gotten through all six crates so fast.

“Villains start your puzzle.” Jeff calls out. Bucky thinks this is worse than the running. These crates are almost as tall as he is and definitely weighed damn near close too.

Setting the first two in place would be fine, the last four? Pure hell. They had to be lifted into place and Bucky wasn’t sure his tribe could do it. Not when Steve was already lifting crates up for the heroes and sticking them in place like it was nothing.

“Heroes with a huge lead!” Jeff narrates excitedly from the sidelines. “Can the villains catch up?”

“Fuck this.” Bucky mutters taking a step back. His back hits something soft - you. You nails trail up his spine and he shivers before turning to look down at you. “That piece then that piece?” You point out and Bucky turns to look.

Loki and Clint have the first piece in place. Natasha and Strange are pushing the second. Two pieces have to be lifted next and you seem to have cracked the code.

“You’re so smart.” He punches your shoulder affectionately before yelling out. He starts calling out directions and suddenly everything seems to have fallen into place. The villains tribe is quiet and works together easily while the heroes fall apart, again.

“Villains win immunity!” Jeff calls out again and the heroes fall into dismay. Yelling and arguing with one another even more. “That means the heroes will once again see me at tribal council. I’ll give you the afternoon to discuss, head on out.”

Bucky carries the immunity trophy back to camp with a bright smile. These first few days couldn’t have gone any better. A winning streak, set alliance, and final two plan?

He was winning this time. No doubt about it.

Peter Parker - Hero Tribe

“It just sucks because… because now they’re talking about sending Steve home instead of like - Sharon. She’s smart, but she’s just not the strongest person here and we obviously need a stronger tribe.”

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“A line was drawn in the sand last tribal. Scott, Wanda and I on one side. Shuri, Peter, Sharon and Thor on the other. Now it’s just who they want to go home and I hope it’s not me.”

Thor Odinson - Hero Tribe

“There’s talk of Steve going home, but I… I don��t know if that’s what will be best for us. We need our strong players and he’s strong! I’m gonna talk to them and see what I can do. We just… We just can’t lose strong people. We’ll get our asses handed to us.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // you can probably tell, but until the merge, you won’t get inside on the heroes tribe. the focus of this is bucky & reader on their tribe. the confessionals are really you’re only hint to anybody else’s train of thought! i’m excited to explore this, it’s really just for fun & not meant to be a super serious fic. a break from harsh angst and all that! i hope you enjoy it, even just a little! the next part will have more to it & it will get more interesting! this is meant as an introduction, a season premiere if you will. :))

& if you’ve watched the real heroes vs villains season you’ll notice a lot of this follows after that set up, like the challenges and eliminations, but i’ve written it around these characters and personalities!

my writing is free & will remain free! but if you have the resources and enjoyed it, consider donating to my ko-fi :) & if that’s not possible consider reblogging or leaving comments! spreading my work or letting me know you enjoyed it means the world to me & lets me know i’m not shouting into the void!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #survivor au #bucky barnes x fem!reader #steve rogers

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