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thesolferino · 4 years

Text

True Calling

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ word count: 3.9k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream meets his favorite singer on an among us livestream.

“Dude, what could go wrong? Just do it.”

“What could go wrong?! Literally so many things, you ass.”

Dream heard Sapnap sigh through the mic right into his headphones, the dim grey of his Discord background doing barely anything to illuminate his features as he stared at his open messages blankly.

“First of all, don’t.. speak to me like that, I am doing you a favour by sitting here and listening to you panic about stupid shit. Second of all, nothing big could go wrong. What, you’re a little awkward in the beginning, maybe, and that’s it.” Dream adjusted his headphones a little bit, Sapnap’s rant flowing into his ears but dissipating somewhere halfway to his brain, because, yes, things could go wrong and he can’t be proven otherwise.

“Did you forget that I’m a public figure? And that my fans are insane? I say one wrong thing and it’ll be memed and haunt me in my dreams. Did you forget that SHE’s a public figure? And that this is live? God…” he retorts back, listening to Sapnap helplessly sigh once again in response. He anxiously switches from his Discord to Twitter, then to YouTube, to Twitch and then back to Discord, frantically clicking around. In reality, he knows Sapnap is right, and it’s anxiety whispering into his ear that he’s gonna somehow fuck up, but maybe it’s simply easier to stay and argue with him into the night instead of actually responding to that message.

The stream is still going. Quackity’s voice speaks over Sapnap’s quiet breathing. “Damn, he’s still not responding. Um, let me try Tubbo, maybe?”

Before he knows it, the opportunity to join the stream is slipping out of his fingers, and Dream isn’t sure if he’s happy about that or not. On one hand, he gets to meet one of his favorite artists whose album he’s played way too many times to count, and on the other, the chances of him embarrassing himself in front of that same artist and a hundred thousand other people are extremely high, and he’s not sure if he likes the odds of that.

“Man, I don’t know. You won’t listen to me, anyway. Don’t join if you don’t want to.” Dream hears the annoyed tinge in Sapnap’s voice, and that’s what pours the last bit of courage into his veins because the best way to do anything in life is to follow Sapnap’s advice after you’ve already irritated him to the point of defeat, and he murmurs a quick “bye” and hangs up before the other can even respond, typing a rapid “Sure, send me the VC link” back to Quackity.

He hears a delighted exhale coming from his Twitch tab just as Quackity forwards him the link. “Okay, nevermind, we’ve got Dream! He’ll join in a second.”

With that, he swiftly closes the Twitch tab and with an encouraging sip of water, he finally joins the Discord voice chat with the rest of the players. Your Discord image sticks out like a sore thumb to him despite being a super basic, Googleable picture of you that he’s probably seen a million times by now, and upon seeing it, reality slaps him right over the face and he realises that, oh shit, he actually joined.

“Hey everyone.” Dream speaks into the mic and a mix of excited voices greets him at the same time as he loads up the game. Your icon is missing the green halo. He stares at it, as if you’ll magically speak up if he stares long and hard enough. That, apparently, works.

Pokimane’s “Dream, hi!” seems to set something off in your brain, and you speak again.

“Oh, Dream?” the green halo appears, and Dream resists the urge to say something stupid or bite his hand or anything of the sort when you say his name. “Aren’t you the guy who listens to my music all the time?” you giggle.

Quackity laughs loudly in his usual fashion, and Dream feels his hands go cold as the Among Us loading page pops up. “Wh-huh?”

“Yeah, you-you listen to my music a lot! Your fans always tag me under that… ‘Dream’s Spotify’ Twitter account, I remember you.” Dream swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and start bouncing around on the floor because his ribs are way too restrictive for that type of movement, but he tries his best to play it cool and laughs lightheartedly.

“I do! I’m, like, your biggest fan.” he grins, as if you can see him, and you laugh in return.

“Yeah, man, you pay my rent. Thanks.” you say and a couple of people laugh while Dream inputs the code and his character finally pops up, immediately running around like the rest of the group. He runs around your purple character and hears you chuckle as you run around him too, but not for long, because the game starts and everyone mutes themselves. He audibly sighs, because he can afford to, considering he’s not streaming and nobody can hear the amount of courage this whole thing is taking him.

A notification pops up on his screen - the Dream Team group chat seems to be talking. Must’ve already found some way to make fun of me, he thinks to himself as he huffs out a large breath and runs through cafeteria and weapons to do his tasks in navigation. Corpse is hot on his tail the whole time, and not to say he’s an untrustworthy guy, but Dream isn’t really looking forward to getting killed before even speaking to you properly, so he runs around, trying to find somebody to stick with so Corpse doesn’t shove a knife in his back while he’s doing a task.

Thankfully, Karl emerges somewhere from the direction of storage right into communications where Dream was going, too. Just as Dream starts finishing download and Corpse and Karl line up behind him, his screen flashes bright red and white and the bold letters “Dead body reported” pop up. Everyone unmutes themselves and his eyes bore into your character, immediately.

“Alright, the body was in top left of the… uh, upper engine. I need everyone’s positions.” Rae immediately spoke.

“I was in electrical, I-I went through cafeteria to the upper engine with Poki, there was nobody there, we did our tasks, went down to lower engine, then Poki left with Toast, and I went to electrical and the body was reported.” Sykkuno said, and Pokimane confirmed with a hum of agreement.

“Dream?” Rae asked, and he spoke up.

“I never even went that way, I went through weapons to nav, and then to communications, and then the body was found. Corpse can vouch for me because he was following me the entire time and I kinda thought he was gonna kill me. And Karl saw me in communications, us three were all together when you… reported the body.” He rambled, trying to defend himself.

“Yeah, it’s true, he was with me the whole time.” Corpse supported.

“Karl, which way did you get to communications?” Toast asked.

“Uh, through storage.” Karl replied quickly.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was in security, and I could swear I saw you walk past.” Toast said, and a couple of “ooh”s echo through the call.

“That makes no sense because even if I did go that way, I wouldn’t have time to get to communications and start doing my task with Dream and Corpse if I killed Ethan! And Rae, you-you saw me do my task in storage!” Karl loudly defended himself.

“...that… that’s true, yeah.” she said.

“If you ask me, Toast, you’re being real sus for lying about that.” Karl threw it back at Toast, who protested.

“Listen, I didn’t say you killed anybody, I just said I saw someone run past!” he claimed.

“Bretman and Y/N are being real quiet, though.” Corpse points out, and the green halo around your icon lights up once again.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise I was muted. Sorry, guys.” you laughed. “Um, I was with… Quackity, in… what’s that shit on the right called?”

“O2.” Quackity quickly jumped in.

“Right, O2. I went to… top left, first, and I did my tasks there, and then to weapons and then to O2, and then the body was reported.”

“You were in top left?” Rae repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And was there anyone with you?”

“Um… no? I was alone, and then I saw Quackity in top right, and then we went to, uh, O2 together.” you said and Corpse sighed loudly.

“That means she could’ve had the time to kill Ethan and run.” Toast points out.

“Hey! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how this game works…” you whined into the mic and Quackity laughed.

“Yeah, I dunno Y/N, you were dancing real suspiciously around me…” he said, causing you to defend yourself louder.

“Why would I kill anyone?! I don’t even know how to do that, I’m a nice person!”

“I don’t think she did it, guys.” Dream pipes up, tugging at the wire of his headphones absentmindedly.

“Shut up, you simp.” Quackity fires back instantly, making everyone in the call laugh, including Dream.

“Damn right, I’m a Y/N simp. She can do no wrong. I mean, look at that innocent face! She did nothing, I’m-I’m sure.” He argued, making you cover your mouth and giggle.

“Their face is literally the same as everyone’s! We’re all astronauts!” Rae protested, but Dream kept shaking his head.

“No, hers is more innocent.” he said. “Toast, why are you so set on accusing everyone, anyway?”

“Oh, you’re so not attacking Toast right now-”

“Guys, I think we should skip.” Sykkuno pipes up to calm the conversation, and everyone agrees, even though most of them mumble “sus” under their breath as soon as they mute their mics.

Dream’s tiny green astronaut stomps his way over to the left side immediately, changing paths this time and making his way into the Upper Engine, trying to finish his tasks in time and possibly find someone to accompany him so he at least doesn’t have to argue over his alibi. He had four tasks left, two of them in Upper Engine, so after that he was free to roam around wherever his heart desired. Just as he started doing one of them, he watched your purple character step in and run circles around him, earning you a quiet laugh that he didn’t know he uttered until he heard himself do it and silently scolded himself for getting that flustered at something so simple.

The two of you did your tasks together before going down to reactor. Just as Dream started doing one of his tasks, a dead body was reported again and he unmuted himself as Toast immediately started borderline yelling into his headphones.

“Bretman just killed Sykkuno RIGHT in front of me. I literally watched him do it. He killed Sykkuno in COLD BLOOD.” he confidently claimed and Dream, quite uninterested, grabbed his bottle of water and lightly sipped on it, wiping beads of sweat resting right above his eyebrows with his forearm, blindly looking around the darkness, trying to get his eyes to adjust looking away from the computer screen. His eyes searched for the window - it was open, just enough to let a fresh breeze inside, but it never seemed to do that, letting humid air in with open arms like a welcome guest. Florida is fucking hell, he thinks, gulping down some more water.

“No, I didn’t! I seriously did not, he’s the one who killed him and is trying to frame me now. I swear to God, Toast…” Bretman shouted into his worn mic, trying to argue back.

“Yeah, to be honest, Bretman, you were silent the whole time when Ethan died.” Rae reasoned, earning quite a lot of “ooh”s and causing little “voted” signs to appear next to Poki, Toast and Karl’s names as Bretman tried his best to fight back.

“I didn’t know I was muted the whole time! You know I’m bad at this! Why would I... you know what, nevermind! Vote me! Vote me! You’ll see when Toast kills you all, I don’t care anymore. I literally saw-”

Dream slumps further into his chair, sure that the foam would have a dent of his body shape imprinted even when he’s long gone from it, and unlocks his phone with a quiet sigh. He opens Discord, and wishes he hadn’t, because Sapnap and George are always on the front lines and ready to make fun of him at any chance possible. He types back a stupid joke, calling them losers, but before he can press send, a Twitter notification pops up on his phone that almost makes his painfully sweaty hands lose grip of the phone.

“this is so boring” your message reads, from your official Twitter account. Dream blinks a few times, and looks up from his phone to observe his murky, empty room, eyes flashing from the window to the ripped chocolate bar wrapper that somehow made its way onto the floor to a cup of coffee from this afternoon. Did the humid air finally get to him? Hallucinations?

He clicks on the notification - it proves to not be a product of his imagination, after all. Three dots dance around on his screen cheerfully, but they suddenly stop. His ears tune in. Bretman is still defending his honor. Something else must’ve interrupted you. His shaky hands barely hit the right letters.

He takes a handful of screenshots amidst his euphoria, and forwards them to the group chat with no caption besides an emoji sticking its tongue out - he wants to tell them to suck his dick, or something along those lines, but your message remains a priority as he rushes back to the Twitter app to reply.

“Right” he manages to write without a typo. “They’re annoying”

Three dots immediately return to his screen like a happy memory, and he almost can’t believe you’re texting back so fast. George would probably humble him by saying it’s because you have nothing better to do, but what George doesn’t know can’t hurt him, Dream supposes, and clicks on your profile instinctively as he adjusts his headphones on one ear. By the time you finish typing your message, the group decided to vote out Bretman, who ended up not being an imposter.

The three dots disappear as quick as they came, and so does the anticipation that bubbled up in Dream’s throat as he sourly leaves to finish the rest of his tasks. The rest of the game stays as boring as it started, save for the giggles and hushed laughter that came from you at every few jokes he made - of which he made quite a lot, in a desperate attempt to make you laugh, at least a little bit. Of course, Quackity was there every step of the way to accidentally mention how Dream sounded a lot more hype and alive during this game than he does ever, but you win some, you lose some, eh?

In the next game you actually decided to set up proximity chat, so of course Dream followed you around everywhere, hot on your tail at all times - what else is he supposed to do, when the chance presented itself, really?

“Are you imposter?” His character obnoxiously ran circles around you as you did your wires task slowly and unsurely since this stream was your first time playing.

“No, but I wouldn’t tell you even if I was, dummy.” You replied, running around his own character briefly before running up to do the rest of your tasks, watching the green astronaut follow you close behind.

“Why not?” Dream questioned, eyes following all your movements since he didn’t have anything better to do considering he finished all his tasks.

“Do you not know how this game works?”

“Yeah, but you’d tell me, right? I wouldn’t… rat you out.” He heard a sigh coming through his headphones in response, and his grin widened just a little, watching your character walk away from him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” you replied. “I’ll tell you if I’m imposter, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, would you?” Dream spoke into his mic, reaching to fix it and realising the way his hand trembled a little, fully aware he was walking the line between flirty and obnoxious more than usual. He lowered his gaze just to see his keyboard reflect the light of the computer back to him - the sweat from his palms seemed to seep onto the keyboard. He refused to think about the mocking things his best friends would say if they found out how nervous he was just to talk to you.

“No, of course not! I wouldn’t be able to kill you.” You chirped just as a dead body was discovered and the two of you were torn from the conversation.

In the next one, his screen flashed an ominous black and red with the word “Impostor” and your purple character stood proudly next to his green one, and he snickered to himself, adjusting his headphones one more time (the more he did it, the more he was convinced it was one of those anxious habits of his).

Shifting in his chair, he started moving and couldn’t believe his eyes when he realised the two of you managed to lock yourselves in a room with Corpse and Sykkuno, accomplishing a double kill in barely the first two minutes of the game. The two of you vented while Dream muttered curses under his breath, breaking out in a sweat wondering if you’re going to get caught or not as you casually hummed to a random tune while faking tasks, hitting the notes in such an effortless way that it made Dream relax and get even more nervous at the same time. It didn’t take too long before the body was found, and you seemed to adapt to the game very quickly, as Dream just sat back most of the time and watched you stretch out a whole essay on why you and Dream could NOT have been imposters.

“Why would they stick together the whole time? Couldn’t they get at least someone else to vouch for them?” Toast complained.

“Girl, Dream wants some… alone time with Y/N, obviously.” Bretman said, despite being the one most sus of you in the first place, forcing laughter out of the whole lobby, Dream’s sticking out the most as his mood constantly swayed from finding the whole thing funny to being worried sick if you actually find him weird.

“Exactly! And we’re gonna have our alone time if we want to, thank you very much.”

Well, Dream thinks, taking a stressed gulp of water from his bottle, at least we cleared that one up.

“I don’t think that sounded the way you wanted it to, Y/N.” Karl pipes up, making Quackity burst into another fit of loud laughter, and you immediately protested.

“It sounded exactly the way I wanted it to! Now, vote Rae or else.”

When the meeting was over, he ran after you through cafeteria, grin splitting out on his face before he even spoke.

“You’re pretty…” his silence extended as he watched your character stare at his. “...pretty smart.”

You snorted. “Right. You’re pretty…” you extended your silence in return, mocking him. “...too.”

His heart jumps. “You forgot a word there.” he says as you stomp out to storage.

“I said what I said, Dreamy.”

He swears this can’t be healthy for his blood pressure. In the corner of his eye, Discord notifications pop up like crazy. The boys must be watching your stream. His heart swells with both pride and dread, knowing he’s about to be called something along the lines of pretty Dreamy for the next two months.

“How do you know I’m pretty? You’ve never even seen my face.” Dream replies as heat creeps up like a spirit rising from soil, from the back of his neck, seeping into his ears and cheeks somewhat equally. His eyes dart to the window again. Of course it’s the stupid Florida weather that has him burning up, flustered. Maybe he should open another window.

“Is this an invitation to see it?” you say, a teasing tone clinging off your voice and he can practically hear you smiling.

“No, I’m just saying! If you want to see it, though, that… that can be arranged.” he bites his lip as a physical attempt of holding back the smile that breaks out as he waits for your response, chest puffing in both nervousness and odd confidence.

“Can it? I mean, I don’t need to see it, I just know already, you have those… pretty boy vibes. But I wouldn’t…” you chuckle. “...be opposed to seeing it, for sure. Don’t count on me not to leak the pictures, though. I want the clout.”

“What do you MEAN you want the clout, you’re Y/N! You don’t need clout from a Minecraft YouTuber!” He argues back, a small wheeze escaping him mid sentence as you giggle and run around, with him following your every move.

“You keep my fucking lights on, man! Whenever your Spotify Twitter account thingy tweets that you’re listening to my stuff, the streams go up! I need your clout.” you say as you run into admin and snap Toast’s neck and run back out casually, as if nothing happened.

“Yeah, that’s how me listening to your songs on repeat works.” he says and you let out some sort of irritated groan.

“Shut up, smartass.” Just as you say that, somebody seems to find the body and you’re pulled into a meeting, where Rae susses both of you immediately.

“No, because both of you are always together! And someone always spots you walking by the place where the bodies are found! At some point that can’t be a coincidence, right?” she accuses, practically yelling into the mic.

“Of course they’re always together, check- check fuckin’ Twitter! They’re trending on like three different spots already!” Quackity jumps in, loud as always, and the lobby gives off mixed reactions.

“What? We are?” Dream asks, and Quackity confirms with a “yeah, man! Check!” and so he complies, quickly pulling out his phone to check the trending tabs. Sure enough, among the politics and sports, “DREAM Y/N”, “PRETTY BOY” and “DREAM FACE” are crammed, sat at 7th, 14th and 18th place, respectfully. A satisfied grin breaks out on his face. At least they see it, too.

“This has to be the first time Dream has trended for something heterosexual.” Karl points out, earning loud laughter from Quackity and Bretman, less loud on your part.

“Exactly! We’re a power couple! Stay mad!” You shouted, with Dream supporting you in the background, although still shyly adjusting his headphones every few seconds, unable to comprehend that oh, this is actually happening.

Both of you get voted out during the next few minutes, but that really means nothing to Dream - they actually do him quite a favor, because the two of you get to excuse yourselves and he sees those three familiar dots dance on his screen again as he leans back into his chair with a dopey grin, playing with the strings of his sweatpants, waiting for your next and next and next message.

He opens Discord on his computer to type one last message into the groupchat before turning it off for the night:

Dream (03:14): maybe Minecraft wasn’t my calling after all

Dream (03:14): can’t believe I just met my soulmate on Among Us

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #dream fluff #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt x reader

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative.

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

#lol thank you for this ask tho #I havent gone on a good Spyral rant in months #it does wonders for my pores

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fics-n-stuff · 3 years

Text

Affluenza | Pt2

Pairing: JJ × Kook!Reader

Summary: Y/N celebrates her birthday with a party that she didn't want to throw and finds out a sad truth about the boy that's not quite her boyfriend, but being in each other's company makes things at least a little better.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and descriptions of injury, reference to drugs

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I'm so happy that so many people liked pt1!! It means the absolute world to me that people are reading and enjoying my work 🥰 Pt3 might take a little longer to get out, but I'll try to post it asap.

Taglist: @alotbnouf @fairypitou @305weasley @thecraziestcrayon @sofamochi @arvinrussellseggplant

Thanks for reading guys ❤

Pt1 here | Pt3 here

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s your birthday on Saturday!?” JJ exclaimed, letting go of your hand and sitting up from where you had both been lying on the deck of your boat.

“I didn’t think it was that big a deal.” You replied with a laugh. “I kinda just forgot to mention it.”

“But what if I wanted to buy you a present?”

“I don’t need a present from you JJ.” You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek and pulling him down for a kiss.

The two of you had been dating for a couple of months now, and although you very much considered yourselves to be together neither of you had said the words ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’ yet. The time you spent together was private, you kept it a secret from everyone; you didn’t want your family to know and he was hesitant to tell his friends, exactly why you weren’t sure but you didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t as if you were sneaking around, you were just being careful.

“I have plenty things already, your company is enough.” You said, pulling away from the kiss and sitting up yourself. “But unfortunately I won’t be able to see you on my actual birthday. Mom’s making me throw a party and every teenager on Figure Eight will be there, so I doubt you’d want to come.”

“I wouldn’t be welcome even if I did want to.” JJ chuckled. You hummed in agreement.

“That’s why I wanted to celebrate today.” You chirped, getting up to retrieve a cooler that you had brought with you.

“What’s in there?”

“A special birthday picnic.”

“Oh, I see.” He grinned as you took your seat opposite him again. “And what does that consist of?”

“Well, let’s have a look.” You opened up the cooler and looked in at what you had packed with a smile. “Of course the standard picnic items; sandwiches, fruit, some baked sweets.” You listed as you took them out of the cooler. “And then, as I learned from my mother, a young lady cannot celebrate her birthday without a bottle of champagne.”

“Fancy.” JJ nodded, taking the bottle from you.

“Not as fancy as these.” You said, taking the glasses out. “Crystal champagne flutes. I snuck them out of the cabinet. We only use them for the most special of occasions and my mom loves them so we have to be careful.”

“I can be careful.” JJ poured the champagne, and you clinked your glasses with a smile. “Happy early birthday.”

“This is a much better celebration than my party will be.” You sighed, finishing your sip and setting your glass down. “I don’t understand why my mom insists that I have to have one, I’m not actually friends with anyone that’s coming.”

“But I thought you said every kid on Figure Eight was going? You’re not friends with anybody?”

“No, not really. They’re all just so fake, I can’t stand it. I genuinely don’t think that any of them are really friends with each other and they’re just constantly pretending, but I can’t be bothered to pretend.” You rolled your eyes and JJ laughed.

“Sounds exhausting.” He smiled.

“What are your friends like, J?” You asked, genuinely just curious. He told you a bit about them, stories of the crazy stuff they had done, but you never got in depth about it. You felt like it was probably because he wasn’t ready to integrate the two parts of his life.

“They’re good.” He nodded. “I mean, we’re basically family. They’re just not the biggest fans of Kooks.”

“Well, neither are you.” You giggled.

“You know what I mean. I think you’d like them, I’m just worried that they wouldn’t want to give you chance.”

“How much do you bet I could win them over just like I did you?”

“I wouldn’t love it if you won them over exactly the same way as me.” He smirked, gently taking hold of your chin and pulling you in for a kiss, which you both laughed into. “I'm gonna get you a birthday present. What if I come by on Saturday just for a minute to deliver it?”

“You know I’ll be happy to see you, but nobody else at the party will.”

“Eh, who cares.” He shrugged, and you grinned broadly.

“Okay, if you insist.” You conceded. “Now let’s eat this picnic that I so painstakingly curated.”

+ + +

Your birthday party was in full swing, the ground floor of your house teeming with teenagers. People were drinking, dancing and jumping in the pool and you weren’t enjoying any of it.

Your mother had gifted you a particularly ugly necklace that was basically just a tangle of gold chain, and Nicholas had openly bad mouthed your father for only getting you a few books, even though that’s what you had asked for. The detest that you felt for him was justified. Your dad was actually supposed to have arrived back on the island the day before, but it wasn’t unusual for him to get held up with work.

You pushed past a group of boys having some loud conversation on your way into the kitchen and poured yourself a strong drink. You threw the drink back in one gulp and slammed the plastic cup back down onto the countertop with a loud sigh.

“What’s wrong, birthday girl?” Topper asked over the music, his arm slung around Sarah’s shoulders as they came up beside you.

“I’m fine.” You shrugged.

“Did your dad get you a good present this year?” Sarah asked with a smile. “A new car maybe?”

“I already have a car.” You replied with a flat chuckle. “He got me some books that I asked for.”

“That’s kinda boring.” Topper commented. You rolled your eyes and Sarah smacked him in the side.

“I think that’s sweet. What kind if books?”

You told Sarah about the books you had gotten, actually kind if enjoying the conversation. Sarah was actually pretty easy to talk to, you felt like the fact that you weren’t putting on an act made her kind of drop hers, and it was a refreshing break from the way that the rest of the teens on Figure Eight were constantly pretending to be the perfect versions of themselves.

Your explanation of the premise of one of your books was interrupted when you felt your phone ringing in your pocket. You took it out and saw that it was your dad, and you smiled.

“I gotta take this.” You excused quickly before rushing outside to get away from the music. You answered the call excitedly, greeting your dad with a bright tone.

“Hey, Pumpkin, happy birthday!” He exclaimed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call this morning, I got caught up in meetings. You know how it is.”

“I know, dad. It’s okay, you’re calling now. Are you done with work? Do you think you’ll get here tonight?” You questioned eagerly. You heard him let out a sigh, and your smile fell.

“About that, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bumps in the road.” He began. You felt your heart sink and you were already scolding yourself for getting your hopes up before he could even tell you what the reason for missing your birthday was. “My meetings haven’t gone as well as I’d hoped and it looks like I’m going to be held up for a few more days.”

“Oh, right, okay.” You nodded, keeping your voice steady even as your eyes welled with tears. “Hope things get better then.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I really did want to be there. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back; we can have a movie marathon night, completely your pick.” You let out a chuckle despite yourself. He might not be around much but he still knew you well, and movie marathon nights were one of your favourite things to do with him.

“Sounds great, dad. I can’t wait.”

“I hope you’ve had a good day, at least. What have you been getting up to?”

“I’m having a party, actually.” You replied. You didn’t need to tell him that you didn’t want to have the party and weren’t actually really enjoying it.

“Right now? I’ll let you get back to it then.” Your dad smiled down the phone. “Have fun.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Love you, Pumpkin.”

“Love you too.”

You said your goodbyes and ended the call, and you tucked your phone back into the pocket of your shorts. You just stood there for a few moments, the loud music and whooping of partying teenagers emanating from the house, before tears began to fall. You shook with a silent sob and had to take a seat on the concrete of your driveway.

You sat there, with your legs pulled up to your chest and your head in your knees, for a few minutes. You sniffed, wiping your tears away on the back of your hand, when you heard a shuffle of footsteps and looked up quickly.

“JJ.” You acknowledged quickly, furiously wiping at your eyes as he walked up the driveway.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He asked, his voice edged with concern. You were ready to brush away his concerns, but as he got closer you saw the bruising on his face and suddenly you had some worries of your own.

“What happened to you?”

“I asked first.” JJ countered. You watched him as he came to sit down next to you, lifting your hand and softly placing it just below his purpled cheekbone, inspecting the fresh bruising around his eye and the split in his lip, then noticing the discolouration around his collarbone. He took the hand away gently, intertwining your fingers, and you saw that there was no bruising on his knuckles; these weren’t injuries earned in a fair fight. “Why are you crying?” He repeated.

“No, that doesn’t matter.” You shook your head. You weren’t trying to downplay your upset anymore, you just knew that whatever had happened to JJ was more important. “Who did this to you, JJ?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” He smiled, but there was no joy or amusement behind it. You hesitated for a moment before conceding.

“My dad missed my birthday again.” You told him. “The last time he actually made it home for my actual birthday was when I turned eleven, and yet somehow I still get my hopes up every year. I hate this party, there are at least three different types of club drugs being taken in my house right now, I’m sad. You’re turn.”

JJ sighed. He looked down at your joined hands, pausing to think for a moment before looking back up at you. He let out a short breath of soft laughter, lifting his free hand and smoothing his thumb over the crease that had formed on your brow.

“Promise not to freak out?” He asked.

“Okay.” You replied shakily. You could try to limit your reaction at least. “But you have to tell me the truth, J.”

“My dad hits me.” JJ said quickly, and you felt your lips part in shock. “I stay with John B most of the time, I try to stay out of his way when I’m home, but it’s not like I can avoid him completely.”

“Wha- Why don’t you tell somebody?” You stuttered. “Call the police or protective services or-?”

“I don’t want to.” He interrupted. “I’m happy here with my friends and if I get protective services involved then they’ll ship me off to the mainland. I can deal with my dad.”

“This doesn’t look like dealing.” You muttered softly, pushing the collar of his t-shirt to the side to get a better look at the bruise that it was partially covering. “When is this from?”

“Yesterday. I went home to get some money so I could buy you this.” JJ shifted to reach into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat box. “It’s not much but it’s all I could afford.”

You took the box from him curiously, unlinking your hand from his so that you could pull off the lid. Inside was a small silver necklace, a thin chain with a small circular pendant. When you lifted it up you saw that the pendant had a map of the world etched into it. The necklace was simple and sweet, and you felt a big smile take over your face.

“You didn’t have to get me this, J.” You simpered.

“I told you I wanted to.” He smiled back. You handed the box back to him and turned to face away, and JJ eagerly fastened the chain around your neck. He struggled a little with the tiny clasp, making you giggle. His hands ran over your shoulders before he dropped them, and you turned back to him with the smile gone from your face.

“You went through that just so you could buy this for me?” You murmured. JJ's smile faltered but didn’t fall, and he nodded slightly.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. It’s just what happens.”

You sat silently for a little while, but your peaceful moment was interrupted by a loud round of cheering from inside. You looked over your shoulder towards the house with a groan, but then lightened up when you got an idea.

“You wanna get away from this bullshit?” You asked, gesturing towards the party.

“You wanna leave your own birthday party?” He asked with a chuckle. You shrugged.

“Nobody will notice that I’m gone. I’ll just have to come back at, like, midnight to kick everybody out.”

“Okay, then let’s go.” JJ smiled.

“Alright. Give me one minute.” You giggled, getting up quickly. “Just wait here a sec.”

You ran back into the house and pushed past all of the people to the stairs, heading up to your bedroom. You had kept the door locked to keep out horny couples. You rooted through one of your drawers until you found a set of keys, switched out of your party sandals to a pair of converse, and grabbed your car key off of your vanity before heading back out, making sure to lock your door behind you again.

You paused on the stairs to scan the crowd until you spotted Sarah, and pushed past the bodies towards her.

“Y/N! Where’d you go?” She shouted over the music.

“Just outside. I’m gonna disappear from the party for the bit, can you call me if something major happens?” You asked. Sarah frowned.

“But this is your birthday party.”

“I know it’s weird, but I’ve got some other stuff going on right now and I just need to get away for a bit.”

“Okay, I guess that makes sense. I’ll call you if anything happens.” She nodded, though the confusion was still clear on her face.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” You smiled, before heading back out.

JJ was stood at the side of the driveway waiting for you when you came back out, slamming the front door shut after yourself. You grabbed his hand and pulled him after you to your car with a smile.

“Where are we going?” He questioned as you started the engine and began backing out.

“My other house.” You answered.

“Sorry, did you say ‘other house’?”

“My dad’s house. He hasn’t been home in eight months and I haven’t been there in about five, but a cleaner comes by every two weeks to maintain it.” You explained.

“Jesus you’re rich.” JJ mumbled. He had a teasing smile on his face but the comment made you feel a little guilty.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to show off or anything. We don’t have to go to my dad’s if you don't want-"

“Y/N, it’s fine.” He laughed. “You didn’t choose to be born into a rich family the same way I didn’t choose to be born into a poor one.”

“I know, I just don’t want to be... insensitive isn’t the right word. I just don’t want to seem like I take it for granted; I don’t want you think that I’m that kind of person.”

“I don’t.” He assured you. “You don’t treat me like I’m any different for being poor, so I don’t care that you’re rich.”

It wasn’t long until you were pulling into the driveway of your dad’s house. It was grand and expensive looking, but it was still smaller than your mom’s; she had kept the house after the divorce and since your dad wasn’t even home most of the time he’d decided that he didn’t need quote so much space.

The inside was modestly decorated, no elaborate sculptures or outlandish wall decorations like so many of the other houses on Figure Eight. The furniture was very nice, and the few paintings and things that were on the walls were expensive, but your father was a man of simple taste. He didn’t even have any fancy chandeliers.

“I expected something more opulent for the richest man in the Outer Banks.” JJ commented as he looked around.

“Since when was opulent a word in your vocabulary?” You questioned with a giggle. JJ gasped, and pinched you in the side with a frown.

“I’m not completely dumb.” He objected.

You laughed, grabbing his hand and dragging him after you into the living room. You flicked on the light before dropping yourself onto the sofa and pulling JJ down with you.

“What kind of movies do you like?” You asked him as you picked up the remote and switched on the TV.

“Uh, I don’t know, action and horror.” He shrugged.

“What kind of horror? Slasher? Psychological? Paranormal?”

“I don’t know.” He chuckled. You gave an exaggerated sigh, going into the horror section on Netflix.

“Fine, I guess I’ll pick.”

You ended up putting on The Blair Witch Project after discovering that JJ had never seen it, and the two of you settled down. You were thankful to be away from the crowded mess of your birthday party and just have a quiet night with JJ.

“But I don’t understand how they managed to make it scary, basically nothing happened.” JJ perplexed after the movie ended.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s genius.” You grinned up at him. Throughout the course of the film you had ended up lying across the sofa with your head resting on his lap. “All of the horror is in the fact that you know that something this out there but you never see it. Modern horror movies could never.”

“That’s crazy bro.” He said, making you laugh. He looked down at you with an amused smile and a sparkle in his eye that made your heart jump.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night?” You offered once your laughter subsided. “I’m sure my dad has some stuff in his closet that you can sleep in.”

“Are you sure? I mean, don’t you have to go home?”

“Nah, my mom and Nicholas are staying at a hotel tonight so that I can have my party so they won’t know that I’m not there.” You shrugged. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’d like to stay.” He smiled. You let out a relieved breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“Cool. I need to go and kick everyone out of my house but we can watch another movie when I get back if you want?”

“Sounds good to me. Do you want me to come with you?”

“Probably best if you don’t, you know, with the whole ‘every Kook on the island is there’ thing.” JJ laughed lightly at that.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He nodded. “Can I have a shower while you’re gone.”

“Sure.” You chuckled as you sat up. “You can use my en suite and I’ll get you something to change into.”

You took him upstairs, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts from one of your dad’s drawers before showing him into your room. It was plainly decorated like the rest of the house, but you had posters and photos tacked up and covering almost every inch of the walls.

“This is nice.” JJ smiled, looking around.

“Don’t go snooping around while I’m gone, a person’s bedroom is their kingdom.”

“I’ll mind my own business.” He agreed with a salute that made you grin.

“And make sure you dry off properly, I don’t want you dripping all over my nice carpet.”

“Jeeze, any more rules?”

“Uh, nope. I think that’s it.” You chirped. “I should be back in, like, half an hour. I’m pretty sure I left some chicken nuggets in the freezer last time I was here, you can have those if you get hungry. Or maybe I’ll get takeout on my way back?”

“Takeout sounds good.” JJ nodded, beaming, and pulled you in for a kiss before you left.

#outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #jj maybank #jj outer banks #obx jj #obx2 #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar Lesson 17

Series Masterlist

So, the aftermath’s here! This took significantly longer than I thought it would, but oh well. Enjoy everyone!

So, to recap where everyone’s favourite dysfunctional demon family are at right now: Belphie’s still guilt spiralling but he wants to make amends, MC is having a self worth crisis because of what happened, Lucifer was homicidal less than a day ago, and the rest of the brothers are very mad at Belphie.

So, a good little while passes, MC moves back into their room and doesn’t really come out or try to talk to anyone, Lucifer practically lives in his study, and Belphie holes himself up in whichever room that no one else is in.

Keep in mind, no one knows the truth about Lilith’s death yet because it never came up because MC isn’t a descendent of the human version of Lilith.

The brothers (sans Belphie) went and visited MC, who was very happy to see all of them, but everything felt kind of off, everyone was slightly on edge. But nobody brought it up because no one wanted to be the catalyst for the next big family fight, especially so soon after MC got hurt.

It had been almost a week and MC could barely cobble together the desire to leave their room. They had made themselves a prisoner in their own house right after freeing Belphie from his house arrest, how ironic is that?

Stupid…

How naive could they get? To think that just because they were family that everyone would welcome them with open arms? And how stupid would they have to be to believe that they were a proper demon like the rest of them? Demons were manipulative tricksters at their nicest, if MC didn’t understand that than they were a shit excuse for a demon.

Spending time lying in bed staring up at the ceiling wasn’t the best way to pass the time, but MC had grown tired of flicking through the same five apps on their DDD and had contemplated chucking it at the wall. With nothing to distract them, MC was alone with their thoughts.

Of course they couldn’t fend off Belphegor, of course they lost… they barely had any better a hold on their magic than they did when the year started. They weren’t a full demon, but they weren’t some weak little human either, but maybe things would have been better if they were human. If they were human, they wouldn’t have had magic, they wouldn’t have had a fighting chance at all. There would have been no shame in losing. But MC wasn’t a full human, they had their fighting chance and lost anyway.

“MC?”

Their head snapped towards the source of the voice. Through a bright gold glow, they saw an unfamiliar woman, her eyebrows were knit with concern. Not being able to muster up the energy to really be openly panicked, MC sat up and rested their head on their chin, then raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh! Um…” the ghostly woman puffed out her cheek and twiddled her fingers as her eyes darted around the room. “I didn’t exactly think this introduction through, my bad…”

It was MC’s turn to be confused, standing in front of her was a woman who didn’t look like an angel or a demon, yet somehow was able to cobble together the magical strength necessary to actually make herself visible to MC. And now, she was stressing about an awkward introduction.

“I’m Lilith!” The woman finally blurted out, she clamped her eyes shut and quickly stuck her hand out.

MC blinked at the outstretched hand like it was a completely foreign gesture. “…what?”

“Yeah! Um… I uh…” Lilith withdrew her hand and facepalmed. “I’m really sorry…”

“I-uh… Lilith? Like… Lilith, my father’s sister Lilith?”

“…yes?”

“…please explain.”

And Lilith did explain, she explained the ghost bit, how she can’t technically go up to the Celestial Realm nor does she want to, and how she’s kind of been playing guardian Fallen Angel to the entire family.

MC finally got to learn the reason the Grimoire was in the tomb, and why their father was so damn loyal to Diavolo.

Lilith also explains that she’s kind of the reason MC is down in the Devildom in the first place. Lucifer picked an entirely different totally normal human, but Lilith switched the files and MC was brought down instead.

MC still obviously had questions.

“So…” MC mumbled. “That’s why he tried to kill me.”

Lilith pursed her lips and looked away. “Yeah…”

MC let out an explosive sigh as their hand unconsciously creeped to their neck. MC’s fingers brushed over raised skin from barely healed over scratches.

“He wants to apologize.”

“What?”

“Belphie, he wants to apologize to you.”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes, they shifted over so Lilith couldn’t see their face. “Hmph… maybe if he grovels enough I won’t sic Cerberus on him…”

“You’re under no obligation to forgive him-”

“I know!” MC snapped, grinding the base of their palm against their eye to stop the tears that threatened to burst. “And I won’t!”

The problem was, Lilith’s story actually ended up making MC feel bad for him, which made them feel angry at themselves, which made them feel more upset than before.

On one hand, Belphie was motivated by the loss of someone incredibly close to him and never received closure because Lucifer kept Lilith’s “survival” a secret.

On the other hand, Belphie tricked, manipulated, and then tried to kill MC. That couldn’t just be waved off with an “oh he was just grieving”

After some deliberation, MC decided they were going to do one more thing to help Belphie.

“Father.” MC hit their knuckles against the door to their father’s room. The door opened almost immediately and Lucifer stood in the doorway.

“Yes MC? Do you need anything, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to talk to you.”

“Come in then,” Lucifer stepped aside and MC walked into the room, he closed the door behind them. “What is it?”

“I know about what happened with Lilith.”

Lucifer froze, MC did their best to hold his gaze and not waver.

“You need to tell everyone.”

“…how did you find out?”

“She um… told me. Lilith, I mean… she’s still around.” MC awkwardly twirled their finger in the air as they explained. “You’ve kept this hidden for too long, the secret has to be told so this can end.”

Lucifer wasn’t on board immediately, but eventually, he was convinced.

Everyone was gathered, including Belphie, and Lucifer explained what had really happened the day Lilith had died.

Of course there were shouts of shock and outrage that slowly melted into a melancholy silence. Lilith was still around, but her presence was so limited, but she was still there with them! Their sister was still there!

When everyone dispersed to go process the news, Belphie approached MC.

“H-hey.”

MC almost outwardly shuddered at the sound of the Avatar of Sloth’s voice, but they held firm and turned to face him.

Anything they wanted to say died in their throat as MC got a good look at Belphie for the first time in over a week. He looked like complete and utter garbage. His hair was a mess, bags lined the underside of his eyes, and his entire posture seemed to just droop like a wilting flower. Though, it wasn’t like MC had much of a platform to stand on when it came to critiquing appearance at that point in time, they looked just as awful.

“What do you want?” MC asked quietly, they had meant to put more force behind their words, but most if not all of their focus had gone towards not allowing their voice to break or waver.

“To apologize.”

So, Lilith was right, he was sorry. Rage bubbled in MC’s gut as they clenched their fist. How dare he think he could just, apologize and think everything could turn out okay?! MC opened their mouth to scream, cry, hurl every insult they had spent the previous week thinking about, but nothing came out. The anger subsided and MC deflated, they crossed their arms and gestured for Belphie to go ahead.

“Go on.” They mumbled.

Belphie’s gaze drifted to the wall, he clenched his pillow tighter to his chest, then looked back to MC. At least he had the decency to look them in the eye.

“I’m sorry for what I did, MC. I messed up and I hurt you. I blamed you for something you had nothing to do with, even though you were nothing but nice to me. No excuse would make what I did any better, so I’m… I’m sorry…”

MC gnawed on their lower lip and knitted their eyebrows. He sounded sincere enough, but MC wasn’t just going to roll over and forgive him just like that. They were still so angry and betrayed, but they didn’t want to be. Stupid feelings…

They took a deep breath and squared their shoulders, looking Belphie directly in the eyes.

“Okay.”

“…okay?”

“Okay.” MC repeated. “I’m not going to forgive you just to absolve your guilt, but I’m done with this. It’s over and I’m moving on. If you’re really sorry, don’t ever do something like that again.”

The tiniest glimmer of hope sparkled in Belphie’s eyes as he nodded. “I swear on my life I’ll never do anything like that again.”

MC stiffly nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to my room. I have school tomorrow.”

When Belphie turned to go back to his room, Lucifer melted out of the shadows and stood next to MC.

“That was very big of you.”

“Thanks father.” MC mumbled.

“Are you sure you want to go to school tomorrow? I can ask Lord Diavolo to extend your time off.”

“No,” MC shook their head. “I’m ready. Besides,” They stifled a giggle. “I don’t want to miss everyone’s reactions to Human History.”

Wanting to watch demons freak out about weird parts of human history is a very valid reason to want to go to school.

Anyway, all eight residents of the HOL goes back to school, and MC’s cover story was that they had gotten the flu and was too sick to go to school, and Belphie had been brought back from the human world early. No one had the balls to question the seven rulers of hell, so no one asked any questions.

Luke was very excited to see his friend again, so excited that he got in trouble for talking in class. No big deal, lunchtime was still free for them to talk!

The day was perfectly normal, which was a blessing for everyone.

Diavolo officially deemed that Belphie was no longer a threat to the exchange program, so Belphie was allowed to return to his student council duties without issue.

Things between Diavolo and Barbatos and MC were quite… confusing.

For one thing, Diavolo was the crown prince and MC had really liked him before the stuff in the previous timeline and learning about exactly how he had secured their father’s loyalty.

And for Barbatos… he was just fucking terrifying.

“MC!”

The sound of Diavolo jovially calling their name jolted MC out of their thoughts. Thinking about the upcoming Demonology midterm would have to wait.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo.” MC knew better than to be openly pissed at the soon to be monarch, especially after everything that had transpired.

“Are you doing alright, MC? How has school been treating you?” Diavolo continued to pepper MC with questions with barely any gaps for MC to actually reply. Barbatos stood on the sidelines with a soft neutral smile on his face, which only served to unnerve MC more.

“I’m doing fine, Lord Diavolo. There’s no need for concern.”

Diavolo’s rampant questioning came to a stop, and MC swore they could see his expression fall ever so slightly.

“I’m glad to hear that, MC. If you need anything, just ask!”

He ended the interaction with a hesitant pat on MC’s head before walking off to his next class. Though, the presence of the butler still loomed behind MC.

“While I’m very glad you’re well, MC,” Barbatos said icily calm. “I must ask that you refrain from going into my room again.”

“Y-yes sir.” MC mumbled.

“Have a lovely day.”

Reason why everyone should be at least a little afraid of Barbatos #473

The relationship between MC and the Royals does end up getting repaired eventually, it’s just… really awkward for the time being.

Home was still awkward as all hell, the murder attempt definitely weakened the brotherly bonds MC had spent months repairing, and the hostility wasn’t doing MC’s emotional recovery much good.

“This is ridiculous.” Lilith’s voice popped into MC’s head while they sat at the dining table finishing up their homework. MC jumped slightly in their seat and frantically looked around for their aunt’s apparition.

“What’s got you spooked?” Satan asked from his place across the table.

“N-nothing. Just a chill.” MC quickly replied, trying to go back to their work.

“Nice recovery, MC. Very smooth.”

“Shut up!” MC thought. “What are you doing in my head?”

“If you want me to leave, just say so.” Lilith’s nasally childlike huff nearly caused MC to openly roll their eyes.

“No, what is it? What do you need?”

“I don’t really need anything, but look at this fractured house!” Lilith cried. “This is worse than the time Mammon stole everyone’s pocket watches!”

“Pocket…watches?”

“It was 1803, get with the program, MC.”

“Lilith, what are we talking about here?”

“Oh! Right! Well, this house is insanely divided and sucky right now, it’s terrible!” Lilith whined, as much as MC hated to submit to their ghostly aunt’s whining, she did have a point.

Just that morning Asmo just happened to neglect to paint Belphie’s nails when he went out of his way just minutes earlier to track down Lucifer to make sure his nails were painted. Later when Belphie walked into the library with Beel, Satan ended up picking up the cat and walking straight out. Satan walking out of a library was like a fish walking out of water.

That wasn’t the only thing either, Mammon had taken it upon himself to be a human (or demon to be more precise) barrier between Belphie and MC at almost all times. The only times when Mammon couldn’t do that was when the witches decided to summon him.

Levi continued to be a recluse, but on the rare occasion he did come out, there was no friendly hellos between him and Belphie.

Lucifer… well, he did a good job hiding his contempt. He had respected MC’s decision to let Belphie try and fix things and he himself seemed eager for everything to be fixed, but he wasn’t exactly aiding in the repairs. Every time he had to look at Belphie it was so expressionless that MC swore that Mammon could swipe someone’s wallet right in front of him and Lucifer wouldn’t even frown.

Even Beel, he bounced back the quickest in terms of being ready to be around Belphie again, but the even psychically linked twins couldn’t fully shake the feeling of distance between the two.

“Well, what do you want me to do? Last time I tried to fix this family’s problems I almost died.”

“H-hey, I don’t think you should joke about that just yet…”

“Bite me. I wasn’t joking.”

“Well… okay. But I can’t really manifest any power right now! Smacking some sense into Belphie really took a toll on my ability to do much.”

“Hmph…” MC thought long and hard, well, two minutes long. “We could hold a movie night.”

Lilith gasped and MC swore they could hear the sound of her clapping her hands together. “Yes! Everyone can hang out and eat popcorn! Oh it’ll be great! Build a Fort! Forts bring people closer together!”

The movie night was the first of many little get togethers that MC quietly orchestrated to get everyone back on speaking terms with each other. They weren’t a direct part of all of them, but they could see the good they were doing.

A small video game tournament, going out to eat together, just relaxing in the same room, all of it added up, and sooner rather than later everyone was back to… not hating each other.

The brothers are still brothers after all, there’s always that tiny instinct that tells siblings to try and ruin the other’s day

As for Belphie and MC’s relationship…

Things slowly but surely moved back to the way they were before. MC came out of their room to sit with everyone and hang out, everyone progressively let Belphie back into their lives, and the nightmares gradually lessened.

For the first time in a little over a month and a half, MC felt truly safe again, which was odd considering they were in their planetarium with someone who they declared they’d never forgive. They still hadn’t, but things had gotten better.

Belphie was doing his damndest to show that he was truly sorry about everything. It started off with small things; helping MC clean the house, giving them pencils when they didn’t have any, covering for them when they had dinner duty,

The little victories may not have seemed very noteworthy, but to Belphie and MC, they were everything.

“That’s Orion, that’s Orion’s Belt,” Belphie pointed up at the shifting ceiling of the planetarium, tracing each and every constellation that he saw and pointing them out to MC and Beel. The latter had seen these stars and heard Belphie’s explanations a thousand times over, but never tired of them. MC was staring up at the gorgeous sight of the human world night sky they had left behind with a small smile on their face.

“That’s Ursa Major,” Beel pointed up as he offered MC the bag of chips he was eating.

“Mhm,” Belphie quietly chirped, he then pointed to a nearby constellation. “And that’s Ursa Minor.”

“Huh, if you connect these stars, it looks like a pair of pants.” MC piped up, tracing the set of stars.

Belphie snickered and nodded. “Yeah, it kind of does.”

“Look, that one’s a spatula!” Beel pointed at a constellation, Belphie snorted and facepalmed.

“Beel, Buddy, that’s the Little Dipper.”

After a little while longer Belphie let out an explosive yawn and stretched out like a cat. MC and Beel yawned in response.

“I’m goin’ to sleep.”

“Belphie wait,” MC giggled. “You can’t sleep here!”

“Watch me.”

“You’ll get a sore back, Belphie.” Beel picked up Belphie and slung him over his shoulder as the Avatar of sloth began to snore, he then turned and sat MC on his other shoulder. “Bedtime for everyone.”

MC let out another yawn and rubbed their eyes. Maybe Belphie had the right idea, it was late as hell…

——————

Author’s Note: You ever know how you want something to turn out in your head, but the moment you go to write it down you kind of want to yeet yourself into oblivion? Yeah that’s what happened here.

The game itself didn’t give me much to work with in terms of how everyone would react if MC didn’t shrug off their near death, so… 🤷‍♀️ oh well! What’s done is done!

#obey me #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #Obey me MC #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Barbatos #obey me Diavolo #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Lilith #Obey me Headcanons #Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me fic #obey me fic #Obey me! Fic

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

We Both Know

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid is a virgin. Which he is totally fine with! The problem? He still hasn't told his girlfriend, Y/N, for fear of being teased. When he tells her, her reaction is ... surprising, to say the least.

A/N: Season two Spencer. Season two team. Prepare your self for all-knowing Gideon. Fulfilling this request. for @gublergirls. “~” indicates a POV shift.

tags: Dom/sub, unprotected sex, choking, first time, Virgin!Spencer

RATING: EXPLICIT

Words: 7,014

MASTERLIST

Spencer Reid had never done anything remotely sexual before.

Okay, he’d kissed before. Once. In Highschool. On a dare. For half a second.

Okay … so he was pretty inexperienced. Which he didn’t mind at all! The one downside was he was now going steady with a wonderful, amazing girl who he was definitely falling head over heels for, and he had no idea how to tell her.

Luckily, they’d already been working together for about a year before they started dating, which made the shift to a relationship much easier. And them being together didn’t affect their job performance at all. For the most part…. So all Spencer had to do was avoid bringing up his … lack of experience, around her. Things were pretty good.

But things, in Spencer’s experience, had a way of turning sour.

“Hey, Spencer!” she found him standing outside of the elevator after work one Friday, standing up on her tiptoes and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Y/N! We’re at work!” he muttered, glancing around as a light blush formed on his cheeks.

“Nobody’s here! It’s fineeee,” she whined, pulling off his glasses and bringing him down into a real kiss.

Woah. She’d never kissed him like this before. They’d only been dating for a couple of weeks now - though their relationship felt much older— and she’d pretty much only given him chaste kisses with very little tongue.

Not because she didn’t want to! In fact, she had said multiple times that she did, but Reid wanted to take things slow and he’d expressed this to her once they’d started dating. She had told him she respected his boundaries no matter what and she was ready to wait for as long as he needed.

Clearly, though, she was starting to get a little impatient.

“Let’s go home,” she said quietly, pulling him into the elevator, Spencer staying silent the whole way back to her apartment.

He was trying to think of another excuse that was reasonable. She had told him over and over again that they could take things as slowly as he needed. But still, there were scary thoughts lurking deep in his mind that kept telling him to hold back, to keep distance between them.

If he told her he was a … if he told her he’d never had sex before, surely she’d make fun of him. That’s what everyone always did. Would she be any different?

“Spencer?” she took his hand as they entered, very carefully leading him back to her bedroom.

“I, um … I have to finish some paperwork for-”

“Spencer,” she sat on the bed, slowly removing her blouse, revealing a dark red brassiere with a beautiful lace pattern. He unconsciously licked his lips. “I know you wanted to take things slowly, but … maybe we can try something … new tonight? If you want?”

She reached to the front of her bra where the clasp was, snapping it open and letting it fall down her shoulders, Spencer’s eyes feasting on her full breasts.

His shock must have been very apparent on his face because she stood, slowly pulling down her work pants and moving to stand right in front of Spencer, her hands dancing down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

“Is this okay?” she asked, watching him carefully.

His eyes were blown wide and his mouth slightly open. The words froze in his throat, terrified to say anything.

But he hadn’t said yes, so she stopped, waiting for him to answer.

“Spencer?”

“I … I can’t, Y/N.”

“Okay. Can I ask why? You don’t have to answer.”

He backed away, feeling idiotic and ashamed. She’d never want to be with him once she knew….

“I’m…. I’ve never….”

A look of realization glanced over her face, sending a spark of sadness through Spencer’s heart.

“I should go. I’ll see you at work.”

“What?!”

She had reached out, grabbing his arm and holding him back. Spencer sighed.

“You want to end things between us, I understand.”

Surprisingly, she chuckled very softly, pulling him down to sit with her on the bed, sliding her blouse back on.

“Spencer, why would you think I … Do you really think I’d want to end things just because of that?”

“Well… yeah,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing. You deserve someone who can actually make you feel good. I’ve never…. I can’t-I can’t do that.”

“Oh, honey,” she tilted his face up to hers, smiled warmly, and planted a tender kiss right on his lips.

What was she doing? Why wasn’t she laughing and kicking him out?

“Spencer, I don’t care that you’ve never had sex before. I mean, I kind of thought maybe, anyway. You can tell me this kind of stuff, I’m not going to judge you. But, I understand if you aren’t ready. Spencer, I’d wait years for you. And don’t you dare think for a second that you don’t make me feel good!”

The neurons in his brain were firing at a million miles a minute. She really didn’t care? She still wanted to be with him?

“Really?”

“Yeah!” her smile could power every lamp in Washington D.C. “Plus, it’s not like there’s either having sex or not having sex. There’s a lot of in-betweens I’d be happy to work with, if you wanted to, of course.”

“What-um-what do you mean ‘in-betweens’?”

“Well, um … there’s-there’s oral-” Spencer jumped slightly at the word, bouncing the bed, “Or we can just touch each other? There’s so much between kissing and actual penetrative sex. Maybe, tonight, we can just kiss for a while, and if you wanna take things further, let me know, okay?”

Spencer nodded, following her as she pulled him further up the bed so they were lying side by side.

“Can I kiss you?”

He nodded his head and the moment he did, she surged forward, their lips meeting yet again.

God, she tasted so good. Spencer could do this for hours and hours and not go any further. She was intoxicating and he was addicted.

However, his hands moved under her blouse of their own accord, gently sliding up her stomach and hovering over her breast.

“Can I. . . ?”

“Yes,” she whispered in his ear, the sound sending a shock down his body to his groin and he moved his hand to cup her, moaning into her mouth at the feeling.

Unconsciously, his hips jolted forward, making contact with the top of her thigh. A low grunt left his mouth between them and he thrust again, gently grinding against her.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, baby,” she whispered, “Actually, just put … there,” she sighed as she adjusted so that his leg was between hers, now grinding up against her thin panties.

To Spencer’s surprise, and delight, she began moaning and writhing, pushing herself closer to him, throwing a leg around his hips and yanking him against her so their clothed crotches finally met. Simultaneously, they gasped, forming a steady pace of gently grinding against each other.

Emboldened by her sounds, Spencer dipped his head down to the crook of her neck and lightly kissed. At her insistence, he deepened the kisses, starting to suck on the skin, leaving little red patches behind as he went lower.

When he reached right where her stomach stopped, he looked up, asking for permission to continue. She simply nodded, lacing her fingers through his hair and pushing him lower. A plethora of curses and moans left her as he gently licked a stripe up over her panties, thighs tightening around his head.

“Fuck, Spencer,” she groaned, trying to pull him closer and closer with each swipe of his tongue. “Wait, you’ve gotta stop!”

He snapped away, terrified he’d done something wrong but was quickly met with her tongue meandering around his mouth, coaxing moans and gasps from him.

He gently pulled back and moved to the side of her.

“Did I hurt you?”

She laughed, not meanly, not teasingly, but warmly, like he’d said something endearing.

“No, baby. Actually, you made me feel really good. I, um, If you’d have kept going I’m not sure I would have been able to stop.”

“Oh… Well, um, we can-”

“Spencer,” she spoke sternly but with a wide smile on her face. “As much as I’d love to do some horrible, amazing things to you, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to do that tonight, okay?”

Clearly that was the right call, judging by the wave of relief that washed over him when she said it.

“Okay,” and they cuddled up to go to sleep, peacefully slipping into dreams of future possibilities.

Sure, you were surprised when he’d told you, but it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it coming. Countless times on cases, he’d freeze up at the word sex, or opt for a more clinical descriptor such as coitus or intercourse. At first, you assumed it was just to do with his innocent nature. It made sense; he wasn’t the type to go bragging about various conquests after a late night.

But, surely, he must’ve done something before.

I mean, he was twenty-four. The statistics spoke for themselves; for god’s sake, Spencer probably had them memorized.

And even stranger, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. He’d been twelve when he’d graduated high-school. Went to college at fourteen. Probably never really had the opportunity to … befriend … people his own age.

Of course, he didn’t need to worry at all. You weren’t going to judge him one bit. In fact, you were ashamed to admit the prospect might have gotten you the tiniest bit excited.

All the men you’d been with had done it before with countless women, including your very first time. The only serious boyfriend you’d had was the one you hadn’t gotten the chance to sleep with yet. Spencer.

The thing was, if he hadn’t told you, you probably wouldn’t have known. There wouldn’t be any reason to believe the way he’d touched you last weekend wasn’t the millionth time he’d done it. He had moved with such tenacity, such nimbleness. Though there was a sureness, a confidence that was missing from his movements. He wasn’t lying. He’d never had sex.

Actually, that wasn’t what he’d said. He said: I’ve never… and then trailed off.

At work on Monday, as the elevator doors opened, you found yourself wondering to what extent that ‘never’ went.

“Hey, Y/L/N,” Morgan called from the bullpen, holding up a coffee and nodding his head. “It’s got your name on it.”

Thankful for the caffeine, you took the cup and gulped down as much as you could stand. The hot liquid went down your throat smoothly and produced a wonderful placebo effect of instant energy.

“Thanks, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Morgan slapped you on the back and said, “My woman! Who’s the lucky guy?”

Right. Neither you nor Spencer had told the team about the two of you yet. Hotch, of course, was aware, making sure you signed the necessary papers and had you assure him it wouldn’t affect your job performance were things to go south.

But the rest of the team was blissfully ignorant as to the true nature of your close relationship with the good doctor.

“It’s not like that, Morgan. A damn car alarm was going off until two a.m.”

At that moment, Reid walked in gulping down his own beverage, an extra one in his hand, dark circles under his own eyes which remained partially closed as he sat and yawned.

“Woah, looks like Pretty Boy, here, also had something keeping him up all night, though I’m hoping he got a little more action than a car alarm.”

Spencer and you exchanged a worried look. Because, in fact, he had also been kept up by a car alarm, the very same one you had. So he needed to think of another excuse before it became apparent that the two of you had very similar reasons for insomnia.

“No, sadly. Just a bit late because the bus was slow and the fatigue is due to noisy neighbors who were probably getting considerably more quote-unquote action than I. Prentiss,” he handed her the extra coffee cup which she took gratefully. “Got you a latte.”

Suddenly, you felt someone’s eye boring into you. Looking to your left, you saw Gideon looking at you strangely.

Shit. Reid didn’t take the bus anymore, a fact he’d let slip a couple of days ago, prompting lots of questions from Morgan. Surely the Gideon wouldn’t miss a detail like that, being the seasoned profile he was.

Luckily, J.J. was there to save the day.

“We’ve got a case.”

And you were off before Morgan could question why you were able to hear a car alarm from your seventh-floor apartment uptown.

Once in a while, the team got a pretty open and shut case. A rare unsub would come along who was sloppy and left enough clues to have you home within a couple of days.

This wasn’t one of those times.

Spencer, as always, was working hard on the geological profile, mapping out the areas where the unsub had been killing. Normally, the work would have come easy to him; he could work the case like he always did, narrowing it down to a science, a pattern, a formula.

Which would have been easy if not for the fact that his secret girlfriend and partner was wearing the lowest cut tanktop on the planet.

“Hey, can you hand me a pen?”

And as she spoke, he made the mistake of taking his eyes off the map, coming face to face with Y/N, her chest far too on display.

“Huh? Oh! Yeah,” he muttered, handing her the closest pen and gluing his eyes back down to the chart under the guise of inspecting the distance between crime scenes.

“Spence, are you seeing this?”

He looked up again reluctantly, trying to prepare himself for the sight of her.

“Look at the victim’s shoes,” she pointed to the drawing board where the mangled corpses of the first four women.

“Red Adidas, converse all-stars, yellow sandals, and pink Gucci pumps. I don’t understand, those are all very different shoes.”

He turned to her and was surprised to find a shocked smile on her face.

“What?”

Smirking, she said, “Okay, you are explaining why you know so much about women’s shoes later but now,” she yanked the pictures of the shoes off of the board, placing them on the map and leaning over it, her cleavage so exposed Spencer could have looked straight down her top … if he was a creep, which he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He wasn’t!

“Spence! Look at this. Each of the shoes matches the crime scenes, right?”

“Sure, pumps outside a nightclub, Adidas on a hiking trail—”

“Right! But the thing is, they don’t match! The woman found outside the club was wearing sandals. The woman found on the hiking trail had on, guess what—”

“—pumps.”

“He’s switching their shoes!”

He smiled brightly at her, happy they’d finally got a new lead. Sadly, the tight red tank top drew his eyes towards the curve of her breast far too enticingly. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she’d look like splayed out underneath him, writhing like she had last weekend, begging him to fuck her. He wondered why that thought was so enticing.

Oh god, she was looking at him.

“Nice solve, Doctor.”

He glanced away, warmth flooding his cheeks and busying himself with dialing Garcia’s number, quickly spouting off what they’d found and asking her to relay it to the team. When he turned back, Y/N was smirking at his, arms crossed, pressing her breasts together every so subtly.

“Hey, Spence?”

He gulped, struggling to maintain eye contact.

“Yeah?”

She stepped so closely to him, their lips almost touching and Spencer silently thanked the local cops for the private room. When she spoke, her breath ghosted over his neck and her whispers in his ear were enough to cause an uncomfortable growth in his trousers.

“Hand me a pen?”

Motherfucker.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew the effect the tight red top would have on Spencer. What you hadn’t expected, though, was how much he’d let it show.

Every now and then, you’d wear a slightly more … form-fitting … outfit for the sole purpose of messing with him. He’d never really shown much indication that he noticed before…. Until now.

He had ogled you like a teenage boy seeing cleavage for the first time. You swore he licked his lips twice the usual amount.

Had something changed? Was your top too low cut? Oh god, had you gone too far? But he didn’t seem to mind the teasing before. Something had changed.

Oh.

Oh!

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Gideon shooting you a look from where he sat across from you. The plane was dead silent but for the soft whirring of the engine. Most of the team was asleep, Spencer included. You and Gideon were the only ones still awake.

“Sorry,” you muttered, attempting to hide your face in the book you’d been pretending to read.

Gideon didn’t respond but you could feel the intensity of his gaze from behind the hardcover.

Setting your book down, you shot him a very accusing look, shrugging your shoulders.

“What?”

It was the most incriminating word you’d spoken to him in the past ten minutes. You could tell just from the way his eyes narrowed that he was putting two and two together, although you didn’t know what the twos were.

When he finally spoke, it was to say something you’d seen coming from a mile away, though that didn’t make it any less surprising.

“Reid doesn’t take the bus anymore.”

You glanced away, damning yourself even further.

“Oh, yeah, he mentioned that a few days ago. Why?”

For an FBI profiler, you were a shit liar. You knew it and Gideon knew you knew.

There was a very long silence where he simply analyzed you, not in an intrusive way, but as though he was a faraway observer who could read your smallest movements like they were words on a page. His whole birdwatching thing made so much more sense now that you were the one under his gaze.

Gideon was a man of little words, making the ones he chose to speak all the more impactful.

“He’s a gentle soul. Be careful.”

After a moment of floundering, the reality hit you that this wasn’t a man worth trying to fool. Gideon knew. And when Gideon knew, there was no trying to convince him otherwise.

The case had ended amicably, the unsub captured after the fifth casualty but before he could kill the sixth. There was a strange sense of relief, pride, and guilt coursing through Spencer on the way back home.

Falling asleep on the jet helped, but only temporarily. The moment he got home, he jumped in the shower, hoping to wash away any memory of the horrible murders he saw on a daily basis.

The water pressure at Y/N’s place was heavenly. He hoped she didn’t think he just stayed the night so often because of that. Although, her apartment was much nicer than his. She was so nice to let him crash whenever he wanted, and he was always happy to return the favor.

He wondered what other favors she’d return. About this same time last week, he had his head buried between her thighs, licking up her—

Fuck. Now he was hard and he couldn’t bring himself to masturbate in her shower. The irony was too much, even for him. So, like a very sexually repressed gentleman, he turned off the shower and dried himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out into her bedroom.

He really should have jerked off.

Because Y/N was sitting on the far side of the bed, letting her hair fall loose from the bun it had been in for the past few days, kicking off her shoes, and slowly pulling the tight red tank top up and off of her torso, revealing an equally red lace bralette.

He really should have jerked off.

She turned toward him, a smile lighting up her face at his appearance.

“Hey, Spencer. You okay? You look a little … red.” She narrowed her eyes and the word and puffed out her chest ever so slightly. A less experienced profiler may have missed it.

Finally realizing he hadn’t answered her, he grunted, “Yep. I’m okey-dokey. A hundred percent. I’m great!”

He cringed, knowing she’d pick up on the overcompensation.

She, being the awesome profiler and friend she was, did.

“C’mere,” she pat the space on the bed next to her, and Spencer was drawn to it like a magnet. He was a bit worried about the lack of clothes shared between them and the fact that he was sporting a rather persistent half-chub, well hidden under the fluffy white towel. Y/N had the best towels.

“What’s up, Spence?”

She was so perfect. Not perfect as in like, no flaws. But perfect as in, if her flaws could be personified, Spencer would hug and caress each and every one of them. To him, she was a treasure. She was perfectly imperfect.

“I’m okay, really, just … got a lot on my mind.”

She broke eye-contact at that, making Spencer start to think that she understood how he was feeling a lot better than he’d assumed.

“What about you? Are you … okay?”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. Just thinking about something Gideon … well, it wasn’t quite said, you know?”

Spencer chuckled. He knew all too well how a simple look from their mentor could speak volumes.

“Yeah, I know, but … it seems like there’s something more to it?”

She sighed, laying back and resting against the overstuffed pillows, staring up at the popcorn ceiling. Uh oh. Usually, she only did that when she was really troubled.

“Spencer, I need to tell you something. I feel awful because I’m not sure if you’re ready to hear it and I don’t even know if it’s ready to be said. God knows how the hell I’ve waited this long. I’m sorry if this is too much but …”

He froze, heartbeat quickening, and preparing himself for the inevitable bad news-slash-heartbreak. Y/N sat up and stared at him intensely, sending a jolt through him.

“... I love you, Spencer.”

You weren’t sure exactly how he’d take it, but this is pretty much what you’d imagined.

“W-what?”

“Spencer….” you took his hand, lightly stroking the back of it and trying not to pull away at his tension. “I love you.”

Before you could go into a long rant about your feelings, his lips were on yours, followed soon by his body, pinning you down and kissing you with a passion you’d never felt from him before.

But he was off of you just as quick as he’d come, a terrified expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You pulled him back towards you to shut him up, shoving your tongue in his mouth, impatiently deepening the kiss. This time, he didn’t hesitate to let his hands roam your body, lightly trailing up your sides causing you to gasp breathily.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you chuckled softly, “although,” you gently moved his hands down his bare torso, resting on the top of the towel, “you can if you want to.”

His eyes widened and you reached around your back to unclasp your bra, tossing it to the abyss next to the bed.

“W-what?”

“I saw the way you looked at me this week.”

Spencer twitched, breaking eye contact but staying close, unsure of what to say.

“How-how was I looking at you?”

His eyes were glazed over and you could feel his hardness against your thigh, pressing against you with only the towel between you.

“Like you wanted me,” you whispered into his ear, moving a hand under the towel and snaking around his length, slowly moving it back and forth. It was the first time you’d touched him there. At the movement, he dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, cursing lightly.

You wanted to keep going so badly. You wanted to yank the towel off, flip him over and show him how you could make him feel. But you didn’t want to put any pressure whatsoever onto him.

“Listen, Spencer, I meant what I said, okay? We never have to do anything you aren’t a hundred percent sure that you wanna do. We can stop right here if you want. But….” You gently shifted underneath him, slowly sliding your panties down your legs, moving Spencer’s hand to rest right above your entrance. There was a sharp intake of breath above you and you looked up to see his eyes the size of the moon.

“If you want to do this,” you leaned in, gently nibbling his earlobe and whispering as quietly as you could, “I need you to fuck me right now.”

All resolve left in Spencer left him the moment the words escaped her perfectly full lips. His hands flew to hers, lifting them up above her head and pinning them there, delighting in the grunt that left her as their mouths collided yet again. This time, however, Spencer did not pull back.

“Fuck, Spencer!” she yelped, hands running through his hair, pulling him tight against her.

When he finally ran out of breath, he pulled back, leaving just enough space between them to say, “I want to. I’m-I’m ready.”

Her eyes shone with the love she’d declared moment earlier and Spencer’s heart swelled.

“Are you sure?”

Of course she wanted to make sure. She was only the best girlfriend ever. And that’s why Spencer knew he wanted to share himself with her. Spencer wanted her to know how special she was to him. He wanted to feel how special he was to her.

“I’m sure.” Then, not sure what had come over him, he leaned into her ear, voice dropping an octave, and muttered, “I’m ready to fuck you.”

He could have sworn he heard her growl under her breath as she shot right back, “Do it then. Doctor.”

God, something about that title got to him like nothing else. The implied authority that came with it was just too delicious when it rolled off her tongue.

Emboldened by the honorary, he quickly kissed a trail down her chest to her stomach, lightly stroking his tongue everywhere but where she wanted it.

“Mmf—Spencer…. Pleeease!”

His hand snapped over her mouth and she gasped at the sudden silence.

Okay, trust in the fact that Spencer had nooooo idea where what he said next came from.

“You want me to fuck you so bad? Huh? You think begging for it like a cheap fucking whore will make me wanna fuck you? You only get fucked when I say so. Understand me?”

Whatever she said was muffled under his hand which he kindly removed.

“What was that?”

“Yes,” she breathed, hands still where they had been pinned down, staying there only of her own accord. Beautiful.

Reaching one hand up to her breast to lightly play with her nipple, the other went low, gently circling the area around her clit.

“Yes, what?” he said with the most authority in his tone that he could muster.

For a moment it seemed she wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when it hit her, Spencer swore he saw her … you know … twitch.

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a filthy moan, finally moving her hands into his hair, pulling toward her center, begging him to do something— anything.

And, oh, boy did he oblige.

Now, Spencer had never really been anywhere near a woman’s … parts … before. But! He’d read up on this subject plenty in the recent weeks in preparation. In theory, he knew just what to do. In practice ….

“FUCK! Yes, Oh my goooddddd, Spencerrrrr!”

Well, he must’ve been doing something right.

Holy motherfucking jesus fucking fucking christ!

How the fuck was he doing this?

Jolts of pleasure burst through your body with each stroke of his tongue against your clit. Before you could enjoy the small circles he was rubbing there for too long, he slipped a finger inside of you, lightly curling it upward and thrusting in and out, searching for the spot to drive you wild.

Again, how the fuck was he doing this?

The only possible explanation was that he’s secretly had sex a million and ten times, becoming so aware of what exactly drove a woman crazy that he knew exactly how to move between your legs.

But this was Spencer. He didn’t lie to you. So all of … this … was coming naturally to him.

And soon, you’d be too.

“Ah! Spencer, w-where is this c-coming from?”

His lips left you, pulling back just enough to give you a dazzling smile, his chin glistening gloriously.

“I’ve read over ten thousand pages of articles on pleasing a woman in the past week. Studies show that small circular motions of the tongue on the clitoris combined with one or two—”

“Spencer,” you panted, tightly grasping the wrist that was inches from your core, “I love you so much but if you don’t shut up right now—”

“—Hey, you asked.”

And he dove back down, continuing his ministrations, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of pure ecstasy. His tongue was flicking so quickly that you swore you saw stars. Every three or so seconds, a low moan left your throat, along with several curses and deep breaths.

The tension in your stomach was tightening, signifying the oncoming orgasm that was soon to come.

But all too quickly, and all too suddenly, Spencer withdrew, bringing his head back up to kiss you deeply, running his tongue along your lips and moaning onto your mouth as he continued to pump his fingers into you.

“You like this? You like feeling my fingers filling you up?”

“Yes,” you squeaked out, nails dragging down his back as you hoped and prayed he’d give you more. “Yes, please, Spencer….”

A sharp yank of your hair made your head fall back against the pillow, Spencer forcing you to meet his eyes. They were so dark. There was such desire behind them like you’d never seen from him before.

“Yes, what? Huh? Say it.”

You didn’t even need to think about what you were saying; the words sprang from your mouth with no effort at all, attempting any buzzwords that would set him off.

“I want you to fuck me, Spencer. I want to feel you fill me up and fuck me like I’m your little whore. I want you to hold me down while you do it, make me yours. I wanna be yours.”

He grunted, absentmindedly thrusting against your thigh as he listened to your words. When he spoke, you expected him to speak with the same commanding tone he’d been using, but were surprised to hear the familiar soft voice of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” he met your eyes, slightly frowning, “Is this okay? I mean … do you really want that?”

You didn’t even need to attempt to give him a reassuring smile; one came naturally.

“Of course, Spence. I want you. I’ll always want you.” Then, at his hesitation: “Do you want to take things slower? We can take a step back, just say the word.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, softly bringing his mind back to the present moment from where it had no doubt been drifting in waves of worry.

“I’m ready. I am ready. I want you,” he said, so gently, so sweetly that you knew with all of your being that he meant it.

More importantly, you know what else he meant. He wasn’t ready to say it yet, and you were fine with that. Besides, he probably knew that you knew. And if you both knew, why would he need to say it?

“Okay. Let’s go slow, okay?”

He nodded, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. It must’ve finally dawned on him that this was really happening.

“Now, I got tested a few weeks ago and everything came back negative. I’m on hormonal birth control and have been for a while now. There are condoms in the drawer there, but it’s totally up to you. I’m comfortable with whatever you are.”

You could see the gears in his mind turning. In true Spencer Reid fashion, he was weighing the risks and rewards. You expected him to want to use a condom, which was totally fine and made sense with how responsible he was. But you selfishly wanted to know what he felt like skin to skin inside of you.

Which is why it was such a surprise when he said—

“Let’s do it without.”

“Wait, really?”

He nodded, drawing small patterns on your stomach absentmindedly with one hand, the other stroking your hair.

“We’re both clean, little to no pregnancy risk. Plus I … I’d like to know how … um.”

“How it feels?” you offered.

He sighed, relieved to not have to say it.

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Yes! Yes, Spencer. That’s kind of what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Really?”

You nodded this time, bringing him in for a soft kiss, keeping it rather chaste as you slowly slipped a hand down, guiding his member to your entrance, delighting in the gasp he let slip as you positioned him.

Slowly, keeping your mouth against his, you used his cock to gently spread you open, pressing the head just against your core. Above you, he was practically vibrating with the effort of holding back.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Hooking your legs around his back, you withdrew your hand and clenched your legs, slowly pulling him into you.

Both of you moaned simultaneously at the feeling, Spencer’s face falling into an open expression of pure ecstasy.

“Oh my god,” he groaned once he was completely sheathed within you. The feeling of him, bare, inside of you was so much to comprehend. You could tell he was probably thinking the same thing. Actually, it looked like all his effort was going into staying still, waiting for you to get accustomed to his size.

You’d told him that you’d never been with someone who was nearly as … well-endowed as he. He must have really taken those words to heart.

“Can I-can I move now?” he muttered, clearly straining to stay still.

“Yes.”

The moment you said it, he pulled back, grunting in your ear at the feeling and slowly slid back in, gasping when he bottomed out.

“Oh god, Y/N….”

“Please, Spencer.” You yanked him back by the hair so he could see your eyes, see how seriously you meant what you were about to say. “Fuck me.”

One of the many things you loved about Spencer: he always listened to you. Sometimes, to a fault.

Because the instant you asked, he delivered, pounding into you so hard that stars exploded in your eyes with each thrust. His hands dug so hard into your legs you were sure they’d leave bruises. With each thrust, his hipbones made sharp contact with your inner thighs and you grunted at the pain.

He started to hesitate, clearly clocking the pained expression on your face.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No! Please— oh god— don’t fucking stop, Spencer.”

His hands were everywhere all at once, pulling your hair, grasping your neck, your chest, your legs. Every time he pulled out of you, he would hesitate for a half-second, just enough to make you think he was done, then he’d fuck back into you, driving you further up the bed with each thrust.

You would have been moaning louder if you weren’t so scared of missing a single word he was saying.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good. It’s really-it’s really tight.”

Laughing breathily in his ear, you said, “Yeah, well. That happens when it’s been a while.” Small moans broke through as he increased pace, hands slipping around your waist, pulling you down roughly onto him with each thrust. Your hips bumped together roughly every time, connecting painfully, wonderfully.

“Oh yeah?” Spencer lifted one of your legs up over his shoulder, driving much deeper now. “Maybe your tight little cunt just isn’t used to getting fucked properly. Tell me, did the guys you were with before fuck you like this?”

Not able to bring yourself to speak, he pulled out completely and placed a solid hand around your throat, barely cutting off the circulation.

“Answer me, now!”

“No! Uhn— Spencer…. No, I’ve never been fucked like this. You’re so … mmm…. so big!”

He reentered you sharply at the last word, continuing the hard pounding only this time, moving a hand to roughly circle your clit unrelentingly.

“Fuck!”

His other hand was digging into your ass and his thrusts were starting to falter.

“Y/N … I’m not sure how much … how much longer I can …”

So lost in the pure bliss he was giving you, you barely were able to process what he’d said. When you did, you made sure to reassure him.

“Do it, come with me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I-I lo—”

You placed a finger on his mouth, such a gentle gesture compared to the way he was pounding into you below that his eyes snapped open, locking with yours.

All you did was smile at him, an expression filled with as much energy as you could spare right now. A slight nod told him all he needed to know and he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t need to say it right now. You knew and he knew, anyway.

He stroked you twice more before you burst, suddenly so overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside you as your insides clenched around him. He felt so much bigger as you came and after a few more thrusts, you felt a warm sensation fill you up as he yelped softly above you.

You both came down from the high so slowly, eyes locked and breathing heavily.

Surprisingly, he didn’t collapse onto you as had happened with so many other men. He was using all his remaining strength to stay perfectly still above you, staring into your eyes with a shocked expression on his face.

Finally, he shook out of it, pupils contracting and gently pulling out, both of you groaning at the feeling.

Laying down next to you, it was a full minute before either of you spoke.

“Wow.”

“Hah. Yeah.”

You turned to him and he did the same, an adorable smile gracing his face.

“So? How was it? Everything you expected?”

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes momentarily before answering.

“Words aren’t usually lost on me. I always seem to know what to say even in the most ineffable of times. That…. That was indescribable.”

You weren’t sure how much more praise you could take; your heart was already so full and the more he filled it, the more you felt like you were about to burst.

“You can say that again. I must say I’m rather ... surprised. No offense! I promise! But, well, for a virgin you sure as hell don’t fuck like one.”

He smiled doofily, placing a hand on your cheek and stroking the skin under your eye, his expression shifting to one of worry.

“You’re crying….”

You pulled away, quickly wiping your eyes.

“Sorry…. That… that happens sometimes.”

“Hey,” he pulled you back to him, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Don’t ever apologize. It actually means that there are very strong feelings between us. In fact, it’s referred to as postcoital dysphoria and is normally caused by a particularly powerful orgasm. It’s a way of your body releasing the pent up feelings.”

Spencer Reid somehow found a way to be adorable while talking scientifically about orgasms and crying. What the hell did you do to deserve this man? You loved him so much and you’d spend the rest of your life proving it to him without hesitation. He didn’t even need to say it back.

But, as always, Spencer couldn’t seem to stop surprising you.

“Y/N … I love you.”

The tears came quicker now and soft sobs left your chest. He pulled you against him, you tucking your head under his chin and smiling at the speed his arms found their way around you.

“I know,” you muttered into his chest, feeling him smile above you.

“We just had sex, I told you I loved you, and you’re quoting Star Wars?”

You pulled back to beam up at him.

“Is that not the reason you love me?”

He smiled down at you, his nose scrunching up ever so slightly as it always did when he was happy.

“One of the many. Another very new one being added to the memory banks after tonight,” he grinned, tapping the side of his head.

“Oh yeah? You love me ‘cause of the way I let you fuck me like a little whore?” you muttered in a low voice, wiggling your eyebrows as his face fell.

“Y-yeah….” he was breathless again, watching you intently.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you said the very thing you knew that he knew he wanted you to.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

And he climbed back on top of you, attaching his lips to yours and kissing you with a whole new passion.

Because he loved you and you loved him. And you both knew it. And that made it all worth it.

TAGLIST

@whollytaciturn @101donuts @thegingerfairchild @safertokiss @happyiidiot @cielo1984 @thupidalethea @darkacademiacherry @matthewreid @aloha-ashley-taylor @justchiara-02 @spnobsessedmemes @sweet-darlin @matthewreid @brokenanxiety @thatsonezesty13 @psychedellic-phase @beautifulalmondstudentduck @awhollandx @baddreamsandbrokenhearts @simp-for-mgg @swagdaddycam @gejatume @url-under-construction @radkryptonitepeanut @idontneedalltheseemotions @krymson182

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

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ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Text

Let me make you go down in history

Chapter 2

Simon watches him sleep again, thinking about their conversation last night. They never openly talk about the one talk that started all of the ones that followed, they just continue living their lives like months hadn't passed in between.

He thinks about when Wilhelm told him he loved Simon, and he didn’t say it back even though he felt it, very much so. He thinks about the texts Wilhelm sent him late at night after the first talk, outside his home before the holidays.

I want you

I WANT YOU

That’s what I want, Simon

And it felt overwhelmingly horrible because he found himself in that moment knowing Wilhelm so well he could read the hurt in those words, that Simon told him to figure out what he wanted like it wasn’t obvious, and that Wilhelm was hurt that Simon doubted him, even if for a second. He meant his words but maybe he wasn’t good at expressing them properly to Wilhelm. Simon doesn’t doubt his feelings, or how hard the whole situation is, your life suddenly changing upside down and then all over again in the space of weeks, between them meeting and Eric dying.

He didn’t reply to those texts either. They didn’t talk for almost three whole weeks. Simon was the one to give in, to check on Wilhelm, and it took him almost a whole day to get an answer.

He could still feel that Wilhelm was hurt by what he had told him the last time they met, but he could also tell Wilhelm was upset to be home, to be right in the middle of the reality he didn’t want to live, that he tried so hard to avoid but it wasn’t really his choice to make. He felt so cold, and tired, even through text, after the long wait to get any answers when Wilhelm was always so quick to answer when they were good.

Last night, while they were lying in the dark, right next to each other, still with barely to no touch or intimacy, Wilhelm said, “I’m not living the life I want. I don’t have any power to choose either. And it hurts me to think the only person that truly knows me thinks I’m choosing to not be with them.”

Simon moved to really look at Wilhelm but he kept looking up, like he was just voicing his thoughts to himself, and not to Simon right there. One of his arms underneath his head, and the other one just carelessly playing with his hair, getting very long at the top.

“Your friends don’t even know you like me. They know we had sex, that there’s a fucking...stupid sex tape out there. All the drama, and the shit. But they don’t know we were actually falling in love, that I wasn’t just...a guy that you were hooking up with.”

Simon knew Wilhelm meant his words, that he was being serious but it’s hard to take him serious when Simon thinks about how he’s the crown prince, the sweetest boy he’s ever met, and how what worries him is that Simon’s friends think they’re a random hook up, and nothing else.

“What?” Wilhelm propped himself on one elbow, a little bit of his worry being forgotten in the back of his mind, smiling at Simon. “What are you laughing about? I’m serious, Simon!”

“I know! I know!” He tried to stop laughing, taking deep breaths in, “It’s just that you have...so many other things to worry about.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Wilhelm…” Simon held himself back from telling Wilhelm about how he’s about to become a king, taking care of so many strangers he doesn’t even know, a whole nation, countless different realities he has absolutely no idea about. He didn’t have to say it then and he doubts he’ll ever have to do it.

Simon knows it by being around Wilhelm, by watching every action being thought through over and over again, every word that Wilhelm holds himself back from saying, he knows that Wille is aware of how much responsibility he carries, liking it or not.

“You are the love of my life.”

Simon feels his mouth dry just thinking about it again, how speechless he was, looking at Wilhelm that seemed so calm and certain, like that was a natural conclusion he came to on the spot, finally turning to look straight at Simon.

They’re still so young. But he knows what Wilhelm was talking about, the feeling at least, that this is not something everyone has the opportunity to feel, especially not this young. Some people might live their whole lives without experiencing what they feel when they’re together.

"I really like you. And your smell..." Wilhelm moved slowly from his back to his stomach, half lying on top of Simon, gently nuzzling against his neck, breathing so slow it made Simon's skin go rough, and sensitive.

"And your taste..." He kissed Simon's neck, making him close his mouth, pressing his lips tightly together to not make a single noise that he knows he can do.

"Wille..."

Wilhelm purred in response, and Simon tried to breathe normally, putting his hand on the back of Wilhelm's neck, squeezing to ground himself, holding himself back from giving in, finally kissing Wilhelm.

"Stop..."

He did as he was told, and looked at Simon, with his messy hair, bright red cheeks, and sad eyes, clearly sad that Simon is still very much trying to keep their close friendship just a friendship.

He moved back, avoiding meeting Simon's eyes, lying back in bed, looking up at the boring, white ceiling.

“Sorry…”

Wilhelm lifted his hips up to turn, moving heavily to lie on his other side, his back to Simon, his arms crossed awkwardly over his chest, and Simon snuggled closer, putting his arms around Wilhelm’s waist, burying his nose against his back, holding his hands when Wilhelm adjusted his position to hold his hands.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Never.” Simons squeezed his hands, kissing his back. “I’ll never leave you, Wilhelm.”

“I’m doing things on your terms.”

Simons smiled, closing his eyes, pushing his face against Wilhelm’s back.

He’s so perfect, still asleep in the same position they were last night. And it’s so hard not to be with him completely.

Wilhelm listens to Simon like very few could even try, and Simon is amazed that he’s real, and that he likes Simon, having the whole world on his feet, Wilhelm likes Simon.

Wilhelm opens his hands suddenly in his still half asleep haze, and their fingers intertwine again, and it doesn’t take long until they fall asleep holding each other tight again. Simon wishes he was even more present to hold Wilhelm tighter if he knew what would come after.

The holiday weeks away from each other felt shorter than the months that came after that night. Looking back now, Wilhelm’s words now feel like a warning. Simon never really wanted them to be apart, he just needed Wilhelm to understand life doesn’t go as he wants and when he wants it, at his pace, that Simon would just sit quietly, and accept half a person because he’s sure he deserves better.

Wille needs the time, and the space to focus on himself. Or at least Simon thought he could understand all of that while still being around, as a friend, his best friend. Simon said Wilhelm needed to figure out what he wanted because it would be easier if they kept some distance between them. Wilhelm had a lot going on, and Simon didn’t want to be in his way, holding him back - or himself back - in any way.

So Wilhelm found a way to keep himself busy and distant. Or studying, or with his bodyguards working out very early in the morning, or with the boys, his friends that slowly filled some of the space Simon had left.

They still talked, it seems impossible for them to be completely away from each other, but Wilhelm was distant, like he didn’t want to get too close, afraid to cross Simon’s limits or to get too close and not be able to hold himself back.

Even from afar, Simon knew Wilhelm wasn’t doing as good as he pretended to be doing. His nails were so short, the corners of his fingers were always bruised. While in class, he kept tapping his feet, taking too many long breaths, trying to calm himself.

Simon thought about reaching out, just hugging him to see if it would help, but he held himself back. He was the one that said Wilhelm needed to figure things out, that things weren’t going to be as Wilhelm wanted...

Months went by filled with the growing anxiety in both of them, and with that, Simon started to lose his mind slowly with the lack of Wilhelm, of talking to him, of just being close to him with nobody else around, making sure he was okay. He missed how they were around each other, how he felt when he was in constant contact with Wilhelm, being themselves, he missed kissing him…

To Wille: hey

He texts him late at night again, feeling stupid for how anxious he gets, how his eyes start to water with frustation, and anger, and the overwhelming yearning.

To Simon: hi

To Wille: are you busy?

The bubbles appear, and disappear and Simon rolls his eyes, feeling like throwing his phone against the nearest wall.

To Simon: no haha

It’s late, I’m in bed.

Why?

Did something happen?

Simon shakes his head, closing his eyes not to cry. Fuck it, he thinks as he types quickly.

To Wille: I miss you

Can we meet?

He keeps checking but he never gets a text back. Simon drops his phone on his bed and gets up, walking around in stupidly small circles because he’s staying at school this year after all. He couldn’t let his sister stay here alone, and she was happy to find her magical way to put him inside too.

Wilhelm is too good of a listener, too polite and good to disobey any order, ever. This is Simon’s worst nightmare and exactly what he asked Wilhelm to do, doesn’t matter if the scenario helps him or not. It means Wille will follow his mom’s requests or Simon’s because that’s who he is. Too good at following orders.

Suddenly, three knocks on his door, and Simon jumps, looking at the door. He exhales a smile, rushing until he’s holding the doorknob, trying to calm himself. He opens the door carefully and Wille is there, hands deep inside his pockets, his shoulders up high, one bodyguard right behind him.

Simon exhales, standing to the side, and Wilhelm gets inside, holding the door for himself, closing and locking it behind him. Simon walks to his nightstand, leaning against it, holding the edge tightly, looking at Wilhelm and nobody else. They’re finally alone, and Wilhelm is bare, like Simon is used to seeing him, no walls around him, the thick walls he builds filled with small, quiet answers, with people around them to keep them from giving in.

His eyes are soft again, filled with expectations, and he adjusts his hair behind his ears like he does when he’s nervous, Simon is surprised he’s not biting his nails too.

“I’m really tired of my terms…” Simon exhales shakingly, “Like...really tired.”

He crashes into Wilhelm before he can think twice, holding his face in his hands, kissing him like he’s been thinking for months, and Wilhelm holds him right back. His hands feel cold even through the thin fabric of Simon’s shirt, squeezing his waist tightly, stumbling back, trying to find the bed.

“No video game today?” Wille asks against his lips, smiling so bright. Simon shakes his head, quick to take Wille’s shirt off, pushing him to sit on the bed.

#young royals #young royals netflix #prince wilhelm #wilhelm #wilhelm x simon #simon #simon young royals #wilhelm young royals

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ambivalent-anarchy · 4 years

Text

No-one

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

Based on a true story. Just wanted to write something relatable for myself lol and anybody else that's gone through what the reader's going through also wtf it's already thanksgiving break? that's wild

Summary: Peter finds out something about his crush that might totally change the game for him

---------------------------------------

"Dare," Ned said, a smile creeping onto his face as the rest of the bus stared at him.

"Okay," you said, looking around for inspiration. "I dare you to..." You tilted your head to the front with a smirk."-go sniff Mr. Harrington's armpit then come back and tell us how he smells," you said, earning some laughs and a disturbed face from MJ.

Ned shuddered slightly, looking to his friend Peter for support. Peter simply shrugged, barely able to hold in his laughter from the frivolous dare.

The entire back of the bus turned to watch as Ned slowly stood up and made his way to the front seat where Mr. Harrington sat, cursing himself out under his breath the whole way there. "Uh, hi Mr. Harrington!"

"Hey there Ned!," Mr. Harrington greeted, but quickly ran himself into a fit of worries, standing up to check the back of the bus. "Why're you up here? What's wrong?"

"Nothing!," Ned yelled, trying to get him to sit back down. "I just... kinda really want to hear about your wife!" Ned looked back to see the entire bus giving him frantic thumbs up.

"Oh," Mr. Harrington said, sitting back down with a blank look on his face. "Well, did I tell you how she set every piece of clothing I bought her on fire and sent me a video of it?" He leaned over a bit as he reached down his pockets to pull out his phone. "I'll show you."

Panicked disgust transformed Ned's face. '1...2...3!' He sucked in a deep breath before practically plunging himself into his teacher's arm.

"Jesus Christ!," Mr. Harrington yelled in shock at being practically tackled by a kid. "What are you doing Leeds?!"

Ned backed up immediately after, face deep red. "Um, I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I LEFT SOMETHING BACK THERE! BYE-!"

The bus erupted with laughter and applause as Ned sprinted back to the back of the bus, leaving a confused Mr. Harrington behind him.

"He smells like cheap cologne," he coughed, his head still reeling. "Cheap cologne covering up a week of no showering..."

"MJ, truth or dare?," Flash asked after the commotion had died down.

"Truth," MJ mumbled, her eyes never leaving her phone.

Flash leaned over till he was practically halfway in Michelle's seat. "Who are the top five hottest guys in our class? Rank 'em." He tilted his ear towards her, obviously expecting to hear his name first.

In response, MJ simply smirked and brought her free hand up to count it off.

"Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, and nobody," MJ answered with a shrug, earning multiple groans from many boys on the bus.

"That's not acceptable!," Ned exclaimed.

Brad nodded. "Yeah give us a real answer, Michelle."

MJ scoffed, scrolling higher on her phone. "That's the answer I gave you. Therefore, it's acceptable."

You grinned, shaking your head at MJ. "Can't argue with that logic," you said with a shrug.

It was hilarious to see the boys and their little egos, desperate to hear that Michelle Jones, of all people, thought they were hot.

"Well what about you, [Y/N]?," Brad asked, directing his attention to you.

You raised your eyebrows as nearly all of the boys in the bus turned to you with desperate or curious faces. "What about me?," you asked with a smirk.

"C'mon, who's your top five?," Ned questioned.

You placed your hands over your cheeks. "What and help you little lost boys' fragile male egos?," she teased. "Yeah, no thanks."

The boys groaned.

Peter looked over the seat to where you were sitting. He watched as you held your head up, satisfied at the frustration you were causing the guys. Could he? Should he? Ya know what, screw it.

"Well then, truth or dare [Y/N]?," he squeaked, his hands already shaking.

Your eyes flickered over to Peter curiously. "Um, dare, Pete."

He breathed in deep, face immediately turning red from seeing the entire bus looking at him. "I dare you to tell everyone your crush!," he rushed out. "A-and don't lie!"

But then everyone turned towards you with questions and assumptions and guilt quickly fell onto Peter's shoulders. He couldn't make you say that to everyone. How would he feel if someone did that to him? "Wait, nah no no nevermind, I was just fooling around you don't actually have to-!"

Flash spoke over him. "Yeah [Y/N], who's the lucky guy?"

Abe laughed. "C'mon, spill."

Peter hecticly turned and sat back down in his seat, Ned quick to turn with him.

"Dude, I can't believe you just said that!," Ned whisper-shouted with a large grin.

"I can't believe I just said that!," Peter repeated in a gasp, frozen and staring at the back of the seat in front of him in horror.

"Why did you ask her that?!"

"Why did I really just ask her that?"

Ned gasped dramatically. "Oh my gosh do you think she'll say you?!"

"Oh my God what if she says me?!," Peter reeled.

"No-one. I've never had a crush."

Peter's eyes went wide before he turned back around onto his knees in his seat.

"Wait, seriously?!"

"B.S.!"

"Total lie!"

"I smell cap."

The other guys were obviously not putting up with that answer.

Ned frowned. "Like foreal? You've never had a crush? Like ever? In your entire life?"

Peter however, was still trying to process what he'd just heard.

"No-one."

No.

One.

It's not like he expected you to like him back- a part of him sort of wished for it but he knew that was unlikely- but no chance? None at all?

Suddenly you'd become the new focus for every boy on the bus.

"Seriously, who was your last crush?," Brad asked.

You stared for a while. "Do celebrities count?"

"No."

"Oh, then no-one."

Flash stood up. "How does that even work? Are you ace or something?," he asked, right before getting smacked in the head by Abe.

"You can't just ask people that stuff, Flash!"

Flash shrugged. "Yeah I know...but like-" he wiggled his eyebrows. "-are you?"

You groaned and laid back in your seat, already growing tired of this little 'interrogation' the boys were having. "No. I like guys, okay? I've seen enough to know that much at least" You shrugged. "I've just never liked any guy I've met before."

Millions of questions roamed through Peter's head.

Were you lying? Did you just have high standards that no one you'd been around had ever met? What was keeping you from liking people?

He wasn't some big hot-shot lady killer. There was no way he could be your first crush. That's just narcissistic to even think about. Peter had grown to become quite content with not being the guy who just reeled in girls.

He peeked back over the bus seat at all of the boys surrounding you, obnoxiously attempting to show themselves off.

Brad lifted his sleeves and flexed his biceps. "[Y/N], I mean, c'mon. Can't resist the gun show, right? This does nothing for you?"

That one made you laugh. "You guys really aren't as attractive as you think you are!"

Peter groaned for what must've been the tenth time that morning. And the worst part? He couldn't even be mad.

"So, like never? Never in your life?," Flash asked.

Betty chimed in as well. "Not even that 'puppy love' phase we all had in middle school?"

You shook your head. "Why are you all so invested in who I haven't liked anyway?"

"Okay okay," Brad said. "So if you were gonna like someone, who would you like?"

MJ bursts out laughing and you rolled your eyes. "That is literally the dumbest question I've ever been asked in my entire life. I just said I've never-"

MJ nudged you and tilted her head to one of the seats furthest from yours. Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were sitting there, Ned watching the commotion intensely while Peter was seemingly knocking his head into the back of the seat in front of him repeatedly. Poor guy.

You knew he had a crush on you. You could at least do him this one little favor.

You grinned. "Peter."

"Peter?!"

'What?!"

"Parker?! Are you serious?"

"Awww."

Peter looked up frantically. "Um.. okay..why?"

"Yeah, that needs an explanation [Y/N]," Flash sneered, suddenly losing interest when his name wasn't called.

You shrugged and looked at the nerdy boy. "I like his rosy cheeks," you laughed before looking back at your phone. "Plus, he minds his own business, unlike other people."

The school bus filled, half with sounds of disinterest and the other half with sounds of amusement.

"Now can we go back to actually playing the game now? Jesus..."

The game of Truth or Dare continued and you couldn't have been more glad that the guys' interrogation was finally over. But then you got a text on your phone.

MJ: look at parker

Looking over you saw Ned shaking the boy as he simply just stared out of the window with a dumb look of glee in his face. "Dude, snap out of it! We still have a competition to go to, where's your brain gone?"

Ned turned to you with a frown. "[Y/N]...I think you broke him."

Tagging mutuals: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil l, @yumings, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @tommyunderoos, @chaoticpete, @spidey-reids-2003, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky, @kelieah

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ad1thi · 4 years

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@starklysteve rhae asked for some winteriron recs (read: i volunteered to spam rhae w buckytony fics because i adore them), so in no particular order, and based on my memory alone, here are some of my favourite buckytony fics!!

(please remember to leave kudos and comments!!)

American Memorial: @/spqr

“Pick up the shield,” Tony said. Understandably, Bucky told him to go fuck himself

Losing You (Is My Supervillain Origin Story): @amethystinawrites

There are a lot of things that Bucky regrets. The list is, quite frankly, longer than he can handle on most days and, right at the very top, is lying to Tony about who killed his parents. Bucky has known even from before they started dating, but he simply can't bring himself to say anything — to ruin one of the few good things he has in his life. It's selfish and wrong, but Bucky just doesn't know how to tell Tony that he is the one responsible for Howard and Maria Stark's deaths.

So when he starts receiving anonymous emails, threatening to expose the truth to Tony and the rest of the world, Bucky is desperate enough to agree to the blackmailer's terms, even if it means breaking up with Tony. Bucky cannot, under any circumstances, let Tony find out about his parents from anyone but Bucky himself.

Too late Bucky realizes that there is much more to the blackmailer's scheme than just having Bucky break Tony's heart. Too late Bucky realizes that despite his best intentions, he will still end up losing everything — in a much more permanent way than he could ever have imagined.

Hindsight: @amethystinawrites

Ever since he was a little boy, Bucky has dreamed of becoming an astronaut together with Steve, and he can hardly believe their luck when both of them are picked for the Ares 3 crew — the third expedition sent to explore Mars. It is, quite literally, a dream come true.

Things get complicated when Bucky finds himself inconveniently attracted to their mechanical engineer, however. Tony Stark is funny, competent, and absolutely captivating, but considering NASA's strict non-fraternization policy, Bucky knows it's better to keep his interest to himself — at least until they return to Earth. He can wait.

Not once does Bucky consider the possibility that all of them might not make it back alive, or just how much he'll come to regret not acting when he had the chance.

Arsenal: @tangodancer91 (part of a series) (also my all time favourite buckytony series ever)

Two years after the Civil War that tore apart everything she’d bled to build, Toni Stark sacrificed herself for her newly-reinstated teammates and ended up stranded in the past. Freed of her name, her fortune, and her hostile ex-teammates, she built herself a life as an agent for the OSS, the American secret service, and, having nothing to lose, accepted a mission to infiltrate the newest player in the war: an organization that call themselves HYDRA.

Then, she met a young draftee with a dreadfully familiar face, and they clicked like she had never clicked with anyone before. By the time she realized she’d fallen for the man who’d cost her everything, it was too late, but she’d always been an all or nothing type of girl, and if she was damning herself, well then…might as well go all the way.

Yield: @aurumacadicus (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

All Bucky has ever wanted was to win the contest for Tony's hand in marriage. It's a bit harder now that he's down to one arm, but luckily his friends are willing to help make up the difference.

Barnes Family Motors Inc: @phlintandsteel-ao3 (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

In a world where alphas legally own omegas, Bucky is just a small time mechanic from Brooklyn who gets lucky in a poker game. Tony is an omega whose life is fraught with abuse, until his luck suddenly takes a turn for the better.

In the grand scheme of things they may only be able to make little differences in the lives of those around them, but that doesn't mean it's not worth making them. After all, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

The Long Con (don’t kid yourself): @phlintandsteel-ao3

When Tony finds out that Howard is thinking about changing the terms of Tony’s trust fund, he embarks on a not-so-elaborate scheme to prove that he’s totally settling down and not in continued need of Howard’s “guidance” until 25 instead of 21. Step 1: Get a fiance Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit (Finally be free of Howard)

Unfortunately, Tony Stark is the worst con-artist ever, and may only be kidding himself..

Hot Mess: @/niki

“Would serve him right if we had the world's most ill-advised one night stand.”

Imperceptions and Assumptions: @/NarutoRox

Afterward, Bucky would look back on their first meeting with fondness and a healthy dose of amusement. At the time, though, he’d mostly been confused - and more than a little embarrassed.

Bucky hadn’t paid much attention to the media in his early days, and hadn’t bothered really reading up on the team or anything, either, so when Steve had said ‘Tony Stark’, Bucky had just assumed.

The same way he’d looked at the three people who’d walked through the door - an imposing redhead in heels, a bored-looking brunette who dimpled when she saw him and Steve, and a sturdy-looking man wearing a slight glower - locked eyes on the man, and assumed him to be the infamous Tony Stark Steve wouldn’t shut up about.

It was Bucky’s first lesson when it came to Natasha Antonia ‘Toni’ Stark - never assume.

In which Tony Stark is actually Natasha Antonia 'Toni' Stark (which everyone knows) as well as Iron Man (which everyone does not know), assumptions are made, and there are misunderstandings.

From this prompt: How about a cross between my two favorite tropes? Nobody knows who iron man is other than Natasha/Antonia Stark's bodyguard but Bucky is in love with one or both of them

i know, you know (that i’m not telling the truth) : @imposter-human

psychic tony stark is called to work a routine case with detective bucky barnes; only, he seems to be more connected to the case than anyone thought

or, a psych au!!

the new romeo and juliet: @imposter-human

Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

if found, please return to: @capnshellhead

Tony Stark shows up at Bucky's bar after a really tough break up and Bucky decides to look after him

gods of carnage: @deathsweetqueen (part of a series)

On May 29, 1970, the Winter Soldier feels a burning sensation and looks down at his wrist to find a single name written in enduring ink: Antonia Margaret Stark.

HYDRA, fearing the defiance of their greatest asset due to a bond that cannot and will not be denied its due, immediately dispatches the Soldier, to locate, collect and deliver this newborn girl to HYDRA, which will become her new home, her new family and her entire world - to be raised as another one of HYDRA’s great warriors: their Engineer.

But the Engineer is a faulty asset. She thinks things that may get her killed one day. She wants things that she shouldn’t, that are not hers to want. She has a mind and body that belong more to herself than any handler, than any commander she may have.

And if she cuts her strings, when she cuts her strings, well, when you put sheep next to wolves, you ask for a bloodbath.

where i walk, you follow (where i burn, you burn): @deathsweetqueen

At his father's command, Anthony Stark trades in his northern keep for a southern crown, wedded and bedded by Alexander of House Pierce, First of His Name.

Tony does his duty, becomes a wolf in name only, toothless and clawless, and a dark, gleaming ornament for the King, even if he would make himself a widower a hundred times over.

Honour demanded it of him, and so he did.

But it is Ser James Barnes, named the Kingslayer for his sins during the Rebellion, that draws his eye, gives him comfort in this pit of liars and monsters

So, what is honour compared to a good man's love? They are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.

[Fic by deathsweetqueen, Art by MassiveSpaceWren]

Cat Parenting (And Other Meet Cutes): @singingwithoutwords (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Of all the ways Bucky could have finally gotten a chance to speak to his crush, why did it have to be his cat getting Tony's cat pregnant?

Codename Heartbreaker: @rinnwrites (part of a series)

Today was a day that, contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark had most certainly not been looking forward to. It was election day, or election night, rather, and the polls were closed, the results were in; Howard Stark was the next President of the United States of America.

Tony Stark Bingo - R3: Election Day

Fate Strings Not Required: @akira-of-the-twilight

“Hey doll,” a new voice said from Tony’s side.

Tony glanced at the person approaching.

Someone was working the rugged, bad boy look. The new guy rocked a leather jacket and blue jeans.

His blue eyes lit up with joy as he approached Tony. “Something wrong here?” The new guy gave the first guy--the one insisting he was Tony's soul mate--a once over then turned his full attention on Tony. “You’re looking a little stressed, anything I can do?”

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Siren’s Treasure: @akira-of-the-twilight

Prompt: I really love the idea of playboy!Bucky flirt of the seven seas first-mate to Captain Rogers, falling completely overboard in love with our Blacksmith-Inventor Inexperienced!Tony who goes from confident captive to shy woe-begone man in the presence of Bucky's fierce affections. Virgin!Tony wonders what a siren like Bucky could possibly want with him. Bucky wants to know what the fuck Logan thinks he's doing flirting with the man who stole his heart like sunken treasures. Happy ending please?

“Sirens killed your crew?” Steve repeated.

The dark haired man nodded. Just an hour ago the Avenger crew had found the man clinging to driftwood in the middle of the ocean. Now he clutched the flask of rum Bucky had given him like it was all that kept him buoyant during these tumultuous times.

The man—Tony—had already downed more than half the flask and was still sober. “Not exactly my crew, but close enough. Yeah.” Tony uncapped the flask and threw back a mouthful.

Steve frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t captain of the ship.”

“So what were you?” Steve pressed.

Road hazards: @riotwritesthings

Steve and Bucky's BFF road trip is not going well. For starters, Steve couldn't even make it, and for some bizarre reason asked Tony to take his place. The fact that it’s only a couple days before someone is trying to kill them isn’t nearly as stressful as the fact that Bucky and Tony have never really had an actual conversation.

It’s hard to avoid someone when stuck in a car with them though, and if they manage to stay alive they just might learn a thing or two.

Once Upon a Wintertime: @iam93percentstardust (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes.

little bird: @thxngam

Bucky laughs, and it’s loud and unbidden, a way he hadn’t laughed for years before, tugging his giggling omega into his lap. Tony quiets and nestles into Bucky’s chest like he was made to belong there, and Bucky has noticed several times that Tony is much smaller than he is, but he never quite noticed how Tony always seemed to curl into him as a reason for his size.

Tony nestles like a little bird.

Teenage Dream: @anthonyed

Tony Stark develops a crush on the school's bad boy who is too cool to hang out with anyone. At least, it's what Tony thinks. He never considered that James Barnes is probably as lonely as he is.

(in the process of editing)

The Best Laid Plans (of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

A Kitten and a Soldier: @/ThatDamnKennedyKid

Bucky hadn't heard from Rumlow in years - since the whole Winter Soldier fiasco in Siberia. They've been discharged for nearly six years, but when he gets a message that only says "I need your help" , he grabs his jacket and keys.

The Prince’s Bride: @hddnone

After Tony loses the love of his life to pirates on the high sea, not much matters to him. He agrees to wed Prince Justin Hammer to gain access to vibranium and shut himself away in his workshop until the end of time, but a group of ruffians kidnap Tony to take him to Hydra.

Tony's rescue takes on an unlikely form - the Dread Pirate Rogers, who killed the love of his life five years ago.

A Princess Bride AU

A Kind of Destiny: @weethreequarter

A chance meeting at a wedding brings together an American war veteran and the Prince of Wales. Little do they know, the wheels have been set in motion for a relationship which will change not only their lives, but the monarchy itself. Bucky and Tony strike up a friendship at Steve and Peggy’s wedding, a friendship that soon develops into more. But it’s not so simple: Tony is the Prince of Wales, and heir to the throne of Great Britain and the United Kingdom. Any relationship is played out in the press and public eye, and then there's that pesky issue of succession to consider too. But Bucky is no coward, and when he finds something he wants, he’s prepared to fight for it. And fight he will, at Tony's side, for their very own fairy tale ending.

#adi's rec list #buckytony #winteriron #bucky barnes/tony stark #bucky barnes x tony stark #bucky/tony #bucky x tony #i should create a tag for fic rec lists #this got sort of long so ive hidden some of them under a read more #that doesn't mean they're any less good though!!

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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All in the Family

Chapter 108: Detention with Dolores

At first they all thought they'd somehow found themselves back in that woman's house. Despite a repeat location never yet happening to them, it would be her ghastly place to do so. Instead, it was just as bad, the pink stain that was her life had just traumatized this room.

The very bricks, doilies, and even this side of the door were now horror matched in a vaguely familiar office, a glance out the window showed the Quidditch stands did have them back at Hogwarts though.

"Moony, this is all your fault!" Sirius moaned, still fighting back the impulse to claw his eyes out with or without magic.

Remus didn't even have the heart to argue the point, if he'd known this was what would happen to the DADA job in such a short amount of time, he may have even risked his own affliction to keep this away. The book, once again, was sitting open and waiting for them, and Remus trudged over to get this started. He wasn't sure if Sirius was joking, but he did feel partially responsible for running from the school now whether Padfoot had meant to inflict that in him or not.

Lupin read out the chapter title to nobody's surprise, but a bit of dread. Despite the casual enough set up, they felt something ominous about a whole detention with Umbridge, and they'd never even officially met her. Potter went behind the desk and began rummaging through it with abandon, while Regulus wandered over to the smaller desk where Harry must have been doing his work, but when he got closer he found a rather odd setup.

There was a long black quill he vaguely recognized seeing in his dad's study. He'd seen his dad signing Ministry documents with it though, and Sirius himself had once warned him never to nick that particular one, so he wasn't sure why Umbridge would leave it lying around near Harry. Next to that was a long sheaf of parchment with the words 'I must not tell lies' written several dozen times, and plenty of room to spare for more, but in red ink with little splashes along the border of the heavy paper, yet a pot wasn't in sight.

Lupin's start of the chapter wasn't very interesting, Hermione having to explain to Harry why the student population was treating him this way. It was just a bit sad none of them had wondered the same, but Frank also realized, no one in here could call Harry crazy considering they'd lived through it with him. If he'd just been an outsider? Maybe...

The trio trying to drop the subject and do homework instead didn't last long, as the twins made a rather public launch of what their first Skiving Snackbox was going to be, on first-years.

The Marauders laughed in delight at the mental image, but the others had some reservations about doing the same until all were told to wake up without any setbacks. It was very impressive magic, they'd all admit to that, but the other four still felt it wasn't right, this being done on first-years. At least the volunteers should have been restricted to those of age like the twins were.

Regulus found himself scrutinizing Lupin instead of the quill he was now holding as Hermione lost her temper on the two and went over in a towering tantrum to tell them off in front of the whole common room. It was quite odd, to hear he'd be doing exactly what that Muggle-born was. It didn't bother him as much as it once would have, and that was even more bizarre.

Then he saw Sirius's lip curling in disgust as Hermione laid down the ultimate threat, threatening to tell their mother. Even Peter looked of the utmost affronted just like the rest of the Marauders. Hermione wasn't even their sibling, but he now saw himself more like the Muggle-born than ever, he'd certainly tell them off when they were being idiots, but he'd never go that far. It occurred to him though when Hermione stormed back to Harry and Ron and the Marauders kept muttering amongst themselves rather than continuing, that they were shooting the four furtive looks for more than just their distaste of the situation.

The Marauders had a lot of secrets, and now the four of them were privy to all of them. Their illegal animagus status, their werewolf, and least importantly, their map. Regulus had never had anything to hide to know that kind of gripping fear. He'd already promised Peter he wouldn't say anything about the map, but had he ever promised the same about the larger two? He didn't exactly like Lupin, but none of them were hurting anyone. He would never get Sirius in that kind of trouble, but he wasn't so sure about the other three.

He cleared his throat and waited patiently until everyone was looking at him before saying adamantly, "don't worry Siri, I've never tattled to mother and I'm not going to start now."

To his utter delight, Sirius grinned at him. It was finally that look he'd missed so often these past years, but it didn't distract him from his goal of watching the other three out of the corner of his eye to gauge their reaction.

Evans just clucked her tongue but pressed her lips together, as much as she'd ever shown on the matter of her silence. Alice was smiling at the display, and he hadn't seen her give any ill will towards anyone to worry about. It was Longbottom though who shifted his weight nervously and may be the problem.

Frank would have protested if anyone asked though. Dumbledore had been the one to invite the werewolf into the school and clearly nothing had, or would happen. He wasn't a snitch, he just didn't exactly want to be constantly in the same room with him. He found that even that was beginning to wear off though, he hadn't even moved behind Alice this time in the large open space of the office they were in this time. He'd been too distracted by the vivid pink on the walls nobody wanted to be next to.

Sirius tensed up like Longbottom had just done the same as Hermione and made to move forward and threaten anything he could to make him keep his mouth shut this instant, but James grabbed his arm before he could start another fight.

"We can't kill him until we're out of here, otherwise the books will stop working," he calmly, but quietly reminded.

Peter laughed, but Remus frowned uneasily at all three of them. James was joking, he knew that much, but there was something about the way he was eyeing the four that made his stomach flutter uncomfortably. What were they going to do when this mess was over, did they really trust them all to keep their silence? Even Snape, who now knew his secret as well, had left them feeling so claustrophobic in that castle lately they hadn't so much as sneezed without permission least he do something.

Did Evans even know that? She definitely hadn't known about him before all this though. It was the one thing James had talked about the previous three weeks, how little she'd been in Snivellus's company. The four of them could not just spend the last two years of their school under the thumb of five people though, or they'd do something drastic. Being in this office was only worsening the matter.

Remus kept going uneasily, seeking any form of distraction, and Hermione definitely offered that when she tried her little trick, free house-elves.

Whatever empathy Regulus had for that Muggle-born moments ago vanished, he looked likely to curse her on the spot. How dare she try and snatch away others house-elves! His mind instantly went to Kreacher and someone trying to force him to be free, it was a bleeding miracle Sirius hadn't done it in the future, and had actually considered the threat he posed to the Order if released.

Lily at least sympathized with the idea, but she still hadn't really looked into the matter like she really wanted to now before she shared any kind of opinion. Theirs were honestly the only noteworthy reactions, everyone else just got a laugh Hermione didn't even seem to realize her idea was useless considering they weren't her elves to be getting rid of and Lupin kept going with a faint smile once more.

The rest of the lessons went by without much notice until Care of Magical Creatures, when Malfoy let hint he thought Hagrid was in the same place they did, with giants. Harry's concerned reaction was understandable, none of them could still picture the grounds without him even though Harry kept mentioning it.

Luna Lovegood at least remained as memorable as ever, marching up to Harry in the middle of all eyes and declaring she believed Harry's side.

Sirius still had a dirigible plum tangled in his hair from his time in the bush, and Remus reached over and plucked it now before handing it to Prongs, who smiled fondly and announced, "I think I'm going to take a subscription to that magazine of hers."

Lily smiled without restraint, it was possibly the kindest gesture she'd ever seen him make. Then he caught her eye and gave the little plum a toss before catching it and asking, "like a pair of these as earrings Evans?"

She couldn't even make herself scowl at him, but didn't respond either, still not encouraging him.

James's heart gave an extra little flutter as she took twice as long before just looking away without a response, and he now pocketed it carefully, that was definitely no longer a joke.

Angelina's, lively, reaction to Harry's detention killed any good mood though, Quidditch tryouts even in this rainy weather would still be leagues better than this office. Even the fireplace crackled with a cold chill.

Harry finally made it to said dreaded detention, and they'd all swear the air just got colder with every word Lupin spoke.

Regulus went back to inspecting the long black feather in his hand in confusion, twisting it this way and that in the light, even as Umbridge herself said Harry wouldn't need ink for this special quill. He didn't get it-

"Hey!" He startled when Sirius lashed out and snagged it away.

Potter was hovering above the desk with his mouth hanging open like he'd only just spotted the long sheaf of parchment.

A dementor could have just appeared in the room, it couldn't get any colder in here and the air itself was draining out of all of them. Regulus stamped his foot in frustration; clearly, everyone older than him was getting something he wasn't.

"That's a Blood Quill," Peter finally answered, reaching over and pulling him farther away from the desk as Potter's face kept draining of yet more blood. "We've heard it mentioned a few times, Ministry employees use it to sign official documents. They're, for one use only, though." He finished haltingly.

Regulus finally put it together there wasn't any ink in the equation when Potter blew up the desk, and the paper that had been there. Frank moved to cover Alice, Remus raised the book as a shield, and Lily put up Protego instinctively, but the others only covered their faces as bits of wood rained down.

Curiosity admittedly flared more than anything though, Regulus was half tempted to take it back and give it a try just for the experience, but then Evans marched over to Sirius and snatched it away from him as well. He raised a brow at her but gave no reaction as she drew her wand, and then the place was raining tiny bits of what was left of the feathers from that as well.

She would have done the same if this had been used on Malfoy though, the injustice of it flaring in her like a flame far brighter than the one in here ever could.

Lupin decided to keep reading before anything else got exploded, like this book. His breath was a bit ragged though, he looked like he was going to be sick, even Peter's hand was still shaking a bit where he was holding onto the back of Regulus's robes like he was prepared to drag him farther away before one of his friends exploded next.

Regulus bit down on the inside of his cheek hard as details began to emerge, and he realized he still hadn't fully grasped the grotesqueness of the situation. Harry was having to carve into the back of his own hand, for hours, the truth Umbridge was forcing him to tell his own flesh was a lie.

By the time Harry left the detention Regulus tasted blood in his mouth from biting down too hard and quickly stopped.

The following week of this merely being repeated every night for Harry felt like some new kind of nightmare. The image of Cedric Diggory's dead body could have appeared in the middle of the room again and it would have made perfect sense. This was so disturbing, none of these teenagers could really imagine it. They'd never had to hear of anything quite like this torture, from a teacher at this school.

What was worse, was Harry doing nothing to stop it.

The shock only broke when the chapter came to an end, and Ron's miraculous Keeper position on the Quidditch team distracted no one.

No matter the differences among the eight of them, they found they could all agree on one thing. This woman needed to leave Hogwarts, now.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #Marauders #OotP #Wolfstar #Jilly #Regulus Black #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #James Potter #Peter Pettigrew #Lily Evans #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

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mirrorfalls · 3 years

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Lego Liveblogs ST: TOS, part 15 (of who-the-hell-knows-how-many?)

Fun Fact: Court Martial was designed as a bottle episode that could be filmed for the low low price of one set. Funner fact: It failed spectacularly at this, so now we’ve got a two-part clip show to pad out the cost. So say hi to The Menagerie, everybody!

Broadly speaking, I have fond-ish memories of the Trek-that-never-was pilot we’re getting all the clips from - here’s hoping they won’t all get dashed to pieces by the next hour and change.

* Ahh, Starbase Eleven. Feels like we were here just last week. * Ho-ly jeez. ** I know some people probably think “Dalek” Pike looks hilarious, but it wouldn’t surprise me if his original actor refused to reprise solely because of how goddamn horrifying his fate is. * Ooh, Starfleet Noir! Didn’t expect you back so soon but I ain’t complaining. ** Aaaand we’re rehashing the whole “He said/the computer said” plot now. Well, at least the last episode taught everyone to deem the things just a little less infallible. * Today we learned: Spock’s the original rule-breaking Starfleet cowboy. ** Wonder if he walked all the way into that room with tapes in hand, hoping nobody would notice. * I love Uhura’s “WTH is going on here” face. * “The simple fact that he's a Vulcan means he's incapable of telling a lie.” and other fairy tales Kirk and McCoy tell themselves because they’re too terrified to think about what damage Spock could wreak on the ship otherwise! ** Case in point: this. * Spock, I sure hope you have a good reason for tricking Bones aboard, because if anyone’s gonna defy your one-man show it’s him. * Wait, how did he fake Kirk’s voice anyway? Was he taking lessons from the big guy in What Are Little Girls Made Of? * Anyway, I’m sure Kirk will do the sensible thing and wait for another Enterprise-class starship to become available before chas-ahahahahaha no. ** “You had no right to come along.” “Yeah, well, you had no right to drive a superior officer out past the point of no return!” * An attack of conscience, Mr. Spock? ** Of course not! He’s just letting Kirk onboard now that nobody can stop the Enterprise from reaching the death planet! * Welp, that’s enough action and intrigue for one ep. On with the clip show! * “How the hell did you get exterior footage of the Enterprise in the first place?” “Tell you next episode.” * Good ol’ Pike, in his prime. Still the coldblooded sonuvabitch I remember from Pilot Numero Uno. ** So, my overall retrospective thoughts on The Cage: it’s an interesting enough slice of what Roddenberry wanted Trek to be, with plenty of memorably grisly bits, but as a character piece it took us way too fast into Pike’s nadir when we had no idea what he’s like normally. Worse, Pike’s entire character now revolves around this one planet, which shuts off a lot of character and story potential. ** That said - for all Pike’s being a Grim, Grittier Captain than Kirk could ever hope to, there’s something delightful and almost precious about how he and his team (Spock included!) just light up at the singing flowers of Talos. They’re not just explorers - they’re a kid’s ideal of explorers. ** On a completely unrelated note: I know it’s a bog-standard Grey design, but I can’t stop thinking of the Hey Arnold! Halloween special whenever I see these aliens. * Alas, Spock’s efforts have come to nothing! The Commodore remains unconvinced, Starfleet High Command’s about to pass down the death penalty, and even Kirk seems to have lost faith in his buddy! How can our heroes possibly get out of this one? Stay tuned.

Well, as a Starfleet procedural, this feels a hell of a lot more plausible than Court Martial, but that’s not really much of a compliment. No, where it really shines is in having the guts to actually put Spock’s character on the firing line; there’s no frame-up here, no cleverly-forged evidence, he’s done the unthinkable and it’s wholly up to us to decide whether his reason behind it all is good enough. Difficult in any circumstance, and made much more so by the reminder that Spock didn’t spring from the Earth as Kirk’s BFF, but as his own person, with his own secrets and loyalties that even Kirk doesn’t get to override.

Next: What other secrets lurk, beneath the soils of Talos...?

#Lego Liveblogs Star Trek #Star Trek: The Original Series

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nenestansunsthings · 4 years

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@spectatorspectacul4r i- i wrote a story???? for your art????? that was unfairly cute art, chim! and i hope you know that!

Clef is pulling some shit again.

Kondraki can hear the junior staffers whispering about it in the hallways, knows full well that Bright and Iceberg had pulled the man aside to see if it was true and if he was serious. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little interested himself, even if it was just to see how far Clef would really go.

See, it all started with that cat.

Nobody actually knew where the cat had come from, or who it belonged to, or why it was there. Everyone was pretty goddamn sure it was Clef’s– it wore a silly, flowery boater hat sometimes, for one thing, and it was always hanging around his usual haunts– but whenever they asked him he always said it belonged to someone else. Kondraki had lost track of how many times it had been shoved into his office, with someone saying Clef had told them he owned it. The same went for Gears, Crow, Rights, Bright, Glass– even Roth had been approached by someone who’d been told it was hers, as awkward as that had to have been. It knew the site so well they swore it had an ID card and a map, and every time someone had tried to catch it the cat had always barely managed to slip from their grasp. It wasn’t bad, compared to some of the things they had locked up, but it was weird, and things only got weirder when they couldn’t find anything on it. So it was almost a relief when Clef stopped playing around with them all and just said outright that it was his cat.

Of course, though, it was Clef. So there was no way things would be that easy.

It’s almost fitting that Kondraki hasn’t heard the actual announcement. He’s not even sure if there was one. Clef’s challenge feels like it was meant to be spread only in rumours and whispers, until everyone in the site can’t help but know it.

“I will leave a key on my cat. If one can get the key, then they shall know everything about me.”

Damn, did that spur people to action.

But the cat is fast. Cunning, too, enough that sometimes Kondraki wonders if Clef doesn’t share a mind with it. It dodges and disappears and attacks, when people get too close. It makes people bleed and run, and that’s only if somehow they’d managed to find it in the first place. A few enterprising researchers put up traps and find them dismantled, with a smug cat licking its paws clean just a few feet away. He avoids it where he can. He really doesn’t want to get sucked into this whole cat mess.

Kondraki’s first proper encounter with the cat is in his office.

He walks in and the damned thing is curled up in his swivel chair, eyes closed and tail settled around itself protectively. The hat isn’t on its head today; it’s on his desk, discarded on top of some paperwork he hadn’t finished. It doesn’t move even when he opens the door. He can’t help but notice the slow rise and fall of its chest; is it asleep? Really?

It’d be hilarious if he wasn’t beginning to worry about it trying to kill him if he came too close.

But he’s got to finish something today, or Gears is going to kill him before the cat can, so Kondraki steels himself and closes the door behind him.

“Hey!”

The cat jolts, shooting up so quickly it nearly falls off the chair. It hisses, claws digging into the foam dangerously. Kondraki backs away, holding up his hands in surrender. “Whoa! Don’t- I don’t want any trouble, okay? Don’t bite or anything.”

That doesn’t stop the cat from glaring up at him like he’s going to gut it.

“Just get off,” Kondraki hisses back. “I have work to finish. I don’t want your goddamn key, okay? As much as I’d like to know everything about Clef or whatever he apparently said, I’d prefer to do it alive. Just let me finish signing everything before Gears and Iceberg have my head.”

The cat pauses, its eyes flashing dangerously, before it jumps onto his desk and picks up its hat in its little mouth. It flips the hat onto its head in a single smooth motion before meowing to itself and hopping onto his windowsill next.

“… Damn. Okay.” Kondraki shakes his head, taking his seat and grabbing the unfairly tall stack. He’s got a lot to do today, cat be damned.

When he turns to the windowsill again, almost half an hour later, the cat is gone.

The second time he encounters the cat, it’s in the cafeteria, hat-free and perched on the rafters dangling its tail gleefully down towards a group of interns who’ve made a wobbling stack of chairs to try and reach it. It’s clearly having fun, taking pleasure in their futile attempts with a wide grin as sharp as its owner’s.

Kondraki isn’t taking the same pleasure, because the poor asshole at the top is going to fall off. “What the hell are you idiots doing?!”

“Shit!” One of them panics, their hold on the chairs slipping. It’s only their companion’s quick movement that stops the whole thing from collapsing in on itself. “D-Doctor Kondraki! We’re so sorry-!”

“How exactly were you planning to get down from there?!” Kondraki demands, and the one on top pales. “What, were you going to climb? Do it. Climb down from there right now. I’d like to see you try that.”

“Sir-”

“I said,” he repeated, “climb down from there.”

The intern gulps, looking down and very carefully grabbing the legs of the chairs. They’ve stacked them well enough, but it’s a dangerous climb regardless, one that’s only made worse by how the person climbing down is shaking. Kondraki walks closer, readying himself to catch them if they lose their grip. Somehow, the fall he expects doesn’t come.

“I’m sorry,” the intern apologizes quickly, their breathing uneven and panicked. “Please- Please don’t tell Doctor Glass, he told us not to do this, please don’t-“

“Oh, I won’t be doing that.” Kondraki turns his gaze to the group still standing by the stack. They flinch. “No, you all apparently decided to- what? Disobey Glass’s orders to not stack chairs to the ceiling to grab a fucking cat? No, you’re telling him yourselves.”

They nod quickly, practically tripping over themselves to get out. Kondraki sees them out of the cafeteria first before turning to the cat. The pointed grin has fallen from its face, and it’s looking down at him with a faint interest in its eyes.

“And as for you,” Kondraki continues, because god damn if he’s not going to call out the cat, “what the fuck was that? Clef is going to get into so much trouble if his little game kills someone, you asshole. Did you think it was okay to let them climb that far? I saw you playing with them, you dick. Get down from there right now.”

To his surprise, after a moment, the cat complies. It plops itself down on the chairs, one by one, hopping its way down with an unfair grace. It settles down finally just a foot away from the stack, clearly ready to knock it down onto Kondraki if he tries anything.

Kondraki huffs. “Honestly, you’re such an asshole cat. No wonder Clef picked you.” He approaches slowly, reaches down not for the key around its neck but to grab it by the scruff of its neck. It doesn’t stop him, only watches him warningly with mismatched eyes. “Okrutny kotek. Okropny kotek. I’m dumping you in Clef’s office before you murder some idiot researcher.”

It grumbles at him, as if to say carry me properly, dumbass, but it bats away his hand when he moves to support it from under so he leaves it alone. He doesn’t try for the key, either. As enticing as it is, brass nestled under the cat’s fluffy fur, he doesn’t think the cat’s going to trust him with it. And he’s not exactly playing Clef’s game seriously, either. So the cat makes its way to its owner’s office without incident.

The third time he encounters the cat, it’s because the little thing is weaving its way between his feet in the hallways.

“Hey!” Kondraki barely manages to stop himself from falling, throwing out a hand to steady himself against the wall. “Fucking- what do you want? Do you like tripping people in the halls or something?”

The cat just purrs at him, the fucker. It’s infuriating how cute it is. As much as Kondraki’s not really a cat person, there’s something about this one that gets to him.

“Oh, shut up.” He picks it up, ignoring its angry yowl when he does, and he carries it in his arms as he makes his way to his office. “What, are you having some fun in between dragging people to hell? Am I going to have to stop someone from getting their eyes clawed out today?”

Clef’s cat huffs, settling down in his grip. It lets him pet it, lets him rub its tiny little forehead and the curve of its spine. It’s fluffy. “Puszysty kotek. Malutki słodki mały kotek…”

“Does Clef know you baby-talk his cat?” Iceberg snarks as he passes. Kondraki would flip him off if his hands weren’t occupied.

He nudges the door to his office open with one foot when he gets there, heading over to his desk and depositing his fluffy companion on it. “You can stay in there for a bit. At least I can keep an eye on you. No-one needs another chair incident.”

The cat pauses for a moment, then settles down with an indulgent purr. Kondraki has to stop himself from smiling at the sight. He sits down in his own chair and gets to his work.

He loses track of how many times he encounters the cat after that. It’s taken a liking to him, he thinks. It likes to follow him around or show up in his office sometimes, winding its way between his legs or scratching at the door until he lets it in to sleep under his desk. Rights asks, at some point, if he’s going to take the key from it. In all honesty, he doesn’t care. So long as that cat doesn’t stop liking him, he’s fine with anything.

The cat seems to know that, too. It’s gotten more and more comfortable just being around him, letting him scratch at the crook of its neck and falling asleep on his lap despite the risk. Throughout all that, the brass key hanging around its neck goes untouched, except when he nudges it by accident when he picks the little cat up.

So he really doesn’t get it when the cat approaches him in the break room one day, stalking forward slowly with determination in its eyes. He doesn’t get why it looks so apprehensive.

“Morning,” he says to it, turning to it and watching as it stiffens at his voice. “Is something wrong? You’re a lot quieter than usual. Do you want to come nearer? Kici, kici, kici, kici…”

The cat’s claws are digging into the stuffing of the couch. It nudges the elbow he has resting near it, meowing plaintively.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” Kondraki reaches out to pet it. It makes an angry little mrrp noise when he does, grabbing his hand with its little front paws and pulling it to the key still nestled comfortably under its fur.

“… What the hell are you doing?” Kondraki tries to tug his hand away. The cat doesn’t let go. “You know I’m not supposed to have this, right? This isn’t my key. And as much as Clef talks a big game about this being a test and not just him trying to get us off his back about his past, he probably wouldn’t like me having it.”

The cat stares at him like he’s the stupidest man alive. It’s a very expressive cat.

“Honestly.” Kondraki huffs, letting it bat at his fingers angrily. “Don’t scratch, asshole. Like I said, I’m not actually supposed to have that thing.”

The cat growls.

“Fine! Fine! Will it shut you up if I just take it?” The claws on his hand stop digging quite so much, and Kondraki groans. “Fucking- ow. I’m going to need to clean all these cuts you left, little asshole. If you leave any more I’m going to punt you out a window.”

His fingers close gently around the key.

The cat doesn’t move as he carefully takes off the necklace it’s wearing, letting him remove the key with no fight at all. It’s weird, Kondraki thinks. Everyone he’s ever seen make the mistake of trying has always left with a bloody hand cursing Clef and his cat to hell and back. And yet he’s perfectly fine.

He shakes his head, setting the key and its necklace beside him and going back to petting the cat, which has already settled into a familiar position curled up on his lap.

There’s a sudden hiss, not from the cat’s throat but from the cat, and in a flash of blinding light the weight on his lap is suddenly doubled. Kondraki yelps, shoving the thing on its lap down instinctively.

“Ow! Jesus, Konny-!”

Kondraki blinks, shocked, at the figure in front of him. Clef pokes at the back of his head carefully, wincing at what must be a spike of pain where he touches. “Ow. And you say I hurt you. God, you’re terrible.”

“I- Wh- Clef?! What the fuck-?!”

“Honestly, Konny.” Clef huffs, crossing his arms. “Did you have to shove me? First you refuse my key. And now this.”

“… Your key?” Kondraki starts, checking for the cat. It’s not there. Realization hits all too suddenly. “Wait, you’re-?!”

“Yeah!” Clef grins, smoothing down the mess his long hair’s become. It’s messy because he’s been petting it, Kondraki realizes, horrified. “You know, Konny, I really didn’t think you’d be that comfy.”

Kondraki makes an incoherent noise, chucking the key at Clef. His coworker only laughs.

He- He’s been-

Clef is a cat. That he’s been petting.

… Kondraki’s gotten in way too deep, hasn’t he.

#scp fandom #cat clef cat clef #clefdraki #dr clef #dr kondraki #scp foundation #writey asks

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kuzocho · 4 years

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Scarred. | Kaminari Denki x Reader

I’m not even sure what this is, lol. But my boy Kami needs more love. So here’s some h/c with him.

tw: scars (not from self-harm)

Kaminari moaned when your hips rolled against his and it took all his will power not to go any further than this heavy make-out session. Your hands pulled harder at his hair from the sound he made and with half-lidded eyes, you breathed his name. Feeling his blood rushing through his veins at that, his grip on your waist got stronger. He couldn’t help but crane his neck to kiss you once more. Your fingers left his hair and wandered down, cupping his face for a second before they found hold on his shoulders as your hips moved again.

A sight left both of your lips, yours leaving to trail down kisses along his jawline while he closed his eyes. The feeling of your kisses on his neck send shivers down his spine and the way your fingers touched him was intoxicating. They roamed his shoulders, taking in the warm skin of his arms before they explored his lean muscles on his chest. He quietly moaned again when you draw a slow circle over his crotch and your digits left patters on his stomach and with his name falling from your lips again before they sucked at his neck, it felt so good that he almost missed how your fingers played with the hem of his shirt, leisurely finding their way under it. His eyes flew open and you nearly fell from his lap when he pushed himself up to grab your wrists.

“Stop”, he said, his voice was pressed and full of panic.

Leaning back on your heels you asked, “Are you okay?” Your hands moved away from his shirt and he let go of them. Instead, he intertwined one of them with yours and gave it a gently squeeze.

“Yes, baby, it’s all good. I’m just not in the mood, y’know?” The lie left his lips in an instant, given that it was not the first time he had told you that.

“’kay…” You didn’t buy his answer. Hell, how could you after you felt his arousal just mere moments ago.

But as much as Kaminari wanted to tell you, he couldn’t do it yet. He knew that with the direction you two were going, he had to at one point, but because of his own selfishness, he wanted to delay that as far as possible. When he had literally run into you in that cute little ramen shop close to his work a few weeks ago, he had been immediately smitten by you. Fortunately, you had been interested as well, giving him your number and he had taken you out for some coffee the next day. On your second date a couple of days after, he had kissed you.

Ever since then, he had met you regularly, either eating dinner somewhere, cooking together at your place or playing video games at his, but always ending up with locked lips and roaming hands. And every time he had to end it. Along the way of all this, Kaminari had developed feelings for you which only made it harder for him. He was certain that you would react like all the other women and after the last few weeks, he wasn’t ready for you to leave yet. So he was being a dick, telling you lies why he stopped you when your hands found their way under his shirt, because he wanted to have more moments with you, even though the guilt made his stomach turn.

The feeling was even worse today, seeing you chewing your bottom lip and knitting your eyebrows together.

You turned your head to the side. “You know, you can tell me if you don’t find me attractive enough.”

“W-What? No, that’s not it!”

“I won’t throw a tantrum or be mad at you, just tell me.” Your voice was quiet.

He squeezed your hand. “Hey, cupcake, look at me”, he gently demanded. When you did, he added, “I swear, this has nothing to do with you and everything with me.”

His heart fluttered a bit as you chuckled. “That’s such a cliché, Kami.”

“It’s true though. I wasn’t lying when I said you took my breath away the first time you smiled at me, sweet cheeks.” Kaminari tried to give you one of his cheeky smirks, but it felt weak and shaky.

“But you’re lying every time I try to initiate something.”

It was his turn to look away. “I know.”

“Why?”, you asked as you kept looking at him. There wasn’t any anger in your voice.

Pressure formed in his chest, making his heartbeat faster as he realized that this was the moment he had tried to run away from. Of course he despised lying to you. But leaving you with the feeling his behaviour was your fault? He’d rather got beaten up by Bakugou. Despite thinking about it a lot beforehand, he didn’t know what to say and the first thing was, “You’re not gonna like me anymore after you’ve seen it.”

He sounded like a whiny teenage-boy, making the pressure worse. He felt like he was choking on the air.

You leaned closer to kiss his cheek and oh god, this would be the last time you would do this, he knew it. “Kami, I’m sure that’s not possible. It is about your body, isn’t it? I know that everyone has some parts that they don’t like about themselves, but from what I’ve could feel and see so far, there is nothing wrong with yours. Nobody is fla-”

The bubble in his chest exploded like a balloon being picked by a needle and he blurted out, “I’m scarred!” Warmth crept up his cheeks and the need to hide was almost unbearable. That was definitely not the way he had wanted to tell you.

You quirked and eyebrow up. “You are a hero, of course you would have some scars.”

He licked his lips, his eyes searching the room for something they could focus on. “It’s worse than that.”

Placing another kiss on his cheek, you mumbled, “Sunshine, why don’t you just show me and then we can argue how bad it is?”

His gaze wandered back to you and your relaxed complexion. Maybe it won’t be so bad this time, a tiny voice in his head said and suddenly he nodded. Sensing that nothing would come out if he tried to speak, he waved his hand to gesture that you should get off him. Letting go of his other fingers, you sat next to him on the couch. Kaminari took a last glance at your face before he turned away, his back facing you. Taking a deep breath in a weak attempt to calm himself, he resisted the urge to just run, grabbing his shirt with trembling hands at his neck and pulling it off. Once he was out of it, he let his head hung low.

Your shocked gasp filled the room for a second and Kaminari closed his eyes. He memorised the picture that you saw a long time ago.

Dozens over dozens over dozens of scars littered his whole back. They were small, each only less than an inch long, but there were so many that it didn’t mattered anyway. Some of them were straight, some cracked ironically like a lightning bolt and the white colour and shiny surface only added to that even more. It was the worst around his spine. They gathered along it, covering almost every part of skin of it before they spread out. In two years or so, his sides, shoulders and neck would be coated with them as well. And after that, his front and his arms would be next, maybe even his legs. At least they didn’t hurt or made his skin tight.

“How?”

“Every time I short-circuit myself.”

It had started to happen at the training camp during their first summer break. While he had changed in front of his friends, Sero had spotted them. On that day, Kaminari hadn’t bothered, thinking that they might be scars from his childhood since they weren’t that many. It only had occurred to him that they could be quirk related when Kirishima had pointed out more of them the next day. When they had been back at school after the incident, he had overused his quirk on purpose, confirming his theory. There had been nothing Recovery Girl could have done to remove or undo them and he also hadn’t minded, assuming that he would solve the problem of going into his yay-mode quite fast.

But he had forgotten that he had been at UA, so they had pushed and pushed and pushed him, always going plus ultra. The self-awareness had kicked in when all of the boys had started to send hidden glances at his back and as the cherry on top of it all, Bakugou had stopped calling him stupid and dunce face.

Now, a few years later, they didn’t increased as frequently as back then, since he actually managed to raise the limits of his quirk ridiculously high. The damage had been done anyway, especially on his confidence, masking his insecurities by being even more awkwardly flirtatious. When there hadn’t been that many, he could still explore intimacy with girls, but even that had changed after the scars had covered all of his lower back, making him feel the need to either warn them beforehand or not anticipating anything at all. He bad become used to the different reactions, so much that he could foreshadow them based on the personality most of the time and slowly finding peace in never finding a significant other.

But then you came, knocking him straight out of his Pikachu socks and he wanted nothing more for you than to stay. And now he was sitting in front of you. He felt naked in a way that had nothing to do with clothes. It was as if you could look right through him, like his soul with all his insecurities he developed over the years laid directly in front of you, ready to get stumped on again. At any moment now, you would get up and tell him that you couldn’t to this and that it’s dis-

“Can I touch them?”

“What?” His head whipped around and he saw your face out of the corners of his eyes. Your hand was already hovering in the air, mere inches away from his skin. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint your emotions; there was sadness, maybe a hint of anger – but he felt that it wasn’t towards him – and something softer, calmer, something he had seen before in your eyes when you looked at him. Your question threw him off guard, obviously. No one ever wanted to touch them willingly, but before he could think about it further, he nodded and turned his head back, missing the reassuring smile you gave him.

His heart was beating a mile per minute and a shiver ran through him as your fingertips tenderly touched a scar on his right shoulder blade. It wasn’t bad per se, but a completely new feeling. He experienced sensory overload as the pads of your fingers followed the thin lines. The silence buzzed violently in his ears and the clock was ticking so loudly, leaving him suddenly wishing he had put some music on before you came over and your breath fanned his neck, making him feeling hot there while the rest of his body was cold from his anxiety.

And then you kissed one of them and his heart missed a beat at the feeling. It was gently and warm and loving. His vision blurred.

“That”, you started lowly, pressing your lips on another scarred patch between the words, “doesn’t change a damn thing.” Your arms came around his waist, pulling him closer. Embracing him with all his flaws and he barely could hold a sniffle in. “And you know why?” Another kiss, this time closer to his neck. “Because you’re still beautiful.”

He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, forcing the tears back with a mess of white dazzling dots behind his eyelids, pleading, “Please, stop.”

But you would have none of that. “And that has nothing to do with your looks. I fell for you, because you’re funny and smart and adventurous and so unbelievable lovable.”

There were more kisses and it got too much. The last word ripped a sob through him. One of your hands were on his chest, pushing him down with you while the other was waving through his hair as he let himself fall. The tears were streaming freely now and Kaminari couldn’t tell if it was because the anxiety had deflated the second you had hugged him or because your words had awoken an emotion deep within him. Either way, he didn’t hold back, couldn’t bring himself to do so anymore and you didn’t seem to mind as you cooed at him.

God, how long had he been longing to hear these words? Not the ‘you can still be a hero, bro’, the ‘it just means you’re pretty strong’, the ‘don’t worry, with your face and chest you’re still sexy’, but the simple confirmation that he was enough. That he wasn’t his scars. That he was more than that.

At some point, you turned him around and pulled him even closer and he pressed his face into your neck, babbling incoherent words about all the pitiful looks with the reassuring pads on his shoulder afterwards and the countless rejections he had gotten over the years, because yes, he was nice, but that’s not what they were looking for.

Eventually, the sobs stop wrecking through his body, turning into sniffles and after a while they were gone too. Your hand drew small circles on his back and just the sheer thought of such a tender affection on something he despised for so long had him almost bawling his eyes out again.

He closed his eyes, whispering, “You meant that?”

“All of it”, you answered, giving him a kiss on top of his head.

Thinking what to say next to express his feelings, he sat up. His back was turned to you again, this time however, he felt comfortable. It was still weird, of course, but he had nothing to hide anymore. You’ve seen everything, you’ve seen him – and you were still here.

“I’ll go and get you some water”, you said quietly and stood up. You were right, he really needed that. The headache grew with every passing second and he probably looked like shit with blood-shot eyes and reddened cheeks and god knows whatnot, but he grabbed your wrist, looking up to you. Your gaze and smile were warm and there wasn’t any need to ask, but, “So you’re going to stay?”

You leaned down to him again, faces mere inches from each other. “Yes, Denki, I’m staying. Takes more than that to scare me away.”

He ignored the wet patch on your shirt – you could wear one of his shirts soon, he definitely wouldn’t mind - and the fact that he absolutely needed to wash his wash as he cupped your face to press his lips onto yours. He hummed into it, smiling. He really liked the sound of you saying his name.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #kaminari denki x Reader #Kaminari denki #he needs more love #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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wolf-stark · 3 years

Note

You ask I deliver — both tfatws asks in one!

tfatws weekly ask 1

i finally saw ep1!! i wont be able to see ep2 until thursday at the earliest but i already have some Thots on this ep. here are the ones I remember

first is, and i'm so sorry for this, a grammar lesson. an appositive is when you stick an additional phrase in between commas, dashes, or the like. i actually just used one! the "and i'm so sorry for this" in the first sentence of this paragraph is an appositive. thing is, most english speakers don't normally use them when they speak, only in writing. so i'm always on high alert whenever i hear somebody in tv or movies use one. (it's generally a marker of bad screenwriting). anyway there was one right in the beginning of the episode. the white army guy yelling at sam wilson said "first lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground." yeah so. the writing of this series started out on the wrong foot for me. but the rest of the episode was obviously tons and tons better (every interview i see with malcolm spellman makes me love him more and more)

the contrast between the opening minutes (falcon action sequence) and the rest of the ep.... i would 100000/10 rather watch a series with just sam and bucky dealing with life. i dont give a single crap about the flag-smashers or any of that. i just want sam, sarah & fam getting their boating business back on the ground & yeeting racist dickwads, bucky going through therapy and making amends, sam and joaquin being bros, sambucky homoerotic tension, etc.

the cinnamontography! wandavision mostly used cinematography to signify era n stuff. tfatws doesn't have wv's premise to go off of, so here's some tricks i noticed:

with sam there's obviously all sorts of shots with the captain america iconography next to his face, but he hasn't totally claimed it. there's the mural of steve rogers in the background; there's sam staring into the shield like it's a spectre of steve's face; there's sam looking into the exhibit, the shield and sam separated by glass and a layer of camera focus. steve is a constant spectre, always there, an idea, a symbol himself. sam's relationship with this iconography is distanced. he is separated by glass exhibit walls. by painting canvases. he doesn't yet feel worthy to take on that iconography. this whole thing was pulled off quite well but also a bit on-the-nose if only in quantity. there's just sooooo much fancy iconography stuff

speaking of the exhibit, there's something that i get real pissy about. it's when like, there's an action going on you're supposed to be paying attention to but the cinematographer is like,,,, hey! check out this location! or this headline! or something! there was a lot of that in the exhibit. the camera was like, you could focus on sam and rhodey's convo (which was fine but could have been so much better with an extra like 10 minutes of deep character study talk) but noooo you want me to look at the symbol for the united nations and read all the text about bucky who hasn't even showed up yet. shut up i know the lore and ill watch the shot-by-shot breakdown yt vids you don't have to make the shot this long jkdsalcjklasejf

my fav trick was with bucky and the therapist. i had seen a clip of the scene with bucky and the therapist beforehand and i thought the cinnamontography was super obnoxious, but then i was like, oh duh. the shots frequently change the distance between the camera and its subject. sometimes it's uncomfortably close and sometimes it's really far. a clear allegory for the duality of therapy, esp for bucky! therapy is an invasive process wherein he is ruthlessly examined, picked apart, and berated for his trauma (this therapist is crap in every way btw, "mean therapist" works for greg house and greg house only). so the camera goes close. it makes the viewer claustrophobic like bucky. but when he's like "no i haven't had any nightmares" the camera suddenly goes really far. we see bucky as this tiny head in the center of the bottom of the frame. we are distanced from him. he has pushed us away. we cannot see him. he lies because he is vulnerable. so yeah, amazing work there. the therapy scene was hard to watch on purpose!

did bucky slip a note to yori inside the dollar bill? bucky stop making me emooooo. the suuper awkward fake smile has me 😭 (veteran trying to adjust!)

mark my worrrrds when sam asks someone y the govt picked john “white bread” walker they’re gonna say “we needed somebody everyone can get behind....someone uncontroversial, someone everyone can see themselves in” like that exact racist dog whistle

tfatws weekly ask 2

just saw ep2 so im taking advantage of the 2 seconds i can be on tumblr without worrying about tfatws spoilers before new episode drops

when isaiah said "your people put me in prison for being a hero" and bucky thought "your people" means hydra. 🤦‍♂️

speaking of racism, the interplay between sam being Black (anti-Black racism) and sam being the Falcon (negrophilia, "can i take a selfie w you as i deny you a loan?") and the intersection between the two (j*hn lichrally called sam "steve's wingman"! he takes the crypto out of crypto-racist in like 2 seconds!) !!!!!!!! a Black celebrity's Black experience, the separation of man and identity!!!! (thinking about vanessa bayer in snl in that skit "beyonce is black" telling her black friend "you're not black, you're...my girl!")

after sam gets racially profiled by cops we see j*hn standing in front of cop cars cinematic parallels turns out j*hn is racist who knew

this therapist sucks major ass but she got bucky and sam together in the same room and ready to collaborate...that's something ig. it was lichrally couple's therapy she said she used her miracle exercise with couples sambucky antis get blended

bucky says "he was wrong about you so maybe he was wrong about me"...that's not how people talk. when therapist asks bucky, the guy who doesn't talk at all about himself, "y do you hate sam", the last thing bucky's gonna do is actually connect his hatred of sam to his own self-worth issues. bucky generally refuses to talk about himself, so why would he talk about himself in the one context that nobody ever links back to their own neuroses: hatred of other people? one thing human beings hate most is admitting we're wrong. admitting you hate someone because of your own issues? that's a major therapeutic step. bucky would absolutely have to be prompted to do that. even like one or two lines of dialogue more would have set up that line better. but in terms of the actual thought? an amazing way to take the sam/bucky relationship. bucky bases his self-worth on steve believing in him, and if steve is wrong bucky has no self-worth, so 1) he has to develop self-worth disassociated from steve's assessment of him and 2) he has to love himself before he can love sam, and 3) he has to realize that sam giving up the shield is a sign of sam's humility not his unworthiness.

conversely, we don't get into why sam hates bucky? yeah sam has the right to hate a guy that has tried to kill him (albeit while brainwashed) multiple times, and now shows up in his life just to bash him but. everything happens so fast i cant follow their relationship

in fact i dont feel like i understood much of anything. like y did bucky and sam go on that mission together? how connected are sam/bucky/joaquin with the government? doesn't bucky just want to retire now? literally what is everyone doing/feeling and why???

if battlestar becomes a knowing commentary on the black best friend stereotype i'm gonna party, but i dont expect much of that

the interplay between man and symbol. captain america is obviously a symbol. the shield is obviously a symbol. but steve rogers? the. man behind the cowl? he too seems to become a symbol. a paragon of a good guy, so good he's unreachable. steve was just a guy stop idolizing him the last thing steve would want is to be idolized

as the resident musician/music nerd on mcublr, 1) that captain america rally music slaps, but 2) re: the song at the end of the ep, if you're just gonna rip off mozart's lacrymosa then at least play mozart's lacrymosa. we wont blame you the lacrymosa slaps (if you dont know what im talking about go on yt and search it up youll recognize it fo sho

look i love enfys nest as much as the next guy but if tfatws is gonna get erin kellyman to play another innocent little gurl blackmailed into the fakeout-villain position (her text seemed to suggest as such) then 😡 like why can't women just....be evil? young, freckly, innocent-looking women? girls are not untouchable pure objects but full of rage and resentment just as much as anyone can be

bonus ep1 comment: bucky says about that senator whose car he hijacked, "she continued to abuse the power i gave her." fictionaldarling on yt say that he says "i" because he can't disassociate himself from his winter soldier persona which begets endless and senseless guilt. like dude. can i not be emo for like 1 second.

OKay. First off, as much I enjoy your sending it to me, what made you decide to send me these??

TFATWS WA #1

Don't worry about getting this to me as early as possible. I usually don't watch the episode right away.

1. Cool writing lesson.

2. Everyone wants a comedy show [like Friends] about the MCU superheroes.

3. Cinematography is always a beautiful thing.

4. Sam definitely has to carve his own Captain America status for himself, outside of Steve's ya know everything.

5. They have to do that for people who was just now tuning in because they're in love with Sam Wilson or Sharon Carter.

6. I think the therapist was taking a 'tough love' approach for Bucky, because she likely has some very strong opinions about the literal assassin she's been assigned to give therapy too. She did not choose to talk to him, she was assigned that make that clear in the second episode.

And, Bucky isn't lying when he said it wasn't a nightmare. It wasn't a nightmare, it was a resurfaced memory. So, technically he wasn't lying - and yes, the camera does move away because while he's saying he didn't have a nightmare, he's not expanding on what actually happened - so, he's still pushing the therapist/us away.

7. Bucky, and Steve, have/had a TON to adjust to.

8. Yeah, I agree that will be the bullshit line they give. If they ever actually talk about it.

TFATW WA #2

Yeah, always got to take advantage of avoiding those spoilers lmfaoo.

1. Honestly, that line was double meaning. Both about White people and Hydra [which is made up of mostly white supremacists/nazis] So, the line is gesturing to both White People in general and Hydra assholes together. I think the terminology is “double edge sword”??

2. This whole paragraph structure confused me, ngl - so I'm going to answer it the best I can. I do like that they're not ignoring the fact that Sam being Black is 1000% the reason he's not the Official Captain America - because the gov't is racist as hell.

I also like the little lines about how they point out little things about Sam's Falcon persona, like that kid calling him 'Black Falcon' specifically and Sam's response show the split between Sam and Falcon itself.

John is a dick for calling Sam the wingman of Steve Rogers. Sam was a hero all on his own before Steve asked him to join up again. [Side note, it's lichrally??]

3. Exactly, the parallel of Sam being profiled and surrounded while just on the street and John being surrounded by fans and being able to spring Bucky with apparently only a few sentences shows a Loooooot

4. Honestly, at this point I wonder if she's not actually a therapist and is just an agent assigned to assess Bucky outside of an Official Building. I do know, however, that her 'look at each other and speak' exercise is actually a real therapy practice. It's just a little slower.

5. Actually, I think he would've blurted that out. That whole line. I don't think Bucky hates Sam. I think they could've done the scene better, but I think that had Sam prodded him/the therapist been more annoying Bucky would've lost control of his emotions and blurted out the whole "If he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me" but I feel like the writing for this show is just... not there. Sometimes you blurt shit when you get overemotional and I think that was what Bucky was supposed to be like.

6. I don't think Sam hates Bucky, I think he doesn't trust him though. I do wish they'd talked about that though. The whole 'talk to each other' scene should've been a LOT longer and a LOT slower.

7. Sam and Bucky's relationship is being fast tracked because they don't really know how to work the relationship out, writers-room-wise. Bucky is technically retired, but I feel like he's trying to live up to Steve's expectations and doing what Steve would've done and we all know that if Steve was there, Steve would've jumped on that plane with Sam. It looks like Sam/Bucky/Joaquin are a side-team based from Military services but as Sam says they're all free agents so...?

8. Sadly, They seem to just be propping up to be another stereotype.

9. Captain America is a symbol. Steve Rogers is a man. But now Steve Rogers is an idol because of all the shit he's been through and honestly, it's not a bad thing he's become an idol for people - it's using Steve as a reason to make White Bread Walker the next Captain that makes Steve's idolization so fucked.

10. I don't know anything about music so I have no opinion here, sorry.

11. Enfys?? Also, I think they did the whole Innocent Girl Thing as side commentary for Bucky lowering his guard about seeing a young girl rather than a guy.

12. Bucky is the Winter Solider. The Winter Solider is Bucky. That is how Bucky will always see it because although he was brainwashed, it was still him and he remembers all of it. When you have constant memories of something 'someone else' did, you tend to not be able to pull the two personas out of each other. I want Bucky to take up the title, White Wolf instead of Winter Soldier. Honest.

This is all my opinion, I’m honestly a little disappointed with the writing of TFATWS so far so... I’m not really optimistic about this.

#Asks

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 5 years

Text

Sweet Pea//To Be So Lonely

Request: Hi, I’m so sorry to bother, but I’ve been through a very bad break up recently... and I wanted to know if you can write something about reader finally giving up trying to get him to forgive her, and to get back with but in the end she see that he has a new girl and she’s even more heart broken and very lonely because she never talk about her problems to anyone and somehow Sweet Pea could notice and comfort or something like that? 🥺

Hey! So I usually write/posts things in order but I thought I’d do this one pretty soon after I got it. I hope this cheers you up, even if its just a little bit. And you will be okay, I promise!

Whoever said that time heals a broken heart was lying.

Granted you had only been single for two weeks, but thats not the point...and it still sucks.

Especially when he’s already moved on...and seems to be happier than ever.

Breakups are the worst, no matter how they end. The ones that end messy, with shouting and screaming and crying suck. The ones that end with goodbye hugs and one last kisses are just made up for movies. And nobody ever stays friends with their ex, its just made up by people who want to make themselves feel better about that fact that the person they loved the most didn’t love them anymore.

But the worst breakups are the one where you’ve fought for one another just for it to still end in heartbreak. Especially when you still have to see them everyday.

The problem with living in a small town is the fact that there is only a small amount of teenagers, meaning basically everyone has the same friends. Meaning if you break up with someone, they have to chose sides, and even though they haven’t stated that they’re on his side, they are. You can tell.

He probably told them all about your attempts to get back with him. And the shouting and arguing. And he’s definitely told them about his new girl, because well, she seems to be hanging out with them more than you are at the minute.

But you don’t blame her. You’ve accepted your fate. She seems sweet, and he seems happy. And everyone seems to like her, well at least thats what you think. You’ve only been observing from afar, too afraid to actually approach your group of friends just in case you make everything awkward. Which of course you would.

Plus, you don’t really feel like talking to them. When it first happened and everyone heard you got a few texts from them saying they were always around to talk to. And you appreciated it, of course. But like hell are you going to pour your heart out to your friends about something you fought so hard for, just for it all to blow back up in your face, and then for him to move on within a matter of weeks.

Tonight is Reggie Mantle’s ‘my parents are away for the weekend so lets get so drunk we can’t remember our own names or the people we’re having very drunk sex with’ party. And to be honest you don’t really know why you’re here. Actually yes you do, to get drunk and forget your name and whoever you might possibly hook up with. But as you’re sat on the sofa with a cup of who knows what in your hand and two couples making out beside you, you don’t really want to do any of those things...you don’t really want to do anything.

Looking around the dimly lit room you notice three things...

One. Veronica seems to have decided on Reggie for now. Good for her. Reggie’s a sweetheart even if he is kind of an ass sometimes, and Archie needs some time to think and work on himself after everything he’s been through.

Two. Archie is making out with some girl from your Biology class and the irony makes you almost crack a smile. So much for finding himself, but at least he looks happy. Well you assume, he’s practically been swallowed by the girl leaning against the wall.

Three. He’s dancing with her. The two of them pressed as close together as humanly possible. Her arms draped across his shoulders while his grip her hips, the two moving together as one. And they’re both happy. Really happy. You haven’t seen his smile that wide for a very long time. They’re both whispering and giggling and it reminds you of when that was you in her place. Both of you making stupid jokes as he spun you around. Him whispering how beautiful you looked making you blush.

Yes you’ve accepted that he’s moved on, but it doesn’t sting any less as you watch them move off the dance floor and towards the kitchen, unable to keep their hands off each other.

“You do know that you’re supposed to have fun at parties right?” There’s a very tall boy blocking your view of the makeshift dance floor and you internally groan, before looking up.

“What?” You reply annoyed.

“Parties! You’re supposed to have fun. Drink, dance, make out with a few people.” He says happily and kicks the couple to your left off the sofa, taking their space.

“So, why aren’t you doing any of those things?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“Because you looked sad.” He says suddenly more serious and you stare at him confused.

“You don’t know me.”

“I still know a sad girl when I see one. So come on, why aren’t you showing off your dance moves?” He asks with a wink making you roll your eyes and stare straight ahead again. “Come on.” He nudges your shoulder softly but you keep looking in front of you. “Come on.” He nudges you again. “Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on.” He pokes your leg and this time you groan audibly, unable to keep in how annoyed you actually are.

“Will you leave me alone if I tell you?”

“Yeah.” He says quickly making you sigh. He sits up a little bit, like he’s a child about to hear a story and you can’t help but roll your eyes at how ridiculous this whole situation is. Who even is this guy?

“First. Tell me who you are.”

“Sweet Pea. Lovely to meet you.” He sticks his hand out towards you and you stare at him.

“Sweet Pea?” You repeat.

“Yep.” He shrugs. “Now tell me whats wrong...”

“Y/n.”

“Tell me whats wrong Y/n.”

“Well I’m going through a very bad breakup and my ex is here with his new girlfriend. And all of my friends are here but I’ve kind of been avoiding them for the past three weeks because I don’t know how to talk about my feelings so they’s chose him over me and I’m all alone.”

“Wow.” He mumbles. “Was not expecting that.”

“I guessed.” You mutter. “Now can you leave me alone?”

“No.” He shakes his head and lies back a little, stretching his arms out across the back of the sofa and slouching a little.

“What?” You blink. “Why not.”

“Because no one should be alone, especially if they’re going through a break up. So I’m gonna hang out with you. And if you want to talk I’m he-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” You warn. You’re sick to death of that stupid sentence.

“Okay.” He holds his hands up. “But I am here.” He adds quickly making you glare at him. “Talking can help. And I’m a great problem solver. Maybe if you talk through your problems you won’t feel as sad.”

“I’m sorry. Are you a licensed therapist?” You ask sarcastically.

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Well then stop trying to give me advice I didn’t ask for.” You snap making him sigh. A few minutes go by, the two of you staring at random people dancing and singing and kissing until finally you give in. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this.”

“Its fine.” He shrugs. “I get it. We’ve all been there.”

“Its just sucks you know?”

“What does?”

“You give your whole heart to someone. Like you’re entire self. They’re always with you, you share literally everything with them and then one day they’re not. And you fight for them to stay, you do literally everything you can so they don’t leave you. And then they leave you. And it just sucks. Because then what are you supposed to do? Sit around and be sad? Move on? Cry all the time? God, I hate crying.” You wipe the tears from your face quickly before looking back at him. “Anyway, thats as much as you’re getting from me. I’m never telling anybody else my feeling ever again. Its too much.” You add and he chuckles.

“Okay.” He nods. “You don’t have to.”

“Good.” You sip your warm drink, your face scrunching as it burns that back of your throat.

“Do you want my advice?”

“Sure, great problem solver. Lets see what you’ve got.” You tease.

“I don’t know why you broke up or who’s fault it was, if any. But what I do know is that you fought for him. You did everything you could for him to forgive you, but in the end it was up to him to make that final decision. And he decided that it was time to end what you two had.”

“I thought this was supposed to make me feel better.” You interrupt and he stares at you unamused.

“I’m getting there.” He grumbles and you have to hide your smile.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway. I know it doesn’t seem like this right now, especially when you’re sat at Mantle’s party, sober, alone and sad, but its a good thing. You two met and made memories, memories that when you look back on in a few years are going to make you happy. Make you think, ‘yeah, I’m glad I did that with him.’ But you have to realize, you have your entire life to make more memories, with so many other people. Plus, look at him. He’s happy, even if its not with you, he’s still happy. And he’s going to go on and make great memories with someone who loves hi-”

“Still not helping.”

“And eventually. You’re going to do the same thing. You will be happy again Y/n Y/l/n. I know it. I can feel it in my bones.”

“You can feel it in your bones?” You scoff.

“Hey! That is a family tradition. Everyone I’m related to can feel things in their bones. And they’re usually right.”

“Sure they are.”

“They are. You can ask them yourself if you want.” He argues.

“Yeah, I’m good. I don’t want to talk to some random boys family.”

“We’re not strangers. I told you about my bones...we’re friends for life now. You could say we’ve boned.” He wiggles his eyebrows making you fake gag.

“Thats disgusting.”

“Oh, that was funny and you know it.” He throws his arms up in the air.

“Sure it was.” You shake your head but there’s a hint of a smile hiding behind your frown which makes Sweet Pea smile triumphantly.

“You know you don’t have to keep all your feelings in right? Its okay to talk to people.”

“I don’t want to be a bother to them. Plus it makes me feel vulnerable and exposed and everything I don’t like. And I talked to him about my feelings and look where we are now.”

“Sometimes being vulnerable is good. It allows us to be helped.” He replies.

“Were your parents hippies or are you just really high right now?”

“Honestly?” He asks and you nod. “A bit of both.” He whispers making himself giggle, and to both of your surprises, you actually smile. “Wait, you’re not a cop right?”

“No.” You shake your head.

“Good.” He smiles to himself. “I’m really hungry.”

“Same. Apparently talking to people about my feelings makes me super hungry.”

“Hmm. You learn something new about yourself every day. Do you want to go to Pops?” He asks.

You look around the room. Your friends are happy, busy wrapped up in each other and having fun. Your ex is in the corner, his new girlfriend by his side the two of them talking and laughing with each other. The first time you looked at this scene you felt alone, so lonely in fact that if you disappeared into thin air nobody would notice. But now you have a feeling that maybe just one person might.

And even though he isn’t going to fix all your problems, he can fix two. The fact that you’re hungry, and most importantly the fact that you’re lonely. Or at least you were.

“Sure.” You nod and he smiles, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the large group of teens. As soon as your outside, the darkness of night envelops the two of you as you start to walk towards Pop’s, occasionally being illuminated by the street lamps or a passing car. Every so often he’ll glance at you and you’ll smile back at him.

Both of you glad you’re not as alone as you thought you were in the world.

“Come on, we better hurry.” He looks up at the night sky.

“Why?” You ask concerned and look around.

“Its gonna rain...I can feel it in my bones.” He replies and as soon he finishes his sentence the rain starts, instantly soaking the two of you. “See. I told you. You’re gonna be okay Y/n.”

#riverdale #riverdale imagine #sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #jordan connor #jordan connor imagine #jordan connor x reader

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