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venus-is-thinking · 6 months ago

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Disventure Camp All Stars Power Ranking (Round 12 - Venus)

Hey everybody! @accirax got me into yet another media! Truly shocking!

Basically, power rankings are a way of guessing who will be next eliminated in the YouTube series, Disventure Camp All Stars (the third season of Disventure Camp). I only just caught up as of last episode, so this is my first time doing the power rankings! If you want, you can look at mine and accirax's as a sort of versus situation; we didn't consult until after we finished writing these.

But, basically, the characters will be ranked from 1 to 9, with 1 being least likely to go home and 9 being most likely to go home. At the end of the next episode, I gain points equal to the ranking of the player eliminated. At the end of the show, you get to see how many points you won.

Anyways, let's jump into it! Unlike accirax, I don't really get a whole lot other than excitement out of the trailers, so I'm gonna be going straight for the ranking and analysis.

1: Grett

Honestly, it kinda surprises me that I'm putting Grett at the very top, but it makes sense to me. After all, I feel like one of the biggest plot arcs going on right now is the tension between Grett and Yul, in which you're obviously supposed to root for Grett and against Yul. Obviously Grett could go out and Gabby could avenge her or something, but... eh.

Even beyond that meta reason, I don't really understand why people would be voting Grett. She's not especially threatening in challenges, nor is she the one running the villains' alliance. The best reason I can think of is the classic Survivor "vote for the least likely target so that they misplay an idol," but like... the villains don't need an idol right now. They have the numbers. They'd only need an idol if they flip someone (likely Gabby flipping to take out Yul, who would actively not want to target Grett) or if the heroes find an idol. It really seems like they aren't putting multiple idols in the game at the same time, so that would guarantee the villains wouldn't have one, meaning that the heroes could have their pick of targets. Why pick Grett in that case?

2: Gabby

Hopefully I am not in danger putting Gabby very high as accirax was last week. I think we're good from a meta level, though.

Gabby has very clearly been considering flipping on the villains and going back to the heroes, both for Grett's sake to get rid of Yul and because Ellie told her to watch her back and not truly trust the villains. Paired with Gabby being friendly with Tom at his elimination, rather than continuing to seek vengeance for Ellie, it really seems like her flipping is in the cards here. And, because the heroes need to get back on top eventually, I think that flip is going to go through successfully, rather than the villains taking her out as a preemptive strike or something.

It's definitely possible that if Gabby doesn't flip this episode, she might receive the heroes' votes again for... unknown reasons. I still don't super understand why they voted for her last time. But, if Gabby doesn't flip, I find it unlikely that the heroes would have the numbers to actually oust a villain, which means Gabby should be safe.

3: Jake

Mr. Plot Armor himself. Welcome back to the high parts of the list.

The thing is, even if Jake's meta armor is arguably wearing thin (he's already got things as resolved as they're probably gonna get for a while with Tom, and he's learning to make up with Aiden quickly), I don't really see the in-game reason for the villains to target him. Like... Jake is annoying and gullible. He causes the most rifts in the heroes' alliance, by far. Even if the villains have the numbers, it's still good to keep someone like that in the game so that, once the villains start looking to turn on each other, you don't have to worry as much about the straggling heroes pulling together the numbers for an uprising.

Also, if I had to guess, Jake is still going to be in the main game at the time of the losers' motel episode. I've been theorizing that that's going to be around final 5 or so; it'll be at a point where everyone who isn't in the very late game can be in it. This is because I think it's going to be a major place to wrap up plot threads/get people ready for the plot threads to be wrapped up in the season finale, so you want to make sure all your viable characters are in place to get their character development.

It's definitely possible that Tom and Jake are going to make up in the losers' motel episode. That would be the most viable reason for Jake to be there, in my opinion. My personal take, though, is that Tom will probably get himself to be really ready to talk to Jake in the losers' motel episode, probably talking to Miriam again or something, and then Jake would pick Tom as his person in the finale, and they could make up there.

In any case, I'd be pretty surprised if Jake went down here, for both in-universe reasons and for meta reasons. He's just at the center of so many plot threads. I think they want to take the time to set up some more, new plot threads before cutting Jake, if they intend to do so.

4: Connor

I'm going to open this by saying that I have no idea what to make of Connor as a character. I never have, and it's quite possible I never will. So, sorry Connor stans, I have NO idea where this man is going.

However! I do know that if they're going to burn their back from the dead slot on Connor, they're planning on him doing... something. Like, literally anything. I guess he did pull the heroes together to vote together last time, but... they didn't actually eliminate a villain to seize the majority. I just feel like if his fate was to rally the heroes, then immediately get kicked out again before reaping any of the benefits, it would feel... weird? Like, he should get at least one victory. He has to talk to Riya, at least, and from the trailer, it doesn't seem like there's a big impending Connor/Riya conversation.

So, I kinda have Connor here strictly for narrative reasons. My biggest hesitation with putting him so high is the part last episode where Riya and Yul talk about how dead Connor is once he doesn't have immunity, which was important enough dialogue that it made the episode trailer. That definitely seems... shady, for Connor's survival odds. But also, it seems like he's kicking Yul's ass in the episode preview, so maybe Connor just wins and that prophecy waits for another day!

5: Alec

This is definitely not just me believing in Alec's viability to survive. This is definitely based on logic and evidence. (<- is an Alec stan)

I was worried about him last episode, but I believed he'd make it out alive, and look! He did! He won immunity! He probably won't win a third one in a row, but I think that last immunity bought him some time.

Now that the villains have the majority, they have to lose it or face an idol in order to lose it. I think an idol would feel kind of cheap here, though; the villains won the tie 5-5 vote twice already. Having them lose that lead AGAIN to an idol, putting the numbers back even at 4-4, is a bit repetitive. I don't really know which of the villains would flip on Alec specifically to take him out, or at least at this point. I could definitely see a late game situation where, Fiore style, Riya flips on Alec to take him out as the biggest threat to win, but for right now, Alec is a useful ally. He's proven repeatedly that he's loyal to the villains alliance and can help out other villains, like how he helped Gabby win the tiebreaker challenge.

I definitely feel like Alec is being set up to be the main villain of the season. That could mean he's the first villain of the post-merge villains' alliance to be defeated, but I think it's much more likely he'll make a deeper run.

6: Riya

I didn't really know where to put Riya. I don't feel like there's a whole lot keeping her in the game, necessarily, but I also don't feel like she's in imminent danger. Six it is, I guess.

Basically, I think if a villain is going to go home this episode, it'll be Yul. He's the one who's had his downfall most specifically set up, and I think the heroes are going to take the advantage by flipping Gabby to take him out. As a result, I feel like the other villains are pretty safe, all things considered. Riya was much more threatened when the heroes could take their shot at anyone on the 50/50. Now that the villains have the advantage, Riya has much more built-in protection.

I'm not sure exactly where Riya is going to place overall. She made a deep run last time, but she also wasn't behaving the same way for most of last game, so they might want her to make a genuine deep run again. Then again, it's not like anyone who's made it this far is having a short run, and I could easily believe they'll call it quits on Riya content sometime soon. Especially given that Riya and Aiden might be talking again this episode-- that's one of the major plot threads with her that still feels unresolved. I guess she should also technically be safe until she talks to Connor, based on my Connor logic?

7: Ally

Let it be known that I struggled with exactly how to rank these last three. I think that any of them could very plausibly be going out this episode.

My big hangup with Ally in both directions is that I feel like she hasn't done much of anything for a while. The most memorable thing she's done in recent memory is talk to Tess during the returnee challenge and yell at Jake in the space challenge. Since her relationship with Jake is kinda being treated as the less important version of Jake and Aiden's, I don't really know where that leaves her. Plus, her most important connections are to people in the losers' motel.

Something that's working against Ally is that I do think she'll be in the losers' motel by the losers' motel episode. Things haven't been resolved between her and Hunter (and Tess. Believe in the polycule), and they pretty clearly indicated that they wanted to wait until after the game to discuss things further. That means this isn't a character relationship struggle that we can realistically solve during the finale challenge; they need to talk this out AFTER the game. Plus, Ally's fixation with how the audience is perceiving her means that it might be interesting to see her get to actually witness the audience's opinions of her, which is only possible from outside of the game.

That being said, none of that means Ally needs to get booted this episode. She easily could, but it's also very possible she's still got more plot to get through.

The biggest thing threatening Ally, imo, is that she's the most generically expendable hero at this point. If the writers want another round of "yeah, the heroes are still losing" and a round where the status quo doesn't really change, Ally is the best boot option. That being said, I feel like we're entering a time period where the writers do want to shake up the status quo, which is why I don't have her at the very bottom.

8: Yul

I thought Yul was 100% going home last episode. Then, I thought he was 100% going home this upcoming episode. Now, I think he's most likely to go home the episode after that.

Yul is very clearly gonna get flipped on and eliminated one of these days. His villainy is too villainous, and much like Alec worried about, if Yul sucks too much, all the villains are gonna have to pay the price for it. We're at 9 now. Why wouldn't Gabby flip now and send Yul home? It's definitely a possibility, and a pretty likely one at that.

The thing is, Gabby taking out Yul for Grett's sake isn't necessarily the whole story. I feel like part of the point with Grett is that she needs to stand up for herself, too. The reason why I like Yul going down at final 8 instead of final 9 is that you'd need Grett to flip, too, to send Yul home. I think it'd leave the game state in a much more interesting place if Gabby and Grett agree to flip to take out Yul, but afterwards, the villains still have a tentative majority if they decide to work together. It makes it much more nuanced than "Gabby flips on Yul and now the heroes have the advantage for the rest of the game."

That being said, it's very possible I'm just overthinking this and Yul's ass is GONE. I'd definitely believe it. Part of me still kinda thinks that's the most likely, even if it's not the verdict I actually ended up going with.

9: Aiden

Sorry king, but you might be slaying too close to the sun.

If I'm right and the Gabby flip doesn't happen this episode, that means a hero is almost certainly going down. I don't think it'll be Jake or Connor, which really left it between Ally and Aiden. My basic logic is that Aiden feels like he has more plot threads wrapping up.

Aiden has been playing for himself for a while now, after his declaration post-James and Lake boots. He was friends with Tom, he's making up with Jake, he's confronting Riya. That's, like, most of what he's got going on this season. It's definitely possible that the reason they're investing more in Jake and Aiden's relationship than Jake and Ally's is because they're going to last longer, but personally, I'm more thinking it's because Aiden is going to get voted off first.

Plus, I feel like he's a pretty good target for the villains. Most people like Aiden and want to work with him, plus he seems like someone who'd be pretty opposed to working with any of the villains under any circumstances. The villains are going to have to choose who to target. If I'm roughly hypothesizing that Connor wins immunity, and Jake is the most likely to cause fractures in the heroes' alliance, that only leaves Ally or Aiden. I think, if I were the villains, I'd be more likely to see Ally as a potential asset and Aiden as a potential threat than the other way around.

Besides, I do think it's possible that they're going to want to use losers' motel episode to get the audience some Jaiden content. We didn't get much in the returnee episode, soooo...

Wrap-Up

Thanks for listening! I'm excited to be able to watch Disventure Camp in real time from here on out, especially given that we're getting new content every week. I'm just gonna put some other half-baked theories at the end here as bonus content because I don't have enough to make a whole post:

I think Jake is the most likely winner pick, but I also think Gabby is a really viable winner. She's going to be a pivotal piece of why the villains took charge when they did, and, I suspect, a pivotal piece of why the heroes were able to fight back. Narratively, that could make her a satisfying winner pick. It would also be a way to potentially get Ellie some of the money without Ellie having to continue to subject herself to the game, which has proven to be bad for her.

I think Derek is going to get offered a promotion-- specifically, taking Emily's place, to an extent. I forget exactly what Emily was supposed to be handling (the confessionals, maybe?), but the fact of the matter is, there should be a non-intern spot opening up in the payroll. This would be a natural but concrete way to continue escalating Derek getting favored over Trevor, which I think is good. Derek and Trevor's plotline is probably supposed to last for most of the season, which means we still need a lot more developments before it can be properly resolved.

Alec will adopt Fiore. Alec WILL adopt Fiore. Alec will--

This isn't a theory, but I do wonder if the fact that Connor hypothetically should still own the losers' motel will be relevant at all ever? That was probably just a one-off joke, but still.

Rambles over! Looking forward to the next episode!

#disventure camp #dcas #disventure camp spoilers #dcas spoilers #disventure camp power rankings #now i get to hear what accirax said woo!#it will be so funny if we try to do these separately and end up with the exact same answers. the mind meld is real #update: oh they are not the same

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freelystrangenight · 2 years ago

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Rating every Eurovision final performance until I get bored (tw: opinions):

1) Austria : 9/10 not the greatest thing since sliced bread but a solid vibe, my kinda weird and pleasant musically, like the "ghostly" harmonies, scrarch my brain pleasantly, and as English lit student I appreciate poe.

2) Portugal: 5/10 not bad but legit don't remember anything and it just finished; piano riff sounded like I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor

3) Switzerland: 4,5/10 feels very general-pop; good lyrics but the arrangement/melody makes me kinda too bored to really listen; formal line sounded like "Sk8ter boy" by Avril Lavigne

4) Poland (motherland, I'm so not proud, WHY): 4/10 song is generic summer radio pop, nothing original but honestly not the worst I've heard, tho I'm pretty sure I have heard a Latino/Spanish pop song at least very similar; also unfortunately heard fragments of this before and this performance is not too bad for her, at least she worked on it; why the dance solo (pun intended hehe) exists tho

5) Serbia: 6/10 man, the boi is pretty, but can he sing? Apparently not really 😬 visually interesting performance, auditorily not so much 😭 (dunno if it's a word). Points for originality tho, but will not stream.

6) France: 8/10 Strong vocals. Song is definitely not what I initially expected, which makes it more interesting. Really vibing. Honestly didn't find anything I didn't like aside from the length of her nails but their hers not my business. Maybe not "Eurovision crazy" enough to win but still love it

7) Cyprus: 3,5/10 pleasant voice but nothing special yet; song feels ESC-generic, don't like the falsetto high notes. Lyrics feel like AI generated broken heart song

8) Spain: 8/10 kinda arabic vibes? Great vibes, song very original, not my personal fave, but still amazing quality-wise imo.

9) Sweden 7/10 Loreen my girl this isn't Euphoria -level :( not bad, but nothing special, tho the singing is mostly amazing. Her nails are a safety hazard, sorry to the French lady.

10) Albania: 5,5/10 very Eastern vibe. Original enough, the main lady sings great, but the song doesn't really resonate with me so far. Don't like the dude.

11) Italy: 9.5/10 sounds like a generic pop but in Italian, and I like his bedazzled top. Ok, nvm, song is not groundbreaking but his voice makes up for it. Not sure if win material but "add to playlist material" for sure. Im pretty sure I've just heard "calzone" in there, prolly incorrect but don't care, extra point

12) Estonia: 9/10 not the most innovative but has 'something', like it so far. Would fit a fantasy soundtrack, maybe that's what has me hooked. The auto-playing piano cracks me up tho, same with the wrist-belts, but those take nothing from the performance.

13) Finland: 6/10 heard it all over Tiktok through last week and am fed up with it😬 is a vibe, but after too many times imo plain annoying. Points for the outfit, personally hate it but is already iconic. Unfortunately song is even more irritating live :/ but also frustratingly catchy, gonna be stuck in my head

14) Czechia: 7/10 was loving the slavicness, wish it didn't switch to English, ruins the vibe, also Female Power points. The performance doesn't give much to watch, but nice to listen to.

15) Australia: 8/10 yeah, never saw a dude in a car on stage before. I like the song very much, but not the most original in the genre. But, might be on of the best ones tonight.

16) Belgium 4/10 generic EDM pop, gives the same vibe as Be My Lover by La Bouche but worse and with Positive Message™️

17) Armenia: 6,5/10 pretty but? Im gonna forget about it in 5 mins or make it my personality for the next 10 days, but option 1 is more probable.

18) Moldova: 9/10 don't know what's going on but in a good way. I think this song may be doing to me what Chachacha was supposed to, tho it's not the greatest thing. (Got a bit bored in the edm interlude)

19) Ukraine: 3/10 feels like they knew what they wanted to say but unfortunately needed to make it into a song. Don't like it at all tbh, but organs in the background are cool.

20) Norway: 10/10 my fave!!!!! Haven't heard the beginning yet! Sounds like she has stage fright:( love tho pls win? Love how she looks like she's enjoying herself

21) Germany: 6/10 why is their leader cosplaying Vecna from ST???? Song stands out but, feels generic at the same time?

22) Lithuania: 6,5/10 life story but make it Disney soundtrack. Nothing we haven't heard on ESC before, but not bad. Pretty visual display .

23) Israel: 3/10 ummm no. Shame it isn't in a language I don't know, would like it much better. Like the voice, and the instrumentals at the beginning, but that's it. No, I didn't wanna see you dance. Choreo is nice tho.

24) Slovenia: 9,5/10 sounds like something I usually would like (i think(on second thought no, not really)) but I do. Guy has a good voice, love their energy, somehow they look friendly.

25) Croatia: 10/10 gay sailors who's mother bought a tractor? Eurovision at it's finest 😂 this one stands out like nothing else

26) UK: 2/10 don't be boring pls!!! Ok, you are ;( the intro was promising, then she started to sing... Nothing criminally bad, would bear it on the radio, but boring af

Disclaimer: I now nothing or next to nothing about the artists, their backgrounds etc. Also my ratings don't reflect any predictions as to who may win.

#eurovison song contest #eurovision 2023 #Eurovision final #esc

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nightlocktime · 6 months ago

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OH MY GOD YOU'VE SEEN THE SHOW!!!!!!! IVE BEEN SUFFERING ALONE!!! The absolute agony and heartbreak I experienced during that finale. Cried for the entire 67 minutes. Nearly threw up. Cried all night and fully was bursting into tears about them for like 3 days after i finished. philip and elizabeth are EVERYTHING!!! he loved her so goddamn much and she loved him so goddamn much and that fucking finale!! henry cant come with us and stan letting them leave the garage and paige getting off the train and stan quietly saying i;m gonna kill him even though he already let them go and MAYBE WE WOULD'VE MET. ON A BUS. THEY'LL REMEMBER US. THEY'RE NOT KIDS ANYMORE. WE RAISED THEM. YES. IM CRYING LITERALLY SENDING THIS MESSAGE IT STILL GETS ME and no emmys for keri or noah or alison wright?? just nonsensical

OH NO! I wish I knew you were watching, I'd have loved to be the receiver of screams and I'd have supported you through THE pain. I'm a huge fan of the show, I have it all in my hard drive. I won't let any streaming service keep it away from me lmao.

I think you and I had the same reaction to the finale, I was A MESS (still am). I kept talking about it for weeks to my family, tbh they never watched the show but knew all about it because every week I'd take them hostage and make them listen to me gushing about it hehe

THAT FINALE! Like like they lived, they are together, they escaped and YET!!! It's all SO SAD! The sound Elizabeth does when she realizes Philip is right about leaving Henry behind??? It's seared in my mind, it haunts me to this day. THE GARAGE SCENE! *cheff kiss* the way Stan starts addressing only Page to break her alksdjf, "You were my best friend" "Renee might be one of us" JESUS!! Also the top comedy of Elizabeth being offended about the statement that they killed people, I still laugh about it. I started giffing it all!!! And for reasons outside my power couldn't finish BUT I STILL HAVE THE PS FILE SAVED BECAUSE ONE DAY I'LL DO IT!

Fun fact, when the finale aired I was not a fan that they chose With Or Without You for the train scene. I like the song but at the moment I felt I didn't help to deliver the punch (not that it needed any help), it's been 6 years now and every time I hear the song it fucking breaks me lmao

KERI NEVER GETTING AN AWARD IS MY VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY. I GET SO MAD THINKING ABOUT IT. FREAKING RIDICULOUS

Also I love that you mentioned Alison Wright, SHE'S SO GOOD I LOVE HER and used to think A LOT about Martha's life in Russia alskjdfaf and and daydreamed scenarios of she running into them at some point, fun times.

#I'm going to stop myself because I could go on and on #what a show man #thelillykane #the americans #night replies #(nightmade)#thank you for writing to me about it #I love to talk about my tragic russian parents

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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claimed || alpha!Andy Barber x reader

summary: an interrogation with an alpha is no place to have an unexpected heat.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (dub con; the reader goes into heat and can’t think clearly enough to say no), a/b/o dynamics, loss of virginity, mentions of misogyny/discrimination against omegas, vague noncon and violence references, kinda housewife kink, possessiveness, breeding kink, praise, overstimulation, knotting, slight bondage (reader is handcuffed), slight pain kink, implied/subtle age gap, pregnancy mention at the end, kinda soft!dark andy but he's really not that dark

"This would be a lot easier for both of us if you started telling the truth."

You chewed your lip, looking away from the man across from you; it was impossible to keep eye contact when his gaze bore into you like that, when he gave you that stern, dominating look.

Andy Barber was so obviously an alpha, he was one of those types that just reeked of it. Figuratively— with the way he towered over you, his masculine body and strong features— but also literally considering his scent was filling the room now: pine, cinnamon, sage, and something a little bit sweet that made your mouth water.

It made sense for an alpha like him to have a high-powered, high-pressure career like this; he probably got a real kick out of squeezing information out of scared betas who couldn’t stand up to him.

And that was the role you were going to play now, because he was wrong: it would not be easier if you told the truth. If he knew what you really were, you’d be doomed.

You’d been hiding successfully as a beta for a long time by now, and you weren’t about to give it up now, even if it would likely have the charges against you dismissed. Omegas lived sheltered, oppressed lives; sought constantly by alphas, they had their pick of the finest since omegas were so rare, but until mated they were extremely vulnerable— and afterwards they were usually made to be subservient housewives, constantly bearing children as a consequence of their extreme fertility.

Maybe some omegas were okay with that, plenty probably loved that lifestyle since it was sort of the instinctual habit of an omega by nature, but not you. Never you. You wanted a life, a real life, your own life as more than an alpha’s mate. Thankfully you’d found the right mix of suppressants and perfumes to hide your scent, the right work schedule so you could always be home for your rare heats, and voila: to the rest of the world, you were a beta.

Being a beta meant being unnoticed, unacknowledged, never pursued and never courted. And that was exactly how you wanted it.

If Andy Barber knew that the man you’d stabbed was an alpha trying to force himself on you, there was a chance he would understand that it was self-defense and let you go. Then again, a lot of alphas seemed to think that being forced to mate was just par for the course for an omega; surely Andy wouldn’t be one of those types, as a man of the law, right?

“I can’t,” you finally answered.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he assured, some of his anger shifting to a soothing tone. It really did calm you down; he must have been using his ‘alpha voice’ on you, and the fact that it worked should’ve been a red flag but you didn’t notice. “Let’s start from the beginning. You said you were at home but no one has confirmed your alibi. You said you didn’t know the victim but you obviously reacted when I showed you his picture. And, you said you weren’t there at the time of the murder but we found your DNA on the body.”

A little smile pulled at the corner of your lips, exactly not the reaction Andy had been expecting. “You’re lying,” you whispered.

He tensed up as you called his bluff. The DNA found at the scene was in the process of being analysed, sure, but it would be weeks until the results came back. “How can you be so sure?” he pressed.

“Because I. Wasn’t. There,” you hissed, glaring back at him; he shook his head solemnly..

“No, that’s not it. I can tell when you’re lying, too, you know,” he warned. “Tell me how you know I don’t have your DNA at the scene?”

“Because… because…” you breathed, blinking a few times as the room started to get warmer. Your head was spinning, your thighs clenched together— and when Andy reached out to rest his hand on yours and ask if you were alright, his touch sent it all into overdrive.

No, no, it wasn't your time yet. It shouldn't have come for a few more days, and you’d arranged to be bailed out tomorrow so you’d go into your cycle safely at home and not in jail. But now it was beginning and you had no way to stop it. Had the smell of an alpha really been enough to start your heat early?

Andy watched you start to pant and sweat with a furrowed brow, unsure what he was witnessing because he’d never had the opportunity to see it before. His ex-wife had been a beta, he'd never even met an omega before— they were quite rare after all.

But what he lacked in experience, he made up for in instinct; his body told him everything he needed to know about what he was seeing. “Omega,” he growled lowly, watching your whole body erupt into shivers at the timbre of his voice.

As far as alphas go, Andy was relatively level-headed, not as preoccupied with instinctual desires to dominate, to claim, to impregnate. A lot of alphas viewed mating with a beta as settling, although it was the much more likely outcome, statistically speaking. Andy, though, never really saw it that way, even knowing how much harder it would be to have a child with a beta. Their fertility was significantly weaker, both the males and the females, and Jacob was the product of years of trying; in all their marriage him and Laurie had never used any contraceptives and she only got pregnant the once.

But an omega? Especially a young one like you? He could knock you up right now, if he wanted. That power was intoxicating. It was exactly what he never knew he needed so badly.

“I don’t need the results of your DNA to know what you are,” he explained firmly. “I can’t believe I didn’t know before— you must have tried really hard to keep it a secret, little one. You must be so afraid of who you are… and who I am, for that matter. It must scare you to imagine what I could do to you.”

You whimpered, the noise tugging his heart in conflicting directions; to comfort you, or to make you do it again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you think,” he assured. “Not if I can help it…”

Honestly, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to help it; he felt his own sanity slipping as he watched you writhe and cry, instinct overtaking logic in the both of you.

"Alpha, please," you shuddered, the title making his cock harden instantly, uncomfortably filling the trousers of his suit.

"You smell so good," he purred, taking his jacket off as he stood up to cool off a bit. "I can smell your heat, Omega. I bet everyone in the building can—” he glanced to the locked door— “but I'm the only one here."

"Need you," you whined, tugging on the handcuffs that kept you bound to the table.

"Stand up, bend over," he commanded, and he'd barely finished speaking when you'd already done it, bent at the hips with your forearms resting on the table as you waited for him. "Good girl."

He rolled up his sleeves and took his place behind you, caging his body in with yours, nuzzling into your neck to get a deep breath of your scent.

"Fuck, so sweet," he groaned. "Waited so long for this. To feel an Omega on my cock. Never thought it would really happen. Has an Alpha ever taken you before?"

"No, I never… no."

"Not just unclaimed but a virgin. Christ, am I dreaming?"

But he was too far gone to take any more time to appreciate his luck— he needed you now, and he was taking you all for himself.

If he wasn't so overcome with need he wouldn't have thought to tear your clothes off, but now he didn't even think to question the idea, shedding you of your clothes like they were made of paper until you were completely exposed to him, your wet core vulnerable while another wave of your sweet scent filled the room.

"Look at all this," he grinned, kneeling down to lap at your folds and taste your slick. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your channel craving to be filled. "All for me, Omega?"

"Yours, it's all yours…"

"Doesn't it feel good to be claimed, little one? To be owned?"

"S-so good," you agreed. "Want your knot, Alpha. Want your mark."

A growl echoed in his chest when you said that, and he craved nothing more than to bite your neck and bond you to him for life.

But, it would be better if he saved that for a little later.

He stood up again and gave your ass a quick slap— nothing too rough, just enough to make you yelp all cute and whiny— before grabbing your hips to pull them back into his. You gasped and pushed back onto him, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the thick outline of his cock.

"Gonna make a mess on me with all that slick, Omega," he growled, but it was by no means discouragement.

"Want it in me, please," you sobbed. Unable to resist your begging anymore, he hastily opened his belt and fly, sighing with relief when he wrapped his hand around his cock and pulled it out. Your whole body visibly quaked when he swiped the swollen head through your folds, coating himself in your plentiful arousal.

Without any further warning, he pushed his cock in with a loud moan, a cry tearing from your throat as he tore into your body. "Shh," he soothed as his fingers rubbed your spine, "that's my girl, that's my pretty Omega."

But pain wasn't really your issue; it hurt, yes, but what made you cry was that you were already on the edge, about to come from hardly anything. When he thrusted once, you lost it and your legs quivered as a new wave of slick started to dribble down them.

"Are you coming?" he asked darkly.

You could only nod, biting your lip to try to keep from moaning too loudly.

"Oh my god…" he groaned, amazed at how sensitive you were. Clearly he wasn't the only one realizing how powerful and incredible it could be when an alpha and omega mated.

He started to really pound into you then, each brutal thrust knocking you forward.

"Feels good when you come for me, Omega. Do it again."

You couldn't help yourself; his voice had complete control over your body, his words a command you were helpless to resist. With a broken whimper you came again, walls squeezing his cock in a weak and stuttered rhythm.

"It's better than they say it is. Even better than I imagined. So fucking good," he sighed. It felt so right, that was the thing. It felt like your body was made to be claimed and owned by him.

"Want your knot," you whined, "please, Alpha—"

"If I give you my knot, you're mine. My Omega. You will never allow another Alpha to touch you. You will not speak to another Alpha, look at another Alpha, even Betas are off-limits. When I bite you, you'll be bonded to me and become my wife, you'll never disobey me or leave me. When I knot you, you'll give me a child. Is all of that perfectly clear?"

It was everything you'd wanted to avoid just an hour ago. Now it was your greatest dream come true. "Yes, Alpha. Yours, Alpha."

"Want to be bred, Omega? Bred by your Alpha?"

"Please!" you sobbed.

"Then keep coming and I'll let you have it soon," he promised. "I'll give you all my come like you need so badly."

You whimpered as your walls seemed to try to suck him in deeper, gripping him so tight that it made his head spin. Orgasm after orgasm washed over you, too many and too numb to count, each part of you slowly stripped away and replaced with pure, all-consuming pleasure.

The base of his cock began to swell and you mewled proudly— that is, until, it just kept growing and you couldn't imagine taking anymore.

"P-pull it out," you begged instead.

"I told you that you would take my knot, was I not clear?"

But you hadn't realized how big it would get, how far it would stretch you— and it was still going. "It hurts, Alpha, please!"

"You'll get used to it, gonna keep it in you all night and give it to you every day so you'll have plenty of practice. Take my fucking knot while I come inside you and breed your cunt."

When his knot finally grew to its full potential, streams of hot come began to fill you, deeper than you had ever imagined possible. It was overwhelming, apparently unending, and one final orgasm rocked your body as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

He wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close and soothing you as you shivered and cried, his kisses trailing up your shoulder to your neck where, finally, he sunk his teeth into your skin and left his mark on you.

Your walls quivered around him at the feeling of being claimed, mated for life. In that moment you didn't notice or care that it was to a man you barely knew; he was your Alpha now, that was all that mattered.

He kissed and licked over the sensitive bitemark, whispering praises your ringing ears couldn't quite process yet.

At least you were getting bailed out a day early.

Andy kept his promise about exactly how owned you would be. For the first few months you didn't even leave the house, he was too busy filling you with his cock every day. Although he was happy to claim you anywhere he happened to find you— the shower where he hopped in randomly, the kitchen where he bent you over the counter, the living room where he pinned you onto the couch— his favorite place was the bed. It was rougher and more animalistic in the other places, but in bed he was possessive in an entirely different way.

"My wife, my sweet little wife," he whispered in your ear as he slowly thrust all the way into you, making your back arch until your chest pushed against his. "My Omega. All mine."

"Yours," you agreed.

The protectiveness increased tenfold when your scent changed during pregnancy, even more when you started showing; he was obsessed with the way you looked full of his baby.

As for you, omega life was better than you'd expected. At times you felt smothered by him, but simultaneously you felt worshipped and loved like you never thought you could deserve. He certainly spoiled you, though he expected your unwavering loyalty in return.

That part was easy, though. Love, not fear, kept you in check when other alphas had a wandering eye. They knew you were mated, the bitemark scar (which Andy never, ever let you cover) and ring (which Andy never, ever let you take off) were sign enough along with the change in your scent to them. Occasionally one would shoot his shot and get unilaterally rejected by you before getting his ass kicked by your husband. If only they knew what you'd done to the last alpha that tried to creep on you; how you met Andy in the first place.

In the end, maybe it wasn't so bad to fall into your instincts, your natural role in society. Andy sure made it pretty enjoyable with the way he brought you to the height of pleasure over and over every night. "Mine," he promised you in deep whispers, "from the moment I saw you."

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #alpha!andy barber x omega!reader #I'll add tags when I get home later

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henry-and-the-seven-lords · 3 years ago

Text

Crying Some Sense

Lucifer x MC

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Prompt: "No, don't cry, I hate it when you cry."

Description: Lucifer has been put under house arrest and has been keeping himself in his office. His brothers and MC are worried, so they devise a plan to pull him out.

Warning: angst, slightly fluffy ending, Changing and possible spoiling of events from Lesson 14, there is also some threatening language so be weary of that

Levi and Mammon walk behind MC. They trudged through the damp grass behind the House of Lamentations as the sun begins to set.

"So are you sure this is going to work?" MC's voice sounds skeptical. Mammon's grand plan to get Lucifer out of the house while under arrest was for MC to touch the Grimoire Luke had picked up a few weeks earlier. This would have been easy, but recently it was moved to the mausoleum, where a certain three headed dog that only listened to Lucifer watched over it.

Mammon flashes them a smile, nodding as he walked, "Of course, ya touch it and he'll come bursting out of his office and we can talk about everything."

"Yeah, burstings right." Levi mumbled to himself before his voice began to raise, "Bursting with anger-" Levi is silence by his brother's hand as MC turns around.

"What did Levi say?" Fear filled their eyes as they watched Levi struggle in Mammon's grip.

"He just said, he'll be bursting with excitement! That's all!" His words are followed by an unconvincing laugh. MC stares at the two unconvinced before turning around. When MC starts walking again, Mammon smacks Levi's shoulder and whisper yells, "Keep your mouth shut. We don't need them freaking out even more."

Levi's eyes widened at his older brother as he whispered back, "You know it's true! Are you just going to throw them in front of Lucifer without telling them how mad he will be!?"

Mammon shushes him before checking on MC. As the wind began to howl, he answered his brother, "I was gonna figure that out when we got there. Now come on!"

Mammon grabbed Levi's arm and pulled him forward as they began to catch a glimpse of the rest of the party.

Within seconds the three were standing before Beel, Asmo, and Satan. It had become dark in the time it took Levi, Mammon, and MC to reach the outside of the mausoleum gates.

The wind began to whip around them fiercely as Asmo spoke, "Are you ready to talk to Lucifer?" His voice sounded sweet against the harsh wind.

"I-I think so." MC voice stuttered as the began to shiver against the cold night air.

When Beel heard their voice stutter, he walked over to them giving MC his jacket, "You know what to talk about, right?"

MC nodded at the tall demon, "I need to ask him about Belphie."

Satan nodded with a smile, "Correct. We'll be close by making sure Cerebrus stays out of your hair."

MC looked around, as best as they could in the dark, at all the brothers. Across everyone's faces was the same expression of sadness. These demons standing before them knew something that they did not and that terrified MC to their core.

Before long, Mammon's booming voice interrupted their thoughts, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

The Brothers led the way as MC walked behind them. The group was silent. A solemn, anxious air surrounded them as each foot crunched the grass below.

As they approached the entrance, Beel began to fall back and walk next to MC. He seemed anxious as well. This wasn't the first time MC had seem the gentle giant worry, but this was by far the worst it has ever been.

They glanced over and could see him playing with his fingers and sneaking glances at them as if he wanted to say something.

To ease his nerves, MC began the conversation, "Are you excited that you could see your twin again?"

A contented smiles passed Beel's face at MC's words, "Yeah... It really means a lot to me- to us. That you are doing this. That you are bringing our family back together."

MC smiled back. Beel's words warmed MC's heart and made the chills raking their body stop for just a moment, "It's the least I can do."

As MC finishes speaking, Mammon's voice yells over the wind to the group, "We're here."

Beel jogs up to the front of the group next to Mammon. The two begin to open the ornate stone doors leading into the mausoleum. Once the doors are pulled back, light floods their eyes blinding them for a second as they gaze into the cavernous tomb.

Mammon stands in the doorway puffing his chest and looking around to his brothers before he begins to speak once again.

"Asmo, Satan," He points to the pair, "You two go to the left and search for Cerebrus." He then gestures to the other two brothers and himself, "Levi, Beel, and I will go to the right." Mammon then turns his gaze from his brothers to MC, that sullen expression taking over his face once again. He walks up to them, gently placing his hand on their shoulders.

"You go dead center. Don't look back. Don't stop. No matter what you hear. You run to that book." As MC stared into his eyes they could see tears begin to prick the corners before he turned away saying, "Everyone got it?"

A resounding yes was heard and the group made their way in. They walked down a set of grand stone stairs.

MC stopped on the last stair as all the brothers looked at them. Asmo walked up to them grabbing their hands and speaking to them, "You wait here until you can't see us anymore. Then you start running." He looked into their eyes as he bent down and laid a gentle kiss on their hands.

All the Brothers looked at MC with sad eyes. Slowly they went up to them one at a time giving hugs and words of encouragement.

After all of their hugs were given, they split up and began to walk in different directions. MC stood and watched the brothers slowly disappear from their view until they were alone.

They stepped down gently taking a deep breath, before they began to sprint straight ahead.

As they ran, they could hear the pitter patter of soft feet to their left. The sound was then followed by a shout, "Over here, Cerebrus!" The voice sounded like Satan in the distance.

MC kept running as resounding shouts began to surround them on both sides. Mammon, Levi, Beel, Asmo, and Satan were all heard. Their voices seemed to echo off the walls and it became indistinguishable which side they were coming from.

After 5 minutes their legs began to burn as a statue came into view. They slowed before taking a breath and staring at the beautiful figure.

The towering statue was a young woman. Her face was solemn as her wings spread out from her back as if they were sheltering her. Her head was bent down and he hands were extended, almost as if she was giving an offering. In her hands, sat a black book.

"This must be the Grimoire everyone talked about." Their voice echoed in the mass of sound.

MC stepped closer inspecting the book. The black cover was made out of leather that had begun to crack. While the pages were thick and beginning to yellow creating a stark contrast of color.

They reached out their hands grabbing the book before looking around for the demon they came here to see.

The screaming that once filled the giant space stopped along with the sound of paws smacking against the floor. Everything was silent.

While waiting for something or someone to appear, MC became curious as to the books contents and began to flip through the pages.

As the pages fell open with a crinkle, the ground began to shake beneath them tearing their attention away from the Grimoire.

They looked up, before them stood Lucifer in his demon form. The ground below him was cracked and dust settled around him.

His gaze and aura is one of anger and determination as he begins to walk closer to MC.

"I see that you can't listen." His voice is steady and stern as he approaches.

MC's voice feels caught in their throat as they begin to step back to add some distance. As they did this, they shut the book and clutched it to their chest.

"I tell you to never touch this book, and yet here you are disobeying me once again." His eyes begin to flare red as MC hits the statue's hands, crawling on them to get away.

"Do you even know who I am? Do you know what you are defacing?" His expression looks crazed as his teeth become bared as he speaks.

MC finally finds their voice as they stare into his eyes, "I did this to help you. I wanted to talk about-"

"Help me!? You think this is helping me. Putting my entire family in danger just to get my attention." His voices raises to an ear piercing level as he continues, "Well now you have it!"

Silence once again overtakes the mausoleum as they stare into each other's eyes, "Oh? Now the mighty human is scared of me? It's too late for that."

Lucifer's bears his fangs and begins to reach for MC's body as they recoil deeper into the hands of the statue. They covered their face with their arms and squeeze their eyes shut bracing for impact.

Tears begin to prick the corners of their eyes and a sob shakes their body. They expect to feel an immeasurable amount of pain at the hands of one of their caretakers, but it never comes.

Slowly, MC peaks out from their curled up position to get a glimpse at the demon before them. His fangs are retracted and his demon form is gone as he stares wide eyed at the human.

They stare at him in the eyes as tears roll down their cheeks in droves.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Please no, don't cry, I hate it when you cry." They watched as one of the most powerful demons in all of the Devildom, the very demon that was about to rip them to shreds mere seconds ago, gently pulls them into his chest. He wraps his arms around their midsection like he had done before. He cradled their body delicately in his arms as if he was holding a glass sculpture.

MC listens to his heart beat thump erratically against one ear as he whispers in the other, "I never should have said that. I shouldn't have lashed out at you." He pauses, and MC can hear his heart's pace slow.

"I am just, so worried about Belphie. There is so much I still need to do to fix that problem. I thought, you were just going to make things worse."

He pulls them closer to his chest and MC feels hot tears fall onto their head, "How stupid am I, to let my rage overtake me and almost risk losing you as well."

MC's tears have slowed, but at his words, another river of them begins to trickle out. The two continue to cry in each other's arms for hours as they try to not only fix the problem, but work out their emotions.

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justaself-shipper · 3 years ago

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Golden Guard x Reader- True Colours

A/N: I wanted to get back into the swing of things before redoing the requests. There may or may not be a few Amphibia references in here…since i watched it quite recently... Spoilers for Hunting Palisman. Also anyone get the reference of the title?

Being in the Emperor’s Coven wasn’t easy. From battling monsters and demons to rogue witches and a certain human, I was surprised I was still alive. A regular guard was just a pawn for the Emperor. Yet, I had no choice, since my parents had already planned my future while I was still young. I wanted to make them proud, and I really did try. But it seems like being a normal guard in the Emperor’s Coven wasn’t enough. I needed to go bigger, eliminate anyone in my way if I had to. I was going to do it for them, and for my lost Palisman, Froggit. (IT WAS THE ONLY THING THAT CAME TO MIND-) Standing at attention, I watched all the servants and guards walk by. I was assigned outside the Throne room today. Kikimori happened to be walking by as the door opened. She gasped. “Golden Guard?! You’re alive! I heard about the crash-“ The “Golden Guard” came into view. He greeted Kiki, and I had the time to observe him. He was about my age, with blonde hair, red eyes, and a scar on his right cheek. As he walked away from Kikimori, he looked my way. I hadn’t realised I had turned to face them. Quickly standing to attention, I stiffened as he stopped in front of me. “Sir.” I saluted. He raised an eye-brow, looking at my badge. (Ima just pretend the badges have names engraved into them in small lettering or something). “Haven’t seen you around here much. When did you join the Emperor’s Coven?” He asked casually. I glared through my mask. “Two weeks ago, sir.” I replied, trying my best to keep my voice calm. He smiled. “Well, miss ‘Y/N’, it’s nice to meet you. The names Hunter.” I didn’t reply back. After a few minutes of silence, he sighs. “Welp, I better be going. See you around.” As he walked away, I let my shoulders relax a bit. Glaring after him, I watched him disappear. So, a higher rank, right? Well, we’ll see about that. Don’t try to chit-chat me, Hunter. You’re nothing but a rival. Later that evening… I let out a yawn. It was late, and I was the only guard patrolling this side of the castle. Lifting my mask to rub my tired eyes, I heard a loud bang, followed by yelp of pain. “Palisman!” Someone hissed. Pulling my mask back down, I held my staff out. “COME OUT! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!” I yelled out. There was nothing but silence. Turning a corner, I caught someone running away, carrying something. “Hey!” I gave chase, following the intruder down the corridors. As I ran, I realised they seemed to know exactly where they were going. Running by halls that lead to dead ends, and avoiding doors that entered into closed off rooms. Using my staff, I sped up, running in front of the witch. He came to a stop, almost tripping. Holding out my staff, I was about to zap him, when I realised it was Hunter. A small, red bird Palisman sat on his shoulder. I smirked under my mask. Hiding a Palisman? One that has wild magic? This was treason. Oh, Emperor Belos is going to love this. “You stay here.” I stated, using a spell to keep him in place. As he struggled, I began to walk off. If he’d been keeping a wild Palisman, who knew what he could do with it. Best to retrieve back-up, and quickly. As I turned my back, he yelled out to me. “Wait! Don’t tell Belos!” Ignoring him, I continued. “I know what he does to them! He kills them!” Stopping, I turned back to the Golden Guard. “What do you mean by that?” I questioned cautiously. Hunter closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. “Emperor Belos isn’t a witch. I don’t know what he is, or what happened to him. All I know is that he uses the magic in the Palismans to keep himself powerful and in a stable condition.” My mind went to Froggit, my Palisman before I joined the Coven. He went missing as soon as I joined…he couldn’t have… “Y-you’re lying, aren’t you?” I growled. The Palisman sitting on his shoulder chirped. After a moment of silence, I released the Golden guard. Turnng my back to him once again, I growled under my breath. “Get out of here before I change my mind.” Hunter didn’t need to be asked twice. Making sure the Palisman wasn’t hurt, he left, returning to his dorm. About an hour later, another guard took over my shift. Rushing back to my dorm, I leaned against the door. It couldn’t be true. Emperor Belos would never hurt my Palisman, would he? I let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t have…right? Finishing up my carving, I stared lovingly at the Frog as I held it up to the sunlight. “And done! Welcome to the world little buddy!” I whispered, blowing the flakes away. Smiling widely, I placed the wooden frog on my bedside table. All I had to do now was wait. He should wake up in a few minutes. Leaning back on my bed, I picked up my book, looking at all the human creatures inside. I loved looking at all the pictures, and even chose one as my Palisman. There were so many amazing creatures, for awhile I couldn’t pick. I had finally settled for a “frog”, since they sounded so amazing. Hearing a croak, I looked up from my book. My new Palisman had woken up, and was crawling around and curiously peering at the objects on my bed stand. “Hey there little guy.” I cooed, picking him up. He let out another croak. “Welcome to the Boiling Isles! You’re so cute!” He tilted his head curiously in my direction, letting out another excited croak. Giggling, I gently pet him. “I’ll keep you safe Froggit. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” I jolted awake, rubbing my teary eyes as I sat up. Silent sobs threatened to erupt from my throat. Taking a few minutes to calm myself, I inhaled slowly. This wasn’t a coincidence, wasn’t it? Froggit was gone, and I had failed to protect him. He had probably died a horrible death, scared and all alone. Checking the window, I noticed the sun was rising. I had to get ready for today. As I stood up, I felt my stomach squirm in guilt. Looking around my room, i grabbed a satchel, collecting things and preparing. I had to get out of here. I was NOT going to work with a Coven that murdered my Palisman, no matter what my parents say. I would have failed them, but nothing was worse than knowing I had failed my Palisman, my only friend. A loud knock came from the door. Looking up, I stared hard at the door. Who could that be? I’m not late for something, am I? The knocking came again. Walking over, I opened the door to find Kikimori there. She seemed to be glaring daggers into my soul, even though she was way shorter than me. “The Emperor wants to speak with you immediately.” She stated, walking away. Why does the Emperor want to see me? I took off my mask as I stood in front of the throne room. My knees shook thinking over the things the Golden Guard had said the night previously. The Emperor wasn’t who I thought he was, and that thought alone terrified me. Clutching my mask, I opened the doors. Mutterings were coming from the other side of the room as I entered. Walking along the corridor, I took note that a few guards, as well as the Golden Guard and Emperor Belos were in the room. Belos was talking to the Golden Guard, but stopped when I entered. I bowed down to the Emperor, as I felt his eyes bare into my soul. “You must be Y/N L/N, right? Hunter has told me so much about you.” He stated. I bowed my head, keeping an eye on Hunter. He seemed to be distracted, since he didn’t seem to be paying attention to us. “He’s told me of all your hard work so far, and that you’re trust worthy. So, I have made up my mind.” He stood up, grabbing onto his staff. What was he doing? “You’ve been moved up to Captain of the guards, since ours has…retired. How does that sound?” Shocked, I glanced up to Hunter. His eyes were averted, refusing to look at me. “I-it’s an honour, my lord…” I stuttered. “B-but, I-i’m just a humble guard, there’s no need to put me as Captain so soon-“ I was cut off as something headed my way, barely missing me by a hair. I stiffened, following the pointed object toward the Emperor. It was….his…arm…. He took the object away. “I'm afraid you don’t have a choice in this matter. Your first mission starts tonight. You’ll be accompanied by Hunter. You’ll be given your badge in the morning.” He waves his hand, signifying I could leave. I nodded. “Y-yes, my Lord.” With that, I placed my helmet back on, walking briskly out of the room. Opening the door, I jumped a little when Kikimori was waiting on the other side. She said nothing, just simply glared at me then left. After watching her disappear around the corner, I let out an angry sigh. What was I gonna do? Later that night…. The Golden Guard was standing beside me, steering the ship we flew in. There was an awkward silence for the first 10 minutes of the flight, with both of us avoiding eye contact. Apparently, we were meant to be looking for Palismans. “So…everything you said the other night was true.” I mumbled. The Golden guard hummed in response. “Unfortunately, yes.” Another silence ensured. “I wasn’t expecting him to make you Captain. I just wanted to help you out a bit, since you helped me. I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you wanted…” I let out a sigh. “It’s fine." That’s when he turned to me. His eyes were filled with sympathy. “I’m also sorry about your Palisman…” I whipped around to face him. “How-“ “It’s not hard. Everyone has a Palisman when they first arrive. They disappear after the first week, and given a “new and improved” staff. It’s becoming more common. Only a few are allowed to keep their Palismans.” He stated, his brows furrowing as his gaze returned to the horizon. “You seem to know a fair bit.” I said. He shrugged. “One of the few perks of being the Emperor’s right-hand man.” I nodded understandingly. Being right-hand man couldn’t have been easy. There would’ve been many people trying to back-stab him. I WAS one of them.

“…what was it like? Your Palisman?” He asked curiously. I smiled under my mask. “He was my best friend. A lot of people questioned why I chose a monster from the human realm, but it didn’t matter. I loved him almost like my own child…” I felt the tears threatening to overflow once again. Hunter smiled. “He sounded nice.” I looked over to him curiously. “You say that as if you’ve never had a Palisman.” His eyes widened, before he turned his face away from me. “…this Palisman is actually my first. I didn’t do well in school, so I never achieved my staff.” Was all he replied. Great. Now I felt bad. “I’m sorry…" He chuckled. “It’s alright. There wasn’t a chance you could’ve known.” Letting out a sigh, I took my mask off. What was the point of hiding my face while meeting a new friend? Letting my hair fall down, I hear Hunter let out a small gasp. I raise an eyebrow, turning my gaze to him. His eyes were wide open, staring at me. “What are you looking at?” “You…you’re beautiful…” My own eyes widened, and I felt my cheeks heat up. Hunter realised that he said it out loud, and his own face lit up. “I-i’m so sorry! I-“ “Just be quiet.” I growled, turning away so then Hunter wouldn’t see me. The ship shook, and I felt it begin to fall rapidly toward the ground. I watched in terror as the ground came closer, and I blacked out as we hit the ground. “Hey! Y/n, wake up!” Someone hissed quietly.

I let out a groan as I opened my tired eyes. Hunter was gently shaking me, looking around frantically at his surroundings. “W-what happened?” I grumbled, sitting up. Hunter clasped a hand over my mouth. I was about to object, when he pointed to a certain short monster on the other side of the rocks. It was Kikimori, and she did not look happy. She seemed to be carrying a stone. I recognised it from history books. They made the possessor stronger. “I KNOW YOU’RE HERE GOLDEN GUARD! AND I KNOW WHAT YOU DID THE OTHER NIGHT!” She shrieked. My brows furrowed, looking toward Hunter. “What is she talking about?” I hissed. He reached for his broken staff. I hadn’t noticed that before. “I’ll explain later. Right now, we need to get out of here.” He whispered back. Without warning, he grabbed my hand, leading me away from the angry monster. Once we were far enough away, I pulled my hand free from his. “What the hex was that about?!” I yelled. Hunter let out a sigh. “Look, the other night I was assigned to collect Palismans. I told my Uncle that I had failed, but the real reason was that I let them go. Kiki and the human Luz was involved and…things just got out of hand.” He was looking down at his feet. “If I told him what had really happened, then he would kill both of us…” I listened carefully. When he was finished, I smiled softly. ‘Hey…you did the right thing.” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Surprised for a moment, Hunter smiled. “So, what are we gonna do? We can’t tell your Uncle we failed to retrieve them again. He’d find out for sure.” I said. Hunter thought for a moment, before a smirk crossed his features. “Not unless we disappeared.” I stared blankly at him for a moment. What did he mean by that? “What do you mean?” “Alright, this is the plan.” Waiting outside the castle, I tapped my foot impatiently. Hunter had gone into the castle to retrieve his Palisman, leaving me outside to wait. It had been 10 minutes already. Shouldn’t he be back by now? Something must’ve happened. Letting out a growl, I clutched my staff, heading inside. Once inside, I passed a few of the guards. None tried stopping me, just giving a nod as I passed by. They took note of my badge it seemed. As I walked pass the throne room, I halted when I heard a cry of pain come from within. “NO, PLEASE! DON’T HURT HIM!” That was Hunter. Rushing over, I swung the doors open. There was Hunter, being held by two guards. Kikimori held his Palisman, about to hand it over to Emperor Belos. Everyone stopped what they were doing when I entered, turning to face me. Emperor Belos was the only one to recognise me. “Ah, Y/n! A nice surprise! No need for any assistance. You see, Hunter here has been keeping secrets from us.” He stated gesturing to Hunter. “But Kikimori has saved us by warning us of his treason. He’ll be thrown into the dungeon shortly, and this…Palisman will be dealt with.” At that, Kikimori was about to hand the Palisman to the Emperor. Rage filled me, and before I realised what I was doing, I had sent a spell their way. The Palisman was thrown from Kikimori’s hands, falling to the ground out of reach. Everyone let out a gasp. Tears overflowed from my eyes as rage coursed through me. “No one else’s Palisman’s are getting hurt under my watch.” I growled. Belos straightened his posture. “I see. You’re a traitor to our kind. Guards, get her!” He yelled. The guards holding Hunter let him go, charging toward me. Using my staff, I quickly defeated them, swinging my staff against their skulls. Both fell unconscious. Without thinking, I charged Belos. He killed my Palisman. Before my staff made contact with him, he used his own magic to throw me against the wall. Yelping in pain, I stumbled to my feet. My vision was still blurry from the impact, hence why I didn’t see Belos walking towards me. I was pushed back against the wall. Something was piercing into my neck, and I realised it was the Emperor’s staff. “You’ll have the same fate as your Palisman.” He hissed. Choking for air, my vision was getting darker and darker as I stared murderously into Belos’ eyes. I finally felt myself drop to the ground, the Emperor letting out a groan of pain as he was attacked from the side. Strong hands lifted me up, helping me limp away from the scene. Hunter got his Palisman ready, ordering me to get on. Doing so, I left my staff lying on the ground, clutching his waist tightly as we escaped the castle. I buried my face in Hunters shoulder as we flew over the Boiling Isles. Neither of us had spoken for a while, and honestly I was too shocked. Finally, Hunter spoke up. “Thank you for that. That was very courageous of you to stand up to him. Are you ok?” “Y-yeah, I’m ok…where are we going? Do you have a place in mind?” I asked, looking down at our surroundings. We were near Bones Marrow (was that what it was called?), and I curious if he had a destination. Hunter smiles at my question. “I have a friend nearby. We’ll seek shelter there if she’ll allow it.” With that, he neared the forest floor, landing quietly in the bushes. I looked up at the building in front of us. I knew this place, although I’d never been to it myself. This was the Owl House, home of one of the most powerful witches on the Isle, Eda the Owl lady. Well, WAS the most powerful. Hunter walked up the doorstep, and was about to knock when a large owl tube on the door spoke up, startling both of us. “OOH VISITORS! FROM THE EMPEROR COVEN TOO! HAVE YOU COME HERE TO BE MY FRIEND?!” The door opened, revealing Luz the human. Her smile lit up when she realised it was Hunter. “Hunter! Hi! What are you doing here? And who’s your friend? You aren’t…here to arrest me, are you?” She asked suspiciously, closing the door ajar as she squinted her eyes. I almost laughed at how childish she was. “No, sorry to disappoint. Me and my friend were going to ask if we could stay for awhile? We…kinda left the coven.” Hunter said, gesturing to himself and I. I gave a little wave. Luz’s eyes widened in surprise, her smile returning. “Of course! Come in! We have…room for two more!” Opening the door, she let us inside. Hunter stepped in first, but was stopped by an ice wall. He let out a yelp of surprise, and Luz was yelling at someone. “Lillith! Be nice!” Lillith? Where have I heard that name? It clicked when I caught sight of her. There, in what I assumed to be human clothes, stood Lillith, my role model ever since I was a small witchling. I almost jumped up and down in excitement, if it wasn’t for the shock of the ice bars between us. “Human! This is the Golden Guard! We can’t let him in here! What if it’s a trick?!” Lillith shrieked. Luz tried to calm her down, explaining that he’d changed. Another woman stepped into the room, followed by a small demon with a skull on his head. “Alright, what’s going on here?” She muttered. Luz sighed in relief. “Oh thank god you’re here, Eda. My friends need a place to stay, and-“ Eda? Lillith cut her off. “HE’S THE GOLDEN GUARD! It could be a trap!” She screamed, gesturing to the two of us. Hunter didn’t say anything, just let out a nervous chuckle. Eda only stared at us tiredly. “…..if it’s a trap we won’t hesitate to knock em’ out cold. Just let em in.” She grumbled, sitting on the couch as she drank something from out of a cup. Lillith stuttered indignantly, while Luz used what I assumed a random piece of paper to create fire. Melting the bars, she let the two of us inside.

A few minutes later, Hunter and I were sitting beside each other on two chairs, while Lillith, Luz, and Eda were sitting on the couch. He had just finished explaining what had happened with Emperor Belos mere hours before. Lillith had her arms crossed, staring at us suspiciously, while Eda was peacefully sipping at her apple-blood. Luz was holding the little demon, who I found out was named King. Luz spoke up first. “So…now you’re wanted criminals?” She asked, concerned. Hunter pat his Palisman. “It would appear so.” He muttered. Lillith didn’t say anything, but it was obvious from her body language she didn’t trust us. Eda the owl lady smiled comfortingly. “Well, I guess an enemy to Belos is a friend of mine. Welcome to the Owl House kids.” She chuckled. “Thank you.” I replied. Luz pointed accusingly at me. “AHA! YOU DO SPEAK!” She yelled. I chuckled. “So what’s your name, kid?” Eda asked. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you all. Especially you Lillith!” She turned to me, raising a brow. “Why’s that, witchling?” “You’ve always been a role-model for me! I feel so honoured meeting you in person!” I said, my smile brightening to finally have an opportunity to speak to my hero. Lillith smiled. “Thank you, witchling.” A few weeks later… Hunter and I had officially moved into the Owl House. It was a bit crowded but it became our home. Eda was teaching Hunter how to take care of his Palisman, plus how to use and treat it. I on the other hand, began to classes with Lillith and Luz, learning how to master glyphs. Sure, I still had my powers, but in case of emergencies I wanted to learn about these strange little symbols. We had become wanted criminals that day, and our wanted posters were stuck up all over the Boiling Isles. I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I realised it was Hunter. “Hey Y/n, I have a surprise for you.” He said, grabbing my hand and leading me away from the Owl house. Dragging me through town, we snuck by many wanted posters of us. He finally stopped outside of Hexside, a school I had once attended before joining the Emperor’s Coven. Knocking on the door, Principal Bump opened. “Ah, good you’re here! Just in time too!” He whispered, taking down another poster that was stuck to his door. He smiled down at the two of us. “Good to see you again Y/n. Come this way!” Leading us onto the Grudgby field, I noticed Eda was standing beside a large, wooden stump. She walked over to us excitedly. “Y/n! Hunter had told us what had happened to your Palisman, so Bumpy, Hunter and I decided to give you a little surprise. I introduce to you…” The Bat Queen flew down, landing on the stump and opening the door. Many Palismans with cracks ran out, looking around curiously. “To the Palismans! These little guys need a good home again, and one lucky one may pick you.” My eyes widened in awe, as I clasped my hands over my mouth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I hugged Hunter, who was standing beside me. “THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” I cried. Realising what I was doing, my face heated up, and I immediately let go, looking away in embarrassment. He did the same, scratching his neck as a pink flush covered his cheeks. Eda chuckled at our interaction. “Alright. All you gotta do is kneel down, say a goal you want to achieve and one should choose you.” She stated. I grinned as I knelt down, looking at all the cute Palismans scuttling about. “I want a powerful Palisman to help protect those I care about.” I said. One Palisman began to glow. It looked like a lizard from the human realm, but with a scorpion tail and sharp claws. I held out my hands as it turned into a staff, landing gently in my hands as the Palisman happily growled. My grin widened as I looked excitedly back at Hunter, hugging the Palisman close. Everything was going to be ok now.

A/N: HOLY CRAP FINISHING THIS I REALISED IT PRETTY MUCH TURNED INTO A FULL BLOWN NOVEL-

#golden guard #hunter #toh #the owl house #spoilers #the owl house season 2 #self insert #golden guard x reader #hunter x reader #x reader #reader included #reader #toh s2

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viltrumitesuperboy · 4 years ago

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Treat Them Right (Peter Parker x Male Reader)

Last second decision cause it’s Valentine’s Day. Also it’s short but that’s not my problem lmao

Requested by: @iliumheightnights Can you please write a peter parker x male reader where peter keeps getting distracted thinking of a date and the avengers think it's a girl so they give him all of these tips on how to "treat a lady right" but then his boyfriend shows up.

Word count: 1195

CW: mentions of reader as female

Any day Peter went to the tower, he was prepared for everything that could possibly go wrong. His table would explode, a supervillain would crash through the window, everything he worked on was deleted from his computer.

The worst one was when anyone he knew came to embarrass him in front of other people.

It was rarely a problem because he had little contact with other people when he was working. If he was going into another lab, he didn't worry so much that anything would go wrong because talking to other people kept him distracted from that worry. But someone embarrassing him in front of an Avenger? He might as well just die on the spot.

A week ago, his boyfriend had mentioned that it was going to be their one year anniversary since their first date. He was zoning out for parts of the day, both stressing over how he ever found someone so amazing and what he'd have to do to avoid disaster.

"Peter! Come here. I want you to meet someone."

He turned away from the scientists currently working on a project to see his mentor.

"Mr. Stark! Uh, I'm just finishing up here," he said.

"No worries. Come in, Bruce. No one's bite is worse than yours, I promise."

There was a quiet muttered complaint, and Peter turned back to the table to work on the hologram.

"Radiation is still dangerous, even as a source of energy. It might give the Hulk his powers, and probably Spider-Man — not that I would know, I've never met him. I mean, I could! Anyway, it doesn't mean it's not still dangerous. So keep that in mind when you're working with this stuff."

He made a vague hand gesture waving at the hologram that he definitely did not learn from Tony. Just as he started to head for the door, he was stopped by a voice.

"Hey, these are my papers! That's great. There's a section over here you might want to take a look at."

Peter then saw Bruce Banner swiping through a pdf that was on one of the holograms. He smiled up at Peter.

"Peter! I can't believe we haven't met yet. You're doing great work here," Dr. Bruce Banner, world-renowned scientist and former refugee, said to Peter Parker, skinny nerd still in school.

"Uh. Thank... you..." Peter responded, a little starstruck.

Even after meeting Avengers personally, it was still a surprise to see them. The world made them seem untouchable, but Peter knew they weren't. Seeing any of them in person was like a fever dream.

"Kid, this is Bruce. Bruce, Pete. We have somewhere to go," Tony said suddenly.

"Oh, okay. Bye!" Peter managed to say before he was swept out of the room.

When they got in the elevator, Tony finally spoke.

"So, Peter! I heard something very important came up and you are gonna need to have a talking to."

"I'm gonna what?!" Peter squeaked.

Then he was in the sitting room. It was usually the most comfortable place on the tower's "Avengers" floors. Now it was the most terrifying situation he'd ever been in.

Every single Avenger (minus Tony) and friends were sitting in a semicircle around Peter. They all stared at him in silence. His eyes were wide open as he stared right back.

"Am I being inducted into a cult?" he whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You have an anniversary coming up," Natasha said from her standing position as she crossed her arms. "A year is very important, Peter."

"You need to plan this properly," Rhodes said.

"And if she's not happy with what you plan, expect us to be ten times as unhappy," Clint added.

Peter opened his mouth to correct him, but Steve cut him off.

"You know, I might have been born a while ago, but most important things you need to know are going to be from us. If you don't treat her right, she'd be the least of your worries," he said.

He glanced at Bucky, who was cracking his neck. His face said "murder." Peter shrunk in on himself.

"Where's Mr. Stark?" he asked.

"He's in a meeting," Natasha said.

"Okay," he meekly responded.

Thor shuffled in his comfortable seat on the sofa.

"My people treat their romantic partners as their equals. If one is too slow in courting a partner, their relatives will find it suspicious and will seek blood. But I'm sure that's not the case," the god said with a reassuring smile.

It was not reassuring.

"I don't want to inconvenience you or anything, but I don't know why I'm here. I thought I was just supposed to work on something with Tony," Bruce said.

"Banner," Natasha snapped. "Give him some advice and then you can leave."

"Uh, I don't know, flowers? Girls like that, right? Look, I'm busy. It was nice to meet you, Peter. I hope we get to work on something together."

He walked away. Dr. Bruce Banner, world-renowned scientist, just told Peter that he wanted to work with him. For science stuff.

This was the best and worst day of his life.

"Okay, if you're going to a restaurant or anywhere that requires sitting at a table, you pull the chair out for her. And you make sure you check in, make sure she's comfortable," Sam said from his spot.

"You gotta make her feel like she's the only girl for you. And there's nothing better than personally bringing her somewhere that would mean a lot to the both of you," Bucky said.

"If your partner slaps you in the face, you think hard about what you did wrong," Thor absentmindedly mumbled, playing with some gadget he found on the coffee table.

"From what I've seen with Pepper and Tony, just don't be stupid. Be on time and make sure you do nice things for her," Rhodes said.

"I'd like to inform you that someone is coming up," FRIDAY chirped from the ceiling.

"Who?" Natasha snapped.

They all turned to see the private elevator open to reveal a boy. They readied their weapons, though Thor didn't seem too bothered. He swung the hammer around lazily.

"Uh... am I interrupting something?" you asked.

"Who are you? How did you get up here?" Rhodes demanded.

"I'm... here for Peter. Hey, you aren't, like, inducting him into a cult or anything, right?" you said.

"That's what I said!" Peter exclaimed.

He rushed away from the group into your arms, nearly toppling the both of you over. You held out a single flower, which he huffed and blushed at.

"Avengers, this is my boyfriend," Peter announced.

"That's unexpected," Steve said.

"I was saying 'partner' the whole time," Thor said. "None of you caught on."

"Are you ready, Peter? We've got somewhere to be," you said.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Peter automatically responded.

"Dude, if you do Spongebob in front of me one more time, I will take the flower."

"No!"

The elevator doors closed behind the both of you, leaving the Avengers to discuss the events themselves.

"I'm here," Tony said, entering the room with Pepper and Bruce. "Did I miss anything?"

#x male reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker imagine #male reader #male reader insert #request

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maximons · 3 years ago

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All Is Lost

Summary: Zombies have taken over the world, humanity on the edge of extinction. All hope was lost. Despite that, Wanda couldn’t seem to let go of Y/n, who had fallen victim to the plague herself.

Word Count: 2,263

Genre: Angst

Requested?: No

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, cannibalism, suicide, mentions of blood. Spoilers for Ep. 5 of What If...?

A/N: I know, I know, I’m gonna get into the stuff I promised soon. But for now, the Zombies episode inspired me and this came out. If you haven’t seen the episode yet, go watch it. Its amazing and depressing. Also this is DARK guys, probably the darkest thing I’ve ever written, so...Happy Reading!

The Zombie apocalypse was always something everyone joked about, but never something that anyone could actually predict.

Everything happened so quickly, Wanda could barely keep up. It’s hard to believe that everything was so normal only two weeks ago. Now, she was locked away with Vision in an abandoned military base in New Jersey. Desperate to survive for as long as possible while Vision worked on a cure.

Some of his experiments had been a success, most notably Scott Lang who he was able to revert back from his zombified state. However, the man was now only a severed head.

Despite the success, Vision was less than optimistic. For one, Scott was one of the first infected. While the cure worked on him, the android theorized that the disease has mutated greatly since then, and it was likely impossible to cure everyone. And even if he could, the technology to do so is beyond human comprehension and therefore doesn’t exist.

Vision might have all but given up hope, but Wanda didn’t. She couldn’t. She refused to give up on you.

Wanda and you have been best friends for as long as Wanda had been an Avenger. You were already a member of the team and greeted her with an open mind and open arms, despite all she had done. You had fire powers, and while your powers weren’t identical to Wanda’s, you still offered some basic tips and tricks to keep such explosive powers at bay.

It wasn’t a surprise that she fell in love with you.

But her stupid fear had to get in the way, and when you came to confess your own feelings for her, she panicked and rejected you. You were so heartbroken, Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that.

And it kills her everyday knowing that that was the last interaction she had with you. The last one with you as yourself anyway.

All that remained now was the flesh hungry, blood thirsty monster that wore your, now rotting, skin.

This wasn’t you, she knows that. She looked into your mind and saw no trace of the woman you once were, the one she loved with all her heart. She couldn’t feel you, you were gone.

Despite this, Wanda couldn’t let you go. She couldn’t handle losing you entirely. She already lost almost everyone.

She managed to convince Vision to keep you in the base for testing. You were locked behind a large steel door, with only a window to see you through. But you were here, and that’s all Wanda cared about.

The cure wasn’t working for you. Your powers caused it to incinerate when it entered your system, proving it to be ineffective. Still, she refused to give up.

Vision thought it best to terminate you after the failed tests, but Wanda begged him not to. Knowing he couldn’t overpower her, and sensing his friend’s distress with anything that comes to you, he agreed. As long as Wanda had it under control.

She doubted he knew that she was luring innocent survivors into the base so you could feed on them, but she did what she had to do.

Wanda spent most of her days sitting outside of your cell. The first few days, you were ravenous. Banging on the walls and trying to burn them down, growling and screeching with the inhuman noise that took over your vocal chords, but you didn’t manage to break free. After a while, it seemed you have given up, and just sat in place. Only moving when Wanda opened the cell and let some of your ‘food’ in.

There were times where Wanda thought that maybe, just maybe, the cure was working more than they thought. You seemed to have recognized her, your facial expressions formed into ones that she had recognized and missed dearly. But that hope quickly died when she would peek into your head and still sense nothing.

“Hey, Y/n.” Wanda walked up to outside your cell and sat cross-legged like she did everyday. Your head rose, staring at her with your now glowing yellow eyes. “Still no progress on the cure, but don’t worry, I’m not giving up yet.” You offered no response, not that she expected one. “It’s hard. It’s only getting worse out there...” She sighed as she trailed off. She raised her hand to the glass, like she always did. “I’m going to figure it out...we’re gonna get you back to normal, and I’m going to tell you every day how much I love you. I miss you so much, but...we’re almost there. I can feel it...” Wanda’s voice started choking up, as tears ran down her face. “We deserve our happy ending.”

Her hand was still pressed against the glass as she finished her speech. She was about to lower it, but then something unexpected happened. You stared at her hand curiously, beginning to raise your own. Wanda watched, smile forming on her face as your arm made it’s way to the glass.

“Wanda! Please come here, we have a situation.” You had almost pressed your hand against Wanda’s, when Vision’s voice interrupted. Your attention turned to the direction it came from and you let out a growl, clearly angry at the interruption. Wanda sighed in disappointment, but she tried not to let it take over. You still showed massive improvement, something worth reporting back to Vision. “It’s okay.” She soothed you. “I’m going to go see what he wants then I’ll be right back, okay? I know you’re hungry, I’ll get you some food too.” You didn’t offer a response as she walked off.

“Vis! I have to tell you-” Wanda began as she walked into the main room, but cut herself off at the new faces. She didn’t recognize the bald woman with the spear or the wimpy looking man in a workers uniform, but she was familiar with Peter. What surprised her most though, was Bruce Banner. A man she hasn’t seen in over three years. “What is going on?”

“I ran into them outside the premises. Apparently word has gotten out about the cure.” Vision answered before turning his attention back to the guests. “As I told you, I am afraid we cannot help you. The cure seems to be a moot point.”

“Well, what about-” Peter began, but he was interrupted by a new voice.

“For something you have no hope for, you sure don’t have a problem bringing in new test subjects.” Wanda recognized Bucky Barnes’ voice. She turned around, and her eyes widened as she saw King T’challa on his arm, struggling to stand on his one remaining leg.

Shit.

“My king! We thought you dead.” The bald woman exclaimed in relief and surprise.

“Your highness. I was not aware you were in the base.” Vision said, confused on how that got by him. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. “Wanda...”

“I’m sorry.” Wanda whispered, knowing she was caught. “The cure wasn’t working on Y/n, and in order to keep her at bay, I had to feed her.”

“So you fed her our King?” A spear was raised to her throat, threateningly.

“It was nothing personal, I promise. I have her under control and the cure is starting to work, I know it. We just need a little more time!”

“Why not just kill her? You lured innocent people to their deaths just for her when there a couple million more Zombies out there that you could use for testing. Ones that have a chance of being cured.” The whole room went quiet after Bucky said that.

“Uh oh. Shouldn’t have said that.” Wanda heard Scott say, but she was too busy glaring at Bucky. Her eyes started to go red, but before she could do anything, she noticed the spear held to her throat begin to glow red and melt. The woman dropped the spear as it began to burn her hands.

“Did it just suddenly get like, super hot?” Peter asked as he began to fan himself.

“Oh no...” Wanda trailed off. She looked up to notice the steal walls that led to your cell begin to melt. “You’ve done it now...she hasn’t eaten in days.” Before anyone could respond, the steel doors melted completely. The man in the uniform was unfortunate enough to be standing in front of it, as a strong burst of flame shot out and incinerated him on the spot. Only a second later, you flew out the door, covered in flames as you hovered above everyone.

Wanda watched in horror as you began to fight everyone. They weren’t holding up very well, and that’s when Wanda finally realized what she had done. This wasn’t you, and if you were still here, you would hate to see your body be used to attack and kill others.

“Vision! Get us out of here!” She heard Bruce yell, and Vision shot a blast towards the wall, blowing it up and letting everyone out. Wanda turned her focus back to you, you watched them starting to escape and you began to fly after them, but a red mist surrounded you before you could. You turned your head, starting to growl, but stopped when you saw it was Wanda.

“Y/n. Stop...” You tilted your head, still struggling to move as Wanda came closer. She took a chance and reached up, gently placing a hand on your face. “I am so sorry...you never deserved this...” Your face softened at the touch, beginning to show the signs of emotion that Wanda desperately held onto. However, it was clear now that it was too late.

You snapped out of it, as you managed to break free from Wanda’s hold. You opened your mouth wide, intent on biting and feeding on her, but something stopped you. You hesitated, and Wanda noticed. You settled for pushing her aside to the ground as you reignited yourself and flew out of the base.

Wanda picked herself up after a moment, intent on stopping you. She ran past Okoye’s body, charred and eaten, but she was sure there was little time until she turned. She ran faster to where you were, now facing off against Bucky. She sprinted further, about to take off and fly when she paused.

Vision was face down on the ground. She kneeled next to him, glowing red hand turning over his body, afraid of what she’ll see. Once he was turned, Wanda gasped at the sight. The mind stone was torn out of his head.

“Oh no...no, no, no...” She held his body, tears slowly building as she mourned the loss of her best friend. She had officially lost everything. “I am so sorry Vis...I’m going to make this right, I promise.”

She heard Bucky scream. She looked over to see you start to feed on him. She saw Bruce, Peter, Scott and T’challa in the distance, making their way to the jet. They were your next target.

No. Wanda wasn’t going to let that happen. It ends now.

She used her powers to propel herself forward, landing directly in your path. You growled at her yet again as she used her powers to hold you. “Y/n...please, stop.” You struggled to get out of the hold, but Wanda held on. “This isn’t you...you wouldn’t want this...I love you more than anything, and I’m so sorry...I hope one day, you’ll forgive me.”

Wanda used her powers to grab the gun laying by Bucky’s side. She held in to your head, ready to pull the trigger...but she couldn’t. She let out a scream of frustration and dropped her hold on both you and the gun. The gun fell to the ground, but you haven’t moved.

“I can’t do it...I...I’m not strong enough...” Wanda began crying, shutting her eyes and waited for you to finish her off. She failed everyone, no one deserved death more than her. She opened her eyes when nothing came. You stood, staring at her with a tilt of your head. The yellow of your eyes dimming as you stared.

“W....Wan...” You struggled to let out, but it was enough for Wanda to hear. She cried even harder. She was right, you were almost there...but it was too late now.

You took in your surroundings as best you could, you didn’t have a lot of awareness, but you knew enough to piece everything together. You saw the influx of zombies starting to enter to base. Everyone needed to get away. You turned back to Wanda, and you knew what you had to do. You felt the little control you had start to slip away.

You bent down and picked up the discarded gun. You shakily pointed it to your temple, the control slipping away faster and faster. “Love....you....I...sorry...” You managed to croak out. Before you could lose control completely, you pulled the trigger.

Wanda watched in horror as you shot yourself in the head. Pieces of your brain landing on her, your blood drenching her. She looked down to see your body, half your face still together, but you were gone. Truly gone.

She knelt down sobbing, as she held your body. After a moment she looked up to see the Hulk appear as the zombies began to overwhelm the base. She saw the jet take off, and she gave a weak smile. They got away. Wanda’s job was done. This is where her story ends. All was lost for her.

So when the zombies finally reached her, she didn’t fight back. Accepting her death with open arms.

Epilogue

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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libraford · 4 years ago

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I owe you all a story about kittens. But its about... a little more than kittens. It's a long one.

I want to tell you all about the kittens, which took place in 2019. But in order to do so, I have to take you back even further, to March of 2018, and concludes in 2021. Because it's about kittens, but it's also about business and all the things that can go wrong.

In March 2018, tragedy struck. The owner of the flower shop died unexpectedly, leaving the business to four capable managers. One of those managers was the man that had hired me, leaving a power vacuum at our location. Grandpa was not the first choice to take the lead, but she stepped up and she became manager. In my opinion, there was no better person for the role: she had only ever worked in the flower industry (assuming we're not counting the one week in 1976 when she worked at a pizza parlor,) and as such she knew the business inside and out.

Prior to this, she had taught all of the designers and practically ran the place when the boss was out, so it was the next logical step. And it was good.

Of course, we had our ups and downs. What I did not realize when I joined the flower shop is that the flower industry is volatile- there are so many variables that went into the creation of floral pieces and if there is one misstep you can be set back anywhere from a day to several thousand dollars. There are late deliveries, there are frightening brides, there are missing piñatas… van fires, flower snobs, color corrections, failed psychics, friends, enemies…

You can set the bar so very low and yet…

The rise and fall of drama at this particular flower shop could be dictated into hours and minutes because sometimes you need to hire people just to fill that space. Grandpa was on record by saying 'if they can walk, talk, and spell their name, hire them.' Even so, we were critically understaffed most of the time because if you hire anyone you're going to get a lot of quitters.

It's a tough cycle to break, and our power was limited.

And we had bigger fish to fry: we had an average of thirty funerals, two weddings, and well over six hundred deliveries per week. Business was booming and we just had to keep up- if you make it one week after the next it doesn't feel so bad.

By March of the following year, the four owners had whittled down to two: my former boss and the former webmaster. We had a district manager now, some kind of accounts position… things like that. It was kind of astonishing that before this, all the work had been done by a single man. But the secrets to his success had died with him.

Things were looking good, actually: the flower business was full of life! We were doing all kinds of special events, starting contracts with businesses and getting our name out there. Drama still plagued us, but as far as I'm aware, that's par for the course for flower shops.

Then, in May 2019, tragedy struck. A tornado ripped straight down the street of our headquarters, demolishing the greenhouse and the historical building that it all started in. No one was injured, but the damages were devastating. Despite all this, we kept working.

We worked hard. And hard. And hard.

And though the new warehouse wasn't slated to be finished until 2021, we reached an equilibrium where things were okay.

But before I get to that, I made a promise to you.

It was a hot day in August and I was walking into my closing shift at 10am. After two years of working with roughly the same people, you got to learning how to tell when something was happening. I walked in to everyone staring at me and acting 'natural.' It never looks natural.

In the back of the store, there was a box that Cherry was standing very purposely in front of.

"What's in the-"

"Sh!" Grandpa spied through the window in the cooler door as someone swung out with a purchase. "Did you find something you like," she asked the customer, trotting over to help him at the register.

"What's happening," I asked Blue.

"Nothings happening, it just kind of… happened."

"Blue… what does that MEAN?"

"There's a customer here, I can't talk about it."

I am bursting at the seams to know what's going on.

Grandpa fared the customer well and went back to her station behind the computer. "Open the box," she said.

Ominous, but okay. I go over to the box and Cherry steps aside. There's something moving inside the box and I wonder if Pam's daughter had folded herself into a box to ride out a panic attack again. I carefully opened the flaps of the box and accidentally disturbed the sleep of-

Four.

Tiny.

KITTENS!

Oh my god, it was the most adorable thing in the world and the poor things were screaming because they had only known the world for a few weeks and everything was strange and blurry and all they knew to do was cuddle for warmth and scream. The box consisted of two black kittens, one tuxedo kitten, and a white seal-point with terminal eye goop.

They immediately started climbing up my arm.

"Not that I'm not thrilled, but… why?"

"Stray cat left her babies out by my pond and wasn't just gonna leave the little fuckers," Grandpa said. The seal-point made it all the way up my shoulder to scream in my ear and stare at me with one clear blue eye. "That one's name is Pop-eye. He's my favorite."

"Jake doesn't get along with them," I surmised. Jake was Grandpa's Australian Shepherd. He was old, blind, deaf, and losing his sense of smell. And he was ornery.

"First thing he did was sit on Pop-eye. So they're gonna be at the shop during the day until we can get them all homed. Know anyone that needs a kitten?"

So, for awhile, we had shop cats. One of the all black twins had been claimed the very next day, but the rest of them were with us for some time. We got very good at feeding them all every hour on the hour and eventually they settled into accepting that 'mom' was seven different people.

In the meantime, we had to hide the three of them from visiting management.

This was not my first round with cat-related crimes.

The district manager, Puppet, was due to come for a visit any time that week. He was supposed to come once a month for a routine check in, and there were only ten days left in August. Likewise, we had to hide the kittens from the customers on the off chance that one of them was a secret shopper.

Backtracking once more to explain: the company had shelled out money to pay a third party to send secret shoppers to grade us on a rubric and also whatever they thought was appropriate. The grades were cleanliness, customer service, how knowledgeable we were of products, things like that. If we got above 90%, there would be a bonus in our next paycheck.

Sounds great, right?

The spies could decide that anything wasn't up to their standard. One woman went on and on about our 'black wall,' which was the outside of our cooler and I'm sorry but… that's not changing. There was a complaint that the table at the front used to showcase our bridal seemed out of place and odd. There dirt in the flower pots… where dirt goes. Corporate reads those comments.

So keeping the children out of sight of the customers and any visiting management became our priority.

'So just keep them in the break room,' I hear you, the reader, suggest.

If you've never owned cats, it is imperative for you to know that they are mostly comprised of spine, and only the smallest of openings will deter them from squeezing into parts unknown. Cats are semi-solids. Kittens are semi-solids with a sense of adventure and little tiny needles for fingernails.

And you can't just tape the box shut.

So… they got out. Well, two of them got out. The tuxedo awoke to find that her brothers had gone exploring without her and did the sensible thing, which was cry about it.

Mood.

I have named this cat Brood X Cicada. The black one can be named Abyss. I'm great at naming cats.

Lucky for us, they're only a few weeks old and walk kind of like little tin soldiers. It took all of five minutes to pry Pop-eye from a piece of Styrofoam and locate Abyss exploring an old toolbox. However, by the time I'm done cat collecting, Brood X Cicada had toddled off in search of her brothers and I'm out of hands to hold kittens in. I stuffed Abyss into my apron pocket and tried to save X from eating plastic.

It is at this moment that Cherry came in to tell me that Puppet the District Manager was on his way, and saw that I was helplessly juggling kittens. Abyss was climbing out of my pocket, eager to join his siblings in the high and exalted position that was my hands.

"We need these kittens out of here," I said. "Who hasn't been on lunch yet?"

Cherry dodged her head back into the workshop. "Hey Key, you been on lunch?" Pause. "You wanna go now?"

Key came into the back room and I handed her the box of kittens. "Take these, in your car. Go to burger King or something, I don't care. Puppet cannot see these. If anyone asks, you're on a route."

Key held the box and took a moment to appreciate the series of events that lead to her being handed a box of kittens in a 'Take this, don't ask questions' kind of matter.

Puppet was in the front door as Key was out the back and we successfully avoided a serious mistake. His visit was only an hour and she walked back in without anyone the wiser.

We made it through the big challenge, now to continue looking for homes for them. Ms. Crow found a friend of a friend of a friend that was excited to take Abyss from us. After some interrogating my friends, I found someone who knew someone who could take Pop-eye and Brood X Cicada. (They were renamed Hocus and Pocus.)

Grandpa cried for every single one of them that had to go. And I remembered my very first day of working there when she introduced herself as 'The Tinman.' What a liar, the softy.

Our days went on kitten-free, the management none the wiser.

It was December when I got the feeling that I should be taking photos of my work to build a portfolio. Something wasn't right, I felt. I couldn't say what it was that put me on edge, but I could only say that all was not well. I took photos of everything that I was proud of, and I was proud of a lot of things. By February, I had over fifty items that I could show off to a potential studio. And I thought- in March, I should start looking to see if other shops are hiring.

And in March 2020, tragedy struck. Our state went into lockdown on March 13, dictating that all non-essential businesses close and non-essential staff be laid off. There were two days where none of us knew what was happening, if we had jobs or if that job was safe.

They laid off all but three designers and Grandpa but kept most the drivers, changed our hours to 8-5, closed Sundays. Canceled weddings. No walk-ins. The three designers were Blue, Red, and me.

Blue was worried about her children. She resigned.

Red's wife was worried about him and harassed him into quitting.

And then there was one.

There's a series of poems I wrote in my journal about being an essential worker during lockdown. There's adorable little doodles of skeletons around the margins, festooned with flowers. They all go something like this:

We are the Skeleton Crew.

We once were seven but now are two

We don't know what to do

So we just work, work, work.

Many may wonder how a flower shop would be considered an essential business. The answer is funerals. We were allowed to remain open because of our relationship with the funeral industry. And sad to say: the industry was booming.

And I did all of it. I made every spray, every 'get well soon' vase, every 'happy quarantine' bouquet. I called angry brides to see if they could postpone, I dealt with everyone's grief and uncertainty.

All the flowers that arrived at US Customs through Italy were destroyed because we didn't know whether coronavirus was transmitted through physical contact and there's no way to sanitize flowers. Not without killing them.

It was me and Grandpa. That was it. Ten funerals a day, and everything else. Flowers were more important than ever: you couldn't be there, so you sent flowers. And flowers and flowers and flowers…

I couldn't leave now. I was important, I was needed.

The work became overwhelming for both of us and we began hiring back some of our staff. Some came back right away, bored out of their skulls having to spend time at home. Can't relate. Key never responded, Cherry was pregnant and shouldn't be out of the house.

Dandy came back, Kali came back, Astra came back. Eventually, Blue. After a month of just me and Grandpa, there was almost a full crew and it was enough for us to get through an average week. It took us a month on our bare knuckles but we finally weren't shouldering the responsibility of seven people.

But we still didn't know jack shit about the future there.

In May, the 'economy opened up,' which is a strategic way of saying that people got tired of never leaving the house and stores were pressured to open back up again before a vaccine was released under threat of… you know what? This isn't a story about how America responded to the coronavirus poorly and you can probably find a better thinkpiece about it written by someone with facts and feelings if you want to squeeze yourself behind a pay wall.

This is about workers rights and kittens, two things that are far more important than the economy.

We got 'Hero Pay,' which was two dollars extra per hour and damn did I grasp onto that with the tendons in my wrists. I had never been paid $12 an hour for anything in my life. They started talking about permanent raises, and benefits, 401K, pregnancy leave… and I started thinking… maybe I could stay. Maybe I can stay here for awhile and it won't be so bad now that I'm getting paid actual human wages. Maybe it will be okay.

Life returned to an uneasy normal while we navigated mask laws, sanitation regulations, safety screens, and daily temperature checks. There are stories to tell about some less than great customers we'd had as people realized that they weren't coping with the pandemic as well as they thought, but they deserve their own entries.

We had a revolving door of open positions. If it wasn't a designer it was a driver or both. People weren't ready to come back to work yet but we still had a business to run. People asked if they could perform this job remotely. I'm not sure how one does flowers from home.

It was August when we started feeling the roots of our problems seep into the foundation.

Grandpa's pride and joy was her funerals. She had spent thirteen years building a relationship with the funeral homes in the area to make sure they trust us and our work. If anything was wrong, even a hair out of place, they knew they could call us and have it fixed before the visitation.

"We want unity across the board on our products," Puppet said. "If you're doing the sprays one way and others don't look the same, it doesn't look very good for Oldman Funeral Home, which has locations in all our cities, does it?" He swept his bangs out of his eyes, which was strange tell but we weren't sure for what.

"Okay," Grandpa said. "Schedule a time for me to go down and I'll teach them the way we do them."

"Okay, then."

She went down, prepared to show the crew in the warehouse what 40 years in the business was capable of, only to be met with a strange kind of resistance.

Their head designer greeted her and immediately started instructing her on how he makes sprays. Grandpa, confused, blinked at him with no words. When he was finished, she picked up her clippers and began making her own.

"That's not how we do it," he said. She was met with criticism after criticism. "That's not enough flowers, you're putting them in wrong, you're still making it one-sided. Why did you put the bow there, this looks nothing like our products."

She stood back after his barrage of blows to the ego. "I guess I'm a little confused."

"I'll say."

"Am I teaching you or are you teaching me?"

"I'm teaching you," he said. "Since they're going to all be made here from now on, they want me to show you how we make them in case of emergency."

She let that simmer. "That's not what I was told."

"You didn't think you were supposed to show me how you do it, did you? That doesn't make any sense. Why would we want to look like yours?"

"Oh, I dunno… maybe because we've kept up 30 accounts for 13 years and your location just lost your very last one because you can't make their delivery times and they're across the damn street."

This was how we learned that corporate was planning on taking our funerals from us.

Funerals were something I was immensely proud of. My ability to turn out a thousand dollar funeral order with limited stock was a subject of envy. I could take a phone order, make the flowers, and the deliver it all by myself within an hour. I was good. We were all good. And we trained anyone that stayed longer than two months how to do this because we wanted every person to be able to fix any problem.

And they wanted to take that away from us.

And they did. Because who was going to stop them?

'But what does that matter to you,' I hear you, the reader, ask. 'Surely this meant less work for you!'

Ah, but for the sprays to get to us, they had to come on a truck. Making them in-house meant that we knew we had them. We had to put our trust in corporate to deliver the goods to us by 7 am or we would have to make them day of.

There were days when the truck didn't come, or where only half the pieces were delivered, or a spray got left in the workshop an hour away. At least once a week, often more.

But you know… we adapted. You just schedule more openers to make sure no one is doing it alone and hope to God that you have all the flowers you need to make it. Which you could never anticipate how many flowers you would actually need because them taking our funerals was supposed to reduce the amount of stock flowers we got as well.

Mornings were nightmares, but we adapted.

Another visit, Puppet told Grandpa that she should get all weekends off. All the other managers do. He suggested that I learn to run routes so she can have weekends, and I said okay. I'll learn it.

I got real acquainted with the map of Ohio, and I hated it. I was a weekend manager with no real managerial power. If someone needed a refund, I had to write a note for Grandpa to email the accounts manager because she wouldn't take requests from anyone that wasn't a manager. Everything just waited until Monday. What was the point of me? I couldn't design while managing and I couldn't fix what was broken, so why even have a weekend manager? Let the animals loose in the zoo and it probably would have been a better fit.

But I powered through. I adapted.

Throughout all this, spreadsheets. Spreadsheets, spreadsheets, spreadsheets. Completely pointless spreadsheets that we were bound to fill out all day every day. They had simple purposes: inventory. You filled one out to take count of the specials so you knew how many there were. Then you had to count again to put them in the system so that they knew how much we had. Then you had to go back and count them again and put that number in the computer so they knew how much to make and send tomorrow.

I spent an hour each day counting and recounting the flowers in the far-off and futile hope that the counts would remain accurate to the end of the day (which they did not because the call center consistently used the wrong codes) and that the stock would be replenished properly in the morning (it was not.)

An hour was lost each day to this and it accomplished nothing, yet they always yelled at Grandpa if the counts were off or it was late. Why stress a system that does jack shit?

And every time there was a new feature or there was a new… thing, oh look! Another goddamned redundant spreadsheet that served no purpose.

But we adapted. We created a rhythm.

Show up early at 6:30 to make sure everything got in, make everything that didn't, get the drivers routed, pull routes for the third party deliveries, process same-day orders, data entry for the funeral consolidated. Then at 7, when the phones start ringing…

Okay, so before I forget:

Instead of installing a new phone line and hiring a few more call center people like a normal company would, our headquarters decided it would save us money if call overflow rerouted to the next available phone line, regardless of which location the phone was at. So we would get calls for the Kentucky store asking questions about what that store has and for the sake of preserving confidence in our brand we were supposed to pretend that we were the Kentucky store. We're just supposed to know or assume to know what each store had in stock because there's no way that could ever backfire.

It was… another thing to yell at us for. And boy did they, because they were listening in on our calls. Not to like… coach us on how to do better, but to tell us we were wrong. Sometimes they would call one of us on the other line to tell someone currently on the main one that they said something wrong. They also would straight up lie and scold us for calls we didn't take. The phones system, was simply a mess.

...so when the phones started up at 7am, and one person is designing, one person is taking unending phone orders, Grandpa is doing damage control. By 8, we have most of last nights orders figured out and it's time to start on same day orders and tomorrow's orders. It's too early to do inventory now because they'll yell at us for doing it too early.

By 9 we have our second wave of same day orders and next day orders, the rest of the world realizes we're open and starts walking in. That requires the attention of an entire person. We're at this point also taking out trash, breaking down boxes, disinfecting, sweeping the cooler.

Typically, there were only two openers on any given day, which meant most of this was all being handled by Blue or me.

By 10 we've caught up, we can do the inventory now without getting yelled at by the four heads at corporate. We're on route #3 by now and someone probably had to go to the same place twice because the orders came in late.

At 11, a crisis has probably happened. Something dropped, something wilted, something wasn't what they imagined. Someone has to go fix it, and that someone was usually me because I knew my way around town better than the other transplants.

This typically returned me to the shop around 1pm, which meant it was time for lunch, bringing me to 2. 3 o'clock was the cutoff for any next day orders to be sent to corporate, which meant that if there were any funeral orders taken for the morning, they would have to be made in-house. This included sprays, which takes half an hour to an hour depending on how complicated it was and if we had the materials and how much else we needed to make for the next day. Or how busy we were.

There was always something called in at the last minute, taking us to 4 and then 5 o'clock, when the openers went home and the same-day orders were cut off.

But see, that was when we stopped taking orders, not when we stopped processing orders. So if an order was placed for the same day at 4:59, it may not go through until 5:30. And by 5:30, chances are you've sent your drivers home for the day. Which means calling the customer to apologize and explain why something can't be sent out today, and no one wants to hear that they fucked up by sending it out late.

So, on more than one occasion, I had to personally deliver flowers on my way home from work in my personal car, thirty minutes out of my way because if we miss a delivery by God will we hear about it. And it was always some damn $25 arrangement with 'God Loves You' written on the tag, hardly worth the gas to Johnstown.

The irony of it being delivered by the witch was lost on no one.

If that didn't happen and the screen was clear, the night was easy and all we had to do was clean up and watch the door.

Unless a last minute order for the next day came in, which was about half the time. All of this for $11 an hour. (Once they got rid of the Hero Pay, it went back down to $11.)

That was an average, unexciting day for us. You got used to those kinds of stresses, but every day I came home and I was so tired and sore that I couldn't move. I started walking with a cane, had a low-grade fever most days, and my hands looked like I'd taken to them with a cheese grater.

But I powered through. I adapted.

Then it was December. The owners had always been generous with Christmas bonuses, handing everyone an envelope of cash. Mine was $500. This was the largest amount of cash that anyone had ever handed me (feel bad for me later.)

And then it was Grandpa's turn, but there were no envelopes left. It had to be a mistake, she thought. She didn't get paid very much for all the work she put into the shop, so she was counting on that bonus to buy presents for her grandchildren. It… it… had to be a mistake, right?

"I didn't get a bonus," she said. "I thought the accountability didn't take effect until January," she said to Puppet.

Before he opens his mouth again, I have to explain yet another thing.

In September, there was a meeting. Now that we were working on benefits and bonus programs and other things to make sure the staff stays, they needed to put in accountability measures for the managers. Effective January 1, managers are reflected by the income of their store, the number of returns, accidents in company vehicles, and high turnover rates.

Pick one of those attributes and decide its bullshit to begin with, and I'm about to show you the entire steer.

"We had to make an example of someone," he said. "So that the other managers know we're serious."

She was being personally punished for a car wreck that happened in 2019 even though she fired the guy that was in it. We had too many returns, he said, but most of them were sent to us from corporate. She was personally held responsible for the high turnover rate during an economic crisis AND a goddamned pandemic… because they needed to make an example out of someone.

And her grandkids didn't get presents this year because of it.

She cried. The last time I saw her cry was when we were saying goodbye to the kittens. It's not the same.

But she got up every day and listened to them scream at her while we counted and counted and recounted the fucking Christmas specials because the numbers weren't right and we couldn't make them right because someone in the call center couldn't figure out the codes and in their eyes it was our fault, too- we had to be stealing the flowers or something.

"It sucks and then its over," she said. It was how she dealt with holidays: "It sucks and then its over."

We were all angry for her. I got asked to go to the headquarters and help them mass produce more fucking specials and I offered the beat them up for her and she told me not to get involved. Head down, do the work, get it done.

One of the call center girls died of a heart attack a few days before I was due to help them mass. We were supposed to go to her funeral, but we all missed it because there was so much work to do.

Wait, let me back up… again. The company gave us all life insurance. The number we were quoted on our life insurance policy was $10,000, which seems like a lot but in the funeral business it's not. Your average funeral will eat up most of that, if not all. It's very expensive to die right now.

At least… we all thought it was $10k. I was certainly told $10k.

Turns out it was $1k, which isn't enough to buy you a box for your remains. The call center crew ended up crowdsourcing the rest- she didn't have much family.

And none of us could go to the funeral because we were working.

I worked two twelve hour shifts in that warehouse making the same goddamn centerpiece over and over again while a Frenchman in a scarf told me I was doing it wrong, while everyone was grieving on a time crunch.

I really should have beaten them up.

But we got through Christmas, for what it was worth. We found Grandpa some sales that she could get gifts from and we all worked together to make sure we were okay through it. I mean, we weren't- it was blind leading the blind. But we tried.

And then it ended. "It sucks and then its over," she'd always say.

And into January we go and we're back into the stupidity of trying to fight with hq about funerals. I'm constantly told that if we needed certain things we should have ordered them.

I… did. I did. I ordered everything we needed every damn day and it still never came because the left hand and the right hand can't even coordinate enough to pull off a high-five. But it can't be their fault. It has to be Grandpa's somehow.

Now during the week of Christmas, Grandpa had to take an extra day off because she got sick. It wasn't Covid, thank goodness. I can imagine it was a stress-related issue, but it's not my business. Due to the holiday, this put her at under 40 hours for the week.

So they paid her hourly.

...which is extremely illegal to do to a salaried employee, especially one that works way more than 40 hours a week with no overtime.

And then they told her that she'd already lost her quarterly bonus because of a fender-bender that happened on my watch, and because she lost 39 employees last quarter.

I write everything down. I keep a journal. I cannot find 39 employees, even going back the entire year… during a pandemic. They have to be making this up. They have to be because there is no way they can hold the dude that was fired for literally sleeping in the men's room against her.

And I was close to just telling them all that… when my grandma died.

I'm not getting into it, really. Because you know… she was 96 years old and… it happens. It's sad, but it happens. But the relevant point to make is that I was given an… inheritance. It wasn't a lot. Grandma wasn't loaded. But it would be enough for me to keep afloat for awhile if I ever needed to.

When I told my girlfriend, she said: 'you could quit your job.'

And I didn't want to think about that because the flower shop needed me. I was important there. I was special. And Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

But I was thinking about it. I thought about it every day.

A week before Valentines Day, Grandpa was inconsolable. She had to leave work because her dog, Jake, wouldn't stop bleeding. She needed to get him to the vet.

Two hours pass and Blue gets a message asking her to come help her move the dog. Grandpa lives alone and she's not very strong.

Blue doesn't like dogs. She was bitten by one the first time she ever made a delivery.

And I am known for exceptional physical strength. So I went.

When I arrived, Grandpa was a mess. I had never seen her cry so much, and it wouldn't stop. And I was trying to be strong, but it's hard. Jake was still alive, but bleeding. He was confused and upset, and blind and deaf. He barked, he growled, and he lunged… but always pulled back when his legs buckled from the pain.

I had her grab a blanket and we rolled him onto it, using that to lift him. He thrashed and growled and snapped at me while we walked him towards the door, but he wasn't getting out of the wrap we had him in.

As we're out the door, I noticed a man at the neighboring house. He raised his hand in greeting, but lowered it in confusion.

"Grandpa, is it alright if I get him to come help while you bring the car around?"

The best she could do was nod.

"Yeah, sorry, to bug you but can I ask for a little help here?" He looks at what we're doing and drops his trash can lid to come help. "Yeah, just take that end there and we're gonna ease him into the car when she comes around."

He nodded, took the ends, and we tucked a very confused Jake into the back seat. I thanked the neighbor, Grandpa sped off, and I went back to work feeling extremely odd about it.

That was the first time that I'd ever met the dog: on his way to be put down.

I know it seems weird to tell that story, but there's a reason. Part of it is symbolic. Part of it has to do with kittens. But we're not there just yet.

So now it's February and it is crunch time for Valentine’s Day. We have no earthly idea what this holiday is going to look like because past experiences have us anticipating a large number of walk ins, but state regulations have put a limit of six customers inside the store at any one time. We were never given any… instructions on how to enforce that rule, so we just kind of vaguely set out roles for who has to be the bouncer at the flower shop.

But before all of that, we had to make 275 two-dozen red rose arrangements in bowls. Based on our sales last year and general growth, we were expecting something close to five hundred deliveries on our busiest day. If I wasn't making them, I was counting them. And I was counting, and I was counting, and I was counting… every hour, just like it was at Christmas. We used up every single red rose in the place and came up short.

To which we were scolded: we must have used the roses they sent us for other orders because there was no way the error could have been on their end! Their inventory was impervious to mistakes. Somewhere between the warehouse and our store, twenty-five packs of roses went missing! And why is it only our store that has these problems? Clearly it must be our fault- a store full of thieves and liars and delinquents.

They ended up sending more just because… you know… they care. I guess.

And every hour, they needed a number of something and I counted, and counted and counted…

I think it was February 8 that I started crying every day. When I slept I was stiff as a board because I made so many mistakes throughout the day that the idea of coming to work the next day just to make more mistakes made me lock up entirely. There was no way to relax. There was no winding down from a hard day of work because my body could not move anymore.

I felt like I was made of splintering wood.

I had a dream around this time that I quit my job. I was so happy. I thought about it almost every hour.

So I stayed out of the way at work, picking up cleaning projects because at least there I could be useful and it was dark enough in the cooler that if I started crying no one had to see it.

That cooler was so clean. I wouldn't recommend eating off of it because I used an entire bottle of bleach to clean the floor.

If we're not counting the constant barrage of demands from corporate to count, count, count; Valentine’s Day was worryingly uneventful. Previous holidays were chaotic: filling the requests of the most desperate and clueless men with deep pockets and expensive tastes. Corralling the temporary drivers and make sure no one gets into any crashes or… uh...tries to sell unregulated merchandise from their trunks. Trying to decide what "Malibu Barbie Pink" meant for that one customer who comes in every six months and orders it but has rejected every color pink on the spectrum that our store has ever offered.

On this one… nothing important happened.

We were… slow.

Grandpa started sending people home early because there weren't many orders. We ran out of projects to do.

Sounds great, right?

...heh…

Corporate would like to know why our store is under projected sales by over 200, as if we have any say in how many people buy from us. Like we personally called all our typical customer base and told them not to come to this store. "Yes, hello Mrs. Penderghast? I'm sorry we can't fill your Valentine's Day order this year because we suck balls and don't want your business. Have a nice weekend. Say hi to the grandkids for me."

I don't… fucking KNOW! I don't work in PR! I'd ask the people in that department if they know what happened but… that's the owners. So who really is the fuckup here? Not me, that's for fucking certain! I cleaned the cooler. That's all I did all weekend was clean the Gods damned cooler because there wasn't enough work to go around so I made work for myself.

And then: "Why are the counts off," asked Mt. Rushmore. See, we called them that because between the owners, Puppet, and the head designer we had four white men looking down at us while we did all the work and built their success on the backs of their forefathers. Well… to me it was anyway. To everyone else it was four dudes that looked down on you.

"Why are the counts off?"

Oh, the COUNTS are off? Well, let me just drop everything I'm doing right now and count them for the third time in the past hour because that takes fucking priority.

"There's 95 specials missing from your inventory. Where are they?"

...okay, 95 is a lot. But it was also kind of hard to know how they were 'missing' when we'd sold all of the 275 that we made. How can they be missing if we sold them.

"We need to know where they are."

We don't know where they are. Because we sold all of them. The math didn't add up.

But they hounded us about it like we'd stolen them and resold them on the street corner. Which, to their defense, had happened once (but Sugar stopped doing that when her corner was taken over by the woman who accused Jay of being a demon.) But 95 is a huge number, and these arrangements were a foot wide and two feet tall. Someone would have noticed if a 100x200 foot square opened up in the cooler.

We literally could not know what the fuck they were talking about.

And the truth was extremely stupid: those 95 pieces were redeliveries. When someone has an issue with their order, like it didn't come or it was left out in the snow and got damaged or… someone put the name of their ex on the card instead of their wife… we send a replacement. But depending on who took the phone call, a person might use the wrong code and put it in for 'redeliver' instead- which counts it as another order.

We weren't missing 95 arrangements. We had 95 redeliveries. They hounded us about inventory for two days over a clerical error.

I decided I'd had it. We were going on a full week of crying every time I had a moment alone. They had made us feel like everything that went wrong was our fault: from low turnout to high turnover, missed deliveries and trashed sprays, lost accounts and new grievances…

But did they ever say a Gods damned thing about how hard we worked? How good we were? About how great a team we were under pressure? We once pulled together an entire wedding in fifteen minutes. My ass carried this store through the pandemic. I have done… so much.

So fucking much.

And yet it's our fault.

I had been reasoning with myself that I would stick around for the aftermath when Grandpa was eventually fired: we'd all felt it was coming. But I got that little bit of cash and all my joints were screaming and every time we got negative feedback a part of me died.

The following Tuesday had seen a massive snowstorm. Things that weren't already closed due to the pandemic were closed due to weather.

But we still had to be there. Because someone had to be there to make all the funeral pieces.

Because there wouldn't be a truck the next day, which meant that all of the funeral pieces that we'd sent to the headquarters needed to be made in-house. Which, once again, could have been avoided if we had kept the funeral orders in-house to begin with.

I waited until everyone had cleared out before I said it.

"Grandpa, I have to quit."

I don't think anyone ever looked so disappointed in me in my life.

"Why?"

"The way they treat people here is terrible and I can't see myself doing another Mother's Day for this company. They're so… mean! And for no damn reason! I have cried every day for the past week because I see the way they treat you and I'm… I'm tired."

I thought she was going to cry, but she nodded. "I can't stop you," she said. "I shouldn't stop you. If it's affecting your mental health like this, I'll miss you but its for the best. You know they'll want a written notice."

"And you know I'll tell them the truth," I said.

"...it's not me, is it?"

"If I worked for just you and those fuckers were out of the picture, I would stay. And you can count on me to tell them that."

"Any flower shop you apply to would be lucky to have you."

So I drafted up a resignation letter telling them exactly how I feel: that the way they run this company was asinine and they treated their employees like garbage. They received it on Thursday. Everyone at the shop knew by then. They were upset…

...but they understood.

Puppet did not understand. He emailed Grandpa asking her what she's doing that her people keep leaving.

He didn't see it. He didn't see that he was part of the problem. It always had to be someone else's fault. I explicitly said in my letter whose fault it was and he still didn't take any responsibility.

But suddenly I'm one of their best designers, and he begged me to reconsider, take some time off to think about it. They desperately wanted me to stay and they were willing to bargain, I just needed demands.

No one's ever… begged me before. I don't know if I like that.

This is when it dawned on me that I was next in line. It all made sense now: training me to route, making me do all the extra work, and now they want me to stay?

They were planning on getting rid of Grandpa and promoting me to manager. In a perfect world where Grandpa resigns willingly and I’m promoted on my merits as a designer and the company wasn’t very quickly circling the drain, I would be excited. But I wasn’t. I was frightened. I watched them take a confident, extremely talented woman and turn her into the whipping boy of the flower shop. And if I were in her position, I would have quit. But I don’t have the strength to stand up to the people that are signing my paycheck.

Why… am I at a place where the idea of moving upward makes me more scared than excited?

Flattering, but no. I've seen how you treat your people. My demands are to treat them better.

It was the longest week for me: making lists of pros and cons. I had made a lot of friends there and there's stuff that I will never forget. But the fact that the only people who didn't understand why I was leaving were the people who had the most to lose really hit me in the knees. I could tell them every day for the rest of their lives why they suck and it wouldn't matter because nothing was ever their fault.

And at 7:00 on Friday, I turned in my key.

I didn't have a plan, I didn't have anything lined up. This was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make and I was just kind of… throwing myself at it.

I don't do that. I always have a plan. I look into every possible scenario and I try to make the smart choice. And this time…

I didn't.

It was probably stupid.

But I slept for 12 hours the next night and I could feel my bones settling into their rightful places. I didn't realize how many health problems were caused by standing for 9 hours a day, 11 days a week until I was home all the time to notice them changing. I will always have a limp from trying to pretend I don't have a limp. I'm pretty sure that ulcer is chronic. But my back isn't seizing up and I don't cry every day anymore.

That's something, I think.

About a week after my departure, I got a text from Grandpa that said:

"Hey guess what."

"What," I replied.

The next text was a picture of a week's old seal-point kitten with terminal eye-goo, wrapped in a towel.

"Pop-eye!?"

"I'm keeping this one," she said. The strays had dropped a litter of identical baby kittens by her pond. Two years later, with Jake put down, she could finally have Pop-eye, even if it was version 2.0.

The next text was a few days later. "Puppet fired me."

"What!? Why?"

"Too many accidents, too high turnaround. The new people suck, he says no one wants to work with me."

"Are you okay? How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." She paused and the loading screen did its little dot dance. "I'm playing with my kitten."

#cw #pet death #death #workers rights violations #if you want to know everything #this is everything

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arvinsescape · 4 years ago

Text

His wife

Summary: Mobster Tom Holland was never going to get married and then he met her.

Warnings: Swearing, implied smut.

W/C: 1.9K

Tom Holland was one of the most feared men in London. He took over his family’s business at a young age and was growing more powerful by the year. He never thought he’d get married; he became so wrapped up in taking complete power throughout London that he never thought past one-night stands. Then he met her.

Tom walked into the club in hopes of finding a way of relaxing. He’d been cooped up in his office and meeting room all week and he needed a distraction for the night. He noticed her instantly, black dress that stopped just above her knees, a rare sight for one of his establishments. Most women would show up in the shortest and skimpiest looking outfits in hopes of the mobster taking them home for the night. Not her though.

He made his way over to where she was standing at the bar and was instantly taken back by her beauty. She wasn’t covered in a ridiculous amount of make-up, she let her natural beauty do the work for her. He’d found his distraction.

“Now what is a pretty girl like you doing at the bar alone?” He asked. Usually he would instantly be met with the batting of eyelashes and his job was half done. Not her.

“Does that line usually work?” She asked him amused.

“Every time love.” He fired back equally as amused. She’d laughed at that.

“Gonna have to try a little harder if you want to get me into bed.”

“Darling, you are aware of who I am?” He smirked.

“Very Mr Holland.” She’d challenged. Fuck that sounded hot coming out of her mouth.

“So you know I have a reputation for not disappointing.” He was being cocky now, hoping maybe she’d find that attractive.

“I’ve heard rumours. But what makes you think I want to sleep with you?” She asked, amused look on her face. He was somewhat taken aback by it, not used to having to work so hard, he liked it.

“Well most of the women that come in here hope to end up in my bed. Forgive me for assuming.” He tried. She snorted as she brought her drink up to her lips.

“Maybe I just came in for a drink?” She fired back. There was a hint of flirtation there but not enough for him to work with. He had never met anyone who challenged him like this and he found it that much more of a turn on.

He found himself distracted in a different way that evening. She was flirty but kept him at arm’s length. She challenged him and didn’t seem to have that look of fear in her eyes most people did when they spoke to him.

“So, I have to point out. You don’t want to sleep with me, yet here you still are?” He was close to her now and most bystanders could almost feel the sexual tension radiating off them. Tom included.

“Here I still am.” She leaned in a little closer to him, she snaked her arms around his shoulders which took him by surprise. Most of the women he encountered wanted him to dominate them from the second he met them. But here she was somewhat taking control. His hands instantly found her waist.

He wanted to kiss her but he wasn’t entirely sure it was just to get her into bed anymore. He found her intriguing. His wants took over and he found himself leaning closer to her. She moved one of her hands and slipped it into his suit. ‘Got you’ was all Tom thought and just as he was about to kiss her, she moved away from him.

He looked at her dumbfounded as did most of the bystanders. No one was used to seeing this.

“Mr Holland. I don’t kiss before a man has bought me coffee.” She’s said and this had him smirking as she winked before grabbing her purse and walking out of the club.

It wasn’t until he got home that night that he realised she’d slipped her number into his suit. He’d smiled upon finding it and found himself texting her almost daily. He learned a lot about her in a way he’d never taken the time to know anyone outside of his close family and friends. Usually he wanted to know about people for business purposes, but not her. He found himself wanting to know more and more about her, it was as if she was reeling him in, not the other way around.

It wasn’t until six months after that meeting that Tom found himself in bed with her and by that point he was hopelessly in love and completely wrapped around her little finger. Some people thought she was using him, that had been the rumour at first, women became jealous when they heard Tom Holland was off limits.

That was not the case at all, she was just as in love with him as he was with her. He found himself asking her to marry him eighteen months later. Some people said it was too fast but in his business, life held a different sort of meaning. It could be ripped from you any day. She’d not hesitated to say yes. They married six months later and became a powerhouse of London.

He loved everything about her. She wasn’t intimidated by the men around her; she was powerful in her own way. She knew she didn’t stand a chance physically but mentally she could outwit every man in the room. She was the reason he didn’t fail business deals, the reason he got what he wanted. She became someone he wanted there to close deals.

He remembers the first time she’d somewhat taken control in a meeting. He was negotiating territory with a mobster who was losing power but being stubborn about it. He wanted to avoid bloodshed with the older mobster, so he’d have to take it from him slowly.

“Ask for 50% Tom.” She’d said as she sat on the edge of his desk fixing his tie.

“He’s not going to give me that. I’m not sure he’ll be happy with 40.”

“No, but if he thinks you want 50, he’ll settle easier for 40. He knows you want to avoid bloodshed but he also knows he’d lose if it came to it so he has to give you something.” She’d said as she finished fixing his tie.

“You’re too clever for your own good my love.” He said as he placed his hands on her waist and she wrapped hers round his shoulders as she laughed. He thought it was a beautiful sound.

“Makes me wonder how I got everything done before.” He leant down to give her a kiss. The kiss quickly became heated as he moved her back further onto the desk. His hand was trailing up her thigh as she let out quiet whimpers against his lips.

Just as he was about to get where she needed him most someone knocked on the door. He stood as he brought her with him. She was smoothing out her dress as he spoke.

“Come in.” Harrison popped his head around the office door. He smirked when he took in her flushed state.

“He’s here.” Harrison said.

They’d been in the meeting for half an hour, you were sat on your husband’s lap as his arm was around your waist.

“Tell you what Holland, I’ll give you 40% if the lovely lady has a drink with me. A drink of my choice.” The older mobster said. She wondered for a second if he was purposely trying to rile Tom up.

“I’m a married woman.” She said as she smiled flirtingly at him. Tom tensed but she quickly smoothed a hand down his cheek to calm him down.

“What are you doing?” Tom had whispered into her ear.

“Trust me.” She whispered back as she kissed his cheek.

“Look, I understand that the lovely lady is off limits but what’s the harm in a drink?” The older mobster laughed. Of course, he chose whiskey, it was almost cliché. The strong whisky went down her throat easily as she downed the whole drink, she’d spent enough nights drinking with Tom and could drink as well as they could.

She placed her glass on the table, fingers still grasped around it. The older mobster had laughed when he saw it was empty. “I like you.” He said as he reached over and took her wrist in his hand. She panicked for a second but it quickly dies down. Tom was here. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her and it filled her with a confidence she’d never had before.

She felt as Tom reached for his gun and found herself stopping him as he looked at her confused but he trusted her, she asked him to so he would. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her but he knew she was powerful and a small part of him wanted to see how it would play out.

She looked the mobster straight in the eyes as she spoke.

“Continue to touch me and he’ll take 100% of your territory.” She smiled at him. Tom was impressed to say the least.

“Oh yeah? And how’s that sweetheart?” He fired back.

“All I have to do is ask and you’ll find yourself with a broken wrist and a bullet between your eyes.” She said in a sultry tone as her eyes flicked towards Tom. God, Tom was in love with this woman. “Now I’m not sure about everyone else but I know for certain my husband doesn’t want any stains on this lovely carpet and I wouldn’t want to upset him. He wants to avoid bloodshed but he won’t if you continue to make him angry.” She smirked. Tom swears to God he was instantly hard.

"Is that a threat little bird?" The mobster said and he watched as his wife leant over to speak in his ear.

"That's a promise." And he just came in pants.

Tom watched as fear flashed through the mobster’s eyes momentarily. ‘God, fuck, how did I get so lucky to marry her.’ He thought. The older man let out a loud laugh. “I like her Holland. I really do.” He said as he removed his hand.

Tom instantly relaxed when he saw the hand leave your wrist and he tightened his arm around her waist. They continued to make the deal and Tom found his hand wandering to hem of her dress every now and again. When they left, deal happily made he kissed along her shoulder.

“That was fucking hot.” He said as he kissed her neck. She smirked at him as he moved her back onto the meeting table.

After that she became his secret weapon, she knew what to do and she guided him in the direction of getting everything he wanted. He’d managed to start taking over quickly, he was avoiding fights and bloodshed when it was unnecessary because of her and it was keeping the police off his back, making his job easier. They were absolutely in love with each other and pushed each other to be better, to get what they wanted and although he never thought he’d get married he was so thankful he did.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #mob!tom

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homoose · 4 years ago

Text

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part I

Summary: When Will asks him to pick Michael up from school, Spencer may or may not develop a schoolboy crush on the kindergarten teacher.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: Here she is! I’m not sure exactly what it is about Spencer Reid x teacher!reader, but it is my most requested fic topic, and I am happy to oblige! This is the first in a multi-part series. Weird is Good also takes place in this verse. Any teacher!reader requests will be folded into this verse as well, so feel free to continue sending me those!

Series Masterlist

Click here for the story mentioned, read by everybody’s fave Michelle Obama.

———

“A strong geographical profile is one of the most important pieces of the overall behavioral profile; it significantly narrows the area the team has to cover, allows for law enforcement teams to prioritize and maximize limited resources, and helps focus the investigation in conjunction with the other elements of the profile. And that wraps our section on building geographical profiles!” Spencer smiled at the faces in front of him, gesturing to the board. “The information we covered today will make up a significant portion of your midterm, so make sure to review it before next week. See you all next Thursday!”

As his students began packing up their things, Spencer’s phone rang from inside his bag. When he retrieved the phone and saw Will’s name on the caller ID, his brow furrowed in concern. “Will— everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m sorry to ask, but JJ’s on a case, and my partner and I just finished our last call clear on the other side of the city. Henry’s got soccer practice, but Michael’s gotta be picked up in about— well, shit, right about now. Would you mind picking him up and bringing him ‘round to the house?”

Spencer looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started up the aisle out of the lecture hall. “Yeah, of course! It’s over by the Naval Observatory, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. If you pull ‘round the parking lot, they usually come out the side door. His teacher’s real sweet, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll let her know you’re picking him up.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Spencer pushed open the door and made his way down the hall.

“You’re the best,” Will drawled. “I’ll only be about half an hour.”

…

When Spencer pulled the baby blue Volvo into the parking lot of the school, he saw Michael and Ms. Y/L/N sitting on the steps of school. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, looking down at a book laying across their laps. Her legs were stretched out straight and she pointed down to the page, saying something that made Michael throw his little head back in a laugh that floated in through the open window of the car. Spencer grinned at the familiar sound as he pulled around the carpool loop.

When he recovered from the giggles, Michael caught sight of the car and waved his hand excitedly at Spencer. Ms. Y/L/N looked up and gave a wave as well, albeit a little less vigorous. She closed the book and turned her torso slightly to unzip Michael’s backpack and drop the book into it.

Spencer put the car in park, stepped out, and walked around the car to meet the two of them. Michael was already up and running, throwing himself at Spencer’s legs and hugging them tightly. He leaned down to return the hug. “Hey, buddy! How was school?”

“It was amazing,” Michael gushed, pulling out of the hug to gesture wildly. “We learned how to write the zzz sound, and now we know all the sounds! Oh, and then we used blocks in math, and that was so fun, because Ms. Y/L/N let us build with them when we were done counting. Oh, and then we learned about frogs, and they are so cool. Did you know that frogs have night vision? Oh, and Ms. Y/L/N said I could borrow my favorite book from the classroom library! She read it to me already while we were waiting for you, but maybe you could read it to me, too? I can read some of the words but not all of them yet, so I still need some help.”

Spencer smiled widely at him. “Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I did know that about frogs, actually! And of course, I’d love to read with you.”

“The book’s called Giraffe Problems, and it’s about this giraffe named Edward who doesn’t like his neck.” Michael looked at Ms. Y/L/N. “What’s the turtle’s name again?”

“Cyrus,” Ms. Y/L/N reminded him.

“Right, Cyrus.” He looked at Spencer. “See, that one is tricky because c’s don’t usually make the sss sound, but sometimes they do. Ms. Y/L/N’s teaching me about it, even though she said it’s kinda hard for kindergarten.”

“Because you’ve got a big, powerful brain, right?” she said, tapping her temple and winking at Michael. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N, by the way. You must be the infamous uncle Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then she smiled at him and his big, powerful brain melted inside of his skull.

Michael continued talking, and Spencer briefly wondered if this is how people felt when he rambled. Michael lost his attention immediately, because all he could do was stare at Ms. Y/L/N. Her eyes glinted with humor as he chattered on. She followed his expressive motions with well-timed nods and mhmms, a skill she’d no doubt honed through years of indulging kindergarten babbling. She met Spencer’s eyes every so often, only a slight eyebrow raise indicating her amusement. Her hair had been tied back, but soft pieces had come loose throughout the day, falling into her face and around her shoulders. Up close, he could see that the print of her collared a-line dress was hundreds of green frogs. On her feet were a pair of beat up, low top converse, and Spencer thought he could physically feel the crush branding the chambers of his heart. He was jolted out of his thoughts by Michael’s hand tugging on his pant leg, and he looked down to see him looking up expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” Spencer asked him.

“I said,” Michael repeated with a sigh, “can we look up the author and see if he has any other books?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, buddy.”

“Jory John has lots of amazing books,” Ms. Y/L/N confirmed. “You’ll love the series he wrote with Pete Oswald.” She smiled at the pair of them before checking her watch. “I’ve gotta go pack up, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.” She winked at Spencer, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “It was nice meeting you, uncle Spencer.” She waved again and then turned up the stairs to disappear into the building.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, and then turned to Michael. “Well. All right, are you ready to go home?”

…

They were settled into the car and halfway home before Michael finally needed to take a breath. Spencer capitalized on the break in conversation.

“So, Ms. Y/L/N seems pretty cool,” Spencer hedged.

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Michael confirmed with a nod. “On Fridays she lets us put on the smocks and paint. And she has really good story voices. Oh, and she also has these really cool blocks that stick together—magnet blocks. And when I fell off the jungle gym and got a big scrape, she gave me a Paw Patrol bandaid! And she gives great hugs.”

“Good story voices, huh?” Spencer met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Better than mine?”

Michael tilted his head in deep thought. “Hmmmm. It’s pretty close. Your wizard voice is good, but she does accents.”

Spencer blew out a dramatic breath. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game.”

“You’re gonna have to practice a lot, because Ms. Y/L/N reads to us every day.” Michael raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Hey!” Spencer looked incredulous. “I read every day, too!”

“Yeah, but do you read with story voices every day?” Michael clarified.

Spencer sighed. “Well, I guess not.”

“It’s okay, uncle Spencer,” Michael soothed. “You can’t be the best at everything.”

“So they are better than mine?”

Michael pressed his lips together, and Spencer almost laughed at how much he looked like JJ. “... maybe.”

…

A trail of shoes and school supplies led to the couch, where Spencer and Michael sat shoulder to shoulder. They were on their second read of Giraffe Problems. Spencer took a long, dramatic breath before launching into Cyrus’ banana speech, and Michael burst into a fit of giggles. With his best theatrical voice, Spencer read down the page. “Yet, day after day, I’ve felt like such a fool as I stretched my neck toward those greedy branches, only to be limited by my own physical shortcomings.” He flipped the page and changed his tone. “You… want a banana from a tree?” He looked at Michael and said, quickly and in a low voice, “That’s what I said, yes.” Michael wheezed out another laugh.

Spencer finished the story, Michael mouthing the words along with him. When they reached the last page, Spencer softly closed the book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty great story.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Ms. Y/L/N said she likes it because it reminds us that we gotta love ourselves and our bodies for how they are.”

Spencer nodded. “Absolutely. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us special.”

“Yeah. I just really like when he’s wearing all the scarves.” Michael burst into another fit of laughter, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh with him.

The front door opened, and Will was smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “I could hear y’all laughing all the way down the sidewalk.”

“Daddy!” Michael jumped up from the couch, and Will bent to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. It sure sounds like you and uncle Spencer had fun, though.” He shot Spencer a wide smile.

“We read Giraffe Problems. Can we read it again later?” Michael asked.

“Sure thing. We can read it before bedtime.” Will set him down, furrowing his brow. “Wait, Giraffe Problems? Is that a new one?”

Michael shook his head. “Ms. Y/L/N let me borrow it from the library. I have to give it back in two weeks.”

“Man, Michael, you really lucked out, huh?” Will posited. “Ms. Y/L/N is so good to you.”

“Jeez, everybody’s saying that today,” Michael sighed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N is amazing, we all know this.”

“All right, sass monster. I didn’t know uncle Spencer thought she was amazing, too.” Will grinned. “We gotta go pick up Henry in a few minutes. I’ll get you a snack, and you can pick up your things?” He gestured to the mess of shoes and school supplies in the foyer.

Spencer smiled sheepishly. “That’s probably my fault. We were just so excited to read the book.”

“Ah yeah, I know how he gets.” Will crossed to the kitchen. “A one track mind, that one. Thanks again for picking him up today.”

Spencer stood from the couch and followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s no problem at all! I can do it any time.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother y—”

“It’s not a bother!” Spencer schooled his voice back into a normal register at Will’s raised eyebrow. “It—It’s not a bother at all. I, um— I have a lot of free time when I’m on sabbatical. Especially since I’m only teaching one course this semester. Plus, I love seeing the boys.”

“I’ll remember that.” Will smiled. “So… Ms. Y/L/N’s amazing, huh?”

Spencer just knew that his cheeks were as red as the apple Will was cutting up. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, she was— she was really nice.”

“She’s not bad looking, either,” Will supplied. When Spencer’s mouth fell open, Will continued, “What? JJ thinks so, too. Don’t tell me you didn’t even look, because I know that’s a lie.”

Spencer sputtered, “I— well, I—”

“Daddy, can we get an ice-cream on the way home?” Michael interrupted, completely unfazed.

Will laughed. “Saved by the bell, uncle Spencer. Yeah, buddy, we can get ice-cream.”

…

“It’s not weird to look her up. I just want to know more about the person who’s educating my godson,” Spencer tried to reassure himself as he pulled up the school’s website. He scrolled to find the teacher pages, a little smile crossing his face when he saw Ms. Y/L/N’s picture— white ruffled shirt, red bow, and black hat. A perfect tribute to Mary Poppins.

He dropped his smile. “She barely said five sentences to you, and you didn’t say anything back.” His eyes wandered over the links on the side, landing on the About Me section. “But she did say she’d heard a lot about you, so it’s only fair that you get to know a little about her.” Against his better judgment, he clicked the page link. A photo of Ms. Y/L/N— grinning and holding a very distraught-looking black cat— popped up on the screen, and Spencer laughed aloud.

I grew up on a farm outside of Fayetteville, NC before moving to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. I moved to DC to earn my Master’s in Early Childhood Education, and I have been teaching here for 8 years! I love working with young learners, because children grow so much in their foundational years. Watching a child have a lightbulb moment is one of my greatest joys. When I'm not in the classroom, I love to read, travel, play scrabble, and spend time with my cat Roald (pronounced Roo-all)!

Spencer scrolled through the pictures of Ms. Y/L/N and her students. There were pictures in their “smocks,” which Spencer discovered were really just old t-shirts. There was one of her in the middle of some very animated story telling, and another of a field trip to the zoo. In each one, the smiles beamed out through the computer screen in a digital portrait of unbridled joy, contagious even over the waves of the internet. Smiling to himself, he clicked on the tab labeled Teaching Philosophy.

I believe that every child is an extraordinary and essential piece of our classroom puzzle. In order to nurture the unique individuality of each of my students, I work hard to make our classroom a safe, positive, and supportive community where students are given the space to express themselves. Our classroom culture is also one of kindness and creativity, where each individual is valued and celebrated for who they are!

Spencer swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat as he thought back on his own school career. While his teachers had always appreciated his intelligence, he honestly couldn’t recall a moment where he had felt valued for just… being himself. The majority of his time in school had been spent unsuccessfully fending off bullies, completing other students’ homework, or being gawked at like some sort of alien. He was grateful that Michael would hopefully never go through anything like what he’d experienced; at least not while Ms. Y/L/N was around.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he leaned back in the desk chair to pull it out. He swiped it open to read the incoming text.

JJ: So......... you like Ms. Y/L/N, huh? 😉😉😉

Spencer: What?! Did Will tell you that? I didn’t say that.

JJ: Some things you don’t have to say out loud, Spence.

———

Tags: @spacedikut

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #professor!reid #professor!spencer #teacher!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes #TMSIDK

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softholand · 4 years ago

Text

pot valiant - t.h

pairing: bartender!tom x reader

summary: pot-valiant, definition; bold or courageous under the influence of alcoholic drink

warnings: drinking, swearing, smut, dom!tom

words: 4.3k

a/n: i did it!!! bartender!tom was always present in my mind and after that picture (thanks paddy!!) i couldn’t help myself ;))) i hope you guys like this and please let me know what you think <3 enjoy!!

Two weeks, three days, 5 hours, and 22 seconds. That was the time your best friend Briana gave you to mourn your last failed relationship. Once that time had passed, she broke into your house, made you take a much necessary shower, forcing you to shave and wash your hair, while she took care of the mess that was your house. Plastic food containers and cans of beer and Coca-Cola littered both the kitchen and the living room floor, making the house smell like a garbage can.

“Glad to see you’re still alive!” Briana cheered after you got out of the shower, wearing your fluffy robe. “I am but barely. Wow, what did you do to my house?” You asked, being met with a completely different scenario from the one you left.

“I just put out the trash, y/n! Something you should have done before.” Briana scolded you, making you roll your eyes. “Should have waited and put me out too, since I feel like trash!” You groaned, flopping down on your sofa.

“Hey, no, no, no! Get up, y/n! We’re going out!” Your best friend announced, before trying to make you stand. “Noooo, please, Bri! I’ll do anything you want, but that!” You pleaded, but it was of no use. “I don’t wanna hear it, y/n! I didn’t come here to clean your house, I came to take you out of here and that’s what I’m gonna do.” Briana stated, taking your hands.

“Bri, I love you, but please let me stay just a little longer, I’m not ready for the outside world yet.” You groaned, trying your best to convince your best friend. “y/n, I love you too, that’s why I’m here! I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore! Yeah, what Tyler did to you was fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living your life because of it.” Briana exclaimed.

“I know, Bri! I know! It’s just… hard for me to wrap my head around the fact he ditched me after all this time and that I’m single now.” You sighed, starting to feel emotional. At that, Briana pulled you closer and wrapped her arms around you, engulfing you in one of her best hugs. “I’m sorry, y/n! I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” Bri apologized, making you chuckle through your tears. “It’s okay, Bri! It’s not your fault, really. I’m just… a mess!” You laughed, drying your face with the robe sleeves.

“One drink. We get one drink and if you still don’t wanna stay after that, we leave. I promise!” Your friend offered, with hopeful eyes. “Fine! One drink!” You sighed, to which she squealed. “Yes! Thank you, y/n! You’re not gonna regret it! I’ve found this new club, it opened just a couple of weeks ago. You’re gonna love it!” She grinned. “Now, go put on your best outfit, we’re going out!” Briana squealed, making you laugh at her excitement.

About an hour later and after a whole lot of makeup and trying on clothes, Briana finally decided you were done with what she called: a Cinderella transformation. Of course, you laughed at her choice of words, and to irritate your friend, even more, you asked if you also should be back at midnight. She gave you the middle finger, before giving up and joining you in laughter.

After a quick cab ride, that could be done by feet, not with the heels you two were wearing though, you and Briana were at the new club she talked about. Once inside, you had to admit your best friend was right. The place looked like a mix of everything you enjoyed, the walls were coated in a beautiful shade of red, while the lounge area was filled with dark green sofas. Different from the other places you had been to, the bar on this one was positioned right in the middle, with bar stools in that same dark green velvet texture, rounding the space. The dim light that filled the space gave a mysterious/sensual vibe, something you were also a fan of.

Briana immediately dragged you to the bar, waiting patiently for one of the many bartenders. While she made her request, you took the time to scan the place, noting some artsy bits that complemented the space. “What can I get you?” A smooth masculine voice took you out of your daze, making you avert your attention to him. Right in front of you, a gorgeous boy with hazel eyes and chocolatey brown curls grinned at you, waiting for your answer. What was even the question?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” You apologized, making his smile grow even more. “I asked what can I get you tonight, darling?” He asked, making you smile with the nickname. “Oh, uh… a daiquiri, please!” You finally said, not being able to avert his gaze. “Good choice! I’ll be right back, girls!” He smirked, before going to the enormous wall of beverages behind him.

Once he was out of earshot, Briana lightly kicked your bare leg, getting your attention. “Isn’t he hot?” She mouthed, making you roll your eyes. “Really, Bri? Already?” Shaking your head, you went back to looking at your surroundings. “Oh, c’mon y/n! A woman has to eat!” Briana joked, making you both burst out laughing.

Seconds later, hot guy was back, this time with two cocktail shakers in his hands. Like every bartender in the world, he made his presentation while pouring the ingredients into the containers, making sure to really flex his arms while shaking it. Not that you noticed.

With two glasses in front of you, he poured the drinks in, doing the finishing touches before serving them to you. “Two pretty drinks for two pretty ladies, enjoy!” He smirked, before going back to his business. “Oh God, he only gets better!” Briana jokingly fanned herself, making you laugh. “He’s just doing his job, Bri! How many times do you think he used that one?” You asked your friend, who rolled her eyes at you. “You’re no fun!” She groaned, putting her tongue out.

Briana was only halfway through her Cosmopolitan when one of her favorite songs started to play. She made everything in her power to make you go with her but you denied her offer, stating you were fine watching her from the bar. With her drink in her hands, she made her way into the dance floor, purposely shaking her booty at you, which made you laugh and almost choke on your barely touched drink.

“Not into dancing?” The same voice from minutes ago asked, startling you. “Oh, no! Not today, at least!” You shrugged, offering him a smile. “So, what brought you and your friend here? I’m Tom, by the way!” He asked, cleaning the surface in front of him, making the watch he wore catch the fluorescent lights of the club. “y/n! And to be honest, she dragged me here.” You told him, giving into their usual small talks. “Wanna talk about it? I’m a pretty damn good listener!” He offered you with a smile.

You took a deep breath, asking yourself if it was really a good idea to share a part of your life with a stranger, and since you weren’t going to step foot on the dance floor, you thought this was the next most reasonable thing to do. Right? “Well, I was into a two-year relationship that ended a couple of weeks ago, and apparently staying inside your house, eating takeout food, and crying over stupid romantic movies is not a very healthy thing to do, so today she went to my house and here I am.” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

Once you looked at Tom, he gave you a pitiful look, to which you shrugged. “That’s not even the worst part though.” You said, the alcohol in your system already making the choices for you. “Instead of calling me or sending me a text asking to talk, you know, like a normal person, he invited me to his parents’ tenth-anniversary party and broke up with me in front of his whole family, claiming I wasn’t what he wanted in a relationship anymore.” With a raise of your glass, you finished your sad story, downing the rest of your daiquiri.

“Damn, what a dick!” Tom breathed after a couple of seconds, making you chuckle. “Oh, well! Cheers to single life, I guess…” You said, raising your now empty glass. “Need a refill?” He asked, pointing to the glass on your hands. “Please!” You huffed, before thanking him. “What will it be now?” Tom smirked, seeing your thinky face. “I don’t know, something strong.” He nodded, giving you two thumbs-ups, before going back to the wall to collect the ingredients.

Once the song ended, Briana came back to you and you two chatted until Tom came back with your drink, waiting for your approval. “It’s good! I like it! Thanks, Tom!” You smiled, locking eyes with him. “Do you want a refill too, darling?” He asked Briana, to which she said a beer would be fine. Once he was off, you felt your best friend's eyes burning a hole in your skull. “What?” You asked, impatiently. “We’re already on a name basis then?” Briana smirked, making you roll your eyes at her. “Yeah, I mean, he introduced himself, what did you want me to do?” You snapped and that was enough to her smirk double in size. “Okay, girl! You sure you don’t want to go home then?” She asked you for what felt like the fifth time. “Yes, Bri! I’m good! I promise!” You assured your best friend before she once again was off to the dance floor.

You quietly took sips of your new strawberry drink, watching from afar as your friend seemed to get her eyes on a specific guy for the night. She gave you a wink, making you roll your eyes at her antics. “She seems to be enjoying herself.” You heard Tom’s voice, turning the barstool to find him looking at you. “Yeah, she always does!” You agreed, taking another sip of your drink. “So, you’re from here?” He asked, sounding interested. “Yeah, I’m a local! You?” You said, raising your brows. “Same!” He smiled, going right to the next question.

The conversation kept going for most of the night, Tom attended some clients, while you took sips of your drinks, and once he was free, he was right back at you with another round of questions. Seeing as Briana wasn’t by your side anymore, you welcomed his company, glad at least this way you wouldn’t be left alone. “Museologist? I’ve never heard that before!” He grinned, making you chuckle. “Yeah, it’s not very common. Basically what I do is investigate and preserve material cultural stuff, like paintings, sculptures or constructions and immaterial, such as traditions and folklore.” You answered and Tom couldn’t help but find adorable the way your eyes lit up while you talked.

Briana came back after a couple more songs, sitting by your side and asking Tom another beer. “So, found your prey?” You joked, making her laugh. “Actually, I did! See that blonde? With the samurai bun?” She pointed and you nodded once your eyes landed on him. “Nice, Bri!” You complemented, giving her a playful high five. “Right? And he’s so sweet and smart and funny! He even asked me if I wanted to go to his house.” She blurted, seemingly disappointed. “And?” You asked, not getting why she reacted that way. “Oh, no! I’m not leaving you. I dragged you here so I’m taking you home.” Briana exclaimed, to which you rolled your eyes. “Bri, I’m totally able to call a cab and go home by myself. I’m fine, I promise! You can go with Mr. Samurai bun if you want.” You assured her, seeing her eyes widen. “No, y/n/n! I promised you!” She protested, making you groan. “I’m fine, Bri! Go with him!” Once again, you insisted. “Are you sure?” She asked and you had to laugh at her. “I’m not a child, Bri! Now go, he’s not going to wait all night!” You teased, getting a hug and a kiss on the cheek from your friend before she was off.

“Lost your friend?” Tom asked once he was back from his bartender duties. “Yeah, it's just me now and I think I’ll actually call it a night and go home.” You told him, making him frown. “Hey, not to sound creepy or anything but are you going by yourself? Because that’s not very safe and my shift ends in like ten minutes. If you want, I can accompany you.” With hopeful eyes, the boy in front of you smiled, making your heart flutter just a tiny bit. You thought about leaving a stranger accompanied you home, you really did, but something in your gut told you it was fine, Tom was a good guy and would never do anything to harm you. So, you went with it. “Yeah, that would be great, actually.” You smiled and ten minutes later, you were both leaving the club, at 3:30 in the morning.

Tom offered to call a cab but seeing as your house was only a few minutes away, you asked if it was okay for him that you guys walked. He agreed and with the moon illuminating your steps, the pair of you made your way into the almost silent streets. You guys kept talking and occasionally your hands would brush on one another, which caused little butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Once in front of your apartment building, you stopped, having no idea what to do next, since you were in a relationship for the last two years.

“It was nice meeting and talking to you, Tom!” You said, opting for the easiest way out. “Yeah, the feeling is mutual, y/n!” He answered, stuffing both of his hands in his pockets. “Thank you for… listening.” You mumbled, making him chuckle. “Of course! Whenever you need!” He smiled, not moving a muscle. “I’ll see you around, then. Bye!” With a little wave of your hand, you made your way to the door, while Tom watched you from his place. “Sure! Bye, y/n!” He exclaimed, making you smile, finally entering the building.

That’s how you found yourself going back to that same club every Friday, getting a couple of drinks while talking to Tom, then being escorted home by him. You had been doing this for almost a month now and Briana was starting to get suspicious. It was Friday again and she had just called you while you finished getting ready. “So, any plans for tonight?” She asked, already predicting your answer. “Not really, just gonna get some drinks and head home.” You said while clasping your black sandals. “Tom’s gonna bring you home again?” You sighed, already knowing where this conversation was heading. “I don’t know, Bri! If he wants to.” You looked in the mirror for the last time, before taking your bag and heading out. Once Briana finally hung up, you threw your phone into your purse, getting into the cab.

The routine was the same, you got in, spotted Tom, sat in one of the many barstools, and waited for him to approach you. “What can I get this beautiful lady today?” He joked, a smile wide on his face. Today he was wearing a simple black shirt, tight around his muscles, the watch still sat proudly on his wrist, and his curls were a little bit messier than most days. “You know you don’t have to waste your pickup lines with me, Tom.” You smiled, watching his reaction. “Okay then, what can I get this grumpy old lady today?” He smirked, making you chuckle. “A Sex On The Beach, please?!” You grinned and after a quick wink, he was off.

The rest of the night passed like magic, you didn’t even see the time pass and once you took a look at your phone, you saw that it was almost time for Tom’s shift to end, which meant it was time to head home. The chilly London air hit as soon as you stepped out of the club, making you shiver, seeing as you were only in a dress. Like the gentleman he was, Tom took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, and although you protested, saying he was going to catch a cold, he assured you he was fine with his shirt.

You didn’t know what you were thinking when the words “Do you wanna come inside?” came out of your mouth but now was definitely too late to take them back. “Oh, yeah! Sure!” Tom agreed, making you smile. The short lift ride was awkward and once you walked into your apartment, the feeling only grew. Tom stayed pretty close to the door, with both of his hands in his pockets, while you put your purse away and turned on the lights. “Welcome and sorry for the mess.” You said, going back to the living room. Tom just smiled, before saying, “You call this messy? You should see my house!” You both laughed and the tension was back in the air. “Do you want anything? Water, wine, beer?” You offered, taking off your shoes and his jacket, putting the both away. “Water would be good.” He said and you quickly made your way to the kitchen, shaking your head to try and get rid of some very intrusive thoughts.

“Thanks!” He smiled, taking the glass from your hands, while your eyes kept focused on his arm and the prominent veins and the way his shirt was almost being ripped by his bicep. “y/n? You here?” Tom’s voice brought you back, making your face grow hot with the knowledge you got caught. “Yes, sorry!” You apologized, watching as his smirk grew in size. He placed the cup on the small table by your door, before taking a couple of steps closer. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he put his hands on your hips, leaning the smallest bit in, not taking that stupid smirk off of his face.

His smell was intoxicating, the mixture of alcohol and mint was definitely making your mind clouded. “Tom…” You whispered once he was only centimeters away from you. “What is it, y/n?” He asked, looking between your eyes and your lips. “Kiss me!” You almost pleaded, his smirk the last thing you saw before his lips were crashing into yours. The feeling was new, you hadn’t kissed anyone since your ex-boyfriend and you couldn’t help but compare them. Tom’s was so much better though, his lips could be thin but they held so much power on them, his mouth worked like magic against yours, and before you knew he was pulling away, completely breathless. The pause didn’t last long though, he looked so good with his lips plumped, the tiniest of the smirks still proudly on them, you just couldn’t help yourself and launched yourself at him.

You backed him against the wall, moaning when you felt his tongue entering your mouth. Tom placed both of his hands on your ass, squeezing it before asking, “Bedroom?” Without breaking the kiss, you pointed in the direction of your room and before you knew it, he was carrying you in his arms. You squealed, wrapping your legs around his torso, before going back to his lips. He placed you on the bed, making a trail of kisses from your neck, all the way to your stomach. Once he positioned himself between your tights, he looked at you with his bright brown eyes, asking if he could take your dress off. You nodded and after a little bit of a struggle, he took the thin material out of your body, leaving you in just a pair of white underwear. “You’re so beautiful!” He whispered, going back to your lips and attacking them with kisses. “Tom, please…” You moaned, growing even more eager to feel him. “What do you want, darling?” He smirked, loving seeing you like that. “You, I want you!” With a shake on your voice, you pleaded and he finally took the clue and went to work.

After another confirmation from you, he discarded your panties, tracing his fingers through your now soaked folds. “You look amazing, y/n!” Tom breathed before going straight to your core. You let out a moan as soon as his lips touched you, making your whole body shake with pleasure. “And tastes amazing too!” He purred, focusing on his task. Your moans only grew louder when he pushed two of his slender fingers on your heat. “Fuck, Tom! Feels so good!” You blurted, not being able to control yourself. “That’s it, baby! I can feel your walls clenching around my fingers. Tell me how much do you wanna cum.” Tom whispered, making you clench even more, only by his words. “Wanna cum, Tom! Please…” You were never this talkative in bed and not once has a guy been this dominant with you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying it. “Cum for me, baby! Wanna hear you scream my name!” He mumbled and finally lost control. Your whole body shook with pleasure and you had to contain yourself from closing your thighs around Tom’s head.

Once you came back from your high, you opened your eyes to find Tom already looking at you, with some of your wetness still glistening on his chin. “You alright?” He asked, concern coating his words. “Yeah!” You smiled, before going back to his lips. With a quick move, you straddled him, helping him take off his shirt, letting his chest perfectly exposed for you. You lowered yourself, leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, neck, collarbones, chest, each one of his abs, and finally, his perfectly sculpted v line. “Are you sure? You don’t have to, I’ll be perfectly fine by just giving...” You interrupted his mumbling by attaching your lips to his, hoping it would be his answer.

With the rest of his clothes discarded, you couldn’t help but admire his body. He was perfect. Sculpted by the gods, even. After wetting your hands, you took his cock, pumping a few times before attaching your lips to it. You twirled your tongue, tasting his precum, feeling him grow harder and harder on your hands. “Holy shit, you feel so good, y/n!” His words of encouragement were enough for you to start moving your head up and down, taking his member into your mouth inch by inch, until he was bucking his hips. “Fuck! You’re bloody amazing, darling!” He praised, while making direct eye contact with you, “But if you want more, you better stop before I coat your throat with my cum.” You had to admit, his dirty talk was doing something to you.

Releasing his cock with a loud pop, you climbed on top of him, kissing his lips. “Do you have a condom?” He asked between kisses. “Bedside table, first draw.” You answered and after a loud smack on your ass, you got off of him, both of you wearing playful smiles on your faces. Tom opened the foil package and rolled the material into his member, positioning himself at your entrance. “You sure you wanna do this?” He asked, making sure you wanted this as much as he did. “Yes, Tom! I want you to fuck me!” You said, kissing his lips.

With both of his hands on your hips and a huge smirk on his face, he pushed himself into you, making you moan. It took you a few seconds to get used to him and once you nodded, Tom started to move, bringing another level of pleasure to your body. “Fuck! You’re so tight around me, y/n!” He whispered, biting your earlobe. “Tom, fuck me harder!” You pleaded, wanting nothing more than to be railed by him. That seemed to take Tom by surprise but he was quick to obey your wish, thrusting harder and harder into your soaking wet core. “You look so beautiful like that, all sweaty, begging me for more!” He kept praising you, feeling how much you liked when he did.

With both of his arms by your head, he caged you, tattooing your face with kisses. “Feel so good, Tom! Please, make me cum!” You mumbled, by now barely able to form sentences. Tom was quick to obey and once his fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles in it, you were gone. Toes curling, you arched your back, getting a handful of the mattress in one hand while the other scratched Tom’s back. “Fuck, y/n!” With a final thrust of his hips, Tom reached his high, moaning your name like it was the most beautiful prayer.

He collapsed on top of you, leaving a long kiss on your lips, before getting up and tossing the condom on the trash. You went to the bathroom to clean yourself up, seeing as you were too tired to take a shower, and asked him if he wanted that too. He agreed and once you were decent enough, you put on clean panties and his discarded shirt, asking him to join you on the bed. Of course, he accepted, he wasn’t planning to go anywhere either so, after putting his boxers back on, he climbed on the bed with you.

You quickly doze off but right before you did, you admitted to yourself that, like most of the time, Briana was right, and going to that new club wasn’t a bad idea after all.

tagging: @stuckonspidey @bi-writes @duskholland @screamholland @missnxthingg @tomhollandthing @wazzupmrstark @peeterparkr @veryholland @spideyspeaches-deactivated20221 @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @rebekkah4766 @hopelessromm @pensivepeter @geminiparkers @mrs-hollandstan @hollandcreep @uglypastels

#my writing #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #bartender!tom #bartender!tom x reader #tom holland writing

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blazingparker · 3 years ago

Text

What’s Up, Danger?

**so this is the fic that the lovely @snowstark allowed me to run by them to make sure it made sense to other people and not just my own brain. i really, really hope you enjoy it!

read it on ao3!

Summary: When Peter Parker gets bitten by a radioactive spider in his college’s lab, he doesn’t expect anything that comes next. Not becoming Spider-Man, not being hunted down by the Avengers, and definitely not a secret friendship with Tony Stark.

“So, let me get this straight. You want us to hunt down the one superhero in New York City that’s not mooching off my bank account, force him to tell us who he is, and then try and get him to join the team?” Tony could not believe what he was hearing. He sat back in his seat at the head of the table and stared straight ahead at Nick Fury.

“We don’t know that he’s a superhero,” Fury drawled, relaxing in his chair at the other end of the table. “He could be more evil than we know.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the guy plucking kittens out of trees and helping lost old Dominican ladies with directions is a supervillain in the making,” Tony deadpanned, clearly not impressed.

“Tony, orders are orders.” God, Steve was infuriating.

“Tell me, do you ever question anything or are you a walking lapdog?” Tony and Steve glared at each other until Natasha cleared her throat, breaking the tension in the room.

“Look, we’ll bring him in.” At Tony’s look of indignance, she raised a hand. “There’s no reason to go out there guns blazing, though. He hasn’t done anything to warrant that. If we show up looking ready to fight, he’ll avoid us. We will handle this professionally. With tact.” On the last word she stared pointedly at Tony, who pretended not to notice.

“So long as this ends with us knowing who’s behind the mask, I don’t care how you get it done,” Fury said as he stood. “I’ll let Pierce know you’re on board. That should get the prick off my back for a while.” With that, he left the room to the six Avengers sitting around the table.

“What is it with you and going along with whatever SHIELD wants?” Tony barked out, and Steve crossed his arms.

“SHIELD knows what’s best to keep this world safe. We should trust them to give us missions that are important and best left unquestioned.”

“Yeah, I don’t think telling us to beat up the guy who saved the owner of that deli that got blown up last week qualifies.” Tony huffed out an irritated sigh.

“Look, let’s just try and approach him one-on-one,” Natasha suggested. “That way no one feels threatened. Maybe one of us can form a relationship with the guy, get him to trust us.” When no one voiced an objection, she continued. “Tony, you can go first since you’re so protective of the guy.”

“Protective?! I am not-” Natasha left the room before Tony could finish.

---

The first thing Tony noticed when observing Spider-Man was that the guy had absolutely no self-preservation instincts. He literally flung himself off the top of a building, whooping and hollering all the way down until he almost made a little spider puddle on the ground before finally shooting out a web and swinging away. The guy ran into a burning building without a second thought and came back out with a kid in his arms.

That last incident was how Tony finally had the chance to speak with him. By tracking him with JARVIS, he saw that Spider-Man had stopped at a local playground. It looked like he was taking a breather, and was even more likely given the guy had just inhaled massive amounts of smoke. He suited up and flew over to the spot, clearly catching Spider-Man by surprise.

“Hey there, Spider-Man. Or should I call you Danger-Man, since you seem to have a knack for running right towards it?” Tony landed a respectable distance from where Spider-Man was perched on top of the jungle gym.

“What can I do for you?” Okay, so Spider-Man was young. His voice told Tony that much.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. Nick Fury sent me. Us. The Avengers. But it’s just me for now.” Already, Spider-Man had visibly tensed. If Tony could see his eyes behind those pathetic goggles, he’d bet good money that they had narrowed considerably.

“What do you want.” Spider-Man said, his tone conveying it was a demand that Tony tell him now, not a question anymore.

“We want to know who you are. What makes you tick. What made you put on that god awful excuse for a suit and run into a burning building today.”

“Not all of us are billionaires, Stark. Some of us have to work with what we’ve got, and I haven’t really got much.” Tony’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile at that and he huffed out a laugh. Spider-Man’s quips were infamous, and now he could see why. The guy was good.

“Look,” Tony allowed his faceplate to flip up. Maybe that would help relax the agitated vigilante in front of him. Being able to look at his eyes had to be better than a titanium-alloy mask. “For the record, I was against this plan. I told Mr. Eyepatch up there that we should leave you alone.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Spider-Man sounded a little surprised at that admission.

“I got outvoted. The Avengers are a democracy, apparently. Cap’s a real bitch about it. I preferred the authoritarian model.” Tony sniffed, glancing away before looking back at Spider-Man when he chuckled quietly.

“Good to know you really are the big happy family that they show on the news,” Spider-Man shot back. Tony couldn’t help a real grin from forming that time.

“Oh yeah, big time. Ever seen Annie? It’s like that. Except Annie is actually the entire team and I’m Daddy Warbucks for all of them.” After a moment of shared laughter, things grew quiet again. Tony took a step forward, counting it as a win when Spider-Man didn’t scramble to get away.

“I’ll leave you alone from now on, since that’s clearly what you want. On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Spider-Man sounded wary but intrigued.

“Gimme your number.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Just because I’m gonna leave you alone doesn’t mean the others will. If they pull some stupid shit while trying to convince you to tell them who you are, I wanna know. Give me your number.”

“How would I call you if you have my number?”

“I’ll call you first.” Tony was surprised to find he actually truly did mean it. Spider-Man just stared at him for a second before rattling off a phone number and disappearing into the night.

This definitely wasn’t ideal. Tony knew that. But at least this way he had a way of knowing if the team went too far in their attempts to complete the mission.

Grinning, Tony plugged the number into his phone before hesitating over the space left for the contact’s name. He didn’t know Spider-Man’s identity, and definitely couldn’t plug in Spider-Man in case anyone ever saw. Remembering his very first quip to the vigilante, his thumbs flew over the screen.

Danger.

---

Over the course of the next few weeks, Tony and Spider-Man struck up a routine. After each encounter with the Avengers, Spider-Man would give him a call and let him know how it went down. Luckily, things hadn’t gotten violent yet.

Tony was also finding himself...attached. To this masked vigilante from Queens. Something that made absolutely no sense and was probably going to end in disaster for them both. This guy clearly wanted nothing to do with the Avengers - no matter how friendly the two of them had become.

A ringtone disrupted Tony from his thoughts and he grabbed his phone, smiling a little when he read the screen.

Incoming call from: Danger

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked as he answered, pushing back from the lab table he was stationed at and walking to the window.

“Are you ever not going to answer the phone that way?” An exasperated voice came from the other end of the line. Tony grinned. He’d taken to always answering with the same “what’s up, danger?” First, it had been because he didn’t want anyone to walk in and hear him greeting Spider-Man. But slowly, it was becoming an inside joke with the two of them.

“Not a chance. But c’mon, gimme the rundown,” Tony said, gazing out over the New York City skyline as though he might see Spider-Man if he looked hard enough.

“Cap and Widow came this time. Gave me the same rundown, telling me they were running out of options and didn’t want to have to resort to other measures,” Spider-Man informed him. His voice dipped lower on the last few words in an imitation of Steve’s voice. Tony’s blood ran cold at that, and he quickly sat down on the nearest chair.

Why was he so afraid for Spider-Man all of a sudden? They were just pals. The guy was a vigilante that clearly had enhanced strength and other powers and could take care of himself.

“What the hell does that mean?” Tony asked, clenching his jaw.

“I didn’t exactly stick around to find out,” Spider-Man said with a laugh. “You could ask him though.”

“And risk him finding out exactly how I knew of this threat? Not a chance. Then things would just get worse,” Tony explained with a sigh.

“You really don’t need to be so worried. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not worried.” The words came out just a little bit too fast, and Spider-Man chuckled.

“Sure, Tones.” The nickname sent..something through Tony. Not affection. It was not affection. Nothing like that. “Anyway, I gotta hang up. Got readings to get done.”

“So you’re in college!” Tony cried triumphantly, waving a hand in the air to try and tell JARVIS to add that to the file he had on Spider-Man. When there was silence on the other end of the line, he sobered up a bit. “I’m not gonna look into it. Promise.”

Another beat of silence.

“Alright. Talk to you later, Tony.”

---

The next time Tony’s phone rang, he was eating dinner with Natasha and Rhodey after being dragged out of his lab. When he saw Danger flash across the screen, he quickly excused himself and walked out of hearing range.

“What’s up, Danger?”

“Would you tell Hawkeye over there to quit it with the arrow-fest?” Tony’s eyebrows just about disappeared into his hairline and he clutched the phone a little tighter. He could hear Spider-Man’s breath coming fast, like he’d just finished swinging. He probably had.

“The what?” He asked, voice edging on a growl.

“He and Thor showed up, tried to ask me again. When I made it clear I wasn’t interested in joining the Brady Bunch and tried to leave, he took a shot at me. Without my danger sense, I definitely would’ve been hit.” Another interesting fact about Spider-Man, but Tony couldn’t pay attention to that now.

“He-fuck, I’m so sorry. That was never-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Tony ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“It’s fine, Tony. You didn’t take the shot at me,” Spider-Man insisted. “I can handle a few pissed-off Avengers. Really.” After a moment of Tony trying to come up with a response, the vigilante spoke again with a softer voice. “Tony, I’m okay. It’s not your fault. I’m not hurt, I’m safe at home.”

Somehow, the knot that had been growing in Tony’s chest eased at hearing Spider-Man was safe at home. He nodded before realizing he was on the phone and that response wouldn’t really work. “Alright, as long as you’re safe.” Where the hell did that come from? “I-I hate to cut this short but I walked out on Rhodey and Nat and-”

“-and if you’re gone too long, the jig is up. No worries, I get it. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Tony couldn’t stop a smile at the understanding in the man’s voice.

“Talk tomorrow.”

---

After that phone call, Spider-Man’s run-ins with the Avengers got increasingly volatile. While Clint had admitted to losing his cool when he shot the arrow and acknowledged it had been a mistake, they’d lost whatever trust they’d built up with Spider-Man.

Well, the others had. Not Tony.

Each encounter had more biting remarks than the last, and their duration was getting shorter and shorter. The Avengers had even tried catching up to him multiple times in one night. All that resulted in was an exhausted, irritated Spider-Man - Tony could hear it in his voice when they spoke on the phone.

Tony was working on a new suit in the lab when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was nearly two in the morning. His crooked heart started beating a little faster at that - only one person would call him so late.

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked cheerfully as he picked up the phone. The cheer dissipated immediately when he didn’t get a response. All he could hear was labored breathing and a groan of pain. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Hey, Tony,” Spider-Man answered, words slurring together. Tony immediately moved to his closest functional suit, letting JARVIS transfer the call over as he got into it.

“What happened?” Tony tried his best to keep the panic from edging into his voice. The faceplate closed and he could see JARVIS running a tracking program, trying to find out where Spider-Man had last been seen.

“No big deal. ‘S just a guy. He had a big knife. Huge. ‘S not safe for the neighborhood,” Spider-Man answered. Tony felt a chill run through him - Spider-Man had been stabbed ? His danger sense never allowed anyone to land a blow.

“Apparently not so safe for neighborhood Spider-Men either,” he quipped with a shaky voice. “Are you doing okay? Have something to stop the bleeding?”

“Does pavement count?” Even in an injured state, the guy was still churning out one-liners like it was nothing.

“I have located Spider-Man, sir,” JARVIS piped up. “Plotting the fastest course.” Tony whirled around, blasting the nearest window and watching it shatter before shooting out of it at top speed.

“Why didn’t you dodge it?” Tony asked, desperate to keep Spider-Man talking to him until he could get there.

“Danger sense isn’t workin’.” Spider-Man’s voice was significantly quieter at that, like he was ashamed.

“Faster, JARVIS! Why not?” Tony barked the command at his AI but softened his voice for the injured vigilante.

“Tired.” The one-word answer was enough. Even if the Avengers hadn’t struck Spider-Man directly since the incident with Clint, they’d caused this. Their persistence had worn down a decent man to the point where he couldn’t defend himself against the common criminals of Queens. That wasn’t what they were supposed to be about, and Tony felt disgusted just thinking about it.

Luckily, he didn’t have to for much longer. The suit began to descend towards a rooftop in a sketchier area of Queens, and Tony spotted the red and blue jumpsuit the guy insisted on wearing. The faceplate flipped up as he landed and knelt next to the form lying on the ground.

“What’s up, Danger?” Tony asked, trying to tease as he gently pushed away the blood-soaked fabric to get a look at the wound.

“Oh my god, this again? Just leave me to die.” Spider-Man groaned, but didn’t push Tony away. The older man laughed, shaking his head. He then pointed his index and middle fingers at the wound, allowing a healing gel to spray out of the suit and onto the injury. It was a new creation of Tony’s - it would stop the bleeding and keep the wound stable until they reached a medbay and could get real medical attention.

“There we go, Spider-Man. We do need to get you properly fixed up, though. This is a temporary solution.” Tony said, leaning over the man still lying there limply. Slowly, Spider-Man brought a hand up to his head. Tony thought he was feeling for blood, and watched in shock as the hand gripped the hood of his mask and tugged it off.

Of course he’s hot, was the first thing that went through Tony’s mind. Floppy brown hair, soft pink lips, and those big eyes that reminded him of a certain deer from an animated Disney movie. Spider-Man shifted slightly, trying to sit up with a quiet groan, and Tony rushed to support him and help hold him up. Spider-Man looked up at him and gave him a crooked grin.

“It’s Peter,” he said. His name. Tony smiled brightly in return.

“What’s up, Peter?”

#blazingparker writes #starker #starker fic #peter parker x tony stark

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