#and when someone is VERY openly telling every hot person the same things over and over i find it discouraging lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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ttuesday · 2 years ago

Note

heyy can you do some headcanons of how the fellers would react to you being in a rival gang but the chemistry between you both is hot af

It’s been a while but I’m back with headcanons! <3

Arthur

Arthur is hesitant to speak to you, knowing you can’t be trusted. For a while, he prefers to avoid any communication with you and just keeps his head down whenever you’re near. But when Arthur finally talks to you, his biggest worry becomes a reality; you’re really likeable.

You’re not what he was expecting, much friendlier and good humoured than he imagined anyone from a rival gang. Nonetheless, when Arthur starts to relax around you, he reminds himself that you’re technically an enemy and he puts his walls up again.

Flirting always makes him somewhat flustered but Arthur really feels the chemistry between you both when you’re having an intimate conversation, opening up about how y’all ended up as outlaws. After having a few heart to hearts, Arthur believes you’re a true friend and always tries to make time for you.

Charles

Charles is cagey around most people but that doesn’t mean he thinks you’re just another enemy of the Van der Linde gang. As someone who’s faced a lot of prejudice, Charles likes to give people a chance and doesn’t judge you based on your gang affiliations.

Whenever Charles sees you hanging around the same area as the gang, he knows things are going to get interesting (for better or for worse) and he usually likes to give you a heads up if there are any not as friendly Van der Linde gang members lurking around.

He likes you and wants to give you the benefit of the doubt. Charles thinks you’re a good person in a bad situation, similar to other people in the gang but don’t expect him to be soft on you if y’all are on opposing sides during a job.

Dutch

Dutch doesn’t give you the time of day at first, wanting to keep his distance from any rival gangs. If he does speak to you, it’s to sneakily feed you fake information so you’ll misinform your gang of any upcoming jobs... yeah, he’ll do almost anything to give his gang the upper hand.

But he does find you quite entertaining, especially when you get annoyed at him. Dutch is a slow burn though, taking a few months to feel as if he can somewhat trust you and discuss some potential jobs you could both team up to do. When y’all get together and go on robberies, things get chaotic and Dutch lives for it.

There’s mutual respect between you both but Dutch loves to tease you so expect lots of ribbing whenever y’all bump into each other. He’s the kinda guy that would openly say he dislikes you even though everyone in both gangs knows Dutch would be there for you if you ever needed help.

Micah

Initially, Micah is very apprehensive of you, trying his best to taunt and intimidate you. Anytime Micah meets someone from another gang, he gets defensive, practically waiting for a reason to shoot. But when your chemistry together becomes obvious, Micah supposes he could be a little more welcoming to you.

Micah absolutely loves to flirt with you but don’t be fooled, he’ll also stab you in the back without a second thought. He likes his strange friendship with you, how you can both chat over a couple of whiskeys but also have a shootout in matter of minutes. It’s basically the definition of a love/hate relationship.

He’s willing to do a lot more than flirt with you *wink wink* but if y’all get a hotel room, there’s a 100% guarantee that Micah will steal your weapons when he’s leaving the next morning just to annoy you. Oh and he will bring it up every opportunity he gets.

John

John tries to act cool and keep to himself whenever he knows other gangs are in the area but the second y’all start talking, he involuntarily lets his guard down, especially when you both get into some flirty back and forth.

John knows he should be extra cautious around you just in case this is some kind of ploy but the second you make him laugh, John’s practically head over heels. Every fibre in his body is telling him not to trust you but he still feels like you both have enough in common to have some kind of alliance.

John tries his best to keep things professional, knowing you can never be more than friendly acquaintances while in rival gangs. Though be warned, he may mention it once or twice that you’d be a great addition to the Van der Linde gang hint hint

Javier

Javier is extremely loyal to the gang so he wants nothing to do with you as long as you’re a member of another gang. The way Javier sees it, why on earth would he want to fraternise with other gangs? Especially one that directly rivals them.

It takes a while for Javier’s walls to come down. Even in speaking to you, he worries Dutch might see it as some kind of betrayal. Although he won’t admit it to himself, Javier can feel his chest tighten whenever you’re near, a sense of excitement in the air.

Javier’s never felt so torn before, adoring the spark you both share but knowing the gang would never approve of him talking to you. In all honesty, he has no idea how he’s going to handle this.

Bill

He’s welcoming at first, loving the attention you’re giving him but the very millisecond Bill discovers you’re apart of a rival gang, his mood shifts, becoming more cold towards you as he leaves. He doesn’t want anything to do with you after realising who you are, knowing Dutch will give him shit for even speaking to you in the first place.

Deep down, Bill can’t stop thinking about you or how you make him feel but he knows he has to convince himself otherwise. But goddamn, the hold you have on this man is incredible. Whenever you speak to him, he gets so flustered, shushing you in case anyone sees y’all talking.

Bill would have to go through each stage of enemies to lovers before ever trusting you fully. He can’t believe the effect you have on him, mainly because he still tries his best to deny it.

Sean

When Sean first met you, he thought you were too good to be true. You matched his energy, understood his humour and you could joke around with him for hours. But then he found out, his heart sinking as he realised what gang you were in.

Sean really tries to push any feelings he has for you deep, deep down. His loyalties are to the gang and he knows he would get into trouble if they saw him mingling with the likes of you. If he still sees you around, Sean usually teases you about your terrible choice to join the rival gang and not the Van Der Linde gang.

When he’s with you, Sean needs to constantly remind himself that you’re practically the enemy and that y’all can’t be friends (or anything more). It’s a frustrating situation but what annoys Sean even more is that he knows he’ll be there for you in a heartbeat if you ever need him.

Hosea

Hosea doesn’t judge you based on your affiliations with a rival gang, he judges you based on your individual character. No matter who Hosea meets, he’ll always be cautious at first but he can let down some of his walls the more he interacts with you and figures out what kind of person you are.

But Hosea knows his first priority is the gang. Of course if you’re ever in some extremely dangerous situation then Hosea will try to help but he’ll always have some doubts while you’re in a rival gang.

If you ever fall out with your gang or need somewhere to stay then Hosea will vouch for you, proposing that you stay with the gang in the meantime. He knows you have a good heart and that’s enough to make him believe in you.

Trelawny

While Trelawny always makes sure to be attentive around outlaws he isn’t familiar with, he isn’t mean to you. He understands that life is tough so he doesn’t hold the fact that your gang has stolen a few jobs from them against you.

Trelawny absolutely LIVES for some flirtatious banter and how you both have this ‘will they, won’t they’ energy together. The second he knows you’re in town, he starts planning a job for you to do together.

Josiah has the mentality that even though you’re both in rival gangs, surely it doesn’t hurt to do a few small cons and robberies together as long as the profits are split evenly. He knows if Dutch ever hears about it then he might implode but Trelawny can't help his desire to be around you.

Kieran

Kieran knows you could kill him about ten different ways all in under a minute. And while yes, you definitely scare him, he’s confusingly turned on by how intimidated he is of you too. It’s a lot of contradicting emotions and Kieran really doesn’t know how to react.

He knows he shouldn’t trust you or even talk to you, scared that if the gang sees him talking to you then they might think Kieran’s betraying them. But even though he tries to get you out of his mind, he can’t stop thinking of you. There’s just something about you that he can’t quite put his finger on but you fascinate him endlessly.

Kieran keeps his distance, not wanting to risk the gang’s trust but if you even get into trouble or if you’re in danger then Kieran will throw caution to the wind and do everything in his power to help you.

Lenny

Lenny knows that even though you’re in a rival gang, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re an enemy to the gang. Lenny’s been in some tough situations in life so he’s fully aware that you mightn’t agree with your gang's actions or maybe you don’t even want to be in a gang but you have to in order to survive.

When he first saw you, Lenny was very intimidated but felt hot under the collar too. He has to remind himself to be cautious around you, knowing Dutch will go on a long speech if Lenny lets his guard down and you steal some upcoming job from them or take some supplies.

But Lenny gives you a chance and he has to admit, it’s hard to keep his guard up around you, especially since you both have great banter together. Anytime he bumps into you, y’all usually spend some time laughing and friendly teasing each other before parting ways again. Yeah, the gang love to tease Lenny about how obviously he has the hots for you.

#thank u anon love u #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #writings #headcanons #arthur morgan #charles smith #dutch van der linde #micah bell #john marston #javier escuella #bill williamson #sean macguire #hosea matthews #josiah trelawny #kieran duffy #lenny summers

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wonda-cat · 4 years ago

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Misconceptions About Tommyinnit’s Character That Genuinely INFURIATE Me

Since the recent events following the second L’Manburg Festival and subsequent war, I’ve seen many, many hot takes surrounding the nature of Tommyinnit’s character on the SMP. Some of which annoyed me to the point where I felt compelled to sit down and actually write this. I’m going to only be highlighting the most common complaints or questions I’ve seen, one by one, in hopes of providing a better understanding of Tommy’s character for anyone interested. (I also briefly discuss Techno and Tubbo’s characters as well.)

If you’ve said similar things to what I’m going to be discussing below, please know that it’s perfectly understandable how you’d come to these conclusions. Some of these aspects of Tommy’s character are not always obvious; especially if being watched from another streamer’s POV. This may become quite lengthy, so bear with me for now.

“Tommy’s motives are all over the place. He can’t decide whether he wants the discs back or not.”

Tommy is actually one of the most motivationally consistent characters on the entire Dream SMP. Even Techno, someone completely confident in their ideals, does more motivational flipping than Tommy. From the very start of the story, Tommy has always cared for three things; L’Manburg, Tubbo, and his music discs. However, him caring for something is not itself a motivation.

Surprisingly enough, his motivation isn’t even just, ‘Get my discs back,’ like many assume it is. Tommy’s one true motivation, since the end of the Independence War, has always been, ‘Keep things the way they are now.’

Tommy’s one fatal flaw is that he is resistant to change and refuses to let go of the past. This is seen through all of his actions and words; in all conflicts involving him. This flaw is the drive to all of Tommy’s mistakes. Burning down George’s house, an action which resulted in him getting exiled, was done out of a desire to pull pranks the way he used to before the first war. His friendship with Ranboo started because Tommy said he reminded him of Tubbo, back before he was President.

Tommy still talks highly of Wilbur because he chooses to remember him as the wise, kind mentor who cared for him. This motive is the reason he defends L’Manburg so fiercely; it’s his memory of a better past. This is why he holds grudges more often than any other character; especially refusing to forgive Techno after he killed Tubbo during the Manburg Massacre.

It’s why Tommy falls under extreme distress whenever Tubbo or Quackity tell him that something will never be the same again. This motivation is entirely formed from an underlying desire for peace and comfort, something Tommy has been denied since being forced into a life wrought with war and death. To accept change, to Tommy, is painful and terrifying. But he will only ever truly be happy when he finally learns to let go.

“Why do the discs matter so much to Tommy? They’re not actually worth anything.”

Tommy’s discs are much more than just any ordinary pair of music discs. They were never important for their material worth, but for what Tommy was willing to sacrifice in order to keep them. Tommy is entirely what gives the discs their value.

Tommy also commonly operates under the Sunk-Cost Fallacy, wherein he’s invested too much of himself into something to just abandon it, even if it’s causing him problems. This mentality is a huge piece of what keeps him tied to both L’Manburg and to his discs. He’s sacrificed too much at this point to simply let them go. If he admits the discs are worthless, then he’s admitting that he wasted all this time and effort, just to keep them.

The discs also act as a constant source of hope for Tommy because they are directly tied with his motivations as a character. They’re something he’s had since the very beginning. They’re something he used to listen to with Tubbo on their shared bench.

To Tommy, they symbolize a life before war, filled with comfort and peace. They are a love letter to his country and his late mentor Wilbur. They are a physical representation of Tubbo’s companionship. They are the only thing, besides L’Manburg and his best friend, that gives him the hope that he can one day return things to the way they used to be.

This ideal, paired with Tommy’s refusal to let go, has left him ruthlessly pursuing the things he’s lost. Not his music discs, but his peace and comfort, his friendship, his country, his mentor Wilbur, and his life before war.

In his desperation to hold onto his prized possession, it has only hurt and pushed away the people that love him. If Tommy continues to ignore this reality, while still refusing to resolve his major flaw entwined with it, he will lose all that the discs had once stood for. He will lose his country, then his friend Tubbo, and then he will lose himself.

“Tommy never grows or learns from his mistakes. This makes him a badly written character.”

Characters do not have to constantly learn from their actions to be well-written. Tommy is one of the best examples of this. The fact that his growth is infrequent is the entire point of his character; it’s completely stemmed from his fatal flaw.

By addressing himself, he would be accepting change, something that terrifies him; something he stubbornly resists until he is absolutely forced to confront it. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy knows when he makes mistakes, but he pretends to be ignorant as to avoid facing reality. He digs his head in the sand despite knowing better, puppeteering the person he used to be during happier times, now gone.

In spite of his infrequent growth, the idea that Tommy still hasn’t learned anything isn’t quite correct either. Tommy, as of the last three plot streams, has shown incredible character development. By giving up his discs again, he had finally demonstrated that Tubbo is more important to him than his possessions. Speaking as a makeshift leader, he put aside his issues with others to rally them together against a common threat, something which Tommy had never been able to do before. He owned up to all of his mistakes openly, apologizing to everyone he’s ever hurt in one place.

He apologized to Tubbo after they were reunited and came to terms with the fact that Tubbo was forced to exile him without choice, finally forgiving him. He was kind to Sapnap and learned how to be his friend after months of bitter rivalry. And these are only a few examples. This isn’t to say Tommy has overcome/fixed everything because he clearly hasn’t. There are still major things Tommy needs to work through that remain unaddressed, the biggest being his complicated relationship with Technoblade.

“Tommy only cares about himself. He does everything in his power to be the hero, always putting himself in the center of attention, especially during Doomsday.”

Tommy, since the start of the L’Manburg War for Independence, has never set out to be a hero. Not once. He may fall into the role of the protagonist, but his identity as a hero was pushed onto him by others. Giving up the discs was his only option during the Independence War.

So when Wilbur called him a hero for it, Tommy said he didn’t feel like he was. During the November 16th War, Tommy again said he didn’t feel like a hero because he had lost what he thought was everything at the time. During exile, Tommy certainly knew he was no hero. And upon reuniting with Tubbo, he admitted to feeling like the farthest thing from it. That he’d hurt everyone and all he wanted to do now was fix it.

The day before Doomsday, Tommy only took a leadership position because no one else was willing to, filling the role for Tubbo, who was crumbling under pressure. He had no choice but to try to bring everyone together, or fight alone. Most viewers never saw this during Doomsday, but before the battle, almost everyone who had vowed to fight alongside L’Manburg had abandoned them the very next day. They were convinced it was going to be destroyed either way, no matter what they did, so they chose not to see it through to the end; ultimately leaving Tommy and those who remained to fight a losing battle, alone.

After about a third of the way through the battle, it became clear to everyone that they could do nothing to win. One by one, everyone stopped fighting and stood by to watch their country go up in smoke. Tommy was the only person on the battlefield who refused to stand down and give up. And so he took over the role as leader again, trying his best to keep them alive, to keep Tubbo hopeful; to keep fighting, no matter what.

However, what most people don’t realize, is that this isn’t Tommy trying to be a hero or force himself into the spotlight. This is Tommy trying to convince himself to keep going. Because whenever things start to look hopeless, Tommy simply chooses to ignore them. He puts on a happy face and soldiers through it because that’s all he knows how to do. Tommy, at his core, is someone who wants peace through stagnation. He doesn’t want to fight, although causing the occasional friendly conflict is how he finds fun. He doesn’t set out to purposely hurt others.

Tommy may come across as self-centered, but this is because he is an extremely extroverted character. He finds energy and joy in the attention of others, both good and bad. It’s why he’s always seeking the approval of others and, oftentimes, will destructively insert himself into another person’s life in order to find it.

Out of every character in the story, Tommy is the most drawn to praise and positive reinforcement. He is constantly seeking out mentors and friends because Tommy needs someone else to help him feel confident in his own identity and abilities. It’s why Wilbur was such a positive influence on him. His boisterous confidence has always been a front because if anyone were to actually hurt him, he knows it will make his self-esteem crumble instantly.

This is part of why Dream’s manipulation was so effective against him. By isolating him, he’s left without energy and looking to another person’s guidance. Tommy outwardly may seem independent and rude, but just under the skin, he’s unconfident and lost when he’s by himself. Tommy will only grow from this flaw when he finds his own identity and inner confidence; when he finally learns to be okay with being alone.

“Tommy goes to the festival solely to get his disc back and then tells Tubbo to give it away immediately after. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Before the screaming match between the two friends during the second L’Manburg Festival, Tommy had been in exile, manipulated by Dream for long enough to lose his will to carry on. It is because of him that Tommy’s reality becomes distorted, long after fleeing from his abuser. This mangling of ideals leads Tommy to subconsciously believe that L’Manburg and Tubbo are unsalvageable.

Therefore, the only thing he has hopes of retrieving are his discs, which are easier to manage than the latter two things. And so Tommy does reprehensible things at the behest of Techno in a vain hope of getting them back, going so far as to kidnap and torture for them. This ultimately culminates in a confrontation between the ex-friends, quickly turning violent. It is in this violence that we see Tommy has sunk to his absolute lowest point in his journey.

Swinging his axe, he nearly kills his friend as he delivers a string of words that cause the room to silence instantly. He says the discs were always worth more than his friend. Within the quiet of the room, Tommy is forced to reflect on everything he’s done. How he kidnapped and tortured Connor. How he accidentally drowned Fundy. How he traumatized Ranboo.

And now he’s hurt Tubbo, the one person he has always sought to protect; someone he vowed to never hurt. This realization causes Tommy to break. He’s so ashamed of himself that he can’t look at anyone. Tommy knows now that he is worse than anyone he’s ever hated.

With pain in his voice, he tries and fails to apologize to Tubbo in the moment. The only way he knows to redeem himself now is to prove to Tubbo, after everything, that he can still put the discs aside. And so he does.

“The fact that Tommy is still trying to get his discs back after L’Manburg was destroyed is unreasonable and ridiculous.”

Tommy deals with grief in an interesting way, doing something very similar to Techno. His grief almost instantly becomes anger and a drive to prove himself. It morphs into a need for vengeance in response to injustice, always.

After the destruction of L’Manburg, Tommy saying he wants the discs back is a double-sided motivator. The obvious side being: Tommy still needs them to feel comfort. The subtle side beneath it: Tommy is using them as an excuse to find Dream and kill him. To make him pay for helping destroy their home, hurting his friends, and abusing him in exile.

Upon the loss of his home, I’d also argue the discs have only grown more important to Tommy in the aftermath. Typically, in grief, people hold onto things that survive devastation far more than if the tragic event never occurred. If your eldest child dies, one may hold their surviving children tighter. If your house burns down, one may deeply treasure a box of items that survived the flames. Tommy’s desperation after losing so much is entirely understandable.

On top of this, the discs are still the core to Tommy’s fatal flaw. They are what keeps him from achieving total happiness, so him getting over this intrinsic part of himself so easily would make for an unsatisfying character arc. He still has to work for his happiness in order to change for the better.

To add, I’ve seen a lot of people complaining that Tommy is still prioritizing the discs over Tubbo, especially in that moment. And while I mostly agree, there are some interactions that stand out to me as being different between the pair that may imply otherwise. Tommy says a few times that despite L’Manburg being destroyed, he still has something left to lose; each time, turning to look at Tubbo.

This subtly implies that losing Tubbo would be as devastating as losing his home. Tubbo also never voices disagreement over Tommy’s continued pursuit of the item. However, Tubbo frequently does what he thinks will make others happy, so this doesn’t implicitly mean support for Tommy either. Besides these two things, this is still Tommy’s fatal flaw shining through, continuing to hurt others around him.

I only hope Tubbo can learn to stand up for himself and voice his real thoughts to Tommy now, after everything. It would provide at least some desperately-needed closure for Tubbo’s character.

“How could Tommy betray Techno like that? Techno told him upfront what he was going to do.”

While it’s true that Techno was obvious about his plans, Tommy was also just as upfront with Techno about what he thought of it. In fact, maybe even more so, considering Techno attempted to hide them from Tommy for a good portion of their partnership. Whenever Techno brought up the idea of destroying L’Manburg or hurting Tubbo, Tommy would always remind Techno that he didn’t want to hurt anyone. And that if Techno ever did, Tommy would be there to stand in his way. He never once stopped saying this.

Tommy’s two major positive character traits have always been his undying loyalty and his strength to never give up, even in the face of death. Two classically heroic qualities, both of which, ironically, reinforce his fatal flaw. His refusal to change makes him stubborn; stubbornness being the only quality that makes unwavering loyalty and extreme persistence feasible.

Because of these two traits, it was impossible from the start for Dream to completely break Tommy’s spirit and for Techno to get him to agree to anything too extreme. Despite this, Techno already had no hope of keeping Tommy on his side after the events of the day before the Festival. During it, Tommy had asked multiple times for Techno to give his word not to hurt anyone. That they’d only threaten to spawn a wither, get Techno’s remaining weapons in exchange, then leave. That’s it.

Techno avoided directly promising Tommy but still agreed not to regardless. So when Techno chose to spawn the wither anyway, despite Tommy urging them to leave multiple times, whatever trust Tommy had with him went completely out the window. Thus, when the threat was finally real, that Techno would make due on his promise to burn his home country to the ground and slaughter his friends, Tommy intervened. It would be unreasonable to expect Tommy not to stand against him in that moment, especially after his mental breakdown which ensued as a result of him nearly killing his best friend.

Adding salt to the wound on Tommy’s end, Techno decided to also align himself with Dream, someone Techno knew Tommy was afraid of. This might have been a way to purposely hurt Tommy. More likely, it was because Dream and him shared a common goal in the moment and Techno desperately needed allies.

However, the implication of Techno siding with Tommy’s abuser most certainly hurt him, regardless of its original intentions. This is possibly why Tommy kept insisting through Doomsday that Techno betrayed him, avoiding actually telling anyone the reason as to why. If he couldn’t find the words to describe what Dream did to him, even to Tubbo, he certainly wouldn’t be able to tell Techno either.

“Techno gave Tommy everything, only to be repaid with betrayal.”

This statement regarding Tommy is the one I see most often. (It is also the one I get the most heated about.)

Dream’s character is well known for his manipulation tactics against other characters; pitting them against each other, crushing them under his heel, bending their will to conform to his own. It’s what makes him an interesting villain. It’s something fun to discuss.

But is it still fun to discuss manipulation tactics if they’re so subtle, almost no one notices them? This is the paradigm Technoblade’s character falls into. While people know Techno for his laid-back personality, dry humor, and complex motivations, many fail to recognize him as a manipulator. The reason why this is so hard to spot is because it is mostly unintentional on behalf of the character. Dream performs his craft with intention, Techno does it without realizing.

As well as this being unwitting, it is sandwiched between Techno’s actual attempts to connect with Tommy and care for him. Thus, making the manipulation feel less damaging. The only problem is, this still hurts Tommy just as much, regardless of the intentions behind it. Especially after just escaping Dream, Tommy’s reality and sense of identity are horribly distorted. In this vulnerable state, he desperately needs healing and someone to help ground him. This is what makes him even more susceptible to Techno’s influence.

And because it is much subtler, it is harder to notice, and much harder to break free from. Despite Tommy claiming to hate Techno for what he did on November 16th, he still chose to flee to his house because it was the only place he could think of going, as well as being the safest area possible. After the failed execution, Techno mentioned potentially hurting Tubbo through a vengeance plot. Tommy voiced extreme distress over this, to which Techno threatened to kick him out of his house.

Tommy then says he’s fine being homeless because he doesn’t want anything to do with someone who would hurt his friend. This is when Techno decides to weaponize Tommy’s own trauma against him. To be fair to Techno again, Tommy never told him the extent of the abuse he suffered in exile. But Techno isn’t stupid. He knows Tommy is extremely afraid of Dream, and for good reason.

So he tells Tommy that if he were kicked out, he’d be defenseless. That if he were out there all alone, Dream would find him very easily. That Dream would drag him right back to Logstedshire in an instant. He notices the way Tommy reacts to this, how quickly he changes his mind about being kicked out. He continues to use this trauma repeatedly in order to keep Tommy under his roof, no matter how disagreeable he gets about Techno’s plans. He knows he can’t retrieve his weapons alone because he has no leverage.

Therefore, using Tommy like a wild card was a major side strategy. Techno knows it will hurt Tubbo by doing this and may make the President more willing to compromise. In addition to this, many of the strategies Techno utilizes are Narcissistic manipulation tactics, categorized by their intent to keep the victim in a position below the abuser in terms of worth. This includes Techno using the silent treatment as a punishment, something which hurts Tommy since he craves affection from others.

He also attempts to isolate Tommy by telling him he doesn’t need anyone else; that everyone abandoned him during exile (something which Dream has also said.) He tells Tommy that he’s only alive because Techno is there to defend him and supply for him, as well as constantly reminding Tommy to not let any compliments he receives get to his head. These are both meant to make Tommy depend more on Techno and doubt his own abilities. Techno also occasionally engages in subtle gaslighting, attempting to sow doubt in Tommy’s mind about his relationships with Tubbo, Quackity, Ranboo, and Fundy.

It’s also vital to keep in mind what exactly separates Dream and Techno in this regard. The most important thing being that Techno actually does care about Tommy. He trusts him and wants to earnestly help him. He knows Tommy has been traumatized and abused in some way, but he doesn’t know how to help because he’s not that great with people. It also doesn’t help that Tommy is unable to tell anyone what happened.

In the end, Techno really does want to be a shield for Tommy. Despite debating handing Tommy over to Dream, it’s more likely Techno was using this as bait for Dream to waste his favor on something useless. After all, he could always save Tommy, should he ask for him to. Techno’s warnings about Tubbo and L’Manburg also come from a place of love, as Techno was personally hurt by them and wants to protect Tommy by telling him to leave it behind. However, just because something is done out of love, doesn’t mean it’s automatically helpful or good for someone.

There’s no better example of this than in Techno’s most damaging and frequently used tactic: ‘Buy Their Love,’ a technique commonly used on children by narcissistic parents. At first glance, nothing seems wrong. Techno gives Tommy most things he asks for; providing him with food, gifts, protection, and a place to sleep. The manipulation within this arises when the act of kindness is counted as a debt against the person who receives it. That by receiving so many good things, they would be ungrateful to go against their abuser. Doesn’t matter if they emotionally or physically hurt you, they gave you gifts, so you should shut your mouth and allow the abuse to continue.

Whenever Tommy speaks out against Techno’s violent actions or his plans to hurt his friends, Techno would frequently bring up all his ‘good deeds.’ He consistently reminds Tommy that he could’ve just thrown him back to Dream, but he was too kind. That he went out of his way to give him gear, food, and a roof over his head. That he was kind so Tommy should be quiet and let Techno plot to hurt the people he loves. Or else he’s selfish and ungrateful. Or else Techno will take all of his gifts back and leave him with nothing.

Knowing this, it is horrifying seeing people justifying this behavior by mocking Tommy’s character and calling him ungrateful using this very same fallacy. (Especially for those who grew up being controlled by this very tactic.)

It is through knowing Techno’s use of the ‘Buy Their Love,’ method that makes Tommy’s, ‘I am worthy,’ response, not one of betrayal, but one of triumph. This moment is a major positive character change for Tommy for many reasons. When Tommy decides to stand against Techno, this causes him to fall back on his most reliable tactic. He insults Tommy and then asks for the Axe of Peace back. Instead of caving, Tommy refuses.

By keeping the Axe of Peace, Techno’s final gift to him, he is not only rejecting the destruction of all he loves, but he is breaking free from Techno’s manipulation. He says, ‘I am worthy,’ because now he knows his own self-worth. He doesn’t need Techno or Dream to decide it for him. This moment is Tommy finally breaking free from not just Techno, but Dream as well. He is finally free.

“Tommy was only using Techno and never thought of him as a friend.”

Tommy and Techno’s relationship is complicated, which is why pretending only one side was in the wrong isn’t entirely accurate. Their friendship, in summary, is tragic when fully examined; being doomed from the start. Techno and Tommy are brought into conflict often because they are simultaneously so similar and so different. Techno and Tommy both deal with grief in the same way. They both long for a life of peace and comfort. They each long for companionship, hold their ideals in kind, and are both naturally resilient in the face of adversity.

Yet, their personalities and courses of action are polar opposites. What makes this friendship one of tragedy is the fact that not just Techno, not just Tommy, but both of them, actually thought the other was their friend. They had each wanted to be the other’s friend since the day they’d met. Tommy never stopped wanting to impress Techno and get on his good side, even if his methods annoyed the target of his affections. Him calling Techno ‘The Blade’ was never meant to dehumanize him; it was a title of adoration.

Along the same spectrum, Techno is a character who generally longs for friendship, but pretends not to after a lifetime of hurt. He’s been burned too many times, and so he chooses to stay alone. Techno is generally very reclusive and awkward around others, so when he likes someone or cares for them, it’s noticeable from a mile away. Their friendship has a very brotherly dynamic, and the fact that Techno allowed him to stay in his house, implies Tommy is a step above pretty much everyone else but Phil. Putting up with Tommy’s shenanigans is itself a sign of affection.

However, when their goals come into conflict and the two start to drift apart, they deal with this in massively different ways. With Tommy devastated and enraged, and with Techno withdrawn and hurt, once more burned by someone he slowly learned to trust. They were once both friends, neither one was pretending. Yet, both of them thought their companionship was unreciprocated.

On top of this, both Techno and Tommy were using each other. Techno used Tommy to get his weapons back by manipulating and lying to him. Tommy used Techno to protect him from Dream and get his discs back. They each hurt the other and refused to listen, both shouting valid complaints at the other that they refused to hear.

Their relationship is also deeply affected by the themes of vengeance in the current arc, which is something I haven’t seen many people talk about. Most of the current conflicts this past month have resulted from characters being unable to forgive, resorting to revenge as a way to cope with loss. L’Manburg was the first to initiate this, through the influence of Quackity. The Butcher Army was formed to punish Techno for a war crime he committed. And while this is perfectly reasonable, what isn’t is the way the incident was orchestrated. It was an unchecked abuse of power to execute someone without a fair trial, as well as punishing Phil, who was not involved whatsoever.

This was also particularly unfair to Techno, as many projected their anger at Wilbur onto him. Even Tommy did this, finding himself unable to blame his late mentor, so Techno was the next best option for him. However, it was Techno’s response to this that was interesting. He chose a path of vengeance, the same way L’Manburg did, after vowing to live his life as a pacifist. By doing this and following through, he hurt everyone, not just the people he claimed needed to pay for their actions.

Instead of just picking the weed in the garden, he set the entire flower bed on fire. Through L’Manburg’s destruction, he gets what he wants. He destroys their government, but he also scars the earth and shatters the sky. He leaves uninvolved people homeless, deeply hurting Ranboo, Eret, and especially Ghostbur. Philza turns to vengeance as well, taking his anger at the death of his son out on people who do not deserve it.

Tubbo, a day before the second Festival, was given another chance to seek revenge when Techno had spawned a wither on their land. Instead, all Tubbo could say was, ‘We do nothing … It’s pointless, vengeance. It’s poisonous.’ By doing this, he has managed to be a bigger person than even Techno was, with the strength and maturity to turn the other cheek. And now with Tommy’s plan to kill Dream, the conflict continues to escalate; only ending where forgiveness begins.

It’s sad to think, if Techno didn’t choose a path of vengeance and Tommy was strong enough to tell Techno how he really felt, the two might have remained friends. Who knows? Maybe they still can.

“Tommy was the one in the wrong. Techno was right to destroy L’Manburg.”

Techno is a lovely character. He’s well-written, engaging, funny. He has many values and quirks that are generally relatable and interesting. His motives are deeply understandable and sympathetic. And yet, he is perfectly capable of being evil, in just the same way that Tommy can be deeply flawed despite being the protagonist.

I’m sure most people already know that Technoblade is a villain. Or more accurately, a tragic antagonist. Techno (the streamer) knows he is and he’s having fun playing that part. Just because a character is morally in the wrong doesn’t mean their values and ideology don’t have merit. The best character I could compare Techno to is Thanos.

They have completely valid concerns and points, but it is the way in which they go about achieving their goals that makes them into evil people. And despite this, many will still agree with them, even after they do something reprehensible. Contrary to popular belief, Technoblade’s tendency towards violence isn’t a good thing, no matter how you look at it. Even Techno himself knows this, that’s why he decided to reform and become a pacifist with Phil. He was not a good influence on Tommy, on top of also manipulating him.

Techno caving to hatred and vengeance makes him no different to the resolve of the Butcher Army that pursued him. It is precisely the fact that he went on to destroy the home of not just Tommy, but also Ranboo and Ghostbur, that puts him in the wrong. He is allowed to despise all government and remove himself from it, but the moment he decided to insert himself into someone else’s country and take their home from them in order to destroy it, he abandoned an integral principle to his own values.

This principle being: ‘Choice.’ The act of letting others be free to decide what they want for themselves. It is a huge component to the concept of anarchy, the freedom to choose. And yet Techno robbed this from, not just the ruling powers that hurt him, but individuals who were not even involved in the first place. He justifies this by saying it’s for their own good, that he’s helping; while acting in a self-serving manner.

In his anger, he became the punisher, stooping lower than L’Manburg has ever gone. There is also the issue of Dream weaponizing Techno to destroy the one thing that has been a thorn in his side since the very start, manipulating Techno’s grief to achieve his goals. Tommy’s biggest sin in the Doomsday War was standing up to Techno and getting in the way of him hurting his friends and destroying his home.

This isn’t to say Tommy is perfect, because he still hurt everyone he ever loved. But the only way he knew to redeem himself was to fight for what he knew was right. And so he chose to fight alongside his best friend, Tubbo. However, just because Techno is in the wrong doesn’t mean others are wrong for wanting to side with him, or by finding joy in his ruthlessness. The biggest appeal of Techno is the fact that he opposes people like Tommy.

He knows how to put people in their place and it’s satisfying to watch. Some people love rooting for villains and it’s entertaining to see a being with so much power crush everyone else down so effortlessly. Especially because it’s so easy to sympathize with Technoblade. Sympathetic villains are the best kind; where they have understandable motivations, relatable flaws, people they love, and something they can lose. Dream is a villain you love to hate. Technoblade is a villain you hate to love. Simple as.

Despite the destruction of L’Manburg being either devastating or fantastic depending on who you are, there is one major good it has done. It has pushed Tommy more towards the completion of his character arc. By losing one of the three things he loves, it will be impossible for him to pretend any longer. He will be forced to confront reality very soon. It all depends on whether Tubbo will have to die first for him to finally see it.

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greentrickster · 3 years ago

Note

in your post about ingo and melli being rivals, it seems like rivals are a common relationship. i wonder if rivals are a more common relationship in the pokemon universe, especially since recreational fighting is really common.

In this AU at least, yes, they are! A good rival keeps you on your toes and is generally willing to battle at the drop of a hat, but you and your rival also tend to know each other pretty well, and will have each others' back if things get bad or serious. Some rivals are more antagonistic, some are very friendly, some even become official couples - the important thing for a rivals is that they're that one special person you just want to keep battling over and over, no matter the surrounding circumstances.

You can't tell me Melli and Ingo didn't battle all the time in Hisui. Like, not daily, but probably at least once a month. And Melli's actually a tough, skilled trainer if we go by game mechanics - if you keep battling him, he'll get his pokemon up to levels 74, 47, and 48 respectively. The only other warden to match that is Gaeric. The only warden who can beat that is Ingo himself, who is a freaking beast and can get his Glisor all the way up to level 77, with the rest of his team ranging from 75-76, and being the only warden with a team of larger than three. So, surprisingly, Melli and Ingo are probably a pretty even match before the Akari comes along, and both win their fair share of battles.

Beyond that, they obviously clash in plenty of places, like the torch debate and the time/space feud, and I'm sure there are plenty of other things as well. At the same time, as others have mentioned, I'm quite sure Ingo has a much easier time getting along with Melli than most people (because, again, subway worker/master, Melli's type of annoying probably barely registers to him). They're both wardens, and I like to think they respect each others' devotion to their Lord/Lady respectively and acknowledge each others' skill on a certain level (Ingo's more open about it, and the fact that he'll openly compliment Melli if he wins a battle is something Melli enjoys - he likes praise and Ingo's very free with it). Melli also high-key enjoys having a Pearl Clan member around who's constantly Down To Fight (even if Ingo's motives are different than Melli's in this).

Mountains can also be dangerous terrain, and while Melli might not like the torches, I don't think he wants anyone to get killed to hurt, he just wants them to not bother the pokemon and preferably stay out of the caves. You know what's the best way to stop someone getting hurt on a mountain? Make sure they stay off the mountain. So I've no doubt there have been times they've helped patch each other up or waited out bad weather together simply because there were no other options, and survival trumps clan feuds. You can't be a good warden to your Lord/Lady if you're dead. Melli is a pain and a brat, an absolute brat, but I don't think he's actively malicious.

Also, I headcanon that Mount Coronet has at least a few really nice, cold pools of water, and that Melli and Ingo have an ongoing agreement every summer that these pools are truce sites, because it's too hot to battle and they just want to cool themselves and their pokemon off.

Prior to getting yanked into Hisui, I think Emmet and Ingo were as close as either of them had to rivals, as it's (apparently) indicated that they like to battle each other recreationally as well. This said, I think Emmet's genuinely delighted that Ingo's found himself a rival, because, as stated, a rival helps keep you on your toes and improve your skill level, and they can also be trusted with your back. Ingo's probably got at least one scar from a wound that Melli stitched for him because Ingo just... couldn't, didn't know how, couldn't make himself do it. They fought, they battled, they weren't really friends, but they kept each other honed and, when push came to shove, as long as no one else was watching, they kept each other safe.

At least, that's how it happened in this AU, 'cause I'm from the 90s and I love me a good ol' rivals-who-have-your-back trope, not to mention a nice rivals-to-friends arc for when Melli gets to Nimbasa! ^U^

Thanks for the ask!

#Melli in Unova AU #pokemon melli #pokemon ingo #submas #arceus spoilers #pokemon emmet #pokemon legends arceus #my eyes on the skies

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chemicalpink · 3 years ago

Text

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Words: 4.7k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff if you squint really hard, childhood friends to lovers AU

Warnings: unprotected sex, bathroom sex, infidelity, JK is a heartthrob that is bad at feelings, YN realises she’s been in love with JK all along.

A/N: this is me trying to write longer fics, I liked how this one came out yayyy. This goes out to the @thebtswritersclub monthly prompt _____ to lovers, in this case it’s childhood friends to lovers. I just- I really liked how it came out, I’m so excited to know what you guys think of it.

Summary: Falling in love is such a curious thing in life, Jungkook would know best, after pinning over you for years on end, only to have his best friend take away his opportunity, or does he?

The sun was shining brightly over the park as you made your way down the slide, hot skin scorching at the contact with the yellow plastic, although you couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as your mother would, meeting Sungho at the end of it, who was covering his eyes as best as his arms would allow him to do, summer was almost coming to an end and you two had decided to spend every single second of it together, much to both of your mothers’ dismay who had long decided to take turns to tire both of you out by the neighbourhood park, nothing too exciting, if it weren’t for your young imaginative minds combined, which turned you into the closest a six year old could get to being a menace.

As you smiled brightly at your friend, you couldn’t help but turn your head towards an almost inaudible whimper coming from the shaded side of the park, finding a kid around your age plopped down by the tree, desperately drying his eyes with the back of his hand, small sobs coming out of his lips as three other kids, which you knew to be a little older than you and quite disrespectful at that, kept laughing at the boy, so really, what else were you supposed to do if not come in to save the day. “Come on Y/N they’ll make fun of us too” Sungho said as he tried to tug you away, only to have you stand your ground firmly

“If they make fun of me, I won’t cry” you crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest

“Y/N let’s just go”

“You go, Sungho” Sungho was always the type of kid that your mother kept reminding you to be more like, always righteous, never picking fights like you were known to do, but you really couldn’t stand watching the mysterious kid crying by himself while no one else did anything in the slightest. So you stood between him and the three kids that were still making fun of him, head high, fists up by your sides in a superhero pose “You shouldn’t make fun of others”

“Why don’t we make fun of both of you then, Y/N?”

“At least I can put my shirt shirt when I’m dressing myself, Areum” the girl looked down for half a second before staring you down, full of rage before huffing and turning around in true mean girl fashion.

You turn back to find a pair of bambi eyes staring at you, sobs silenced, although his chest still showed him trying to fully catch his breath. You extend your hand for him to take it so that he could stand up “I’m Y/N what’s your name?”

“I’m Jungkook” you were quick to grab his arm and pull him to where Sungho had watched the whole scene with Areum, now staring at the way you dragged the slightly shorter boy towards him

“Well Jungkook, this is Sungho and I just decided that all of us three are going to be best friends forever” the small boy smiled at that, bunny teeth showing in the process, eyes sparkly with wonder and pure appreciation, contrasting the look on Sungho’s face.

“Y/N I think you need to have girl friends to have these sleepovers with, Jungkook and I are boys” Sungho says as soon as you pass him the mirror and he is left staring at his reflection with a ton of glitter eyeshadow on his face, you turn to look at Jungkook, who is currently sprawled out playing with his nintendo, a set of pigtails adoring his head along with the hottest pink lipstick you could find

“I don’t mind it” he stuffed his mouth with chips as he continued to play on his console, not sparing any of you a look, although you smiled at him fondly, grateful to have him play along whenever Sungho didn’t feel like it, which seemed to be more and more as all of you grew older.

“Well I’m going to take this off” he said as he ran into the bathroom to wash his face. Good luck trying to get rid of glitter.

You huffed out a sigh at how boring it was getting if Sungho didn’t like to play your games, along with Jungkook being stuck inside his own little world. “This is so boriiiing”

“It was your idea Y/N”

“Yeah but you guys are no fun”

Jungkook pauses his game to turn to look at you “We can watch a movie if you’d like”

If someone were to tell 6 year old you that twelve years later, the kid that used to make fun of you would turn into your best friend, you would have probably laughed in their face, although as years went by, Areum had finally gotten better in terms of personality, up to the point where she had a full on talk with you before you decided to give it a try, even more so as she now took it as her job to protect you in high school, seeing as she was a year older than you.

“Jungkook has changed” the brunette said while taking a seat next to you inside the cozy smoothie shop, crumpling up her receipt inside her bag distractedly as you just stared at her, not knowing what had prompted her to talk about your best friend, Jungkook wasn’t exactly what one would consider popular, especially amongst the higher grades, especially not given the bickering grudge he held against Areum after all those years.

“What do you mean?”

“Just- seems like before summer he was this scrawny little thing, deer eyes, soft smiles” you looked at her intently, Jungkook had gone on vacation with his family for weeks as soon as finals were over, leaving with the promise of hanging out for the few days before school started again, similar to how you were now hanging out with Areum, her having arrived back a few hours before Jungkook “Now- well”

There were a million thoughts running inside your mind, some seemingly more plausible than others, tow hich yopu found yourself asking “Areum, did you fuck Jungkook?”

“I mean- we were both staying at the same hotel Y/N” Areum sipped on heir smoothie as a way to act coy about it, wide eyes turned the other way at the prospect of having said out loud that her latest conquest was none other than little Jungkook, the guy she had always made fun of for one or another reason

“Oh god you slept with Jungkookie” and you really tried to picture her, accepted into college, beautiful Areum, long lean legs, model faced Areum, flirt queen that always seemed to go for older guys Areum, paired up with sweet Jungkookie, sure, your best friend was cute, handsome even, there was no denying it, he was just not- Areum level handsome, Areum liked going out to party, let men shower her in drinks while Jungkook absolutely loved staying home battling Sungho in the newest video game that was around “I-I have no words”

“Y/N- Y/N don’t judge until you’ve tapped it” your friend seemed to space out for a second, as if looking back at her time with Jungkook, dreamily. “The guy got buff”

And sure he did, not only did Jungkook was now full of muscle, he also apparently had renewed his wardrobe, bought a motorcycle and apparently had even grown a few centimeters taller, or at least that much was said by Sungho as you three met up for lunch the day before classes started again, trying to catch up as you did every year when the three of you didn’t get a chance to hang out much.

“So are we getting that newly released game Kook?” Sungho mentioned in what appeared to be the background, your eyes completely fixated on whomever the man sitting in front of you was, definitely not your best friend Jungkook.

“Nah dude, I sold all my consoles and games to buy my bike” your eyes widened at the confession, probably mirroring the uttermost shocked look that Sunho was also sporting. Jeon Jungkook selling his videogames was definitely a sign of the apocalypse. You were about to make a comment before you heard a very familiar voice behind you, making you turn your head towards it.

“Jungkookie, you wanted me to come over?” her eyes had that sparkle in them which you have come to recognise as her being infatuated by someone, even if she didn’t really talked about it openly, you turned towards Jungkook in disbelief

“Yeah, Areum, lose my number”

You consciously close your mouth at the exchange as Areum backed away from the table muttering an ‘oh..okay’ as Jungkook smiled daily at her, your eyes lock in surprise with Sungho’s, both of you silently agreeing that this Jungkook was certainly a new side neither of you could yet guess whether or not you would continue to be able to befriend, although the history between the three of you spoke volumes.

And just like that, enough to get whiplash from it, Jungkook’s lazy uninterested eyes were replaced by the squinty smile you had learned to adore over the years, bunny teeth showing as his laugh resonated in the restaurant “Oh god you guys should have seen your faces!”

Your eyes travelled along the expanse of the space you three were in, looking at Sungho for a clue to pick up about what was happening, coming up empty handed as he spoke first “Dude I almost had a heart attack, I thought you had sold your games!”

“Oh no that I did” Jungkook took a sip out of his drink calmly

You tried not to show how nothing made sense in your mind “And that thing with...Areum?”

He placed his cup down, looking at you with wide eyes humming softly “Yeah that was a thing too, she’s been texting me non stop after we hooked up. I’m just glad I’m back with you guys”

So Jungkook had changed, that much was true, just not as much as he let people believe. Sure enough, the guy was now pure muscle, rode a bike everywhere, and made it his lifeplan to conquer as many girls as his schedule allowed him too; he also made a few other friends outside of your friends' circle, enough for rumours to go around about him being involved in shady business, or him hooking up with somebody’s mum. Either way, if you were to turn a blind eye to his social persona, Jungkook was still your and Sungho’s little Jungkookie, bambi wide eyes that teared up whenever it was movie night and you picked some chick flick, bunny teeth and loud giggles as he played a prank on Sungho, even though you could tell his heart just wasn’t in it as it was before.

“I’m gonna ask Y/N out” Sungho has asked Jungkook to meet him outside of campus on the first weeks of college as all three of you decided to attend together, uninterested on whatever it was that he was about to tell him, but trying to keep up his fractured friendship with the man (and you) he had shown up, even so a little fashionably late to make his point clear.

“And you’re telling me this because..”

“I don’t want to make it awkward, Jeon” Jungkook scoffs before rolling his eyes at Sungho “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you little boy crush on her for years”

“What I think you haven’t noticed is that I don’t do feelings” Jungkook retorts as he approaches him “And although I find Y/N to be quite fuckable if you ask me, I appreciate her enough not to put her in a weird place like you’re about to do, asshole”

Once weeks rolled around, things kept on being as the were after that fateful summer where Jungkook completely reinvented himself, even as semesters came and went, Jungkook grew a bit more separate from both Sungho and yourself, although it became a little harder to discern whether it was because of Jungkook or due to the fact that Sungho and you had started dating during the first semester of college. Sungho had no real answer to give you when asked about it, saying that outside of the scheduled movie night you three kept on sharing, he barely even texted Jungkook on his own.

“I heard your girl is getting married” his friend said as he handed him an opened beer, taking his place back against his bike in the middle of the night after some race they had gone to near the outskirts of Seoul.

Jungkook took a swing out of the bottle, squinting at the questionable choice in alcohol “I don’t have a girl Jihoon”

“Oh? Then what’s Y/N?'' he felt the blood draining from his face, heart heavy, breath hitching inside his throat as soon as your name left his lips. Of fucking course Sungho would try to marry you before you graduated. That bastard.

It was quite funny really, Jungkook knew from the very start, back when all three of you had 6 years old and you had saved him from a set of mean kids in the park, that Sungho was never fond of him, or rather, of the relationship you had developed with him, sure, the two men had bonded over a few shared interests as they grew up, but the only thing that kept them together was you. Sometimes Jungkook guesses it could have been him instead of Sungho, asking you out, sharing nights together, even being about to get married. But those thoughts were only wishful thinking, he had long ago decided that you deserved so much more than what he could give you, what with his eternal fear and inability to give himself up to others. So he had let you go, never thinking about the possibility of Sungho taking a place he wasn't worthy of either.

"Good for her"

It wasn't long after learning that you were engaged, that the invitation arrived to his apartment, just a few days after graduation. It wasn't really a surprise anymore, even back when he first heard the news, it wasn't that surprising, he guessed it was the years of knowing both you and Sungho, learning your patterns, that he had somehow seen it coming. It didn't make it any less hard to wish you weren't about to walk down the aisle to a man that wasn't him though. But he kept repeating to himself to stop being selfish, he had lost his chance, not that he ever had one to begin with, but as long as you were happy, he would be too.

And you really did seem happy, so he was willing to just ignore the way that his chest seemed to constrict every time your eyes locked on his from across the room as the rehearsal dinner, you were sporting a gorgeous emerald dress, the same colour as when you two first met eighteen years back, his mind spinning with impossible scenarios as each minute that passed really just turned out to be a minute closer to watch you walk down the aisle to another man, one that was supposed to be his best friend at that.

“Bride’s or groom’s” A sweet female voice called him as he sipped on his fifth? sixth? champagne flute, finding a woman staring at him with what he has come to recognise as lust.

“Eh.. you could say both”

A glimpse of recognition could be seen in her eyes before she spoke again “You must be Jungkook then, the overseeked bachelor”

“In the flesh” He smirked at her as she took a hold of his hand, guiding him upstairs to where you and your soon to be husband had booked bridesmaids and groomsmen alike for the night. Not that the blonde had anything to do with how utterly horrible he was feeling about the whole wedding situation but perhaps fucking his frustrations out would help just a little.

Jeon Jungkook was never the one to stick around until morning, that much was true, and although he might be known for a varying of unspeakable things, nothing could have prepared him for what he had to witness at ungodly hours.

He picked up the rest of his clothing after half dressing himself, not even sparing a second glance at the woman that was laying on her bed peacefully, careful not to make more sounds than the inherently necessary, his curiosity is peaked as he hears faintly moaning and skin slapping skin coming from the room next door, seeing the door barely open, and against his better judgement he peeks inside only to feel his heart pounding against his chest, blood rushing inside his ears as he can’t seem to look away from the image presented to him. Sungho, your soon to be husband, the one that he used to consider his best friend for years on end, the oh so righteous Sungho, ever morally correct Sungho, bending your other so-called best friend and maid of honour, Areum, over the comforter as he fucked into her. A few hours before he got married to you. After everything that he had put him through, making him believe that it was in your best interest top let you go, that he should have handed you over to him, that he was the best option out of the two of you to build a life with.

Jungkook sees red and doesn’t quite remember anything other than Areum running out of the room as he punches Sungho in the face, receiving some punches back.

“You absolutely disgust me”

The bastard has the guts to laugh at him “You know, Jeon” he goes to inspect his face in the mirror “If you burst Y/N’s bubble, you’ll forever be remembered as the stupid little boy that was jealous enough on her wedding day to ruin her life”

Jungkook clenches his fists by his side before deciding to turn his heels and leave the room, vision still blurry in anger, breathing ragged, a small trickle of blood making its way down from his eyebrow as he almost automatically walked himself to the other side of the hostel where he knew you must have been resting, taking a few too many second to decide to knock on the door.

“Jungkook? What are you- oh god” sleep seems to leave you as soon as your eyes lock on his beat up face, him smiling at you in a futile attempt to have you not worry that much about his well being, but of course you were already searching for a first aid kit as he took a seat on your bed “Jungkookie, what happened?”

And perhaps he didn’t think it through that much, but he couldn’t let you walk yourself into a marriage blinded by the persona Sungho had always made you believe he was. “Y/N” he took your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing any more antiseptic into his cut “You’ll hear,a nd probably have already heard, too much shit about me”

His eyes beg you to stare at him intently, and although the whole scenario had you giggling out of nervousness, it soon died down “Kook, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N- Sungho is not the man he’s made us think he is” your eyes scan his face for any more clues on what he’s saying a syou feel a beeping sound closing in on your ears, overwhelmed by the situation “And he’ll probably say this is me just being a jealous asshole after being in love with you for more than half of my living years but-”

You stare at him in horror as your hands remove themselves from his hold as if he was burning, standing up from where you were seated next to him, feeling your whole world being crushed down a few hours before what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life “No” you take a step back as you hold your chest, feeling hot tears welling up in your eyes “Jungkook please don’t do this shit to me”

“Y/N just- don’t marry Sungho” somehow he had willed his voice to remain calm

Your head shook fervently at him, as if somehow the action would make him retreat his words “Sungho loves me, Jungkook”

His eyes were ice cold at your words “He loves you enough to fuck Areum a few hours before making you his wife”

He really didn’t mean the bite on his words as he said them, this had nothing to do with you and everything to do with that asshole you called finacé, so he could completely understand when through your tears, chest heavy with rage and head spinning you asked “Please leave”

And he did.

Everything seemed like a fever dream. The words that Jungkook had said, the implication that it had. And really, if it weren’t for the fact that Jungkook was gone from the whole ordeal, you could have sworn your life that it was nothing other than a nightmare, Areum was as bubbly as ever, helping you get ready. Sungho’s good morning text still found its way into your inbox. Jungkook had not only accused you fiancé of cheating, but had said he had always been in love with you, no further proof to his words, so you decided to go as planned, yet you found yourself hyper aware of every move Sungho made, especially when they involved Areum.

You stood in your pristine white dress in front of a couple dozens of guests as traditional words were spoken, your mind a thousand miles away as you kept on looking towards the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would open up, Jungkook would show up and stop you from making what could potentially be the worst mistake of your life.

"If anyone objects to the marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace." your eyes trail to the soor, yearning to hear Jungkook’s voice amidst the otherwise silent chapel, but it never came.

“Hey, Y/N come dance with us,” one of your bridesmaids say as the night progresses after dinner, some loud beat taking over the venue at the reception, making everyone stand up to dance, including your now-husband as you find yourself sulking sitting on your designated table.

“I’m fine, you go” you try to flash her the biggest smile you can as she goes, leaving you once again with your thoughts. Thoughts that mainly involved Jungkook, figuring that after all these years, life had managed to finally separate you, heart yearning to have him close to you, the more you became aware of your current life path, the more you realised what a humongous mistake you had made. You had always thought that marrying Sungho would give you a sense of utter happiness, of fulfillment, whether what Jungkook said was true or not, as you watched your husband having the time of his life without you. If he were Jungkook, he would be seated right by your side.

Jeon Jungkook, as deviated as he appeared to be to everyone, as much as he slept around, he had demonstrated to be the most loyal human being by your side up until the last second of your friendship, unlike Sungho, he had always been interested in what you wanted to do, had always let your voice be heard, had helped you through rough times when Sungho was nowhere to be seen, perhaps you had chosen the wrong best friend to fall in love with a few years ago, the wrong man in your life to marry. It had been Jungkook all along. It could have been Jungkook all along.

Your eyes fixate on the way that Sungho whispers something on Areum’s ear and you feel your blood boil, more out of self-pity and annoyance at letting such a man manipulate you rather than jealousy as you stand up to make your way to the bathroom, in hopes of freshening up before coming up with a plan to fix this mistake.

You sigh as you hold yourself up by the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, pondering just how deep you’ll have to dig to come out of the mess when you hear an all too familiar deep chuckle behind you “So you realised”

You turn your back to the mirror to face Jungkook “That Sungho was an asshole or that I’m in love with you?”

His eyes turn into those deeply surprised deer shape you remember from when he was younger for a split second before they’re filled with something else between lust and deep appreciation as he backs you up further against the sink, a tattooed hand coming up to your chin “Does that mean I get to kiss you with no regrets now?”

“Would you kiss a married woman, Jungkook?” you ask playfully, matching the brattiness in his tone

“Only the ones whose husbands are assholes” and so his lips capture yours in a sweet quick kiss that has you wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning in once again, escalating from a very much due kiss filled with words that are unable to be said, into a fiery pit in the low of your stomach at the prospect of kissing Jungkook while still being in your wedding dress, just a few hours married and kissing another man.

Jungkook’s hands have abandoned their place on your figure in favour of trying to undo the little buttons on the back of your dress, breaking the kiss to complain “God just how many buttons does this dress have?”

Soon enough your dress lays forgotten on the floor, matching lingerie covering your body as Jungkook has most of your body up against the mirror, panties aside in favour of having him fingering you, arms almost failing to keep you upright as he mouths at your skin, moans escaping your lips regularly as he pumps and curls his fingers inside you, lewd noises taking reverbating on the small bathroom’s walls, a faint trail of bass coming in from the party “God you’re so perfect Y/N” he grunted as you heard his zipper coming down before feeling the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, his hand coming up to grip your hair making you face the mirror, makeup completely wrecked, the sight almost unrecognisable to you, a slight burning but pleasurable sensation on your scalp “I bet that bastard Sungho wouldn’t be able to wreck you like this” without further notice entering you from behind, your walls clenching against him as you felt him slowly but firmly making his way in and out of you at a building rapidly pace, a moan slipping past your lips and Jungkook shushing you in exchange as he increases his speed and you bit your lip to forbid any noises from coming out, afraid of being heard even when you knew it would be almost impossible to do so over the loud party noises, this bathroom being so far away from it.

Jungkook had placed your right leg up the sink, hitting an even deeper spot that had you building your orgasm at an incredible speed, throwing your head back in pleasure, feeling him completely inside you as heat pooled in your lower belly.

“K-Kook I’m gonna-ah! I’m gonna cum” a few flicks on your clit with his expert fingers as he helped you keep yourself upright did the trick as Jungkook made sure to somehow thrust even deeper, a loud moan scaping you as he spilled his warm seed inside you, quickly adjusting back his boxers and trousers as one of his fingers collected some cum that was dripping down your thigh to push it back in, letting go of you to hold yourself up against the sink, pulling your panties back in place.

“Think that counts as a wedding gift?” he turns to leave the bathroom, leaving you heaving to haphazardly step inside your dress as you trail behind him, finding him resting against a wall, his bike roaring a few meters away as he smiles your way knowingly as he puts on his helmet, throwing another one your way "So.. all ready to leave that asshole of a husband now or should I wait another 15 years?"

#thebtswritersclub #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #btscreatorscorner #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #bts imagine

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lady-literature · 4 years ago

Text

Found Family

holy shit did this one get way out of hand. Don’t expect them all to be this long because hot damn this is a monster compared to literally everything else but it just wouldn’t stop

(should I have expected this? probably. we all know how I am about found family.)

anyway enjoy 4.5k words ig

based on this post | @maribatmarch-2k21 | find more here

***

When Marinette had been chosen to intern with Monsieur Wayne’s PA, she hadn’t been expecting anything special. Sure, the Waynes were an odd breed and generally considered strange, but Marinette hadn’t actually expected to have much contact with them—if any at all.

She was here to earn credit for her business degree.

Instead, she has… well. She thinks she’s been somehow inducted into the Wayne family, mostly on accident and kind of as a joke.

That is, until it very much wasn’t.

***

Her first mistake, she supposes, was being too good at her job.

Marinette is an old hand at keeping track of multiple moving parts and riding herd on stubborn people who’d otherwise be too distracted or goofing off. (She was the Court’s leader for more than just being the latest in a long line of Ladybugs, after all.)

After the first two days shadowing Selina—“please, darling. Ms Kyle is so formal”—and learning the broad strokes of the job, Marinette felt confident enough to dig her nails in and get to work. Selina spent most of her time dedicated to international tasks and arranging Monsieur Waynes’ private affairs—all of which was highly classified and not discussed with Marinette—so she turned her attention to inter-company affairs.

Her first order of business was personally meeting with as many people in managerial positions as she could get. Not a requirement for the job per se, but these were people she’d have to interact with often and Maman had always stressed the importance of building connections in the workplace.

“People,” she would say, “are far more willing to do what you want them to when you’ve endeared yourself to them.”

So Marinette takes that advice and spends her breaks and lunches charming employees and giving baked goods to security guards and learning the names of the cleaning crew. She doesn’t speak to the department heads, because Selina handles their correspondences, but everyone else is free game as far as she’s concerned.

She becomes a well-recognized face astoundingly quickly.

***

Marinette probably should’ve seen the rumors coming.

It’s common practice in not only the Wayne family, but in most business conglomerates, for the children to quickly rise through the ranks of their company—if not just handed a high position right off the bat.

It took barely a month before the eldest was all but running Human Resources, and the second was placed as Head of Security practically out of nowhere. Monsieur Drake is the youngest (and most terrifyingly calculated) CEO to ever hold Wayne Enterprises, even if he does share the title with his father.

The other three are still too young or have yet to express an interest in the company, but people say it’s only a matter of time.

The track record speaks for itself, even if Marinette wishes it didn’t.

As a girl who’d come mostly out of nowhere and found herself with far more divisive sway in the company than she had any right to, it’s no wonder everyone thinks she’s some sort of secret Wayne finally coming out of hiding.

Marinette had nearly choked on her coffee when Selina dropped the bomb of that particular tidbit of company gossip.

“Most think you’ve been unofficially adopted,” Selina tells her, looking far too amused for Marinette’s liking. “Seeing as you’re too old for official avenues now.”

Marinette looks up warily from the schedule she’s rearranging. Selina had all but shoved the thing at her a month ago when she started suggesting more efficient ways of managing the CEOs’ valuable time.

“Only most? Does that mean the rest have common sense?”

Selina’s grin widens even further, if that’s possible, and Marinette regrets her question even before the older woman starts speaking.

“Oh, of course not!” she laughs delightedly. “The rest are hoping to hear news of wedding bells. It’s high time someone swept a Wayne off the market, don’t you think?”

***

“So you’re the new little sister I keep hearing about.”

Marinette stares up through narrowed eyes at the brightly smiling Dick Grayson. In her stomach, there are already the beginnings of resignation starting to form.

“It’s nice to finally meet you!”

This man is going to bring her nothing but trouble. She can tell.

***

Dick takes a liking to her. And she, against her better judgment, finds herself doing the same to him.

It’s a little hard not to, if she’s being honest. He’s bright and bubbly and brings her bagels during his morning break without her ever having asked.

It takes practically no time at all before Marinette considers him a friend, relaxing when he’s near and laughing openly at his ridiculous jokes. Despite being the head of HR, he’s not great at the whole ‘professional’ thing and often employees will walk by to find him draped across a chair or balancing precariously on the edge of her desk while she tries and fails to get some work done while he’s around.

It really doesn't help all of the ‘Marinette is a Wayne’ rumors running around. Especially when Dick starts pointedly calling her every variation of ‘little sister’ that he can think of just to annoy her (and, she knows, because he thinks the entire situation hilarious).

***

Three weeks after befriending Dick, Selina all but shoves her into Monsieur Drake’s office and, in no uncertain words, says, “He’s your problem now.”

Marinette blinks at what she can describe as nothing other than a disaster area and just… sighs.

Tim blinks back at her.

The motion is somehow both completely blank and filled with an uncomfortable amount of knowing at the same time. There is also, she notices, a frankly ludicrous amount of concealer caked beneath his eyes and more coffee cups scattered on every flat surface than Marinette has ever seen in her life.

She knows his schedule like the back of her hand seeing as she spends hours of her day pouring over it to make sure everything runs smoothly. He has no prior engagements for the next three hours.

“You’re not going to take a nap just because I ask, are you?”

He snorts. “Absolutely not.”

She nods, having expected the answer; her phone was already at her ear before he even finished speaking. “Hey, Dick!” she greets, sounding brighter than she feels at the moment, and watches as Tim stiffens in front of her. “Yeah, no. I was just wondering if you’re busy right now.” She pauses. “Oh, good! Can you come up to Tim’s office for me? Yeah, I need you to knock him out so I can fix his dumpster fire of an office.”

Tim has since started waving his hands frantically at her, panic setting in behind his eyes.

Marinette stares at him, unmoved. “Thanks, Dick! You’re the best!”

The silence after she hangs up is deafening.

“I don’t know if I should be impressed by the ease you’re manipulating me or pissed off that you’re doing it in the first place.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Does your decision have any bearing on my future employment?”

His eyes squint. “…No.”

Marinette shrugs, mind already whirling with what she’ll need to get done first and calculating how long she’ll likely have to get it done. “Then I think you should skip right over both of those and land on resignation as quickly as possible, Monsieur, because you’re going to have to get used to it regardless.”

It’s silent for a long moment, and she worries for just a second that she’s severely crossed some sort of line. Then Tim bursts out laughing instead of, you know, firing her like he probably should have.

“Oh, yeah. You’re going to fit right in here.”

Marinette doesn’t ask where the ‘here’ is. She’s pretty sure she already knows.

***

It takes ten days for Marinette to wrangle Tim’s life into something resembling order. His office is clean and organized to his liking. She’s developed a system of filing so that all paperwork goes through her and is quickly sorted into ‘can be handled by Marinette’, ‘forge his signature and tell him about it later’, and ‘actually important enough to have Tim read through’.

His schedule is the most efficient it’s ever been and Marinette is quickly honing the skill of getting him properly dressed and out of his office in under thirty minutes. (Dick is, thankfully, a great teacher and has little to no qualms about giving her the key to all his little brother’s weaknesses.)

Selina stares at her when Marinette all but drags Tim from his office, a folder tucked neatly under his arm and the sugary monstrosity of a caffeinated beverage she’s bribed him with in her own, with a whole ten minutes to spare before his meeting with the Board.

“My dear,” she says solemnly, “you are positively magic.”

She doesn’t even look up from where she’s simultaneously wrangling Tim’s hair into submission and laying his tie down flat. “You have no idea.”

***

She knows Tim is capable of professionality. She’s seen the cool facade he pulls up in front of the Board members and the kind but impersonal smile he uses on the employees of Wayne Enterprises. (He is not the Ice Prince of the Wayne family, but Marinette believes he should have some equally ruthless sounding title.) He is aloof and sharp and every inch the businessman people praise him to be.

She’s seen it. And yet…

“Monsieur. Why are all the Lexcorp contracts I gave you done in crayon?”

Tim doesn’t stop messing with his Rubix cube or even look up at her when he says, “Cause deadbeat fathers don’t deserve the respect of a pen.”

Marinette is very tired. She does not have time for this. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex is a bitchass absentee dad and I live to inconvenience him.”

“What about inconveniencing me?” she all but whines. “I can’t hand him these!”

That does make Tim look up at her, eyes wide with false innocence and mouth pouting up at her. “But sister dearest, I’m your little brother. It’s my job to inconvenience you.”

Growling in frustration is probably an inappropriate reaction to the situation.

But, Marinette thinks, so is the fact that both of the Waynes she associates with regularly seem hellbent on convincing the world that she too, is a Wayne, so.

(Is this how Alya felt dealing with the twins? Cause if so, Marinette takes back every joke she ever made—little siblings are a bitch.)

***

She meets Damian without warning.

Honestly, she never really expected to meet him at all but, well.

She finds him in Monsieur Wayne’s office, sitting at his father’s desk and doing something that she thinks is vaguely illegal, but she’s not about to tell her Boss a dozen times over how to parent his children.

Damian is a near-perfect copy of his father with darker skin and calculating green eyes. There’s also a more potent aura of danger around the child than there is around his father, like Damian hasn’t yet learned how to hide behind his public persona as his father had.

Or, Marinette looks at the teen thoughtfully, perhaps he just chooses not to.

“Monsieur Wayne,” she greets. Children like to be treated like adults, she knows, and Marinette doesn’t think this one is any different. “Selina hadn’t told me you’d be in the office today.”

“I don’t run my schedule by her,” he says flatly. A response she expected considering Dick’s stories.

“Of course not,” she agrees.

He finally deigns to look up at her and something flits across his expression, too fast for her to pick up on it. “Are those for Father? Bring them here, I’ll deal with them in his absence.”

Marinette raises her eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s wise Monsieur.”

Damian scowls and sticks his hand out. “I’m perfectly capable of forging Father’s signature. Give them here.”

She does not move and, instead, lets her lips quirk up into the smile she’s been fighting since she stepped in here.

“I don’t doubt it,” she tells him, and she doesn't. Forgery seems exactly like the kind of skill a child who broke into the CEO’s office of a multi-billion dollar company would have. “But you’ll find that all forging of signatures has been finished for the day and that these,” she shakes the sheaf of papers lightly, “actually require your father’s attention.”

He snorts disbelievingly and it says a lot about Marinette’s life up until now that the blatant display of disrespect doesn’t piss her off but instead reminds her of Chloé and of the fact that she still needs to reschedule their spa day. It's been too long since they spent time together in person.

“Well,” she pauses and eyes the papers thoughtfully. “‘Requires’ in the sense that its information needed to trounce the Board when they start spouting off greedy bullshit about cutting corners on our humanitarian efforts. I’m not sure how much of it is actually useful for anything besides that.” She shrugs. “But homework is homework, yes?”

That gets her a thoughtful once-over. His hand lowers and he then turns back to whatever he’s messing with on his father’s computers.

“Very well,” he concedes. “Father will be back in approximately thirteen minutes. You can leave the papers and I’ll inform him of their… importance.” He smirks, but it’s more like he’s letting her in on a joke than anything else.

Marinette smiles back as she sets the folder on the desk, feeling, oddly, like she’s passed some sort of test.

***

The day after, both Dick and Tim are waiting for her with what looks like an entire bakery laid out in her workspace.

“Uh,” she says eloquently, setting her purse down on her chair because there’s not a single open space on her desk not filled with some kind of pastry. “What’s all this?”

She looks up to find neither Dick nor Tim has stopped staring at her since she walked in. “We heard you met Damian yesterday,” Dick starts warily, like he’s scared of her reaction.

The response does not abate her confusion.

“Yes, I did,” she says slowly. “That does not explain all… this.” She waves a hand, trying to encompass them as well as the state her desk is in.

The two brothers share a look.

“It’s a bribe,” Tim tells her simply and Marinette is taken aback for all of a second before her eyes suddenly narrow.

Dick cuts in hastily before she can say anything. “It’s more of an apology, really. For Damian’s behavior.”

But Marinette is confused and frustrated and just a bit offended by the apparent not-bribe at this point. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, but it only does so much.

“Damain’s behavior was fine,” she tells them with measured neutrality. “You two, on the other hand, are being weird and it’s freaking me out.” She crosses her arms expectantly. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

Appearing from out of nowhere, Selina drapes herself along Marinette’s shoulders and snags a raspberry scone. “I do believe,” she says as if sharing a secret, “That they are trying to keep you from quitting, kitten.”

Marinette wrinkles her nose. “Why would I quit? I like this job.”

She also likes the Waynes (in general, if not right then) and she likes Selina. The woman was a good mentor who didn’t shy away from the dirtier parts of the job and taught Marinette all she knew. (Even the bits, she noticed, that had little to nothing to do with being a personal assistant and were more likely to be found in the repertoire of a thief.

But, Marinette is in possession of her own sticky fingers and knows how to not ask questions, so. You know—curiosity killed the cat and all.)

She doesn’t voice any of that, but Selina, at least, knows it anyway. Marinette isn’t quiet about her gratitude after all.

“First meetings with the youngest Wayne don’t often go well,” Selina tells her. “In fact, I think he has a habit of making the interns cry.”

Dick makes some kind of offended noise. “Hey! He hasn’t done that since he was twelve!”

Tim elbows him in the ribs and Marinette makes a vaguely skeptical face at all three of them before deciding it wasn’t worth it. She has actual work to get done today and pastries to get rid of before she can even start.

She pats affectionately at Selina’s hand before grabbing as many boxes as she can hold. “Come on you two,” she says to the brothers. “You’re going to help me hand these out to the rest of the company.”

Dick immediately starts doing as told but Tim hesitates, humming thoughtfully. “You know that’s not going to help your whole ‘I’m not actually a Wayne’ thing, right?”

She glares at him. It doesn’t stop Tim from grinning like the utterly unrepentant little shit he is.

***

Things are quiet after the Damian Incident for a whole two weeks. It’s the longest lull Marinette has had since she first started and became somehow involved with the Waynes.

It ends because Dick finds out about the crush Marinette has been nursing on the Head of Security for three months now.

The Head of Security who is Jason Todd: second eldest Wayne sibling and Dick’s brother.

He takes it better than expected.

(Almost, she thinks later, a little too well.)

***

Despite her friendship with Dick and Tim—or perhaps because of it?—Jason had never seemed very interested in her. At first, Marinette had shrugged and counted it as a win; there was one Wayne, at least, who neither found her situation funny nor used it to poke fun at her.

They were on friendly terms, she supposed. Security has always been one of her more regular stops in the building, so she’d spoken to him often enough. He liked complaining that she spoiled his team rotten with all her treats.

But she also noticed that he likes her cherry danishes, so.

And then she noticed how crooked his grin was when he smiled. And how he seemed to have an arsenal of nicknames for everyone he knew. And the small collection of classic romance novels filled with sticky notes he tries and fails to hide in his desk. And, and, and.

It was around the time she began unconsciously memorizing his schedule based on when he was and was not there for her pastry deliveries, that she realized she may have made a misstep somewhere.

Jason was stubborn and passionate and flipped between overly proper and crass light a damn light switch. He was also, as stated, very much not interested in her.

Not that she would’ve pursued him anyway. He was a coworker as well as her friends’ brother.

Now if only one of said brothers could understand that.

“You should ask him out,” Dick suggests not for the first time and Marinette sighs, also not for the first time.

She loves Dick—she truly does—but he has been an aggravating level of unhelpful since he found out about Marinette’s latest romantic disaster.

“I’m definitely not doing that.”

Dick groans, like she’s being the unreasonable one. “Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because I don’t like embarrassing myself?” she asks rhetorically. “Not everyone can have a fairy tale romance like you and Wally.”

He throws his coffee stirrer at her. “We are not a fairy tale.”

She shoots him a flat look. She’s heard Dick talk about Wally and Tim’s told her all the stories and she was there when he and Wally finally got their shit together. Dick was unbearable for an entire week with his gooey, lovestruck new lease on life.

“You two are the definition of fairy tale. You two make fairy tales look like trashy romance novels.”

He opens his mouth to argue the point before forcibly cutting himself off. “No. Stop distracting me. We’re not talking about that; we’re talking about you and Jason.”

“There is no ‘me and Jason’,” she reminds him through her clenched teeth.

“Not yet,” he says optimistically. Like it’s a fact, like he knows something she doesn’t.

He makes her want to slam her face into a wall. Truly, he does.

***

Dick stops running his HR papers up to her office. Instead, he’s somehow convinced Jason to play errand boy for him even though he literally never looks happy about it. What used to be a flimsy excuse for Dick to slack off for a few minutes and gossip with her has now turned into awkward silence as Jason drops off the papers and leaves without even a ‘hello’.

During their shared breaks, Dick takes to orchestrating ‘chance encounters’ between her and Jason, all but shoving them into each other (and even actually shoving that one time). She catches Jason shooting dark looks at Dick every time he does it, and if she’d been holding any iota of hope at this point, it’s been smashed to dust. Jason obviously knows of his brother’s meddling and isn’t happy about it.

But Dick just can’t take the hint.

Every failed plan of his makes him steadily worse about it all—more frantic and frustrated and like he wants to strangle her for her stubbornness. (The last feeling being more than mutual.)

Dick’s meddling starts to make her and Jason’s previously friendly, if distant, relationship awkward and embarrassing. With every pointed comment, she gets closer to just punching Dick in the face. Or, maybe, she’ll just tell Wally who really ate all the chocolate strawberry macaroons she made; it’d certainly be more devastating.

***

It all comes to head on a Thursday, after most employees have left for the day.

They run into each other in a breakroom, and she watches as Jason suddenly goes stiff, eyes flicking over her shoulder to no doubt scan for Dick. That single action makes her expression sour and she slams her empty mug down with more force than was necessary.

For Kwamis sake, he looks like a cornered animal. An image not helped by the way he jumps a foot in the air and stares at her like he’s worried she’ll suddenly lunge at him.

“Can we agree this is ridiculous?” she says abruptly. “I don’t know what Dick is trying to accomplish with his wingman schtick, but we both know it’s not going to work. Can we just… agree that he’s an idiot?”

A complicated look crosses Jason’s face before he snorts wryly. “Yeah, we can agree on that. Dickie-boy has always been a few sandwiches short a picnic.”

“I know things have been awkward between us lately, and I’m sorry about that, but I hope we can keep being friends?” she says hopefully.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” he asks before she can start catastrophizing about the bewildered expression he makes at her words. “It’s not your fault.”

The smile she shoots him is rueful and she shakes her hand in an ‘ehh’ type gesture. “Kinda is. And I understand if the-” she makes a vague gesture between them that she hopes properly conveys ‘my giant, stupid crush on you’, “you know, is too much for you. Just say the word I’ll try and keep out of your way.”

She’s trying to be comforting or understanding or something like that, but all her words seem to do is make him upset. “Absolutely not,” he insists. “Sunshine, you are not going to change your routine just to make me feel better.”

Marinette crosses her arms, frowning up at him. “Why shouldn’t I? If I’m making you uncomfortable-”

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Uncomfort- Marinette. ” She jolts a bit at the use of her name. She doesn’t think he’s used it since her second week at W.E. “I’m not sure who made you think otherwise—and if it was Dick just tell me cause I’ll kick his ass —but barring the fact that I still enjoy your friendship regardless of any… feelings-” Marinette concentrates very hard on not showing emotion when he says that, “-it’s not your responsibility to deal with it.”

Okay, but… that makes no sense. Of course her feelings were her responsibility, that’s the whole point of them being hers.

“If it’s not mine, then whose responsibility is it then?” she asks, wondering where the hell his train of thought is running.

“Mine, obviously.”

She gives him a look, complete with narrowed eyes and thinly veiled judgment. “What? Is this some kind of gentleman’s martyr complex? Is that what’s happening right now?”

Jason huffs a laugh, but there’s no humor in the sound. “If me taking responsibility for my own damn feelings is a martyr complex then sure,” he snarks, not unkindly. More like he’s trying to protect himself by retreating behind a sour attitude.

Her mouth is halfway around a retort when his words catch up to her brain and she freezes.

“Your feelings?” she repeats. “Your feelings for… me?”

His voice is carefully neutral when he says, “Those would be the ones.”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again. “You like me? Seriously?”

His face spasms at the question, starting at anger before he properly looks at her and the surprised expression on her face. He pales.

“You didn’t know?”

“No!” she squeaks, something she hasn’t done since she was fifteen. “Well Dick said but I didn’t believe him!”

And fuck, she thinks. This means Dick knew the whole damn time, didn’t he? Oh, she is so going to kill him the second she gets the chance.

Jason runs a hand down his face, covering his mouth as he gathers his bearings. Suddenly, his eyes shoot back open and land on her. “Wait. If you didn't know, then what the hell were you talking about just now?”

She blushes to the tips of her ears and buries her face in her hands so she doesn’t have to look at him. It was easy when she thought he’d figured it out himself. It’s harder now that she has to tell him. “I- I was talking about my crush on you.”

He’s quiet for so long that she gets antsy and peeks out from behind her fingers to see his expression. He’s still looking at her, but now there’s a wide, crooked smile on his face. The expression softens something in her chest and she lowers her hands.

“Really?” he asks, leaning closer.

Marinette nods, feeling a small smile spread across her lips.

He jolts forward, hands reaching for her before suddenly stopping just shy of touching. She startles a bit at the motion but doesn’t move away.

Jason licks his lips, smile smaller but no less bright. “I- can I?”

She blinks. “Can you what?”

“Kiss you.”

The blush returns full force, but with it also comes a smile, giddy and bright. She nods and no sooner than she does, is he swooping down to pull her into a toe-curling kiss. His hands cup her face with a tenderness that makes her smile, makes her giddy, and it’s not long before they’re both smiling too wide to actually kiss and are forced to break apart.

His hands fall to her back, practically engulfing her, and his chin drops onto her head. It’s warm and cozy and she thinks she could so very easily get used to this.

Later, they’re going to have to deal with Dick and Tim and Selina and the teasing they’ll no doubt have to endure—not to mention how much worse the rumors are going to get—but right now? Right now Marinette pulls Jason back down for another kiss and very pointedly doesn’t think about it.

#maribatmarch2021 #maribat #mlb x dc #jasonette #my typewriter #platonic dickinette #platonic timari

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b0ther · 3 years ago

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tags : drabble/one-shot idk. feminine pronouns, afab reader / royalty or kingdom au, inspired by kill the villainess, eating out, semi-public and clothed though they don’t have sex yet lol we’re gonna have to wait for part two, this was supposed to be short but i got carried away bye.

i’ve been reading a lot of reincarnation manhwas, and i can’t stop thinking about knight yuuta.

knight yuuta with tough, veiny, calloused hands, his fingers are long and pretty and knuckles are chipped with dried blood; a boy that spends his days practicing his swordsmanship against a dull dummy until the sun sets. knight yuuta who is then knighted by a duke’s daughter, whose lips are zipped with obvious intention to display her disinclination to be in the ceremony. knight yuuta who follows the lady home that night, three steps behind her at all times, and recognizes that the vicinity around her isn’t the one that he is welcomed in; knight yuuta who doesn’t speak of it or point it out either way.

“i don’t need a knight,” the lady then says one afternoon, eyes closed as she sips on her most favored flavor of tea under the bright sunlight. knight yuuta is sitting across her, eyes vigilantly watching her every move and ears perked up as if someone is going to ambush her in her own garden — he insisted that the lady enjoy her afternoon tea alone, you see, that he isn’t fit to be sitting on the same table as a lady. but she looked up at him with disinterest that struck his chest, questioning his loyalty to her. he immediately took the only empty seat on the round table.

the duke’s daughter, knight yuuta quickly learns, has a cute side to herself. she keeps him close to her, in the mansion and in the castle, even when she told him that she has no need of him to be around. she takes him to the market, and inside extravagant boutiques that he had never thought that he could enter. and though she has her own lady-in-waiting, she prefers discerning his opinion over hers. knight yuuta does not think of dresses often, and so he carelessly picks ones that he thinks would look best on his lady, and waits just outside the changing room.

but she drags him in, her touch delicate and unforgettable, it’s the first time he’s been touched by those soft hands — she smells of lemon cakes and roses; his lady closes the door and tells him to sit on a chair on the very back of the room. one servant argues — it would be improper for him to see you change, my lady — and she indifferently waves their reasoning away, “he is the only person in this room who has sworn his life to me, wouldn’t it be audacious of me to place my faith on all of you but not him?” as more complaints flows out of the servant’s mouth, his lady raises one hand to silence them and commands another to undo the laces of her dress. that day, knight yuuta learns of the boundaries the lady placed between them — he also learns that the lady has smooth, silky skin, and though his expression is unmoving as he watches her undress to her corset, both hands on his knees forms a fist.

neither knight yuuta nor his lady likes the crown prince very much. he came to learn that the person he is serving is second only to the crown prince, his lady’s inimical fiancé, and that she holds power and influent that most people would not be able to even imagine. knight yuuta knows his lady as one who is loved by all in the duke’s household — and how can one not? his lady, despite her frigid appearance, has the heart of gold that many claims to have, and he is convinced that no one in the kingdom is able to rival neither her elegance nor beauty. and so he wonders, day and night, how is her fate so ill that she is set to marry the wretched prince.

knight yuuta has not ever comment on the countless times his lady hides behind the palace pavilions, shielding herself from leering eyes as she continues to sob and wail quietly into her fragile palms. he has never seen her cry, at all times, he is on the lookout for people that are walking towards them — his gaze is enough to send them away — so that his lady’s dignity would not be tarnished any more than what that bastard prince has commit. he’d kill him, knight yuuta swears, if he isn’t the goddamned crown prince, he’d slit his throat wide open for making his lady cry.

why would anyone choose another woman than his lady? why would anyone openly flaunt their choice in picking arrogant and crude ladies to be their partner? doing so is one thing, but letting his lady catch them in the middle of coition is another. she is trying her best to fit in the mold of the perfect king’s wife, and the crown prince insists lazing around with no inch of grace in his body, even knight yuuta, who comes from a lowly origin, knows better than to exhibit infidelity even in a political driven engagement.

his lady asks him to accompany her to a nighttime tea one evening, and who is knight yuuta to refuse? the underlying sparks in her eyes isn’t present, her voice is low under flickering candlelight as she brings her cup to her lips. “you’re the only one i can trust, sir yuuta,” she says without precipitating movements, “you are my only friend.” that night, yuuta stabs his blade through the chest of a man who tried to bring a knife up to his lady’s face in her own garden. though his lady is unmoving, she lifts her gaze to the sky as the assassin breathes his last breath, “the crown prince has trivialized my knight.” as yuuta peers up at his lady, his eyes widen in overwhelming exalt — she looks magnificent.

trips to town has become a weekly occurrences for yuuta and his lady; her favorite hobby is to dress in regular clothings and prance down the marketplace, making him carry all her luggages. the downtown theater is her best loved place — a new short play every week is to be presented, with new songs and new tricks. his lady loves stories, and yuuta loves watching her eyes light up at every twist the play would offer. though that evening, his lady’s melancholic frown seeps pass her defenses, and he immediately recognizes the presence of the crown prince three rows under where they are sitting — in his arm is another lover yuuta does not recognize.

as his hand creeps to the hilt of his sword, his lady stood up. she is silent, as always, trying her best to not be the center of attention, as she makes her way out the exit. all thoughts of harming the crown prince escapes his mind — his lady is all that matters, after all. he follows her to the empty night streets, hand flying out to catch her wrist; yuuta disobeys his lady for the first time and did not let go even when she tries to pry him off. she refuses to look at him, and he understands, so he tugs her frail body towards his larger one, hand pressing her forehead against his chest.

“i don’t even love him,” as soon as he feels his lady’s sobbings, yuuta pulls them into an alleyway — he will not see her crying face, so no one else can do so. her fingers grip his tunic, tears sopping the material and yuuta can only rock them back and forth as a vain attempt in calming her down. “yuuta, i’m a-always doing my best, i-is that not enough?”

yuuta grits his teeth at the question — he’d kill the crown prince, he swears it. he pulls her from his chest, for the first time, he takes in the sight of her piteous face — her tear-stained cheeks are flushed, eyes swollen, and chest heaving. his heart clenches at the sight, and so, he closes his eyes and brings his large hand to cup her jaws, leaning down to catch her quivering lips with his.

at first, yuuta expects a harsh shove. he expects a slap on his face, or perhaps even a punch. he does not expect for his lady to be melting into the contact; all the tension on his shoulders fades away as he falls in deeper to the kiss, one hand wrapping around her small waist to hold her body closer to his. he can feel her hiccups as she raises her arms to snake around his neck, pulling him down towards her. yuuta knows that he should be careful when it comes to his delicate lady, that he should hold himself back as he is much stronger than she is; and he might have committed a sin when he thrusts her onto the wall.

he silently reprimands his excitement, and while he keeps each hand on her jaw and waist, his dark eyes peered down to his lady, waiting for her to rebuke his actions. but she does not comment on the cold wall or his daring decision — instead, she looks down to her feet, still trying to manage her hiccups, and quietly asks, “are you not going to kiss me again?”

splutters of apologies fly out his lips — he has kissed the crown prince’s fiancé, and while the fear of his own life is not present, yuuta fears for his lady’s. she turns away for a moment, her then erratic breath is now calm and slow, muttering something yuuta does not quite catch. she unhooks her arms from his neck, her soft touch traveling from his neck to the curves of his hard jaws. turning to look at him, shy and timid, his lady grips the base of the hand on her jaw with her smaller ones, tugging it off his face and placing it very carefully on the mound of her breast.

yuuta holds his breath.

the resilient lady keeps her eye contact — he doesn’t know how she does it — and presses her fingers on top of his, making him dig into the fabric and feel his digits drowning in the soft flesh underneath. yuuta does not say a word, he merely does what his lady tells him to do. “you can move,” her pliable voice whispers, and so he does. he takes the initiative to fondle her chest, stepping in closer as he admires how she fits perfectly in his wide palm. the fingers on his hand loosens; his lady takes one thumb to nibble between her teeth as yuuta continues to knead her mound, his breath hot against her face. he was so engrossed in her breast, that when his lady lets out a low sigh, he immediately pulls away.

at an instant, his eyes goes to her face — has he hurt her? he is greeted, however, by his lady’s flushed face (now for an entirely different reason) and her drool pooling on her thumb and on the corner of her pretty lips, threatening to spill out. has her lips always been this plump? yuuta feels his cock hardening against the restraining fabric of his pants as he thinks about how his kiss may be the one making her look so. . . amorous.

“sir yuuta,” his lady whimpers, and he almost flinched at how sultry the complaint sounds. she is so different from the lady he usually serves — so different from the usual bold and prideful woman that she is. yuuta raises his hand back to her chest and she lets out a sigh of relief; his lady looks so small as he towers her, so supple and pliant. is he allowed to do this? is he allowed to see her in such state?

she must have noticed his hesitation. her teeth let go of the thumb in her mouth and she slowly tugs the material of her long skirt to her chest. yuuta let go of her body completely and allows her to exhibit her smooth skin, the fat of her thighs making his head go dizzy even when he’s seen her change so many times. the reveal of her undergarments is slow, but yuuta doesn’t mind, not when his lady is revealing so much of herself to him — her laced underwear cups the shape of her pussy so well, that he almost convinces himself that it’s a sin to be staring for so long.

yuuta swallows the lump in his throat and squats before his lady, the case of his blade clashing against the ground. his face is just inches from her core, breath blowing against her warmth when his lady breaks his trance, “y-you can touch it. if you want.”

he may as well faints. yuuta looks up at his lady who’s intently staring back at him, tense from all that is happening. something tells him that she wants him to touch her, and so he raises one finger — just one, he tries not to be greedy — and presses that finger flat against the length of her slit.

“ngh—“

the responses are all so new for him. he keeps his eyes on his lady as her face rumples into an expression he has never seen her worn — it stirs something inside of him. he wants nothing more but to take his cock out and beat it to the expression she is showing him, but he doesn’t do it. instead, he waits for her cues while occasionally pressing harder on her mound.

“you—“ his lady takes his hand and directs him to a specific spot of her groin; yuuta can feel a bud nestling right there under her underwear, “—you can touch me there.”

yuuta follows her command, and he finds his heart drumming against his chest when his lady’s fingers immediately grips his hair. he places his free hand on her thigh — one he has been longing to hold — and continues pressing her down on the spot she had shown him while occasionally running his finger up and down her slit.

his eyes never leaves his beautiful lady’s face, only glancing to what is in front of him for a moment to see her undergarments getting darker in color when he feels his finger getting wet. yuuta swallows the lump of his throat again — she looks so ravishing, he must say, so inviting. it takes every fiber of his being to not do anything too rash, he wouldn’t want his lady to be uncomfortable around him, but he is only getting more and more close to her pulsating core. her little pants are music to his ears, her little moans of his name — and just his name. they both don’t know what to say in times like this, and yuuta feels content with his lady calling out to him with her velvety voice.

until, of course, something inside of him decides that it’s a good idea to press his lips against the fabric separating his finger and her folds. “yuuta—!” his lady squeals, fingers digging in his scalp as he continues to place flutters of little kisses on her drenched underwear, tasting the sweet slick of his beloved lady. she’s addicting.

yuuta shifts on his feet, angling his face so that he can kiss her better. he uses one finger to pull the fabric aside and let the cool night air breeze against her wet slit. his lady shivers, and he is sure that she is about to say something but his tongue races her, and takes one long lick in between her folds to let her juice run down his tongue. his lips settle on the bud he had felt earlier and slowly sucks on her glistening clit.

noises that his lady makes after he does that is different. though she was panting before, she didn’t do so in a way that is so. . . exhilarating. he is rock hard now, sucking on her throbbing clit, squelching sounds that fill him with delight entering his ears easily. she is so so wet, sopped in her own slick for him.

“y-yuuta—“

he loves her. he really do. yuuta does not lower the intensity of his sucking, and instead, only grips her hips to support her body against the wall once he feels her knees trembling from either side of his body. she’s muttering all sorts of things now, telling him how he feels so good, how his tongue is making her feel so hot.

“yuuta— i’m gonna, i—“

his sweet lady cannot finish her sentence — she is cut off by her own gushing, juice flowing to make a mess on his chin as he continues eating her out, tongue poking at the sensitive button between her folds. she’s trying so hard to keep her voice down, yuuta can tell, biting the back of her hand as she throws her head on the wall. her hips convulses so hard against his face, grinding down on him.

yuuta does not stop. he keeps on lapping up her cum, obsessed with the taste of her honeyed slick as he tugs on her clit softly with his lips, silently begging her to give him more.

“s’enough—“ his lady’s words fall on deaf ears, yuuta keeps slurping up her juice until she finally pushes his head away. “e-enough, sir yuuta!”

yuuta blinks up at her — drowning in the sight of her post orgasm: sweat drenching down her face and neck, chest heaving with massive draws of breath, her hair disheveled and messy (quite unfitting for a lady), and her face somewhat debauched. he made her look like that, a sense of burning pride flares up in his chest, he’s the only one to see his lady like that.

remnants of her juice dribbles down his chin on his throat, and yuuta unconsciously scoops it up with a finger to put in his mouth, indulging himself in another taste of her sweet slick. his lady sees this and looks away, muttering about how indecent he is being. he cannot help the small smirk slipping on his lips as he wipes his face free of her wetness. he stands up, not making a move though his eyes lingers on her chest — he stares longer, more than he usually would and wonders what would his lady’s tits look like under all these article of clothings, and would she ever let him suck on them.

she drops the skirt from her hand, crossing her arms under her chest — perhaps to tease him, or to coax him even further — as her cool expression returns to her face. she still looks embarrassed, face still flushed with her hair sticking firmly on her forehead with sweat, but yuuta does not point it out.

instead, he simply offers her his hand when she says, “take me back to the mansion.” he does not mention too, of course, the way she stumbles in her steps, slightly limping, as they walk back home.

#jjk #one-shot #yuuta #knight yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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agirlwhoisaphantom · 3 years ago

Text

Sparks - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After being best friends with Bucky for years. Something unexpectedly happens where is finally realizes he has feelings for you.

Word Count: 4140

18+

Warnings: A hint of jealousy (if you read in between the lines), a bit of praising, oral (female receiving), cockwarming, Smut (If I'm forgetting to mention anything let me know) Aftercare, fluff(surprise)

Authors Note: This took a turn that I least expected, but hey I'm glad it did. Title inspired by my wife @saynotoshityouhate 💛

"I swear, James Bucky Barnes, if you took a bite from my ice cream. It's over for you," you yelled across your apartment.

Walking to your bedroom, Bucky had a bowl of the ice cream you were saving for later. He has a lopsided grin as he scoops a small piece of ice cream. "this is pretty good. I might go and get some more once I'm done," he winks.

You rapidly got up and ran towards Bucky, removing the bowl of ice cream he had on his hands. "Thank you very much for bringing this for me," you chuckled.

Without hesitation, Bucky's left arm wraps around your torso. With his other hand, he grabs the bowl and places it on the ground. He picks you up and starts walking towards the bed, throwing you onto it. You laughed. "Is that all you can do, big guy?" you got up, trying to catch your breath.

He stops walking towards the bowl and turns around to face you "oh," a smirk formed on his face, "you want to play" he walks towards you, he leans in towards you, "you know I'll win, doll," grabbing your hair and placing it all in one side "don't start something that you can't handle" he whispers into your ear. Feeling the breeze of his breath against your neck made you feel things.

Rising your left eyebrow and tilting your head, "try me, James. You'll be the one losing instead of me."

Bucky's hands go straight to your torso once again. Tickling you on the spots that you were the most ticklish at. You fell backward onto the bed. He stopped for a brief second making sure you were okay and you didn't hurt yourself. After he made sure you were okay, he continued to tickle you. You were laughing uncontrollably. You gently started to kick him. "Bucky, stop." You grab a piece of fabric that was on your bed and start waving it. "I surrender. You win"

"See, I told you, don't start something you can't handle," he chuckled as he was getting up from your bed.

Bucky has been your best friend for almost two years. The moment you both met, it was an instant click. You two were inseparable. You had a key to his place, so at three in the morning, you would break into his house. He also had the key to your apartment. Whenever he wanted to go on an adventure with you. He'll just go to your home.

There would be instants where you wondered if you had feelings towards him. But those feelings were buried deep down. You couldn't imagine ruining your friendship with Bucky, or worse, what if he didn't feel the same towards you. The only person that knew about these feeling was Wanda.

Each time you watch movies with Bucky, you would always wrap your arms around his bicep and place your head on his shoulder. When you went to his apartment, he had a drawer dedicated to your stuff. Such as clothes, feminine products, underwear, your painting items, anything that involved you. Since you mainly spent your time at Bucky's place if you weren't on a mission.

There would be occasions where he would flirt with you, but you didn't think much of it. You thought he was just friendly with you. Either way, he would occasionally go on dates with girls.

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

For the first time in a very long time, you finally decided on a date with a guy. You were nervous about it. You had been talking to this guy for two weeks before he decided to ask you out on a date. You went to Wanda's place to get ready.

You went through her closet to see what dress you wanted to wear. You rarely owned any dresses. Your closet was mainly shirts and pants. Besides that, Wanda insisted that you borrowed one of her dresses.

"Are you excited about this date?" she looked at you with a smile on her face. She sounded excited for you. Finally, after years, you are going on a date. Wanda's face lit up as she started to walk towards you. "I have the perfect dress for you." She goes next to you and starts looking through her red dress section. She pulls out a short, small dress. It had thin straps that crossed on the back, forming a thin bow on the bottom. The front of the dress was straight. The material was silky satin. It was such a beautiful dress.

You look at Wanda with a confused look. "I don't think that is going to look good on me," you shook your head.

Placing the dress on your arms and gently pushing you to the bathroom, "you will look hot in this, now go try it on" Before shutting the door, she throws a pair of nude heels.

You take a big breath as you look at yourself in the mirror staring in the mirror. You didn't think the dress would look amazing on you, but it did. Your curves were hugged perfectly and with nude heels. You could stay home and walk around the house wearing this dress, you would.

Walking out of the bathroom, Wanda's eyes widen, and she slightly opens her mouth "wow, if I was a guy, right now, I would totally fuck you" She grabs your hand and pulls you back to the bathroom "let's finish getting you ready."

Vision appears from thin air "ladies, I just wanted to let you know that the rest of the gentlemen are here" You startled yourself when you saw a Vision. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he points to the door. "I'll leave using the door instead."

"Sorry about him. He does it all the time. I get scared as well." She chuckled.

She finished curling your hair and your makeup. "You look absolutely stunning. Whoever is having a date with you is lucky."

Turning around to face the mirror, you look at yourself. You looked beautiful, the way that Wanda did your makeup and your hair. Everything fell into perfect pieces.

Walking outside of Wanda's bedroom, you could hear Bucky's laugh 'fuck, fuck, why is he here' you thought to yourself.

Wanda takes your hand and stops halfway through. "Don't focus on him. If he liked you, he would tell you by now" she turns around and hugs you. "Now let's go, you have a date to go to" She holds your hand as you both continued to walk to the living room.

The second you entered the living room, you felt all eyes on you. But the ones that caught you the most were Buckys. His eyes were widened, and lips parted. "fuck” he whispered to himself. At this exact moment, he realized he had feelings for you. He always knew but never acknowledged them. All the memories that he had flashed over him. All the laughs you both shared, all the times you were there for him. Every little memory he shared with you.

Steve looks at Bucky and notices that he was drooling. Snapping his fingers in front of his face, "stop drooling over her. She is right there staring at you."

Bucky snapped out of the state he was in and places his hand over his mouth. Looking away from you, he tries to focus on the tv.

Wanda looks directly at Bucky with a confused look. She knew that Bucky had feelings for you deep down, but this was the first time he openly thought about you.

You held your hands together as you were slowly swaying. You were nervous, you wanted to know what Bucky was thinking, you wanted to forget about the date and go home instead.

Wanda goes to grab your purse and keys, placing both in your hands. "we have to go before you are late to your date," she starts pushing you towards the entrance of her home. Opening the door, she gently pushes you out. "Have fun. Text me if anything happens" She slams the door and leans onto it.

Bucky places both of his elbows on his thighs, placing his hands onto his face. He sighs in frustration.

"you have feelings for her, Bucky. Why haven't you told her yet" Wanda sits next to Bucky placing her hand on his back, trying to comfort him.

Sam and Steve raise their eyebrows as they look in Bucky's direction. "Hold up, Cyborg, you caught feelings for her" Sam turns to Steve. "I told you, Steve, that he did," he said in an excited voice. Steve rolled his eyes and gently pushes Sam.

Lopsided grin forms on Steve's face, "Am I really surprised, though?" he shrugs his shoulders. "Not really. Have you seen the way that Bucky looks at her and the way they act around each other?"

"can you both shut up? I'm trying to think," he mumbles as he removes his hands from his face.

"oh shit, Steve, he is short-circuiting. Someone bring the charger," Sam says in a teasing way as he gets up "never mind, Captain, let's head out before he ends up chasing the both of us."

Steve covers his mouth as he is trying to laugh. He goes up to Bucky placing his hand on his shoulder "go on and chase her." He walks away chasing after Sam.

There is quiet between him and Wanda as he continues to try to comfort him. "If I go after her and I tell her how I feel towards her." He pauses as he takes a drink of his glass of whiskey "what if she doesn't feel the same towards me" he shakes his head.

Wanda chuckles a little "oh, Buck. If you only knew," a smile forms on her face. "Why don't you go and find out for yourself" she continues rubbing his back in circular motions.

Bucky looks up at Wanda with a relief look in his eyes. She didn't need to say anything else. With only that, he knew that you had feelings for him as well.

Bucky rapidly gets up and runs towards the door. Ignoring what Wanda or anyone else was trying to tell him.

Running outside of Wanda's house. Turning his head left and right, looking for your car. The minute that he found your car, he ran towards it.

You take a deep breath. The nerves you had from earlier went away. 'just go on this date. You'll probably like him. He seems like a nice guy,' you thought to yourself. You hear the passenger's door be aggressively opened. You grab the first thing on your right. Throwing it in that direction, "ahhh," you screamed, "fuck, James!" You could feel your heartbeat a hundred beats a minute.

Bucky gets in your car and closes the door. He reaches towards you and wraps his arms around you "sorry, Doll. I didn't mean to scare you" he lets go of you and sits back onto the seat. "you look beautiful, by the way" he looks forward. He didn't want to know what reaction you had when he said that. "we need to talk." He said in a small voice as he licks his lips.

"What is it, Buck?" you knit your eyebrows together and form a frown on your face. You were concerned, especially because of how rapidly he opened the door and got inside your car.

He turns his head, facing your direction. Bucky grabs both of your hands and holds them for a couple of minutes. "This is something that I've been holding in for a while now" he knits his eyebrows together, and slight smile forms on his face. "I feel like I'm selfishly telling you this now, especially since you have a date-"

"Bucky, just get to it," you interrupted him. "he ended up canceling so, please take your time. I totally want my anxiety to be risen up to the roof," you said sarcastically.

Bucky takes a big breath and takes a big gulp. "This might sound stupid, but I don't want to see you with anyone else."

You looked at him with a confused look. "what do you mean?" you had no clue what he was saying or what he was trying to mean.

"I have feelings for you," he pauses "fuck, that felt nice to finally say it" he sighs in relief.

You froze. You were unsure if you were having a daydream or if this was real life. You stared at Bucky with widening eyes and a smile across your face.

Bucky didn't like that you were quiet. He wanted to know what you were thinking about, what was running through your mind. "In better words, I'm in love with you. I know that love is just a shout into the void, that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed. I'm tired of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I look at you, and I feel like I'm at home. You are my other half. I'm in love with you, sorry."

Looking at Bucky, that smile never turned into a frown. The instant you found out that you caught feelings for him, it was the moment that you wondered if he felt the same towards you. Late at night, when he held you in his arms, your thoughts would always go to that place. 'what if he liked me?' 'no, he couldn't.' But now that you have confirmation that he had liked you, not only like you but love you. Your heart fluttered. You loved this strange boy as well.

"I love you as well, Bucky" you placed your hand on his cheek, moving your thumb against his soft skin.

Bucky sigh in relief. He was scared from the start to tell you how he truly felt but not that he knows that you felt the same. He felt like a weight was lifted from his chest. "If you do decide to be with me. You know that there is no turning back, right?" he shrugs his shoulders. "You are kind of stuck with me now."

You snap your fingers "gosh, darn it. It looks like I am stuck with you." you had a big smile on your face. "I can't wait for what the future brings us. No matter what it is. I'm sticking with you." You wink at him. "It won't be easy getting rid of me, Bucky" you scrunched your nose.

"I don't plan on ever getting rid of you, Angel" that same smile you had was reflect on him. Reaching his phone, he checks the Time. "I'm aware that it's 7 pm. But, let's go camping" there was a bit of excitement in his voice. "first, let's get you comfortable clothes." He gets out of the car and walks around towards your side. Opening the door for you to get out since he wanted to drive. He grabs your hands and walks you to the other side, opening that door as well. You rolled your eyes as you had a small smile on your face.

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

"Bucky, do you need help setting up the tent?" you chuckled. Bucky was struggling and refused to let you help him.

"Stupid fucking tent," he whispers to himself. He grunts as he gets frustrated.

You go near him and start helping him build the tent. He hated that you were helping him, but it was getting dark and cold.

When the tent was ready, he places the 15 blankets he decided to buy instead of buying an inflatable bed. Bucky hands you a small bag that contained makeup wipes. You had completely forgotten that you still had makeup on your face and the dress you were wearing. Lucky enough, you had spare shoes in your car. If not, you would have been doomed walking in the forest with heels on.

You grabbed the pillows from your car and placed them at the edge of the tent. You laid down, covering yourself with one of the blankets so you can change into the clothes that Bucky got you.

He lays right next to you, removing his pants just leaving him in his boxers and his t-shirt. He lifts up his arm as he wants you to lay next to him. Without a second thought, you place your head on his chest letting him wrap his arm around you.

"Doll… "he whispered, taking your chin between his thumb, tilting your face up towards him.

You were trembling as if in frost, as if in a fever, unable to control your own racing blood. "Bucky," you said huskily.

He reached out and lifted the heavy fall of hair, letting his hand stroke your neck and round to your throat, caressing the delicate line of your jaw with his thumb, making you shudder as your legs almost curled under you.

Bucky bent his head towards you, touching your lips with his in a kiss as light as a drifting feather, and you learned that the lips you had thought sensuous were everything that you had never allowed yourself to imagine.

Bucky's hand moved again under your hair, clasping the nape of your neck, pulling you towards him as his kiss deepened, lengthened, and possessed. Letting his hands slide the length of your body, he molded you against him in a slow sweet fusion that made you thrillingly aware of his desire.

"See the effect you have on me," he whispered as he pulled apart from you, his eyes glittering with almost stunning surprise as though searching yours for an answer.

Ignoring what he just said, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him in. Pressing your lips against his once again, parting your mouth just slightly, biting his lower lip. Wrapping your arms around him, slowly moving your hands upward, running your fingers through his hair.

He slides his hands underneath the shirt material, feeling your soft skin. He shifts his body on top of yours. "Are you sure about this?" he breaks the kiss. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable before anything else was going to happen.

You nodded your head. You knew what was going to happen next, and how for the longest time, you had been craving this. Your hands slide underneath his shirt, helping him remove it. With both hands, he slides the joggers that you were wearing. Meanwhile, he was doing that. You were removing your shirt.

Bucky goes back to kissing you. Both of your tongues were dancing together. His lips kissed you from your cheek towards your neck and moved downwards until he was in between your legs. With his left arm, he pulls the material of your panties to the side, exposing you to him. A small grunt a bit, feeling the coldness of his hand against your inner thigh. Kissing your inner thigh, leaving a few marks on there and moving upwards with his tongue against your clit, moving it in circles, then pressed down, teasing you. Bucky's fingers rub against your entrance. His tongue and fingers going at the same rhythm. You moaned out loud. Even if it was the first time, he knew how to take care of you.

Without losing his rhythm, he moved his way up, kissing you from your lower stomach up to your lips. He pauses and stares at you. You were breathing heavily, and your heart was pounding. Wanting to gain dominance, you slid under him, moving on top of him. You began kissing his neck the same way that he was doing to you. You cood against his skin, rocking your hips against his friction.

As much as he wanted you to take care of him, he wanted to take care of you first and your needs. He grabbed you by your hips and turned you. Before you could move, he pins you down onto your stomach, moving behind you. He grabbed you by your waist again and pulled you up so that your ass was sticking up in the air. Removing your panties, he spat on his fingers and rubbed them against your entrance. Without warning, he thrusted inside of you.

You both froze and gasped out loud at the feeling. Bucky started to rock his hips, just wanting to feel the way you felt around him. When you moaned out, "oh my god-" he couldn't hold himself back. He gripped your waist tighter and started slamming in and out of you.

Your hands clutched on the sheets underneath you while one of Bucky wrapped your hair around his hand. Grabbing your hair and his other hand stayed on your hips, holding you steady. "You feel so good, Bunny." He was staring down at you. The image of your bent over on your knees, your ass up in the air, and his hand tangled into your hair made him groan. He watched the way that his cock looked moving in and out of you.

"Come here," he mumbled as he pulls on your hair. He assisted you in positioning your back and shoulders against his chest, with the both of you on your knees. He had kept thrusting the entire while you were moving. He surrounded you with his arms, not wanting you to fall due to the lack of barriers.

You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, kissing his neck while he pounded you from behind. One of his hands reached up to your breast, running his fingers along with your nipple. And the other stayed around your torso. You tilted your head back enough for him to attach his lips to yours.

The two of you moved in perfect harmony. You'd never done this before, never had sex with someone so passionately. Neither had Bucky. It felt like you both were made for each other.

"Are you ready?" He referred to you by your name. "I'm gonna cum. Can you cum with me?" He asked you, pleading.

Then, as if you'd planned it exactly, you both hit your stride at the same Time—shockwaves coursing through both of your bodies as you moaned each other's names again and over.

It took you two a minute to regain your composure. He hadn't yet pulled away from you; instead, he remained inside of you as you collected your breath and regained your balance.

Placing your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat miles a minute. You finally felt like you were at home. Bucky gets up and grabs the bag that he had prepared for you. Looking into the bag, he grabs a lotion bottle. He grabs your hand and pulls you forward, making sure that you were sitting on the edge of the duvet.

Not a word was spoken. It was peaceful and quiet hearing the sounds of the waterfall in the background. Bucky opened the bottle and squirted some into his palm before kneeling down. You flinched a little when the cold lotion hit your skin. But the moment that Bucky started to rub against your back, you softly moaned.

Bucky worked his way down your back, pressing and rubbing his fingertips against your skin. When he reached your lower back, he leaned on your shoulder and smiled when he noticed that you had a smile on your face and your eyes were closed.

'Is this what cloud nine feels like?' you thought to yourself. You were unsure if Bucky had said anything, but you just nodded in agreement. He was nothing but gentle to you, making sure that you felt pleasure and not pain. He got up and faced you now. He squirted more lotion on his hands and gently massage your feet. He knew you were ticklish there, so he tried his best not to make any sudden moves that might trigger you.

By the time he was finished, you felt so relaxed. He grabbed your panties and his shirt. You sat up, raising your arms up with your eyes partly opened as he pulled his shirt over you.

"you do realize that I'm never giving you back this shirt, right?" you chuckled as you laid down, placing your head onto the pillow.

Bucky nodded his head. "I know, Doll. That's why I'm giving it to you."

You fully opened your eyes and smiled at him. He leans in forward and kisses you. He lays down on the other side. Slipping under the covers and pulling them up over your bodies. You turned on your side and wiggled back, so you were pressed against his chest. If you could turn yourself into a puddle, this would be the exact moment you would. You melted into his embrace and smiled when you felt his face rub against your shoulder right before he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you," he murmured softly against your skin.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #tfatws #the winter soldier x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #marvel x reader #avengers #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #fluff

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

#whispers700challenge #my 2k challenge #my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #vampire au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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Fake Fiancée - Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes rather possessive over Spencer when she learns he’s been been with someone else since they hooked up four months ago. Category: SMUT (18+) Content Warnings: Language, mutual masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hand-on-neck (no choking), praise, degradation kink, possession kink, dirty talk Word Count: 7.1k (I didn’t mean for it to get this long I swear aldjfsdlfksk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

MASTERLIST

NOTE: HERE IT IS!!! 🥰 Thank you all for showing so much love to Part 1, I seriously wasn’t expecting all the requests for more of the story, so it was fun coming up with ideas! I’m still not sure if I want to do 3 or 4 parts yet, but I’ll let you know soon! In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy reading this second installment! ❤

***

He's been a ghost in my head for four months.

Everywhere I went I could hear his voice, hear the way he whimpered out my name and how cries got higher and higher as I clenched around him. I felt the rough grip he held on my hips as I rode him, the pads of his fingertips leaving behind faint bruises that I currently wished I still had.

And more prominently, I saw his face. It was always in the back of my mind, burning into me with lust-drunk eyes and a pouty mouth in the shape of an O. It sizzled into my brain, the sound definitely sounding more like raindrops than fire, but I was more than okay with that.

Though, every time it rained, I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same— if he stood outside or watched from the safety of wherever he was and replayed that moment over and over again until he was aching to be in my presence once more.

I also had to wonder if he knew about the ring I'd left in his front seat.

Did he leave it in his car, perhaps in the glovebox or on a string that he tied around his mirror? Or did it fall somewhere between the seats? Maybe he found it and did what I never could, pawning it off for some happily-accepted cash while he laughed at how careless I was to take a stranger's virginity and then leave my expensive diamond ring behind like a fool.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the means to find out.

It's not like I could have wandered up to the FBI building and ask to meet with a Dr. Spencer Reid... Right? Because that as absurd. I'd only met the guy once, and he'd probably think I was crazy for trying to track him down.

It was a whole ordeal that I'd mulled over again and again, and I ultimately decided that it was ridiculous.

If anything I was happy to be rid of the ring. I could move on with my life, and maybe Spencer sold it for money or he's held on to it as a souvenir for a special night.

Win-win.

It didn't dull the small ache I felt for him, though. Every once in a while I found myself remembering how great that night was... I hadn't felt that way—sexy, confident, fun—in a long time, and as much as it sucked that he was getting picked on by some drunk idiots at a bar, I was glad it led me to him.

Some nights, when I was missing him significantly more than usual, I even went back to Waterson's in the event that I'd run into him again, hopefully under better circumstances.

Tonight was one of those nights.

This time I didn't have a ring to keep most of the men from hitting on me, but now that I was well and truly over my ex-husband, I was glad I didn't use that as an excuse to keep the ring around anymore. As annoying and painful as the drunken flirting was, I was way better equipped to handle it and truthfully somewhat relieved that I could get back to normal.

You know, save for the fact that I was only at Waterson's in the first place to maybe see some guy I hooked up with four months ago and still haven't stopped thinking about...

Because that was totally a normal thing to do.

I was on my second beer of the night when I felt a presence behind me. And even though I was pretty sure than I'd be able to tell if it was really Spencer, a part of me still buzzed thinking of the prospect of seeing him here again.

I turned around though, and was met with an entirely different person. I tried not to look disappointed, but it must have shown because the man who'd caught my attention gave a small laugh.

"I'm sorry, are you expecting someone?"

I liked to think that I had a good read on most people, especially when it came to men in bars. This man was someone I looked at for a few seconds and immediately knew that he wasn't looking to make me uncomfortable. He had come over to flirt with me, no doubt, but the difference here was that where most men would have gone straight into it, this man genuinely looked like he was willing to haul ass if I really was waiting for someone and didn't want his company.

That alone made me willing to entertain him a little, even if I was disappointed that he wasn't who I desperately wanted him to be. But it certainly helped that he was attractive.

The first word that came to mind was smooth. Even as I laughed back at the man and answered him, my eyes did some wandering of his figure and admired what I saw. A crisp, tight grey tee shirt that hugged some rather nice muscles, and brown skin that was just a few shades lighter than his eyes, which were kind and a little playful. His smile was stunning, sharing that same playfulness that his eyes held as he practically sparkled to life at my answer.

"Oh, no, I'm not... But I certainly wasn't expecting you..."

I made sure to smile at him, a little smirk that complimented the admiring eyes I was offering him and a little laugh that never failed to get me what I wanted.

He gently leaned into the bar, one of his hands coming to rest of the cool wooden surface. "I'm Derek."

"Y/N."

"Pretty name."

I don't know what made me so bold, but I nodded and shot him a wink. "Not as pretty as you."

We shared another laugh, and then I took a swig of my beer, finishing the last of it and then sliding towards him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"We just met and you're already stealing from me... That's my line."

"What can I say, I'm quick... Hey, Carla! Can I get two more for me and my friend here?"

The bartender—and my longtime friend—laughed a little, taking my empty bottle. "Sure thing."

The look she gave me right before turning away practically yelled, I thought your type was helpless skinny white guys who can barely look you in the eye without creaming themselves...

Yeah, well, you worked with what you were given. And besides, my type was practically anyone with just a shred of decency.

Real high bar, huh?

But after Patrick, I couldn't complain. Derek seemed like the type of guy who would flirt with you at any given chance, but respected your boundaries all the same. Unfortunately that was hard to find nowadays, especially in bars like Waterson's.

So, yeah, he wasn't the man I was naively wishing to see here tonight, but he was into me, he was decent from what I could tell, and he was hot.

So we had a drink and spent a good twenty minutes chatting it up. Since it was my third beer of the night, I was accumulating a pretty steady buzz, and the longer I talked with Derek the more I opened up a little. I found myself leaning into him and finding excuses to lightly touch his arm, but I kept noticing that he was glancing down at his watch occasionally.

"Are you expecting someone?" I asked, playfully.

"Right, uh... Yeah, I was supposed to be meeting a friend here. He's usually early, but I think we got our times mixed up again..."

"Again, huh? You two aren't very good coordinators?"

Derek laughed, the sound making me feel all warm. "Well, for FBI agents you'd think we'd be better at it."

"O—Oh," I said, my heart stopping for a beat. Had I heard that right? Was I more tipsy than I thought? "FBI?"

"You seem stunned," he said with another laugh. "What, you're not a criminal, are you? Do I have to take you in?"

I laughed, albeit nervously, but decided that this all had to be pure coincidence. If I didn't, I would have gone insane. Even still, it was difficult for me to sit here and openly flirt with this man when I knew he just confessed to having the same profession as the literal man of my dreams— and as of late that also included daydreams.

In fact, I was positive that's what it was when I saw Spencer approach us— a daydream.

Derek was calling my name, I knew that much, but I couldn't do anything but look over his shoulder where Spencer's ghost practically froze in place when he spotted me.

"Y/N?"

That wasn't Derek's voice. Spencer's mouth moved in time with the calling of my name, and it even sounded like him. I blinked rapidly, hoping that I could snap out of it and excuse myself for the rest of the night, so I could go home and sleep it off.

But even when I finished blinking, expecting Spencer's figure to be gone, he was still there.

At this point Derek had turned around, and what he said next snapped me out of it pretty damn good.

"Reid? You know her?"

"You're real," I said, speaking for the first time in a while. My throat felt dry, and my heart came alive at the sight of him.

Spencer stared at me, his eyes softening after I spoke to him. I saw his lips twitch into a shy smile before his hand came up in an equally shy wave. "Y—Yeah, I'm real." What followed was a huffed laugh that cemented his nervousness at seeing me again for the first time in four months, and it was the most refreshing thing I'd heard in a while.

"Oh my God," I said, a smile of my own starting to creep up.

I'd completely forgotten about Derek being there until he spoke up, snapping us out of our reunion, his voice conveying every range of confusion.

"What the hell is this?"

***

I knew there was always a minor chance that I'd run into her again, but it still rendered me utterly still and practically useless when I spotted her across the bar with Derek.

She was just... there. After months of debating whether or not I should send her a letter with the ring mailed back or stopping by to see her, or even using Garcia's help to find where she might have been so I could 'surprise' running into her... It happened to chance that I didn't need any of that at all. Because she was really there.

And she was flirting with Derek.

I'd have been lying if I said that didn't really bother me, but truthfully I'd always felt a bit insecure around him, mostly when it came to being surrounded by women who were most likely fawning over him instead of me.

Not that I particularly wanted or even needed them to fawn over me in the first place... It was just... Telling.

And it's not like I knew or thought I wasn't at least somewhat attractive. But seeing the one and only woman who'd ever made me feel very good about all of that for probably the first time in my whole life openly flirting with my best friend? It stung. It felt like now that she'd seen me and him in the same place, she'd decide that she'd made a mistake before and that she'd be better off with someone else— someone who was stronger and more skilled and probably easier to look at.

Even when the three of us sat at a booth and Y/N decided to sit next to me, her proximity dizzying after all this time apart, the first thought that came to my mind was, She doesn't want to see me. She'd much rather sit across from Derek so she can look at him instead.

I was starting to think maybe I should have stuck to mailing her a letter...

"So... Are you gonna tell me how you two know each other?" Derek asked, leaning back and easily amused.

Y/N seemed to be amused by all of this, too, because she answered immediately, a tone in her voice that I'd only dreamed about for four months and nine days straight.

"Oh, we were engaged."

If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Derek's eyebrows were going to fly straight off his head. "Engaged? Like... Engaged?"

"I—It's not what you think," I jumped in, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Not really engaged, but... Y/N pretended to be my fiancée once... There were, um... There were these guys who wouldn't leave me alone and she came over and told them off."

I hoped he wouldn't piece it together, but it was inevitable, and the look of realization that crossed his features made me feel extra warm with embarrassment.

"Oh... Is she the reason why you actually said yes to that date last month?"

Y/N turned to me, an eyebrow raised. "A date? Because of me? I don't... I don't follow..."

I was going to explain, but Derek beat me to it.

"I've always tried to set Pretty Boy here up for a date, but he's always said no, and then out of the blue I ask him and he agrees. Which was a shock in its own. I knew something was up, something had to have given him the confidence to go on the date... And all along its been you, hasn't it?"

"Well, I... I don't know, I guess so?"

They both looked at me then, and I stared down at my hands, unwilling to look either of them in the eye. "Y—Yeah... I don't know, I guess Y/N just... helped me see something in myself I hadn't seen before."

I half expected them to think it was silly, but Y/N's hand dropped down onto my knee and I stared at it for a moment before flitting my eyes up to meet her gaze. It was soft, and a small smile grazed her pretty features.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad I could do that for you... How was the date?"

"O—Oh, it... It was fine. Not... I'm not seeing her anymore, but it wasn't bad... Just, um... There wasn't much of a connection, that's all."

In simpler words, She wasn't you.

But I couldn't tell her that, not when she was staring at me again with those sparkling eyes and her hand burning a hole through my pants with her electrifying touch, and most certainly not with Derek sitting right in front of us.

"Hey, whether it worked out or not, whatever you did to get him out there, it must have been one hell of a job," he said as if he'd been reading my thoughts.

Y/N gave me a knowing look, though, and suddenly I was transported to my car, feeling her hand explore my body as she showered me with filthy words and names that set me alight and cemented something about myself that I'd never known. Since then I had dreams about her, telling me how much of a 'good little whore' I was for her, and I always woke up from those dreams clutching her ring around my finger.

"Well, like I said, I'm glad I could help. Your boy here is one in a million."

It was awkward. This was all very extremely awkward. And even though I knew that, I still couldn't bring myself to stop it. I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at Y/N, soaking her all up like she was going to leave again at any given second. I couldn't stop thinking about her, our predicament, what we did and what I discovered about myself back then...

God, I was talking like we hadn't seen each other in years. It was only four months and yet I was acting like she'd left me alone after years of being together. This was ridiculous, right?

Thankfully Derek's phone rang, snapping us all out of the bubble of silence we'd been in for what seemed like forever.

"Uh, I'm gonna... get this. Be back in a few."

I expected Y/N to drop whatever act it was she had going on with me after he left the table, but her hand remained firmly on my knee. And then she moved a little closer, turning to me completely and tilting her head with a smile that only meant mischief.

"So... Looks like we have some catching up to do..."

***

I was practically giddy when Derek excused himself for a "Garcia Emergency". Though, I was concerned until he assured us that it wasn't anything bad, and by the look on his face as he quickly talked things over With Spencer, I got the feeling he was expecting his friend to 'have some fun' tonight. And that's what truly made me giddy.

We sat close to each other again, a few drinks between us and only a few booths away from the one we sat in the first time we met. If it weren't for the rock missing from my finger, I would have been convinced we'd actually transported back to that exact moment.

"You getting Deja vu, Doctor?" I asked with a smile, watching as he swallowed.

"Y—Yeah, kinda. It's great seeing you again, I... I really didn't think I would."

I laughed. "You know where I live, and you're an FBI agent... I'm pretty sure you could have saw me again if you wanted to."

"Well... Yeah, but I didn't want to be creepy or anything..."

"Trust me... If you randomly showed up at my door, I'd be anything but creeped out. I missed you..."

Spencer looked up at me for a moment, his eyes shifting before he seemed to relax. "You... did?"

"Of course... I haven't stopped thinking about you since we met. And I hope that's not creepy," I added in a laugh.

"No, not at all," he reassured with a nervous laugh of his own. "Actually, um... I've been thinking about you a lot, too..."

"Even on your date?"

I'd only meant it as a little joke, maybe another conversation starter, but at the mention he seemed... embarrassed.

"Oh, no, that was... That wasn't really... I—I only really did it to get Derek off my back, it—"

I rested a hand on his arm and smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright... I didn't really mean anything by that, I'm just... I meant it before, I'm really glad you did it. I know you said it didn't really work out, but did you have some fun at least?"

He laughed again, but this time there was hardly any humor in it. "Well, she wasn't you..."

I smiled a bit, but immediately following his words was a wide-eyed terror and instant regret. "Oh, I didn't... I'm sorry, I—"

"So, you did think about me on your date, huh?"

He froze then, presumably at the low, seductive drawl I blanketed over my words. His mouth slightly hung open, tongue flittering behind teeth as he tried to find the right words.

I smiled at him, and then he settled on, "Yeah. I did."

"It's not very polite to think of other girls while you're on a date, you know..." I made sure to let him know I was only teasing, and that I just wanted to know what his reaction would be.

Still, he surprised me when he said, "It's not my fault you're impossible to forget..."

He flashed me a smile then, and my stomach twisted deliciously at the little dash of confidence he'd grown in the past minute.

Maybe I could bring more out of him...

"Okay, fair... But it is your fault that you didn't come find me."

"Also fair... But... You're here now..."

Spencer inched closer to me, and I smiled, taking my bottom lip gently between my teeth before leaning in, too. "How about that..."

Our lips brushed for a second, so gentle it was like being tickled by a feather, and then he spoke again, his breath hot on my mouth. "I've... dreamt about seeing you again for so long now... Kissing you..."

"Me, too," I responded, bringing a hand down to graze the inside of his thigh. "Guess it's a good thing I'm a firm believer that dreams come true."

"Yeah," is all he said before he finally took the initiative to finally kiss me.

I sighed, melting into his touch and tightening the grip I had on his leg. Meanwhile his hands rested at my forearms, fingers dancing experimentally over my skin and making me tingle in their wake. And once I parted my lips, he took his shot and gently brought his tongue out to meet mine in a collision that quite frankly made me throb.

He'd been a decent kisser before, but... It's obvious he's had a little practice since then. Not that I'd have minded either way, but damn if this newfound experience didn't give me the most sinful idea.

I felt him whine as I pulled away, and that made everything even better.

"You wanna get out of here?" I said in the cheesiest way possible. But he didn't seem to mind.

In fact, he nodded rapidly and took a quick drink of his beer before following me out of the booth and towards the door.

***

Leading Spencer up and through the doorway of my house was probably the most electrifying 'date' experience I've had... well, ever. I'd been excited to sleep with people, sure, but with Spencer I found something greater. I wasn't entirely sure what that was, yet, but it was definitely good.

He reiterated that thought nicely once the door was closed and his hands were on my face, bringing my mouth to his again while I dropped by keys and haphazardly threw my phone and wallet on the side-table next to us in favor of gripping his shirt.

Just through his kisses I could tell how much he'd longed for this moment. I know he told me, and I'd certainly understood the feeling, but when it came down to actually acting it out in the flesh, I was much more in favor of that method of communication.

I gladly accepted his wordless confessions, through every groan and gentle graze of his tongue that he offered to me. And in return I gave him sharp tugs of his shirt and hair, conveying my urgency and the need to be closer to him.

When my legs started moving, his did, too, and we reluctantly pulled apart in favor of not tripping up the hard wooden staircase on the way to my bedroom. Though, I was thankful he was in just as much of a rush as I was, because otherwise I probably would have gotten embarrassed.

And that didn't happen easily.

I fumbled for the light switch once the door shut and our mouths connected once again, and I could have sworn it was like something out of a trashy TV show. The thought almost made me laugh, but I held it in in favor of moaning when Spencer lowered his hands to my ass and squeezed, pulling us closer together. I finally hit the light switch and then flow both of my arms to wrap around his neck and draw him even closer.

He was everywhere all at once, and it fueled me. I'd come to miss physical human interaction, but I hadn't realized how badly I craved it until he was right there, taking up all of my personal space and aiding me in creating this perfect recipe of frantic, glorious electricity.

It was going to kill me, and I would have gladly let it.

I experimentally rolled my hips forward and felt him gasp into me, and it wasn't long before he started growing hard.

Good... Now I could set the plan in motion.

"Remember what you told me?" I asked breathlessly before our heads switched sides and leaned in for more kisses.

In between them, he returned, "When?"

"The first time we met..." I trailed my lips down the column of his throat as I continued. "When you said you edged yourself..."

"O—Oh... Yeah, I remember."

"Mmm," I hummed, sucking a mark into his neck for the time being. As I did it, the grip he held on my ass tightened a bit, and I laughed lightly over his skin, slowly licking my way up to his ear. "I wanna see..."

The trembling he provided under my influence was a good sign. And then another came when he whispered. "Y—You want to see... me? Touching myself?"

"Mhmm..." I planted kisses all along his jaw before pulling back to look him in the eye, making sure he knew I was serious when I told him, "But only if that's okay with you."

He didn't even take a second to think, nodding rapidly once more and giving me a flash of a smile. "It's okay."

I hummed happily, leaning forward to give him one huge kiss, long and hard, before pulling away from him completely and nodding towards the bed. "Clothes off..."

Our hands got to work as soon as the words left my mouth.

And it wasn't until my shirt was on the ground and Spencer's eyes remained glued to my chest with trembling hands that I realized, even though we'd slept together before, our clothes had never actually come off. Tonight we were completely baring ourselves to each other, and that was somehow more intimate than the idea of taking his virginity was.

I reached out and grabbed his shirt, gently assisting him in removing it, and it must have snapped him out of wherever he'd gotten trapped because he shook his head and let out a nervous laugh, averting his eyes from me and staring at the ground.

"S–Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for," I reassured, throwing his shirt to the ground next to mine and bringing his hands to rest on my bare stomach, slowly sliding them up. "I like when you look at me..."

His eyes reached mine once again, breath hitching as I guided his hands to cup my breasts over the bra. "Well, I... I like looking at you."

I kissed him again, hoping to bring forth some familiarity to our current routine, and it worked like a charm. Our movements were slow and steady, each article of clothing joining the floor one by one until we were down to nothing but my underwear.

I led him to the bed then, breaking us apart and making him sit. Now that I was taller than him, I gripped his chin in my hand and tilted his head up to look at me.

"Lay back for me?"

He scooted further along the bed until finally he leaned back, his head resting nicely on my pillows. I climbed up after him, kneeling at his feet and bringing a hand down trace lines along the inside of his thigh. Meanwhile I looked him up and down, finally getting a decent look at his full, bare form.

"Ohh, so pretty... And I bet you're even prettier when you're touching yourself... You wanna start?"

He reached out for his dick in answer, wrapping a delicate hand around it and slowly stroking up and down as he looked up at me with the stars in his eyes. "Like this?"

"However you normally do it, baby. Just relax. Make yourself feel good..."

After a slight nod, his hand picked up a little speed. He swiped his thumb over the tip to gather some precum for lubrication, but as hot as that was, I had a better idea.

"Here, let me help," I offered with a smile, leaning down and bracing my hands on his knees. I let spit gather on the end of my tongue before allowing it to drip down and land right on the tip of his cock. The sound he let out, broken and dripping with want, sent a jolt of electricity through my blood, only amplified by how wet he sounded once he started moving his hand again.

I let my eyes roam all over, taking in every heave of his chest, the veins in his arm and hand as he worked himself, the soft fluttering of his eyes as he lost himself in the moment... At the risk of sounding absolutely cheesy, it truly was a magical sight. I felt entirely lucky that I got to see him again at all, and now like this, bare and vulnerable and exuding lust while I was left to my own devices.

All that to say, I hadn't realized I was touching myself as well, until a whimper came from my mouth, my clit gently throbbing with stimulation at the hands of... well, my hand.

Upon seeing me, Spencer let out a whine of his own, picking up speed with his hand and throwing his head back onto the pillow.

"Y/N..."

He wasn't addressing me, wasn't asking me anything at all... My name on his lips was more of a declaration, like some type of chant, a string of letters and syllables formed specifically to bring him closer to the edge he knew he'd have to resist falling from.

"You getting there, baby?"

"U—Uh huh..."

"You better hold it," I drawled lowly, bringing myself into the more strict persona I wanted to bring out tonight, given that's still something he was into. "Just like you promised."

After a few more hard strokes of his hand, Spencer leg to quickly, bringing his hand to rest on his chest as his mouth let out the most delicious whines and grunts of determination to keep it all in. Without the stimulation, I noticed his dick slightly twitching over his stomach, glistening and ��hard...

Fuck, if it wasn't the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced with my own eyes and ears...

I pulled my hand out of my underwear, too, still a little shocked that I hadn't realized before that I was doing it to myself and a little turned on at the fact that it had that big of an effect on him.

"I—I would have been able to go longer, but... But you were there, and you were... And I only ever have you in my head, not right in front of me..."

It was obvious that he was probably afraid he'd let me down somehow, and that was definitely not the case. So I leaned down and dragged my hands over his lower stomach, feeling inch of skin while my mouth came down to press featherlight kisses to the base of his dick. "Spence, that was hot as fuck... You really think of me when you do that?"

"Mhm," is all he offered, currently reveling in the way my tongue darted out to explore the lines of his cock.

"I think of you, too," I admitted, pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his tip. "When I touch myself... I think about how pretty you were the first time I called you a slut... Tell me, baby, you still like that?"

"God, Y/N, yes..."

I sucked gently on his tip now, watching as he watched me, his bottom lip occupied between his teeth and his eyes on the brink of closing.

He was getting close again. So I stopped, pulling off of him with a soft pop and smiling as I crawled up his body and planted a kiss to his cheek. My legs straddled his hips, and I got close to his ear.

"Tell me, what about this... other girl you went on a date with... Did you sleep with her?"

"Um... Y—yes..."

"I'm willing to bet she didn't make you feel half as good as I do..."

"She didn't..."

I smiled against his jaw, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair. "Was she mean to you? Did she make you her dirty little whore?"

I could feel him let out a trembling breath as he answered, "No."

"That's right," I said softly, right before switching gears and tugging on his hair, pulling back to look in his eyes. "Because you're my dirty little whore."

His cock twitched along my ass at my words, and it made me smile. But before I could speak again, he did it first.

"I'm all yours, Y/N... No one else's..."

I couldn't help it then. His words, our position, the needy look in his eyes as he confessed this to me... All of it was enough to make me snap.

So I leaned in and kissed him, hard. My hands tangled in his hair while his flew to my waist, sliding down to play with the hem of my underwear as his tongue slipped into my mouth and against my own with ease. I swallowed each whine with the greatest pleasure, my hips involuntarily grinding down and spreading the evidence of my arousal along the fabric of my panties. I wondered then if he could feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him.

I didn't have to wonder for long though, because he slipped one of his hands around front and dipped into said fabric, finding how wet I was and groaning into my mouth at the feel of it.

"You've been dying to get another try at this pussy, haven't you?" I whispered into his mouth.

Unsurprisingly, I was met with a whine in return. "Uh huh... I missed you so much..."

I ground down into his hand, nipping at his lips a little before giving my next demand.

"Then prove it."

Rather than fingering me like I expected him to, Spencer rolled over and straddled my legs, tearing my panties down and leaving me with a smile.

"I love the confidence you've grown, baby boy... Proves how dedicated you are... to being the best little slut you can be."

"Yes, Y/N," he responded, leaning down and kissing the inside of my thigh. "I wanna be good for you... Let me show you, please..."

"Show me..."

His tongue came in contact with my pussy, and it immediately sent my head flying back into the pillows, a low whine escaping my throat. He flicked it over my clit expertly a few times before going down and licking a broad strip up the entire area. Vibrations flittered along his path through his groans, and just hearing how much he enjoyed it had me clenching the sheets for stability.

"Ohh, what a good boy," I praised, bringing one of my hands to stroke his hair back. "Who's my good little whore?"

He grumbled into me, but I tugged at his hair.

"Say it."

He pulled away briefly then, still in contact with my pussy as he breathed out, "I'm your good little whore..." And then he promptly got back to work, devouring me with a hungry precision that made me laugh.

"Needy, too, I see... So desperate for that cunt..."

"Yes, " I heard him mumble into me. He repeated it a few more times, chanting it as his tongue flicked through me and tasted every last drop of my impending orgasm.

I sat up a little and held his head to me, his tongue moving at a quicker, more relentless pace. My stomach started to twist and my legs clenched, holding Spencer firmly between my legs as my hips rolled forward and met his every movement. Moans fell sweetly off my lips with every second, getting higher and higher until I finally held myself still and let the high take over. His tongue drew out one of the sharpest orgasms I'd ever had, the fervor he delivered making me see stars for a solid twenty to thirty seconds before it finally subsided and my muscles started to relax.

"Fuck," I breathed, almost whining when he removed his mouth from me and just kneeled there, studying my form as I tried to catch my breath. "Get up here," I asked more than demanded, though it might have been hard to tell what with my head spinning.

Spencer climbed over my body and I pulled his face down into a warm, wet kiss that had me tasting myself and growing wet again at the taste. I pulled away then, looking into his eyes and playing with his hair.

"I can't believe you didn't come see me sooner... Depriving me of that pretty fucking mouth..."

He kissed me again briefly, whining into my mouth before I continued. "But no... You were busy going on dates..."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said, kissing my cheek softly, over and over as his lips made their way down to my neck. "I'm so sorry, I... I wanted to see you, I just..."

"I know, I know," I cooed, closing my eyes and relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. "But tonight you're gonna make up for lost time, got it?"

"Yes... Yes, I'll do whatever you want..."

I hummed, bringing his head back up to meet his gaze, and my thumb stroked over his bottom lip. "I want you to put that pretty cock to good use and fuck me like the desperate little slut I know you are..."

I kissed him then, gasping out once he shifted his hips and entered me slowly— I knew he was going to get to it quickly, but I guess I'd underestimated his need to please me.

The sentiment had me curling with want, more of it coming when he bottomed out inside me and trembled. Really, I could feel him shaking as he started to pull out and then back in, setting a steady pace that would surely become more erratic once I started talking to him again.

"Shit..." Spencer cursed, shifting up on his arms for more leverage as he steadily drilled into me. "I m—missed this... Missed you..."

"I know, baby, I know... I missed you, too... And you know what else?"

I drifted one of my hands down in between us, spreading out my fingers so that his cock fit nicely between them as he fucked me. The added friction of my fingers had him whining out, dropping his head down so that his ear was right by my mouth.

I whispered. "So did my pussy... So you better fuck her good..."

The sudden brutal velocity in which he slammed his hips against mine felt like a strike of lightning, and the loud groan he let out against my neck was the thunder. Everything shifted then, Spencer lifting himself up and holding onto my legs as he drilled into me at full force, his body glistening with exertion and my own succumbing to his wind.

"Yeah, that's it," I cooed through a laugh of pure pride. "That's a good fucking whore... Giving me that cock like I own it..."

"Y—You... do," he stuttered through a broken whine. He was getting close again, and I knew just the thing to do the trick.

I reached my hand up to hold his neck, not applying any pressure, but just holding as I forced his eyes down to look at me. "That's right... That slutty cock is mine... Now give it to me..."

The end of my sentence was punctuated with a sharp cry out as another orgasm tore through me. I shouted Spencer's name into the abyss as He fucked me through it and started twitching inside me, signaling his end as well. And the added warmth from his cum as it coated my insides well and truly marked me as his, despite the words we'd just exchanged.

I belonged to him just as much as he did to me, and I wondered if he knew that. If he knew just how much he inhabited my every thought.

I wanted him to know that I was practically infatuated with him.

But that conversation could wait until after we were... settled down.

He was still inside me as he slumped forward, laying his head on my chest and rubbing lines into my forearm.

"You okay?" I asked gently, combing through his hair with my fingers.

"Most definitely... Just... tired."

I smiled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're welcome to stay here for the night..."

He was silent for a long while, almost so long that I thought he'd actually fallen asleep. But then he said, "Right here? With you?" and my heart soared.

"Of course."

Truthfully, I'd have let him stay forever.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the other side of the bed was cold, and his body was nowhere to be found.

***

Dear Y/N,

I'm sorry for leaving you alone last week. I know you must be a little hurt and confused, but if you aren't, then just forget I ever said anything.

Nonetheless, I regretted leaving you behind last time without at the very least sending you a letter, so I hope this one finds you well. After all, you have shown me experiences I never could have imagined enjoying as much as I did, so I should thank you for that.

But that's not all that this letter is for.

I also want to invite you out to dinner some time. I know this might be a little unconventional, but given how we met and also how we reunited, I figured this would be a fun, romantic way to ask you out. I understand if you don't feel that way given that I've more or less abandoned you twice now, but I promise it was all for good reason.

If you'd like to talk more, about anything I've disclosed in this letter, I've attached my phone number below, otherwise I'd love to hear back from you. I know this sounds strange, but I've been dying to know what your handwriting looks like. I bet it's pretty, like you.

Once again, I am truly sorry for leaving you behind without a word, but I want a chance to make it up to you. Please say you'll reach out. Otherwise, I know where to find you if you'd rather I make some cheesy romantic comedy—esque gesture of affection that either makes you fall in love with me or hate me.

Yours, Spencer Reid

***

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douxie-casperan · 3 years ago

Text

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

#Ooc - Behind the curtains #Rise of the Titans #Rise of the Titans spoilers #RotT Spoilers #RoT spoilers #Wizards #Tales of Arcadia #ToAWizards #Hisirdoux Casperan #Douxie Casperan

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