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goldenzingy46butwriteblr · 3 years

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Relatively Decent Tips About Tagging On AO3

By a relatively unknown fanfic author...

1. In the relationships section, tag only the relationships relevant to the plot. Nobody wants to read a 300k Tomarry story if they were looking for Romione you tagged because it’s a minor relationship.

2. If you do want to tag your minor and/or past relationships, you can do this in the ‘Additional Tags’ section. You might’ve noticed that should you add ‘minor’ or ‘past’ in front of a relationship tag, AO3 will mark it as ‘freeform’. This is because the area for ‘minor’ or ‘past’ relationships is in the ‘Additional Tags’ section.

3. Don’t tag every character to appear in the entire fic. Please. All you’re doing is creating a wall of tags it takes ages to scroll past and nobody cares enough to read. Tag only the characters that you’d use the character tag filter to find the fic for. If in doubt, there is a ‘Minor Character(s)’ tag.

4. For that matter, don’t create walls of tags. Not every single thing that happens in the story is needed in the tagging. Tag ‘fluff’, ‘angst’, ‘crack’, etc., tag the triggers or the squicks, tag the minor relationships, then tag things that are important enough to be searched for. Your tags are a non-spoiling summary, not a plot. Personally, I’m unlikely to read a story with more than twenty ‘Additional Tags’.

5. This is not Wattpad, please put spaces in between your words. It makes my eyes bleed to read ThisCharacterIsAnIdiotILoveHimSoMuch. Please. Just add spaces, it won’t kill you.

6. Don’t be afraid to add personal tags! It gives the readers a taste of what you, the author, is like, and what the story could be like, too. Be careful not to add too many, or it becomes a tag wall. A tasteful joke or commentary is always welcome, though!

7. Don’t try and tag every single variant of that one tag. The chances are that AO3 merges the tags together anyway.

8. Ratings are important. General Audiences is what you would read to children twelve and under, or in film terms, a U. Teen And Up is what I’d call PG, Mature as a 15, and Explicit as 18. More simply: if you wouldn’t read your kissing scene to a nine year old and then look their parents in the eye, it’s not G. Any graphic sex scenes would go under E.

9. Don’t tag as a crossover if you’re writing a fusion. I cannot express my frustration at trying to find a crossover and actually getting what should be tagged as ‘Alternate Universe - [Fandom] Fusion’. If it’s a Hogwarts AU, but uses none of the characters from the Harry Potter ‘verse, tag it as a fusion, not a crossover. If it’s a Hunger Games AU, but uses none of the characters from the Hunger Games ‘verse, tag it as a fusion, not a crossover.

10. Your categories are best left to the relationship tags. For example, a M/M story would have a M/M ship in the relationship tags, not a minor relationship that goes in the ‘Additional Tags’ section.

11. Do not tag the ship name as a fandom. There is a relationship tag section for a reason. ‘Drarry’ is not a fandom, ‘Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling’ is.

12. ‘No Archive Warnings Apply’ and ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ are NOT the same and should NOT be used interchangeably. If you don’t know how to use the warning system and aren’t sure if your fic classifies under one of the warnings, use ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’, not ‘No Archive Warnings Apply’. Without warnings, readers are told that they are going in blind, with no idea of what’s ahead - like being told ‘read at your own risk’. When told that no warnings apply, readers are told that the fic is perfectly safe for them. If this is not the case, they will be mad.

13. Don’t even bother adding more than one oneshot, drabble, or short fic in a single work. It will become a tag dump, it will have relationship tags or character tags that aren’t used for the entire thing, and I guarantee you that people will complain about it. If you’re that desperate to keep them all together, make a series. I can’t stop you from doing this, but I can damn well tell you not to, and I can ask that you at least tag with ‘drabble collection’, ‘fic collection’, or ‘oneshot collection’ so I can filter it out.

14. If there’s a character that you want to keep secret, use the ‘Undisclosed Character(s)’ tag. At least then the readers know, right?

15. Tag ‘Original Character(s)’ rather than their character name. The readers won’t be filtering in/out the character’s name, as they don’t know the character’s name.

16. Tag for reader- or self-inserts. People will be pissed if you don’t.

17. Use ‘&’ for platonic pairings and ‘/’ for romantic pairings. People know this system and how it works, using ‘/’ for platonic pairings will attract the wrong kind of reader, likewise with ‘&’ for romantic pairings. They also probably won’t finish reading once they realise.

18. Only tag for platonic relationships if they are the focus of the fic. Tagging them just because there is a frienship/sibling dynamic within the fic is ridiculous, because people are aware who are friends and who are siblings. Unless the relationship is significant to the story, ditch the tag. There are also additional tags for this sort of thing.

19. Yes, you need to tag for sex scenes, no, these are not the only tags you should have on your fic that is more than just a sex scene. I enjoy a nice sex scene just as much as the next, but if you mark it as explicit, tag for sex, tag the main points of the sex scene, then move on. You do not need to tag every tiny detail. Unless it is of major importance to the scene or fic, don’t bother. Large amounts of sex tags can turn people away from the fic. Your tags are a summary and a warning, not the plot.

20. “But how can I be sure I’m using the right tags, Trixie?” Tag your major tropes, tag the fic’s genre (ie: angst, crack, horror), tag your AU, tag the triggers/squicks, and add those selling point tags. Boom. Done. If there are similar fics out there, check their tags and see if yours look alike. You could even steal some of them.

This is my guide; it might not work for everyone. My thoughts are my own, and you are welcome to disagree or ignore me completely, but hey! I tried.

#ao3 tagging #advice #ao3 #archive of our own

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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I know I sent in a request like this week but I saw your post about you being sick so if you want something to do I’ve always had a headcanon that Mando would take his helmet off in front of the kid so what about he’s playing with the kid while you’re supposed to be off the crest but you come back early and see him and he gets all angst but then he’s like I wanted to marry you before anyway this just gives me a reason

Also I really hope you get better soon I hate being sick so if there’s anything I can do to lighten your day let me know!!!

Children with Din Djarin

DAY SIX: Children with Din Djarin [requested by @cobb--vanth but thankyou @100layersofdaddyissues for submitting this specific request weeks ago! I'm sorry it took so long to complete but I figured it was the perfect time to combine both the prompt and the request. I hope this is okay/what you imagined!]

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos

December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina

December Writing Challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Word count: 1.8k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mention of recreational drug (spice), pregnancy, mentions of sex but nothing explicit.

The beskar helmet was on the mantle in the hull of the ship when you returned— although you hadn't noticed. You hadn't thought to assume it would be there. You figured it would be on your boyfriend's head. It always was. You had come back from the farmers market about half an hour earlier than expected, with a paper bag filled with sourberries and powdered caf. You placed the paper bag by the door, tapping a few buttons on the Crest's panel and watched it slide shut. You sighed, rolling your shoulders and letting out a tired yawn before padding to the cockpit.

"Grogu," Din called, his unmodulated voice was soft like honey. The helmet had certainly enhanced the gruffness and his rasp, but he didn't sound completely unfamiliar. The little green bean gargled at the calling of his name and Din let out a chuckle. "On three I want you to grab the ball," Din ordered, holding the metal ball between his gloved finger tips. "One… two…." the metal ball shot out of his hand and into Grogu's tiny green claws. "Dank Farrik!" Din gasped, slapping his knee. "Great job kid, but I said on the count of three. It's all about timing, remember-"

The cockpit door slid open and you entered with a sigh. You hadn't told Din why you were really so desperate to visit the farmer's market. "Can't it wait?" he would ask, to which you replied with a simple shake of the head. He wouldn't fight with you. He wouldn't argue with you. If you wanted to visit the market then that would be your next stop. "Maybe spice will help your nausea?" Din suggested, but if your intuition was correct, there'd be no way you'd be taking recreational spice anytime soon. You had told Din you'd just look for some more bacta. It's not what you needed, but it was a good excuse since he was running low on it last time you checked the medbox.

"The market didn't have any bacta pods; we'll have to stop some place on the way to-" you froze, your voice coming to a halt when you saw him. The Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian you had fallen in love with. You met him around eight months ago during one of his bounties on Corellia. He picked you up, assigned you as 'crew' on his ship and not only did he save your life— he changed your life. He gave you hope and meaning and purpose. Your feelings weren't one sided.

Din was enamoured with you. It started with the way you were with the child, so gentle and caring. It was the way you tended to his injuries when he came back after a bounty. "Sweet girl," he'd mutter, his mind in a euphoric haze from all the bacta as you bandaged him up. "So soft. So pretty."

You pushed away the comments. Focusing on them would do you no good. You knew enough about his creed to know that any romantic interaction between you would render pointless. Besides, he was a bounty hunter. He was too busy. He wouldn't want to settle down. Or so you thought.

He was going to ask. He had to ask. Your relationship with Din had got physical in the last few months. It started with gentle touches, the slight grazing of bare skin. When he held you, you felt safe—protected—untouchable. In his strong arms, it was like nobody could get you. Nobody would tear you away. Din would often find ways to satisfy himself, or at least visit a brothel in the depths of the inner-rim that would keep him going for a few days tops.

He swore with you it could just be a one time thing. With Din, that's all sex was meant to be. One time. No strings attached. Easy. But it wasn't. Din could shut out his feelings as much as he wanted but in that moment when the lights went out and he removed his helmet, placing gentle kisses in between your thighs and towards your core, there was no denying the emotion and the chemistry.

So it wasn't just a one time thing. It became a regular occurrence. And you loved it as much as he did. But now, look where you were.

He had brown locks of hair, dark brown and wavy, curling at the nape of his neck. The curve in his nose looked as though it had been crafted by the Maker himself, it was so perfect. His skin was tan, and the golden bronze rendered you somewhat speechless as you wondered where he had found the time to remove his helmet and catch a little sun. It must've been natural. He was beautiful. You recognised his stubble. When you saw it, you could place it with the memory of feeling it when he nestled between your legs. You pursed your lips into a fine line at the memory.

Din was frozen too. He didn't even blink, instead, staring at the child as if Grogu would give him the answer he so desperately required. This was it. No living thing (besides Grogu), had seen Din without his helmet since he had sworn to the creed when he was just a young boy. He wanted you to see him— he really did. So much so he had considered marriage, and the ring crafted from solid beskar felt like the heaviest weight in his pocket right now— as you stood in the door frame with your lips perfectly parted. He was just waiting for the perfect time. But now, all that had been taken away from him and he only had himself to blame.

You whispered his name timidly, tears pricking your eyes. "I'm sorry." you said quietly and waited a few moments for a response. But nothing. Just the sounds of your hitched breathing and the child's confused babbling echoed through the cockpit. You sniffed, walking back into the hull of the ship and picking up his helmet. You closed your eyes out of politeness and handed Din his helmet. He took it from you and placed it on his lap, his finger tracing the curves and edges. He realised you were still standing there with your eyes closed. You were waiting for him to put on his mask so you could open your eyes.

A million thoughts raced in your mind. Was this going to be it? What if he was going to kick you off his ship? Or even worse, would he kill you? Would The Mandalorian have you terminated? No… surely not, you knew your Mando… but the silence in the room was deafening. You were half expecting him to quick draw his blaster and shoot you in the heart, get the job over and done with.

But Din done no such thing. He placed his helmet on the chair next to Grogu and took the beskar ring out of his pocket, polishing it slightly with the leather of his mustard gloves. He threw his gloves aimlessly to one side and dropped down to one knee.

"I've taken my helmet off," he lied through his teeth. You did consider his voice sounded strangely unmodulated, but you didn't think too much of it. After all, surely Din wasn't going to be dishonest about such a thing.

You opened your eyes, gasping when you were greeted with Din down on one knee holding the most beautiful ring up. "Cyare, will you marry me?" he asked.

You were too taken aback by his face than the ring. Beautiful. A glint in his dark eyes, the way his pink lips curled into a positive smile. He was perfect. How could someone as rugged and experienced as the Mandalorian look so damn beautiful under all that beskar?

"Din…" your voice was barely audible as a lonely tear fell down your cheek. "If this is because I saw you without your helmet…"

"No sweet girl," he told you, nervously biting his lip. "I've been carrying this ring around for months just waiting for the right moment. I've wanted this for a long time." he revealed, causing your heart to flutter.

"Are you sure?" you croaked, smiling and finally diverting your eyes to the gorgeous silver ring.

"I've never been so certain about anything in my life," Din replied quickly. "Cyare, please, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Yes!" you cried, tears falling down your cheeks as he slid the ring onto your finger. You wrapped your arms around The Mandalorian and he held you tight, picking you up and spinning you around.

"I love you so much," He mumbled in your ear, biting down on your love gently as you brought your hands to cup his cheeks. "Is it what you imagined?" he asked, gesturing towards his face as you took in every single detail. Every freckle and scar.

"So much better." you told him, noticing a small pink blush crawl over his cheeks. "Din." your tone was like velvet as it interrupted the adoring silence.

"Mm?" Din mumbled, his hands falling to your waist. You pulled off him slightly so you could look at him in the eyes.

"I don't need bacta for my nausea," you revealed nervously. "And I can't take spice because… well, I think. I'm pregnant."

Din blinked, staring at you. "Wh- pregnant?"

"I was so scared to say anything but I have a gut feeling… I can't describe. It's just like… I know. I can feel it." you told him. Din was speechless.

Grogu shimmied out of the copilot chair and reached up to your stomach, closing his eyes and reaching out. "What's he doing?" Din asked eventually as Grogu hummed a deep breath. You felt it. You closed your eyes and knelt to the child's level so he could place his claw on your lower tummy.

"He feels it too," you whispered. "It's true. I am pregnant." you confirmed and Din's lips curved into an ecstatic smile.

"This is a happy day," Din said, picking up the child and cradling him in one arm while he wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. "The happiest day of my life."

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the Mandalorian #the Mandalorian x reader

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romiantic · 3 years

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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒕𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝒙 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓!𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌!𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ࿐ྂ

彡 ❛ 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 ❜

彡 𝗳𝘁. ryota kise

彡 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff with very little angst

彡 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

彡 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: suggestive theme at the end

彡 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: all characters are 18+. also can we talk about how BOMB this song is 🤧 y’all sleepin on this song fr

·˚ ༘ੈ✩‧₊˚ ╰┈➤ ❛❛ 𝙄 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘿𝙊 𝙄𝙏 ❜❜

❝ 𝐘/𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐘𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐔𝐏! You have two minutes till showtime.” Your manager, AKA, older brother, barged and announced to you like he didn’t update you almost five minutes ago.

You did your usual of sucking your teeth and rolling your teeth every time he barged in and interrupted your call, you replied with annoyance in your tone, “AJ I know! Can you wait a minute? Damn, so impatient for absolutely no reason.”

“I’m sorry who’s the one with hundreds of thousands of fans screaming their name and waiting for their ass outside? Me or you? Oh okay. Anyways, end yo little call with yo boyfr-”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You interrupted, becoming irritated with your brother and simply wanted him to shut the fuck up. A great manager and brother, yet way too uptight for his job.

AJ rolled his eyes and muttered something but you flipped him off and pretended not to hear him until he left your dressing room. You gave your attention back to your phone, giving a cheeky smile to the blonde boy on your screen. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a nervous look growing on you but from what you could tell, he was choosing what shirt to wear to his photoshoot. Leaving him to be seen with a no top on and a pair of denim jeans.

Though it was typical to see your best friend’s exposed upper body, it was a sight you never got used to. His well-toned body, results from years of playing basketball in middle and high school, making your face hot, adding on to the nervousness you were already facing from your upcoming performance. Along with the pearly white smile he flashed at you creating a sick feeling in your stomach, something that you made you clench onto it and try to ignore. Now was not the time to be drooling over your best friend, who interrupted your stare with a laugh and said, “Are you gonna keep staring or are you gonna take a picture?”

Of course, he’d ruin it with some cocky line like that, you rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth. “Boy calm down, ain’t nobody wanna was staring.”

“Your nervous face said otherwise.”

“Akekeke, don’t you have a photoshoot to go to?”

Kise replied with the same energy as yours, “And don’t you have a performance to go to?”

You held up a finger to a screen then crossed your arms, “Aht aht, don’t worry about me now. Worry about yo lil pictures with that famous ass Russian model.” You wanted to roll your eyes just thinking about the brought-up woman but it would make it seem like you’re being jealous for no reason.

Kise let out a small laugh, adoring the irritated look that was starting to creep up on your face. “Somebody sounds jealous.”

You rolled your eyes and let out a scoff, “Oh please, like I would be.” You looked at the time on your watch and noticed it was about one minute until your performance. Your eyes widened at the time and hurried, you quickly ended the call with Kise, “Shit, fuck! I gotta go perform but I’ll call you back when I’m done.”

“And I’ll be waiting for you beautiful when you get back.” The golden-eyed boy winked at you yet you cringed and scrunched your face. “You’re so fucking corny Kise.” You hung up the call, grab any other pieces missing from your outfit, and headed out of your dressing room.

You traveled quickly around backstage, passing by many coworkers and background dancers waiting for you, to head into the small tunnel for artists to come out on stage. You stopped at the exit and gulped as you scanned the stage. An outside arena with hundreds of thousands of fans cheering your name, waiting for your appearance.

Usually, you would be at ease with concerts this large but for some reason this time is different. Unknowing the reason nor cause, you started to feel anxious, your hands mildly shaking and your throat going dry.

There was something in the back of your mind attempting to not make you perform, something telling you to not do it, it won’t be good, people will hate you. A voice there to influence thoughts, hoping that you would fall into the trap and just give up on singing. Though of course, you wouldn’t listen to that voice, that voice always lingered around whenever you were brought to perform, no matter where you were.

The only thing to distract you and keep you safe from that tiny voice is someone who you’ve longed to love. One who just settles your nerves, bringing comfort, and removing all anxious thoughts. One who would deem you as one of the greatest artists he’s ever listened to, maybe it’s opinionated but he loves you too much to disagree.

The now dawdling thought of his soft voice whenever he spoke or his flirtatious nature when you two joked around made a familiar feeling grow greater than before. Something replaced the anxiousness that was growing, a feeling that replaced the nervousness and calmed your shaky hands. Something that was the thought of Ryota Kise, he was like the medicine to all the pain you’ve suffered. A remedy to your anxiety, one of the many causes of the cheeky smile social media often sees you with.

Someone who you grew up and spent all your life with, always noticing how protective he was of you or the way he hummed one of your pre-recorded tracks that he was the only one to listen to. Celebrating one of your songs had hit #1 on the Billboard chart and the way he helped out whenever you hit writer’s block.

Every single thing, noticeable or not, made you grown to love the boy, starting from a platonic, playground friendship blooming to many years of trying to figure out if you are romantically in love with him. Growing familiar feelings of butterflies mixed with the thought of just wanting to cup his face and kiss him whenever he was around.

Just the ultimate feeling of wanting to be buried in the blonde boy’s arms and explain the blooming love for him made you want to sing the song you wrote for him. A new single that you never wanted to put out since you wanted only Kise to hear it, including that the song was your way of telling him what you felt all these years.

Though something changed your mind, something in your brain told you to tell everyone around you that you’re singing solo, no backup singers or dancers, only you on that stage. In this performance, you just had to do it yourself, nothing but you, the stage, and the microphone.

Everyone was confused by the last-minute change of plans but went along with it. They rescheduled it to where your first “official” song to start the concert with was right after your solo performance. You gave thanks to your team and took some deep breaths. You made sure your Bluetooth set was on and working properly in your ear, AJ handed you a mic and brushed off any wrinkling from your outfit and any smoothed out your hair. Uptight about his job yet made sure his little sister was looking the greatest for her performances.

You took deep breaths again, shook off any bad nerves, and walked on stage. The already excited crowd enraged and their volume expanded as they saw you stand before them. Everyone waving their signs that said, “I love you y/n!!” or “Y/N is so beautiful!” You waved to the audience and stopped at the middle of the stage, walking closer to the front of the stage as well.

You turned on the mic and tapped it to see if it was working, “Mic check one two, can you guys hear me?” The crowd immediately responded yes, you continued on to talk to them, “Okay good, have been getting technical difficulties with my mic and I really don’t feel like switching mics three times. Anyways, afternoon to all my lovely fans who made it out here or to those that are watching me live. I love you all and thank you for supporting me, I truly am grateful for every single one of y’all.” Everyone screamed out how much they love you and adore you, showing off their merch that they bought and waving the homemade posters.

You smiled at their response and cleared your throat as you introduced the song, “Thank you, I love you too. This first song is one that has been sitting too comfortably in my heart. A piece that came from genuine emotions and feelings I’ve tried to bury yet couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. It’s something that I never planned on dropping but I just felt like the world had to hear what I had to say. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it cause I did when I was writing this song at two in the morning before I snuck into the studio and recorded it. Was it worth it? Definitely. Now I may introduce to you, Not Another Love Song. A contradicting title isn’t it?”

You took a large breath in and out, you took a position as you waited for the beat to drop. As soon as you heard the familiar melody start, you sang, “I don’t wanna mess this up, could it be too much to say I’m in?”

The crowd lowered down and became silent to hear your new single, grasping the beautiful new lyrics you were singing and just vibing along with it.

You yourself were placing emotion as you sang, not noticing how proudly you sang the chorus or how you were smiling at the crowd the entire time. One thing was clouding your mind to even pay attention to those details, the same thing that more than likely pushed you to sing the song.

As you sang, the feelings for your best friend grew stronger, butterflies in your stomach, and the deprivation of his touch grew on you. Not even realizing how much you missed him until you turned initially to smile at AJ and your team yet saw a familiar face appear as well. You questioned it but then turned back to continue singing to the audience, only thinking that mind is playing games with you.

“I'm finna take my time, my mind, my rules. This ain't no crimе makin' love to you, though you ain't say this. But I had a hard time waitin' for you, boy. Like ooh, boy, you, boy. Got me where you want, just gotta say and it's on, it's like, ooh, boy, do you know you got me like where do you go when you're alone?”

As you sang, you noticed the crowd growing silent, their eyes widening, and their jaws dropping. You were utterly confused at was catching their attention, you turned to your team and your brother pointed behind, giving you a goofy smile as well.

You turned around to what was the cause of this silent commotion and right along with everyone else, your jaw drop and your eyes widened. The flirtatious, handsome model that everyone knew of was standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses in his hand. He walked up to you and smiled greatly, closing in the large gap between the both of you.

Seeing him walk closer to you made you want to say forget concert and sing the rest to him. Half of your feeling was already poured out, not even knowing he was listening to all of it. You didn’t think he would even be here since he had a photoshoot, not standing on an outside stage with a bouquet of roses and dressed in casual attire.

He handed you the roses and kissed your forehead, telling you, “Alone with you, away from the world, where else would I be when I’m alone?”

No response came from you, not even a single gasp or a sniffle to signify that you might cry. The way you responded to his presence was something that shocked the arena, everyone watching you on live, your team, and even the two of you yourself. Who would’ve thought you would be bold enough to grab his face and kiss him right then and there? You snaked your arm around his waist and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. He responded back by wrapping his hands around your shoulders and hugging you tightly, holding onto you to make sure you wouldn’t separate from him.

You pulled back from the kiss and smiled, softly combed his blonde hair, and expressed, “I love you, Kise.” Saying his name like it was something you’ve been aching to say, a name that you’ve buried away yet brought out today. A name that sounded so lovely and romantic when you say it.

Kise expressed as well, “I love you too y/n. I’ve always loved you and I will never stop loving you.” He kissed you again, he removed his hand from your shoulders and trailed around to find your hands. He removed your hands from his waist and instead intertwined them with his.

He felt you smile when he held your hand and smiled back. He stated in between kisses, “You know I’m staying on this stage to hear you finish that song right?”

“It’s fine, I need someone to do my next performance on anyways.” He looked at you and you did nothing but wink and mischievously smiled at him. Kise had a small idea of what he could expect but suppressed it to enjoy the soft moment he wanted between the both of you. A moment that he’ll never forget and a concert that will always be remembered for everyone around you.

彡 it’s like 5 am and I’m tired 🦧 the only thing that kept me up was the fact that I don’t have school plus I loveeeeee kise

彡 also the show olivia

彡 I don’t think I ever mentioned to y’all how much I love his ass but now is definitely not the time 😁

彡 I’m convinced if it silent black hair blue eye powerful men weren’t my type, cocky and flirtatious ones would be runner up

彡 anyways hope you guys enjoy + pleaseee listen to the song, I highly recommend plus ella mai is VERY underrated

bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says

𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟏𝟖:𝟑𝟎 💗

#knb x black reader #knb x black!reader #ryouta kise x black reader #ryouta kise x black!reader #knb fluff #kise fluff #ryouta kise fluff

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talesofesther · 3 years

Text

Anchor - Part 11

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Masterlist with the other parts

See part one for important notes

A/N: Alright, this part is long, so read it with time hahah. Anyway I guess this is one of my favorites?? idk, I think I like how it turned out. However, I reeeeally hope that Five is not too off his character here and that I didn't rush too much!? Like everything that I write, I didn't exactly plan for this part to turn out like this kdjsjkds, but I hope you guys like it and that it fits both the whole series and Five's personality.��Also, I'm a B*tch for Five getting comfort... So yeah. If you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know. ♥

Gravel cracked beneath Five's feet as he exited the car, they parked a little far away from the Consulate just so nobody would notice their arrival. Putting his hands on the pockets of his pants, Five eyed Y/N's form walking in front of him, she was happily chatting with Lila with an adorable smile on her face. His troubled expression softened for a moment, he was still calming down from what happened earlier. Could I really be... Falling for her? The mere thought of it terrified him.

But before Five was able to make himself fully panic again, Diego popped up beside him. "Nice outfit"

"Shush" Five mumbled to him, his mind still partially clouded by his dangerous assumptions.

Diego's eyes slowly followed Five's line of sight, and seeing the subject of his attention, he wondered "You like her, don't you?" His voice wasn't teasing anymore, it was understanding and genuinely curious. He looked down at his brother with an almost caring gaze.

Five scoffed, like that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "That's... No, of course not" but his voice wavered, and he didn't trust his eyes to hold what he had just said.

"Well, if you did... I think there was a big chance that she might like you too" the man patted Five's shoulder and stepped ahead to walk beside Lila, leaving Five behind with a thundering heart and sweaty hands. No. She would never like someone like me. The boy thought to himself, and yet he couldn't help the tiny sparkle of hope that had already been lit inside his lonely heart.

Eventually they finally walked up to the huge mansion of the Mexican Consulate, in which the Gala was being held, the place looked almost intimidating. Its big stone walls and luxurious windows and structure made it look almost like a castle, powerful people were arriving non-stop and there were guards everywhere.

Y/N, Lila, Diego and Five somehow managed to sneak their way in, unnoticed. And if the outside was already extravagant, the inside of the Consulate was breathtaking. A big chandelier graced the ceiling of the entrance, all the decorations and paintings hanging around just screamed richness. There was even a whole mexican band inside the place, and a big table full of snacks and champagne.

"Thank god we dressed appropriately, look at all these people" Y/N said as she slowly made her way inside, looking at the people who were already inside as well, one dressed fancier than the other. The girl mindlessly grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waitresses who were passing by.

Five did the same, if anything just to keep his hands busy. He was twitchy and anxious, both for the fact that he would see his father soon, but also because of what happened with Y/N back at Elliott's place just a couple of minutes ago. Five wondered how the girl was able to remain so calm all the time, while he was there almost losing his mind.

"I don't see dad anywhere" Diego said as everyone stopped to analyze their surroundings.

"Just keep an eye out for the majestic twelve. Y/N and I got the upstairs" Five said while looking around at the many people who were walking about and dancing to the music. His eyebrows were knitted together in concentration, one hand in his pocket and the other holding his glass of champagne.

Finishing her drink, Y/N settled her glass down on the table behind them and followed Five upstairs. Moving her heels from side to side to avoid bumping into the crowd of people.

Five disposed of his glass and walked up the rounded staircase, only giving a side glance behind him to check if Y/N was still following. As they went up, the music from the band started to sound quieter and quieter, until it was just a faint noise and the only sound was from their footsteps. Even the corridors of the mansion were fancy looking, with beautifully drawn wallpapers and some expensive decorations here and there.

Y/N couldn't ignore the twirling of her stomach as she took slow steps behind Five. Regardless of the cheerful aura of the gala, the people here seemed weirdly skeptical, plus they were looking for Five's father again. It all pieced together made Y/N feel very out of place.

"What do you plan to do when you find him?" Y/N asked gently. After whatever it was that happened back at Elliot's with Five, the girl felt a pang of nervousness on her gut when talking to him. Whether it was for how incredibly close they got or because of the immediate change of Five's behavior when Diego came in, she couldn't tell. But it made her very aware of how attached she became to the boy.

Five stopped on his tracks and turned around to look at Y/N, it was hard to ignore the wave of feelings that surged through him whenever he met those eyes, but he did his best to keep his face neutral. "I'm not sure, but I want to know what he's planning"

Just when Five finished talking, he noticed one of the doors ahead of him start to open. In a quick movement, the boy grabbed Y/N's wrist and pulled her inside the room to his left so the people couldn't see them.

Y/N let out a squeak of surprise when Five pulled her body to the side out of nowhere. Next thing she knew there was a hand clasped over her mouth to prevent her from making further noises.

Five covered her mouth as quickly and as gently as he could, but standing so close to her again, he didn't fail to notice how Y/N's whole body became rigid and her eyes widened as he yanked her body, even if she relaxed not even a second after. Slowly removing his hand from her mouth, Five furrowed his brows and felt his breathing getting heavy. Did I scare her? The thought felt like a bullet to the heart. Sure, maybe his movements were a little sudden and violent, but he had to be quick. But she didn't... Didn't think that I would hurt her, right? Five desperately asked himself, but there was no answer, the only thing he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart.

Y/N noticed the door moving, she noticed the people that were about to pass through it and see them. But she wasn't expecting Five to grab her like that, he never does that. And to have him standing millimeters away from her with his hand on her face just the next second, made her whole body tense in nervousness and blood rush to her cheeks. Luckily the room was dark and he wasn't able to notice that last detail. As soon as his soft hand moved away from her, Y/N let out a soft shaky breath and peeked outside to see if the people were gone.

"T- they entered a room. Do you think that was them?" The girl said, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

"Probably" Five muttered without meeting her eyes and already walking back outside.

Stepping ahead to look at the room the people just entered, Five fidgeted with his hands and forced his mind to focus on the matter at hand. With his head hung low, he extended his hand for Y/N to take, even if it was slightly shaking.

The girl looked at Five as if he was a puzzle that was impossible to crack, and he often was. With careful movements, her hand closes around his own, but her face was contorted in confusion. "What is it?"

"Just... Try to keep quiet" came the soft whisper from Five, and the next thing Y/N knew, she was feeling like the atoms on her body were being pulled through space without her consent, making her feel incredibly nauseated. The girl blinked and saw herself inside a dark closet, ahead of her stood the men she saw just a moment ago, they were talking. If it wasn't for Five's hand closed tightly around her own, she feared she would have fallen. Gulping down her words, Y/N just mouthed 'dammit'.

Five was tense, Y/N could feel it in his grip. "The president is continuing to make inquiries into Roswell and the other crash sites, gentlemen. And as you know, we cannot allow him to get his nose into our business. I've confirmed the motorcade will indeed be turning left on Elm Street, we'll have our people in place" said one of the men in the room, he had a suspicious demeanor and was wearing sunglasses.

Both of them were intently listening and watching through the cracks of the closet when another man said "Gentlemen, this plan of yours seems ill-timed" was that..?

Before Y/N could finish her line of thought, she heard Five bumping into one of the hangers and making noise. She turned to look at him with an expression that said 'are you kidding me?!?'

The man that was just talking seemed to have listened to Five as well, he grabbed a metal stick and slowly walked up to the closet they were in. Y/N's eyes widened in fear and she vigorously shook Five's hand urging him to get them out of there. Just as the man was about to stab them, Five teleported them out.

Y/N braced herself on the corridor walls, regaining her breath both from almost being discovered and from the nausea swimming in her stomach. "Was that your-" the girl couldn't complete her sentence because a strong punch to her head sent her to the ground and blurred her vision, making her let out a grunt of pain.

Y/N slowly raised her hand to her head and where the pain was, feeling something wet there. Still on the ground, she turned around and blinked several times to try and focus her eyes. She could hear people fighting and see a black figure being slammed into the walls, probably Five.

Making her body work again, Y/N braced her hands on the floor and got up on her wobbly feet. Now that she could see clearly, a big man with white hair and a white blazer was punching Five. The boy was being beaten several times on his abdomen and face, feeling her heart clench at the scene in front of her, Y/N moved as fast as she could towards Five.

With a swift movement, Y/N kicked the man just behind his knee, taking his attention away from Five. When he turned around to beat the girl again, she skillfully ducked and gave him a punch on his throat. That gave her a couple of seconds to grab one of the paintings off the wall and strike his head with it.

But Y/N’s eyes went wide again when even with blood coming out of his temple, the man turned around and grabbed her by the neck. He easily lifted Y/N from the ground and squeezed her neck like it was nothing. The girl was already choking on her own breathing while she punched and kicked him to try and make him let her go, but he was much stronger than her.

If it wasn't for Lila jumping in and kicking the big man in the face, Y/N was almost sure she would be dead, she was already seeing black dots in her vision. The girl fell to the ground with her body being partially limp, clutching at the carpet beneath her as a means to ground herself while she took erratic breaths to fill her lungs again.

Everything happened in less than ten seconds, Five only had the time to get up from the ground himself and see Y/N almost dying in front of his eyes when Lila came in to help. Rushing beside the girl, he helped her up in a sitting position, one of his hands was holding her shoulder as the other came up to her cheek. He could already see the harsh bruises forming around her throat. "Hey, you okay?" Five asked with his voice on edge and filled with concern.

Y/N just nodded at him, clutching the fabric of her dress in her chest as if it would somehow make the air come faster to her lungs. She didn't feel like she could talk just yet, even if she wanted to. Seeing an opportunity when Lila knocked the man down, Five jumped to his feet and threw him out the window. He was finally gone, Y/N closed her eyes and laid her head back against the wall in relief.

Slowly getting up yet again, Y/N looked out the window and saw that all the guests from the gala were leaving, and with them, was who she presumed was Five's father. "Five" Y/N's small voice cracked and she coughed soon after, but she managed to get the boy's attention.

When Five looked out the window to what Y/N was pointing, he only clasped her hand in his again and teleported them outside.

________

After Five managed to shout something in Greek to his father and send Lila away saying he would kill her if he saw her again, which Y/N tried to convince him otherwise but he was pretty insistent on the matter, they were finally back at Elliott's place.

"Is that...?" Diego mumbled as he looked at Luther and Elliot who were passed out on the couch.

Five sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Luther"

Diego scoffed with a small smirk on his face. "Okay, I'm gonna go lay down. I'm tired" he said as he made his way out. But Y/N thought he looked more melancholic than tired.

The girl let out an exhausted breath and ran a hand through her hair, hissing in pain when she accidentally touched the area that the man had punched her in. "Uh what a night" Y/N grumbled. Right now the dress and makeup she was wearing only increased her discomfort, and all she wanted was to take a shower and get rid of those clothes.

Five shot her an apologetic glance, he felt guilty for even letting her get hurt. But he didn't make any moves towards her or said anything, the way she reacted to that earlier was still pretty vivid in his memory.

With slow strides, Y/N made her way to the closest bathroom. Luckily for them, Elliott had two, well one of them was a proper bathroom, the other one was just a tiny excuse for one, but it had a shower. Stopping midway, the girl turned back towards Five. "Who were those guys anyway? Why do they wanna kill us?"

"Commission muscle, we don't belong in this timeline so they sent those guys to take us out. Just another reason to get out of here faster" Five said with a low voice, for once his brows weren't pinched together. His hands were resting on his pockets and his shoulders were slumped, he looked genuinely tired.

Five's big eyes were gazing at Y/N with a different kind of sorrow, he was looking for something. She licked her lips in nervousness and slowly approached him. The silence in the room was far from comfortable. Y/N could hear the sound of her high heels colliding with the floor, she stopped just outside Five's personal space. Gulping down any insecurities, the girl raised her hand and brushed away a single drop of blood that was resting on Five's cheek, she could already see a bruise forming there.

"I'm gonna take a shower, you should too, relax a little. Then you can wait for me in the guest room" Y/N’s voice was gentle and stood just above a whisper. With a little smile, she turned back around and walked the rest of the way towards the small bathroom.

Y/N sighed in relief as she removed her dress and untied her hair. Turning on the shower, the sound of the water colliding with the tiles was almost soothing. The girl took her time to try and relax under the warm water, washing her hair, she could see the red water painting the white floor of the bathroom. Getting out, Y/N felt ten times lighter. She put on her pajamas and made her way to Elliott's spare room.

The room wasn't big, but it felt cozy. Like the rest of the place, the illuminating wasn't the best, but there was a big double bed in the middle. Five was sitting there, waiting, his chest steadily rising and falling as he looked at nothing but thought about everything. The sight of him made Y/N smile, his hair was dripping wet from the shower and he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants that were just a tad too big for him. Probably borrowed from Elliott's closet, Y/N figured.

"Hey, feeling better?" the girl entered the room and made her way to sit beside Five on the comfy bed, their shoulders touching.

"Sure" the boy mumbled to her, his head was low, looking down at his feet.

"What's wrong Five?" Y/N's voice was nothing but a whisper. She could sense there was something bothering him, and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with his father. This was different, he was different.

Five turned his head away from her and looked at the wall beside him, an unamused smile on his face. "It's nothing" his voice was even lower than hers.

The instant burning of tears behind his eyes when Y/N gingerly took his hand on hers was undeniable. But he didn't have the strength to pull his hand away from her, his body wanted her touch way too much. "Diego said something..." Five started, his eyes still looking away, not wanting to recognize his own vulnerability.

The gentle movement of Y/N's thumb at the back of his hand urged him to continue. "I- I think he's right... But I don't know how to deal with-" Five choked on his own words as the first tear made its way down his cheek, and then another, and another.

"Hey, it's okay" Y/N raised her other hand to his face and made him look at her, her touch already brushing away some of his tears. "Whatever it is, I know you'll figure it out. Besides, I'm always here to help if you need it" she smiled kindly at him and couldn't stop herself from planting a sweet kiss on his forehead. Her heart clenching at the sight of him so lost and troubled.

Five felt his heart almost beat out of his chest when Y/N's lips met his skin, a shiver ran through his whole body. His bright eyes fluttering halfway closed in a mix of delight and relief.

Moving her hand down, Y/N saw a dark bruise covering his left cheek, wondering for a moment what other bruises his clothes were hiding. "You're hurt"

Five's eyes fully opened again and landed on the girl's neck. His stomach twisting at the harsh dark spots covering her throat. "You are too"

Y/N's lips formed a half-smile, as she tilted her head to the boy in front of her. Could he just try and care about himself for once? "Not as much as you" something inside Y/N told her that she wasn't talking about the visible bruises anymore. "Let me help"

Five's eyes were tired and glossy, but they regarded Y/N with something akin to both sorrow and want. Five only gives her a gentle nod, surrendering to both his needs and her wishes.

Getting up from her place on the bed with a soft blush on her cheeks, Y/N made her way to the kitchen to grab some ice and anything else that might help.

The boy's eyes stayed glued to the door from the moment Y/N left until she walked back in. The fear of being alone tugged at his stomach once she was gone, and when she came back to him, new tears clouded his sight.

"I found some painkillers" Y/N sat back down with a smile and handed Five a glass of water and some pills. Only at the mention of pain, that Five acknowledged how much the bruises on his abdomen were aching. He quickly gulped down the pills.

"Okay, raise your shirt" the girl said as the blood rushed to her cheeks, she tried to avoid Five's eyes at the moment.

With his breath partially stuck on his throat, Five timidly raised his shirt up to his chest, revealing a bunch of dark purple areas around his stomach and even some cuts here and there.

"Oh Five" Y/N sighed at the sight of his bruised body, it didn't feel right for him to be this hurt, neither outside nor inside. She tended to his wounds at the best of her abilities, she didn't fail to notice that Five would slightly shiver and his breath would hitch whenever her fingers accidentally brushed on his skin. He looked uncharacteristically small right now, with his body covered in injuries and his eyes red and puffy as he looked at Y/N almost seeming like he was asking to be cared for.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Five's quiet voice echoed through the room when Y/N finished her work on him. He carefully put his shirt down, intently looking at her face as he tried not to dwell too much on what had just happened between them. How she once again tore down his walls like they were nothing. For a split second, Five wondered if it would be too selfish to just... Let her, just admit that he wanted all of this. But he soon stopped his own line of thought.

Y/N chuckled to him, her hands cradled in her lap. "My aunt always made sure I was able to defend myself, she taught me the basics of what she knew"

Five only nodded at her, thinking back at how the way she moved was so familiar.

The room fell silent once again, Y/N's eyes drifted down to the clock on the bedside table, then back up at Five's eyes that were fighting to stay open. "It's late, I think you should rest. I'll take the couch"

Five's eyes shot up to look at her as he was already vigorously shaking his head in protest. "No, Luther is passed out on the couch. You can sleep here"

The girl got up from the bed and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "And where are you going to sleep?"

Five's mouth opened and closed in search of words. "I'll just... Lay down in one of the armchairs" the boy shrugged.

"Not in that state, you won't. Won't let you" Y/N sounded almost like she was scolding him.

"Well, I- I won't let you either" Five stuttered with an unsure tone. Sometimes he felt like Y/N could convince him to do almost anything, but he didn't want her sleeping like that.

Y/N looked around the room with a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "Then... I guess we'll have to share it"

Five's eyes went wide and his cheeks became rosy as well at the thought of sleeping beside the girl. He could already feel his hands start to tremble and his heart speeding up the pace from nervousness, but it didn't seem like he had much of a choice.

Turning off the lights, Y/N laid down on the bed beside Five. His tenseness was almost palpable, the boy was laying on the very edge of his side of the bed, his hand gripping the sheets to try to relieve some of his stress. "Relax, I don't bite" Y/N tried to lighten his mood.

But that only caused Five to feel angry at himself for not being able to control his emotions. "I'm not used to this" he whispered back at her without thinking much.

"Not being alone?" Y/N laid on her side, looking at the back of Five's head.

"Yeah... That" the boy sighed, if not being alone was the only thing bothering him, he'd be happy.

"I can leave..."

"Please don't" it was just a quiet plea, but to Y/N, Five's voice made it seem like he was begging for her to never leave.

"Okay, I won't" she whispered back at him with a small smile. Reaching her hand forward, the girl gently ran her fingers through Five's soft hair in a soothing manner. "Goodnight Five"

Five's eyes closed and a pleased noise escaped his mouth at the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp. He was already painfully aware that it would be a nightmare to live even through one mere day without that sweet touch. "Goodnight"

It had probably passed not more than three hours when Y/N was suddenly taken away from her sleep. Her eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the darkness of the room, she could feel Five moving beside her, quiet whimpers coming from him every now and again. That's probably what woke her up.

Turning to his side, with the only light coming from the moon outside, Y/N couldn't see much, but she noticed the deep and troubled frown on Five's face that just shouldn't be there. His breathing was frantic and he was sweating, sometimes his body would involuntarily move like it was trying to run away from something painful.

It didn't take a genius to know that the poor boy was having a nightmare, and a really bad one it seemed. Y/N thought about waking him up, but she knew from experience that it was almost impossible to go back to sleep after something like that happened, and Five needed the sleep.

So she gently took hold of one of his hands that were stretched towards her, careful to not wake him up. And with her other arm, she brought Five close to her by encircling his waist. It was no mystery anymore that he hated to feel alone. "You're okay. I'm here. You're not alone" she whispered quietly in his ear like a mantra until he calmed down and his features were almost fully relaxed again.

Five's body seemed to subconsciously gravitate towards her own once he was sleeping peacefully again. Y/N smiled and gingerly planted a kiss on his nose. She had no idea what he would do once he woke up like this, but she didn't let go of him during the entire night.

***

Thank you for reading ♥ the next part should be out soon. And if you have any idea about how this story should progress or anything you would like to see in it, please send me an ask or message and I’d be happy to include it. All opinions and feedback are appreciated ♥

Taglist

@alexander-hamilhoe @noneyeahbusiness @anapocalypseinmymind @yikes-matey @vicfull @flowertoty @shlokage @flaminghotcheetoos @moneyyhoneyyy @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @nappinggecko @megasimpleplan4ever @peterbeans @greeknerd007 @my-things-things @malfovs @sweetjellytine @soft-slytherin-sweetie @marylimlp @lunna-does-real-doodle @sauberwisch96 @weepingplaidhoundpanda @tired-of-this-shit @moatsnow @yourbloodyqueen

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bellasweetwriting · 4 years

Text

football and foreing films

spencer reid x reader

(not my gif)

masterlist

plot: football is your thing, and since the start of the season you’ve had invited the team to watch the games every Sunday. After being absence a few times due to the reason of not liking sports, Spencer makes his first appearence at your place one night

warnings: football talk, language, kissing, incredibly cute spencer, too much fluff

note: I thought of writing this since it’s the beginning of the football season and I love football so enjoy !!

word count: 4k

Y/N loves football in a way that Spencer couldn't describe as usual for an FBI agent. Screw that, for a person.

As a Kansas City native, your team was obviously the Kansas City Chiefs. And since every member of the BAU had their thing that described him best, you made clear that yours was football.

You would invite the BAU to your small and cosy Virginia apartment to watch the games. Nobody besides JJ liked football as much as you did, and even JJ considered you a die-hard fan because you were. You were a die-hard football fan.

"Hey, Morgan!" You exclaimed opening the door. "Is that beer? 'Gimme!" You yelled, grabbing the cases. If Morgan wasn't fast enough, you would have close the door in his face. "The beer came with Morgan!" You exclaimed, making Hotch and Emily stand up from the couch and grab some. "You could have bought colder ones, though."

"You really get grumpy in football season, Y/N," he mumbled, grabbing one of the cans and jumping into the couch next to Rossi. The elder of the group was sipping from his glass of wine. He was staring at the TV as the fans were filling the stadium. "You don't want a beer, Rossi?"

"No, I don't want beer, Morgan," he replied, making the man laugh. "I don't get why you get all excited by these games, Y/N," he told you as you sat down on the floor, opening the beer and drinking. You were wearing your Chiefs jersey and looking anxiously at the TV.

"Hey, I have to be in your six-hour-long cooking lesson every Friday without having any cooking talent. You can at least hang out with me for three hours on Sunday." Football got you on defensive mode, and you always had to be like that to feel respected in the team.

You've been in the BAU for at least eight months now, and you've become closer to practically everyone. Now, they even give you their Sundays. Hotch sometimes comes with Jack, and he stays playing in your apartment office while you watch the game. The team was your family now... well, everyone except one.

You had nothing in common with the young doctor who's desk was in front of yours. You've had invited him to watch every football game since the beginning of the season with you, but he has never said yes. He is, or busy, or he simply likes to stay home and talk to his online friends about philosophy. You had no idea what Reid fancied to do in his free time, and honestly, you tossed your curiosity aside a long time ago.

The doorbell rang, making you get up from the floor quickly since you didn't want to miss the beginning of the game.

You walk backwards as your sight was focused on the screen. You looked over to your friends and did a headcount to see who was at the door. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, Hotch and JJ were there, so it could only mean that...

"Beautiful lady," you said as you opened the door to welcome Penelope Garcia as she held a box of cookies. "Are those Chiefs themed cookies?" You questioned as you looked at the cookies with red and yellow decoration. "That is so sweet."

"Anything for an important game. And guess who I found wandering through the hallway looking for your apartment."

That's when Spencer Reid appeared in your door frame. His hair was all messy, letting a single curl bounce against his forehead. He was wearing a shirt and a cardigan, definitely not appropriate football attire. You let a little smile as you saw him, being surprised to even see him there.

Penelope let himself in being welcomed by the rest of the team. While she sat down, you were still staring at the young doctor, who seemed even more surprise to be there than you were.

"Hey," you said softly.

"Hey," he replied in the same tone, giving you a tiny smile.

"You brought wine," you pointed out. Spencer quickly remembered he had a bottle in his hand and gave it to you nervously. "Thanks."

"JJ told me that your team is red, so I tried to match a little," he let you know, showing you his red cardigan. You chuckled. "Can I come in?"

"Huh? Oh sure! Come in." He smiled before entering, being received with a smile from the rest of the team.

"Look who's here!" Exclaimed Emily.

"Pretty boy!" Yelled Morgan. "You'll have to sit on the floor, though."

"It's okay," the doctor murmured as he sat down, turning around to look at you walking towards them.

Suddenly, you felt uncomfortable in your outfit. You felt the need of changing. It wasn't your best look.

You had no idea why you thought of changing into your pretty tight black dress that minute but decided to ignore it and sit down next to Spencer on the floor, on your usual spot.

Not that your usual spot was next to Reid, you always sat in the floor. It was not on purpose.

This is your house, for God's sake, chill out.

"Hey, Rossi, the doctor brought you wine," you said, giving the bottle to Rossi, who smiled.

Spencer whispered to you.

"You don't drink wine? I didn't know."

"Oh no, I do, I love wine. But on football night, we drink beer." You grabbed one bottle and gave it to Spencer with a smile. He just held on to it, not making any movement towards opening it. "Oh my God, the game is starting."

Suddenly, all your mind was on the game. You didn't care that Spencer was too close to you, or that you were the only two one in the floor.

You celebrated every yard your team advanced. Every pass that Patrick Mahomes did you were there to scream and cheer for it, and Spencer didn't get it, so you explained it to him.

"The goal is to get to the other side," you whispered to his ear. "Each team has four tries to move forward ten yards, and the defence of the other team needs to prevent the rival offence team of running the 10 yards in the four attempts because then it is their turn to attack." Spencer nodded. Even though you were terrible at explaining the game due to the alcohol and adrenaline running through your system, he now understood the game more clearly. "When the ball gets to the endzone on the other side of the field, it's called a touchdown, that equivalents to six points. After the touchdown, you can either go for a field goal, that is to kick the ball between the goalposts, or you can go for a two-point conversion, which is riskier."

"Got it," he whispered to you. "And why do you like the game so much?"

"It's so organized." He looked at you strangely. "You can't see it?" He shook his head. "There are at least sixty different offensive formations and plays, each one of them with different outcomes. The players have to move according to the positions of their teammates. You can't see it, but each one of the men that are on the line is crucial to get the ball to the other side. If you remove one of them, all the tactic, all the play, falls apart. There is no one play similar to the other, and they have to be able to change quickly if something doesn't go as planned or if the rival team reads your game. There is no game equal to another. There are thousands of different possibilities."

"Like chess," he said, and you nodded.

"Yeah, something like chess." You pointed out the player number 15 the quarterback. "That is the most valuable player on the board. He is the one in charge to change the play in seconds when something changes. If his left receptor is not in his position or was taken down by the rival, he needs, by any source, to pass the ball. He can't be taken down with the ball in hand because it adds yards."

Spencer was impressed. This was the most long-running conversation you both have ever had since you'd met.

He stared at you as you watched the game. How your expressions would change beneath seconds. The sport was a lot faster than he had expected, but time didn't go quick as he looked at you. It was like slow-motion. He had time to pay attention to the details.

He didn't realize he had been staring for at least five minutes until you stood up screaming.

"That was a clear fault!" You yelled, receiving complainings from your friends as you were blocking the screen. "For God's sake, where the hell is the referee? That was a fault! Get him out of the field!"

"He was lumping anyways," said Emily, receiving an angry look from the rest, including Spencer. "Sorry."

You sat down again, watching the rest of the third quarter in silence, still upset about that obvious fault of the rival team against the left receptor.

Spencer offered you the beer that he hadn't drink since the beginning, surprising you. You gave him a tiny smile, grabbing the bottle and opening it by hitting the cap against the table.

"You get in a whole new personality while watching football," he commented, making you laugh.

The ads gave an end to the third quarter, and you stood up quickly, walking towards the kitchen at fast speed. Spencer watched you as you ran away, being followed by JJ and Garcia.

"So," whispered JJ to you while Garcia took off her red and yellow headband and left it on the counter, "what's up with you and Spence?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't think we didn't notice how you've been whispering to his ear sensually all night?" Questioned Garcia, making you open your eyes widely.

"Woah, Woah, sensually?" You asked, finishing to drink your beer. "No, no, I was explaining the game to him."

"Right, right," said JJ slowly, clearly not believing you. "Sure, mhm."

"Guys, nothing is going on between the doctor and me. I'm actually surprised he even showed up."

"What do you mean?" Interrogated Garcia as you place the empty bottle next to the other ones.

"The doctor and I are friends, like us right now. Don't try to read between the lines that don't even exist."

"How come you never call him by his name? Or last name?"

You stared at JJ, confused, as you chew one of Garcia's cookies.

"What?"

"Yeah, that's right," agreed Garcia. "You only call Reid "the doctor" like he was Frankenstein or something. I had never noticed before."

You hadn't either.

"I don't know," you replied. "Some of my middle school Doctor Who obsessed personality is still there, who cares? It means nothing."

"I don't know," said JJ innocently, "sounds to me like a nickname."

"It is not a nickname, it's called a PhD, and he has three of them. Now, I'm gonna continue to watch my game. Please, don't ruin that for me too."

You avoided any of their theories for the rest of the night. You sat down next to Spencer again, but this time, you laid a farther away from him. Not so much as to be noticeable for the rest, but both of you could clearly feel it.

The Chiefs won that night, but you weren't as happy as usual. The voices of JJ and Garcia were still rumbling in your head. Was it possible that you were sensually whispering to his ear?

What on Earth did you just think?

"Bye guys, see you tomorrow," you said to your friends as they started leaving your apartment. "I called you an Uber, Prentiss, please don't drive!" You exclaimed to your friend with a smile. "Bye!"

"A good wine is a kiss to the palate," you heard Rossi explain to Reid. The older of the team was clearly drunk, trying to teach the doctor about wine at 1 am while Spencer was clearly not interested in the talk. "And you, my friend, are a good kisser."

You couldn't help but laugh when you saw the young guy's reaction to that phrase coming from drunk Rossi. The man kissed both of your cheeks, rambled something in Italian and left your apartment, holding the empty bottle of wine that Reid brought.

You two were the only ones left, and it was like it was made on purpose. You questioned if JJ and Garcia said something to your friends, but you were too drunk and tired to be speculating, so you just let it slide.

"It was fun," said Reid, cutting the silence that was left between both of you. "Kinda makes me regret not coming the last three weeks."

"Well, football season is long; you always have time to repair for your absence," you comforted him, walking towards the living room and collecting the empty bottles Morgan and Emily left. "I told you it was fun, doctor."

"Yeah, it was," he agreed, helping you leave the empty plates in the sink.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll do it tomorrow," you said, but he continued. You gave up and let him. "Although you'll have to buy an actual red t-shirt for next time. Weren't you uncomfortable all night with that shirt?"

"Nah, I'm used to it," he replied, smiling a little. "Hey, Y/N." You look at him. "There is this... there's this... there is this representation of The Rules of the Game, next Friday."

"I've never seen it."

"It is a French satirical comedy-drama film" he started to rant, making you smile unconsciously. "It is directed by Jean Renoir. Though this tale of the idle rich in France is technically a country-estate farce, it's far more than a mere satire of upper-crust affectations. Under the guise of mocking the bourgeoisie as they negotiate romantic minefields, he had also delivered a cunning commentary on old-world Europe; a heart cry at the hypocrisy of class pretensions; and finally, a rich, rewarding work of art that's equal parts irony and sympathy. "

"Sounds great," you pointed out, and he nodded, like if that was the whole point of his presentation.

"Exactly. This movie rewrote the rules of cinema entirely." He sounded so excited about it like he was quoting it accurately from the textbook. Well, everything he said seemed like quoted from an article. "It's also in French and made in 1939, so you could guess I'm going alone."

And now, you understood why he was telling you all of these. He wanted you to go with him. He wanted for both of you to go and watch the film with him.

"Well, I can go with you if you want." He immediately smiled after you said those words, "but I don't know any French, so it better have subtitles." He nodded, excited. That reaction made you wonder how many times has he had to go alone to this kind of things.

"If you like it, we can also go to watch M. It's the first serial killer movie where the killer is actually portrayed as a victim. It also makes political references to World War II since it was made at the beginning of the war."

"Okay, doctor, one movie at a time." He noticed he got too excited. "After work on Friday, we will go to see your movie."

"Thanks, Y/N. See you tomorrow at the office."

"See you tomorrow, doc." He stepped outside, and you slowly closed the door, looking at him wave you goodbye.

This wasn't a date. The doctor just watched three hours of football, and you were repaying him with a favour. Not a date.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you ready for your nerdy date tonight, pretty lady?" Asked Morgan, making you throw a pen at him. "Don't get violent, princess, save it for the passionate make out."

"Shut up."

Morgan quickly became your best friend in the team, and you know he would take a bullet for you presented the case.

Sometimes you wished the bullet would come quicker.

Like now, when he was making kissing noises in your ear as you tried to finish your paperwork.

"Don't you have work to do!?" You angrily exclaimed while he found it hilarious. "It's impossible that you finished your paperwork already."

"What are you going to wear? A sexy Doctor Who costume? Or a cardigan and no shirt?"

"Have anyone tell you not to mess with a woman that carries a gun?" He laughed. "And it's not a date. He sat down and watched three hours of football for me, I'm repaying the favor by watching one of his films. Have a problem with that?"

"Not at all, princess, but knowing that those movies don't necessarily have a killing audience, you and pretty boy will be all alone in the theatre tonight."

You rolled your eyes, looking for something else on your desk to throw at him, but not finding something sharp enough.

"Hotch confiscated your scissors when you tried to stab me with them two weeks ago," he reminded you as he laughed, making you angrier.

"At least you know I'm capable of doing it," you said to him.

Reid appeared ready at your desk, receiving a tiny smile from your part.

"You ready?" You nodded, grabbing your purse, your badge and gun. You walked away not before giving Morgan a threatening look, leaving to the elevator with the doctor. "Oh, I found out the movie does not have subtitles, but I can translate you most of it. I've been practising my French."

You smiled at him. This was going to be a long night.

You were scared that the only thing that was in your mind was Morgan's lousy comment about the empty theatre.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, so I bought popcorn, sodas and some candy," you said, giving him his stuff, which he grabbed with lack of ability. "Also, this guy sells pins with the poster of the movie on them. I got one for you," you grabbed his shirt and pinned the button to it, making him blush, "and one for me." You pinned the button to your blouse, smiling. "Look, we look like well-prepared film enthusiasts. We rock."

He laughed, walking you towards the entrance of the theatre. You hadn't realized how nervous you were. This wasn't a date, but what if it was? It looked like a date, you were wearing something you would wear on a date. You even grabbed him by the shirt and pinned a button on his shirt.

It didn't sound as sexy as you were making it sound, but it was definitely something.

You both sat down on your seats, looking at the white screen waiting to be projected on. Your palms were a little bit sweaty, and you were envying your company for being so calm.

"So, doctor," you called him, and he raised his eyebrows. " Have you ever brought a girl to watch a foreign movie before?"

Well, what kind of idiotic comment was that? "Have you ever brought a girl...?" What answer were you searching for?

"Uhm, no. You are the first," he said nervously.

That was a valid answer.

Not a date.

"Hey, so, am I expecting you at my place on Sunday?" You watched him as he almost choked on his drink.

"What?"

"Football night. Sunday's game is crucial. Morgan even rambled about the idea of bets, but I don't take chances, you know?" He nodded. "Do you like bets?"

"Not when I can't be sure that I'm going to win." You laughed.

"Right. You always go save, Vegas." He chuckled, but before he said something, the movie started.

You saw him as he accommodated closer to you, and before you could move, you remembered that the movie didn't have subtitles.

He had to whisper the movie to you.

Like you did with the football game.

Garcia's voice as she mentioned the "sensual whisper" came to your mind. Thanks, Garcia, real thanks.

The man on the film started talking, and you could feel Spencer's soft voice near to your ear as he whispered the words in English.

At some point, you didn't even listen to what he was saying, you just worried about the feeling of his soft breathing crashing with your ear and neck. How he sounded so calm, translating each word with delicacy, making regular English sound as poesy in your ears.

After a few minutes of being guided by his voice, you turned around to look at him. Your noses were almost touching each other, and your breaths were crashing onto the other's skin. You liked the feeling.

Ugh, you hated when Morgan was right.

"Spencer..." you murmured his name for the first time. You've never called him like that before, not even in the field. He didn't know how his name sounded in your lips, and now that he knew, it was his favourite sound in the world.

And without saying something else, Spencer Reid leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you and impacting his lips into yours.

If all the striking and fantabulous feelings you've ever experienced in your life would morph together in one action, would be kissing Spencer Reid. Kissing him felt like finishing a book that you read all night or drinking a cup of tea on a cold day. His lips tasted like how eating feels after spending hours of hunger or like strawberries with chocolate under the sun with friends. He smelled like flowers on spring and the fragrance of an antique store in Greece.

You have never been to Greece, but he smelled like that, you just knew.

What you didn't know is for how long you didn't let him go. One second the lights were dark and the sound of a French man's accent is playing loudly, and next, the lights turned on, and the music of the credits filled the theatre, making both of you break apart.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Finally, beer, I've been waiting for you," you said to the cases that were on your best friend's hands. "Damn, you brought Morgan again. You could've left him. He's a big boy, he can take it."

"Would you stop talking to the beer? It's weird," claimed Morgan, giving you a loud kiss on your cheek before entering. "Hey, you never told me how the date went."

"See? This is why I tell the beer not to bring you; you are so annoying." You grabbed one of the bottles and gave it to him, pushing him towards the living room.

The doorbell rang again, making you turn around. You quickly opened the door, looking at JJ, Garcia and the doctor standing outside your apartment. You immediately smiled at the sight of Spencer behind the girls.

"Welcome to the best night of the week, ladies and gentlemen. Cookies and food on the kitchen, the rest of the annoying people are in the living room looking at the TV like zombies," you told with a smile, letting them in.

JJ and Garcia quickly walked towards the kitchen, while Spencer stayed next to you in front of the door.

"Hey," he mumbled to you, making you smile even more.

"Hey," you repeated as he kissed your cheek.

You decided to give it a chance, but for any motive, you were going to tell the team. You determined that it was best to see if it works before hoping the team, especially Garcia and JJ.

"I brought wine again," he said, showing you the bottle, and you smiled, "and I was thinking if we could drink it after the game, you know, both of us."

"That sounds so nice, Doc, but next time tell me because I'm in my third beer." He laughed. "You can drink it with Rossi if you like."

"I really need to get used to football mode."

"Yeah, you should."

You grabbed the bottle of wine after winking at him, walking towards the living room where the rest of the team was.

"The doctor brought wine again, Rossi." The man smiled, grabbing the bottle.

"I hope you listened to my suggestions from last week, Reid," he said, and Spencer nodded.

"You bet I did."

Both of you sat on the floor like last time, and you proceeded to explain the game to him to his ear, even though he already understood it.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #y/n #reader

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charged-wanderlust · 3 years

Text

can’t stand her | ruelle x piama x mc

oh yeah. nobody asked, but i fucking DELIVERED

“You’re joking. You’ve got to be joking!” Piama cries out, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“What part of this makes it look like I’m joking, do tell-”

“-We’re not putting dead animals everywhere! This isn’t a funeral - and if it was, mind you, it’d still be awful decoration if not slightly more appropriate-”

“You’re acting like I’m suggesting corpses - Autumn celebrates death so skeletons are perfectly appropriate for an Autumn noble, because in case you forget, I am one!”

“So you’re telling me all of Autumn is just that tasteless?”

“Would the two of you just shut up?!”

Slamming your fists against the table, you give them your best glare, hoping it was harsh enough for them to feel a chill. “Ruelle, bring the skeletons, Piama, stuff them with flowers. We’re gonna make this work out or someone help me I’ll strangle you both.”

That effectively shuts them both up as they turn to gape at you incredulously; they’d never heard you speak to them like that, which clearly caught them off guard, but by now you’re far too sick of their bickering preventing anything from getting gone. You have a party to plan, dammit, and it might’ve slipped your mind that putting the only available friend from Autumn and the best party decorator in the same room might lead to a homicide.

“Skeletons stuffed with flowers...?” Ruelle echoes, blinking slowly until a tiny smile appears on her face. “You know, that actually could turn out nice. I think Xenia would appreciate that.”

Piama huffs, crossing her arms. “I suppose we could make that work-”

“-but you better include the dark and poisonous flowers because they’re her favourite-”

“Oh you are absolutely insufferable, Ruelle!”

“For the love of all things sacred, not again!” I love my friends, I love my friends, I love my friends- “That’s it. Enough decorating, you two need to blow off steam. I’m not letting either of you leave this room till you sort stuff out, because I’m not dealing with this anymore.”

While Ruelle practically rolls her eyes into the back of her head, Piama is absolutely gobsmacked. “What’s there to work out? You brought me here to decorate, and Ruelle’s preventing me from even doing that! Might as well get her to do it, if she knows everything!”

Said woman groans so hard, she’s clearly taking all of her willpower and sense of self-preservation not to knock anyone’s lights out. “That’s it, I’m done. You can’t keep me here, see ya.”

She dissipates into thin air, but you move even faster; she may have the ability to turn invisible but you know she’s entirely solid still. You jump, arms outstretched, and tackle her to the ground, forcing her back into view. With a triumphant smirk, you pin her underneath you, a short hit of adrenalin - or maybe just Ruelle’s proximity to your face - making your heart hammer wildly in your chest. Victory.

You want to memorise every detail of this moment and frame it in the great hall of your mind.

“What were you saying about not being able to keep you here?”

Piama scurries over just to see the look on Ruelle’s face, and is positively delighted at what she finds.

“Oh, stars. She’s blushing!”

“I’m not,” Ruelle hisses, eyeballing daggers her way, but her fair complexion makes it all too easy to see the tinge of colour on her cheeks. Vividly. “Get off me.”

You stumble off her, slightly stunned that Ruelle actually is, in fact, blushing, and can’t help but giggle. “I never thought I’d see the day...”

“Shut up!” She growls, but with her flushed cheeks her intimidation is comparable to that of an angry kitten. “Like you don’t blush whenever MC does so much as breathe in your direction.”

Piama gasps, fluffing up like a bird with ruffled feathers, “I so do not! MC, tell her I don’t!”

All of a sudden their bickering was more entertaining than grating, so being the shitstirrer you are, you only enable them further. After all, if they’re going to do your head in so much, you deserve to wreak a little havoc. As a treat.

“You do sometimes...”

“MC!”

“Ha!” Ruelle grins victoriously, backing Piama into a corner. “I bet I could make you blush right now.”

You crook a brow at her, sauntering over with your hands on your hips. “Well looks like someone’s deflecting...”

Peeling off Piama just before they crossed a platonic level of personal space, Ruelle stomps up to you, slamming a hand next to you against the wall, bringing your faces so close her breath fanned over your lips.

“Oh yeah? Let’s see how you like being pinned.”

Frost.

She already knows she’s won, daring to settle her other arm on your hip but only lightly, rubbing circles against your skin with her thumb. The fabric of your clothing is the only thing stopping her from feeling the gooseflesh erupting under her touch. “Not so haughty now, are we?”

“Gosh, get a room,” Piama mutters, only barely able to tear her eyes away. Getting the real hint, you beckon her to come closer with a curled finger.

Ruelle smirks, and it shouldn’t be that hot but it is. “Oh sorry princess, jealous you’re missing out on all the action?”

“I- You-!” As if pulled by an invisible string, she shuffles closer, face flushing ever-so-slightly. “Y-You’re truly incorrigible, you know that?”

Her words fell flat, as by the time they left her lips she was face to face with Ruelle, barely a foot’s width apart. If she wasn’t before, she was definitely blushing now - and the fire in their eyes made you realise their antagonistic relationship might not be so bad after all... in the right context, anyway.

Egging them on, you hum, “Ruelle did say she could make you blush, and your cheeks are looking pretty dark now, Piama~”

“I’ll show you who’s blushing!” Piama curses, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you into the nearest chair and forcing you to sit - only followed by her climbing into your lap and grabbing your chin, staring at you intently for any signs of a blush while her free hand trailed down your neck.

Your breath hitched. Guess Ruelle wasn’t the only winner today, but you refused to let her just have that. No, you’re going to claim that after everything these two impossible princesses put you though - you deserve that much, at least. You lean in impossibly closer, lips ghosting over hers ever so slightly as you challenge - “Go on, then. Do it.”

Well, she obviously can’t back down now.

Her kiss is tentative, at first. Then it’s needy. Then she’s gasping against your lips for more, and you’re on cloud nine. She only pulls apart to inhale shakily, and only then do you notice Ruelle leaning over your both, her hands sliding down Piama’s hips squeezing at her thighs, and she shivers in your lap.

Ruelle’s voice is low and husky in your ear. “Can I have a taste, too, Your Majesty?”

The way she says your name is not so much mocking as it is teasing - but by now you’ve surrendered. By now, whatever little competition was going on has melted away into desire. You nod, and Piama slips out of the chair for Ruelle to take her place and pin you to it - she licks her lips, taking you in, then closes the distance.

Her kiss is fervent, her lips almost cold - it’s a direct contrast to Piama’s, but you welcome it. You welcome both of their touches, their words, their personalities, no matter how much they clash, because when they come together like this? It’s powerful enough to break open the sky.

Piama is determined to try and break Ruelle’s composure, pulling her hood down from behind her and brushing her hair over her shoulder so she could lean down and kiss her neck, slowly, tantalizingly so; and then she bites, making Ruelle jolt slightly, so you take the chance to pull her bottom lip between your teeth. She gasps and it’s beautiful, so you kiss her again, and again, and again, all the while Piama mischievously riles you both up beyond control-

Click.

The second you all hear the sound of someone touching the door handle, the chair is knocked over in your haste to look presentable - all of a sudden you’re very fascinated about the windows, while Piama and Ruelle start shoving skulls and flowers together.

Lyris strolls in, looking around at the large room, then stops. “You haven’t got much done here, have you?”

“W-We- We were-!”

“I guess that time would’ve been spent getting those two to work together, mm? Why, look at that! The bones and blooms look lovely together, what do you know.” With a flourish of his silks, he turns around to leave, clearly just checking up on the place, and you all let out synchronized sighs of relief when the door shuts behind him.

Only for it to open again, Lyris’s head peeking through with a cheeky wink as he added;

“By the way Ruelle, you have a bite mark on your neck.”

#HEHEHEHEHE #this fic probably couldve gotten longer if i didnt get distracted #reigning passions #piama of the spring #ruelle of the autumn #piama x ruelle #piama x mc #mc x ruelle #reigning passions mc #lyris of the spring #piama x ruelle x mc #can you tell i love enemies to lovers?#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck fanfic

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

can’t help falling in love with you

desc: isn’t it just the worst when you’re feeling sad? lonely? not enough? george weasley’s here to change your mind about all of those, love.

A/N: so of course leeann and i were discussing sad/happy things and so THIS happened. also dedicating this to all my lovely ladies who feel the same way i do. not enough, sometimes. i hope someday someone proves you so goddamn wrong.

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole | message me to be added, loves

Steam engulfs the restroom. You shut the door quietly. You can tell, already, that the water is far too hot. But you step in anyway, and let it drench and pierce your skin. Big, sobbing tears begin to fall down your cheekbones and neck, and you lean into the water. Letting it pierce you.

Darling, it’s okay -- we can keep trying. We can keep trying as long as it takes.

No, we can’t, George! Don’t you see? I can’t give you want you want. I can’t give you want you want, and what you need. It’s just not enough anymore, is it? I’m not enough.

You let out a choked sob and will yourself to think of something else. To the white covered grounds in the meadow, underneath the stars. Underneath the moon. The snowflakes. That night, all those long years ago.

“Can’t you please just tell me where we’re going, darling!”

You’d tugged a bit at the blindfold around your eyes. George, who had been steadying you slightly on the cobblestone, tickled your waist a bit. You giggled. “Nope -- no peeking,” he’d said -- his voice deep and cool and clear.

The cobblestone had soon turned to snow, because you felt it crunch beneath your feet. The cold, winter air bit at your exposed skin. You’d heard something -- was it Christmas music? Perhaps a band at a local pub?

“Okay...” George had said before placing a hand on the small of your back. You’d suddenly felt hot nerves rising within your chest. Like they’d been there, all along, in the pit of your stomach -- waiting to erupt. Like a volcano. You’d been rather worried that they were about too. “You can look now.”

You’d ripped the blindfold off so fast, nearly ripping your winter hat off with it. You pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. You were at the lake. The lake just across from the meadow, on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. Where you’d met, all those long years ago. Before school. Before the two of you.

“Not another recreation of our first date, is it, George?” you’d teased, peering out onto the water. But when you’d turned around, it wasn’t a recreation at all. Because there he was, bending down before you, the tips of his nose and ears and fingers red from the cold.

And he was telling you. He was telling you how he’d fallen in love all those long years ago, when you’d first met. Before anything had even began. He’d been waiting, he told you, all that time when you’d been with someone else. He knew, deep down, that he’d been waiting for his wife.

He was making you laugh through your tears. He was always making you laugh, wasn’t he? Reminding you of the times he’d prank you at school, because he yearned for your attention. Of the times he’d follow you back to your common room, hoping he’d be able to have a word before you’d turned in for bed. How he’d had to stop himself from telling he loved you the second you’d agreed to the date. How he had to hold himself back from buying you an engagement ring the moment he’d gotten home from that first one.

And you remembered, in that blustery, windy snowstorm, just how he’d asked you all that time ago to be his girlfriend -- heart thundering, hands shaky, eyes darkened brown. And then, as snowflakes had perched themselves on his eyelashes that turned to sweet tears when he’d blinked, he asked you to be his wife. You threw your arms around his neck and noticed, more than once, shades of that young boy again -- mischievous and cheeky and irrevocably in love with you, the woman who would be his wife. The mother of his children.

Maybe you’ve cried all of your tears. Your shoulders tense, and skin burns from the piercing water. You emerge, dry yourself off, and sling a silk robe over your shoulders. You brush out your hair, slip your feet into cozy shoes, and will yourself not to pick at your nails. Not to bite your tongue. Not to cry anymore. Because he’d chosen you, right?

To have and to hold.

For better, for worse.

“I’m going to put on a pot of tea,” you call. You hate the way your voice sounds in your own ears. Shaky. Wobbly. Foreign. You clear your throat -- once, twice -- willing it to be steady with your next words. “George? Tea, darling?”

There’s no answer. You turn on the kettle, turn on your heel and make way toward your bedroom. You grab a bit of lotion from your kitchen table. Where are you? you think.

“Love,” you call again. You sound less uneasy this time. “Would you like a bit of tea?”

And you find him beside your bed, just as you had in the snowy field. Eyes watery, smile soft, on one knee. Your wedding ring in his hand.

And he’s telling you, all over again, how much he loves you. How much he’s always loved you -- when he saw you pulling your siblings across the snow-covered hills next to the lake, your cheeks rosy from the cold. How his heart had skipped a beat when you’d smiled at him. When he couldn’t sleep the night after your first date. When he couldn’t sleep, and instead had just slowly caressed your hair, after you’d say yes. After you told him you’d be his wife.

“What -- what are you doing?” you ask in a tiny voice, your smile watery.

“Choosing you,” he says. He comes to his feet and places the ring gently back on your finger. His voice is soft and clear and calm even through his own tears. “I’ll always choose you. Over and over again, time after time, because you’re enough. You’re more than enough. You’re all I need, you’re all I’ve ever needed, okay? You and me. Together.”

He gently raises you off of your feet, his body hugging yours in a way nobody else’s ever has. Your hands play absentmindedly with his deep red hair. He breathes in and out, fingers running gently over your back in slow, circular motions. “And if we’re meant to have children,” he says softly, kissing away your tears, “it will happen, love.”

Four months later

You walk, slowly, your fingers folded together, your knuckles white, your heart thundering. You peer forward -- your husband, bent over his teacup, blowing gently on the hot drink. He meets your gaze, his eyes bright and hands steady.

“So?”

His voice is soft -- softer than it ever has been. Softer than the day he’d proposed, and all of those times he tells you he loves you. Softer than when he’d chosen you, again and again and again.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cry, but the sight of him -- so positive, so optimistic, so hopeful -- you can’t help it.

He places your hands inside of his and squeezes tightly. His eyes flood with concern at the sight of you -- crying softly, tears welling up in your eyes. You look down at your shoes and then up again at him. And the smallest of grins lifts your cheeks. “Yes,” you tell him. Your voice -- tiny and quiet and soft. “Yes.”

And tears are escaping his eyes without any effort, and he’s pulling you into a massive hug, and he’s kissing you as he did on your wedding night, like the very feeling of his lips pressed to yours is the oxygen he needs, pumping through his lungs at this very moment.

And you peer at him again as he places you down -- your husband, a father -- and think how, in just a few short months, he’ll be able to hold you, and another, in his arms.

And his mind is racing, is spinning with thoughts, and he’s reminded of all of those moments when he felt himself fall in love with you all over again. Like the time you’d tried to bake him his favorite cookies and had positively failed. Or when you’d danced around your flat to really crummy Muggle music his mother had shown you both. Or here, now, when you’d told him he’s going to be a father.

And he just can’t help it when he looks at you with watery eyes -- his wife, his girl, the absolute love of his life --

He just can’t help falling in love with you.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfiction #weasley twins fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp imagines #my writing

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themonkeycabal · 3 years

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WandaVision Ep 8 Spoilers

(THERE IS A MID-CREDITS SCENE, BTW)

Previously on WandaVision: It was Agatha all along.

This show has really come along well. I was worried after the first couple episodes, which were extremely slow, but it's tightened up and been entertaining as heck, in addition to being kind of a surprising meditation on grief and dealing or not dealing. You go along with wacky sitcom hijinks and then get whacked with the reminder so many things that have happened here are driven by terrible loss.

Anyway …. Acting Director Dick is Up To Something regarding Vision, and I fear we're all going to have to endure lots of his jackassery this episode. He's the not very fun part of this show, tbh. But we're getting down to it, so hopefully he gets his comeuppance sooner rather than later. And then on to deal with Agatha. Who is fabulously rotten. I love her, I have to say.

I guess this all leads into Doctor Strange 2, which I didn't know until Feige said it at the TCAs this week. So, that's something to look out for, too. Maybe everybody already knew that, but that was new to me, I think.

In happy news, nobody is power washing the sidewalks this morning. Hooray.

Creepy woods, a figure holding a flaming torch, Salem, Mass. 1693. Ah, Agatha's origin story. Burning at the stake. Or, maybe not. So far it's just being tied to one in the middle of a dark, creepy night.

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch?" "Yes. I am a witch." "Yet, you have betrayed your coven." *gasp* Agatha!

She's been captured by her coven, because she stole knowledge, practiced dark magic, and other sundry evilities. But she says she's innocent, innocent, do you hear her! Oh, I guess not, "I did not break your rules, they simply bent to my power."

The lead witch is her mother, apparently. Since Agatha seems unrepentant, all the witches zap her with witchy magic or something. She screams a lot. But then her dark powers start drawing from the witches, sucking them dry. This is all very dramatic. Mom casts the final bolt, but Agatha is too powerful and she breaks free. All the other witches, except mom, have been grotesquely mummified.

Agatha swears she can be good, mom doubts. Mom zaps her again. Oh, whoops, Agatha drains mom next. She takes the broach from mom's desiccated corpse then zooms off into the sky in a burst of swirly purple magicy mist. The coven really didn't think that plan through all the way.

Present day, we're right where we left off, in Agatha's basement cavern of dark witches and nosy neighbors. Agatha is talking to her rabbit, Mr. Scratchy, and smirking at Wanda. "I know. She does look shocked to meet the real us, doesn't she?"

Wanda's eyes go glowy and Agatha laughs. "Oh, that's adorable. My thoughts are not available to you, toots."

Wanda wants to know where her children are, and Agatha mocks her about her reappearing/disappearing accent. Wanda tries to whammy her. "Huh, your magic's no good here." But Agatha's is. Agatha's no dummy, and now she's got Wanda magically trussed up in the center of the room.

"Didn't you notice? Basic protection spell? One on each wall? No? Nothing?" Hmm. Agatha, tbh, Wanda has like no idea what she's doing. So … "How do you not know the fundamentals?"

Wanda asks "Who are you?" and Agatha asks the same "Who are *you*? All those costumes and hairstyles. I was so patient, waiting for you to reveal your true self. I got close with fake Pietro — Fietro, if you will". Lol. I love her. She goes on about the magicy stuff she did to make Fietro "But you're so crippled by your own self doubt that you believed it. Oh Wanda."

"When I sensed this place, the afterglow of so many spells cast all at once, I couldn't make heads or tails of it." She shows off a mind control spell with some sort of big gross bug. Great. And has it fly at Wanda's face. Super awesome, Agatha. Oh, I see, she's going through the spells she thinks Wanda has cast, all the details, all the control of a whole town and all its storylines. Agatha's impressed and envious, "What's your secret, sister?"

Wanda says she didn't do anything and Agatha doesn't like that answer and tosses Wanda around. Now, see, Agatha, much as your coven underestimated you, I think your runic protection is only going to go so far before Wanda decides it doesn't.

"I tried to be gentle, to nudge you awake from this ridiculous fantasy. But, you'd rather fall apart than face your truth." Well, I mean. She's really been through a lot the last few weeks, Agatha. Like A LOT. Oh, and we're going to relive it. She's casting some sort of memory spell on Wanda, taking them back to the vast emptiness, endless nothing Wanda described to Fietro a couple weeks ago. You're not being very nice, Agatha.

"It's time to look at some real reruns." Wanda doesn't want to play along, but Agatha reminds her that she's got her children.

So, through the magic memory door they step, and into a tiny Sokovian apartment, with Wanda's parents. Her father apparently smuggled DVDs of "I Love Lucy" and "Bewitched". Didn't the people of Sokovia suffer enough? Well, he's got "The Addams Family", too. That's okay, I guess.

Little Pietro runs in reminding Mama and Papa that the only rule of TV night is you have to speak English. They call for Wanda and Agatha nudges her to step into the role of little Wanda. Papa says Wanda can pick what they're going to watch, but outside, there's gunfire. Except, I guess it's no big deal, Mama turns away from the window and the street battle below their apartment, while little Wanda says she wants to watch "The Dick Van Dyke Show", season 2, episode 21. Poor kid. Pietro agrees and moans, "Always sitcom, sitcom, sitcom!"

I'm waiting for the Stark Bomb to fall.

Little Wanda is far too enamored of "The Dick Van Dyke Show". Oh! There's the bomb. Pietro grabs her and they hide under the bed and they stare at the Stark Bomb. She and Pietro discuss what to do, while in the background, behind the bomb, the tv continues to play.

Little Wanda reaches out with her magic hand and then big Wanda is yanked out of the memory by Agatha, who demands to know if she stopped the bomb going off. "You used a probability hex?" Wanda says she didn't do anything, the bomb just never went off.

"So, what I see here is a baby witch, obsessed with sitcoms, and years of therapy ahead of her." lol, but harsh. "Where'd you get the big guns, Wanda?" A good question, Agatha. We never did get that answer before, really, did we? Just a sort of vague suggestion of "hydra did stuff to her and pietro maybe?".

"I don't want to go back there." "I know you don't. But it's good medicine, angel. The only way forward, is back."

Through another magic door we go.

Ha, I just paused and saw the title of the ep is "Previously On".

And into the Hydra lab. "Don't be scared, you already lived it once."

Oh, it's Loki's scepter. And the … whichever stone that is. I can't remember, totally lost track of them. Mind stone?

Wanda is in the containment unit with the scepter. The Hydra scientist wants her to do something with the scepter, and jr scientist says that no subject has survived this and lead scientist is like shut up and 'go ahead Wanda, it'll be totally fine'.

Wanda approaches the scepter and it starts to shake and the stone breaks free and flies at her, but then pauses and they stare at each other. She reaches out for it. Then the blue outer bit of the stone explodes off and underneath is the the yellow stone. Ok, yeah it is the Mind stone.

Lots of dramatic power stuff with Wanda and the stone. She sees a flying silhouetted figure in the light of the stone and then passes out. She survives! I mean, obviously. The Hydra scientists have her sent to isolation where they torture her by making her watch "The Brady Bunch". Well, no, I guess she likes it. Keep this under your hat, but if you ever want to break me, making me watch "The Brady Bunch" could probably do it.

The Hydra scientists meanwhile are trying to figure out what happened, watching the recordings over and over — they don't see the whole stone flying towards Wanda and the subsequent mind meld. She's just standing there, and then falls down.

Agatha sums this up for us "So, little Orphan Wanda got up close and personal with an Infinity Stone that amplified what otherwise would have died on vine. The broken pieces of you are adding up, buttercup. I have a theory, but I need more."

Door number three reveals her digs at the Avengers compound. She is, of course, watching TV. "Malcolm in the Middle." Well, it's better than "The Brady Bunch." The only thing I hate more than "The Brady Bunch" is "The Partridge Family."

"Where are we now?" "The Avengers compound. It was the first home Vision and I ever shared. Pietro was dead, and I was in a new country. I was all alone."

Vision enters through the wall, back when he didn't remember doors existed, and Wanda invites him to sit next to her and watch TV. "It's funny because of the grievous injury the man just suffered?" Vision doesn't get sitcoms either.

Vision sweetly tells her that if she wants to talk about what she's feeling, he'd like to know. "Should you wish to tell me. Should that be of some comfort to you." "What makes you think talking about it would bring me comfort?" "Well, I read a thing—" that's the Tony Stark part of Vision. "The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again." Poor Wanda.

Vision has a little "I don't know how to respond to that" face journey that is subtle but made me laugh.

She apologizes to him. "It's just like this wave washing over me again and again." She says the wave will drown her, but Vision says it won't.

"It can't all be sorrow, can it?" IS2G if you two make me tear up this morning, I will … not do anything but be kind of annoyed. I have had the worst allergies the last couple of days, don't make me more snotty!

"I've always been alone, so I don't feel the lack. It's all I've ever known. I've never experienced loss, because I've never had a loved one to lose. What is grief, if not love persevering?" Damn you, Vision. At least I have a new box of tissues.

He sees something funny on the telly and laughs then apologizes. She laughs with him, though. "No, it was funny." They smile at each other, cutely awkward.

Even Agatha wipes at the corner of one eye. Though it could be annoyance. Hard to tell.

"So to recap: parents dead, brother dead, Vision dead." You're still a very mean person, Agatha. "What happened when he wasn't there to pull you back from the darkness, Wanda?"

Wanda doesn't want to play this game anymore. Agatha insists. "Tell me how you did it? Vision was gone, but you wanted him back."

Wanda sort of wakes up, "I wanted him back." Door number four takes us to SWORD's ridiculous and massive lobby. Really, what is with the stupidly enormous monitors hovering over the whole absurd place? So stupid. Nobody wants to watch the news that badly or bigly.

Wanda is walking through the lobby — SWORD's security sucks — but contrary to Acting Director Dick's version of the story, Wanda is politely asking the security guy where Vision is. And not throwing red woo-woos or anything. "Please, please. When I came back, he was gone. His body. And I know he's here. He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it."

Speaking of AD Dick. He seems to be watching this on the security feed, he calls the security desk and talks to the guard. Wanda spots the camera. But, security guy waves her through, gives her directions to wherever.

Security guy gets up to buzz Wanda in, but she says she's got it, and she opens the door herself. The footage AD Dick used to make her look like a terrorist. I mean, we knew he was a dick, so this is no surprise, but still. Jimmy! Arrest that asshole for aggravated assholery and general shadiness!

Anyway, Wanda's striding down hallways and as she comes even to the Director's door, the security light goes green and beeps so she goes into his office.

There’s polite introductions and whatever.

"I understand you're here to see the Vision. To recover his body." "Well, I'm his next of kin." "I understand." You're a lying sleazy snake who's been doing shady things with Vision's body. "I'd like to show you something?" "And then you'll give him to me?" No, because he's a scumbag.

He shows her a lab, she's confused, he says it's what she asked to see. And down in the lab are technicians taking Vision's body apart. Obviously, this is horrifying to her. What did Hayward expect to get from showing Wanda that? Like she'd be all "oh, hmm, how fascinating. Look, he's made of wires and such. By all means, cut my boyfriend's robot head off. For science"?

"What are you doing to him?" "We're dismantling the most sophisticated sentient weapon ever made." I think you're a liar pants, Dick. "It's our legal and ethical obligation."

"I just want to bury him. It's all I want." "Are you sure?" "Excuse me?" "Not everyone has the kind of power that could bring their soulmate back online — forgive me — back to life." You are such a sleaze, Dick. They can't get Vision to work again, so why not emotionally manipulate the grieving woman to do it for you. Gross. DIAF Dick.

"No, I can't do that. That's not why I'm here." "Okay, I can't allow you to take three billion dollars worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground." He's the worst. "The best I can do is let you say goodbye to him here."

"He's all I have." "Well, that's just it, Wanda; he isn't yours." Somebody needs to squash this guy like a bug. I don't care who. Wanda, obviously, deserves the honor most, but let her get on with her life, I say. Monica's probably the next best for sure. SOMEBODY THOUGH! Hand Darcy a wrench, she'll take care of it.

Where were we … Oh, Wanda's doing the head tilt of impending magical ass-kickery. She busts through the glass, drops down to the floor of the lab, and a security team runs out to point their guns at her. AD Dick tells them to fall back. Why, his plan's working just perfectly, no need to interfere with the woman he’s making suffer extra.

Wanda walks around Vision's body to his head. And she puts her hand over the giant hole where Thanos ripped out the mind stone. "I can't feel you." Every bit of this, for me, takes AD Dick from a generic loathsome character, to somebody actually disgusting. Do not like.

Wanda can't feel Vision at all, and she walks away, out of the room, out of the SWORD building, leaving the body behind. THIS IS VERY SAD, MARVEL.

She gets into her car, and in the passenger seat is an open envelope, like for a greeting card or something. And off she goes to Westview, New Jersey. A down-on-its-luck small town, full of sad looking people and dirty streets.

She pulls into the driveway of a property that's overgrown, with just a foundation, no house.

Damn you show. It wasn't an envelope, it was a real estate deed with a plan of the property with a red heart drawn on it, and the words "to grow old in. v." inside. What did Wanda do to deserve this? I mean, fine, she was in Hydra for like a minute, but she wasn't a true believer or anything, and she redeemed herself. Come on. Stupid Marvel, making all the things hurt.

She's crying, you're crying, I'm crying, everybody's crying, as she walks into the foundation of the home that never was. And then it all just comes pouring out of her in a great burst of red light and grief and power. Creating the sitcom world around her and swallowing Westview. Poor Wanda.

There. There's your answer, Agatha. Are you happy, you big meanie? Go turn AD Dick into a toad, or something, would you?

Hm, from her power, the yellow light of the mind stone starts to separate out, from back when she and it sort of had their moment in the Hydra lab, and out of that Vision is recreated or reborn or reconstituted or … whatever. Then they're in the black and white world of the first ep, and everything is perfect. Damn you, Marvel.

Real world Wanda looks up from where she's standing behind B&W Wanda and Vision and sees it's all just a TV show set. Agatha is in the audience, clapping. She vanishes and Wanda can hear Billy and Tommy screaming for her. She runs off set and into her front yard.

Out on the street, Agatha has the boys on magic leashes.

Agatha says she knows what Wanda is and that "You have no idea how dangerous you are." Well, keep holding her boys with magic ropes around their necks and we'll all find out. Agatha's gone full witchy here, she looks great.

"You're supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation. Here you are, using it to make breakfast for dinner." lol. Hey! I was actually thinking last night that I hadn't made waffles in a while. Breakfast for dinner is its own kind of magic, Agatha. (note to self: check we have syrup)

Wanda is pretty done with Agatha. She wants the boys released.

"Oh yes, your children. Vision. This whole little life you've made; this is chaos magic, Wanda. And that makes you … The Scarlet Witch!" DUN DUN DUN! CREDITS! !!!!

Well that was all very dramatic and sad. A really good episode, really good. Damn you, Marvel. Kathryn Hahn is great, absolutely love her.

Yes, there's a mid-credits scene, btw. F'in AD Dick, for what it's worth, finally putting his Genius Master Plan into action. What a dick. The biggest sack of tiny dicks you ever saw. No really, I hate this guy. I hope Wanda tears him a hundred new ones. Then sets what's left on fire. With her mind.

Also, he’s dumb. He can’t possibly think he can contain Wanda when she gets a look at his Genius Master Plan, can he? Is he that dumb? Probably, but couldn’t one of his little minions go “um, sir, she did almost defeat Thanos. I suspect this may end catastrophically for us.”

Do you suppose Darcy’s still stuck in traffic?

OH NO! There’s only one more episode left. I’m sad about that. This has turned out really quite good. Well done, show. Well done.

#wandavision #wandavision spoilers #wandavision liveblog

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 3 years

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Harvest Moon

Summary: {A light sequel to: Unforgettable} They laughed, sort of sadly. The full night sky enriched them with gentle peace, strengthened by the soft light of the stars. The temperature dropped considerably since Sam had initially come out. But he didn’t mind the nice chill, it braced his skin and left him with tingling goosebumps. It reminded Sam how real the moment actually was. Paying less attention to the hearty sloshes of water, Sam picked up his radio.

Ships: SamBucky

Word Count: 5,285

The light from the orange sunset flushed Sam Wilson’s cheeks, encouraging the spread of an internally hot blush. Color blossomed under his soft complexion with all the grace of the water rings rippling under the rocks skipping on the lake. Though the sweat was just beginning to puddle in his palms and drip down his temple, Sam was only focused on the fevered senses of comfort which had been deep-rooted in his chest since arriving back home.

The babbling waters had called him out to the docks just the same as they did when he was small. And following that nostalgia, Sam felt the ghost of supper on the stove. Turns out his fucked up Avengers mind could still remind himself to be home before the porcelain plates hit the table. No longer his Mama--but Sarah who would be annoyed with him and that was perhaps more threatening. He thought as his tiny radio played on.

AJ and Cass had fallen asleep with the gentle nudge of a fuzzy re-run of ‘Whose Line is it Anyway?’ and the promise of a hot meal when they awoke. Sam’s absence would be noticed very soon.

‘Sittin' in the mornin' sun

I'll be sittin' when the evenin' comes

Watching the ships roll in

Then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay

Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh

I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay

Wastin' time…’

He swiped salty sweat from his brow and found himself dwelling on the evening, wanting to change the direction of the souring sun. No matter what, Sam always began to mourn the day at around 5 p.m. Everyday could’ve been better. The threat of night’s permanent closure and the bearer of nightmares fermented him with anxiety. He was working on that issue with his therapist.

‘Now I'm just gon' sit, at the dock of the bay

Watchin' the tide roll away, ooh yeah

Sittin' on the dock of the bay

Wastin' time…’

Otis began the famed whistling as Sam leaned back on his hands, palms flat on the warm dock. He felt the movement just before a voice began whistling along behind him. It chirped delicately in Sam’s ear, until the song faded and with it--

Sam turned--Bucky Barnes sing-along.

Bucky grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nice to see you so…” He craned his neck and squinted his eyes. “Lazy.” Even he looked a bit confused by the word choice.

“Thanks…” Sam chuckled.

“I just mean--” Buck paused, scratching down from his chin to his neck. Sam saw that he did that often enough to earn patches of grainy red skin under his facial hair.

Sam smirked, pulling his left thigh up and around from the edge. His eyes simmered Bucky’s blush.

“Have you ever had the time to laze around?” Bucky asked, amazed at his own wondering. “To sit and watch the sun on the water?” He gestured frantically outward. “You’ve been a busy guy...not that I helped you with that any…”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, man. Tracking your ass for Steve reaped some rewards.” He gestured for the man to rest his old bones down next to him and Bucky hesitantly took the offer. His knees cracked with sharp pops all the way down.

“No old man jokes, I swear-”

Sam held up his hands. “I wasn’t planning on it, Bucky.” He glanced at Steve’s old friend and for a moment, couldn’t believe the man of history books and horror stories was ‘sun-setting’ in Sam’s home-town. The orange light caressed his face in the same eerie way it’d done way back at Tony’s funeral.

“Thanks for letting me stay-” Bucky went to rub his chin again. “Not quite separate vacations but…” He chuckled, fading off. It was subconscious, the way Bucky led in with no follow through. He wanted Sam to be the one to initiate the conversation.

But Sam bit his tongue. He deserved to hear what Bucky had to say without having to pull it out himself.

Bucky turned with those doe eyes, tired but with enough energy left to admire his partner. “I hurt you....” He frowned, bitter with himself. “I know that and I’m damn sorry, Sam.” His voice was crisp and steady but his eyes wavered.

Sam sighed, eyes back on the water. “We were getting somewhere, man. And you just…” He flicked his hand out. “Disappeared on me.” He paused.

“I shouldn’t have left you...especially at such an ambiguous time for us.” Bucky stumbled slightly on his words.

Sam took a long blink, remembering the ‘unforgettable’ feeling of being held again. “I’m more hurt by the fact that I got nothing but radio silence from you-” He swallowed. “Past that-” He glanced at Bucky “Thing we had just started. I thought we’d reached a point where we could communicate.” He shrugged with muted emotion. “We were friends.” He added with a slight question in his voice. He watched Bucky’s eyes flicker with guilt.

“If you had given me a heads up, maybe. That’s all.” Sam patted his thigh. “I can understand needing space. I understand that even answering texts can be difficult as hell when your mind feels sick. I’ve been there, Buck. Shit’s hard.” He felt a dark twist in his stomach and tried not to dwell in his own memories. “I don’t hold this against you. I know you’re a good guy.” Sam made sure Bucky looked him in the eye for that particular sentiment. “But you should know how I felt about it. Whatever relationship we end up having; Friends, co-workers, partners-” He flicked his fingers. “I’d hope you’d think about how your decisions affect me.”

They held the next silence for a few minutes, Bucky seemingly taking in what he’d said. “For me, it was like I blinked and you were gone with the wind. I didn’t know how you were doing for months--if you were even okay. But then, out of the blue, you come back and you’re pissed about something that wasn’t about you.” Sam shrugged, feeling a bit lighter for every word he’d been simmering on for weeks.

Bucky grimaced, looking extremely pained. “I’m really sorry, Sam.” He repeated himself with genuine regret. The light around them bled darker. “I let a lot of my intrusive thoughts control me.” He hissed at his own words but quickly moved on. “Part of me let it happen because I’m not sure I could handle a competent hand on the wheel. I’ve lived as the...Winter Soldier longer than Bucky, you know-? And Holy shit that’s something I try not to perceive.” He turned, hoping he wasn’t over-sharing. “It’s terrifying to think it’s just in my nature...being destructive. I’m always nervous-” He paused again. “Not that I’m going to hurt someone--but the feeling that I need to will bleed back into me…” His voice faded off again as he picked at a loose string on his jeans.

“This is something you’re talking about in therapy, right?” Sam quirked his brow, needing the answer to be yes but the distant pain in his head reminded him that he dodged plenty of shit from his therapist.

Bucky nodded and before Sam could speak again, asked the question he’d been aching to for months. “I want to go back to you-”

“Of course you do.” Sam chuckled.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “How have you been, really?”

Sam thought for a minute. “Working myself to death, mostly.” He laughed, though it didn’t sound happy at all. “Been seeing Sarah and the boys as much as I can…”

The sky purpled, darkness bleeding into the orange hues. The stars would soon be visible and Bucky was almost positive Sam would now push the question off, neglecting the details. For as much as he complains that Bucky doesn’t talk about himself enough, Sam often avoids voicing his own feelings.

“Sarah was swamped and anxious, despite what she says-”

“And what were you feeling, Samuel?” Bucky playfully tapped his friend’s knee with a smug grin.

Sam rolled his eyes but grinned slightly at the familiar teasing. He wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words so he turned back to the water. “Thought a lot about the soul stone, actually.” The sentence rolled casually off his tongue but did nothing to relieve the stress it’d been causing him.

Bucky tried to remain stoic but a glint of concern shined over his eyes. The infinity stone felt somehow personal between them. Though nobody had memories of their time dusted, Sam and Bucky came out with a new sense of intimacy for each other. It was as if something happened in those 5 years, which felt like only a brief nap to them and in that blip, they’d connected. Falling together was comfortingly natural after that.

“My last thought before I...dusted, was ‘Maybe I’ll get to see Riley.’ ” Sam whizzed his palm in the air, voice breaking slightly and definitely against his will.

Bucky’s heart twitched. They’d gone dancing in the evening after Tony Stark’s funeral. It was the most blissful Bucky’d ever been and he’d spent the night in Sam’s hotel room doing the most talking he’d ever spoken. Nothing physical happened nor did either man think of it, they were too busy soaking up all the information they could get from the other before the night ended. They could truly get to know each other for the first time.

Bucky went on about his family, as much as he could remember anyway. Sam talked of his parents; Paul and Darlene and eventually trailed his way to Riley.

Sam halted his next thought for a few minutes because it was damn hard to illustrate. “I know we weren’t actually dead-” He rolled his lips together “Or maybe we were, still not clear on all that.” He sighed into another little laugh. “But I just want a few more minutes with him...you know?”

Bucky nodded, giving him a ‘go on’ expression.

“I guess our souls were floating around in the stone but--” He broke off, looking down at the water. “For five years, Both our names were on gravestones and in all that time, I couldn’t just see or feel him one time?” Fists now clenched into tight fists. His body language was horrifyingly angry, contrasting the deep despair that was the expression on his face. He was almost sure that none of his words made sense, they’d been jumbling around in him for months like a virus and to be regurgitated so suddenly felt...messy.

The radio, which Sam had long forgotten about, continued to roll-out soft volume static above glimpses of songs. “Fuck, Sam--” Bucky squinted towards the sky, taking in the brief glance into Sam’s head. “I know exactly what you mean…” He turned quickly, admiring Sam’s presence as his adoration for the man thumped like the heart-beat in his chest. “I always figured I’d never get that peace with my family...but I always assumed it’d be for some iteration of Hell.” He rubbed his palm against his neck and laughed.

Sam elbowed him lightly, forcing Bucky to find his words again.

“Knowing--through you and how I feel about you--” Bucky gestured between them. “That I had a mellow...impermanent afterlife(?) yet still didn’t get to see my family...well it feels like I was cheated.” He shrugged.

“I don’t think your soul’s going anywhere bad, Buck. Don’t know what happens after we’re gone for good but you’re not ditching me again.” He drifted off, feeling a sudden unbearable disappointment. “Nat’ll be there too.”

Bucky took in a breath, enjoying the tickling static of Sam’s hand. “Riley too, don’t worry about that, ok?” He tapped Sam’s hand. “I think, when we go back into the weeds and the dirt--”

“That’s a tender way of putting it, Bucky.” Sam blinked, trying not to put himself in an internal coffin because he was significantly chilled now.

Bucky smiled. “I think we get the peace of nothing. Just a return to nature with the souls of those we loved.” He rubbed his finger into the corner of his eye like a grandpa and sighed. “I’ve seen and experienced a lot of the Heaven/Hell folklore in my life and I’m not crazy about it, Sam” He wagged his finger and Sam pushed him slightly with a nice feeling of content.

“We can only comfort ourselves, nothing greater will do it for us. So we write ourselves a multitude of fiction that may, or may not, ease us into accepting death.” Sam bumped their elbows together and eyed a distant bird as it darted across and just above the water.

“I’m glad whatever it was that happened between us in that stone, happened.” Bucky added sheepishly. Turning to look at his partner under the increasingly vivid stars, Bucky hiccupped as a huge wave of affection hit him. “Cause I really like you, Sam.”

"But don't discredit yourself. It wasn't just the stone that magically brought us together--" Bucky lightly pushed Sam's bicep. "I-...I can't begin to explain how much it means to me that you made an effort to be my friend...even during the last few months of me ghosting you and not listening to you about the shield. You didn't have to do that."

Somewhere supper was threatening to get cold and Sarah was playing their meals with a concerned frown, Sam just knew that sister of his too well. He hoped to scrap together just a bit more time. "What can I say?" He smiled "I like you too. People need people, Buck. I wasn't gonna sit back and let you cut yourself off."

Bucky laid back on the dock, laying his palm flat to his chest. He repeated the phrase over and over in his head. 'People need people.' "Goes both ways, you know Sam?" He spoke with deep confidence but continued to laze on the dock, trying to find an angle where the sun was blocked and he could stare up at Sam. “Meaning, I hope you’ve been letting Sarah help you out...and seeing your therapist.”

Sam gently smacked his hand atop Bucky’s like a comforting beat of thunder. “Giving my best effort.” He nodded thoughtfully.

Bucky fluttered his eyes with the pace of his heart. “This is the first time I’ve seen you so...still, Wilson.”

Sam tossed his head back and laughed, knowing Bucky had hit the nail on the head with that one. The back of his neck cooled as he watched the slates of wood under them pale. The glimmers of tired orange light died and vapid pastel-white tones took their place, nestled in the cracks. Part of him wanted to disagree though he hadn’t the spirit. “I don’t like relaxing because it gives me too much time inside myself.”

Bucky nodded, encouraging Sam to go on. Fearing the man would never pick it up again if he suddenly decided to close himself off again.

“There’s too much to do...I feel like I don’t deserve it.” Sam shrugged, a clear illustration of his frustration. He’d definitely pulled this thread a few million times in his life.

“Don’t deserve it?” Bucky sat up just a little, resting on his forearms, he slanted his head as if the adoring smile was just too heavy. “C’mon Doll--” He cut himself off a bit too late.

“Slipping back into old habits, huh?” Sam rolled his eyes but waved a dismissive hand. “You’re cute.” He teased, shoving the guy gently.

Bucky played along, pretending Sam had used enough of that strength of his to knock him back onto the dock. “I think now is a great time for a few days off Sam.”

The man hummed, thinking about the public...what they expected of their new ‘Captain America’ and what the flicker of the new spot-light in his favor revealed about those who loved Steve for all the wrong reasons. Knowing, as a black man, he’d have to go above and beyond all those assumptions just to garner the same amount of respect they gave Steve. The anger he felt from that was righteous but god forbid he show any sense of hurt because then he’d just be labeled ‘ungrateful’ and ‘giving people grief’. He rubbed under his eye with a longing sigh. “I can’t really afford that right now, Buck.”

His body shivered as he tried to push away the intrusive images; Walker slamming into the man over and over without hesitation, thick puddles of blood covering his shield, carrying Karli’s lifeless body over an audience where half of the people celebrated her death...perceiving and exploiting her as another ‘super-villain’.

“Hey.” Bucky softly sat up and pulled Sam’s elbow until their eyes met. “I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” He didn’t pull away, instead hesitantly he curled his hand around Sam’s arm. His fingers pressed dimples into Sam’s skin. Bucky nestled there and his friend exhaled a little, unclenching his body.

“It’s daunting.” He nodded to himself before tipping his chin to face Bucky. “A bucket doesn’t hold a tidal wave but that’s all I got.” He shrugged, noticing Bucky’s quirked brow. “Something my dad used to say...meaning there’s too much to say so I gotta give you a shitty summary, you know?” He shook his head.

“I know I’m one to talk but try using more words...buzz-words if you have to.” Bucky looked momentarily proud of his modern vocabulary and squeezed Sam’s arm tighter.

Sam chuckled. “Let’s say...nerve-wrecking.” He added, bumping his elbow into Bucky’s side. “With all that’s happened...I’m worried--” He landed on a word he felt comfortable with. “Being Captain America...it’s heavy on my shoulders, man. I know I can do it, I trust myself when it comes down to the wire. I hold myself to my standards.” He trailed off again, listening to distant sounds of kids skipping rocks across the water. “I know where this job’s going to take me and I’m ok with that, glad to do it.” He looked back at Bucky with determined eyes.

“I’m not concerned with my fate.” Another deep breath racked his body, he wasn’t used to being so utterly serious with his current company. “I think about how it ended for Tony and I worry about the kid--”

Bucky nodded, He’d only briefly been aware of Stark’s ‘surrogate’ son and spoke a handful of words to him at the funeral, Sam and Wanda at his side.

Sam rubbed his neck with his free hand, feeling intense pressure all over his body. All his limbs tingled as if they were asleep. He’d not realized the true extent of how much this had been eating away at him. Speaking of eating, dinner was for sure cold by now…“Met his Aunt at the funeral.” She’d been proud of her boy but behind her eyes lived guttural fear, Sam knew that much. “I’m thinking about Rhodey because I sure as hell know the pain of losing your best friend.”

Bucky tightened his grip on Sam even further. He’d lost Steve so many times but the time had come for the permanent end and by then...well had they even felt like best friends anymore?

“I can’t even figure out what’s going on with Wanda.” Sam clicked his tongue with a bitter chuckle. “Girl’s doing her best to stay off the grid and I can’t imagine that’s good for her. I know Torres can handle himself but I wonder if I should be helping him more. Not to mention Bruce. What the hell is his mental state right now?” He added with a confused wave of his hand. “I’m even worrying about Scott!” Sam rubbed at his eyebrow and sighed. “This is all beside Sarah and the kids, who I’m constantly thinking about.” He laughed, voice strained and tired.

Bucky waited a few seconds, just to make sure Sam had finished. In that short moment, his heart swelled for him. “You’re a good person, Sam. But you’re only one man.” He shook him just a little bit. “Truthfully, You’ll always be concerned for them. It’s just in your nature. Don’t fight the intrusive thoughts...accept their presence and remember you’ve got a team.” Bucky trailed off, going over what he’d just said again in his head.

Sam’s shoulders sank with another deep sigh. “Thanks, Buck.” He swiped his hand down his face and noticed how much lighter he felt.

Bucky responded physically. He tugged Sam down with him as he laid back on the dock, shoulders bumping together harmoniously which sent chills through Bucky’s entire body. The good kind...maybe the amazing kind. Hell, they tingled under his skin just about every moment he spent with Sam. That deeply buried fear that he might spend the rest of his life making himself excruciatingly uncomfortable in his own body, trapped under his skin which was always crawling, faded from the realm of possibility each time Sam’s presence flushed Bucky with comfortable jitters.

“You’re getting good taste, by the way-”

Bucky only squinted at him, still half in deep thought. So Sam started Otis’s whistling again and watched his friend realize what he was talking about. His nose scrunched up while he nodded.

“How do you decide what to listen to?” Sam turned, they were nearly nose-to-nose. “I mean, how do you narrow it down when you’ve got decades to catch up on?” Sam’s mind flickered through artists like a jukebox--which was 1 thing he’d always wanted to buy, a real old school one.

Bucky shifted his jaw, making an eerie click, a precursor to his amused grin. “I made a list of artists I remember liking before…” He waved his hand, turning slightly to watch the dewey clouds cover the moon. “And the periods in-and-out of being frozen...I have a list of what I remember by decade-” He chuckled.

Sam sat up on his forearms. “I’d like to see these lists. The record set-up in Sarah’s living room is not a decoration, you know? It’s almost as great as mine back in D.C.” He grinned, thinking about the days, so far gone now. Mama and Sarah dancing around the kitchen.

“It really faded off during the 80’s.” Bucky pushed up to level himself next to Sam. “And not that I’ve had much time, mind you--” he laughed. “But from there, I just follow what I’m fond of like family trees and consider the few recommendations I’ve collected.” He trailed off, starting to do the Otis whistle again.

Sam let him follow through to the end, anticipating the tender connotations of the song to come after this day ended. “Out of all these decades...who are your favorite artists? Just curious.” Sam grinned. The answer to this question spoke loudly about a person, in his opinion.

Bucky looked thoughtfully content with the question, grin cocking a bit to the right as he held out his fist above him. “I’d have to say...Ella-” He flicked out a thumb, no last name necessary. Sam knew that woman like the back of his hand.

“Nat King Cole-” Bucky softened his eyes, searching again for that unforgettable memory in Sam, and smiling when the expression was reciprocated in his eyes which shimmered like sunlight through the trees. “Roy Orbison.” Two more metal fingers curled down. “John Denver and Billy Joel.” He let his hand fall back to his chest, satisfied for only a few seconds. “But I really love Judy Garland too.”

“So you like the mellow ballads--” He hummed. “Slow and kinda sad, huh?” Sam bumped his arm lightly. It made good sense to him. Bucky enjoyed the peace which came effortlessly from lone singer-songwriters. His five--or rather six--showed a natural progression.

“What about you?” Bucky asked, in a calm tone of voice though his eyes read eager.

“Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke, The Drifters…” Sam paused, really thinking over his picks. “Earth Wind and Fire, Linda Ronstadt and since you got a bonus...Billie Holiday.” Sam rested his palm flat on his chest, content to feel the steady beating that let him know he was still alive. A rich sense of comfort rushed over him as if a fresh load of laundry had just been dropped on his still body. There’d been too many days in his life where that buried thumping was only a reminder of non-stop existence, like a neverending rollercoaster. Installing him with dread, guilt and panic. He was glad to find those days fewer and farther between.

“You make me feel like I’m livin’ in a Drifters song, Doll.” Bucky was only half teasing, for he was speaking a genuine thought but wasn’t sure how welcome it’d be.

“I like that one.” Sam hummed, turning his cheek once more toward the man beside him. “Tell me how you really feel.” He hiked himself up fully to return to his seated position, legs dangling over the side and casting faint shadows of foot-steps on the water.

Bucky paused with concern, not sure he understood the reply before he processed it fully. He wanted to smirk but the sentiment out-weighed the amusement. He sat up too, pulling one knee up to rest an arm over while the other dangled next to Sam’s. “I got it bad, Sam.” He made their wandering eyes meet.

“Me too.” Sam nodded with that dazzling grin. “You’re under my skin, what can I say?” He shook his head and tried to let his smile fade, finding he couldn’t.

“If they weren’t gone...I’d be buggin’ you to meet my family.” Bucky ignored the twist in his gut because Sam’s reactions were his comfort. “Though who’s to say how they’d feel about the….” He trailed off and Sam nodded. “You being a fella part of it--”

“A fella of color, too.” Sam added with a bit of a smirk.

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed quietly and playfully tugged Sam’s hand. They curled their fingers together in an exquisitely natural way. “They loved me…” His face stilled with longing. “I’d like to think--But maybe it’s best not to go down that road. I don’t believe I turned out how they’d wanted anyway.” He chuckled, pitfully.

Sam tightened their grip on each other for a minute. “I know what you mean.” He bumped their folded hands onto Bucky’s thigh. “I’m always wondering what my parents would think of all this…” He flicked his free hand. “My career?” He almost wanted to laugh with astonished pride. Never had he expected to grow up to be a superhero. “Riley too.” He felt there was more to say but his mouth fell shut.

“Just a way to hurt ourselves, I guess.” Bucky shrugged. “And we sure as Hell love to do that.”

They laughed, sort of sadly. The full night sky enriched them with gentle peace, strengthened by the soft light of the stars. The temperature dropped considerably since Sam had initially come out. But he didn’t mind the nice chill, it braced his skin and left him with tingling goosebumps. It reminded Sam how real the moment actually was. Paying less attention to the hearty sloshes of water, Sam picked up his radio.

‘Come a little bit closer

Hear what I have to say

Just like children sleepin'

We could dream this night away…’

He might have heard the song before, couldn’t be sure, and if he was alone he might have continued flipping stations just in case an older favorite was slipping through his fingers. But Bucky began to hum with the tune.

‘But there's a full moon risin'

Let's go dancin' in the light

We know where the music's playin'

Let's go out and feel the night…’

Sam gathered himself up from the creaky dock, stretching his body little by little and watching Bucky’s wandering eyes. He gently held out his hands which was enough of a sign for Bucky to happily grab them and pull himself up.

Sam shoved the radio in his pocket with a smile and though Bucky was more than just pleased to see him so jovial, he also felt a flicker of nervousness. “Man...for the first time in a while, I feel lucky as Hell.”

‘Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon…’

Sam raised his brow and initiated the first few dance steps with his partner hardly noticing the movement at all. “How’s that?”

“I’m lucky to be in love with someone I like so much.” Bucky puffed out a relaxed sigh with his words and finally leaned into the dancing with real vigor. “Sam, I’ve never wanted to spend my life with someone as badly as I do with you.”

Wind whistled past their shoulders but Sam felt perfectly warm. He let Bucky take the lead and allowed himself to be spun. The cool light of the moon acted as a highlighter, beams of translucent white caressed the shape of Sam’s body. Following the curve of his hips and sliding down the length of his legs. “Growing old with you...becoming a cranky old man couple, that sounds like fun.” He spoke as if he hadn’t had true fun in years which was probably true.

A bush fondly bloomed under Bucky’s skin. Behind his fluttering eyelashes, Bucky indulged for once in his life. To drink in all that was this man in front of him.

However Sam’s eyes were now focused on a cupped hand, which had somehow slipped from Bucky’s, where a yellow toned light would flicker every few seconds. Whenever the yellow light skimmed his face, he would grin with pure joy.

“You never caught a firefly before, Sam?” Bucky asked in jest, with a huff of amused laughter.

Sam gently guided the bug into Bucky’s face.

“Oh, fuck! You asshole” Bucky scrunched up his nose and swatted dramatically at his nose. “I change my mind, cancel my idea. Gonna crawl back into the absolute hole that is my apartment--” He playfully backed away from his friend.

Before Bucky could slip the last inch of his skin from Sam’s hand, the man used the full strength of his extended arm to fiercely pull him back and into his chest. Like a damn professional dancer. “I’ve been seeing myself from grief’s eyes for too damn long. Think I’m ready to take control of my own life. I want to be with you.” He playfully grinned. “What about you?”

Bucky glowed in Sam’s arms. “For a long time, I lost my sense of self…” He scratched behind his ear. “But never my fuckin’ point of view.” His voice broke just a little. “I had to see and feel every horrendous thing the Winter Soldier did. “I’ll bear the consequences for the rest of my life and I accept that.” He shook his head. “But I’m ready to accept happiness too. I really want to be with you, Sam.”

Sam nodded, content as he’d ever been. “I think we should get our dinner before Sarah comes to drag us by our ears.”

Bucky pressed a sweet kiss, full of longing and fulfillment. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He laughed, taking Sam’s arm and pulling him down the dock with a spring in both their steps.

‘But now it's gettin' late

And the moon is climbin' high

I want to celebrate

See it shinin' in your eye’

‘Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon’

#sambucky #is this good?#idk #i feel too awful to focus #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #winterfalcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #sarah wilson #my fanfiction #tell me what you think #Marvel Comics #marvel #MCU #marvel fanfiction

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mayraki · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“this is not a goodbye, is an I see you later”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

SERIES MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

who is max belinsky?

a/n: here, have another chapter this week just because I felt like it. hope you like it! :)

summary: Max Belinsky and JJ Maybank are the two troublemakers of Outer Banks. Going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. What would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? One thing is for sure, they didn’t expect this outcome.

“Bitch!” Max yelled to the phone once her best friend picked up the phone call. “I need your help.”

“I like that nickname.” Sam said jokingly. “What’s up?”

“My parents are coming this weekend because it’s their anniversary and I wanted to make something special for them.”

“Aw! You’re the best daughter.”

Max let out a tiny proud smile. “I know.”

“What do you need?”

“I was thinking about doing something small for them, maybe like a fancy dinner at home. Fred is going to be the chef, Cody is going to be the magician so he’s been preparing that all day, can you come and do your magic waitress super talent? I’ll pay you!”

“Bitch! You don’t have to pay me, I’ll do anything for your family. You know that. Count me in.”

“You’re the best! I’ll text you the details, thank you thank you!”

“Do you need help now? I was just texting Kie, she told me she was bored maybe she can help you!”

Max quickly shook her head. “No, don’t worry. I know who am I going to ask already.”

“Oooh, is that someone JJ?”

“What? How did you know?” Max asked confused.

“I’m great at reading people, you know. And I know more than yoooou. Anyway, I have to go, my break is almost over. But, good luck with the lovely boy you have a crush on!”

Max was about to say something but Sam cut the phone call before anything could come out of her mouth. She looked at her phone confused. What did Sam knew?

Max watched how JJ walked out the ocean with the board next to his body. His blonde hair was wet touching his face and his also wet body was shining while the sun was hitting him.

Her heart skipped a beat once he locked eyes with her and a little smile appeared on his face.

“Hellooooo.” She said with a funny tone.

“Helloooo.” He said with the same tone. In their heads, they had the last conversation they both had, and they didn’t want to make it awkward, but it was not nothing what they both talked about. Once they agreed that they were going to see what it was going to take them, that they would just let it happen, they carried one with their lives normally. But the awkwardness was still there.

“Are the waves good today?” She asked.

JJ nodded looking down. “Yeah, dude.” He looked at her with a smile.

“Nice.” The awkwardness was growing on that moment so Max jumped straight into the point. “Are you free today? I need some help with something.”

A little smirk appeared on his face and then nodded. “Yeah. For you, I’m always free.”

“Fred told me to get a type of bread that you can only get here.” Max said once she opened the door to a tiny bakery. “You go there” she pointed with her head at the other side or the store “and I’ll go the other way, let me know if you find it.”

JJ nodded before walking away to the side Max told him to look. “How would I know if I find the right now?” He asked looking around.

“It’s big, and it looks like a braid.”

“Like a braid?” JJ asked turning to her, but Max was as confused as him, so she just shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s what Fred told me.”

On that moment, an old lady walked into the store coming from another room in the back. She looked at Max and then at JJ, before asking with a sweet smile. “Are you two together?”

Max nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

“Oh, you two look lovely then.” She said with an innocent smile.

“What?” Max asked confused.

“You make a really cute and adorable couple, if I can say that.” She let out a tiny smile.

“Oh! You meant together by- oh-” Max was about to correct her but JJ let his arm go around her shoulders.

“Thank you, miss. We appreciate that.”

Max quickly turned to JJ ready to slap his arm and correct the lady, but for some reason she didn’t, because she knew that deep down she liked that their old relationship was back, and the awkwardness was slowly fading away.

After the lady helped them with the bread that they needed, they both walked out the store with bags on their hands while Max was reading the list Fred had made her to check their next destination.

“So...” JJ said and Max turned to him.

“So?”

“I believe that with that woman, there’s two people who told us we look good together. The old couple at the golf course, you remember that?”

Max let out a tiny laugh. “How could I forget? We were real close to talk about an old couple’s sex life. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.” JJ let out a smirk and then looked down with his hands inside his pockets.

“You know what they say, right? Old people are really wise. Maybe we should listen to them, princess.”

“Oh, no no.” Max quickly shook her head. “Don’t start, or I’ll kick your ass.” Max pointed at him but JJ grabbed her finger and moved it away.

“It’s not me who’s saying it! I’m just saying that we should listen to those people, they seem smart.” JJ shrugged his shoulders.

“Right. And since when did you start to listen to old people and follow what they say?”

Max turned to him with a smile, but he didn’t look at her, he just added with a smile “I only listen when I think they’re saying the truth, Max Belinsky.”

“Ready? Ready? Ready?” Cody was asking repeatedly to Max after reading a text from Fred that they were getting closer to the house.

“Cody! If you don’t stop the thing that’s going to be ready is my boot in your ass!” Max yelled taking the plates to the little table they had made on the patio of the house. “Did you check the pasta like Fred told you?!” Max yelled to her brother but the other boy in the house talked for him.

“I did!” JJ appeared on the patio and Max turned to him once the table was finally made. “I was going to let Cody do it but since I saw him almost putting the entire salt thing in the pan, I figured, why not check it myself?” He said and Max let out a tiny laugh.

“And he says I’m the worst cook.” She said. She turned to the table and a little proud smile appeared on her face. “I think everything’s ready.”

JJ walked to get next to her and admire the fancy table Max made with her. “You did good.”

“We all did.” She said quickly and then turned to face JJ. “Thank you, for everything you did today.”

“Hey, don’t mentioning dude. That’s what friend do, right?”

Max nodded. “Friends.”

“Friends.” They both stared at each other and their little smiles they had on their faces. He couldn’t help but look at her lips, and the memory of him tasting them appeared on his mind. That moment felt like ages ago, and he wanted to repeated it again. His hand went to hold hers and slowly touched it, Max looked down, she felt the warmth of his touch and wanted more, but controlled herself.

JJ took some steps closer to her because he needed it, he needed to have that feeling of safety he felt when he was with her. They both wanted to feel it. It was clear for them, but a question was going on on their heads: what kind of friends feel this way about each other?

JJ lifted his other hand to move a hair that was touching her face and then moved to her cheek to slowly and gently caress it. She didn’t want to look up since she knew that once she did, and saw those blue eyes, it was over for her.

“Hey!” Sam yelled walking into the patio but suddenly stopped once she saw Max and JJ, but they quickly walked away from each other. “Oh! Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Sam asked innocently.

They both shook their heads quickly. “No, no.” Max said. “I’m glad you’re here!” Max walked to her friend to give her a tight hug.

“Glad to be here helping you!” Sam said but then turned to JJ who walked closer to them.

“I’m going to help Cody with what’s left to do.” He said with a smile before giving Max a little look and then leaving the patio behind.

Sam turned back to Max with a smirk on her face. “What was that all about?”

“What was what?” Max asked innocently, even though she knew exactly what her friend meant.

“Don’t play stupid, c’mon, you almost kissed.” Sam pointed to where Max and JJ where seconds ago.

“No we didn’t.” Max shook her head. “You need glasses!” And with that said, she took her tongue out to her friend and walked to inside of the house.

“Yeah, run bitch! You run because you know I’m right!” Sam yelled but it was too late, Max left her sight.

“This has been... wow.” Ben said once him and Gianna finished the dinner they all made for them. “Thank you, thank you all. To JJ and Sam for helping our kids.” He gave a little pat to JJ’s shoulder and JJ responded with a little smile. “We never saw this coming but I’m not surprised that we didn’t, Max has a way of... planning things with nobody ever knowing.” Thy all let out a laughs while Max let out a proud smile.

“That’s my thing, what can I say?” She asked.

“But seriously, thank you. And I guess, this is the time to say some news that we have for you guys.” Ben said and then turned to Gianna, who grabbed his hand.

“What?” Fred asked confused.

“They’re good news. Don’t worry, but we’ve been working on this for quite some time with your mother now, and I guess it’s time to tell you all.”

“Dad, you’re killing me here.” Max said impatiently.

Ben let out a tiny laugh before continuing. “Since your mom is a lot better, we decided that we want to come back to Outer Banks. Move back here, to this house with you guys. We decided that it was time, our hearts belong here in Outer Banks.”

“What?” Cody asked excited.

“Are you guys serious?” Max said surprised. She unintentionally grabbed JJ’s hand but without looking at him, she was so shook that she didn’t even notice, but JJ did. He looked down at their hands holding and then went back to Max, he couldn’t help it, a little smile excaped his lips.

“That’s not it. I talked to an old friend of mine, we got to talking and came with the agreement that he would like the help me get the store back.” Ben said and a big smile appeared on his face.

“What? That’s amazing!” Fred said and the Belinsky family united to make a big hug.

“Come here you two!” Gianna said waving at Sam and JJ. They both walked over to the hug with smiles on their faces. JJ felt his chest get some feeling he never felt before, but he remembered the last time he felt something similar, the first time he meet the Belinsky family. The loving family he wanted, that he always wished for, was there with him.

“There’s this thing, though.” Ben said once the hug was over. “I have to come here and prepare everything, for like a month.”

“That’s awesome!” Cody yelled.

“It is!” Ben let out a tiny laugh but then turned to Gianna. “But your mom can’t come here yet, she has to stay at the hospital. And we need one of you two to go there and stay with her.” Ben looked at Fred and Max back and forth.

“I’ll go.” Fred offered himself but Max quickly shook her head.

“No, you have your work. You can’t go, mine it’s not big, I can let go of it.” She said and before Fred could say anything else, she spoke again. “Don’t fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” She said with a smile. “I’ll go, it’s only a month, right?”

“Yes.” Ben said. “You’ll be back two weeks before school starts again.”

“Ugh, we don’t need to talk about that.” Cody complained. “I can’t believe you’re coming back!” He quickly went closer to his mom and gave her a tight hug.

“I’m really happy for you, dude!” Sam appeared next to Max to gave her another hug. “You better call me everyday or I’ll go there myself and kick your ass!” She complained while hugging and Max let out a laugh.

While the Belinsky family was celebrating the good news, JJ stayed back. Of course he was happy for Max and her family, it was great news. But on the back of his head he had the though of not seeing Max for a whole month, and that sucked. He didn’t want to think that since she was going to be back and this was huge good news for everyone, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of Max leaving and doing something else, maybe forgetting about him... he couldn’t bare it.

“I guess we have another thing to celebrate!” Max said with a smile.

“We do!” Gianna said but then grabbed Max’s hand to pull her face closer to hers and then whispered. “But first, I think there’s someone who wants to talk to you.” Gianna looked behind Max and that’s when Max turned to see JJ standing in the corner with his hands in his pockets while looking down.

She slowly walked closer to him and when she was close enough, he looked up and a little smile appeared on his face. “That’s good news.” He said.

“They are.” Max nodded. “Hey..” she turned her head around to see her family and then went back to JJ. “Can you come to the front porch for a second?” She asked and JJ quickly nodded, before both of them left the patio and the family behind. “I just wanted to say thank you again, for everything you did today. It means a lot to me, more than you know.” Max said once they were both standing outside.

“It was nothing. Your family is like the one I never got.” JJ admitted. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m pretty sure my parents really like you. And I’m a 100% sure Cody likes you, even more than he likes me.” Max nodded and JJ let out a tiny laugh.

“He’s a good kid.”

“So are you.” Max slightly pushed JJ’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t ruin my title, I’m the bad guy.”

Max quickly shook her head while letting out a laugh. “You wiiiiish.”

They both stayed in silence after little laughs coming out of their mouths bacame the only thing surrounding them. He looked down at her lips and then went back to her eyes, before saying softly “I’m going to miss you.”

Without hesitating, she shook her head with a smile. “Oh, no you won’t. I’m going to call you everyday to annoy you. I can’t let that go.” She said jokingly.

JJ let out a tiny laugh. “I don’t think I could ever find you annoying, Max Belinsky”

“Too bad, because I find you annoying, JJ Maybank.”

“Lieeees!” JJ let out a smirk. “You loooove me.”

“Shut up!” Max let out a tiny laugh. “You loved me first.”

“You can’t deny it now, I win.”

“Again? It’s not a competition!” Max slapped his arm and he let out a loud laugh.

“It can be! John B told me the other day that you were a better surfer than me and I can’t let that happen.” JJ quickly shook his head.

“He said that? Then he’s fucking right.” Max nodded proudly.

“Uh uh, we still have that competition we never did.”

“Don’t waste your energy, I’ll win.”

“Is that a bet Belinsky?” JJ asked with a smirk.

“Ooooh, bring it on Maybank.” She took her hand so he could shake it. They both shook hands while facing each other with their eyes locked up. The shake because slower but they didn’t want to let go of the other’s hand. JJ looked down to her lips again and without thinking about it, with his free hand grabbed her waist to pull her closer.

Their faces were almost touching, they were both looking at each other’s lips when JJ started to caress her waist with his thumb. He let go of her hand to grabbed her cheek and pull her face even closer.

“Friends?” Max asked almost in a whisper.

“Friends.” JJ nodded before quickly closing the space that was between their faces and uniting their lips.

Like the times before, their lips fitted perfectly. They loved how the other tasted but it was like every time they kissed it was the first time. Their need of each other that was showing on the kiss was enormous. He let go of her cheek to wrapped his both arms around her waist, while her arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling them even closer when the kiss became faster. Some people think that two people who want to be in control could be dangerous... and their were right. JJ and Max both were in control but it worked for them, moving their lips in the same rhythm while their tongues were playing with each other. The kiss was now warm so they started to feel it on their bodies, getting hotter and hotter while the seconds passed. It was by far, their favorite kiss that they have had together.

Because they needed to take a breath, they broke the kiss but without opening their eyes they touched their foreheads while trying to take their breathing back to normal.

“I’ll definitely won’t forget that, Belinsky.” JJ said with heavy breathing.

“I told you, Maybank, I’m pretty unforgettable.”

@iamaunicorn4704 @onceinagenerationrage @lasnaro @k-k0129 @x-lulu @oopsiedoopsie23 @baby-pogue @roamingmarauder @ponyboys-sunsets @agirlwholovescoffee @thorsangel @royalmerchant @deviouscharitos @badbitsh13 @cilorawr @mdlyncline @ilovejjmaybank @corebore123 @starksweasley @allycat449-blog @netflix-imagines @alwaysasadaesthetic @queenofthepouges @jjsmaybcnk @sexytholland @xoxoalxssa @sadcupofcoffee @strawberrydonkey @allielozoya @jjandreidsgirl @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @nevvvv @drewswannabegirl @outerbanksbro @itsyagirljay @alw4ysmaybank @mrsromangodfrey @kay667 @casper17 @jarahisendgame @niya-savage @scooby6 @dustyjjumpwings @sweetlysilent @alternativehp @stilinskingongo @renatafairchild @stfukie @chasefreakinstokes @beloved-vinyl-addict (+)

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

*************

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

**************

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.