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darsynia · 5 months ago

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Adversarial 1/? (Bucky/Mechanic!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | RO ROLL MASTERLIST | gif by @dailybuckybarnes

Summary: The textbooks all say that finding your soulmate feels like figuring out your place in the world, something you’ve always thought was utter bullshit, but--

…but your soulmate has a mechanical arm

Word Count/Warnings: 4,000 | explicit sex

As 2/7 of my birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, adVERsarial is a Soulmate AU 'enemies to lovers' with a brash, outspoken f!reader. Stay tuned for more, and feel free to drop a comment if you'd like to be on the tag list!

Excerpt:

“Are you the lead mechanic? Stark said I could find them here.”

“I am, and I’ll be honest, I’m more than a little bummed out that those aren’t the words written all over my mitt, here,” you tell Captain America, holding up your (grime-covered, unreadable) left hand.

A ripple of… something tugs his eyebrow upward for a few seconds, and he smiles politely. “I get that a lot.”

You feel the burn of triumph in your chest and move in for the killing blow. “Oh really? I wish you’d kept a list, Rogers, because I’d love to meet more female mechanics.”

Adversarial

Your soulmate can go straight to hell.

First of all, your Words are written on your fucking hand, and it almost takes up the whole thing! Who the fuck thought that was okay?

Schools don’t let you cover your hands, did your jerkface soulmate ever think of that? No? Classic.

Oh, and then there are the bullies. So. Many. Bullies. Telling the new kids to come up and say the words to greet you was predictable, but exploiting teachers’ inherent laziness-- ‘but Mrs. DoNothing, I was just reading the words off her hand!’ --was icing on the shit sundae.

You graduated from that hellhole, moved as far away as possible, and got a job that would cover you in gunk so you wouldn’t have to think about your Words every single day.

Now it’s seven years later and your boss asks you to come along on his fancy-ass job at the Avenger Hideout in upstate New York. You’re sure you’ll be kicked to the curb when you meet Stark himself, though. The man is snark incarnate, and you can rarely pass up an opportunity to mouth off.

“‘Sit down and shut up if you want to stay alive,’” he quotes, right after the handshake. The smug look on his face is warranted, because working with the Avengers is one of the few times your soulmate words apply to regular life.

“Yeah I’ll stay standing if it’s all the same to you,” you smile, with too many teeth and everything. You usually choose something more spicy, but you really want this job. Besides, Stark’s soulmark words are well known, so you don’t have to speak to history here.

“As long as you keep your death wish to yourself like everyone else in the asylum, we’re cool. Welcome aboard.”

The Avengers Compound is pretty sweet, actually, and your coworkers don’t seem like the typical stooges. It takes almost a month to persuade them that you really do enjoy the dirtiest, toughest jobs, and after that everything is smooth, filthy sailing. It’s always a good day if you end it needing a long, hot shower and half a bottle of degreasing soap.

There’s an iPad mounted within floor-view for people to text you if they need something. It doubles as your personal DJ, so when the sound cuts out, you slide your ass out from underneath the Quinjet you were servicing to find a pair of boots standing next to it. As you rise gracefully (read: clamber) to your feet, their owner speaks.

“Are you the lead mechanic? Stark said I could find them here.”

A ripple of… something tugs his eyebrow upward for a few seconds, and he smiles politely. “I get that a lot.”

You feel the burn of triumph in your chest and move in for the killing blow. “Oh really? I wish you’d kept a list, Rogers, because I’d love to meet more female mechanics.”

Until this point, he’d been holding himself like the soldier that he is, with the same stiff courtesy you’d seen from his rare television appearances. That all falls away, now. Rogers clears his throat, hitting his fisted hand on his chest as though knocking loose his initial impression of you, then extends that hand out for you to shake.

Your eyebrows skyrocket at just how much grease he’ll end up with if he goes through it, but Captain America’s outstretched hand doesn’t waver.

It’s time for you to knock loose your first impression. You give him a respectful nod and grasp his hand firmly. The grip slips as you shake, but you don’t offer any apology, and Rogers doesn’t seem to need one, not even when there’s a squishing sound as you both disengage. You take pity on the man and snag him a blue towel from your workbench.

“So, what do you need that Stark couldn’t Lord it down here and ask for himself?”

The towel is doing nothing. “We’ve got a mission coming up that will involve some repair work mid-way. Refugee camp in the middle of a regional conflict, with aggressors who like to send self-destructive drones to ruin our day. Army thinks it’s cheaper if it’s us, and not them.” He gestures towards your large tool bag. “We’d like to get in, get fixed back up, and get out in a hurry, and Stark says you’re the…” he pauses.

“Say it.”

“‘Gremlin’ for the job,” he says, apologetically offering back the newly-soiled towel with his still-soiled hand.

“Sounds about right. Have his Jeeves give me the details, yeah?” You start whistling as you scooch back down to finish up the job you’d been working on when Rogers had come in. It takes a not-inconsiderable amount of time for him to walk back out, and you count that as a win.

They were… not kidding about the danger of the mission.

The trip out had been unpleasant as hell, gaining you some unwanted on-the-job experience with what it’s like being motion-sick under fire. As expected, the vehicle is hit by two diligent little destructo-bots, but you take care of the first one handily. Getting the second off and its damage mitigated is made more difficult by the urgency in the comms.

The team is on the way with the refugees in tow, and they want to take off as soon as they get back. Doing that with unknown damage is a terrible idea.

“All right, you heat-seeking little bot-barnacle, you ARE coming off, even if I have to pry off a panel of the ship to do it!” you snap, five minutes later. You're bluffing, since can’t even tell if the damned thing’s done any damage or if the sum total of its effect is ‘skewering the hull and sitting there smug as hell about it.’ The team is getting closer and closer, and the pounding of your heart is so loud you can hear it like a drumbeat in your ears.

They turn out to be footfalls, not your heartbeat.

A metal hand appears out of utterly nowhere and grabs the attack drone, ripping it out of the hull and throwing it with enough force to send it a half mile away. You’re left with your mouth hanging open as the owner of the hand (the arm. It’s an arm, and it’s the most gorgeous piece of machinery you’ve ever, ever seen) turns to face you. He’s wearing tactical gear and a sour expression, and every one of your blood vessels have converted themselves to gasoline at the very sight of him.

“That’s quite an arm you’ve got, soldier,” you quip.

His face twists into fierce fury as he points to the ramp leading into the Quinjet. “Sit down and shut up if you want to stay alive.”

For once in your life, you do what you’re told without complaint or combativeness. The phrase ‘internal combustion’ has never been so apt. The textbooks all say that finding your soulmate feels like figuring out your place in the world, something you’ve always thought was utter bullshit, but--

…but your soulmate has a mechanical arm.

The rest of the team shows up mere seconds later, and from there you’re caught up in the whirlwind of weight balancing, choosing what to ditch to fit every last person in the vehicle. For a few crazy minutes, it seems your grouchy soulmate might be left behind to fend for himself (you have no idea who he is, but you’re completely certain this man could wipe out the entire platoon that Rogers says is heading their way), but you and Stark figure out an overspeed hack that can work for just long enough to get somewhere safe.

You’re too busy keeping your ride in the air to think about anything else, and once you’re all back on solid ground, disembarking is a madhouse. You and Stark are the last two off the thing. He flips up his helmet and gives you one of his thousand-watt smiles.

“Great job today. Forgot to tell you Barnes was with us for this one.”

“Barnes?” you ask, distractedly running your calloused fingers over the rift where the perfect man had pulled out the drone. It looks like a patch might work, rather than having to get a piece machined.

“James 'Bucky' Barnes. The Vodka Popsicle?” Stark comes over and makes a show of frowning at the way you’re just shrugging. “See, if you were fun, you’d be pretending you have no idea so you can milk me of all the good nicknames.”

The soulmate thing is burning a fuse in the back of your mind, and you don’t have enough left in your tank to banter. “I really don’t know, Motor Mouth. I just kept my head down and did my job.”

You smack the hull of the Quinjet and start toward the elevator bank, secretly pleased with your own stupid nickname. ‘Barnes’ sounds familiar, but you can’t place the name.

“Come on, CS, you had to have seen his arm!”

This stops you in your tracks so quickly you can almost hear the record scratch sound. Right at that moment, you realize where you heard the name Bucky Barnes: in your high school history class! This has to be fake, some stupid Superhero hazing or something.

You spin on your heel, about to accuse Stark of only remembering the name because he had a hot teacher that day, but at the very last minute you remember his father was a WWII war hero. Fine, you can go with 'snark overload' instead. “Friend of your dad’s, then? What happened? Time machine?”

“Fascist Russian trauma, actually,” he says, herding you into the elevator. “JARVIS, can you take over? I need to fly home to the Missus.”

“Wait, Stark--” He’s in the air before you can finish objecting.

One enlightening elevator ride later, you make your way to your workshop in a trance. This whole thing is a coincidence. It has to be. The man has gone through hell, vanquished hell, joined its army only to claw his way out... and his reward is what?

You?

“Took you long enough,” a voice says from the darkest corner of the space. You don’t have to guess who it is. There’s only one person it could be.

“That’s funny as hell in context, you know that?” Shit. Even to your own ears, you sound defensive. “Look,” you rush to add. “I picked this job to keep my Words to myself as much as possible, and I’ll keep doing that. I don’t want anything from you.”

You’re lying. You want a look at his arm like you want coffee in the morning, like you want air in your lungs after a brutal run. If he were anyone else you’d be planning a charm offensive, and you’re not what most people would describe as charming.

“One problem,” Barnes says, stepping out of the shadows with his flesh hand outstretched toward you. It’s so cinematic you forget he’s basically danger incarnate-- and then he makes contact.

Pleasure sizzles up from his grip on your wrist, skin to skin, soul to soul. It’s mind-numbing in the same way as the aftermath of an orgasm, so similar that you stumble a little bit when he lets go only seconds later. You’ve only read about Sensitivity or seen it depicted in movies, and neither did the full glory of it justice.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper.

He doesn’t look affected at all. “Yeah. One hell of a weakness.”

You go from shaken to pissed faster than the Quinjet hits cruise speed. “Get the fuck out, then! My workshop is invite only.”

“Is that right?” Barnes asks, insultingly unphased. Your arms are crossed, and he just glares right into your eyes and taps one perfectly articulated metal finger on the newly silver Words on your hand. “Stark’s AI updated our medical files. If you’re unconscious, this gets me into your hospital room. That’s invitation enough.”

Fucking great. “Well, either knock me out or fuck off, then, Barnes. I have work left to do.” Your gut is twisted metal right now, jagged and raw from disappointment and desperation. This man is a legend, a warrior with a marvel of machinery for an arm and a past that would make the devil blush. He doesn't want you, and he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t. With misery staining your heart black as old oil, you stalk over to the nearest workbench before he can tell how upset you are.

“It’s not personal,” he says flatly.

Soulmate words are as personal as it gets, which means he’s saying it to fire you up. You won’t rise to the bait. Most people are uncomfortable with silence, but you use it as a weapon. The minutes tick by as you clean off the work table, with no other sound than the clink of metal on metal and the slide of heavy tools on the hard, solid surface.

Soon, all that’s left is a bucket half full of sand. At least this is simple and easy to understand; a cheap, abundant material used for friction, stability, and sometimes even a mold to pour hot metal into. As you burn away your fury with your impossible soulmate staring silent holes into your back, you wonder whether you’re half as valuable to him as this.

“Look. I don’t want or need--”

You shove the bucket off the side of the work table and spin around, your next words practically exploding out of your chest. “You think I don’t know that? I get it. I’m nobody. Neither of us want--” He’s advancing on you and you hop up onto the surface of the workbench, primed to kick, scratch, and scream if he tries to melt your brain again with your goddamned soulmate connection.

“Jesus. Just-- stay inside, will you?”

With those cryptic words, Bucky Barnes walks out.

You’re speechless, and the worst part is how much your body is craving the glorious, drugging feeling of his touch on your skin.

JARVIS calls out your name just as you force yourself to assess the sand mess you’ve tantrumed everywhere. Your ‘what?’ is as short and annoyed as you can make it.

I thought you ought to know that Sergeant Barnes spent his time after leaving the Quinjet checking on your safety. He requested I adjust the camera angle to more fully catch the doorway to your room, requested the visitor logs--

“Which you denied, yes? Yes?” you snap, gripping the broom handle like it’s your soulmate’s neck.

Of course. Despite his assertion, mutual consent is required for such things, barring a formal, legal relationship.

“For the record, it’s bullshit that it took until 1973 for that.”

I heartily agree. As I was saying, Sgt. Barnes took it upon himself to--

“Blah blah safety, you win the award for meddling, JARVIS, but what I really need from you is a magical ability to clean up this mess.”

Deepest apologies, but there is a purpose to this endeavor. The door to your suite did not meet Sgt. Barnes expectations, regarding your safety on-site.

“What the hell are you-- Wait.” You drop the broom and head out, speaking angrily up at the ceiling as you stalk down the hallway. “Tell me there’s still a door there, JARVIS.”

I’m afraid I cannot.

“Yeah, you should be afraid!” you hiss. “Tell me where he is or I’ll take a blowtorch to the wiring in the server room.”

Stark’s damned AI doesn’t even have the grace to sound concerned.

I see why some say you have a fiery temper. Sgt. Barnes is in one of the basement sparring rooms. Shall I arrange for an elevator?

“I’ll walk, thanks.”

The bank of exercise rooms is open to everyone on campus, and the doors only close when there’s someone in there. That makes it easy to figure out where to knock.

The door swings open, and your mouth runs dry.

Barnes is sweaty, wearing only a black tank and tight pants, and the harsh hallway light glistens on the metal of his arm. You’re completely certain that touching it will feel just as good as the skin-to-skin contact earlier. You drift forward, captivated, and the door shuts behind you. The clicking sound brings you back to furious reality.

Through gritted teeth, you say, “You. Owe. Me. A. Door.”

He scoffs silently, looking you up and down as if gauging how little effort he’d have to expend against you in a fight. “Stark owes you a door. I just proved that.”

“What the fuck gives you the right--”

Barnes interrupts not with words, but with quick, jerky movements at his waist, unbuckling, unzipping, and shoving. He slaps the flat of his palm against the Words on his bare thigh and says, “This. Every single woman I came in contact with was in danger. You’re not secure here.” He strips the pants off completely and throws them into the corner of the room before advancing on you, somehow just as menacing in briefs and a tank. “Not until we get this out of our systems.”

He’s lithe as a cat, and you’re only able to stumble back a few inches and scrunch your eyes shut before he encircles your wrist with one hand.

The cool metal is soothing despite being inexorable. You suck in a surprised breath and open your eyes just in time to watch the clever shit that is your soulmate dip his head to kiss you.

The pleasure is sudden and devastating. Your heart seizes up, stutters, and starts sending napalm through your veins as he walks you back against the wall and presses the full length of his body against yours. If each touch is a contact high, these kisses are full-throttle erotic warfare, with your brain offline and your hindbrain keening. You 'fight back' with everything you have, fingernails scratching at the back of his neck, teeth grazing his inner lip, all with your Words pulsing encouragement on the back of your hand.

If you’re not careful, this soulmate bond will acid-etch the narcotic joy of this moment right into your heart.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Barnes lets out a deep groan and pulls back to look you directly in the eyes. “This is a strategy, not a relationship.”

You’re touch-drunk, but you’re not in love. “Look, Deathsquad, I only want you for your arm.”

Barnes’ smile is like the sun coming up, damn him. “Fuck me enough to get past Sensitivity and I’ll let you have a whole afternoon with it.” As if to emphasize how much you’d both enjoy that plan, he slides his flesh hand past your waistband and grabs your ass, holding you steady for the twist of his hips.

Your smarts are offline, your lungs are at half capacity, your cunt is criminally empty, and you fully understand how people end up falling for stranger soulmates, if this is what Sensitivity does to a person.

“Fine,” you snap, hoping to hell you sound less needy than you feel.

The two of you glare at each other for a charged second, and then there’s a race to strip the rest of your clothes off. Not even sixty whole seconds later you’re kneeling on a thick floor mat, more nervous and excited than you’ve ever been in your life, damn him. Barnes comes up behind to set a warm, drugging hand on your hip, and then it’s bliss, sexual rapture from the very first thrust.

“Fuck, that’s insane,” he rasps into your ear, his right hand coming down hard on the mat beside you as he curls over and into you. “Perfect,” Barnes breathes, the word almost a whine, like he’d tried to hold it back and couldn’t.

You’re almost at white-out, already seconds away from the kind of orgasm that rearranges a girl’s blood chemistry, but you can’t let this one go. Arching your back and leaning to the side, you rock your hips in a cadence that unbalances the two of you just enough to force him to brace with his left, instead. You’re moaning insult-adjacent nonsense syllables now, but you gather enough willpower to clutch his metal hand with your marked one.

“Now it’s perfect,” you grit out.

Barnes’ sexy chuckle in your ear sends you into a black-out orgasm for the ages.

You wake up alone, which feels like a statement, but you notice when you roll over that you’re not sticky. The clothes you’d torn off and thrown in wild abandon are folded next to you, too. You scramble to put them on, stepping curiously into the shared adjoining bathroom to find a wet washcloth draped over the towel rack and a sticky note marked with a large B on the mirror.

“Don’t get sentimental on me, asshole,” you mutter as you snatch it off.

Crankshaft: Don’t get sentimental on me. Wednesday at 4? B

The words are printed, even the B, meaning that while you laid there naked and insensate, he’d gone and printed something out instead of just waking you up. On top of that outrage, someone’s told him your nickname, which for some stupid reason feels more intimate than anything that just happened. It’s something that’s just yours, not influenced by stupid-ass destiny genetics, and if he tries to use it verbally, you’ll… you’ll… You sigh. There’s not one thing you can do to influence this guy, except possibly make him angry that you exist at all.

One big Sensitivity-struck security risk, that’s what you are.

You’re about to crumple up the note when you see it’s got something else hand drawn on the back, a sequence of numbers and letters in a jagged sort of rectangle. The shape looks familiar, but you’re sated and stupid after however long without caffeine. You gather up your things and make the walk of shame back to your apartment, realizing when you’re almost there that the fucking door is probably still missing.

It’s not. There’s already a brand-new door there, and on it is another sticky note. This one’s just the hand drawn shape and accompanying symbols. You snatch it up and go inside, vindictively locking the door with both locks until you remember Barnes’ whole thing about safety.

With a sour feeling in your stomach from doing exactly what he’d want you to, you lay both notes down to examine the shapes, finally sketching them out on a third piece of paper.

The numbers and letters work out to be a room and floor number, probably for his rooms here at the compound

Combined, the shapes look just like the plating for his metal arm

You refuse to be taken in by this, even if it is right up your alley.

“JARVIS?”

At your service, Miss.

“Will you locate a small, neutral space for a… meeting between myself and Sgt. Barnes tomorrow at four, and let both of us know the location once you’re finished?” There’s no way in hell you’re doing anything that even hints at girlfriend behavior with this guy, so no bedrooms. What’s between you is literally just biology, nothing more.

If you insist.

“I do. And don’t use my nickname with him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

The singing in your veins makes a good opposing argument, but that’s just biology again, and you won’t be swayed by it. The only thing you’ll be swayed by is his marvel of arm engineering. Everything else is just window dressing to help get you through the absurd pleasure-bond shit that comes with soulmate biology.

You skip dinner and go to bed early, dreaming all night of the purr of Barnes’ muscles over and against you, the gravel-drag of his stubble on your skin, and the hum of an engine starting to rev.

to be continued...

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #soulmate au #enemies to lovers #bucky barnes smut #sex pollen-esque soulmate biology

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dearabhi · 1 year ago

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HERBOLOGY - harry james potter.

a/n: hi! this isn't the best of my writing, but i just wanted to keeps this acc alive so i posted this fic. i lowkey don't like this fic, but hey, hope u enjoy this though!

summary: hufflepuff! reader wakes up in dread, what she didn't know was something that lighted her life forever.

𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭

Y/N WAS SO SLEEPY, really. why would anyone not be in this cosy weather?

y/n would like to stay in bed and sleep all day, but susan being the most annoying person she is, woke y/n up.

when the two entered the great hall for breakfast, y/n couldn't help but fall asleep in susan's shoulder.

"get off me, idiot" susan scolded y/n, shoving her off.

"but you're soooo comfortable, susan" y/n whined as she placed her head in susan's shoulder and started sleeping again. susan rolled her eyes, but let y/n sleep.

just as she was about to fall asleep, her second-most annoying friend, hannah decides to wake her up by stepping on her foot.

this time, y/n was really up. "ouch! that hurts!"

"i don't care but, don't turn right away after i say this but, harry is looking at you," hannah whispered to y/n.

y/n almost broke her neck while turning to face the gryffindor table just to see a certain raven-haired boy looking at her.

REALISING Y/N WAS LOOKING AT HIM, harry quickly turned to ron and hermione and pretended to be hearing whatever they were talking about.

"ron! when will you ever stop depending upon me and write your own history of magic essay?" hermione asked ron, quite aggressively.

"never ever, mione" he replied and went on to take the toast and shove it inside his mouth. hermione rolled her eyes.

"i am going to do it" harry said, suddenly. hermione and ron looked at him with questioning looks. "i am going to talk y/n l/n,"

"this is the thousandth time you told us this, harry" ron said immediately. harry rolled his eyes.

"thank you for those kind words, ron, but this time i am serious." harry added determinedly.

"ronald you should stop discouraging harry, and i think this is a brave choice, but i think you would lose y/n as she's getting out of the great hall right now-" hermione started, before she could finish, harry was running towards y/n.

y/n was walking with hannah to the herbology class, even though hannah doesn't have herbology now. she just needed an excuse to see neville.

y/n stopped walking when she heard him calling her name.

y/n turned around to see harry potter walking, no, literally sprinting towards her. it was a rare sight.

y/n tells to hannah to go ahead and waits for harry to catch his breath.

harry then, immediately says, "y/n, can we, uh, walktogethertoherbology" quite fastly and y/n couldn't catch him.

"i am sorry, harry, but would you repeat it couldn't catch it," y/n asked him.

harry turns a little red. clearing his throat, he starts, "can we walk together to uh, herbology?"

harry looks at her expectantly. how can she ever say no to him?

"you don't have to, you know? it's just a request and it's completely fine if you don't-"

"no, no, i would love to walk with you, harry" y/n stops him, and a beautiful smile appears on harry's face.

harry insisted on taking her bag and as they started walking to the class. few jokes were shared as they walked, and honestly, it was the longest conversation the two ever had.

despite having to be in the same year and almost the same classes more than 5 years now, she and harry barely talked thanks to both of their lack of confidence when it comes to the other.

herbology would normally take longer minutes to reach, but while walking with harry, it only felt like seconds.

the two, sadly had to be separate from each other when they reached the class.

but as soon as the class ended, harry rushed towards y/n and asked her out.

ofcourse, as a sane person would, y/n obviously said yes.

y/n was glad and thanked susan for waking her up early.

#hope u guys liked it #ik its bad #harry james potter x you #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter #harry james potter fluff #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff

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pluto-supremacy · 9 months ago

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Vi Headcanons: dating f!reader at Stillwater

➼ Yes I am breaking my rule of no f!reader because I wanted to write for Vi so bad. So I'm gonna set a new precedent now: I'll write f!reader IF it is a wlw fic/headcanons/whatever. Though this is more of just a lil treat since the brainrot is rotting

➼ Might end up turning this into a full fic, if you want that let me know! (It did! Here's part two)

➼ No beta we die like Sky

➼ Warnings: None!

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

Whenever there is free time, Vi is at your side. You two usually find some corner away from the others to try and get away, pretend you two can have a moment to yourselves

She's always giving you her food, you don't even need to ask. She'll happily let you pick at her plate if you're still hungry or you haven't eaten in a while due to lockdown

You're lucky enough to only be two cells away from each other, you two often get in trouble for talking during lights out

If you're ever in trouble, Vi takes the beatings for you. She can and has thrown herself between you and a guard and is not afraid to do it again

Same obviously goes for inmates

"If you want to keep your tongue in your mouth, I suggest you leave her alone"

Though not many inmates mess with you considering your personal body guard of a girlfriend

If you're ever thrown into solitary, Vi goes crazy. Getting into more fights than usual, refusing food, even trying to break into solitary to be with you

If you want, she gives you both matching tattoos there with whatever device she can get her hands on. She lets you pick out the design and the placement

Anytime she gets clean clothes, bandages, and hygiene supplies (all of which are of course a rarity there), she uses them/gives them to you first. Bandages up any new cuts of yours or changes your dirty ones, gives you her new toothbrush and toothpaste, and so on. You'll have to fight her on at least sharing some of the items, like the new tube of toothpaste. She just wants to make sure you're taken care of

"Just scored a new hairbrush. Go ahead and take it, bun. Need to keep your hair brushed so I can play with it, yeah?"

Vi cuts your hair for you there and takes it super seriously. She's not gonna let you walk around with a shitty haircut

Though she did fuck it up once (or a few times, but they were smaller mistakes that were easy to hide)

To make up for that godawful haircut she gave herself a bad one too. It's just hair, after all, it grows back

She'll stand guard while you're showering. Make sure no one's gaze is lingering around on you. Also lets you shower first so if there is any hot water you'll get it

Vi is a portable bed for you. Whenever you're together and you want to rest, she'll try to find a quieter place and let you rest your head on her shoulder/in her lap. She plays with your hair while you're sleeping and checks your pulse every now and then. Just to make sure you're still there with her

Whenever you get sick there, she will make the biggest fuss to get you to medical. If that isn't an option Vi does her best to take care of you with the limited resources you both have

"Snuck a bit of that honey from breakfast. Try and cover your throat in that and don't worry about talking, okay Y/N?"

During bunk inspections, if you have any contraband, Vi takes it and hides it in her cell. She rarely ever gets caught with it, but she'd rather take the punches than have you on the receiving end of them

On the flipside Vi trades a lot of her own contraband to get things for you. Things like snacks, jewelry, hair dye, better clothes, anything other inmates have that you might want

Though if trading for those doesn't work, she will straight up steal them for you

When Caitlyn comes to release her for help with tracking down the stolen gemstone, she throws in a condition. An obvious one

"You're getting Y/N out too. That or you can try to find Silco on your own. Undercity is going to eat you alive without me"

And that's how you and your lover finally escape Stillwater

#arcane #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x fem reader #vi x you #headcanons #vi headcanons

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 10 months ago

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Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for Identity V? Specifically for Norton? I love the way you write for him!

Okay so, it’s safe to say that since Norton and Fools Gold are basically the same person, they feel the same way about things, including people. What if the reader (female or gender neutral) discovers Norton’s feelings toward them after having a match against Fools Gold and confronts him about it? Like rather than chair the reader, FG acts possessive toward them and teases them? Confrontation with Norton could end in fluff or NSFW, up to you!

Thank you!

Fool's Gold be normal challenge part 2 lol but im mad i lost my idea midway (curse u adhd!)

Rated Mature | Warning: relationship -in psychologist voice-

With how long you have been running your chest is starting to hurt, which does not help the limited places to run are getting smaller and smaller. Luckily, the map is Chinatown and there are plenty of places to hide. Not so lucky, as the hunter is well aware of those places. Not a rare map to be placed in but frequent as the Arms Factory or Sacred Heart Hospital.

With a dash upstairs and your legs give out, your chest burns but your heart does not stop racing as the hunter is still nearby.

You have been tunnel-hunted before by hunters, never for a reason-- Sometimes. However, you have never felt like a mouse in a game of cat and mouse, there is a teasing nature and you hate it. Fool’s Gold can be mean but he is no Ithaqua or Ripper, still for him to get seemingly off on you running away— His laugh loud— Worries you. The costume he has on does not help as he looks like a demon from the seven hells ready to claim your soul!

“Sparky, where are you~!” In a sing-song voice as he comes up the stairs. You go still, your dark costume is to your advantage as you hide behind a mannequin. The heavy footsteps have you holding your breath as you emerge from the stairway. His eyes looked around, his intimidating height towering above everything. He turns in your direction, golden stylized pickaxe but then lowers it as he hears a cipher pop.

“I will be back for you later.”

You have experienced fear but the rush of it never gets easier.

The hunter throws his weapon before using the magnetism to pull himself out of the opening in the store. You dash immediately out the other way refusing to just pray he forgets you.

He does not, he waits for you to be rebirthed by Embalmer's casket. You stumble out still hurt but alive, Fool's Gold leaning against a wall cleaning the caked-on blood on his hand, his pickaxe nowhere in sight.

“Sparky.”

“Only Norton calls me that.” Getting ready to book it.

“I am Norton.” Stepping forward, “Better than that brat.” You step to the side.

“No, you are some fucked ‘what if’.”

Fool's Gold stands at his full height, his one eye glowing almost brighter in this dark area, “Careful, sparky, I can let you escape through the dungeon if you behave.”

“I will hit you.” That makes him laugh, “I have one fuse left, we can go together.” Because you are not above being crazy.

“That I do not doubt,” Closer but you stand firm, “But you used all your tools. Too bad it didn't help that prison rat.” When you actually attempt to hit him, he is careful not to use his solid hand. His deformed hand holds you in place, the magnetism holding it together is used to keep you on the table as you try thrashing about. “You could've left him alone!”

“Yeah? Maybe you should've let me have you.” Standing over you, “Kiting me only pissed me off.” It is true the time he had you in his sights you made your business to be annoying. He scares you! Like right now. Being pinned down on a table with him between your legs. His solid hand traces your face.

“He didn't mark you.” Spoken when he yanks down your top to expose your neck and part of your chest. The marks on your skin are always from Norton, friends with benefits arrangement.

“What, you plan on doing it for him?” Playing fearless but you are fearful, this is the darker part of Norton. The demon everyone tries to hide made manifest, Norton hates it— Hates him.

“Why else do you think I have you here and not bleeding you out.” As if he would waste his time bleeding out anyone, maybe himself but that work he does not feel like bothering with. “Are you going to fight me?”

You weigh your options, “Mess around and find out, sport.”

His grin is wide, His teeth look sharp, and your inner masochist is excited.

He let you go via the dungeon, your legs hurt and you know your chest and neck must look like a mess. Easy to hide until you find Norton in your room waiting. He hates it when you have matches with his counterpart, especially the tunnel-hunting you most of the time.

“(Name).” Standing up the moment you entered, he put down the charm you made him on the bed where he was sitting.

“We should talk.”

Talking usually with Norton means he has to sit and listen and consider things, you only inform him so he has time to process and return to you. However, given the things Fool's Gold— Other Norton—was open about. Details are murky as he is not exactly like Norton, but the raw feelings are there, all laid bare because he refuses to standby and let his other self be an idiot.

The conversation is long, but no tears, and a few awkward silences but it ends with an understanding. Sex does not happen, Norton learning the ability to be grateful does not mean sex. Plus, the prospector is conflicted about how his other self thinks he has the right to touch you.

“I mean he is you?”

“I don't care! You're mine.”

“Oh, can you say that again for me, sport?”

#anon ask #idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv prospector #idv fool's gold #fool's gold x reader #fool's gold x you #norton campbell x you #norton campbell x reader #idv norton #idv x you #idv x reader

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 3 months ago

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With regard to donating to fund-raisers and the analogy to panhandlers, what do you make of the difference in scale that the internet makes possible? I absolutely agree with the underlying approach — I keep $40 in my wallet so that I always have a $20 to give to panhandlers I see — but there's a limit to how many dishonest panhandlers a person is likely to run into. Internet spam and scams are of a staggeringly larger scale; for example, the head of trust and safety for Dreamwidth has put the scale of these scam networks in the millions of accounts. Obviously vetting practises help a great deal, and I think initiatives like Crips For ESims For Gaza are great, but I'm a little bit hung up on the analogy to in-person panhandling when the scale is so different.

Disclaimer: my tone may sound harsh here, I am having trouble softening my words one this right now, but I truly mean no frustration towards you and really appreciate this question as an opportunity continue this conversation in the Commons constructively

I mean. Make a budget for it?

Like. I've said this before, but given I've decided to hunker down in this foxhole, let's do it again.

All my life I've had a panhandling budget because I came from a family where you simply didn't say no to such requests if you didn't have to. But much like the tired old analogy at this point, you can't help someone else put on an oxygen mask if you've passed out because you don't have enough oxygen yourself.

So my mom told me this was one of those places in life you set a boundary with yourself. Identify how much you can actually safely reliably spend towards financial redistribution, and set it aside in cash each pay period to give out.

My mom's approach was very first come, first served. Whoever asked her, she handed out all her cash. I found that when I was trying to create a similar routine for myself that this led to a constant exposure to people I couldn't serve at all. So I created "allotments". It became my routine to take out a $20 bill at my bank every pay period, and then have the teller give it to me in $5 bills. The first 4 people I met who asked for it got a fiver.

Then came the digital age. Cash wasn't the main way people asked for money anymore, and my fivers were simultaneously going farther and going nowhere at all for weeks on end, especially during the pandemic when I became largely housebound.

These days, I keep $10 cash in 2 fivers, and each pay period I restock it if it's been depleted, and add $10 to a digital distribution fund (I use money transfer apps like venmo, paypal, and cash app for parking this money until expenditure). My allotment is still the same, $5/ask. During low-density ask periods, I will donate my "excess" at the end of a 3month period to a bail fund or prison penpal program, and if there IS no excess, it's because I was able to distribute the funds myself.

They're not big donations, but a lot of the time I've been able to make them recurring. Obviously, genocide upon genocide upon pandemic upon genocide has meant that I rarely have excesses, and many asks have to go unanswered by me. At least if I want to keep my own household alive and well. And I've been told in the past that some even prefer getting my repeat small petty cash funds over getting larger one time donations.

It's still hard to be constantly exposed to desperate asks you can't answer, but when you treat it like a sustainability thing (this is a thing I can continue doing indefinitely vs this is a thing I can only sometimes do without hurting myself).

Like any budget, sometimes things get tight. Mine has been bigger and smaller at times and there have even been deeply painful periods where my budget was, legitimately, $0. But once that changed, I was right back to it.

The more the world changes, the more it stays the same I guess

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shrimshrim4fun · 4 months ago

Text

Bianca Headcanons:

Note: Haven’t posted much PTN but I’ll try to post more ><

SFW:

-Massive golden retriever energy. Very hyper and childish. Also a big softie to animals and loves feeding the stray cats and dogs she sees. Gets super sad when she sees them

-Touch starved. Always will have her hands around you, linking pinkies, any form of physical touch. Clings to you like a koala and refuses to let go

-Lots of her fridge is filled with her so called “apple juice” Always groggily lays on you when she finishes one. Sometimes if she has seconds she’ll start mumbling embarrassing things she has done in the past

-LOVES taking pictures of you. Has photo albums upon photo albums of just you and her together. She’s decent at taking pictures but she tries her very best just for you ❤️

-Very much a morning person. The type to be “Rise and shine! Today’s gonna be another amazing day!” At 6:00 AM in the morning, shaking you awake and gently tapping your nose. Though on rare occasions she’ll sleep like she’s dead, light snores as clings onto you tightly. Will start whining and nuzzling against you if you try to move away

-Can not keep plants alive for her life. They magically just keep on dying 😔 She’ll start crying and telling you how it’s not fair but a little comforting will make her happy again

-Can’t really cook either. Almost blew up the kitchen the last time she tried. Probably the type that can burn water. So she usually has instant ramen or takeout. Loves your cooking. Does not complain anything about it

-Uses those cute emojis like >< when she’s texting you. And she’ll start to sulk and worry when you don’t text her under 20 minutes when you guys are texting

-Gets jealous quite easily and doesn’t like it when she sees you hanging out with people she hasn’t seen you before with. Will sulk and ask you about it but a forehead kiss and some reassuring words will solve it

NSFW:

-I think she’s more of a switch. She wants to make sure she can pleasure the both of you and make both of you two feel good. If she has any discomfort she’ll tell you immediately and she hopes you can do the same

-Loves loves taking pictures of your body or videos. Has a small secret collection of it. Sometimes she’ll secretly look through them and get aroused. Doesn’t really know what to do as she feels the heat between her legs.

-Probably is a virgin. Doesn’t really know the terms or how any of the stuff works so you have to guide her through the process.

-Gets super proud if she makes you cum when she fingers you. And will start grinning at the noises you make and how you moan her name. “That’s good isn’t it?” She’ll ask a lot of questions at first, wanting to make sure she does it the right way

-Is very willing to try out many different things with you with a bit too much eagerness. Loves seeing the reactions she can get out of you. Also big into body worshipping, roaming her hands across your skin as she looks at you mesmerized.

-Biggest punishment for her is letting her finger herself as you watch or tying her up with a vibrator up her pussy on the lowest setting and make her watch you finger yourself. She wants your hands on her and her hands of you at all times so it pains her to see you touching yourself. Adding onto the fact she’s getting little to no stimulation

-Loves praise. Always feels so happy she’s making you feel good with what she’s doing. Not too big into degrading in my opinion especially if she’s the one giving it. She knows it’s not personal and only for the fun but she doesn’t like it in general. Also loves giving praise telling how good you are and how well your doing

-After care mostly consists of you two cuddling. Loves nuzzling against you and hugging you against her knowing that you’re with her. Love kissing your neck and cheek as you guys cuddle.

Ending note: I’ll be posting Shawn’s later when I get to it :D I hope it’s not out of character in general but I enjoyed the event a lot and I hope you did too.

#gotta feed the shrimps #path to nowhere #ptn #bianca x reader #ptn bianc #ptn bianca x reader #bianca path to nowhere

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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AITA for leaving my friend groups Discord server?

💐💐💐 So I can find this later. For context, I was in 2 servers that were friend groups, where my friends would all interact with each other, play & stream games, etc. However, recently we had a situation where someone, let's call her Sasha, would send many vent messages in the general channel, then delete said message before we could respond or even look at the messages, & get mad at us for not responding. She'd also complain about everything that happened in her life, school, in games, & she'd always repeat the same things, over & over again. In the end, we got tired of how she was forcing everyone to stop being as active in the server because of her behavior & actions, so we all made another server, without Sasha, so we could interact with peace without her interrupting conversations. This all happened 3-4 months ago. Then 3 of the people in our new server got a game on Roblox, Deepwoken. Another person, let's call him Kevin, already had the game for a while, so they all got the game & started playing all together. They were incredibly passionate about it, it would be the only thing talked about. One of them got me the currency to get Deepwoken, so I could play with them all. A while later, I got a hang of the game, then when I asked if any of them could play with me, one of them, let's call him Tim, would keep telling me that "Oh, you have to play the game alone to get the real experience, & to learn things better." every time I would ask. Sometimes, rarely, they'd answer some questions I had about the game that I didn't quite grasp yet, & a lot of the time i'd just, not receive any answer. After a while, I got tired of how they didn't respond to me at all, so I just stopped playing. Keep in mind, I don't have any other friends that have the game, so I didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. I love my friends but I felt ignored & was hurt, so I passed ownership to another friend of mine, & left. About a day after leaving, I ended up feeling extremely depressed & overwhelmed with schoolwork, eye appointments, a random limb & joint pain that I had no idea why I was having, & I accidentally unfriended Tim. With my being extremely overwhelmed, thinking it was a good idea at the time, I sent him a message saying "accidentally unfriended u mb. u could also not accep, that works too" Then another message after that one, "okay well um, im gonna assume that you arent going to accept it again so thank you for all youve done for me before you say that im making it sound like i gave up; i have given up i gave up a little while ago" After that, I got a message from him saying that I needed to calm down, that my friend request wasn't the most important thing in his mind right now, & that he's allowed to put it on hold for at least a day before I start telling him some "nvm shit". I sincerely apologized & told him that I needed to take a break, that I hope he's doing okay, & that I hope college goes well for him. I did indeed, take a break, for only 2 weeks because I felt extremely guilty, stupid & reckless. Those weeks felt like forever because that whole thing was on my mind 24/7. It was eating me alive. & No, I am not saying to gain pity. Just trying to explain what I felt. Tim answered, told me that I should grow & change as a person, & that he doesn't mean it in a condescending way, that the server was meant to be a safe space, that in order to make everyone comfortable, there's some things we need to just not say or some things we need to think about a lot before saying them. It's the reason Sasha got booted, & that we give as much as we get. I'm reading back on his messages, & I didn't say anything in the server to make everyone uncomfortable. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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caliburn-not-calculator · 6 days ago

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Any thoughts on the angst potential of Legendary VR-LA? Just rewatched the episode and am curious on any opinions

Okay so this has just been sitting in my drafts and I completely forgot about it for… too long. But yes!!! I have thoughts. Sorry for how late of a reply this is

Okay so. My first thoughts are more related to everyone else rather than VR-LA himself.

The Per Aspera crew left without one of their members, the ship finally void of its longest continuing inhabitant. He never seemed to make that much noise but it is notably quieter. He had more personal effects than most of the others, and with them gone… it hollow. So dreadfully hollow.

Emi no longer has VR-LA there to guide her, raise her, teach her. The person she was begining to model herself after is gone. Dani has lost her first mate and best friend, another brother gone beyond her reach, no one to work with deep into the night or stop her from doing so. Vhas who would usually stop by VR-LA’s room to antagonise him finds nothing but silence on the other side of the door, no lighting or snark at his back in battle. Kyana stargazing with no wizard pointing out his favourite constellations and telling her their stories. Finbar has one less serving to prepare (he always forgets, and they end up with extra food).

He’s not dead, they have that at least, but he isn’t there. Perhaps sometimes he can visit. Every few months he’ll appear at the Sprite Spring, or standing in the doorway to the Per Aspera’s common room. Seemingly out of thin air, and vanishing much the same. There isn’t enough time. It’s hard to accept that there never will be.

On the sanctum his loss his somehow felt more acutely and subtly simultaneously. They were already used to not seeing him for long periods. They had adapted to communicating via infrequent sendings and letters, but this is different. VR-LA rarely has time for even that much anymore. C-RA has lost another friend, someone else she couldn’t and can no longer protect. K-LB, whose brother was taken from him in memory and then finally returned, finds that closed gulf suddenly tearing open. Things keep changing… he wishes things would stop changing. AS-TR takes it better than most, there is a pride in the way she regards the situation, she is glad to see her friend go so far yet still finds herself melancholy at his absence when they’d had so little time together. E-DN tries not to be angry at him, or Mystra, or anyone else. She’s been trying to cut down on those emotions, but still, things end up broken when she hears that he is, one way or another, gone.

Maxim is… complicated. He feels betrayed, he is angry, and somehow he is relieved. VR-LA was meant to step back, he was meant to stay safe, they were meant to have… something. It seems the gods can’t help but take what he loves. Greedy and uncaring, keeping those he loves from his reach. The one solace he has is VR-LA is alive. He is safe. He is still out there somewhere and Maxim still may see his face, and for that he suppresses what might be rage. He was so used to feeling either grief or nothing, the way his gears are wrenching at the injustice is a new feeling.

As for VR-LA. He saw himself growing old, settling down, living a long and full life with the friends he has found and freed.

He doesn’t know if he can grow old anymore.

But he does know there is no settling. He was meant to step back, but instead he has stepped up. Balancing on the precipice of something beyond mortality and terrified of what it could mean. Terrified that the choice he made to save his friends may lead to him losing them. Time and existence doesn’t work the same as it once did. He may outlast them, out pace them, become something so much more than them that he can no longer be who they care for.

What he can do is watch. Only occasionally, but more often than he can visit. A simple scry to look over his friends, to ensure they are well. Eventually he finds that he can even bestow minor boons. Gift them with echoes of his magic to aid in their adventures in ways he can no longer. To remind them he is still there. That he still cares.

To ask they please not forget him. To not abandon him as a memory or a tragedy. To pretend that maybe, things aren’t so different than before.

#rolling with difficulty #rwd #vr-la rwd #I have more thoughts but it is late so I’ll cut it there #His time after his ascension is filled with apologies and reassurances #asks #I have a more fluffy idea of long distance relationship professionals #with warlock patron VR-LA and sending stone love letters <3

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oomisluvr · 1 year ago

Text

No Caller ID

Your job at The Agency was simple. In fact, there was only one rule: Don’t lose track of your field agent. Unfortunately for you, Agent K is a difficult man to find.

warnings: agent!sakusa x handler!reader, international espionage, i was going for a james bond vibe, no graphic violence but there is a teeny bit of violence, hq! cameos that aren’t important to the story but i thought were fun to include, open ending i think, flirting (???), honestly freeform, i wrote this in 1 sitting lol, sfw, 1.8k words!

You’re on a date the first time he calls you.

The guy you’re out with is nice. Doesn’t interrupt you. Asks about your day. Laughs at all your jokes and pretends not to look down your shirt while the two of you eat. He works in IT, so you know he’s fairly well-off, too.

It’s too bad this is just to keep up appearances.

Your phone rings with no caller ID and you have to stop your eyes from bulging out of your head. In this line of work, it’s best to keep personal calls separate from ongoing projects. For organization reasons. For safety precautions.

It’s for this reason that you have two cell phones. The first is for private calls, to keep up with the life your current alibi would be living. The second phone is for The Agency.

And you’ve never received a call from your second phone before.

You excuse yourself from the table with a practiced smile, adjusting your clothing as you stand. Your date nods. Understanding, as expected. He didn’t notice that you took your purse with you. He must think you’re coming back.

Exiting the restaurant, you pick up the phone with a nervous hand, unsure of what to expect, “This is Pluto speaking.”

“Pluto? Who the fuck is that?” A man’s voice grunts, panting loudly and very obviously out of breath, “What happened to Rin?”

You clear your throat, “Rin has since left The Agency. I’m Pluto, his replacement.”

“That bastard. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding–” Sharp pops echo through the speaker. Possibly gunshots. The cursing that follows suggests that those were most likely gunshots. Everything is so loud.

“Agent K, if you’re requesting for backup, I can send over the twins–”

“Absolutely not. No backup, especially not from them.” Based on proximity, you can tell it’s K who fires next. Two quick rounds, followed by two dull thuds. Bullseye? “Everything is under control. Get me to Croatia before midnight tomorrow.”

The call ends.

The second time he calls you is to complain about the first time.

You defend yourself with all the aggression of a caged circus bear.

K quickly learns not to complain about your work.

Two months pass.

Your job at The Agency was simple.

Fortunately, there was only one rule: Don’t lose track of your field agent.

Unfortunately for you, Agent K is a difficult man to find.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” You scream into the phone. You’ve combed through the security feeds of every private business, traffic cam, and ATM machine, but still no sight of him.

The ringing stops, an easy voice floating through the phone, “Hello?”

“Why the fuck aren’t you in Buenos Aires?” You all but yell, “I’ve been searching for you for hours.” It’s silent on the other end of the receiver. You continue your verbal assault, “Are you even in Argentina? In South America at all?”

K snorts. “Where do you think I am?”

You’re furious, “How did you leave the airport without me knowing? I booked your tickets myself. I made the passport you’re using–”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cuts you off, “Do you really want to know where I am?”

His tone calms you, just long enough to answer, “Yes.”

“A baby shower.”

“A… baby shower?” You repeat dumbly.

“Well, I’m not physically at the baby shower, that would be a breach of contract. I’m sitting in an unmarked car, about 100 feet from the festivities. Watching my little sister open her gifts. She doesn’t even know I’m here.” He sighs, and it’s so different from anything else you’ve heard from him. “Nobody does.”

People who do what K does rarely ever have families. Alive, that is. You wonder how old he was when he left home, if his parents know what he does for a living. If they even know he’s alive.

Instead you ask, “Will you be having a niece or a nephew?”

He chuckles to himself, but it’s humorless. Empty. “That’s what I’m waiting to find out. I think the reveal is after they cut the cake. My sister is greedy enough to make everyone wait.”

You’re silent for a moment, at a genuine loss of words. The silence feels comfortable, and whether you’d like to admit it or not, you’ve gotten attached to Agent K. Fond, even. Just knowing he’s on the other end of the line, alive and breathing and not being shot at, gives you an enormous sense of relief.

You stare into the monitors ahead of you, at the sheer number of tabs you’ve opened, the energy you expended to make sure he’s safe.

“How did you get into this line of work?”

“Me?”

“Yes,” you can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, “You.”

Nobody has ever asked you that. Nobody is allowed to ask that, you think. “I had an internship the summer after I graduated. My boss at the time has some sort of connection to The Agency. She said I should apply and that she’d put in a good word. My interview was the next day, and I was officially hired by the end of the month.”

It’s silent for a beat, “You do realize you failed the test, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“You aren’t supposed to divulge any personal information to me or any other agents,” He quips, “Especially not any information regarding The Agency.”

“Well,” You start, “You aren’t supposed to run away from missions and lie to your handler about where you are!”

K laughs. An actual laugh. “Touche. Though I’m not running away from anything. This is simply… a brief layover.”

“Whatever. I’ve already booked you a flight from Hyogo to Buenos Aires.”

“You’re sharp, Pluto.” There’s pleasant surprise in his voice, and pride flares in your veins at having caught him off guard, “How’d you know I was in Japan?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You repeat his own words back to him, “Your flight leaves at 8:30PM, Japan Standard Time. Think you can make it by then?”

“Yes, ma’am.” K huffs, “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” you say, “And I’ll be sure not to include this ‘brief layover’ in my reports.”

“Thank you.” He says, and you can tell it’s genuine. For a moment, you feel appreciated, before he adds, “And from now on, please refrain from using fishing boats as a means of escape.”

“Give me enough of a heads up and I won’t have to.” You fight back a smile, recalling your first encounter, and the angry call you got 16 hours later, “But if you ever lie to me again about where you are, I’m leaving you stranded.” It’s a lie. In reality, if it came between you and him, you’re the expendable one.

“Deal.” He confirms, “Oh, and, Pluto?”

“Yes?”

“It seems like I’ll be having a niece.”

These days, your phone never stops ringing. Your second phone, that is.

“Where are you?” He preens through the phone. It’s the last question you’re expecting. You’re at a cocktail dinner for your job. The fake one. The one that The Agency placed you at to keep up appearances.

“Company dinner. Is there anything I can help you with?”

You’ve leaned over the balcony, nursing something with too much sugar and not enough alcohol. The venue is beautiful, probably some millionaire’s summer home, resting on a lavish hill and overlooking the ocean. The party blazes loudly behind you, a stark contrast to the stillness of the sea.

“Yeah. There is, actually.” He decides, “What are you wearing?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your clothes.” His voice is so smooth, sentences dancing off his tongue like a lullaby. “You’re wearing a purple dress, right? Say, is that silk?”

Your breath catches in your throat, your body suddenly alert at the implication of being watched, “Yes,” you find your voice again, making subtle movements to analyze your surroundings, “It was my mother’s.”

He hums, and part of you can hear a smirk in his voice, “Thought so.”

It bothers you that you’ve no clue what he looks like. How many times have you run into him without knowing? K was one of the most talented of this generation, able to adopt and shed identities as if they were clothing, able to blend into any crowd at any time, more dangerous than any traditional weapon. How many times has he been a friendly face on the street, a shadowy figure at the bar, and you simply had no idea?

“On your left.”

A man approaches you, dressed handsomely in a well-tailored suit. Shaggy orange hair falls into his bright eyes. His footsteps are quiet, practiced, holding a corsage in his right hand.

Without sparing a moment, he transfers the flowers from his grasp to yours before spinning on his heels and disappearing into the crowd once again. Your words die in the back of your throat.

The corsage is simple, but pretty. Purple petals to compliment your dress. Tied around it is a small gift box. You return your attention to the phone, “What’s this?”

“A thank you.” He says, “And an apology. And something else. Open it.”

You do. It’s a cartier bracelet, thousands of dollars worth of gold. You flip it over to find your name engraved into the metal. Your real name. You gasp.

“Congratulations on the promotion.” He says your name so differently than anyone has ever said it. You trace the letters in your palm, just faint enough that only you would notice. Just faint enough that you could keep it, and not have it jeopardize your position.

“Just doing my job.” You conveniently left out that the company celebration was for you. Well, you and the five other people who received promotions this quarter. Of course K would find out.

”Don’t get smart with me,” He groans, “But consider it an apology as well. I would have loved to be there with you tonight. You’re brilliant, and I’m lucky to have you on my team.”

You idly watch the yachts float by, some illuminated with neon lights, and some brightened with floodlights. If you squint, you can make out the fishing boat just barely kissing the shore. And the shadowy figure perched upon it.

“Don’t feel bad,” You hum, “Something tells me you aren’t too far off.”

“Goodnight, Pluto.”

“Goodnight, K.”

The call ends.

You clip the corsage around your wrist and return to the party.

i though this would be a fun little story! ok bye love as always, niko ♡

#i feel like i def fucked up the pacing #sorry #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa #msby sakusa #kiyoomi #haikyuu #msby #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu fluff #sfw #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyu x reader

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salty-croissants · 1 year ago

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Reader who performs in musicals x Bullfrog, Rayman and Ramon (all separate) please? Thank you! Have a good day/evening/night!

Thank you for the request !

This one was really neat and fun to write :D

Hope this turned out okay !

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

established relationships ;

no warnings needed

Bullfrog 💚

When you first told him that you were a musical performer , Bullfrog was absolutely amazed by it … no matter what role you actually play , for him it’s like you’re the most talented person in the whole world .

< Oh my dear , c'est incroyable ! I can’t wait to get to see you perform one day ! >

< Aw , thanks love , but are you sure that wouldn’t be dangerous for you ? You know , with your job and many people around someone could recognize you and … I wouldn’t want you to get hurt because of me … >

< I’m going to be careful don’t you worry , I’ll do anything I can to be there : it’s not just any musical if you’re in it mon amour ~ >

Yeah , Bullfrog really meant what he said :

you can often spot him hidden somewhere in the room when you’re on stage , staring at you with those loving eyes that never fail to make you blush …

He’s just so cute , and the fact that he would go to such lengths just to be there to support you makes you all giddy inside … as well as a bit worried for his safety , but you try your best not to think about it too much .

When the performance is done and you get to go backstage to your private room to take a moment to breathe and relax , you already know that you only need to count to three before you hear a knock on the door and find a very enthusiastic Bullfrog on the other side …

< Thank you for coming , sweetheart ! So … what did you think ? >

< I think you did wonderfully , y/n : I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you during your song , c'était si beau ! >

< Really ? I was honestly afraid I didn’t hit some of the high notes right … god , you wouldn’t believe how anxious that made me the second the song ended , and plus - >

Bullfrog can’t help but smile as he listens to you talk , holding your hand while walking back home …

You’re just so passionate , it’s something that makes you even more beautiful in his eyes if that’s even possible .

Your songs often get stuck in his head , so it’s not rare to hear Bullfrog humming them to himself while showering you with affection when you’re together , but sometimes also during missions :

it helps him to remain calm , reminding himself that he has you by his side and that he has to stay alive to get back to you …

Bullfrog’s life really wouldn’t be the same without you in it .

Rayman 🧡

One of Rayman’s favorite things to do is just sit and listen to you preparing for your current musical’s role , closing his eyes and focusing on your beautiful voice …

You’re always happy to have him there , especially since if you get easily self conscious about something his help will definitely help .

< Man … this sucks , it’s been days and I still can’t get that part right … the performance is ruined , how am I going to - >

< Hey , hey … slow down y/n , take a deep breath …

There’s plenty of time before the performance , you just gotta keep trying and most importantly not push yourself too hard . >

< *sigh* … yeah , you’re right … thanks Ray , sorry about that . >

< You don’t need to apologize honey … here , how about we take a break ?

You’ve been working on it for hours now , I think you’ve earned it . >

Even tough the Directors are constantly monitoring him , you can bet that Rayman will do everything he can to be there the day of the performance , and whenever you see him cheering for you among the crowd it always fills you with joy …

He’s just so sweet , you can’t help but love him even more in those occasions ://)

Rayman actually has lots of recordings of you singing , that way he can listen to them whenever you’re away and he misses you …

Oh , and you can be sure that he will gush about you to literally everyone , because they all need to know just how wonderful and talented you are .

< Ahh , you should’ve seen it …

The way their eyes were shining while singing on that stage was simply magical !

Isn’t my y/n just amazing ? >

< Mhm …

Mister Rayman , can I leave now ? It’s been one whole hour … I’m just a janitor , remember ? >

Since he does have quite a nice singing voice himself , you and Rayman definitely love to sing duets together , sometimes even dancing in the middle of the living room while the sun sets outside the lounge …

It’s a beautiful , precious moment for the both of you , ones that you will carry in your hearts forever .

Ramon 🖤

Okay , so now that he murdered the Directors and officially became wanted by Eden , Ramon knows that it’s not safe for him to show himself in public anymore …

However , since you still need to perform in your musicals he can’t help but feel very torn about the whole situation , especially since he’s way more protective of you after all that’s happened .

< I’m telling you sweetie , I’m going to be just fine ! It’s only a few hours … >

< But I have to … I need to make sure nobody hurts you . >

< Ram , I won’t have you risking your life to watch over me . We’ve talked about this . >

< I can’t lose you , y/n … >

< You won’t … I promise .

I’ll be back before you even notice . >

Remember those recordings of your performances he made when he was still regarded as the Voice of Eden ?

Well , Ramon definitely listens to them a lot more now to try and keep his head distracted from thinking about what dangers could take you away from him when you’re gone .

It’s not a rare occurrence for you to arrive home and find Ramon asleep with one of the recordings playing in the background , and it’s during those moments that you fully realize that you really are the only thing keeping him together .

Whenever he happens to have a nightmare ( let me tell you , it happens often … this poor man is just so scarred by what he saw and what he did ) , Ramon is really going to appreciate it if you decide to sing him to sleep :

he just holds you tight , all the tension in his body finally leaving him thanks to your voice and your gentle touch caressing his hair …

< Mmm … y/n … >

< I’m here , darling … I’m right here … >

< I love you so much , y/n … >

< I love you too Ramon … there , just close your eyes , you should really try to sleep some more . >

< Mmkay … >

Sometimes when you’re having a bit of a rough day , Ramon is going surprise you by suddenly hold your hands and start slow dancing with you , singing your favorite duet …

It’s one of the only moments in which all of his troubles seem so , so far away , leaving just you and him in the comfort of your home , being happy in a place were no one can hurt either of you … not Eden , nor anybody else .

#captain laserhawk #x reader #rayman x reader #bullfrog x reader #captain lazerhawk rayman #bullfrog captain laserhawk #captain laserhawk bullfrog #rayman #captain lazerhawk bullfrog #gender neutral reader

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milogreer · 6 months ago

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the thing about morgan and obscura is that i want obscura to feel like the most treasured person on earth and i know he would treat them that way. because for all that morgan is guiding them through learning how to live with their sight, obscura is the one leading the dance - they choose the time/place, they set the pace, and he meets them exactly where they're comfortable. a real slow burn with them would be so rewarding and i want it so badlyyy

i've talked before about the intimacy of "time is a song" and i am not an essay writer, i am a rambler, so if this is repeating points from that post, that's life! i just wanna talk about them again, more so this time in the context of "consulting with a seer" and how morgan sets the tone for their following relationship right off the bat

You don’t have to answer any of my questions, you don’t have to ask any of your own, this meeting is what you want it to be. But—you’re the one who reached out to the Department. Not the other way around. Clearly you wanted… something. No one’s keeping you here, you can leave at any time, you can tell the Department to go kick rocks and never speak to them again. But you’re the one who asked to meet with another Seer. And now you’re saying… nothing. Is it me? The Department asked that I be the one to speak with you given that we’re the only two Seer Obscura in existence right now, but if anything about me personally is offputting, I’ll gladly ask that a different Seer be the one to help you. Getting you whatever support you’re looking for is the only goal of all this. If someone else would do that better, then that’s what I want for you.

the consistent reassurance that obscura can dip whenever they want to. like from minute one his top priority is making sure they're as comfortable as possible because he knows the anxiety that comes with being a seer obscura

To be Obscura is incredibly rare. To be a Seer Obscura is unheard of. The chance of you or I existing at all is infinitesimal. The chance of us existing at the same time is unfathomable. But we're here.

it's hard to even find the words for how this makes me feel LMFAO it's .... it's the inherent soulmateism of being the only two people alive experiencing the same thing. and the fact that it involves someone who maybe not even necessarily believes in "fate" if i'm understanding ?? like he hates the term "Known Outcome" because he doesn't believe the future is fixed and totally knowable, but he acknowledges how insane it is that they've been brought together despite the chance of it being literally unheard of. ykwim. am i talking nonsense

You and I have a unique circumstance that we face. One that no one else can really understand. [...] It’s just you and me. That said, nothing about that fact is an obligation. Being the only two Seer Obscura doesn’t mean we need to be friends, or even have a relationship at all. It’s your life to live as you choose. If you want guidance, understanding of a shared experience, maybe even friendship eventually from me… then I would like to get to know you. To help you where I can. But if you don’t want those things, if you came here for an answer, and you got it, and you want to go back to what you know, I completely understand. You don’t owe anyone anything by virtue of being who you are.

and back to the gentle insistence that nothing is expected of them - if obscura wants to turn and run, pretend this never happened and continue suppressing their sight, they can. it's entirely their choice. but he's also giving them the reassurance that they aren't alone if they don't want to be.

like. i think what really gets me about all of this is that it's so genuinely selfless of him? because imagine meeting the one person who could truly understand you on a level no one else ever will, someone who by all accounts should not even exist in the same space as you, and then completely sincerely telling them that if they have no interest in sticking around, that's okay. you know? like i imagine the majority of us would at least try convincing them to stay. but he doesn't. he puts all the cards in their hands and lets them choose how to proceed, and he doesn't hound them when they vanish for a while after this meeting. everything happens on obscura's time; there's no pushing them towards anything they don't want

i think obscura is ... fragile, perhaps? and i think they need careful hands and a patient heart and morgan could be everything they need. i want them falling asleep on his couch after a late night talking and i want him to gaze at them fondly before putting a blanket over them. i want brief hand touches when they pass him something and to hear his breath catch in his throat at the contact. i want more instances of that tense pause before "...i want to know you." i want him to make silly jokes just to make them laugh and then to get starry-eyed when it works, and when they try to cover their mouth to hide their smile, i want him to tell them they have a beautiful smile (without telling them not to hide it). i want them to almost kiss but be interrupted by someone's phone going off or otherwise interrupted so they turn away, flushed and awkward, and they don't talk about it again. i want them to kiss in the rain, soaked and shivering but not caring about anything but the way they feel on each other.

sigh. where the hell was i going with this. i don't know. i just think they have so much potential for a life changing slow burn. i cannot believe they make me feel so strongly when they've only had three audios

#got real wistful at the end there LMAO. this isn't how i expected to spend my lunch break #redacted audio #redacted asmr #morgan kyne #seer obscura #sweetheart.txt #morgan #no fancy name colors in this one i cannot be bothered

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wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee28374728 · 2 months ago

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Wendigo!Josh Headcanons

I always got the idea that the spirit can't leave the mountain, so when the rescue team took him down from the mountain, the spirit wouldn't be in control of him anymore

The first person who comes to see him in the hospital is the real Dr. Hill. I've always thought that real Dr. Hill was actually a really nice guy. The others are still mad at him at this point, and Dr. Hill was concerned about his prank to begin with

They finally get him on the right meds to calm down a bit and stop the hallucinations

Chris and Sam are the first of the group to warm back up to him, convinced by Dr. Hill

He has partial wendigo vision loss and now wears glasses, which he hates and wants contacts instead, but with how the shape of his eyes has kind of changed, he can't get contacts to fit or stay in(I've never worn contacts so if this ain't how it works I'm sorry 😭)

When he's finally released from the hospital, he mostly just hides in one of his parents' houses, trying to keep his distance from them because he thinks they blame him for what happened to Hannah and Beth, and that they'd hate him for looking different

On the rare occasions he goes outside during those first few months, he wears a face mask to hide his teeth

He likes to sleep under things, in dark, warm, cozy spots, so sometimes he'll wake up under the bed and not remember going down there in the night

He will sometimes still make wendigo screeching noises when startled

He likes his meat a little more rare now, and thinks its gross, repeatedly apologizing if he eats in front of other people, even though it's not that bad

Winter reminds him of everything that's happened and he prefers to spend winter either indoors or someplace warm

It takes his parents a while to get through to him that it's not his fault and they're just glad that he's still alive

He has trouble gaining weight now and is usually a little skinny

Eventually, the rest of the group slowly comes around once he's been on the proper meds for a while

Once he's more comfortable with himself again, he starts taking advantage of and having fun with his wendigo powers

He can climb up on the ceiling to easily kill bugs, or just for fun to get around the house

When the group comes over he'll take off his glasses and they can play Marco Polo

When he's genuinely happy or sleeping, he purrs. Not exactly like a cat, but like a rumbling noise in his chest and throat that happens whether he likes it or not

He walks really quietly now and can sneak up on people easily

Chris encourages him to be more comfortable with wearing glasses

I want to believe that the rescue team found other wendigos and knows what happened, so he never gets in trouble or anything

They do keep and use the flamethrower guy's notebooks as a kind of handbook for understanding the changes in behavior or preferences

He's even more protective of everyone in the group now

I don't think he'd ever stop wearing the face mask in public just to avoid attention from strangers or scaring people, especially kids

I think he'd eventually(like maybe after 2 or 3 years) he'd go back to college again

Eventually, he doesn't have to see Dr. Hill anymore as a therapist and just needs to keep taking his meds, but Dr. Hill still checks in on him and makes sure he's ok

(I am using the word eventually too fucking much)

He never goes back up on the mountain again for any reason, because there's no way of knowing if the spirit would just come right back and possess him again

I think the family just fences off the whole mountain as is and leaves it alone so no one else gets hurt

He wishes that they could have gotten Hannah off the mountain now that he knows the spirit would have let her go

#damn that was long #have a lot of opinions on this #josh washington #josh until dawn #until dawn josh #until dawn wendigo #exorjosh

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heatedwither · 1 year ago

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in the white.

deadite! ellie x fem reader.

summary- when you finally come back to the apartment from your trip to the grocery store, ellie notices something different about your scent.

word count- 4.7k.

warnings- smut, mentions of blood and violence, cursing.

note- this has been in my drafts forever. i’ve decided to release this before ‘the decay of your body’ because i am very excited to share this, and to be honest, i am proud of this one.

being held captive by a walking corpse was not something you were looking forward to. from the moment that trained nose took in the faintest whiff of your scent, she knew. that was the one. you were gonna be the one human she spared and kept hidden from the outside world, only staying by her side because she cannot understand why you would even need to be away from her when your job is to just sit there and look pretty for her. and as much as she wants to tackle you down and make you bleed that gorgeous shade of red, she can’t risk passing a demon onto you and watching it take over her precious girl’s body, that’s her job. you aren’t allowed to leave the apartment, roaming the building is a big no because ellie would not hesitate to drag those demons back down to hell, laughing as she pulverized them to nothing. rarely are you ever allowed to go outside, unless you need one of those monthly trips to the grocery store that ellie hates so badly since it feels like forever that you are gone, and those revolting scents that are plastered onto your body nearly makes her fall into a fit of rage. those disgusting humans had the audacity to get too close to what belongs to her.

ellie is absolutely and utterly obsessed with all things you. it was because of her obsession that you are alive and breathing instead of rotting like all the other poor souls in the building. forget about having time to yourself, alone time is out of the question. ellie needs to be right in your face at all times. you're trying to cook something? she's right there looming over you. shower time? you better not lock the door because she will bang and bang until the door finally caves in.

it’s a good thing she’s limited to the apartment, if she were able to roam the city there would be nothing but chaos, ellie would make sure to slaughter anyone she comes into contact with. that person is too close? dead. he smells weird? dead. that innocent person who hasn’t even acknowledged your existence? dead.

she’ll go on and on and rant about how she’ll hunt them down and gut them with her own hands, something you have to listen to while she tries to remove that awful smell from your body and replace it with hers, which results in you being pinned down and smothered by a very possessive demon. all the while she’s letting out a low, guttural noise as she attaches to your body, making sure you can’t slip out of her grasp. it didn't take much for ellie to turn absolutely feral, she's like that by nature, but you bring out another side of her that she has not experienced, something that demon was not aware of.

you struggle, but there’s no way you can wiggle out of her tight hold. one hand holds your arms above your head while the other is wrapped around your neck, threatening to squeeze just a little harder if you continue thrashing around and making this difficult for her. any other time she may enjoy watching you try so helplessly to shake her off, but right now she needs to rub her scent on you. there is no way she is going to let you stink up her apartment with someone else’s filthy stench, especially if it’s stuck to you, her human. ellie didn't care what the situation was or where you were, if she noticed a difference in your scent she was gonna mount you and keep you underneath her, lasting for however long she wanted.

all you could see was her tangled red hair and the perfect ink that was still visible on her graying skin. you were panting, breathing hard and ellie twitched at the smallest change in your scent- fear and excitement. perhaps that was what drew her to you in the first place, how delicious your fear was, the intoxicating scent of your blood growing hotter whenever you are in her presence. your heartbeat thumping so hard in your chest that she can hear a mile away. it’s unlike the other humans, she can hunt them down and hack and slash away at their bodies for game but you, she cannot bring herself to actually harm you. as much as she would like to see you looking pretty in a pool of blood, she needs you alive for her.

you're her sweet girl, her human that was made for her. you can be troublesome at times, but ellie will always put you back in your place and remind you who's the bigger, more lethal person between the two of you. you try not to give her any problems just so you can stay alive another day, but you are only human and no matter how many times you are exposed to ellie's behavior, a part of you will always be terrified of her and what she can do to you whenever she's had enough.

her face is now buried in your neck, her long tongue lapping away right against that spot where she has perfectly mapped out one of your major arteries. that specific area, pumping and pulsing with blood. it’s one of her favorite spots to just nudge her nose, taking in your scent as she drags her tongue against your skin, leaving behind that black liquid that occasionally seeps from her mouth whenever she locks eyes with you. her nails dig into your shoulders, deep, but not enough to actually break skin.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t secretly enjoy how vulnerable and weak ellie made you feel. here she was, pinning you down and drooling all over you, rubbing that pungent odor all over your body. at first you thought you’d never get used to having this demon smother you in that foul stench and practically glue herself to you most of the time, but after many tiring occasions you grew used to it, and to be honest, you liked it.

you wince and let out one of those whimpers she loves so much. her body twitches and her hand slowly trails down your chest, her fingers grazing the material of your shirt before frantically ripping it off of you. there goes another one of your shirts ruined, but ellie did not care one bit, simply due to the fact that it was in the way, and she never understood why you felt the need to wear pieces of cloth over your body especially since you looked so perfect undressed. the cold air hit your chest, making you shiver, but that was enough for ellie to grab your hips and lift them up slightly so she could press them against hers. she slowly started grinding against you, dragging her tongue against your skin, tracing your veins and arteries underneath your flesh. her hands undid your bra, which she was nice enough to not rip off this time. her face immediately went to your breasts, which she enjoyed licking and nipping at. she’s always adored your body, but she loved littering your skin in bruises.

you could feel the vibrations in her throat as her mouth attached to your soft flesh, her tongue was burning up- just like the rest of her body that was producing so much friction against you. ellie had mounted herself on your thigh, her bony fingers pressing into your hips as she rocked against you.

ellie finally removed her face from your chest, locking eyes with you and drooling at the sight of her sweet girl all flustered and burning up just for her. that look that drove her crazy, your eyes peering up at her and your lips parted, letting out small pants and huffs.

“please… ellie..”

you begged, but you had no idea what you were actually begging for. all you knew was that you wanted ellie to touch every part of you, smother you in her eye watering scent once again and somehow, press herself harder against you. your pleads were music to her ears, often times she would tease you endlessly just to hear you beg and whine so pathetically. this woman took pleasure in watching you suffer, she loved how you reacted to every little thing she did, she could barely lay a finger on you and you would absolutely lose your mind. ellie took pride in this, her being the only one who could have such an effect on you. she knew you would always submit to her, you were her good girl after all. she leaned her face closer to yours, her slender fingers creeping up to your jaw and holding it in place so you had no choice but to meet her piercing gaze.

“please, what?”

ellie's voice turned deep, demonic, much different than that sweet motherly voice she usually used around you. that feral grin turned into a straight face and you knew ellie was completely serious, she wasn't very pleased with you referring to her as that name. she had allowed you to call her ellie sometimes, but the demon always reminded you that ellie was somewhere burning away in hell. you could feel her claws poking into your flesh, ellie's patience was non existent, you knew if she asked you something you better reply quick and not make her wait. if she was upset, you better hope that you can somehow managed to calm her down.

your heart started racing, you knew you messed up, this was the part where ellie finally tosses you aside and puts an end to you, right when you were enjoying her feral and carnal nature towards you. truth be told, ellie had no plans of getting rid of you, she enjoyed implementing fear inside you. she’ll sink her claws in your flesh just a little more if that means seeing you shake underneath her.

“sorry… mommy”

you whined, face turning red in embarrassment as the words bounced off your tongue. ellie’s lips soon curled into that wide grin she usually has plastered on her face, her pupils dilating and that pungent black sludge dripping from her mouth that you weren’t such a big fan of, but since it was from ellie you thought of it as a form of affection.

“good girl. now… what do you want from me, hm?”

ellie’s hips started moving slowly again, just barely pressing against your thigh. her grip on your jaw softened and her fingers caressed the side of your face. as soft as ellie tried being with you, it never lasted for long, it was something you still had to teach her, and ellie wasn’t the greatest at understanding how humans worked. you once tried teaching her what a simple hug was, but ellie stared at you like you were insane and figured you wanted something else. you never realized it, but you taught ellie a lot. as clueless as she can be about humans she’s noticed everything you do- your habits, the way you do everything. ellie has studied you carefully and there was nothing she hadn’t already seen you do. she doesn’t understand why you do things, but she knows you do them.

a wave of embarrassment hit you again. you knew what you wanted, but actually saying it? you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. you knew ellie found amusement in your embarrassment, she would brutally tease you and degrade you for being such a filthy girl.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. ellie made you feel so dirty, but you enjoyed it because it was her making you feel so dirty. right now all you could think of was ellie’s hands roaming every part of your body, how every touch made your skin grow hot and much to your embarrassment, how much you wanted to grind onto her perfect thighs.

your scent changed, ellie immediately picked up on it. her head twitched and you could hear a clicking sound erupting from her throat, she could smell your arousal. you could hear her sniffing around and soon she lowered herself, dragging her nose from your breast to your stomach slowly. those faint touches were enough to make you soak through your panties, her face was buried against the waist line of your skirt, just sniffing, trying to take in as much of your arousal as she could.

ellie didn’t seem to be interested in your response anymore, that was a first- but now she’s currently occupied with something else. she’s focused on that sweet scent coming from between your legs. a low growl vibrated from her throat and before you could even look at her again she was already peering up at you with her shit eating grin. you locked eyes with her and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

so many delectable scents coming from her sweet girl. it was difficult for ellie to actually hold back, you could tell from those guttural noises and the way her nails dug into the flesh on your hips.

“answer me you filthy slut”

of course she didn’t forget.

you whimpered at the raspy demonic voice, your eyes closing and threatening to release a tear. ellie’s voice never failed to make you jump. the woman in general was terrifying, and you’ve accepted the fact that she always will be like that. your thighs shut together and a tingly feeling shot through your body, another proof of ellie’s effect on you. there was something about those bloody fingers, the ones that tried their best to caress you but always ends up burrowing into your skin. her face that was always so close to yours, covered in blood and saliva that you would occasionally wipe off at times and ellie would just stare at you, confused as to why you did that. and her voice, the way she could change from a calming motherly one to something so terrifying and evil. this woman gave you butterflies in every way. it took a while getting accustomed to her demon antics, but you are probably just as obsessed with her as she is with you.

“t-touch me? please, mommy?”

you begged nicely, just as ellie taught you to do. if you were a good girl and begged for her she may or may not stop teasing you so much, but ellie always did what she wanted and that also meant ignoring your requests if she felt like doing so. she was selfish in a way, but her demon brain can’t understand actually giving in for a human and doing as they say. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t listen to you, ellie believes you are the only exception but even the exception doesn’t always get what she wants.

ellie’s head lifted just slightly so she could get a good look at you, her weak little human who’s looking so cute and vulnerable. she was pleased with how well you could beg, though ellie was always one to make you beg until you got sick and tired of it. you think batting your lashes and being cute could make her cave in? she wasn’t going to let you get what you want so easily. her fingers danced around the material of your skirt, lifting it up a little. you knew she was teasing, there wasn’t a time ellie had ever let you get what you wanted so easily.

“ohhh you greedy girl”

ellie laughed at how pitiful you looked. god, you couldn’t even look at her anymore. one more glance and you were sure that evil grin would send you into a fit of frustration and a tear may or may not run down your cheek. you could feel her graze your thighs, tracing over the marks she littered on you last time.

“such a filthy little slut. all you can do is beg for me to ruin you, isn’t that right?”

she wasn’t wrong, thoughts of ellie occupied many parts of your brain, often pushing aside other thoughts to make more room for all things ellie, and right now all you can think about is ellie using you to her liking. her words made you squirm underneath her, and you nodded your head. at this point you didn’t really care how pathetic and needy you looked, you wanted ellie and you didn’t care how much you had to please her. truthfully, you wanted to please her. you wanted ellie to be proud of you and praise you. the thought of her ever losing interest in you was terrifying, so you felt the need to always meet her expectations, even if she did have high standards.

“mhm.. yes… yes mommy”

your words came out between breaths. ellie's hand was now higher up your thigh and her finger tugged at your panties before once again, ripping them off of you along with your skirt. there was something about how aggressive ellie was that never failed to get you aroused. she's a demon, but she's your demon, who, despite being hostile to any living thing around her, has a soft spot for you and only you. even if she does threaten you or lose her temper sometimes, annoy you to the point of wanting to make an escape from the apartment, you know it wouldn't be the same without her.

ellie did not waste any time grabbing onto your thighs and forcing them apart, exposing your dripping cunt to her. it felt like she was taking forever to finally touch you, when you peered up at her you could see her darkened saliva leak from her gritted teeth. she noticed your gaze and she stared at you, giving you a little smirk before lowering her head and resting her forehead against your stomach. the look she gave you forced another stream of arousal to leak out of you and all you wanted was to shove her face between your legs and keep her there, but you knew ellie took her time with you- unless she was having one of those moments where she desperately needed to mate with you.

it was typical ellie behavior to press her nose into your skin and sniff you, you were used to that, but when her hot breath is so dangerously close to your cunt, and you can feel her throat vibrate against your clit, you almost lose it there. her hands are on your waist, keeping you still as she drags her mouth down your abdomen. it wasn't like ellie to actually kiss your body, but when she did her lips felt like they were burning into your skin, sinking right to your core. you watched as her face got closer and closer between your legs and you couldn't help but clench around nothing. ellie took a whiff of your arousal once more, a deep growl erupting from her throat just before she made eye contact with you.

"you smell delicious"

you didn't have time to react or even register what ellie had said to you, her face was already buried between your legs and lapping at your cunt. a sob spilled from your mouth and you could feel ellie grin against you, as much as you squirmed it did nothing to shake the woman off. she was glued to you, absolutely obsessed with your taste. ellie was very messy and sloppy whenever she ate you out, she was very adamant about reducing you to a filthy, wailing mess. her tongue danced around your clit before flattening her tongue and dipping between your folds, collecting any wetness that leaked out of you. tears fell from your eyes, it was all too much, ellie's tongue was everywhere at once, flicking against your clit, buried inside you and hungrily lapping at every part of you.

ellie's hand was on your abdomen, her thumb slowly rubbing against your skin as she continued her assault on your cunt. you could hear and feel her groan against your clit, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine and your back to arched, which failed due to ellie immediately pinning your hips down again. she enjoyed how much you squirmed and tried to wiggle away, being able to force you back down and overpower you. you whined, choking out a sob over how perfect ellie's mouth felt on your cunt. your head was spinning and growing foggy, not a thought in your brain except how disgusting you are for giving your body to this vile creature. the embarrassment hit you again, how exposed and needy you are for ellie, sobbing with that fucked out expression. all you can do is moan and say her name over and over, babbling whatever incoherent words are coming out of your mouth. you look down at she's staring right into your soul, not once blinking as she makes a bigger mess of you, drooling and spitting over your cunt.

"look at you, just a dumb little slut. you like my tongue, don't you?"

you nodded frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks and ellie chuckled at your pathetic expression. your legs were wobbly, but your hips attempted any movement they could- desperately grinding more against ellie's mouth, which she seemed to enjoy by the sound of her guttural noises and groans. she loved your taste, perhaps it was more addicting than your scent she's so obsessed with. this woman could eat you out for hours, non stop. her stamina is infinite, if it means having some fun with her precious darling, ellie would fuck you forever.

ellie didn't have a particular rhythm, she just devoured you as much as she possibly could. you could hear the absolute filth of her slurping and lapping away, sucking and then mixing her saliva with your arousal. she was like a starved animal, rough and filled with carnal desire. it didn't bother her how much you thrashed around and jerked your body, her darling couldn't slip away from her, your squirming only made her more hungry for you. your screams and sobs always earned an evil laugh from her, and her fingers would press into your flesh, bruising and marking up your body. you slowly reached your shaking hand down, stretching out your index finger to hook it with ellie's bony one. as weak as your body was, every part of you turning to mush, you couldn't let go of ellie's finger, you held onto her, the only part you could.

“oh, fuck.. mommy.. hnng”

you eyes closed shut and you bit down onto your lip, your vision was going blurry, you couldn’t meet the woman’s eyes even if you tried, and you were sure she was still staring at you. ellie wasn’t going to take her malign pupils off her pretty girl, especially when she looks so perfect at her mercy. she carefully examined every tear that fell down your cheek, every breath and those adorable expressions you make whenever she teases you in such a way that makes your head spin. you were growing closer to the point of passing out, but ellie’s sinful mouth was successful at bringing you back to reality, the filthy, shameful reality of your want and need for this demon you’ve grown so fond of. it’s wrong, disgusting, but you’re too far gone and you simply don’t care. you’ve fallen for this wicked woman, you let her hands corrupt your mortal body and you couldn’t be happier to be bound to your captor.

something was pooling in your stomach and your grip on ellie’s finger tightened slightly, she took notice of that and twirled her digit around yours, playing with your much smaller hand. curses were mumbled underneath your breath, you were dangerously close to cumming, but you knew that ellie would not have you climaxing without her permission. you were afraid that one more swipe of her tongue would send you into that state of bliss you were needing so badly.

“i’m so close.. mommy.. can i please cum?”

you whined, weakly grabbing her wrist and bucking your hips as much as you could. if ellie rejected your request you would have just cried and wailed, bearing her torture that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. your hips stuttered, every part of you ached, and that was exactly what ellie wanted. she wasn’t done until you were broken, she’d wreck you until you were nothing, but her wicked hands and sweet curses were enough to soothe you, even if she isn't the most gentle afterwards as well. you tried to hold out as long as you could, though ellie's tongue worked faster against your swollen clit.

“that’s it, be a good girl and cum for me”

your thighs were trembling, slowly closing in on ellie's head, the heat between your legs kept getting hotter, ellie's voice did something to you. it wasn't her demonic voice that sent chills down your spine, she sounded genuine, helping you through your high. right there you could believe ellie had even the slightest bit of humanity in her rotten body, and it was all for you, her precious darling.

with a scream your hips bucked and your hand tugged at ellie's, the hot pool in your stomach breaking apart and soon you came undone. there was drool leaking from your mouth, your chest rising and falling with every deep breath, as tired and oversensitive as you were, you locked your hand with ellie's, and for once her grip softened, almost caressing your hand gently. your lower body went numb, yet you could feel ellie place a small peck to your clit before leaving a couple on your thighs. you shuddered at every little kiss she placed on your thighs, there was so much tension in your body and all you could do was lay there, vision blurry and heart nearly beating out of your chest. you were panting, whimpering her name between each breath and ellie lifted her head from between your thighs and leaned closer to you, taking the side of your flushed cheek in her hand. her claws weren't poking into your skin anymore, she was holding you like some kind of fragile piece of glass, in such a way that was foreign to both you and her. with her touch you could finally calm down, you leaned into her touch and for once you could somehow feel at ease with your demon.

she's a menace, a parasite that has drained you of your innocence and freedom, but you've accepted that, you've accepted ellie and you believe there is nothing better than that wicked smile she always has plastered on her lips. ellie's face was buried in your hair, continuing her usual ellie things that include gluing herself to you and trying to take in as much of your scent as she possibly could. the little strength you had allowed you to wrap your arms around her body, fingers tracing the bones of her back and shoving your face in the crook of her neck. she whispered praises into your ear, licking and nipping at your skin. you're so used to her doing that, but it feels like a reward for being such a good girl for her. ellie always made you feel safe, but being so close to her like this made you feel special, like you were truly her precious little darling. it was a rare feeling, you had no worry in the world right now. all that mattered was the demon who was currently smothering you with her body so much that if you take another second of it you might suffocate, but as long as you were with ellie you didn't care about anything else. you're content with everything, content with ellie. you can tolerate how absolutely unhinged and evil she is, you prefer her that way, a vile thing who was birthed into some dark cavern of hell and summoned by an ancient relic that you shouldn't be so grateful for, but if it weren't for the human curiosity then you wouldn't have this demon you're so attached to.

and you've completely fallen for this demon.

#evil dead rise #ellie bixler #evil dead rise x reader #ellie bixler x reader #evil dead

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