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artficlly · 2 years

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face the music (chapter 9)

Music College Marvel AU - Chapter 9

!frat!musician!bucky x !frat!musician!steve x !musician!femreader

Warnings: angst, bit of fluff, violence, mentions of blood, lots of discussion of outing, mentions of alcohol, Natasha being a general menace to society, lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 4k

A/N: wanted to pump this one out before i went to bed!! most of the party scene was NOT in my plan for this chapter, it just kinda happened so apologies for that. Next chapter we'll get some cute fluff of the boys taking care of drunk y/n so look forward to that! should i make up a playlist of songs used during this series? I was kinda basing the assignment song on All I Wanted by Paramore. also, once again forgive me for the music lingo, i don't know anything about music lmao. not proof read, sorry for typos

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

Bucky and Steve had picked up on your anxiety the moment you entered the classroom. After two weeks of practicing, it was finally time to perform and you didn’t feel entirely ready. If you were singing something familiar to you? Or if you were playing the piano? Maybe then you wouldn’t feel uneasiness clawing as your gut. You were making your debut as not only a lead vocalist but a lead vocalist for a punk rock piece. You could imagine your mother turning in her grave, she was always one of those snobs who believed in classical music superiority.

Another thing that didn’t help ease your anxiety was the tension in the room. With both John and Loki back on campus, there was an unspoken strain put across the class. Dirty glances and wary looks were thrown, almost like you were all expecting the room to explode at any moment.

Thankfully, most of your friends had read your body language and quickly realized you didn’t want to be bugged. You had spent most of the first hour of performances brooding in the corner. You had hoped to feel a little more cheerful before your performance. Maybe even come off as a little less of a bitch when congratulating others. You didn’t think anyone blamed you though, not with John lingering across the room, sneering at you.

The moment you stepped in front of the microphone though, it was like a switch was flipped in your brain. No more anxiety or worry, just a job to do. You silently thanked your performers brain for taking over. Fiddling with the microphone stand, you adjusted it to your height while the three boys set up behind you. All the performances were being live streamed to the college’s social media as usual. Ironically enough, you wondered if this was going to be a good practice for the revenge plan that was underway.

“You ready?” Steve asked from beside you, quiet enough so the mic wouldn’t pick up his voice.

“Yeah, tell Bucky to count when he’s ready,” You reply back quietly, turning away from the mic to face Steve. He smiles at you softly, much in contrast to your nervous frown. Leaning forward, he whispers in your ear.

“You’re going to do great, darling.” He says, somehow you hold back shuddering at the feeling of his breath against your ear and neck. Then, to your surprise, he kisses your forehead. You stare at him blankly for a moment, before cracking a small smile.

“You’re insufferable, Rogers.” You mutter, turning to your microphone. Steve chuckles to himself as you do so, you can only thank your nerves for stopping you from flushing pink in front of your entire class. Sharon and Scott are fucking losing their minds across the room, that would be a painful conversation later.

After being given a quick thumbs up from Steve and Sam, Bucky counts the four of you down with the smack of his drumsticks before Steve comes in on the guitar. You time the chords before you come in with the lyrics, silently praying for this to go as smoothly as all the practices from the past week.

The song starts out slow, perfect for you to warm up your voice a little further before having to hit some of the harder notes. You try to block out the rest of the people in the room, the mixture of grins and sneers staring up at you. Instead you focus on the camera, the sound of the music as you follow your queues.

As the music began to pick up, Bucky coming in on the drums loudly, your vocals followed the urgency. You started calmer, until eventually building up to harder notes that you had to belt out to achieve. You could see Steve grinning at you, hardly paying attention to playing his chords. You didn’t even want to imagine the smirk Bucky would have plastered all over his face.

You could imagine what they’d say. ‘See, we were right, Siren! You can sing anything, no reason to worry!’. It was probably a bit pathetic that your chest swelled with pride just thinking about how much they supported you.

The music slowly cut out as it was your queue to hit the small solo section. It was only a few words of you belting before they all came back in on their respective instruments, but you kept your voice steady and powered through the section without fault.

From there, the last of your lyrics was belted to match the tempo of the song. You could understand why so many rock singers had raspiness to their voices, having to hit such aggressive notes like these. It wasn’t the same as a high-pitched note in opera, no, there was a power, an emotion behind it you couldn’t describe. You had chosen to do this song, so the least you could do was fucking kill it.

Finally, your piece was over. The last of the notes from the guitar fizzled out and the class erupted into their usual applause and cheers. Instruments safely put back in place, the four of you descend the stage and rejoin Sharon, Scott and Clint in the back. Sharon lets out a little squeal, hugging you before you can protest.

“Oh my god! You did so well hitting those notes!” She says excitedly in your ear while you just let out a shy laugh and retreat to one of the couches. Maybe if the tension of the room wasn’t hanging over you, you would’ve celebrated more openly. You were rather desperate to get out of John’s presence. Bucky and Steve follow you after a quick conversation with Sam who heads over towards Wanda and Natasha. Natasha looks pissed off as usual, while Wanda offers you a kind smile. You could understand why Sam liked her, unlike Natasha she was always kind to everyone around her.

“See! You did amazing!” Steve says, patting your knee as he sits. You roll your eyes with a shy smile. John was watching your interaction like a fucking hawk from across the room. You couldn’t help but wonder if he would’ve tried to approach you again if you were guarded by Bucky and Steve all the time.

“Shush.” You say dismissively, despite the grin forming across your face.

“We’re gonna celebrate properly with drinks tonight, Siren. You can’t worm your way out of that one!” Bucky announces.

By the time you had arrived at the party, you were already tipsy. You, Steve, Bucky and Sam had all gone out to the student bar for a couple drinks, which then turned into a few more. The party was already in full-swing when the four of you arrived, Scott and Clint cheering as you stumbled through the door laughing.

The few drinks you had at the bar turned into more as you chatted with Sharon, Yelena and Kate. It felt nice to talk about random bits of gossip and joke around with them, it felt like you had been surrounded by the boys testerone a little too much recently. Though most of the gossip ended with Yelena and Kate trying to pry into your dynamic with the boys, much to your distress. You couldn’t understand why everyone was convinced something was going on, when your silly schoolgirl-crush feelings were definitely one sided in your opinion.

Though, it was only a matter of time before Scott came and dragged you away. He had loudly announced how Bucky and Steve were whining incessantly, asking where you were and wanting to talk to you. You had rolled your eyes with an embarrassed flush while the girls knowingly grinned at you.

“What did you do to get them so whipped, Y/N?” Yelena had teased, much to your further embarrassment. You had only managed to whine a low ‘I don’t know!’ before you hid your face behind your cup, draining the last of the contents before letting Scott drag you away.

Steve had wrapped his arms around you, giving you a kiss on the cheek. The two of them were tipsy, definitely not as drunk as you. No, you were seconds away from forgetting the night with the way the room was spinning. You leaned on Steve for support, trying to catch up with the conversation Bucky and Sam were having. Wanda was tucked into Sam’s side with a content smile, Natasha nearby scowling at you. You shuddered at that, sending Sharon a quick ‘help me’ text. Sharon, much to your surprise, was over to your side in an instant.

“I’m going to the bathroom, come with me?” She asked, helping pry you from Steve’s grip. You nodded, sending Steve an apologetic smile as he groaned in annoyance.

“Why do girls always pee together?” He asked, which was only met with a laugh from you and Sharon.

“That’s classified, Rogers.” Sharon snips, dragging you from the circle towards the downstairs bathroom. You were glad you opted for your docs tonight, heels would’ve been a mistake to even attempt to walk in.

“Thank you, I swear if Natasha could kill with a glare, I’d be like… so dead.” You giggle, though your smile quickly turns into a frown when you see the line for the bathroom. Clint had let a bunch of freshmen in for some reason, and it seemed the line was longer that you had the patience for.

“Come on, let’s use the upstairs one.” You grumble, dragging Sharon towards the stairs.

“I thought upstairs was off-limits tonight?” Sharon asked confused, staggering after you in her heels.

“Yeah, only ‘cause of the freshers. We’ll be fine.” You explain, pushing your way into the empty bathroom and locking the door behind the two of you.

“Okay, this was a great excuse to save you from Natasha but I actually need to pee.” Sharon laughs. You nod, turning your back so you’re looking at your reflection in the mirror. You silently fix your hair, reapplying your lipgloss and inspecting your eyeliner to make sure it wasn’t smudged.

“I’m so fucking drunk right now,” You whine, only turning around to look at Sharon after she is finished. You move out of the way as Sharon goes to wash her hands. She’s smirking to herself about something, you internally groan already knowing where this is going.

“Probably doesn’t help that Bucky and Steve are like… all over you tonight.” She says with a snicker, catching your eye in the mirror.

“Ugh. Don’t say that.” You grumble, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. You were glad you opted for something mid-thigh, anything shorter and you probably would’ve flashed someone in your drunken state.

“Seriously! They’re, like, in love with you!” Sharon cries with a laugh, washing the soap from her hands.

“No they’re not!” You protest, watching Sharon grin at you through the mirror as she dries her hands.

“They literally are though! They follow you around like a couple of lost puppies, you should see the little lovesick looks they give you all the time!” She continues.

“No! Shush!” You whine.

“They love you!” Sharon giggles, drawing out the ‘o’ while you make an upset face.

“Oh my god, they don't, they're gay.” You say, then slap your hand over your mouth when you realize what you’ve said. Sharon gapes at you in silence for a moment as both your drunken brains work overtime to process what you just announced.

“They’re what?” She asks in shock. You take a step back, tears forming in your eyes as you shake your head. No. Fuck. Why did you say that? How fucking stupid and drunk were you right now to just let massive information like that just slip out?

“Wait. No, fuck. You can’t tell anyone Sharon. Oh my god, I didn’t mean for that to slip out - fuck!” You stumble over your words, tears already beginning to pour down your cheeks. Great, now you’re drunk and emotional. Crying because you just fucking outed Bucky and Steve in some weird bathroom confession. You didn’t even know why you were crying, maybe it was just the stress of all the recent events, all the sleepless nights finally catching up to you.

“They’re gay? How do you even-?” Sharon starts, but you grab her by the shoulders.

“You can’t tell anyone Sharon, they’ll never forgive me, oh my god.” You blubber, Sharon frowns, pulling you into a hug.

“Are you sure they’re not bisexual? Or pansexual? They’re still both obviously into you-” Sharon starts but you cut her off with a half-sob half-screaming noise. You’d just outed them, just exposed their secret and Sharon was still continuing with this bit?

“No, for fucksake. They’re dating, they’re not into me.” You mumble through tears. Your eyeliner was definitely going to be messed up now. God, you were screwed.

“They’re… they’re dating?” Sharon questions, just as a loud knocking comes from the bathroom door as someone tries to get inside.

“It’s probably some fucking freshers,” The distinct voice of Natasha cuts through the door. “Hey! You’re not allowed up here, get the fuck out!” She shouts, continuing to rattle the doorknob and bang on the door.

“Fuck,” You hiss, wiping some of the tears from your cheeks. “Please don’t tell anyone, I’m serious.” You beg Sharon.

“Of course I won’t, what do you think I am, a monster?” She chuckles, going to unlock the door while you frown. Loki had threatened to out them, and Bucky and Steve hated him. How would they react to what you had done, you had actually outed them. The guilt is already eating away at you, stupid alcohol making you not think before talking. You’d have to tell Steve and Bucky what you had done when you were less emotional, damage control or whatever.

“We’re unlocking the door now, jesus!” Sharon shouts, tugging the door open. You’re faced with a pissed off looking Natasha and Wanda. Natasha gives you a filthy look, near sneering when she sees your tear stained cheeks.

“You’re not supposed to use this bathroom,” Natasha snarls, you flinch but Sharon holds strong.

“Yeah? And neither are you. We’re not fucking freshers, Natasha, grow up.” Sharon snaps back at her. Grabbing your wrist, Sharon pulls you past Natasha and Wanda, purposely shouldering Natasha on the way out.

“Why are you crying, Y/N? Barnes and Rogers not giving you enough attention?” Natasha says to you as you pass by. Any other day, any other time it wouldn’t have hurt. Any other time both you and Sharon would’ve walked away with a scoff. But you were both drunk and emotional. Sharon pauses her walking, you feel your stomach drop when you see the enraged look in her eyes. If Sharon was one thing, she was a protector.

“The fuck did you just say to her?” Sharon growls at Natasha. Natasha looks near delighted by Sharon’s sudden aggression, almost like she had been hunting for a good fight all night.

“Just asking why she’s crying like a little bitch?” Natasha says innocently, grin across her red lips. Wanda looks horrified, grasping Natasha’s arm to hold her back as Sharon moves to shout into Natasha’s face.

“Sharon don’t,” You warn. You followed Wanda’s action, grabbing her by the arm and trying to pull her back. You can already feel a fresh wave of tears beginning to surface as the tension in the hallway rises. You should’ve known this would happen. You thought it would be because of Loki or John, not Natasha.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Romanoff.” Sharon snarls, lunging forward. You grasp her tightly but only achieve being dragged forward with her. Wanda lets out a scream, everything moving faster than you can process. With a blur, Natasha punches Sharon right in the nose, blood spouting down Sharon’s face as you drag her away. Natasha and Sharon are screaming and cussing at each other, it takes all your strength to pull Sharon deeper into the hallway.

You can’t even understand what they’re screaming, only that you need to get them far away from each other.

Clint rounds the top of the stairs, sending you a horrified look before placing himself between Natasha and Sharon. Blood is still flowing from Sharon’s nose, in the panic it has dripped all down her face onto both your outfits and arms.

Despite all the screaming, the world feels silent as you stare at the blood across your skin. Your grip slowly loosens on Sharon as you stagger away. You’re not sure if you’re shaking from the shock or from the sobs taking over your body. There is blood everywhere, you try to scrub it off but only succeed in smudging it deeper into your skin.

You outed Bucky and Steve and now Sharon was bleeding because of you. Another party, another fucking disaster. Trying to calm yourself, you turn back around to drink in the developing situation. Sam is holding back Natasha while Wanda is shouting at her to calm down, Clint is helping Sharon nurse her bloody nose. Scott had also appeared at some point, looking between the groups of hysterical women in shock.

As if on cue, Bucky and Steve round the corner into the hallway. They must’ve been summoned by the sounds of screaming. Bucky takes one look at you - sobbing and stained with blood - and pushes through the gathering crowd to get to you. You flinch away as he gets close, hugging yourself as tears continue flowing down your cheeks.

They were going to be so mad, so disappointed, so scared. You had betrayed them by accidentally outing them, they would never forgive you. You felt inconsolable, sobs racking your body as Bucky watched you with a mixture of concern and distress. He turns to Steve, muttering some instructions to the blond before grasping your shoulder despite your protests.

He pulls you into his room, immediately letting go and stepping away the moment you were safely inside. He stands in silence, watching as you gradually begin to calm yourself from your sobbing.

“Siren, darling. Are you hurt?” He eventually speaks up, voice low.

“No. No. It’s Sharon’s blood. Fuck, is she okay?” You say through gasps. Bucky hesitantly reaches forward, placing his hands on your shoulders and beginning to rub them comfortingly. You don’t flinch away, instead leaning into the touch.

“She’s okay. Clint and Scott are helping her.” He assures you, pulling you closer as you try to steady your gasping breaths.

“I was scared when I saw you crying like that, I thought Natasha hit you too.” He admits, rubbing slow circles into your back. You let out a shuddering breath, only pulling away as Steve ducks into the room with a cup of water.

“Here, drink this,” Steve murmurs quietly, handing you the cup. You take a few sips, the cool water calming you briefly. You observe the boys through red, puffy eyes. Why were they always so kind to you? You felt so much guilt having them looking after you like this when you had betrayed them.

A fresh wave of tears hit you again, you hear Bucky sigh through his nose. It’s almost like he can hear your overthinking brain ticking away, making the situation worse.

“Sharon’s okay, you’re okay. There is no need to worry.” He reassures you, reaching out. You shake your head, back away and sit down on the edge of his bed.

“I fucked up,” You mumble from behind the cup.

“No you didn’t. Natasha is just a psycho who gets into fights with everyone.” Steve says, sitting next to you. You just hand him the cup for him to place on the bedside table. You sit in silence, rubbing some of the tears from your cheeks as they continue to flow.

“Not that.” You sigh. “In the bathroom with Sharon - fuck. She wouldn’t shut up about you two, about how she’s convinced you’re in love with me or some shit. I was trying to tell her it wasn’t like that but she wouldn’t listen! I was just so drunk, I am so drunk. I didn’t think about it before I said it, it just kinda slipped out.” You stumble over your words. You can’t even look them in the eye. The guilt, it’s eating you alive, piece by piece.

“What slipped out?” Bucky asks, voice low and calm. You suppress a sob. Why was he so kind, so patient? Steve’s hand finds your knee, squeezing it gently to comfort you.

“She just wouldn’t shut up about it, so I told her it made no sense because you guys are gay. Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it, I didn’t mean to. And now I’m the one crying like this is all about me when I’ve completely fucked you two over-” Bucky chuckling cuts your rambling off. You stare at him in shock for a moment, why was he laughing? Had he slipped into shock? Gone entirely mad?

“That’s why you’re crying? Shit, darling.” Bucky says between soft laughter, even Steve is smiling to himself.

“Wait. You’re not mad? I just outed you - how do you not hate me? You were mad when Loki threatened to out you and I actually did!” You cry. Bucky shakes his head, moving to kneel in front of where you sat on the bed. His hands smooth the fabric of your dress on your thighs, blue eyes staring up at you.

“Of course I don’t hate you, Siren. It was an honest mistake. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re drunk. Don’t we Steve?” He says, looking at the blond for backup. Steve just smiles, giving you a short hug.

“Of course we’re not mad! Shit happens, you didn’t do it maliciously. Loki was going to do that to hurt us, we know that you would never hurt us like that, darling. Do you know how many times we’ve accidentally outed ourselves while drunk? That’s how Sam found out - we literally forgot and made out in front of him.” Steve explains, you giggle a bit at that which makes Bucky smile, some of the worry for you leaving his expression.

“So you’re seriously not mad at me?” You ask. Steve tackles you to the bed with a hug while you make a small squealing noise.

“We aren’t mad. Plus it’s Sharon, she would never tell anyone! She knew Scott was queer before he even knew himself, and she didn’t do anything bad. She probably would’ve found out sooner or later anyway.” Steve explains, you visibly relax into his arms.

“I’m still sorry though-” You start, only to be met with Bucky groaning.

“It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re drunk, shit happens. We forgive and forget, it’s all okay, Siren.” Bucky says, patting your knee in reassurance. You can’t help but feel like a weight is lifted from your shoulders. Even if you still feel guilty and terrible for what you did, the fact that they forgave you without a fuss… Maybe it was your drunk brain talking, or the blushing schoolgirl. You wanted to just reach out and kiss the both of them.

“Fuck. I’m the drunk one that needs to be taken care of at this party, aren’t I?” You groan, Steve only laughs, letting go as you as he sits back up. You rub your face, still laying on your back on the bed. You needed to pull yourself together, god you were a mess.

“It’s okay,” Steve chuckles at you as you pout. He looked so handsome, his hair all ruffled and messy from the party.

“First I out you to Sharon, now you have to take care of me while I'm hysterical and drunk.” You grumble.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you're drunk.” Bucky says with a grin, you roll your eyes and bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret in the morning. “And for the record, we’re bisexual, not gay.”

“Great,” You grumble, embarrassed. “Should we go update Sharon then?” You joke, the two of them snicker at that.

“Might want to wait a bit if you value your teeth being in your mouth, Natasha is still lurking out in the hallway looking for another fight.” Steve says, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

“I think the question is, when isn’t Natasha looking for a fight?” Bucky mutters.

All you can do is let out a horrified laugh.

Chapter 10

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lovecolibri · 1 year

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SaL anon here friend, ready and looking forward to being absolutely unhinged and insufferable for RWRB premier day!! I am ready for this to become my whole personality for the next 5-10 business days and block off time this weekend to read endless amounts of fanfic. Like you said, things won't always play out the way they did in the book and there are probably some scenes I'd love to see onscreen that they just won't have time for, but everyone involved looks like they're so happy and having fun, the clips we've gotten do nothing but bring me joy, and the director and the actors feel like they're so, so respectful of the source material I just can't imagine how it could go wrong at this point. So I'm busting out the popcorn and cheap champagne tonight bestie, we deserve this 🍿🍾!!

And I know you won't have time to do a song before hand, and I kind of want to watch that part of the book play out before I commit, but I absolutely have had a song in mind since I saw that still of Henry leaving a sleeping Alex at the lakehouse. And not just any song, THE SONG, my absolute beloved of SaL songs (I know you know which one). Just how perfect would that be as a Henry POV, with all its water imagery, during their sort of break up that starts with them swimming in the lake and ends during a downpour (I can hear the " I'm only honest when it rains" on repeat in my head)?? Let's see if the movie will deliver all my angsty hopes for that scene, but even if it doesn't I don't think I'll be disappointed. So cheers friend, let's do this 🥂🥂🥂!!!

I have a few hours left and I am dyyyyying to leave work and go Prepare To Be Wrecked! Also, I really need movies and shows to get it together and start utilizing more Sleeping at Last songs for their gut punch potential in sad/dramatic/tender scenes. I can't wait to talk about Neptune (and any other songs that might strike a chord), and flail about something FUN and FUNNY, that doesn't shy away from the love story. I am having a lot of stress today (lots of "is this hotel booking site sketchy or is my bank just being difficult again" stress which is making concert preparations less than fun and joyful) so this is exactly what I need! And as someone who loves love stories, I am READY to be a blushing, giggling mess for 2 hours about these two.

Cheers bestie, I can't wait to talk to you in 3-5 business days when everyone has finally stopped hitting their post limits every day with RWRB gifset reblogs!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #rwrb #let's goooooo!#i'm going home and BOOKING through my workout so i can settle in and get comfortable with some popcorn!

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bogglebabbles · 2 years

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Video game asks: 1, 2, 4, 5, 13, 20, 22!

WHOA Thank you Wendy!! Time for me to be insufferable. >:)

Last game you finished

'Finished' is maybe the wrong term since it's continuously being updated, but it'd be FFXIV, specifically the Endwalker expansion (which is the latest expansion and the last instalment of that particular overarching plot so it does kind of count as finishing). 10000/10 highly recommend.

2. Game(s) you’re currently playing

Would you believe it's also FFXIV? (there's so much to do. MMOs are a blessing and a curse)

For the sake of variety, though, I have also been playing 'Raft' when I need something different to play.

4. Do you like to get 100% achievements/trophies?

Generally I don't stress myself out with completionism but I do like having tidy little sets and things. I was very much a 'gotta catch 'em all' type with Pokemon back when I'd play it. I think that's less a desire to complete everything 100% and more me wanting to be a magpie.

5. Game(s) coming out that you’re looking forward to

I'm terrible about staying on top of new releases these days, but one I'm really excited to play once it comes out is 'Haunted Chocolatier'! It looks right up my alley, and I adored Stardew Valley so I can't wait to see how this holds up.

13. Quick, name the first song from a game that comes to mind

Have literally been humming 'In The Balance' from FFXIV for the last hour and a half. I am BEGGING y'all to listen to it, it's an absolute banger (though spoilers for a late-game raid so fair warning)

20. A boss you think is really cool

MASSIVE spoilers for FFXIV: Endwalker below so I'll put it under a cut:

The Endsinger, the final boss from Endwalker. Her design is delicious and I died approximately 8 million times the first time I fought her. Would do it again.

22. A game ending that’s really stuck with you

FFXIV: Endwalker Okay it's true, but also I know it gets memed a lot but Undertale was one that really stuck out to me. I played pacifist and it just felt very hopeful and kind, which is a feeling I like taking from a game I've been investing myself in. I'd finished that game in one sitting but it was really rich in impact. I should replay it some time.

#ask games #thank you again!!!#squenix just pay me ad revenue already i have never stopped shutting up about y'all's game and i likely never will

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mahariel-s · 11 months

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hi it's me again <3 i would love to come off anon but it's likely that you don't remember me so i don't wanna intrude! especially because i was going through a huge depressive episode (school + life in general plus they gave me the wrong meds) so after being absolutely insufferable for a while one day i just deactivated twitter and tumblr and said to hell with it lol. but i'm doing okay now. i wish i could go back and tell to our younger selves there's hope. AND YEAH gods did you see the state of fandoms on twitter? idrc about mervel or thorloki anymore but damn people are out for BLOOD. like chill... pet a flower or something, it's pixels on a screen. smh. anyways thank you for your beautiful response! <3

in the interest of being totally honest, there's quite a bit that i don't remember from mid-2017 onwards until maybe late 2018?? asjfdslg my sister died and it was a very traumatic time and it's like trying to look through a silent hill extra fog mod BUT THAT SAID,

i don't think it would be intruding if you came off anon :3 even if i don't remember you, i'd like to know you now -- if you were cool with that ofc -- because!!! yolo!!!!! we really only live once and you are so kind and what's the freaking harm!!! it sounds like we had/have a lot in common <3

i'm really glad to hear you're doing ok now. i reached a similar point of Done, where i deleted my blog and pretty much went private mode on all social media and stopped engaging in fandom. i hope you've been being kind to yourself, removing oneself from social media during times of tumult is like the absolute pinnacle of self-care when you think about it 😭 it's just so harddd and can feel so isolating

the current state of fandoms everywhere is why i don't really branch out? i want to make a ton of new friends but i'm so tired of discourse lmao, i see some topics that are p much verbatim BATTLES we would have back in 2012, and i'm like, "we fought this so y'all didn't have to!!!!! find our old posts!!!! stay strong~!!!" LMFAO ;-; but i just step back. to quote my 7th grade history teacher, "History has a tendency to repeat itself." Thank u mr. wiseman. yes, his last name was wiseman. no, i don't know if he changed it to that but he was a very wise old man and us kids could not get over the fact his name was what he also embodied. anyway

(this is an open invitation to say hi btw anyone reading LMAO I JUST DON'T LIVE FOR DRAMA SO I WILL STAY OUT OF IT IF IT COMES UP)

sorry for RAMBLING LMAOOO i'm here if you ever wanna come off anon and talk <333 i hope you have a wonderful week, i really appreciate receiving these messages + i look forward to hearing from u :333 (do NOT read that in a corporate email ' i look forawrd to ur future correspondence' way but in a cooler, Less Stressful way)

#anon #asks #ily hope you're doing well <33333

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matildashoney · 2 years

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Yes please!! If you don’t mind. I’ve seen so many mixed reviews. I’m hoping to start it in the next week or two

okay, i'll include all my spoilers under the cut this way if anyone is looking forward to reading or seeing the movie without knowing anything, they won't see what i have to say!

enjoy my analytical review, my friend.

firstly, the characters are insufferable. all of them. like, there is not one trait on each of the main three - tom, patrick, marion - that i find endearing or likable. patrick is so pretentious from the beginning that it makes it hard to see past that. yes, he's very smart and well-travelled, but he speaks to everyone as if they're an idiot and that annoys me. marion is purposefully ignorant. there are millions of signs to tell her that tom is gay, and millions of more signs to tell her that he's with patrick, and she simply ignores them all because she thinks she loves him and wants to be with him, like the fantasy she had when she was a girl. tom and marion don't even share the same views on family and life, so it genuinely only was a marriage of convenience. tom, well, he's a gay cop. you can start there. he's handsome and well-spoken and everyone likes him. except for the fact that he really doesn't have any like, stand-out qualities. he's liked for those two things alone. he's not very funny or more educated than the rest, he's just a handsome cop. and, yes, for the time that was a perfect man, but as a character, i didn't see anything about him that was like, okay i see why everyone wants him.

next, the details of the story were so much better in the beginning. the descriptions of love and heartbreak and all of that were so intense in the beginning to preface the story, that i felt like i would actually enjoy the story if there was more commentary like that throughout. once tom and patrick get together, there's not at much internal commentary and so it pretty much stops and turns into a relatively average book with mainly the descriptions of the scenes and then the dialogue.

(as someone that studied creative writing and different authors, i tend to like more of the descriptions and commentary that reveals the characters' thoughts and internal struggles - which is pretty obvious in anything i write - so this may be more of a personal preference, but it's something that turned me off the book)

lastly, the plot is just .. frustrating. like i said earlier, marion is purposefully ignorant. like, tom's sister literally tells her that she thinks tom is gay and marion is like no, he's not! he's teaching me to swim! patrick is obsessed with him after seeing him one singular time. nothing special even happened. he just saw him. for whatever reason, that plot line alone made me want to rip my hair out. i felt like i couldn't get behind them being together because there wasn't any substance as to why it started. that bothered me throughout the whole book. also the major twist in the end of the story is so infuriating. like, marion is the worst character. tom becomes so god damn insufferable and mean. i just, i felt like it left the characters feeling so unfinished and the love story so underwhelming. it could have been done so differently.

again, these are just my thoughts and opinions. i studied creative writing in my undergraduate degree and wanted to be an author for the longest time (still do) and so i really try to dissect why i don't like a book and why i do. to me, this novel just didn't answer the questions i wanted it to and didn't fulfill that swell in my chest i get when characters that are supposed to be apart actually get together. i think there was a lot of chemistry missing in the details.

#ask matildashoney #i got imagines for a heart #submit to matildashoney

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limerental · 3 years

Text

yennskier post-s2 canon, warnings for spoilers

She stumbles, coughs, and catches herself in the touch of steadying hands. The world blurs, and her body aches, and she is--

She looks up into the poet's eyes, a question in them, worry creasing his brow, and all at once, she is a girl again.

Your worst fear, she thinks, hearing his frantic rush of thoughts as if they are her own. Chaos thrums and burns and eclipses, and that awful gnawing emptiness she had felt as a powerless mortal smacks shut like a parted sea crashing back to stillness.

His very worst fears and hopes and dreams are so small in the wake of her own, but she thinks for the first time, the epiphany striking like a sharp pain, how close our wants truly lie to our fears.

It is only an instant that she looks at him, his thoughts rushing panicked and loud into her head, and then awareness of the rest of the world returns.

The air stinks of sulfur and the sweetness of blood, and she is needed here. She is needed, if not wanted.

She turns aside from the poet and does what she can. She heals wounds and saps out poison and lays shrouds over the ruined bodies.

Geralt does not glance her way, let alone look into her eyes. If he did, she does not know what he would see. Fear tangled in a wish. Longing and regret.

He does not look at her.

She finds the poet, after.

"I read your mind. As my chaos returned to me," she confesses. He sets aside his journal, having been scribbling notes most of the afternoon, and she is surprised to see that he looks curious rather than angry.

"Oh?" he says, leaning forward as though she is about to tell him a very good story. "I thought mages did that all the time." He waves a hand vaguely. "You know just. Plucking thoughts from the masses. Eavesdropping."

"No," says Yennefer. "It's impolite. It's… I didn't mean to."

She feels as though she has said those words again and again and again now.

I did not mean to. I had no choice. I felt I had no choice. I feared that I would become nothing but a sum of the choices I made with my back to the wall. I made a mistake but I did not know what else to do. I have fought my whole life to be allowed a say in my own future. I do not know how to do anything else.

"You saw something bad?" he asks. "Oh dear, I can't say I remember what i was thinking in that moment. Tend to turn off the lights up there when in crisis, you know. Ah. Ah dear, was it nipples again? It's always--"

"I saw your worst fear."

"Ah," says Jaskier. He does not sound the appropriate amount of violated she feels that he should. "I fear a lot of things, you know. Not nipples, at least. Can cross that one off the list."

His expression goes a bit dreamy.

"Stop thinking about tits," she says. "This is a serious conversation."

"I thought you said it was impolite to read someone's mind?"

"I don't have to read anything."

"Drat. I'm making a face aren't I? I always attempt to be subtle about it."

"Jaskier, you could not achieve subtlety if your miserable life depended on it."

"Hey now, I kept up a secret refugee rescuing identity for months."

"While singing songs every night about the crown princess of Cintra and exactly who she was sworn to."

"Er… right." He flushes pink. "I thought you were apologizing for wronging me immensely. Go back to that bit."

"You're insufferable," says Yennefer, but she's smiling. She sits down beside him against a drafty wall, close enough that their shoulders brush. It is the first warmth she has felt in a while. The closeness of his body.

"What's my worst fear, Yennefer?" he asks.

It still takes her off guard how his voice can carry that note of quiet sincerity. She supposes it shouldn't be a surprise. That the endless chatter and frivolity is in some ways an act, only part of who this man is.

She meets his eyes. Something grows taut in the atmosphere between them.

"Irrelevance," she says. "You fear being left behind. Not leaving a mark. Making yourself small for others. Not being remembered."

"Oh," says Jaskier, voice cracking in embarrassment. "Well. Right to the heart of the matter there."

"As I said, I should not have read it in your thoughts. For that I'm sorry. My… control has not been what it should be."

It is difficult. To admit her weakness. His strangely earnest expression makes her believe that he understands this.

"Then why tell me at all?" he asks. How soft his voice is. How quiet, for all his usual volume. She is learning that this strange, peacocking man contains multitudes. That she does not really know who he is at all.

It is difficult. As difficult as it always has been to set aside her pride. As impossible as ever to look directly at the truth of all that she fears.

She breathes deeply, feeling that this foolish man has somehow ended up the bravest among them. He, at least, does not hesitate to speak his mind, thought most words he says are frivolous nothings to fill the silence. But he too has things he does not dare speak aloud. She has heard them. She has felt them herself.

"We are the same," she says. "Our worst fears."

With a careful sort of bravery, she touches the back of his hand pressed against the stone floor. Wordlessly, he turns his palm up to meet hers, and their fingers catch and entangle. He squeezes, once, and she feels as though she may break open along the delicate fracture lines of her body. She may overflow.

Somehow, impossibly, she trusts him to catch the messy spill of her. If he is the vessel that will hold her, it would hardly feel like a trap.

"Yennefer," he says. How gently he says her name. With such awe and heaviness.

"My fear…" she says. "It's…"

"I know." He nudges their shoulders together, tightens his grip on her hand. "You don't have to say it. I understand."

And he does.

They sit slumped together on the floor of a ruined keep. They cling to one another, gripping tight. And for a moment, and in many moments after, Yennefer feels what it must be to be loved.

#yennskier #the witcher s2 spoilers #yenskier #yennefer x jaskier #the witcher #spoilers #thats dynamic

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

reckless [01.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. explicit smut, accidental pregnancy, playboy! gojo, slight angst

✘ note. dedicated to wifey @7tsumurai who also made the banner and always supports me and showers me with love aaaa i love you baby <3 also this fic is mostly romance and fluff so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! thank you to @chosonore for pr-ing UWU. and we get like...10-15 chapters of this?!

one ✘ two ✘ three

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The night was young; streaks of gold flashing with the shimmering jewellery collared on your neck, the romantic humming of the violins pairing perfectly with the champagne that fizzed in your hand. It was supposed to be another day at work where you accompanied your boss to one of his events, considering the Casanova refused to bring his girlfriends in fear they might get the wrong idea he liked them outside the bed. It should be just another day at work; you’ve accompanied him hundreds of times before. Today wasn’t any different.

And yet it was.

You blamed it on the alcohol. On the slow dancing. On the fact he hadn’t stopped complimenting you all night and you’d been so stressed, the amount of planning and sleepless nights sacrificed in exchange of preparing for this event made you grab for three more flutes, the touch of your undeniable attractive boss permanent on your waist.

Satoru was equally aggravated. You’d worked him long enough to recognize even the smallest of cues, and the fact you’d spend nearly every hour of the day working with him for weeks straight in the office let you know he needed to let off some steam.

And what better way to relieve both of your tensions if not to give in to the cloud of lust?

The sultry gazes, the clashing perfumes between rose and musk, and the alcohol – the fucking alcohol – that gave way to you succumbing to your desire just this once.

There were no more thoughts – or if there were, they were muddled – as you kissed him back just as passionately, forgetting the fact his stylist spent an hour gelling his hair back to perfection as your eager fingers traced over his scalp. How you ended up in the back of limousine was beyond you, and neither was it your biggest concern when Satoru insisted you kept your heels on; his large hands caressing all the way from the ankle pressed beside his waist up to your waist.

You felt his daft fingers move the lacy thong you wore especially for tonight (not because you expected something, but the boost in confidence felt necessary) before he slides inside almost too easily.

Both your gasps and moans are swallowed in the stuffy compartment, windows fogged saved for the handprint you’d left when he hit a sensitive spot. He was moaning in your neck, skin slippery and sweaty as you slid from one another, seemingly never staying from one place as your hands treaded through his hair down to rake your nails on his back; his touch angry on your hips before his thumb found home in your clit.

As much as you hated him, hated his reputation, you couldn’t deny he really earned his title for being an absolute god in sex. You were no virgin, but you’d never felt this good, never felt this alive as bruises began to form in your skin and his lips hungrily sought out yours.

“S-Sir...”

“Satoru,” he corrected through your lips, the kiss barely even one when you were too busy moaning left and right. Satoru hitched your leg up to fold it right beside your waist, allowing him to explore deeper territories that not even you could mark.

His stare on you is perverted; openly wanton as he lets his empyrean gaze snake down to where your bodies connected. It was embarrassing to be this spread wide open for him, though it didn’t matter much, not when you clutched onto his bicep for dear life and panted breathlessly. He was kissing you everywhere – smearing your lipstick all over your lips and his, a stain of red on his hard, white collar and love bites marked deep into your collarbones and under your breasts. You tightened around him once he changed his rhythm into a more sensual one; the quick pace replaced with him pulling out slowly – inch by delicious inch until you felt empty with each growing second – before slamming back inside with fervidity that he never quite possessed behind his desk.

He groaned at your walls clenching down on him, his hips stuttering in the process. “Call me Satoru.”

“Satoru,” you moaned out, and his next sounds were pained. Pained because you sounded too gorgeous, felt too good, and with you following his hips thrust by thrust, neither of you would last any longer. Not even as you shake your head, lips swollen as you remind him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a curled lip, sweat beading from the streaks of his white hair. “But I want you – god, you’re so beautiful tonight. Need to fuck you good—”

Gojo Satoru, one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South East Asia and ranked as the second richest man in his early twenties, was a man of his word despite his reputation. Just as he was praised and fawned over for his beauty, charisma, and power, he was equally hated for breaking the hearts of women and treating his past ‘lovers’ like they were objects. The news were so confident of it; that he fooled them, played around with them, but behind the scenes, you knew Satoru wouldn’t do such a thing – from the first time he laid his eyes on someone, he made it extremely clear they were not to be attached. Everything with him was physical and sensual – anything beyond that would simply be out of character.

You weren’t surprised that he really did keep his word and fuck you good, because you couldn’t feel your legs the next morning and even though it had been hours, you still very much felt the shape of him carve through you.

The bastard wouldn’t stop laughing, of course, snickering under his breath every now and then each time he saw you grimace from doing simple things such as standing up and giving him the files he asked for. Perhaps it was because your dislike for him was apparent that Satoru quickly went back to fooling around, pretending you didn’t exist and only approaching you when need be. There were still moments you had to clean his mess up for him; taking his drunken phone calls at 3am because he got wasted in a bar, or doing the same for his current sex buddy who he didn’t want to stay in his home.

He was terrible, terribly awful that you despised this part of him.

You were only grateful enough that neither of you brought that night up ever again, for no matter how immensely hellish of an experience it had been, it was also something you’d really rather not be reminded of.

But now, there was no more running away from it. The truth stared at you blatantly in the form of two white lines that had appeared four times already from previous tests.

You were pregnant.

The world had never been that heavy on you. You had a rough upbringing, but it was a household filled with love and patience that it was innate in your nature to keep strong, be levelled, continue moving forward even during the times it felt like everyone and everything was going against you. You’d been through so much worse and you can do this, but you still couldn’t stop the tears that pushed from your eyes, your heart shattering the same time you dropped the stick.

“No, we won’t cry, it’s okay. I can handle this – I’m strong,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, taking deep breaths to stabilize yourself. Clearly, this was unexpected, but you wanted to do your best, had to do your best. You didn’t have time to lose your composure, so you quickly fished your phone out your purse to dial the person you trusted the most.

“Rei...?”

Your best friend picked up on the second dial. “Sweetheart, where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like hours now and you’re not picking up, I heard you called in sick for work and you never do that even when you’re about to pass out!” Some shuffling could be heard from the background before she spoke again, her tone a lot more gentle in response to your muted sniffles. “Is there something going on? Do you need me to drop by there right now? Tell me what you need; I’ll be there right away.”

“No, no, Rei, it’s fine, I just...”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it. Rei had been there for you in everything, starting from when you newly arrived in the city; fresh-eyed and hopeful for new opportunities. She’d been there when you first complained your boss was a creepy flirt, all the way until you’d made peace with said boss and remained firm in your boundaries. But those boundaries had clearly been crossed – no, rather, you erased those boundaries. You were drunk enough to give in to the need to be touched, but sober enough to consent to everything that happened. You couldn’t place this all on him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said eventually, voice barely above a whisper as you added, “And Satoru’s the father.”

Rei stopped munching on her – you assume – bagel.

“Satoru? Gojo Satoru, your boss, bonafide casanova, the face on billboards and one of the most “eligible” bachelors in the country, billionaire Gojo Satoru?” she let out in one breath, the image of her flipping her hand out in the air in disbelief as clear as day. “Am I really hearing this right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

You sighed.

“We were drunk. I slept with him.”

“Did that bastard force himself on you?”

“No, gosh, never,” you defended with widened eyes, sitting back down on the toilet with the lid now closed. You couldn’t look at the tests even if you dared yourself to, the plastic bag concealed in the garbage or else you’d feel sick all over again. “I-I wanted it too...we just got carried away and the night was just...I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me and why I did that, but there’s no point in fretting about it because I’m carrying his baby now.”

“Well,” she started unsurely, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m keeping it. There’s no way I would even consider abortion.”

“But what about him?”

The back of your head throbbed in pain. Just thinking about his stupidly handsome face made you want to throw up once more. “I don’t really want to tell him, but he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father.”

“Will he even take responsibility for it?”

You swallowed nervously, nibbling on your thumbnails before snatching your hand away. Composure was something you didn’t struggle with; you were the more reliable one in the duo of you and Satoru, but you had a bad habit of picking on your nails whenever you were anxious. Had it not been for Satoru flicking your nails away from your mouth each time you dazed out a little bit, you would’ve never gotten rid of the habit, but it all came crashing back down on you in an instant.

A heavy knot formed in your belly.

“Most likely not, I know how he’s like. He loves his single life so much that he’d never allow to be tied down like this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tells me he doesn’t want it.”

“What an asshole!”

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t need him in my life,” you reinstated, finally feeling more confident the longer you talked to Rei. She was your instant hype machine in more ways than one; her presence itself gave you the reassurance you could handle everything your way. With hope blooming in your chest, you picked yourself of the toilet and wiped away your tears. You could do this – you can handle this. Not just for you, but this baby growing in you as well.

“In our life. I’m more than capable of taking care of the baby myself,” you told her, gaze hard and determined as your sunken reflection stared back at you in the mirror. Sighing, you shook your head and pictured Satoru’s face, already picturing a thousand ways this could go wrong. Only one way to find out.

“I have to go now. He needs to hear about this and then I’ll resign. Probably move back home – anywhere that’s away from him.”

“Doesn’t the baby deserve to meet their dad?”

“Their dad doesn’t even want to be one,” you muttered bitterly and threw your sweater back on, refusing to kick yourself around any harder. Now wasn’t the time to be illogical; you were now a mother and had to be responsible now more than ever. But first, you needed some well-deserved rest after endless agonizing of missing your period, along with the baby drop that until now, had shook you to your core. “I’ll call you back, Rei. I’m very tired.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Humming in response, you ended the call and crawled back to bed.

It wasn’t that you felt lonely, but you didn’t feel particularly belonging anywhere. You were far from home in a city that felt like the future, and each day you come home, it was mostly just a place to rest before you went back to work the next day. It was a dull, empty routine that you’d gotten used to, but never had it sunk deep into you that you did felt completely hollow.

But not anymore.

You were with your baby now, and as much as it scared you shitless to be a mother with zero preparation and knowledge, you were confident things were going to be okay.

Wrapping an arm around your belly, you had the best sleep you’d had in years.

You’d just have to worry about tomorrow. Hopefully, and you quite prayed harder than you ever did before, Satoru would let you go and keep things less complicated than it already was.

“No,” Satoru shook his head, his words dropping like a heavy boulder in the middle of nowhere. You stood in front of him shock still, hands wrung solid beneath your belly. Satoru merely shook his head, brushing back his gelled hair with a dry laugh. “No, what are you even thinking? You’re not resigning.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t really asking for permission, Sir.”

Truth be told, you expected this sort of reaction from him. It may be true that you and Satoru never got along in personal levels since he was too crass and you much stiff, but it couldn’t be denied you worked well together. You balanced each other’s flaws and brought out the best in one another. If someone had asked you years ago prior to you being employed by the heir if you could even tame the renowned free spirited man, you would’ve said probably not, but after sharing struggles and quite literally forcing one another to do better, you both reached highs neither expected to achieve.

It was an experience and a whole lot lessons learned working with him.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and you had to leave even if Satoru negated to it.

“We’ve been working together for years. Do you know how many people I fired and have resigned all because they’re not equipped for the job?” he plopped down atop his desk, loosening his tie out of frustration. The simple gesture made you swallow and look away – it felt impossible to look at him any other way than a boss now that you had his baby inside you. Thankfully, Satoru was mouthy as usual that he pulled you back from your train of thoughts as he gestured between the both of you. “You and I are perfectly compatible – I can’t let you go like that. I’m sorry, but I need you. There’s no one else I can work with this functionally. No one else is as willing to tolerate my bullshit except you and...I need you to stay.”

You clenched your teeth at the desperation in his voice.

Satoru admitting he needed people was one thing. But him asking others to stay? It may have just been for your value as the only person who had put up with him in both his best and worst times that made him feel that way, but you had to keep your foot down on the ground.

You wouldn’t let him sway you like this.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed all your energy to spring forth. “Sir...I’m more than thankful for all the opportunities, it truly was a pleasure working with you but—”

“Is this because we slept together?” he cut you off, your shoulders tensing. Upon your silence, Satoru heaved himself away from the desk and took cautious step towards you, stopping a foot away when you stepped back defensively.

You almost wished you didn’t know him so well. His eyes shone with a flicker of hurt before he masked it just as quick as it had came – for Gojo Satoru was a master of many things, and a great actor was one of them. Cautious, you had to be cautious, and you clenched your fists behind your pencil skirt as you tore your gaze away from his pleading ones. “It is, isn’t it?” he affirmed with a clear of his throat, looking just as lost as you did. Satoru stuttered for a minute before he eventually composed himself, but even then, he didn’t sound half as sure as he wanted to be.

“Listen, whatever happened that night, we can forget about it if you want. We’re both adults and professionals – we can put this aside us and just go back to normal. You don’t have feelings for me, right? So then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Satoru...it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, aggravated. Satoru began to round his desk and pulling out little white envelopes, stacking them before you in a haste. “Do you want a pay raise? A new car so you could get to work easily? O-or perhaps a bigger house where you can work more comfortably, somewhere nearer to the office? All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give you what you want. There’s no need for you to resign, this company has given you everything and we’ve got so much offer just as you could still be great—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Satoru’s slender fingers halted around the pen hovering over a cheque slip. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant,” you exhaled, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from quivering. A quick sweep from your face to gather sincerity trailed down to your belly, staring at you hard enough as if he had the ability to look through your soul. “And you’re the father.”

“Is that true? Is...is it really mine?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I’m not telling you this because I expect that you’ll be responsible for it. No offense, sir, but I’d really rather raise the baby alone. Plus, I understand that you’ll never settle down or suddenly abandon your old ways just to—”

“Stop right there,” he raised a palm, “You mean to tell me you’re resigning because you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility for it? For you?”

The hurt in his voice and expressions were evident, lip curled in disgust; not for you, but rather of himself. Satoru was the type of man that couldn’t be withered down even with the harshest of rumours; you’d never seen him be affected before by tabloids and nasty ex-girlfriends who only slept with him for money or fame, only to talk smack about him afterwards. But now, he was crumbling before you, and you didn’t know quite what to say or feel over the vulnerability present in his cerulean eyes. It almost pained you know that you caused this – for the comforting, blue sky to be tainted with a thunderstorm that hinted of anger, of disappointment, of betrayal.

But could he blame you for not thinking the best of him?

“I’ve worked with you for years, sir, I know you.”

“Clearly not well enough,” he chuckled sarcastically, “Admittedly, I’m surprised, but not upset. The only thing that I’m upset about is that you actually believed it would be better to raise the baby – our baby – alone like I don’t even have a right to be in their life. Sure, it was an accident, but we made that. That’s our child and I’m going to take care of you and be a great father, even if you don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the first time you said something stupid. That’s our baby. We’re a family now,” Satoru’s hesitance had vanished into thin air as he was on you the next instant, hands shaky before they landed on your shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting gesture; a reassuring one, yet you couldn’t help but flinch and falter under his gaze. As if getting the message, he quickly retracted his hands and shoved them deep inside his pockets with a sigh. “You don’t need to resign or worry about anything else. I promise I’ll give you both the life you deserve, just...just please don’t go. Now that I know we have a baby, there’s just no way I can let go of this and pretend I never heard of this at all.”

You swallowed, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skirt.

Out of all the different scenarios you stayed up late at night to turning your head in one by one, none of them included this. Undeniably, he was an asshole to most, but maybe he was right.

He hadn’t done anything wrong to you and he was still the father of your baby; he deserved a chance. Satoru had the right to be the father he was willing to be. You could already tell this might completely turn into one big mess, but his eyes were so hopeful, his smile so nervous yet expectant that you couldn’t help but say –

“Okay,” you relented.

His reaction was instantaneous. Satoru beamed and lounged at you, arms wide open for an embrace before realizing at the last second you could stab him with a pen and not regret it. One warning glare sent his way and he was retracing his arm behind his head, pretending to stretch with an off-tune whistle.

The sudden switch between pained and enthusiastic gave you whiplash, but you really shouldn’t be surprised. This was Gojo Satoru in the first place – he was as unpredictable as nothing was permanent and lasting to him.

It could be both a blessing and a curse.

For the sake of your baby, you genuinely hoped it was the former.

Not wanting him to get too ahead of himself since you still didn’t trust him enough, you raised a finger to poke him in the chest. Right now, you were no longer his secretary that openly despised him but added six sugar cubes in his coffee just as he liked anyway, but rather a woman who shared this mess with him, and as the mother of his child. You had to be strong. Being with Satoru felt like playing with fire, and you had far too much at stake – both of you did – but you weren’t privileged and fortunate like Satoru. One bad thing thrown his way could be brushed off, but for you? Everything you worked hard for could disappear just like that.

If you really chose now to play with fire, you had to be careful not to be the gasoline that ignited things to burn down into ashes.

“Satoru,” you stressed with your lips pressed into a thin line, “The only thing I expect from you is to be is a good father to our child. I know that it would be difficult for you to be a new person in a day and that your old habits won’t die right away, so please do what you can to be a good parent, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your life as well.”

His smile slowly vanished.

“Is that how low you really think of me?” he echoed rather sadly, “That I would still sleep around knowing I’ve got a family now?”

“We’re not a family, Sir. I have no intentions of marrying you nor would I ever want it. I’m just staying for the baby.”

“Fine. For the baby, let’s both do our best,” he crossed his arms on his chest, pumping out the hard muscles from how tight his shirt was. You were stuck between wanting to slap him or be closer to him; the hormones too much of a mess that you had to grip your thigh for restraint. “But tomorrow, you’re moving in with me. I’m going to take care of you from now on – I’ll get you whatever you need so whatever it is, just tell me. My credit card is yours to use as well.”

Move in with him? You wanted to laugh. That was the last thing you would want to happen.

“Sir, it’s fine, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I want to take care of you both,” he reiterated, growing slightly annoyed from your rigidness. You professed that you were being difficult right now, but it was much better than being easy around someone like him.

“We don’t have to be friends or lovers, alright? I know you don’t see me that way and I’m probably repulsive in your eyes – which is understandable since you always clean my mess up for me – but as a father, at least, let me do my job. There doesn’t have to be anything between us other than a mutual want to be good parents. Is that alright with you?”

You mulled the thought over in your head. So he was capable of being sensible sometimes, and after a few moments of silence, you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still suspicious and your guard was most definitely still up, but he was right. You both had a mutual want to be good parents and that was the most important thing right now. Everything else that complicated matters would be handled afterwards.

“I’m okay with that, but I would have to set down lots of boundaries if I’m living with you.”

“So you’ll really stay with me then?” You regretted nodding in response because Satoru was now fishing his phone out, a goofy smile on his face.

He took the news...surprisingly well, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Perfect! I’ll have your room prepared!” You tried to grab his arm to stop him from going overboard; knowing full well Satoru always had rushes in which he impulsively overdoes things. He might turn your room into some sort of grand suite that you wouldn’t really like, but he was far too excited and lost in his own thoughts that your words went from one ear and out the other. “Fuck,” he laughed to himself, “I’m going to be a dad.”

Whether it was relief or anxiety that bubbled through you, you had no idea.

It was definitely anxiety.

Satoru felt like a hyper child to be around, and as much as you were grateful that he was happy about this, you also wished he would calm down. You didn’t even have enough chance to settle in before he’s shoving you inside room by room, announcing that what was his was also yours and he would have a baby room set up next week.

You followed him around like a puppy as he marched into the kitchen, mumbling incoherently to himself about baby proofing furniture.

“Sir,” you called out, “Sir, listen to me. We need to talk about boundaries.”

Satoru blinked owlishly at your tired eyes, sheepishly smiling at you. It must’ve dawned on him that his speed tour of his penthouse felt a lot more overwhelming than welcoming, and he sat you down on the island stools before drumming his fingers impatiently on the cool marble. “Sorry, you were saying? I kind of got carried away.”

Carried away was far an understatement.

“I said, we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” he paused with a furrow in his brow. “Also can you just call me Satoru? We’re going to be parents anyway and it’s awkward if you keep uh, calling me Sir.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to argue with him right now. You had to keep intact with him while you still had his full attention. Taking out a little notepad you prepared the night before, you slid it over Satoru who tilted his head to the side rather cutely to read it. “So here are my boundaries. One, I don’t want this pregnancy to be announced in the media unless I’m ready. I understand that we can’t keep this a secret forever but I need time to process this. Two, just because we’re living in the same roof together doesn’t mean that I get to go anywhere and everywhere with you. I’m going to work by myself—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no,” he repeated more firmly this time. “You’re pregnant and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times. I’m driving you to work.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re my secretary. People see us together all the time.”

“But you never drove me to work! I live far from the office and I most definitely don’t drive an Audi.”

“Things change, that’s your life now,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, stealing the pen you twirled in your hands. The sudden contact sent jolts of electricity from your knuckles, one that had you recanting your hands back to yourself. Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he crosses out the second rule, “Sorry not sorry but I don’t want to let you go places like that. Fine by me if you don’t want me to drive you, but at least have one of the chauffeurs take you somewhere if you really don’t wanna be seen with me.”

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth. Compromise, compromise, meet in the middle – you repeated to yourself to keep your sanity. “Rule number three: I don’t want you changing your attitude around me. We may have a baby on the way, but you’re still my boss and I want to keep our relationship professional.”

“You’re saying I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?”

You flicked his forehead, effectively erasing the teasing grin he wore. “That’s not going to happen,” you interjected irritably, although your heart skip a beat. That was a massive red flag already; you could never be too comfortable with him. For Satoru, his little comments here and there may come naturally and probably meant nothing to him, but there was a chance you could receive it with different interpretations. Shaking your head at him, you ignored his grumblings on how ‘mean’ you were. “We’re never going to be a couple. We’re just raising a child together. I don’t want you acting weird or too comfortable with me.”

Satoru scratched the side of his head as he mulled about it, “Are we allowed to be friends, at least? I understand the professional part, but I can’t imagine the both of us getting along for nine months and more when we act like boss and employee even alone at home,” before you could say anything, Satoru raised his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything weird to you. No offense, but you’re not really my type, so same as you, I view you platonically.”

Right. The heart surely was stupid and confusing.

You didn’t want him getting any ideas that this could lead to something more, but at the same time, it hurt a little to know you weren’t his type.

Hiding that pang of hurt behind a tight lipped smile, you forced yourself to agree with him. “I view you professionally, Sir.”

“Satoru.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. “Rule number four: don’t bring home any of your fuck buddies or flavour of the night. I really don’t care if you sleep around, but respect my privacy and my standing as the mother of your childIf you’re really desperate to get your dick wet, go fuck them somewhere else.”

“You’ve never been this vulgar with me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Despite countless of times that he tried being friendly with you to ease your stiffness in the office, you always shot him down.

You came to the city to work and provide for your family, not to be friends with your annoyingly hot boss who enjoyed his life way too much. Unlike him, you were more work than play, and eventually Satoru respected the fact you would never speak or treat him casually.

Until now.

“Try being in my shoes and see if you’d still have the patience of a saint,” you mumbled under your breath, sighing when Satoru’s smile got more awkward. “Listen, Satoru, I don’t mean to be difficult, okay? It’s just...this is a lot. This isn’t just us about anymore – we’re going to be parents and that’s a huge responsibility. It’s not only our lives changing here, a child will be relying on us in the future and I simply want to be a good mother, but I also don’t trust you very well to be comfortable enough to act like we’re suddenly friends.”

“I understand that.”

“Good.”

“Do you have rule number five?”

“No, not really, but I can add more as we go.”

“I have a rule number five,” he piped in, flipping the notepad his way as he scribbled something down. “And it’s that if you need help – and I mean with anything – you would let me help you. I’ve worked with you for a long time and I’m not dumb enough to not notice you like to do things by yourself. Like you said, things are different now, and especially with this pregnancy, you’re not alone in this. You need to let me take over the wheel sometimes. I can’t be just a passenger in the car – you and I are both in this together.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s easy,” he chirped, and there was that uncomfortable knot in your chest again. However, it didn’t sink in too deep because Satoru was blatantly staring at your belly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So do we have a name for them already?”

“Satoru, I’ve only been a few weeks pregnant, I don’t—”

Conflicting his previous statement that he’d keep his hands to himself, Satoru suddenly dropped to his knees. You watched with wide eyes, too flabbergasted to move as he places his ear on your belly.

“Hi there, little one,” he spoke in a soft tone, large hands caressing the tiny bump beginning to form. You couldn’t move; hell, you could barely breathe from how comforting his touch seemed in contrast to your mind ringing warning bells above. His voice quickly pulled you back to reality as he flattened his palm, white lashes fluttering against the cotton of your shirt. “I’m your daddy; I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy promises to take good care of you and make you the happiest kid ever, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

“D-don’t spoil them too much, Satoru.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that small moment he had, he straightened up and trudged over the dining table that was far too big for a man who lived alone. In that moment, an image flashed in your mind – that someday that table would no longer look empty as you and your child shared meals with him. You could already imagine how heavenly the sun would shine on the glass windows behind it, the flowers gathered in the middle of the table blooming to life.

Out of nowhere, it struck you.

Could it be that this was why he loved this baby so much after only knowing about it for a few days? Could it be that Satoru really was alone?

“Okay, we should probably have a welcoming dinner! The chefs left me something tonight. I forgot what it’s called but I think you’ll like it. Grab some wine on the cellar for me?”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, right! My bad,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out ceramics and a cold pitcher, “Just water for mommy then,” Satoru said absentmindedly, completely oblivious to how your mind short-circuited a few feet away from him. He went about his way ignorant to it all and gently tugged you to sit with him, eagerly digging into the heated meals as you realized both of you hadn’t eaten.

For a guy who talked a lot, dinner with him was surprisingly quiet. Other than the occasional clinking of utensils against the plate, you enjoyed the silence with him.

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible since Satoru made it his daily business to always fill in the gaps. Peace and comfort stretched before you the whole time, however, that for a moment, just a short moment, you found yourself letting your guard down. Even when you both caught each other’s in the middle of a bite, you found no tension or awkwardness in it. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being beside each other for years now that this should feel natural, or maybe it was because you both mutually agreed on wanting the best for your baby. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to overcomplicate it right now.

“You know, I’m really excited about this. I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a father,” he mused through a bite, swirling his red wine through his glass. Satoru gazed at his reflection almost dreamily, seemingly too deep in thought that he felt far from reach.

Or maybe you were the one who was detached, the one who kept pushing him away, because you could offer him nothing but a lame nod. “I’m glad to hear that...”

“What about you? You don’t look too happy.”

Your eyes widened at his worry. “No, I-I’m happy, of course. It’s just...it’s unplanned, and I’ve had my whole life planned out that I’m not really sure how this will all fall into place together.”

“Hey,” he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing warmth back into your skin that you hadn’t noticed turned cold from the nerves. Unlike his usual self with eyes brimming with glee, you could only see tenderness in him now, some sort of silent vow through a private smile shared only between the two of you in that moment in the solace of his home. Your home. “I promise I’ll be there for you and the baby every step of the way. I know that I haven’t had the best reputation and I have zero idea on parenting, but you’re not alone in this. You can trust me on this one, just like how we always trusted each other during work. Being a parent and running a business are both responsibilities right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well then you already know we work well together. We’re great partners!” he cheered, patting your shoulder way too bro-like. You resisted the urge to cringe. “We’ll be great parents, Y/N. I’m sure of that.”

Unsure of what else to do, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, you would be great parents as long as both of you never gave up. The thought of eating meals with him again with another addition to the table made you smile, and you hadn’t noticed you were spacing out, thumb running over his knuckles that were smooth for a man who never knew a day of hard labour. It wasn’t until you felt something prodding at you metaphorically, and you chuckled nervously as you saw Satoru smiling mysteriously at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “I’ve just never seen you this close before; not so much that I paid attention anyway. But this is nice – having you here, I mean. It gets lonely here sometimes.”

“Don’t you bring your girlfriends around?”

“I never make them stay,” was all he said, and just like that, whatever thread that was beginning to form snapped. Satoru released his hold on you and gestured to your plate, carrying the dishes in his hand before leaving you alone on the table. Like always – a whiplash. “I’ll clean up, you can rest in your room now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Do you even know how to do them?”

“Yeah, my mother forced me to wash dishes because she didn’t want me to rely on the house help too much,” he informed, the new information shocking you right to the core as he put on dishwashing gloves and started scrubbing. From this angle, he sure looked damn nice and domestic in just a white shirt, hair ruffled down to bangs. “I’ll be right there with you,” Satoru announces casually, spinning on his heel with red cheeks once he realized what he said. “For just a goodnight, I mean! We’re not sharing rooms!”

“Yeah, no,” you coughed out, “We’re definitely not.”

It felt…surreal, to wake up in a room much grandiose than yours yet felt like home even for the first night. Satoru handled your moving in rather happily; you found him singing to himself this morning as he brewed his own coffee before realizing you were right behind him, sleepy as you lazily made waffles for the both of you. Everything flowed nicely and normally, like this had always been a normal thing that for a moment, you questioned once more what would happen next.

You were now getting ready for work, hands tugging at his tie because he was such a man-child who couldn’t even properly knot his own tie. His suit was custom tailored and he looked effortlessly gorgeous – beauty ripped straight from magazines he was constantly a front page of, but his tie was skewered and loose that it irritated you.

“You’re such a mess without me.”

Satoru bent down to wiggle his brows at you, thought you didn’t notice because he wouldn’t stay still for you to fix his tie fast enough. “Isn’t this sweet; you fixing my tie for me as we both get ready for work?” he teased, “We’re like a married couple already.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Then how can I give you more babies?” picking up the newspaper on the coffee table beside you, you rolled it and started whacking him, a string of profanities colorfully painting his otherwise monochrome and sleek walls. Satoru’s laughter boomed all over the room even as he wiggled away from you, clutching his bicep that had been the victim of your abuse. “Ow, ow, I was joking! Jeez, woman, you are strong. Fight men a lot like this?”

“I work with you. My fighting instincts are always activated.”

His laugh really was annoying. But it did help ease your nerves – though you’d never tell him that – as you sat beside him in his car, the expensive leather seats no longer strange to you. It would’ve felt like any other day where you accompanied him somewhere, except the reason was different now, and it came crashing down on you of your current situation that things were undeniably different from now on.

You immediately stepped away from him the moment you got out of the car, clutching your clipboard to your tummy when Satoru bumped his shoulder with yours. “Come closer, it’s fine. No one will suspect a thing,” he points to the crowded building with people bumping and walking past each other, everyone too occupied in their own heads to even notice you.

It wasn’t much, but hearing his voice and reassurances relaxed you, even for just a little bit. Maybe your first day at work after the baby news wouldn’t be so bad, after all, but it seemed you had spoken too early.

Satoru heavily insisted that you worked inside his office from now on.

Your desk was located right outside his office, the phone line always within reach in case you needed to pass calls to him or if he needed you to come. Satoru preferred the privacy of his own space – or so he said; he actually just didn’t want you to witness him slacking around and experience your wrath – but now he was dragging you inside his office, pushing your shoulders down until you were ‘settled in.’

You didn’t even want to ask where he got a new desk from, or why it had to be right across from him. His desk remained elevated on a few levels, the welcoming lobby of the room filled with couches and stacks of coffee with a rich amount of sugar cubes.

Safe to say, most of the morning was spent (or rather, wasted) on you telling Satoru off. The man was too persistent, coming in on the office at random times of the hour with either snacks or heaps of biscuits on his arms. He always greeted you with a wide grin on his face, only to be kicked out of his own office because you had his hellish schedule and events to deal with. That was around three hours ago when you’d asked him to shut up and go bother someone else. You were halfway around finishing your workload for today when the door swung open, a tuft of white hair and mischievous eyes peeking through.

“Hey! Just checking in on mommy—”

“Satoru!”

“What? It’s just you and I,” he defended with a shrug, welcoming himself inside. Surprisingly, he was empty handed, though the pout on his lips told you it was against his will. “Seriously though, do you need anything? Do you want snacks? Tea? Do you need help going to the bathroom? You haven’t moved in your desk for an hour now.”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant, not disabled,” you ignored him for a while, resuming to working back on his schedule for the month. There were a bunch of e-mails you still had to respond to, which normally wouldn’t be such a daunting task if Satoru wasn’t shifting his weight from one foot to another, the sounds of his shoes hitting the tiles in an annoying click-clack rhythm getting to you. “Will you stop fidgeting! Your anxiety gives me anxiety, stop that!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I just feel like there’s something I should be doing.”

“Shutting up and letting me work in peace would be great, thank you.”

“You really don’t need anything?” Sending him a warning glare, Satoru sucked in his cheeks and ran back to his desk where he hid behind the safety of his large monitor. “Nope, yeah, I got the message: leave you alone. Good luck with that then, I’ll need those archives to pull up for our meeting with the directors later at five.”

Muttering a sarcastic finally under your breath, you resumed working.

The routine was per usual – answer the calls professionally with a welcoming and sweet voice, a pen always in one hand to jot down notes in reminders, adjust his schedules, work out his plans, go to him whenever he needed to sign something before responding back to e-mails. You were focused as you always were, but someone wasn’t, and it was getting harder and harder to keep being placated.

It didn’t help that he made no effort to hide the fact he was slacking off, the tip-taps of him randomly pressing keys on the keyboard similar to a fork dragging down a plate.

“I can feel you burning holes at the back of my head,” you twittered, “What do you need?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just realizing how beautiful you are right now.”

You paused. Unable to deny your curiosity over how serious he sounded, you spun around in your swivel chair. Satoru had his chin on his hands as he stared right back at you, his face devoid of expression that you couldn’t pick up on a single clue. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course the bastard would be teasing you, his loud chuckles a painful reminder of that. It was best to ignore him, so you went back to reading e-mails and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. “We’re at work. Please stop distracting me; I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like a creep.”

“Sorry, babe, I’ll try to be less distracting next time, though I can’t control my charisma, you know!”

You jotted your thumb to your desk outside, “I can walk back to my desk where you can’t see me. That’d be a great for both of us.”

“Stay right there, I was joking!”

“Do you promise to be quiet and actually do your job if I stay?”

“With you disciplining and ordering me around like that, why not?” Mouth open for another heated retort, Satoru stopped you before you could say anything, his aura more serious this time. He was always like this; fooling around and maturing the next second, only for the cycle to repeat and test your patience. “I’m just teasing you, Y/N, I’ll shut up now. You’re free to end work as soon as you’re tired though; the driver is waiting in the parking lot whenever you want to go home.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Home. It felt weird to say that, but also…natural.

“You’ll stay with me at work today?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you responded with a one-shoulder shrug. That seemed to be enough for him, however, and it wasn’t long before Satoru found the oh so rare and fleeting motivation to work hard.

Once he was settled, sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms and brows furrowed as he centered all his attention on the pile of paperwork before him, there was no stopping him.

Roles reversed and positions switched, you were now the one unable to take your eyes off him.

In this light, in this moment, Gojo Satoru had never looked more beautiful. He was much the same as you in the manner you never really noticed each other this way before; not romantically, but even just person to person. In your eyes, he was nothing but your irritating boss whose boisterous self always crowded over your peace, and in his eyes, you were nothing but his secretary who he knew always silently hoped would leave you alone.

But things were different now. You were different now.

Boundaries there may be, you couldn’t help that fluttering forming in your stomach. Contentment, happiness, relief, nervousness – all of them jumbled into one big mess. Out of them all, however, there was most definitely adoration, either out of respect for his unexpected kindness, or simply because it felt nice to feel for once.

Turning away from him until your back was the only thing he could see, you hid your smile as you secretly held your belly.

You’d never been reckless before, but what was to be a good story when there wasn’t a mistake or two made?

3K notes · View notes

twodimecastle · 3 years

Text

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

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writersmilex · 3 years

Text

Phobos : Head-canons

(Art by dokur_o on twitter)

- Ah, your greatest foe; Phobos. You don't wanna hear a single thing of he has to say.

- You're another being of power, both in reign and in skills. however you're not an employer You enforce your zero bullshit policy with an iron first.

- And yet, this cyclops looking bastard who dares to calm himself a god, wants an alliance with you. The moment you heard this from one of your assistant, you went into a irritated rant about Director Phobos. "who does he think he is?!" You shout, and your worker cower as you rage on.

- On a relationship level you want nothing to do with him (for now). But this alliance sounds promising. A good first step to destroy the Status Quo. Your spies informed you that Phobos owns a powerful army, you could use that very well...

- You accepted and an alliance formed, this news shocked the S.Q. Your enemies.

- Director Phobos requested a meeting with you, and during that meeting; he was being insufferable. You're not on one line with this man, and this alliance will fall soon enough, you hoped at least.

- The Director believes you fear him. But much to his dismay, you don't fear him. But he irritates you a lot. He makes a grand entrance into your office. But you don't look impressed, staring at him with disinterest.

- You got so fed up with his 'holier than thou' bull that you slam your hands on your desk, and demand he leaves your office. He stares at you for a moment, and then laughs. Then he starts to taunt you, bad move.

- He didn't budge once you threatened again and ordered him to begone, so you used your powers to lunch him out of the large office window. Back to where he came from.

- Phobos wasn't mad about that incident by the way, it's just what he hoped for as he was testing your patience that day.

Acquaintance____

- More meetings, more suffering on your side. You're sitting there at your desk, rubbing your temples as you try to drown out Phobos' blabbering. His delusions of grandeur are a leading cause to your headaches these days.

- Later you complain to Auditor on the phone about Phobos. "Why did you form a pact with him then?" Auditor questions in an irritated tone. " it was a pure business move." You defend your own choices.

- the meetings go like this : Phobos is walking around the office, having an evil monologue. You're just sitting there, wondering what to have for dinner tonight.

- "(Y/N) PAY ATTENTION!!" He yells, and resumes his rambling.

- Phobos finds you useful on many levels. Your troops, your influence and similar plans to take over Nevada. And most likely the rest of the world.

- "i'll finally get the recognition i deserve." He says dramatically. " whatever you say, Director." You respond, leaning on the desk with your head in your hand.

- And he has looked forward to this partnership. And so far he's not complaining. He has known about you before actually meeting you, and your impatience and direct attitude was not unknown to him.

- Phobos only got more intrigued really. You an individual that he has taken interest in. He's curious about you, and wants to know more about you.

- However you're still very mean and be believes you hate him. And he is going to change that soon. Right now he just takes joy in the verbal fights he has with you.

- "You incompetent fool. At least pretend to listen for once." he sneers playfully, just to get on your nerves. Your eye twitches, "Listen here you cyclops brat! I rule an entire empire on my own. You've got nothing on me!" you growl.

Platonic____

- You admit, Phobos has grown on you a bit over these past few months. He has become a bit more tolerable... Or maybe you have gotten used to it.

- Don't think that your change in attitude didn't go unnoticed. Of course he noticed! And he used to to his advantage to get closer to you. It was like a little game to him. Or taming a feral animal.

- The two of you being professional leaders. You don't refer to each other as friends. close allies is what you call him towards the workers below you. But overall you're friends...

- You the only person who can talk back to Phobos without consequences. Most people who appose him die right after. But when you have your own input on the flaws of his ideas, he is willing to consider it.

- Aside from work, the two of you start to spend a lot of time together in your free time. Most common activity is going to either his or your place and drink tea .

- Phobos rarely opens up about anything he feels. And if he does it's a very small and vague snippet of his personal life.

- And even he can't handle the workload sometimes. If you happen to catch him in those moments, you'll seen him in his office. His head resting over his crossed arms on his desk, attempting to take a nap. The best thing you can do is wake him and take him on a walk or something, get some fresh air.

- From these caring gestures, Phobos has figured that you care about him. And that makes a pleasant feeling blossom in his chest. What ever this feeling may be, he wants to feel it more.

- Phobos talks very fondly about you to his workers, and most workers can already tell that their Director has a crush on this other leader he's allied with.

- Thinking of Phobos makes your chest feel warm, you haven't felt this way in a long time. You know what your felt, you just can't believe it. A figure you once hated with a strong passion, now holds your admiration completely. The heart wants what it wants...

Romantic__pining____

- Phobos' respect for you has grown a lot over time. He wished to please you, and you already please him with your presence alone.

- "my Deity." Is how he refers to you. A very strange nickname to have, that's something you'd call a lover. And you're not his lover as far as you can tell.

- Not to mention how he does everything and anything to defend your honour. If he catches anyone speaking ill of you, that person disappears under mysterious circumstances.

- He made a not so subtle move by asking you to a fancy dinner. You agreed, thinking it was a business meeting or something. You dress up fancy and meet at his personal quarters, which looks like a lavish penthouse. He dressed up for the occasion as well; an expensive looking tuxedo, but his velvet cape was still present. You complimented him and he blushed, and took a moment to regain composure.

- After that dinner Phobos feels very accomplished and giddy. However his favourite moment that he had with you is when you smiled at him for the first time. That's the moment when he fell madly in love with you.

- And the following days, He has gotten a lot more flirty with you. not subtle flirting no... It's careful constructed hints in daily conversations. Something what he often does is compliment the way you look when meeting with you.

- He misses you whenever you're not near him. Sends you many email, talking about random things he didn't get to talk about while you were with him.

- He takes you out on many events, most are private. Just the two of you so he can have all of your attention.

- You always to manage to lift his mood. His workers are being annoying and stupid again... He's annoyed as well. But once you enter the room or he gets a message from you or your workers. He can't help but grin.

- The feelings you have for him have become maddening! You only get more conflicted by the second. What to do... You partly still believe he's playing with you, that it's all not real.

Romantic__relationship____

- This self-proclaimed god wasted little to no time courting you. Once his feeling to you are as clear as crystal to him. And he couldn't imagine his life without you anymore.

- it was a private moment in his office space. He is standing Infront of you, one hand neatly behind his back and the other pulling nervously as his collar. You could ready tell that either what he is going to tell you was important or personal to him. You granted him your full attention.

- He asked you in a very professional way. As in "Would you like to join forces on a individual and emotional level?" He asked.

- You didn't understand what he meant at first because it was so vague. You had no idea how that confused stare of yours was killing him inside.

- "will-will you accept to be my significant other?" He asks again, a little more subtle this time. He holds his hand out to you, for you to take.

- Phobos can't remember ever being so nervous than he is now. Luckily you can't detect his uneasiness as quickly since his features are obscured. He feels very much relieved at you smile at him and take his hand. Phobos takes it a step further and slowly took you in a gentle embrace. And the moment he held you in his arms, he felt complete.

- Neither his or your worker were all that surprised when your relationship became official. Most thought that it only was a matter of time, with how the two of you were acting towards each other. Some workers have lost a bet even.

- Phobos loves to cuddle with you. While cuddling he loves to day dream about ruling the world together with you. The two of you would be unstoppable! Gods among mortals.

- He does more nuzzling than kissing. Not that you mind, it's endearing either way. He gets really fluster when you kiss him, and it's really funny to see him attempt to regain composure.

- The two of you picked up a new hobby; dancing! One of his favourite moments in his life, slow-dancing with you on a Friday night. It makes him feel even more mighty, nobody can take this away from him now. _____________________________________ This took me forever... thanks for reading. - Smilex.

#madcom phobos #madness combat x reader #madness combat reader insert #madness combat headcanons #x reader #reader insert #head-canons #madcom phobos x reader

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biisexualemma · 3 years

Text

tired pt.2. bucky barnes

word count: 2.3k

warnings: violence, mentions of blood

requested: n/a

plot: you get injured during the mission to locate karli

a/n: so this is sort of a part 2 to the winter soldier imagine i wrote! i'm gonna be posting a part 3 soon too, i'm pretty much following each episode lol, this is obviously episode 4, and then next part with follow episode 5! hope you enjoy! i am very much enjoying writing for bucky atm! let me know what you think anyway! (sorry if there are any minor mistakes i cannot read this over again i am tired lol)

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 masterlist

you knew this was a bad idea. any idea that involved trusting zemo was bad. which you had reiterated to your team multiple times now, but here you still were, relying on zemo to get to karli. to top it all off, captain america and his nosey sidekick had found you guys, somehow, and invited themselves to tag along. too much toxic masculinity was floating around in the air when john walker tagged along anywhere, it was suffocating. made you wanna punch him whenever he opened his mouth and that arrogant, condescending tone came out. that, and he was resolved to shamelessly coming onto you whenever he spoke to you. you were sure he only did it so he could feel more in control of the situation. you tried not to let it get to you, but sometimes he was plain insufferable.

bucky already hated walker with every fibre of his being, and he definitely didn't take kindly to his flirting with you either. the only thing holding either of you back from decking walker was sam, and his level head. but you were constantly stealing subtle glances and touches with one another when you could without bringing too much attention to it. you had both decided it would only make things way more complicated during this mission if your relationship was out in the open. there were too many things that could go wrong, you definitely didn't want your relationship to be used against you. so only sam remained in the loop. everyone else was blind to your affection for the super soldier, and his for you.

the blonde haired fraud and his right-hand man, had somehow managed to make everything ten times worse again. you found yourself scouring the building, looking for karli, after mr-i-have-jurisdiction charged into the room where sam had been having a, somewhat productive, conversation with the girl. he barged in there, throwing around hollow threats, like karli would cave and come lightly after everything. he was ignorant and he was an idiot and you could've killed him for screwing up another mission.

you held your gun at arms length, kicking the door open in front of you, edging your way in, eyes scoping the room for any signs of movement. it was empty. you lowered your gun, making your way across the floor to the door leading to the next room. "east wing is clear so far, one last room to check and then i'll circle back to the stair--"

your words caught in your throat as a grunt left your mouth, feeling the blunt impact to the back of your head. you stumbled forwards, clumsily spinning around to see one of karli's super soldiers towering over you, an old pipe gripped in his hand. you quickly lifted your gun to shoot but the bullet hit the ceiling when he swung the pipe, knocking the weapon out of your hand.

you gritted your teeth, your head was throbbing where the pipe had made contact, and now you were weaponless. you ducked swiftly as he swung the pipe at you once again. you dived forwards, trying to catch him off guard and using your full force to tackle him. ordinarily, this would have knocked him off his feet and you would have used the upper hand to locate your gun and seize it before he could recover.

but this guy, unfortunately for you, was far from ordinary. he was significantly stronger than you were.

"all clear, y/n?" sam's voice echoed in your ear through the comms but you were far too distracted by your current predicament to answer him straight away.

"shit," you mumbled under your breath. the man had barely flinched, before switching it on you. before you could retreat, his arms grabbed your torso and you were halted, heaved off of your feet. "i need backup!" you shouted desperately into your comms, hoping one of them would turn up sooner rather than later. his grip was painfully strong as you tried to scramble out of his hold. but, with almost no strain on his behalf, he hurled you across the room, your body slamming into the brick wall and crumpling against the hard floor.

you let out a wheeze, you felt like the air had been knocked right out of you, and you definitely heard something crack. you clutched your side, wincing as you clumsily dodged the blows he threw at you, trying to clamber away from him. you had to pull yourself together, get up and get to your gun before this escalated any further.

you propped yourself up onto your arms, pushing yourself back and away from the super soldier towering over you. "sam, buck," your breathing was laboured as you tried to reach them again, after hearing no response from your initial plea for help. "east wing. i'm unarmed. super soldier with a pipe and a mean swing-- i need backup-- now."

you cringed, sharp pains rushing from your chest the further you dragged yourself away from the soldier. that was when you noticed the gash along his calf, blood soaking his pants. that was your ticket. you waited for him to swing again, dodging it only by a split second, but took your window and kicked as hard as you could at the open wound on his leg. he let out a loud groan, his leg collapsing under the shock of the pain.

you, however, scrambled as quick as you could, onto your feet and ran to the gun sitting on the floor behind him. before you got too far, your legs were swept out from under you as the soldier grabbed your ankle, your face slamming into the concrete floor as you fell. you let out a groan, followed by a soft whimper, blood now pooling from your nose. you desperately stretched out a hand for the gun that was just out of your reach. his grip tightened on your ankle, you felt yourself being hauled backwards before you lunged one last time for your weapon.

your hand clasped around the gun, twisting yourself onto your back, not hesitating to fire at the super-soldier attached to your limb. the bullet fired straight into his shoulder, he let out a shriek of pain, his grip lost on your ankle. you hurried as far away from him as you could on your hands and knees, your breathing shaky and uneven as the adrenaline coursed through you.

you sat still, legs brought up to your chest, your breathing heavy as you watched the super soldier grip his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. you held the gun up, directed at him in case he made any more movements. you were panting, your hand moving to your head, wincing as the throbbing pain started to return, and your comedown ensued.

"oh shit," you heard from the doorway. "shit," he muttered harshly, his footsteps drawing nearer to you. you were preoccupied, the pain was spreading quicker now that your heart rate was slowing down. you felt the sharpness in your ribs every time you took a breath in, ringing in your ears growing louder and the throbbing in your nose intensifying as blood dripped onto your shirt.

you flinched when his hand brushed up against yours, your unsteady hands still gripped tightly around your gun. "hey," he whispered, you only just about heard his soft voice echo over the ringing. you noticed the familiar metal hand grazing yours and your grip loosened, letting him remove the gun from your hand. your eyes trailed up to his comfortingly familiar, blue eyes. you let out a soft sigh of relief, cracking a weak smile.

"took your time," you mumbled, teasingly, trying to ease some of the tension you were feeling. you moved your hand to your mouth, blood transferring onto your fingertips from where it had trickled from your nose onto your lips. you let out a halfhearted, tired, chuckle, your face contorting as the pain in your chest intensified. you were relieved that it was over, and that he had been the one to find you. you let out a strained breath, "i'm gonna need one hell of a drink when this is all over."

bucky, however, was examining every inch of you, his eyes shifting all over you, frowning as he found more blood the more places he looked. he watched your hands shake as you touched your lips, the lump grew in his throat. he knew you were trying to make light of the situation, to ease his mind but he could tell you were hurting, a lot.

he moved his hand to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. his stomach lurched when your eyes met his again, the blood soaking your face was a sight he never wanted to have to see again after today. as impossible as that would be in this line of work. "let's get you fixed up, then we'll see about that drink, alright, doll?" his voice was soft, quiet when he spoke to you. you nodded, reassurance slowly washing over you with his fingers caressing your cheek. his touch was more comforting to you than he'd ever realise.

he dragged his eyes away from yours, over to the super soldier who was still squirming, his hand clamped over the wound in his shoulder. bucky glanced at you for a split second, his expression harder than before. you knitted your eyebrows delicately, noticing the shift in his temper. "wait here," he mumbled, his jaw twitching as he moved away from your side. you felt cold with the loss of contact.

bucky moved to tower over the super solider, his head tilting slightly, not hesitating for even a second as he raised his leg, quickly slamming the heel of his foot against his face. the solider dropped back onto the ground, now unconscious. "stay down," he mumbled under his breath.

"c'mon, we gotta' find sam and zemo first," he ignored your amused expression, helping you onto your feet.

you'd returned to the hotel room now you had zemo in your custody again. zemo was nursing his headache with a glass of whiskey, sam busying himself with something on his laptop, and bucky had pulled you into the bathroom to help clean you up.

"how ya' feelin', doll?" he quirked an eyebrow at you, positioning you so you were seated, while he hovered over you. he busied himself, soaking a cloth in warm water so he could tend to your wounds. you shrugged, lowering your gaze to where your hands sat in your lap, shaking less now you'd had that drink.

"i'll be fine," you muttered, unconcerned with your well being for now. your mind was swimming with thoughts on how you were going to handle the karli situation. no doubt, walker would be knocking around soon too, just to make things harder for you guys, and probably try and twist the story around to make it seem like karli getting away had nothing to do with him.

bucky wasn't convinced by your answer, but he didn't push you. instead, his hand moved to your chin, using his forefinger and thumb to tilt your head upwards. you saw his jaw clench before he started to wipe away the dried blood from your face. you flinched when he touched the bridge of your nose, recoiling from his touch. "ow, that kinda' hurt," you admitted.

"suck in your breath," he instructed, his jaw stiff as he spoke. "if i don't clean it up now it'll only get worse," you just nodded, doing as he said. you held your breath, biting the inside of your cheek as he cleaned up the rest of the blood (his spare hand moving to the back of your neck to stop you from pulling away). "all done," you let out your breath, your eyes were watery, a reflex from the sensitivity of your bruised nose. "y'good?"

you nodded, letting yourself fall forward, resting your forehead against his stomach, trying to disguise the range of emotions you were feeling. he let out a sigh, his hand still tucked around the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. "you don't have to keep up this act," he spoke after a while. exhausted, you let him hold you up, relaxing yourself against him. "it's just me."

you sniffled, pulling back to look up at him. he felt his chest tighten at the sight of your bruised face, stinging red eyes and pink cheeks. you weren't often vulnerable with anyone, but you were so worn out from everything going on, and bucky was looking at you in a way that made you feel so safe, you couldn't help but let go a little.

"i'm just tired, buck," your voice wavering. he moved both hands to either side of your face, pushing your hair out of the way. he cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing against your flushed skin. you relished in his touch, comforted by the warmth he was radiating, soothing you. "this missions been hard."

"i know, doll," he hummed, his gaze softening watching you relax against his palms, your eyelids drooping shut. he gulped. "let's get you clean, then you can get some rest."

you hummed softly. "thanks, buck," he took a step back, his hands leaving your face for a second. you hastily moved your hands to his, stopping him from moving further away from you. "no," your voice came out hushed. "just a bit longer," you pleaded, you weren't ready to let go of his comfort just yet.

bucky simply nodded, moving his hands back to either side of your face, letting your head fall against his stomach again. he raked his fingers through your hair soothingly, holding you for as long as you needed. he was just relieved you felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with him, it meant you felt just as much for him as he did for you.

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Disappearance II

Character: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,149

Warnings: None

Premise: In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Idk why I’ve characterized Albedo as a slob twice now. I guess I just think he’s the kind of person to become so engrossed in his research he just, never takes care of himself or his surroundings.

Also this was supposed to be two people but I procrastinated terribly so… here we are haha. Part three tomorrow.

Albedo

It was the third time this week that you had managed to spill his lab notes all over the floor, and frankly Albedo wasn’t sure if he could deal with it any longer.

“You’ve got a lot of papers strewn around,” you said, tone light and joking as you crouched to gather all the papers up.

“You’re the one that keeps bumping into things,” Albedo mumbled, crouching next to you to make sure that you put things back in order.

Seeing that you were putting things together haphazardly he snatched up the papers, frowning slightly as he went through the papers. Honestly, how could you mess up his system so much? As much as Albedo appreciated your interest in his work you were a Knight of Favonius, not a scientist, and as such your visits seemed to cause havoc more than anything else.

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You asked, exasperation creeping into your tone.

“No.”

“Are you sure? You seem, stressed. If you want I could pick up the papers on the tables and organize.”

“Don’t!”

“Albedo?” You leaned back slightly, as if surprised. For some reason that only made the alchemist more irritated.

“If you do that, you’ll just be creating more work for me. I’m very busy right now, I don’t have time to go back and fix your mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“It’s already enough that you keep spilling things all over the ground.”

“It’s not my fault that you leave your papers everywhere without even trying to keep them organized.”

“They are organized!”

“Well they certainly don’t look organized to me.”

“You just don’t understand. Besides, I’ve managed not to knock everything over.”

“You know, you’re insufferable when you get like this.”

“I’m not any different than usual.”

“I hope you don’t really think that,” you replied, tone clipped.

Standing up you turned towards the door. Though Albedo made a half-hearted call of your name you didn’t react, simply walking out of the room and slamming the door as hard as possible behind you.

Albedo didn’t even think of you the rest of the afternoon. Anger iced over his slight worry, replacing it with a burning sense of resentment. Your sudden departure stung, and, though it was admittedly childish, Albedo found himself determined not to worry about you.

Besides, you were simply an obstacle to his research at this point. Maybe it was better if you went off to cool your head somewhere, then he could finish up his work. That was what usually happened with other people anyways. Apprentices, clients, the occasional wandering alchemist; they all fluttered around him until he couldn’t stand it and then when they inevitably got fed up he’d finish his work. His relationship with you was still new, and though he couldn’t say that you were the same as all those people in his eyes, he really had no reason to think you would react in a different way.

The sun had gone down long before Albedo finally locked up for the night. It had taken him a good forty minutes to reorganize everything that had fallen, though admittedly most of that time was spent in angry silence. Now as Albedo walked down the streets, still busy with night activity, he wondered what might happen when he got home. He certainly wasn’t ready to apologize, even if his tone was a bit curt his words weren’t wrong; but he couldn’t exactly see you apologizing either. It was bound to be a tense evening. One Albedo was certainly not looking forward too.

All the lights were off in the apartment, something that struck Albedo as odd. Walking towards the kitchen he found a piece of paper crumpled up on the kitchen floor, though when he uncrumpled the paper he was met with eraser marks. Letting out a huff of impatience Albedo went to put some water on the stove. So this is how the evening was going to pass; you presumably at a friend’s house, Albedo in stony silence.

“How petty,” Albedo murmured.

He didn’t expect such a show of emotions from you, having come to the conclusion that you were quite the rational sort. Really, this was all too much. He had been in the right after all, even if he had been a bit cold about it. There was no reason to react in such a way. It was this mindset that carried Albedo through the rest of the evening and off to sleep. After all, it was better than the kernel of doubt that rested in the back of his head, that told him he was the one being callous.

You didn’t show up at the apartment or the lab the next day. Albedo buckled down to work, but by midday the irritation and anger that he’d been holding over were replaced by a deep sense of unease. Hurrying home after work he felt panic shoot through him at the sight of your home empty, nothing suggesting anyone had been there in the time he was at work.

It took all of Albedo’s willpower not to run out the door and go look for you. All the anger and irritation he had felt had been thrown out the window, replaced instead with an intense feeling of worry, and of the realization that his actions might bear actual consequences.

Tossing and turning in bed Albedo stared up at the empty ceiling. He had been certain he was in the right, even this morning. You were clumsy, you had been inconsiderate of his work, you were simply stubborn and petty. Now however he replayed your argument, your fight, over and over again. The more he did so the more he became aware of how harshly he’d acted; the more he wished you would simply appear in front of him so he could apologize. He wanted to go after you, wanted to let you know that he genuinely felt bad. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do so, to go after you. After all, what if you didn’t want to see him? What if he just made things worse? Once more turning in bed Albedo sighed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d see you again. Tomorrow he’d make things better.

There was no sight of you tomorrow either. Albedo stood in his lab in stunned silence, heart hammering in his chest as he contemplated what this could possibly mean. Was this it then? Had he messed up that badly?

Staring around him Albedo noticed all the papers scattered this way and that on the tables and the desks. Seized by a sudden urge he scooped them all up, carrying them over to where he kept his files. A part of him jeered that it was too little too late, but still the alchemist didn’t stop until everything was filed away properly. Turning around to look at his desk he collected the dirty mugs and discarded equipment, putting them in the sink before turning around to pick through the no longer needed papers that still lay sprawled around the room. He didn’t stop for lunch, nor did he go to start back up on the experiment he was currently working on. Instead he kept picking up and putting away and rearranging. It was almost a ritual of some sort, and though it brought little relief, at least it finally brought distraction.

Still that distraction was shattered the minute Albedo stepped outside. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, and the people of Mondstadt were still wandering around, enjoy the cool summer evening. Staring at the people around him, their eyes filled either with purpose or contentment, Albedo realized he couldn’t go home. He couldn’t face the empty apartment again. He thought that his anger would last longer, that he might go a week before feeling as if he burning from the inside out; but now he knew that that had been an arrogant, if somewhat funny, assumption. Turning away from the familiar path home he climbed up the steps of Mondstadt. He knew where he needed to go.

Walking up to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters Albedo was met with the sight of Eula, arms firmly crossed in front of her, faced even colder than usual. Hurrying over to your higher-up Albedo felt uncertainty bloom in his chest. Someone this seemed to bode ill.

“Eula?”

“Ah, the Head Alchemist. What do you wish to say to me?”

“Have you seen my partner?” Albedo paused, somewhat unwilling to reveal what had happened. “They haven’t been home for days, and I wondered if you knew where they might be staying.”

The look on Eula’s face was one of pure disbelief. “You, you don’t know what happened?” Her face shadowed over and she seemed to pull herself up. “If I were your partner, I would declare eternal vengeance for your idiocy. I don’t know what you’ve been doing Head Alchemist, but while you were off doing whatever it is you do, your partner was languishing underground.”

Albedo froze, unsure if he’d truly heard Eula right. The Knight tended to be quite flowery after all with her words. Perhaps this was just a metaphor he couldn’t understand.

“I see that it still hasn’t gotten through your head what happened.” Eula sighed, relaxing slightly. “I sent them off to monitor a few Fatui members, as it seems a group had made their way out of Dragonspine and into Windwail. While doing so they attempted to hide in a small crack in the mountains, but there was a steep drop after that onto the next shelf. Thankfully Amber had also been ordered to scout there, or else who knows how long it might have took to realize they were stuck. I just got the report from them, thankfully there was no lasting trauma.”

“W-where are they?”

“At home I presume. Aren’t you their partner?” Eula tilted her head. “Really, perhaps she should declare a need for vengeance.” And with that the Spindrift Knight walked into the Headquarters, leaving Albedo reeling on the step, heart thudding as if he’d just run a hundred miles.

Albedo practically fell down the steps of Mondstadt, so desperate was he to find you, to make sure you were okay. Eula had said that there was no lasting trauma, but what that meant Albedo was completely unsure of. Had you broken anything? Had you been deprived of oxygen? These thoughts catapulted through Albedo’s brain, constricting his lungs and plunging him into a roil of incoherent emotions.

The sight of you standing in front of his lab cause Albedo to stop in his tracks. For a moment the alchemist was overwhelmed by his emotions, switching between dizzying euphoria, terrible guilt, and unending worry. He took a step forward, then another, walking slowly down the stairs, as if in fear that you might disappear or turn away. However instead of turning away when he reached the end of the steps and made his way towards the fountain you let out a sort of shudder, running towards him and throwing your arms around his neck. Albedo wrapped his arms around you in turn, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the sudden proximity, the sudden feeling of once more being able to feel your skin against his. Letting his head drop onto your shoulder Albedo breathed in deeply, centering himself with your presence, grounding himself in the knowledge that the agony of the previous days was finally over.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“For what?” You whispered back.

“For not listening to you, for blaming you, for being cruel.”

“I’m also sorry.”

“Why? I was in the wrong.”

“Well, I just went off without telling you where I was going. I was going to write a note, but I was so angry I erased it.” You tightened your grasp around Albedo. “I wish I could’ve seen into the future. I never would have done something like that.”

“I don’t care about that,” Albedo ran small circles around the small of your back. “I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No. I’m sorry for not being there, for not being able to help you; for doing nothing while you…” he stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Pulling back for a moment you cupped Albedo’s face in your palms, studying his expression. Finally you bent over to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I forgive you,” you whispered, breath mingling with his.

Albedo leaned into to kiss you once more, finding that his emotions were blocking out any words he might have been able to say. Everything seemed so surreal, as if he’d been stuck in some awful nightmare that only now faded away. And yet this wasn’t a nightmare, this was reality; and Albedo would have to remember that.

For now though, he only wanted to wipe all the fear and conflict away.

#genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #albedo #genshin impact #genshin albedo #requested #scenarios #my writing #not proofread

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