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atlabeth · 8 days ago

Text

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible.

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad.

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him.

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion.

Why?

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him.

But he did.

For you.

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn.

So much for not being obvious.

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least.

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him.

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you.

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says.

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.”

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?”

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.”

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.”

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said.

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!”

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?”

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!”

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him.

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.”

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns.

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown.

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it.

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own.

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with.

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly.

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.”

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—”

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this.

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.”

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”)

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean.

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you.

The thought crossed your mind more often than not.

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not.

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day.

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under.

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment.

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out.

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond.

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly.

“Can I come in?”

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says.

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.”

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper.

“And?”

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.”

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?”

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.”

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance.

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.”

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.”

“Maybe I just like silence.”

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.”

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel.

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—”

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad.

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.”

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you.

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU.

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable.

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical.

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself.

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?”

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.”

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?”

“Which one do you want?”

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.”

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill.

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.”

He shrugs. “Why not start now?”

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?”

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?”

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says.

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap.

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?”

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.”

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?”

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.”

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.”

You scoff. “I do not.”

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.”

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.”

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks.

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.”

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.”

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks.

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.”

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—”

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut.

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?”

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says.

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.”

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.”

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.”

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.”

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid.

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.”

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?”

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.”

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.”

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.”

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.”

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.”

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.”

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?”

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.”

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.”

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.”

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.”

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.”

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?”

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.”

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.”

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.”

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.”

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?”

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask.

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.”

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.”

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.”

You laugh. “Part of our truce.”

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.”

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while.

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.”

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.”

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.”

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.”

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse.

“Does our truce include this?”

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave.

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat.

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze.

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed.

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable.

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax.

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it.

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes #anyone that knows anything about george mason knows how upsetting it is that she went there instead of columbia LMAO #literally the most soul sucking commuter school

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cherie-doll · 7 months ago

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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Summer With Them

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ׂׂૢ Y’all have no idea how much i hate summer i defrost from vampire to weird nerd -1000 aura points or whatever they’re saying on the clock app

Anyways i finished this while at the laundromat

Ghost

Prefers summer nights to summer days or evenings

Sits on the porch at night with you listening to the cicadas sing

And during this time you can’t take showers together bc he won’t let you adjust the temperature, he takes his showers ice cold

Don’t ask me where I get this from but he vibes with that one Type O Negative song bc according to him it gives “summer” (iykyk)

Prob has sun sensitivity

Cannot leave the house without his sunglasses

And he avoids driving when the sun’s too bright

Soap

Bastard who enjoys summer #1

He likes summer because it means going down to the beach and showing off his muscles that stay clothed under uniform throughout the year

Wants to buy swimming trunks that’ll match your swimwear

He likes joining teens in volleyball and flying kites with kids

Loves going on walks on the beach at dawn and dusk

He once gave you a bad scare when making you think the dolphin fin in the water was a shark

Even if you’re at home he’ll drag you out of bed to join his morning walk and evening walks after dinner

Gaz

He’s content with summer

Will come up with tons of things to do

Picnics he prepares every weekend

Cloud watching

Catching fireflies in a jar and setting them free all at once to see them glow

Running his fingers through your hair as the breeze blows

Making lemonade together to stay cool outside

Buys a vintage camera to take lots of pics of you

On every evening walk you take together he picks something small like a leaf or flower and saves it

At the end of the season he gets everything together and creates a page in his scrapbook

Alejandro

Bastard who enjoys summer #2

He likes the feel of summer breeze on his bare skin and you look forward to seeing that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Likes to sleep with the windows open at night

Blasts music

Carne asadas

Frequents the local ice cream shops to buy mangonadas

Throughout the entire summer your kitchen has fruits of all kind that he eats with tajin

Will take you for a drive around in his truck and then find a quiet little spot like a lake or mountain to park and sit on the truck bed watching the sky

Phillip Graves

Sits outside with sunglasses on and beer in hand

Calls for you to come out and sit with him to watch the sunset

Cookouts

Anytime you complain of the heat you better hope he’s not around to yap your ear off about some anecdote from when he was a child

“It’s hot” “Ain’t that hot” he responds whilst his face is sunburned bc he refuses to wear sunscreen

Will only wear sunscreen if you are able to catch him before he goes outside and apply it for him

Keegan

It seems like summer evenings are the perfect time to do stuff

For some reason likes to do things shirtless in summer: yard/garden work, mowing the lawn, washing the car..

You set up a chair on the porch to watch him

Falling asleep on a soft patch of grass under the shade of a tree

Will start a bonfire and sit around it with you for hours into the late hours of the night

Sometimes you’ll stay out so late with him that both of you fall asleep

König

He’s not fond of summer

Would prefer to stay inside but if you want to he��ll go out as well

Sprawls on the floor with the fan on

He’ll drive where you want to go and then sit in the car watching you

Prob keeps ice packs in a cooler to keep cool when going outside for a long time

He’d rather be outside when the sun starts to set and the sky turns orange

Sets up a hammock

Afternoon naps on the hammock with the gentle sway of the wind

Horangi

He likes summer and prepares for it

Just imagine him getting out a little backpack with a sunhat, sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, umbrella, cooling sleeves, etc…

That’s not for him tho that’s for you he puts on sunglasses and is good to go

During summer he loves going to markets and buying fruit bc that’s when it’s best

Lots of strawberries, grapes and tangerines

Constantly reminds you to wear sun protection

He likes being outside a lot actually and will take you to his favorite parks and places to hike

Nikto

The change of seasons does not affect him much

He’ll notice the change of weather one day and mention how much warmer it is

“It’s summer” “Oh, we should go camping soon…”

He’ll take you camping whether you like it or not insisting that you will like it

Sets a tent near the river to catch fish

He also likes to plant vegetables during the nice weather and bring them to you, proudly showing off his hard work rewarded

He likes to cook meals together and eat outside

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sethvzekiel · 1 year ago

Text

141 + könig x cold! squadmate

gn! reader. lowkey inspired by widowmaker from overwatch, mostly platonic unless you squint. reader is very close to laswell in a platonic way + set backstory.

reader x price, gaz, ghost, soap, and 141! konig bc bias. messed with the timeline a little in post-mwii but they’re still 141 and recruited konig. 3k words.

part 2 here.

warnings: canon-typical violence mention. strong language.

callsign is azrael but only mentioned once or twice.

price

Azrael. Angel of death. What the hell did you do to get a callsign like that? Price was almost afraid to ask — if it’s anything like Ghost’s callsign, it can’t be a happy story.

Your file was almost entirely blacked out, but the scant few that he could read was impressive, if not bloody. Laswell always called on you for her most delicate tasks, plenty of it related to human trafficking and stealth operations. You’re not tied to a single company, more a solo merc than a soldier among many, but you’ve served alongside enough armies that your lack of a badge doesn’t matter.

And there’s that feeling again in Price. The dulled rush of anticipation, of knowing that he’s got a good one in his hands, bursting with potential. Laswell recognized it the moment she saw him reading your file for the first time.

“Don’t poach all my good men, Price,” she sighed, but gave him your contact details, regardless.

He wasn’t surprised that you turned him down. Your file was rather explicit in telling him that you’re more a lone wolf than a mainstay. But by the fifth rejected call, he had to play the ‘Laswell’s Christmas drinking buddy’ card and get her to convince you.

It was then that he'd seen you in person for the first time, in the cold light of one of Laswell's safehouses, and it'd be a cold day in hell before Price lets himself get intimidated by anyone, but hell was feeling a little chilly that night.

Still, he'd recruited Ghost. He'd recruited König. Surely, he knew how to handle you.

…right.

Your problem, which Laswell already warned him about, was that while you followed his orders in a professional sense, there was a difference between obedience and genuine respect, the second of which you’d only reserved for Laswell.

Price wasn’t particular about demanding respect from anyone and everyone, but he also had the urge to help you open up, to untangle that knot of bitterness and cold that kept you silent. Yet the distance between your ranks was too wide, with a wall of ice damn near impenetrable for Price. Not that he was the type to give up when faced with such challenges.

If you smoked, he’d easily offer a cigar, but if you didn’t, he’d do most of the talking as you silently stood by him during his smoke breaks just by his office window.

You reminded him a little of Ghost that way, ever the silent shadow with haunted eyes and an icy composure. You also insisted on calling him Captain, which wouldn’t have been an issue if not for how robotic you sounded, even in small talk.

When it got around that Gaz managed to get you to warm up, Price felt half relieved, and half like he'd just been upstaged. That was his job as captain, damn it. He watched you grow from the sidelines, slowly defrosting as you spent more time with the others.

The day after your first leave together out to the pub, he wanted to shut Soap up because of how much he bragged about you taking care of him. Something about you giving him hangover cures and making him food. But he couldn’t have been prouder when he told Laswell the same story.

During your smoke break chats by the window, Price always gave you advice through his stories and musings.

It was only on the last day of your contract that you said anything yourself.

“Kate trusts you.” You spoke suddenly, under the moon of a quiet night.

Price didn’t respond immediately, afraid to break the sudden fragile atmosphere between you two, and silently urged you to continue.

“...she was captured on your watch.” The accusatory sting in your tone was like a knife in the dark.

Price dipped his head low. “And we fought like hell to get her back. We don’t leave our men behind.”

“I know.”

A long silence followed. You were assessing him. Mulling over whether this task force was worth your time or Laswell’s trust. Price could see it in your eyes, and as much as he’d want to convince you to stay right there, that olive branch was already extended a long time ago by Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and even König. As captain, it was his duty to keep you in line. As Price, he wanted to earn your trust. To trust you himself to make that decision.

When his last cigar for the night burned low, the sliver of smoke joining the creeping sunrise, you hummed.

“See you later, Price.”

You retreated back into his office, and from behind him, Price heard the rustle of paper. You left without another word.

He might have rushed to his desk to see what you’d done to his paperwork, and a low, rough chuckle bubbled from within his chest.

You signed his offer.

ghost

‘Laswell’s attack dog.’ That was the cruel summary of your file.

Ghost was the first person Price consulted with on getting you in the team. From how Price and Laswell described you, it slowly dawned on Ghost just how much Laswell trusted you.

If the 141 fails, Laswell will send you.

Naturally, that made Ghost a little wary of you. He trusted Price, he trusted Laswell, but he didn't trust this outlier. You're another sniper, too. Just what he needed after König joined up. Wonderful.

He wasn’t subtle in his caution against you, but it wasn’t supposed to be subtle. It was a warning.

You didn’t cause trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact: you were quiet. Too quiet. Always tending your gear or spending hours at the range, seeming to only have the next battle in mind. He had to check the security feed to make sure that you were going to your room at night and getting food instead of living at the range 24/7.

By that point he’d decided to go to the range and see you for himself.

“Where’d you learn?”

He couldn’t help but ask as you perfected a whole round of targets. You weren’t startled by his presence, already having heard his quiet steps long before he saw you.

“Picked it up as a habit,” was your frosty reply. “Then did it for money.”

“How old were you?”

“Ask Kate.”

There it was. He had his suspicions about how you came to be so attached to Laswell. If you’d served in enough missions, or if there was something deeper than that, with how you would kill for her without question or how Laswell trusted your strength, yet still discreetly asked Price to keep an eye on your well-being.

“Suppose I won’t,” he said, and that was enough for your to pause and turn back to him.

“Thought you were grilling me for info, LT.”

“I know when not to pry. You better not bring old enemies to us.”

“The dead can’t walk.”

Were you cold? Distant? A bit mean? Yes, yes, and yes. But Ghost was patient. So long as you weren’t a threat or nuisance to the team, you could stay. You were even one of the more obedient ones, so he wasn’t complaining.

That changed when he partnered with you on the field for the first time. It was also your first mission with the others, as you were usually the sniper from the far back instead of charging in with them.

Amid the sands and gunpowder, you were a machine. No enemy slipped past your combined strength, and you complemented each other’s combat styles perfectly. He goes in with the heavy fire while you shot down snipers like you already knew exactly where they were.

“Fuckin’ splendid, soldier,” he said on the way back, when everyone else was asleep.

“I try, sir.”

He looked forward to training with you from then on, silently one-upping each other’s skills from shooting to sparring in an endless chase to the top. The competition grew notorious enough that other soldiers began approaching you for advice on how to improve themselves or to compliment your skills, garnering a reaction from you that only Ghost could tell was embarrassment.

Despite not being as close to you as the rest, your standoffishness and frigid personality were things that Ghost was familiar enough with that he could see right through you.

“Aw no, another Ghost?” Soap once complained when Price sent them your file. Ghost had only scoffed then at the ridiculous notion.

Now, though, as you silently fussed over your teammates while insisting that you weren’t at all concerned, it made him feel a little warm inside.

Nothing wrong with a second Ghost if it meant more people looking out for his comrades.

And with how you seemed to have König wrapped around your little finger, Ghost could at least trust you with keeping him in line.

gaz

He can’t explain why, but there’s something about you that reminded him of his old anger; the frustration he had with how much injustice the world let slip between the cracks, the helplessness he’d felt before he met Price.

Your relationship with Laswell… it’s a little like his own with Price, but in the place of brotherhood or mentorship is something quiet and mournful, the kind of loyalty forged out of a dark place. It’s clear that you view Laswell as a kind of savior, the type you’d owe your life to. It’s the only way to explain why you only come back to her.

Gaz kept his distance, unlike Soap. He could tell when you needed space and respected it — unlike Soap. Or Price. Or — he couldn’t believe it — Ghost. It’s just Gaz being respectful, definitely not related to feelings of intimidation or fear. Maybe.

Funnily enough, it’s that wordless consideration of your alone time that made Gaz the first person you warmed up to. It was only a brief chat about when the next resupply for ammo comes in. You’d been running low for a while and your kit is rather specialized, but Gaz was the first you’d spoken to without hostility or work in mind.

With that ice broken, the next conversations were slow-going, but easier. Shared watch duty where Gaz babbled mindlessly about everything he'd been thinking about, just to keep himself awake, while you listened silently, but intently.

Gaz didn't know that you were actually paying attention until you started setting out his favorite tea in the morning without a word or clearing your throat before entering a room because he hated getting startled. Those were things he'd only told you at night, when he thought you were barely tolerating him.

Instead of a terrifying shadow, he started to see the human side of you. The considerate side that you tried to hide with a bitter scowl when he brought it up. Dare he say it, it was a little endearing, like the grumpy stray cat he used to feed as a kid.

When the rest of the 141 noticed, he'd automatically been designated as your unofficial 'translator.' He could decode any of your blank (and sometimes terrifying) expressions to the letter.

"Quit it, Soap, they need a nap."

"Captain, you're bumping into their injured shoulder, sir."

"LT, might want to hide your tea stash, think they saw your cup."

"König, come back! We just wanted to compare gear!... Eh, sorry mate, he's gone."

"What d'you want, black coffee or... latte? Huh. Two lattes, please."

Usually, when you'd be paired up with Gaz, you're the sniper supporting him from far away. Your quiet murmur over the comms, even in a firefight, instantly calmed him down and Gaz swore that he worked better when he knew you were watching him.

Post-mission naps on your shoulder didn’t sound too bad, either. That was a privilege he wasn’t going to give up to anyone. No matter how annoying about it Soap got.

soap

We know Ghost's attitude didn't stop Soap from getting all buddy-buddy with him.

But even then, your demeanor, as sharp as a coldsnap and twice as biting, gave him pause. He's spoiled with reactions from other people to his presence, whether it's reciprocated friendliness or annoyance at his energetic personality. Total apathy, with a tinge of hostility, only came from Ghost and you. And Ghost warmed up to the guy already, so your silence bothered him a little.

Not that he hated you, but it stirred a competitive urge to challenge your coldness and finally get you to crack.

Mercifully, he somehow didn't end up getting killed in the process of fighting for your attention. He's not subtle about it, though: other people on base always referred to him as your 'pet dog' when he's looking for you.

"Hey, your Scottish Terrier came by, was yowling for your attention."

"Put your dog on a leash, would you? He won't stop interrupting R&D to ask where you are."

"Feed your pup, sergeant, he looks pitiful from over here."

But you didn’t look down on him the way others do. You didn’t see some kid trying to play hero, who got lucky because Price took a shine to him and had no other skills to speak of. You looked down on him the same way you did at everyone else: a detached gaze from your metaphorical ice castle, nothing more. And in a twisted way, it’s refreshing.

When he found out that you'd gotten close with Gaz before anyone else, he was ready to whine. Ghost certainly got the worse end of his complaints. Since then, he'd butt into yours and Gaz's conversations, especially when you started joining the boys for lunch instead of eating alone.

It was only on your first leave together, your first civilian outing, that Soap realized that you were closer than he'd thought.

While he was drinking at the pub, you carefully watched him, silently looking out for signs of him getting too drunk, at which point you'd begun secretly ordering watered-down versions of his drink until it was practically juice.

Even with how wasted he was, he saw through your trick, but all was forgiven by the next morning when you'd cared for him through his hangover in your own, grumpy way. You even cooked breakfast for him, but he wouldn’t tell you that it was practically tasteless and mostly hangover cures. The thought counts, right?

And wow, he would not stop rubbing the fact that you took care of him all over 141’s faces.

“Watch your back, Gaz. I’ll be takin’ your spot soon!”

“Johnny, it’s two in the fucking morning.”

“You can’t be their favorite and Price’s at the same time. Pick one!”

“No. Besides, think König is second to me, not you.”

“The fuck?”

könig

You reminded him of the deep winters of his deployments in the north. Cold, cruel, yet beautiful. Sorrowful. Lonely. Silent. Calming.

Make no mistake, the first few months with you around, König was sure he was going to have a breakdown. Your lightless stare bored holes into him, no matter how hard he tried to hide from your field of view. It took enough of his energy to resist the urge to hide behind any of his new 141 teammates. Seriously, how did he get along better with Ghost than with you when you didn't even have a mask?

It didn't matter if you’re built like Ghost or the scrappiest operator around: your chilling aura always left König with his hands clammy and breaths a little short.

If Gaz pre-friendship was giving you space, König was running from you at first sight.

But when König watched you grow close with the rest of the 141, his sharp eyes catching that lightning-fast flicker of tenderness on your face, it was over for him. He had to see it again, like sunlight glancing off fresh ice.

Cue the big guy trailing after you helplessly, like a fidgety shadow, that the other 141 members politely pretended to ignore. Not that he's any good at hiding.

König may have done a good job at absolutely shattering his terrifying image with his actions at base, but when you're on the field, he's an entirely different person.

A beast. A hunter. A king of the battlefield. He's covered in blood from head to toe, glee rushing through his veins as he bludgeoned two men with his bare hands. For a moment, he wondered if you would be impressed with his kill count. You must be. Then he thought for another moment. Then another.

And he remembered that you were his partner for this mission, and that no, this was not a good look for him.

Slowly, horrified, he turned back to you. You looked over the aftermath: a warehouse filled with bodies, not all of them slain with bullets, and broken weapons. König barely heard you convey your victory to Captain Price over the comms, even if you were right in front of him.

It was only when you clapped him on the arm that he snapped to attention: both from your touch and the miniscule smirk on your lips.

"Don't forget to watch your six."

"You... are not... afraid?"

"Just glad I'm not on your bad side. Let's go."

On the next missions, König would restrain his bloodlust a little, if only to see you in action himself. You moved smoothly and quietly, just like a shadow leaving death in your wake. He watched you snuff out an entire enemy safehouse without anyone noticing.

You truly were the Angel of Death, going from door to door, taking lives like it was divine decree. There was never a more beautiful sight.

König was... stuck to you like glue, to say the least. He'd slowly begun joining you at target practice, or sparring, or running into you around the base and coincidentally offering his help with the reports you meant to file.

Whether you noticed or not, he didn’t care. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if you noticed how helpful he’d been. The more you saw him as reliable, the more you’d be willing to be his buddy on the field, yes? And the more he’d get to see you in action, no?

Now, if only the others would stop hogging you for a second… he could interrupt that conversation you were having with Ghost… if Ghost wasn’t looking… any time now…

#cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #konig x reader #cod fanfic

2K notes · View notes

sinsatmidnight · 1 year ago

Text

30 Years Later

Pairing – Kim Minji (JiU) x Male Reader

Words - 3101

Sins – Smut, oral, sumata, shower sex

So...it's been a while. I have not been keeping up with what goes on Tumblr, I have to admit, and nor have I read any (most? I may have read a couple during this period) of the many stories that people have started after I stopped. I'm inevitably rusty, but I had this draft I started a long while back that I somehow got into the mood to finish, so I figured I may as well post it, just for fun. Maybe someone will enjoy it. Hopefully you like it if you read it! And no, I don't expect a significant uptick in activity from me, but I may pay more attention to some of the other stories being written. Working on this was not quite the healthiest thing (because uh, I may have overused a certain part of my body the last couple of days) and let's just say one of the reasons I'm posting this is because it already had a significant bit written. But I kinda wanna subject myself to more of this...abuse(?) now. Ugh I'm rambling, but anyways, hope everyone has a good day (or night)!

(2130 hours, 20 September 2220, Eternity)

It started out muffled. The droning sound breaking into your consciousness, jolting it to life. You have no idea what it is. Or where you are, for that matter. Your eyes are closed. But your ears are sharper now that your mind is actively concentrating on listening.

A voice. Female. You can’t make out words but she sounds calm. And then your eyes slowly open, almost as though forced open by an outside force. That’s when you remember.

“Condition is stable, consciousness gained, cryo pods are opening.” That calm, droning female voice comes through clear to you now. There is a soft hiss as the transparent door of your cryo pod slides to the side. The light outside your pod is quite soft, and yet at the moment to your eyes, it is blinding. Disoriented by your awakening, you lay in the gel bed as you try to get your bearings.

“Eden? Status update…oh, and what is the current date and time?”

The ship’s AI, Eden, responds in the electronically generated calm tone that all shipboard Ais use. “Welcome back, Commander. All of the Eternity’s systems are currently running optimally. All crew members are in good health. It is currently 2130 hours, 20 September 2220.”

Your mind does the math easily despite just coming back from the induced cryo-sleep. Thirty years. Well, that would be right. Crew members were supposed to be woken up after thirty years to run manual checks on the ship’s condition and look over all data collected automatically by ship sensors and the AI. They stay up for two weeks and then go back into cryo-sleep. And after the first thirty years, this is repeated every five years.

Your mind remembers that crew members aren’t woken up alone, they’re normally woken up in pairs as an additional safety measure. One person who can handle technical or mechanical issues on the ship, which in this case is you, and one more person who is medically trained to check on the sleeping crew and in case of medical emergency.

Your gel bed is softening; rapidly melting as you defrost and becoming less of a gel and more of a slime. A marvel of human technological ingenuity; the clear gel froze quickly, was non-toxic in case of accidental ingestion, while also serving as a shock-absorbent and anti-bacterial bed for cryo-sleep.

You need to get out and check who else was awakened with you. As your hands reach and hold on to the sides of the pod, you realise that you have an erection. Your mind immediately jumps back thirty years prior, to the minutes right before the crew enter cryo-sleep. It might have been from thirty years ago, but those are your last waking memories and they feel like just minutes ago instead.

You remember undressing before you enter your cryo pod; cryo-sleep has to be done naked and trying to unpeel clothing frozen to a person for years is painful. And that was when your eyes caught sight of the occupant of the pod opposite you.

With long dark hair and incredibly kissable lips, combat medic Kim Minji drew attention wherever she went. She was tall, gorgeous and had a body that drew a reaction from your own. As you watched her unzip her white bodysuit and slip out of it, stripping off her underwear and getting naked, you felt the blood rush to your penis and you were glad that she was too preoccupied with her own cryo-sleep preparations to look over at you. You ended up getting frozen before your erection could soften.

Back in the present, another female voice that definitely wasn’t Eden’s cuts into your thoughts. “You’ve had that for thirty years, Commander?’

As you stumble out of the pod, the melting gel dripping all over the floor, your eyes immediately catch sight of Kim Minji’s naked body standing outside her pod, the clear slime dripping off her body and giving it a shimmering sheen under the soft white lights of the cryo chamber. You quickly realise two things: that Kim Minji is your medically trained partner that you’re going to be alone with for the next two weeks and that your erection won’t be going down anytime soon despite your embarrassment at getting caught. You technically outrank her, but that doesn’t matter when there’s just two people awake on the ship.

Minji’s gaze is fixed upon your groin and very obvious erection and a smirk plays on her red lips. “Oh, Minji, I-“

Before you can think of an excuse, Minji cuts in. “Thanks for the compliment, I guess. I’ve never had a guy have a boner for me for that long.”

You smile sheepishly and try to change the subject. “Let’s go wash up before we start work.” At the far end of the cryo chamber was the doorway to another smaller room. A shower chamber with a row of showerheads which to wash off the slime with warm water before you got dressed. There were no partitions, they didn’t bother with them, given that everyone is naked in the cryo chamber anyway. And anyone outside the showers can see into them, given that the walls and doors are made of transparent shatter-proof glass.

You drip clear slime onto the silvery metallic floor beneath your bare feet and the metal doesn’t feel cool to your touch, but given that you were completely frozen minutes ago, that’s understandable. The two of you make your way towards the shower chamber, walking past the other cryo pods which stand up at 45-degree angles, glancing at the naked bodies of other crew members stored in cryo-sleep within them. The water from the shower feels warm to you, a nice comfortable temperature. Minji is next to you, the water flowing over her naked and fit body. It's not helping your erection. Her voice cuts into your thoughts. "I can feel some slime on my back still, could you help me scrub it off?" You hesitate for a moment but then your hand reaches forward and runs over her smooth back, swiping the slime off. You feel Minji's body shiver at your touch, and she lets out a soft moan.

You are sure that your erection is pointing straight up now. Not that it wasn't before, but this situation is just prolonging it.

"Oh, that's nice. Can you do it a little lower, please?" She asks, and your hands move further down. Your hands are caressing her pert ass now, the soap lather coating it and making it feel smooth. Minji is letting out soft moans and you are enjoying touching her. As you wash her ass, your fingers stray between her legs, rubbing against her dripping vaginal folds. She is wet and it is not the water causing this.

"You're doing a great job, Commander. But there's a lot more I need you to wash for me." You turn her around so that she is facing you. You look into her eyes and she is biting her lower lip. Minji has a perfect pair of breasts, firm but soft and a nice handful. They are covered with soap lather now and you find your hands moving forward to massage her tits. You pinch her pink nipples, feeling her tremble as you touch her. Minji leans into you, her wet body pressing against yours. She feels hot to the touch, as though her temperature has gone up.

"Look, I really feel like I should help you with that boner of yours." Minji whispers breathily. "Can I do that for you, Commander?" She has already reached down and taken your hard length in her hand, her thumb rubbing the head of your cock, spreading the precum that had gathered. She gives your cock a gentle tug, and it takes all of your willpower to not cum on her right then and there.

"Fuck, Minji, that's- that's fine." You let out an odd mix of strangled gasp that ends in a muttered assurance, as her soft hand continues to firmly stroke your erection.

"Thanks, Commander. I appreciate it." Minji presses those incredibly kissable red lips up against yours, and her tongue hungrily comes out to play. You reciprocate, even as your hands are busy continuing to explore her body. Her hands, on the other hand, are one of the most pleasurable experiences you’ve ever had as your wet cock is deftly and smoothly pumped and stroked.

With a wink, Minji drops to her knees, the water from the showerhead splashing her face and wetting her long hair. She presses her tits together and wraps them around your throbbing shaft.

It feels good and your body instinctively thrusts forward, your hips rocking back and forth, fucking her breasts. Your balls are tensing up, and you can tell you aren't going to last long. It is smooth and slick between her breasts and the tip of your cock is rubbing up against her lips with her tongue comes out to tease the tip. Your eyes stare at her as she looks back at you and with a smirk, Minji parts her lips, taking the head of your cock into her mouth.

The tip of her tongue swirls around the sensitive head, licking up the precum that continues to leak. Then, she starts bobbing her head forward and back, taking more and more of your shaft into her mouth, eventually releasing your cock from between her tits. Minji hums contentedly as she sucks and swallows your cock, and her hand is wrapped around the base, pumping you in time with the movements of her head. Minji’s other hand has drifted between her legs, and she starts to furiously masturbate as she blows you. Her slender fingers plunge in and out of her leaking vagina as she keeps her thumb vigorously rubbing her engorged clit.

As you lock eyes with the gorgeous medic on her knees in front of you, she gives you a sultry look, her lustful eyes peering into yours as she sucks you off. Minji’s expert tongue swirling around your shaft and the vibrations of her moans as she takes your dick deep into her throat very quickly becomes too much for you. Your hands need to grab something, to get control.

Your fingers run through her long hair and roughly grab hold of her head, pulling her towards you as you thrust into her mouth hard. You hear her gag a little, but she doesn’t stop with her movement. You feel the pressure building up, and your hips are moving of their own accord. Your cock is hitting the back of her throat, and your balls are tightening.

With a moan, you cum in her mouth. Thick spurts of cum erupt from your dick and fill her throat. She swallows it all, and stands up, licking those red lips. "That was tasty. It’s not every day you get to taste cum stored up for thirty years."

You barely register her words, breathing heavily. That was the most intense orgasm of your life. Your cock is still hard, but Minji is seemingly satisfied. For now.

Or maybe not. She steps away from you, and turns around, bending over. Her shapely ass is facing you, and her pussy is glistening. She looks back at you and wiggles her hips. "Can you help me clean down here too, please?"

You can't refuse Minji’s request. You have to return the favour, after all. You move towards her and rub her pussy. It is dripping wet, and her juices are flowing freely. You stick a finger inside her and feel her walls clench around it. She lets out a gasp, and pushes her hips back, as if wanting more.

"Oh, I really need it, Commander." She pants, as you continue to finger her. You pull out, and she lets out a groan. "Why did you stop?"

"Just making sure you're ready for me." You reply as you give her pert ass a quick spank, drawing a low moan from the medic. You position your cock at her entrance and push inside her.

She gasps and whimpers as you enter, and you feel her pussy walls tighten around your shaft. You start to thrust into Minji’s soaked pussy, and she groans while pushing her hips back to meet your thrusts. You grab her hips and pull her closer, helping her out in an attempt to get ever deeper inside her. She cries out in pleasure, as you fuck her as hard and fast as you.

It doesn’t take long before you are getting close to climax, and she is too. You can feel her walls tightening around your shaft, and her breathing is getting faster. You grip her hips tightly and pound her harder.

"Commander!" She moans, as she orgasms. Her juices flow over your cock, and you can't hold back any longer. You pull out of her and explode all over her ass and back, creating a sticky mess there. And then you plop down on the ground, all this exertion so soon after coming out of cryo-sleep has taken a lot out of you.

You both pant, catching your breath. Minji crawls over and kisses you deeply. "Thanks, Commander. I can't wait to work with you for the next two weeks." You can only nod breathlessly in response, your tongue wrestling with hers. Minji breaks the kiss and stands up, with her back to you. “Well, going to need your help with this mess here. Your fault, so you clean it up, sir.” Your gaze goes over her cum-glazed skin and you stand up to grab a sponge from the side of the room, lathering it up with some body wash from a dispenser. You start to work on cleaning her up, using the sponge to get your semen off her skin. But Minji is inherently distracting. It is clear whenever you touch her that she is affected by it. You hear some sighs of pleasure, even the occasional whine when your hands leave her.

This inevitably affects you and you are somehow hardening again down below. You make a split-second decision and suddenly press Minji's wet body up against the wall. You swiftly follow that up by sliding your semi-erect dick in between her soaked creamy thighs. You start to thrust in between her thighs, making sure that you brush against her pussy fold throughout.

"Oh, you're naughty, sir." Minji pants lustfully. You can feel the warmth of her vagina radiating through your thrusting member. You are quickly erect once more. This feels even better than her sucking and giving you a titfuck. "How is this, Minji?" You whisper into her ear.

"Fuck, Commander. That's… that's really good. Really, really good." She whimpers breathily, her body pushed up against the transparent wall, tits first. Your cock continues to slide between her thighs, teasing her pussy. You are both covered in soapy suds, the water from the shower spraying and splashing on the both of you. Her skin feels silky smooth and slippery to the touch. With each thrust, her ass and thighs clap loudly. You reach forward and fondle her tits, her nipples hardening and her breathing quickening. You keep thrusting, enjoying the feeling of her soapy thighs wrapped around your shaft. Minji is moaning and gasping with each thrust, and her breathing is getting faster.

Her legs are trembling, and her juices are flowing freely, mixing with the soap suds and water. Your balls slap against her clit, and she cries out in pleasure, her whole body shaking. You reach forward and grab her wrists, pinning her to the glass wall. She lets out a moan and arches her back. You kiss her neck and shoulders and continue to fuck her soapy thighs. She is whimpering and moaning with every thrust, and her juices are flowing freely, making her inner thighs and your cock very slick and slippery.

Your thrusting becomes faster and more urgent. Minji is definitely close to climaxing; you hear her moans and whimpers are getting less coherent and more urgent; you’re sure you catch some lust fuelled whining and babbling about wanting your cum and something about being fucked hard. Your cock is slamming against her pussy, and her walls are clenching around it, her juices leaking out. She is breathing heavily, and her legs are trembling.

You release one of her hands and guide it down to her clit, prompting her to start rubbing it furiously. Her fingers are a blur, and her moans become louder and more urgent. You continue to fuck those soaped-up milky thighs of hers, and she is practically screaming in pleasure, her voice echoing off the walls of the shower room. Not that you had to care about anyone hearing you. You did have an odd sort of audience in the rest of the crew outside in cryo-sleep, just beyond the transparent wall you have pressed Minji against.

Your cock is twitching and pulsating, and you can feel the pressure building up. You are both close to that final edge, and the only sounds are your heavy breathing, the splashing water, and the loud clapping sound of her ass and thighs slapping against your cock and balls.

You thrust forcefully into her thighs a few more times, and then you erupt. Your thick, creamy load sprays onto her thighs and the transparent wall, coating them in your semen. Her body shudders, and she cries out, reaching her own climax. Her juices flow over your shaft, and she slumps down, exhausted. You follow suit and collapse next to her. You both lie there for a while, trying to catch your breath. You do catch out of the corner of your eye, that Minji takes a few licks of your cum from the wall.

The two of you eventually manage to finish your shower and dry up, with you eyeing Minji the whole time as she puts that white bodysuit back and zips it back up. She catches your eye, bites her lip, and then smirks naughtily. You’re both relieved and regretful that your cock is worn out and needs rest. That would have brought it back up. You and Minji are both very well aware that you don't actually have much to do over the next couple of weeks, other than the occasional diagnostic check of the ship’s systems and such. The ship’s AI, Eden was there to handle the heavy lifting. And so, you're very much looking forward to the next couple of weeks alone with Minji.

#male reader #reader insert #dreamcatcher jiu smut

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puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago

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Prompt 205

Now let it be said that not a single one of their team (“Does it count as a team if it’s just the three of us?” “Um, what about the Superman clone here??” “Four was the same number of the original League, so yeah we’re a team!”) were expecting to stumble across much of anything deeper in the Cadmus Labs.

They’d already discovered- and released- the super secret super-boy clone after all, so that was the big thing discovered and taken care of! Only they had uh, found something else, another tube even deeper with the room practically frozen, while trying to find the way out.

Now normally, opening the big tube would be a bad idea! But they had a bunch of creatures and security and whoever else on their tails, and hey, why not fight fire with fire and escape while everything was distracted?

Only when things start to defrost they- the sidekicks who are not sidekicks thanks- are really alarmed and starting to worry about what the fuck is inside. Because the cryogenic-liquid-whatever tube is way bigger than they thought, and the files that Robin hacked refers to whatever is inside as a quote, potentially world-ending dangerous entity.

And it’s not even fully defrosted before it starts to break free. One clawed hand- and then another, and another and another- grip onto the broken material, green dripping from where tubes were shrugged free. Its hair shifts and weaves in the air as though underwater, opalescent and each strand shimmering a different color.

It’s absolutely massive, humanoid with long tapered ears and a cacophony of differently shaped horns floating above its head. They’re wary, suddenly remembering every single lecture about dangerous unknowns as it shakes the liquid from a body that appears almost scaled, eight arms easily lifting itself so that it may step out.

They’re also suddenly reminded of the danger they’re in from other things when there’s a crash against the door, like one of those gynomorph tank things had slammed against it. It also causes the being’s head to snap up from where they were seemingly watching the liquid pool beneath them, nine eyes opening from their previously half-lidded position.

A deep rumbling noise echoed around the room as it stopped slouching, showing just how tall it was while three tails lashed in what was obviously some sort of agitation. When they speak, it’s not in any language the three of them know, but Superboy’s head snaps from the door towards them, eyes suddenly wide in child-like wonder.

(“Oh! It’s a baby~”)

Why yes, Even more of Tiamat Class Prompts- but Humanoid!

#Dcxdp #Dpxdc #Prompts #Young Justice sort-of #The Class Pulls a Tiamat #But they also have humanoid form that’s not like 100+ feet tall #NGL Connor was vibing while the other three are freaking out #He’s just a lil guy y’know- a lil dude- a bby boi #Part of their DNA might have been used as stabilization for his creation #The Class: Omg look it’s a baby- oh you’re all trapped and need to get out? Sure why not :)#Tim is trying to catalog EVERYTHING about them #Barry is wondering how much something that big might eat #Roy is just trying not to let the younger sidekicks die y’know how it is #Connor is just: Parent? Parents for me? Safe Parents who protect me??#For those not familiar the 9 are: Danny; Sam; Tucker; Valerie; Wes; Dash; Kwan; Paulina & Star #How did they end up in Cadmus? Good Question #Probably has to do with the GIW

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atlasofthestaars · 1 year ago

Note

hii! this is my first time requesting ever, but I just love your writing so much that I just have to ask:

can i request general headcannons with mk1 Bi-Han and female reader? if you’re comfortable with writing nsfw, can i also ask for some of those? I dont have anything specific in mind but im just dying for you to write more for Bi-Han, i think you write him soo well.

if you can’t/don’t want to do those, its totally ok! i just had to request from my favorite mk writer. thank you soo much!! 🫶🏽

ps. I LOVE NEW ERA SO MUCHHH UGHH

notes: oops i should have done these. a LOT sooner LMAO. idk if my headcanons are gonna be unpopular or not but this is how I see the bastard (only semi affectionately) most of these don’t really apply to female reader until the NSFW tbh, but even then I’m not too descriptive? I kinda wrote these informally but at the same time, very analytical?? You’ll see HAHA these are more like my rambles than shorter hcs. I probably should have made the NSFW parts sexier sounding LMAO they’re very like, analytical.

I also can probably do more of these if you guys want?? I just kinda wrote whatever but I’m certain I could write tons more HAHA

Btw ty for liking New Era and being so patient for your wait ! <3

SFW

Bi-Han would only be with a partner, imo, if he truly loves them. Loyalty, trust, etc. are all important to him. To be with a person for the sake of being in a relationship imo is not his style. Especially if his father wanted an arranged marriage? He would not be happy with it. He can rule by himself, thank you very much.

When Bi-Han loves you, he loves you. He may not say it much, but he does. It is not as if he thinks saying “i love you” is stupid. No, he understands it is important, he just knows that you know already. In rare moments where he is nearly overwhelmed with affection for you, he’ll say it first. But I think it is more likely he would only say a simple “i love you too” after you say it.

I can’t imagine Bi-Han to be the type of person to fall for someone at first sight or jump into dating someone quickly. I think the only way he’d fall for someone is to be friends with them first and slowly he’d fall, then the feelings would hit him all at once.

Bi-Han finds it hard to deny you. Even when he says no, he is probably thinking of other alternatives for you. Idk! I think this man would be kind of a simp deep down if he truly found someone he loves. But not like overboard, it’d be very subtle. Which is a lot for a frosty man like him.

Bi-Han’s love language imo, is acts of service. Probably small things like making you breakfast, helping you do your hair if you have longer hair, maybe even showing you how to properly stretch if you often feel sore. Little things that add up.

Bi-Han would allow you to be in his office just to enjoy your company. He probably wouldn’t talk much, mostly just listen in those moments when he’s concentrating. Your presence alone is enough for him when he’s working.

If he’s giving gifts, I imagine he’d probably be the type of person to place it in a place you’d see it, but no one else would. He’d leave a simple note like, “thought of you”. I don’t think he’d give it in person because he’s far too stiff to make it feel romantic enough,

I don’t think dates come often. but when they do Bi-Han would do something probably quiet and with just you. He’d rather spend the precious time he has not doing his duty with just the person he adores, no one else.

Probably not at first, but after you’ve been together for a while I think he’d allow you to brush and comb his hair. It’s not that he is particularly touch adverse with his hair, I just think he’s really fussy with it.

Not a fan of PDA. He doesn’t like the looks others give him and how he can tell that they’re thinking how did he get someone to defrost him? Far too nosey for his tastes. But if you want it, he’d probably indulge you in maybe a bit of hand holding. Maybe a peck on the cheek or on the lips once in a while, but he’s generally a private person.

Bi-Han has cold hands. Nothing he can do about it. Even with his fine control of cryomancy, there’s the lingering chill that is stuck to his skin.

I’d like to imagine that he would give very soft kisses in private. A kiss on the hand, a kiss on the forehead, etc. Small moments.

Probably has given you one accessory the same shade of blue as his uniform. It pleases him just to see the subtle way you match.

NSFW

Ok. Listen. He’s a virgin. It’s not that I think he’s a “saving myself for marriage” type of man, I just think that he would not really be attracted to people enough to want a fling or something unserious.

He probably is very hard to arouse unless he knows he won’t be interrupted or if it is work time. He’s just very regimented like that. Still, if you were to try and tease him by a little touches or with some particularly revealing clothing, then he supposed it would be a little harder to keep his mind off of the way your body feels under his hands.

Anyways, he probably will want to take the dominant role. I mean, it’s Bi-Han. But he won’t deny you if you ask for something, at least, until he learns that teasing you works very, very well. Then you’ll probably have to learn some more patience.

I think he knows for the most part what to do, but he just doesn’t have any hands-on experience for him. He’s a visual learner, want to teach him?

I think Bi-Han would at first think he would prefer receiving than giving, then after realizing how wonderful you look when you fall apart at his touch, he would think he very much prefers giving. It gives him almost a sense of power to see it, it makes him want more.

Still, he wouldn’t deny you if you were to give him a blowjob. It is undeniable how lovely you look on your knees, sucking his cock just to please him.

If you give him a blowjob, look up at him. It drives him wild and he will probably entangle his hands in your hair if he hasn’t already.

Bi-Han would probably take sex as seriously as training. He’s here to please you after all.

With that being said, I think he’d be probably full of vigor doing anything you wanted. For example, you’d probably feel it the next day with how hard he’d thrust. Or you’d be guaranteed at least one orgasm with him eating you out, because he is a very stubborn man and he won’t stop until he sees you unravel upon his mouth.

I don’t think he’s very vocal. Probably grunts and muffling his noises in your skin.

Back to the teasing idea, I think he would develop a liking to teasing you, edging you if you will. The moans you make, the way you tremble under his touch…it is very appealing to him. Plus, he has a sharp eye, he’d notice how it seems to make the pleasure in the end so much more than if he gave you it right away.

I think he wouldn’t notice it, but if you pull his hair it would ignite some sort of fire within him.

I like to imagine he would want to kiss during sex here and there. Your lips just look even more lovely in those moments.

He’d probably love to cum inside of you. It’s a little fantasy of his. He wouldn’t though, if there’s a chance for a child. It’s not that he doesn’t want children, he does, he just wants to wait until things are just…right.

#mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk1 #mortal kombat #sub zero x reader #bi han #bi han x reader #sub zero

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siriuslynettey · 4 months ago

Text

See Previous Chapter Here!

PLATINUM

[The Lost Pater]

Precautions

[Chapter 3]

Remus sat with the 3 children in silence, the only sound to be heard was the fast, heavy breathing of the trembling kids. Their breath was cold and foggy until the windows started to slowly defrost, revealing the foggy, bleak weather outside.

“Are they gone?” Ophelia asked in a whisper, still clutching onto Salem. Remus didn’t reply, his eyes staying on the door, with one arm reaching behind him, gently holding his daughter's arm.

“Apologies for the interruption folks, the undocumented extra passenger was a younger sibling of a student. All is taken care of.” A voice over the intercom spoke, allowing everyone to release the breath they hadn’t realised they were holding in.

Remus scoffed and shook his head, but took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Bloody ‘ell.” Gallagher wiped his forehead in relief. “Sending dementors in because of an extra child, Sirius Black escaping has people going mad!” He exclaimed. Remus winced at the familiar name being spoken.

With a couple of loud bangs and screeches, the train began to move again and the demonters that were swarming the train became hard to see as they moved farther away.

“Do you want me to stay?” Remus whispered to his daughter. Ophelia was still in shock, going in and out of blank stares. She went from learning about a loose prisoner from Azkaban, to thinking he was on the train, to seeing a dementor for the first time. She glanced at Jas and Gallagher, who were looking out the window at the distant dementors, although she was still shaken up, she didn’t want Jas or Gallagher to feel uncomfortable if her father was sitting with them for the rest of the train ride.

“I think I’ll be okay,” She replied back in a whisper. Remus nodded and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“I suspect we’ll be there in an hour or so, I think you three should, uh, stay in here, unless it’s an emergency.” He said, standing up and straightening out his suit. “I’m three compartments down to the left, if you need me.” He gave Ophelia one last look before exiting the compartment and closing the door.

“He does seem cool.” Gallagher noted while petting his rat.

“I hadn’t realised that dementors were that serious, scary, sure, but I’ve never seen one in person like that.” Jas expressed. “And he just shooed them away, like it was nothing. Makes sense why he’s a Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher.”

“So the dementors are looking for this prisoner, but they’re surrounding and coming aboard the train, so they think Sirius Black is trying to get on the train…why would he do that?” Ophelia inquired.

“With his last name, he definitely went to Hogwarts. Maybe his revenge lies there.” Gallagher suggested. Both girls chuckled at his statement that was, yet again, hilariously eerie.

“You know, if you hadn’t told me your parents were doomsdayers…I still would have guessed your parents were doomsdayers.” Jas told him. “In a good way.”

The train arrived at Hogwarts, and after a long wait of teens filing out of the train, they were being separated by school year.Since none of them said goodbye, Jas, Gallagher, and Ophelia stayed close as they tried to find where first years were supposed to group together. Remus exited the train, briefcase in hand and gave Ophelia a smile and a nod of the head, making sure she was headed in the right direction, before walking off.

A large bearded man with a booming voice stood near the end of the platform, waving his hand.

“First years this way! First years over ‘ere, gather ‘round!”

The three kids pushed their way through the taller kids and made their way to the man. Once she was closer to him, Ophelia got a better look at the man, in awe of his height. The man, in between his directions to the new students, made eye contact with Ophelia, causing him to do a double take. His talking stopped for a moment as he looked at the girl. Ophelia quickly looked away.

“O-over ‘ere first years! First years over here!” The man went back to calling out.

After introducing himself as a man called Hagrid, he gave the children an overview of their arrival at the castle. The group of children all climbed into torch-lit boats, and travelled across The Blake Lake. All the kids were shivering because of the coldness in the air, but also so in awe of the beautiful castle in front of them, they quickly forgot about the cold temperatures.

Upon entering Hogwarts they were directed to stand in front of two very large doors, that lead to The Great Hall. Ophelia, Jas, and Gallagher all stood in the middle of the crowd together.

“We’re going to be sorted, in front of everyone.” Gallagher whispered to the girls.

“What are you guys hoping for?” Jas asked the other two.

“I don’t know anything about them. Which one are you hoping for?” Opehlia responded, twiddling with her fingers out of anxiety.

“Anything but Slytherin, I don’t need to be sharing a dormitory with those freaks from the train.” Jas replied, nodding towards the group of bullies they encountered on the train.

“I second that.” Gallagher added.

The children were introduced to Professor McGonagall, who explained the sorting ceremony to them. They then entered The Great Hall, all the upperclasman’s heads turned to them, which caused Ophelia anxiety to heighten.

Professor McGonagall started to call out names in alphabetical order of last name when the ceremony began, with each letter than went by, she felt her body become more and more numb.

“Gallagher Hollis!” Jas and Ophelia turned towards Gallagher and watched him as he nervously walked up to the chair where the sorting hat would be placed on his head.

The sorting hat started to quietly mumble once it was situated on Gallgher before screaming out his house placement.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The table that sat under the Gryffindor banner erupted in cheers as Gallagher made his way toward the table, not without giving Jas and Ophelia a smile.

“Gryffindor is a good one for him, he’ll fit in there,” Jas whispered to Ophelia. “I’m hoping for Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.” Professor McGonagall started reading off names again.

“Acacia Kincaid!”

The girl from the train who was harassing Gallagher pridefully walked up to the chair and sat down. The hat began to mumble again and the face imprinted on the hat scrunched and frowned as it decided.

“SLYTHERIN!” It screamed out, the Slytherin table chanted loudly.

“Shocker” Jas murmured to Ophelia, making both of them laugh.

“Judas Kincaid!” The boy from the train then walked up.

“Ugh, they’re twins!” Ophelia said to Jas after connecting the dots.

“Of course they are. What do you want to bet their parents were death eaters?…who else would name their kid Judas.” Ophelia was confused by her response, she had never heard the phrase “death eater”, but figured, by the name, that it wasn’t a good thing.

“Jasmine Lemayian!”

She gave Ophelia one last look before making her way through the crowd. The hat began its mumbling, raising its eyebrows repeatedly.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Ophelia clapped along with the Gryffindor table, as Jas went and sat next to Gallagher. Her hands started to shiver even more while other surnames beginning in ‘L’ were called off.

“Niamh Long!” Ophelia took a deep breath.

“Ronan Lumoskin!” Another deep breath.

“Fionn Luncrest!” And another.

“Ophelia Lupin!” Her stomach turned in complete fear. For a split second, her legs, which felt like jelly, wouldn’t move until she forcefully walked up to the chair. She glanced over at the professors’ table, making eye contact with Remus. He winked at her and gave her a hidden thumbs up, as a reassuring motion. The sorting hat, which was much lighter than she expected, was placed on her head.

“Hmm, tricky. I see a heart that's trembling, yes, but with a core of steel. Plenty of intellect, I detect—your mind is sharp, much like a Ravenclaw’s, always seeking, always probing. And there’s a drive, a desire to achieve, not unlike a Slytherin’s own ambition. But where to place you?

Slytherin?” Ophelia's heart stopped.

“Greatness could be yours with their guidance, a sure path to success…Ravenclaw might seem fitting, with your thirst for knowledge. Their realm of wisdom could be your home…honour shines through you…a bold heart and mind…maybe a bit too much speaking without thinking…better be…

GRYFFINDOR!” Ophelia took a deep sigh of relief, though she didn’t know if she would thrive in Gryffindor, she did know Jas and Gallagher, which meant that she already had friends in her house, but that the house had to be full of good people for them to be sorted into it. She sat down in between the two as the Gryffindor table cheered for her.

More names were called, each table getting more chances to cheer and shout. Ophelia to the time to admire the beauty of the great hall, the tallness of the ceiling, the beautifulness of the floating candles.

Her eyes then met another. Remus, showing great proudness in his daughter through his eyes, which were already looking at Ophelia. She gave him an excited wave which he returned with a smile and a loving wave. Once all the first years had been sorted, their empty plates soon filled with more food than Ophelia had ever seen on one plate before. The students began to shove their mouths full and speak amongst each other.

Above them, different ghosts flew in the air, some overlooking the room, others speaking with students and professors. One of the ghosts overlooking the Gryffindor table was a young woman (as young as a ghost could be) who donned a beautiful white dress with lace and a baggy pea coat over it. A permanent smile appeared upon her face. She made her way towards the section of the table where Jas, Ophelia, and Gallagher sat.

“Enjoying the food?” She asked the three.

“Yes, very much.” Gallgher replied with his mouth of chicken

“It’s great. How’s yours?” Jas’s eyes widened in embarrassment. “Er..I mean..did you…nevermind.” The ghost chuckled. “No worries, I sometimes forget I’m a ghost as well.” Jas spat out another ‘sorry’. “And Ophelia? Are you enjoying the food?” Ophelia quickly put her fork down, not anticipating the ghost to know her name. “Oh, It’s really good. Thanks for asking.” She replied. “I’m Aurora, the Gryffindor House Ghost, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” “Were you a student at Hogwarts?” “Yes, a long, long time ago.” She had a sweet smile on her face as she talked to the children . “Well, I’ll let you three finish your dinner, I hope you all enjoy your school year.” Once they all finished their food (though they could have eaten more, despite feeling very full), Dumbeldore stepped to his podium to speak. He welcomed the new students and welcomed back the old one before he started to talk about the differences of this school year. “I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Good luck to you, Professor.” Remus stood up and gave an awkward bow, he looked like he wanted the attention to be anywhere but on him. Ophelia cheered and clapped loudly for her father. Jas and Gallgher joined in cheering loudly for the man who jumped to help them on the train. Professor Dumbeldore continued his speech .

“Finally, on a more disquieting note, Hogwarts, at the request of the Ministry of Magic, will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban. The Dementors will be stationed at the entrances to the grounds. While they are under strict orders not to enter the castle itself, you will on occasion see them as you go about your daily activities. Under no circumstances are you to approach them. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving.” “They’re going to be at the castle too? ” Ophelia whispered, complaining to Jas, not wanting to run into a dementor again. “I’m telling you, he has unfinished business, and it’s here in Hogwarts!” Gallagher turned around to exclaim to Jas and Ophelia. Professor

Dumbledore finished his introductory speech and sent the children to bed. The Gryffindor head girl led all the Gryffindors to their new dormitory. “He could be lurking around right now…watching us…waiting until we’re asleep to attack.” Gallagher narrated in a low tone. “I think you’re making it scarier than it needs to be…he’s probably enjoying his newly free life right now and we’re up in arms for no reason.” Ophelia chuckled, she wondered if her words were an attempt to convince herself the situation was not serious. “Yeah, you’re right…but it’s more fun to pretend we’re all in danger.” Gallagher replied, which caused Ophelia and Jas to laugh. “That’s definitely a normal thing to say.” Jas joked. They continued to be led down the halls of the school, taking in their home for the school year. A hand grabbed Ophelia’s shoulder, causing her to jump and quietly gasp, which caused Jas and Gallagher to jump. Ophelia's fear left her when she looked up to see Remus. “Dad,” She stopped to hug him, all the other kids continuing to walk. She looked to Jas and Gallagher, nodding at them as a way to tell them to keep walking with the group. “Are you having fun? Feeling good?” He whispered to his daughter as he pulled her aside. “Yes, we’re going to our dorms right now.” She replied, a little worried that she would be left behind. “I needed to talk to you,” Remus started, bending down to his daughter's height. “I know you were a bit shaken up by what happened on the train and I don’t want to make you scared anymore, but you do need to be cautious. It shou-.” “But should I be scared? Why would Sirius Black come to the castle?” Ophelia cut him off, his persistent cautions started to make her more scared. “Is that why you were so worried this morning? Why didn’t you just tell me it was because of Sirius Black?” “He is a prisoner on the loose, there is a reason Dumbeldore has these precautions in place. Since you now know, I didn’t want you to be scared, but I also want you to take the precautions seriously. So please be careful.” He said in a stern, but sympathetic voice.

“Is he after you? Did you know him? Is he after me?” “No. no. We don’t know what he’s after and you shouldn’t worry about that. As long as you and your friends follow the rules, everything will be alright.” “Okay, I promise I will.” Ophelia ended her slight stubbornness and looked towards the end of the group of Gryffindors walking away from them. “I should get going, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Alright, I love you, see you in class tomorrow.” Remus pulled away from the hug he gave his daughter and smiled. “Love you, see you in class, Professor Lupin.”

Ophelia ran towards the group, then weaved through to catch up to Jas and Gallagher. “What did your dad want?’’ Jas inquired once she caught up to them. “Did he say anything about Sirius Black?” Gallgher leaned over Jas to ask. “Yeah, he said he didn’t know him or what he’s after…but I think he’s lying.”

See Next Chapter Here!

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vigilskeep · 3 months ago

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you've talked a bit about sol's relationship with lucanis, bellara, and davrin, but what are sol's thoughts on the other companions?

neve looked at sol and saw a cute slightly over-energetic puppy that somebody else owns and that it’s always fun to hang out with and make run after sticks. briefly, mind you, before going home and leaving it someone else’s problem. whereas sol was eager to melt neve’s ice walls and win her approval with sheer persistence. all of that went away for a while when sol chose treviso. it was hard to recover from that because sol had no regret for their choice, nor did they believe neve would have any regrets if she had been in the position to choose minrathous, and that was a wedge of silence between them. both aware, both not cruel enough to say everything out loud. it took a while to defrost, with bellara anxiously hovering inbetween them. ultimately they have a strong bond and sol probably respects neve more than anybody else on the team, but as friends, neve is more lucanis and bellara’s than she is sol’s, if that makes sense? sol finally showing up for minrathous and them fighting for it side by side in the end was everything to me

i was never quite sure where they stood with harding until the end, i think it requires further thought. sol wasn’t all that close with harding before the game, when they had varric inbetween. mostly they thought it was funny to play up the antivan crow and scandalise the comparatively more normal straight-laced member of the party. they have a lot of respect for her skillset because they’re accustomed to working with rogues, whereas interpersonally they didn’t know how much they relied on and valued her warmth and stabilising influence until they lost it. they didn’t really understand her all that much, i don’t think? which is funny when lucanis is over here like immediately clocking exactly what childhood trauma led to all her behaviours, but then lucanis is so much more empathetic than sol is

taash is kind of the little sibling sol never had. sol, stretching their arm all the way up to put it around taash’s shoulders: “ah yes, my honorary crow young padawan in the ways of being non-binary and setting things on fire”. sol is a mostly harmlessly terrible influence on them, always telling them to be more rebellious and to feel things fully. taash probably got the worst of the ending, and sol won’t forgive themself for that

emmrich is an endlessly entertaining curiosity who comes from an entirely different world to sol. they’re not that close, but they fascinate each other and always want to hear each other’s stories. something about the work of the necropolis emotionally touches sol—who always expected to die young, unnaturally, and unremembered, and whose profession is giving that same fate to others—in a way little else does. (even if they find the necropolis itself slightly infuriating to do quests in. professor, you’re just too nice to these spirits and it gives them far too much nerve.) i imagine emmrich saying they could be interred in the necropolis if they wished and sol definitely not crying, there’s just something in their eye, they have to go

#veilguard spoilers #sol de riva

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storiesofsvu · 6 months ago

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Rita Calhoun 50 OTP Q's Pt. 2

Rita Calhoun x fem!reader no major warnings. pt 2 a pretty quick follow up of pt 1 as it's just some hc's and not a full fic lol. Send your req's in here for more fun!

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food? You both have a good balance of both. Rita really enjoys her sweet treats, but she doesn’t go overboard on them. She prefers to order groceries from whole foods while you don’t care where they come from as long as its edible. She does rely on take out a lot, but it’s from healthier places, salads, sandwiches, rice or noodle bowls, acai bowls, salmon or chicken and rice with veggies. You’ve even found her some nights with delivery from restaurants that don’t even offer it and all she’s said is “I know a guy…”. You’re the one more likely to indulge in the greasy pizza, overloaded Chinese food or mcdonalds.

27. Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower? Rita’s everything shower is over an hour long every single time. You cannot tell me that woman doesn’t have a like 20 fucking step routine between skincare, haircare, dry brushing, etc. It’s also one of the times during the day that she uses to relax, some candles, a nice soft playlist to help her wind down. You’re the one that sings in the shower, though you only try to do it in the mornings she’s already gone for the day in the hopes to not be overheard.

28. Who is the book worm? Rita, absolutely hands down. She’s *obsessed* with books and on weekend shopping days will ALWAYS be dragging you into bookstores, especially antique or second hand ones. She’s usually got multiple on the go at once, a couple of fiction with different genres, and a couple of non fiction.

29. Who is the better cook? We all know it’s going to be you. It doesn’t matter if you’re not that great. Rita can’t even defrost an Uncrustable properly.

30. Who likes long walks on the beach? Gonna go with both of you. You don’t care what kind of beach it is, you enjoy the company, feeling the sand in your toes, the water on your feet, best way to end the day. Rita prefers the walking paths/sidewalks down by the beach so she doesn’t have to deal with the sand.

31. Who is more affectionate? Overall, and physically, you. You’re always telling her how much you love her, and are eager to have a hand or arm linked with hers while walking around outside. You’re more likely to be the one stealing a kiss or showing off PDA. It’s in the privacy of your home that Rita goes overboard with her affection. She shows it by physical touch and gifts mainly. Her hands tracing patterns on your legs while they’re strewn over her lap on the couch, she often catches herself watching you with a dreamy smile on her face because of how much she loves you and how much she can’t believe how well you take care of her.

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation? This one’s definitely going to Rita. She can talk for hours on end about those deep philosophical conversations that go on far too late into the night. She always enjoys expanding her mind and self educating herself on various topics and loves spending time looking things up and debating back and fourth with friends.

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt? Hear me out, this was Rita and Rafael in their Harvard days. I’ll let you decide who’s wearing which one lol.

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt? You’re definitely wearing the lost one, Rita’s the much more sober and collected one, gently guiding you to the car at the end of the night.

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays? Rita. She never means to, you’ve likely set limits for prices of presents and she almost always accidentally exceeds it. She never cared much for holidays, thinking they were overrated and never bothered to decorate her home or office when she was single and working all the time. But there’s something about seeing the way your eyes sparkle in the Christmas lights that she has a team fully decking out the entire apartment every single year because she knows you love it. (she does always make sure they leave the tree bare as that’s been made into a tradition the two of you do together.)

36. Who is the social media addict? You. Rita is not chronically online. The apps on her phone are much more likely to be various news ones. She likely has twitter and uses it more as a work reference and again, to keep up on current events and news. I DO like to believe that she has a (likely private) Instagram (and we’re gonna ignore the timeline of when insta became a thing/her age for this hc lol). And she’s been posting on it since college, fancy parties, yacht trips out in the hamptons, semi spicy bikini or dress pics, it’s incredibly aesthetic and she thrives to keep the vibe going. She’s got a fuck ton of followers and is like, lowkey Instagram famous, but most of the posts don’t actually include her face, especially as she got older and more concerned with her professional image.

37. Height difference or age difference? Didn’t we already do height? Lol. Age wise, Rita’s usually older. She focused on school and work and didn’t want to waste time dating when she was younger. Now that she’s established most people closer to her age are already married with kids. She doesn’t have any issues dating younger, as long as her partner has their shit together and has some ambition and goals when it comes to life. She cant deal with someone who has no motivation and just lounges around all day.

38. Who likes to star gaze? This is more leaning towards you. You like to take a moment during each day to appreciate the little things, like this, and say a silent thank you to the world for making such beautiful things. She doesn’t really think about it until you’re out of the skyscrapers of the city, sometimes out in the hampton’s, sometimes it’s a more tropical vacation that she can really see the night sky and there’s no place she’d rather be than on a cozy blanket showing you constellations.

39. Who buys cereal for the prize inside? Absolutely you! Which Rita will lovingly tease you about, especially if there is a collection of toys and you continue to buy boxes until you have the entire set. (and naturally you never actually eat the cereal..)

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent? If it came to actual parenting, I think Rita would be a mix of both, but much heavier leaning toward the responsible one. But she’s not having kids, so she’s always going to be the super fun rich af Aunt. She doesn’t do well with the younger kids, but once they’re about 16/17 she can have actual conversations with them, and she’ll be the one sneaking them booze and inviting them out to the hampton’s and letting them (semi responsibly) party on the yacht. She’s obviously the one you’d want to call when you’re in trouble considering her job and she’s also the one that’s never going to whisper a word to either of your parents. She’ll take those secrets to the grave. And she’s also very capable of intimidating the fuck out of bullies or ex boyfriends. She will threaten them with jail time.

41. Who cries during sad movies? Both of you. Rita’s a fucking sap so she cries at the romantic movies, you’re more likely the one to cry over the animals.

42. Who is the neat freak? I don’t particularly think Rita’s a neat *freak* but she has everything in its spot and knows where her things are 99.9% of the time. She’s organized, collected, tidy, her kitchen’s always clean cause she never cooks lol. And she likely has a cleaning service come to her apartment weekly to help with that kinda stuff.

43. Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one? You’re shocked Rita even agreed to go to the carnival with you and you’ve promised to win her one as a thank you. While she does have fun, indulges in plenty of food she never would have touched otherwise, and obviously pays for you to play all the stupid, nearly impossible to win games, it’s the giant smile on your face as you turn to her with a lime neon green giant monkey that makes her the happiest. If it had been some random gift from a first date it would have gone in the trash right away, but because it's from you and you worked so hard to win it he gets a name by the time you’re home and either lives on a stool in the walk in closet or has taken up residency in the guest room. (it’s his room now)

44. Who is active/ Who is lazy? You like to get a daily workout in, something as small as a walk around the block on slower days up to a class at the gym or some heavy lifting on days you’re more ambitious. Rita always makes sure to not be too sedentary, especially with an office job. She enjoys the more streamlined workouts, Pilates or yoga, things that she can do in the privacy of her living room and not have to leave the house for on colder days. She doesn’t particularly enjoy running, but will do it when she starts to feel a little too stiff and immobile. On the other hand, she truly enjoys your post dinner walks through the park, hand in hand as you share little stories.

45. Who is more likely to get drunk? Absolutely you. Rita will indulge in a drink or two with dinner, a cocktail or two out at the bar, but she doesn’t go much passed that. She doesn’t like to be out of control of herself, especially out in public. She has been known to finish a bottle of wine or two while at the apartment, and definitely gets a little silly, laughing harder and longer than she normally does.

46. Who has the longer food order? This is weird. Lol. I’m gonna go with Rita because she likely hasn’t eaten since breakfast and thus is more hungry, opting for an app or two and a full course meal while you’re fine with just a burger.

47. Who has the more complex coffee order? Rita. While it’s pretty simple at home, if she’s out and there’s a fancier option, she’s indulging. She probably has some sort of self made up special combination of different drinks. You’d think the barista’s would hate her for it but they all know her by name and have nicknamed the drink ‘The Calhoun’ so it has its own priced button in the computer and sticker label with all the steps for newer staff. (not to mention she tips incredibly on the daily)

48. Who loses stuff? You.

49. Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger? You’re always the driver if you’re not in a cab/car service. While Rita does know how to drive, she simply doesn’t. I could definitely see her having gotten her licence back in the day and never using it, thus letting it expire. She’s a passenger princess through and through.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic? Rita. That bitch is a cold hearted shark who scares or at least intimidates 90 % of the people she comes across in her workday/life but she has this completely other side to her with the people she trusts and loves. She’s the softest, most gentle, caring, tender person who will always put her love first and take every opportunity to show it.

________________________

@hbkpop @mickey-gomez @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @altsvu @svulife-rl rl @svushots @wannabe-fic-reader @bumblebear30 @alexbllake @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @dead-of-niight @multifandomlesbianic @dxtery @momlifebehard @poisonedcrowns @when-wolves-howl @godard-muse @itisdoctortoyousir @httpjupiterbby @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @evilregal2002 @dextur @disneyfan624 @svushots @happenstnces @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @valentinesfrog @noahrex @wittygutsy @chimnlex @i-lovefandom @ralla-ralla @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts

#rita calhoun #rita calhoun x reader #law and order svu #svu #law and order #rita calhoun x fem!reader #rita calhoun headcanons

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autisticer-tim-drake · 7 months ago

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This man. Timothy.

He talks in two episodes of the 2012 teenage mutant ninja turtles run.

I would kill for him.

The entire first episode he’s in they’re just making fun of him for trying to help people basically in the exact same way Casey Jones was when they met him.

The second episode they’re still using him as a punchline, then they douse him in mutagen and he doesn’t become some cool hybrid villain, he becomes mutagen man, almost gets blown up, then gets frozen solid.

Donatello basically vows then and there to make a retromutagen and save Timothy.

Timothy was Donatello’s fucking motive to making a retromutagen in the first place. Granted, he’d already been working on one, but I guarantee that this was way more of a motivator.

When they leave to go to April’s family’s house they leave him behind and Donatello says something about how he’ll defrost eventually.

So we know that Timothy was Donatello’s like, priority when it comes to the retromutagen and that it’s possible to unfreeze him.

So why in GODS GREEN EARTH did Donatello, upon finishing the retromutagen, give some to April’s dad

AND OFFER THE REST TO SPLINTER

WHO DIDNT EVEN FUCKING WANT TO BE HUMAN AGAIN

AND MY BOY TIMOTHY WAS LITERALLY IN THE BACKGROUND OF SOME OF THESE SCENES BECAUSE HE BASICALLY BECAME SET DRESSING AFTER HE WAS FROZEN

#glup shitto #justice for Timothy #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #pulverizer tmnt #I screamed at my television for hours #mutagen man

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jacobsbigmelons · 2 years ago

Note

If you don't mind and don't find it too silly... Can I request late night cuddle in a cold night with Jacob or perhaps Dylan? Thank you!

no request is too silly! i gotchu anon! 💪🏼‼️

bro (passionately)

Jacob Custos x male reader

Fluff, jacob being sweet? yes pls. a jock who doesn’t think two boys doing something slightly intimate is bad? sign me up

A cold breeze made it’s way onto your body as you tried to figure out where exactly it was coming from, you examined the window next to you but there wasn’t any openings, it couldn’t have been the window on the other side of the cabin because the wind was coming on your left. So just where exactly was this irritating breeze coming from? No matter how much you scooted away from the small yet mighty breeze you couldn’t help but shiver.

At least that’s when you heard the small muttering above you, it was Jacob. Your eyes lit up slightly when you figured out he was awake, why? Who knows. You shifted your legs off the bunk bed as your feet touched the rather smooth wooden floors “Why’re you up?” you spoke softly as Jacob responded almost immediately.

“Cant get comfortable, and if I take my shirt off i’m cold so i’m kind of in a dilemma here” he said as the soft fabric of his big sweater rubbed against the mattress that held Jacob. “Well i’m cold so you should let me rent some of your warmth” you spoke pretty casually, even if you were putting on this nonchalant facade. Jacob scoffed as he heard your request, “Why would I let you steal what little body heat I have?” he questioned. “Dumbass, I said rent, no one’s stealing anything” you said with a slight giggle.

“Well if you’re renting than what’s my payment?” At this point he was peeking down from his bunk, even if all he saw was your legs over the edge of the bed. “uh…” the room went quiet for a bit before you coughed to clear your throat for this very important moment. “pop pop peanut butter butter pops…pop pop pop ‘em in your mouth POP.” You singsonged while trying not to be too loud. “You’re fucking with me dude, no way you have peanut butter fucking butter pops with you!” his voice in a playful demanding tone.

“Oh but I do.” A bag crackle behind your bed made it all clear to him “Well why didn’t you start with that?! Get up here dude.” Your body slightly shuddered at the thought you would be able to finally get to cuddle up to your summer crush. Jacob moved to give you some room as you maneuvered around the small mattress, very much designed for only one person.

He moved his hands around your arms as he placed them around his body, every aspect of him had some form of warmth that you couldn’t help but muzzle up against. “Fuck dude you are cold, you don’t have anything warmer than this?” You peeked down at your hoodie which was rather thin despite how warm it looks on the outside. “Well, it should’ve helped but it didn’t so…no, apart from other hoodies but they’re all this thin so-“ You shrugged as you hid your face in Jacobs back as if he was somehow able to see the disturbing amount of blush on your face.

Jacob pulled your sleeves up as he rubbed his hands over your arms in order to warm them up a bit, he even took one of your hands to his mouth as he blew warm hair on them to help the heating process. “It’s like i’m defrosting an ice human” Jacob teased with a giggle as he let go of your hand and returned it back down to wrap around his waist again. Your breathing became more patterned, the warmth making your eyelids more heavy as you try to fight the groggy feeling.

“You’re quiet” he obviously stated, slightly turning his head as if he wanted to look at you despite it being practically pitch black. “I’m sleeping up here… ‘kay?” Your voice became more sluggish and muffled even if it was because you were talking into his back. “Hey man, rest up.” Jacob said as he was rubbing your hand, an unconscious decision but one he didn’t seem to want to stop.

Eventually as time passed, sleep found it’s way to you as you passed out with Jacob right in front of you. As morning came you were practically on fire when someway, somehow during the night, he shifted his way to where he was facing you as you laid on his chest and you felt his hand in your hair. You discreetly put your own hand in his hair before submitting to sleep once more before it was time to actually wake up.

a/n:hope this was acceptable anon 🖤

#jacob custos #the quarry #jacob custos my fucking beloved #jacob custos x male reader #jacob custos x reader #the quarry jacob #the quarry jacob custos #x male reader #x reader

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https-hunter · 2 months ago

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I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT THE WICKED MOVIE ‼️‼️

Spoilers below the cut 💚💗

- what do you mean it was nearly three hours long. it really did go by fast like people said

- not even a thought but um. I cried three times. Once when Ariana started singing because you can feel Glinda’s emotion as she held back her grief, another because I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing this movie, and another when Elphaba started flying at the end

- I’ve had like. a thing for fiyero since the age of 12. I do not know how to describe it but this movie made it worse

- LITTLE ELPHIE AND NESSA MY HEARTTT

- The bear who raised her?? It was so sweet that she had someone to truly care for her. Like yeah she had Nessarose, but that love is very conditional. The fact that she had someone in her corner 🥲

- The ozdust scene,,Elphaba crying when she and Glinda danced together because she’s never had a friend before. Ough that hit

- Elphaba and fiyero elphaba and fiyero elphaba and fiyero elphaba and fiyero el-

- I’m not okay thinking about them

- Yes I love gelphie but they’re like crack to me

- The shot at the end where he’s seen taking his horse out of shiz. What was that. Why did they show that. It has to be important. JON CHU WHEN I CATCH YOU

- Also bi Fiyero was sooo real. That guy was flirting with anyone with a pulse and that was very in character for him.

- Not important but when Boq said “I cry a lot” I turned to my mom and went “he’s just like me”

- The Idina and Kristin cameos were my spiderverse

- Big fan of the Grimmerie lore. It doesn’t get that deep in the stage musical so I’m glad that casual fans can know more

- Like, this tells us that the wizard *became* the wizard because he lied about being able to read it. And no one knows until Elphaba does it. It just goes even further to show how much of a fraud he is

- Popular was so much fun omg. Ariana’s use of comedy was a delight

- When Elphaba was falling from the building and saw her younger self. I’ve been unpacking my inner child lately so that one hit me in my heart

- I know that Elphaba is supposed to be relatable, but she’s specifically relatable to *me*. Always has been and remains that way

- At the end when Elphaba causes Emerald City to black out. That girl is forcing these people who have abused or brushed her aside to listen to her. Truly a powerful moment

- Just, generally the casting was amazing. All of the theatre people. It was everything I could hope for in this movie

- On the drive home, I told my mom that this movie would be rotating in my mind like a chicken on defrost in a microwave. And I mean it. I need to see it again

#spectacular give me 14 of them right now #my middle school hyperfix came back STRONG tonight #I’m not normal about this movie but idc #it’s been my fav musical for nine years. I’ve been seated for this since 2015 #wicked #wicked spoilers #wicked the musical #wicked 2024 #wicked part 1

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catboymettaton · 24 days ago

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hell is the Kroger produce aisle

2k words, rated G, inspired by a post from @kiyomitakada

L goes grocery shopping alone for the first time and immediately gets overwhelmed. Light, a sympathetic employee, helps him out. Can be read as platonic or romantic

read on ao3 or below

L shuts his eyes and hopes that when he opens them, everything will go back to how it’s supposed to be.

He’s been doing so well. It’s been four days since Watari left and in that time he has taken three showers, eaten nine meals, and left his house twice. He even managed to take the bus all the way here! The city bus, with all its noises and rude people.

He’s been doing a good job of being independent. He’s been doing a good job of demonstrating that he’ll one day be able to move out on his own.

But the bus was so loud, and he forgot sunglasses (he forgot the sun exists, honestly), and the inside of Kroger is so, so bright, and it’s playing music that chafes at his ears, and his mask isn’t doing enough to block the smells and what it is doing is blowing his own hot breath back at him, and people keep bumping into him with their carts.

Dimly, he realizes this is his fault, for standing in the middle of the aisle. But he can’t figure out how to proceed. He is locked here, in front of the apples that should be strawberries.

Watari was nervous about leaving him, even though it was just for a week. L insisted he could handle it, as long as they worked together to prepare. This included Watari drawing up a detailed map of Kroger, so that L would know exactly where to find anything he needed.

(The downside of strawberries is that they go bad so fast. Watari picked up enough of everything else to last him the whole week, but his strawberries would inevitably betray him within four days.)

(The upside of strawberries is that they are fresh and juicy and delicious.)

So here he is, stranded in the center of the produce aisle, as children screech around him and the pop singer keeps crooning about how much she loves or doesn’t love this new man, and his breath is tickling his nose, and the fluorescent lights bear down on him and this really shouldn’t bother him because he spends all his days with computers he’s used to bright lights in his eyes but somehow this is different, and no matter how long he stares the honey crisps refuse to morph into anything else.

Maybe he should just go home now. Maybe he should admit he failed and go home without his precious fresh strawberries and defrost the frozen strawberries he keeps in case of emergency but he saves them for emergencies because they’re never as good as the real thing, they always heat up either too cold or too hot and the texture isn’t right and they don’t have the leaves attached and the taste is all wrong. The last time he had to eat them was during a snowstorm that left ice on the streets so bad that even Watari couldn’t bear the drive, and then Watari was there to help him deal with the wrong texture and stop him from slipping away into one of his states where the numbers swim before his eyes and his tongue grows thick in his mouth and something under his skin screams at him to please just let it out.

The something under his skin is here now, calling to him from his wrists and his calves and the back of his neck, and he won’t let it out, he won’t let it out here in front of everyone, he’s twenty-four years old for god’s sake, he can handle buying groceries like a normal person!

But what he needs is strawberries, and they aren’t here. They just aren’t here.

He can feel the top of his mask growing damp, which means his eyeliner must be ruined, and he isn’t sure how well the filter stands up to moisture so he needs to get himself together and find the damn strawberries which have to be around here somewhere, right? But when he looks up he sees a blurry rainbow of colors all melting together, and he can’t parse where one aisle stops and another starts.

“Excuse me, could I help you find anything today?”

It’s the first voice he’s heard directed at him in four days. It’s chipper and polished and carries no sense of authenticity.

He turns and finds his eyes locked onto a stranger’s, warm and brown and framed with beautiful eyelashes and honey-brown bangs. His mouth is hidden behind a blue mask that matches his Kroger apron, but L can see his smile scrunching up his eyes.

L opens his mouth, but finds words have left him. Surely this man can help him find the strawberries, but only if he can ask for it. And try as he might, he just can’t seem to ask for it.

The man glances over his shoulder. L notices his name tag says Light. And like a sunbeam breaking through storm clouds, he seems to have appeared here specifically to save L from himself and his wretched brain.

“Hey,” Light says, and suddenly his voice is softer, no longer so upbeat. “Hey, how about we step outside for a moment?”

So L follows this stranger out to the sidewalk, and Light leads him to a corner tucked away from the road. He can still hear the roar of cars, but the music is gone, and the crying children, and the light is just normal sun, and he tears off his mask to feel a breeze on his face and he breathes deeply as his ears scream in relief.

He realizes he’s rocking back and forth. He tries to stop that. He already looks like a freak, he doesn’t need to make it worse.

“Are you feeling better now?”

L finds the channel between mind and mouth is still malfunctioning. He nods, tentatively.

“I know it can be a lot in there. I get it.” L looks over at him. He seemed so calm inside, and he works there, so he must be there all the time.

Light seems to read his thoughts. “It gets easier with practice. And these help, too.” He brushes his hair away from his ear and L sees the glint of an earplug within.

L feels woefully unprepared. With his usual isolated existence, he can keep his environment at precisely the volume he desires. But if he truly wants to be able to live on his own, he’ll have to venture into spaces outside of his control.

“So what are you looking for today? I can help you find whatever you need.” A bit of the polish is back, a little bit of a wall going back up between them.

L reaches into his pocket and draws out Watari’s carefully drawn map. He points at the section marked “Strawberries.”

Light’s eyes widen in understanding. “Oh, I see! We just rearranged the produce yesterday, to switch the apples and the strawberries. Sorry for the confusion!”

L nods in thanks.

“So what else is on your list?”

It’s just strawberries. Nothing else. L is now extremely aware that normal adults do not go to the store for three pounds of strawberries and nothing else. Should he ask for milk or something too?

He doesn’t like milk.

Light notices his waffling - he’s perceptive, isn’t he? “Is it just strawberries?”

L nods.

“Oh, that’ll be super easy! Here, I can show you exactly where they are!”

He moves to head back towards the entrance and L hesitates. He’s feeling a lot better now, but he’s worried that if he heads back inside, he’ll just lock up right away again. His powers of speech still elude him.

Light notices he isn’t following, and stops. He looks into L’s eyes, then down at his teeth nibbling his lips. If he was at home, he’d be chewing his nails, but after the bus trip he’ll be dirty till he takes a good hot shower.

“You know what?” Light’s voice has lost its edge again. “If it’s just strawberries, what if I grab them for you? How many do you need?”

L holds up three fingers.

“Three… pounds?”

L nods.

“Okay! I’ll try to pick the ripest ones. Do you have cash?”

He shakes his head.

“Venmo?”

He nods.

“Wait here and I’ll be right back!”

L watches him go then allows his body to begin rocking back and forth again. There’s no one here to see. He feels his heart rate finally falling to normal, his shoulders dropping, his tongue untangling itself.

True to his word, Light is back quickly, strawberry cases in tow.

“Thank you,” L manages.

Light almost manages to hide his surprise. His eyes crinkle up in a smile again. “Of course! And by the way, we offer grocery pickup and delivery, if that would be easy for you in the future.”

“Really?” L should have thought to check the website himself, rather than relying on Watari and his fifty year old methods.

“Yes, it’s very convenient! You pick your items online and then you can come get them here, or we can take them directly to your house.”

Directly to his house…

L nods. “Thank you, that sounds very useful.” He tucks the strawberries into his tote bag and inspects the receipt. “May I repay you now?”

Light pulls up a QR code. It brings L to his profile, with a photo of Light smiling brightly. His surname is Yagami. L sends the money over, with a 25% tip for excellent service.

“I’m glad I could help you out today!”

“Thank you again. Sorry for interrupting your day.”

“No need to apologize - helping customers is my job, after all.”

L shuffles his feet awkwardly. He needs to go home and leave Light to return to work , which he’s nearly certain does not typically include personal shopping for pathetic autistic men hopelessly dependent on their grandfathers.

But he likes Light. It’s rare for him to find someone easy to talk with; he’s content to spend most of his days speaking to Watari and no one else.

And he’s nervous for the bus ride back. It’ll be loud again, and people will bump into him, and his mask will tickle his nose and yank at his ears, which is still better than getting sick but unpleasant all the same.

Light, it seems, is not in a rush to get back inside either. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

L shakes his head. “I should get going.”

“Are you sure? You look like you have something on your mind. ”

L swallows. “I’m nervous about the bus. It’s going to be loud.”

Light nods. “Wait right here.”

He’s back in less than a minute with a pair of headphones cradled in his arms, black with red details. L stares at them. Is Light really entrusting him, a total stranger, with something so valuable?

“You can borrow these for the ride. But… you should give me your number so we can find a time for you to get them back.”

L is speechless again, but now it has nothing to do with his environment. He nods, and fumbles to pull his phone out again, self conscious of the way he grips it by the corners.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Ryuzaki,” L lies. He doesn’t know why. But he can’t take it back, so he watches Light type the false name above his number. He adds a strawberry emoji at the end.

“Have a safe ride back, Ryuzaki. Let me know when you get home, okay?”

L nods again, still stunned. He’s never had someone to text when he gets home before, since Watari always knows.

He heads to the bus stop, slipping the headphones on over his mask. The pressure of the ear cups is comforting and almost makes him forget about the straps digging into his ears. They’re playing a soft static that blocks out the rush of the world around him, giving him a personal bubble of quiet amid the bustle of the city.

When he makes it back home, he snaps a picture of himself biting into a strawberry, just for Light. It’s perfectly ripe and sweet and fresh and everything he’s been hoping for.

He fires off a text to Watari:

Kroger went great, no issues. Also, I made a new friend.

#mine #my writing #l lawliet #light yagami #death note #death note fic #autism #lawlight

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