#but I think a lot of the yes manning Taylor is subjected to makes her a lil less interesting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sgt-morgan · 2 years ago

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Hey rambling Anon here again! Sorry! So I just found your Estrellita series and oh my god it’s so cute I’ll be honest and say that I usually don’t read a lot of Moonknight fics but goodness that series was so cute! So question would you ever do a crossover with Rory and Jackie being cute little friends?

Hey Steven 🎤🎵

Moonknight Masterlist

Daredevil Masterlist

Summary: Steven and Matt are subjected to a night out with their best girls. Karaoke ensues and we explore the friendship between Robin and Moonknights wife and their children Jackie and Aurora.

Warnings: AFAB! Female identifying reader. Alchohol use. It’s a fluff piece.

A/N: finally giving this ask what it deserves.

You needed to go out, and Steven was more than happy to oblige. You had spent months caring for your daughters, and Steven was worried that you were going stir crazy. The others didn’t see a problem, stating that you were just focusing on your little family, but by the fourth time they found you watching Peppa Pig (Bluey they could understand, but Peppa Pig? Jesus…) by yourself they decided you needed adult interaction. So, a night out was declared, and who better to spend it with than another set of vigilante parents. Steven loved hanging out with Matt Murdock and his chaotic wife Robin. Steven enjoyed Matt’s company, as he was an intellectually inclined person who he could very happily talk shop with. The others liked Matt, but they counted him as Steven’s friend.

You and Robin got on like a house on fire. Robin for you was a godsend. The other newly minted mother of two was a real hot shot, and her husband was interesting to say the least. Matt ‘Daredevil’ Murdock was a good man, and a good friend and as the only fathers in the group of New York based vigilantes, he was a fast friend to the Moonknight system. You talked once a week, and you were constantly stopping in on each other for play dates and to trade supplies. Jake liked to joke that you both ran the black market of formula and diapers. Your group chat quickly being dubbed ‘Los narcos de los biberones.’ Both of your husbands were relieved you had someone to relate to, calling each other about balancing Motherhood and your husbands nightly duties. It was good to have friends who were in similar situations as your own, and your kids got on phenomenally. Many a play date had been set up between the children resulting in more or less hair pulling-ly frustrating shenanigans, but the girls were so fond of each other they couldn’t help but excuse their antics.

Rory and Jackie were trouble of the highest order. The girls were constantly getting into trouble, when they were together, prepare for trouble and make it double, they were nothing if not their father’s daughters, and their ability to find trouble knew no bounds, including at about seven months into your pregnancy, finding a kitten.

“Mummy? I found somefing!” Rory squealed. She seemed to be picking up on Steven’s accent lately, it was quite adorable.

“Look Ms Knight, we got a kitty!”

Squealed Jackie, nearly shoving the kitten into your hands. Robin laughed and you closed your eyes in absolute bafflement. How in the fuck did they find a cat.

“Do you think daddy will let us keep it!?” Jackie pleaded with her mother, and Robin barked out a laugh.

“Negative Ghost Rider, the Batcave is full.” Robin says, picking the kitten up by the scruff and examining it for fleas.

“Mummy? Will Papí let us keep it? He loves Gato, we can have another!” Rory tried to persuade you, bringing up Jake’s fascination with feeding the stray cat that lives on your fire escape.

“Yes baby, he does like Gato, but she is an outdoor kitty, mommy is allergic, it will make me sick.” You sigh, stroking your belly and bringing Robin a cardboard box to keep the kitten in.

“Alright wonder twins, we’re there any more?” Robin smiled, pulling both girls in for a hug.

“I don’t know mommy, we found her on the fire escape.” Robin gasped and looked at her daughter in horror.

“Were you on the fire escape!?” She nearly shouted.

“No, we just opened the window and offered her a pizza roll.” Jackie shrugged.

“Oh my god.” You laughed as Robin nearly choked to death .

“My god?” Robin nearly strangled herself with her water attempting not to spit it out while laughing. “You’re totally my kid.”

You ushered the girls towards the kitchen sink to wash hands and gave Robin an incredulous look and mouthed ‘With Pizza rolls!?’ She laughed and mouthed back ‘I know!?’

“So what do we do with Pawbert Batinson?” Robin sighed, stroking the kitten between the ears.

“Well I guess we find out if there’s- did you just say Pawbert Battinson?” You cackled looking at Robin like she was a crazy person.

“Yeah, black cat, sticking with the Batman theme, you’re the Ivy to My Harley, Battinson seemed like a good name, Bats for short.” She shrugged as if any of that made any type of logical sense and you sighed.

“Well first we gotta find out if there are any more cats.”

Turns out there were seven, and they all left with appropriate Batman themed names. From that day on you and Robin were inseparable, until you gave birth that is.

You had given birth about three months ago, where as Robin had her second baby seven months ago. It was Robin’s idea to take everyone out, saying quote, ‘she didn’t want her best friend to become as mummified as her resurrected husband.’ She then made some gnarly Catholicism joke that made her husband blush, and had Jake nearly pissing himself with laughter, then told them they would be chaperoning them to Karaoke for a girls night.

You held your babies and kissed them goodnight, Rory rushing to go enjoy playtime with her favorite cousin, but baby Zara Eden Cielo Spector was another story entirely, you could hardly bring yourself to put her down. You had taken to motherhood like a duck to water, and the boys loved seeing you flourish. Zara’s birth took a lot out of you, nearly killed you in-fact. An emergency C-section was needed and it was two months before you could get back to normal and a month after that before you went back to work. The near death experience saw you focusing in on your family more than normal. Your duties as an avatar were graciously put on hold momentarily, but your mortal job could not be so easily abated. Your constant shuttling from work to home over and over with no rest was slowly dimming your sparkle, and everyone noticed. Including Robin, which was how the fearsome vigilantes wound up at a Karaoke bar watching their wives have the time of their lives.

“Yah know what? I think Robin is doing this on purpose, all of these songs have been in Batman movies.” Steven chuckled, slapping a hand to Matt’s back with a grin.

“Oh she certainly has, she’s doing it because I refused to sing Batdance with her. She’s wasted.” He laughs with a shake of his head.

“Ah, well, Taylor Swift hasn’t made an appearance yet in my Wife’s repertoire so we haven’t reached the end of her evening yet.” Steven laughs. You are currently up front laughing at Robin who’s impression of Kurt Cobain while singing Something In the Way. Was bordering on hysterical. Steven was looking at you with something akin to wonder, he loved how silly you are when you’re like this. He noticed you pouting at your glass and he stood to deliver you another drink, giving Matt a tap on the hand and offering to grab him another. He politely declined, but did request he bring Robin a water. He nodded and agreed, he understood that this bar in particular must be entirely overwhelming for the super powered chap, and was more than happy to lend a hand.

He made his way over to you as you were putting in another song and you grinned and threw your arms around him, nearly knocking the waters he brought for you and Robin out of his hands.

“Steven my love!” You squealed, coveinr his face in little kisses that made him grin. Robin was making a gagging noise behind you but he just laughed it off, used to the mouthy woman’s brand of teasing.

“Hello darling.” He grinned setting down the waters and wrapping his arms around you.

“Did you know I looooooove you?” You giggled and he blushed, rubbing his nose with yours as your hands clumsily grasped the sides of his face.

“My word! Really? What a lucky bastard I’ve turned out to be. I would hope so though love, we do have two sets of proof that we shag quite often yeah?” You cackled at his lame joke and he shakes his head, beaming at you in wonder.

“Yes we do, and you’re veeeeery good at it Steven, ten out of ten would shag again.” You nod seriously, and he chuckles. “Thanks for the water Angel face, I gotta go though this next song is dedicated to you.” You blew him a kiss and ran off to go giggle with Robin and he shook his head, going back to his seat next to Matt.

“Well they’re certainly having a good time.” Matt chuckles, beaming when his Robin cackled at a joke you’ve made, he can hear how happy his wife is to be with a friend who understands just how wild your lives are. “About that cult though-“ the boys talk shop for another thirty minutes before Robin took the stage again, doing a very spirited rendition of ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ by The Rolling Stones. Her husband found it very amusing, then your name was announced, and there was that Taylor Swift he was waiting on.

“This is for my very own Steven with a V.

Hey Stephen, I know looks can be deceiving

But I know I saw a light in you

And as we walked we would talk

And I didn't say half the things I wanted to

Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window

I'll be the one waiting there even when it's cold

Hey Stephen, boy, you might have me believing

I don't always have to be alone

'Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel

Can't help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so

Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you

Can't help it if there's no one else

Mmm, I can't help myself”

Steven’s heart melted, you were adorable up there, grinning, and singing, and staring at him like he was your whole world. He was so lucky to be yours. You were his whole world and seeing you this care free always melted a part of him completely.

“Wow hermano, she’s really on a roll tonight.” Jake chuckles from the reflection of a pint glass near Matt.

“Yeah man, she’s looking at you like you’re her whole world. Wish I was being serenaded right now.” Marc laughed from his phone screen and he grinned shaking his head.

“The way you walk, way you talk, way you say my name

It's beautiful, wonderful, don't you ever change

Hey Stephen, why are people always leaving?

I think you and I should stay the same

'Cause I can't help it if you look like an angel

Can't help it if I wanna kiss you in the rain, so

Come feel this magic I've been feeling since I met you

Can't help it if there's no one else

Mmm, I can't help myself”

The night ended with them calling a cab for the Murdock’s and sending them on their way. Stephen then grabbed the car and let Jake drive you home, giving the body back up once they were parked. Steven was more than happy to help his giggly tipsy wife change into pajamas, and he lovingly stared into your eyes with all the love one man could hold while gently removing your make up.

“I had so much fun Steven.” you sighed and he chuckled, kissing your forehead.

“Did you? Well I’m very glad love. We will have to see the Murdock’s more often yeah?” He grinned as you squealed and happily koalaed yourself around his torso, he wrapped his arms under your ass and carried you to bed as you placed little kisses all along his neck. He tucked you both into bed with a contented smile and couldn’t supress his grin while you tried to hide your drunken giggles. “What’s so funny love?” He giggled along with you, wrapping g his arms around your waist.

“Nothing baby, you’re just so pretty. I just love you.” You sighed, and Steven swore that if you weren’t holding him so tightly he would just float away.

“I love you too baby.”

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khizmet · 8 months ago

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just needing to get this out.

It's not Taylor Swift that annoys me (I don't know the girl) but the concept of Taylor Swift feeds this anger within me.

TL;DR, She is just such a stark reminder of the privilege and power that white women hold in white man's Amerika.

I personally do not enjoy most of her music. That is fine, my opinion doesn't and shouldn't matter to anyone else.

But no matter what anyone thinks of her music, it will always be given the chance in the public space. It is socially important to have some kind of opinion on whatever move she makes. This speaks a lot to our misogynistic control over female bodies as a society. Similarly to Beyonce (and all women; esp in the public eye) she is expected to perform in a way that is palatable to the male and yt gaze. I will not hold her on that.

However, it also speaks to the notion that yt women are the baseline for our society. When people approach their thoughts on her it is always with the veil of implicit acceptance. Bc she is the standard for everything Amerika idolizes, she holds this air of purity. Intelligence. Innocence. Gentleness. Rightness. We are socialized to view her, and those like her as the bar.

And tho so many are trying to unlearn this concept of yt exceptionalism and internalized supremacy, some of those same people are still found gnawing at the bottom of her copper pedestal.

"White is right"

Whenever I feel that she has created mediocre or downright indigestible art, I see the internet eating it up with no issue. Even if they have critique, these critiques are given with the base understanding that what we have received is good inherently. The concept that we must have a differing opinion and keep her humble with some type of wrongdoing is pure farce.

Art is, and always will be, subjective; most things in life are. In Taylor's case it feels like 10% art, 90% knowing what her audience wants and providing them with these goods in exchange of their idolatry and money. And while yes, I am slightly critiquing Taylor here, we must keep in mind that this will never be the fault of an individual. She is merely playing the game, playing the role that we are all taught and expected to play.

When I see the influence of Taylor in so many places around me, I hear MLK's belated thoughts on the white moderate. I see yt people given permission to put their blinders on and live within this place of (what they think is) neutrality. There is no sense in asking taylor to hold the entirety, or even anything other than a small percentage of the culpability here.

These blinders are willingly put on every day by so many people and in so many ways. When there is yt and upper class joy to be had, all of a sudden there is no Palestine, there is no modern slavery, there are no immigrants dying from diseases we eradicated decades ago, there is just permission to put all that away for another day, whenever you feel like picking it back up.

What gets under my skin is not Taylor Swift, it is the act of being able to shed the problems of the world and bask in the joy afforded to you as a birthright while so many of us have to justify, claw until our fingers bleed, and then ask permission to enjoy something. All the while, still holding the weight of the world on our shoulders.

When a new Taylor Swift album comes out, the haze of weightless and unencumbered joy, a kind of joy that so many of us will never experience, that everpresent fog of uninhibited joy just becomes too thick to ignore. It's harder to breathe than normal, and it burns my lungs.

#tswift #taylor swift #ttpd #capitalism is killing us #on the search for more Black joy #on the hunt for more bipoc joy #just khizzy things #long post #one black persons perspective #eat the rich #the tortured poets department

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readerhead · 1 year ago

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Commenting about the anon who was rude; agree with you that there's no need to be impolite, even on the internet where everyone wants, no, HAS to be right and forgets that sometimes one listens to a song and want to have their own take on it. Instead of rudeness, it's better to just not comment.

FWIW, I kinda liked imagining similar to you (regardless of whether it's truth) because it fit the lyrics (KC and ES may have been a little up and down and he later married his ex GF I think.) Her busy filming schedules and rising career plus ES and AG had a mutual (Jessie) they had both worked with back in 2008/09. Add in the earlier audition and then later screen test from Sept. of 2010 and seems like there were a lot of things that a bestie like TS might've been there to lean on/be there for. And ultimately, to me, that is what this song is about: those friends that support each other, admire each others strengths, help one cope when they feel weak (even if they go it alone), and just 'get us,' moreso than which man it is about, it is about Taylor and her friend, the friend that you relate to and cares about you in the same way they are present through your own heartaches and challenges and happy times. That the friendship lasts for over a decade is a testament to the devotion that good friends can have for each other.

Beautiful song and from the past. I'm willing to leave that past where it is and hope that all look forward and make new memories. Doesn't mean one can't appreciate the bittersweet with the understanding that it comes from loving LOVE itself and knowing that love can be painful when the relationship changes into something else. It can also be uplifting because love endures many changes during our lifetimes and in many ways and for many people. Really glad that TS released the song and hope others enjoy it without spreading discord about it.

Thank you so much sweetie! <3

I didn't know about their mutual. I was aware of her dating KC, but i really think that the song really fitted way more her love for AG.

Also, I agree about the song being of the appreciation a friend has for other friend, because the first thing I thought when I listened to it the first time was about my friend when she fell in love for the first time and how happy I was for her because she deserves love (even if it didn't end well), the thought about it being about ES and AG came after tbh.

It's just one verse of the song that does a reference to the boy Emma is in love, so obviously that isn't the main subject specially when TS is talking about a friend so beatifully as she does in the song. For me the whole album, with the story telling and all it's just about TS's experience those years being a hopeless romantic.

And yes, the whole response was about that person being rude when they don't even know the truth and the only one who truly knows it is TS, like you can always ignore the post or even argue with me all you want as long as you're not impolite.

#when emma falls in love

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artofsaudade · 2 years ago

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"It's been a long time coming, but"

Hello, tumblr! Long time no see!

I was wondering if there was anyone around here since the competition field between social media is getting tougher these days and I am really happy to find out that we are still mingling around this wonderful bubble that tumblr is.

The thing is: I’ve had a lot of time to think and read (the perks of being unemployed) and suddenly, I felt really inspired by two people in my universe, which, until now, I didn't recognize their similarities: João Guimarães Rosa and Taylor Swift.

I think we can dispense further introductions towards miss americana, Taylor Swift, innit? Even because this text is for you, swiftie and we already have a long relationship (the best she ever had - not my words, hers) with young miss Alison.

The person who I would like to introduce is Mr João Guimarães Rosa and try to convince you to give the splendid work of this Brazilian writer a chance, because, in my opinion, if you admire Taylor Swift's work as a lyricist, you’ll LOVE Guimarães (or Guima, as I like to affectionately call him) because like miss Swift, he is a word person.

João Guimarães Rosa was a Brazilian writer, poet,diplomat, novelist and physician (does this remind you of someone who is a singer, songwriter, doctor, producer, actress, screenwriter, and director? Oh well), who is widely regarded as the most important Brazilian author of the twentieth century and one of the greatest of all time. His work is known for its unique linguistic style as well as for its exploration of themes such as identity, memory, the human condition and, my favourite one: love.

In his most famous novel “Grande Sertão: veredas” (The Devil to Pay in the Backlands), we know the story of Riobaldo, a bandit who lives several dilemmas related to morals, the nature of existence, his identity, the constant doubt about the realization of a pact with the devil (THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL! IYKYK) and his love for his colleague Diadorim. Being that last subject written in such a poetic way that I'm sure it would become the bedside book for all of you.

One of the great characteristics of Guimarães Rosa is the way he uses language. Every phrase is so well written because in its simplicity he can build complex sentence structures that hold so much meaning. I keep catching myself losing my breath everytime I read his work because every single time a side of it that I didn’t get the last time reveals itself to me and I’m blown away all over again.

Guimarães Rosa employs a distinctive style that combines regional dialects, neologisms (yes, guys, the man could invent WORDS!) and archaic Portuguese to create a unique voice that captures the richness and diversity of Brazilian culture, and in this book, helps to build all the complexity of the feelings of a man who finds himself questioning his nature, his identity while going through the unsettling feeling of being in love with another man in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Although regionalism is a constant feature in this book, by dealing with themes such as good and evil, love, hate, God and the devil, betrayal, among others of a philosophical nature, the writer manages to make this narrative universal, so that everyone can recognize themselves within it (I, myself, have the feeling that he reads what is inside my soul… oh wait, can you think about someone that have the same delicacy with the human soul and that can express the nuances through words that are utterly relatable?).

With that in mind, I cannot help but imagine that being a fan of one of the greatest composers of all time, who manages to be a great storyteller and add poetry to her narrative, you will not like the universe created by Guimarães Rosa and his words.

I want to be clear that I'm not comparing the two because I think Mr. Rosa is incomparable just like Taylor is incomparable, what I'm saying is that god/the universe/whatever you believe has given these two people a precious gift, which is to reach parts of our hearts that we didn't realise were calling out to us.

It breaks my heart that not many people get to witness this man's writing in his mother tongue, Portuguese, as much of his poetry is inextricably linked to the way our language presents itself to the world and much of it is lost in translation. However, I'm sure that regardless of the translation you have access to, Guimarães will make you fall in love with the way the world is seen through his eyes.

All in all, I want to share with you some of my favourite quotes by Guima and I hope that, in a while, you will have favourites of your own.

hy in relating something, mention everything, every little detail? That meeting of ours was out-of-the-ordinary, melodramatic, the kind you read of only in newspapers and books. It was not until afterwards that I could put together even what I am telling you now and really understand it -for, when something like this is happening, what you feel mostly is what pertains to the body: the thudding heart.

"Those are one’s hours. The others, those of any time, are everybody hours (...) It is as though life’s trivialities were a pool of water in which we find ourselves submerged, a pool that covers and deadens everything - but once in a rare while we manage to raise our heads out of it, in a sort of miracle: like a little fish begging! Why? I am going to tell you something that is not generally known: always when we begin to love someone, in the normal run of things, love takes root and grows, because, in a way, that is what we want to happen, and so we seek it and help it along in our mind; but when it is predestined, allembrancing, we love completely and fatefully, we have to love, and we come upon one surprise after another. A love of this sort grows first and bursts later."

“Love inspires love. I tell you it’s so. I think of Diadorim too - but Diadorim is a soft haze.”

“And suddenly I found myself loving him beyond all reason, loving him even more than before. With my heart at his feet, to be trampled upon. I had been loving him the whole time.”

“I never left Diadorim’s side. I felt an urge to eat and drink his leftovers; I wanted to touch whatever he had touched.”

“In my happiness I saw stars.”

#literature #swifties #brazil #books and reading #taylor swift #taylornation #author #bookshelf #booklr #read in 2023 #romance #new books #swiftbook #literature quotes #currently reading

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soft-pine · 2 months ago

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so instead of replying to any of the above. and instead of listening when i said, "i am finding this conversation really frustrating so from the bottom of my heart no pressure to respond." this person just sent me ... a list of events that occur in 1.07??????? so let's dive in.

dean: so you believe her? sam: i do. dean: yeah, i think she's hot too.

see, "romantic encounters" sheet, line 15.

*visibly turns to look at female librarian's ass*

i mean he turns to watch as she walks away. it's subjective if he's checking her out or waiting til she's gone to keep talking or looking after her after she made a kinda flirty face at him. i'm not keeping track of these little moments that can be read so many different ways.

dean: so this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?

what sheet am i supposed to be adding this to?

sam (to dean): that's pretty good. you and dad think of this? dean: i told you. you don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius

what sheet am i supposed to be adding this to??

confronted by cops and told to lay down arms, put up hands, and lay on ground: dean: he had the gun!

what sheet am i supposed to be adding this to???

dean: i told him that you were a dumbass pledge and we were hazing you... sam: and he believed you? dean: well you look like a dumbass pledge!

what sheet am i supposed to be adding this to????

dean: dude, sorority girls! think we'll see a naked pillow fight?

see, "romantic encounters" sheet, line 16.

contrasting sam and lori: lori arguing with dad in car: "i'm an adult. i can take care of myself" lori not wanting to get close to sam and discussing feeling cursed because people around her keep dying; sam saying he thinks she knows how she feels lori having issues with her father and his insistence that she simply have faith "it's like on one hand, you know, just do what you want and be happy. but he taught me, raised me to believe, that if you do something wrong you will get punished" lori's inadvertent powers via ghost hurting her father, who she loves dearly "i was so angry at my father." "part of me wanted him punished. and then he came, and he punished him" (sobbing) sam: it's not your fault lori: it is. i don;t know how, but itis. i killed rich. taylor too. i nearly killed my father... i can see it now... they didn't deserve to be punished. i do.

what sheet am i supposed to be adding this to?????

dean refers to lori as sam's "little friend lori"

what sheet am i supposed to be adding this to??????

in a club/party with various scantily clad women dean: man, you've been holding out on me. this whole college thing is awesome! sam: this wasn't really my experience.

i don't know what you want me to do with this? like i get it that the comment is probably about the hot women there. but also like it's a party? it seems like fun. the romantic encounters tab is really mostly for like direct interactions or more specific comments.

when discussing how to split up and deal with the case: sam: and you? dean: *looks at a woman winking at him, winks back* (unhappily:) i.. i'm gonna check out that unmarked grave.

see, "romantic encounters" sheet, line 17.

dean: next time, I get to watch the cute girl's house.

see, "romantic encounters" sheet, line 18.

dean saving sam at last moment (repeatedly), sometimes with lori as well. sam clearly framed as a damsel in distress

WHAT THE HELL SHEET AM I SUPPOSED TO BE ADDING THIS TO??????? gonna make a separate post about this one because it is truly unhinged.

(figured id cut the response and just get to the actual stuff that mattered. again, sorry if you've already got this shit)

YES I ALREADY HAVE IT!!!! where it is even remotely relevant to that things i have stated i am keeping track of, I HAVE IT. all 4 moments here that had any relevance to things i'm tracking, i ALREADY NOTED. apology not accepted. in your first message to me, you said my spreadsheet had "a lot of stuff missing." turns out you couldn't even be bothered to read it enough to check if i already had your so-called "relevant" additions.

(some of the dean readings weren't particularly charitable, i know this. i love the guy but you have some bias so i decided to be biased in the opposite direction)

after weeks of insisting im soooo biased this is honestly pretty funny. also you haven't once pointed out a place where my bias (i like dean) effects my actual notes (counting the number of times dean or sam say specific kinds of comments).

but please listen to me, WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR IS SAM-META BLOGS! that is who is gonna be writing about the framing of sam as a victim in need of rescue. that's who's gonna be writing about sam and lori parallels. that's who's gonna be keeping track of all the comments dean makes about sam's experience at college. but I AM NOT THAT BLOG. and i never fucking said i was. i never said my spreadsheet keeps track of EVERYTHING AND EVERY dynamic from spn. and i would never try to do that. THE ONLY THINGS you sent me that were relevant were things i already had noted down.

so that's it. we're done. any reply to this that isn't along the lines of "gotcha" is gonna result in a block.

woke up to these lovely DMs and while I'm of course not going to post this person's account, I am going to respond publicly. (cn discussion of SA)

okay so to preface this, you're somewhat correct. what we are doing - what we are all doing is an interpretive task. objectivity really doesn't exist - on my side or yours. and i'm not claiming it does. i have said and said again and said over again that i'm not trying to exclude or skew things. but sometimes i am simply not going to interpret a scene the way someone else does. and that's okay. please take your own notes! hell copy-paste mine and delete everything you don't like! add whatever you want!

that said, i made these notes with the intention for it to be useful to other people so if it seems like something is categorized wrong or not included, we can talk about it. i've said and said again and said over again that i am open to specific feedback. and where i have received specific feedback, i've made the small changes suggested!

but this is not specific. and honestly is virtually meaningless to me at this point. just because the notes don't sit right with your feelings about the show is not, in and of itself, proof i've missed anything. especially, especially because one of the reasons i made this document is because i saw frequent, unsubstantiated claims get circulated widely and i wanted more information to fall back on. so tell me what i've missed specifically or don't bother.

i'm sorry that you don't like that post. but honestly things can have some fucking layers. do both sam & dean make jokes to each other that make light of SA & demons, yes. are they both men who were raised in a misogynistic culture and have better and worse moments at treating each other and those around them with respect, yes. do i fucking hate meg and wish she would stop assaulting both of them, YES!

was i pointing out that there is a pattern of dean thinking about femininity and women and being embodied as a woman, yeah. it's not like i cannot engage with that comment in multiple ways. it's not like it's not in my notes.

but also like i don't go search up posts about sam's gender by people who are primarily interested in sam and say how their post is shitty to or diminishing of or not fully accounting for everything dean has experienced. that would be a waste of my time and theirs. i'm sorry i didn't talk enough about waffles in my post about pancakes but you're not in an ihop. you're in my kitchen right now. i make pancakes. we are eating pancakes.

but i take issue with again and again. point me to it. show me where dean does this again and again? like i am genuinely asking what am i missing. where is the repeated mocking? tell me what episode, what scene and i will add it to my notes and my understanding. heck! if you don't have that information, i'd take a gifset or a sam-centric meta post and put the puzzle pieces together myself.

i don't know what to tell you. these notes were compiled over the course of over a year and two full supernatural rewatches plus some. i am currently rewatching supernatural. i am never not watching supernatural. i am never not taking notes.

and i fully own my dean-centric POV. that's not gonna change. but that doesn't mean that as i was watching the show, side-by-side with the transcript page open, rewinding and double-checking and adding notes, that i was just leaving things out willy-nilly that didn't fit into my view. honestly, when i started these notes (primarily to record how sam & dean articulated their feelings about john), i didn't expect a lot of these categories to turn out this way. i don't need them to be like this to love dean and i was and am open to corrections that change these numbers. but you have to tell me what they are. and not just claim they simply must exist.

now on to this. honestly if you've been even an ounce as careful looking over my notes as i was making them, you'd find that a lot of the dialogue about possession being like SA comes from dean. that is not to say that i don't think that's how sam experienced it or that he can't feel it without saying it aloud or that fans can't interpret that that is how he is likely feeling.

but don't come here and tell me i need to consider this when i fucking marked down all the times in season 5 that dean compares the prospect of michael possessing him to rape. when i watched the scene in 14.03 when dean undresses the clothes michael dressed him in. when this is like one of the main themes of my main fic. like you don't know me. dont come on my blog and scroll down far enough to find a post you hate and then tell me you can somehow know all my thoughts on a topic that post wasn't even about.

i have never claimed that dean is being victimized by sam. if that's what you get from my notes that honestly says more about you than me.

and that's the real issue isn't it. i simply must be so biased but you all... all the people yelling at me that i've missed so much are, what... not engaged in an interpretive task with inherent imperfections and bias?

i am trying to be as honest, open, correctable, and sincere as i can about this but i don't have to skew my document until the numbers look right to you.

#replying clarifying trying #jesus. cue it ain't me babe.#cause honestly im so done.#you have invented a standard to hold me to to which i never agreed or claimed to meet #and youre yelling at me for failing #i mean at least i understand why sam's your fave #dont message me again. i can and will get meaner.

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youcoulduseabuddy · 3 years ago

Text

if kotw/kotc/(kotf) was a netflix show or movie playlist with explanations

here is my playlist for if Kingdom of the Wicked & Kingdom of the Cursed (and eventually Kingdom of the Feared) by Kerri Maniscalco was a fantasy romance tv drama, like TVD meets Bridgerton vibes or a movie. Songs 1-38* are KOTW, and the rest (so far) are KOTC. It's a big mix of genres such as alt/indie, folk, some blues, some rock, pop, some R&B, and Vitamin String Quartet covers lol.

More of the "popular" genres and songs begin in the KOTC part of the playlist (song 39* and on)

I hope you like my explanations below

*NOTE: numbering subject to change bc playlists are always ever-evolving :')

Stolen Roses by Karen Elson - gives me italian kingdom, introducing childhood Emilia & Vittoria vibez.

Ninna Ninna (Lullaby) - 8-year-old twins with Nonna

Italian Folk Music Serenade - instrumental intro to Sicily

Sisters of the Moon by Fleetwood Mac - meet the 18-year-olds

Angelboy by Lucian and Jade Alice - Emilia crushing on Antonio like a FEWL (fool).

Cockeye's Song - a scary, dramatic, yet somehow romantic sounding ? instrumental; KOTW summoning/meeting Wrath. Like 1:22 feels like the wind is blowing and they make eye contact for the first time and it being *sparkle sparkle* dEsTinY.

NOT A GOOD MAN WALKING by Liam St. John - Enter/Meet Wrath

The Devil is a Gentleman by Merci Raines - just a Wrath type of song

Met Him Last Night by Demi Lovato & Ariana Grande - self-explanatory

Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey - I know this song is about LDR's ex-bf that died, but this song reminds me of Emilia mourning Vittoria

No Blood from a Stone by Shawn James - Meet Greed & Envy

The Ghost of You (by MCR) but VSQ cover - instrumental; Viperidae. This song is just heartbreaking about loss, so knowing what we know now about Wrath always having known Emilia (and possibly being in love with her, whoever she was in her past)... part of me is like, well of course he would save her. He couldn't lose her again. cries.

Black Water Lilies by AURORA - Wrath marks Emilia, she thinks she's "reborn"

Thank You for the Venom (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; she's not exactly grateful he saved her life LOL

Ghost (You Don't Know My Name) by Shawn James - Wrath & Emilia meet Antonio in the monastery

What He Don't Know by Anarbor - a potentially jealous Wrath???

Running with Wolves by AURORA - super popular song; Emilia seeking info, learning stuff from Salvatore

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Måneskin - kicking ass vibez

Holy Water by Freya Ridings - continued kicking monsters ass vibez

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood by Lana Del Rey - Emilia's character getting darker // when she uses dark magic to make the messenger forget. "I'm just a soul whose intentions are good"

Motive by Ariana Grande & Doja Cat - Emilia questioning Wrath's intentions/motives throughout the whole dang book LOL, but esp after hearing from Anir about the marriage bond

Heathens by AURORA - the Lust dance

Like a Stone by Shawn James - mourning vibez, the emptiness; also side note - oh god if we're going by the reincarnation theory that Emilia is the reincarnated version of SOMEONE Wrath was in love with and they were cursed for her to not remember him~~~ oh man oh man, my heart hurts listening to this song while imagining him just waiting by her side. ALEXA PLAY WAIT FOR ME FROM HADESTOWN,,, and oh oh oh if we get more backstory of that, then I would totes put Orpheus by Shawn James as well. yes there's a lot of Shawn James and AURORA songs in here, they've got the spooky vibez y'all.

All is Soft Inside by AURORA - the bath (I just realized there's a bunch of bath scenes in KOTW and KOTC, but you know what I mean)

Better by Pink Sweat$ & KIRBY - Emilia & Wrath bonding at the big palace house thing

Alone With You by Alina Baraz - playing scopa, eating cannolis

A Dangerous Thing by AURORA - just a wrathemilia type of song; internal conflict of feelings

Mad woman by Taylor Swift - more Emilia vibez, Claudia being lowkey collateral damage sadly

Burn the Witch by Shawn James - more witches are dying, Emilia's family threatened by Envy, all things kinda going to shit but not losing hope

Through the Eyes of a Child by AURORA - disillusionment

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT by Elley Duhé - ooo da make out song

Devil's Backbone by The Civil Wars - Emilia falling for but also denying how she feels toward Wrath; olive branch ring; transition vibez back toward chaos

Fuck Em Only We Know by BANKS - Emilia sad after Wrath sacrifices himself, and she tries to re-summon him and she's sad when he doesn't come bc he was too injured :(

Female Energy, Part 2 by WILLOW - also such a super popular song; just after-sacrifice vibez. This song was hard to place because Emilia's "finding truth" throughout both books, but KOTC has darker vibes than this song has. This song , with the whole "I am human, I am woman" theme and peaceful guitar strumming just fits more with the uncertainty of KOTW for me.

Churchyard by AURORA - Emilia finds out Antonio is a hoe I mean a murderer

Soulless Creatures by AURORA - before she leaves

All the good girls go to hell by billie eilish - it would be a crime if i did not include this song... even though it's about climate change LOL uh, ending events of KOTW, Emilia signing her soul to Pride.

okay this is where the vibez in the playlist transition. Less of the indie folk pop-ish (there still will be), and more R&B, alt/indie-pop to reflect the sassy shift in hell. There is also a lot more of Vitamin String Quartet to reflect the classiness in Hell... like Bridgerton hehe.

Devil Devil by MILCK - the irony. She thinks she's going to Pride, but oooo girl just u WAIT !

Another Day in Purgatory by Merci Raines - START OF KOTC!!! PROLOGUE/PROPHECY vibez

Pomegranate Seeds by Julian Moon - Welcome to hell vibez / if KOTC was a movie (or lets say KOTW was season 1 in my imaginary TV show, and KOTC is season 2 LOL), this would be the intro credits.

You Don't Own Me by SAYGRACE & G-Eazy - more intro vibez AND I think it would just be funny/ironic bc Emilia thinks she belongs to Pride and keeps referencing him as "the devil" and she's sassing Wrath and Wrath is probably just like rofl/lmao-ing/"you-fucking-beautiful-idiot" in his head

Gods & Monsters by Lana Del Rey - another popular choice; SIN CORRIDOR

Orient Express by Italian Orchestra - Instrumental; hypothermia.

Only In My Dreams by The Marias - Wrath nursing Emilia back to health

Fell in Love with a Girl (VSQ cover) - Welcome to House of Wrath Instrumental vibez

Do I Wanna Know (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; libraries, snooping, enchanted skull vibez

Greedy by Ariana Grande - Emilia just being hot before the dinner.

I'm a Sucker for a Liar in a Red Dress by Adam Jensen - Wrath seeing Emilia before the dinner

Hotter than Hell by dula peep Dua Lipa - make out song before dinner LOL

You should see me in a crown by billie eilish - presentation of Emilia to nobility

Bad Habits (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; just dinner vibez idk

Into You by Ariana Grande - during the dinner touches hehehe

Necessary Evil by Nikki Yanofsky - just transition vibez

Bad guy (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; Emilia vs. the pig Makaden or however you spell his name

Doubt It by The Amazons - this song just made me think if Emilia was experiencing internal conflict over her upbringing and where she's at now

Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande - Crescent Shallows <3

Afterlife by Hailee Steinfeld - Crescent Shallows and after, when Wrath reveals they are eNgÁgEd

Move Your Body by Karra - Emilia has a memory vision of some girl gettin' frreeaakkayy with Wrath (though she doesn't necessarily know its him)

Through the Valley by Shawn James - if there was a backstory song about like Wrath / Emilia with Envy in the library / art thing, The Fallen

Misery Business (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; going back to House of Wrath from House of Envy, meeting that snobby irrelevant girl in the carriage

The Forbidden Fruits of Eden by AURORA - just transition vibez

Our Lady of Sorrows (VSQ cover) - House Envy vibez/ "hello little thief" in the garden vibez

Your Power by billie eilish - Emilia's first training for Gluttony's party that was highkey icky yet somehow necessary I guess

Soul mate by flora cash - ok after he apologized for the ick training - this is for the brief moment where he helps her learn to dance, also just pls listen to this song with the context that wrathemilia were always meant to be and just ~cry~

Cross My Heart I Hope U Die by Meg Smith - Emilia being like wtf y is Antonio doing sabbatical over here, gtfo, what is this a hotel omg

Back to Black (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; just transition vibez

Cake by Melanie Martinez - training for Gluttony

Bad Decisions by Ariana Grande - more training for Gluttony / planning "revenge" on Wrath vibez

...baby one more time by The Marias - same as above, but it turns into the memory

This Is What It Feels Like by BANKS - the memory vision

She's the One by Mount Tyrant - also memory vision; just listen with context that wrathemilia are soulmates again <3

INFERNO by Sub Urban and Bella Poarch - I just imagine this song for a badass entrance of Emilia in her crushed red velvet gown before Gluttony's party vibez

F*ck Me & Feed Me by Rendezvous At Two - literally walking into Gluttony's house and seeing... all that.

Seven Devils by Florence + The Machine - I WOULD BE A FOOOOOL if I didn't include this song. Meet the brothers.

High Enough by K. Flay - Emilia wondering why Wrath didn't come to see her the first night of Gluttony's party / her wondering if he's seeing someone else

Stampede by Lindsey Stirling - Instrumental; Emilia riding out on Tanzie and getting caught vibez

My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (VSQ cover) - instrumental; getting caught, jailed, and then freed by "some" dude

Wicked Games (VSQ cover) - instrumental; Gluttony masquerade vibez

Dancing with the Devil by Demi Lovato - pretty self explanatory

All My Girls Like to Fight by Hope Tala - THIS IS MY FAVE song in this playlist. There was an interview where the artist said she "wanted to portray women as having strength and agency in the narrative" and oof I just love this as like a tango song if Pride and Emilia were dancing to a tango and she's a badass.

What it means to be a girl by EMELINE - this song just gives me ANY house vibez but I think especially at Gluttony's party when Emilia's among all the boiz (except sloth? poor sloth. the disrespect) and it just reminds me of Emilia really trying her best to keep up with them and/or outsmart them (particularly, Pride at the moment)

If You Let Me by Alina Baraz - tryst vibez hehehe

More than Enough by Alina Baraz - same as above

Give You What You Like by Avril Lavigne - it makes me sad that this song would match bc its about two lonely people looking for intimacy & companionship. Yet, it kind of does match. Emilia ultimately does kind of use Wrath in this moment (the tryst).

I Want You To Stay by Victor Lundberg & Matt Bloyd - Wrath asks her if she's ready to choose him but then she frickin' drugs him.

MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; Emilia going to the Cursed Tree to learn the truth about Wrath; transition vibez

Power by Isak Danielson - Wrath being a sad boi in the kitchen after Emilia frickin' drugged him to find out the truth about him which is kind of excessive but welp

I Fell in Love with the Devil by Avril Lavigne - when Emilia breaks the leaf and Wrath holds onto her, afraid she's going to be destroyed

Call Out My Name by The Weeknd - Wrath hurt, Emilia highkey judging him for being the devil

Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1) by AURORA - just aftermath type of song; I just think this song relates well to Wrath and his decision making. He would do dark things for what is just and to protect Emilia, etc.

Devil's Resting Place by Laura Marling - Emilia riding Tanzie and learning all she can about stuff vibez

Centuries (VSQ cover) - Instrumental; putting puzzle pieces together bc of Celestia

The Devil's Daughters by Shawn James - Ending of KOTC, seeing Vittoria and she's SUS vibez. Emilia running back to Wrath's castle. Also my inclusion/reintroduction of Shawn James songs (more folk/rock) which I featured more in the beginning of the playlist for KOTW rather than KOTC is my attempt at nodding back to the vibes of KOTW now that Vittoria is "back".

No One Knows by Shawn James - oooo what's gonna happen next

Warrior by AURORA - Emilia turning point where she's like "I don't care who started it now, everyones been fucking lying to me and i'm pISSED" alternatively "I don't care who started it but i'm fuckign ENDING IT" vibez

Lilith by Ellise - So yeah, Vittoria is SUS / Emilia is REALLY coming into her Reputation era but my gurl is not basic

VILLAIN by K/DA, Madison Beer & Kim Petras - More pissed off vibez. okay... if any of you read the KOTF first chapter excerpt... I would save this song for that actually.

Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA - my other FAVE song in this playlist, its just badass emilia concluding vibez

Sometimes by Ariana Grande - Emilia realizing Wrath's been there the entire time and she needs him to help her with her emotions/rage, etc <3

Loving You by Rendezvous At Two - "then I suggest coming to bed, your majesty" AKDJFKLDSJFKL omg im sweating

Past Lives by BØRNS - ending credits type of song

Hate You + Love You by Cheat Codes, AJ Mitchell - more ending credits LOL (you know how like when watch a movie too long and there's more credits songs, and eventually its just awkwardly quiet)

Fairytale by Alexander Rybak - BONUS SONG - did anyone read the Wrath POV chapters???? well, this song is dedicated to the sister i'm assuming the devil fell in love with *wink winK*

DARKSIDE by Neoni - Kingdom of the Feared !

86 notes · View notes

typewrittenluck · 3 years ago

Text

as the seasons change

C!Technoblade x gn!reader highschool!au

Word Count: 9.1k

Pronouns: they/them

A/N: this is literally so self indulgent, i spent a whole day writing this because im going through my techno feels rn. it basically follows the story of oblivious Y/N and Techno throughout the four seasons :)

Warnings: Underaged drinking, Swearing, Smoking, Drugs (very brief)

Suggested Songs: The State of Grace, Taylor Swift/ MEET ME AT OUR SPOT, THE ANXIETY, WILLOW, Tyler Cole/ that way, Tate McRae/ Falling, Chase Atlantic/ Compass, The Neighborhood

SUMMER------------

The August air was thick with the heat of the almost-setting sun. Her rays beat down on the backs of the group of teens, and mosquitos filled the silences between them with their incessant buzzing.

A small crack of static preceded the soft sound of music, accompanied by the sharp smack of Niki and Jack’s celebratory high-five.

“Didn’t you start setting up the speaker like an hour ago?” questioned Wilbur, who was sunk into a half-broken lawn chair that he had found in the garage.

“Yeah, it would have been much faster if you had asked Techno” chimed Y/N from their place leaning against the above mentioned man’s leg.

His grunt of response was cut short by his little brother, Tommy, bursting into laughter.

“Because he’s TECHno! Get it?!”

Everyone groaned and Wilbur smacked Tommy upside the head, grumbling about “shouldn’t have let you come hang out with us”

Y/N giggled at that, but took sympathy on the boy. “Aww don’t be like that Wil, Tommy, I thought that was hilarious.”

“Don’t encourage him, Y/N” Techno leaned down to murmured to them in his low, monotonous voice.

There it was. The way he said their name! The way his calf felt under Y/N’s back! The way he whispered sentences directly to them, as if it was some closely guarded secret. It was enough to bring butterflies to their stomach as they praised whatever higher being was out there for the heat of the day covering their blush.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Fundy moaned, kicking Wilburs shin from his place lying facedown on the grass. “Can we go to the pool or something?”

His request was met with a spectrum of responses, varying from Tommy’s “YES, PLEASE WILL? PLEASE!” to Technoblades indifferent shrug.

Jack took note of Technoblades open response with a shout of laughter. “TECHNOBLADE IN THE POOL! I WOULD PAY GOOD MON-”

“I’m not getting in, dumbass.”

“Why? Scared you’ll ruin your hair?”

“No, he doesn’t want us to know he’s secretly jacked under the sixteen sweaters he wears.”

Technoblade picked up the hem of his sweatshirt, making eye contact with Niki. She has a point.

“How do you wear that in the Summer?”

“It’s n- TOMMY!!”

Shrieks of laughter follow Tommy’s water gun assault on his brother. “When did he slip away to go get those?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“WHEN ARE WE LEAVING??” Tommy asked enthusiastically.

---

A crowded minivan, a stop to pick up Tommy’s friend, and a raid of Phil’s linen closet for pool towels later, the group arrived at the neighborhood pool. The sun hung low in the horizon as people spilled out of Phil’s van and began dragging the pool toys and water guns towards the gate.

The air around the black metal bars barring their entrance to the pool seemed to quiver.

“I think Wil has the pool key.” piped Niki in response to Fundy throwing his weight against the fence.

Fundy, in turn, sprinted back to the car, where Wilbur was taking inventory of snacks (and probably hiding the best for himself).

Technoblade looked down at the two younger boys and Y/N conversing in hushed whispers. All of a sudden, they screamed out in perfect synchronization, in equally high pitched voices,

“Let me innnn! Let me in pleaseeee!”

And promptly burst into giggles. Y/N almost toppled into Techno, both from laughing and the slight weariness from the heat.

The pool noodles he was balancing beneath his arms (laden with tote bags of pool toys and towels) toppled to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Y/N’s hand steadying themself on his chest, and the way his face began to heat up almost unbearably considering the weather.

“Oops, sorry!” they squeaked, leaning down to pick up the fallen noodles.

Technoblade was burst out of his daze by the return of his brother and Fundy, who triumphantly swiped the access card against the pad before kicking the gate wide open.

The clang of metal against the concrete pool clubhouse sent reverberating waves into the air, and everyone winced as the metal continued to drag.

Pool entrances varied, Niki, on the one hand, took her time tip-toeing into the water by the stairs, while Tubbo and Tommy almost knocked each other out crashing over the edge to the deep end.

Y/N chuckled at their antics, but seeing as they had settled on not getting wet today, they picked out a chaise in the shade and pulled a book and pen out of the small bag they had brought with them.

Technoblade watched them with almost unwavering interest, unless someone happened to look his way, in which case he would quickly turn back to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his home screen until they turned away.

From his spot under the little roof of the clubhouse, he had an almost unobstructed view of Y/N, and how they chewed at the end of the pen they used to annotate their book. Oh how he wished he could read the little notes they scribbled in the margins, or the drawings they would surround words with when they got distracted from reading. And the way that pen dangled from their lips, their tantalizing, soft lips. Taunting him, almost. And their jewel-like, bright eyes. Always so inviting and playful; like the way they were meeting his right now-

Shit

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring that intently. A small quirk of their eyebrow and a smirk on their lips was enough to make his heart give out. But not now. Not when they were waving their hand so intently to get him to sit next to them. Pretending to ponder the decision and gather his belongings, (when in reality he was just collecting his bearings), he walked over to them.

“See! You don’t always want to be alone, Mr. I’m so antisocial and I hate everyone!” they smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

You’re the only exception, he thought, his brain screaming and pushing to let the words leave his mouth. He couldn’t though, not when they could never think of him the way that he thought of them.

So he answered with a small smile and a chuckle.

“What are you reading?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray! Remember you said you thought I’d enjoy it?” they answered with enthusiasm, that sparkle still evident in their eyes.

It warmed his heart to know that they had taken the suggestion and committed to the book, which was admittedly a pretty tough read, because of him.

“How could I forget?”

Their smile widened and they buried their head back in the book, that cursed pen once again being squished between their plush lips.

Technoblade peered over their shoulder to see that they were nearing the middle of the book, where Dorian returns from his theater date with Basil and Henry. Feeling satisfied enough that they were invested in the story, given their gasp and furious scribbling in the margins, he felt it safe enough to stare at them under the orange-tinged glow of the sunset.

Of course, he forgot about the crowd of his friends who were nudging each other and whispering about his infatuation with you. The whispers reached Wilbur who narrowed his eyes in his twin's direction and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Once dark hit and the water began to run a little too cold for anyone's taste, they began to wrap themselves up in towels and raid Wilburs snack stashes. The snack distribution was cut off by Wilburs phone, screen lit up with a zoomed in photo of none other than Philza.

DADZA!!! Read the contact name as Wilbur swiped the screen and held the phone between his shoulder and ear, continuing to hand out snacks.

“OI, where in fucks sake are you lot? It’s an hour past the devils ass why i…”

The rest of Phil’s screaming faded as Wilbur walked away to calm his father down.

“AN HOUR PAST THE DEVILS ASS” Y/N screamed with laughter, sending the entire group into raucous peals of giggles.

“Yep, mhhm, we’ll be there” Wilbur walked back towards the group, motioning for everyone to get in the car.

“Yes dad I know, yes, okay we will drop him off. Okay, bye” Hanging up the phone, he ushered people back into the car, holding Tubbo back by his upper arm so that he could sit with easiest access to the door.

After dropping Tubbo off, and then doubling back and driving around town to drop people off at various houses, Technoblade, Tommy and Wilbur were alone in the car with Y/N.

“Here. Here. WIL! Pull over!”

The van screeched to a halt as Y/N clambered over Tommy’s long legs, almost falling out onto the pavement. They leaned against the door of the passenger seat, thanking Wilbur and bidding farewell to the brothers. Just before they stepped away, Technoblade leaned down and kissed the crown of their head where it was leaning against his open window. Their stunned expression was lost in the dark and the window slid shut as Wilbur slammed the gas pedal to make it back in time before his dad’s curfew.

“What the fuck was that”

Technoblade gave him a glare, which lost its effectiveness when paired with the burning red blush flooding his face and neck, highlighted under the harsh white lights of the car. He turned his face away and resigned to staring out the window, the night air filtering through the small crack giving his face a little bit of relief.

“Okay at least tell me, are you together?”

“No.”

“But he likes them!” piped up Tommy from the back seat, looking up from his phone where he was playing a game.

“No I- I don’t” Damnit The crack in his voice gave it away.

Wilbur, sensing that it seemed to be more of a sensitive topic than he thought, decided to drop the subject for the time being, and Tommy was already absorbed back in his game.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence as they raced against time and the rules of Philza Minecraft.

AUTUMN----------------------

School started a few weeks after the pool night, which was followed by many late nights and summer fun by the friends, the knowledge that half of them would be away to college next year heavy in the atmosphere. To say the least, Junior year was not treating Y/N well. They were almost always working on homework, if not doing SAT prep, and they rarely went out with their friends. The only time Technoblade got to see them was during his AP Lit class, and because of it, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world. Ms. Ren’s Literature classroom was the only place Technoblade seemed to see the old Y/N, the one from over the summer who got enthusiastic over books and gave him playful punches when he was a little too mean to their friends. Now, the only Y/N he saw was a stressed, tired person who was always carrying an energy drink in one hand and a stack of homework in the other. Except for in Lit. Y/n’s eyes would brighten as they discussed the reading from the previous night and their legs would jostle Technoblades from under their shared table to show him an annotation they had made. Technoblade assumed they were just rejuvenated from the literature, never once letting the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was part of the equation too.

On the rare occasion that they would hang out with their friends, they would be easily prone to tears and every conversation would be redirected to how tired and stressed they were. Of course, Technoblade wanted them to be happy, and felt enormous empathy for his friend in the harshest year of high school, but he had suddenly become hyper-aware that the clock was ticking on his time left with them. He was a senior this year, and while Y/N still had a year left to go, Technoblade would be on his way to college, perhaps out of the country, in less than a year. It wasn’t wrong to want to make the most of his time with them.

It didn’t help that this internal time bomb was also counting down the opportunities he had left to tell them how he felt.

-----

He decided to get to them when they were in a good mood, and more likely to say yes. After Ms. Ren had finished assigning the reading due by Monday, he turned to the beautiful person who sat next to him and muttered in a low voice,

“How’s your weekend looking?”

They looked up with a bright smile and whispered back

“I have tons of homework but I should be able to knock it out with a good day of work. Why? What do you have in mind?”

He knew this was the right time to ask you.

“Just be ready by 4pm on Saturday.”

----

Technoblade sat on the edge of his usually neat bed, now strewn with almost every sweater he owned. He was picking a stray piece of lint from the sweater nearest to him when he saw his brother walk past, then backtrack out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s got you all indecisive?” Wilbur asked, gesturing vaguely to the sweaters and random articles of clothing adorning his room.

“Wait! Is today your date with Y/N?”

“It’s not a date.” grumbled Technoblade.

“Then why are you so stressed about what to wear?” he replied with raised eyebrows.

Technoblade groaned and threw himself on top of the pile of wool on his bed. “I just need this to be perfect. Y/N needs a break, and they deserve everything to be just right.”

“And you want to impress them” sang Wilbur, now nudging Techno aside to sift through his sweaters.

Technoblades noise of indignation was muffled as Wilbur threw a cream colored sweatshirt at his face.

“What about this?”

“I couldn’t find what to wear it with.”

Wilburs sigh rang through Technoblades room as he opened the closet, now in his proper mindset as the family fashion consultant. Garment after garment was thrown in Techno’s general direction, and he leaned and reached to grab them all.

“Try that”

Technoblade walked out of the bathroom to find Wilbur rummaging through his jewelry.

“When did I say it was fine for you to go through my stuff?” asked Technoblade, shoving Wilbur away. Wilbur shrugged in response, motioning for Techno to open his hand so that he could drop his selection of rings and necklaces into his open palm.

As Wilbur walked out the door, he thought he heard a faint “thank you”, and smiled to himself.

-----

“This is elaborate”

“I’m a dynamic man Y/N.”

Y/N laughed at his response to the back seat of Technoblades car, which was filled with “supplies” for the evening.

“That outfit sure is dynamic.”

“Why?” Technoblade asked nervously, drumming slightly on the steering wheel. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! I didn’t think you could get any hotter but you somehow pulled it off!”

Realizing what they said, Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep red and they began to pick at their flannel. As soon as Technoblades surprise wore off, and the butterflies faded back to the dull sensation that always seemed to linger when he was around them, he let out a snort of laughter. That sent both of them into a fit which continued until Technoblade hit a pothole from laughing so hard.

Y/N’s momentary fear only made them laugh harder, but Technoblade attempted to quell himself before he no longer had four functioning tires.

“Do I get to know where you’re taking me?” Y/N asked. They had driven a little ways out from the city, to the vaguely familiar areas that one only drives by when they’re leaving town.

“Yes.” He replied, slowing the car into a small parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

The pair entered the small bookshop and a bell rang overhead. The store smelled of dust and books and Technoblade saw Y/N breathing the scent in like a breath of new life. Of course, this ended up in a small coughing fit which he pulled them out of with a few pats to their upper back.

“Okay we are on somewhat of a schedule, so I need you to go get a book. Any book, and meet me back at the register in 10 minutes.” He said, grabbing them by the shoulders and making direct eye contact. “Okay, Go!”

And they both got lost in the mazes of words.

At 4:30 sharp, Y/N found Technoblade waiting for them at the register with a stiff red hardcover. He reached out for their book as they reached for their wallet.

“Tech, no, you don’t have to buy me books I can get it myself”

If for nothing else, the way they shortened the already shortened version of his name made his heart stutter, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to buy them every book in this store. But he wordlessly nodded his head ‘no’ and paid for their two books.

As they walked back to the car, Y/N admired the way his jewelry glistened in the sun. The gold necklaces contrasting against the black turtleneck he wore under his sweatshirt made them think of the summer, when his rings would shine under the sun and in the light of their almost nightly group bonfire. Technoblade opened the door for them when they got to the car, pink hair flying in his face because of the wind. Before getting in, Y/N threw their arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thanks”

They mumbled into his neck.

He blamed his pink cheeks on the cold.

-----

“Let me carry something!” Y/N argued as Technoblade led them down the path of a park a little ways away from the bookstore.

“No.” he answered, a basket and three bags dangling from his arms.

The argument continued as they made their way down the paved path, leaves crunching underneath their feet. A little ways into the walk, when the conversation had faded to discussing the latest reading assigned by Ms. Ren, Technoblade stopped Y/N by throwing a tote bag-laden arm against their chest.

“Here.”

He parted the branches that covered a small, unpaved path that led deeper into the trees.

“How do I know you’re not trying to lure me here to kill me?” mused Y/N, already a few steps ahead of the pink-haired man on the pine-straw path.

“Yeah hold on, let me just get my axe out from this basket real quick” deadpanned Technoblade, earning a giggle from Y/N.

A few moments later, the path opened up to a clearing with a few fallen logs and a small brook trickling near the edge.

“This is beautiful Tech! How did you find this?” they asked with an awestruck expression.

He hid the way that his ears flushed with his hair and busied himself laying out the picnic supplies he had dragged all the way out here, mumbling something unintelligible.

Once he was done, he looked up to find an empty clearing, Y/N nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” he called

He received a response in the form of a small yelp and a rather loud splash. “Over here!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, sprinting over to the edge of the stream. Their giggles calmed him a little bit, but didn’t absolve him of all his worry as he subtly looked them over for any injuries.

“I thought the rock would be steady enough to hold me” they pouted, gesturing vaguely at the rock in question, now shiny with water.

Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at their antics, but hoisted them up nonetheless. Once they were back on solid ground, he curled his finger around the back of his sweatshirt's neckline and pulled it over his head, almost knocking off his glasses in the process. He missed the way Y/N’s eyes narrowed and focused on the way his black knit turtleneck hugged his figure, tucked into the dark brown trousers Wilbur had dug out of his closet just hours previously.

“Are you warm?” asked Y/N with an incredulous look, teeth slightly chattering.

“It’s for you, dumbass. You’re almost sure to get sick in those wet clothes.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the gesture, and at the way Technoblade shushed them when they tried to argue.

He turned away as Y/N shed their dripping flannel and replaced it with the sweatshirt, warmed by his own body heat.

When he turned back, he almost lost his breath again. Seeing them in his sweatshirt, the sleeves dangling past their fingertips and their hair a little tousled from pulling the garment over their head, messed with him just a little bit. He ignored the way that his cold-nipped nose was turning redder and redder and instead gently picked up their hand to guide them over to where he had set up the picnic, next to a towering tree with a thick trunk.

Both of them were hyper-aware of the way that his fingers held theirs, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from their touch. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but as they plopped down onto the picnic blanket sitting on the ground, their grip fell apart.

The loss of contact made the October day seem colder.

The muffled crunching of the leaves under their butts filled the air as they settled into a comfortable position and began digging through the picnic basket Technoblade had brought with food. The tension in the air slowly faded as they began to eat and the atmosphere filled with the joyous conversation of the two painfully oblivious teenagers.

When they had both finished eating, Technoblade pulled out the bag that he had brought from the bookstore and handed Y/N their book. The smile that graced their lips as they mumbled out another ‘thank you’ brought another wave of butterflies down Technoblades stomach. He pulled out his own book and made himself comfortable against the thick tree trunk behind him. Y/N reached into their back pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, the cap of the pen riddled with chew marks.

The damn pen.

They stuck it between their teeth and let it hang off of the right side of their mouth. Technoblade felt his chest heat up as they nudged him over to share his spot leaning against the tree. He opened his phone and hit play on a mix of Arctic Monkeys and Gang of Youths, before leaning back to where his shoulder was pressed with theirs and opened his book.

Time seemed to forget its rules in this quiet little forest, with just Y/N and Technoblade lost in their separate worlds of words. The peace was only ever disturbed by Y/N occasionally scribbling something down in the margin of their book, to which Technoblade would demand to see, and they would fall into a small discussion about the topic.

These occasions slowly began to wane off until Technoblade felt Y/N lean their head against him with a thud. He looked down to see them fast asleep, half leaning on his shoulder with the pen still clutched between their fingers. He took note of the way the pen was balanced like a cigarette and the small puffs of air following their cold breath resembled smoke. Ignored the way his heart was almost convulsing on itself, he chose to wrap his arm around them and savour the moment.

Because he was aware that before he knew it, it would be over.

WINTER---------------------------

The student media center had a hushed atmosphere to it, as people took advantage of their last afternoon to study for semester finals. Winter break would let out the next day, but for the overwhelmed Juniors and Seniors now crowding the library, the excitement would not set in until they quelled their nervousness over the last final of the semester.

One of the study rooms situated in the back was now crowded with the notorious friend group as they crammed for their last final. Fundy, Jack and Niki were trading around their history notes, Wilbur and Minx were arguing over the proper situation of a unit circle, and Technoblade was flash quizzing Y/N on the Polyatomic ions. Their frantic studying was interrupted by their friend, George, who had gotten bored of watching his two best friends during their last football practice of the semester. He quietly walked in and took a seat in the corner, pulling out a notebook and studying something or the other.

“Why aren't Dream and Sapnap here cramming with us?” Minx asked George.

“They have their ‘weightlifting’ final tomorrow” seethed George, most likely jealous of his friends’ somewhat pointless final.

Everyone laughed, and some groans of similar jealousy rang through the air right before the cracking loudspeaker of the school crunched to life, announcing that the doors would close at 6:00. Y/N looked down at their watch face, which read 5:45.

“Fuck, I’m never going to learn these charges! Don’t even get me started on the fact that I don’t have the solubility rules memorized!” squeaked Y/N in frustration. Everyone gave them a sympathetic look, knowing the rigorous emotional and mental demands of taking AP Chemistry.

“Don’t worry, you still have the whole night to study!” consoled Fundy.

Technoblade felt his heart break at the way their eyes filled with tears of frustration.

“My siblings scream way too much, I can never concentrate at home”

“Come study at our house!” exclaimed Wilbur. “We can kick Tommy out so he won’t bother you!”

Wilbur sensed their hesitation and cut in before they could say ‘no’

“Come on, Dad won’t mind, he loves you! And it gives us an excuse to send Tommy out!”

Y/N turned their head in questioning to Technoblade, who grunted and nodded his head.

“I mean, if you’re sure”

Eager nodding.

“Thanks so much Wil!”

---

It was 11:50 and Phil’s living room resembled something closer to an FBI clue board, with flashcards and chemistry notes strewn on every possible surface. Wilbur had retired to bed after reviewing his Calculus notes one last time, and Tommy was spending the night at Tubbo’s. Phil leaned against the doorway and watched his son coach his best friend through the last few chapters of the textbook with a smile on his face.

“Make sure not to go to sleep too late! You need enough sleep for your final!” he called, retreating up the stairs.

Y/N checked their watch and sighed at the time. “I should get going soon.” they mumbled, beginning to collect their notes.

“Stay the night” suggested Technoblade, pulling a blanket over their shoulders to protect them from the December chill that seemed ever-present, even with the crackling fireplace illuminating the room.

“I can’t-” A yawn cut their sentence “I can’t stay, I don't have anything and I’ve wasted enough of your time already”

Technoblade took them by the shoulders and looked them in the eyes, albeit having to lean down. “You can never waste my time”

Shivers ran through Y/N’s tired body and they offered him a weak smile.

He plucked the pen that was hanging from their mouth out and feigned disgust as he wiped it on their shirt, before throwing it in the pile of stationary by his feet.

“How about you stay for a hot chocolate?”

The invitation was too hard to resist so they gave in, as long as it was “only ten more minutes”.

Technoblade filled two mugs from the pot of the beverage that Phil had left on the stove, and topped it with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Y/N took the mug from him with a ‘thank you!’, and led the way back to the living room to nestle under the warmth of the fireplace. The pair were both exhausted from the day of studying, and chose to sip their beverages in silence. Before either of them knew it, they were both asleep under Y/N’s blanket, cuddled up against the cold of the night.

---

They woke up to the banging of Wilbur running down the stairs.

“Shit, you two are still asleep?”

Y/N jumped up, knocking over their empty mug in the process. “Fuck, what time is it?” they asked, urgently rummaging around for their bag.

“8:00”

“What time is your final?” grumbled Technoblade, still half-asleep with no intention to get up until his final later that day.

“8:20” they whined, almost breaking down.

“Hey, it’s fine, go get clothes from my room, take anything you want. I’ll drive you.” said Technoblade in a calming voice.

Y/N looked at him with desperate eyes and thanked him before retracing the familiar path to his bedroom.

Technoblade cracked his back and followed Wilbur into the kitchen, intending to make Y/N a nutritious breakfast and pack them a lunch, but was met with Wilburs smirking face.

“What’s the deal?” said Technoblade in his monotonous low, pulling things from out of the fridge.

“Are we going to ignore that you and Y/N slept together?”

“Gross you perv, we just fell asleep studying”

Wilburs smart-ass response was cut off by the arrival of the person in question, clad in one of Technoblades sweaters and sweatpants and ripping their fingers through their hair to attempt to tame it.

Technoblade ignored the all-too-familiar flutter of his heart at seeing them in his clothes and handed them a yogurt bowl he put together. “Let’s go, you can eat it in the car.”

They definitely broke laws driving at breakneck speed, but they pulled into the school parking lot at 8:15 and jumped out of the car, Technoblade following them to make sure they made it to the Chemistry classroom on time. With a minute and a half to spare, they arrived at the door to the classroom, earning a sigh of relief from both of them.

Dr. Yachtrong ushered Y/N into the classroom, but not before Technoblade placed a kiss on their forehead and wished them good luck. They entered the classroom in a daze, which they quickly shook off when the tests were passed out.

---

The final bell rang for the day and the cheers rang around the school, drowning out the crunchy loudspeaker announcements to “have a good Christmas” and to “make good decisions”. Y/N had headed off to their last few classes following the Chemistry final, which had gone as good as one could expect a Chemistry exam to go. They were fairly sure they had passed which at this point, was a major win. As they left the History hallway, they saw their friend Karl leaving the art classroom.

“Karl!” they waved him down.

“HEY! Y/N!!!” he giggled excitedly “Schools out!”

“I know!”

Excited chatter filled the hallways and they bumped into Sapnap, Punz, and Dream leaving the weights room.

“How was your weightlifting final?” snickered Y/N

Punz answered with a slight push to their head. The group was shot out at the front courtyard, where almost all of their other friends were waiting.

The celebratory mood was punctuated by Karl inviting everyone over for an “Epic School Sucks Party” at his house later that night.

Y/N looked around, searching for the pink-haired man that had been flooding their thoughts more than usual lately.

He had been acting differently, nervous even, since the day they fell asleep on him at the park. Y/N was only scared last night's incident would make it worse.

“He’s probably finishing up his Latin stuff” murmured Wilbur, leaning down to their ear.

Y/N’s ears burnt a bright red upon knowing that Wilbur knew who they were looking for. They looked up to answer, but he had already gotten immersed in a conversation with Quackity and George.

The man in question came out of the front doors of the building and made a beeline for their cluster of people upon seeing them. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the cuffs he wore on his slightly pointed ears, and the way his long pink hair fell behind his-

“Oi Y/N is that Technoblades sweater?”

Screw you Minx

“Y/N spent a surprise night over last night” snickered Wilbur, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It's. Not. Like. That.” screeched Y/N, punctuating each word with a smack to Wilbur, somewhat drowned in the laughs and gasps of everyone in their group.

“Why are we hitting Wilbur and can I join?” asked Technoblade once he integrated himself into the tangle of people. The laughs hushed as everyone turned to look between Y/N and Technoblade.

“What?”

-----

The heat of Niki’s curling iron sent warm shivers down Y/N’s neck, a grateful contrast to the harsh December chill plaguing the outdoors. She blew gently on the warm hair before letting it all fall back, tousling it to break up the curls.

“Thanks Niki!” said Y/N gratefully, examining themselves in the mirror. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do this someday.”

Niki laughed, already standing in front of the bathroom mirror to apply her eyeliner. With one eye closed, she spoke to the person now standing behind her, checking their outfit from different angles.

“So really, what’s going on between you and Technoblade?”

She knew of their intense crush on the pink-haired boy, which had started somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year, but she also knew that Y/N tended to be more closed off about their deep personal life.

Y/N sighed, almost in disappointment. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”

Due to Niki’s sympathetic look thrown their way, they fell down a rabbit hole of ranting which led them to where they were now; on the floor beside Niki’s bed with Y/N’s head in her lap.

“He always acts so weird around me. One minute he’s holding my hand or kissing my forehead, and the next he won't even look at me, or only answers in short sentences. And it stresses me out because I think he hates me, but then he does shit like buying me books just to go read in a forest with him, or staying up all night with me to study for my Chemistry final, and I just-” They took a deep breath, containing their rambling.

“I just get more confused.”

----------

Karls party was in full swing by the time Niki and Y/N got there. They were met at the door by Sapnap and Quackity, who for some reason were handcuffed to each other, and were both giggling and flushed. Y/N and Niki hung their coats on the rack by the door and walked into the festive atmosphere of the house, seeing familiar faces in every corner.

Despite the rowdy environment and the deafening noise, the party was relatively small, consisting of only 20 or so of Karls friends.

They followed Quackity and Sapnap into the living room where a semi-circle of people was lounging on various couches, passing around a blunt and playing what seemed to be truth or dare.

Ah. That’s where the handcuffs came from.

Niki and Y/N decided to play, Niki offering to go fetch them both drinks in the kitchen as Y/N found their place in the circle. To their surprise, Technoblade was there, seemingly uninterested in the game and more invested in something he was doing on his phone. Upon seeing Y/N, he gave them a smile, cheeks flushed with alcohol, and gestured to the small spot between him and the couch armrest. All eyes followed Y/N as they perched on the armrest, mumbling a small ‘hi!’ to Technoblade.

Niki returned with two drinks in hand and shared a knowing glance with Y/N, as well as a miniscule smile, before handing them their drink and taking a seat on a cushion next to Jack and Minx.

“Okay okay, In honor of our new guests arriving, Y/N, truth or dare?”

Y/N knew by the looks everyone was giving them that choosing truth would not be the best option.

“Dare.”

A small sigh of disappointment left Karls lips before a mischievous light came into his eyes and he perked up again. “I dare you to sit in Technoblade’s lap”

Snickers echoed across the group as Technoblade looked up at the sound of his name. He looked up to where Y/N was balancing themself on the edge of the couch, and with some burst of courage, that was probably induced by the alcohol, he wrapped his arm around their waist to tug them into his lap with a squeak of surprise.

After recovering from their initial embarrassment, Y/N turned to the man whose lap they were in. “Techno, truth or dare?”

He huffed but quietly breathed out “Truth”, suddenly very aware of how close their face was to his. After a few brief seconds of eye contact which seemed to last an eternity, they stuttered out

“Umm, do you,- actually, how did, how did they get you to play? This game... I mean?”

“BOO! WHAT A BORING FOOKIN QUESTION!” called Minx from the cushion she was on.

His response of how he didn’t mean to get dragged in to this “stupid middle schoolers game” was slightly slurred as he took a big chug of whatever liquid was floating around his red solo cup.

This worried Y/N. They never saw Technoblade drink more than enough to get him slightly tipsy, but they brushed it off on end-of-the-semester excitement. In any case, they would confront him when they got the opportunity to talk to him alone.

---

Said opportunity arose after the Pizza arrived, and most people began to file into Karls movie room to watch whatever garbage show he decided on running. Y/N stayed back, intending to have full access to the pizza and Technoblade, noticing this, stayed with them. Y/N hopped up onto a counter and pulled the pizza boxes to them.

“Hey Tech?”

“Heh?”

“Are you okay? I haven't seen you drink this much before?” they asked, running a concerned hand through his hair before pressing it to his forehead to check how hot he was.

His eyes closed and he nuzzled into their touch.

“I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about? It’s winter break” they answered, a small smile on their beautiful face.

This was his chance.

“I have to start applying for colleges.”

Fuck, he missed it.

-----

The food brought a new bought of energy to everyone at the party, and by 3 in the morning, the celebration was still heavy in the air. Everyone thanked whatever brought Karl’s parents to buy a house far removed from any close neighborhoods, so the noise wouldn’t earn them a police visit.

Loud music blared from the speakers in the living room, which had been cleared of furniture to make space for the energetic teenagers.

Y/N took turns dancing with Niki, Minx, and Jack before being stolen away by Sapnap who spun them around until they almost threw up. Eventually, Y/N ended up on the outskirts of the dancefloor, where they saw their favorite apathetic pig-boy leaning against a corner, snickering at everyone who was embarrassing themselves in their drunken haze.

“WANNA DANCE?” asked Y/N leaning towards him to enunciate over the music.

How could he say no? When they were looking up at him with those big, bright eyes and a slight sheen of sweat over their face.

-----

The party began to dissipate nearing the hours of dawn. Around 5, people began trickling out. Except for the select few who had decided to just crash with Karl.

Technoblade and Wilbur parked a little ways away from their house, walking the rest of the way and ushering each other up the tree by Wilburs bedroom to sneak back in.

It was locked.

“You dimwit, didn’t you unlock the window?”

“Of course I did you arse, where do you think I snuck out from?”

Their bickering was interrupted by a small tap on the glass by none other than a smirking Tommy.

“Leave it to him to only wake up when he wants to annoy us”

“Tommy, let us in.”

Tommy made a rubbing motion with his index finger and thumb. Looking at Wilbur and sighing, Technoblade pulled his wallet out and held up a 10.

Tommy made a ‘more’ motion

20. Then 40. Then 50.

“So generous of you lads, come on in!” he giggled, snatching the money from his brother and leaving the window open for the two to clamber in awkwardly.

Technoblade snuck back into his room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling onto the mattress. Before he blacked out, he saw two notifications come in.

BitchBur: I took these pictures tn, thought u might want them ;) (8 images attached)

And

Y/N <3: I hope you figure out the college situation! <3 let me know if you can hang out sometime :D

He opened Wilburs text to find a collection of candid pictures Wilbur had snapped over the course of the night. One of Y/N in his lap, a few of them laughing together over pizza, a few of them on the dance floor, and what had to be his favorite: a picture of them kissing his cheek as a ‘good luck’ for his arm wrestle with Dream.

A smile creeped onto his face and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his brother. He set the last picture as his wallpaper before turning off his phone and falling into a realm of blackness.

SPRING------------------

“That was my very last AP Exam!” exclaimed Y/N, walking through the door of the coffee house where all their friends were lounging.

The small shop erupted with cheers as they celebrated everyone finishing their school year. The cheers eventually died out, though, as the realization sunk in. Tomorrow was graduation.

The seniors in the group, Wilbur, Technoblade, Minx and Fundy were all going off to college.

Wilbur to England, Fundy to the Netherlands, and Minx to Ireland. The one person who hadn’t decided on a college yet was Technoblade.

“Why do you all have to leave the country?” whined Y/N.

A chorus of similar sentiments left the other juniors who were scattered around a few tables that had been pushed together.

As the conversation descended into dorms and expenses, Y/N received a text from Technoblade. The shock of the ‘ding’ made the pen that had been balancing between their lips clatter onto the floor.

Apathetic pig-boy: come outside

Y/N looked around, not having noticed that Technoblade had disappeared from the table. Taking advantage of the conversation everyone else was immersed in, they quietly snuck out, but not without avoiding Wilburs keen eyes, which narrowed upon realizing his brother was not at the table.

They wandered outside, finding Technoblade sitting at one of the outdoor tables covered by the awning.

“My Yale email came in.” he said as soon as he saw them walk outside.

They jumped with barely contained joy. “What did it say?”

“I wanted you to be here when I opened it.”

Everyone knew that Technoblades dream college was Yale. He had talked about it ever since he was a little kid, screaming about Greek mythology on the school playground. Y/N knew that it was Technoblades biggest ambition to study literature at one of the most renowned colleges in the world, but they still felt a twinge of sadness. On top of losing half their friends, they couldn’t lose the one person that meant the most to them too.

“Open it!”

Y/N leaned against the back of Technoblades chair, almost falling over his shoulder as they watched the loading icon on the college’s website.

Technoblade clicked on the notification and they both read it together

Congratulations! We are glad to inform you…

“THAT YALE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO ACCEPT YOUR APPLICATION! TECH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Screamed Y/N, wrapping their arms around his shocked figure. They placed a million kisses all over his face, gushing about how proud they were of him, ignoring the gut wrenching feeling inside of them.

“What’s the screaming about? Did you two finally get together?” Asked Wilbur as the group flooded out of the coffee shop to see what the commotion was about.

“Yale accepted me.” mumbled Technoblade, just loud enough for them to hear.

The cheers that followed his announcement almost made their small hometown collapse. Congratulations were exchanged and backs were pat, and in the mess, Y/N managed to sneak off to the side. The only person who noticed was Niki, who followed them to the corner of the parking lot where they were kicking at the asphalt with their converse. She sat down, and the two rested in silence, the April wind blowing their hair all over the place.

“He’s leaving.” He’s leaving me. They wanted to say, but they didn't.

Niki gave her friend a small side hug, somehow interpreting the sentence accurately. “He’s pursuing his dreams Y/N, you know he doesn’t want to leave you.”

“How do I make him stay? It’s selfish and I’d feel like a bitch but Niki I don’t think I can live without him.”

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You need to tell him how you feel.”

----

The next day brought sunny skies and the enthusiastic atmosphere of graduation. They had all managed to snag themselves some graduation tickets to see their friends finish high school.

Jack, Niki, and Y/N were sitting in a Wendy’s parking lot, waiting for the clock to hit 11:45 so they could start making their way to school. It seemed empty without the Seniors of the group, as they were all at school getting ready for the ceremony. Y/N voiced this concern aloud, to which Jack responded, “We’ll have to get used to it. This is how it’s going to be next year.”

And the three fell into silence, sullenly dipping their fries into their frostys.

----

Jack, Niki, and Y/N let themselves be jostled into school with the crowds of emotional parents and kids who were already bored of the event. They found decent seats, near the front aisle and set their belongings down.

Not a moment later, they were greeted by Philza, who filed in with the rest of the boys extended family to sit beside them.

The dimming of the lights led to hushed whispers erupting from the previously rowdy crowd.

Procedure came and went, the salutatorian and valedictorian giving their respective addresses to the crowd, the speech of the somewhat bored principal, and finally,

“Without further ado, presenting the Graduating Class of 2021!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd as names began to be called.

Within the first five minutes, the boredom began to set in and Jack began a game pigeon game, which Phil demanded to be added to. The four played the digital card game until they were pulled out of their concentration by a familiar name being called. They erupted into cheers as Fundy walked across the stage to pick up his diploma and shake the Principal’s hand. The process was repeated until Minx, her eyes shining as she shook the principal's hand earnestly, then flipped him off quickly behind his back, which sent the auditorium into a fit of laughter.

Person after person was called up, until...

“Technoblade Minecraft”

Philza almost cried. He stood on his chair, screaming in excitement for his son which made the boy in question flush as he collected his diploma and took a rather rushed leave off the stage, but not before seeing the heart that Y/N made with their fingers in his direction.

The same general act happened during Wilburs announcement, except that he laughed and gave his dad a cheering motion with his hands.

---

The group spilled out onto the lawn of the school, congratulating people they knew when they saw them. Technoblade and Wilbur joined their family, receiving hugs from a very emotional Tommy. Y/N, Niki, and Jack waited behind for their friends to finish up with their families before tackling them in hugs. Screams and whoops came from the puddle of people on the floor, everyone yelling things to each other. The atmosphere was charged with happiness, and relief, and one couldn’t help but feel elation despite the bittersweet nature of graduation.

“Alright mates, party at my house!” boomed Philza over the noise.

The infamous graduation party. They had planned the two-part party in middle school, when they had had their first sleepover at the group's “hub”, aka Philza’s house. Since then, the party had become a reality and the first part would be executed tonight. The next being, of course, when the remaining half of the group graduated.

A marquis was set up in Phil’s garden, now uncluttered and full of spring blossoms. It was such a different atmosphere than it had been last summer, when their bonfires would stretch out into the early hours of the morning.

Food laden tables were scattered around the marquis, and to everyone's delight, a chocolate fountain rested on one of them.

After collecting food and gifts from various guests, the group found themselves sitting under the shade of a large tree with a rickety old treehouse balancing on it, which Tommy and Tubbo were attempting to devise a plan to get into with the help of their friend Ranboo, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the idea as the others.

“My flight leaves next week.” sighed Minx, leaning against Niki’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out of here by July the latest”

“Phil’s taking us to London next week and I’ll just be staying”

Everyone turned to Technoblade to reveal when he would be leaving for college.

“I’m going to Connecticut a week before the beginning of the term”

“So how long will you be home this summer?” Y/N asked, setting down their cookie.

“Between travelling and dorm set-up, I’ll probably only be here for about two weeks total.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as they pushed their head into Technoblades chest.

“I just-” sniffle “I just can’t believe you’re all leaving!” they cried, muffled by Technoblades button down.

This sent everyone into a fit of tears as they all began hugging each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The moment was interrupted by Phil, who came out of the house with a camera and various props. Encouraging everyone to gather around and take pictures. Everyone scuffled around to fix their disheveled appearances and began making their way to Phils makeshift photo booth.

“Tech- wait!” called Y/N, pulling him back by the forearm. “Your hair”

They put pressure on his shoulders to get him to lean down so that they could fix his stray hairs.

Right then, looking at the way Y/N’s shoes sank into the ground and feeling their light touch in his hair, he decided. I have to tell them. This is my last chance.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I-” deep breaths, “I need you to-”

“Come on, lovebirds get in the picture!” called Phil, walking over to drag them to where everyone else was.

Y/N gave him an apologetic look, woven with the silent promise of later.

Damnit Dad.

----

The pictures had lasted what felt like eons, but between the corny props and the harsh afternoon sunlight, they held valuable memories.

But Technoblade had no interest in them at the moment, as he dragged Y/N behind the trunk of the tree they had sat at before.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves made Y/N’s face all that much more beautiful, and Technoblade struggled to tear his attention away to focus on telling them. He gathered up his courage and opened his mouth to speak.

But the only thing that came out was “OW!��

As a pinecone bonked off his head and rolled away on the ground, leaving chips of it in his hair.

“Look out below!” Called Tubbo from somewhere above them. So they managed to get in. Damnit.

Y/N took his hand and led him to the other side of the tree, away from the boys’ field of destruction. They sat down gently, pulling Technoblade down with them to pluck the pieces of pinecone out of his hair.

“Here. Distraction free! Now tell me what you’ve been trying to say because there’s something I need to tell you too.”

That gave Technoblade the perfect opportunity to gather his nerves. “You go first”

“No, it’s fine you!”

“No you go!”

It seemed as if the stars had collided and sent out particles so many eons ago with the knowledge that everything would lead up to these two kids coming to the same conclusion at the same time.

“I love you”

Their eyes met as they stared, wide-eyed and gaping-mouthed at each other. Overcoming the initial shock, they began to ramble.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way because you always got quiet around me and then you woul-”

“Can I kiss you?” Technoblade interrupted them, not really hearing their rambling through the buzz going through his brain.

They nodded shyly in response as he wrapped his hand around the back of their neck to pull them dizzyingly, tauntingly closer. He looked into their eyes one more time to make sure they were serious, but Y/N was already closing the gap between their lips. They hoisted themselves into his lap and gripped his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

But alas, in this group of people, nothing goes unnoticed or undisturbed.

“EW! TECHNO’S KISSING Y/N!” screamed Tommy from the balcony of the treehouse which resulted in whoops and cheers from everyone at the party.

“FINALLY!” yelled someone amongst the crowd.

Y/N felt their ears burn a bright red as they buried their face into Techno’s neck.

“Yeah Y/N! Get some!”

“Oh fuck off!”

A/N: i hope u guys liked it :D, also this is my first time writing with they/them pronouns so if i made a mistake pls don’t hesitate to correct me!

#c!techno #technoblade #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #technoblade fluff #technofluff

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago

Text

Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.”

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician

(let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from this list!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #imagine spencer reid #criminal minds x you #imagine criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #pls like this it took me so long

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random-imagines-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Just in Your Heart {Taylor Swift x ChubbyMale!Reader}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 2114 Summary: After five years of dating, you’re finally thinking of making it social-media official. Warnings: Fat shaming.

You weren’t the sort of person that most people would picture Miss Americana herself to date. Taylor Swift had gone out with some of the best looking, or at least according to the media’s standards best looking - men in the world. You didn’t need to go over them. The tabloids did that enough for you on a daily basis. But the point was that you were the opposite of a lot of these men. You weren’t in the entertainment industry. You weren’t rich. You weren’t famous. You didn’t have a six pack or a chiseled chest or that rugged jaw line or any of those things. You had worked your way up to being a curator at a Museum in New York - not one of the biggest ones, mind you, but big enough to where you always had a lot on your plate. You were overweight according to your doctor though you ate healthy and tried to get lots of exercise. And you had next to no social media presence, only followed by your friends and family - not even Taylor as for the most part, you both agreed on keeping you out of the spotlight, much as that sometimes hurt. But then again - you both had been together for five years now, and you weren’t being picked apart by the media. That was nice.

“Do you think that this is folded in enough? I always think of that scene in Sleeping Beauty where they actually fold them in,” Taylor laughed, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you had stopped at the grocery store to get the ingredients for baking night, you of course had seen Taylor on the magazines. Stepping out with new ‘mystery man’ it had reported. It was only her new bodyguard and would be forgotten in a week or so but it was still a bit annoying to be surrounded by rumors of your own girlfriend.

“Yeah, that looks good babe,” You’d say, looking into her bowl. It was cake night in your shared apartment. The whole quarantine thing had the both of you at home a lot more, though you did still have to go to work, so you were trying new hobbies. Baking had been Taylor’s idea, and it was something you had shot down at first considering your weight, but she was so insistant. She had given you those puppy dog eyes you couldn’t resist. Those baby blues had you saying yes every time. “No shells this time?”

“Oh my god, it was one time, let it go,” Taylor laughed, going for the next couple of ingredients. “I don’t think that you put enough chocolate in yours.”

“It’s a light chocolate cake, not a Devil’s Food Cake. I’m still watching my weight, remember?” You kept on whipping the eggs until they were light and fluffy, and then finally folded your own into the rest of the mixture. “This will probably be my lunch tomorrow,” You joked.

“I’ll make you something, don’t worry,” She said, putting a kiss on your cheek, transferring a bit of flour that she had on her nose onto your skin. You laughed and wiped it off. “What were you thinking about?”

“Saw you on the cover of another magazine today,” You said, slipping behind her, taking the chance to run your hands across her waist as you went to grab one of the cake pans you already prepped. “They’re thinking that Greg is your new boyfriend. It’s really throwing them off that you’re not out there dating openly anymore.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious. I’m sure his wife is going to love that,” Taylor laughed, not taking it seriously. Being in the industry since she was a teenager meant that she had to develop that tough skin. You loved that about her. You only wished that you had been able to do that yourself. “Oh, let’s take a picture before we pop these into the oven.”

Always the change of subject. But you gave in, as you always did, giving her a little nod. She pulled out her phone, turned the front camera on, and snapped a picture of her kissing your cheek while the full cake pans were waiting on the counter. You were grinning, you couldn’t help it. Every time that this wonderful, beautiful woman gave you attention, you were fawning for it. You couldn’t wait to make her your wife. Just a little longer. Just getting the ring sized.

And then the pans went into the oven, and you settled back down on the couch, looking for something to watch while waiting for the timers. Taylor went straight to Law and Order. Of course. You even bobbed your head to the theme tune. Her favorite show in the whole world. She cuddled up to you, hand and head resting on your barrel-like chest. When she touched you like this, it was hard to feel insecure. And the way that she looked up at you whenever the screen went dark between scenes - still made you feel like blushing to this day.

Once the timer went off, cake out of the oven, it was the only part of this whole baking thing that you really enjoyed. Decorating. Tongue in cheek, going over the layers with the icing that you had managed to make look tie-dye with different colors. “What do you think, fruit maybe? Some whipped cream?” You looked over to see what she was doing, only to see that she was literally throwing sprinkles on top of the icing. Making a huge mess, but it was cute to see her looking so joyous.

“Whatever you want,” She’d say, bending low, turning the plate to see the other side of the cake, and then threw even more sprinkles. One thing could be said for her method - she was thorough. There was hardly an inch on it that was untouched. You looked back at your own which was looking plain in comparison, and started chopping up some fruit to put on the top. At least give some semblance of it being healthy. That way you wouldn’t feel as guilty when you went to the doctor next and explained what you’ve been eating. “I can’t wait to try yours,” Taylor said, sticking a finger in your spare icing and dabbed some of it on the tip of your nose with a giggle. Her eyes were lit up from the inside out. She looked happy. Truly happy. “Can we take another photo?”

“Can I at least get this off of my nose first?” You laughed. She shook her head no, and this time in the photo, she was licking it right off of you, the cakes on full display in front of you. Your face was scrunched up from the attention on your nose, which made her laugh when she saw it.

“This is really cute. I might even post it,” She teased, tongue in cheek.

“Doubtful,” You chuckled, and grabbed a knife to make the first cuts.

“No, really,” She said, leaning against the counter, looking at the picture on her phone. “We’ve been together five years now and I haven’t really been able to tell anyone but our close friends and family.”

“Does anyone else matter?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone that I care about knows about you. Why does the whole world?”

“I just - I don’t want you to feel like I’m ashamed of you when I’m not. I’d love to start posting pictures of us, like normal couples do.”

“We’re not a normal couple,” You pointed out. She was pouting again, but this time it didn’t look like she was trying to get what she wanted. She looked genuinely upset. You watched her for a minute as she dropped a couple more sprinkles on spots that she missed, trying to keep her hands busy. “Okay. Fine. You can post one tomorrow if you really want. But can we just relax tonight?”

“Okay,” She said, tucking a long blonde piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. She looked happy again. And that’s the way that you wanted to keep her forever.

Your phone was left in your office for most of the day while you were working on the usual day-to-day activities of the museum. You had forgotten your little agreement with Taylor the night before, having settled back in for a night of watching Olivia Benson on the television solving cases.

So when you finally had a chance to sit down and look at your phone, you were surprised to see that it was dead. You plugged it into your spare charger only for it to turn on and have hundreds - maybe even more notifications. You had to quickly go into your settings and try to turn them off so that you could have a breath. That was when you remembered, and immediately opened up instagram. 2.6 million follow requests. Jesus. At least your account was on private, who knows what they would have done if they had been able to go thorugh your photos and comment on them.

You’d leave those for another time to deal with. The next time that you were taking the subway and had nothing else better to do. But for now, you went to Taylor’s profile, where you were one of her millions of followers, never anything special until now. The two pictures from the night before, kissing and silly icing on your nose. ‘#bakingwithboyfriend.’

Over three million likes. Comments galore. And most of them were not of the nice and supportive kind.

‘Oh my god, is this some body positivity stunt?’ 'This is literally like three of her exes put together, weightwise. ‘ 'Must be really rich or have great dick’

There were other ones that were much more rude, but you weren’t going to go through them. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. You put the phone back down, face down so that you wouldn’t have to look at it, or at the very least be a lot less tempted.

“Mr y/l/n,” Your assistant said, poking his head into the office. His face was looking flushed, so that already gave you an idea of what was going on. He already knew about your relationship, but that didn’t stop him from having fan-boy moments whenever Taylor came in. “She’s here to see you.”

“She can come in,” You said with a nod. He popped his head back out and the tall, lithe figure of Taylor, as dressed down as she could be, walked into the stuffy room. She smiled nervously and sat down across from you in the spot where donors or assistants usually would sit.

“You saw those comments, didn’t you?” Taylor said. You simply nodded. “I already talked to my publicist and we’re going to be taking comments off all of my posts. It isn’t right. Any of it.”

“Can’t say that it wasn’t expected though,” You admitted, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not Styles or Hiddleston.”

“That’s why I love you,” Taylor insisted. “You’re not any of those men, you’re you. They’ve got nothing, nothing at all, on you.”

“But I’m apparently three of them,” You laughed humorlessly. “Look, I knew what I was getting into by falling in love with you. I can accept it. Just sucks that the day had come after all.”

Taylor was quiet for a moment, but then she leaned forward over the desk, and took hold of your hands, giving them a squeeze with her well manicured fingers. “You’re everything to me, y/n. And I just want to show you that. I want to show the whole world that.”

“I know. I know,” You breathed out with a sigh. “Were any of the comments good?”

“Selena is going apeshit in the comments. Or at least she was while I was on the way here. Threatening to fight some of the people saying the worst things but I already deleted most of the really bad ones. I have my publicist on it. Some of them were really positive though. You’re really handsome. Some of them are threatening to come after you when we break up.”

“Ha, like that’s ever going to happen,” You said, shaking your head. “You’re it for me, baby.”

“You’re it for me too,” Taylor said, raising your hands up to kiss the tops of them. Your unmusical hands. “So - are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll get over it. I guess. More incentive to go to the gym maybe. Gotta show your millions of fans that you can still get a buff guy after all.”

“Don’t change yourself too much,” She’d say, smiling. “You’re perfect. Completely and utterly ... perfect.”

#Taylor Swift #Taylor Swift x reader #Taylor Swift oneshot #celebrity #celebrity oneshot #onreshot #one shot #request #x reader #taylors

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Note

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting.

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition.

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something.

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus.

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold.

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?”

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket.

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?”

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy.

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier.

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him.

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?”

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before.

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes.

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare.

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks.

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus.

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice.

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,” Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked.

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs.

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound.

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly.

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping.

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark.

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead.

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it?

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

#geraskier #bouncey's buddies #prompt fill #geraskier fic #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fluff #getting together #boyband au #geraskier boyband au #the witcher five and their hit song 'please lambert stop farting on the bus'#ellie has the braincell #thirsty jaskier #thirsty geralt #soft geralt #protective geralt #clumsy jaskier #soft boys content #bouncey's endless au collection #bouncey's endless getting together fics

244 notes · View notes

fific7 · 3 years ago

Text

Cold Day in Hell - Part 3

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos. (Song mentioned is ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(My GIF)

You lifted Logan’s arm off you and scooted out of the bed at the speed of light, and stood beside it looking down at him. He, meanwhile, had stretched himself out like a big cat right across the bed and was grinning lazily up at you.

“Awww, sweetheart - you spoiled my fun!”

Turning on your heel, saying nothing, you headed to the bathroom and locked the door. You hopped into the shower, praying that he’d have taken the hint and left by the time you emerged. Taking your time, you blow-dried your hair a little and smoothed on the expensive, famous brand body lotion provided by the hotel. Wrapping yourself in one of the hotel’s fluffy bathrobes and picking up your clothes, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and walked into the room.

Logan was still on the bed. In fact, he was now in the bed and had pulled the covers over himself up to his waist, his clothes in a pile on the floor. All of his clothes.

His head turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours and he folded his arms across his bare chest. “You’ve been ages in there, sweetheart. And I needta use the restroom so badly!” He dramatically threw back the bedcovers and you turned away like a flash, squeezing your eyes closed before you got an eyeful.

You felt soft huffs of breath on your neck and Logan whispered, “Oh good, you’re naked too. Well, underneath that robe you are.” You felt long fingers slowly moving the neckline of your robe aside and you clutched at the fabric, pulling it tightly closed. “Logan…. will you please just fuck off!” The fingers left your robe and you heard a deep chuckle, “I’ll only be a few minutes, darlin’, then we can continue this conversation back in bed.”

A thought quickly whizzed through your brain that you’d just told your company’s biggest client to fuck off, but really - he was too much.

The second you heard the bathroom door close, you raced to the wardrobe and pulled out the skirt and blouse you’d decided to wear that day. Grabbing your lingerie, you got dressed in record time and were just doing up the last of your blouse buttons when you heard the door opening again, and quickly shut your eyes again in anticipation of a naked Logan appearing in front of you.

“Ohh, really? You got dressed? It’s too early for that, sweetheart - it’s only 5 am. Take ‘em off and we’ll go back to bed,” you heard, his voice seductive. “Absolutely not, Logan,” you snapped back, “and put your damn clothes back on!”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, “Oh my, you are absolutely no fun at all!” Trying to move away from him, eyes still closed, you came in contact with a toned torso and leapt back from him as if you’d been burned. You banged into the table behind you and a pair of arms instantly went round you. “Careful, angel.” You tried to shove away from him and made the mistake of opening your eyes. Logan tightened his hold on you and his dark espresso eyes were gazing into yours. You didn’t look down but he was pressing his very healthy erection against your lower abdomen and he leant in towards you, lips millimetres away from yours.

Suddenly, you realised you’d parted your lips slightly in anticipation of him kissing you. But he released you, turning quickly away (you trying not to look at that tight ass, really trying) and heading back to his clothes pile. He grabbed them up and headed into the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t mind if I use your shower, angel, do you?” The door closed behind him.

Relieved, you thought, ‘Well, I think I managed to handle that okay. Didn’t I?” You weren’t absolutely sure that you had, but whatever.

You settled back in one of the chairs and switched on the TV. Busy channel-hopping to find something worth your attention, you suddenly heard a loud guttural moan issuing forth from the man in the bathroom.

Okayyyy, well… that sounded like he’d managed to handle it himself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was under the shower, vigorously soaping his body and humming a tune as he did so. It didn’t take too long for his hand to stray down onto his erection and he began stroking. Soon, he leant back against the tiled shower wall as he increased his pace, firmly pulling and squeezing his length before he came with a loud groan. Hope she heard that, he grinned to himself.

The first part of his plan hadn’t gone too badly. He’d got a lot closer to her already but this was him just getting into his stride. He was well aware he had to be careful not to overstep, but… he’d seen the way her lips had parted when she thought he was going to kiss her, so he was going to continue tiptoeing up to the line before stepping quickly back. He had a gut feeling that was the way to go.

He’d make her beg him for it before he was finished.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

As you gathered up your spare handouts and the rest of your stuff at the end of the first investor meeting, you had to admit that you and Logan had worked extremely well together. Neither of you had rehearsed how to approach the meetings past what information you were going to cover, but you’d ended up being a bit of a double act. In fact the two of you had received a round of applause at the end of it.

Logan strolled round the conference table to stand next to you and looking up at him, yet again his sheer magnetism made you catch your breath. You looked down quickly, packing the remaining folders away into your document bag. “That went really well, you were fabulous.” “Thanks Logan, so were you.” As you met his gaze again, he smirked, “Well, I keep trying to show you just how fabulous I am, but you keep shutting me down.”

You opened your mouth to reply but he said quickly, “Just have dinner with me.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was feeling very happy with himself. She’d agreed to have dinner with him albeit reluctantly, and he was back in the shower, working shampoo through his hair before rinsing it out and enthusiastically shaking his head to and fro. He started singing “I Knew You Were Trouble”, lovingly stroking and winking at his resting manhood before pouring a generous amount of shower gel into his hand and rubbing it over his body.

Strings pulled, he’d managed to get a table at SkyCity, and he had a really good feeling about tonight. Once she saw the view from the top of the Space Needle and had sipped a few glasses of premium champagne, surely he could charm her into his bed? With a confident spring in his step, he dried himself with one of the big fluffy towels, still singing.

“'𝒞𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃

𝒮𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝐼'𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃

'𝒯𝒾𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃, 𝑜𝒽

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃

𝒮𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝐼'𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓂 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

𝒪𝒽, 𝑜𝒽, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒

𝒪𝒽, 𝑜𝒽, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Laying back in the bath, you swirled your fingers through the fragrant foam on the water’s surface and wondered how long it would take Logan to make his move. Because you knew, as night follows day, that he would hit on you tonight. You weren’t fooled by his earlier tease of almost kissing you. Even if - annoyingly - you knew you would have given in to it if he had. You guessed he’d probably try that approach again to entrap you. Picking up a big handful of foam, you blew it off your palm into the air and groaned.

The handsome big devil! Why did he always have to look so fucking hot?!

Another groan left your lips. You were going to have to firstly be on your guard big time, and secondly - and more importantly - stay in control of your own damn self!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The view was spectacular. The meal was delicious, the champagne flowed and so did the conversation between the two of you. You ended up telling him way more than you’d originally meant to, how you’d had to fight your parents every step of the way to study your chosen subject - they wanted you to be a doctor or a lawyer and had eventually refused to contribute anything towards your education fees. How you still had a slightly frosty relationship with them, especially as your younger brother had gone on to become a doctor and therefore - irrespective of the fact that you’d earned many awards within your field and your salary was double what he made - little brother was perfection personified as far as your parents were concerned.

Logan had snorted as he’d sipped his champagne when you’d said that, and went on to tell you some choice items about James, ‘Daddy Dearest’ as he called him. How he and Juliet had eventually forced him into retirement, and he’d also made some cryptic comments about his ex brother-in-law and something which had happened in Westworld. He’d quickly changed the subject and recounted various other exploits of his while there, eyes sparkling with mischievousness as he mentioned heists and orgies. And the hosts. He told you all about the hosts.

“Sounds like you spend a lot of time with them, Logan,” you commented, strangely jealous of these robots for some reason. He shrugged, “That’s what they’re there for,” smiling at you, “no strings, y’know? No consequences.” You sat back in your chair, “And I guess that appeals to you? Like, a lot.” Logan crossed one long leg over another and also relaxed back in his chair, “I never lie, so the answer’s yes. Yeah, it did. No hassle whatsoever, what’s not to like?” His gaze locked in on you, “Until now, that is.”

You met his eyes, “And what’s different now?” “Maybe I want some strings. A little hassle, some consequences.” Laughing, you sipped your drink, “Really? I’m not sure you do.” He leant forward, “But I do, sweetheart. Because I want you.” You’d just taken another drink and nearly choked as you burst out laughing, “Oh Logan. No…. you don’t want me, you just want a quick fuck. And I’m not up for that in case you hadn’t noticed.” Logan looked offended for a second, then his usual confident look reappeared on his face. “How do you know what I want? If I wasn’t serious, why am I hanging around doing my best to win you over? I’ll be honest with you, I don’t usually need to try too hard, if at all.”

You burst out laughing, “Exactly my point! This is a novelty for you, that’s all. You’ll soon tire of it when you don’t get anywhere and then off you’ll go to an easier lay.” He shook his head, “No, that’s not the case. And who says I won’t get anywhere? Once I set my heart on something, I’ll go all out till I get it. And right now, that means you, angel.” “I’m not a commodity, Logan! I’m not something to acquire and then move quickly on from.” A lazy smile graced his lips, “Oh I know you’re not, sweetheart, believe me. That’s my point. I’m not about to move on.”

You looked across at him sceptically, “Uh-huh. Sure you’re not, Logan.” He leant back in his chair once more, a seductive smile on his face and dark eyes boring into yours, “Okay, let me ask you something. Do you think I’m hot?” Hesitating, you stalled by picking up your glass but his hand landed on yours, stopping you from raising it to your lips. “Nah, no drinking till you answer me.” He says he never lies, you thought, and I don’t think he does so I’ll return the favour. “Okay… yes, I think you’re hot.” He nodded, looking too smug for your liking so you carried on, “But in saying that, I wouldn’t get involved with you because of your rep.”

He nodded once more, a little disappointment now evident, “Yeah, don’t worry! - I definitely got that vibe. But leaving that aside, if you didn’t know all about me and my rep, answer me this. Would you have slept with me if we’d gone out on a date?” You could feel your face heating up and giving you away, so you admitted, “Yes, I would have. You’re hot, Logan, like I said.”

A big grin on his face, he picked up his glass and held it out so you’d clink yours with his. “That’s all I wanted to hear, sweetheart. I’ve got something to work with now.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Back at the hotel, Logan walked you to your room and as you stopped outside your door, thanking him for a lovely evening, he suddenly slid a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. His mouth found yours and he kissed you, lazily, sensually. You felt yourself melting into it, you couldn’t help it. My god does he know how to kiss, screamed your brain.

His lips left yours and you heard him whisper next to your ear, “I’ll show you that I can be different, that I’m not an asshole.” Your hand was on his chest and you could feel his rapid heartbeat. Your own was mirroring it, and you almost caved right there and then.

He stepped back from you, a finger trailing along your jaw, “Sweet dreams, angel. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You watched him walk down the corridor to his own room, and knew you were feeling nothing but regret.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan flicked on the TV with the remote and lay back on his pillows, naked, lifting his glass of whiskey and sipping. He was slowly but surely knocking down those walls of hers, he could tell. He’d felt it when he kissed her, she’d relaxed against him and slid her hands onto his neck and chest.

He was really surprising himself, if he was being honest. Never would he have hung on this long before if someone wouldn’t put out. He supposed that was one big disadvantage of fucking all those hosts, they never said no. And let’s be truthful, in real life people didn’t say no to him either. So he’d never really had to handle rejection before (apart from in his relationship with his darling father of course, but that was a whole other story). He sipped again; perhaps this was why he’d fallen for this new, intriguing, beautiful woman. She told him ‘No’, she wasn’t interested in his status, his money or what she could gain from him either in self-publicity or luxurious celebrity lifestyle.

And that was refreshing. Very refreshing. He was going to carry on with his battle plan, he would not give up until he’d won this woman, this prize. And no, he wasn’t regarding her as an object to be won, like a huge teddy bear in a carnival sideshow. They’d spent a fantastic evening together and he was feeling more and more of a connection with her. He sensed that she had the power to make his life better, to care for him, to bring meaning to his existence. Which scared the fucking crap out of him but it was what it was. He couldn’t stop himself feeling that way, so he’d just go with the flow and see what happened.

He was getting hard thinking about her and his hand slid down onto his cock. ‘Mmm, yeah, a little attention’s required here’, he thought to himself. He began working himself, stroking and squeezing, and soon he was scrabbling for a tissue from the box next to him on the bedside table. He bunched it up around the head of his cock and not a moment too soon. With a loud groan, he came almost immediately into it, expertly catching all of his come in the tissue cocoon he’d created. He wiped the tip and then the rest of his length and screwed up the damp tissue, tossing it into the nearest bin before sighing and relaxing back on his pillows again.

That… helped, but it didn’t satisfy him. Not properly. He needed her for that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Lying awake, your mind was dwelling entirely on what you could have been doing if you’d invited Logan into your room, as you’d so nearly done. A vision of him on top of you, your legs wrapped round his hips. Or you on top of him, riding him like a pony. His hands on your hips, thrusting up into you, his face flushed and contorted with passion.

You shot up in bed. Okay, you were going to have to stop your brain from thinking. Not even wanting to touch yourself, you knew that wouldn’t do it for you when all you desired was Logan. Him. And that body of his.

A drink? Should you have a drink? It might help calm your restlessness. But to be honest, no - you knew it wouldn’t. There was only one thing which you knew would definitely help.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was half-asleep, beginning to drift off into dreams of what he’d like to do to her if he ever got her into his bed. Dream Logan had just begun to lick her nipples when there was a knock at the door. What? Another knock, louder this time. He groggily realised that there was actually someone knocking and got up, grabbing his bathrobe from a chair and shrugging into it as he went to the door and opened it.

It was her. His dream woman. But in reality. Also dressed in a bathrobe and looking at him like he was an oasis in the desert.

She brushed past him and walked in, closing and locking the door behind her. Logan was truly dumbfounded by this turn of events. She stopped in front of him, untying the belt of his bathrobe a little, before lightly placing her hands on his chest. She gazed up into his wide and amazed eyes, playing with the hairs in between his pecs and running her fingers even further down to his money trail. His stomach muscles tensed involuntarily and then she was pushing him backwards, and when he reached the bed she shoved him hard.

Logan fell backwards onto it when the back of his knees hit the mattress, his feet still on the floor, longs legs bent, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at her in amazement. She reached for the belt of his robe again, kneeling down between his legs as she did so and his lips parted, his breath catching. Was she… was she really going to…? The belt fell loose and his robe fell open. She gazed with desire and appreciation at Logan’s erect length, then her fingers were on his tip. His hips jolted upwards and she began squeezing him and stroking her fingers round it, and he saw precum beginning to trickle out as he lay there watching her take him in hand. She gave him a sudden and extra firm squeeze while her other hand took hold of his balls and he yelped, like a damn dog.

Logan couldn’t believe he’d lost control of this situation, but it seemed that he absolutely had. He opened his mouth to speak, but she immediately put a finger to his lips.

“Not a word, Delos. Not one. Single. Fucking. Word.”

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(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

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@obscurilicious @theshadowkingsqueen

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#logan delos #logan delos x reader #ben barnes #logan delos fan fiction #logan delos imagine #logan delos fanfic

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