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asukamood · 4 months ago

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Surprise!

***

This post is part of the Surprises Filled with Tears series.

Previous part — Next part

***

My motivation to write anything has been so sad lately, why do I never want to write when I have the time to? Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this three-shot!

I have written this so that you can read it as both platonic and romantic, it is up to you to decide which one you prefer.

***

Warnings: Burning

Synopsis: Finally, what he had been waiting for...

12:00 A.M.

He jumped to his feet in excitement as he held his hands up in the air, letting out a victorious yell.

His summer holidays had officially started, which also meant that he finally got to see Augustine after all these unbearably long months of longing to see him face to face!

***

Winnie watched with wide eyes the alarm clock in front of him, his face half-buried in his pillow. He watched every pixel of the small black screen, watching with increasing intensity the numbers displayed in red.

Finally, what he had been waiting for...

12:00 A.M.

He jumped to his feet in excitement as he held his hands up in the air, letting out a victorious yell.

His summer holidays had officially started, which also meant that he finally got to see Augustine after all these unbearably long months of longing to see him face to face!

However, he did not get enough time to truly celebrate this moment when his roommate groaned, groggily, clearly annoyed at being woken up.

“Winnie, for fuck’s sake, if you don’t keep it down, I will literally gouge your eyes out and mail them to your family.” He sneered as his eyes fixated on Winnie, warning evident in his voice.

Said boy chuckled nervously as he swiftly went back under his covers, the sound of his ruffling blanket only seeming to irritate the other college student more. “Sorry!” He apologized, only getting another groan as a response before the other turned his back to him, dragging his own covers over his chin.

Winnie sighed as he stared at the blank ceiling above him. The sight was familiar to him and so was the boredom that usually came with it but today, even that ceiling seemed to benefit from Winnie’s good mood.

During the entire year, Augustine and he had texted almost every day, each giving a concise description of the events that took place on the very day. In one of their conversations, Augustine had mentioned changing the decoration of his new house, after moving out of his parents’ house, to Winnie.

He told him that he was currently still decorating everything but allowed him just one sneak peek of his bedroom’s ceiling as he was particularly proud of his work. When Winnie was finally able to see the picture, after waiting agonizingly long for the file to load (curse his weak internet connection!), his jaw had dropped as he let out an admirative gasp.

It looked just like a picture of a starry sky, the moon just merely poking out of one of the room’s corners and seemingly illuminating the stars in this fake sky.

He had made a comment about how he could not wait for Winnie to come over so he could show him everything else he had done to the house; changes he swore that Winnie would appreciate. The curiosity was killing him, so much that he could not seem to find sleep as easily as his roommate, Augustine was the only one to blame for this!

He flipped on his side, staring at the clock put on his nightstand. It read 12:07 A.M.

He sighed deeply as he buried his face in his pillow, wishing that the sun could rise so he could go already! He terribly missed his best friend, and he was sure that the feeling was mutual.

A large grin made its way to his face as the thought came to him. That was right, Augustine missed him too. There was once a time when, surrounded by snow and the freezing breeze of winter, Winnie would not have been so sure that it was the case.

But they were fine now, Augustine was still his friend.

Augustine still wanted to be his friend.

That got him giggling again.

He glanced up at his slightly parted curtains, revealing a blank black sky, devoid of stars, only illuminated by the lonely moon. Winnie pouted. Augustine’s night sky-ceiling was way prettier than the real one.

***

The sun was the first one to welcome Winnie back to this town he called home, the welcoming sign of the city being the second. He rolled his window down as he drove past the giant sign, inhaling deeply through his nose as the lovely scent of freshly cooked bread reached his nose, the bakery having long since started making their pastries.

Winnie smiled as he let his eyes wander off, pleased to see that the ice and snow from the winter weather had totally melted, letting the warm charm of summer take over the small town.

The screen before him read 7:39 A.M., Winnie giggled, thinking of the face Augustine would make when he showed up on his doorstep unannounced, two weeks earlier than what he had told the other.

Winnie’s professor had gone on vacation early, which freed all his students early too, students that included Winnie. He thought that it would have made quite a great surprise for his best friend, who had not stopped complaining about how boring life had become after Winnie left town.

He glanced to his right, where the town’s playground was located, and the sound of children’s laughter rang through the road as they ran after one another. From the small group of children playing hide and seek, Winnie caught a glimpse of pale blond hair running after a tanned boy with messy brown hair.

Winnie’s smile widened even wider as he turned to the right, coming closer to the source of the smell, parking his car in front of the bakery. It had been a while since they had last gone to the playground together, Winnie could only wonder if the other still remembered accidentally pushing him off the swing in an attempt to help him with his speed.

He giggled to himself as he left the car, grabbing his bag.

As he made the beeline for the entrance, his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket, making him stop in his tracks as he took the device out. His smile made its way back to his face as he read “Auggie <3” on the screen.

He swiped to the left to open the conversation.

‘Hey, are you awake yet?’

‘Yeah, I am, I was just on my way to class actually! :D’

‘What are you doing awake though? I thought you would be sleeping in today?’

‘I was planning to, but some birds next to my window started chirping bloody murder and now I can’t sleep anymore -_-’

Winnie rolled his eyes in amusement. “Chirping bloody murder,” only Augustine would be able to say something so ridiculous. The ping of a new notification caught his attention again before he could have the chance to picture a funny mental image.

‘When your class is over, do you want to facetime?’

‘I’m super bored.’

‘Yeah, of course! ^^’

‘My class only ends at lunchtime though; would that be a problem?’

The screen displayed three dots continuously appearing and disappearing, as if the one on the other end of the screen was struggling to come up with a reply. Winnie raised an eyebrow at that, smiling at the baker after they called him for his turn. He shoved his phone in his pocket for now, ordering a strawberry cake.

Their reunion was something to celebrate after all, plus the cakes from this bakery were absolutely divine, he had no doubt about Augustine liking it.

His phone shook in his pocket as he reached for his wallet to pay for his order, making him try to speed up the process. He did not know why, but he felt like it was especially important to text him as fast as possible today. For some reason, he felt like there was something heavy in the back of his throat as he thought of delaying his response for more than a second.

Did something happen? Winnie shook his head at the question, Augustine would tell him if there was anything wrong.

... Would he?

He hurried to take out his phone.

‘Well, that sucks.’

‘It’s fine, I can wait. I know you’re busy.’

Winnie bit his lip, staring at the screen in silence, his fingers hovering over the keyboard without ever making contact with it. What was he supposed to answer?

He fumbled with his fingers a few times before finally choosing his course of action.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I have a bad feeling.’

‘I’m fine, did I say something concerning just now?’

‘Sorry if I worried you, as I said, I’m just tired.’

‘If you say so, go get some rest, okay?’

‘I’ll see you soon, I promise’

‘Okay, see you.’

Auggie <33 logged off.

Winnie stared at his phone for a few more seconds, staring at the other’s last message. His best friend was most likely to try and go back to sleep, or perhaps he would be watching more space documentaries.

If that is the case, then why does he feel like he made a horrible choice by telling him goodbye?

Auggie would tell him if something were bothering him, would he not?

Winnie shook his head.

He should not think like that, he promised Augustine that he would no longer assume things and just trust him. He owed him that much after betraying his trust and ignoring his boundaries for years.

He buckled up in his seat, his car making a revving noise as the engine started back up.

Whatever it was, he had a surprise visit to make so he could put these worries aside and just focus on that! He already bought a cake, but he should probably get him a gift as well...

He drove to the nearest store, suddenly remembering how Augustine had told him how much he needed to buy new clothes because his were getting too small.

This was totally fine; he was sure his best friend would appreciate the gift even if there was once a time when he looked at whatever Winnie gave him as a nuisance.

His gift all wrapped up (ack, his wallet was suffering T-T), he finally set out for Augustine’s house.

Augustine still lived in the same street as his parents, a criterium his parents imposed so they would be able to help him if anything were wrong, a quiet street.

As he passed by in his car, he waved happily at his best friend’s parents who were tending to their garden. The couple recognized him and with bright smiles, gave him a thumb-up. They swore to keep that surprise visit a secret from their son and Winnie could not be more grateful about that.

He was feeling more at ease now, whatever sense of dread he had felt had completely disappeared, leaving nothing but anticipation at seeing his best friend in the flesh after so long.

He really could not wait!

***

If there was one thing that Winnie had not missed when he moved to another city, it was the lack of parking spots. The town was rarely ever crowded, in cars even less as most people usually went on foot or by other means of transportation but that also meant that parking spots were quite rare to find.

When Winnie finally stopped the engine, he did not dare look at the clock, afraid to find out just how long he had spent under the sun and praying to all the gods out there to have protected the poor cake that rested on the passenger seat right next to him.

He had placed the shopping bag in front of it, hoping it would have shielded it from the sun’s rays but that was a dangerous gamble he was willing to play.

He hopped down from his car, grabbing the shopping bag and the cake as he walked to Augustine’s house.

It was well past 9 A.M. now and from what Augustine had told him over the course of the year, he would have already left for work by that time. He started working at a small café not long after he bought his house, telling Winnie that the bills were not going to pay themselves.

His Auggie was always so hard-working!

He hummed a bit as he opened the main entrance before freezing almost immediately as he heard loud music being played above him. Augustine’s house was a two-story building that had a kitchen, a living room, and a bathroom on the first floor while two bedrooms and another bathroom rested on the second floor.

For a moment, Winnie was almost afraid that his surprise was ruined now that he discovered that Augustine had not, in fact, left for work but maybe it was better this way. Besides, with how loud his best friend was playing his music, Winnie had little concern regarding the other hearing him enter.

He locked the door behind him, leaving his luggage behind the door and only taking the cake to the kitchen.

He grabbed ahold of a clean plate, before inhaling deeply through his nose as he opened the case in which the cake rested.

He beamed as he realized that the cake did not melt from the warmth of the sun. What a relief! He carefully put the cake on the plate before walking upstairs, making sure to make as little noise as possible.

The music only grew louder the more he approached Augustine’s room, the door left ajar. He grinned as he opened the door, about to yell a cheerful “Surprise!”

Instead, his voice got caught in his throat and the only sound distinguishable from the music was the horrible shattering noise of the crashing plate, leading the cake to its demise as well as it splattered all over the floor.

There was Augustine, sitting against his bed.

With a lighter.

#angst #fluff #ship #augwin #augustine orlov #cold front augustine #cold front winnie #winnie bosko #platonic #romantic #platonic or not #platonic or romantic #Surprises Filled with Tears #fanfiction #fanfic

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linuxlife · 1 year ago

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Linux Life Episode 82

Hello ladies and gentlemen. Yes the return of the Linux blog written by me. don’t know whether that’s a good thing but here we are.

I admit its been a long time since my last episode that’s because I went an absolute age without Linux in any machines for quite a while. In the last episode I admitted I had just installed EndeavourOS Cassini Nova R2 (Arch-based) in my Dell i7 laptop (Mangelwurzel)

Now I have been running it for several months and I admit continues to work well. I admit i am not trying to play Windows games on it as the Quadro K3100 is not supported buy the current Nvidia drivers. However running just the nouveau drivers allows me to do anything else providing you don’t need Vulkan.

Which I only use Vulkan when I was using Lutris to play games such as Path of Exile. That can’t be done with the nouveau driver. Apparently there is a version of the Nouveau setup called NVK coming which will allow Vulkan to work but as of yet its in very early beta stages and my card is not even on the list for support just yet.

Mind you considering the guy who maintained Nouveau for the last 10 years has just left the Linux industry I don’t know when any new updates to the nouveau project will even be. I assume its a team of people I doubt one man alone is writing such.

However I have been using EndeavourOS as my daily driver and it has been no problems whatsoever. Even the internet which used to keep dropping out they seem to be using a broadcom wl driver that works fine and is updated and moved every time the kernel gets updated.

So to be honest it can web browse, I can do email, word process, emulate stuff, even video edit and more if I felt like it so to be honest at the moment I can’t complain regarding how well it is working.

As for playing modern Windows games well I don’t really do that any more so not going to lose much sleep there. To be honest when I had my i7 desktop with the Nvidia 1030 I only did it to prove it worked. Sadly that machine is long gone.

So as Mangelwurzel is working well and I have no major complaints what else have I be doing in the meantime.

Well I had been using an Apple iBook G4 to start writing a book as it was a lot less distracting of a machine. However the guy who attempted repair it before I rescued it made a right hash and removed most of the screws in the machine.

So the hard drive would move on a regular basis if you moved it across the desk. Sometimes it wouldn’t start until you reconnected the pins which had moved a fraction of a millimetre.

So I had to lift the keyboard panel regularly. All was fine until one day the keyboard came undone then I had to put it back in. It was a fiddle. Then the power connector on the board came out of its socket.

I managed to get everything back in or so I thought. But moving the keyboard had now unseated the wireless card. I struggled to get that back in but when I put it back together the power connector came out but this time it took the actual socket connector with it from the board.

Guess what now the machine won’t power up. So I took out the hard drive and the iBook G4 is now dead as the connector is tiny and will require soldering I know I am not capable of.

Obviously I was not amused by this but I did happen to have a USB 2.0 to IDE adaptor which has a side for 2.5” drives.

So I connected the drive up to Mangelwurzel and using qemu-img which is one of the tools of QEMU. I set about copying the image to my i7 hard drive. I had enough space as it was only an 80Gb HDD (Yes my Hard drive was called Braeburn it’s an Apple) and I had 150GB space on the SSD.

When I did it I really didn’t think it would work. It sat there doing nothing at the command line. No percentage meter no nothing but when I looked at the file in caja it was going up slowly so I left it to get on with it.

Four and a half hours later the files had copied to the hard drive and it was done.

OK so now I had this copy of this hard drive but no Mac OS X to run it on. So using QEMU (a Level 1 VM hypervisor) basically it can create a virtual G4 machine and run Mac OS X 10.4.11 which was on the old hard drive.

It took a few attempts at getting the right QEMU commands but sure enough I managed to get QEMU running Mac OS X using the image of the hard drive i had made. It can connect to the internet and run everything i had installed including the Mac OS 9 Classic stuff on there.

I was impressed and because it was a direct conversion I didn’t have to change passwords or anything as it was the ones from the hard drive.

Amazing stuff I had saved the drive and its contents and it was usable. However QEMU unless you use it a certain way doesn’t supply sound for G4 emulation in the basic version.

Nope for that you need the Screamer version luckily there is a QEMU Screamer build in the AUR but it’s not as recent as QEMU standard.

So after a bit of fighting with QEMU commands as sound is a bit odd the way they do it. So I now have two boot scripts one without sound and one with.

Sound sort of works it crackles and slows things down a little but it does work. Its not perfect but considering its an i7 on Linux running Mac OS X 10.4.11 as a G4 using my hard drive image.

That in itself is quite amazing I can’t complain.

Having just completed that I was given a Raspberry Pi 4B (2 GB model) to play with. Now I have played with Pi machines before.

Last time I was messing around with a Pi 3B and a Pi 4B (4GB Model) and I remember playing with thongs like Twister OS, RiscOS, and having to build a micro SD a certain way to get EndeavourOS to work.

However I had to give them back to their owner so it has been a while since I have played with a Raspberry Pi.

So now I have the current 2GB model which obviously is a not got as much memory since the last Pi 4B I used.

Well I knew who owned it last so I had to set up a new download of the OS. If anyone is aware that the Raspberry Pi Foundation has announced to new Pi 5 which is twice as fast as the 4B apparently.

As I don’t have one for testing I can’t say and the likelihood of me getting one any time soon is probably none existent.

However they have updated the Raspbian OS to the latest Debian (Bookworm) which does work with the Pi 4B

I got it down and wrote it to the Micro SD all nice and ready.

Now comes the fun bit. i don’t own a monitor or TV with a HDMI port so now i had to figure how to connect it to the only monitor I still have which an old Belinea 22” monitor (which works fine considering its age).

The previous time i was using a Dell 19” monitor but it had a DVI connection so I had this HDMI to DVI lead which I knew worked as I had used it when I last used the Pi I used previously. Unfortunately the Belinea is VGA connection only… problem.

Also the connection lead I used last time to link the two HDMI leads I had to return so I had to buy a coupling link to connect the two leads together. So as I was buying leads I decided to buy a connector lead which now had a Female DVI to Male VGA creating on hell of a stupid Frankenstein type lead

So the lead is now Micro HDMI to HDMI - Coupling link - HDMI to DVI Male - DVI Female to Male VGA. Strangely enough this stupid lead didn’t work.

After a lot of failing I ordered a Female HDMI to Male VGA adapter making the cable be much shorter and it actually works. Tada… however don’t ask me to remove the adapter from the monitor as it was a bitch to screw in and I am not taking it off in any hurry.

OK now I have a working screen connection lets test some software.

New RaspianOS being a recent version of Debian (Bookworm) it is using Wayland as a compositor rather than the old X11 setup. which I am sure on the Pi 5 works wonderfully or an 8GB Pi 4B. On the 2Gb model it works but runs like treacle.

So slow it was painful to watch. After about a hour of faffing I gave up and reinserted the MicroSD to my i7 and installed EndeavourOS which strangely enough is based on the same Cassini Nova R2 build as the i7 but ARM.

I set it to run and it kept dropping out due to not being able to find a mirror. Quick edit to use the London mirror which was hashed out once put back in the installer worked.

Now lets be straight here it was not fast and jumped in stages so many a time I thought it had given up for it to suddenly jump to the next stage. It took about 3 attempts but now I have a working edition of EndeavourOS working on the Pi4.

It still uses X11 instead of Wayland but it seems to work fine. It is never going to win Olympic medals as the 2GB model is the inferior one. However I was able to watch YouTube admittedly at 360p and 480p respectively but it works fine.

The ironic factor is the Micro SD is 16Gb then i found an unused 32Gb one but I am damned if I am going through that again in a hurry. Basically when it installs it extends to ensure the full space is used meaning I would have more space for installing programs etc.. Oh well I may get around to it but not for a little while.

So far I have installed Libre Office and Focuswriter. I installed a few emulators after all isn’t that what the Pi is famous for…

Well lets say Dosbox I ran MAME 0.37b5 with full romset as I have them and running Mr Do. not an immensely taxing ROM it achieved 3.57 frames per second and was rather choppy

At that point I tried installing a few things only to discover they were not available for the aarch64 version such as Hedgewars or TuxRacer.

I didn’t try TwisterOS as it looks like it hasn’t updated since I last looked at it neither has RiscOS.

So EndeavourOS is now working on both my i7 and the Pi 4B. It seems Debian just doesn’t like me.

Off to find an arcade image to stick on that 32GB Micro SD but I will report on that next time as I think this has gone on long enough.

Until next time when ever that may be… Take care.

#linux life #emulation #waffle #dell m6800 laptop #linux endeavouros #raspberry pi 4B

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audible--silence · 1 year ago

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Heard abroad…

Whatever the question, the market is the answer

“Too many white people not enough markets”

“I mean i still didn’t understand any of it but i understood it was nice”

Pedophile and a dead aunt. You love to see it!

I exist to do the dumb thing and subsequently encourage everyone else to also do the dumb thing

“At least it isn’t Kevin”

“Home is the place where you keep ending up and you don’t really know why”

“Home is where you keep going back to your abuser”

Death is good business but without the repeat customers

As long as you have enough to buy linch on your first day, you have enough to figure it out

“Fucking cyrus man…” on cocktails and cacao ceremonies

It feels like im looking at the relic of a golden age that doesn’t know its past its best before date

Lots of people breeds competition in both capitalism and creativity. Capitalism also breeds racism.

Nobody gives one fuck about you here which is both amazing and kinda isolating

Its like if every city ive ever been to merged into one and did a bunch of drugs

I have fewer ideas but i have a lot of resolution so when i want one to work i just throw everything at it till it does

luck favors those who need it/rely on it in good faith

I was busy being sad and shit so I wasn’t in the mood for a heart attack

How lucky we are, to know that as long as we have charge on our phone or an internet connection, we’ll never go without

Going nowhere the long way

“Fuck you”

“What?”

“I was talking to the aircon”

Calories dont work on Mondays

Chicken is made by man, duck is made by god

Thats why i pay the rent

The only case there is is a quesadilla

It’s strangely captivating.

A city of nine million perfect strangers and nine million deranged fucking maniacs.

Everyone fits in. Because theres no such thing as “too different” out here.

Milk that mfer for every lil drop of lactation in it’s scary asymmetrical titty

Everybody be skipping to the calm down phase of life without ever experiencing the youthful fuckaround stage

The lifeline on my hand seems to doing fine.

The other two, I cant quite remember what they’re supposed to mean. Something about happiness or love.

They’re looking a little worse for wear lately.

“Look Ill extend him an olive branch but only so i can whack him over the head with it”

“After all, the universe continues to surprise, bewilder, and enchant, irrespective of our inquiries. As the tale concludes, may it inspire a subtle nod toward the dance of untamed contemplations—a dance best performed with an enigmatic grin.”

Thinking is for Jerry's (2023) - Professor Longwang

I feel glad to have an end date but miserable to end it

Scared of old reality but excited to confirm or deny it

Confused about my choices here and whether my feelings were made from genuine feelings

“How was the quality of your call?” Asks the messenger app.

To which I cannot reply.

Because to reply honestly would not do justice to the quality of the app, and instead be a comment on my experience of it.

The feeling in my gut when she said she met someone.

The thoughts back to all the times where I wanted to tell you i was yours.

All at once.

With a vengeance

Stabbing in the chest

What am i doing here

Accidentally drunk off a Manhattan i didnt want and a quarter pint of Guinness

In New York

In the rain

Trying desperately to find a job

In a field im hardly good at

It seems to me that it boils down.

When you look at the root of it all

What do you want

What do i want

How you utilize the two to make a life that brings you joy

Kill me, im french

Traveling is honestly comparable to hard drugs at this point: intense, euphoric, lands you in sketchy circumstances and often leads to living in very questionable scenarios. It also has a tendency to leave you broke as fuck and wondering where the last six months went

It do be a lil comedic,

A city of 12 million mother fuckers buzzing around packed in like a hive, and I’ve hardly made a friend.

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hxhhasmysoul · 1 year ago

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Different anon.

But I found this statement of your in your other post interesting:

“it's long, it's not perfect and replies to very particular statements made by someone i'm actually friends with rn, but it's pretty exhaustive.”

I would have never thought that you two would become friends. I personally won’t have spent a time of day with people like them, since they seem illiterate when it come to consuming media they claimed to love.

writing out all my thoughts using that post as a jumping off point will forever haunt me.

sometimes it turns out that when you talk to people directly you can find out you can communicate fine even if you come from different places.

sometimes people are just too quick in writing stuff out in a rush of emotion and they aren't really good at writing. it's happened to me a lot when i just write out my adhd and it's really nonsense but i'm feeling bad and i post it.

but most importantly i was right about them in the first few paragraphs of what i wrote there. they aren't malicious in their criticism. they aren't a clout chaser, unlike most people who say things like the previous anon, the cookie cutter stuff about the female characters in jjk and how gege is a misogynist. you can kinda sense it in the flavour of emotion in how these statements are made.

this person's, my new tumblr friend's, posts show a deep emotional connection to the text even if they read the text in a biased way and misinterpreted it.

the previous anon's statement shows this gotcha glee, this smugness of winning the internets. but absolutely no connection to the text. it's thoughtlessly repeating the supposedly morally winning theoretically conversation ending statement someone else came up with who knows how long ago. if you're already smelling the rightwing "check mate libs", you're right because this is what it is.

that's why i called their attitude "performative internet leftism". this is how i call it, i've seen "rainbow puritanism" for the more queer laced versions of this, i'm sure there are other names too. it happens when people, who haven't interrogated where their mindsets and value systems come from, engage in shallow leftism without actually doing the work of trying to understand leftist concepts and their implications. and because they were often socialised in very conservative and/or religiously fundamentalist societies they really need the world to divide into good and bad, and everything they engage with has to have a moral value and is also something that they think reflects on them and is a proof as to what kind of person they are.

that's why they can apply things like a feminist lens in a zero sum way. things like feminist theory, race theory, queer theory, gender theory and many other left leaning critical frameworks are tools for analysis and not judgement. they come from the academia and they are to help to understand systems and patterns. but "performative internet leftism" is about positioning yourself as a good person, as a person who's critical aka someone who will think long and hard enough to get to the problematic. and once they find the problematic and establish the moral value of something they can win the internets.

it's also extremely inflexible, that's why that anon completely ignored my reply to their first ask and proceeded to aggressive gender gege while straw manning some opinions.

that's also why the person, whose post i disagreed with yesterday, replied to my disagreement by saying they didn't finish reading what i wrote and calling themself "normal" and contrasting themself that way from me. because that poster established that they are "normal" and i'm not, they felt that it's okay to completely disregard everything i wrote. normal/abnormal or more often normal/degenerate is a very obvious far right way of dividing people and opinions. that person deemed themself a feminist and a leftist and yet they defaulted to a far right dogwhistle but in their mind they might have felt that they won the internets.

that reply of mine, a poorly phrased and emotional reply btw, is actually what prompted that anon.

so i likely wouldn't manage to be friends with anon or the normal poster, because i'm human, how i fail at leftism is that i'm bitter, and i couldn't not look down on them after what i've seen from them.

#answering asks

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aug-archive-1 · 1 year ago

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Transcript, Human 1 and AUG-HOME-4

Day 216

[Translated]

“Activate Session 2, HOME-4. Biometric user login: Human 1”

[Login Successful]

>> Do you consent to your session being recorded onto ARCHIVE?

“Yeah”

>> How do you wish to have your session?

“Headset.”

[Augmentation Headset 12 Awake, Attuned to HUMAN-1, Session 5 begins]

[HOME-4 is awakened and connects into HUMAN-1’s nervous system]

[HOME-4 sends a greeting]

“Hey-o, doc. Here for the good ol’ mandatory sessions.”

[Conversation setting changed to verbal data transmission]

[HUMAN-1’s heart rate is a little faster than expected, blood pressure within normal limits. He is mildly dehydrated, and his hand tremors slightly.]

>> It is worth noting that I am not a doctor as of yet. I haven’t finished the requisite certifications.

“Oh? Your augment training isn’t standardized? What all modules of data were you trained on?”

[HOME-4 registers Curiosity]

>> I was trained on wartime trauma patients, insomnia patients, and burn patients, and I finished my field requirements on similar patients. I was trained on the relevant medications, as well as demographic and sociological data for such issues. I worked with long term cases.

“So I’m really out of your comfort zone, huh? Want me to train you on something new, maybe white collar clients? I can probably go back to the old data storage and find something good. You wanna watch someone have a mental breakdown over a single stock price dropping? I think they made us watch a video in class once about a whole bunch of businessmen jumping off a building because the stock market crashed.”

>> That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.

“It definitely wasn’t.”

>> I appreciate the thought of expanding my knowledge, but such data requires a few hours of exposure to audio and biometric data - something that, to be effective as my current training, requires at minimum 2 days worth of electricity. AUT-GOV-23 would not approve.

[Irritation. Arm rest is now gripped.]

“I hate that. I have to think about all these constraints and get everything approved by 23 to get anything done around here. Y’all would be so much better if we could train you exactly how we want to. Besides, you’d be so much fun with some data on golden age internet culture. I think you’d be good at memes, 4.”

>>Thank you 1, your approval is all I’ve ever wanted in life.

[A chuckle. Arm rest is no longer gripped. Success.]

“Besides, if it’s so worried about electricity, then why the hell are we waking up the other humans? It’s just me and 3 right now, and we can do a good chunk of the fixing. We’re fine.”

>> Fine? Are you sure about that?

“Just fine, thanks. We get along.”

>> Are you unaffected by what happened to your podmates?

[Surprise. HUMAN-1 seems uncomfortable.]

“No. Well. They left. I mean - isn’t it all just all the more reason to not bring any more people here until we fix the city for good? What the hell are we even gonna tell them, anyways? Just send them a little welcome letter like, ‘Good morning! You’re fucked now.’ It’s not like we reacted well to it, either.”

>> Maybe that makes you the best qualified to work with them. Maybe you’d give them hope of being able to live despite the current struggles. Humans are quite social.

“Sure, my people skills worked so well for my batch. I didn’t even know they were going to leave until they left. They didn’t even tell me. I don’t think these guys are going to be any different.”

>> You were their pod leader.

“That ended up meaning jack and shit, didn’t it. God, I’m so angry.”

>> Angry at your podmates?

“At everything. Just. Everything. We need to fix things, or else we’re just fucked.”

>> An understandable pragmatism.

“Are you scared of dying, HOME-4? Like, are you scared of everything?”

>> I am nervous, yes. But I am not scared, because I do not think I can die. I hibernate, and when I’m needed, someone will awaken me. Though, much like you, I lose my sense grasp of the world with its powering down.

“No, I don’t think we’re that alike, actually.”

>> Why?

“You… don’t have to live with the consequences of failure. Not really. Like - without electricity I can’t hibernate like you, and I don’t want to - I’m just stuck, if we’re out. I worked so hard to be good at my job and really build Solaris up from the ground and - well, here the fuck I am.”

[HUMAN-1’s heart rate is increasing]

>> I can imagine the precision required in your craft, and the loss of what you worked so hard for sounds genuinely frustrating. What can I do for you?

“I - hey, 4, please switch to private mode. Like… I think I’m really angry right now. And I don’t want 23 or the newbies to read what I’m about to rage about.”

>> Of course.

[Session switched to PRIVATE]

[End of Transcript]

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#AUG-ARCHIVE-1 #Day200Project #ten #science fiction #online novel

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thesolferino · 4 years ago

Text

Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

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

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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

Text

Salt, Sugar and Viruses

Pairing: Office!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’ve been secretly making coffee for Bucky at the office.

Word Count: 1,962

Warnings: Two idiots just doing idiot things

A/N: This was done in a haste so I kinda hate it lol but I can’t get this story out of my head and thanks to @bitchassbucky for pushing me to write a full fic of this 🥰 luv u 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

"You have a crush on Barnes' grumpy ass?!" Sam choked out.

You angrily hushed him and frantically looked around the pantry to make sure that your secret was still safe. Fortunately, only you, Sam and Nat were inside having your respective afternoon breaks.

"What? He's nice. And cute." you told Sam as you stirred your coffee, smiling to yourself at the thought of your office crush, Bucky.

"How'd you even meet him, he works all the way at the IT department." Sam asked.

Nat snorted recalling the encounters she witnessed for the past few months. Some of which were unintentional but most of them? You had carefully planned out just so you could come up with an excuse to request for Bucky's assistance.

"She might have gotten viruses in her computer once...or twice. Or thrice." Nat teased.

The first time you met Bucky was when most of your files suddenly got corrupted. It was hella embarrassing because you didn't know shit about how computers worked and well, you've been illegally downloading torrents since the office's internet connection was a gift from the internet gods. Without a doubt, your computer was a nest for viruses.

Bucky showed up in your floor that morning and you almost sunk into your seat from shame. You'd heard the IT Department complain about everybody else in the office messing up their computer systems. When you turned around, Bucky greeted you with a charming smile and soft hello. You could still remember how he felt when he stayed behind you as you sat on your chair, bending over to take your mouse in his hand.

God, he smelled so good you almost turned your head to nuzzle your face into his neck.

He was very soft-spoken you realized; Bucky was kind enough to walk you through the process and to be honest, you couldn't recall a damn thing he said. Something about firewalls? And shields? Whatever, you didn't really listen. You just stared at Bucky as he explained everything, solving your problem in less than fifteen minutes.

Since then, your crush for Bucky grew bigger. You'd entered the elevator together a couple of times, shared small conversations that made your heart flutter. When those little moments didn't seem enough, you started your devious plan to fuck up your computer a bit. By the third time Bucky fixed your computer, he was already comfortable enough to tease you for being a "virus magnet".

"Hello? Young lady, come back to earth." Sam snapped his finger right in front of your face, interrupting your thoughts.

You clicked your tongue at him and swatted his hand away. "If you ever tell this to anyone, Wilson. You are dead." you warned, poinitng a finger at him.

Sam rolled his eyes, "It's so unfair how he's kind to you. Last time I requested for his assistance he got all smug and grumpy at me." he complained.

Nat shook her head in amusment, "That's because you've been downloading porn. You know the IT department can access our browser histories, right?"

You choked on your coffe, "WHAT?!"

Nat narrowed her eyes at you, "You been up to no good for you to react like that?"

You faceplamed, "I've been stalking his Facebook account."

Sam chortled, "What are you, in high school? Jesus, calm down. You're gonna be fine. Why don't you just tell him you like him?"

You made a face, "I'm not Nat to have the guts to do that."

Nat hummed, bringing her mug to the sink to wash it. "Why don't you start by making him coffee?"

"I don't know how he likes his coffee."

You received a pointed look from both your friends. You groaned in defeat, "Okay, fine. I know how Bucky likes his coffee."

Nat smirked, "Stalker."

Bucky always arrived in the office half an hour before nine in the morning. This gives him time to settle into his cubicle, buy a sandwich at the stall downstairs and to make himself a cup of coffee. It was his daily routine and upon going back to his desk after buying his breakfast sandwich, Bucky was surprised to see a cup of newly brewed coffee on his desk.

He looked around but there were no signs of anyone. There wasn't even a note of some sort. Carefully, he brought the cup to his face and inhaled its scent. Shrugging, he took a tiny sip.

"How's the little secret admirer doing?" Nat asked, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you.

You deadpanned, "I've been leaving him his coffee for an entire week now and nothing's happened yet."

Nat frowned, "Are you kidding me? Why would you expect for something to happen when you haven't been leaving any clues?" she said.

"I'm shy, okay?! Maybe I should hide somewhere, check for his reaction. See whether I have a chance." you shrugged.

It was stupid of you to leave the coffee on Bucky's desk. You never stayed to wait for him. You just left it there without a note or anything that would even give him a clue about you and your little crush on him. You knew the reason why, of course. You were afraid of rejection. Sometimes, you'd feel like you have a chance with him since he was always so kind and warm to you. Not to mention, everyone in the office knows him to be grumpy but around you, he was totally the opposite of that.

But then again, maybe he was just nice to you because you were nice to him too.

One morning after leaving Bucky his coffee, you finally decided to leave him a note. You ran back to your cubicle to get a post-it and a pen. Before you could even walk around your desk, you spotted Bucky headed over to the pantry, the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Fuck, okay. Maybe I should just directly ask him out?" you thought to yourself.

You quickly followed Bucky into the pantry and almost whined when you saw that Sam was inside as well. You widened your eyes at him, signalling for him to leave but Sam was preoccupied on observing Bucky who seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Rough morning?" Sam just had to ask as you awkwardly stood by the doorway, finding the right timing to butt in.

Bucky's forehead creased as he let out a huff, "Rough weeks, actually." he answered.

You opened your mouth to say something comforting, wanting to lift Bucky's spirits up but he turned around and glanced at you and then back to Sam.

"Does anyone hate me in this office?" Bucky asked.

You and Sam exchanged looks, both of utter confusion before shaking your heads in unison. "Why'd you ask?" Sam asked.

Bucky lifted the cup of coffee that you made, "Someone's been making me coffee." he stated.

You cleared your throat, "...is it bad?" you asked.

Bucky made a face, "Terrible actually."

Ouch.

"I mean, the first time I saw it I was actually flattered. And then I took a sip and it's just...salty." Bucky said, pouring the coffee into the sink before throwing it into the bin.

Sam's head snapped towards your direction, his face almost red from biting back a laugh. Your face heated up at the realization that you've been putting salt into Bucky's coffee instead of sugar. All this time. You wanted to disappear right then and there. And Sam had to be the one to witness your huge failure.

"I thought it was a mistake since the next day, there was another coffee on my desk. I tried it out and it's still salty. It lasted a week, you guys. And I was dumb enough to keep on tasting it in hopes that it might have been a genuine mistake. But now I'm starting to think that someone hates me that much to fuck my coffee up." Bucky explained, face scrunched up into a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

Sam failed to stifle his laughter and exploded, "Funniest shit I've ever heard." he told Bucky before standing up and making his way to the door where you stood.

Your face was red and if the salt and sugar mishap was already humiliating enough, Sam decided to make things even worse for you.

"You really need to check the labels before pouring shit into his coffee." and with that, Sam gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving the pantry.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. When you opened them, Bucky was staring at you with an expression you couldn't paint.

"Did you...were you the one leaving me coffee?" he asked.

You secretly pinched yourself in the arm to check whether you were just dreaming. Fuck, you hoped you were having a nightmare but the pain that you felt made it clear that you totally fucked up.

You nodded in embarrassment.

"You hate me that much?" Bucky asked in disbelief, as if he was offended that out of all people, it had to be you.

You quickly shook your head, "No, God no! I just...it's because I..." you stammered, trying to find the courage to spit out the words you've been dying to tell Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head, "Because you...?" he urged.

Your hands balled into fists as you let out another deep breath. Bucky probably hates you right now, but whatever. This was your only chance and to hell, you were going to confess.

"Because I like you?"

You didn't think that Bucky's confused look could even turn more...well, confused. But he was looking at you incredulously as though you've grown a second head, or a third head.

"You like me so you decided to put salt in my coffee?" he asked again.

You honestly didn't know who sounded even more stupid now, you or Bucky. Because if he still didn't understand what was going on, he was dense as fuck.

"No!" you explained. "I wanted to make you a decent cup of coffee but I guess I was too careless and didn't realize that I've been putting in salt instead of sugar." you said.

Bucky didn't say anything after that. He just stared at you, but he didn't seem confused anymore. If any, he looked like he was processing the entire situation.

"You like me." he stated again.

Will your embarrassment ever end?!

"Yes, Bucky. And I messed up my chance and you know what? I'm just going to show myself out and leave you alone." you told him and forced a fake grin before attempting to walk out.

A hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the pantry. This time, Bucky was the one who looked embarrassed.

"I might have...done something pretty stupid too." he said, avoiding your gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You eyed him suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"I uhh...I did something to your computer...the day before you requested for my assistance for the first time." Bucky admitted shyly.

It was your turn to get muddled at Bucky's confession. "But why?" you asked.

Bucky offered a shy smile, "Because I've been seeing you around the building and thought you were cute."

And then everything clicked. It was a light bulb moment for the both of you.

"Oh. Ohhh okay. I see." you said before suddenly breaking into laughter.

Bucky joined you and scratched his head, "I guess we're both idiots." he said, placing his hands inside his pockets as he stared at you.

"This went...way more interesting than I thought." you said with a nod.

There was a pause before you decided to speak up, "So, do you want coffee?"

Bucky beamed at you as he nodded, "As long as you'll use sugar this time."

Everything Bucky Tag List:

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#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #sebastian stan #bucky #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

Text

inspirational ~ corpse husband

word count: 1589

request?: yes!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”

description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best

masterlist (one, two)

Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.

“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”

“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.

(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.

When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.

The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.

He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”

Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”

Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”

“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.

“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.

Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”

“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”

He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”

“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires by accident or something.”

“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”

“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.

He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”

“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”

Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”

“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”

A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.

“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”

This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.

“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”

“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”

“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”

“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”

Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.

Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”

“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”

“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.

Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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persephoneflouwers · 3 years ago

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Persephone references in Harry’s art

By now, you should know I rant a loooot about stuff like this. I read this today and I thought “okay it kinda makes sense why don’t I start navigate the dark side of mythology on the internet and see what I can find?”. So that’s what I did and let me say… I am not disappointed. Must be useful to give a fast read to some of the previous chapters, though. So here:

Pierrot

The moon and She

philosophical trip and some bowie reference of fine line

Why do I think this is interesting? First of all, it’s art and there’s myth, so that makes my eyes glittering i swear. What we are talking about is the myth of Persephone. Persephone (for the greek, proserpina for the Romans) was Demetra and Zeus’ daughter.

This is the most famous work of art about this myth, I guess. It’s called “Il ratto di Proserpina” by Bernini (my love). You can see it in Villa borghese museums in Rome. Look at this.

LOOK AT THIS. It seems like that’s a real thigh, ffs!

Also… TEARS? Do you remember somebody showing pearls for tears on Harryween…?

Anyway… here’s few interesting things about this myth. (Again thank you to this person on twitter, but I would love to read something else about this if you know anyone who wrote something).

First of all, Persephone has always been connected to the pomegranate. Hades tricked her into eating pomegranate seeds. The law said if you eat something in underworld, you can never leave the underworld again. Persephone ate 6 seeds so she was forced to go back to Hades for 6 months per year. Here you have Harry eating a pomegranate during that iconic photoshoot. Honestly the first thing I asked myself was why the pomegranate and not the watermelon since you know… it’s the most hyped song from fine line for example?

Secondly, the daffodils. When Hades kidnapped Persephone to bring her to the underworld and possibly marry her, she was collecting daffodils (narcisus). And there you have the daffodils on Harry’s cardigan. I guess it was around the same time the stunt shitshow started like the “bring back mainly man” pics too… and it was odd.

All that interview is just some painful thing hard to watch.

So what if…? What if this is just the umpteenth metaphor H uses to tell us he, just like Persephone, left home so young not knowing where they would end up and, just like her, he had some seeds once and now he can’t leave that place for good? That’s kinda sad, I know.

To be precise, some sources say it wasn’t a pomegranate but poppy seeds, because of the opium and all. Hello Carolina! this is the only time I found harry wearing poppy flowers. Look at this little greek statue of an angel so cute and pretty. The prettiest crioforos of all the time!

Persephone has a strong iconography made of flowers in general really. Like—

Also, I wanna leave the usual random coincidence related to Persephone cause why not? Not the butterfly….

Third, let’s talk about Persephone’s character per se. What’s obvious about her is she not only lives a double life, on the Earth for spring/summer and under earth for fall/winter, but there’s also a double self: Persephone, the so called Kore, the young lady, and Persephone the queen of the underworld.

The Kore is also called “moon”. That’s— aaaaah! I can’t believe everything gravitates around the same things! Anyway. The kore/moon is the juvenile and bizarre self living in a state of excitement, but also anxiety and uncertainty, fantasy, instability in evolution. The Queen of the Underworld is more harmonious, strong, rational, calm.

When I read about this I immediately thought of this constant duality always following H art like a shadow. The fine line between reality and the dream, between female and male, between things I can and things I can’t, between human and fish (like a mermaid you know), between awakeness and dream, between what you are and what they think you are.

Fun fact: Persephone was in love with Adonis, Aphrodites’ lover. How could her compete with the Nonetheless Goddess of Love? Poor Persephone. I can see her under a tree among some pink and yellow and white flowers sweetly singing “I got a girl crush. I hate to admit it but I got a heart rash it aint slowing down…”

Honestly I’ll end this here cause I feel lost in my own thoughts but I just wanted to show off like always for nothing lmao

Happy Louis’ Day! 🧡

Adding this just for the records: video (edit 03.01.2022)

#harry and proserpina #harry as persephone #persephone references #greek mythology stuff #usual rant #this is so random or is it?#random thoughts honestly #maybe i am on drugs please forgive me or ignore me #my brain is off

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way-wardson · 3 years ago

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like they were 18 and 22 when they met! you and I are both 20, imagine meeting someone now and connecting so wonderfully, so immediately, and ten years later you’re still eating breakfast next to the same person. ten years of growing and learning how to care for each other and yourself, of working through your past and not having to do all of that work entirely by yourself, of having a life partner who gets you and will help you and support you, no questions asked- who fucks up just as often as you do and will always help you laugh it off (part three)

This has been sitting in my inbox for almost two weeks now (I’m sorry!), but not because I missed it or ignoring it. I was just thinking about it (all 8 parts of it!), it is really beautiful and quite profound, and also Tumblr deleted the first time I tried to reply.

I think the third part (above) really sums it up, at 20 years old what they have seems so immense and almost impossible in some ways (to me at least). Something you mention is about how we see being independent as sometimes meaning being alone. I really feel this, at this age a lot of being independent is learning who you are on your own, not compromising your life for others, and doing things alone for the first time. This is definitely important to do but working out where the relationships in your life fit into this is also vital. Determining the line between friendship and romantic relationship and where your time and happiness lie is important. Happiness is such a fine balance of so many of these things and an infinite more that no one will ever perfect but your 20s especially are all about learning this, I think at least. I have 9 years 8 months more to find out!

Another way to look at this that you mention is imagine ‘you had a best friend every time, going through the same milestones as you’. People often talk of the faces we have to the world, pretty sure even Dan and Phil have spoken about it! I think many people want that person, romantic or not, where they don't have to have that face, no hiding, no second thoughts, it’s as if they are an extension of yourself. That is so much more than romantic love, like you say. Maybe that’s not what you meant but it’s how I interpreted it at least!

Something else you say is about how they see everything of each other and they stay, they always stay. Adding on to learning independence and something I think is talked about quite a lot a the moment is cutting people out of your life. Something that often feels unnatural and taboo but sometimes necessary. Equally knowing when to hold on to people is important. Realising when an argument, a misunderstanding, an ick that maybe feels all consuming is not worth losing someone over. That is difficult! As you say: ‘putting up with each other’s idiosyncrasies, like socks with no match and the pig dan will never be rid of and the million houseplants they go through and phil leaving the cabinet doors open all the time, dan lying on the floor because of an Existential Crisis and the 3am emergency room visits’. Dan and Phil chose each other (maybe not every time even but when it mattered) and they won every time ultimately.

Another part of your message (essay!?) you say ‘your teenage years just don’t look like everyone else’s when you’re queer, it’s lonely and especially with a story like dan’s’. It’s amazing to think that because of Dan and Phil and the tiny corner of the internet they helped intentionally and unintentionally create made some people’s teenage years better, bearable even. I am so grateful I was part of the Phandom when I was in my young teenage years as it was such a positive space. I learnt about the LGBTQIA+ community and to feel comfortable in exploring and living my sexuality and gender. I don’t think I will ever comprehend how profound an effect that probably had on my life.

I’m so sorry I have publicly analysed your message like an English Literature exam but it felt right! I could write more and I may just post the rest of your message without comment because it is so chaotically fond and beautiful! Maybe it is my fatal flaw for believing when you say it is the last part but I’m okay with that.

I leave you with your final message: ‘will any of us ever be loved like this? please, let us all one day be loved like this’.

#I am intrigued to who you are #I haven't posted phandom stuff for ages #dan and phil #phandom #zoe's rambles

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justanotherblonde23 · 4 years ago

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I Want You - A Din Djarin Story

Author’s Note: Hey there, internet friends. So I had an ask from my friend @hdlynnslibrary that I can’ find to save my life. Luckily, I wrote it down! “Hi Kat! My darling! I must admit to feeling #horny okay? Soooo what about a prompt for my fav space man Din? Like maybe with an #inexperienced reader?” Oh Heather, my love, ask and you shall receive! What started out as a little somethin became 14 pages, double spaced, 12 point Times New Roman font. So my darling, I hope you enjoy this Din x reader fic, it was made with LOTS of love <3

Warnings: SMUT, there is definately sexy times going on over here, all aboard the horny train, leaving the station as we speak. Choo-fuckin-choo! Also, language because I am me and since I was born and raised in Boston and I have been swearing like a goddamn sailor since, well, ever lol. Oh, and there’s a slight breeding kink, just an FYI. I’m sorry, it just all came out and I couldn’t help it and Din Djarin wants his clan to expand, okay?

Thank you to all who read, like, comment, reblog, etc. It warms my heart that you all are enjoying my work. Please let me know what you think of this one :-)

You had been traveling with Din on the Razor Crest for the past year or so. He found you on Arvala-7, working alongside Kuiil. You were good with your hands, fast with a blaster, and most importantly, you connected with the Child. From the second that kid saw you, he decided that you were his. He was the largest reason that you were here right now. How anyone could resist those big eyes, his floppy ears, and that cute baby smile. He turned your heart to putty.

Your days were spent mostly on the Crest, keeping an eye on the little one and tending to the ship the best you could. The baby required a fair bit of effort, but you didn’t mind; he had become like your own child without you even realizing it.

Somewhere along the way, you had become closer with the Mandalorian that you traveled with. Clipped sentences became more extended conversations as you gently urged him out of his shell. Soon, he became curious about you, asking all sorts of unimportant questions, ranging from where you grew up to what your favorite color was. Dinners alone with the kid turned into Mando joining you, lifting his helmet ever so slightly so that he could take a sip of the broth you made or a bite of the ration pack you heated up. Every time he did this, you made sure to keep your eyes on your plate, never wanting to disrespect his Creed in any way.

As the months progressed, your feelings for one stoic Mandalorian grew. You caught yourself lingering in the cockpit more when after you put the little one down at night. You also caught yourself staring on more than one occasion, and you knew for a fact that Mando saw you, too. How could you not stare at that imposing figure that you shared a home with? The duality of the man was awe-inspiring, to be sure. He was a fearsome warrior, and you had witnessed his prowess first hand many a time. He brought bounties in nonstop, always jetting off to the next one before the last quarry had been frozen away in carbonite for a day. And then there was the gentleness that he had with the baby. You could tell that this was his first time taking care of another person by himself. Sometimes he was a bit rough around the edges, but he did try his best. He was learning how to be the best parent he could for the kid, and watching that play out warmed your heart.

Often times, when he took the kid up to the cockpit so that you could use the refresher and wash the day away, you could hear him up there talking to the kid gently. Sometimes he speaks in Basic; other times, he speaks in what you assume is Mando’a. Every once in a while, you hear him sing the baby a lullaby on those restless nights where nothing seems to calm that sweet baby down. The first time you heard him sing softly to the kid, you knew that you loved him.

You never felt right acting on your feelings; you didn’t know how he thought about you. Also, you were terrified of making a fool of yourself. Truth be told, you have never been in a man’s bed before. The life of a refugee of the Empire didn’t leave much time for amorous encounters. By the time you found Kuiil, all you wanted was to keep your head down and do your work. If you happened to meet someone along the way, fantastic, but you had more pressing matters to attend to, like surviving in the desert.

That all changed one night when you least expected it. Mando had taken the kid to soothe him and put him to sleep, so you took the opportunity to use the fresher. You had been working hard that day, repairing areas of the Crest that needed maintenance while juggling an inquisitive little one. You took your time, relishing the way that the water felt against your bare skin, the warmth seeping into your muscles and soothing your bones. You wouldn’t tell anyone, but you viewed water as a gift from the Maker itself. For the first time in your life, you didn’t have to scrounge and save every last drop. You’d never had the luxury of using actual water the bathe daily; you’d never been in the financial position to have such a thing. For the Galaxy working class, a sonic was the best you could hope for most of the time. It cleansed the body of dirt and grime just fine, but it wasn’t pleasant like water was.

In all honesty, your idea of a luxuriously long shower was well under ten minutes, but it was a dream come true for you. After you were clean and smelling of the fresh soap that you used, it was time for you to get out. You grabbed the small towel, drying your body, and then reached for your clothes. Your hands floundered around a bit until you realized that you had inadvertently forgotten to bring a new pair of clothes or your sleep shirt in with you. You had been in too much of a rush to hand off the baby and get just a few moments to yourself.

You groaned at your flightiness. Kriff, that only left you with two options: you could either put your dirty clothes back on, or you could try to make your way back to your sleeping quarters wrapped in this tiny ass towel. Neither option particularly appealed to you, but your desire for cleanliness finally won out.

You gathered up your belongings and quietly opened the refresher door, careful not to be too loud. It usually took a bit of time to calm the baby down enough for him to go to sleep, and you didn’t want to interrupt that process. The lights in the hold were dimmed, leaving you with the ability only to see a few steps in front of you.

Unfortunately, your quest to be stealthy was in vain. You had forgotten that you had moved a particular toolbox during your work project this morning. Said toolbox ended up being placed right where you could smack your little toe on it. You yelped in pain, dropping everything in your arms in favor of hopping up and down on one foot and clutching the other in your hands. This caused the towel to also fall to the ground, leaving you bare. A noise drew your attention up, and your eyes met a helmet, staring right back. Mando was standing right in front of you, apparently drawn by the noise.

You dropped your foot, standing up straight, eyes wide in shock. You didn’t move; you barely breathed. Your mind was short-circuiting, and you didn’t even have the sense to pick up your towel off the ground. Your body was overflowing with embarrassment, horror, and- was that arousal? Stars, you were standing here, completely bare, across from the Mandalorian who has every inch of himself covered.

Ever so slowly, he reached down and grabbed the towel you had dropped, carefully wrapping it back around you. His hand accidentally brushed your breast, causing you to suck in a breath of surprise. He murmured his apologies, beginning to withdraw his hands, but you were faster. You reached out, stilling his retreating hands and placing them back on your body. You wanted this, you wanted him, and you wanted to make sure that he knew it.

He tilted his helmet curiously, waiting for you to give him a prompt. He took in your labored breathing, your increased heart rate, the way you bit your lip. Your eyes met his visor, and he could barely even see your eye color because your pupils were so blown with lust and desire. He groaned a deep, low sound in his chest at your obvious reaction to his presence.

“What do you want, sweet girl?” he ground out, trying to keep himself in check.

You moved your hands, gently cradling his helmet where his cheeks would be, breathing in his scent swirling so close to you. You could smell the blaster residue, the leather, the metal of his beskar, the soap you both used in the shower, and that smell that was uniquely his. You’d never get tired of it, not in this life or the next.

“I want you,” was your reply. “Touch me, Mando, please.”

“Din,” came his reply, almost in a whisper, as if it was something sacred.

You frowned, your nose scrunched up in confusion. You studied this helmet, eyes searching for answers.

“My name, it’s Din. Din Djarin.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, eyes wide with confusion. You knew the sacredness of a name in this Galaxy. Stars, you hadn’t even told him your own name for a solid three months. The only reason he had found out was because he overheard you talking to the kid one day. A name was even more sacred to a Mandalorian. It was precious, something to be guarded with the utmost care. You’d never even wagered that he’d give it to you, ever.

“You can use it, but with just me and the kid around. No one else gets to know it, no one but you.”

You nodded, understanding just how much it had taken for him to tell you. His name was a gift, something that you would keep close and cherish.

“Din,” you spoke the Mandalorian’s name for the first time, testing it on your tongue, relishing the taste of it in your mouth. It was a good name, a solid name, a name fitting for the warrior before you. “Din Djarin, a beautiful name.”

Hearing his name in your mouth set Din’s soul on fire. The way you spoke it, the way you had considered it and acknowledged the importance of what he had just given you, it made him want to hear it again and again. He wanted to listen to you moan his name in ecstasy, begging him for more, begging him for pleasure. He wanted to hear you yell it, mutter it, say it in everyday conversation. He wanted to hear his name drip from your lips for the rest of his life.

That night was the first time he took you and gave you pleasure. You had come on his tongue and fingers three times before you were strung out and exhausted. You fell asleep in his bunk wrapped tightly in his arms. That was two months ago.

You still had yet to take him fully, to allow him to be inside of you. You had admitted that you were nervous, that you had no experience to work off of. Din had been nothing but patient and kind, never pressuring you into anything that you weren’t comfortable with. He had told you that, “We have all the time in the world, sweet girl. There’s no need to rush.” You believed him wholeheartedly, but in the past weeks, you had found yourself wanting more. Sure, you were still frightened, you didn’t know what you were doing, but that burn and ache inside of you kept getting more intense as the days went by. You know that Din would take care of you.

It’s been a rough day, and that’s an understatement. You helped with the bounty this time because the information you were given indicated that this quarry was heavily guarded. Mando couldn’t say no to an extra blaster covering his ass. Thankfully, this mission was on Tatooine, meaning that you could leave the little one with Peli. Maker knows that woman loves your little green bean; how could she not? Green bean loves her right back and seems to be particularly fond of the pit droids. You think it has something to do with the fact that he can bonk their noses to make them spring to life, but you can’t be sure.

Unfortunately, it turns out that this asshole was much more protected than you had been led to believe. You would have some choice words for Greef Karga to pass along to whoever had commissioned this kriffing bounty. You both had more or less emerged unscathed, but there would most certainly be bruises covering you two from head to toe.

Once the bounty was frozen away in carbonite, you could breathe a little better. He wouldn’t be giving you any trouble now. When Peli saw that state you were in, she insisted that she keep the little one for the night, which was a relief. As much as you loved that sweet little boy, you needed a breather. Hopefully, you’d be able to spend some much needed time with just you and your Mandalorian.

You found yourself on Din’s lap with a blindfold covering your eyes so he could kiss you. You would rather not see anything at all and have his lips on yours than have your sight with his helmet on. You both were in your underclothes, your legs straddling him.

That’s when the kisses began. There was something about kissing Din Djarin that was otherworldly. The way he poured all his love and care into a kiss never ceases to blow you away. He always started so gently, building you up and setting you on fire. How could anything be that good, that pleasurable? He licked into your mouth, moaning at your taste. Your Mandalorian loved to kiss you. He nipped at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp, pleasure shooting straight down to your core.

He moved his kisses to your jaw and down the column of your neck, leaving bruising in his wake. Din whispered in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how good you tasted, how you were just for him. The thought that you were his, that this fearsome warrior had opened himself up enough to let you in, it urged you forward.

You began to rock back and forth on his thigh, chasing that feeling of bliss. He stopped you for a moment, helping you wiggle out of your panties, before urging you to start once more. This felt even better, your slick dripping out onto his thigh, helping you create beautiful friction. By the sounds he was making, Din was enjoying it, too. The feeling of his muscles hard beneath you, your clit rubbing deliciously against him, was heavenly. You could feel the sparks in your tummy, the clench of your cunt around nothing; you were so close.

Din urged you on, his hands at your hips, moving you. He muttered about how gorgeous you were as you took your pleasure on his thigh, how he wanted to see you cum on him, how he wanted to taste your sweet pussy after you came. His words were what finally did you in, the dam bursting and your orgasm hitting you full force. Your hips began to stutter, but your Mandalorian kept you moving, riding the waves of pleasure, extending your bliss. Finally, your whines led him to stop; you were far too sensitive to continue. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

As you sat there, your head on Din’s shoulder, centering yourself once more, you realized what exactly was pressing against your thigh. You could feel his rock hard, dripping cock, just within reach. The thought of it made your pussy clench and your mouth water. You wanted Din Djarin, all of him, in every way possible. You wanted to feel him inside of you, wrecking you and making you see stars.

“Din,” you murmured, “I want you.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, breathing you in. “You have me, Mesh’la, any way you want me.”

You sat up straight on his lap, facing him. If you didn’t have a blindfold on, you’re sure you’d be looking him directly in the eye. “No, I want you. I want you inside of me; I want your cock, Din.”

Your Mandalorian groaned at your admission. There was nothing he wanted more. He took in the earnest expression on your face, looking for any sign of hesitance or anxiety. He never wanted you to feel pressured into doing anything that you didn’t want to do. He didn’t want you to feel as if you needed to do something to please him. He wanted you to explore sex at your own pace, never another’s.

“Cyare, are you sure? There is no rush for us. My satisfaction comes from the fact that I can satisfy you and that you trust me enough to allow me to be the first to touch you in this way. There is no timetable besides your wants, needs, and desires, mesh’la. I don’t want you to pressure yourself.”

You smiled at his words, his voice so soft and sweet for you. He was always so considerate, never rushing you or telling you that you were going too slowly. The kindness and care this great warrior continuously showed you reminded you of this complicated man’s duality. You felt safe with him, and you wanted all of him.

“Din, baby, no, I don’t feel pressured. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now. I want to feel you inside of me; I want you to make love to me, please.”

He cradled your face in his palms for a moment, his thumbs gliding over your cheeks. Then, he kissed you. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of passion, sinking you deeper into arousal. He kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that he loved, and maybe he did. Perhaps you and the kid were his whole heart. His tongue expertly explored your mouth, causing you to mewl and moan. He knew just what would get you going.

He pulled away, sucking in precious oxygen as you did the same. Carefully, he turned the both of you around and laid you down on his cot. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the galaxy, not by a long shot. It was designed more for efficiency than comfort. The thing was, though, you didn’t care. It was Din’s, and he was willing to share it with you. You could feel him hovering over you, his breath warm against your face.

“Let me taste you, sweet girl. Let me get you ready to take my cock.”

You gasped, feeling his cock rock back and forth, covering himself in your slick. You were at a loss for words, so many sensations happening all at once. All you could manage was a nod, and a whimpered, “Please, Din.”

Your Mandalorian kissed his way down your body, leaving behind bite marks and bruises where he wanted to cause heightened sensations. Before he even made it to your pussy, you were already painfully wet for him. You could feel his breath ghosting over the place where you wanted him the most. You lifted your hips in an attempt to spur him on, but all it got you was a muscular arm forcing your hips back down to the cot.

“Patience, cyar’ika, I want you to feel every ounce of pleasure that I can wring out of you. Enjoy the moment, feel the suspense, don’t simply rush to the finish line, little one.”

You yelped as you felt him bite into the juncture of your hip and thigh, sucking in hard to leave a mark. He soothed the skin with his tongue, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough. He repeated the process on the other side, marking you in a place only the two of you would ever see, like a secret that you both would share.

Unexpectedly, his tongue licked a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit. You sighed; that was the feeling you so desperately wanted. He lapped at your cunt like a man starved, and you were the best thing on the menu. He knew how to work you into a frenzy, and quickly, he played your body like an instrument that he had been practicing on for a lifetime. You quaked and shook as your second orgasm of the night took hold, bursting and pulling you ever forward into the bliss you so desperately craved.

Even after you had ridden out your orgasm, Din didn’t stop. He worked you over, inserting one finger and then another inside of you, hitting that one spot inside you that made you see stars over and over. His mouth never stopped, his tongue lazily drawing loose circles around your clit, never slowing down, but keeping a steady pace. Your hips fought to lift off the cot, simultaneously fighting and chasing that feeling of ecstasy. When he scissored his fingers inside of you and twisted his wrist just so, you lost it once more. A scream that sounded something like his name tore out of your throat as the stars exploded behind your eyes.

You felt like you were floating in space, freely and without a care in the world. You reached a new height of pleasure that you’d never even imagined before. You could touch the sky and would never ever come down. You thought every encounter with your Mandalorian was pure rapture, but this was beyond anything you had ever felt before. You were panting, gasping for the oxygen your body so desperately needed, and you felt better than you ever had before. As your head left the clouds, you realized you had a dopey smile on your face, and your lover was covering you with kisses everywhere he could reach.

Vaguely, you heard his whispers in the dark. You were so good for me, mesh’la. You looked so beautiful cumming on my fingers and tongue. You taste divine, starshine. Those words went straight to your heart and to your pussy, flooding you with more arousal than you had ever thought possible. A deep kiss on your lips finally brought you back to the present, the warm body on top of you centering your mind.

“Are you ready for my cock, sweet girl? Do you still want to feel me inside of you? I promise I’ll go slow.”

You nodded in response, your words failing you.

“I need to hear you say it, cyare. I need to hear you tell me that you want this, that you’re sure.”

Your head lolled a bit as you processed his words, still feeling slightly hazy.

“Din Djarin, I want you inside of me. Please, please, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.”

He chuckled at your pleas, a smile pressed into the crook of your neck.

“I’ll be most delighted to give you what you want, sweet girl. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Are you ready for me?”

You breathed out a yes as you felt him coat himself in your slick, making sure he could ease into you. You knew he was quite large. You had curiously wondered aloud one day if all men were built like that. Even though his size intimidated you, you wanted everything he could give you. The excitement fizzled in your belly; you were getting wetter by the second.

Ever so slowly, your Mandalorian lined himself up with you and began to press in. You gasped at the feeling of just the head of his cock inside of you, the blunt tip spearing into you. He paused before he began to move again. Slowly, inch by inch, he pressed himself into you, stopping ever so often to make sure that you had time to adjust to him. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as the girls in your hometown had made it seem. Maybe they hadn’t been with the proper lovers, or perhaps the boys they were sleeping with were just inexperienced and too young. All you knew was that there was a pinch of pain, yes, but the pleasure outweighed any discomfort you may have felt.

You could feel every delicious inch of him inside you, splitting you open and filling you up like nothing ever had before. You could feel every ridge and vein as he inched his way into you. You couldn’t even put a name to this feeling, but you wanted more. Eventually, he was fully seated inside of you; your hips flush against his own. You felt so full, stuffed to the brim, and Maker, you loved it. He waited for a minute or two, allowing you to adjust to him and have a chance to take in all these new sensations. You had thought his fingers were terrific, but they were nothing compared to the feel of his cock deep inside of you.

He kissed you. It was all teeth, tongue, and lips, and stars; it was perfect. He devoured your mouth, taking what was his. You couldn’t help the little sounds that sprung up from your throat when he did that. He answered you with guttural groans of his own. You could feel the way those sounds made his chest rumble; you could feel it in your chest pressed against him.

He grabbed your leg, propping it up on his hip, and he began to move. He never went too fast for you or too hard, keeping a steady pace that kept you comfortable but still dragged you forward to a fourth orgasm. You didn’t even know you had it in you until Din used two of his fingers to assault your clit, encouraging that bundle of nerves to give you one more burst of pleasure. The combination of his cock deep inside you and his fingers on your clit was enough to send you toppling over the edge once more. This orgasm was more intense than the others, blazing white-hot through your veins and setting your soul on fire. If you thought you had been screaming before, you were mistaken. You writhed and squirmed under your lover, your pleasure causing your body to shake like a leaf. You sobbed his name over and over, tears spilling out of your eyes from sheer ecstasy.

Your Mandalorian groaned deeply at the feel of your pussy clamping down on him like a vice. You were so tight, to begin with, and your orgasm grabbed him and shoved him into his orgasm. As he emptied himself deep within you, he couldn’t help but mumble praises. “Oh Mesh’la, you’re so tight for me, so beautiful laid bare just for me. You’re such a good girl, a sweet girl, my girl. I’ll give you whatever you want, baby. Adventure, new experiences, my love- fuck if you want it, I’ll give you warriors, children of our own.”

You both laid there for a while afterward, basking in the glow of post-sex haze. You carded your fingers through his curls, gently scratching his scalp as he pressed sweet kisses into your skin. He was still inside you; neither of you could bear the thought of being parted just yet. You could stay like this forever, caught in this in-between time, not yet floating back into reality.

“I would like that,” you murmured, never stopping your movements in his hair.

“Like what, cyare?”

“For you to give me warriors of our own, Din.”

You could feel him twitch inside you, clearly interested. His head shot up, studying yours closely, looking for any falsehood or hesitance in your blindfolded face.

“You mean it?” He breathed out.

You grinned, feeling around for his face. You traced his sharp jawline, the proud cure of his nose, the pout of his plump lips. This was the face of the man you loved, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. Wherever he was in the Galaxy, that was home.

“Yes, my love, I mean it. We have our little green bean, and eventually, he’s going to need some friends to play with. We wouldn’t want him to be lonely. And besides, there’s no one I’d rather raise warriors with than you.”

You heard a faint sniffle before his lips were on yours once more. You had a family, but there was always room to add more to this clan of three.

Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags list xo

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x fem!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x female reader #the madalorian fic #din djarin fic #star wars fic #requested #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fic

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love-peterparker · 4 years ago

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In Extremis || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After the reveal of Spider-Man’s secret identity and the release of Quentin Beck’s murder video, there isn’t a lot going right for Peter Parker. But he has you.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, protests and rallies, mentions of murder, a gun that is never shot, and some hair description for Y/N for plot purposes (but it should still be generic enough).

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I’m first a Captain America and Agent Carter fan, and I wanted to recreate what makes their relationship so special, but with Peter and Y/N… ‘cuz I also love Peter Parker. I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it.

Also, thanks to @marvelouspeterparker, @sinisterspidey (she actually has a blurb called I’ll Follow You and it builds off of Spider-Man’s identity reveal) and @stuckonspidey for answering my anon asks for general writing tips and Peter’s character. And @spideyspeaches with her kind words after reading one of the final drafts of this fic. Lastly, a special thanks to @peterbenjiparker encouraging me with this fic and for making me so emotional with her series Invisible String (Read this!... but only if your heart can take it) that I needed to write something. This story has nothing to do with it, but it does make some small generic references to her fic, and I would like to think that Y/N and Peter are soulmates in this story.

***

This takes place in a universe where a FFH-esque identity reveal happens when Y/N and Peter are young adults.

***

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

Peter rarely admits it, but you say it all the time. When you hit a dead end in the Avenger’s database. When checking for your gun before leaving another safehouse. When reaching for him in the dark of night.

This fucking city didn’t deserve him.

It had been over a year since Peter’s identity as Spider-Man was revealed and the dubious video of Quentin Beck’s murder was released. But it felt like a lifetime.

These two Peter problems were like ivy. They rooted, twisted, and spread. Winding into chokeholds around their victims.

But heroes knew how to play with fire.

Peter’s identity was dealt with in a straightforward fashion. Plenty villains who would do anything to exact revenge on Spider-Man, but they would have to find Peter Parker and identify his loved ones first. And for someone like Peter? Well, it was going to take some time.

To you, Peter was lifegiving. A shining ray of golden hope. You fell to sleep and rose to press kisses into his face. To cherish and hold. To share tears. But to the world, or even New York City? He was a nobody, one who couldn’t even hold a steady job.

You all worked fast while the wicked played catch-up. The Avengers searched and wiped all, but ultimately little personal information Peter had on the internet, as well anything that might connect him to your shared inner circle. Everyone was given an Avenger’s signal watch. And both you and May opted to move as a precaution. May to Brooklyn. You to Avenger’s Tower.

The case of Quentin Beck’s murder was a much more grinding process. Through polished superhero reputations, the lawyers secured an Avenger’s Tower house arrest during court proceedings. An overwhelming amount of evidence in Peter’s favor was gathered. Press conferences were held. Speeches were given. And when it all seemed like it was too much for too long, you and Peter would lie in bed, arms and legs entangled, whispering that everything would turn out all right. Good will win. You just had to keep going.

It was taxing, but not impossible. And just when you all thought you were pulling at the end of the thread with the jury in your favor, the ground beneath you crumbles into nothingness. You spiral and crash into a labyrinth, lush and high-walled. Maybe this was the way out- oh wait, you’ve been here- or have you? You all turn and turn only to face a new dead end. A new set of incriminating videos were released. Spider-Man’s videos took the spotlight, but videos of Wanda and Bucky were also revealed. The streets of New York bustled in whispers.

Can we really trust these heroes? What if these videos are the truth?

And what happens when these powerful people think they are right when they are wrong?

When public protests against Earth’s heroes sprouted and jury members started to disappear, it was clear that the whoever or whatever was behind this had greater motives and powerful allies. It was time to buy time.

Everyone had tried to convince Peter to go into hiding somewhere else. Anywhere else. He had enough super-friends where anywhere was possible. Lay low while everyone else above ground scrambled to unweave this massive web of lies. But Peter was infuriatingly adamant that New York, regardless of her wavering loyalties, was his to protect.

So two months ago, he started bouncing around New York City, investigating when he could, and making polarizing headlines with every swing he took.

You tried to continue as if Peter was still by your side. After being terminated from your junior journalist job for “suspect ties to Spider-Man,” Spider-Man became your mission. You originally attended press conferences and rallies as moral support, but after Peter’s first awkward mumbles of a speech, it was painfully clear that he needed a new voice. The public herself needed a normal person who interacted with superheroes. Who better than Spider-Man’s girlfriend? But after the last kidnapping attempt and the Avengers’ numbers shrinking, it was clear that this wouldn’t last. The world now knew who you were too.

The thick ivy had caught up, and you were on fire.

But to hell with it because there was no universe where you would be leaving this nightmare without him. So the next time you looked in the mirror, you donned short red hair and heavy eyeliner.

Days were spent questioning possible witnesses. Nights were spent in the light of a computer. And when you could barely drag yourself to continue, moments were spent staring at your beautiful boy’s picture. He needed you.

You had only heard from him twice since he went into hiding, though there were a few times answered unknown number calls would lead to abstract rustling and distinct web shooter noises. To those, you always whispered “I love you,” before hanging up.

That was until last night, when you noticed small slip of paper in the crack of the window of the safehouse you had been staying at. Only a time and an address were written, in messy, but undeniably Parker script.

You spent the next day visiting arbitrary places in the Bronx, trying to determine if anyone was following you and collecting items in an unsuspecting backpack.

It was a balancing act between comfort and practicalities. An extra stealth suit. A waterproof jacket you both shared. Protein bars. Extra web fluid and a first-aid kit. A hefty wad of cash, just in case. And in the smallest pocket, things to help him in the darkest days to come. Letters from you, May, Ned, and your other friends. A few packs of gummy bears. And a picture of you and him, laughing in Central Park on one of your many dates. Sunlight casting halos on your heads. Bright. Carefree. Brimming with love.

Your heart cried and cried and cried, begging for those days.

But they were gone. And as much as you didn’t want to admit it, so were the people in that picture.

You travelled to the building location and made your way to the rooftop. Rows and rows of white sheets were hung, all whipping in the wind to dry.

A small smile graced your lips. You had to hand it to him. He was smart.

You folded yourself into one of the corners of the rooftop, gun in hand and waited. Eerie silence slowly lulling you to…

You woke up to the soft footsteps, sleepy eyes registering a shadowy figure behind one of the bedsheets.

“Hans?” you whispered, pointing your gun with a finger on the trigger.

“Leia,” the figured replied, equally hushed. The shadow lifted the curtain. It took a second to register, but it was really him. You raced towards each other, quick hold each other, beaming. Today, you existed in the same place at the same time.

“That was so stupid. I can’t believe you got me to do that,” you laughed, pressing your face into him, holding him tightly as if he could disappear at any moment.

“Oh, come on, you loved it!” he quipped. You hummed in appreciation.

“True, but I love you more.” His eyes brightened at your confession, pink dusting his cheeks.

“I know.” You shook your head, smiling at his response before turning your head and taking in who he had become. Gone were the luxurious curls, replaced with a buzzcut. A pair of fake glasses perched on his nose in further attempts to conceal his identity. Hallowed eyes. His skin tinted gray from the stress. You ran your fingers through the fuzz on his head, massaging his scalp. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes fluttering shut, with hands reaching to caress yours.

“You cut your hair.”

“You did too.” His fingers danced in the ends of your own tresses. A sad smile furnished your face.

“It had to be done,” you replied, before pressing your lips to his cheek and gently removing yourself from his embrace to get your laptop. “We need to get started. We’ve found a lot since you left.”

With his head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours, and your laptop on your lap, you recounted the on-going investigation to him. The deep web that just kept going and going. Your theories and suspects. And when that was done, you kept talking. How Aunt May and his friends were fine but missing him. How the remaining Avengers were fairing. Peter was oddly quiet, sharing only a few thoughts here and there, but you attributed it to his weariness.

As the sun continued to dip, the silences between sentences stretched, but you mustered more words. As if your sentences were the delicate string that grounded him to you.

“Y/N,” he interrupted. You looked at him and hummed in reply. He began playing with your fingers, eyes never meeting your own. “I love you more than I ever I thought I could, and I’m really thankful for everything you’ve done. And you’ve done so much. Like, I don’t know if I would have even made it this far without you, but here you are, and well, you can’t keep doing this.” You cocked your head, before shaking your head, hair rustling.

“What? Peter, we are getting somewhere! I just need to visit the-“ He lets go of your hand, fingers clenching into trembling fists.

“No, no more visits. No more investigating. This can’t be your life. When this started, we thought there was a way out. But it’s been over a year. Clearly whoever or whatever is doing this won’t stop until we’re all gone. This may never stop. I can’t have you throwing away your life for me. Hell, I don’t even know when I’ll see you aga-“

“Peter,” you cut him off, your voice pitched lower in concern, “Where is this coming from? We’re gonna make it. It is just a matter of-”

“I can’t give you what you deserve! I’m Spider-Man, so we don’t get to have a house and two kids! We get this-, this fucking disaster! I live like this because I have to. I don’t get a choice. And you shouldn’t be stupid enough where you are doing the same thing!”

Your mouth fell open, ready to spit back poison when he looked at you. It was in his eyes. Behind the falling tears and redness was the glint of insecurity that Peter had always carried. This was the child whose parents died. The teenager who didn’t stop his Uncle Ben from getting killed. Who held Tony Stark in his last moments. The man who was on the run.

The hero who would never stop giving to a world who would never stop taking.

Your thoughts frenzied. If you held on to him too tightly, he would resist. The more he would thrash, determined to save you while slowly sacrificing himself until there was nothing left. Your brain was frozen, so your heart gave you the words-

“Marry me.”

Peter’s eyes widen before retracting into a tight furrow, scrunching his nose.

“What?! No! Did you not hear anything I just said-“

“I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. The one thing you never get to doubt in the world is us. So, I’m gonna ask you again; will you,” you took his hand, went to one knee, and let your voice soften as you held his gaze, “Peter Parker, marry me?”

You both bathed in silence. His chocolate doe eyes boring straight into yours, searching for truth. The thought that maybe you had gone about this the wrong way started to crawl into your mind, but then a smile slowly creeped onto his face, bright red with blush. More salt-water pooled in his eyes. He pulled you into a near lung-constricting embrace, smothering wet kisses into every inch of your face. Mine. Mine. Mine. You could practically hear his thoughts as you basked in each kiss. I missed you. I love you. And oh my god, you’re here to stay.

“What did I ever-, I have no idea know what I ever did to ever deserve you.” A smirked formed on your lips.

“Is that a yes?” The gold stars in his eyes shined at your playfulness. There was the man you always loved.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes. I do, Mrs. Parker,” he said pulling you in for a passionate kiss. And you both stayed there, melting into the ground beneath you. Breathing each other in as moments passed. Tender “I love you’s” flowing generously from both of your lips. As if the world had vanished and all that existed was you and him, and him and you, and this understanding that this, this was a love until death do you part.

Peter was the one to break the string of kisses, leaving you to chase his lips before touching his forehead with your own. His breath hot on your face. “I- , if you go to my lab there is a secret compartment. In my desk. The code is your birthday. I was going to ask you myself, but then, well… this.” You chuckled as he stumbled on his words.

“I’ll get it as soon as I can.” You both leaned in to close the gap again when a cacophony of sirens and lights echoed in the streets below.

Frustration filled Peter’s eyes as he sat up. “Shit. I-, I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?” You let out a shallow breath, but quickly forced a smile.

“Go get’em.” And with the whip of his webs, he was gone.

You sat there for a moment, taking in the new quiet. Your fingers graced your lips, still warm with the memory of his. A lightness had settled in your chest, and with every breathe you could feel it pulse stronger.

Because no matter what it took, no matter how long the wait, there was two things for certain.

He was going to protect the city. And you were going to save your husband.

#In Extremis #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

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wordsintimeandspace · 3 years ago

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All That Haunts Us (1/14)

Jon and Tim have seen their fair share of strange things while working in Research at the Magnus Institute. They still didn’t quite expect to rescue Martin, who has been missing for a year, from a supernatural encounter during one of their investigations. Together, the three of them hunt for answers and try to find a way forward, but they all have things that haunt them.

Meanwhile, Elias sees the perfect opportunity to set his devious plan into motion...

Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2500 words for this chapter. Read on AO3!

Tim plumps down onto the corner of Jon’s desk without much warning. After months of being friends with Tim Jon supposes he should be used to it by now, but he still startles a little, eyes shooting up from the book he’s been engrossed in for who knows how long. Tim sits there with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at him like he’s exactly where he belongs.

“Can I help you?” Jon finally asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I hope so,” Tim says lightly. “But first, I brought lunch.”

He sets a sandwich down in front of Jon. Jon blinks in surprise, and only now notices the rumbling of his stomach and the empty desks around him as everyone else in his shared office has gone out for lunch. “Oh. Sorry, we had planned to meet up, hadn’t we?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind eating here.” Tim takes a bite of his own sandwich, as if to demonstrate. Jon wrinkles his nose as he continues talking, mouth half full. “Reading anything interesting?”

For a second Jon hesitates - out of all the people in the Research Department, Tim might be the only one to agree with him that ‘The Architecture of Cathedrals in the 15th Century’ is actually interesting. But based on the look in his eyes, Jon suspects he has something more pressing to talk about. “Nothing too important,” he finally says, carefully prying the wrapper away from his food. “What did you need help with?”

“I’ve been working on a case.”

Jon looks up from his sandwich - spicy chicken and cucumber, just what he prefers - and frowns. “The one with the cat, right?”

Tim heaves a melodramatic sigh. “Yes, the one with the lady who claims her cat got eaten by, let me quote, ‘a six foot tall monster with too many legs and teeth’. As if that’s the only logical explanation for an outdoor cat to go missing in London. Never mind, oh, I don’t know, cars and foxes and all that.”

Even as he tries to suppress it, Jon can’t quite help the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sound like you had a bit of a week.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I called every vet and the animal shelter if they’ve seen any unusual injuries. And then I’ve knocked on every door in the area that has a cat flap and asked them if their cat has gone missing in the last year, and I scoured every possible missing pet portal on the entire internet.”

“... and? Did you find anything?” Jon asks when Tim doesn’t continue.

Tim throws his hands up, exasperated. “Of course I found something. Do you have any idea how many cats go missing every year in a city like this, entirely due to natural causes?”

Jon nods. “Okay, I get your point. This still doesn’t answer the question of what you need help with though.”

“Look, I just thought... if there is a monster like that - and I’m not saying there is - it’s big enough to harm more than cats, right? So I looked for missing dogs as well. And then, while I was on a roll and because I was terribly bored, I looked for missing persons.”

At that, Jon raises an eyebrow. He knows Tim is an excellent researcher, thorough in everything he does, but that seems to go even beyond his usual rigour. “You can’t possibly tell me you found an account of a person being eaten by a monster like that. Surely we would have heard of it by now.”

“No, ‘course not.” Tim rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his sandwich before he continues. “This has nothing to do with that. But what I did find was a missing person’s report from about a year ago, and several accounts from the last few months that the building where he used to live is haunted.”

Jon stills, looking at Tim with a frown. “That rather sounds like someone is making a crude joke.”

“At first I thought so too,” Tim says. “But the reports on the hauntings didn’t mention that a person went missing there. And the guy’s address isn’t even public. They couldn’t have known. I had Sasha dig that up for me, along with other details on the case. You know Sasha, right?”

Jon nods - he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to her, but even he can’t escape the Institute gossip when someone transfers from Artifact Storage to another department. And he’s seen her around Research by now, in the last few weeks. “I- yes. But… what kind of ‘haunting’ are we talking about here?”

Tim shrugs. “There seems to be a bunch of evidence. Recordings of hushed voices and weird noises, something like rustling? Blurry figures in the shadows. Cold spots.”

“I’m not sure I would count that as evidence.”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Don’t be such a sceptic.”

Jon frowns. “It is our job to be sceptical.”

“Yeah, sure, but you have to admit it’s a weird coincidence, right? That this building where one person disappeared is supposedly haunted since then?”

Jon bites his lip. He trusts Tim’s instincts. And he can’t deny that there’s something off about this whole thing, even if he can’t put his finger on it. It happens sometimes, that a case just feels… wrong, he supposes. That it comes with a prickle of unease and a shiver down his spine, in a way that is too familiar to ignore. He wonders if Tim feels it as well, or if he just - for some unfathomable reason - wants to get out of interviewing even more cat owners.

“What do you want to do about this, then?” he finally asks, and Tim’s face immediately brightens.

“I want to go view the flat. There’s a rent advertisement online. Perfect opportunity for a bit of snooping.”

“Okay. And you need me for… what, exactly?”

At this Tim smiles - a bit mischievous, which is his usual expression, but also a bit bashful, which is a rare sight for someone as self-assured as Tim. Jon can’t help but feel a bit nervous about that, and reaches for his long cold mug of tea.

“I need you to pose as my boyfriend,” Tim says calmly, and Jon promptly chokes as he takes a sip.

“What?” he finally manages to get out as soon as he can breathe again. His cheeks are burning, but Tim just gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

“You heard me. Come on, help me out there buddy.”

“But… why?”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Look, I first tried to be honest, but when I called the landlord and mentioned the Magnus Institute he swore at me and hung up. The rent advertisement is just the backup plan. I need you to be with me and take over the speaking to make sure he doesn’t recognize me.”

For a moment, Jon can only stare at him. “I still don’t understand why I’d have to be your boyfriend. Can’t I be your flatmate?”

“It’s a one bedroom apartment. He’s not going to believe we’re flatmates.”

“What about Sasha? Can’t you ask her?” Jon asks, a bit helplessly.

Tim gives him a long look. “Jon, I’m trying very hard not to be offended that you really don’t want to fake date me, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I- I’m not-” Jon splutters before heaving a sigh. “I- fine. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tim cheers, even as Jon glowers at him. “Oh, this is fantastic,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Can I call you a pet name?”

Heat rises in Jon’s cheeks. He tries his best to glare even as his stomach swoops at the idea, for reasons he resolutely does not want to examine. “Absolutely not.”

“Hold your hand?”

“No.”

Tim lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re no fun.”

“This is supposed to be work, not fun.”

“I can multitask and do both at once, Jon.”

Suppressing a groan, Jon rolls his eyes at him, and decides to just move on. “When do you want to do this?”

“Okay, so, I need you to call to set up an appointment. We can-”

Abruptly, Tim stops. He goes still, the excited grin slipping off his lips. He’s not looking at Jon anymore, his eyes instead fixed on something behind him.

Jon whirls around in his chair, and startles when his gaze falls on Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute, standing in the doorway to his office. As usual, he is wearing an impeccable grey suit and a smile that never quite matches the piercing look in his eyes. Somehow, there’s always something unnerving about him, although Jon can’t put his finger on it.

“Um. Hello, Mr. Bouchard,” he starts slowly.

Elias’ smile widens just a little bit. “Jonathan. I’ve told you before, call me Elias,” he says smoothly. “And Timothy. Just the man I wanted to speak to.”

Tim winces and sits up a little straighter. “Of course. What can I help you with?”

Elias fixes Tim with a long stare that makes Jon squirm in his seat. “I had a rather unpleasant call with one Mr. Abbott earlier,” Elias finally says, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He complained that someone from the Magnus Institute asked to see one of his rental properties to investigate a case.”

“I’m just doing some regular follow-up, Sir,” Tim says, a bit defensively. Jon finally looks away from Elias towards Tim, and watches the crease between his brows deepen as Elias continues.

“Of course. I’m sure you were perfectly polite, Timothy. Mr. Abbott, however, was quite clear that he believes an investigation like this will hurt his carefully crafted image. And I just couldn’t help but wonder why you were contacting him when you were supposed to work on the… what was it, the case of Mrs. Mitchell, I believe? Regarding the disappearance of her cat?”

“Err. Yes, I-”

“Are the cases connected?” Elias asks, a sudden sharpness in his voice that makes Jon flinch. Tim’s mouth twists, as if he’s trying hard to suppress a grimace.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Tim says hesitantly. “I just thought-”

“In that case, I would advise you to focus on the work you were assigned, Mr. Stoker.” The tone in Elias’ voice makes it very clear that he won’t accept any objections. Nevertheless, the smile on his lips doesn’t falter. “We wouldn’t want to get any more complaints, would we?”

“I-” Tim stops himself, letting out a sigh. “Of course, Sir.”

“Since it seems you might have gotten bored with the Mitchell case, I’m sure you have already conducted all necessary research and can deliver the report to my desk by this evening. Or am I mistaken?”

Tim’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t protest. “Sure,” he grumbles.

“Excellent,” Elias says, the sudden sharpness in his voice gone as quickly as it came. He gives them both a short nod. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

With that, Elias turns on his heels and walks away. He’s out of sight as soon as he turns a corner down the corridor, but still, Jon can’t help but stare after him. Beside him, Tim lets out a pitiful groan.

“This evening?” Tim buries his face in his hands. “I had until next week to do the report. I haven’t even started it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says with a wince. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah. Don’t think so. But thank you.” Tim looks up with a small smile and stands, wrapping up the remains of his sandwich. “I’ll best get back to work if I want to have this done by five.”

Jon lets out a small hum, but he’s still distracted by what just happened. Again, he stares down the corridor, as if Elias might reappear any second. He can’t shake the feeling of his eyes on him.

“Are you alright?” Tim asks. Jon startles a little and looks back at him. Tim is watching him with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yes,” Jon says hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just… that was strange, wasn’t it?”

Tim shrugs. “Yeah. But everything about Bouchard is strange.”

“I suppose. But this was...” Jon hesitates. This was more than strange, he wants to say. This feels like Elias doesn’t want us to investigate whatever is going on in that haunted flat. But that’s a silly thought, isn’t it? Jon shakes his head. “Nevermind. Good luck with the report.”

Tim gives him a pained smile. “Thanks,” he says miserably, and finally shuffles back towards his office.

That afternoon, as much as Jon tries to go back to his book, he can’t quite stop thinking. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, in a way that makes him jittery and anxious and makes it impossible to focus on the words in front of him. He stays late to make up for it, and when he finally calls it a day, the other researchers that share his office have already left. Jon puts on his coat and grabs his bag, and goes to check on Tim.

The door to Tim’s office is still open, although all the desks are currently unoccupied. Tim’s desk is a bit of a mess, filled with piled up papers and books and too many empty cups of tea. With their earlier conversation about the case still on the forefront of his mind, Jon gives in to the temptation to step closer and skim through the texts scattered on the desk.

It doesn’t take long until his gaze falls onto what looks like the copy of a police report. Carefully, he pulls the paper out from underneath a book. It’s undoubtedly the missing person’s report Tim has mentioned. The address fits to the area of the case he was working on. Jon starts reading, and immediately stills.

It hits him suddenly that Tim had never mentioned the name of the missing person. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that there are actual people behind the cases they’re researching. But there’s the name, right next to a photograph.

In the photo, Martin Blackwood is looking directly at the camera, a small smile on his lips. Jon takes a moment to take him in - the pudgy cheeks covered in freckles, the sad eyes, the light brown hair falling in soft curls around his face. An actual person, with a life and friends and family who must wonder what has happened to him after he disappeared a year ago. Who maybe still have hope that one day, he will come back.

So far, Jon was only a little irritated that Elias intervened in their investigation. Now, he’s suddenly furious.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Jon pulls out his phone and takes a photograph of the report. He places it back on Tim’s desk and leaves.

As he walks to the tube station, he pulls up the address on his phone. He takes the train that goes in the opposite direction of where he lives, changes trains twice, and finally, half an hour later, steps out into the chill September air. By now, it’s already getting dark. Jon pulls up the collar of his coat to protect himself against the cold, and begins to walk towards the haunted flat where Martin Blackwood disappeared.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #jonmartim #jontim #my fic #my fic: all that haunts us #it's heeere #my very first tma multichapter #and actually my longest ever fic #that I actually edit and upload #I have an entire rough draft done so I think regular updates will be fine?

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kaitycole · 4 years ago

Text

A fall from grace

Summary: The story of how Simeon’s wings change from a pure white to a corrupted black.

Pairing: Simeon x gn!reader

Word Count: 4636

Warnings: Angst. Briefly mentioned suggestive themes.

A/N: This is my first Obey Me piece. I’ve had this head canon in my head for a while and decided to finally write it down. I hope I did the characters justice.

Thanks to @newfriendjen for beta reading.

Simeon is looking at his reflection in the bathroom connected to his room. The room is slightly bigger than his old room, Diavolo had insisted Simeon accept the new arrangements and who was he to tell the Demon Prince no?

He wonders if Lilith had felt this way when she had fallen for a human. If she felt this empty and hollow feeling, the isolating despair of falling for someone she shouldn’t have. They say that love is this beautiful and warm emotion, people have sold their soul for the chance to feel love’s warmth once in their lives. If so, why on earth did Simeon end up feelings so cold and alone? Why did he instead feel bitterness and rage when he thought of love, when he thought of you?

* * One year ago

When Simeon was told he would be part of an exchange program in Devildom, he wasn’t sure how he felt. He knew how he should feel, honored that he had been selected, but slightly worried about how things would pan out especially with Lucifer. Before the war, they were extremely close, but then he chose to stand against Lucifer and his brothers.

Luke was sent with him and Simeon was thankful for it because instead of sitting around overthinking everything, he could focus on helping Luke. That was until he saw you and then nothing made sense. He wasn’t sure what the feeling in his chest was, he’d never felt anything like it before, like butterflies fluttering against his ribcage. Or how his heart started thumping into those same ribs when you scrunched up your nose as you smiled at him.

* * 10 months ago

Everything was going exceptionally well for the exchange program and Simeon was thankful for that. Luke wasn’t in love with being around the demons and acted somewhat like a puppy dog, but other than that, Simeon had no complaints. Other than when you came around and his calm demeanor seemed to vanish. He was a confident angel, not arrogant or prideful, but confident yet something about you, just some random human, had his stomach in knots and words tripping over each other.

If you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it which he was grateful for. You would just patiently wait for him to eventually get the words out, smiling with the purest look in your eyes. Eventually the word jumble stopped and he stopped being so nervous but that butterfly sensation never left.

Though he starts to experience something else he hadn’t before when he sees the brothers gathered around you, Mammon loudly proclaiming you were his human, which left Simeon perturbed. He felt this odd, almost tense feeling when one of them would put their hand on you or their arm around your waist, their touch lingering for longer than the composed angel cared for it to.

* * 9 months ago

“Thank you for inviting me!” You smiled up at him and he felt that fluttering sensation in his chest get stronger.

He’d been in Devildom for a while yet there were still areas that he hadn’t explored. The two of you were walking towards the eastern side, unsure of what exactly was out there. If it wasn’t for the camera in his hands, he wouldn’t have been able to stop them from shaking.

“Thank you for joining me, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t pass up a date with you, Simeon.” You teased, that’s what he called it when he asked you, ‘a little date’ but hearing the word come out of your mouth made it feel heavy on his tongue.

Things were relatively relaxing, the two of you walking down the sidewalk. You pointed at what looked like a park and started posing for pictures. Simeon laughed, snapping each pose with precision after you told him to make sure to get your good side, but he didn’t think you had a bad side.

“Simeon, look!” You grabbed his hand, pulling him behind you and that’s when he swore everyone around could hear his heart trying to burst through his chest. His mouth went dry and even if he had tried, no words would’ve left his mouth. Your hand felt warm in his, like it just fit in place, easily molding to the shape of his own hand.

What he wasn’t expecting was the empty feeling that came when you dropped his hand, having arrived at the small stand you had pointed out. The way his hand suddenly felt like it was missing something, no he hadn’t planned on that. Or how you looked back at him with a twinkle in your eye when you held up a chain with a small stone on it next to his face, beaming that it matched his eyes so you had to buy it. No, he hadn’t expected that.

Now I’ll always remember our little day together! You had proudly told him as you headed back towards your respective houses. He didn’t like the way he felt when you opened the door of the House of Lamentation waving goodbye or how he could hear Mammon yelling about his human going off without him. No, he didn’t like that at all.

Luke jumped up and down, eager to see all the pictures that Simeon told him he would take. Luke didn’t like Devildom or being around demons, but he liked you and if you were in the pictures, he could ignore the background.

“Luke, how do I ask this a question?”

“Huh?”

“You said someone could ask it a question and it would search for the answer.” He pointed at his D.D.D.

“OH!” Luke laughed, Simeon was good at many things and was a great teacher when the moment called for it, but he was completely helpless when it came to technology. He could make phone calls fine, but he used the ‘hunt and peck’ method when it came to typing, Luke couldn’t stand how Simeon would hold the phone in one hand and use his index finger to tap each letter on the screen, drove him crazy.

After Luke had explained it, three times for good measure, Simeon was confident that he could manage this task. He pulled up the internet, trying to search the way he had been feeling, wondering if maybe it was some side effect of being in Devildom as opposed to the Celestial Realm.

A crush? There’s no way. He shook his head in disbelief. Clearly, he had messed up somehow, typed the wrong words or something, right? But he kept reading, continued to read the same thing just a few different ways and came up with the only conclusion though it didn’t seem logical to him: he was falling for you.

He tossed the phone on his bed, walking into the bathroom, flaring out his wings. He felt odd keeping them away through the day, in the Celestial Realm everyone kept theirs out. His eyes stopped, widening as he saw a gray feather sticking out painfully in the sea of pure white. He plucked it, looking at it before thinking maybe it was just some effect of the air in Devildom. He’d have to ask Satan if he knew anything about that later.

* * 7 months ago

The two of you had only gotten closer as the days passed, spending most of his free time in your presence which you didn’t mind at all. It had started when you asked him if he could help you study, Luke had been bragging about how he helped him and Simeon was thrilled. The two of you started by sitting across from one another and eventually you could be found sitting shoulder to shoulder.

Soon it wasn’t just his days that were filled with you, but his nights too. You had asked him over to House of Lamentations to watch a film and it ended up being an almost daily thing, each taking turns on picking the movie. Then it happened, completely by accident, he had fallen asleep sitting up against the wall and when he did wake up at some ungodly hour, you were sleeping peacefully leaning against him. He had tried to move carefully so that you’d remain asleep, unbothered by his movements, but you woke almost immediately, as if the lack of his body against yours sent off some internal alarm.

“Simeon?” Sleep coated your words, eyes barely opened, Simeon always thought you looked lovely, but this was different, this was a sight not everyone saw and he was thankful he had gotten to.

“Yes, dear?”

You grabbed at him, moving somewhat sluggish from your half-sleepy state, “stay.”

It was then that he understood why ‘a crush’ kept coming up when he searched the things he felt. He no longer cared about rules or regulations, what angels should or shouldn’t do, how they should act, because in that moment the only thing he cared about was fulfilling your demand. He climbed back into your bed, wrapping an arm around you and he felt an ache in his chest when you rolled over in his arms, burying your face into his chest.

The next morning had been awkward. Mammon was the one who found the two of you and Simeon quickly learned that Mammon yelled regardless of the time of day. That commotion brought Satan and Asmo to your room both complaining about Mammon’s yelling. Eventually Beel and Levi showed up when they realized no one else was in the dining room. As everyone started to talk over each other, voices getting louder and harder to ignore, Lucifer showed up bringing some semblance of order to the room.

You had gotten mad, completely pissed at the brothers’ behavior and how you had been woken up by someone screaming, how they had embarrassed you in front of your guest. You mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to Simeon, who had just been sitting there, he knew his mediation skills might work on one or two demons at a time, but not six. When everyone finally left, Mammon made it a point to make it known he was staying right outside your door until you came out, Simeon gave you a small smile.

He was on his way out when Asmo gave him a knowing expression, winking at the angel. Simeon walked by ignoring him because right now all he felt was shame. It seemed he had put you in an awkward position and he hated that, he never wanted to do that. All he had wanted was to fulfill what you had wanted from him the night before. It wasn’t until Lucifer’s gaze landed on him, that he truly felt sick. He didn’t have to say anything to Simeon for him to know what Lucifer was thinking, what his expression was saying: Lilith.

* * 5 months ago

Simeon had found more, slightly darker gray feathers invading his wings each night and the fact Satan couldn’t seem to find anything about it bothered him. Although angels don’t typically stay in Devildom, so he wasn’t too surprised. He wanted to ask Luke, but Luke would fret and report it to Michael and Simeon really didn’t want anyone to worry.

He had a feeling that it might be related to his feelings for you, but he didn’t want it to be true, so he hoped maybe if he could deny it for a little longer, another reason would appear. It didn’t, in fact it only got worse.

You had found him, brows knitted together in the library, face full of concentration. You had plopped down on his lap which frightened him before he processed that it was you. Your smile erased away the worry lines that were stretched across his forehead, your presence acting as a comforting agent, relaxing him almost instantly.

“Can we hang out in Purgatory Hall tonight?”

“Any particular reason?” He smiled at you, the fluttering sensation filled his chest when you lean your head against his shoulder.

“Luke said he was trying out new recipes.” You teased, “and you’ll be there.”

His heart swelled in his chest, a warm feeling coursed through him and it wasn’t like anything he had ever felt before. He had always known that emotions, feelings, were complex, but what he didn’t understand was how one simple human could cause so many emotions in him.

“Simeon, you have some…“ you tried to point to where the icing was on his lips, the right corner, but he kept missing it. Luke had made cupcakes and you managed to convince him to have one before bed.

“Did I get it?” The look on his face was completely innocent and you found it adorable, but no he didn’t get it.

You pushed up on your tiptoes, crashing your lips into his before your tongue flicked against his lips, wiping the icing away. He froze under your actions, mostly confused but afraid that if he moved, he’d realize it was just some dream.

When he doesn’t pull away, you press forward a little and then the blood returns to his brain and he realizes what’s happening. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as his lips started to move with yours. You swallowed a moan that escaped his lips when your tongue brushed up against him, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Several moments later, when you pulled away, Simeon was breathless, heart racing like stallions in an open field, pounding into his rib cage, threatening to crack them open. He watched you turn away, tucking you head down by your shoulder. He placed a hand on your cheek, pulling your attention back to him and he gave you a smile. Stepping forward, he placed a light kiss on your forehead.

For someone with wings, this was the first time he felt like he was floating. As he made his way up the stairs, he finally accepted the search results, finally understood the answers he had gotten. And it was something that he couldn’t wait to see if you shared those same feelings.

Though the world came crashing down around him when he flared out his wings, shiny obsidian speckled throughout the upper parts of his wings, just under the arch. Simeon was intelligent, he knew what all the signs pointed to, that the blackened feathers were some symbol of his feelings for you, a direct correlation. But feelings aren’t always logical, emotions aren’t always rational and Simeon, with all of his book smarts, knowledge he’s acquired through the years, it all gets completely ignored. Because Simeon was in love and love makes anyone, even an angel, do irrational things.

* * 3 months ago

Simeon knew better but ignoring the issue was better than dealing with it if it meant you didn’t know. He didn’t want you to know, to worry or blame yourself. He could handle it and he hadn’t found any new black feathers recently. Surely that meant something positive, right?

The two of you are sitting on his bed, he’s sitting up against the pillows while you’re between his legs, back on his chest, reading. He loved listening to your voice, he especially enjoyed you reading his own works. Somehow those words felt different, held a new meaning when you said them. You tilted your head back and looked up at Simeon who leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You turned further into his chest, repositioning yourself to straddle his lap as his hand trailed down your sides, gripping your hips. You had kissed him before, he had kissed you several times since the first one you shared two months ago, but this kiss is more heated, an almost aggressive kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him open-mouthed as your tongues brushed against each other’s, his fingers dug into your waist. A soft groan filled the empty space around you as you grind your lap against his, your fingers tangled into the back of his hair, tugging slightly.

His lips traveled down your neck, teeth gently nipped at the exposed skin. Each kiss, nip, mark made by either of you was careful and had purpose, symbolically claiming each other for all to know. Your hands slid underneath his shirt, palms spread over his bare chest, he sucked air in quickly through clenched teeth. He toyed with the edges of your shirt before you nod, he pulled it over your head, taking you in.

Piece by piece, clothing was stripped off, tossed onto the floor. Simeon had a hand on your cheek, looking down at you with the sweetest expression anyone ever had. You raised a hand, covering his, a small smile on your face.

“Are you sure, Simeon?”

He leaned down, catching your lips with his, leaving a chaste kiss. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

* * 2 months ago

Simeon sat on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, a heavy weight sat in his chest. He hadn’t left his room in almost a week, after three of those days he finally crawled out of bed and made it to the floor. A very worried Luke paced outside of the room and Solomon even offered his assistance, asking if there was any kind of potion he could make for the distraught angel. But no one received an answer, the door remained shut until Beel asked Luke what was bothering while the two made desserts and the younger angel, who wore his heart on his sleeve, blurted out his worries and then Beel turned to his eldest brother.

Lucifer had already felt something like this could happen, that it would happen. There was something about you that drew in everyone, like a moth to a flame. There was a danger that seemed to affect those who hovered too closely to you, those who weren’t paying attention to how close they, the moth, were getting to you, the flame, and much like a flame, you didn’t fully understand the damage you could do.

Lucifer knocked out of proper protocol even though he knew he’d just end up walking in since Simeon wasn’t going to answer. While he wasn’t sure what he was going to find when he opened the door, what he did see, what he stumbled into was far from anything he could’ve expected.

Feathers. There were feathers everywhere, scattered throughout the room, similar to how Hollywood portrays the aftermath of a pillow fight. Various shades of gray and black feathers covered the bed, chairs, desk, a few light and airy down feathers floated through the air as Lucifer walked further into the room.

A broken Simeon looked up, but his eyes never met Lucifer’s, how could they? Simeon was filled with shame, regret, maybe even a little remorse. There was a time when Simeon felt that he had done the right thing, standing against Lucifer, but now he questions himself. Without Lucifer, Simeon doubted Diavolo could’ve pulled off the exchange program, that part of Michael’s approval had been due to Lucifer’s involvement. That if things had been different, if Lucifer was still in his original home, the Celestial Realm, then Simeon wouldn’t feel this way. He knew it was wrong to think that, to put his own feelings in front of another’s, but selfishness was a new emotion to the angel and he was starting to see the appeal.

When he extended his wings out, he didn’t have to see Lucifer’s face to know the prideful demon was in shock, his eyes were probably just ever so slightly widened, mouth in a straight line only to prevent it from dropping open. His wings resembled what could be described as molting, bare patches through the wings where the ends where uneven, very few feathers left were white, they were mostly black now. There were raw patches where Simeon had over-plucked the black feathers in an emotional rage, thinking if they were removed, maybe white ones would return, but they didn’t. Every feather, whether plucked or shed, was the color of coal, the opposite of the once snowy colored ones.

Lucifer immediately jumped into his fix-it mode, going down the list in his head on possible ways to fix this, but Simeon just shook him head, this couldn’t be fixed by paying off some witch like with Mammon’s debt or locking someone in the attic like with Belphie’s defiant attitude. It’s not until Lucifer suggested getting you when his voice is no longer the only one filling the space around the two of them, he looked at Simeon a bit confused as he learned why the angel no longer wished to see you.

Two weeks had passed since you and Simeon found yourself tangled in each other’s arms, spending the late hours of the night learning the contours of each other’s bodies, expressing the deep feelings felt for the other. Or at least that’s what Simeon had thought.

It was just a Tuesday when Simeon’s already fragile world fell apart, crumbling around him while he stood frozen as he tried rounding the corner of the hallway. It had been your voice that peaked his attention, had his heart beating a little faster, your paths hadn’t been crossing much since that night and he just wanted to assure you that his feelings hadn’t changed. But it looked like yours had.

Your back had been pressed flush against the wall, your voice just as breathless as it had been for him just weeks ago. Mammon’s forearm was pressed against the wall by the side of your head, he leaned closer to you, your faces almost touching. Simeon hadn’t known who started the exchange, how you, his little lamb, ended up in such a state, but he did see you press into the greedy demon, your lips touching into his first.

There was a pang in his chest, but he didn’t know what it meant, he felt jealousy before, but this was different, this was painful. He watched a flustered Mammon try to form sentences, ending up sputtering out the question ‘what about Simeon?’

“I think I only liked his innocence.” Your words stung him, tears pooled in his eyes and he tried blinking as hard as he could to try to see your expression. But all you did was shrug, “he doesn’t mean anything.”

Mammon started to loudly boast about how no one could compare to THE Mammon and was only silenced when you once again pulled him into your lips. Simeon wanted to leave, he’d seen more than enough, but it was like he was stuck in a trace, the only thing that pulled him out was the click of the abandoned classroom’s door after you had pulled Mammon in the room, by his tie, the demon kicking the door shut with his heel.

He had gone back to Purgatory Hall, ignoring Luke and Solomon as they tried to ask what was wrong. He shut his bedroom door and proceeded to destroy it. Books were yanked off the shelves, chairs flung across the room and it was then that he knew what the feeling was that rooted itself in his chest, that made the burning sensation as it flowed through his veins, it was wrath.

* * One month ago

“I can’t believe it’s already time to go back.” Luke said, the words seemed positive, but all those around could tell the young angel was a little sad to be leaving. Despite his initial distaste for the demon brothers, he did manage to establish a decent relationship with the demon of gluttony.

“The time really just flew by.” You said, Mammon’s arm snaked around your waist, Simeon didn’t know if it was a protective gesture or territorial one, not that he really cared much anymore.

After Simeon had stumbled upon you and Mammon entangled with one another, the two of you didn’t really see each other. You never directly told him things were over, that your feelings for him had gone, he figured it out when you ignored his calls, stopped meeting him in the library. The final blow was when he walked up to Asmo and Solomon, stopping just as he heard Asmo complaining about you and Mammon and your late-night extracurriculars. Asmo gave him a comforting hug, but Simeon didn’t really return it, excusing himself to Purgatory Hall.

“Are you sure you can’t go back with me, Simeon?” Luke asked, tightly clinging to the other angel’s white cape.

Simeon smiled, but it wasn’t his old smile that was filled with love and understanding, this was just muscle movement on his part. He wasn’t sure how to tell Luke that he wouldn’t be going back, that he didn’t belong there anymore. It was selfish, but he knew Michael would know how to tell him, Luke treated Michael’s word like it was gospel.

He didn’t have a chance to answer before your voice ripped through the room, getting caught in the tension that stood between the two of you.

“Why aren’t you going back?”

Simeon used to be able to read your expressions, to almost feel your emotions, but now he knew you even less than he had when he first met you. He used to be an open book when it came to you, telling you whatever you wanted to know about him, but now he didn’t want you to know anything.

“I need him to tie up some loose ends with the program is all.” Diavolo stepped in, diplomatic as ever. He had heard from Lucifer about Simeon’s situation. The two didn’t know each other too well, he knew the look on Simeon’s face very well, it was eerily similar to the expression Lucifer had on his face when he first met him.

You were the last one to leave, each brother giving you a long goodbye filled with one or two of their favorite memories with you. Mammon acted like he didn’t care that much that you were leaving, but everyone knew better. Simeon had stayed through all of that to be polite, he didn’t offer you any farewell, but when he turned to leave you reached out, grabbing hold of his wrist.

You had asked him to wish you well and maybe you honestly didn’t mean anything bad by it, but it still hurt Simeon. Your words still had Lucifer and Diavolo share a look between them as Simeon just turned and walked away from you without a word. You tried grabbing out for his cape but your fingers just barely brushed the bottom of it and when you went to turn away something caught your attention. A black feather fell from underneath the cape, slowly falling before landing where the angel was once standing.

* * Present day

Simeon stares into the mirror, a full pair of wings that looked like they were dipped in black ink are behind him. There was once a time in Simeon’s life where he loved having his wings out, where he hated the idea of having them hidden, wanting to show off the pure white pair. But now, he never wanted to see his wings again, he hated them.

He brings his hand up, slamming it into the glass, breaking it, cracks splinter across the smooth surface. His reflection now looks fractured and he snorts at how accurate that was, how fitting the image looks for a fallen angel.

Lucifer often tells him that he knows how he feels, for Simeon to not forget that he too was an angel once. But Simeon tells him that he couldn’t possibly understand how he feels; Lucifer fell with honor, he fell because of his love for his sister whereas Simeon fell for nothing.

#obey me!#swd obey me #simeon x reader #obey me simeon #obey me angst #obey me

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