#imagine the power i could hold if i had a computer that could run every major content mod for terraria

[9hikers]

my dream is getting a gaming PC that can handle the amount of mods i usually try to shove into games

[detectiveichijouji]

Case 11 - Beware of the new Amanogawa High student!!

[AO3 version]

It had been a while since the 02 group had gotten a call from Inspector Fujieda. Apparently their capers with Arsenemon had turned less frequent. But that one from that night they just had settled that they would stop him from gathering the pieces of the ‘forbidden Digimental’ and recover the stolen ones.

(Ok, this was more of a Daisuke-only obsession than anything…)

“WAIT THERE, ARSENEMON!!” XV-mon screamed, while trying to catch up with the phantom thief. Daisuke was on his back, holding on the digimon’s neck.

“Non non, I have to go now” Arsenemon smiled, and then with a snap of fingers and a cloud of smoke… he vanished, “Adieu, Chosen Children~”

The Smoke was dispersed and Daisuke looked around with a pair of binoculars. No signal about Arsenemon!! Dang it!!

“He escaped!!” Daisuke growled, “Ugh, we were THIS close this time!!”

“Daisuke--” XV-mon was about to say something, but then his stomach growled, “... I’m hungry…”

“Alright…” Daisuke frowned, and with a sigh he said “Let’s go back and eat dinner…”

Ken spent the entire night thinking about the time he and the group discovered that the mysterious broken gems stolen by Arsenemon were… pieces of a Digimental. But not a regular Digimental, and yes a forbidden one.

He turned the computer on and started checking his old Kaiser-era tools, in order to check if he ever had that information before. He checked every archive and transcription of old digimoji materials like books, scrolls, walls, etc…

… Enough to fall asleep on the keyboard until morning.

One of the pages had the results of the time he had begun studying the Digimentals in order to counter Daisuke and the others’ powers, but he had given up on securing those objects before his former rivals.

“Ken-chan?”

In the morning, the sunlight hit the balcony’s glass and he was still there, sleeping on the keyboard. Wormmon Armor-evolved into Pucchiemon and went to wake Ken up.

“Ken-chan?” Pucchiemon gently shook Ken by the shoulder, “Wake up, you will get late for school…!”

“Uh… W-what!?” Ken opened his eyes, “Pucchiemon?”

“Hurry up, you will be late for school!!”

“Aa-ah!! Right, the school!!” He panicked for a second, then got up from the chair and went to change into his school uniform.

Pucchiemon looked at the computer next and realized there was something in Ken’s research, so he saved the info on an email and sent it to Miyako. Ken returned dressed for school and looked at Pucchiemon on the computer, “Huh, what did you do…?”

“Oh! I copied the part you highlighted from your documents and sent it to Miyako-san! If that's okay, right?”

“Ah, thanks for the help Pucchiemon” Ken smiled and gave the tiny fairy digimon a pat, “But why did you evolve into this form?”

“I think any other alternative would be bad for using the computer, hehe” Pucchiemon chuckled awkwardly. Ken imagined Stingmon’s hands would be too big and powerful for a computer, and he wouldn’t fit inside the room either…

“CRAP, I’LL BE LATE AGAIN!!” Daisuke had overslept, and lost the train. So he had to wait for another train and now he was super late, running as fast as he could and without paying enough attention to his surroundings…

“DAISUKE, WATCH OUT!!” Chibimon screamed but it was too late. Daisuke tried to stop to not collide with this person in front of him -- A blonde boy with bangs covering his eyes -- but it was a bad idea.

He just flew against the boy and BAM! Fell over the poor kid.

“I told you to be careful…” Chibimon was on the top of the ‘human pile’ and shaking his head.

“Ack! I’m-- Gah! I’m sorry!!” Daisuke got up and babbled apologies nonstop, then he helped the other to get up, “You OK?”

“Y-yes… I’m…” the boy was also in panic, “I’m sorry I should’ve paid attention to my surroundings…!!”

“No, it was just Daisuke who was careless,” Chibimon commented with a shrug.

“I already said sorry, Chibimon…!”

“I-it’s okay…” the boy tried to stop them from fighting, “Besides I’m new here so I’m… lost? And late for school,I presume…”

“Oh?” The duo looked at the stranger, and realized he was wearing the same uniform as Daisuke’s.

“Ah! I know where it is!!” Daisuke grinned, “You’re going to Amanogawa High, right? I study there too!! We’re getting hella late at this point, I’ll show ya my shortcut!”

“Shortcut?” the other blinked (though it wasn’t visible for anyone else because of the hair bangs in his face. Chibimon jumped from Daisuke’s back and evolved to V-mon.

“Hey, didn’t the principal say--” V-mon tried to argue, but!

“It’s okay, we don’t do this every single day so…” Daisuke pointed the digivice at V-mon, and then the digimon evolved into XV-mon. Daisuke dragged the new student to XV-mon’s back and the phantom dragon sighed.

“Fine, just only this time. Brace yourselves.”

“What are you--” the shy kid started his question, but XV-mon jumped into the sky and flew to the school’s yard “AA-aa--AAAAAAAAA--!!!”

“Hahaha! Hey don’t worry, it’s okay… The first time it’s a little scary but, XV-mon is a good bud.”

“Hmmm…!!”

“I won’t let you fall” XV-mon said, “If you fall, I can catch you before you hit the ground”

“S-sure…??”

“I’m Motomiya Daisuke, and this is my digimon partner, XV-mon” Daisuke introduced himself with a smile.

“I’m… N-Noel Le-Leblanc…” the kid replied, shyly and still afraid of falling from that height…

“Ah! So that’s why you said you’re new here! You’re an overseas student, right?? If you need anything you can ask me!”

“R-r-right…!!”

Once they arrived at school, Daisuke decided to give Noel a little help to get used to the school facilities, also a few train lines to get back and forth from school. It was too much information, the boy was taking notes, and asking a few questions with a timid voice.

Hikari and Takeru saw Daisuke with this new kid, but they noticed he was busy explaining stuff (in the most Daisuke-way as possible) that the moment Daisuke saw Takeru he asked for help.

Takeru was also nice, he and Hikari joined in the tour, and covered the subjects Daisuke wasn’t good at explaining. It was fun, except…

… All of them arrived late for their classes 💧

After class… Daisuke, Takeru and Hikari met with the others at the same karaoke booth. Daisuke was complaining about something and being comforted by Hikari and Takeru.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, I forgot today I was on morning duty!! *sigh* Goddammit!!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay… At least you explained to the teacher that you were helping the new student…” Hikari said gently.

“Hikari-chaaaan…” he was… crying now?

“New student?” Iori showed some curiosity on the subject.

“Yeah, Daisuke-kun helped him by showing the way to our school” Takeru replied, “He’s a 1st grade overseas student named Noel Leblanc.”

“I wonder what it's like to study abroad…” Miyako mused, “Maybe it’s scary but a good challenge…”

Ken looked at her, then he asked: “Miyako-san, did you read what Wormmon sent to you while I was busy?”

“Oh right! That’s why I called you all here!” She took her laptop and put it on the karaoke booth’s table.

“??” The other four and their partner digimon looked at the laptop’s screen.

“What is in the wall of text, Miyako??” Daisuke asked, clearly overwhelmed by the document.

“Um… *ahem* This is an old research I did when I was the Kaiser” Ken explained instead, quite embarrassed by this, “I gave up on it because I believed the Digimentals weren’t… useful.”

“He’s sulking because he was wrong about it… Ain’t he, dagya?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty much sulking here,” V-mon agreed with a nod.

“Sure sure,” same as Patamon.

“You guys are not helping here… 💧” Daisuke sighed.

Ken was feeling like he got stabbed by those comments and this hurt him harder than he could imagine. But he calmed down and continued: “If I can trust past me’s logs and notes, there were more than eight Digimentals in the past.”

“Right…” Daisuke said seriously, “There’s the Digimental of Miracles and Destiny too…”

“And Ichijouji-kun turned his Crest into a Digimental before,” Hikari added.

“Turns out that King Shoutmon’s story is legit.” Miyako continued, “Old transcripts found in the ruins mentioned a Digimental called ‘Digimental of Desire’ and it was too powerful, even more than the golden Digimentals we know.”

“But one detail in King Shoutmon’s story intrigues me” Tailmon looked at them, seriously, “If Vulcanusmon hid it… How did it reappear now in our current era, and broken into pieces?”

“I can answer that…” Ken seemed a bit… nervous now.

“Can you?” V-mon asked, innocently.

“... Ok, are you ready to know?” and the boy sighed.

“Yes/Yeah/Mhm!!”

“... I… I found it and broke it.”

“YOU WHAT!?” they all exclaimed together, in shock.

“Ken, how did you wreck a Digimental, dude!? Daisuke babbled, “What the heck!”

“With the power of a strong servant digimon and the ire of a god” Wormmon answered it, ashamed. Ken frowned, better none of the digimon know it…

“Another item to the Digimon Kaiser’s crime list” V-mon shrugged.

“If it was the strongest Digimental, why did you break it (dagya)!?” Hawkmon, Armadimon and Patamon asked in unison.

“..............”

“You couldn’t lift it, right?” The rest of the 02 group asked with an annoyed voice tone.

“G-guys… I… I tried to get rid of it because I didn’t want you to acquire it!! 💦”

“Yeah, he couldn’t lift it, so threw a tantrum and broke it” the others shook their heads. Ken felt an extra dose of shame.

“C-come on… I… No, you’re right…” he sighed again.

“I never thought you could break a Digimental…” Takeru commented, “That was a surprise to me.”

“So how many pieces did ya shatter this one, Ken?” Daisuke glanced at his best friend, “I’m not mad, I just wanna know how many of them we need to find before Arsenemon.”

“Uhh… Wormmon, do you remember the exact number of pieces we gathered and tried to hid without letting anyone know?”

“20 Pieces.”

“And how many pieces have we lost to Arsenemon so far?” Iori asked nonchalantly.

“3 pieces.”

“Counting with the ones with Izumi-senpai…” Miyako reported, “we have two pieces.”

“So there’s 15 pieces left…” Tailmon mused.

“But why would Arsenemon want those?” Hawkmon frowned, “I mean, he wouldn’t be a bad digimon, could he…? He stopped that Meicoomon from getting in trouble at that time.”

“Maybe he wants it for himself!!” Daisuke mused, “I’ve seen bad guys doing good things sometimes so…”

“Hmm…”

However, Ken’s old notes and research on the Digimentals did not clarify one important detail about the Digimental of Desire… … That its usage requires paying with a grand cost in return, so it was turned into a forbidden tool and hidden by Vulcanusmon.

“Boss!!” Espimon flew as fast as she could and stood in front of someone, who was definitely Arsenemon in disguise, “I’ve caught the signal of another piece!!”

“Ah… Now?” He blinked, “Hmm… Where is it?”

“Inside this residence, by the way” Espimon showed a holographic map with a house, the house had a family name plate saying Shinjo.

“Oh? Hmm… I wonder if they’re aware of that…”

“Of what, boss?”

He shrugged, “Well, it won’t hurt to check it out ourselves. But I like to play a cat and rat game with that group of human children…”

“I see… If my radar is correct, they’re… Leaving the karaoke bar.”

“But how will we find those pieces?” Hikari mused, “Miyako-san, Ichijouji-kun do you have anything we could use to track them?”

“Uh… I…” they started together, but they stopped.

“What if we let Arsenemon send those cards and get’ em?” Daisuke suggested, “So we know when he will attack and then we can counterattack!”

“That sounds easier to say than done,” Iori commented.

“Right, you didn’t catch him until now so how can we be sure to catch him first, dagya?”

“H-HEY!!” Daisuke and V-mon hissed, “We almost caught him last night!!”

“And with this he got three pieces ahead of us” Patamon shook his head.

“You don’t need to remember us!! 💦”

“Patamon, you don’t need to tease them like that…” Takeru frowned, “Next time I’m sure Daisuke-kun and V-mon will catch him.”

“We will get him for sure!” Daisuke clenched his fists.

Suddenly something like a flier flew on Daisuke’s face. He growled irritated, and took the paper, then  everyone noticed it was a small black card with a golden paw in it. A calling card!!

“Arsenemon made his move!” Wormmon exclaimed, and Ken immediately snatched the card from Daisuke’s hands.

“H-Hey!!”

“He says he will be going to Shinjo’s residence tonight to steal a treasure.” Ken read it, “Maybe for this one we can follow Daisuke’s idea.”

“Wait… Really?”

“Hmm, I will talk to Izumi-senpai and see if we can program a radar for the remaining pieces,” Miyako added, “Just don’t screw this up, Daisuke.”

“W-what? Wait, what do ya mean!?? Why do y’all think it’s my fault!?”

“We need to discover where to find this residence” Iori commented, “Hmm… I think I’ve seen someone whose family name is Shinjo before…”

“Hm? Who is?” Hawkmon asked, curious.

“There’s a new cafe shop, they are like a place for Chosen and digimon to gather and meet each other.”

“Oh that’s right! That one!” Miyako smiled, “I went there before to deliver some supplies!”

“Why does Iori know about that place?” V-mon was also curious.

“I passed by there once, saw Koushiro-san inside and I met this barista called Shinjo Michi.”

“We have to talk to her then! So let’s go--” He stopped walking and looked at someone a few meters away from them.

“What’s wrong?” Armadimon asked, and then everyone looked from Daisuke’s direction, seeing Noel kinda lost.

“Can y’all handle this for me?” he asked, with the palms of his hands together, “I have something to do…!!”

“Huh?” Miyako blinked, “Is it about that kid there?” But Daisuke and V-mon left, “D-don’t leave when we’re talking to you, Daisukeeee!!!”

“Who’s that boy Daisuke-san is talking to?” Iori asked Takeru and Hikari.

“That’s the new overseas student we talked about,” Takeru explained, “Daisuke-kun said he would help him with anything he needed…”

“I guess he’s lost again…?” Hikari frowned.

“... What was his name again?” Ken asked out of the blue, watching the other two boys and V-mon talking in the distance.

“Noel Leblanc, but why?” she replied.

“Out of curiosity,” then he turned to say to the others, “Let’s go to that cafe shop then…”

The group stood in front of the mentioned cafe and then Hikari noticed a barista talking with… Lune?! When they stepped in, they were received by a Lopmon (the owner’s partner)

“Welcome, please take a seat. I’ll send someone to take your orders.” and the long eared digimon gestured to a free table for five.

They thanked and sat on the free table, and then Hikari looked discreetly at Lune and the girl who looked like her somehow. There was something off there but could she tell what was?

“... Besides that,” they heard Lune talking to the girl, “I think you should be aware of your surroundings, Michi-san. I sense something… Extremely troublesome coming.”

She took her cup of espresso and left, waving, with Lunamon munching something that looked like a strawberry flavored candy. 

“I wonder what she meant by that…”  Miyako muttered to the group. Until Shinjo Michi went to take their orders.

“Hello, Welcome to Cafe Truffle!” Michi said, enthusiastically, “I’ll be your barista today, so can I take your orders?”

“Yeah!” Miyako spoke energetically “I would like a frappuccino, a strawberry cheesecake with tons of whipped cream, and two chocolate cupcakes with vanilla icing, and one super sweet sundae, please.”

“M-Miyako-san…” the kids blinked while the digimon started asking stuff… Except Tailmon.

“W-wow… I mean, r-right!” Michi blinked, once she finished taking their orders, “Excuse me, I’ll prepare your order.” and she left their table.

“Miyako-san, we came here to talk with her about Arsenemon” Iori whispered, but he was calm.

“Oh… I… I got hungry, sorry hehe… And it’s rude to come in and not order anything, so I had to…!”

Hikari went after Michi, and called the other’s attention, “Um, Shinjo Michi-san? 

“Yes?” Then Michi was cutting the strawberry cheesecake.

“Um, we came here to talk with you about a digimon.”

“Hm?” she looked at Hikari, smiling, “About which digimon?”

Ken left the table and went to meet with both girls, “A phantom thief digimon who has targeted your home.” 

“W-what??” she stopped preparing Miyako and the digimon’s order and stared at them, in shock, “What do you mean??”

“Michi” Plotmon (her partner) came in “Someone left a note here…”

“A note!?” Michi then took the paper from Plotmon’s mouth. Ken and Hikari noticed it was the same style of the calling card that flew on Daisuke’s face, “You gotta be kidding!! Is this a prank!?”

“We got one too…” Ken showed her theirs, but the 02 group version was more casual -- as if they were already friends.

“Who’s this Arsenemon and why is he--”

“Because of this Digimental fragment you have” and then he showed his phone with the photos of the pieces stolen and the ones they had sent to Koushiro.

“This thing wasn’t a normal gem?!” both Michi and Plotmon exclaimed.

[chloe--bug]

Sixteen days of winter, with nowhere to be in the morning, or normally even midday. Sitting at my desk with Kiwi for hours, drinking green tea all day, scrubbing the floors on my hands and knees, talking on the phone for the afternoon with someone I'll soon spend the next 12 hours with. I feel fortunate for the extra space between the minutes to sit within myself, to think about what I've been thinking about, and to breathe as slowly as feels right to my body. 

I think I have just been confounded by the way things have been, waking up on a couch with my shoes on and remembering how girlish I still am, taking a bite of breakfast that was cooked for me and thinking ahead to the rest of the morning but never the rest of the week. My emotions are spilling out of every part of me – I am fuller than usual, it's wild and mystifying and diverting. But it does not always feel good: much of the time, it feels like there is something bigger than me inside of me that is trying to get out but I can’t open myself wide enough to empty it. But there is something so invigorating about feeling to the kind of degree you’d feel to when you were younger, less bound to reality, less concerned with what might be, less guarded. There are times that I worry I’ll never fill up my heart like I did when I had yet to grow up, times like this remind me that isn’t true. 

I often think back to a time earlier this year, when I would walk alone on the beach and turn my thoughts over and over in my head until they grew bacteria on them and mutated into something completely different. It’s a bit of a habit I have, to run away and separate myself from the world and its flow. I found myself enamored with the idea of convincing myself of delusions that were entirely false. Both feet in the sand, breathing to the rhythm of the waves, I worried myself sick over something that never happened: a nightmare, a darker, more twisted version of reality that I invented because I thought if I could imagine the worst-case scenario before it actually happened, it would soften the blow. I neglected the healing power of the ocean in its vast, incomprehensible power – she moved towards me constantly with her dormant strength, and I kept my eyes on the stillness of the sand beneath my feet. The answer was right in front of me: turn to what is big, hold space for all of it, mirror what is powerful. I could not possibly understand this lesson at the time for I was too perplexed over a profound emptiness inside of me, a confusion about what I was supposed to be living for. I think when that feeling of void and empty approaches you should not try to fight it or fill it up… it has its own purpose, you can spend time in that space as it reveals itself to you, listen to its magic like you listen to all the rest.

There is something different about the lessons I am learning now, they are the first I am teaching myself as an adult. There’s a lot more room for error now, there isn’t anyone really supervising me. It never gets more normal, when it’s 10PM on a Tuesday and I can go wherever I want and do whatever I feel like. I feel invisible in the coffee shop, and walking down the familiar alleys of my neighborhood, but I’m not, everything I’m doing is forming and shaping me and everything I touch, but that doesn’t compute yet. I feel sometimes like I’m doing everything I can to keep me inside of myself, to stop her from shooting out into the ether, leaving the gold dust of her thoughts and ideas shimmering on the leaves of the trees and the tops of the hills. I’ve always known that there was something in me that not everyone would understand, but I didn’t feel so complete with it until recently. Now I’m older, and it no longer feels like the right decision to hold myself so tightly within my body. I sometimes sense that the earth has this hunger, and I want to feed it, I want to let my voice touch every edge of this earth. I will learn the answers after, it’s not important to me to be perfect yet.

There are always a few things left for me to decide, I know I go back and forth often, and I know the decisions will drive me crazy but it won’t change what I’ll find. To decide at all is to uncover something I’ve yet to feel, to live with that decision is to touch it all over and know its texture and the way its corners work. This morning I sat with my tea and watched the sun rise with my purring cat in my lap, knowing more than I knew a year ago or yesterday, and that was enough in that still, slow moment. I walked quietly down the hallway and felt the wood through my socks in a new way, warmer, sturdier, stronger. Maybe that was me feeling something inside of myself and not the floor, maybe this is all unfounded. As always I am trying to trust highs and lows and center myself on both feet in the moment that offers itself to me. Soon I will go back to the ocean and listen to the hypnotic murmur of the waves, I will let it all greet me and face it bravely, and there I can practice letting my soul shoot out into the clouds like fireworks.

[mttyswhre]

“I mean something stronger: that there are only finitely many lives that could possibly be lived; and that therefore free will, if it exists, must at some level be simply the selection of an element from a finite set.”

An equation of how the human experience can be broken down finitely 

Ponders that 

T = how long any human could live

A= possible inputs a human brain can experience at a time (5 senses++)

B= how many outputs a brain can produce (motor cortex signals)

K= “”moments”” in a second (neurons can fire at most around once per millisecond) 

The total number of human lives= (AB)KT

This argument doesn’t depend on how conscious works: even if there’s an immaterial soul, it can still make at most (AB)KT choices

“You might object that, even if there are a finite number of phone conversations that could be had, paintings that could be painted, and human lives that could be lived, the numbers are so astronomical that it would make no difference if they were infinite. This objection illustrates what might be called the 'fallacy of the virtually infinite” Is this provable with math? There's a Vsauce video titled Will We Ever Run Out of New Music? and he talks about how songs are consisted of bits in CD format and the state of each bit is only ever 1 or 0. A CD would need 211Million bits of data to store about a five minute song. And since bits are only ever in a 1 or 0 state this means that the number of different ways you can possibly arrange those bits is Two to the 211th million power. He explains that this leaves us with a 63MILLION digit number combinations within that equation. This includes every single audio file imaginable, conversations, newscast, voicemails, classical music, kpop, animal sounds, church preaching and everything else imaginable. He's saying that since we prefer certain notes, beats, melodies and sounds that a lot of music still sounds alike despite all these different options. New Scientist states that, "Although the number of possible melodies is finite, it is so very large that for all practical purposes, the supply of new tunes is infinite." I just can't imagine this being true. Don't the sounds run out? What is infinity? I'm like so confused because to me, in this universe, the simple math is telling me that there is a finite number of the way sounds can be arranged on a CD. Is the argument that we'll never run out of new music because an artist won't make a song twice just to change one single word and give us another version? Because yeah the same song with a small tweak has so many different versions, but they can exist and be counted. By God??? By the main simulation? Like this world we live in has such limits and boundaries and it's hard for me to imagine something being infinite.

Distinguishing between ten goats and twelve goats holds an evolutionary advantage but being able to understand infinity isn’t ‘helpful’. Informational remarks about Bill Gate’s wealth or the vastness of space showcase the fallacy of the virtually infinite.  

“But you can avoid the fallacy by remembering this simple rule: that for every whole number N, there are infinitely many whole numbers larger than N. This rule implies that 2, 17, and the number of possible human life experiences are all equally distant from infinity.”

The finite calculation on humans (AB)KT can be applied to computers even though computers appear to be infinite to us, we are both finite. There is a limitation to the number of states both humans and computers can be in. Since the Halting Problem applies to a computer it can be argued that it applies to us in ways that we are unable to compute. 

All thinking is computation, feelings of conscious awareness are done by completing appropriate computations.

Awareness is a feature of the brain's physical action; and whereas any physical action can be simulated computationally, computational simulation cannot by itself evoke awareness.???

The Halting Problem 

NonComputable processes in the brain (according to Penrose) mean that these processes can't be simulated by a machine. 

Specific tests are conducted to see if there are definitely some problems that are just non computable and the answer is yes. One example of this in action is the halting problem

This is where you ask a computer program to calculate whether or not another computer program will either halt or run forever. 

So we have this program called H that can decide this for us and do the calculations. Now let’s create a new program called P that is programmed to the opposite of whatever H calculates as the outcome for P (halt or run forever?). If H says P will halt, then P will run forever, and if H says P will run forever, then P will actually halt.

What happens when we use H on P? If H says P halts, then P starts running forever. If H says P runs forever, then P halts, contradicting what H said each time.

So, no matter how smart and magical your program H is, there will always be a program like P that messes things up. This demonstrates that there are certain questions or problems for which there is no universal algorithm or set of instructions that can provide a correct answer in all cases. The broader implication is that there are inherent limits to what algorithms and computers can accomplish.

Consciousness Is Finite (But I Don't Mind) by Scott Aaronson Note: I must have been in a finitistic mood when I wrote this piece three years ago. I don't know how much I agree with it. -SA (2001)

Introduction https://www.scottaaronson.com/writings/finite.html

Since so little is known about consciousness, it often seems that one can make any assertion about it that one wishes without fear of being proven wrong. For example, one could claim that the true seat of consciousness is an invisible cashew residing in the pancreas, and challenge scientists to find a better explanation. Or one could speculate that consciousness arises from as-yet-undiscovered noncomputable laws of quantum gravity operating within brain structures called microtubules, as Sir Roger Penrose did in his 1994 book Shadows of the Mind [Pen94]. Yet there's one seldom-discussed fact that tells us something tangible and important about consciousness, and that's easily seen to be true. It's that consciousness is finite.

Now we know that the brain is a finite physical object, containing roughly 100 million neurons and 100 billion synapses linking the neurons together. But by consciousness being finite, I mean something stronger: that there are only finitely many lives that could possibly be lived; and that therefore free will, if it exists, must at some level be simply the selection of an element from a finite set. The goals of this article are threefold: to show that this proposition is true; to discuss how it affects Penrose's theory of consciousness; and finally to explain why we needn't worry about the finiteness of our minds.

Finiteness

Perhaps you have the sensation of being able to do infinitely many things with your computer. You can visit web sites dealing with medieval weapons or the flammability of Pop Tarts; you can play Minesweeper or Quake, or make the mouse pointer dance across the screen, or write a program or an article about consciousness -- surely this variety has no end? But on closer thought, your computer is a finite object. If it can store N bits of information in memory (where maybe N >> 500 million), then it has at most 2N possible states, and its state at any time is a deterministic function of its previous state and the current input. (Here 'input' refers not only to the keyboard, mouse, microphone, and so forth, but also to the hard disk, CD and floppy drives, internal clock, and any other device external to the processor and memory.) In other words, your computer is what's called a finite-state automaton, or FSA (see Hayes [Hay95]).

Furthermore, time for your computer is broken up into discrete units, so that viewed as an FSA, it might only have, say, 200 million opportunities per second to change state. So clearly there's some finite upper bound M on the number of state transitions your computer can make before it breaks down. To be conservative, we could set M equal to a billion billion billion billion billion (1045), which is many more state transitions than your computer could make between now and when the universe collapses in a Big Crunch or degenerates in a black hole era. Then, raising the number of possible states to the power of M gives us a crude upper bound on how many things your computer could do. It's not infinite; it's at most 2MN.

Here's a disconcerting implication: if you have friends with whom you've only interacted online, then the whole history of your interactions can be described by one of those 2MN possibilities. So in that sense, you're not 'creating' your online conversations; you're just choosing from a large but finite space of pre-existing conversations. The same is true of phone conversations carried over digital switches. As Richard Dawkins [Daw95, p. 14] put it,

"When you plead with your lover over the telephone, every nuance, every catch in the voice, every passionate sigh and yearning timbre is carried along the wire solely in the form of numbers. You can be moved to tears by numbers -- provided they are encoded and decoded fast enough."

To which I'd add that yearning timbres can be encoded not only by numbers, but by numbers of bounded size -- that is, by finitely many of them.

These considerations apply not only to conversations, but to any information that you could store on your computer. The complete works of Shakespeare downloaded from Project Gutenberg, the Mona Lisa stored as a high-resolution JPEG image, and Beethoven's 5th Symphony stored as an MP3 audio file are all just selections from the space of 2MN possibilities. This raises an interesting question: how can 'artistic creativity' exist if every work of art is just a selection among finitely many pre-existing forms? It certainly wouldn't be 'creativity' if, presented with a bag of jellybeans, you chose a red one. I'll return to the matter in Section 5.

For now, let's ask how far our 'finitizing' of human experience can go. We've seen that there are only finitely many phone conversations that could be carried over a digital switch. But what about conversations over an analog switch? Or face-to-face conversations? First kisses? Walks through the park on an autumn day? I argue that there are only finitely many possibilities for each of these things, and indeed for all of human experience. This requires only that a computer could, in principle, simulate a human's experience of the world such that it would be impossible for the human to tell the difference from the real thing -- in other words, that 'total-immersion virtual reality' is theoretically possible. First, note that there's some finite upper bound T on how long any human could live. Again, to be conservative, we can set T equal to 101000 seconds (>> 10992.5 years). Second, at each moment, the human's brain can accept only a finite number A of possible inputs (i.e. signals to the visual, auditory, olfactory, and somatosensory cortexes), and produce only a finite number B of possible outputs (i.e. signals from the motor cortex). But how many 'moments' K are there in a second? Neurons can fire at most around once per millisecond, so as far as the brain's concerned, probably K < 1000. But once again, we'll be conservative, and assume that K = 101000. (Indeed, according to quantum theory, time itself might not be divisible beyond the Planck scale of 10-43 seconds.) Then the total number of human lives that could be lived is at most (AB)KT. This argument doesn't depend on how consciousness works: even if there's an immaterial soul, it can still make at most (AB)KT choices.

The Fallacy of the Virtually Infinite

You might object that, even if there are a finite number of phone conversations that could be had, paintings that could be painted, and human lives that could be lived, the numbers are so astronomical that it would make no difference if they were infinite. This objection illustrates what might be called the 'fallacy of the virtually infinite': the conflation of the distinct concepts of 'arbitrarily large' and 'infinite.' That we humans regularly commit this fallacy is understandable: the ability to distinguish between, say, eight goats and ten goats undoubtedly carried an evolutionary advantage, but a prehistoric human who pondered the difference between 101000 goats and infinitely many goats would only be wasting valuable hunting time. And in informal remarks about the vastness of space or of Bill Gates' wealth, we all understand 'virtually infinite' means. But in serious discourse, the fallacy of the virtually infinite can only create confusion. To explain why, we need to talk about sets.

Mathematicians denote the cardinality (or size) of the set of whole numbers, which is usually what we mean by 'infinity,' as (pronounced aleph-null). is not a number, nor is there any sense in which it can be considered the 'largest quantity.' In the 1880's, Georg Cantor showed that given any set S (which might be infinite), one can form a larger set by taking the set of subsets of S. The study of higher orders of infinity led to the amazing theorem of Kurt Gödel (1938) and Paul Cohen (1963) that whether there are orders of infinity between and the cardinality of real numbers is undecidable within the usual axioms of set theory [Coh66], but I digress. What's relevant for us is that it's easy to prove that is the lowest order of infinity -- that is, that there are no sets straddling the fence between finite and infinite cardinality. This means that there's a sharp distinction between sets of size N, where N could be an arbitrarily large integer, and infinite sets. These two classes of sets have very different properties: an infinite set can be placed in one-to-one correspondence with a proper subset of itself (think of the whole numbers and the even whole numbers), but this isn't the case for any finite set, no matter how large.

The ancient Greeks were suspicious of infinity because of 'paradoxes' related to the Fallacy of the Virtually Infinite, and because of their suspicion humanity had to wait two millennia for Isaac Newton and Gottfried Leibniz to discover differential calculus. But you can avoid the fallacy by remembering this simple rule: that for every whole number N, there are infinitely many whole numbers larger than N. This rule implies that 2, 17, and the number of possible human life experiences are all equally distant from infinity.

Implications for Penrose's Argument

When Penrose asserts that consciousness arises from noncomputable processes in the brain, he means that these processes can't be simulated by a Turing machine. The Turing machine is a model of computation proposed by the English mathematician Alan Turing in 1936. At first it seems bizarre: it involves a tape head moving back and forth, reading and writing symbols, on an infinitely long paper tape divided into squares. But the Turing machine can simulate all other models of computation that have ever been proposed, leading to the Church-Turing Thesis, that 'computable by a Turing machine' is what we mean by the word 'computable.' But are any problems noncomputable? Turing proved that the answer is yes. One example is the Halting Problem: given a Turing machine M and an input I, decide whether M will ever stop running when I is the initial configuration of symbols on M's tape. (If there were a Turing machine that decided this problem, we could use it to create another Turing machine H that stops running if its input program P runs forever when run with itself as input, and runs forever if P ever stops running when run with itself as input. Then we could run H with itself as input, creating a contradiction.) Penrose contends that simulating the human mind is among these noncomputable problems, and this is the basis for his speculations about quantum gravity and microtubules. Before we look at why the finiteness of our minds causes problems for Penrose's contention, let's examine his original reason for making it, which is based on Gödel's incompleteness theorem.

The incompleteness theorem says roughly that given any formal proof system F that allows reasoning about numbers and that's consistent (i.e., doesn't allow falsehoods to be proved), there's a statement of F, called G(F), which is true for F and yet unprovable within F. Gödel constructed G(F) by starting with the statement "This statement doesn't have a proof in F," which we can easily see is both true and unprovable in F given that F is consistent. He then showed how to express this statement in the language of F, by encoding the concepts of 'statement' and 'proof' as numbers. Gödel's result is a cornerstone of mathematical logic, but Penrose argues that it's relevant for consciousness as well. His reasoning is that, while a computer operating within the fixed formal system F can't prove G(F), a human can see its truth, and therefore humans must have mental capabilities beyond those of computers.

This argument isn't new (it goes back at least to John Lucas in 1961), and logicians and computer scientists have pointed out a major flaw in it. This is that human mathematicians don't use any consistent formal system such as F: they rely on intuition, and they frequently make mistakes. If we grant a computer this same liberty to make mistakes, then it need not operate strictly within F, and there's nothing paradoxical about it being able to 'see' the truth of G(F). Even without this consideration, that a computer is algorithmic doesn't imply that it must or should use a consistent formal system: if we program it to print '1+1=3,' then it will oblige. Penrose is aware of this flaw, and he tries at great length in Shadows of the Mind to repair it. For example, he argues that, even if individual mathematicians make mistakes, the mathematical community as a whole never disagrees 'in principle' about whether a given statement has been established as true -- but of course it does, in practice! He also asserts that we can distinguish between human mathematicians' 'correctable' mistakes and their 'unassailable' conclusions, but he's never explicit about how we can do so. (See McDermott [McD95].)

But refuting Penrose's argument is like a refuting a proposed method for squaring the circle: although finding the specific flaw can be instructive, we can decide before even looking at the argument that there must be a flaw somewhere. This is because, as we've seen, a human mind accepts only a bounded number of input bits and produces only a bounded number of output bits. So we don't even need the full power of a Turing machine to simulate a mind: a finite-state automaton (as from Section 2) will suffice. This makes the idea that the mind has noncomputational capabilities problematic. Before we consider Penrose's response to this objection, let's look at his proposed taxonomy of views on conscious awareness [Pen94, p. 12]:

All thinking is computation; in particular, feelings of conscious awareness are evoked merely by the carrying out of appropriate computations. Awareness is a feature of the brain's physical action; and whereas any physical action can be simulated computationally, computational simulation cannot by itself evoke awareness. Appropriate physical action of the brain evokes awareness, but this physical action cannot even be properly simulated computationally. Awareness cannot be explained by physical, computational, or any other scientific terms. Views A and B, I think, are the ones compatible with the knowledge that consciousness is finite. Penrose states, unsurprisingly, that view C "is the one which I believe myself to be closest to the truth" [Pen94, p. 15]. (He states at the outset that his focus is on explanations for consciousness that at least attempt to be scientific, thus ruling out view D.) The closest Penrose comes to addressing the objection that consciousness is finite is in his 'Q7' (one of twenty objections he raises against his theory, together with his responses). Though Q8 also deals with the fact that computers and brains are finite, it involves mathematical issues that are less relevant to us here. So let's look at Q7 [Pen94, p. 82-83]:

The total output of all the mathematicians who have ever lived, together with the output of all the human mathematicians of the next (say) thousand years is finite and could be contained in the memory banks of an appropriate computer. Surely this particular computer could, therefore, simulate this output and thus behave (externally) in the same way as a human mathematician -- whatever the Gödel argument might appear to tell us to the contrary?

To which Penrose responds, in part:

… One could equally well envisage computers that contain nothing but lists of totally false mathematical 'theorems', or lists containing random jumbles of truths and falsehoods. How are we to tell which computer to trust? The arguments that I am trying to make here do not say that an effective simulation of the output of conscious human activity (here mathematics) is impossible, since purely by chance the computer might 'happen' to get it right -- even without any understanding whatsoever. But the odds against this are absurdly enormous, and the issues that are being addressed here, namely how one decides which mathematical statements are true and which are false, are not even being touched by Q7. [All italics Penrose's]

This sounds like view B, directly contradicting Penrose's stated belief in view C. Penrose might respond by emphasizing the word 'properly' in view C, and arguing that simulating a mind by simply listing each of its finitely many contingencies, together with its chosen responses, isn't a 'proper' simulation. But in that case, why does he even distinguish between views B and C? (Penrose further blurs his stated position in a fantasy dialogue [Pen94, p. 179-190] between a human and a robot. The robot is driven insane when the human challenges it to prove a statement corresponding to G(F), but that the robot can hold an articulate conversation at all would seem to indicate Penrose's agreement with views A or B.) Penrose may not have sufficiently considered the impact that the finiteness of our minds has on his theory.

Why Finiteness Isn't So Bad

We've argued that, regardless of whether consciousness arises from the brain's complexity, or an incorporeal soul, or even quantum gravity and microtubules, to be conscious ultimately means to select one element from a finite set. Does this render consciousness trivial? Given the emphasis of 19th-century mathematics on continuous relationships and infinite sets, a mathematician from that era might have answered yes. But since then, it's become increasingly clear that finiteness doesn't imply triviality. The computer scientist Donald Knuth [Knu76] wrote,

"Since the time of Greek philosophy, scholars have prided themselves on their ability to understand something about infinity; and it has become traditional in some circles to regard finite things as essentially trivial, too limited to be of any interest. It is hard to debunk such a notion, since there are no accepted standards for demonstrating that something is interesting, especially when something finite is compared with something transcendent. Yet I believe that the climate of thought is changing, since finite processes are proving to be such fascinating objects of study."

So how did finite objects, dismissed as insignificant less than a century ago, come to take their proper place at the mathematical table? Part of the explanation might lie with Paul Erdös, a giant of 20th-century mathematics, who through his more than 1,500 publications helped bring respectability to the study of graphs and other finite combinatorial objects. The field of finite groups may also have played a role. For example, a group called 'The Monster' has only 8 * 1053 elements, and thus could be completely described by a finite table, but because of its connections to fields such as modular functions and string theory, it occupied the attention of some mathematicians for years.

The greatest impetus, though, has been the computer, which has fueled the creation of whole new branches of finite mathematics. One of these branches, called complexity theory, deals with how quickly the time and memory required to solve a problem grows as a function of the problem's size. For example, in the Maximum Clique problem, we're given a list of N people, together with a list of who's friends with whom, and are asked to find the size of the largest group of people who are all friends with one another. We can solve any instance of Maximum Clique by examining finitely many groups of people (there are 2N possibilities), and thus the problem might seem trivial. But 2N grows so rapidly that when, say, N >> 500, solving the problem by this brute-force approach would take all of the computers in the world today longer than the age of the universe. Maximum Clique is called an NP-complete problem (NP standing for Nondeterministic Polynomial), and thousands of other problems proven to be NP-complete are plagued by this same exponential growth. It's known that if there's an efficient algorithm for any NP-complete problem, then there are efficient algorithms for all of them -- where efficient is defined as requiring an amount of time that's bounded by a polynomial function (say N3) in the size N of the input. Having searched in vain for such an efficient algorithm for decades, complexity theorists assume that no such algorithm exists, and this is called the P!=NP conjecture. Proving (or disproving) P!=NP is one of the great open problems of modern mathematics, with applications to engineering, operations research, cryptography, and even the nature of creativity.

This last claim might seem surprising, especially given Penrose's guess that "the issues of complexity theory are not quite the central ones in relation to mental phenomena" [Pen89, p. 145]. So let's elaborate. Recall that in Section 2, we asked how a work of art could be 'creative' if it's just a selection among finitely many pre-existing possibilities. The answer most people would give, I think, is that if a set of possibilities is so enormous that no two people would ever be likely to make the same choice, then selecting one possibility could be creative. So choosing a jellybean from a bag containing eight flavors wouldn't be creative, but choosing one from a bag containing 101000 flavors might be. Often we're confronted with many more choices than 101000 when we write a poem, compose a song, or draw a picture, because the number of choices grows exponentially with the number of characters, notes, or pixels. But having exponentially many choices, by itself, doesn't guarantee that creativity is possible. We also need that given any choice, evaluating that choice's 'beauty' is computationally intractable -- requiring us to, say, simulate an entire human brain to gauge its reaction to the choice. For if there were an efficient (polynomial-time) algorithm for evaluating artistic beauty, and if complexity theorists ever discovered that P=NP, then art would be rendered trivial! We could have software to write 'optimal' poems, compose 'optimal' songs, and paint 'optimal' pictures, and artists in those fields would be out of jobs. Since we hardly want our notion of creativity to hinge on the solution to an unsolved math problem, we should at least require that evaluating a work of art of size N requires an amount of time exponential in N, and maybe even require the problem to be undecidable. (Humans, of course, could make 'heuristic' judgments of beauty much more efficiently than this.) Thus, even though art only involves selecting among finitely many choices, complexity theory helps us understand that the choice can be nontrivial in practice.

That our minds are finite helps to shed light on certain philosophical arguments, such as Penrose's. But as we've seen, it doesn't render consciousness trivial, nor does it diminish the role of creativity. So I don't mind that my entire life can be modeled by the choosing of a single element from a finite set, and I hope you don't mind that yours can be so modeled either. The finiteness of our minds may even be cause for optimism, because it makes our ability to contemplate the infinite even more astounding.

References

[Coh66] Cohen, Paul. Set Theory and The Continuum Hypothesis. Benjamin Books, 1966.

[Daw95] Dawkins, Richard. River Out of Eden. Basic Books, 1995.

[Hay95] Hayes, Brian. "Debugging Myself," American Scientist, September-October 1995.

[Knu76] Knuth, Donald. "Mathematics and Computer Science: Coping With Finiteness," in Selected Papers on Computer Science, CSLI Publications and Cambridge University Press, 1996. Originally published in Science, Volume 194, December 17, 1976.

[McD95] McDermott, Drew. "[STAR] Penrose is wrong," Psyche, September 22, 1995.

[Pen94] Penrose, Roger. Shadows of the Mind. Oxford University Press, 1996 (first printing 1994).

[Pen89] Penrose, Roger. The Emperor's New Mind. Penguin, 1991 (first printing 1989).

[denimbex1986]

"Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say."

"There’s a relationship, but no. The dictating went the other way, and the thing we’ve done with the platter over the years, because when I started working with IMAX film it was okay, two-and-a-half hours, that’s it, and then we got to Interstellar, which went up to two-forty-seven; and what they were able to do for me is engineer the platters a little bit wider so it has an extra rim, and that got a little wider and a little wider over the years. And then on this, I went to them and I said, “Okay, I’ve got a 180-page script. That’s a three-hour movie on the nose. Can it be done?” We looked at it, they looked at the platters, and they came to the conclusion that it could just be done - and they’re telling me this is the absolute limit because now the arm that holds the platter, we're right up against it. So this, this I think is finally the, the outer limit of running time for an IMAX film print."

"That’s a really hard one to answer because I’m a writer-director, and so I do write, whether I co-write or I write by myself, that final draft of the script I very much have an editing hat on already. So structurally, the films tend to be fairly disciplined, I would say, but the discoveries you make in editing are complex and multi-varied, and things transform over time. The, the approach Jen Lane, my editor, and myself take is to view the film as a whole, and so we��re watching it every week. We’re putting it up, usually inviting one or two people in who don’t know anything about the script to watch it with us; see it through their eyes.

And every film presents unique challenges, and I think in the case of Oppenheimer, it was very much, very much being guided by the balance between the color sequences where we’re trying to see everything from his point of view, be in his head, see through his eyes, and then the black and white sequences, which are much more Robert Downey Jr.’s point of view - Lewis Strauss is the character he’s playing. I try to balance the subjective from the objective and give sufficient momentum to those two timelines, that they're gonna - there’s a feeling of confluence at the end. But every film is different. Every film has its unique challenges, and some films are improved in the edit suite through tightening and speeding things up a lot, and that’s very often our process. Other films, Interstellar was one, where you couldn’t just keep squeezing it; it wouldn’t help the pacing - you actually needed to let things breathe. You know, you needed to let the sights and sounds you were experiencing with the audience breathe a bit, hence the bigger IMAX platter."

"There are no CGI shots in the movie."

"Well, one of the first people I showed the script to was my visual effects supervisor, Andrew Jackson. And I said to him; he’s very well-versed in CG, but he’s also very, very well-versed in practical effects and understands the value of that. And I showed it him very early on, and I said, “Okay, what we need in this film is a thread between the interior process of Oppenheimer, his imagining, his visualizing of atoms, molecules, those interactions, those energy waves. We need a thread that runs from that right through to the ultimate expression of the destructive power when that force is unleashed. It has to be - it has to live in the same family.” And I think computer graphics, they’re very versatile, they can do all kinds of things, but they tend to feel a bit safe. That’s why they’re difficult to use in horror movies. Animation tends to feel a little safe for the audience. The Trinity test, ultimately, but also these early imaginings of Oppenheimer visualizing the Quantum Realm - they had to be threatening in some way. They had to have the bite of real-world imagery. The Trinity test, for those who were there, was the most beautiful and terrifying thing simultaneously, and that’s where we were headed with this film.

So he spent many months working on extremely small things and extremely large things in combination with Scott Fisher, our special effects supervisor, who is second to none in the world of blowing things up on a vast scale. And so it was really a combination of scales, and ultimately, that spoke to the whole of the film because quantum physics and the expression of quantum physics through nuclear weapons is really about the incredible disparity of scales. You know, the laws of quantum physics work at this, you know, tiny, tiny level and then they find expression out in the stars of black holes and supernovas and all the rest. So we were really trying to embrace both ends of the scale, and Andrew’s methodology and how he achieved those things truly did embrace both ends."

[weebswrites]

Oh gosh, imagine the brothers discovering that MC is a CULT LEADER-

MC: Yeah, I have a cult. So what?

My mother had one too. And my father. And my grandparents. And my great grandparents...

MC has a cult in the human world…

SATAN and ASMODEUS love it, but for different reasons. Satan loves it for pretty obvious reasons: he loves the power you hold over so many individuals and how they so obediently follow you, he loves how you saw the opportunity to rise to the top from the hardly surviving cult, and he loves how even from another realm of the universe you still have your followers checking up on you daily, reminding you they’re anxiously awaiting your return. Asmodeus supports you almost unconditionally, so the fact that you have a cult of your own is pretty badass. He makes sure it isn’t something insane or toxic, but once you reassure him it’s all good and safe he’s thrilled. Will absolutely visit your followers and befriend them

LUCIFER is very suspicious at first. MC? His MC? Leader of a cult? It isn’t that he doesn’t think you could do it, he just didn’t peg you (hah) as someone who would have any interest in that. Once you casually mention you need to head back to the human world to check in on your followers and let them know you’re alive, he perks up. Asks you a few questions and offers to escort you back to them. Half because he wants to always be by your side make sure you get back safe, half because he wants to see what you’re like in a cult environment

BEELZEBUB and LEVIATHAN, and BELPHEGOR don’t really care. Not in a bad way, just in a ‘it’s not my business so I won’t pry’ way. Beel definitely raises an eyebrow and asks a few questions, but after that he moves on. What you want to share you will, and what you don’t you don’t. Levi shows more interest, but not by much. He respects your privacy too, and asks every once in a while how things are going and if you need anything, but besides that he doesn’t bring it up. Belphie trusts you to do your own thing, and knows you’ll go to him if you need help or advocate. He might have run a cult of his own at some point, who could say ;)

MAMMON is so very intrigued. He asks you loads of questions, the further he gets into his questioning the more money-oriented his inquiries become. You don’t mind, of course, and offer to bring him with you the next time you visit your people. He asks them all questions about you and what it’s like in the organization, and everyone either loves him, or he grows on him within your visit

—————————

A/N: hi I don’t have yellow text on mobile so mammon’s name is gonna be white for a bit until I get to my computer to change it (in about…a week 💀)

edit: fixed (about two weeks later lmao no I did not forget /s)

[agapaic]

[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

/

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

/

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

/

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

[vixenpen]

Look me in the face and tell me that a thick asf, black, bookworm fem reader is the next door neighbor of the sexy twitch streamer or cam boy Shinsou, who wants nothing more than to make you his and have you screaming his name doesn’t sound hot! I dare you 🗿 She’s so shy and sweet and Shinsou just wants to know how loud she can be after the two get to know each other more

Omg that’s so hot 🤤 if y’all can’t tell, I love men secretly pining and lusting after unknowing female readers. ESPECIALLY if they are shy, nerdy, and or curvy/thicc girls. So Inhad fun with this

Girl Next Door (Shinsou x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Art by: @raikiriart)

Shinsou kept his blinds opened when he gamed. He always joked with his viewers that it was for the natural lighting.

“Y’all know the sun really brings out the purple in my eyes.” He’d smirk, and that was that.

They didn’t need to know the real reason he kept them open. His violet eyes flitted towards the window again as he mindlessly navigated the game. That’s when he saw you walking into the complex.

“Uhh, alright guys, I think that’s about it for today. I’ll be back on tonight for our midnight stream,” his eyes flicked over to the window again. You were checking the mailbox. Perfect. “Until next time, later guys.”

Shinsou quickly shut off his computer and threw on a pair of shoes before rushing down the stairs.

“Hey there bookworm.” Shinsou grinned as he approached you.

As soon as you turned and flashed him your little brace face smile, he felt an arrow pierce his heart. God you were adorable. With your colorful braces and glasses and pretty chocolate dimples.

“Hey yourself, e-boy.” You replied.

“Get anything interesting?” Shinsou nodded at your stack of mail as he opened his own mailbox.

“A new book.”

“Of course,” he shot you a smirk.

“Of course,” you giggled.

“Well, hey, that’s what makes you my little book worm.” He teased.

You glanced away your shy little dimpled smile making his heart flutter.

“Well, I better get upstairs,” you said, “I have studying to do.”

“Alright then,” Shinsou’s heart sank a bit at the thought of losing time with you. “Mind if I walk up with you?”

“Sure!”

Shinsou let you lead the way.

You two were neighbors and had come to be good friends; often walking up to your apartments together. So you thought nothing of it when he took up space behind you. Not even feeling the predatory gaze on your ass.

Shinsou’s friendly face fell into an almost hungry gaze as you strutted in front of him. There was something about your cute face juxtaposed with your stacked curves that drove him crazy. Your round ass bounced with every step as you led the way up the stairs. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his joggers and stroked the bulge growing in his pants as your ass wiggled.

Stop being such a creep man.

He chastised himself as you bounced up the stairs, but fuck he couldn’t help it.

All he could imagine was how loud he could make your soft little voice scream for him while he pounded into your thick ass from the back or watched your bouncy tits jiggle in his face.

“Hey, y/n,” Shinsou piped up before he could stop himself.

“Yeah?” You cocked your head.

Cutie.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over and order take out. We can just watch a movie or somethin’..or not! I don’t want you to think I’m tryna Netflix and chill or something!” Even though he totally was.

You felt your face burn. In all the time you and Shinsou had been neighbors, you had always had a crush on him, but never knew how to express it. You honestly never expected anything more than friendly mailbox banter; so getting invited to his house was a pleasant surprise to say the least.

“O-oh, um—Sure!”

“Really? Ahh, I have to stream tonight at midnight, but how bout eight?”

Your cheeks burned as you nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Alright, I now have an hour to make this place look presentable.” Shinsou gazed around his messy bachelor pad.

He managed to make his place decent and changed from his joggers into jeans and a t-shirt. He even combed his messy purple locks a bit. He wanted to look good for you guys’ first hang out session. After all, he couldn’t believe you had actually agreed to hang out with him. Shinsou had been crushing on you for months, but he didn’t think he was actually good enough for you. You were smart and studious and hard working and he was pretty sure you only viewed him as a lazy gamer guy.

That was why he had to impress you. This was his first shot to make a real impression and maybe score a real date with you.

He wondered how you would wear your hair and makeup. If he’d finally get to see those curves of yours hugged in a dress. He groaned aloud, thinking about running his fingers over your body.

“Fuck...” he muttered, feeling his dick flex at the thought of your thick chocolate body writhing under his.

Shinsou stroked himself through his jeans growing harder as his thoughts about you ran wild.

I can’t act like this when she’s around. I’ll scare her off for sure.

Ok. He had twenty minutes. He could just rub one out, right? That way when you got there he wouldn’t be thinking about throwing you on the kitchen table and deep dicking you until you were a groaning mess.

You knocked at Shinsou’s front door. You stepped back and bounced on your toes a bit.

When he opened the door, you felt your heart quicken. He looked so handsome. You weren’t used to seeing him in jeans and you could see how well sculpted his chest was through his shirt.

“Hey, bookworm.” He smiled.

“Hi, you.” You replied.

“Come on in.”

As soon as Shinsou ushered you inside you were intrigued by all the cool super hero posters and pictures of friends on the family.

“DC guy, huh?” You smirked at him as you observed his DC posters.

“For the most part,” Shinsou replied, coming up to your side. “I like the world building more in DC; feels a bit more real to me than Marvel. I don’t know why, but I have to admit I like Marvel’s villains more.”

“Hmm. I’m the opposite.”

Shinsou’s brow quirked as he grinned down at you.

“Oh yeah?”

You nod, shrugging. “I just think marvel has cooler, more powerful heroes and I like the world building in marvel. But I think DC has cooler villains and I like the grimmer grittier vibe.”

“Hmmm, let me find out my bookworm is a comic buff.”

Your heart fluttered again at the possessive nickname, but you mask it with a grin. “Try me.”

By the time the pizza arrives you and Shinsou are deep in your conversation about movies, comics, books, and your favorite shows.

Shinsou proudly shows you his custom PC and set up and swells with pride at how you gush over his build.

He loves hearing about your studies and theories and you guys bounce ideas off of each other for hours.

Before you both know it, it’s eleven o’clock.

“I’m so sorry, Shin. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

“Trust me, y/n, if it wasn’t for that alarm I wouldn’t have even noticed the time. This has been really fun.”

The grin that lit up your face made your dark eyes sparkle and Shinsou desperately wanted to kiss you.

“Yeah. It was fun. I’m really glad we did this.”

“Yeah, totally. We should...do it again sometime. Maybe we can go out for dinner next weekend?” He offered, carefully.

You glanced away, sweetly, composing yourself before meeting his eyes again with a shy nod.

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool,” Shinsou grinned, scratching the back of his neck as a blush burned on his cheeks. Guess I’ll hop over next door and pick you up huh?” He chuckled.

“Sure.” You giggled back. “Well...night, Shin, have fun on your stream.”

“Night, y/n.” He smiled back.

As soon as you were out the door, Shinsou wanted to whoop and holler. Holy shit! He couldn’t believe he’d finally did it! Not only did he ask you to hang out, he scored an actual date with you!

Not only that, he finally got to know you beyond just a few words, and you were totally cool!

Knowing how cool and interesting you are coupled with your sweet, shy nature just made you more attractive to him.

He couldn’t help being even more turned on. You were like the perfect girl. Shy and sweet and nerdy and cool and Thicc as fuck.

He couldn’t wait to get to know you better in more ways than one...

He felt himself stirring once again and sighed, palming himself through his jeans.

“Dammit,” he muttered, eyes fluttering shut in frustration. “I’ve really gotta stop working myself up over you, bookworm.”

Alright. He had an hour. He could take care of his ‘little problem’ before he started his stream. He would be thinking of you riding his face the whole time.

[kerie-prince]

the intern

Peter Parker x Reader (college au)

requested: (anon) plz plz plz give me some college aged, super powerful ( think stark ceo powerful ) peter parker shit. idc what the rest of the story is about, i just need a brooding, smoldering, suit wearing, extremely expensive, college aged spiderman. plz and thank you!!!!

warnings: language

summary: When you start a new internship at Stark Industries, you're not only surprised to find Peter working as your boss, but that he's not the shy neighborhood boy you grew up with

a/n: this doesn't follow canon so for this imagine, hammer industries is just a rival company and the snap never happened lol also i don't know anything more than operating a phone so don't expect me to write sciencey, techy stuff lmao

(gif source)

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were running across the road to jump into a cab that was available. Your phone hadn't been charging all night as you thought it had which caused you to wake up forty-five minutes before the start of the interview. You need this internship before you graduate from Empire State and get your degree in robotics.

On the way there, you nearly got car sick as the driver took sharp turns and nearly ran past intersections seconds before they became red. Once in front of Hammer Industries, your heels clicked loudly as you ran inside the tall building. You checked in with the front desk and took the elevator up to the 10th floor.

Just as you arrived, Justin Hammer was calling your name. “I'm right here!” you nearly tripped on your heels and your breaths were short.

“I've called your name three times, do you understand what that makes you look like, correct?” Justin stood unphased as you stood up straight and tried to steady your breath. “All these people are on time. Some of these folks have been here for hours, even.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry–”

“Shame, I really liked your resume and your report on the expansion of nano-technology. Try again next year, maybe.” Justin started to call out the next participant and when she got up you stepped in front of her, “Please Mr. Hammer, I need this internship or I can't graduate.”

The people in the waiting room had their eyes on the two of you, tension so thick that it was almost hard to breathe. “Then maybe you should have come on time,” he pushed you aside to let the next person in to interview. You quickly ran back out and spoke to no one all the way home. Your eyes and cheeks were aching as you held in the tears during your Uber ride. The driver wanted to ask if you were okay, but if you were to break down in his car he’d probably be stuck having to listen to what happened and if he was honest with himself, he didn't actually care.

Once you got to your apartment, you made a straight line to the kitchen. “Hey, how’d the interview go?” MJ, your roommate, asked while still looking at her computer. You reached into the freezer for your emergency ice cream pint, snatched a spoon and walked into your room without saying anything. “That bad, I guess,” MJ said to herself.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

You sat with MJ and Ned in the cafeteria, but had not touched any of the food on your plate. Your head was laid on the steel table and you just continuously groaned. “I’m a failure,” you whined.

“No, what you are is fucking dumb,” MJ commented as she ate.

“Thanks, Michelle, that makes me feel so much better,” you looked up to glare at her before laying her head back down. Ned felt bad that his friend was in despair, “How come you didn't ask Peter for help?”

“Huh?” you lifted your head back up some of your hair falling onto your face.

“Yeah, Peter already works at Stark Industries, why didn't you just ask him to get you in? You could even skip the internship altogether and be in full time,” Ned suggested. You gave it some thought, but something about it didn't sound right.

“No, I don't want to bother Peter. I don’t want him to think that I’m only calling him for a job,” you sighed. Ned texted Peter anyways. Unexpectedly, Peter texted him back immediately.

“He says it’s fine,” Ned showed you his phone to read the text. ‘Yeah man, tell her to come in tomorrow and Ms. Potts will interview her’

You let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding and pulled out your phone.

‘Thank you so much for helping me out’

(…)

‘No problem, anything for a friend’

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The Stark Industries building was huge. It almost looked taller than the Empire State Building, and maybe it actually was. Your legs were shaking as you stared up at it. “Here goes nothing,” you assured yourself.

The lobby was bustling with people; workers walking around, a group of kids that seemed to be here on a field trip, and some teens taking pictures in front of one of Mr. Stark's Iron Man suits.

The trip up to the 17th floor was crowded with people as more and more entered in every passing floor. You had to squeeze yourself out and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot in the process.

Looking around, your jaw dropped. It was an open laboratory with groups of people putting together small robots, flying drones, and people laughing and talking. It was such a fun and cool looking environment, you wondered why you didn't just apply here in the first place.

Pepper Potts spotted you walking around and approached you with a tap on your shoulder. “Hi, I’m Pepper. You must be Y/N,” she reached her hand out to shake yours which you accepted. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Peter’s told me a lot about you. Come, follow me,” Pepper’s office had glass walls and a view of New York from behind her desk. You weren't particularly fond of heights, but even you would love to have an office view like that. Pepper gestured to the chair in front of her as she smoothed her dress to sit in hers. “So, I see here that you had an interview at Hammer’s. Can I ask why you chose them?” You didn't even know how they got that information. You hadn't seen or spoken to Peter in quite a while, so how Pepper knew that was beyond you. You sat there with your lips moving to say something but nothing was coming out.

Pepper seemed to have caught on what you were thinking and elaborated, “Before I do any interviewing, I do full background checks on everyone.” She had a gentle smile which made you feel better. You thought she would scold you or something considering the question did more than catch you off guard.

“My mother used to work there for a long time and I figured that I would follow,” you explained. Pepper nodded her head and wrote some notes down. She looked onto her computer and looked at everything there was about you. “Well, I see here that you have exceptional grades. 4.7 GPA since you started school and your paper on nano-technology has gotten much praise. I think even Tony read it.” No way. The Tony Stark read my paper? “So tell me, do you see yourself working here at Stark Industries?”

You looked outside and watched everyone in the open lab again. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all I need to hear. We’d love to have you here,” she reached over to shake your hand. You looked at her surprised and hesitantly shook hers. “Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

“Thank you so much!” You cupped her hand with both of yours and shook it a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to mind. You were ecstatic to start your path to your career, and at a dream place at that.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

Your alarm rang at the time you set it to, but there was no need for it. You couldn't sleep all night. Today is your first day of your internship and you were feeling so many things at once. Excited, nervous, happy, scared…

You tried to restrain yourself to a light breakfast, but MJ’s pancakes were to die for that you ate two whole stacks. You looked through your closet just about fifteen times; you had already picked an outfit the following night with the help of MJ, but when you put it back on, you hated it. It sucked for your roommate seeing as she had to sit through you changing from eight other outfits.

You tried to picture the lab again to see how other people dressed for a better idea to base it on your outfit choice. From what you remember, it was pretty casual, so that’s what you stuck to.

You were given your pass the day you were hired, so you had no issue walking inside. The elevator was just as packed as it was last time, but you were more composed so there were no toes being stepped on this time. You weren't exactly sure as to where you had to go, so you looked around to see if there were other interns to ask where to start.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice surprised you from behind. Your shoulders jumped a bit, but relaxed at the view of his face. His face… you actually hadn't seen him for quite a while. Months, maybe. His jawline was more defined, and his once floppy hair was styled neatly. You tried to not look him up and down, but the temptation was definitely there. And the other thing, his voice was deeper than you last remembered. Is this really Peter Parker? “Hey, Peter.”

He gave you a hug that nearly made you lose breath. He was stronger than you remembered. A memory flashed back to when you were in junior high; you, Ned and Peter were hanging around the local park and you beat Peter on rounds on the monkey bars. He gave up after a couple bars, but you went back and forth a couple times. ‘Show off.’ But now, he had muscles that the shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps.

The hug was quick, and you had to pretend that he didn't just squeeze some life out of you. “Do you work on this floor?”

“Yeah, you’re actually assigned to work with my team. Come, I’ll show you around.” He started walking and you noticed how his posture changed. Damn, I know it hasn't been this long since I've seen him. Why does he look so different? He was wearing trousers. Trousers? Peter hates trousers. But his ass is looking great–

“Hey guys, this is Y/N. She’s going to be working with us as an intern. And I'll say this beforehand, no she's not going to be taking coffee or lunch orders,” Peter introduced you. There were various aged people in this group. Some were your age, and one person looked to have been in his thirties. Peter is in charge of this group? They all said ‘hi’ to you and went around introducing themselves.

Once that was finished, Peter pulled a chair for you on the table. “You’ll take notes for me while I give this presentation,” he whispered to you before walking in front of the table and started writing on the clear glass board.

He was talking quickly and didn't stumble over his words like he used to. Everyone was listening to him attentively and you jotted notes down as quickly as you could. Every now and then, you would steal glimpses of him and feel a sort of… well you felt something. Amazement? Inspiration? Adoration?

No doubt was Peter one of the smartest people you've ever met and here he was leading his own team and making potential products for Stark Industries at such a young age. Seeing him at work was so… it was indescribable to you but all you could think of was how different he is now. In a good way, of course.

Peter Parker has been your friend for years and to see him change from a bumbling, shy, adorable nerd into a confident, intelligent working man attracted you.

When you got home, you thought a lot about your first day. Being an intern at Stark Industries was really fun, so far. You weren't expected to do silly things like get coffee or lunch for everyone or pick up someone’s dry cleaning. You actually learned something and even had your opinions heard on some of the things that Peter suggested for his team’s upcoming product presentation.

If this is what it's like to be an intern, you couldn't imagine what it would be like working full time.

“How'd it go?” MJ stuck her head in your room. “It was fun. I'm working with Peter,” you explained your day to her.

“Cool,” was the last thing she said before she went to her own room for the night.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

In the past few months, your internship at Stark’s has been going swimmingly. Everyone's been so nice, and the work is so fascinating. You've gotten closer with Peter and along the way, he felt like he was more than a friend and boss to you.

Currently, everyone was getting ready for their final presentations for the upcoming annual Stark Industries Convention. It was going to be Peter’s first year presenting his own project with his team and you were so excited to be a part of it.

The time you’ve spent with Peter was really fun. He was a good mentor and a great friend. The only thing was that you couldn't help but look at him a little too long, and you’ve found yourself thinking about him during your classes or doing your homework. The shy boy from Midtown High was no more, replaced– no, grown into the Peter you know now. But you pushed all feelings aside to focus on your next thesis paper and mock-up of the handout brochures of Peter’s project.

Sometimes, you didn't even feel like an intern as Peter would ask for any ideas you had to make the project better and even let you help with assembly. He stayed true to his words and you’ve never once had to run for coffee or things like that. There’d be times when you would study some of the little parts under a magnifying glass and he’d come up slightly behind you and explain about some of the bits on the working table.

And every time he did that, your breath would be stuck in your throat and you’d have to remind yourself that this was just Peter helping you out and you’re just learning. But it was normal to want more every now and then… right?

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

The convention was just a few days away and you had trouble finding something to wear. These events were usually black tie events, but did that mean the presenting teams as well? Wouldn't that be uncomfortable?

One of the guys on your team, Richie, sat with you during lunch and talked about how he was probably going to wear the same suit as always. Not because he couldn't afford a new suit, but he was just a simple person and he only wears it once a year for the conventions and that’s all, so it’s still in mint condition.

The girls on your team and some from others were going dress shopping the day before and invited you to join. You were excited mainly because now you don't have to bother MJ for it.

Speaking of MJ, you were going to ask her to come with you. Pepper sent out the electronic invitations to everyone in the company and authorized plus ones to even interns. She’s never been to one – for reasons you were still confused about – but you wanted your best friend to be there for you. And if not MJ, then you bet Ned would still come with you. Wait, what if he’s going with Peter?

On cue, Peter had sat in the chair next to yours in the small break room, “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey Pete. You excited for Saturday?” Peter quietly stirred his coffee and gave you a small smile, “Uh, yeah. I’m nervous, but I’ve worked really hard on this. And everyone, too. Including you.”

You slightly blushed. I didn't do all that much you thought. You two just sat there taking small sips from the hot, bitter beverage.

“So… I wanted to ask you something,” Peter started.

“Mhm?” The coffee nearly slipped past your lips. You quickly grabbed a napkin to lightly dab some of it off of your lips.

“Well, as you know, we can bring anyone with us to the convention,” he trailed off.

“Yes?” Is he going to…

“And I wanted to know if you were bringing MJ with you.” Oh. You nodded your head and thought you hid your disappointment well but without knowing, Peter actually caught it for a split second. “Good. You can come with me,” he smiled and stood up.

You were in awe; without effort, Peter just asked you to be his date for Saturday.

:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆:

“Dude, how are you not ready yet? He’s gonna be here any minute,” MJ sat at her computer per usual working. Your music was too loud for her taste playing from your shared bathroom. Peter said he would pick you up at 7, and it was currently 6:50.

You had put on and removed your make-up at least five times. Something was always wrong; one of the wings would either be thicker than the other, the blush would be the wrong shade, or the lipliner kept going out of place. But, alas, you finally nailed it.

Your hair was styled half up with elegant curls and braids. In between some braids were little bits of baby’s breath flowers. Most likely, you were going to have a hard time taking those out but they looked cute and it was too late to take them out.

Your dress was right above your knee and flowed comfortably so you wouldn't have a hard time walking. It was a neutral taupe color and had a V-line that ended just above cleavage and hugged the curve of your waist. You paired it with simple black heels and a small, white handbag.

“He’s here,” MJ informed you.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “what do you think?” You spun around and held your arms out. “You look really pretty. Now go get ‘em. I’ll watch it on the live stream.” She gave you a lazy thumbs up and resumed her work.

Outside was Peter in an all-black apparel. His dress shirt had only one button undone, and he had a loose blazer that accentuated the dip of his shoulders. He stood against the limo with his hands at his sides. God, he’s gonna be the death of me.

When he caught sight of you, he had a flirtatious smirk on his lips and held out for your hand. “Peter, where’d this limo come from?”

“Mr. Stark set it up for me,” he stated like it was no big deal. Must be nice being his favorite. He held the door for you to climb in and closed the door behind him. “We’re ready, Happy,” he told the driver. Happy rolled his eyes, closed the window and drove off.

The convention was off to a great start; Tony Stark came in with his suit as he always loved to do and started introductions before everyone else scattered around to look at the projects of the many departments in his company. Some groups of certain departments had large stages, some had small stands, like Peter’s.

There were still large crowds coming to see the smaller presentations, and everyone seemed to be fascinated with Peter's. You stood on the side as his team operated the machine and Peter spoke. He looked confident and it was mesmerizing to watch him.

After the night was over, all employee’s and some guests were brought back to headquarters for the after party. You walked around with Peter and had flutters in your heart every time he held the small of your back. The most exciting part of the night was meeting Tony Stark in person. He greeted Peter warmly, and then his eyes landed on you, “Peter, who’s this?”

“Oh, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of mine,” he gestured for you. You shook Tony’s hand and stood starstruck. “The one you don’t shut up about?” Pepper hit his shoulder and laughed nervously.

“Wait, I’ve heard about you. Buddy of mine works at Empire State and he showed me your paper, it was really good.” You were still shocked that he had even read it and here he was talking to you about it. You went back and forth talking about nano-technology.

On the way home, you and Peter talked and laughed about things you told him as you caught him up to what was happening on campus when he couldn't be there. It was a really fun night, and Peter was more noticeably relaxed now that the hard part was over. “Alright, home sweet home,” Happy announced through the window.

“Well, that’s me,” you smiled sadly, not wanting the night to end. You reached to open the door but Peter climbed out from his side. He walked around to open your door and just like he did earlier, held his hand out for you to grab and assist you out the limo. What was different this time was that he kept his hand in yours as he walked you to the door of the apartments. “I had a great time with you tonight,” Peter confessed.

“Me too,” your voice was soft and low for only him to hear. Peter’s eyes switched from looking into yours to your lips before he grabbed your face with both hands and kissed you. The kiss was needy, passionate, but had a certain gentleness to it. Once he felt you kiss him back with the same fervor, he deepened the kiss and brought one hand to pull your waist closer to him.

You pulled apart to regain your breath and looked to admire his swollen lips and he copied the same notion. He leaned in to give you a gentle kiss and pulled away, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Peter.” Your cheeks were flushed and your face was warm. You watched him as he left and ran inside. Upstairs in your apartment, you found MJ and Ned sitting on the couch with a bag of chips in each of their hands.

“Good night?” Ned asked. You just nodded and walked slowly to your room.

“We saw the whole thing, by the way,” MJ said nonchalantly. You looked back to glare at your best friends, Ned smiling innocently at you and MJ keeping her straight face.

You changed into your pajamas and laid on your bed on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You couldn't wait to go back to work on Monday.

—

requests open!

[x-ladyathena-x]

Free

Dean Winchester x Reader

Multi-POV (mostly reader POV with some Dean POV mixed in for clarity and understanding of the situation)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fluffy Smut, Smutty Smut, idiots in love

Word count: 4k - Buckle in, it’s a long one! (that’s what she said?)

Summary: An evening at the bunker planning your next hunt takes a romantic & steamy turn as you and Dean confess your feelings for each other.

You’d just finished a hunt and made it back to the bunker. Tired and exhausted, you see Dean at his computer, probably researching the next job.

“Welcome back, Sunshine!” he yells across the massive room, eyes never leaving his computer screen.

You roll your eyes at the pet name, but laugh at the same time. “Smartass.” You mumble under your breath at him.

“Aww, you’re the sweetest, y/n” Dean smirks at you with his goofy fake cheesy grin.

After a little playful banter back and forth, you unload your gear and slump down into a chair at the table that Dean is sitting at with his laptop.

“whew! I’m beat.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean Drains the last bit of the beer he’d been sipping on and gets up for another. He holds up his empty bottle, “want one?”

“yeah, grab me one too.” You say, thinking about the ice-cold deliciousness awaiting you.

Dean walked back to where you were seated. You’d pulled out your laptop by this point and had started running a map spread.

He walked up, opened your beer for you and presented it to you like a waiter in a fancy restaurant would present a bottle of Champaign. “Your beverage, ma’am.” Dean says with a slight bow.

You laugh and take the beer. While you throw your head back, savoring that first sip, you don’t notice Dean watching you with a little smile on his face from having made you laugh.

You set your beer down. “Ok, come look at this.” You say. You’ve got the map pulled up on your screen.

Dean comes up behind you. He places one arm on the back of your chair, the other balancing his weight on the table. You’re acutely aware of how close he is to you. Your body stills. The world around you slows, moving in slow motion. You can feel him hovering right over your shoulder and it feels like an electric charge coursing through your skin.

You swallow. “Right here.” You say, pointing to the screen. “we’ve got intel on vamp nests; here, here, there, and way over here. I think we should begin with this one.” You say pointing to the blue dot. “But I’m not sure when we should hit the others.”

Dean leans forward. He moves his hand from the back of the chair to your shoulder. His fingers graze the skin of your exposed neck. He points to the screen with the other hand. “Well green would definitely make sense to hit after blue. But, as for red and yellow? Shouldn’t make much of a difference which of those we hit after that.” His hand was still on your shoulder and he gave it a quick squeeze. “See? Easy as pie!”

He stopped, hesitating, and looked down at where his hand was. His eyes suddenly became hungry.

Dean slowly began trailing his fingers along the exposed skin on your neck. You leaned into his touch, his hands – his hands! You could feel the strength and power in them at their touch. Oh, that rough touch. It set every molecule in your body humming. When you let out a small groan of pleasure, you could have sworn you felt deans body waver for a moment.

Gently, he moves a wisp of hair that had fallen down the nape of your neck. Taking his time, he allowed his fingers to brush through your hair, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shudder and bring in a short gasp of breath at the light, deliberate touch. Gah… this man could bring you to your knees with one touch. Just melt you into a puddle.

Umm, wake up, y/n! you think to yourself. You’re a badass hunter. Humans and creature alike literally fear your name! And here you are melting at the touch of (of all people) Dean effin Winchester… Ugh, get it together, y/n!

You’d never told anyone but you actually really liked Dean. A lot. He’d been on your mind more than usual lately. Maybe it was all the time you two had been spending together? He was fun and funny. And Charming… Oh yea, charming. So charming he just loved charming his way into the pants of every girl he met. You felt your teeth clench at the thought.

Am I jealous? Is this jealousy? You think to yourself. Jealous… jealous of what? Nothing. Something? You didn’t know why you felt that way. Dean wasn’t yours, after all. You knew he only saw you as a friend. Someone to joke around with, hang out with on your days off. He’s made moves on other girls. If he were interested in you, he’d have tried to make a move already. But he hadn’t. Just a little light hearted flirting, but you knew that was his personality. So that’s that. But- but, this?

What was this? What was happening right now?

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, resting his forehead against your hair. A deep sigh and the soft flutter of eyelashes tells you that he closed his eyes as he breathes in your scent.

Was this it? Was he making his move? The feel of his face nuzzled in your neck lit a fire burning in your belly. Him. You wanted him. Needed him. And his body language suggested that he wanted you just as bad.

“Dean...” you say breathlessly.

“y/n, I- “

The sound of your name brings you back to your senses somehow.

Making his move. You think to yourself. On you? Who does he think you are?! Some tramp from the bar? How can this man both infuriate and arouse you all at the same time?! This was starting to feel like an emotional roller coaster that you wanted to get off of.

You clear your throat and decide to lay down the law. You needed to let him know that playing around wasn’t your thing. And, of all people, he should know that about you, ugh.

“I’m not one of your conquests. Another one-nighter. So, if that’s what you’re after, you can pump the breaks before you start any of your trusty old sweet talk like honey dripping from your lips.” Mmm… his lips… Snap back to earth, y/n!

He’s smooth, you give him that. And as bad as you’d love to throw him down right here and fuck his brains out, you gather your senses and realize that your self-respect and dignity are more important. But, oh… those lips. The high road sucks.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and continue, “I, unlike your long list of hit-em-and-quit-em’s, am a lot of hard work. I require dedication and respect.” You spat the last word out a little more icily than you meant to, but you were seething at the thought of his hands being on anyone else.

Did he just screw some rando less that twelve hours ago? You don’t know. Probably. You clench your fist at the thought.

Dean moves suddenly. Swiftly. Like the predator you know him to be out in the field while hunting. Taking you by surprise, he kneels beside you, grabbing both your hands, turning you sideways in the chair to face him. He looks up at you with deep sadness in his eyes.

“Y/n, I- I haven’t. N-not once. Not since I- I realized…”

-----

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore; he couldn’t bear to hear the heartbreak in y/n’s voice. And he did hear it. Even though she tried to cover it; lacing every word with venom. He could still hear it. And it broke him inside.

What makes him good enough to deserve someone like y/n? She was way better off without a messy relationship with him. A relationship that would inevitably end in heartbreak. Heartbreak for one of them. Because in this life, the life of a hunter, having your heart ripped to shreds by the loss of a loved one was part of the reality. He was so scared to allow himself something good.

Good? Why do I deserve good? He thought. Maybe death and loss are part of everyone’s reality. Maybe, just maybe he was making the pain worse by fighting this… Maybe she, like him, was also scared. Would she even feel the same if he told her? What would he say? That he’d been in love with her for, well, he wasn’t sure when it happened. They’d always playfully flirted with each other. Sometimes she stole his beer, took a few sips, and handed it back. He liked the idea of putting his lips where hers had been. Dean imagined about how she would taste. He- he needed to tell her. Tell her everything.

Why was he making himself so miserable? This had to end, he was being stupid. It was his own fault for not confessing sooner. Dean gathered his courage. In one fluid motion, taking y/n by surprise, he knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and turned her body to face him.

Dean looked up at y/n. There it was. A mixture of torment, sadness, and longing. All weakly camouflaged by an icy look in her eyes.

“Y/n, I-“ Dean froze. I, what? Come on, spit it out, man! You’ve got this. “I haven’t.” Haven’t what?! Words. What are words? “N- not once. Not since I- I realized…” shit. Dean froze again as y/n’s breath quickened. Her eyes wide, listening to him speak. Her nails unknowingly digging into his palms in nervous anticipation of what he was trying to say. Why couldn’t he just spit it out?!

-----

You feel your pulse racing. You’re hanging on to every word pouring from those perfect lips. Every. Word. As your gaze dances across painfully beautiful green eyes, your expression softens.

“Not since I realized I love you.” Dean finishes in a low, rough voice.

Your breath catches in your throat. Is this real? Are you breathing? Did Dean just say what you think you heard him say?

“Y/n, I love you. And I have for a long time now.”

You release a big breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Gently you lift his rough hands up to your mouth, brushing your lips across his calloused knuckles.

Unable to speak, you keep your hands on his as he reaches up to your cheek to wipe away a single tear. Am I crying?! You think to yourself. Apparently. Yes. The rush of emotion and relief that you’re feeling, knowing that he feels the same way that you feel keeps you tongue tied.

Your reaction to his words was the catalyst Dean needed to keep going. He continued, “I love you. I haven’t been with anyone for a while now. Not since I realized that you were right in front of me the whole time. Exactly what I’ve been searching for.” Dean was on both knees by this point.

As if Dean were searching for the next words he wanted to say, his head dropped down against his hands (which were still holding yours in your lap) and he drew a shuddering breath.

You could feel his soft hair against your leg. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?! As he composes himself, you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. His head jolts up at your touch. You smile at him, “I love you too, Dean. I just never knew you felt the same. Why are you only telling me now? Why hide it for so long?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lose you.” He whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Hurt me? Uh, didn’t ya think this whole ‘apparent unrequited love’ thing was killing me too?” you say sarcastically with a smirk. But in truth, that wasn’t fair to Dean. Because he didn’t know how you felt either. You’d never told him. Sure, you always flirted with each other and you found him insanely attractive and hot. Especially when he got protective over you during a hunt, or some creep at the bar. How many nights did the two of you stay up laughing at each other’s stupid jokes and throwing back a few beers? You’d always enjoyed each other’s company.

You repeat yourself, but softer this time, with longing in your voice. “Why now, Dean? Please. Tell me.”

“Because I was tired of denying myself the one good thing that ever came into my life.” He said heatedly. “Because I can’t think when I’m around you. You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, y/n. I can’t sleep without thinking of you. I can’t eat, hell, I can’t even put a beer to my lips without wishing it was you that I had at my lips. I want. No. I need you in my life. By my side. I need to - taste you. Breathe you. Y/n, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. I see it in your eyes, I see the way you look at me. And I’m scared shitless of how deep these feelings go. This-“ Dean gestured between the two of you, “Is something that I never even knew it was possible to feel.

Without skipping a beat, Dean put his hand behind your head and pulled you into his lips. It was a tender kiss. Gentle, soft. You could feel the fire growing inside you. He felt so good. Your hands found the stubble on either cheek as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and found yours.

The kiss became more forceful, and full of need. You didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t stop. If it did stop, that may be the end of the world as you know it.

Dean stood, pulling you up with him as he wrapped both arms tight around your waist. He began running his hands over every surface of your body he could reach. He pulled you flush with his body, never breaking apart your lips. You could feel the heat radiating off him. You ran your hands down his powerfully muscular back. This. This man. Him. Dean. Dean is what you want.

Dean broke the kiss apart. “I love you, y/n. I love you so damn much it hurts.” He said, his voice breaking.

“I love you too, Dean.” You say, smiling up at his face, tangling your fingers in his hair.

With a small grunt, Dean lifts you up by your ass and you instinctually wrap your legs around his hips. You feel a growing bulge in his jeans. You pull his face back in to yours. You can’t think straight, you want him so bad, you can taste it. Your core is aching with need. The need for him growing more intense. Only he can quench this fire burning you up.

Dean carries you clumsily down the hall to your room. Your arms still entwined around each other, holding each other together, holding the universe together.

Once inside Dean puts you down and you both stand there, staring at each other, breathing heavily. You both suddenly fly towards each other. Grabbing and pulling clothes, pulling each other’s lips down hard on your own. You unbutton Deans blue jeans and he unclasps your bra. Your t shirt and shorts long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

The feeding frenzy of ripping each other’s clothes off slows to a savory pace as you tug and pull off Deans pants, leaving nothing to hold down the massive tent in Dean’s boxers.

He pulls the straps of your bra from your shoulders, slowly. When the cold air hits your nipples, they perk instantly Dean lets out a sharp hiss. “Oh, y/n.” He teases the soft flesh. First with his thumb, then with his mouth. As you feel his tongue against your skin, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His eyes dart up to your face. He lifts his head and softly kisses you on the mouth. “I would love nothing more than to throw you onto this bed and fuck you senseless right now.” Dean said with a growl, but then his expression softened. “But if this is too much, we can stop. You’re in charge… as per usual.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you playfully smack him on the arm, grinning.

“Hey now!” you say laughing, “I’m not always in charge when we do hunts.”

Dean rolls his eyes and says sarcastically, “Yea, ok. Sure…”

You lean in and plant a kiss on his neck, “Well, I guess – since – I’m the one – in charge,” you say playfully between kisses. Trailing them down his chest and belly, stopping at his boxers. His erection obvious. “Then, I’ll accept nothing less than-“, you pull his boxers down revealing his full length. You flash your eyes up to his. He’s hungrily watching you, “-being fucked senseless.” You say as you take him into your mouth.

-----

She was so fucking beautiful. Perfect. The most perfect thing he’d ever seen. As y/n started bringing her kisses down his torso, Dean could feel his erection stiffen even harder. When she stopped to pull down his boxers, he could feel his shaft weeping with anticipation.

He was so worried that he had crossed a line earlier. It totally took him by surprise that y/n wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

“Well, I guess, since I’m the one in charge, I’ll accept nothing less than being fucked senseless.” Y/n said as she looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Damn! She was so hot. Dean had never been this riled up by anyone before. Oh, if that’s what you want, Baby, then that’s what I’m gonna-

Dean wasn’t able to finish his thought stream. Y/n had taken his whole length into her mouth. “Oh FUCK!” Dean screamed out, grabbing y/n by the hair. He slowly began to guide her head at the pace he wanted. Her tongue, her mouth, her! She was about to make him come already. Dean pulled himself out of her mouth. “Bed. Now.” He commanded with a sly smile.

Y/n laughed, “whatever you say, Baby.” As she climbed onto the bed, she did a dramatically slow striptease style crawl that made Dean’s erection throb.

Dean crawled up her body, kissing every inch of her he could reach. Y/n made a little pleasurable whine as dean kissed her thighs while he pulled down her lacy black thong. Her center was absolutely dripping wet. Dean wanted to live between those perfect thighs. Spend years there, never come back to reality. Was time even moving at all? What day is it? What year is it? He didn’t care. None of those things mattered. None of it mattered because he had his y/n. His. Mine.

The only thing that existed was the two of them.

Dean dove his face between y/n’s thighs to her soft center. She tasted like Spring sunshine. Dean took his time, savoring every shudder that ran through her perfect body. Every gasp, scream, and moan that came out of her perfect mouth. She was getting close to coming.

-----

Your whole body is on the brink. Every move dean makes brings you closer to the edge. You need this release and you need Dean to give it to you. You feel yourself climbing, building, then suddenly – the earth shatters around you. You scream “Dean! Oh, DEAN!”

Dean keeps going while you ride out the high, he slowly brings you back down. You sigh, “Dean that- that was- I-“ you have no words. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say because he smiles.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart and core flutter at his words.

He climbs between your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance. You place your hands on his hips and start to guide him in. With one smooth powerful thrust, he slides his whole length inside you, filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. You both gasp. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

His pumps start slow at first, then become more deliberate, more powerful. You love the protectively dominate power he radiates as he’s on top of you. Dean is a MAN. And he feels good. He feels so damn good. You start to feel yourself building again to what you knew would be another earth-shattering orgasm.

Dean found his rhythm and savored every movement, every stroke. He could stay here for ages.

As you feel yourself building, your need for him grows stronger. Dean... He was yours. And you were greedy for more of him. As his rhythm quickened, you dug your nails into his ass pulling his thrusting hips toward you with more force at each thrust. He catches the hint.

Without ever breaking the two of you apart, he flips you over onto all fours and doesn’t hold back. His urgency makes you cry out in pleasure. “Baby, yes! That’s it!”

“You want more? You want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before?”

“YES!” you scream, reaching around and slapping his thigh. That does it. He unleashes himself. You hear him roar with pleasure, holding onto you so tightly, pulling you against him so fast and hard. The sound of flesh slapping echoed around the room mixed with both your cries of pleasure.

“Baby, I’m about to come!” you pant.

“Come on. Come for me Baby.” Dean says breathlessly. “I want to know that I’m the one to make you come.”

-----

Dean was talking out of his mind in the throes of ecstasy. The thought of y/n coming… of him coming inside her, was throwing him over the edge. Just as he felt himself going over, he felt y/n tighten around him.

-----

Just as you feel Dean twitching inside you, you feel yourself tighten around him. The sheer power of your shared climax hit you both like a freight train.

When you felt him pull out, you felt empty with his warmth gone. Dean lays back on the pillows and pulls you into his arms. You settle yourself in the warmth and comfort of his body. Dean absent mindedly plays with your hair as you lay your head on his chest and you both breathe heavily while you float back down to reality.

“Dean?” you say softly.

“Mmm?”

“That was amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

Dean chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Glad I could be of service.”

He’s such a smartass, you think to yourself laughing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you either.” You say, picking up your conversation from earlier. “I know I’m partly to blame for this dance we’ve been doing around each other for - who knows how long.”

“No, you were right. I should have just nutted up and told you how I felt. It just crushes me to think that I was causing you pain because you thought I was seeing other people.”

You absent mindedly draw circles on his chest with your finger. “I don’t know, I suppose we’re both to blame. I mean, look at this mind-blowing sex we could have been having all this time.”

This coaxes a real laugh out of Dean, and you feel his chest moving up and down from the laughter. But then he stops and you see a seriousness wash over his face. The same pain you saw in his eyes earlier, but maybe – perhaps you are imaging it – less pain, more - hope?

“I meant everything I said earlier.” Dean says in a husky, deep voice. “I am scared shitless to lose you, or to know that I’d be the source of your pain if you ever lost me. I mean, hell we’re hunters, we know how this ends eventually.” Still holding you tight, Dean continues, “I guess, If I’ve got one life to live, even if it’s a short one, I want you by my side. Always. I want you. All of you. The sassy you. The smartass you. The bossy you. The…” he paused to run his thumb across your lips, “The incredibly sexy you that I can’t keep my hands off of.” Dean smiles “I didn’t know that happiness like this, or these – feelings - were even possible to feel. And that’s just it. You made me feel. You pulled me out of a darkness that I didn’t even know I was in. You made me – free.”

[mdawritings]

“Arrested” [Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader]

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: E

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader

Wordcount: 8,510

Summary: 

The BAU is working a case in the DC area: an unsub killing women outside of nightclubs and bars. When you get arrested and manage to end up in the same precinct as Aaron Hotchner, the team discovers that their unit chief has been sleeping with a MUCH younger woman. Even more importantly, they discover that aside from being Hotch's fuck buddy, you have had direct contact with the unsub. Told through cute and smutty flashbacks throughout your relationship with Aaron.

AO3 Link

It had been weeks since you’d seen Aaron. The first week you didn’t see him was because of a case over the weekend in Florida. You had sent him a few scandalous pictures while he was flying home…

You rest your head against the arm of your sofa lazily. You reach for the phone and look at the simple text from Aaron. “On the way home now. I want to see you soon.” Just those words send bolts of happiness, excitement, and arousal through you. You press the top of your phone to your lips to suppress your growing smile. You text him back.

“Been imagining your hands touching me instead of my own”

Aaron picks up his phone at the chime. He reads the message from you and can’t help but start to stir a little. God, the thoughts of you home alone… touching yourself thinking about him. Yeah, that definitely does something to him. It’s not like you weren’t in his thoughts the entire time. It's difficult to focus on a case when all he really wants is to be home, buried under the covers with you, taking in your light, yet intoxicating perfume. Touching your soft, perfect skin. Hearing you scream his name… He almost lets out a moan but catches himself and looks around the jet at his sleeping coworkers.

He quickly replies to your message, “Oh yeah?”

You jump up from the couch, exhaustion rapidly dissipating from your previously sore limbs at the thought of seeing Aaron tonight. Memories of his large hands touching, groping, squeezing your body flood into your mind.

You hurry to slip on the purple lingerie set you bought. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror. You take a few minutes, capturing some, quite honestly, fucking amazing photos.

“Missing the feeling of you buried inside me” You send the photos along. You grow even happier at the thought of him getting a fucking hard-on while just a few feet away from his sleeping coworkers. You revel in the effect you manage to have over such a powerful, dominant, authoritative man. It makes you especially proud to think about his normal demeanor, stoic, hard-faced, serious, and how easy it is for you to reduce him to simpering, whimpering, moaning mess under your touch. Your phone chimes a mere seconds after sending the photos.

“You are torturing me. We HAVE to see each other when I land”

You fell asleep in your bed in that lingerie waiting for him. You didn’t see his messages until the next morning, saying the sitter for Jack fell through and he probably wouldn’t be able to see you until next weekend.

At the start of the second week, he got called away to a case in California. That one took up the whole week and by the time he got home, he was way too exhausted to spend time with you.

This kind of thing went on for two weeks. A full month without Aaron had been torture. It wasn’t like you expected him to drop everything and come running to you. You understand he has a kid to take care of and an FBI unit to run. Plus, it isn’t like you two are really dating. Do you sometimes wish you were? Hell yes. Is it reasonable or feasible? Absolutely not.

That doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy what you have going on right now. He comes over to your place, tired and frustrated from a long day at work, and he— well he fucks your brain out. You’re always working hard on your Ph.D. and Aaron’s job is just plain stressful. You both need and enjoy the amazing stress relieving benefits of casual sex. You do enjoy each other’s company without having sex sometimes. It usually happens on those weekends when you or he or both of you are way too exhausted. But really, it's the moments after sex that make you question what you truly are to one another…

Your heart rate begins to steady and you can’t help but smile up at Aaron. He looks down at you with that small Hotchner version of a smile. It’s a smile that wouldn’t seem like much to anyone else, but you know how infrequently he lets the corners of his mouth turn up in happiness. “How do you do it?”

You soon realize after letting the words out, (and from the confusion on his face), that he cannot, in fact, read your mind and understand what you mean, “How do you go from seeing all that bad out there in the world to lying in this bed with me with that adorable smile on your face?”

For a split second, you think you’ve said something wrong. The smile falls from his face and his brows tense up. You always tease him about his eyebrows, telling him the more he frowns the more wrinkles he’ll get.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to cross a line—”

“I don’t want to pull you into all this… my work. I want to protect you from it.” Your heart practically sinks into your stomach. That’s not the type of language you use with your casual sex partner. Then again, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he leaves for a case. You worry that you’ll never see him again. You won’t even find out he’s dead because no one knows about the two of you.

“Y/N,” he pulls you out of your thoughts. His voice cuts through the silent room and you look back up into his soft eyes. They’re searching your face, scanning your behavior. You can tell he’s trying to figure out what you could possibly be thinking.

“Stop doing that,” you warn him, but your tone is light-hearted, “That whole studying my behavior thing you do.”

“Profiling,” he corrects you and runs a hand over your hair. The action is like a natural reflex for him, he’s not even consciously aware he’s pulling you closer to him.

“Right. That. Stop profiling me,” you laugh.

“Well, how am I supposed to know what’s spinning around in your head when you zone out like that.”

“I’m thinking about the fact that you listen to me rattle on and on about statistical physics but you don’t talk about your job.”

“You need to stop talking about physics after sex. It makes me feel like I’m sleeping with Reid,” he laughs and notices your confusion, “He’s a coworker of mine. You’d like him.”

You’d like him. That phrase sticks with you. Does that mean he wants you to meet his coworkers someday?

You’re not sure why you and Aaron never discuss a real relationship. Well, it’s more like Aaron never discusses a real relationship. Aaron doesn’t really discuss anything. The first time you really talked to him you thought his closed-off nature was charming, dreamy…

“Aaron Hotchner… right?” You look over the man who has just walked up to the bar next to you.

He reaches for the beers he’s just ordered, obviously for a group, but stops as you call out his name, “I’m sorry do I know you?”

“You work for the FBI… Behavioral something unit.” Your laugh sounds loud and obnoxious to you, but to him, it’s bright and cuts through the din of the chaotic bar.

“Behavioral Analysis Unit,” Aaron’s eyebrows furrow. He looks you over before turning his attention back to your face, searching it for answers.

“Oh god!” You're not really the type to strike up a conversation with a man in a bar but you’re feeling bold, not to mention empowered by the liquor, “I must seem so crazy. You gave a talk at Georgetown I attended. I’m a Ph.D. student there. It was about criminal psychology.” His face softens as he begins to realize you’re not a crazy stalker nor an obsessed fan. You stick your hand out for him to shake, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, again, I guess,” He nods as he shakes your hand. You can tell he’s just trying to be polite and he glances over his shoulder at a group of people at a booth. Their eyes are all on you two. He wants to go back but something about you is drawing him in. “So you’re pursuing a Ph.D. in psychology?” He moves to sit at the bar next to you.

“Actually no.” You feel flush rushing into your face as he moves closer to you and sits down. You can’t help but look over his body. He’s much closer to your height now that he’s sitting down. He’s wearing a black quarter zip and dark jeans. His hair is neatly gelled back. He does not fit into this atmosphere. “I’m getting a Ph.D. in physics. I conduct theoretical research on the experimental implementation of quantum computing with trapped ions in— I conduct research.” Your blush deepens.

Aaron smiles widely at your ranting before jumping in, “So what were you doing in a criminal psychology lecture?”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment, “I snuck in. It sounded interesting.” You shrug slightly and reach for the drink from the bartender. “I almost didn’t show up, but then a classmate told me one of the FBI agents was very attractive.” You give a small wink before reaching for your check for your drinks from the night. “And she was right, Agent Prentiss is drop-dead gorgeous.” Your attempts to keep a poker face fail, your lips curling with delight.

Aaron laughs as he takes the check from your hands. “You don’t have to—” You protest slightly but Aaron holds up his hand to silence you.

“My treat. As a thank you, for breaking the rules to see my lecture.” He shares in your smile as he hands the bartender his card, paying for your drinks. Your ex just broke up with you a few weeks prior so you came out to cheer yourself up. Seeing Aaron Hotchner up close and personal is… definitely a pick me up.

“Do you have a business card or something?”

“Uh… yes.” Aaron is hesitant to hand it over but reaches into his wallet for one. You grab a pen and take the business card from Aaron. You scribble down your number on the back and hand it to him.

“This is my number.” You hold it out before reaching for your purse. He looks down at the number and then back up at you. For a grown, adult man, he doesn’t seem to understand. You can see confusion written all over his face, it’s quite adorable honestly. His face though it seemingly remains emotionless, in just the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him, you see hints of smiles hidden under a professional, powerful exterior.

“Call me sometime. You know, so I can pay you back for that drink.” You stand up from the bar, legs weak from the heavy drinking you’ve done, “Or if you just want some company.” He nods slightly in response and you turn to leave. You can’t help but turn for a second to watch as Aaron walks back to his table of what appear to be friends. One of the women looks back at you and smiles the most infectious, sweetest smile at you. You return it and move to leave the bar.

It wasn’t until late that night that you got a call. The drinking your sorrows away didn’t stop once you left that bar. You were curled up on your couch, a glass of wine clutched in your hands.

“Hello?” you mumble into the phone, pulling the blanket around your shoulders tighter.

“We didn’t really get to talk much at the bar, but I’m pretty sure you made some promises about paying me back for that drink,” A stern man’s voice cuts through the phone.

“Aaron?” you ask momentarily confused, “It—It’s late, are you drunk?”

Your laugh rings through the phone and it’s that laugh that has Aaron so intensely drawn to you. He can’t help himself. He needs to be near you, “Just go to the door.”

You stand up, “My door? How did you get my—oh right. FBI agent,” you muse and open your door. And there he is, standing at the door with the phone pressed to his ear. He pulls it away and hangs up. “This is incredibly creepy, I hope you know that.” You lean against the doorframe, pulling your large sweater around yourself tighter. His eyes run over you. You grin slightly, catching his wandering gaze, and at that, he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“So about that drink you owe me.” Aaron takes a few hesitant steps into your apartment. He closes the door behind him, “How about you pay me back wit—” he starts to talk but you don’t let him finish his sentence. You grip his shirt and pull him close, your lips melting against his.

It’s messy and passionate and needy. You struggle to stumble along, guiding him towards your bedroom and his hands are touching every inch of you. He hurriedly pulls your sweater off and tosses it off to the side before unzipping your dress. You let it fall to the floor and kick it off as you match his frantic pace, pulling off his shirt and pushing down his jeans. He lays you down gently and reaches around to unclasp your bra.

“Holy fuck,” Aaron groans as he takes a second to take in your naked body.

Then he’s leaving a trail of soft kisses down the expanse of your chest and breasts. He travels down further. His lips brush against your inner thighs, his stubble tickling your skin. He smirks up at you wickedly as he grips your thong in his teeth, pulling it down your legs. You already know your soaking wet pussy will give away just how bad you want him right now.

He doesn’t hesitate, he goes to work on you. Licking and stroking and rubbing your clit. Your back arches and you grip the sheets and his hair. You massage your breasts, panting heavily as two of his fingers press into you, his tongue flicking your overly sensitive bud of nerves. “Oh god, Aaron yes!”

His name rolls off your tongue and you continue to chant it like a fucking mantra as his somehow rough yet gentle touch drives you wild. You feel the knots building in your stomach. Your legs tremble with pleasure as your eyes shut harshly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You’re panting intensely at this point and the whole room practically slips away as your orgasm hits and your body feels out of control. Every nerve ending on fire. And Aaron is merciless, he continues to lick and tease as you ride out your high.

He can’t help but grin proudly at the number he’s done on you. As he comes up to plant a few more kisses on your lips, you feel his rock hard erection pressing against your thigh. You kiss him hungrily while fumbling to stroke him through his boxers.

The groan the emerges from his lips is… holy fucking shit it’s sexy. You flip the two of you over so you’re on top of him, your chest pressed against his. You dip your hand into his boxers, pumping the entirety of his length. You feel him getting harder and his cock twitches in conjunction with a loud, throaty groan. “Y/N." His eyes flutter open and he grabs your arm to still your motions. “I need you, now.”

Within seconds he’s peeling his boxers off, you roll the condom down onto him and you slam your hips down on his. You can’t contain the loud gasps and moans as you feel your walls stretch around him. Fuck it’s been too long since you’ve had sex. You’re still for a second and Aaron bucks his hips, needing friction, needing to thrust and feel your tightness around him.

“Oh god." Your eyes are practically rolling back in your head as Aaron takes an agonizing pace, lifting your hips all the way up just to slam them all the way back down again.

He has a vice grip on your hips and you can feel the bruises forming under his fingertips. You grind your hips against his as you ride him faster. “Fuck you feel amazing,” Hotch lets out another one of those agonizingly sexy groans.

“I’m close,” you whine out. Aaron reaches to rub your clit with his thumb as he starts thrusting his hips up to meet yours chaotically. That combined with his large cock hitting your sweet spot sends you tumbling over the edge once again. It’s not long after that you feel his cock throbbing deep inside you, his hips messily thrusting and his face contorted up in pleasure. His panting becomes rapid and it's not long before he’s coming undone inside you. You flip off of him to collapse at his side on the bed.

“So when are we doing this again?” you pant heavily and hear a beautiful sound beside you. The sound of Aaron laughing.

Sometimes you worry if he’s embarrassed by you. I mean, you’re a few years shy of 20 years younger than him. You’re still in school. He was starting college by the time you were out of diapers. He runs a whole goddamn unit of the FBI and you’re still a student. You both are in entirely separate places in life, how do you reconcile that? It’s not as if he keeps you secret. Jessica knows you and you met his son Jack one time. Besides, you’re not really showing him off either. Not that you have many people to show him off to.

Like said, it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him which has just left you to sit around and overthink just about everything.

Aaron is working a case in DC. You saw the news reports the other day. Women were turning up dead in alleyways behind popular nightclubs and bars in the downtown area. Despite this horrifying news, you were happy when he told you the case was at home. It meant less travel. Less travel means Aaron is less tired. Which means more sex for you. And god, did you need sex.

It’s your friend’s 27th birthday and in an attempt to keep her from crying about getting a year older, you and a group of friends promised to go out drinking with her. You reach for your phone to check for any messages from Aaron. You would drop all your plans if he told you he was coming over tonight. There is one new message but it’s not exactly the text you were hoping for.

From: Aaron:

Please be safe for the next few days. Don’t go anywhere alone. Call me if there’s any trouble or if you need anything at all.”

You furrow your brows. It’s not news that Aaron cares about you and wants to look out for you but usually while on a case it’s radio silence from him. Yes, if you were really in danger he would want you to call immediately, but usually, he tells you he needs to focus on the job and nothing else. You dismiss the text, chalking it up to the presence of a serial killer in the city you both live in. Hell, you were pretty freaked out too. You had seen the girls on the news, 20-30, with your hair color and around your height.

You let out a long sigh, knowing you are most definitely not getting laid tonight. It’s time to get stupid drunk with your friends and enjoy your night anyway.

It does not take long for you and all your friends to reach the perfect level of sloppy drunk. Seeing as you all haven’t been out in months, what with some of you pursuing real jobs, grad school, med school, and whatnot, there hasn’t been a lot of time for screwing around as you did in college.

“So come on! You cannot still be single,” your close friend Sarah screams in your face over the music.

“It’s complicated,” you feel your words starting to string together. They’re not quite slurred but it’s getting there, “He just comes over, fucks my brains out, we spend some time together, and then it’s over.”

Your comments provoke a loud response of laughs and cheers from your friends, “So we don’t even get a name? Or a job? Or where you met him?”

“He guest lectured a course on abnormal and criminal psychology a few months ago,” You start to explain but Sarah is cutting you off before the words have left your mouth.

“Months? This has been going on for months?” You roll your eyes. The bartender places another full tray of shots in front of you guys. She nods towards a man at the edge of the bar. As you look up, he gives you a small wave and smiles. Creepy.

“No, I ran into him a few weeks after and I just gave him my number.” You down the shot, souring your face up before reaching for a lime wedge to chase it, “And then things just happened.”

“Name? Job? Age?” Another friend rattles off at you.

“Isn’t this Sarah’s birthday? Shouldn’t we be talking about her?” You try and steer the conversation away from yourself. You turn back to the bar and see that same man who sent you the shots staring at you. Even when you turn away you can feel his eyes boring into the back of your head.

“Well I want to know, so this is a birthday present,” she continues to pry and it drives you crazy. You're just not ready to share what you and Aaron have with the world.

“His name is Aaron and he works in the FBI and he’s 45,” You mumble that last part into your glass as you take a long sip.

“He’s how old?” Your friend’s jaw drops and another friend grins widely. Your face is burning hot at embarrassment and all the attention.

“Can we all just shut up and drink?” you command forcefully before downing your own.

Hotch looks down at his phone, waiting for any sign that Y/N has seen his text. He doesn’t panic though. She has a life, she’s busy. She probably has plans for the evening. Maybe she’s out… with someone. Aaron shakes his head slightly before forcing his attention to the case. But his mind wanders. Would she go out with someone? It’s not like anything between them is defined. I mean, he would never go out with anyone else. He just wants her. If she wants to go out on a date she can do whatever she wants. Yet, Hotch can’t help but feel the jealousy coursing through his body. The idea of someone else touching her… yeah, that makes him angry.

His more rational thinking takes over. Maybe she’s busy with school work. He knows how hard she’s been working on her research. He fails to hide a smile as he thinks about the way her face lights up when talking about her research. The passion she has for her work is extremely adorable...

You hear three short raps at the door, “It’s open!” you call out as you rush to get all your thoughts down on your computer. You hear the door open and the footsteps approaching.

“You leave your door unlocked? Do you realize how incredibly unsafe and unwise that is?” You can hear that Aaron probably has his stern face on, judging by the disapproval in his voice.

“I knew you were coming,” You shrug and gnaw at your bottom lip furiously as you work, “I just need one moment. I was thinking that in a controlled quantum environment...” As you start to ramble Aaron’s hands snake around your waist. He pushes your hair to the side, placing feather-light kisses along your neck.

“Mm,” He mumbles against you.

“Wait, wait,” you moan, “If you keep doing that I’m going to lose my train of thought and I will never forgive you unless you can formulate how to create thermal distrib—” He nips at your skin and gives your hips a squeeze. Your groans grow louder.

“The physics can wait,” Aaron growls against your skin, turning you around so he can passionately kiss you, “I need you now.”

The panic doesn’t ease because Aaron reaches to call you once again. You don’t pick up because well… you’re a little preoccupied drowning your liver. He thinks, if you had just given a small ok text, he would know you’re safe. But he’s panicking. He continues to panic for the next hour until something unexpected soothes that anxiety. The sound of your screaming drunken voice radiating throughout the entirety of the precinct the team is working in. But as soon as the wave of anxiety dissipates, he feels his stomach drop.

“I’m a victim here!” you screech and cement your legs in place so that the officers holding your arms are practically dragging you.

“Ma’am please!” You kick your legs violently as the officers try to seat you in a chair. They undo your handcuffs and redo them so that your hand is cuffed to the desk. “We’re understaffed and backed up so you sit here and shut up while we get you booked.”

“He was feeling me up! Under the skirt over the panties. He grabbed my ass, I’m sure I have a mark you wanna see it? He assaulted me!” you continue to screech and reach for the hem of your dress, ready to flash every cop in the precinct your ass.

“So you smashed a bottle over his head? Real ladylike,” one of the officers steps forward and holds your hand tight to keep you from lifting the dress.

“Don’t I get a phone call.” Now your words are slurred together. That last round of shots before you got arrested is hitting you hard.

“Once we book you.”

“I know a federal agent. From the FBI,” you spell out the letters obnoxiously, “Do you even know what that is?”

“Yes, I’m sure the federal government will come running to post your bail. Stay here. Don’t move,” the officer commands and you hold up your handcuffed wrist to demonstrate that you’re quite frankly incapable of going anywhere.

“Oh my god,” Prentiss lets out a small laugh from the conference room. “I can hear her through the closed doors.”

“Well, most of this room is glass and sound travels through the glass just about the same as it does air. A better insulating material would be a foam or fiberglass or even a mineral wood composite,” Reid clarifies before giving that signature tight-lipped smile.

“She is… really something,” Morgan laughs and nudges Hotch, “Hotch look.”

Hotch turns and sees what he’s dreading. He sees you, drunk out of your mind. Your skimpy dress is somehow simultaneously riding low on top and riding up on the bottom. You have a small cut lip and a little bit of blood on your dress. His brows furrow deeply. “Oh god,” he mutters under his breath.

“These cops are supposed to stay in the bars and clubs for protection. Why are they wasting time on drunk girls?” Rossi finally chimes in.

The cops finally get you settled into a chair and you kick your feet like a child. “Call the FBI! I know them.”

“Oh does she now. You guys know her?” JJ rolls her eyes and laughs, “I am so glad I never got arrested when I was in college. My parents would’ve killed me.”

“College? Girls do not look like that in college,” Morgan smirks.

“We have to focus on the case,” Hotch's jaw tightens as he sees Morgan look over your body. It’s not something new for Morgan but when he’s making those eyes at you specifically, Hotch feels that surge of jealousy again.

“Call them! Call Agent Aaron Hotchner.” You lean back and try to cross your arms, but your right hand is yanked back by the cuffs.

The team all turns to Hotch with wide eyes. “You know her?” Rossi smirks.

“Where exactly do you know her from?” Emily fights the grin growing on her lips as she looks over her stone-faced boss.

“I’m sorry what?” The cop glances down at you.

“Aaron Hotchner with the Behavioral Unit Analysis Science thing or something like that he’s in the FBI he’s unit chief. I know him.” You roll your eyes at the cop who is speechless, “Oh god. Are you that thick? A-A-R-O-N H-O-T-C-H…” you trail off the alcohol inhibiting your spelling capabilities, “N-E-R. Aaron Hotchner! Call him and he’ll tell you to let me go.”.

The cop glances at some of his coworkers before looking at the conference room. You follow his gaze and see Aaron with a large group of other well-dressed agents. “Oh fuck,” you mutter. Aaron opens the glass doors and steps out of them walking towards you.

“So how does he know this girl?” Prentiss tries her best to hide her spying on you and Aaron.

“I got money on babysitter,” Morgan nods.

“No way, she’d be with Jack right now. I’d say she met him at work." JJ leans against the desk, watching Hotch as he looks down at you, crossing his arms.

“Then we’d all have seen her before. Plus she wouldn’t be telling them she knows the FBI. She would technically be part of the FBI. Why not use that?” Rossi rubs a hand over his goatee.

“He’s sleeping with her,” Reid states simply before turning back to his geographical profile on the board.

“What?” Multiple members of the team turn in shock, not only at the statement but at the fact that Reid is the one making it.

“No way. She’s… at most 27 years old.” Morgan shakes his head, “She is not Hotch’s type.”

“Are you jealous that Hotch has more game than you?” Reid teases without turning away from his work.

“When was your last date, pretty boy? Huh?” Morgan hits him on the back of the head playfully.

“Officer.” Aaron steps in between you and the officer. Good thing, because two more minutes with that guy and you would be charged with a lot more than resisting arrest and public disturbance.

“Aaron!” you squeak, “I didn’t know you were here!”

“Well, she’s definitely not a coworker. She called him Aaron.” Rossi nods at the rest of the team still in the conference room. For a team of profilers, their attempts to hide the spying are weak at best.

“I’ll take care of her.” He doesn’t bother looking at you, but he gives the officer his best unit-chief glare.

“Sir we have a process to go through here. We’re still processing her arrest,” the officer attempts to argue with Hotch but you can see the discomfort clearly in the officer. He struggles to meet Hotch’s eyes.

“Please officer, we have much more to deal with here. I want to find this guy before another body drops. We need you out there patrolling the bars for the guys, not the drunk girls the creeps hit on.” Aaron takes on a stern voice.

“Yes agent.” The cop is visibly annoyed but isn’t willing to get into a fight with a federal agent all over your stupid drunk ass.

“Are you injured? You’re bleeding.” He grabs your chin in his calloused fingers, turning your face from side to side to assess the small cuts. You almost moan into his touch but remember the current location.

“No, no it’s someone else’s.” You turn out of his grip, trying to push his hands off.

“Someone else’s? What did you do?” Fuck. Aaron is furious with you. His arms are crossed against his chest and you can see the veins in his neck standing out. The tone he takes with you is harsh and you’re not used to him speaking with you like that… at least not used to it outside the bedroom.

“It’s not my fault okay!”

Aaron holds the bridge of his nose frustratedly, “Y/N. I have a serial killer to profile, catch, and stop from murdering innocent women. Can I just get the truth?”

“This creepy guy kept sending me and my friends drinks all night so when I went to the bar to get us another round he came over. Things got messy.” You shrug your shoulders. “Can you take off these cuffs now?” You hold out your wrists, pouting out your bottom lip. You can physically see him soften at that.

As Aaron reaches for the key and undoes the cuffs, he shakes his head at the stench of alcohol seeping out of you, “You’re gonna have to do better than things got messy.”

“I just…” You pause, knowing the details of the story are going to make him upset but he wants the truth, “I knew he was a little off. Weird and creepy and pushy, you know?” You rub your irritated wrists, “So he starts talking to me, offering me some drink. I know better than to accept a drink from a stranger so I turned him down. That's when he grabbed my arm and well… tried to cop a feel.”

“Cop a feel?” Aaron’s jaw has tightened and his hands are clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles are pale.

“He slid his hands under my dress.” Your hand ghosts over the sore spot on your bottom where the man dug his fingers into your flesh, “He grabbed my legs and then my ass and then… and then he tried to get his hands in my underwear.” You show Aaron the red marks on your inner thigh. You’re not sure what you expect from him, but his face remains hardened. The only emotion readable on him is anger.

“The blood is from self-defense,” Aaron begins to understand.

You nod, confirming his statement, “I grabbed the first thing I could and smashed him on the head. I think I sliced his eyebrow. By the time the cops came, he was gone and I was in cuffs.”

Aaron looks back at his team in the conference room. In a poor attempt to hide their spying, they all rapidly turn their eyes to their work. He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes looking over the red bruising on your cheek. He fights every urge to reach out and touch you, stroke your face softly and kiss your lips, “Did he hurt you? We should get a medic to check you out or–”

He doesn’t have a second to finish that thought. “Hotch, another body just dropped,” Morgan and Prentiss come rushing out of the conference room, “We’re going to the crime scene now.”

Aaron nods at his team members, “Call me if anything stands out.” The team nods and Aaron reaches for your arm, walking you towards the rest of the team, “I don’t want you alone right now. You’re going to sit here and keep quiet, understand?”

You bite your lip and look around at the team, still pretending as if they’re not listening in, “Jeez way to embarrass me, Aaron,” you mumble under your breath as you drop down into a chair with a loud sigh like a child.

JJ can’t help but come over to talk to you, “I’m Jennifer." You give her your name, "It's so nice to meet you Y/N, how do you and Hotch know each other?”

“Hotch?” you let out before quickly realizing the nickname for Aaron. You shake her hand, “Oh Agent Hotchner and I are just fuc–“

“Friends,” Aaron cuts in, “Y/N and I are friends. We have a case to get back to,” Aaron frantically changes the topic of conversation but your little comment doesn’t go unnoticed by the team members. Even Reid is smiling slightly at your comment.

You sit back in your chair and take in the sight of Agent Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. The confident and commanding energy he exudes is immensely attractive. It’s not long before the agents that left for the crime scene, Morgan and Prentiss return with news for Aaron.

“Sir we found something weird at the crime scene,” Morgan steps back into the room.

“Weird?” Hotch cocks his head slightly to the side.

“There were droplets of blood over the victim’s dress but it wasn’t her own,” Morgan shakes his head.

“But you called and said she had no defensive wounds, he drugged her like the others. How could he have been injured?” Hotch turns back to the other case files.

“We’re not sure,” Emily shakes her head, “It’s possible it’s unrelated but maybe he might have been hospitalized for something recently?”

“What about any witnesses?” Hotch nods, “Any people at Churchkey bar see anything unusual? A man that was a little too forceful with women?”

You snort slightly at that, “I wouldn’t say that’s unusual for a bar.”

Hotch shoots you a hard glare that shuts you up for good, while Prentiss lets a smile shine through.

“The bar was mostly cleared out. Apparently the bar was packed earlier tonight but it cleared out after a bar fight broke out.” Morgan informs the team.

You bite your lip harshly. Aaron told you no talking but… this is more important, right? “Wait, Churchkey bar?” You finally speak up and all the agents turn their attention to you.

“What about it?”

“That’s the bar I was at tonight.” You trail off at the end of your sentence.

“You remember someone or something off?” Rossi looks over your body language.

“I think I talked to the unsub. I think... I’m the one who injured him." You unconsciously wrap your arms tightly around your body.

“You think you could walk me through the night? Tell me about him, it could really help us,” Morgan moves to sit on the edge of the desk to face you. "We could do a cognitive interview." He nods at Hotch.

"A cognitive?" You look between the two men.

"It's a memory recall exercise. We would walk you through the night and you tell us as much as you can," Morgan explains gently.

"And it could help you find him?" You ask, unsure how much you remember about him.

"You might not realize the type of details that help us form the profile." Morgan places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Aaron clears his throat. “She’s not sober enough for a cognitive." You can tell that the fact that his personal life is bleeding into his work is driving him crazy.

“If I can help catch this creep, I want to help. I’m fine.” You touch your finger to your nose a few times in an attempt to demonstrate your sobriety.

“Then you should drink some coffee before we start,” Aaron dismissively addresses you before turning to leave, “And I’m going to want the whole truth.” He stalks off towards the interrogation room.

Rossi runs to catch up with Aaron, pulling him off to the side. “Aaron, you cannot conduct this cognitive.”

“Excuse me?” Aaron snaps, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Take a step back, pretend she’s not someone you clearly care about,” Aaron rolls his eyes at Rossi’s comment but plays along as he continues.

“She’s a young girl… just how young is she?” Rossi raises a brow at Aaron, losing his train of thought.

“Dave.” He lets out an exasperated sigh.

Rossi holds his hands up in defense, “Fine, okay. She’s a young girl, she’s a little drunk, and she’s been sexually harassed in a bar by our unsub. Who do you send in to talk to her?”

“The least intimidating figures to her,” Aaron nods.

“So definitely not the angry boyfriend who wants to kill anyone who touches her,” Rossi clarifies.

“I’ll send in JJ and Prentiss,” Hotch sighs and turns before pausing, “And I’m not her boyfriend.”

Rossi simply smiles and pats Aaron’s back, “Ok boss.”

You sit up in your chair tiredly as Emily and JJ walk into the interrogation room.

“Hi Y/N, I’m Agent Prentiss and you’ve already met Agent Jareau,” Emily sits across from you.

“He can hear us, right?” You bite your lip and look towards the glass.

“Who can hear us?” JJ takes a seat and places a file in front of you.

“Aaron.” You search the glass, knowing that you won’t be able to see him but that he definitely can see you.

“Oh uh-” Emily pauses, unsure what to say in response.

“Do you want more privacy? I can ask the agents to leave.” JJ starts to stand.

“Hearing this would help them figure who the killer is?” You’re gnawing your lip hard enough to draw blood, a nervous habit Aaron never hesitates to point out to you.

“Yes,” JJ sits back down.

“Then it’s fine.” You look over one last time, “Just make sure Aar— Agent Hotchner,” you correct yourself, “Make sure Agent Hotchner doesn’t lose his shit.”

“No promises,” Prentiss smirks and lets out a small breath, “We’re going to walk you through the night. If it gets to be too much you let us know and we’ll take a break, okay?”

Well, now you’re really nervous. You let out a small breath, “Okay.” You close your eyes as Agent Prentiss starts.

“You’re in the bar. It’s crowded…”

“Y/N I think he really likes you,” your friend Sarah laughs. “Come on go talk to him.”

“No, I really shouldn’t.” You feel dizzy and light on your feet from the alcohol the man has been plying you and your friends with.

“Why?” Another friend chimes in, “Big strong Agent Hotchner going to punish you for talking to another guy?” Your friends taunt you playfully.

You smile widely at them, “Yes, yes he will.”

“You naughty, naughty girl!” Sarah laughs. You feel eyes on you and look back to the man at the bar. He’s hunched over in his stool. He looks nervous, but he smiles sheepishly at you and waves. It’s not long before he’s calling the bartender over again and pointing at you animatedly.

“Next round is on me,” you say softly to your friends, keeping your eyes on the man’s face, memorizing every detail you can. His face is young but worn and tired. The wrinkles on his forehead tell you he frowns a lot. They’re lines that appear on Aaron’s face too. You think about how you tease Aaron about smiling more. God, you miss Aaron right now. You wish he was here to make you feel safe. As you walk up to the bar, your presence causes the man to stand up and move closer.

“I was going to order you and your friends more drinks. I ordered you a vodka soda. It’s what you’ve been drinking all night, right?” He stutters slightly as he talks to you. He slides a glass over to you, but you know better. Strange man... drink that you didn’t see the bartender actually make... no way.

“I was actually going to order a beer,” you try to reject the glass, “You take the vodka soda though. You’ll see why they’ve been my go-to all night. He’s been making them very strong.” You look at the bartender, ordering a beer. You pray that the young bartender senses your discomfort.

“Come on it’s a harmless drink.” The strange man moves into you, pushing the glass closer. “You have the drink, we’ll get to know each other better… you’ll like it. I can make you like it.”

Thinking about his words sends chills down your spine. You have to take a moment to let out a shaky breath.

“Are you sure you want to continue listening to this?” Rossi eyes Hotch. Hotch’s face is contorted so harshly into a mixture of anger, disgust, and sadness. His neck muscles tense, his arms are tightly crossed against his body. He doesn’t even acknowledge Rossi.

“Can you keep going?” JJ eyes your face. You nod.

“No thank you, and no more drinks for my friends and I. We can get our own drinks.” You turn to grab your beer but soon the man stops you. He grabs your wrist tightly, placing his other hand behind your back. He pulls you flush against him. His rough, calloused fingertips grab and scratch up your thighs, under the dress. He grabs your ass so hard you want to scream out. He continues to trail his fingers up, hooking around your panties and—

A sickening shattering noise and cracking erupt as you swing the beer bottle at his head. The man screams. “You bitch!” He slaps your face. You stumble back, falling on the floor, cutting your hands on the broken glass from the bottle. Your skin is sticky with alcohol and you glance down at the blood on your dress. The bar grows louder. The commotion intensifies. You feel a friend’s hands wrap around your arms pulling you up off the ground.

“Wait he—!” You look around for the man but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Not long after that I was being shoved into a cop car and escorted here.” You finally open your eyes and look at the two agents.

“I can make you like it?” Emily asks you to clarify. She speaks slowly clearly enunciating her words but you can hear the disgusted tone in her voice.

“That’s exactly what he said.” You wrap your arms around yourself, “Does that all help?”

“Yes, yes it does,” JJ reaches out to touch your hand gently. Your eyes flick back to the one-way glass. You can’t see Aaron but you can tell he’s probably fuming. He probably has that signature scowl on his face.

“Am I—” You clear your throat and try to adjust your dress for more modesty, “Can I go?” Prentiss gives you a sad, pity-filled smile and nods. You stand up quickly and exit the room in a rush, colliding with Aaron’s strong chest as you do. You look up into his eyes and you see something in his face you’ve never seen in all the times you've been with him: sadness. You bury your face into his chest and his arms wrap tightly around you. “I was scared,” You choke out as his large, warm hands rub circles into your back, “I needed you.” You ball up his shirt in your fists. You’re not one to cry easily, but your body shakes as you breathe heavily.

“I know,” his voice cracks as he rests his chin on top of your head. He runs one hand over your hair softly, shushing you gently, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

You pull away from his chest and frantically pull his lips down to yours. A strong hand goes to your back, holding you close to him. You hear the interrogation room door open behind you, the two agents stepping out, but neither you nor Aaron break the kiss. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” Aaron breathes against your lips, pulling you back into a tight hug. “You’re safe here with me now.”

———

You lift the heavy metal knocker and let it slam down twice, waiting for the door to open. When it does, Rossi envelops you in his arms, a wide smile spreading across his lips. He grabs your face tightly, kissing each cheek joyfully. “Bellissimo! I’m so glad you could make it.” Rossi places a gentle hand on your back and leads you inside.

You walk into the crowded kitchen and the members of the BAU all turn and smile back at you. Aaron moves towards you and quickly gives you a soft kiss on your lips. “I’m so happy you’re here." 

“I’m so glad you’re finally home.” You pull away from Aaron to make the rounds hugging the people who are like family to you at this point.

Morgan wraps a friendly arm around your shoulder and can’t help but tease Aaron, “Hotch, you couldn’t be bothered to pick up your girl?” He turns to smile at you while Aaron shakes his head.

“I had to stop by the research lab so I just had my classmate Tyler drop me off after we finished up." You shrug.

“Tyler, huh?” Rossi grins, hoping to rile up Aaron a little.

“Is he cute?” JJ chimes in with a laugh.

Aaron quickly clears his throat, hoping to change topics. He raises his brows at you, “So do you want to share the news or should I do it for you?”

“Oh my god, you’re totally preggers!” Garcia squeals and runs to hug you again. You glance at Aaron and can only laugh.

“No, no.” You smile as she pulls away and you look at the shocked faces of everyone in the kitchen, even Aaron looks a little rattled. You playfully nudge his arm, “See what you did? Always causing trouble.”

“Me? If I recall correctly you’re the one who got arrested for being drunk off your ass and trying to fight a serial killer.” His comment elicits a series of small laughs from everyone.

"Yeah and it helped you catch him, so really you all should thank me for being drunk." You playfully argue with Aaron. "Anyway, the actual news. No, I'm not pregnant." You point at Penelope as she opens her mouth to say something else. 

“You’re looking at the proud new owner of a Ph.D. in physics!” You do a small cheesy spin as the rest of the team congratulates you, “Handed in my final thesis paper today.” Aaron smiles proudly as you move back to his side.

“Yeah that’s great and all but you’re still two Ph.D.s behind me.” Spencer can’t help but tease you. In the past year, he’s become one of your closest friends, especially since Aaron can’t even seem to begin to understand your thesis research.

“All right cool it kid.” You joke with him.

“Kid? I’m older than you.” Spencer laughs. Aaron comes closer to wrap his arm around your waist. The gesture is comforting and just this touch sends waves of pleasure through your body.

“Reid might have two more Ph.D.s than you but he’s got nothing on your good looks.” Prentiss winks at you.

“She’s got that right,” Aaron smirks as he kisses your cheek gently.

“Ok, ok, enough small talk.” You feel your face flush, “I came here to learn some cooking from chef Rossi, not talk about how hot I am.” You see Aaron roll his eyes with a smile and you pull him close as Rossi starts the demonstration.

“I love you so much, you know that?” Aaron has his arms wrapped around you from behind. He speaks softly so only you can hear.

“I know,” You smile, happiness flooding through your body, “I love you too.”

[messedupfan]

Infinity & Beyond (Wanda Maximoff x Reader) Chapter 4

Summary: This chapter focuses on the journey of the reader during the five years without Wanda.

A/N: Thank you for the likes and reblogs! Hope that you are all enjoying the story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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You wake up a few months later in the Avengers compound once again. This time with your memories intact and feeling unbelievably disappointed. “She found him,” you find yourself saying to whoever was in the room as you involuntarily sit up on the bed. The nurse brushes it off as some weird superhero thing and not something to address. But then you repeat yourself again and again until she alerts Bruce who grabs the attention of the other remaining Avengers.

"What do you think she means?" Natasha questions as you make the statement again.

"Maybe she's talking about Wanda and Vision?" Steve chimes in with a concerned look on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why would she be talking about Wanda and Vision? Vision was an advanced robot with a stone in his head, he had no soul for Wanda to find. If any of that exists," Bruce points out.

"I don't know then," Steve shrugs. Then you repeat the phrase again. "Maybe it's Wanda and her brother? I don't know, maybe we're too focused on the cloudy eyes thing. We could be thinking about this too hard."

Then Rhodey comes into the room to inform the members that the radar has picked up a signal of an unidentified flying object. He thinks that Carol might be back. "Just say UFO," Natasha rolls her eyes as she follows the guys out of the building. On their way out she spots a worried Pepper Pots and quirks her lips into a reassuring smile. "I think she found him," she says to the woman and leads her to the landing zone of the compound. It's only then that Natasha realizes what you meant. Sure enough, a woman is carrying a ship into the landing zone with Tony Stark and someone named Nebula. Pepper wraps her arms around Tony in tears and relief. He is quickly brought to the medical wing where you remain. Somehow having watched the whole thing from your bed.

When you come out of it the nurse informs you that your eyes had gone cloudy for a moment and you had predicted the return of your father. "He isn't my father," you grouched. Huh, must be another ability, you think to yourself.

Later, after passing a few diagnostic exams with flying colors, you are discharged from your hospital room and are eating across from a very serious Thor as people argue and yell at each other. It was weird to eat actual food. Thor was almost amused watching you figure out how to hold your sandwich.

Tony is then rolled into the room with a furious energy. You can tell that he is really hurting from this loss, that he is frustrated and you can even feel betrayal radiating off of him somehow. Of course, it's not until he's shouting at the Captain that you realize you are feeling his emotions. You were feeling everyone's defeated emotions and it was beginning to suffocate you. As you try to distract yourself with the food, your mind wanders to how overwhelmed Wanda must've felt being able to read people's minds. That leads to the memory of Wanda slipping from you and it's almost too much to handle. You toss the plate in front of you, disrupting the ongoing argument. You’re squeezing your skull as the tears come and you scream for it all to stop. Natasha and Steve fall to your side as they do their best to calm you down. Once the memory leaves you and you've settled, everyone in the room gets serious about finding Thanos.

Nebula is useful as she provides the only lead to finding Thanos and you join them on the spaceship, brushing off everyone's concerns. The talking racoon asks how many of you haven’t been to space before, you raise your hand among the others which seems to be enough to make him laugh. You don't understand why until the ship rushes off to space.

Arriving just outside the planet, a floating woman you hadn't been introduced to yet appears at the front window and is surprised to report that the planet is just Thanos. Along with everyone else, you are heart broken to find out that he had destroyed the stones. You feel for Thor when he says he went for the head and shed another tear for the woman that Thanos had taken from you. It feels like you just lost her all over again.

The first year is the longest. The days feel never ending and drag on. Most nights were spent jolting out of bed in a cold sweat as you're being haunted by memories. It often felt like you were back in the hands of Hydra being electrocuted and injected, spoken to in a language you didn't know, probably German. Everything that was done to you in the time you were captured, everything that your mind had originally suppressed, was attacking you each night. Going through it alone made you miss Wanda even more. So once you could remind yourself that you were safe, you had also been reminded that you were alone. Lots of tears were shed in the night.

After Tony built up enough strength to leave the compound he did but he never stayed gone long. He would return often to attempt to build a relationship with you. It wasn’t easy trying to let him in, the lack of sleep being no help, so you didn’t. Your resistance never stopped him from making the effort to get to know you. Now that he knew you existed, he wanted to be part of your life. Tony knew that you needed family and he was all you had left, even if you didn't want to accept it. He promised to never abandon you ever again.

That didn’t mean he stopped living his life. Within a few months of his recovery, Tony invited you to his surprisingly low-key wedding which you begrudgingly attended with Natasha and Steve. They had been helping you out a lot with coping and figuring out whether or not you wanted Tony in your life. Steve often joked about fighting him again to get him to back off, but you never took the offer. You did your best to enjoy yourself at the wedding but it only reminded you of what you couldn’t have.

You smiled your way through the night as you thought about Wanda.

Her smile, the dress she would’ve worn, her laugh, that look in her eyes that is so full of love and only reserved for you. Your mind went even further back to a time when Pietro was alive and how they would’ve danced together and how happy he would have been for the two of you. You even imagine the wide grin he would have walking Wanda down the aisle and the single tear he would shed. Once he found that ring of yours he was constantly harassing you about when and how you were going to ask his twin. Even giving unwanted advice and ideas. It was all so consuming. That night you fell asleep crying in Natasha’s arms.

Months later, while Tony was visiting you he included you in on a secret. Pepper was pregnant. You didn’t exactly give the most joyous reaction but you were happy for him and Pepper. “When she’s born, promise me you won’t come back here,” you find yourself saying.

“Well I don’t know if she’s a girl yet but… why don’t you want me to come around here?” Tony asks as he returns the ultrasound image to his pocket.

“I want the three of you to be happy. I don’t want you to worry about me. Besides, I’m thinking of asking Nat to start assigning me to missions. I probably won’t be around as much and I really just need to get my mind off of the things I lost and the things I can’t have.” You keep your eyes on the promise ring Wanda had given you on your first anniversary. “But I want you and Pepper to be happy. Enjoy your life Tony. You don’t need to make things right with me to do that.” Tony disagrees but hugs you as he says his goodbyes and you find Natasha for your first assignment.

You are there for the birth of Morgan Stark. You forge her a special necklace from your powers and smile at the little bundle of joy. “Congrats you guys, she is so precious,” you say as you hold the baby.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Pepper says with hooded eyes and a tired smile. You hand the baby back to Tony and leave before thoughts of Wanda could invade and cloud your head. She always wanted a family. She used to fantasize about the kinds of parents the two of you would be. The types of kids you guys would raise. Baby names… Being away allowed you to forget her. But moments like these threatened to tear you down.

More years pass and Natasha is forced to ground you from missions because you have become too mentally unstable and a major liability. Steve drags you to his group therapy sessions but you hardly pay attention or contribute. You just miss Wanda and you allow yourself to feel that pain because running from it has only made it grow. For the most part you spent your time sitting in meetings with Steve or Nat. You preferred being in Natasha’s meetings since they were about mission updates and strategy and not about people crying over first dates. Shortly after that particular meeting Steve began to hint that maybe you should give it a try, you shut him down and turned it around on him. He quickly dropped the subject.

Among that daily schedule you would end your nights curled up on your bed in the room Wanda stayed in while she was waiting for you to come back to her. You would hold some clothes that still smelled like her to your nose as you listened to sad songs. For a while you’re stuck listening to Little Talks wondering if her spirit was lying by your side trying to reach out to you. Some of the things you felt were too painful to keep around and you had them stored at a special place far enough from here. One of them being the old computer. Well, they had been stored away for you but sometimes you convinced yourself that you made the call on your own. Not that Natasha arranged a team to steal most of your belongings.

Tony was generous enough to copy every video and photo file from the computer and put them into your phone. They helped you go to sleep at night.

Then one day, a man you swore had to have been on the vanished list that Nat viewed often, appears at the gate. “Is this old?” Steve asks.

“This is live,” Natasha says. They let him in and the three of you stand around as he explains how he can help. You, Nat, and Steve are skeptical but not so much that you guys don’t have hope it won’t work. Immediately you guys are on the road to find Tony Stark.

Over the years you tried to visit between missions, when you could. Not for Tony but for Morgan. You couldn’t help but fall for the little girl, she was your sister and you wanted to be the best big sister you could be for her. You also wanted to make sure she knew how many people cared for her and that she would always be safe and protected. Natasha was also captivated by her and would sometimes join you on the visits. You girls would play once she was able to run around and you even showed her some of your powers. During this time you finally allowed Tony in and even established a healthy relationship with him and Pepper because whether or not you wanted to accept it, they were your family.

When you arrive at the cabin, Morgan jumps out of Tony’s arms and runs into yours. “Y/N/N!” She shouts happily. You greet her with just as much energy and take her into the house to let them do the talking.

Pepper prepares some drinks and has you take them out to everyone. You re-enter the kitchen to help her with lunch. “Why aren’t you out there with the rest of them?” Pepper asks conversationally.

“Because my powers are connected to my emotions and if your husband says no… I might accidentally blow him into bits and pieces,” you sigh.

Despite herself, Pepper laughs a little. “You know,” she starts. “If you called him dad, he won’t have any other choice than to say yes.”

You shake your head, not this again. “Not going to happen.” Tony hasn’t directly asked you to say it but Pepper has and she keeps bringing up how much it would mean to him to hear you say it. “Besides with what we’re trying to do there’s a chance that he might lose all of this. I’m not even sure if I want him to say yes.” Your gaze lands on Morgan playing with her toys. Pepper follows your gaze and smiles softly.

“Hey Morgan, sweetie?” Pepper calls attention to her daughter who curiously looks up at her mother. “You should go out there and rescue daddy,” Pepper says. The little girl's face lights up as she stands to run to the front door. “Knowing Tony, he will find a way to protect everything he loves and save the world. Even if it kills him,” there is something in the way she says those words that causes the two of you to share a look. A hopeful let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.

She then gives you a hug and tells you to stop by more often, she wishes you luck, and you leave the warmth of the home to the frowns of your rejected friends. You don’t look at Tony when you bid him goodbye.

Next you find yourself in Bruce’s diner and watch as Scott Lang fails to be recognized as Ant-Man by some kids. Bruce is willing to give the time travel a try and on the day the test run is done, you begin to lose hope again. You eat your taco near a window as you observe Scott set up in the landing zone. You laugh when Nebula and Rocket arrive blowing away his food. You almost can’t believe that is the guy who had access to the closest thing they had to a time machine. Steve walks in smiling at your laugh, you don’t do that often, with Tony barking orders behind him. People get to work on the machine and that pesky flicker of hope is restored.

As you work on things Tony is by your side teaching you about every part you are using and putting together. You just let him rattle on and on as you let yourself fantasize about holding Wanda in your arms again. Before you know it they are doing the first test run with Clint Barton. He disappears and instantly reappears with a baseball glove and a stunned expression. “It works,” he says and that feeling of hope causes your heart to pound in your chest. You are going to see her again. Now to find out when to travel to.

“See you in a minute,” Nat says with contained excitement. She is just as excited to complete this mission as you are. After a lot of thinking and planning they separated into three teams of people. Tony, Steve, Bruce, and Scott leave to 2012 to retrieve the tesseract, scepter, and the time stone. Nat, Clint, Nebula, and Rhodey vanish to 2014 to grab the power stone and the soul stone. The last team is just Thor and Rocket to grab the reality stone that is apparently inside of Thor’s former girlfriend. Tony, Steve, and Nat wouldn’t let you go on the mission because they still think you’re a liability. You argue that Thor isn’t exactly the picture of mental stability but they point out that Thor is the only one on their team that knows Asgard and where that stone is.

So you sit and pout in a chair for the quick minute that everyone is gone. Part of what has you so pissed off is that you didn’t get to experience time traveling. All because of a few bad missions. You watch them disappear and stare at the platform but time seems to drag on and you look down at your phone with a sigh. In that second everyone has returned with their stones and your heart drops. You notice one person missing and frown. “Where’s Nat?” You ask. Clint wears a broken expression and takes a breath before explaining how he received the stone. “Oh,” is all you can come up with.

Clint felt that it should’ve been him and you didn’t disagree but you understood why Natasha sacrificed herself. She confided in you a few times about how she felt like a monster because of what she was forced to do when she was being raised in the Red Room. She even talked about the mandatory hysterectomy and hated that she could never carry kids of her own. You did your best to try and cheer her up by telling her that adoption was always an option. “No agency is going to allow a former assassin to adopt a kid. Trust me… I tried.” She then boasted about Clint and his family, she loved them as if they were her own family. “I’ll deny it if you tell anyone but I cried like a baby the first time his daughter called me aunty Nat,” she got teary eyed and you passed her another shot of vodka.

Natasha missed them so much and you knew she would sacrifice herself to get them back. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if his family came back and she had to inform them that he died to save her. She probably would have felt like a bigger monster than she already thought she was. You stood up and left the room to collect yourself and get as far away from everyone’s grief as possible. Natasha had easily become your best friend these past few years. In the past year that you’ve been stuck at the compound there were days when it felt like all you had was each other. You can’t believe she’s gone but you have to hope that there is still a way to bring her back.

Banner finds you later and makes you some food and Rocket sits with you and the rest of the guys sit by the dock to talk. You force the comfort food down despite feeling too sad to eat and notice Nebula walking back into the time machine area. They call you into another room where they’re going to put the stones together but you ignore them and follow Nebula. They let you go, assuming that you’re still upset about losing Natasha. The first time you went on an actual mission with Nebula, you were put off with how serious she was so you came up with random nicknames to call her. She was annoyed initially but eventually she mentioned how funny she thought it was. Her tone had remained emotionless as she told you that and you had to refrain from laughing because it felt rude to do so as she was opening up. Nebula was still a very serious person to be around but she loosened up a bit around you, even called you her friend.

“Hey Neb-Neb!” You called out after her but she ignored you. “Bu-Bu! Hello?” You followed her to the control panel, “Nella, what’s going on with yo–” she cuts you off by wrapping her hand around your throat and speaking to you through gritted teeth. There was definitely something off about Nebula but you couldn’t quite figure it out. So you fought back because you weren’t fighting your friend, you were fighting a stranger. The two of you go hand in hand until she slips out of your hold and goes back to the control panel. You move to stop her but are too late. Next thing you know, you are waking up in rubble.

With a groan you sit up and dust yourself off then quickly panic, you don’t even know if they had time to do the reverse snap. You crawl your way out of the rubble and find Steve, Tony, and Thor speaking in hushed tones. “Did you guys do the snap? What happened?” You ask frantically, you need to know that you’ll be seeing Wanda again. Losing her a third time was simply not an option. Then you see a very alive Thanos just sitting there. That’s when it connects in your head. It was a different Nebula and she was getting a past version of Thanos into this present. “Please tell me you guys did the snap,” you look at Tony and he nods. But the look on everyone's faces told you that they didn’t know if it worked.

You join them as they attack Thanos but he is powerful and not easy to bring down. You’re tossed into another pile of rubble and shake your head, annoyed with yourself because you felt useless. Your powers were failing you and you couldn’t fathom as to why. Out of nowhere you see portals open up one by one, the people that had vanished and the people that hadn’t stepped through each portal. Then an enormous Ant-Man emerges from the ground and drops off a few more people that must’ve been trapped from the destruction of the compound. You gather with the rest of them and really focus to activate your powers as Steve grabs Mjolnir and shouts, “Avengers… Assemble!” Despite the unsuccessful attempt, you still charge along with the rest of them to fight against Thanos’ army.

Without seeing her, you could just sense that Wanda is among the rest and as much as you want a reunion, saving the world takes precedence at the moment. You could practically hear her telling you to go be a hero anyway. As you fight against Thanos’ army, using the hand to hand combat skills Natasha and Steve taught you, a part of you is still distracted and searches for Wanda. Regardless of where you want your focus at the moment. You make your way around the battlefield hoping to knock into her or something so that you don't get yourself killed trying to find her. Then you hear her.

“You took everything from me,” her tone is heavy and her eyes are glowing. You come to the conclusion that she must not know whether or not you are alive. So you don’t let her know and wait to find out what she does.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Thanos responds, angered by the woman's threatening glare.

“You will,” she says before she starts attacking him with her powers. Discreetly killing off a large gathering of Outriders hurtling towards you, you watch Wanda as she comes very close to killing Thanos herself. He calls for the ships to rain fire on everyone and that’s when you finally make yourself present to her. You jump from your spot and land right beside her and create a force field to protect the both of you. Other members are being protected by the sorcerers and it isn’t until Captain Marvel comes flying through that the bullets stop coming down and people are trying to get the gauntlet out of there. You turn towards Wanda and feel her mixed emotions, you wink at her with a smile as you let the barrier go.

“It’s time to be a hero right now, love. We can say hello later,” you tell her before you go back into the fight, the adrenaline rushing through you as your powers have finally activated. Each member does their best to keep the gauntlet out of Thanos’ reach but sadly no one succeeds and he holds the extreme amount of power once again. Carol fights him with as much power as she has to keep him from snapping his fingers but eventually gets tossed aside. You step up next using everything that you have inside of you, using abilities you had no idea you even possessed. But in the end you are tossed onto a metal rod that had been protruding out from the destroyed building. It had stabbed you through your side making it difficult to breathe. As you fight for air you look around to watch Thanos and his army disappear. Tony collapses beside you. “No,” you cough out weakly. You reach out for him and luckily he was close enough for you to touch his shoulder. “Tony,” you gasp as the tears sting your eyes. His eyes follow the sound but you can tell that he’s not actually looking at you.

“Mr. Stark, we won. Mr. Stark,” Peter says as he tries to grab Tony’s attention. Rhodey lands beside his best friend with understanding and sadness in his eyes. Yours tighten shut for a moment as your tears start to fall. You want to wake up from this horrible nightmare but this is reality, a piece of you knew that you couldn’t avoid. Then Pepper arrives and pulls the boy in the spider suit away from her husband. You look up and see that he has finally returned somewhat enough to recognize his wife.

She tells him that he can rest now, then she looks over to you so that you know that now is the time to say something so you don’t regret it later. With a weak grip on his shoulder you nudge him to return his attention to you. It looks like he’s trying to smile at you but is obviously far too weak to do as such. You offer him the best one that you could muster in your current state. “I love you, dad. It’s okay, we’ll be okay,” your hand lands in his and he gives it the lightest squeeze before it falls limp.

Wanda makes her way over to you and panics at the amount of blood you’ve lost but at the moment you don’t feel anything. Not even the pain of losing your father. You just feel… numb. It dawns on you that your body must be failing but that doesn’t scare you. She takes your hand as your loud thoughts of just letting go enter her mind. “No,” she starts through frustrated teeth. “You can’t leave, Y/N. Please, keep fighting. This can’t be our ending. I need you, please don’t leave me,” she sounds so broken but equally determined to keep you alive. As you hold her gaze she lets out a broken sob and tenderly whispers, “I love you to infinity.” She continues to beg, depositing small kisses to the back of your hand. As her words sink in, you find the strength that you need to fight off the thoughts of letting go. Then, with your heightened vision, you look around and find every remaining Avenger kneeling out of respect for your father and you have the urge to join them. You struggle to get up from your position, Pepper and Wanda try to stop you from moving but all rational thought has left you.

“I’m not dying right here,” you grumble as you reach behind you and cut the rod. You shift your position and Pepper sprays your wound to close it around the remaining bits of the rod that was still in you so that the bleeding would stop until you could get it properly treated. Then you kneel for your father to show your respect for him in his death that you failed to show while he was alive. You think about how grateful you were for the last five years and how much you appreciated that he never gave up on you. You silently thank him just as the adrenaline leaves your body and it succumbs to the full extent of your injuries causing you to collapse and pass out.

Chapter 5

[midnightsconspiracy]

Out Of The Blue

Out of the Blue - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: After experiencing a hard day at work, your boyfriend decides to treat you to some of your favourite things. Although he may or may not have another surprise in store for you

Warnings: Non-Major Character Death

Word Count: 1683

Requested: Yes!

'What about one in which one of them had a horrible day at work and the other found out and decided to prepare a little surprise to make the day better? Just fluffy thing?'

A/N: Keep sending in your requests whilst my inbox is open and drop me a message if you're bored, id love to talk to some of you about Chicago PD, Med or Fire!! :)

Masterlist

Working at Chicago Med was stressful, to say the least. Every day was filled with what felt like hundreds of patients, running around to make sure you were taking care of them to the best of your ability. For the most part being an ED doctor with fulfilling, seeing people come in sick and come out good as new. But other times it was draining, either from being swept off your feet every minute of the day or doing all that you could for a person and it still not being enough. That was what had happened today.

You were content as you entered the ED that morning, having spent the night at your boyfriend’s. Everything about your relationship was absolutely perfect, with everyone around you noticing your positive change of mood since getting together with Hank. Walking towards the nurse's station to log into a computer, Maggie and April came over to greet you, both commenting on the large grin that plastered your face.

“Someones happy,” April teased, watching your cheeks glow, as you looked down in mock embarrassment.

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the Sergeant boyfriend of yours could it?” Maggie lowered her head as well, trying to catch your eyes to find the truth within them. Opening your mouth to reply, you were interrupted by an incoming patient being wheeled on a gurney, the paramedics beside it holding a grim look on their faces.

The patient turned out to be a six-year old girl, she had suffered severe trauma to multiple areas of her body, including broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a mild concussion. You immediately took the case, being the only ED doctor available at the moment, but also specialising in paediatrics alongside Dr Manning. Looking the girl over, you noted each of her injures, seeing it was consistent with a severe car accident, and proceeding to insert a needle into her lung to allow it to re-inflate, before sending her upstairs to the OR for surgery. To an adult, the injuries wouldn’t have been fatal, but for a girl this size, the extent of the trauma didn’t bode well for her chances of survival. Praying for her as she was wheeled up to surgery, you felt a tear come to your eye, hoping that this little girl would actually be able to live her life to the fullest. An hour had passed and you still hadn’t heard any news on the little girl, so instead of dwelling on it, you busied your mind, taking any patients Maggie would give you, from a broken leg to a baby with a fever. But finally, as you were leaving a low-level emergency case, your pager buzzed, signalling you to the PICU, nodding to Maggie on the way up, knowing it would be the girl who had just come out of surgery. Speaking to her surgeon, you waited for her anaesthetic to wear off, knowing it wouldn’t be too long because of the low dosage she was given. It seemed as though she had no family with her, either injured or dead from the car wreck and so you sat by her bed, not wanting her to be alone when she finally woke up.

As she woke, you held her hand, introducing yourself, trying to make her as comfortable as you could. You spoke to her for a long time, completely forgetting about your other duties downstairs, instead, trying to make her laugh, telling stories and attempting to get her to recall the events that had happened earlier that day. Building trust was important to you, knowing she would need someone who she was happy with before all the other doctors and DCFS got involved. But time got cut short as your pager once again demanded you downstairs to deal with another patient. Quickly saying goodbye, you dashed downstairs to deal a man with a GSW to the abdomen. Checking his wound thoroughly, you tended to it before sending him to specialists upstairs. Content with the job you had done, you continued with your work in the ED.

After your shift had finished, you headed upstairs to say a final goodnight to the girl, bringing a small teddy with you that you had purchased in the gift shop, hoping it would keep her company overnight before you returned the next day. But as you walked towards her room something didn’t seem right. The lights were turned off, the bed empty. Maybe she had just been moved to a different room or ward, you thought to yourself, knowing there was probably a good explanation for this. Turning towards the nurse on duty behind the desk, you questioned her on the whereabouts of your new friend.

“Didn’t you hear? She coded and was pronounced dead an hour ago. Sorry Doctor Y/LN, I thought someone would have told you already.” Staring at the women, your mouth dropped open, stumbling backwards a bit to brace yourself on the doorway behind. Tears fell from your eyes, why would the universe allow an innocent young child to be taken so earlier in their life? Moving back downstairs you felt numb, just wanting this tragic day to be over. You texted Hank telling him you were on your way back and that you had the most horrible day, not going into any details on how or why.

Unbeknownst to you, Hank was already preparing your favourite meals, as he knew you were already getting increasingly stressed at work when your text came in. He felt bad for you, knowing the type of tragedies you saw daily, experiencing similar in his line of work, completely aware of the repercussions people felt being surrounded by death constantly. On top of making dinner for you, your text had prompted him to drove to the store in order to go above and beyond to try and boost your mood, buying things he knew would make your day better. Returning home he had about ten minutes before you would be back to try and set everything up, rushing about the house making sure every individual detail was perfect for your return. The table was prepared beautifully, accessorised with fancy silverware and candles, that were flickering slowly, ready and waiting to provide you with a romantic dinner. He had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, already placed in a vase of water so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fuss of it on your arrival, and rose petals scattered along the floor in the direction of the table to add an extra romantic touch. Finally, he had one more surprise for you, hidden away in his back pocket, one that was guaranteed to make you smile.

Pulling into the driveway you exited your car, noting the darkness within the house, uncommon for this time of night and the fact that Hank had said he would be in all evening. Opening the door you called out to him, hoping that he hadn’t been pulled into another case, spending the night in his office once again. But as you took off your coat to place it on the hook you noticed the flowers on the table, to be specific your favourite flowers. You called out to him again, hoping he would appear to explain what was happening. Looking up, he stood in the doorway, a slight smile on his face, as you finally looked round properly noticing the rose petals, candles and your favourite food on the table.

“You did this all for me?” You asked.

“Of course I did sweetheart, I know you’ve had it hard at work recently so I wanted to surprised you with some of your favourite things.” To most peoples surprise, Hank was a true romantic at heart despite the cold exterior he held, just wanting to pamper you and treat you like the queen you were. Whether that be buying you your favourite sweets or complimenting you whenever possible, he did everything in his power to make sure you were happy.

Leading you towards the dinner table, you both sat down, quickly making conversation about everything, except work, that being an unspoken rule between you. Conversation flowed easily, both of you just happy to be in the presence of each other once more. Dinner had been polished off, with Hank fetching the dessert from the fridge after as you uttered the millionth ‘thank you’ to him. You both tucked in, moaning at the flavour that tasted like heaven after the day you had had. Looking up you noticed your boyfriend's demeanour had changed, no longer joyful but instead nervous, staring at his hands in his lap.

“What’s wrong Hank?” You asked, worried you had done something to set off this mood change. Instead of replying he lifted his hands from his lap onto the table along with a velvet box, slowly opening it to reveal a ring.

“Y/N, I know we haven’t been together that long and we haven’t discussed this that much but I’m getting old, and whilst I was thinking about that, I realised you really are it for. I can't even imagine myself with someone else or not spending the rest of my days with you. So Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” Tears pricked your eyes, never in a million years would you have expected this, but instead of being angry about it, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more.

“Only if you do it properly and get down on one knee,” you countered, watching as he got off his chair and onto one knee.

“So will you?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed throwing yourself into his arms.

As the evening winded down, you laid in Hank's arms on your shared bed thinking about everything life had given you. You couldn’t have met anyone as perfect as the man beside you. The man you would spend the rest of your life with, bear children with and grow old with. So as you drifted off to sleep, you pictured the little girl, hoping she was in heaven looking down on your life and smiling

[jabbagabba]

La La Land

Read Prologue

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, grief. (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: spoilers (up to episode 6 - just to be safe), violence

———

Pools Of Despair

You weren’t sure how long it’d been, the drive feeling as though it had taken a lifetime. It might have been just down the road and you wouldn’t have been able to tell; time seemed to move torturously slow under Wanda’s control.

She tried to keep herself calm besides your frozen body, already thinking of a way out as she turned the steering wheel. But it was too late to go back.

‘No other way. No other way.’ The words replayed over and over in her head as she finally made it to the front of the building, and it was the first time she fully looked at you. Your face was stoic, the only sign of life being the soft breaths escaping your mouth. You couldn’t look at her - even if you wanted to - and as she reached a hand to your face, the feeling of complete numbness returned.

During the drive there had been small moments of clarity; moments where for the first time you felt in control. It was almost euphoric being able to push through the fog.

But then, as quickly as it had subsided, she would crawl her way back in.

Even now as she turned you toward her fully, you tried to swim through the heaviness, but the black swirls of grief and anguish just got tighter the harder you fought.

Wanda sighed in annoyance. “You can’t go in looking like that.” She pulled at a strand of her hair with a small huff. “Need glasses.”

You were sure if you had control of your body, the pain of your neck would be unbearable, the awkward angle surely making every muscle strain as you were forced to watch her pull apart the car.

This had to have been owned by the only man on the planet that didn’t carry sunglasses in their car. Wanda almost laughed, a punishment for stealing it? She couldn’t be sure.

“Well...” Wanda pulled the blue and white baseball cap by the brim from under her seat. “Better then nothing.” She gave a small smile as she adjusted it on your head, pulling back and grabbing your hand and letting it rest in her lap. “If there was any other way, I swear, I would let you go. But... I just... I can’t live without him.”

You said nothing as she cried.

———

“Head down, get Vision. Leave.” Her voice plagued your every step, each word carved into your brain as you finally reached the front desk.

‘Sword’ was a nice place - or at least had nice flooring - and from the bright light that filled each and every inch of the glossy tile, you knew there had to be a lot of glass. It was a government building after all.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is chirpy, a polite smile painted on her lips, you don’t need to see her eyes to know it wasn’t anything but genuine. She lets the wheels of her chair carry her forward, her computer forgotten besides her as you near the desk.

“Do you have... a meeting?” She smiles again, more forced and you’re able to see the golden pin on her chest that proudly says ‘Mary’ and try once more to float above the darkness.

“I -“ The word leaves your lips aprubtly and the fight drains from you just as fast. “I’m here to inquire about some of my father’s equipment. I’d like it back.” You let the darkness swallow you whole.

“And who are you again?” Mary is quick to pull her deskphone to her ear, hand hovering over the numbers.

———

The name that fell from her lips made Mary freeze. She looked up with wide eyes, both fearful and exited.

Starks were top priority at ‘SWORD’ - she was sure they were top priority everywhere - and as she desperately tried to recall if her boss mentioned anything about Stark equipment, the girl’s patients quickly wore thin.

“Can you please just tell me where to go? I have a long drive ahead of me.” Her voice was a sharp contrast from her apparance. The girl’s voice was stern and loud while her body was scrunched in on itself, eyes glued to the desk. Mary took a glance over the desk and saw the dark fabric of a dress, the hat didn’t even match the girl’s shoes.

“Right.” Mary said. “I’m sorry, just a little... starstruck.” She tried to keep her cool, turning again in her chair and started typing as fast as possible on her little keyboard. The atmosphere was thick with uncomfortable silence and Mary had to make sure not to shiver in the girl’s presence. She scrolled down the list of names and let out a small “ah” when she found your name. Just as quickly as she clicked on it, a pop up window filled the screen

STARK - Access Denined. Call Security

She felt sick; her nerves making her skin pucker as she tried to keep calm. When Mary finally found the courage to move, bile reached through her throat as she saw red eyes looking back.

“Ahh!” Mary was quick to jump out of her chair.

“Fine.” The girl sighed, hand flat on the counter as she took long strides around it. “If you won’t help me.” A red trail flowed through one of the doors; slithering like a snake as it wrapped around the shell shocked receptionist. “I’ll do it myself.”

———

Wanda’s mind had warped, grief and anger become one as she ripped through each and every room of the building. No one was safe from the witch’s wrath as she swung them through various glass panels and equipment. By the third turn she took, guards had given up, opting to instead try desperately to get out of her way.

She had left you at the desk, too transfixed to care and as she heard the various shouts of alarm from down the hallway, she was glad you weren’t in her way.

———

The group of four man were shocked; watching as the two guards dropped their guns and put their hands up for mercy.

“We’ll give you what you want. Please!” One of them - Felix - cried as the woman barreled through the double doors.

Wanda simply flicked her hand and he was sent flying to a wall, his partner following.

“Where is he?” Her accent was thick and the youngest tech almost asked her to repeat herself. “Where is Vision?” The stunned silence only fueled her anger. “You.” Red swirled under one of the men’s feet and lifted him from the ground. “Where?”

If the man could have, he’d be shivering in fear right about now. His life was in the hands of a deranged woman who with a simple flick of her wrist could send him plummeting down ten floors.

Wanda tightened her hold on him in warning and he knew he had to speak.

“Behind us.” He said. “There is a set of double doors, turn left and there’s an examination room.”

“He should be there!” A colleague on his left was shaking as she turn to face him. “He’s not lying.” Wanda let her power swim under him once more beofre gently letting him go.

“Thank you.” She gave a small smile. “Now, go.”

They didn’t have to be told twice.

———

Wanda felt as though she couldn’t breathe, the sight of her dead lover on the table was crippling. Vision was a dark grey; his eyes blank as they stared into her. If it wasn’t for the table itself she would have probably collapsed on to the floor as sobs took over her.

“I cant. I can’t. I -“ The words fell from her lips like a mystical chant. She couldn’t look at him anymore, his body was nothing but an empty shell of parts.

When her body turned to ash; Wanda was ready to die, her last shred of humanity died with Vision. The battlefield would be her final resting place. She chose to spend her last moments hoping that If there was a God that they’d be merciful, that she’d be allowed to spent her afterlife in blissful ignorance.

But instead she woke up.

Five years had passed and she was still there, only now she was alone. It was only after the death of Tony Stark that she let the floodgate of loss fill up her veins. While Thanos was alive, she had a mission; kill him and reverse the snap.

Wanda never imagined the pain that followed. She should have died that day, why couldn’t she have died that day?

Grief had a knack for turning the strongest people into helpless pools of despair.

Vision deserved better. That was what go her up, got her to calm her tears and push herself up. She wasn’t going to let them win. Vision was hers to mourn, to love, and hers to take care of.

She had a new mission, one that was stronger then her need to submit to pain.

But... she needed help carrying him.

———

Your body moved through the halls, following the tethered rope of energy that wrapped around your waist. If it wasn’t for your boots, your feet would have been covered in cuts from the sharp edges of the broken glass that filled the hallways.

The fog had cleared more then before and if you tried hard enough, you might’ve even been able to pull free completely. Wanda was exhausted and the fight had been ripped from you So you let her pull you, let the fog seep through every inch of you.

And as you entered the small room, you forgot you were suppose to care anymore.

“I need you to hold onto his legs.” She said softly, hand stroking his cheek. “Easier to carry both of you.” Your body moved again and you placed a gentle hand onto vision’s ankle.

Wanda wiped the last of her tears away, grabbed onto his arm, and all three of you were lifted off the ground.

———

Hot air blew through Wanda’s hair making her hands continuously push back strands from her face as she walked. The afternoon sun was unrelenting and she had to take several short breaks.

The car was too dangerous to return to - a swarm of agents was not something she wanted to deal with - and controlling someone for almost 24 hour straight took a lot out of her. Her hold on you was weak enough for you to sometimes fully take over, her control turning into a dull ache at the back of your brain.

As she walked in front of you thoughts of running flooded through your brain but the walking had tired your body out, and you were sure that if her little pushes weren’t there, you’d have already collapsed. Even if you had the strength to do it, the empty roads had long ago turned into tall trees and bush. You were in the middle of nowhere and getting loss in the woods with a heartbroken witch was not something you wanted to deal with. So, like a trained puppy, you followed silently behind Vision’s dragging body. It wasn’t hard to keep up, she was as slow as she could be while Vision’s body left a dirt trail.

“Break.” Wanda breathed. Who knew an empty little spot of grass would be so inviting? “Sit.” You felt a small push and follow it down to the ground. You let your fingers grip the direr under them, the cool breeze making you sigh.

“Where-“ The sound of your voice startled both of you but she stayed still. “Where are we going?”

She said nothing, choosing to instead turn on her knees and pull Vision forward by the arms.

“When I was little-“ Wanda smiled to herself as she stared down at Vision. “- I use to dream about this field. Me and Peitro went past it everyday during the summer. It had all these small flowers growing.” You listen intently as she giggles, eyes losing focus as she is hit with the memory. “I always tried to sneak past the fence... but, I was alway stopped by someone.” Her mouth twitches and you feel the pulsing return in your neck. “It’s probably nothing but dirt now, like everything.”

“Where are we going, Wanda?” You try to keep your voice soft, afraid of ruining the small moment as you reached out for her but she was quick to stop you, hand glowing red and inches away from your face.

“Don’t.” She warns. You nod in silent apology.

“We’re not far from a road.” Wanda let’s her hand fall back to her side. “I want you go and call whoever you need to.” You’re almost startled when her control leaves fully from your body, it almost feels empty. “Tell them what I did, or don’t, I don’t care. I have what I want.”

“Wanda -“

“Please.” The crack in her voice makes tears pool in your eyes. “Just go.”

You stand on shaking legs. The world was spinning and you felt as though you had just gotten off a rollercoaster but you tried to steady yourself. Unsure of where to go, you turn to her once more for guidance and she simply points behind you.

Your conscious wouldn’t let you leave. Wanda was tired and you were afraid of leaving her alone. Regardless of what she did; you knew you couldn’t blame her, she had lost everyone.

In a way, so did you.

“I’m sorry about Vision.” Wanda looked up again and gave you a small nod. “About Pietro, about everyone. I wish it was different.”

“Me too, Stark.” She let her fingers wrap around your hand and squeezed. The warmth from the dock returned and you couldn’t help but give her a small grin of gratitude. “I meant what I said at the funeral.”

Both of you were so wrapped up in your own little bubble, you didn’t even question why the birds stopped.

————

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read.

Next chapter will be fun.

[hacked-by-jake]

Hey!

I've just got broken up with after 3 years because he cheated on me with multiple girls... (And blamed me for it)

Can I please request some Jake fluff? I leave it up to your artistic freedom, I just wanna feel better for a bit

Love your little stories, thank you for writing ❤️

The Truth

A/n: Hey dear, I hope you’re okay, I’m really sorry about what happened to you and thank you for telling me that. The words I will say are known from everywhere but they are true.You definitely deserve something much better than him. First of all, it is not your fault that he cannot control himself; it is not your fault that he cannot see your value. He doesn’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve to listen, it’s your fault. Even though it’s always easier said than done but you have to forget it. He's not worth your time, he's not worth your power, and he's not worth anything else. I wish you much strength and send you much love. Feel hugged and if you want to talk to someone you don’t know, feel free to write to me❤️❤️❤️

So, when I saw your message, I jumped right up to write this. I really hope you like it and that it will cheer you up a bit. I wish you a wonderful evening/ a wonderful night or a wonderful day. Take care of yourself. And thank you for the sweet compliments.❤️❤️

Summary: Jake tells you the truth.

Words: 2,1 k

Far away from you, you can hear the quiet bells of the church beating. It’s exactly 12 a.m. on a beautiful summer night.

The cloudless and pitch black sky offers a beautiful view of the sea of stars that sparkles above you and Jake and gives you the feeling that this is the eternity. On the edge of Duskwood town centre, on an abandoned high-rise, you sit cuddling with the Hacker and just watch the Quiet Night. Only occasionally cars drive through the streets of the small town, again and again lights go out in apartments and houses to end the day. The large windows of the shops and stores of the shopping street light up brightly and from up here the few people who are on their way home look like like little ants. You’re leaning your back against Jake’s upper body, and he’s got his arms wrapped around you. His head rests on your shoulder and your legs are knotted together.

You look up at the sky and watch the stars. Every now and then a plane flies by and you imagine yourself sitting up there with Jake on your way to your deserted island.

A beautiful holiday destination that you have traveled two times. A cute little wooden hut surrounded by white sand and crystal clear water. It is just perfect. You remember the moment when you were lying in a hammock with Jake in the middle of the night, under the starry sky and the moonlight, and he read you something from your favorite book. As beautiful as this moment was, as beautiful is this one too. In Jake’s arms, you feel like you own the world, like everything else is standing still and only you and Jake count. And it’s true, up here, it’s just you, him and the eternity.

Satisfied, you sigh, "It’s so lovely here, isn’t it?"

"You're right. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world," Jake whispers in your ear and breathes a tender kiss on your cheek, making you giggle. You turn your head a little to the side to see him, "I’m talking about the sky." He grins slightly, "And I’m talking about something even more beautiful."

Your cheeks turn slightly red and you are glad that it is not visible through the little light. Even after two years of relationship, he still manages to flatter and embarrass you, but the other way around it’s the same.

"You charmer" you joke and turn your head away from him again.

"No, I’m not a charmer. I am a man who only speaks the truth!" He whispers and draws you even closer to his body.

"Oh interesting, and what is the truth?"

He makes a superior sound, "Turn to me," he demands and lets you go so you can move. You do what he asks and turn to him. You sit between his outstretched legs and put your legs over his thighs and slide very close to him.

"Now, I am curious," you wink and look into his eyes that radiate so much love and security that you would like to cry the most, that you have the feeling that a whole zoo would rage in your belly, so tremendously tingles your whole body.

„The truth is that you are the most beautiful thing that could have happened to me. Before, I always felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. As if I were superfluous everywhere and nowhere would a person really understand me. I thought it was my destiny to be misunderstood by everyone and to be an outsider. But when I met you, with your extraordinary kind and your jokes. With your courage and your trust in me, I understood it wasn’t true. I realized that all I had to do was wait for the right person that I found in you. Since I know you, my world is colorful, I see the future and I don’t just live for myself. Or rather, I don’t just exist. Since I know you, my whole life has changed.

When I’m with you, there’s no place I’d rather be. You’re the last thing I think about before I fall asleep, even when you lie next to me every night. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, even if you’re half on top of me.

When I look into your beautiful eyes, I can see my future. I never looked for love until you came. I didn’t know that I longed for love and affection, I didn’t know how beautiful life can be. I didn’t know there was a person who made me feel what you made me feel. I had no idea that all I needed was you.

Before, it was just me and my computer. Trying to be anonymous and not letting anyone get too close to me even though that’s what I secretly wanted. All of a sudden, you made my world shine.

Everything I never thought possible became possible when I met you.

You know, MC, there’s flames, but you’re the fireworks, you’re the light that makes me see. Your eyes are my refuge, your touches are my salvation, your voice is my favorite music. Your smell is my healing, your lips my protection, and your love, my life. Your heartbeat is what keeps me alive, I don’t know what I would do without you. I don’t know how a life without you at my side was and is possible. When you enter the room, stops my heart for seconds and then beats twice as fast because you take my breath away.

Every time I look at you, I doubt whether this is the reality. Because I just can’t imagine how someone like you, so perfect, so beautiful, so sweet and tender, can be with me.

I know I talk a lot of messed up and confused stuff and I’m probably repeating myself, but if you could just feel what’s happening inside me while you’re sitting here with me, you’d think I’m crazy. And I am.. I am crazy about you.

I forget the simplest things around you. I forget how to talk and stutter all the time. Breathing is a hard thing too, because my emotions roll over when you’re there. I forget how to walk because I only have eyes for you and no longer look forward.

But I also forget all the bad, I forget all the pain, all the suffering, all the unhappiness. All thanks to you.

When I tell you something, you listen to me and you don’t just pretend. You’re interested in things I like, and even if I tell you boring computer stuff for hours, you listen to me carefully. If I’m not well, you leave everything behind to help me; if I’m happy, you’re happy with me. If someone treats me badly, you say something before I say something myself. You’re defending me from everyone and you’re defending me even if I’m not there.

MC, no one’s ever done this for me.

My heart is beating so fast I think it’s bursting. I feel drunk when you look into my eyes and confuse my mind, I feel so safe and loved. I feel like a human being since you’ve been at my side.

You showed me what happiness means, you showed me what love means. You showed me what life means and how beautiful life can be when you spend it with the right person.

I thank everyone out there that I can have you by my side. That I can be the person who is by your side, who may hold your hand, who may kiss you.

Who can sleep next to you, who can look at you all the time, who can protect you, and I always will. I will protect you from anything that could hurt you.

I would endure any pain in the world to stay by your side.

I would take any pain away from you so that it doesn’t hurt you, I would do anything to maintain your happiness and love. You are my God damn world! You are my angel, my heart, my one and all. You are my freedom and you are my prison, you are my happiness and my pain. You are everything, everything important in this world.

I wish I could describe to you how strong my love is for you but unfortunately there are not enough words to express it. And it drives me crazy that I can’t describe it to you, because I would love to.

I would like to express to you how damn much I love you because you deserve to see how I see you. Because you deserve to hear how perfect you are.

I love you so much that sometimes it scares me because I don’t know how to deal with it if you would to disappear from my life. I would never be happy again MC, I would never laugh again, I would never live again, it would break me, my dear.

We have too much in common. When you go, I go with you, when you cry, I weep with you, and when you live, I live. The truth is, all I am today and what I stand for is because of you, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are all that matters to me, I love you so much that my heart hurts. You gave me a life."

Like frozen you stare at him.

You’re not moving, any more than you were during his entire speech.

Silent tears run from your eyes like little streams. Laughing nervously, the hacker also wipes away some tears that he has lost while he poured out his heart and laid it at your feet.

"I also don’t know where that came from," he murmurs in embarrassment and clears his throat.

You don’t know how to react, should you fall into his arms and crush him? Should you kiss him until you can’t breathe? Should you just burst into tears? Or maybe all together?

Your head has trouble processing all its words and your associated feelings, you don’t know if this is really happening. Whether that’s real, whether you’re awake, whether you’re even alive.

It all seems like a dream, like a dream you never want to wake up from, but that’s the beauty. This moment is real, and it is yours.

"Please say something" his voice trembles slightly and he looks up into the sky, "I am afraid that you get up and run away after what I have said."

The worry in his voice finally lets you break out of your trance. Stormily, your arms wrap around his neck to pull him into a hug. From the momentum and the suddenness he has no chance to hold himself upright and tilts with you to himself, backwards. He groans painfully as he comes up on the ground and remains rigidly lying down. You’re hanging on him, clawing at him like someone’s trying to pull you away from him, hiding your head between his neck and his shoulder. Loudly you sob up and a tremble shakes your whole body.

"I love you," you croak weepy. Your voice sounds as if you have excruciating pain, but at this moment you are the happiest person in the world. "I love you so much Jake, so unbelievable that it hurts"

"I love you, too, my dear," he whispers and wraps his arms tightly around your upper body.

"I don’t know what to say. Or rather where to start" a little laugh leaves your lips, "I don’t know how to give it all back to you."

Jake grumbles, "You don’t have to answer or return anything. Please don’t say anything and take it like that," he asks, "Don’t say anything and just kiss me."

Of course you’ll grant him his wish right away. You straighten up and wipe the tears from your face. You put your hands on his cheeks and look deep into his eyes. He smiles as he wipes a few strands of hair from your face and pulls your head down to him and closes his lips with yours.

You stay there until the sun rises.

🌹🎭

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

SFW Alphabet | Felix Lee

{Stray Kids Masterlist}

Member: Felix Lee

Genre: fluff

Authors Note: I am trying to do this series with both AiB and Stray Kids, so here’s my first one! Enjoy!

A - Affection 

(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Considering how affectionate and cuddly he is with his members, with his S/O he’d be ten times more intense

His love language is physical touch, so he would always need to be touching his S/O is some way or another

Even a simple gesture like holding hands under the restaurant table is enough to make him feel reassured

He wouldn’t be able to sleep without wrapping all his limbs around his S/O, snuggling as close and possible and almost suffocating in their scent

While having a lazy day at home, Felix would not leave his S/O’s side

He would follow them to every room, like a little kitten

Felix would love getting his head pat. His S/O’s fingers running through his hair would be heaven for him

As Felix has mentioned to the other members, he heart would explode if his S/O came up behind him while he’s in the kitchen (while he’s washing dishes or something) and gave him a back cuddle

B - Best Friend 

(What would they be like as a best friend?)

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. Felix would honestly make the most amazing best friend in the world.

He would be the type of best friend that would show up at their house at 2am just to play Minecraft in their room

He would have the most crackhead energy around them 24/7

Always sticking to their side through thick and thin

He would always know how to cheer his best friend up, quoting vines and doing tiktok dances just to hear them laugh

He would also be so loving, big hugs and snuggles for everyone, especially his best friend

C - Cuddles 

(Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) 

I mentioned cuddling a bit in A, but here’s some more

Felix would absolutely adore cuddles

One of his favourite ways to cuddle is playing video-games while his S/O sat on his lap with their face tucked into his neck. He would love feeling their breaths on his skin and them leaving small kisses there every few minutes

During cuddling, Felix would love to tuck his hands underneath his S/O’s shirt to feel their warm skin, and then giggle when they yell at him for having cold hands

Felix would rub his head on their belly as their lying down, kissing the soft skin there and blowing raspberries against it to make them laugh

He would wrap his arms around their shoulders from behind them as their doing work and kiss their cheeks

After a long day apart, Felix would drag his S/O to bed and cuddle them like a teddy bear, making up for the lost time when they weren’t together, not letting them go until he’s satisfied with their love (never)

Felix would be so suffocating and cuddly, his S/O would wonder if he has separation issues at least 3 times a day

D - Domestic 

(Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?)

Obviously Felix has a passion for cooking, so he would be more than happy to practice his skill whenever he could in the kitchen

Every time he made a good dish, his S/O would always be the taste-tester and give him their opinion

He would love to cook for his partner, and he would get so excited when they like his food

Around the house in general, I feel like he would be rather loud.

With his energy and vibe, he would make everyday be a party

Whilst doing boring chores with his S/O, he would blast fun music and dance while doing the laundry or vacuuming

It would take hours for them to finish cleaning anything, because they would have too much fun while doing so

Their living space would be so comfy, pillows and giant stuffed animals everywhere

E - Ending 

(If they had to break up with their S/O, how would they do it?)

I feel like Felix would do absolutely everything in his power to prevent a breakup

But if he was forced to make the decision, he would be torn

Felix seems like someone that would be very emotionally connected to his S/O, so a breakup would crush him

He would probably tell his partner straight up that he wanted to break up

He would sit them down and talk through it logically, trying to say things in the nicest way possible

If he’s the one that broke it off, he would probably try his best to stay positive and on his feet

But if his S/O broke it off, he wouldn’t even try to hide his hurt

He would cry when they tell him, asking what he did wrong and why they don’t love him anymore

It would take quite a while for him to get over them, because he seems like such an emotional person

F - Fiancé(e)

(How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I don’t think Felix would be in a rush to marry his S/O

He’d see it as such a small thing in their relationship, not really caring whether they were married or not

He wouldn’t care about labelling their relationship too much. He’d probably just be happy in any dynamic

Of course, he would be committed to their relationship so strongly and would defiantly hope to marry them, but he wouldn’t think that it was necessary to rush things

To Felix, he wouldn’t rely on marriage to strengthen his relationship, as he probably believes he can be perfectly happy and committed without being married

G - Gentle

(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Physically, I feel like Felix would be incredibly gentle with his S/O

He would always treat them like they’re so fragile, even after they reassure him over and over that they won’t break

Even just placing his hand on their back would be gentle, and he would hold their hands lightly because he’s worried about hurting them

Emotionally, Felix would be so in touch with how his S/O is feeling

Because he values trust and emotional connection in a relationship, he would be delicate with his partners emotions and always put how they are feeling first

He would constantly check on how his S/O is feeling, and probably loves having conversations about deep emotions, being so glad that his partner feels comfortable to open up to him

H - Hugs

(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but Felix ADORES hugs

He can never get enough of them, wanting to constantly be snuggled up in someone's arms like a little koala

It wouldn’t be any different with his S/O

Being with Felix would means hugs galore, and his partner doesn’t get a choice in it

All throughout the day, Felix would surprise his S/O with sudden cuddles and back hugs

Felix though loves hugs where he can run up to them and spin them in his arms

Or hugs where they wrap their legs around his waist, making him stumble and giggle

Every hug, Felix would nuzzle his face into his S/O’s neck and rub his face against their cheeks

I - I Love You

(How fast do they say the L-word?)

It honestly wouldn’t take him long, maybe only a few weeks into dating

It would probably slip out during a phone call as he’s hanging up, not realizing what he said until he gets a text from his partner immediately saying “Love you too <3″

Or he would say it after a date when he’s dropping them off, giving them a big kiss then running off cheekily before they would respond

If his S/O said it to him first, he wouldn’t know how to react

He would become all blushy and shy, probably try to hide his red face behind his hands

He would say it back of course, but not before he has a moment to control his nervous laughing

J - Jealousy

(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Definitely a jealous boyfriend, no doubt about it

He wouldn’t be really jealous to the point of annoyance, but he surely wouldn’t appreciate it if someone was flirting or touching his S/O in any way

If they spent the day whole day with someone while he was sitting at home on a day off, he would probably become a bit jealous

He would send them texts throughout the day, asking what they were doing and stuff like that

If his S/O talked to someone for ages while Felix was right next to them, he would become impatient after a while and want their attention back on him

In this situation he would probably squeeze their thigh gently or thread his fingers with theirs to reassure himself

He would become jealous out of insecurity, because sometimes he would probably feel down about himself and wonder why someone as perfect as his S/O was with him

But after a reassuring cuddling session and sweet words from his S/O, he would be completely back to his normal, energy-filled self

K - Kisses

(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Felix lives for kisses, no matter what kind

His absolute favourite kisses would be gentle ones, filled with love and intimacy

He would kiss his S/O at every chance he gets

Even when their just walking past them in the house, he would lean over and press his lips to their cheek, taking them by surprise

Or when they’re working on their computer at their desk, he would come up behind them and tilt their head back so he can give them a big smooch

His favourite place to kiss his S/O I feel like would be their belly

He could lay his head on their stomach and kiss the soft skin there for hours if it was just to hear them laugh about how it tickles

On him, he would love to be kissed on his forehead

Who doesn’t love a cute forehead kiss

He would love them because it’s such a tender and loving action

It would make him feel cared for and fussed over, which is his absolute favourite

If they kissed all his freckles individually and he would marry his S/O right there

L - Little Ones

(How are they round children?)

I get the feeling Felix actually loves kids

He gives me ‘big cousin that plays hide and seek with little cousins’ vibes

He could honestly play with kids for hours, never failing to make them laugh

He would probably love to babysit with his S/O, because secretly he imagines that they are looking after their own child together

If his S/O has nieces, nephews or baby cousins, he would buy the kids gifts on Christmas and their birthdays just so they like him more

If a kid ever uses puppy-dog eyes on him, he wouldn’t be able to refuse them anything

This means his future kids will be spoiled by their dad massively

M - Morning

(How are mornings spent with them?)

Felix would probably wake up quite early, getting out of bed to cook breakfast for himself and his S/O

If they aren’t awake by the time breakfast is on the table, he would sprint into their shared room and catapult onto the bed to wake them up

If his S/O isn’t a morning person, they’re in for a wild ride

He would rip the duvet off them and kiss them all over their face until they opened their eyes

If the sweet approach doesn’t work, then he would probably begin a pillow fight war

In the end, it always ends with both of them fallen off the bed laughing their heads off with pillows and duvets scattered everywhere

At breakfast, Felix and his S/O would talk about their plans for the day and clean up the kitchen together

N - Nights

(How are nights spent with them?)

Felix and his S/O would have the same bed-time routine

They would brush their teeth in the bathroom, always making each other laugh by making faces in the mirror and cracking terrible dad jokes

They’d probably go to sleep at a late hour, staying up and watching Netflix shows on one of their laptops

Felix would love to get his hair played with as they watched Netflix, becoming sleepier from the soothing feeling of his S/O’s fingers scratching his head

Felix would fall asleep first most of the time I think, and his S/O would either tuck his head into their chest or press themselves against his chest before drifting off to sleep while listening to Felix’s cute breaths

O - Open

(When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

As I mentioned before, I think Felix values honesty and emotional connection in a relationship

This means that he would be very open from the beginning with his S/O

He wouldn’t want to hide any part of himself away from them, wanting them to know and understand him as well as they can

He would love having late nights conversations with his partner, talking about his dreams and passions for future years

He would want to be as open and honest in a relationship and he probably would want his partner to feel the same way

Hiding some aspect of himself would feel like he was lying to his S/O

He wants them to love him for who he truly is, so he’s not afraid to spill secrets and personal things about himself to his S/O

P - Patience

(How easily angered are they?)

Felix seems like the most laid back person ever

He would hardly ever become mad

But when he does, he would become MAD mad

He would go completely silent, giving glares and snarky remarks to whoever angered him

The only things that his S/O would do that would truly set him off is ignoring his calls and texts when he doesn’t know where they are and when his S/O is talking themselves down in front of him

He seems like an anxious personality at some points, so if you don’t answer his texts or calls, he would immediately assume the worse

He also would hate his S/O calling themselves awful things while he’s right there, because in a way it’s insulting to him

If Felix became mad at his S/O, it honestly wouldn’t last too long

He wouldn’t hold grudges, but just sort of let his steam cool off and then be fine

Q - Quizzes

(How much would they remember about their partner?)

Every. Little. Detail

His S/O would not be able to escape him

He would remember something they said weeks ago about a shirt they saw at the mall

“I bought you this shirt because you said you liked the colour.” “What? I looked at it for like 3 seconds...”

Sometimes he would remember things about his partner that they wouldn’t even be able to remember themselves

Even such minor things like how they tie their shoelaces

It honestly would be so cute, and he would always bring things up weeks later after his S/O mentioned it

“Why did you get us tickets to the zoo?” “...because you said you find meerkats cute a few weeks ago.”

R - Remember

(What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Every moment with his S/O would mean the world to Felix

But his favourite moments would be the simple ones

Like when their having movie date at home, snuggling on the couch with a rom com playing on the TV

He would value those moments because he loves the domestic and calming atmosphere, just enjoying being in his S/O presence

Let’s be honest, him and his S/O would probably not be focused on the movie at all

He would also value memories of going on adventures together

Like going to aquarium and seeing his partner become all excited and point at all the colourful fish

He could honestly watch them react to the sea creatures for hours, he would be so soft for his S/O smile and excitement

S - Security

(How protective are they? Would they like to be protected?)

Honestly probably quite protective

He would be so cautious for them all the time

Even just walking down the street he wouldn’t let go of their hand

It also goes back to him texting them throughout the day if they go out

He feels so much better when he’s reassured that they’re safe

He like to feel like their protector, it probably makes him feel stronger and boosts his confidence

When it comes to him being protected, he would love it

If his S/O is bigger than him, he would always push himself into their chest when he’s feeling vulnerable

Just being in his S/O arms would be enough for him, because their scent would automatically comfort him

T - Try

(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He would treat his S/O like royalty, always making sure he puts in his best effort towards anniversaries and dates

I already mentioned it, but he would love cooking for his S/O

It would probably be his other love language; cooking for his partner

When it’s their anniversary, he would always make sure that he has a romantic restaurant dinner reserved for them

He would pamper them all day, not leaving their side and doing the smallest tasks for them

For gifts, he would prefer making his S/O gifts rather than buying them

He would make cute photo collages of them both to give to them

Or he would make necklaces and bracelets for them from scratch

U - Ugly

(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He would sometimes accidentally laugh in serious situations when his S/O needs him to be understanding

It wouldn’t be really bad, but it may start an argument if his S/O doesn’t tell him to be serious

He also would sometimes get a bit too clingy, mainly due to insecurity

If his S/O wants some time alone, Felix might take it personally, thinking that they’re sick of him

And lastly, would probably play video-games until really late on some nights

Most of the time his partner wouldn’t care and would probably join him on most occasions

But sometimes when they just want to go to bed and cuddle their boyfriend, they might find it a bit annoying

V - Vanity

(How concerned are they with their looks?)

Always wants to look his best for his S/O

No matter how much they reassure him about how they don’t care what he looks like, he would still worry about it

Would be kind of embarrassed if he thought he wasn’t looking attractive

Would hide his face in his S/O’s chest if he wasn’t feeling the most confident

During heated moments he would tuck his head into their neck, probably self-conscious about his facial expressions

His S/O would have to reassure him a lot, but Felix wouldn’t complain, because he lives off praise and compliments

W - Whole

(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, home is where ever his S/O is

Because he is someone who becomes very emotionally connected quickly, his S/O would be such a huge part of his life that he wouldn’t be able to live without

Even just one night of not having them in his arms feels foreign and strange to him

He would love his S/O with his whole heart, not holding back any aspect of his affection for them

His S/O would be so important to him, and he would want them to feel the exact same way back

X - Xtra

(A random headcanon for them.)

He would absolutely love torturing his partner with harmless pranks

Like hiding behind doors to scare them and putting sticky notes all over their shared room (even though he’s also pranking himself??)

He’s such a trickster and any moment being with him is chaotic

After he’s learnt a new tiktok dance, he would run excitedly to his partner and show them, which always ends in tears of laughter

Y - Yuck

(What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Would hate to have a partner who is incredibly quiet around both him and other people

He would want someone who matches his energy and has the same humour as him

He also wouldn’t like it if his S/O was very distant, or if they didn’t value spending quality time with him

He would feel neglected or unloved if he dated someone like that

On a lighter note, he would absolutely HATE bugs I feel

His S/O would always have to be the one to take bugs outside if they found one in the house

If both of them have a fear of bugs, then it would take hours to get the smallest of beetles out of their room

Every time it began to fly, they would both scream and shove each other to get away from it

Would honestly be hilarious to watch though

Z - Zzz

(What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Either spreads out like a starfish and hogs the bed, or snuggles into the tightest ball possible

There’s no in-between

He wouldn’t snore at all I feel, and would be a light sleeper

Even the smallest of sounds outside makes him wake up all alert

Rarely has nightmares, but when he does he wakes up and tucks himself closer to his S/O while kissing their face to reassure him it was just a dream

He would love to have so many pillows and stuffies on the bed, wanting to be as comfortable as possible

Probably goes to sleep wrapped up like a burrito, but then wakes up with all the covers off him

SFW Alphabet template from @the-coldest-goodbye​