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maxislvt · 2 years ago

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The Perfect Pair

Summary: What happened before Christmas was an accident. It should've been a one off thing that neither you or Wanda would mention again. However, Wanda isn't satisfied with just letting you slip through the cracks and though you'd never admit it, you didn't want to slip through them either.

Warnings: smut, omegaverse, alpha!reader, omega!Wanda, nontraditional omegaverse dynamics, anal play, pegging, anal fingerings, butt plugs, jealousy, rough sex, teasing, claiming, very brief and non serious injury towards the end, aftercare

Author's Note: I swear I was writing the professor Wanda fic but this literally consumed my every waking thought FOR WEEKS!! This is technically a part 2 of Let It Snow but this can be read on its own!!

"I understand you may be worried about some of the repercussions of our… escapade before Christmas and I assure you they are small. As you know, how I acquired my powers has rendered me barren. I won't stop being friends with you because of this but I cannot let something like that happen again. It would be detrimental to the team to continue such a relationship based on our urges."

You were so serious, Wanda almost believed you. With your back so straight and your voice so stern, Wanda should've been convinced you wanted nothing to do with her. Like always, she could see right through you. The smaller details always told her what you were truly feeling. Your heels dug into the carpet of her room, you fiddled with the leather strap on your jacket, and the way you simply refused to make proper eye contact with her. You were nervous, unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. It was adorable. Wanda could only imagine you hunched over a desk constantly rewriting your speech in that little notebook you kept on you.

"Who said it wasn't only based on urges, hm?" One question was all she needed to break your facade. Suddenly, you were right back to that bashful alpha she had trapped underneath only weeks earlier. Wanda stepped into your personal space. Her hands spread out over the muscular surface that was your chest. "You can sense me watching you, can't you?" Wanda ran her fingers down your arm, following the curve of your muscles. "I know about that adorable little sketchbook you bring on missions and the stickers you use to color code your files." Her hands slid back up your arm, groping and squeezing the unmoving muscles. "I know you're the mysterious little chef that leaves cookies out for the team on Sundays."

She began to circle you. You were nothing more than prey for her to pounce on at any second. "I can see inside that little head of yours," Wanda whispered in your ear. You were practically shaking underneath her touch. She could hear your brain frantically searching for some excuse or explanation. Wanda had heard your filthy thoughts. Of course, she had. She wrapped her arms around your waist from behind. "You're tired of being in charge, aren't you? You just wanna let go and let someone else do the work. Isn't that right?" A smirk spread across her face. She had you. Stuck in a limbo of accepting the truth in her words and about to lose yourself in the pleasure she was giving you.

You were doomed. Your dick twitched and throbbed in Wanda's hands as she groped you. It pained you to admit it, but she was right. Being underneath Wanda was the freest you had ever felt. No reports, no stupid tests to be run, and none of society's standards telling you to be ashamed of what you wanted. Wanda's touch felt heavenly. Soft and freshly manicured nails rubbed up and down your crotch until you were completely hard. Part of you just wanted her to make the leap and take you then and there. "Uh i-it's, it's more complicated than that," You strained out. The slow, methodic strokes were almost enough to get you begging for more. Almost wasn't enough. Just as a shudder ran up your spine, you grabbed Wanda's wrist and pulled it off of you. You turned to face her. "I don't get to just drop anything and play whatever sick game you're dragging me into." Stepping away was the hardest thing you've ever done. "Maybe we can be friends, but I can't let this happen."

Wanda raised her eyebrows in disappointment. You could never lie to her. She knew too much. Wanda simply smiled and cupped your face. "Well, I'll believe it when you can look me in the eyes and say it." In one swift motion, she leaned forward and kissed you. Once again, you were helpless and completely pliable from simple touches. All it took for you to relax was a few seconds of a kiss. You wanted her, Wanda knew that, but you'd never have her if you denied yourself so often. Her hands wrapped around your waist. The fabric of your suit was harsh against her skin. "Let's get this off and see how much you don't want me, hm?"

With your mind clouded by lust, you almost let Wanda have her way with you. "Wanda, I- I'm serious! If this gets out of hand, there's no telling what'll happen to the team!" A defiant huff came from your chest as you stepped away. Your face was flushed red and your body felt hot. It wasn't fair. How come you couldn't fluster Wanda the way she flustered you? You were an alpha. Alphas weren't supposed to be mushy and dependent. They were supposed to be hard workers and leaders. "I'm serious, I'm not letting this go on any longer! Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend and I will not let you be the reason I'm late!" Shouting felt unnatural to you, but you were frustrated. Without another word, you used your powers to disappear into the shadows and leave Wanda's room.

Wanda merely groaned and shook her head. She'd make you confess one way or the other.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Despite the confidence you had to walk out, you were beginning to regret it. Stress was starting to get you. Having sex with Wanda was the first time in almost a year you hadn't suppressed your heat and your body was missing her. You were starting to worry that maybe your heart was too. If you weren't careful, every thought you had would suddenly become about Wanda. It was particularly embarrassing when she'd enter your mind when you needed comfort.

Like when you were trapped in a pressure chamber and had to force yourself to become whole again. No matter how many times you found yourself in that position, you could never get used to the pain. A necessary evil you told yourself. At least Bruce would always be there for moral support. However, after a two-week-long period of using your powers almost non-stop, you were subjected to the worst session of it yet. You practically collapsed the second you stepped off the Quinjet and it felt as if your condition only worsened from there. It was a cruel process. Several minutes of what would've been bone-crushing pressure to anyone else, then you'd get a minute of nausea, and then you'd have to do it all over again.

All you could do was curl into a ball and scream.

The other Avengers occasionally stopped by during the process to offer you encouraging words or bring food when you'd be let out for a real break. After nearly two hours of medical torture, you had almost given up on it. Then, Wanda came in.

She almost immediately regretted it. Never had Wanda seen you so weak. Strained tears rolled down your face as you clawed at the floor beneath you. It was awful to look at. "What's up with them," Wanda asked casually, hoping she'd seem disinterested.

"Rethreading. Y/N uses their powers too long and their atoms forget how to arrange themselves back to the way they were before. The only way to get them back in order is to brute force it." Bruce turned off the pressure, allowing you to rest. "It isn't pretty, but it's the only thing that works." He looked up from the monitor in front of him and came face first with a very confused Wanda. "Okay. They're a human, which is solid, but their powers turn them into this weird shadowy gas thing we can't put a name to just yet. It's cool, but if they do it too long their atoms forget how to become solid again. Pressure forces them back into one piece.

Wanda nodded along, only understanding part of the explanation. "Have you tried magic? What if I just…force them to go back together, gently."

Bruce hummed and scratched the back of his neck. "It's not exactly my field of work, but if you think it'll work…go ahead." He pressed a button on the panel in front of him. "We're sending Wanda in…don't give me that look. It's worth a shot and probably less painful." A wave of his hand signaled for Wanda to enter the chamber. "Pressure's off, go ahead."

Wanda honestly had no clue what she was doing. It'd be a miracle if you even let her touch you, it'd be something else entirely if she could help you feel better. "Let's just make this easier for the both of us, alright?"The door to the chamber closed behind her and she took a deep breath. Though you didn't say anything, she took you laying down as a sign of submission. She kneeled beside you and firmly placed her hand on your chest. "Just…breathe."

You begrudgingly followed Wanda's instructions. One deep breath as the magical red mist surrounded your body. You weren't entirely sure what you were experiencing, but it felt good. After hours of fruitless torture, your body seemed to finally listen. Wanda's magic had tamed the unruly science that ruined you and made you whole again. Everything was peaceful. No nausea or pressure, just calmness.

"I…it worked. It worked!" A relieved laugh bubbled through your body. "Oh god, Wanda you don't know what this means to me! Thank you, thank you!" Without even thinking, you pulled Wanda into a hug. A real hug. Not those awkward side hugs you gave to politicians during banquets. A full hug filled with gratitude and adoration. Genuine enough to make you forget your self-imposed rule of distance. Only for a moment though. After nearly a full thirty seconds of hugging, you forced yourself to let go and cleared your throat. "Your assistance is greatly appreciated and I will never forget how you've helped me today," You said with a flat voice devoid of the excitement you had just seconds early. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have mission debriefings to finish up and submit." You gave Wanda a firm handshake before standing up and leaving the chamber.

Wanda just barely fought off the urge to roll her eyes, but she let you leave without saying anything else to you. She stood and shrugged at Bruce. "I'm not exactly sure what I did, but I'll do it again if it must be done." Part of her was disappointed she let you slip through her fingers once again, but embarrassing you in front of your friends certainly wasn't the way to catch. Maybe now, you'd come to her.

You had come running to her sooner than she expected. Mere hours after dinner, you stood in front of her doorway. You looked so meek. A noticeable red blush on your cheeks and ears as you waited to be let in. The only way you'd look any cuter was if she put a collar on you. "Is there a problem?" A simple question, but one that gets you worked up for no reason.

A deep breath came out of your lungs but did nothing to calm you. "I would like to apologize to you. For this evening and what happened last week, I think." Wanda stepped to the side to let you in her room. You were hesitant to accept her offer. Wanda was unpredictable and you weren't sure you had the willpower to deny her much longer. Just being alone in her room puts you on edge, mostly because you didn't fit in. A spot of inky blackness in a sea of bright reds and pink. You chose to sit on the loveseat and subconsciously held onto the tiny stuffed bunny that was in your spot. "I realize you were just trying to help me with my problems and I appreciate that. I shouldn't have been rude to you after that, you're a good person." You squeeze the bunny in your lap before talking again. "...but I can't let us be anything more than friends. I'm an alpha. I shouldn't bend to your whim and you shouldn't want an alpha that does."

Wanda watched as you nervously toyed with the stuffed animal in your lap. It was adorable. Watching you try to be something you weren't was so amusing. "Says who? Who says I can't want a nice, soft, adorable little alpha like you?" She laughed as you squirmed in your seat. "I don't care for some meathead alpha that puffs out their chest over every little thing. I much prefer one that'll win me over with chocolate chip cookies and brownies instead." Slowly, she walked over to you and didn't stop until she towered over you while you sat down. Her gentle hands cupped your face and tilted your head back so you were forced to make eye contact. "I'm going to court you and I would appreciate it if you came to your senses and accepted it."

You swallowed a lump in your throat. The eye contact you held with Wanda was intense. You were too scared to look away. Not that you could. Wanda had you frozen in place. "I- You can't just…" The words you wanted to say were right on the tip of your tongue. Wanda couldn't force you to accept her offer. It didn't matter how much of a pushover she thought you were. I have every right to say no. Alphas didn't need to be coddled and talked down to. I can handle myself. All powerful and true statements that just won't leave your mouth no matter how hard you try. It didn't help that Wanda just smiled down at you every time you tried speaking. Purposely trying to fluster you. A different kind of evil you could never dream of defeating. So instead of arguing, you merely disappeared again.

It didn't frustrate Wanda this time. She already had a plan.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

It had been about three days since you had properly talked to Wanda. Disappearing at the slightest frustrations wasn't a good habit, but talking to Wanda was near impossible. She was always in your personal space, she always knew how you truly felt, and she was always so pretty. It wasn't fair. You could talk to her if she wasn't always touching you with her stupidly soft hands and covering everything in that stupidly comforting scent of hers.

Who knew the smell of strawberries and cinnamon would be so dreadful?

You couldn't escape it. Even with a gym full of alphas, hers always managed to stand out. She'd always be in the kitchen with her brother or sitting right next to you during meals. You were lucky Wanda didn't attempt to start any conversation with you because you were sure you'd embarrass yourself. She hadn't shown any signs of courting you and you were convinced you had scared her off. You convinced yourself you didn't care if you had by enjoying the peace of training without Wanda gawking at you the entire time.

The peace was short-lived. Once you entered your room, you were greeted with a familiar spiciness that wasn't your scent. It was subtle. Maybe Wanda hadn't been in your room for long, but she had certainly been there. But what for? Your drawers hadn't been looked through and nothing had been touched. No matter how many times you looked over your room, everything was the same. Ultimately, you were too tired to keep searching and just flopped onto your bed from exhaustion.

Squeak.

You pressed down on your bed again.

Squeak, Squeak.

After several more squeaks, you pulled back your blanket and came face to face with the cutest plushie you’d ever seen. Jet black yarn crocheted into the shape of a bunny with the floppiest ears. The solid red eyes and X-shaped mouth were adorable accents. It even had both of its ears pierced like yours. You looked around your room a few times to make sure no one was around and gave the bunny an affectionate squeeze. Wanda had scented the bunny, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad about that. After a few more squeezes, you notice a note and a gift bag resting on your pillow. You put down the rabbit and picked up the note card. ‘Let's fuck like rabbits ♡!" Had been written on the card. Part of you wanted just to rip up the card and return the gift, but you knew she’d somehow turn it against you. A heavy pit of anxiety settled in your stomach as you pulled out the drawstring holding the bag together. “OH!” You nearly dropped the bag out of shock. A buttplug with a bunny tail attached to the end of it and lube. It felt less like courting and more like an assassination attempt.

"What, you don't like it?"

Wanda's silky smooth voice made you shudder. "I appreciate the stuffed animal, but this is inappropriate!" You refused to look Wanda in the eye. It would kill you to see the face she was making. That devastating mix of smugness and adoration. Like she was happy to see you flustered. It wasn't fair. "I won't accept it!" You threw the bag back in Wanda's direction. "Omegas don't court, they get courted! If you really want to give e it a try give me a chance to"

"If you sit down and stop talking I'll show you how to use it."

You sat down on your bed with your arms and legs crossed defensively. "This isn't me accepting it! I'm just.. curious." A shiver ran up your spine as you watched Wanda crawl onto your bed. The look in her eyes was hungry. It made you squirm. Just the feeling of her hand on your barely thigh made you throb. You were doomed. Wanda was going to fuck you in the ass and then you'd be too dumb to deny her ever again. So, you decided to make it difficult for her. When she leaned in to kiss you, you turned your head. "No mouth kissing, this isn't romantic." Where you expected Wanda to huff and push you to change your mind, she simply decided to attack your neck instead. "Ah! Mmm…" A shaky breath fell from your lips as you tried to act unphased by the feeling.

Wanda bit back a smirk. She was starting to realize you needed to be eased into things. Praised and coddled until you were truly comfortable with her and your desires. She guided you into laying back against the mountain of pillows and slowly uncrossed your legs. "Can I take your boxers off?" Her scent slowly began to fill your room. You were so tense. "I need you to relax. You'll hurt yourself if you don't." Every breath she took filled her nostrils with your scent. Milk chocolate and caramel. Sweet and gentle scents. Just like the skin of your thighs. Sugary sweet in her mouth and oh so fragile. It would take nothing to sink her teeth in and mark you as hers forever, but she chose to wait. Instead, she chose to pepper your thighs with kisses until the muscles fully relaxed. "That's it. Do you think you're ready?"

You're painfully hard and in need of release, but you don't want to embarrass yourself by cumming the very second Wanda touches you. It took a full minute of deep breathing to control the buzzing underneath your skin. "I'm ready," You said barely above a whisper. A gasp escaped your lips at the feeling of Wanda smearing the cold lube against your puckered hole. The stuffed rabbit and Wanda's soft praise were the only thing that brought you comfort. Once you stopped squirming, Wanda eased her middle finger inside of your hole. "Ah, ah! Slower, please go slower!"

Wanda stopped moving, her finger only halfway inside. "Okay, just breathe. Tell me when you want to go again." For a moment, she considered pulling out entirely but she didn't want to risk you tightening up again. "Can I touch your knot? It'll make it hurt less." The meek nod from you sent her heart into a fit. Her hand slowly wrapped around the length of your cock. The pace she set was just as slow as her finger. "Oh, there we go. That's a pretty sound, isn't it?" She dragged her tongue along the underside of your length.

Your lips quivered and you tighten your grip on the rabbit. "Thank you, thank you so much. That feels good," You said through a breathy moan. A fire spreads underneath your skin and you're hopeless to stop it. Wanda's fingers were so long. "F-fuck, can you just put that thing in me already?" Despite your pleas, you were only given a second one of Wanda's fingers. They could barely move inside of you, but she spread them apart regardless. You choked on a gasp. "What's that! What's that!"

Wanda kept rubbing against the patch of nerves inside of you again. "You don't know where your prostate is? How cute." She continued to rub and press against your prostate. Her tongue collected the drops of cum that leaked from your tip. "A little someone tells me you like it." Wanda took her sweet time milking you. She worked you up into taking three fingers before pulling out entirely. The sight of your gaping hole makes her feral. "I think you're ready." Wanda smeared lube over the plug and eased it inside of your hole. "There we go, nice a full."

The fullness was foreign, but enjoyable. Your breath was shaky and you were horribly overstimulated. "Can you…can you keep going? I just wanna cum please." A near pornographic moan escaped your lips as Wanda began stroking your cock again. The tip of thumb rubbed your slip and she jerked you off. Your cock practically throbbed in her grasp. Despite the brain melting pleasure, your eyes found themselves drawn to Wanda's lips. They curled into a gentle smile. Not the condescending ones she'd thrown your way when you'd turn into a stuttering mess, but a comforting one. They looked warm and inviting, like they were just begging for the chance to press up against yours. "Can you kiss me? Like a real kiss?"

The question threw Wanda off and she nearly lost her movement. She recovered quickly and dived in and molded her lips against yours. Your lips are chapped and raw from your constant biting of them, but she was strangely attached to it. Her tongue explored the warmth of your mouth. Dominating your mouth was just as easy. You were desperate for it. A shudder ran down her spine as you moaned into the kiss. It was near impossible for her to let go of your lips, even when she needed to breathe. She continued to jerk you off until you couldn't handle the stimulation. "Let me court you." It was more of a command than a question.

You could only whimper as your orgasm overcame you. For a moment, you couldn't even look at Wanda. Her tongue had taken up the job of cleaning the cum off of her hand and your stomach. It's obscene, but the two of you had certainly gone too far for you to be embarrassed about it. Your eyes didn't move from the blanket beneath you. "I…Fine, but can we keep us behind closed doors for a bit? I've never been courted before or y'know courted anyone before."

Wanda dragged her fingernails up and down the side of your thighs. "I'll take care of you." Her hands guided up towards your face. Words couldn't describe how excited she was to be able to kiss you. She peppered kisses all over your face. It was addictive. "Isn't that what you want? Someone taking care of you."

You nod slowly, under the daze of affection and lack of energy. "Okay, but this isn't happening right away." It's embarrassing to have given yourself up so easily, but Wanda made you feel good. It caused a stir in your stomach, but one that settled the very second Wanda snuggled up next to you.

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You were intentionally apprehensive about being courted. It just didn't feel right. For every gift Wanda would give you, there was the urge to buy at least three more. You were thankful Wanda had gone from gift giving to actually taking you dates. The Amazon list you had racked up for her had grown large and your wallet would never forgive you for it.

"So, where are you taking me?" You had asked the question at least four times during the train ride and three more during the walk. It was a good thing Wanda had grown to love your curiosity, because anyone else would've threatened to tape your mouth closed. Honestly, you wouldn't have asked so much if Wanda hadn't been so vague and unplanned. You had just finished training in the gym before she mysteriously appeared with an outfit for you and told you to stop by her room. Now you weren't really sure where you were. "Also, did you really have to pick my clothes out for me? I'm capable of dressing myself!"

Wanda simply rolled her eyes, kissing your knuckles as she guided you into the building. "I spent 10 minutes looking for clothes that weren't just your suit and 10 more looking for something that didn't have your name on it." It never occurred to Wanda how small your wardrobe was until she had come face to face with it. Nothing but tech gear and workout clothes. "At least those sweatpants make your ass look nice," She said before giving your ass a firm squeeze when you walked in front of her.

You had grown used to Wanda's rather inappropriate forms of physical affection, but the compliments never failed to make you blush. "Ah, you promised to stop saying stuff like that out loud! What if someone hears?" A pout covered your features, but it didn't last very long. You were immediately curious about your surroundings. It was a kitchen, that much was obvious. Embarrassment settled over your features. You were a regular at this rentable kitchen. A rentable kitchen was the best way to do all your baking endeavors without leaving behind any evidence. No one should've known about this except for

…Bruce. Of course he told Wanda about that. The little sneak. "Who told you about this place?"

Wanda tried to suppress a giggle. "Oh um, no one. Just found it while searching for a place for us to go." She kissed your cheek and pushed you up the stairs to the floor she rented out specifically. The glance shared between you and the desk attended wasn't lost on her, but she kept her thoughts to herself. "I wanted to take you somewhere nice, but I figured you'd throw a fit if I took you out for dinner and tried to pay for you so I bought everything ahead of time so you can just sit there and look cute while I cook!"

You frowned. Wanda was right, you'd die before letting her plan something nice and let her cover the whole cost. "Okay, well what if I just cook everything to make up for it?"

"I was hoping you'd ask that," Wanda hummed excitedly. She clapped her hands and suddenly you were tied down to a chair right next to her. "I'll just have to keep you all tied up so I can cook." She affectionately tapped the tip of your nose before she started cooking. Her eyes rolled at your disapproving grumbles. "I'll let you bake cookies if you play nice," was all she needed to say to keep your behavior in check. "Why don't you tell me about yourself? What's going on in that adorable little head of yours?"

At first, you ignored Wanda's question and decided to watch her cook. You were hoping she'd make a mistake and you'd have an excuse to at least boss her around a bit. Unfortunately, no such mistake came and the silence was making you uneasy. "Oh um, why don't you just read my mind?" The glare Wanda gave you was deadly. You made a quick note not to suggest it ever again. For a moment you sat there tied and confused. Small talk was irritating but there was no other way to learn about each other. "I'm the only alpha in my family, well in my house at least. My aunt says it's why I'm so soft. It was just my mom and my two siblings growing up."

Wanda continued chopping up the ingredients as you talked. Life in Sokovia was tough, even with two parents and a twin brother. She couldn't imagine how hard it was for you. "What was that like?" She could hear you shuffling nervously. "I don't gain anything from running off and telling everyone your business. Just trust me."

You huffed out of frustration, but you knew she was right. Wanda had somehow mastered the balance between keeping your relationship a secret and not completely ignoring you in public. "It was…it was weird honestly. I was the youngest in my house but I always had to get into fights for my siblings. I wasn't big either, so you can imagine I got roughed up a lot." Opening up to people was rare for you, but it felt natural with Wanda. Even with her back turned to you and the knife coming down against the wooden board, you knew she was listening. "My mom hated it, but I couldn't just sit there and let people talk down on her."

It was a little sad, but the image of a younger version of you patched up with a heavy pout on your face was adorable. "I get it, Pietro had to do the same for me, sort of. He wasn't physically fighting because he was big but he was always pushing someone around for me." She scooped a bit of the soup she was making onto a spoon and turned towards you. The corners of her mouth turned upwards when you subconsciously leaned in and ate it. "All the younger kids thought I was weird and it was free reign once I presented."

You let Wanda wipe the corners of your mouth. The conversation continued like that. You'd share something about your life and Wanda would give you information about her in exchange. Some of the stories were sad. Others light hearted and hilarious. The conversations rarely lulled and you two only stopped talking when dinner was ready and Wanda needed to focus so she could plate the food. Even then, the silence while you two ate was comfortable."I really want this to go somewhere. You're the first person that didn't make me feel bad for being me."

Her hand inched up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. "Well, I like you a lot better when you're soft and baking cookies for me." Wanda's hand moved further up until she reached your belt. She could feel you squirming underneath her touch. You were adorable and every day you gave Wanda another reason to think that. "Alphas need to be taken care of too, let me be the one to take care of you. Okay?"

One look into Wanda's eyes and you were locked in a trance. Your face felt hot and your heart rate shot through the roof. It was so much harder playing tough and constantly denying yourself. "I…okay. I love you." The kiss Wanda stole from you was much softer than the other ones you got from her.

She didn't have to rush. Wanda's tongue carefully explored every inch of your mouth and was careful not to bite you too harshly. By the time she pulled away, your lips were swollen and your face had gone bright red. "You're mine now and I'm gonna make sure you remember that."

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Wanda didn't mind having to be secretive at first. Though she couldn't stand your obsession with appearances and reputation, she knew you'd have to let them go slowly. You were already learning so fast. Days where you would argue about being a little spoon or refusing to wear the clothes Wanda picked out for you, were long gone. You were putty in her hands. No one else had the privilege of loving the real you. That didn't mean she was the only one that had the privilege of staring. Wanda expected people to stare. Even if the other alphas talked down on you, the omegas were always comfortable with you. You were nice and always respectful of them. Being pretty and mysterious only made them want you more.

So it was no surprise that when you were respectful, pretty, and mysterious in a suit, the omega were practically begging for your attention. You were much too kind to do anything but give it to them. Small compliments that meant nothing to you, but seemed to be the word to them.

Wanda could only watch from the bar while you were practically surrounded. The thought of claiming in front of everyone was heavy on her mind.

"Oh, green is not your color," A familiar voice said from behind her. "One white Russian please."

Wanda let out a frustrated groan. "I'm not jealous. I just don't like other people touching all over what's mine- They're not mine, they're their own person!" Natasha always managed to get Wanda to slip up and confess her most embarrassing feelings.

"What's yours? That's a new one for sure." Natasha chuckled before taking a sip of her drink. "Look, I've worked with Y/N for a long time. They're not a risk taker. If you want them, you're going to have to get them before someone else does." She nudged Wanda with her elbow and tilted her head towards your direction.

In just a few short minutes, most of the omegas surrounding you had disappeared and that left you corned by one. Some low level SHIELD agent she'd seem following you around a couple times. There had always been a few feet of distance between you, but now she was all over you. Her hand kept rubbing your bicep and she just seemed so interested in being right underneath you.

'My room, now.'

A shiver ran up your spine and you immediately began searching the room for Wanda. You found her staring directly at you with red eyes. Even from halfway across the room, you could tell she was at risk of breaking the glass in her hand. "Um, I have to go to the restroom. Don't wait up!" Before the agent could ask you any questions, you wiggled out from the hold she had on you and made your way out of the banquet hall. Wanda had never looked at you that way. Was she angry? If so, was it your fault? Even with your concerns, you found yourself sitting on the edge of her bed with your stuffed rabbit, now named Noir, in your arms.

Wanda sat down her cup and made her way up to her room. She wasn't mad at you, she couldn't be. It wasn't your fault you were so attractive. No one would touch you again if she claimed you. That's all she had to do. Mark up that pretty little neck of yours and make you hers forever.

"You look so handsome in your little suit," Wanda said affectionately as she began unknotting your tie. She always took her time undressing you. A gentle kiss placed on every inch of skin she uncovered. "You're my alpha, not theirs. They can't touch you." Once she fully unbuttoned your dress shirt and tossed it to the side, her hands immediately focused on the tent in your pants. "Oh, and that makes your adorable little cock mine too. Doesn't it?" The tips of her fingers teased your erection, but pulled away when your hips started to buck upwards. "Ah, I want to hear you say it."

You whined softly at the lack of contact. "Yours…my knot is yours and you can do whatever you want with it. I'm your alpha."A shaky moan fell from your lips when Wanda began touching you again. It was hard to figure out why Wanda was so upset when she was doing her very best to turn you into a thoughtless mess. "Did—ah! Did something happen?"

Wanda considered ignoring your question and just toying with you until her jealousy fizzled out, but she knew you'd keep asking until you were satisfied. "I don't want anyone else touching what's mine. Not you and especially not that omega that couldn't keep her hands to herself." She finally freed your cock from the confines of your pants and boxers and started jerking you off. Her strokes were slow and dominating. "I'm gonna have to claim you so everyone knows to stay away. Doesn't that sound good? I sink my teeth into your neck and everyone will know you're mine."

The thought of claiming Wanda hadn't crossed your mind before. Being marked by her just sounded right. You knew it was typical for alphas to claim their omega first, but you weren't the one taking control. Wanda took control. It was only fair she claimed you first. "Okay, that sounds good." Your words came out jumbled and rushed, but Wanda took pity on your flustered state. "Claim me." Her magic was quick to wrap around your legs and waist to keep them spread. Tying you up was necessary. You were antsy and Wanda wasn't strong enough to hold you down on her own. Regular rope was much too harsh on your skin and you'd phase through it anyway.

Wanda undressed and put on her harness while you squirmed helplessly on the bed. "Relax, it's the same one we used last time." She rubbed the tip of the toy against your hole and smiled. You weren't as tense as before, but you needed a bit more foreplay to help you relax. "Hold your little bunny while I use my fingers, okay? I won't hurt you." She carefully smeared the lube over your hole, then eased three of her fingers inside. "You're already taking me so well. I could just fuck you like this."

A heavy moan fell from your lips as you were stretched out. "Fuck, oh my god!" Wanda had conditioned you to be louder and so much more vulgar. You'd take from her with wild abandon. "Please fuck me, I can take it." Despite your pleas, your hips bucked up and followed Wanda's fingers as they pulled out of you. Wanda was quick to replace her fingers with the tip of her strap-on.

You and Wanda moaned in sync as she eased the fake cock deep inside of you. "God, fuck you're so tight." Enchanting the strap wasn't an easy feat, but she was forever thankful she managed to do it. Nothing would ever compare to the feeling of being buried inside you. "God, you're practically sucking me in. You're just a needy little hole, aren't you? Say it, tell me you're my needy little alpha." Her scent flooded the room as she began peppering open-mouth kisses along the side of your neck.

"I'm your needy alpha! Fuck, right there, please!" Your hips pushed forward in an attempt to meet Wanda's thrusts. A butt plug could never feel this good, none of the toys would. They couldn't bottom you out and fuck into you without care. None of them twitched and throbbed inside the way Wanda currently was. Your hand instinctively reached down to ease the pressure growing between your legs only for them to be immediately slapped away. "Fuck, sorry. Can you— Ah! Can you jerk me off, please?"

Wanda pulled out just long enough for her magic to turn you over onto your knees before thrusting all the way back inside of you. Her hand wrapped around your cock and began stroking downwards. "You know how much I love milking that pretty little cock. I think I'm gonna cum just thinking about it." With one hand on your hip and the other bust jerking you off, Wanda had complete control over you. She'd fucked you dumb and now all she had to do was mark you. "That's it, let your omega take care of you. I bet it feels so good." She sprinkled kisses up your back and to the nape of your neck. Without warning, she sank her teeth into your neck until she broke the skin. Her hips continued pounding into you in hopes of distracting you from the pain.

"Fuck, ow! That hurts, it hurts!" Wanda's magic wrapped around your entire body and kept pinned down to the bed. It hurt, but your body seemed to love it. Your organs rushed over your body unexpectedly, but Wanda never faltered in her actions. "I'm cumming, please fuck don't stop!" Your knot began to swell even though you had nothing to dump it into.

Wanda was quick to squeeze and tug at the knot trying its best to form. "Awe, your poor little cock wants to breed me so bad. Too bad you're just a tiny little alpha that can't handle that responsibility." She squeezed your knot until she was sure every last bit of cum had leaked out of it. "I got one more surprise for you, pup." Her pace had become hellishly fast as she rutted against you.

You were as confused as you could be with seven inches drilling into you, but you weren't lucid enough to ask. Wanda had practically abused your prostate and you were already about to cum again. You were so sensitive, but Wanda didn't seem to be paying any mind to it. Just before your second orgasm had overcome you, you felt something sticky and hot coating the inside of your walls. Wanda was cumming inside of you somehow. You were being bred. The mere thought had you cumming again in mere seconds.

Your second orgasm was short but had taken everything out of you. Without another word, you collapsed onto the bed and tried recollecting yourself. "How-," You coughed to clear your throat. "How'd you do that?" You could feel your hole twitching and trying its best to keep the cum inside once Wanda had pulled out.

Wanda slowly climbed off the bed and moved your legs so you could lay down flat on the bed. "Just a little magic. Now don't move, I have to patch you up before we can shower." She quickly discarded the harness, which could be cleaned in the morning. She hadn't exactly planned out how she was going to claim you, but she always kept a medical kit in her bathroom just in case. Getting to use it had made her unbelievably happy. "It's going to sting a bit, but just bear with me a bit."

You had fought against all kinds of crazy things. Super soldiers, robots, aliens, and even highly trained assassins, but you still flinched at the feeling of alcohol being dabbed across the tiniest of cuts. Granted, the mark Wanda had left on your neck was not small, but it still hurts nonetheless. "Do you have to cover it up? I want everyone to see." A low whine came from you as Wanda pressed the gauze against your neck and taped them down.

"I know you do, pup, but I don't want to risk it getting infected. It's just for a few days." Wanda placed a light kiss on top of the bandage and nuzzled the side of your neck. "I promise to scent you every day so no one will bother you." The sound of you purring was music to her ears. Purring meant you felt safe and relaxed. "Now let's get you showered up and in some new clothes."

#pvntherz #wanda maximoff #omega!wanda #wanda maximoff smut #wanda fanfic #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x y/n #this a banger i fear

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sapfromsaplings · 6 months ago

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"passion."

(September 7-8, 2023)

i grew up a tomboy: refusing to wear dresses, skirts, even a shirt, or anything that made me seem like a girl. while being a girl. i refused to participate in "girly" things: i never liked dolls, i never liked to paint my nails, talk about boys, found makeup talk silly, and anything else your typical girl does. so, eventually, i grew up. i still refuse to wear dresses, skirts, and anything that even hints at the fact that i'm stuck with the body i was born with, but i try to hide it behind my hair that cuts off at my shoulders, my baggy clothes that resist me but show off their wrinkles instead, and a gym that has the capacity to mold people in who they wanna be, a perfect place for me. i still refuse to participate in "girly" things: i still don't like dolls, sometimes i paint my nails darker than the night sky, the only color that will allow me to be masculine, but then that makes me "gay," and that definitely doesn't make me a man.

a boy handed me my first rejection. i can still picture him now: his blonde hair, his tall structure, and the nice way he treated me when we were in fifth grade. i was young, gullible, and naive. it didn't bother me at all, but then i went chasing after girls who introduced me to my first heartbreaks. rejection transformed me into an individual who could handle pain, bury away my emotions, and keep my mouth closed. but my body language constantly betrays my mind: eyes lingering on girls i find attractive, my face flushing when met face-to-face with said girls, and a normally confident brain that turns into mush at the worst moments. alas, my heart beats fast for anyone.

i handle the pain inside, and bury away my emotions because of my family. born hispanic, raised white.

almost.

my father's american identity has warped itself onto i, leaving behind the memories and hopes of my mother's culture. my mother vowed to teach us children spanish, but her tongue refused, and well, we did too. i try to pick up the bits and pieces of whatever hope there is left of me discovering the rest of my culture, and establishing pride within my mother's side of the family, but a lot of them are missing forever.

my father speaks proudly of that of being an american, and i suppose that isn't the worst thing in the world, but he is rash, stubborn and decisive. it takes much to change his mind, and he inhales the propaganda of politics. he awaits for my brother to take his place and become a man. they get along much better than him and i, and i worry he won't ever see me as his son. he believes a man shouldn't cry, should be strong, and reaffirms that "boys will be boys." breaking down in front of him is an embarrassment, his emotional unavailability unable to comfort. crying in my house is seen as being "sensitive" and "manipulative," tears spilled during our youth confirming such to them. so the shower brushes the tears off my cheeks, clears my red-stained eyes, and reassures me that it's gonna be okay.

when my bathroom cannot save me, i go outside. i walk twenty minutes to a gym i adore, and i work myself to the extreme. my progress is reflected in photos and occasional giddy gazes into the mirror, i joke that i'm strong, but am i? an orange ball works my brain more than my brawn, and grinding for half of a summer amplified my abilities and my confidence. i bond with kids at a court i go to and i express myself, albeit lying in the process. although, i feel free there.

after long weeks of destressing externally, unable to find hope within the people around me, my spark has been ignited, the strokes of my keyboard fueling the energy behind the words i write. emotions have scattered hundreds of poems in a corner of a notes app: where so much pain, and joy, lies reflected in the titles and beginning lines. anyone reading them could be heartstruck, concerned, moved, and that's the beauty of poetry. poetry reflects what's within all of us in one way or another, and that's why the passion identity behind it shall never f a d e a w a y or escape me completely.

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variousqueerthings · 3 years ago

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Johnny and ADHD

alright, I’ve wanted to write something about ADHD Johnny for awhile now.

Waaay back in February @deliciousbananavoidpurse made this post and I made some haphazard additions, but now, at last, I ramble!

This isn’t really an addition to that list so much as a... idk, seeing it from an almost fic-but-kind-of-meta point of view. Those points In Practise, with an additional young Johnny.

Johnny’s a kid. He and his mom have been living hand-to-mouth for as long as he remembers, in and out of schools, in and out of apartments and cars. Of course he’s going to be flighty, spaced-out, unfocused.

He’s an easy target – not very big (he doesn’t get a lot of good meals), dirty clothes, and… weird. He gets beaten up sometimes, but mostly he sticks as much to himself as he can and doesn’t go to school if he can help it. Laura saves up and gets him a walkman.

After that it’s like the world doesn’t exist to him at all.

She thinks that’s easier than trying to make him live in it. But he deserves better. They both do. So she makes a decision that changes everything…

Johnny’s not going hungry these days. In fact, he eats constantly, like he’s making up for lost time. His clothes are new and he gets anything he wants. He’s enrolled in school properly.

But Johnny himself doesn’t change much. He’s vibrating with an energy he can’t explain – normal for boys – he skips school, he goes off somewhere in his own mind, struggles with making friends, gets into fights he can’t win, and all day he listens to music. Still skinny, still flighty, still weird.

Tries new things that become all-encompassing for him and drops them one day to the next – normal for boys, all normal for boys – and then -

Johnny sees those boys: Tall, broad, leather jackets, rad bikes, shining, beautiful. He watches them through the window for hours, transfixed in a way only riding his bike and listening to music used to do.

He joins Cobra Kai.

And finally, like a dam breaking, he focuses. He focuses like he’s a machine. Like nothing else matters. He takes everything happening at home, every beating he ever took, every failing grade (he tries, but school never manages to matter – the other Cobras help, simply by being there and sometimes especially Bobby forces him to sit down and write a paper, but he’ll never be smart, that’s fine), and he puts them into his fist.

He trusts Kreese to tell him what to think, what to feel, what to do. Finally, finally, everything makes sense. It’s just him and his body and someone he trusts telling him what to do with it.

Nothing else matters.

There are other things that matter.

He’s getting his life in order so he can leave Sid’s and take his Mom with him. He’s going to be the right kind of boyfriend to Ali. He’ll do well enough in his final year to make up for the previous ones, and he’s got karate, and Kreese, who’s telling him he’s the champ.

Who he can trust.

But he gets into trouble, he drinks, his grades continue to slip, and suddenly (or is it gradually, he can’t tell with time sometimes) Ali is telling him he’s changed – angry, volatile, forgetful, (okay he was always forgetful, but it’s getting worse – is karate the only thing he cares about?), but it’s fine, he can fix that too. He just has to change everything that doesn’t work. If he can be that good at karate, it just means he’s not trying hard enough everywhere else. Just needs to try harder.

Just. Easy. He has a plan. He has a hundred plans.

It all blows up in his face and suddenly he’s faced with the truth: that there really is nothing he’s good for. Karate? What’s that ever gotten him? What else has he got to show for it?

He’s still just the same kid he was – alright, he’s bigger, babes will stop and check him out, he’s learned how to charm people if he has to, but those are just scripts and they don’t work for long if he doesn’t have anything else to back them up and they bore him - they bore him in ways he thinks have gotta be different to what everyone else means when they say they’re bored.

He doesn’t have a plan. He has a hundred plans. He doesn’t have anyone to tell him what to do. He doesn’t know what to do. He knows what to do.

He drinks more. What does it matter, he’s young, life’s short, there’s nothing he can learn now (and really, if you know a couple of things you can scrape by – when they turn off the lights he knows he forgot to pay the bills, when he gets arrested he knows he fucked up and let his emotions get away with him), and before he knows it it’s 2002.

His mom dies. Robby is born. Someone smarter than him could figure out some kind of poetic meaning behind that, but he’s not smart, so he just lets the moments pass him by like everything else has passed him by.

He’s getting by with what he knows. The world outside is like a blur. He’s got what he’s always had: music, a car, his looks. He’s doing okay for someone in his mid-thirties who doesn’t know how to boil spaghetti and drinks first thing in the morning.

Probably all the fighting. He kept it up, informally. Maybe because it’s too deep in his bones for him to let go of, even if it just reminds him over and over that he couldn’t take it. That he can’t take it.

He fights whenever it all gets to be too much and even the drinking doesn’t work. Sometimes he punches walls to fight himself. It’s like a sharp feeling that he can’t ignore that can only be silenced with fighting. The off-button.

2017 (again, the past is a blur. 2017? what happened to thirty-five? What happened to being young? Someone who’s young is allowed to be like this, but he’s…)

He never owned a computer. He never learned new words or anything else that wasn’t immediately important. He makes a handshake deal, because his credit is shit, but also because he never figured out how contracts really work. He still struggles with bills (you can leave anything to the last minute and beyond and things can still turn out okay), struggles with communication. His old scripts don’t work any more and he can’t learn new ones. He’s forgotten enough promises he made to watch Robby’s matches or drive him to school – even his birthday sometimes, even when he writes it down and forgets where he wrote it down - that Robby wants nothing more to do with him. Forgets groceries.

He’ll do or say something and people will look at him like he’s stupid and he doesn’t know why. He refuses to ask, because he just wants the looks to go away. He knows he’s stupid. He knows he can’t figure things out. He knows, okay? Shut up.

He’s not an alcoholic. He just drinks to wake up. To forget. To calm down (that electricity that existed in his body as a kid never went away, even though he’s so so tired. The machine inside of him that won’t shut off without a fight, won’t let him stop moving). To sleep. To drink. To do something.

He sees Miguel and has a hundred new plans. He sees the future like it’s right there and a million miles away. He was never good at implementing long-term plans. He thinks maybe karate can save him, just like it did when he was a kid.

There’s something wrong with his brain. Has been all his life. That’s not how he was told, he was given a bunch of tests and gently informed – undiagnosed it can lead to some of the problems you’ve had, it’s normal, it’s okay – like he’s dying of cancer. But that’s the gist of it. He didn’t fuck up because he didn’t try hard enough, he was always going to fuck up. That doesn’t make him feel better.

It means quitting the alcohol is gonna fail. It means he really is stupid. It means he could’ve never been the kid his mom needed. It means he was easy for Kreese to manipulate. It means Robby could be fucked up too and he’s failed him again. It means he’s not worth the time and pain that people invest in him, like his mom, Ali, Shannon, Robby, Bobby, Miguel, Carmen, Daniel -

“Hey.”

It means he’s got Emotional Dysregulation. Translated: he’s the kind of man who has to work extra hard not to cry (explains why he was such a pussy as a kid. Also explains all the pain in his chest and throat right before roughly... 70% of his most recent fights). And fuck, he just failed.

“What?” Anger is better. It’s also a dysregulation apparently, but it’s better than being weak.

“It’s okay,” says Daniel, and of course he’d think that – he’s never seen a nameable problem he didn’t wanna fix, but didn’t you hear LaRusso, you can’t fix this. Never could.

“It’s not about fixing,” answers Daniel. “It’s about understanding. It’s about knowing who you are. If you know who you are, you can make a choice.”

“What kinda choice do I have?”

Daniel shrugs. “You chose to take in Miguel. You chose not to fight me, more times than I chose to fight you in the last couple of years. You chose that you wanted to know who you were. And you chose to try being sober. Those are all good decisions in my book. Anything else… we can figure things out from here. Trust me.”

He places a hand on the back of Johnny’s neck, grounding him. Daniel has that power. The power to make everything okay for a second.

Johnny thinks: Please tell me what to do. I was always okay once you gave me something to do. Like karate. Figuring things out is… too abstract. Eventually though, he knows, if he’s patient, Daniel will tell him what to do next.

He just has to trust him.

9. (Extra: things Johnny does, because of the brain he has)

Johnny trusts easily, despite it all. He’s honest (and sometimes too literal). He’s passionate. He’s driven. He’s loving. He feels, so so much. He’s protective and he’s loyal. He tries his hardest, even when everything – including his own brain – refuses to help. He believes in second chances for others (and he’s beginning to believe in it for himself). He’s good with kids when he lets himself be. He’s learning to be gentle with himself and others. He’s learning that bravery takes many shapes. He’s learning that he can learn, and he’s learning what he needs for that to happen. He’s a good mentor. He’s learning to be a better friend. He’s kind. He’s honourable. He’s trying to rectify his own mistakes, and he’s trying not to let the mistakes of others continue to impact his life. He’s moving forwards.

#johnny lawrence #ck #cobra kai #the karate kid #nd johnny #cobra kai meta #my writing #oh hai i love johnny lawrence a lot...

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Venti and Barbara: Relationship HCs

of course^^ I think Venti and Barbara are really cute together haha. To be fair, this could have gotten really sad but I’m trying really hard to stop making everyone suffer.

I did no research on this. I just used whatever knowledge I had stored in my brain but my brain has been turned into mush. But I hope you still like it anon!

Lads. I’m so tired. That Venti, Dvalin, and Andrius one took so much out of me. Tbh I don’t know if anyone would like it since it’s such a rare pairing but I hope you did because I wanna turn into spaghetti. Damn, trying to use paint to make headers doesn’t really work out haha.

---

Alright, today’s appreciation post goes to toxic-luck. I really wish I could tag these people but tumblr absolutely craps itself whenever I do it [which I don’t understand why and it makes me really mad] but hopefully you see this haha.

Istg you and a couple others [I’m gonna be dedicating the next couple appreciation posts for you all^^ ] are actually speed it’s kinda scary but tyty 💕💕💕 I’ve seen you pop up a lot and I just wanted to let you know that hey, I like you and you’re a lovely person.

---

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz

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Venti and Barbara: Relationship HCs

Barbara refuses and still continues to refuse that Venti is actually Barbatos. The archon that she has prayed and dedicated her cause to CANNOT be a alcohol obsessed bard that goes around pulling pranks on everyone. Her mental state would not be able to handle it. No matter how many times Venti tells her otherwise she suddenly can’t hear him. The acoustic’s in here are terrible or the wind is too loud where Venti himself knows that, no there aren’t any winds. He’s the anemo archon. He can do that. Barbara ple-

Despite how they seem on the surface, Barbara and Venti really like each other’s voices and fully admit to it. They have different styles and Barbara has even tried to hint at Venti to teach her his melodies that she still has troubles with. Barbara was kind of nervous to be teased at when she first approached Venti, since that’s just his nature. But to her surprise he was incredibly sincere and brought her to the Windrise tree to practice. He would strum his lyre while giving pointers to Barbara and it would a nice bonding experience for them that later turned into small lunch dates.

Meanwhile, Venti think’s it’s so cute and fascinating that Mondstadt has evolved to where music has went from bards singing in taverns to actual concerts. Venti isn’t interested in the idol lifestyle but he enjoys supporting Barbara and carrying her voice throughout the winds. If anyone asks the acoustics are just that good in Mondstadt. You can thank the anemo archon for that and you should definitely buy a green bard a glass of wine for good acoustic luck.

When Venti makes his special “A Buoyant Breeze” for Barbara he always makes sure to include the heart which makes Barbara flush pink and ignores it. Which leads Venti to pout and whine like an overgrown spoiled cat, even though he’s allergic to them, until Barbara gives up on her man-child of a partner and says that it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten as if Barbatos himself blessed it. She has to get on her hands and knees begging and pleading that “Venti please stop, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it and I will never disgrace the time and effort you put into making this hear-why are you laughing you tone-deaf bard?!”

Venti is a bit of a troublemaker and thought that since Barbara was his partner, that somehow gave him free reign to do whatever he wanted in the Church. It’s always amusing to others, like Jean, when she sees her sister scolding an archon that no, he cannot burst into service because he was bored. Really everyone knows that Venti just misses her and uses any excuse to see her. They were basically praying to him so it was fine right?

Barbara and Venti made an unlikely couple and appeared more like siblings with Venti’s constant teasing and Barbara having none of it. But when it’s come to pray in the Church, Barbara puts her heart and soul into everything which both makes Venti happy and sad. He’s happy that Barbara was dedicated to the Archon of Freedom but sad that he wasn’t exactly within her expectations.

But Barbara has been healing people and making sure everyone was okay, that no matter how much Venti grins or smiles she knows. So she goes to the statue of seven in windrise, right under the giant tree, and prays out loud to Barbatos that she has the best partner in the world who was hectic, made her life a complete mess, constantly played pranks on her, and might be the cause of too many headaches. But that he was also talented and showed her that she had the freedom to pursue anything she set her heart out to do. That she loved him and all his teasing ways.

Whenever Barbara has her 10 second bouts of sadness, a feather always lands next to her and tickles her face until she starts laughing. Then Venti will suddenly and magically appear and drag her off to a lively tavern where they can both sing a duet. By the time the night is over, she had forgotten what made her upset in the first place.

---

I should probably mention that character x character fics/hcs are going to be a bit shorter than my usual posts. Sorry did I say a bit shorter? Because I’m down to dedicate another fic to this. I love them both.

But feel free to send any other character x character if you have them. Honestly these are just crack fics.

I really wanna see someone make a Barbara and Venti clip of them singing to “Anything you can do, I can do better” I would donate my kidney for that. Has that been made? I know someone has but I don’t think it was Barbara and Venti.

I got one more pairing to write and then it’s time to commit sleep. For a whole hour. I need to learn pacing because I’m gonna end up collapsing into myself before I finish everything.

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years ago

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falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.

#falcon #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #mcu #marvel #falcon falcon goose!#sam wilson imagine #falcon imagine #bucky barnes #please don’t judge this mess

79 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years ago

Text

ssw | sweetpea; wondering what his kiss feels like. | fluff.

NOTES:

Okay, so.. Apparently my brain likes to torment me. Because earlier, I was going to outline the next chapter for my Sweetpea x Andrews!OFC fic Gangsta and my brain threw out a casual, “But have you considered.. Using the Lodge!OFC you were planning to use with Reggie Mantle.. With Sweetpea?” and this kind of.. came.

So.. if enough people are interested, I may be considering actually writing them a fic or doing more of these little things based around them.. and trying to delve more into possibly pairing Alyssa with Reggie? Because when I wrote their oneshot I felt like there was potential there too... Also, this one shot is a direct result of me, watching dirty dancing reenactments on tik tok and my love for the movie + the fact that Riverdale does musicals every season...

Anyway, enjoy?

PROMPTS:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

the way he says your name / his fingers sliding between your own / wondering what your kiss feels like - these are the inspo prompts used for this oneshot.

FANDOM / CHARACTER

Riverdale / Sweetpea x Lodge!OFC, Marlena

OTHER WORKS SWEET PEA X MARLENA ARE USED IN

None BUT.. That could change, idk..

WARNINGS

Intense sexual tension. Arguing back and forth as a love language until someone snaps. Mutual crushes that turn into something more.. This one is absolutely safe for the kiddos aside from a few swears and the like.. Oh and one barely elaborated on incident of thigh riding / dirty dancing.

TAGGING

There’s absolutely no one on my Riverdale taglist. If you want to be on it, please let me know. Or add yourself to the link below.

OTHER STUFF

[ faq | sfw masterlist - safe for the kiddos but read with caution | tag list ]

“I swear to God, if she doesn’t give me more, I’m going to fall asleep. Is this really all we could find to participate in the musical for you guys?” My sister's question drew me out of a silent stare war with Sweetpea across the auditorium. He rolled his eyes and I stuck out my tongue at him before turning my attention back to my older sister, sighing as I glanced in the direction of the stage up front. “ She’s not that bad.. I mean at least she had the guts to try out for a part?” I mused quietly, shaking my head. Disappointed at myself because I hadn’t signed up.

Stage fright is one hell of a deterrent. And I knew that if I had tried out, no matter how well I knew the movie we were doing our musical adaptation of this year, when opening night came and those curtains opened and I saw all those people sitting out in the seats? I was going to freeze. I’d completely ruin the show. I didn’t want that.

The best I could do was at least offer to do costumes for Kevin. I told myself that behind the scenes was still helping and being supportive but deep down, ugh.. I wanted to do so much more.

If I were half as brave as my older sister Veronica is when it comes to this kind of stuff… Everyone has their fears though. Mine just happen to be public speaking in front of large audiences. My sister tells me constantly that it doesn’t make sense because I can go all over competing in dance stuff and there’s a crowd there, but.. When I’m dancing, I’m focused on footwork. On steps and the music and the way it makes me feel. I don’t have to speak.

This is also ironic when you take into consideration I am not a shy girl by any stretch of the imagination. I’m actually quite vocal. But when it involves speaking in public?

I freeze. I shut down and in turn, I wind up looking like an idiot.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice that Veronica had gotten up out of her seat and walked over, taking the seat right beside Kevin. They were whispering back and forth. I laughed softly because knowing my sister, she was probably telling Kevin that Leah needed to find a better attitude or Kevin needed to find a better person to play Baby Housemann.

Oh, if only I had one tenth of a clue.

My sister came back over, sinking down into the seat next to me. “Feel better now?” I asked her, barely hiding my amusement as I said it. She giggled and nodded. “Much better. I want you to remember how much you love me…” she muttered.

I raised a brow. “What’s that even mean?”

“Just wait.”

“What the hell did you do, Ronnie?”

“You’ll find out, Marlena. Just wait.” Veronica wouldn’t give me any more of an answer than that. Grumbling to myself, I settled back in my seat and tried to focus on the ongoing argument between Leah and Kevin from the stage.

Rolling my eyes at her audacity. Literally anyone could’ve done her part better and she had the nerve to demand Kevin to change everything to fit her? Refusing to work with him on anything? Putting down the script when it was the same one they used in the movie?

Just the thought of it had me shaking my head and muttering to myself about the entitlement and audacity. Veronica gave a soft laugh and leaned in, mocking the way she’d delivered her last line and the fact that she wanted pretty much all her dialogue changed and constantly needed reasons why her character did anything they did.

“Marlena! Hey, Marlena, where are you?” Kevin was calling my name. I looked up from the whispered conversation I’d been having with my older sister Veronica and raised my hand, waiting.

“C’mon. I want to try something. Leah’s just not cutting it for me as Baby.” Kevin called out to me as he gave Leah an irritated dirty look. Leah threw down her script and walked out of the auditorium in a huff. “This is a stupid idea for a musical anyway. Nothing’s gonna top what the seniors are doing. Good luck, jackass.”

Veronica gave me a nudge and with a soft laugh, she leaned in, smiling as she whispered into my ear, “You were born for this, Marlena. Dirty Dancing is your all time favorite movie.”

“Excuse me? I thought we both established it was Crybaby. Then Grease. Then Dirty Dancing.” I teased, standing in a hurry. My sister’s rebuttal to this was to point out with a soft laugh that I definitely had my own special vibe and type of guy. I poked out my tongue at her and turned away. Making my way towards the front of the auditorium where Kevin stood.

Once I was up there, Kevin pressed a copy of our class’s script into my hands. “Congratulations, you’ve been promoted from costumes.” he smirked at me. “I have a feeling about you and this part. As a director, I’m going to go with my gut.”

“But I didn’t sign up..” I shuffled my feet.

“ Yeah, well, the ones who did from your class obviously don’t care enough to bother showing up to practice or don’t care enough to give their best when they actually bother to come and we’re rehearsing.” Kevin shrugged. Taking his seat.

Alex, the guy who’d been cast as Johnny Castle, walked over. Wrinkling his nose at me as soon as he stood in front of me. Arms folded over his chest as he asked Kevin in a snobbish tone, “So we’re seriously just letting stage crew have parts now, Keller? Is that what this is? I thought you were going to help us make our musical better, not make it a massive failure.”

“Asshole.” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes as I stepped up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. Giving him a piece of my mind because holy hell did his holier than thou attitude ever irritate me, “I’ll have you know, I probably know this movie line for line. I can probably do all the dances blindfolded, in a wheelchair. Who the hell do you think you are anyway? I saw you in Romeo and Juliet. I have never fallen asleep so fast in my entire life.” I smirked as I went quiet, rolling my eyes at him.

Alex chuckled and rolled his eyes right back at me, making the dismissive remark in response, “Did I ask you to speak? Did I address you directly? No. I didn’t. I was talking to the director. Don’t you have costumes to make or something? You’re holding up rehearsals.”

Out towards the back of the auditorium, I heard my sister cheering me on. Clapping and whistling. Telling me to give him hell and telling Alex he was awfully full of himself for someone who got a thumbs down by a New York theater critic over the summer.

I took a deep breath and glanced down at the script in my hands. Starting to read over it. Ignoring the argument between Kevin and Alex for the most part. Just trying to get myself in character while I waited.

Alex grumbled and stormed back over, standing near me. His posturing tense and a supremely annoyed look in his eyes as he gave me half a second’s glance. Kevin gave the cue to start and Alex read his line first.

“Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.”

Before I even got a chance to read off my line, Kevin was standing up. Making his way towards us. “You two are supposed to be dancing together. Marlena, you need to stand closer. Alex, you need to deliver the line in more of a teasing tone. Like you’re trying to taunt her. Playful. Not like you’re actually being an asshole. Like you’re flirting with her.”

“She’s not my type.” Alex rolled his eyes as he glanced at me. I glared up at him, a hand on my hip. Dangerously close to exploding all over again. I kept everything I’d been about to say to myself though, and with a deep breath, I listened as Kevin gave us both advice. Smirking to myself a little when he lit into Alex for being a drama queen.

After Kevin finished telling us what to fix, we prepared to try again. I stepped closer. Found myself glancing out in the crowd. My eyes settled on Sweetpea.

I found him watching the whole thing play out with an amused smirk. His arms folded over his chest. Holding my gaze boldly. Daring me to look away first. I refused. If I looked away first, that gave him the upper hand. I was not about to give him that.

,, That jackass. Look at him. All smug.. Ugh, I just wanna punch his stupid sexy face.” the thought surfaced and I quickly did my best at shoving it out again. I found myself thinking about a heated argument we’d had in the hallway earlier.

I found myself kind of drawing parallels between him and the character Alex was supposed to be playing but doing a terrible job at playing. I couldn’t work with the performance Alex was giving, he wasn’t giving me anything to work with.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, I found myself replaying my earlier argument with Sweetpea. Stepping closer to Alex. Doing my best to play at a lack of experience in dance, despite my vast experience and love for it. Getting immersed in the role. Imagining myself as the character Baby.. And not Alex but Sweetpea as Johnny Castle.

Alex delivered his line a second time. His delivery wasn’t much better. Kevin grumbled to himself and made his way over yet again. This time, Kevin’s problem with the scene had absolutely nothing to do with me.

He addressed me first. “Please, please please.. You have to play Baby. You have to.” he gave me a pleading look. “I’m prepared to beg, okay?”

I pretended to mull it over. Smiling as I nodded. “Okay, alright.. I can still do costumes though, right? Because I already have a ton of ideas drawn up..” I shuffled my feet, giving Kevin a pleading look.

“Yeah! Definitely. You’re the only one I trust to do the costumes right, Marlena.” Kevin answered quickly.

He turned his attention to Alex and they got into a heated argument. Alex blamed his performance on me and the fact that I seemed standoffish and that I wasn’t up to his level and shouldn’t even be sharing a stage with him to begin with. Insisting that Kevin should at least give Josie McCoy a chance to play Baby in our play. She already had her hands full with the senior class musical and her performance during intermission and Kevin pointed that out.

“Josie can’t do both musicals and intermission twice, Alex. That’s asking way too much. Even from her, man. Marlena is Baby. You can adapt to that or you’re welcome to leave.” Kevin stood firm in his decision.

Alex eyed me and I stood taller. Smirking up at him. More than a little amused by the entire thing. He chuckled. Shrugging as he tossed down the script he’d been holding in his hands. “Fine. Try to find somebody else to do a better job at playing Johnny. See how that works out. I’m done. I refuse to participate in this mockery.”

He stormed out of the auditorium.

My sister Veronica and Josie McCoy shared a look and a nod. Veronica stood. Josie shot up out of her seat also and the two jogged over to Kevin. Getting him off to the corner of the auditorium. As the three of them whispered back and forth, I stood there, shuffling my feet. Reading ahead in the script.

Taking it all in.

Honestly enjoying the fact that I was going to be playing Baby Housemann in the junior class musical immensely more than I thought I would. ,, until opening night when you’re on stage in front of everyone and you either freeze, bolt out of the room or throw up everywhere.” my mind taunted.

I shoved out the intrusive thought.

Kevin chuckled out loud. Getting so excited that he didn’t keep his voice down when he spoke up. “Your minds, I swear. Yeah, we’re gonna try that. Right now, actually.” Kevin told my sister and Josie. They smirked at each other and as they walked past me, Veronica gave me a wink.

And almost as soon as she did, I braced myself. Because I have the sneaking suspicion that my sister was up to something. And if that something had to do with a certain Serpent reading against me as Johnny Castle?

I was literally going to die. I’d be totally doomed.

,, maybe not.” and even the surprise optimism had me laughing at myself because I knew better.

“Sweetpea, can you come up here, man?” Kevin called out.

I tensed just a little. Took a deep breath. Suddenly I knew exactly what my sister had been up to but my question now was why had Josie taken part in the whole idea? I thought she was dating him? They were hot and heavy at Cheryl’s party a few weeks ago and they went places together a lot …

I prayed for a portal to another dimension to open in the stage and take me out. If my sister has even slightly hinted that I may or may not have feelings for the giant jerk to anyone I swear to God.. I’ll die.

Sweetpea hopped over the chair in front of him and walked down the long aisle, stopping where Kevin sat in the front row. The two were whispering back and forth and more than one time, Sweetpea glanced back at me. Smirking. Chuckling as he listened to what Kevin was telling him and rubbing his chin as he pretended to think something over.

Sweetpea looked over at me and shrugged as he answered Kevin. “I can try. I’m not makin any promises though because I don’t dance and I’ve never seen this movie.”

“Just trust me. You’re as Johnny as Johnny gets, Pea.” Kevin encouraged. I wanted to kick him so badly at that moment. Did he seriously have to encourage Sweetpea? There had to be someone else… anyone else. Someone I didn’t have a massive crush on and yet also want to strangle.

I pretended to stick my finger down my throat and gag, as per usual when Sweetpea locked eyes with me again as he walked towards where I stood..

,, because God forbid you let him even get an ounce of suspicion that you have a crush on the guy.” my brain was at it again with the taunting. I pushed it all down deep and took a deep breath or two.

“You did this just to be an asshole.” I muttered.

“No, I did this because Kevin’s my friend. Not everything I do is about pissing you off, princess.” Sweetpea chuckled as he said it. Adding in a quieter tone, “Just because you’re Marlena Lodge… That doesn’t make everything about you.”

My jaw set and I glared up at him. Taking a deep breath or two. Reminding myself that despite Sweetpea now reading as Johnny Castle, I still loved this movie and I wanted our class’s play to be worth watching. That I couldn’t mess this up. I couldn’t let Sweetpea taunt and torment me into messing this up either.

I didn’t want to disappoint Kevin because he was one of my best friends. He was depending on me to at least try to do my best here.

Kevin gave the signal for us to start from the top of the scene.

I stepped closer. My body brushing against Sweetpea’s. Sweetpea mirrored this and grabbed hold of my arms, pulling them out in front of me just like Patrick Swayze did in the actual movie as he recited the line.

And the tone in his voice, oh my god.

“Look, spaghetti arms. This is my dance space. This is your dance space. I don't go into yours, you don't go into mine. You gotta hold the frame.”

I responded with my line. Stepping closer, even throwing in an accidental mis-step on the top of his foot on my own.

Kevin continued to sit, watching us rehearse. By the time we got to the scene where Johnny is telling Baby that he got fired, I could feel more people’s eyes on us. And I swallowed hard, trying not to focus on being watched and how that felt, but instead, on the script. On what I had to say and how I felt like it needed to come across.

And maybe, in my own mind, I was imagining how I’d act if I were in Baby’s shoes. Having just argued with my father about the guy I was in love with only to turn and find out that despite my own optimism at convincing the guy to do the right thing, nothing worked out the way I wanted at all.

Sweetpea must have caught on to my anxiety because he muttered quietly, “You good, princess?” as he covertly brushed his hand against mine. Clearing his throat to get my attention and keep me from getting nervous and blanking out or bolting off the stage.

I gazed up at him a second or two, finally nodding. Managing to ground myself somehow and I tried my best to convince myself it was not because Sweetpea’s fingers laced through mine. Almost as if he’d caught hold of my hand to keep me from leaving.

,, He’s just doing that because it’s in the script. You’re supposed to be having a heated discussion and you’re about to walk away upset. That’s the only reason he grabbed your hand. It has nothing to do with the fact that you kind of freaked out a little and lost your focus.” I reminded myself grimly as I caught up to where we were on the page and took a deep breath, preparing for my turn to speak.

As I delivered my next line, “So I did it for nothing.I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway-- I did it for nothing!” I wanted to disappear into the stage floor when my sister stood up in her chair, clapping and whistling. But the way I said it sounded so wistful. Disappointed and bitter. Like I was truly hurting.

Sweet Pea said his line. “No, no, not for nothin', Baby! Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before.” and I paused. Staring up at him. Blown away because he sounded so sincere too. Like for a second or two, this was really taking place and it wasn’t just some silly rehearsal. Like he meant what he was saying.

But I knew he didn’t. We tolerate each other at best. At our worst, we’re at each other’s throats constantly. Finding any and all excuses to rip into each other or push the other’s buttons. Because it’s just what we do.

But his tone. The look in his eyes when he delivered the line. The way his eyes fixed on me, searching. Waiting.

“It’s your turn, princess.. Cat got your tongue?” he muttered under his breath to draw me out of my own inner turmoil.

I took a deep breath and scanned the page. Finding my next line. “You were right, Johnny. You can't win no matter what you do!” and I could feel him staring as I said it. Biting his lip when I lazily punched at his chest because it felt like the right thing to do in the heat of the moment to show how upset the character was. I shook my head and dropped my eyes. “You were right.” I muttered in a quieter tone.

Sweetpea reached out, rough fingertips gripping my jawline. Guiding my eyes back up to meet his as he replied with the next line, “You listen to me. I don't wanna hear that from you. You can!”

And again, it sounded so real. Emotional. Like we were really having this argument. I was really getting into this. Probably a little too much for my own good. I sighed and shook my head sadly. Biting my lip as I stepped away a little and continued to shake my head, arguing back, “I used to think so.” and after a second or two, adding in a quieter tone, “Now I don’t know anymore.” even though it wasn’t in the script.

Sweetpea was staring at me. Thoughtful. Intent. Almost as if he were actually seeing me and not all the stupid things he’d written me off as from the word go on the first time we met. He cleared his throat and that shit-eating smirk was back again. “Not too bad, huh?”

“Jackass.” I muttered, mostly to myself. Still a little dazed.

Kevin called for a break and made his way over.

“Okay, we’re going to take this all the way from the beginning tomorrow. I wish I’d done this sooner. We’re going to have to practice the lift next. Because the lift is iconic. We have to pull that off or I’m gonna want to punch myself in the throat.” Kevin was excited, rambling away a mile a minute.

Sweetpea spoke up. “What about my part in the senior musical?”

“You can do both. We’ll move the junior musical to a different night. You have to do this. C’mon…”

Sweetpea grumbled and finally muttered with a shrug, “Okay, alright. Fine. Shit. I’ll do it. But I’m not wearing tights, are we clear?”

“You really haven’t seen the movie at all… have you?” I scoffed as I gazed up at Sweetpea. He mimicked me and shrugged. “I’ve seen bits of it. But I know one thing and that’s dancers wear tights. I’m not wearing tights. Not happenin.”

“For your information, you big idiot, Patrick Swayze does not wear tights a single time in this movie. At least not that I remember and I’ve seen it a thousand times... Suit and tie, maybe.”

Sweetpea grumbled and raised a brow.

“Not for the whole movie, damn it.. Black jeans and a black shirt will suffice for most of it. You can even wear your leather jacket, you big man-baby. Johnny Castle wears one in the movie.” I answered. Stepping closer to him to sort of get a visual read on his measurements so that when the time came I at least kind of had an idea of what worked. Sweetpea chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair as he gazed down at me. “See something you like, princess?”

“I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna need for your costume, dingus.” I replied as calmly as possible.

“Ya know, you could always just measure me… Right? Or ask me my size?”

“Oh you’d enjoy that entirely too much. And I’d have to touch you. No, nope. No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“I’m gonna have to touch you anyway. That lift or whatever it was that had Kevin rambling just now.” Sweetpea barely hid his amusement as he stepped even closer. A hand at my hip. Lingering.

For a second or two, I was lost in his eyes and totally oblivious to anything going on around us and then Kevin shattered that by starting the last song of the musical and calling for everyone to take their places.

And from the crowd, Fangs spoke up.

“Hey babe.. What if we got all the extras from the clubhouse scene to come in through the crowd? Just like the movie?” Fangs was smirking at both Sweetpea and I as he spoke up. Enjoying this entire situation way too much.

“Fangs, you brilliant and beautiful man, this is exactly why I love you so much.” Kevin smirked as he rubbed his chin and called out. “Okay, if you were an extra in the clubhouse scene, go to the doors of the auditorium. When Fangs gives the signal, you’ll come in. Dancing.”

He turned to Sweetpea. “You go with them.”

Sweetpea managed to break the staredown we had going on and he nodded. Grumbling as he walked towards the front of the auditorium.

Everything went pretty well until we got to the part where I was supposed to run to Sweetpea and he was supposed to lift me over his head. I took off, running towards him.

I missed the mark. Wound up with my legs wrapped around his waist, clinging for dear life while he staggered back just a little. Both of us arguing about whose fault it was that we messed up.

Kevin cleared his throat.

“You guys need more practice. Maybe you could rehearse together?”

Sweetpea and I glanced at each other, mulling it over.

“Fine.” Sweetpea ground out through a jaw tightly clenched. A glance at Fangs revealed that the reason he agreed without a huge fight was probably something to do with the way Fangs was giving him a demanding look.

“Fine.” I answered. Swallowing hard.

Trying to pull myself together because frankly, I was still all sorts of stirred up from the way he’d actually caught me and the fact that no, I hadn’t wanted him to put me back on my feet at the end, either.

I spoke up again. “We can do it at the bunker.” I suggested. Trying to think of a neutral place that didn’t favor either of us heavily. A place we could hopefully be alone and focus. And probably scream and shove and storm away to cool off if things got too heated.

“8 work for you or does daddy let you out past your bedtime, princess?” Sweetpea taunted, smirking at me when I glared and rolled my eyes.

“ I do what I want.” I scoffed at his parting jab.

From behind me, my sister spoke up. “Are you ready, Marlena?” as she looked back and forth between Sweetpea and I with an amused grin.

“Yeah. We need to get going.” I answered.

As my sister and I walked out of the auditorium, my sister gave a soft laugh. “That wasn’t so bad, huh? I knew you could do it.”

“Oh shut up.” I grumbled, managing a weak smile. “We haven’t made it to the night of yet. Don’t jinx this. Remember what happened last time I had to get up in front of people and talk in any capacity?”

“Marlena, that was kindergarten. Maybe it’ll be different.”

“Veronica, I threw up everywhere. And not gracefully, either. It was a full on projectile vomit.”

“That was something. The chemistry between you and Sweetpea in there. I felt like I was actually watching the movie.”

“He’s an ass. And he hates me, remember?”

“Yeah, well.. It didn’t look that way to me, Marlena. If he hated you, he wouldn’t have been standing so close the entire time… or the way he grabbed your hand?” my sister questioned.

I shrugged it off. “Can we change the subject?”

“Why? Afraid I might be right?” my sister teased, as usual.

TIME SKIP

“Okay, if he’s not here in ten minutes, I’m leaving. This place gives me the creeps.” I muttered to myself almost the exact second that I managed to find a spiderweb with my face and shriek about it.

Low chuckling from behind me had me turning. Finding myself body to body with Sweetpea as he tried not to laugh.

“Do you talk to yourself a lot or do I make you that nervous, princess?” he taunted. I gave a light shove and stepped away, pouting up at him. Quick to argue that he didn’t make me nervous, not at all, not even a little.

Despite knowing that the truth of the matter was yes. Yes, he made me extremely nervous. Because he was so distinctly my type and I just longed for what I knew wouldn’t ever work out between us because we were entirely too different.

“In other words, yes. I make you that nervous.” Sweetpea’s jaw set in a line and I flinched a little. Not wanting to fight with him.

I quickly changed the subject, nodding to a little tv and dvd player I’d rigged up earlier and the brown paper bags with Pop’s logo on the front.

“We need to rehearse. Not whatever this is.” Sweetpea was still irritated.

“Yes, well.. You’re never going to realize just how huge a part of the story Johnny Castle is until you’ve seen the movie.”

Sweetpea rubbed his chin in thought. “How long is this fucking movie?”

“Maybe two hours? C’mon… Or do you have a hot date waiting?” -the hint of jealousy that crept into my tone was enough to make me tense up a little. Pray to God he hadn’t picked up on it. Lucky for me, he didn’t seem to, instead, he was already digging into the grease stained paper bags, grabbing himself a burger and fries.

Sprawling on the little twin sized bed.

I dug out my own food and sat down, close to the edge of the bed, careful not to sit too close to him because I didn’t want to crowd him or annoy him or give him the wrong impression.. Or in my case, the right impression though I’d die before admitting that to him.

After hitting play on the DVD player, the opening title splashed across the screen and I smiled, settling into my chosen seat just a little more comfortably.

About thirty minutes into the movie, I could feel his eyes fixed on me. I turned to look back at him, a brow raised. “What?”

“You know every single line.”

I felt my cheeks burn a little, shrugging it off as I nodded. Answering through a mouth full, “When we were little.. Veronica and I used to watch this movie whenever it was raining or we were sick. We’d get cozy in one of our rooms with snacks and blankets and we’d just like… imagine life being that simple. Doesn’t help that Johnny Castle is - to quote my sister, “Totally your kind of man.” “ I gave a sheepish laugh and took a handful of my fries, raking them through my milkshake.

Sweetpea rose to sit. Leaning in a little. Extending his arm and wiping his thumb over the corner of his mouth as he cleared his throat. “You had some milkshake…” before falling silent all over again. Staring at me for seconds that seemed to stretch infinitely. It felt like everything fell away. All that remained was that thick tension. The flickering of the candles I’d lit earlier against the wall. The tension got to me. It had everything I wanted to say but couldn’t find the nerve threatening to come out.

“I don’t bite, ya know.” he muttered quietly. Pulling away a little. That look in his eyes again.

It hit me. He honestly thought I disliked him. Or thought that I was better than him. Nothing could be further from the truth and realizing how he must have felt and what probably fuelled most of the comments and the arguments between us was the fact that he thought I viewed him as a lesser person somehow… that really got to me.

“I, uh.. I didn’t want to crowd you.” I managed to get the words out after a few seconds. Not daring to look at him. Desperate for a rewind button so maybe I could go back in time to when I first met him and salvage everything.

Desperate to tell him how I really felt.

Especially when I remembered what Veronica mentioned earlier about the way Josie just shut him out.

“Oh.”

The movie caught our attention again. After a minute or two of sitting poised right at the edge of the bed like I’d been and longing to really get comfortable, I settled in the sliver of space next to him. Trying not to think about the fact that the bed being as small as it was gave us literally no space and we were forced to touch.

Thirty minutes passed. Sweetpea sat up.

“ I think I get it now.” he muttered.

“Yeah?” I was getting lost in his eyes all over again.

“Mhm.” he affirmed.

I sat up and so did he. “It’s cheesy as hell, but… I get it. Kinda know how the guy feels.” Sweetpea’s gaze settled on his hands and he chuckled to himself, the sound almost bitter.

“I’m sorry. I heard about you and Josie breaking up.”

“We didn’t. You can’t break up with someone if they never wanted to be with you to begin with.” Sweetpea answered. He tensed up a little and I sighed. Wishing I hadn’t opened my mouth.

That tension between him and I doubled.

In an attempt to make things just a little lighter, I slipped off the bed. Held out my hand.

Sweetpea eyed it warily.

I insisted, “Oh come on, please? Just one dance. You did say we had to practice. And I dance, so I can definitely tell you that if we don’t at least somewhat connect, we’re going to be awkward and it’s going to look bad.”

Did I really just do that?

The scene where Baby goes to Johnny’s cabin and spends the night was just beginning and I swallowed hard as soon as I glanced back up at Sweetpea and realized that he was staring at the television in a daze. I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“You want me to dance with you.. Like that. Okay.” Sweetpea towered over me. Closing the space between our bodies before I had a chance to back out of what I asked of him. His hands went straight to my hips. Holding my body in place against his as he chuckled, looking down at me. “You’re the one who wanted to dance, princess.”

“Yeah.” I managed to stammer. Breathless. Helpless thanks to the way his fingers dug into my hips and held me against him. But when they started to move up and down my sides, oh… I felt myself shiver at the touch. Melting against him on my own. I’d been trying my best not to give in and do that.

I trained my eyes on the front of his plaid shirt because I didn’t dare look up at him.

His leg slipped between mine and I bit my lip. Breath catching in my throat all over again as I rubbed myself against his thigh. My usual careful,guarded filter was gone.

All I cared about was doing whatever I could to show Sweetpea that what he thought I felt towards him wasn’t true.

His hands settled across my ass. Fingers digging in as he gasped quietly. A groan slipping out as he muttered in a daze, “You really are a good dancer, huh?”

“I, uh… I compete. My parents are huge on pushing my sister and I into competitive activities, whether we want it or not.” I babbled.

It must have bothered him that I wasn’t looking at him because he gripped my jaw, guiding my gaze up. “But you like dancing. I can tell.”

,, maybe it’s just dancing like this with you.” the thought came. I stopped just shy of actually letting it slip out. I sighed and smiled, nodding in agreement. Because that was so much easier than everything else I wanted to do or say. ,, besides,” my brain continued to taunt, “why on Earth is he going to want you when he could have literally anyone else?” and the thought had me pouting a little.

I didn’t think he was aware of it.

“What?” he asked. Tensing a little. Loosening his grip on my body just a little bit. Seeming as if he wanted to step away from me. Before I had the chance to talk myself out of it, I melted against him all over again. Raising my arms to slip them around his neck.

“Nothing.” I answered after a few seconds.

“You were pouting again. That’s kind of a thing you do when you’re upset, you’re not getting your way or you’re annoyed.”

The fact that he picked up on that had me raising a brow. Scoffing. About to argue that I didn’t pout all the time, but keeping quiet because I knew he was right.

But how -and when, had he noticed?

“Dreading the fact that I’m going to get up there on stage and see everyone watching and I will panic.” I muttered quietly because a half truth was better than the whole truth or a complete lie.

If I told him the real reason I’d been pouting, well.. That would’ve opened up a can of worms that I’m not sure about opening. God I want to. But if I just lay it all on the line…

I can’t.

Sweetpea raised a brow. He started to say something but he went quiet on me. Thinking.

“But you’re so loud.” he finally spoke up.

I pouted up at him, giving his chest a light smack. “I ought to step on your foot, sir.”

“Won’t hurt. Boots are steel toe.” Sweetpea smirked as he said it. Sticking his tongue out at me.

He dipped me and I hadn’t been expecting it. I gasped and he chuckled. “Not so bad at this dancing shit, hmm?” he questioned as he pulled me back up. His hands moved up and down my back before settling on my ass again. Squeezing when I rocked myself over his thigh just a little before I could stop myself because what he was doing was getting me worked up.

I sighed a little. Melting all over at the way he touched me and held me. Admitting with a quiet laugh, “You’re actually not. And I can teach you more..” trailing off and going quiet.

“You can, huh?”

His voice was this perfect mix of gravel and silk and I had to clench my thighs just a little. Found myself praying to whatever God might exist that I didn’t get too excited and leave a wet spot behind on his jeans. Because that would definitely seal the embarrassment and awkwardness factor. And I didn’t want that.

I was staring intently at his chest again when he tucked his fingers beneath my chin and tilted my head. “Careful what you say, princess. I might actually take you seriously.”

“I’m being serious. I don’t mind at all.” I babbled and instantly, I wanted to punch myself in the throat for it. This awkward version of myself wasn’t me but for whatever reason, Sweetpea seemed to bring it out. All my insecurities seemed to come rushing to the surface. Taunting me with the knowledge that there was no way he’d ever be interested in me beyond the convenience of a good screw. Knowing that even if he were, something would go wrong somehow.

He dipped me again. This time when he pulled me back up, our faces bumped against each other and when my mouth brushed against his, I couldn’t stop the quiet gasp that came. His fingers dug into my body just a little more and we were staring at each other.

Dazed.

“Pea?”

“What’s up, princess?” he muttered after a second or two. Blinking as if he were trying to focus.

“Nothing.” I muttered. Losing my nerve and my train of thought. Pushing down everything I’d been about to say all over again.

“ Why do you do that? Just say whatever it is you want to say.”

“Oh, I don’t think you want me to do that.” I muttered, mostly to myself. My gaze trained on anything and everything but his. He guided my face up and licked his lips, his eyes darting down. Settling on my mouth. “What if I do?” he muttered in response after a few seconds.

“Okay, fine. I was wondering what..” I trailed off. Frustrated. Laughing at myself and shaking my head. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me, woman. Damn.” his tone was firm and I swallowed hard as I looked up at him.

He was going to keep at it until I said something and right now, I was drawing a blank on any other convenient things I could say that were less controversial than what I’d stopped myself from saying.

,, maybe if you say it, he’ll know that you don’t hate him.” the thought came.

I took a deep breath. Shaky.

“I was wondering what your kiss feels like.” I muttered, my voice dropping so low that for a second, I didn’t think he heard me.

His jaw dropped. One hand left my ass and raised. Dragging through thick dark hair as he tugged. His mouth opening and closing.

“What? You kept asking… I.. You don’t have to. I didn’t want to make it weird.” I babbled nervously. When he started to chuckle, I looked up at him with a brow raised. “Gee, thanks.” I pouted.

Stepping away. Because if I didn’t put some distance between us right then, I was going to keep digging the hole deeper.

He reached out and grabbed me by the hips, pulling me against him all over again. Rocking himself into me clumsily. His face inching closer and closer to my own. Our mouths were on a collision course and neither of us bothered to stop it from happening. His lips settled against the corner of my mouth clumsily. His tongue traced the outline of my lips and I shivered and melted against him like I’d been before. Clinging. My arms around his neck again. Fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck before settling my hand across to rest and pull his mouth back against mine.

My lips parted, granting him access. His tongue slipped past my lips and he melted into me this time. Deepening the kiss. Using his grip on my ass to pull me up his body slightly. I sighed as the kiss broke, my tongue rolling over kiss swollen lips. Staring at him as I tried to wrap my head around what just happened.

How badly I wanted it to happen again.

“Well?”

I bit my lip. Trying to formulate words. Anything. My brain must have short-circuited because I came up with nothing, despite all the opening and closing of my mouth as I attempted to answer.

I’m not sure what possessed me to do it or why I thought it was a good idea, but I was grabbing hold of the back of his neck. Pulling his mouth back against mine greedily. Taking total control of the kiss this time around. Making him chuckle into the kiss.

As we pulled apart to breathe, he repeated his question.

“Better than my wildest dreams.” I blurted out quietly.

“So you dream about kissing me?” he asked, tucking his fingers beneath my chin so that I couldn’t do what I tended to when a subject got to be too uncomfortable for me… I swallowed hard and admitted in a hushed tone, “Among other things.”

He growled out the word “Fuck.” and pulled me up his body completely. Deepening the kiss to a point where I almost forgot to breathe a time or two. I could feel myself getting light-headed. The kiss broke and we pulled apart, breathing heavily. I melted against him, dazed. Still trying to get my head around the turn the night had taken.

“It’s getting late, princess.”

“It is.”

“I should probably get you home.”

I pouted a little. Holding onto him just a little tighter. “Unfortunately.” I muttered.

He scooped me off the table and carried me out of the bunker. Sitting me on the back of his motorcycle. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned against his back, the Serpent patch scratching at my skin a little.

The drive back to the Pembrooke took almost no time and as soon as his motorcycle stopped at the curb, I pouted a little. Rolling my eyes at the literal ivory tower.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I asked as I slipped off the back of his motorcycle.

He grabbed hold of my hips, pulling me against him. Leaning down and stealing another deep kiss. “Mhm. Definitely, princess.”

I practically floated up the stairs leading into the lobby of the building. And I leaned against the wall, waiting on the elevator. Trying to pull myself together. Smiling like an idiot.

#sweetpea #sweetpea x oc imagine #sweetpea oneshot #sweetpea fanfiction #sweetpea fanfic #sweetpea x oc fanfiction #sweetpea x oc fic #sweetpea imagines #my writing ; sweetpea #my fanfiction ; sweetpea #my oneshots ; sweetpea #my imagines ; sweetpea #// okay not gonna lie this one got away from me but it's heckin cuuute af.#// if you wanna see these two more often pls lmk #// i beg #// this is about to flop so goddamn hard #// safe for kiddos eyes this time hehe

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sinner-as-saint · 5 years ago

Note

please plEASE PLEASE write a smut with Seb afer all the pics that came out from his shooting with Men’s Health 💦💦💦🔥🔥🔥🔥

GOOD FOOKING GOD

Could you imagine just how cocky and confident he would be now that he's much more comfortable in his own skin?

He'd would be parading around the house with nothing but his briefs on; knowing damn well what he does to you

You eyeing your boyfriend shamelessly like he's a piece of meat

Him teasing you all the time

You'd be on the bed, reading a book or scrolling through your socials and he'd walk out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel around his waist

That perfectly defined Adonis belt of his on full display

"What is it baby, am I turning you on?" he would ask, biting his lips and watching you squirm under his stare.

"Come here" he'd pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless.

You'd melt under his touch just like before.

You'd be at work, and throughout the day you'd get countless selfies from him; shirtless at the gym, shirtless in the kitchen, shirtless in your bed telling you how much he'd rather have you here under him.

He'd get very much confident and cheeky in bed

"Look at you baby, taking my cock like you were only made for it"

"Are you wet already? I haven't even touched you yet"

He used to be slightly insecure that he was older than you, but that disappeared soon.

He knew that no matter what, you'd always be his girl.

His.

Him being even more shameless than before with his totally jacked body

You'd be replying to emails or phone calls for work and he'd walk around semi-naked

"Seb, you mind covering up a bit?"

You being completely spell bound by him. One look from him and you'd turn into a puddle.

"Why baby? Am I distracting you?" he was so good at being clueless.

I assume he'd get more dominant and assertive in bed... Much more that before

"I own you, baby"

"You're mine, you get that?"

He'd remind you, always.

Whatever tension built up in his body after the gym, he'd fuck it out of his system with your help.

Always having sex when he gets back from the gym to help him wind down.

Hardcore sex, because he somehow ALWAYS had the stamina for it - be it early in the morning or at midnight.

He would sometimes wake you up at 4 am with his head in between your thighs and his tongue deep into your folds.

Round 1, and 2, and 3 until you'd beg him to give you a break, or let you sleep because you had work the next day.

Messing around with him and telling him he's 'old'

Him smirking and pinning you down on the bed.

Making you helpless

His grip tightening around your throat. Your naked body under his; his hard on pressing against your wet folds.

He would tighten his hands gently around your throat with each passing second

"You were saying, baby?" he'd whisper in his low, deep voice; hoarse from all your prior acts.

Him making you apologize nicely as he pushes himself into you and fucks you until your brain gets foggy

OH MY GOOD FUCK

Imagine getting into a heated argument with Seb... Because why not?

And him refusing to let you walk out on him even though you had already packed your bags.

"You're not fucking leaving me!"

It being one of the rare times he'd ever raise his voice at you.

"Don't you fucking talk to me in that tone, Sebastian! You need to get your jealousy under control!"

Him grabbing your hand; his possessive side taking over, and preventing you from walking out of the room.

"Or what, huh?"

Him pulling you into his strong body and daring you to leave him while staring deep into your eyes.

Angry sex... A lot of it.

Him spanking you because you dared to talk back to him

Soft sex in the kitchen the morning after the argument, and him making up to you and apologizing for being jealous and even daring to think that you would cheat on him with your guy best friend.

On the rare occasions when you two would have slow sex he'd make sure to tell you just how much you mean to him, and how much he loves you.

He'd be a jealous lover for sure. He would be very protective of you.

He'd be the kind of man who would text you to meet him in the bathroom for a quickie in the middle of a party - only because someone flirted with you when you two walked in.

Him reminding you constantly that you were his

Phone sex when he's away shooting for the FAWS series.

Him giving you instructions of what to do and how to touch yourself over the phone; and coming undone at the same time

You teasing him regarding the Men's Health shoot.

Telling him, as a joke, that he should stop boasting because he's not even that hot.

Him pushing you against the closest wall, pinning your wrists above your head and leaning into your ear to whisper dangerously, "You wanna say that again?"

Getting turned on embarrassingly fast whenever he gets dominant and him knowing all about it.

Him fucking you relentlessly against that same wall and making you change your mind immediately about him 'not being that hot'

A/N: Sorry i got carried away.

#sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan headcanons #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #sebastian stan drabble

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aestheticaxolotl · 4 years ago

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Lets Talk About Mimebomb

I used two images here because both are priceless and I didn’t know which I wanted to use more. Let me start with Mimebomb, using the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break them (mimebomb is non binary fight me) down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, please bear with me once more as I do this).

Mime Bomb is a thin, red-haired young man (*Cough*) who looks like a stereotypical mime. He (*They*) wears a grey and black striped shirt, black beret, white gloves, black spandex and black shoes. His (*Their*) makeup consists of white face paint, black face paint around the eyes and on the brows, and a light red shade of lipstick.

So I wanna talk about Mimebomb without their makeup first. We see that they are not meant to be an attractive character, and I appreciate that Carmen Sandiego created characters like that. But I digress, red headed males are stereotypically either super hot or super not. And they really tried to go with super not. But failed because I love them anyway and so does most of the fandom. Now, the mime get up is a very strange choice to me, seeing as people are more scared of clowns than global warming, and mimes are very similar to clown, but I don’t think it’s a fear tactic. But more of a ‘hey even Mimes can be cool yall’.

For personality we do not have a lot to go on as some of the other but we still have SOMETHING, I was forced to reference the books for this so please, if you have no read “Clue by Clue”, check it out.

Mime Bomb has been described as quiet by El Topo and weird by Tigress. Mime Bomb is seen as an opportunist, immediately tattling to V.I.L.E Faculty when witnessing Carmen stowing away on the graduate mission during her holdover year, and secretly hiding a rare stamp in Detective Chase Devineaux's coat when he was on to him. In the Clue by Clue novel, Mime Bomb is said to be skilled in symbiology and cryptanalysis according to Professor Maelstrom. He is also prone to avoiding fights or physical contact when possible. When fighting Sheena in the Who in the World is Carmen Sandiego novel, she easily beats him while he is distracted. When offered a helping hand to his feet by Black Sheep, he declines with a shrug and silent nod. In Clue by Clue, when Le Chèvre and Tigress are fighting Carmen, he stands off in the sidelines and shadowboxes rather than assisting.

Now, let us begin on what I have brought to the table.

Mime Bomb is seen as an opportunist

I have to begin by defining the term ‘Opportunistic’ using the Webster's Dictionary, Opportunistic meaning “exploiting chances offered by immediate circumstances without reference to a general plan or moral principle”. And dumbing it down for myself “They take what is best for theirself rather than the people around them.” Right, so. Mimebomb being opportunistic is CANON and shown MANY times. I will draw your attention to every time Mimebomb has turned Carmen or who ever into the Faculty for not following the rules. I would have loved to stated that this is a ‘teacher pet’ thing but I was surprised when I realized it wasn’t. The Faculty really doesn’t like Mimebomb and are very sarcastic towards them, constantly underestimating them and using them as the butt of the joke! And yet we see them completing missions successfully and with finesse, other messing up the mission they set up so carefully and thoughtfully.

Mime Bomb is said to be skilled in symbology and cryptanalysis

Cryptanalysis is the art or process of deciphering coded messages without being told the key. While Symbology is the study or use of symbols. This is very telling. Mimebomb studying codes and symbols can allude to selective mutism or even mutism. Personally, I prefer the former, Selective mutism is a childhood disorder in which a child does not speak in some social situations although he or she is able to talk normally at other times. And this can form in adults too. But the implications that they let if form how they preformed in school/college? Amazing, they made a choice and stuck to it for SUCH a LONG time. That commitment is amazing. This is also useful to more historical based mission or where it may lead into hieroglyph or other symbols. I’m willing to wager that these talents are why DOCTOR BELLUM brought Mimebomb on the hunt for an artifact. Because they would know some of the writing and symbols.

He is also prone to avoiding fights or physical contact when possible

Mimebomb being physically weak is not an accidental detail. Far from it! I think addressing that a male character who is more brains than brawn is a detail that needs to be pushed, and as off as Mimebomb is, they are the perfect example of this. They are not masculine and are easily taken down by Young Blacksheep, Chase, and other characters. Mind you it’s halariauous but PLEASE- You are KILLING their JOINTS. I have a feeling the avoiding physical contact is a very... Self protecting action that I feel would have to be more touched on in a headcanon post rather than an analysis post. The best I can come up with is the speculation that Mimebomb refuses to let people become close to them.

When offered a helping hand to his feet by Black Sheep, he declines with a shrug and silent nod

This, this the most telling thing EVER. Mimebomb refuses a helping hand. They do not work well with others and when they are offered help, the refuse it. They have a self serving bias. A self-serving bias is any cognitive or perceptual process that is distorted by the need to maintain and enhance self-esteem, or the tendency to perceive oneself in an overly favorable manner. It is the belief that individuals tend to ascribe success to their own abilities and efforts, but ascribe failure to external factors. When individuals reject the validity of negative feedback, focus on their strengths and achievements but overlook their faults and failures, or take more credit for their group's work than they give to other members, they are protecting their ego from threat and injury. Mimebomb protects themself at all cost, and that makes me wonder, why? Because they know that they can’t accept others help or their comforts. And they are fine with it. They are okay with being alone.

he stands off in the sidelines and shadowboxes rather than assisting.

I feel like this was originally supposed to be a one off joke rather than an actual trait or habit. But... If you know me by now, I can twist this on it’s head so fast, it’s not even funny. But I can’t here, I can’t except maybe they do this to encourage others? I think when they do work in a team, they do try their best to support who they are working with unless its an annoying slime ball like Neal the Eel (Not hating on Slimebomb, I just noticed they work better as comical enemies rather than a relationship, and i love that)

Now, there was no abilities category in the wiki, and I found this interesting, so i drew from the Trivia section of the page and found out... A lot really, that is interesting. But only one of them made and impression on me and it’s the one I want to focus on for a paragraph or two.

Mime Bomb is actually classified by A.C.M.E. as insane; given he is locked up with Maelstrom in a loony bin. considering he NEVER speaks (by choice), makes sense.

I’m going to take a second to define the term “Insane” using “Wikipedia” rather than a dictionary. “ Insanity, madness, and craziness are terms that describe a spectrum of individual and group behaviors that are characterized by certain abnormal mental or behavioral patterns.” Hmm....What abnormal pattern are we looking at here. Selective Mutism. The mime outfit doesn’t help. I’ll make note that the official wiki says it’s choice that Mimebomb doesn’t speak, but doesn’t give us a reason why, speculation and theories are in store here and I will reference my V.I.L.E Operative headcanons.

In the end, Mimebomb was and still is one of my favorite characters in the whole freaking show. I enjoyed ever second of them on screen, every caper and ever wacky highjinx. I’d watch the whole show again just to see them being the awesome character they are. As usual, requests are open and please! I love when requests come in! Stay tuned for the next one y’all!!

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kyber-kisses · 4 years ago

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Hymn (Part 2)

Winchester brothers x Sister!reader (Platonic)

wanna start from the beginning? Here is the Masterlist!

Warnings: cursing, its mostly fluff my dudes.

Summary: Y/N Winchester has wrestled with demons ever since her mother died, but when her younger brothers lives are in danger it’s their souls she fights to save, because isn’t that what a big sister should do?

A/n:OK so i may or may not be in love with writing this series, but whatever. This fic is based on the lyrics from joel porters Hymn. Hope you guys enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated!

Dean woke up in a cold sweat, his eyes straining in the utter darkness of his room while his breathing rate slowly began to steady from where it had been seconds ago. Shifting on the mattress he flicked on the bedside lamp and slowly sat up, his black sleep shirt clinging to his skin.

“Fuck.”

Dragging a shaky hand down his face, he took a deep breath. It had been a long time since he had that nightmare. He had hoped it had gone away completely but apparently his mind wouldn’t let it go. . . Then again it was a memory. Just a memory. A terrible, horrible memory. and some memories just don't go away.

Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand he found that he had slept in, which was unlike him. The neon red numbers telling him that it was a quarter past ten. Sliding on his robe, he made his way for the door, the only thing on his mind being a cup of coffee

. . . Until he halted in his tracks and looked back.

It was still there. Then again where else would it be? Even though the back wall of his room was covered in an arrange of weapons, your hunting rifle stood out among the rest like some sort of sad centerpiece. How he had kept hold of it all these years was beyond him.

He paused for another second before backtracking and slowly taking it off the wall. Your rifle had been your prized possession, and your aim unparalleled. His dad used to say he had never seen someone so young shoot so well. Shifting the gun in his hand, Dean let his thumb trace over your name. You had carved it into the stock when you first got it, using Deans favorite pocket knife for the job.

Miss you.

Almost two and a half decades. That how long you had been gone. He thought losing his mom had been hard, but then you thrust your rifle into his arms and disappeared out that damn motel room door and he never saw you again. That was when he really broke.

Quickly wiping the stray tears from his eyes, he put the rifle back in its place, turned off the lights and headed for the kitchen. Coffee. He needed coffee.

His body went into autopilot and before he knew it he was walking through the threshold of the bunkers kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee pot.

“Well look who finally decided to roll out of bed.”

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“You okay?”

Dean hummed a response as he poured himself a cup before sinking down into the seat across from his brother. “Yeah, yeah- I uh, just had some really weird dreams.”

“I don’t wanna know-“

“They were about Y/N.”

That was all it took to fully gain the youngest Winchesters attention, his eyes peering over the edge of his coffee cup mid sip. There was a pause as he swallowed. “Y/N?”

“Yeah- it uh-“ Dean pinched the bridge of his nose like it physically pained him to think about it. “It was the night she disappeared. Everything was the same, down to you doing your fucking homework to her teaching me how to shoot her damn rifle.”

“You remember all that?”

“You don’t?” Dean dropped his hand from his face to send his brother a bewildered look.

“I mean, I remember bits and pieces but not every little detail.” Sam shrugged, going back to his coffee.

“That was one of the worst nights of my life.”

Sliding his laptop away from him, Sam folded his arms across the top of the table. “What else do you remember?”

This time it was Deans turn to shrug, eyes fixating on the black liquid in his cup. “Her running out the door and leaving us in the motel room, Her screaming, Dad coming back and going into a full blown panic- I don’t think I had ever seen him so afraid.” Dean swallowed thickly, swirling the contents in his mug. “I remember him just leaving us there so he could look for her. And then he was gone for hours and when he came back all he had was her flannel. The thing was in tatters and covered in blood.”

“I kinda remember that.” Sam nodded, his eyes going to the matching bracelets on his and Deans wrists. Bracelets being a loose term. In reality they were just bits of fabric Dean had salvaged from your flannel later that night. It was one of the few things left of you that they had. “I just mostly remember dad crying after he thought we had gone to bed. It happened every night for weeks.”

“Yeah.” Dean could feel his emotions bubbling up inside him again. His dad had spent months tearing apart the state and the surrounding ones looking for you. But they always came up with nothing.

You were just gone. Like you had been snatched out of thin air.

Dean remembered the months and even years that followed after that so well. They were hard. His big sister was gone and everything felt so much scarier. . . And then dad came to the conclusion that you were dead and that was that. Except Dean refused to believe it. You were so tough and brave, there was no way you could be dead. You couldn’t be dead, he would say constantly. You just needed finding. He kept saying that because he had to believe it. Because being the boy who’d lost his mother was one thing, being the boy who’d lost his mother and sister something else entirely. But as the years went on, he slowly began to lose hope and then one day he just woke up and believed it.

You were dead. If you were alive you would have been home by now. You would have fought every monster in the country if you had to to get back home to them. And if you weren’t back by now, you weren’t coming back ever.

Dean sniffed, feeling the familiar burn in his nostrils telling him tears were coming. Trying to mask it he rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand again. “I miss her.”

“I know. I do to.” Sam sighed, watching his brother try not to break down in front of him. Sam had loved you as much as Dean had but to Dean you were his hero. You always had been. While Sam looked up to Dean, Dean had always looked up to you.

“I’m starting to forget her voice.” Dean suddenly admitted, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “I don’t mean to. . . But it’s fading away.” Slowly rising from his seat, Dean headed for the door. “I hope you can still hear her.”

As Sam watched his brother disappear back down the hallway, he let his mind wander before pushing out of his own seat to go in search of something long forgotten.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

A few hours later Sam found himself wandering towards his brothers room, laptop folded underneath his arm.

“Hey, Dean?” Rapping his knuckles on the door, he leaned against the wall waiting for a response.

“What?”

Taking it as a sign he twisted the handle and nudged open the door, peering into the brightness of Deans room. His brother was seated at his desk, cleaning one of the many guns that usually sat silently on his wall.

“Wait, is that Y/Ns-“

“Rifle. Yeah.” Dean sighed, leaning back in his seat to admire his work.

“I don’t know why you still clean that thing. Neither of us use it. The last person to shoot it was her.” Stepping through the doorway, he walked towards the desk, smiling faintly at the sight of your carved name in the stock.

“Gives me something to do. It’s kinda relaxing actually.” Wiping his hands on his jeans, Dena turned his gaze towards Sam. “What’s up?”

“Oh, uh I found something. C’mon I wanna show you.” Nodding towards the door Sam beckoned his brother to follow, which thankfully he did.

“This better be fuckin worth it.” Dean sighed, his footsteps echoing down the bunker hallway as he followed Sam towards the library.

“Oh trust me, I think it will be.” Adjusting his laptop underneath his arm, Sam stepped up into the well lit room. “Do you remember that old camcorder Y/N used to carry around? The one that we thought broke forever ago?”

“. . . Yeah, why?”

“Well, I dug it out of storage. Turns out, not broken at all.” Sam chuckled, opening up his laptop as he plugged the camcorder into the computer with a usb cable, the screen suddenly lighting up.

“You know, I don’t even remember what’s on here.” Sinking down in the seat besides his brother, Dean leaned forward to watch as Sam worked on pulling up the footage.

“If you break a limb doing this your gonna be the one to tell dad how it happened.” Your voice suddenly echoing through the speakers of the laptop, catching Dean off guard as he sat up straighter.

“I’m gonna be fine! Please Y/N!”

“This is a terrible idea.”

A small smile spread over Deans lips as you suddenly set down the camera walking into view. Dean couldn’t have been more than ten in the footage. An even younger Sam momentary running past as you helped Dean get situated in Bobby’s old hammock.

“Promise you won’t break any bones?”

“Yes.”

“Pinkie promise?” You held up your hand, pinkie extended so Dean could wrap his own around yours.

“Pinkie promise.”

Deans smile steadily grew as the memory came back. Dad has dropped the three of you off at Bobby’s for the weekend and when Dean found out he had a hammock his little boy brain went into overdrive.

“Can you spin it all the way around?”

“All the way around? Bub, your gonna fall out if I do that.” You shook your head before giving into defeat and pulling the hammock back to get it going.

“I won’t! I got this!”

It was proven the exact opposite a minute later when the hammock on the screen arched into a full circle swing, proceeding to send the middle Winchester child flying backwards into the bushes. A six year old Sam screeched with laughter somewhere off camera.

A full bellied laugh escaped Dean as he threw his head back, Sam chuckling besides him.

“I can’t believe I forgot about that! Y/N spent like ten minutes trying to clean all those cuts I got from the friggin bush.” Dean wheezed wiping at the tears still in his eyes. “Was I always that dumb?”

“Bold of you to assume you still aren’t.”

“Hey-“

As the footage quickly switched both brothers lit up again, this time watching as you balanced a seven year old Sam on your shoulders on the end of a weather worn dock.

“Wait- was this the summer we stayed in lake county?” Dean leaned forward on his elbows, eyes bright.

“I think so. Dad worked several cases in that area that year.”

“Y/N, please don’t jump-“ little Sam let out a whine, arms wrapping around your head in fear that he might fall.

“Don’t jump? Don’t jump?! Well now I feel like I should just for the heck of it!” You mused, dangling one foot over the water, hands still wrapped around Sam’s ankles.

“No!”

“Uh-oh, I’m loosing my balance-“ you laughed, feeling Sams grip tighten.

Your playful antics were quickly cut short as Dean blurred into view, his little feet thundering across the dock as he rocketed towards you, laughing. Your head quickly spun around in unison with Sams, both sets of eyes widening as he charged at you.

“Dean, No!”

But it was too late. The blonde rascal came barreling into you and the three of you went over the edge with a series of shrieks and laughs, a spray of water hitting the dock as you went down.

That was all it took to get both brothers laughing again, Dean leaning back in his seat as he gripped his side.

“God, I can’t remember the last time- the last time I laughed this much-“ he panted through chuckles.

“Well there’s several hours of footage on here, so don’t pass out from laughing too much.”

Deans eyes widened as the last of the laughter faded on his lips. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah. Guess Y/N wanted to make sure we had some sort of home videos to watch.”

Letting out a content sigh, the older Winchester nodded. He hadn’t realized until now how much of a childhood you had actually given him and Sam before running out the door. He was grateful.

“Well uh, what else is on here?” Turning back to the screen, Dean leaned foreword on his elbows watching as the footage continued to play.

It didn’t take long for them to realize how much of their childhood you had actually captured. From the time you took them skiing while dad had worked a case in Estes Park to when the three of you dressed up as the three musketeers for Halloween. It was all there. Almost every second of footage filled with full belly laughter and embarrassing moments. That’s how your old camcorder quickly became Deans favorite item in the world.It was a pocket of good memories. A pocket of childhood innocence.

They were closing in on hour two of of the footage while watching you and Dean completely wipe out while tubing that the jade eyed Winchester felt something suddenly shift in him. His laughter slowly petering out along with his smile. The sudden silence catching Sams attention as he looked way from the screen, his own chuckle slowly stopping.

“Dean? You okay?”

He drew in a breath before nodding slightly. “Sam, I think we should go back.”

There was a pause as the youngest of the Winchesters processed what his brother had said. “Seriously, are you sure? We haven’t-“

“Been back there in almost two decades? I know. I just— she deserved better.”

“She totally did.” Sam nodded in agreement. “ I can go pack a bag if you want and we can be out of here in thirty?”

Yeah, that sounds good.” Dean sighed, sucking in another breath. He shouldn’t have gotten all sad about the videos, but the sudden thought that you weren’t around to help make more new memories tore him up inside.

Before leaving, Sam paused in the doorway to turn around one last time. “You know, we should show those to mom at some point. I have a feeling she would really get a hoot out of them.”

“yeah, she totally would.”

SPN Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda @jordangdelacruz @orphiceseum @andthatsmyworld @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe

HYMN Taglist:

@biahblue @brebolin @noahandthegiraffe @psych0crybaby @beetears @supernaturalenchanted @skyelikestowrite @leej2468 @vicmc624

#dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #SPN #spn x reader #supernatural #bi-danvers writing

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love-fireflysong · 4 years ago

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You’re bored? How about you answer the rest of the questions for Climbing Crash? 😂😂 (pretty please 🥺)

Oh lordy, let’s do this I guess! Also this is posted like super late, sorry about that I didn’t see this until just before I left for work asdljasldj. Also, most of these will be answered in respect to my outlast au obvs, cause that’s the type of climbing chrash I’ve got on the brain!

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? Without spoiling too much, cause this is a scene I’m super looking forward to write someday, Josh finally brings it up after Chris and Ashley confront him about why he’s been so cagey and irritated lately. Once it’s out in the open though, the two of them just go ‘oh’ and its answers a lot of their questions on why they’d been feeling so awkward recently.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? Seeing as they’re trying to keep the fact that they’re dating a secret from literally everyone, their first ‘date’ was them watching a movie and crashing on the couch when they stayed up too late. They absolutely woke up stiff and sore and tangled, and they happiest they had been in a while.

What was their first kiss like? Hesitant, unsure, and awkward, (just like them <3) but it felt like a piece they had always been missing just slotted right into place. But oh man the ones following were anything but.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Look at these dorks. You expect me to believe that Chris and Ash, who were so hung up on each other, and Josh, who was so busy trying to get his best friends together that he ignored his own feelings, had interest in dating other people? I mean, even if Josh did date occasionally in high school, I can’t see it lasting long cause it just felt wrong to NOT have Chris and Ash there with him, so he either ends it pretty quickly or the other person realized that Josh really wasn’t into it a whole lot and shut it down themselves. They were absolutely 100% each other’s first everything.

What’s their height difference? Age difference? Do I even need to explain this one? I mean it’s right there in canon lol. Josh and Chris are the same height, with Ash going up to about their chin. That being said, age difference wise, I totally headcanon that Josh is not quite 2 years older then Ash, and Chris is about 1 1/2 years older then her.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Once upon a time, before the events that lead into my outlast au? Things were great, they were constantly at the others house to hang out and shit since they were kids so their parents tended to think of them like extra kids. Now? Oh the Washington’s hate Ashley.

Who takes the lead in social situations? Josh obviously. The dude is a rich, charismatic asshole who is used to shmoozing and rubbing elbows with other rich, charismatic assholes. Guy’s got a silver tongue what can I say 😏

Who gets jealous easier? Honestly? I think there was absolutely a period of time when they first started dating where they weren’t jealous of other people hanging out with them, but jealous of each other. Like there was some major insecurities that had to be worked out.

Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear? Oh Josh 100%. Def def def just pops behind one of the others to whisper the dirtiest shit into their ears just to watch them turn into a fucking tomato and squeak in embarrassment. The others hope he’ll get over it eventually, he never does.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first? Either Josh or Ashley I think. Kind of waffling back and forth on them, but I’m leaning more Ash right now. Don’t wanna go too much further into this cause I’m still sorting through how this scene is gonna happen myself. I’ve got ideas, but very very loose ones.

What are their primary love languages? Had to look up what these were lol. Ummmmm, physical touch and quality time definitely, but words of affirmation are a big one too, just less so.

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines? Chris. Just, just Chris. Nothing makes him happier then using the worst pick up line ever and watching Ash and Josh groan and/or laugh in response. Josh will use them too, his just tends to come hand in hand with the whole inappropriate whispering thing lol.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? PDA? They’re trying to keep everything on the down low, so very little. But once things are out in the open, they almost always squished together and hands stuck into another’s pockets. In private though? Oh boy, good luck separating these assholes. They were absolutely those friends that were just super relaxed and willing to hang off the others or sit on them at the drop of a hat. Now that they’re dating they are even worse.

Who initiates kisses? Oh man, so I’ve been thinking about this for like an entire day now, and I STILL DONT KNOW. I mean, Chris and Ashley seem to me the type of people who absolutely adore the more ‘innocent’ and ‘sweetly romantic’ kisses; like cheek, knuckles, forehead type jazz. Makes them feel all bubbly and giggly and warm. But Josh is the one who goes for the more sensual/sexual I think; base of the neck, corner of the mouth, nip of the ear. He takes a frankly scary amount of joy in watching the other two just get all flustered and turn into stammering messes. So Chris and Ash are more likely initiate the everyday and sweet ones, whereas Josh loves initiating the ones that lead into something more. Does that make sense?

Who’s the big and little spoon? I think that they’re less spoons and more sandwiches honestly lol. But when spooning does happen, Josh absolutely refuses to be the little spoon. Ever. Chris is more then happy to be either the holder or the hold-ee, he doesn’t care which as long as he’s there. Meaning that Ash tends to get regulated to little spoon, but she’ll glady hold on when the chance arises. When they’re feeling particularly clingy though? Well, that’s my little secret ;)

What are their favorite things to do together? Is everything an answer? Cause it’s everything.

Who’s better at comforting the other? Chris is definitely more skilled at the whole comforting thing no question. But the other two aren’t too bad at it themselves.

Who’s more protective? If you’re expecting me to say Chris, well then you’re wrong. It’s absolutely Josh and Ashley. They’ve been through some shit before and after they got together in this au. If you even think of hurting her boys, Ashley will not hesitate to rip your head off and tear you to shreds, physically or verbally. Josh is less obvious about his anger, and that almost makes him more dangerous.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Physical affection all the way. They’re just so used to being able to just touch each other whenever they wanted that the blow of having it taken away just about breaks them.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? Oh jesus. Okay, so I don’t know how many people have listened to my really messy outlast au playlist, but a decent chunk of it is just climbing chrash songs. So the few I’m about to share are ones that I think apply to them in general, but I have a veritable laundry list of songs that work specifically to this particular au. You’re Mine - Disturbed Wind Me Up - Strange Kids Cemetery Weather - Isles & Glaciers Blindfold - Sleeping Wolf (i can feel it in my bones that this is a climbing chrash song, i just can’t tell you why)

Whispers in the Dark - Skillet

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? They really don’t. I mean we got Cochise, but that’s about it. Other than that it’s just the shortened form of their names. (I had Josh call Ashley ‘Red’ in another fic, but that was before they even knew each others names, I don’t think he ever really uses it again. Maybe if he’s feeling a little competitive? Maybe?)

Who remembers the little things? Oh definitely Ashley, for good or for worse. She will remember the time you promised her half a chocolate bar and only gave her the last bite as easily as the time you picked up the book she had been looking at for ages on the way home one day and gave her a kiss on the head when she started to read it immediately after.

Ship questions over here!

#jesus-hotsauce-christmas-cake #asks #climbing chrash #seriously though im so sorry this took a while to get back to you #but i answered everything!#honestly dying at the fact that i got a ton of cimbing chrash questions though #and only one for chrashley alskdaslkhdals #let the climbing chrash revelution begin!

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empyreanwritings · 5 years ago

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Right in Front of You

Pairing: Detective!Bucky Barnes x Detective!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of mutilation, murder, canon gore, serial killer shenanigans

Summary: Sometimes the answers to your hardest cases are right in front of your face.

A/N: This is my submission for @barnesrogersvstheworld ‘s Halloween writing challenge! I meant to have this up earlier, but I’m constantly paranoid what I write sucks. My legend was The Man with a Hook for a Hand! I literally owe @if-n0t-l8ter-when my soul for beta reading this for me and reassuring that this isn’t hot garbage.

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated (:

The flash of evidence's camera blinded you, and you waited for the fuzzy bright spots to leave your vision before you addressed the victim. You couldn't exactly do your best work if you were still trying to get your wits about you.

John Doe looked to be about forty-five to fifty years old - he might have been younger, if he was a smoker. Two teenagers trying to tag the old post office found him by the dumpster. His body had seventeen stab wounds, all to the chest, which was similar to three other murders your department was investigating. But what differed John Doe from the rest was the fact his left hand had been cut off and replaced with a rusted hook.

The hand hadn't been recovered either. Whoever was behind the murders must have kept it as a souvenir.

Your medical examiner concluded the victim must have been killed some time around nine at night based on the amount of blood clotting on his back. She couldn't tell if the stab wounds were what killed him until she did an autopsy, but she had a feeling they were. Your serial killer was consistent with almost everything.

Seventeen stab wounds. Victims always killed at nine and dropped off one block away from where they were originally picked up. They were generally single people with no family in the city. All the small details were consistent.

But the first victim - Vicky Castro - was found in a perfectly clean white dress instead of her work clothes. The second victim - a homeless man who lived in Central Park - had his throat stuffed with unwrapped candy. And the third had a bunny mask nailed into his face.

Now this guy had a hook hand? How did that connect to the others?

You sighed. You had your work cut out for you.

"The man with a hook for a hand," James, your partner, said as he gestured to the rusty hook.

You gave a small laugh. "Talk about a creepy urban legend."

As the words left your mouth, you froze. Urban legends. You almost slapped yourself for not noticing the connection until this very moment.

"Oh my god, I could kiss you right now!" You grabbed the front of James's jacket, almost letting the temptation to plant one on him take over. He gave you a lazy smile in hopes that you would, but you turned his face back towards the victim instead, "The Hook Man."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"The Woman in White." He looked back at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. "The Candyman. The fuckin' Bunny Man! All of the victims are urban legends!"

James smiled, and he, too, felt the urge to kiss you in this moment. This had been the case that plagued your department for months. Every day that passed, and every new victim that popped up, the people of New York lost their faith in you. The media would have a field day knowing you finally found a connection between all the victims.

Even if it did not seem like a big deal, it was.

"We gotta take this back to the Captain," he said, pulling you right back out of your thoughts.

You nodded. It had already been a long night, and you'd be able to go home knowing there would be a lead waiting for you the next day.

---

Walking into work that morning felt different than usual. The detectives were buzzing with a newfound excitement; they were ready to find another lead and take down the bastard that was giving them so much grief.

You tried to be the rational one in situations like this; the one who refused to get excited until you had a concrete lead, but you couldn't help yourself this time around. You were buzzing just as much as everyone else, if not more. By the end of the day, you wanted the killer in custody with a full confession typed out on your desk. And you were going to make it happen.

James trailed in a few minutes after you, two coffees in his hands. You thanked him as he placed one of them on your desk. He must have known how hard you planned on working today because he didn't start his usual morning small talk. Nothing about his commute or what you had for breakfast - you both dove right into working.

Two other detectives, Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter, were sent out to interview the roommate of your John Doe from the previous night. The medical examiner had spent most of her night trying to get a name from his dental records and sent the results in before you got there. You were a little jealous, since you enjoyed the interview phase, but you tried to shake that feeling off. Captain Fury needed you here to start connecting all the dots.

You pinned the map of the city against one of the white boards and marked the locations where each victim was found. You thought it would help, but it only left you more confused. Nothing about where they were picked up or dropped off related to each other.

The Candy Man and the Woman in White were close to each other. They were found within ten miles of each other, but the other two were farther apart. Practically on opposite ends of the city.

You wanted to scream every time you glanced at the map. Every time you made progress, the bastard seemed to kick you back three spaces. You were almost positive he was somewhere nearby, watching you struggle to connect the dots and laughing at your frustration.

James stood next to you, his body language mimicking yours with his arms crossed over his chest and his brows pulled to the middle of his face. It was wrong of you to be happy that he was as stumped as you. It would have been quicker if one of you could piece together all the clues, but you so badly wanted it to be you. You, selfishly, wanted most of the glory after all the sleep you had lost because of this one person.

"I got nothing," he sighed in defeat. He glanced at the clock and saw it was already seven. "I think it's time to call it quits. Don't stay here too late, okay?"

He patted your shoulder, and you gave him a small smile. James was always a good partner. He spent a lot of his time trying to make sure you ate lunch or dinner and got enough sleep to survive the following day. And he saved your ass more than once because you lacked self-preservation skills. You weren't sure what you would do without him as your partner.

And sometimes you wondered what could spark between you if you didn't always put work first.

"Hey, James?" You called out just before he made it to the door.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna get breakfast before work tomorrow? It's on me."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "As if I'd let you pay, sweetheart, but yeah. Breakfast sounds great."

You nodded and waved him off, deciding to argue about who was going to pay tomorrow. It wasn't as if it was an official date, so why would he pay? You shook your head. You didn't need to be thinking about that right now.

You turned your attention back to the map. A frustrated breath left your lips and rubbed at your eyes, hoping it would somehow get you to look at it differently.

"Come on," you whined. "Talk to me! I know you want to!"

You leaned your hands back against James's desk, and you cringed when some of his paperwork fell over the edge with a thud!

Most of the papers were weighed down by a book, so it wasn't a lot to clean up, but as you placed everything back on his desk, you couldn't help but stare at the book. James was a reader, so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to have a book or two at his disposal. It was just the cover - a red book with a black star in the middle - that made you stop and stare.

Your eyes flickered from the star on the cover to the markings on the map, and it clicked in your brain why you couldn't make a connection to them - the map wasn't completed. The killer was trying to complete a five-point star, and he still needed to get the top one. And that was why it wasn't obvious to you right away.

James managed to save the day again without even realizing.

You ripped the map down and spread it across your desk. If you could measure all the points, you'd be able to get a general idea of where the killer was going to strike next. Even if he already picked up his last victim and killed them, at least you would know where to start looking for a body.

The idea of being too late didn't sit well with you, but it was a start.

---

James sent you a text the next morning with an address to a diner he wanted to meet you. It was a little out of your way, but you didn't protest. You were ready to share what you found and driving an extra twenty minutes to get breakfast wouldn't kill the excitement you felt. And he claimed it was one of his favorite spots.

The diner wasn't as busy as you expected for a Wednesday morning, and you smiled when you saw James already grabbed a table off to the side for you. He was always prepared in public; he liked being near the windows, facing the main entrance. Before you could even count how many people in an area, he already knew the possible exits and hiding spots for someone to strike. You assumed that sprang from his military background.

"Mornin'," he kissed your cheek and held out the chair for you, which you thanked him for. "I hope you didn't stay at the precinct all night."

"I didn't!" You laughed. "Okay, I almost did, but I got a full eight hours of sleep, so that counts, right?"

"What ever you say, sweetheart."

He slipped his coat off, and you couldn't help yourself form admiring the way his arms strained the white fabric of his button up. You were shameless with your ogling, letting your eyes trail up from his fit waist to his arms, but you fixated on a dark tattoo showing through his sleeve. You never knew he had a tattoo.

"You didn't tell me you were inked up," you pointed to his arm with a smile. "Were you holding out on me?"

He shrugged. "It's something I got while overseas. Just a stupid star."

You hummed and glanced down at the menu. The address of the diner was printed under the name, and you silently wondered why it seemed familiar. You rarely came to this side of the city, so it wasn't as if you had been here before. But, still, something tugged at the back of your mind - begged for you to remember whatever it was you were missing right in front of your face.

James noticed your shift in mood and asked if you were okay. You smiled over at him in reassurance. You made a joke about possibly being more tired than you thought, and he seemed to accept that without another question.

The name of the street was going to bug the hell out of you. You wanted to know why it was so familiar to -

Chills ran down your spine. The blood in veins froze, spreading from your fingertips to the back of your neck. You gripped the menu tightly between your fists as the realization washed over you; it seemed familiar because this street was one block over from where the next point of the star should be.

And this was a place James admitted he liked to visit often.

James. The one who always seemed to give the clues at the perfect time, especially with the Hook Man. James. The one who loved to read folklore and always kept a book in his desk. James. The one with the star tattoo and the star on his book, which you started to wonder if that was more than just a book. Maybe it was a journal. Maybe it held clues as to where that damned hand was.

You cursed yourself for not seeing what was inside, but you wouldn't have expected your partner to be behind it.

"You sure you're okay?" He questioned, his eyes analyzing every inch of your face. He seemed so concerned, and you were thankful you hadn't eaten yet. You probably would have lost it by now.

"Y-yeah, I'm good."

Your hand instinctively went the gun holstered on your hip, and the realization flashed across his face. Fuck. You shouldn't have been obvious with that.

"Bout time you figured it out, sweetheart," he teased. "I was beginning to wonder whether you were a detective or just an average patrol officer."

Your jaw clenched. "Am I supposed to be your fifth victim?"

"Well, you weren't supposed to be," he sighed dramatically and leaned back in his seat. The smile he gave you was so casual and calm, you wanted to wipe it right off his face. "But I'm starting to think you know too much."

#ayaotdchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot

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lilacsos · 4 years ago

Text

Denial LH Part One

A/N: Howdy! This is the first thing I’ve written in a hot minute and I actually really like it. Fun fact when I first thought of this I thought of Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds so yeah. All flashbacks are in italics :)

Words: 4330

Pairing: Luke x Gender Neutral Reader

*Warnings*: Mentions of cheating and throwing stuff, I think like one swear word, oh and I named someone Nicole because I needed a name so sorry if that’s your name

Summary: You and Luke are close childhood friends. Despite what Ashton says, you’re just friends, nothing more and nothing less. Right?

Masterlist Taglist (newest one) *if you were on any previous taglist please put your info on this one*

“Come on Luke! We can’t be late!” The squeaky voice of a small child shouted as they ran down the sidewalk, running as fast as their short legs could carry them.

Behind them, a young blonde boy rushed to try and keep up. “Don’t leave me behind! We have to stay together; my mom will be very upset if I tell her you left me!” The other person groaned and stopped moving while a triumphant smirk made its way onto Luke’s face. “Besides, it’s also your fault that we’re running late Y/N.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest and tapped your foot on the ground as you waited. “Luke we both stopped to pet the dog but you stopped first and like you said, your mom will be very upset if I left you.” You giggled, your own smirk forming. Once Luke finally caught up, you grabbed the young boy by the wrist and dragged him as you continued to run home. You and your family moved into the house next to Luke only three months ago but the two of you quickly became friends and now walked home from school together. You were only ever late once and the disappointed look from Mrs. Hemmings was enough to make sure you were never late again.

You both kept running and in the distance, you could see your houses. With a look at his watch, Luke slowed down to walk. “We have enough time to walk. Unless you enjoy running.” Luke smiled as you also slowed down, walking in step with him. “What do you think of Mr. Martin’s project?”

“I can’t believe he wants us to write a whole paragraph about what we want to be when we grow up! We’re seven!” You threw your hands up into the air with an exasperated whine. “I don’t know what I wanna be. Do you?”

“Yeah!” Luke’s eyes lit up in the afternoon sun and his lips curved into possibly the biggest smile to ever be seen. He bounced a little as he walked and his hands flew out in front of him as he said, “I’m gonna be a rockstar! I’ll sing and play a guitar and have a really cool band. I’ll be so rich and famous I could buy all of Australia!”

Despite Luke’s contagious excitement, you grew quiet, kicking away a pebble. Luke continued to share his dream as you walked the rest of the way home. As you approached the houses, you could each see Mrs. Hemmings through the kitchen window and the smell of dinner wafted out of the open front door. “Luke,” you began, stopping Luke from walking. “When you’re a famous rockstar, promise you won’t forget me.”

Luke cocked his head to the side but his smile never faded. “Of course I won’t forget you! You’re my best friend in the whole world. I could never forget you.” His arms wrapped around you, tugging you close as he tried to hug the worry out of you. “Hey, maybe you can be my maid.” Luke giggled as he was pushed away.

“Then I would have to clean up after you! I’ll never be your maid!” You squealed and ran to your front door and Luke ran to his.

“You’ll change your mind when you see the paycheck!”

“Hello? Earth to Y/N!” You shook your head as the memory faded and the current world took its place. Luke rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, gesturing to the man waiting to take your order.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You mumbled before giving him your order. The other people at the table laughed which only caused you to roll your eyes. “Will you four shut up?” You and Luke were no longer seven like you were in your memory but most things didn’t change. He still told you horrible jokes when you were upset, you still played rock-paper-scissors when you couldn’t decide who got shotgun, and you were still best friends. Just like Luke told you all those years ago, he became a rockstar. He got to sing and play guitar with a ‘really cool’ band. As Luke’s best friend, Michael, Calum, and Ashton easily became your other best friends and you continued to be the number one 5 Seconds of Summer fan. Out of all of them, excluding Luke, you were the closest to Ashton. He was very easy to get along with; his only flaw is that he had this outlandish idea that you were in love with Luke.

“What were you thinking about anyway?” Ashton asked, sipping his coffee. There was a glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was mischief or maybe the morning light was changing things.

“Just when Luke and I were kids and he told me he was going to be a rockstar.”

“And I offered to let you be my maid but you refused my offer.” Luke chuckled and bumped your shoulder again.

Michael snorted and rolled his eyes. “So even as a child Y/N didn’t want to put up with your bullshit.” The table erupted with laughs and Luke’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tugging you close to his chest as he smooshed your cheeks together between his fingers. You giggled and jabbed your fingers into his sides, causing him to squeal and let you go. Luke continued to giggle and the sound made your heart warm. His laugh was easily your favorite sound in the world. If you ever had a horrible day, all you needed was to hear Luke’s laugh to turn your day around. A smile easily appeared on your face as you looked to your left to see Luke smiling back at you. You stayed like that for a moment until the waiter came back and set your brunch in front of you.

Before you dug into your meal, you could have sworn you saw Ashton nudge Calum while smirking in your direction.

...

“I feel like I just ate my body weight in pancakes.” Calum groaned and slouched down in his chair. A murmur of agreement came from the others around the table before Ashton cleared his throat.

“We can always work off brunch by going on a walk.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes; of course Ashton would be the one to suggest a walk. With their own sounds of disapproval, the boys shook their heads. “Oh come on. There’s a nice park close by.”

Luke sighed and shrugged. “I’m sure it’s nice Ash but taking a walk in the park isn’t going to be easy for us.” He had a point. It was hard for any of the boys to go places without their pictures being taken or getting stopped. Of course they loved getting to talk to fans but sometimes they just wanted to have a normal day.

“Fine if you three won’t come with, will you Y/N?” Ashton asked, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout as he leaned across the table, taking your hands into his. You were going to agree with him that a walk sounded wonderful but you didn’t even have the chance to answer him. “Great!” He tugged you away from the table, gathering your things for you before he rushed off towards the park.

“Well,” you began with a sigh, glancing back at Luke. “Guess I’ll see you guys after my walk. See you later Mike, Cal, Bubs.” With that, you ran after Ashton, punching his shoulder when you caught up to him. “What was that for? I was going to go with you so you didn’t need to force me.”

Ashton shrugged and threw his arm around your shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you without anyone snooping and since the other three didn’t want to come, it seemed like a good chance to talk.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and your hands grew clammy. You had nothing to be scared of but you couldn’t help how your fight or flight instinct kicked in and right about now, you were ready to run away as fast as you could. “About what?”

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest at your question. “I just wanted to ask if you thought you were being slick.” What? You stopped walking and looked over at him. What on earth was he talking about? You must have looked as confused as you felt because he continued. “I mean you really don’t think we can’t tell about your little crush right? Luke might be dense but not everyone else is.”

A groan escaped your lips and you rolled your eyes, continuing your walk as your heart rate returned to normal. “How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have a crush on Luke.”

“Of course you do Y/N. You always sit next to him, you’re constantly touching him, and god the dopey look you get when you look at him. You can’t tell me you never felt anything more than friendship.”

Ashton looked ready to continue but a group of young girls walked over and asked for photos. You’ve never been more thankful for fans than you were in that moment. Luke was just your friend and that was it. There was no other emotion and Ashton needed to let it go. Of course there was that time he was dared to kiss you.

You were both 16 and hormones mostly controlled your brain. In only a few short weeks, your boys would be going off to tour with One Direction. You were flooded with pride when Luke told you about the tour and you both promised to spend as much time together as you could before he left. You and the four boys crammed yourselves into Luke’s bedroom, stuffing your faces with snacks and giggling at the horrible dares you all came up with. At some point, Michael dared Calum to slow dance with Luke’s brother Jack and while he did it, the dare was lame.

“Luke, your turn. Truth or dare.” Calum asked, leaning against the bed as he tried to throw some popcorn into his mouth.

“I’ll go with dare.” Luke chuckled and leaned over, elbowing you in the side. “Cal has the worst dares so it can’t be that bad.”

Calum smirked and took a quick glance at Ashton before speaking. “Well then, I dare you to kiss Y/N.” Silence filled the room as you and Luke looked at each other. You could feel your body start to heat up and you told yourself it was just because you were embarrassed, not because you liked Luke. Luke looked as red as you felt and you wondered if he was just scared or if there was something else. But you quickly shot that thought down; Luke was your best friend so certainly he didn’t have any feelings for you. Which was great because you didn’t have any towards him.

“Pick a different dare Calum. I can’t kiss Y/N, they haven’t kissed anyone before.” It was true. You had never kissed anyone before and it didn’t bother you since it doesn’t matter when you kiss someone. But was that really the only reason Luke didn’t want to kiss you? Calum did just say that he had to kiss you, not shove his tongue down your throat. Luke looked between you and Calum, trying to figure out just what to do. Calum shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Luke begin to lose his mind. “Is this alright with you? If you don’t want this then we don’t have to.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands on the carpet. “It’s fine Bubs. At least my first kiss will be with someone that actually cares about me and not some jerk.” You said with a nervous laugh, hoping that Luke wouldn’t be upset that you were fine with it.

“Right, ok then.” Luke mumbled and scooted over to you, his shaky hands coming to rest on your cheeks. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” You nodded and Luke took one last look at Calum over his shoulder before he leaned in. His lips quickly pressed against yours and you were surprised at how soft they were. You were also surprised at how nice and natural it felt to have his mouth moving against yours; you didn’t want it to end. He was warm and the way his lips fit yours almost perfectly was new and wonderful. You weren’t exactly sure what a kiss was supposed to feel like but you felt light and like you were floating on a cloud. Everything around you faded away and in that moment, it was just you and Luke, lip locked. Quickly and suddenly, Luke pulled away and sat back in his spot, rubbing his lips with his fingers. His face was flushed an even darker shade of red and the room suddenly felt like it was 50 degrees hotter. The other three boys giggled and Ashton winked at you.

“So how was your first kiss?” Michael snorted and looked at Luke who was looking at anything but you. How were you supposed to answer that? You certainly weren’t going to tell anyone how nice it felt but you couldn't say it was bad and hurt Luke.

“It was a kiss? How was it supposed to feel?” You decided it was a good enough answer.

“No fireworks? No butterflies or tingling sensations?” Ashton asked, leaning forward. Maybe that was a good way to describe your feelings but before you could come up with a lie, Luke jumped to his feet and ran out the door, mumbling about getting water. You glared and shoved Ashton as you ran after Luke, catching up to him in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” You whispered, feeling like anything louder would break open a dam of emotions you weren’t ready to tackle. Luke sighed and leaned against the counter, gesturing for you to do the same.

“I should be asking you that. I just took your first kiss because of a dumb game.” He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Are you ok?”

“Of course.” It was a lie. You didn’t feel fine at all. You were confused and worried about just how nice that kiss was. “Luke if I wasn’t alright with it then I would have said something.” He nodded but remained quiet. For a few moments, neither of you talked or moved; you just watched the cars out the window as they drove by. “So, are you alright?”

Luke nodded and turned, looking at you for the first time in ten minutes. “I am, I just don’t want this to mess anything up or ruin our friendship. I mean I just kissed you, it was a little weird.” He laughed.

Right. He didn’t feel anything for you and so of course this was weird for him. Not that it wasn’t weird for you too because you didn’t like him. You rolled your eyes, shoving your confusion down for the time being and elbowed Luke. “Nothing is going to change our friendship, not even a weird kiss.”

Luke smiled and bumped his shoulder against yours. Despite telling yourself that you felt nothing towards your best friend, you couldn’t stop the queasy feeling in your stomach as Luke looked at you. You must have eaten something weird because there was no way you were feeling butterflies. “Let’s get back to the guys. Maybe we can make Calum kiss Michael as payback.”

You blinked away the memory, feeling Ashton’s eyes on you. The fans must have left when you were zoned out since you didn’t see anyone around. “So, you’re sure you don’t like Luke?”

“Yes Ashton. I’m sure so can you drop it?”

“I’ll drop it when you realize you’re in denial.” He said with a shrug while you both continued on your walk.

“It isn’t denial. You’re just imagining things.”

...

A week later, Luke texted you and the other boys about a party he was going to throw at his house. He didn’t tell you exactly why he wanted to throw a party but he did mention he had an announcement and an important question for you. Your first thought was that he was going to ask you out but you convinced yourself that you were just confused. Ashton refused to back off and he constantly told you that you were in denial. At this point, you almost believed him.

The night of the party, you got dressed and waited for Ashton to pick you up. He was out picking up some drinks so he told you he would pick you up and drive you home. Well, he didn’t exactly say he would drive you home. He was positive that a certain blonde boy would be inviting you to stay the night with him tonight. Ashton must be confused because Luke wasn’t going to ask you out. He’s still so hurt from his last relationship that ended only a few months ago.

The sound of your phone ringing had woken you up late one night. Normally you would have ignored the call but when you saw Luke’s name light up on the screen, you answered. “Luke? What is it? It’s three in the morning.” He didn’t answer but on the other end, you could hear his sniffles and what sounded like a choked sob. “Luke? Bubs what is it? Talk to me.”

“She cheated on me.” He sounded so small and broken; fury rushed through your veins. You never liked his girlfriend but he was happy with her. Now that all has changed. You threw your blankets off your bed and tugged on a jacket and some slippers.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.” His soft reply was almost too hard to hear before he hung up the phone. All you wanted to do was find this girl and beat her into the ground but Luke needed you. He was always a sensitive boy and this was going to crush him. He cried watching Finding Nemo as a 23 year old for god’s sake; how was he going to survive this? You quickly ran out the door and made your way to Luke’s house as quickly as you could. When you pulled up, you fumbled with your keys, searching for the one he had given you. Finally you found it and unlocked the door, coming in to see Luke on the couch, surrounded by broken furniture and staring blankly at the wall. Wordlessly, you stepped over the mess and sat next to him, pulling his head to rest on your chest. As soon as he made contact, the tears poured out and his body quaked as the sobs tore out of his throat. Your hands found his hair, combing through the curls in a hope to comfort him. There was nothing you could say to make this better, you both knew that. All you could do was hold him until he was ready to talk.

Almost an hour later, the tears stopped flowing and Luke grew quiet once more. “Want some water?” You asked, drying his face with the sleeves of your jacket. He nodded but when you went to stand, he clung onto you, making you stumble and fall back onto the couch. “I have to stand to get you water Bubs. You can come with.” Luke nodded once more and let you go just long enough for you both to stand before his hand gripped yours, keeping you close. It was hard to avoid stepping on broken glass with the giant man holding onto you but you both managed to get into the kitchen. Once you filled a cup with water, he took it from your grasp, sipping at it as he looked at the mess around you both. The kitchen wasn’t much better as you could see crushed mugs and even a blender on the floor. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to.” Your free hand came back to his hair, brushing it out of his face. You almost expected him to refuse but slowly, he started talking.

“I came home from a party, she didn’t want to go, said she felt sick.” He swallowed thickly and you began to rub his back, encouraging him to continue but not pushing him. “Some asshole was all over her on the couch. Half naked. His hands were,” he took a shaky breath before continuing on a new topic. “She told me it was an accident but how could it have been? He was in my house.” At this, tears fell once more but he continued to talk. “I threw a vase at them. He left and she started yelling and throwing things at me. Said it was my fault she cheated. That she wouldn’t have to if I was around more. We threw more things and then she packed up her shit and she’s gone.”

“Oh god Luke. I’m so sorry.” You took your hand out of his grasp and rested your hands on his cheeks. “What can I do?” He was going to be hurt for a while and nothing could change that. But if there was something, anything, that would make him hurt just a little less, you would do it.

“Can you stay the night? I don’t want to be alone.” He sounded like a child, coming to his parent’s room, asking to sleep with them. You leaned in and kissed his forehead before nodding.

“Of course Bubs. Anything you need, I’ll do it.”

Three sharp knocks on your door broke you out of your trance and you scrambled over to the door, unsure of how long the person had been there. When the door opened, you smiled at Ashton. “Ready to be fashionably late to the party?” He chuckled as he took you to his car. The first half of the drive was pretty quiet, filled with the sounds of the radio. “So,” Ashton began, smiling widely, “how’s the water in denial?”

“What?” You could only assume he was still on his bullshit about you liking Luke but you could never tell with Ashton.

“Denial. You know since you still refuse to believe Luke likes you. He told me he had an important question to ask you tonight so you’d better admit your feelings to yourself fast before he asks you out. He’s in love with you Y/N.”

“You don’t even know if that’s the question Ash.”

“No, I suppose not.” Despite his words, the smile never left his face. Maybe he knew something you didn’t. Was it possible that Luke wanted to ask you out tonight? Maybe Luke had some secret romantic feelings for you that Ashton knew about. Maybe you had some romantic feelings for him. Ashton stopped the car outside of Luke’s house and smirked at you. “Just be ready for anything tonight.”

It was actually a pretty small party which surprised you. It looked like Luke had only invited friends and a few other people in the music industry, which was fine. You actually liked the smaller parties since it felt more normal and not like a rager thrown by a rockstar. Ashton grabbed your arm and dragged you into the house, looking for Luke. He wasn’t too hard to find since he was taller than at least 90% of the people here. He was standing in the living room with Michael and Calum by his side. “You’re here!” Luke cheered, and pulled you in for a hug. “I’m so excited for tonight. I can’t wait to talk to you.”

Butterflies, yes butterflies, jumped around your stomach as you listened to him talk. Shit. Maybe you really did like him. Was it possible that all this time you had just been in denial like Ashton thought? You always found Luke attractive but you never dared to think of him in a more than friendly way. His white shirt only brought out the blue of his eyes that much more and dear lord did his hair look perfect. “Lukey!” A squeal broke you out of your thoughts and from the other side of the room, a girl ran over. You had never seen her before and while you didn’t know all of Luke's friends, you thought you knew most of them. The girl jumped and Luke caught her in his arms before he leaned in and kissed her. Yeah, he was definitely kissing her. Your heart completely shut down as you watched his lips move against hers. He slowly set her back on her feet and with a sheepish smile, he looked back at you and the boys.

“This is what I wanted to tell you guys. This is my girlfriend, Nicole.” All at once, you could feel your heart shatter into a million pieces and your gut dropped down to your feet. That’s not possible. How does Luke have a girlfriend? You watched as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side as she kissed his cheek. That should be you. You should be the one jumping into his arms and kissing him. He should be holding you like that, not her. Who did she think she was? Was she just dating Luke for the fame and money? Was she using him? You felt a hand on your arm and looked over to see Ashton, who looked like he had seen a ghost. He was wrong. Luke didn’t love you at all. He loved Nicole.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” Ashton whispered, trying to get you to look away from the couple.

“Denial.” You whispered, unsure if the words actually even left your mouth.

“What?”

“Denial Ash. It was denial.” Without another word, you turned and ran out of the house. What the fuck?

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be removed)

@lustingfor5sos @mycollectionofnuts @ohhmuke @softboycal @norawashere @who-do-you-love-5sos @aftermidnightclifford @katiaw2 @littlesinnersins @bbyboyycal @rosecoloredash

#luke hemmings #luke 5sos #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings x reader #5sos #5 seconds of summer

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crimeronan · 5 years ago

Note

i wanna hear more about your headcanon of declan as autistic (no pressure! only if u want to)

oh ariana we’re really in it now

not all of these bullet points are specifically related to autism bc this just turned into a post about how fond i am of declan. however. autistic declan lynch rights here we go

speech

declanisms

really, keeping a list of action-based conversation starters to meet your goals that all sound like something a caricature of a high-level business executive would say... honey

memorizing clever turns of phrase and the cadence of storytelling

and refusing to ever use this love of language in public lest it make him vulnerable or ruin anything he’s built

having practiced regulating his vocal tone and inflection to make them both as normal and as free of personality as possible

being unable to modulate his vocal tone and inflection when he’s Not actively concentrating on regulating them - speaking impulsively from a place of upset, getting excited about things, etc

physicality

having also practiced his physicality to appear as unthreatening and unobtrusive as possible

mirroring strangers, casual acquaintances, criminal associates

actively schooling himself not to talk with his hands; natural storytelling comes with gesturing and physical involvement

having pleasant conversations and being pleasant to exist around while managing to have absolutely no friends

anxious stomachaches

nervous tics

refusing to allow himself comfortable clothing or a comfortable living space despite seeming to want these things

deciding he can have nice shoes, as a treat (doesn’t have anything to do with neurodivergence i just think it’s cute)

internal emotions

Everything Is Horrible, All The Time, But That’s Fine Because That’s Just How Life Is For Me And I’ve Accepted It

deeply unhappy, deeply bored, deeply exhausted, deeply terrified

given up on dreams and ambitions because they will never be accessible to someone like him (one of those things that in-narrative isn’t autism-related, but sure can be a hashtag relatable feel)

happiness, excitement, joy, any positive emotions are all “dangerous” because they represent a loss of control

zero to one hundred IMMEDIATELY in terms of anger, manic excitement, terror, misery, self-flagellation

constantly self-regulating, compartmentalizing, putting aside, and refusing to act on emotions despite feeling Incredibly Deeply

anxiety

obsessing, catastrophizing, making contingency plans, exploring bad outcomes, regretting past actions literally every single second of every day

aforementioned physical anxiety manifestations

resigned to ronan and matthew’s eventual deaths even when things are Mostly Okay

convinced that if and when something happens to ronan or matthew, it will be his fault

none of these things are autism-related specifically, there’s just something in his repetitive thoughts / methods of self-soothing / ways of internalizing trauma that's..... a feeling

child development

one of those kids who would have been called “precocious”

had developed a system for watching/protecting ronan and trying to convince ronan not to dream things by age five

specific interests in things deemed uninteresting or unimportant

didn’t engage in the same play behavior most kids his age would

got overwhelmed and cried over liking a gift too much

consciously aware of niall’s disdain for him, aurora’s ephemeral nature, and ronan’s dangerousness to himself at age five

some of these things are definitely exacerbated or fully caused by a childhood of emotional neglect and endangerment; autism reading integrates with this rather than replacing it. i strongly feel declan would still have been a “precocious” child with a healthy happy parental upbringing as well

sense of responsibility

extremely stressed by any situation he can’t control

will attempt to control situations beyond his jurisdiction to minimize this

studies so many parenting books after technically becoming ronan and matthew’s caretaker because he has no frame of reference for parenting and does not trust his instincts

“if you want something done right, do it yourself” a life motto by declan lynch

“everything is my fault, all the time” a life motto by declan lynch

“except when it’s dad’s or ronan’s fault” a pretty fair addendum by declan lynch

mental stimulation

so unbelievably bored with his life situation

THRILLED any time he gets to play games or engage in clever conversation - seen a little in his “crime makes me feel alive” vibes, his back-and-forth banter with jordan

won’t let himself get engaged in things because passion feels unsafe

enjoys himself for about one hour of one single night and then immediately starts cracking to pieces about how living in a constant state of mental dissatisfaction is killing him slowly

somehow manages to be surprised by this turn of events

interests

he hides art he loves in a murder attic like a feral cat who refuses to eat in front of people. i don’t even need to get into this

absolutely immediately enchanted to the point of self-labeled stupidity by watching jordan paint

infodumping about art history

trading art interests with jordan bc he’s legitimately interested and excited by what she knows and feels passionate about

this entire post should just be the murder attic. declan oh my fucking god

aforementioned collecting of language he likes

the whole tyrian purple thing. again. declan oh my fucking god

emotional intimacy

craves emotional intimacy but is TERRIFIED of being known and/or being rejected

is convinced he can never and will never have emotional intimacy in his life

has all the stamina of a wet tissue in terms of keeping his emotional secrets when jordan cottons onto them

gets annoyed by relationships with people who want emotional connection but continues playacting through the motions of said relationships in the hopes of being less lonely

comforting people / expressing genuine care

declan attempted to dispense comfort. “everybody dies, matthew”

i have to put attempted to dispense comfort on the list again. oh my god. to declan’s brain, emotional comfort is a vending machine that’s eaten ten dollars in a row and is now falling on him after he made the mistake of shaking it

declan regretted saying anything. [immediately says the worst thing possible]

write your routine, ronan. now. now. write it. write it down. (because i’m worried you’re going to kill yourself but have no idea how to say that so i have to focus on concrete action.)

every time he’s tried to say “i’m worried about you” and instead gone “why are you inconveniencing me this way.” king

having no sense of how to communicate feelings or solve emotional conflicts through talking despite attempting to do these things frequently, AFTER STUDYING OUT OF BOOKS, to his detriment

preferring to take care of people silently and subtly through protecting them and making things easier for them, extremely similarly to how ronan does

irritability

constantly in a low level fugue state of annoyance

runs on caffeine and fumes

very thin patience for anyone else’s inability to stick to plans, manage time, regulate emotion, do their jobs, follow through on commitments, etc

the unceasing “i’m not unhappy. i’m not unhappy. i’m not unhappy” while at work screams of “i am in sensory/emotional hell all the time and checking slightly out of this plane to deal”

loses control all at once, when he does lose control

drains energy like a broken cellphone battery from the effort of combating misery, anxiety, mental overload, boredom, masking all thoughts and feelings

bonus content: parents

the actual in-universe reasons for these things aren’t related to neurodivergence as far as we know, but

growing up as the unfavored child whose interests are constantly ignored or shut down

seeing your siblings get preferential treatment for no reason

being silenced or punished every time you express dissatisfaction or unhappiness or anger

being considered disposable

internalizing the idea that you’re a burden unless you’re worth something to others

that’s a real common lived realty for autistic ppl

bonus content: brothers

i read all three lynch brothers as being on the spectrum and all having different experiences with it

i read matthew as having had the inverse experience of declan, in which he flaps and stims and chews loudly and talks a mile a minute and expresses himself with excitement and passion and bouncing

& he has Not been punished for it or made to feel like it should be hidden

declan’s ferocious protectiveness of matthew is in many ways bc he wants to keep matthew from suffering the same way he has

differing autism spectrum experiences fit neatly into that

ronan and declan’s experiences are in some ways wildly different

in other ways, though

going zero to one hundred on the emotional spectrum, defaulting to anger to avoid fully feeling internal chaos, being unable to understand the other’s feelings or thought processes / making wildly incorrect conclusions about them, preferring to show feelings through action rather than words, struggling to translate genuine emotion into expression without coming across as a dick

they are Very Similar

declan and ronan do a lot of “dog growls at its own reflection” about this because neither of them is more furious than when they see their own perceived shortcomings in the other

i’m positive i’ve forgotten some things and also positive i have not communicated all of these thoughts as effectively as i would like but i have been typing this post for a thousand years. here you go

#trc #cdth #declan lynch #i love my idiot son #suicide m #ableism -#Anonymous

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bumblybeebounce · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet Music

So I was the guitar anon in @rzrcrst 's asks a while ago, and thought hey, why don't I try to practice a bit more on writing Ezra? Ssso I made this. Hopefully it's at least tolerable? :'D I just wanted to write something sweet, maybe it will cheer someone up a bit! I am actually trying to learn how to play guitar, but please consider: I am a dumbass. It's a slow going thing. VERY SLOW. So apologies if I got something wrong! Anywho, the song in this one is "I Belong To You" by Brandi Carlile.

Rating: E Pairing: Ezra x Reader Warnings: None

Taglist: @rzrcrst @tarrevizslas @equalstrashflavoredtrash

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

Sometimes, for all the advancement made in space travel, the waiting was a purgatory of boredom you just HAD to get through one way or another. Like right now. With you and Ezra in your ship, docked to another carrier on the course for another possible payday. And as much as you could appreciate it when your companion decided to leave you alone for a bit and have some quiet time with a book, this was one of the times where you actually kind of wanted him to talk. Of course if he did he wouldn't shut up for a few hours but listening to him would've been vastly preferable to the sheer amount of mind-numbing boredom you were going through right now.

"If you don't mind me saying so, birdie, going by the frequency and continuous nature of your fidgeting, it truly sounds as though you're preparing to climb the walls." And then he simply turns the page. Like he's not even bothered by the fact that all the daily tasks are finished and there's no reason to go out anywhere because the carrier has sweet fuck all in it and gah!

"Astute of you." It comes out grumpier than you really intended, but going by the lopsided smirk Ezra flashes at you while looking at you knowingly from behind the book is kinda worth it. He seemed to take a lot of pleasure when at any time you either used a fancy word, or spoke in a similar long-winded way he did. Which, let's be fair, was kind of growing on you after spending enough time in his presence. Stupidly charming... Smart-ass. With a nice ass.

"Well. If you are feeling amenable today-" He started after a while and laid his book against his knee, finger between the pages. "I can't help but recall you to be musically inclined, and that you have an instrument hidden in that there locker." Ezra nodded at the locker underneath the bench you were on, causing you to automatically look down at it too.

"Ah. So you noticed." "With this little space to work with, birdie, it's very difficult not to notice such things. Now, that is not a reproach in any way, shape or form, calm yourself-" He leaned forward a little and straightened his leg as you opened and closed your mouth, swallowing the apology you were about to give. "I merely mention it because I do believe you haven't played your guitar in my presence before and I am nothing if not a man who appreciates the arts, as difficult as those may be to find here among the constantly moving stars. So if you would indulge me this once, I believe I would appreciate immensely to hear whatever you deem fit to share with me."

Ezra did have a point, you had been making sure to practice mostly when he was out of earshot for one reason or another, a little convinced that he didn't much care to hear the music. Granted, that could've just been a mix of modesty and self-consciousness, but it honestly hadn't come up before now. You scratched your head a bit and shrugged.

"I mean. If... If you don't mind..." Actually, playing the guitar sounded kind of nice right now. "Oh, I insist."

And with that, you got the bag out and pulled out the acoustic guitar. It had been a bit since you last did so a while went by with just checking that it was still in tune and and just testing that everything sounded right. Your partner kept looking at you with a small smile from his side of the ship as you did, and begun strumming the chords in no particular tune, just to feel it out.

"I must confess, I am mildly disappointed I haven't suggested this earlier. It is a privilege to witness living art produced by a living work of art." Ah, and there was the blush back on your cheeks. You gave a nervous titter and raised a brow at Ezra. "Really, Ez? You're going with that?" He inclined his head in good humour, while keeping his voice serious. "Birdie, have you ever known me to be untruthful about your considerable skills or your considerable charms?" For once, he was very bad at keeping that smirk off his face and you shook your head, telling him to enjoy and keep reading his book.

And so the time passed, with Ezra reading his book and occasionally glancing your way warmly, and you strumming the instrument, playing old songs you half remembered or just nothing in particular. It was surprisingly easy to just get lost in the act of playing, the notes in the air, filling the little pod with something other than mechanic beeping.

Still, now that you had the approval of your partner to practice more freely, it didn't feel like that big of a step when you decided you wanted to sing a bit. Reaching into one of the pockets of the bag, you pulled out a capo and clipped it to the fretboard, tested out the strings, and began. The notes flowed wonderfully and familiarly, like an old friend returning as you took a breath and sang.

“Last night I had the exact same dream as you I killed a bird to save your life and you gave me your shoes You said clip my wings and walk my miles And I said I would too Then I woke up But I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“Today I sang the same damn tune as you It was ‘Lady in Red’, I hate that song and I know you do too You didn’t catch me singing along But I always sing with you Nice and quietly 'Cuz I don’t wanna stop you”

Alright, so your voice wasn't at it's best but it was fine. It felt nice to be singing again, you thought, even if it was a bit shaky.

“I know I could be spending a little too much time with you But 'time’ and 'too much’ don’t belong together like we do If I had all my yesterdays I’d give 'em to you too I belong to you now I belong to you”

“I see the wo-”

The sound of something dropping startled you and made you look at the source of the sound. It had been Ezra’s book, that much you could see but it was more the look he had on his face that gave you pause.

“Songbird.” Ezra breathed the word out like it was the sweetest word in existence, like it was the culmination of all the wonders of the worlds delivered to him at once, and combined with the look of stunned awe on his face, he sounded like he had just witnessed something indescribably glorious.

The blush creeping up your neck wasn’t that strange in Ezra’s company, the man seemingly lived to fluster you, but in this instant it felt different somehow. The changed term of endearment didn’t escape your notice either.

“… What?” You shifted on your seat, suddenly overwhelmed by the weirdly irrational feeling of doubt and embarrassment. “Sorry, I’ll stop-”

“No, no no no, songbird, please don’t mistake this interruption as a request for cessation, Kevva forbid-” Ezra got up, his book forgotten as he hurried his way to sit in front of you, still looking like he was witnessing the birth of a galaxy while he was given all his birthdays at once.

“I apologize for my clumsiness that distracted you from your practice, and forgive my presumptuous request, but I implore you to finish your song if there is still some of it left.” His voice had grown unusually hushed as he peered at your now very warm face, practically on the edge of his already precarious seat.

The silence stretched for a bit as you tried to respond. This was quite possibly the most captivated and enthusiastic audience you had had in a very long time and it was poking at your nervousness more than you would have guessed.

“Um. Well, okay, uh, just…” Fingers back on the strings and the fret, you counted from where you were and started again.

“I see the world the exact same way that you do We lend our hands, and take our stance In tandem when we do But I lied and said I knew the way And I hid my eyes from you I still don’t know why I probably didn’t wanna scare you”

You could feel Ezra's gaze on you, though you were trying your best not to let your brain psyche you out and just kept going.

“I’m gonna die the exact same day as you On the golden gate bridge I’ll hold your hand and howl at the moon Scrape the sky with tired eyes, and I will come find you And I ain’t scared 'Cuz I’m never gonna miss you.”

“I belong to you now I belong to you.”

You looked up at Ezra, and had barely enough time to draw a breath before he was kissing you sweetly. You let out a surprised squeak and he lifted his hand bringing it to the back of your neck, caressing your skin as the kiss went on, somehow passionate while remaining warm and almost chaste, considering how his kisses usually were.

He pulled back, pressing his forehead against yours as he smiled with his eyes closed. He huffed a laugh as his hand slid over to cup your cheek, almost reverently.

"All the words in the language at my disposal and I cannot find a single one to describe what I am feeling at this very moment, songbird."

It was a little strange how easily he could summon a flock of butterflies into your gut while making your heart squeeze in delight. And all you could offer him back was a delicate "Oh.".

And then he kissed you again, brushed your cheek like you were a miracle and suddenly words felt incredibly superfluous. You wove your hand into his hair and carded your fingers through it, enjoying the affection he was giving you. When you broke the kiss, you bit your lip shyly.

"So I take it that I should play more?" "Songbird, the day I refuse the pleasure of hearing you serenade again is the day I am long dead and turned to dust." "Do... You want me to play something else?" "There is nothing that would please me more."

And who were you to deny such an earnest request?

#ezra x reader #ezra (prospect 2018)#prospect movie #fanfic

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stillwinterair · 5 years ago

Text

Pretty sure this thing is rife with typos and inconsistencies because I spent way too long writing this and Refuse to proofread, but, some notes from the writers’ room (my brain) on my Personal Mental Sequel Trilogy Rewrite:

On paper, I think the Kylo/Snoke situation as it occurs is really compelling. Killing Snoke midway through the trilogy was a stupid move in the context of the trilogy we got, but could have very easily been made to work well with a few changes... many of which in The Force Awakens.

(This is gonna mostly be focused on Kylo Ren, but in this version of the story he’s far from the focus, it’s just kinda what I would want to see from a villain)

The ultimate goal in my own personal version of the trilogy would have been to make the late-second-act twist (this trilogy’s “I am your father” moment) be Kylo Ren becoming Supreme Leader, and cementing himself as the big bad. But to do that effectively... we have to make Kylo Ren more sympathetic. We have to trick the audience into thinking he’ll come around. As it stands... the movies don’t actually do this. A certain subset of fans certainly think they did, but there’s really no buildup to “Bendemption” aside from a single scene where he’s hesitant to kill his mom, I guess. Other than that, he’s all evil, all the time.

He should still do all the same things: slaughter a village of innocents, torture multiple people, stand idly by as his fascist regime destroys the seat of galactic government. But give him moments of pause before they happen, and feed into the “pull to the Light” with whispered voices calling through the Force, begging him to stop. Every time, he almost listens... but he pushes them away. And every time he pushes them away, something in him changes. He stands taller, grips his blade tighter, and his power with the Force grows a little stronger.

Now, another crucial building block to the twist: move Kylo’s “doesn’t wanna shoot Leia” scene up a movie... and give it to Han.

The scene plays out as we see it in TFA: Han Solo pleads with his son to come home (I would have had them find Luke by this point for the sake of a trio reunion but that’s an entirely different thread to follow). Kylo Ren -- or, perhaps, Ben Solo? -- grips the silent hilt of his lightsaber, visibly unsure. Is he going to submit to his father? Does he plan to kill him?

We don’t find out. Not in this movie, anyway.

A blast rings out. A bolt hits Han in the chest, his eyes glaze over, his fingers drift from his son’s cheek, first slowly, then altogether. He tumbles aside, falling to his death. The camera pans: someone, perhaps Phasma or Hux, is looking down the smoking barrel of their rifle. They salute, then quickly take cover as the distraught and agonized trio of Rey, Finn, and Chewbacca begin firing on them.

Rage fills Kylo Ren’s eyes. He tenses. His lips twist into a twitching grimace. It seems entirely focused on Phasma/Hux. Bands of white-hot electricity trace the lengths of his fingers.

And then it all subsides.

He turns on his heel and pursues our trio, and the film proceeds as we’ve seen it, except again, Luke is also there. I’ll figure out that puzzle piece later.

EPISODE VIII:

Snoke should be heavily involved here, very clearly the puppet master pulling Kylo’s strings. Kylo is clearly haunted, though: those whispers we heard throughout the last movie are growing louder. Who are they? Jedi of the past? The souls of the dead? Anakin Skywalker himself, his spirit shattering itself into a million little pieces trying to push past the jagged barrier of Dark-side energy Kylo Ren surrounds himself with?

But Kylo needs to be less composed in this movie than he is in TLJ. No standing around calmly or stoically, he’s constantly on edge, looking over his shoulder, feeling judged by everyone and dreading it. Kylo Ren is tortured and haunted and it feels like at any moment, the facade will break. Clearly, the source of all his problems are because he isn’t being who he’s supposed to be, right? Clearly he could turn around at any moment and become someone better, right? Right?

Rey ends up before Snoke and Kylo Ren again, because she thinks Ben Solo can be saved, because the narrative is at least putting some work into making us think he can (“he’s haunted by the choices he’s been making, why wouldn’t he turn back to the Light?”). Snoke plays them against each other, yadda yadda yadda, but it perhaps becomes apparent that Snoke has an ulterior motive:

He doesn’t want Kylo Ren anymore. He wants Rey.

He toys with them, makes them duel to the death, but there’s a lot at play here: Snoke wants the strongest to survive, to shape them into a more worthwhile apprentice. Rey fights defensively, refusing to give up on Ben. Kylo is as aggressive as we’ve ever seen him, more conflicted than ever, raging against the voices in his head. Turn away from her, and strike him down, they say. Join the girl, rebuild the Jedi. Come back to Luke. Come back to your mother. The voices are familiar: Jedi from the past, friends who have died along the way. And then a final voice rings out, more ghostly than the rest: Come home, son, says Han Solo, an echo of his soul which has left a stain on the Force surrounding his son.

He knows what he has to do.

The electric currents we saw in our previous episode return, stronger now. The ground around him is charred, ash-black. Years of so-called “Gray Jedi” in Legends jump back to mind: are we actually going to see a Light-sider using Force lightning? you might wonder. All of his energy goes into a singular blast, aimed at Rey...

But it arcs past her, decimates Snoke’s guards. The Supreme Leader stands, shocked and enraged. He challenges Kylo: “You dare slaughter your own allies? You, boy, are nothing but a worm! But it matters not. I never needed you, anyway. The girl will take your place, and you’ll die as they did.”

Snoke attacks, but his mastery of the Force is nothing compared to what comes next: a torrent of lightning from the fingers of Kylo Ren.

The blast knocks Rey back, flings Anakin’s lightsaber from her hands. But when she stands, there’s a smile on her face. She did it. She won. The evil in Ben Solo has been vanquished, the Light has prevailed, and the First Order is finally defeated.

She asks him to come back with her, back to Luke, to Leia, to the Jedi. He can start again, help rebuild, save the galaxy.

He turns back to face her, and his eyes are bloodshot and yellow. He’s seething. He extends a hand, and an offer: join him, let the past die, create something new. Feel the power of the Dark side. There’s nothing like it. There never has been, and never will be.

This is the true Kylo Ren. The first steps of his manipulation were led by Snoke, but it was the taste of power that led him the rest of the way. It seduced him. Consumed him.

We cut back to the lightsaber of Anakin Skywalker, lying on the ground far away. We see Ren and Rey far in the background, standing opposed, but they’re out of focus. The lightsaber is all we can truly see. It begins to shiver, as if being called by someone. Presumably Rey. We cut back.

Rey refuses his offer, refuses the power, tempting as it may be.

“No? Then you’ll die as he did. As all your weak friends will.”

Another torrent of lightning bursts forth from Kylo Ren. But Rey makes no moves to defend or attack: she’s utterly in shock, confounded by this turn of events.

When the lightsaber ignites, it isn’t Rey who’s holding it. It’s Finn. Lightning crashes into it, holding it back, long enough for Rey to regain control, Force-push Kylo, and for the two of them to run.

Rey and Kylo’s Force bond from TLJ is maintained, as is the ending shot of Rey closing the door of the Falcon in Kylo’s face... but with it comes a darkness. The bond is severed. The door has been closed forever.

The twist of the Original Trilogy’s second act was that the villain was of our hero’s blood; in the end, it saved him.

The twist of our Sequel Trilogy’s second act is that the tortured soul we thought might have been a hero, never was one and never could be. You ~subvert expectations~ but in a way that builds the mythos and actually pays off a plot thread. Looking back at all of Kylo’s moments of tortured almost-goodness, the realization hits that he always had a chance and never took it, that the whispering voices which followed him, his pull to the Light, were an annoyance that pushed him the other way.

Anakin, Luke, and Ben were easily corrupted by the Dark. The difference is, Anakin was manipulated, Luke had the force of will to be a hero anyway, and Ben reveled in the Darkness. These are the Palpatine genes resurfacing.

And then in our Episode IX, we wouldn’t [re]introduce a new (well, old, but new to this trilogy) villain in the LAST ACT, but would instead build the story and mythos of one villain throughout the trilogy, off the puppet master when his role is done, and let him flourish as the evil bastard he always should have been. And then the Force-ghost of Anakin Skywalker can show up and basically confirm that he hasn’t been around because he’s been trying for decades to reach his grandson, that it consumed all of his power, etc.

Anyway. This is a lot but we could have had a really compelling villain here but they didn’t do fucking ANYTHING with him

#star wars #idk how the hell to tag this #anti reylo #for good measure #anti bendemption

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