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midnightsnyx · 1 year

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what if i told you (i love you) part 2 - joel miller

pairing: joel miller!fem reader

chapter summary: when joel and ellie's stay turns out to be longer than expected, you have to figure out how you're going to deal with having him around. word count: 1.9k warnings: insinuated smut, angst, mentions of death, mentions of abortion, little bit of fluff(?), and ellie being a cool big sister! let me know if i missed anything please. also this isn't edited lol sorry authors note: GUYS!!!! WHAT THE HECK! thank you all so so so much from the very bottom of my heart for all the love on the story. comments, reblogs, and likes feed my angsty writing soul <3 y'all are the best! please take caution to the warnings for this chapter and read safely <3 if anyone wants to send thoughts, suggestions ect, here is my ask box. and lastly, if you want to be added to my tag list please fill out this super short form here <3 oh one more thing! I know last chapter was in past tense but I hate writing that unless I’m doing flashbacks so from now on, it’s all present tense unless I do a flashback

masterlist what i write series masterpost

Boston 2018

The first time you could blame it on the bad liquor. The second time, you could say it was the adrenaline from nearly getting killed by a pack of clickers but the third time you found yourself underneath Joel Miller, there was nobody to blame but yourself. You’d been working with him and Tess for a couple years and always thought the two of them were together. However, while on a supply run with just Tess about a year after you met them, you discovered that while there was an initial attraction, things were strictly business between them. You really had no plans to deal with the man further than supply runs and trades but after you had a taste of what could be, you didn’t want to go without.

You knew that things weren’t exclusive and never would be. It was simply a way for the both of you to blow off steam in this shitty world so after you missed your period not once, but twice, you realized that things might be more complicated than you had planned. Approaching Joel about the situation was not something you were looking forward to so you confided in Tess, who after scolding you, said you had two options. She knew a person who “took care of these problems” and could get your situation resolved with little to no damage or you could do what she thought was unfair, and bring a new life into the world that had become so cruel, most didn’t want to live anyway. You weighed your options for about a week, avoiding Joel whenever he tried to get you alone because all you wanted to do was blurt out that you were pregnant to get it off your chest but somehow, you knew how he would react.

Everybody had lost someone during the outbreak and although it was never confirmed by Joel, you knew he’d lost a child. Somewhere inside you, there was a small hope that maybe this tiny little life inside you could help fill some of the void but it was smashed when you eventually told him.

His cold expression and cold words were hurtful but not unexpected.

“How could you be so careless?”

You’d argued with him for over an hour, the whole “it takes two to tangle” argument but eventually you had enough and told him if he wanted nothing to do with it, this was the time because you weren’t going to wait around forever. So when his last words to you were “leave”, you decided then and there that you were done with Joel Miller. You’d waited a few weeks after Tess asked you to even though you knew that he wouldn’t come around. The day you left, you said goodbye to Tess, telling her where you planned to go and told her if Joel asked about you, not to tell him anything. If you could help it, you planned to never see Joel again.

Jackson, Wyoming 2023

Much to your dismay, Joel is at the dining hall the next morning. He’s sitting with Tommy and Ellie but you can feel his eyes on you while you watch Jack eat his breakfast. It’s like a repeat of yesterday, only this time you’re worried that Hazel may have actually poisned his food. She grumbled when he walked in the doors but didn’t say much.

Ellie eventually makes her way over to where you and Jack are sitting, shyly asking if she can sit with you and play with Jack. You hesitate but Jack gives you puppy eyes and you can never say no to him. Some of his facial expressions always reminded you of Joel but with the man actually being here now, you’re noticing it much more. You look over at him and his eyes are locked on the three of you sitting together so you look back at Ellie.

“So…” you begin, waiting for her to look up at you and when she does, you can see the mischievous look in her eyes.

“You’re gonna ask me about Joel,” she grins, “y’know, he was talking to Tommy about you last night. They thought I was asleep but there was a lot of yelling.”

“What exactly were they saying?” you ask, and she looks back at Jack, taking the piece of food he offers her.

“I dunno, Joel was grumpy that Tommy didn’t tell him that you were here but Tommy told Joel that you didn’t want him to know,” she says, “he’s always grumpy though, so that’s nothing new.”

You weren’t planning on asking her but you’re dying to know how exactly Joel ended up dragging a teenager all the way to Wyoming.

“What’s the deal with you and Joel?” you ask, “not a long lost kid, are you?”

She just laughs and shakes her head, “nah, I mean he acts like a dad but he’s just fulfilling a request from someone. I’m just cargo.”

She says it non-chalantly but something in her expression changes, so small you barely notice. It’s there though but before you can question her further, she turns the tables back to you.

“What the deal with you and Joel? I mean, clearly the kid is his… did he-”

“Ellie,” a voice cuts in and you both jump, not noticing that Joel somehow snuck up on the both of you. Before either of you can answer, a little voice speaks up.

“Hi,” Jack says, waving at Joel who once again, looks shocked that there’s a child there. The boy offers him a handful of mushed up fruit and you watch as Joel hesitantly accepts it.

You’ve watched Joel take down countless clickers and raiders so it amuses you that a toddler scares him.

Jack takes a loud slurp of his water and tries to hand it to Joel before you take it from him, rolling your eyes. Ellie is watching the interaction with amusement and you can even see Tommy from across the hall, watching closely.

“Who’re you?” Jack asks, trying to pass Joel more food. You take his plate, ignoring his grumbling. Another thing that Jack does that reminds you of Joel are his mood swings. Some days he is a chatterbox and others, you can barely get a peep out of him. Those days, he reminds you of Joel.

When Joel looks at you, this time with panic written across his face, you shrug. You’re beginning to find this amusing because who knew all it would take is a toddler to break the big Joel Miller.

“Ellie, I have to go with Tommy for a bit. Don’t leave the four walls of this town,” he points at her when she raises her hands in defense, “I told Maria to keep an eye on you.”

“Don’t worry old man, I think I’ll hang out with these two,” she tells him but then shyly looks at you, “if that's alright.”

You nod and watch as her face lights up. She goes back to talking to the little boy sitting next to her and you look at Joel who is shifting uncomfortably.

“Uh, thanks,” he mumbles without looking at you before quickly walking back to Tommy. You watch the two of them leave, the older man casting one more glance you way before his brother pats him on the back firmly.

“He’s got it bad for you,” Ellie says absently, “like real bad. Were you two like, together?”

You stare at her for a solid minute, wondering where the hell this kid came from. Was she this blunt before? Or has Joel corrupted her?

“It’s complicated, and a long story.”

“Is it longer than a week? ‘Cause I think that’s how long we’re staying,” she says and you hide a frown. You’re still trying to find out exactly why they’re here and now you find out they’re only staying a week? You can’t decide if you are relieved or disappointed.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” You offer, wanting to get out of this conversation because talking about your non existent relationship with Joel to a 14 year old is at the bottom of your to-do list. “Jack likes seeing the sheep and horses.”

Ellie grins and you can’t help but smile when she offers her hand to Jack who accepts it eagerly. You can tell she’s trying to fill a void and you’re beginning not to mind.

. . .

Later that night after Jack is long asleep, you sit outside on your porch wrapped up in a winter jacket and blanket. It’s cold but you need some fresh air to try and get your thoughts straightened out. Ellie tried to bring up yours and Joel’s history multiple times but eventually gave up on it once she realized you weren’t going to say anything. You haven’t seen Joel since this morning, spending the day with Ellie and Jack, then eating dinner and dropping the girl off at the house she and Joel are staying at before going back to your own and putting your kid to bed.

Joel showing up out of the blue is bringing back too many memories, some good but some bad.

Suddenly, a voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you curse Joel Miller again for sneaking up on you. Being in Jackson so long is making you let your guard down too much.

“Hey,” he says, standing at the bottom of your porch steps awkwardly, “the kid gone to bed?”

Small talk. He is trying to make small talk.

“What do you want, Joel?” You ask shortly, half wanting to leave before he says anything else but if he is seeking you out, you want to know what he is looking for from you.

“I, uh, I wanted to say thanks,” he says stumbling over his words, “for entertaining Ellie today. She was real pleased-”

“I didn’t do it for you,” you snap, “she’s a good kid.”

He just nods, staring at the ground and scuffing his boots on the dirt. You watch as he clears his throat and looks up at you, a sadness in his eyes that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen.

“Tess is gone,” he says, and even though you had your suspicions since she’s not with him and he travelling all the way here, his words feel like a punch in the stomach.

“How?”

“She got bit on our way here,” he tells you and you just nod, swallowing back tears. Six years ago, you might’ve let him comfort you but all you want now is to yell or scream at him. Ellie wouldn’t tell you why they were here or why she was with Joel and you know you won’t get anything out of him. You know the only reason for his late night visit is to break the news about Tess.

When you stand up, his mouth opens to protest but he just offers you the closest thing he has to a smile. It’s pitiful.

You turn to walk inside but his voice stops you. Refusing to look at him, you pause but stay facing the door.

“He seems like a good kid,” he says quietly and you know he’s referring to Jack.

There’s a million things you can say to him, you can turn around and yell or scream at him. You could ask him why? Why did you push me away when I needed you? Why didn’t you want Jack? What hurt you so bad, that you couldn’t accept him?

Instead, you walk inside your house and close the door behind you.

. . .

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#joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller reader insert #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #allies writing

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

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Trust and Intuition Chapter 3- The Rebels

Din Djarin x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 3.2k

Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Din, soft!Din, feelings, we learn about reader’s backstory, drama, leading up to action

Notes- This is the biggest change to this story in this rewrite. I basically re wrote this part from scratch, save for 2 little scenes (the kiss and the last exchange with Din). I also made reader’s backstory more ambiguous compared to what it was in the original. I also added smut because why not lol! Enjoy and thank you for reading!

Fic is tagged if you want to catch up on parts you missed! To stay up to date on when I post, also follow my update blog and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates

“Your highness!” an older man with grey hair and a warm, kind face greeted you the moment the Mandalorian landed the Razor Crest at the rebel base on Durane.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him and you ran towards him with your arms wide, “Sion!” you sighed in relief as you crashed into him, both of you embracing each other tightly, “It’s been too long!” You paused as you pulled away to meet his gaze, “But I told you not to call me that. You’ve known me since before I was a queen, and that’s all I want to be to you.”

Sion grinned at you like a proud father, “You were always a queen to me even before you could walk straight,” he nudged your nose playfully, “And I’ll always be proud of the woman you grew up to be,” his gaze trailed over your shoulder to the Mandalorian and the child who made their way off the ship. Sion looked at you, and when you nodded, he made his way over to him with his hand out, “Thank you, Mando,” he greeted him, “Our transports have been down, and I wasn’t sure how we would get these kids out this time. I’m more in debt to you than you realize.”

The Mandalorian took his hand and shook it, “No debt is necessary,” he said softly as he glanced over to the children who cautiously followed behind him, “Children should always have a place where they are safe,” he glanced down at his own foundling as he spoke.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Sion beamed at him before he addressed the children, “Come this way kids,” he guided them inside, “There’s food and a place to rest your heads for the night.”

The children’s faces lit up as their energy seemed to spark back at the mention of a warm meal and a safe roof over their heads. Gleefully, they bounded inside, following Sion’s lead while you and the Mandalorian tailed behind. Mando couldn’t help but notice the relief on your face as you found yourself in need of safety as well…

“Vero has Dria in a grip,” you spoke at the table where Sion, Mando and you gathered, “At first glance, things seem normal, but there’s more going on than anyone realizes. He’s taking children for Maker knows what, he’s hiding and destroying texts and books, he’s openly allowing stormtroopers in the palace now…” you turned to Sion with a pleading look in your eyes, “We have to do something before the Empire destroys everything Dria stands for.”

Sion sighed as he ran his hand across his face, “What can we do though?” he sounded defeated already, “He has an army. He has the Empire at his back. We number 30 at most.”

“I don’t know,” you exhaled as you dropped your head, “But I think he knows I’m the vigilante…”

Sion breathed your name as concern laced his face. He glanced over at the Mandalorian, “We’ve all lost everything at the hands of the Empire. Families. Friends. We’re all we have left.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mando said.

Encouraged by Mando’s words, you lifted your head up and a fresh conviction was apparent in your eyes, “Everyone thinks the empire is gone, that we won,” you spoke with authority that you learned from your time as queen, “But that’s not true, and I think you know that. They’re all around us, planting seeds that they wait patiently to grow. But it’s our job to stop that. We have to stop their weeds from taking root and growing so big that they choke us and take out our light. I’ve been fighting this nettle since I was small, so have you Sion, and I don’t plan on stopping until either they die… or I do.”

Mando watched with his breath caught in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to think, or even what to do next. All he knew was he wanted to help you and the others. “So what’s your plan then?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

All Mando wanted to do was reach out to you, but he stayed still. His eyes never left you, though.

Sensing the tension, Sion interjected, “How about we rest for the night,” he looked at you with melancholy in his eyes, “I think we all need it especially after what you two have been through.”

The Mandalorian sat alone in the little room he had been given for the night. An empty bowl sat in front of him as he gently guided his helmet back into his head. The silence echoed in the room as he sat alone with his thoughts, wondering what he should do next, and how to keep you and everyone else safe. The image of your face lingered in his mind as he let out a sigh to himself.

But a knock at his door broke Mando out of his thoughts. He quickly stood and opened the door, relieved to find you on the other side. He breathed your name as he stepped aside and allowed you in, “Is everything alright?”

A soft smirk briefly graced your face, “I came by to ask you the same thing,” you glanced over at the empty bowl, “I hope that was ok for you…”

“It’s fine,” Mando cut you off as he moved next to you.

You looked around, “And your kid? The others?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Mando replied, “Your father took all the kids to get something to eat.”

“He’s fine with them,” you reassured the Mandalorian, sensing the concern in his tone, “Sion is the closest thing I have to family left,” you thought out loud.

“I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright,” you interrupted, “We’ve all lost nearly everything to the Empire. We have to hold on to all the family that we can,” you met his vizor, “Otherwise we would all be completely alone. It’s been lonely enough being married to Vero. But the rebels needed a spy on the inside… And it appeared that I was his type…” you let out a deep breath, “Sion almost had a heart attack when I told him I’d do it,” you laughed bitterly, “The sacrifices are worth it though, as king as those kids are safe,” you fired a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes, “Even if I have to do this alone.”

Mando reached out and squeezed your shoulder as he spoke your name, “You’re not alone. As long as I’m here, you’re not alone.” It was then he made a silent promise to himself to protect you, and he realized in that moment just how much you meant to him. He also felt a wave of anger towards Vero and what you must have gone through to remain a spy for the rebels.

You looked at him with wide eyes and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his energy. In his touch, you could feel how he cared. You felt as though the two of you shared a special connection, and you wondered if he felt the same way. Warmth spread across your face as your thoughts turned from your past to your present.

“Do you trust me?” you asked him as you lay your hand on top of his. Nerves pulsed through your veins, but you fingered you only had this one night and it was now or never.

“Yes,” his answer came without hesitation.

You ripped a long piece of fabric off your shirt and wrapped it tightly around your eyes. When it was secure and your vision was completely blocked, you reached up to his helmet. You could feel his gloved hands over yours as he helped you take it off. You listened as he set his helmet down.

When his hand cupped your face, you realized he took his gloves off as well and it was his bare skin against yours. You reached out and felt his chest in front of you, the beskar cold under your touch. You moved your hands up to feel his face. It was warm and you could feel scruff along his jawline. His gaze was fixed on your lips as your hands roamed over his face and into his hair.

He kept one hand on your cheek and his other securely on your waist. Slowly, he pulled you close to him and gently touched his lips to yours. It was a light kiss at first, then you deepened the kiss as you held onto his soft hair. Your tongues danced to a song without music as waves of feelings rushed from the two of you. The kiss spoke more than words could for either of you as both your and Mando’s emotions ran wild.

Reluctantly, you broke away for air, but your faces did not stray far from each other. Mando rubbed his thumb over your cheek tenderly as he studied every inch of your face. He pulled you close again as he rested his face against yours. You held onto him tightly, as if you were afraid he would disappear if you let go. Even though his vision wasn’t blocked, Mando had the same fear.

It was then you heard his voice, “Din.”

“What?” Your voice was just a whisper.

“My name. It’s Din Djarin,” he repeated softly.

With this, you knew how much he trusted you, and it made you realize how much you cared about him. Din held you tightly as you both enjoyed these last few quiet moments together. You were both fully aware of what was to come, and that this may be the last time you would have a moment like this.

Feeling a sudden sense of need, Din pulled you against him as he guided both your bodies back towards the cot that sat in the far end of the room. Trusting him fully, you didn’t resist at all, and you sighed as you felt his strong grip on you.

“Is this ok?” Din asked in a whisper as his lips hovered over yours and his hands gripped at your clothes.

“Yes,” you answered immediately. It was more than ok. It was what you had wanted since he took your hand. And unbeknownst to you, the Mandalorian had the exact same thoughts.

You lifted your arms as he carefully stripped you of your shirt first, then his hands wandered down your body. Goosebumps erupted on your skin at the feeling of his bare hands on you, and you shivered despite feeling warm. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as he stopped and cupped your breasts and soft moans escaped both your lips.

Din then unclasped your pants while you held onto his shoulders and stepped out of them eagerly. His hands landed on your now bare hips as he guided you once more towards the cot. His grab never faltered even as he fumbled backwards onto the cot, bringing you to straddle his waist.

“Fuck,” Din breathed.

You gasped, “What is it?”

“You’re beautiful,” his hands roamed up and down your body, memorizing every inch of you before he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss.

You moaned into his mouth as you parted your lips for him and slowly rocked yourself along his stiffening cock. Even though the fabric, he felt so good underneath you, and you instantly craved more.

“Din,” you whined as you buried your fingers in his hair, “Please… I need you.”

He groaned through gritted teeth as his cock twitched, “I’ve got you,” Din’s voice was low and full of his own need. He kept one hand on you at all times as he fumbled with his own pants, eager to free his cock.

You slipped your hand in between your bodies to help him, and when your hand brushed against his cock, you let out a soft gasp. Din moaned as a pulse was sent through his veins the moment you touched him. And it only grew as you pumped his cock slowly while your lips hovered over his.

“You’re perfect,” he groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head.

“You’re perfect,” you echoed back as you lifted your hips and felt the tip of his cock as your entrance, “Fuck… Din…”

Both of you gasped loudly as you took him inside you. Heat radiated from your bodies as you sunk down on Din’s cock slowly, and both of you clung to each other as if your lives depended on it. Perhaps it felt like they did at that moment.

Once your hips met Din’s and he was fully inside you, engulfed in your warmth, Din tightened his grip on you and slowly thrust his hips as much as he could. Rocking into you from below, Din watched as your mouth dropped open and your breasts bounced from the motion. He was mesmerized as you rocked your hips to match his rhythm, and together the two of you lost yourselves in each other.

Moans and soft sighs escaped both your lips as you rode Din. Your hands stayed on his beskar covered chest as leverage, but you felt safe and secure in his strong grip. Behind the darkness of your blindfold, you saw stars every time his cock sheathed fully inside you and hit that spot that drove you wild.

Din groaned your name as he ran his hands up your back until he cupped the back of your head. Using the leverage, he guided you forward and crashed your lips against his once more in another heated, and this time more desperate, kiss. He swallowed the moan you let out as the new angle hit every sensitive spot inside you.

“Din… I’m…”

“Me too,” he groaned your name as he gripped you harder, “Let go… Cum for me mesh’la…”

With just a few more pumps of his cock, you came with a cry against Din’s lips. Your forehead stayed firmly against his as your release triggered his own as he came hard with a growl. Din wrapped his arms around you and yanked you close as he rocked his hips against yours, riding out both your climaxes together.

Your entire body trembled as you felt Din spill himself inside you. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you until you couldn’t take it anymore and you collapsed down onto his chest. Din immediately held you close as he groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“You alright?” he asked in a whisper as he ran his hands up and down your sides, caressing your body.

“Perfect,” you breathed as you grinned against him, comfortable in his strong embrace.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you laid together in your afterglow. Eventually, you rolled off of Din and you both hissed as his softening cock slid out of you. He never let you go far, though, and he settled you into his arms as you rested your head against his chest. And while both of you were comfortable and content, the tension in the air still lingered as the uncertainty of your future silently hung over your heads.

“Din?” you broke the silence with his name.

“Hm?” he muttered back as his grip tightened instinctively.

“Can we just stay like this for a while longer?” your voice was just a whisper.

“Yes,” Din replied in a soft tone, “As long as you want, mesh’la.”

The next day brought the challenges back as you, Din and Sion met with the rest of the rebels to plan your next move. Din never left your side, and his little green child sat in his pram right next to him. Sion glanced between you and the Mandalorian as if he could sense that something happened between the two of you last night, but he chose not to say anything for the time being. As long as this warrior was willing to stay and keep you safe, he was content for now.

“We’re at a clear disadvantage,” you said, “But there are secret tunnels under the palace that we can use to launch a surprise attack,” you pulled up a holo map of the palace layout and pointed to a shadowed part, “We would need a distraction though… Something to pull the troops away from this wing,” you gentured to the south wall.

“What do you suggest?” Sion asked. He watched over you like a worried parent, though it did not escape his notice the way the Mandalorian never strayed far from your side.

“Vero has a bounty out on the Vigilante,” the smirk in Mandalorian’s voice was apparent as the two of you shared a knowing look, “Why don’t we collect on that?”

“Absolutely not,” Sion raised his hands, “You are not going to be the bait for this. I let you become his wife and be our spy, but I am not letting you put yourself on the line like that again.” He sounded like a worried father as his brows scrunched.

You sighed as you gave him an exasperated look, “What choice do we have, Sion?”

Silence filled the room as everyone waited for him to reply. With a heavy breath, he finally conceded, “None…” he looked down for a moment then back up at you and Mando, “But I’m coming with you then. I’m not letting you face him alone.”

“She won’t be alone. She’ll be safe,” Mando tried to reassure him as his hand brushed against yours.

“Captain,” Sion called to one of the other men, “Let’s get a plan going. We still have some other rebels hiding on Dria, don’t we? Let’s figure out a way to get to them.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt his presence at your side. It was quickly a comfort for you, and you felt more confident with the Mandalorian there. But, as the others chattered about the details of the plan, you glanced at the little one at his side. You felt a connection to the child somehow, and his big bright eyes made your heart flutter.

You furrowed your brows as you asked, “What about the kid?”

The child cooed happily at you in response.

“He stays with me,” the Mandalorian said in a tone that left no room for argument.

“But Mando, it’ll be dangerous,” you protested, “Wouldn’t he be safer here with the other kids?”

“No,” his voice was firm but not harsh.

Your eyes darted around the room as if you tried to look for an answer on the walls or the floor. Everyone else drew a blank, and some looked almost afraid to go against the Mandalorian’s wishes. Then, an idea came to you, “Do you trust me?” you asked him in the same tone you used the night before.

He looked directly at you, “Yes.”

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morguevampire · 11 months

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(Un) Fortunate Encounters - Chapter 6

Masterlist for this fic

summary: Fighting boredom and missing genuine human interactions you make it your mission to find out more about the Baron. He ignores your questions but tension builds up eventually, when you don't stop prying.

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of torture, drinking, mild alcoholism, dark themes, slow build romance, not really Stockholm syndrome but that’s up for interpretation

chapters: 6/?

word count: 1.934k

pairings: Helmut Zemo x fem!Reader

author’s note:

Uhhh, it's been a minute. Whoopsie.

Here's the usual excuses of being busy with uni and real life responsibilities but if we're completely honest I did not really feel like writing and I think I needed a (quite long) break from this story but I am back and i had fun writing this! Wrote this chapter pretty fast, so excuse the mess lol. As usual, english not my first language bla bla bla.

Feedback is always appreciated and THANK YOU to whoever is still reading this and has not given up on me. I have the intention of finishing this... i just need time. But as Zemo said: I have experience. And patience. A man can do anything if he has those.

Muchos besos mis amores <3

You can also find this work on https://archiveofourown.org/works/43158162/chapters/119680711

The more time you spend talking to Zemo, the more intriguing it becomes to find out more about his person. He’s like a closed book, not giving you any more information than is visible on the cover. Little side notes sometimes helping your brain in forming a genuine personality around him. But it feels like a one-sided game. He asks you questions about your family and friends, your hobbies, your feelings and your morals but in return you get almost nothing.

Mentally you make a note to pay extra attention when talking to him. Taking in all the crumbs he gives you about his private life. It almost feels like a game, and it does keep you entertained.

With time you get bolder in returning his questions. Simple little inquires, which aren’t too intimate but when answered could reveal something.

It’s obvious that they annoy him, most times he won’t answer or even leave the room in a sort of nonchalant way which makes you even more curious. As if he didn’t hear you. But his ignorance doesn’t stop you from prying. He’s fast to tell you his values and morals in a general sense, yet he will not go into specifics about his actions or his past.

On one occasion, it was during your dinner-routine, he seemed to be in a particularly chatty mood and gave you quite a few personal insights, so you figured it might just be okay to ask him about his family. You were both indulging in some whiskey and at the beginning it seemed to have lifted some of his secretive nature. You even catch him smiling at one point. Like a full-on laugh. But that changes immediately once you ask him about his son.

“So, what was Carl like? That’s your son’s name right? I think I read it in a news article somewhere?”

The noise of his cutlery clashing against the porcelain plate startle you. You immediately fix your gaze to your own plate, not wanting to look at his furious face and be reminded of the incident in his study. Your intentions were innocent enough but you knew you had overstepped a boundary. Instead of rage or screaming, his eerie soft but sharp voice tells you it’d probably be best to retire for the night. You mumble a quiet “sorry” but he’s already out of the dining room.

With that you’re left alone, food half eaten and the light mood of the evening ruined.

It bothers you. The way his mood changes so dramatically. It was difficult to navigate. On one hand you feel welcomed and heard and safe in his presence and on the other hand you feel like walking on very thin ice around him.

You were also sick of apologizing for asking questions. He seemed to know everything about you, yet you had no idea who the man you were staying with was. For the next day he was nowhere to be seen. Your trust had been broken.

You decide to distract yourself with books and a cup of tea, spiked with rum to ease your nerves. That evening you eat dinner on your own. Sulking in your own stupidity in thinking such a manipulative, egoistic man would open up to you. You still couldn’t even figure out what his intentions with you were. What did he want? Why were you still here? After all, it has been two weeks or so.

Time seemed to fly by when you were in company with either the Baron or Oeznik, but when you were alone it was like living in a never-ending dream. Not necessarily a nightmare, but the sort of dreams that made you feel stuck and anxious.

After dinner you decide to lounge around the living room, nursing a glass of the expensive liquor stashed in a cupboard next to the bookshelves. Alcohol helps pass the time, you figure. You were staring at the words in a random book, absently touching the stitched up wound above your left eye when his voice interrupts your aimless thoughts.

“We should probably take out those stitches. The wound seems healed enough.”

It wasn’t a question or a request. It was a command to get up and follow him into the downstairs bathroom.

He instructs you to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, where he kneels in front of you, unpacking the medical kit which seems to have magically appeared. You feel yourself caught in a sort of haze, intimidated by the situation. You’ve never been this close to the man before.

Perhaps that time in the warehouse where he carried you towards safety but having him in front of you, on his knees, face so close you could feel the ghost of his breath on your cheek not only made you blush, but also tense up.

You try avoiding his keen stare, rather just looking down at your sweaty hands fumbling around nervously.

When you dare to look up for individual short moments you notice light freckles on his skin. Also some stubble on the cheeks. But his face seems soft, even with his focused gaze, eyebrows furrowed to assess the wound on your forehead.

Whenever you feel your staring becomes too intense or obvious and you look down again, his smell overtakes your senses. His cologne smells citrusy, mixed with notes of cedar wood.

You curse yourself for being so desperate. It must be your lack of social interaction with other humans besides him that makes you so overwhelmed with the closeness. Needless to say, it is an invasion of your private space, whether you appreciate it or not, you can’t really tell just yet.

After assessing the healing process of the wound Zemo mumbles a simple “looks good” and proceeds to take out tweezers and medial scissors.

It’s in that moment that he briefly catches your stare. For some unknown reason, instead of avoiding his eye, you decide to look right back at him. It’s probably only a fraction of a second but it feels like minutes of staring into each other’s eyes and by the time he finally concentrates on your forehead again you’re a wreck. Shaking even more than before and trying to breath as quietly as possible. What was wrong with you? Why did he have that effect on you?

He must have noticed your discomfort as he tells you that “it’s alright, just stay calm and relax” while he’s preparing to remove the stitches.

It really just isn’t that easy to relax when your brain decides to completely eliminate the function of self-control and all you can think about is the fact that your kidnapper/host/new-friend-who-also-happens-to-be-a-Baron-AND-a-terrorist is actually quite an attractive man and very caring and gentle when he wants to be. His fingers just ever so slightly ghosting over your skin, giving you goosebumps all over. Underneath all those rigid, strong features definitely lies something soft and vulnerable.

You try to calm yourself down, you really do. Closing your eyes and easing your breathing when Zemo suddenly burst your meditative bubble.

“He loved Turkish delights.”

Your eyes snap open, finding Zemo’s but he’s not looking at your confused expression, but instead focusing on the wound above your left eye. He senses your confusion though.

“Carl. My son.”

Now you were even more stunned. He was actually opening up. In all of the possible situations, he chooses to tell you about his son while being mere inches from your face. But you didn’t want to break the spell. Staying quiet and assuming he talked to distract you, why he chose such a personal topic, you didn’t know but you appreciate his story.

He tells you about how Carl was a tough kid. Nothing ever hurt too much and he wasn’t scared of anything, besides maybe wasps. But he most likely got that from his father.

He would come home from playing outside spotting bruises and cuts from branches or wounds from falling from his bike but he’d be so casual about it. Simply asking for a band aid, just to rip it off again after a few hours because it was “annoying on his skin”.

His mother was worried he’d be too reckless, but she knew he’d learned from his father to always calculate the risks.

It was only once, when he suddenly came running from playing with friends outside. When jumping over a little stream somewhere in the woods surrounding the Zemo’s Estate he must have slipped and cut himself quite deep on his shin on a sharp rock. The ever cool Carl he was, he told his friends it was nothing, just a scratch and he’d just get a band aid real quick.

He really did try to hold back the tears, but when he spotted his father sitting on the balcony and alarmingly getting up when he saw his boy limping towards him, blood running all over his legs, the tears came, even for tough Carl.

The wound was quickly fixed up, the tears dried and the mood lifted with a treat of Turkish Delights.

“With all my efforts, I've always encouraged him to freely express his emotions. And not to shy away from embracing his weaknesses.” He sighs.

“But then again, I suppose I wasn’t much of a role model in that regard.”

You don’t know what to say. You want to say something. Anything. Mostly you want to thank him for opening up. For telling you about something so intimate. Essentially telling you about his own failings. Making himself vulnerable, right in front of you.

“I think he still really looked up to you. And I don’t think you failed.”

It’s all you say.

Zemo has long finished taking out the stitches but he’s still there. Not having moved from his position and it seems you’re back to simply staring at each other. In that moment he looks like a normal man. A bit of a broken man but a genuine one. An open book, really to be read and ready to be understood. You catch yourself wanting to touch him then. Just softly run your hand along his cheek, or just give him a hug, a long one. You search his face, wanting to take in as much as possible, before the moment expires or worse: it turns out to have been a dream. He’s doing the same, his stare dropping to your lips in an almost antagonizing rhythm. It takes everything in you not to reach out. You’ve never been one to make first moves, and you feel it isn’t your place to take action or advantage of his vulnerability. So you wait, and continue to stare and hope he just leans in and kisses you already. You know it probably isn’t a good idea, but you also feel it to be something you both would need at the moment.

It could be your imagination but you feel as if he was leaning even further into your space, ever so closer, breath hitching and heart beating too fast, too loud in your chest….

“Right… the scar should heal quite nicely.”

It is pure disappointment. The way he pulls back in the last second, right before you could have tasted his lips, mumbling whatever about your scar. You just nervously clear your throat and thank him.

He’s stood up and is out of the bathroom before you can even think about saving the situation.

Needless to say, that night you can’t sleep. And for once, it’s not because of nightmares.

You lie there, wondering if his thoughts are circling around as well.

#helmut zemo fanfic #zemo fic #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #mcu #baron zemo x you #zemo x you

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wakanai · 6 months

Text

Happy Birthday to My Beloved Blorbo, Oda Sakunosuke! 🎉

AAAAAAA

he's so beautiful I can't-

(long post ahead)

this is the guy who

used to be an assassin at age 14

quit his job after reading a book and meeting its author (asagiri behavior btw - the 'left his job cause he wanted to write' part lol)

saw an injured dazai and brought him in his house (lit the equivalent of seeing a random injured criminal and knowingly bringing him into your house lol)

wrapped dazai in a blanket, trapped him in his house until he recovered safely

reacted to dazai's unhinged behavior and threats with an 'oh okay' attitude (unironically btw. he's really just like that TT)

was strong enough to be mistaken for a WHOLE organization

no one even had clues that it was him TT

made dazai embarrassed

“Of course, you would be wary of the switch. So, I had to distract you by conversation.”

“So, the games and the flow of conversation till now, were both according to your plan, you mean?”

“Hehe. Saying important things as a camouflage to get what you want. That is the basis of the negotiation technique.”

I ask as I organize the cards, “Which is camouflage of which?”

Dazai's expression turns blank for a second, as if he has been caught off guard. But it is only for a moment. He turns his head to the side to hide his expression and smiles. If I am not wrong, there is an embarrassed expression on his face. It is under the dark lighting of the bar, so I might have been mistaken though.

-- The Day I Picked Up Dazai (TDIPUD) (translation by @popopretty; you can find it in her tags i think)

^^ LOL. Oda 'I might have been mistaken' Sakunosuke (this is the guy who understood Dazai the most)

had a conversation with Shibusawa in Dead Apple and wasn't killed - in fact, Shibasawa even wanted to talk to him again if he had the chance (Oda TT he's got that 'I attract mentally unstable people and fix them' rizz lmao. Fyodor, take down notes).

did not expect Dazai to ask for a second meeting:

Dazai’s wounds have already crossed the most critical time. Just leave them like that and they will heal on their owns. My role here is over. So is our relationship.

Dazai nods and takes the cards from me. Then in a casual tone, he says those words.

“When are we meeting next?”

I stop what I am doing and look at Dazai.

-- TDIPUD

(Oda really said 'no' to attachment issues SAJDIAFJ. he's the kind of wonderful guy you meet once online and feel sad cause you can't find them again TT)

was the lowest ranking member in the mafia (and he slayed it too. did the jobs no one else wanted ugh)

despite the typical black-suit-shades look that low ranking mafiosos wore, Oda wore a BRIGHT COLORED, beige cream coat (do yall realize how much this must have made him stand out?? in a pool full of black - he stood out. Also the fact that mafiosos wear black so that blood isn't visible when it stains -- but Oda DECIDED TO STOP killing people hence why he didn't need to wear black. UgH such an icon ✨.)

survived the Dragon Heads Conflict (obviously 🙄)

adopted 5 orphans from that conflict

supported them financially, visited them on weekends, left them under the care of the curry-shop owner, connected w them!!!

managed a few shops for the mafia (reread Dark Era if you missed this detail; p. 94)

listener friend; listened to Dazai's antics and took them seriously (I bet he's the type who never forgets any minor detail their friend tells him)

joined in Dazai's chaos and hugged and tickled Ango (sibling behavior lol. Oda's just as chaotic - only difference is he does it with a straight face 😭 if Oda was in the ADA, Kunikida would grow white hair LOL. Imagine the chaos he and Dazai would bring TT - plus Dazai would be 10x happier. friendly reminder that Dazai gave Ango and Oda drugged food and when he offered to cook again, Oda's response was 'If it keeps you from getting tired, then it might be pretty useful before a hard day's work' like BRUH elfeofk.)

this isn't noticeable at first but despite always seeing himself as less than Dazai cause of their rank, Oda literally called Dazai by his name in front of the other mafia members (and no - he didn't even consciously think about it 😭). Imagine being a random mafioso and suddenly you see the lowest ranking member call an executive informally. like??? Oda's co-workers would call Dazai 'Dazai-san' while Oda be out there speaking casually like 'hey dude.' It's funny cause Oda is dense so he prob didn't even think of 'Office Codes' (yk the typical social rules where if ur friends w ur boss u call them formally at work? yea. Oda does not care LOL.)

He has good intuition

[Then I looked myself in my room and cycled through my thoughts [...] I listened only to my heartbeat as I observed the emotions bubbling up from within me like foam. I had a feeling something would happen[...]it was the small tinge everyone gets before something's about to happen. But realistically, there was virtually nothing I could do about it until it actually occurred and slapped me in the face. The world isn't kind. You have to be tough.] << relatable.

He sassed Mori HELP 😂😭

"At any rate, you just got here. You did not see a thing. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded in agreement. [...] "I only just arrived. Thank you for taking a break from undressing a young girl and chasing her around the room for me. So what was it you needed me for?"

The boss pinched his brows together for a few moments to think before nodding as if he had made up his mind. -- The Dark Era

He can see into the future

this is honestly a cool ability with so much potential. I'm going to promote this post by @raaanpo because why not. it's cool. :)

Such a caring friend (he gave Ango the benefit of the doubt, was crushed at the betrayal, and the way he thinks about dazai i cant- TT)

I already knew what Dazai was trying to say and what his intentions were and yet I had no choice but to scrutinize his every word to find some sort of silver lining.

"Maybe Ango really was lying but he's an informant who deals with top-secret information on the Mafia. It's only natural he'd have a secret meeting or two. You can't blame him for that"

-- p.46, Dark Era (DE)

"Hey Dazai" [...] "Is there any possibility that someone framed Ango and is pulling the strings from behind the scenes?" -- p.61, DE

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ango turn his back to me before leaving with the Special Forces. [...] My tongue numb, I called out to Ango as he left, but even I didn't know what I was saying. An indescribable feeling of loneliness was the only thing filling my heart...as if I were floating at the end of the universe. Even that was swallowed by darkness. My consciousness faded to black. -- p.90, DE

"Dazai, stop" I begged in a hushed tone. [...]

"Dazai!" I screamed. I felt as though we were thousands of miles apart. [...]

"Sorry to shock you like that" (<< dazai's the one speaking here btw) [...]

Had our ranks or relations been any different, I probably would have punched him right then. (note: this reminds me of when Fukuzawa slapped Ranpo TT) However, I am me and there was nothing I could do to him.

After returning my gun to its holster, I turned my back to Dazai and began walking away. With every step I took, I felt as if the ground were going to collapse, creating a bottomless hole that I would fall through for an eternity. Dazai's expression as he placed his finger on his forehead and approached the enemy-- that of a child about to burse into tears--remained burned into my eyes. -- chap 1, DE

^^ it's giving friend-who-knows-you're-depressed-but-waits-for-you-to-tell-them energy like 😭😭bruh Oda knew. he knew dazai was depressed but he didn't push him about it. he just listened to any of dazai's ramblings and was there for him. ugh. Oda TT

also oda and ango :")

Ango looked at us and continued, "If there ever comes a time when the Division and the Mafia no longer exist...if we're ever freed from the confines of our work...do you think we can drink here again like this?"

"Don't say any more, Ango" a voice said nearby. It was my voice. "Just don't." [...]

I figured that was probably the last time I would ever see him.

(I still maintain the belief that Oda only said this because he knew the tensions were high and Dazai literally just threatened to torture and kill Ango moments ago. That last line hurts, man.)

Insecure king

(despite being a powerful ex assassin and supporting 5 kids - my goodness does Oda have insecurity issues :") )

These are just some scenes of Oda not realizing what a king he is 😭

This was Dazai though; he was probably just talking out of his ass. A man in his twenties isn't going to be much of a balm for anyone's soul. -- p.17, DE

(help why does this sound so funny 😂)

I nodded. Dazai was always right and I was always doing the wrong thing. -- p.40, DE

"Maybe I should recruit them.." Dazai smirked while wiping his sweat. "I heard all about it, Odasaku. You're raising five kids, huh? And not only that, they're orphans from the Dragon Head's Conflict."

Even if I'd tried to hide it, Dazai would've been able to figure it out with just half a day's worth of research. -- p.56, DE

(says the guy who managed to hide the painting without anyone knowing. Ngl Dazai was kind of being a dick here TT).

Even if I took Ango's side there, nothing would change. (note: oda sweetie, you're starting to act like Dazai TT.) There was no way to break out of Dazai's trap around the bar's perimeter and the children would be killed if I betrayed the Mafia. --p.119, DE

^^ see what I'm talking about? tensions were high. it's not like Oda hated Ango. He just didn't want to escalate the situation. And plus, Oda's never been a false-hope type of guy. So when he rejected Ango's wish, it doesn't mean he hates him or doesn't want to be friends anymore. he's just protecting himself from getting his hopes up and being realistic. On another note, I think being in the Mafia def affected Oda negatively. He was much more confident in TDIPD. :(

Lost king

After getting into the car, I recklessly hightailed it to the office. I don't really remember much about what happened along the way; I might've driven down the three-lane highway in the wrong direction two or three times. -- chap 1, DE

If someone were to peer inside my mind at that moment, they would've witnessed something akin to a massive volcanic eruption. Countless question marks would have been blasting out of the crater, blanketing the sky in its entirety. And yet, the only visible reaction I had was a twitch of a finger. -- p.18, DE

I ended up standing in front of the son and introducing myself. As “the person who killed your father.” There was no word that could describe how angry the son was. He had all the rights to be angry. [...] He was hitting me, throwing stuff at me, and attacking me with all sorts of insults. I could easily dodge all of his attacks, but there was no way to avoid the insults.

When he became exhausted from all the rampage and finally sat down, I explained to him about the killing. After that, he demanded a compensation. For his father’s life, and for the rental fee of that book I took without permission. -- TDIPD

(bruh. Oda's wildin 😭 pulled up at the front door and said 'yeah I killed your father' like DJFWEIJF. If Oda became an author, he would def be openly weird like the author of chainsaw man and he'd be the type to share life lore w his fans despite it being illegal😭:

'Oda! I'm a big fan! I have a question. Did you ever kill a person? Why is your writing so good at capturing that stuff?'

I'm willing to bet good money he would actually answer that question honestly.

RBF king

I was sure I looked even grumpier than usual [...] I wasn't actually in a bad mood though. It was merely a problem of balance because my hands were full [...]. You'd need a little training to carry these with a smile. -- p.121, DE

('you'd need a little training to carry these with a smile.' << it's giving uncle vibes 😭)

Writer's block king

"Because there's only one story I want to write, and it's in here." I tapped my temple. "Unfortunately, I don't have the necessary tools or skills to bring this story to life. I feel like a lost mountaineer standing before the tallest, most sacred mountain in the world with just a single, tiny ax" -- BEAST LN

(Oda stop being so relatable...)

Was a good mentor to Akutagawa in BEAST LN (lit trained him, was okay w his antics, and was willing to go against the Mafia for him. Dazai who? Akutagawa was WAY more stable with Oda as his mentor 😭)

"How are you earning enough to take care of them?" (<< Aku asking)

"That's a secret." Oda let out a faint, almost inaudible laugh.

What I needed to do now, however, was worry about the new recruit, since he was a hundred times more messed up in the head than me.

Dazai walked over with a faint, indecipherable smile. "I've been training Atsushi for four and a half years, yet you beat him. It's hard to believe..." (uhm duh. that's cause he was trained by Oda 🙄💅who doesn't abuse his students unlike y-)

"Akutagawa, it was actually Oda who obtained this video," said Tanizaki who was seated. "Even with Ranpo's Super Deduction and Oda's extraordinary skill, Flawless [...], it took them three whole days to sneak into the secret facility and steal the footage. That just shows you how extremely dangerous the mission was and how hard it was to get this information."

That was when it hit Akutagawa. He had just recently been asked to watch over the orphans for three days while Oda was out of town on business.

ugH. KING behavior 😩👑

He's read the Bible

"John 12:24. You're surprisingly well read, Sakunosuke." --p.144, DE

^^ imagine if he and Fyodor had a conversation. that would be p. interesting.

was kind to the curry shop owner (ill elaborate later cause im so sleepy rn)

--- and so much more. I actually have a whole fanfic in my head of Oda TT (and that Oda is a lot different from the one in canon but is based off of him. yeah...I like Oda if u couldn't alr tell.😭)

I urge yall to please read Dark Era and The Day I Picked Up Dazai. It captures his character way more than the anime.

To end this post, I want to give tribute to the IRL! Oda Sakunosuke cause that's who the bsd character is based from and Oct 26 is his actual birthday 😸

About the Real Oda:

List of some of his works:

Thank youu 🥳

I hope this post encourages more oda love lol. he's such a king. 💅

tagging @carbonateds-oda because I need someone to share my unhinged Oda thoughts too 😭😩

(feel free to ignore btw or lmk if it bothers u. i feel like ive been too interactive lately TT)

anywy, happy birthday odasaku! 🥳🥳👑

#bsd #bsd oda sakunosuke #oda #odasaku #oda sakunosuke #oda appreciation #odasaku appreciation #happy birthday to this awesome guy #my blorbo 😩#long post #bruh i actually got anxiety #that this would accidentally get deleted #cause its so long and if it did then -#anyways #hehe #:>#bsd oda anaylsis #odasaku analysis #happy birthday odasaku

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gingerteaonthetardis · 1 year

Note

I am sorry for sending you an angst prompt but... I had a thought seeing this one: "I wish people came with a warning label about how exactly they'll fuck you up. And you know what's wrong with me? I would've read yours and still chosen to tag along." - Rose Tyler and a Doctor of your choice, mid argument. Bonus points if it's an argument because he tried to send her away for her own safety, Bonus bonus if he succeeded and she came back powerful and pissed off - just not in a canon situation.

@lotsofthinkythoughts, my dearest pal, thank you for your patience. i won't tax it further with a long disclaimer, lol. however, i will say that i fudged the quote a little bit, just to fit it in how i wanted. i also picked nine for my doctor, because i love him... aaaaand enjoy the angst! (if this can really qualify as angst...)

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Their cell was just like any other, unremarkable except maybe for the heat.

"Rose," he said.

"I don't want to hear it."

Sweat was darkening the hair at her nape, making it stick. She'd shed her jacket hours ago, and sat now with her back against the cinderblock wall, unsuccessfully attempting to cool herself down. In spite of her efforts, the concrete was as warm and muggy to the touch as everything else.

"But what—?"

Hair whipping, she turned to glare at him. "I'm not talking to you right now."

The Doctor scoffed. Slouched against the opposite wall, he looked irritably unaffected by the humidity. His leather coat still hung off him, and though his face had kind of a glow to it, he had no need to wipe away beading sweat like she did. She quietly resented him for this.

Or rather, she resented him for other reasons—mostly—but also for that. For how put-together he looked when she was falling apart. Her eyes fluttered closed; a golden afterimage asserted itself.

He'd tried to send her away. Again.

Of course, it wasn't "again" for him, not yet. He was still young—so young, possibly too young for her to be messing about with, in the grand scheme of her timeline—and wearing the first face she'd met. The one with that goofy, indescribable pride and those clear blue eyes with such gentle lines around them. The light and the dark in constant opposition over his heavy brow.

She couldn't say it didn't hurt, seeing him again. Knowing what was coming in their still-far-off future.

What she hadn't anticipated was being shoved back into the TARDIS on her own and sent flying—thankfully, not irreversibly—back in time, in a rescue attempt so pointlessly stupid and cosmically dangerous that she'd wanted to wring his neck upon return.

Did he even realise the danger that would've put them in? Put the whole multiverse in?

And then when she'd landed the TARDIS—safely, she might add—and come storming out, he'd gotten them both locked up in prison. Less than ten minutes, it took.

The Doctor sighed. "Rose, just—"

"Shut up."

What really hurt was that she'd tried to tell him, tried to explain herself, and he just wouldn't listen.

He never did, not when he thought he knew better. That hadn't changed over the years and bodies, but it was particularly bad with him—with the Doctor she'd met first.

She wasn't even sure if he'd worked it out yet.

That she was a fixed point.

Because he wasn't listening. It was all blah-blah-blah, nattering and pretending and scheming and ignoring the reality right beneath his nose.

A sharp sigh boiled up in her chest. She was tired of feeling hurt—hurt, in turn, always seemed to make her angry.

A gate clanged somewhere down the line. Some other cell. She couldn't tell if an inmate was coming or going.

"You know what's funny?" she said, not strictly speaking to him.

"I thought you didn't want to talk."

She ignored him. It was easy with her eyes closed.

"What's funny is how you never learn."

It felt good to say. It felt good to be an authority on something—and if there was one thing she knew, it was him. In all his many shapes, accounting for every variable. She knew him.

And it was true: "You never do, no matter how many times I run into you. You try to push me away every single time."

She heard a little scuffing sound. His boot against stone. Even with her eyes closed, she could visualize that boot: black and scuffed and heavy.

"And that's all right, I've come to expect it," she pushed on. "You're the lonely god aboard your lonely ship. That's who you want to be, apparently."

He huffed like he meant to say something, but her eyes flared open, and he stopped.

Hurt made her angry, yes. And anger made her burn.

She got to her feet without really knowing how. "But sometimes, Doctor, I wish people came with a warning label—a nice, specific one with a list of every possible way they could fuck you up. And yours," —she laughed roughly at the way he stiffened and stood a little taller, unused to hearing her curse, "—oh, yours would be a mile long."

His forehead was doing something ominous. But it didn't much matter. She was burning, burning. She was always burning, had always been. Her irises felt molten around the black holes of her pupils. She pushed off the wall, abrading her palms.

"You have made me more afraid than anything else in my life. More than getting fucked over by Jimmy Stone, more than losing my dad. You."

Losing you, she didn't say.

"And yet you keep coming back." His words were practically a sneer. But there was a vulnerability to them—she wasn't sure if he was even aware of it, how the syllables lifted at the end. How the pain marked itself out in between his eyebrows, a little dimple she loved and mourned in equal measure. "From across universes, if your story's to be believed."

"We wouldn't be in this cell," she said, struggling to sound calm, "if you'd believed my story, Doctor. But instead you shut me out and made a scene and now we're shut up here. So while we're stuck together, you're gonna listen."

Her eyes shuttered themselves. She couldn't bear the burning anymore, not when her whole body was slicked with sweat already. A deep breath in, out… in again, and the afterimages—the future memories, the past potentialities—faded, leaving her vision clear.

It was only him, and only her.

Rose stood in the center of the room, on the invisible line which, in crossing, would bring her into his world, with its smells of leather and engine oil and sweet-sharp mint. It would carry her to the place where she could see the fine ring around his light eyes. A saturated blue, like the widest rings around Uranus.

She paused. She stepped.

"You're right," she admitted, "I do always find my way back, no matter how many times you insist I'll be happier somewhere else, or that you're better off alone, or that it's too dangerous. I keep coming back. Every time you shut me out and pack me off home and make decisions for me—I come back."

Her approach was slow, as if toward an animal she didn't want to spook. Her pink tank top had plastered itself to her back; her hair had long since come out of its clip. She didn't move to fix either. She just drew closer and closer, while the Doctor stared, his eyes narrowed and unreadable.

He was unsure of her, she could tell that much—and unsure in a way she'd never noticed, back then. Because he'd seemed so capable, so much larger-than-life, that it had never occurred to her what kind of shadow she might cast.

She took another step. "Truth is, I would've read all those warnings and I would've still chosen to tag along. D'you know why?"

She was close now. The dusty air sweltered. She wanted to touch him—was debating whether or not it was worth the risk—when she noticed his hand. At his side, it made a tight fist. He didn't shake his head, but he didn't have to.

Taking in a shallow breath, she forced the words out: "It's because you will always be worth it to me. And maybe that makes me an idiot, maybe there's something wrong with me, but it doesn't matter. The danger and the fear that comes with this life… will always be less important… than being with you."

His eyes jumped skittishly back and forth between hers, unsure where to land. She watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat.

"I'm saying this now, because I never got to say it when we traveled together. But you need to hear it." They were close enough now that one more step would put her squarely in his arms. "You can keep dodging and avoiding, that's fine; it might drive me spare, but it won't stop me coming back when the universe—or your own stubbornness—pulls us apart. You should know that, Doctor."

A memory seized her. Her own voice, screaming, "Take me back! Take me back!" Another memory overlaid itself.

If losing that life was what had defined her youth, finding it again was what defined her now.

Finding her way back, no matter what. To him, and to the life she knew she was meant to be living.

Her hand rose, both of them watching as if it belonged to neither of them, but was acting on its own volition. When it landed squarely in the middle of his chest, she felt his dual-pulse against both pinkie and thumb.

Spanning the space between his hearts.

Looking up, she said, "D'you understand?"

And for once, his magnificent gob seemed to have slowed to a near stop. He nodded. His eyes were vivid, burning, beautiful, no more or less than they always were. She remembered them brown, and green, and then in different shades of blue.

But he shone through those crowded memories and not-quites and maybes.

"I understand, Rose," he rasped.

"Good." She nodded. "Then stop fucking arguing with me about it," she said—forcefully, only about half a second before their lips collided.

His skin tasted like dust, and then in a moment like something sweeter and richer and more familiar. She reached for it, her hands scrabbling at his coat, and her tongue swiping at his soft inner lip. Everything she wanted was here. Everything was good. Everything was so clean and perfect and nothing else mattered.

And maybe because everything was so good and clean and perfect, it couldn't last. The universe felt like that sometimes, slowing and urging with rhyme or reason. It could stretch moments like taffy or cut them to the quick, cut them right out of existence.

In a blink, Rose was gone again. Back in the midst of a battle that was far, far from over.

But the Doctor—she couldn't know it, not then, but the Doctor had been listening.

And for once in his long and frequently foolish life, he grasped the heart of things. As he pressed his lips together, tasting gloss and the underlying hint of salt, he understood.

Finally and unmistakably.

She would come back again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

#i am feeling stuck so i wanted to maybe do a prompt or two from my backlog (sorry beloveds<3) to maybe shake some words loose #i had more i wanted to put into the scene but it was getting a bit long so...i held off #ninerose #fic and chips #timepetals #nine x rose #dimension hopping rose #dw fic #abbey writes

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zackcollins · 2 years

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baby, you’re my person || matt chapman

Author’s Note: Okay, so. Somebody asked me to rewrite an old fic and use a different player. This is that. I went with Matt because one of my best friends is having a rough go of it and I wanted to surprise her with something that would make her feel better. Hope that’s okay with the person that requested the rewrite!! Anyways. GIF credit to myself LOL

Warnings: Nothing, in my opinion. But it’s about a pregnancy reveal so I shall put a blanket warning for that just to be safe since I know not everyone vibes with that. If I missed anything, let me know!!

Word Count: 1.7k+

Title: My Person by Spencer Crandall

Additional: The premise is a pregnancy reveal but the language about the reader is vague. They should be able to be read as gender-neutral!! I know not everyone that can and wants to be pregnant is feminine so I made sure I did my best to be vague about it so people of any gender who wanna be pregnant can envision themselves. As always, enjoy this and feedback is welcomed!!

Tagging: @whimsical-daydreams (surprise! hope you enjoy!)

The bag you had meticulously put together at the beginning of the week had been sitting in your bedroom closet since then. You had placed it in there because you didn’t need it until your boyfriend, Matt, returned home from the road trip he was on with the Jays. Waiting for him to get back was driving your stomach crazy with nerves, anticipation, and making the nausea from the reason the bag was put together feel twenty-six times worse. It wouldn’t last all that much longer, though, seeing as Matt should be home from the road trip some time this afternoon.

When you heard the door to your apartment finally swing open, you felt some of your nerves relax. You knew it could be nobody else besides Matt so that made you better about this whole situation. That meant that it was finally time to get this show you had orchestrated all by yourself on the road. To do that, you rushed into your bedroom to grab the bag from where you had carefully hid it in the closet. You double checked the contents to make sure they were correct. When you were satisfied that they were, you squeezed the bag against you chest and took a steadying breath while closing your eyes to calm any remaining nerves you had. After mumbling ‘you got this (Y/N)’ to yourself, you walked out of the bedroom, bag in hand, to greet Matt.

You found Matt in the apartment foyer holding an Iced Capp and a little brown baggie that said Tim Hortons on it. Knowing him, you could hazard a guess that it was probably one of the fruit muffins.

“What’s in the bag?” You both managed to say at the same time.

Matt chuckled, a small smile on his face. “A s’mores doughnut. Don’t tell the nutritionist though. They’ll have my damned head.”

You smirked playfully, shaking your head dismissively. “I won’t tell a soul. You deserve a treat. Speaking of which. Come sit at the kitchen island and I’ll show you what’s in this bag.”

Matt raised a questioning eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he followed you through the apartment to the kitchen, taking a couple slurps from his Iced Capp straw as he went. The sound was something that you were well used to from how often the both of you would get one but right now the noise was making you want to take the straw and shove it where the sun didn’t shine on Matt. It was just grating your nerves because of how hormonal you had become in the last few weeks. Of course, you weren’t going to tell your boyfriend that because it would ruin the surprise. You’d just tough it out because you’d worked too hard on this surprise to ruin it over the sound of Matt drinking something.

When you arrived in the kitchen, Matt slid into one of the barstools at the island. He placed his drink and the doughnut bag on on counter. He looked at you expectantly, drumming his fingers against the granite. You smiled softly as you handed him the bag and pulled your phone out of your pocket. After fiddling with it for a few seconds, it had started to record the visual of Matt in front of you.

“Alright,” you said, motioning to the bag. “You can look in it now.”

The moment Matt stuck his hand in the bag was the most nerve wracking moment of your life. This was the moment you had been waiting for all week. Hell, the moment you’d been wanting for the last couple of years. The fact that it was finally happening was making you want to break down crying before anything had even really transpired. It was a lot to process and you were doing your best to keep composure so you didn’t give anything away to Matt.

As soon as Matt’s hand came out of the bag with the smallest pair of cleats you had been able to find, you felt your knees shake. You leaned on the archway next to you to keep from falling over and ruining the video and the surprise.

“Mini cleats? Are you—”

“Keep looking; there’s more in there.” You cut Matt off with a nervous chuckle. You were almost one hundred percent positive what he was about to say but you had to see his reaction to the rest of the items before you heard him say it.

Matt raised his hands in a show of surrender, chuckling softly as he grabbed the bag with one hand and reached inside with the other.

Even though you were a good ten feet away from your boyfriend, you heard the tissue paper that you had placed inside as filler rustling as Matt moved his hand around. You were dying from anticipation for what Matt would pull out of the bag. When he brought his hand out a moment later grasping a piece of fabric, you swallowed around a thick knot in your throat. That was what you subconsciously had wanted him to pull out next.

Bringing his other hand up, Matt grasped both sides of the fabric. He tilted his head to the left a little and you saw his eyes dart across the fabric; it was as if he was trying to process what he was reading. A moment later, he placed the fabric on the counter before he wiped the corners of his eyes with his thumbs.

“What was that, Matt?” You asked, your voice dangerously close to breaking.

“A baby onesie,” he said as he picked it back up and turned it to face the camera. “It says: ‘Future Third Baseman.’”

“There’s one more thing left in there.” You pointed at the bag, your hand shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Matt nodded as he stuck his hand inside. Your heart hammered in your ears as you heard the tissue paper rustling again. Your heart felt like is was going to simultaneously jump out of your throat, your ears, and your chest with how hard the beating was resonating. It was making you feel like you wanted to pass out, throw up, and have a panic attack all at the same time. This surprise was for something you had wanted for as long as you could remember; now that you were actually getting it, it was making you feel so many things at once that you were certain you were going to pass away from all of them.

When you were able to focus back on Matt, you saw that he was looking sideways at the bag. That made you swallow thickly because that told you that he had found the last thing you had put in there for him.

As your boyfriend’s hand came out of the bag, you felt your legs start to shake. You gripped the archway so tightly with the hand that wasn’t holding your phone that you thought that you were going to crush your bones from the sheer force of it. Looking intently at Matt, you watched as he examined whatever it was that he was holding in his hands.

His face went through a range of emotions. It started with outright shock, quickly shifted to unabated happiness, and finally ended on pure, unadulterated love as he turned to look at you. When he put the item down, you swallowed a thick lump in your throat.

“What… what was that last item, Matthew?” You asked. You knew full well what it was because you had put the bag together. You just wanted to hear Matt say it; needed to hear what his voice sounded like as he said the words.

“It was a positive pregnancy test,” Matt replied, his voice laced with as much happiness and positive emotion as you’d ever heard from him.

“And what does that plus the other two things mean to you?” You bit your lip as you gripped the archway as hard as you possibly could. Your legs felt like they were about ready to cave underneath the weight of the current situation and you needed to grip that archway for dear life to keep from falling to the floor in an emotional puddle.

“That my partner is having my baby.”

Matt’s eyes were shiny and a few stray tears spilled from the corners of them as he stood from the barstool and walked over to you. He wrapped you in the tightest hug he had ever given you and softly ran his hands along your back. Not a moment later, you felt him start to vibrate against you. That told you that your boyfriend had started to cry. You stopped the recording and slipped your phone back into your pocket before you brought your hands up and ran them soothingly along Matt’s sides. Matt brought his head up connected his lips with yours. Smiling into the kiss, you moved your hands to your boyfriend’s back and gripped gently to get a better kissing experience. When Matt stopped kissing you, he stepped back a couple of steps. He brought a hand up and gently slotted it over your stomach, a fond smile on his face.

“I know this is probably a little premature,” he started, rubbing his hand along the tiny bump that was already forming. “But I love you already little one.”

Your heartstrings pulled incredibly taut in your chest as Matt continued to rub gently along the tiny bump. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to Matt’s cheek, a soft smile on your face. Matt hummed as he gently ran his thumb along your stomach.

“I love you so much, Matthew,” you said as you put both of your hands on top of Matt’s hand over your stomach.

Matt smiled, bringing his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, running his thumb along the cheek bone. After staring longingly into your eyes for a moment, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you way more than you’ll ever know, (Y/N),” Matt said. “And I’m so ready for us to be parents to this baby.”

You felt your entire body fill with fondness and warmth at the fact that Matt felt the same way you did about becoming a parent. It was so nice to be on the same page about this. It was so nice because you and Matt becoming parents is everything you could ever want.

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erigold13261 · 1 year

Note

I love everything you make and all the positive comment you leave on people’s works!

Changing topics, I really admire how you can make more mature and serious problems with so much representation of all kinds of people in your famworks! Since I’m inclined to make more crack HCs and write for funsies, it makes my stuff look childish and silly… so much so it feels like OOC content with AUs that make absolutely zero sense. And I think both of these ways of writing are very, VERY valid!!!

Stay awesome (but safe)

Thank you! I definitely have said this before, but when it comes to sharing other people's art I always try to say something nice in the tags because I LOVE it when I get nice tags so I make sure to spread that kindness to others!

And again, thank you! I really just love learning about all kinds of things, injustices and lack of representation included in that learning environment. Which makes me want to either bring up those injustices or add more representation to my work! It's all really fun and important to me which is why I just keep adding more stuff! It also helps motivate me to learn other cultures too!

As for the silly stuff. That is totally fine! Silly is great to have! Like someone said about my darker AUs being a palette cleanser for fluff, the same thing could be said for fluff being a palette cleanser for angst! It's great to have both!

One of the best fanfics I read in the NSR community was the one about 1010 vs the Raccoons (I don't remember the author, sorry)! It was so silly and lighthearted, but so much fun and a great read! And that's the main takeaway.

Creating is supposed to be fun, to some extent (of course like I use it for coping and serious stuff, sometimes it's not always fun, but there is still some kind of enjoyment). So having AUs with OOC characters is great to have! Let me tell you! I've definitely taken characters and made them so OOC I literally just made them into OCs lol!

Even now, though I don't post them often, I do have silly ideas and fluff in my head! Right now I have a silly AU where the NSR adults above 40 turn into teens (with their teen mindsets) around the other NSR characters and it's all just fun and chaos! Random bullshit I can't do if I tried to stick to a timeline or put logic into the situation.

Literally just have fun and enjoy what you are doing! You want to make a character OOC? Go for it! You want to create the silliest AU with no logic to it? Go for it! Want to create a super serious and intense story with huge stakes? Awesome! Do it!

Just remember to have fun and that cringe culture is dead! :D

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zgvlt · 2 years

Text

fooling no one ace trappola x reader

summary: in which the prefect and Ace announce that they're dating, and the first years react

author's note: something short and not too serious for the occasion lol! happy april first! (this is safe btw! an actual fic, no pranks or scares below! /srs)

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, sort of fluff but mostly attempt at humor, ace gets slandered but with love, 3210 words, JP translation terms used (e.g., dorm leader)

you can also read this on AO3

I. DEUCE

“Surprise! Me and Ace are dating now!”

Okay, Deuce, just like you practiced. Pretend to be surprised to the best of your abilities. He didn’t really care about what Ace thought, but you looked so excited to announce it that he wasn’t going to ruin your fun for you— you were his BFF after all. He side-eyed Epel, who stood the closest to him, hoping he remembered to at least look believable.

“HAH???”

“...Seriously?”

“Huh? Really?”

“What? Dating while you’re both in school? You humans really have no sense of shame…”

Okay, that must have been pretty believable, right? Sure, none of them were quite like Pomefiore’s Dorm Leader when it came to acting or anything, but they practiced this behind your backs to prepare for the day either one of you finally made the announcement. Plus, Sebek’s reaction was probably not faked at all; he looked like he was tempted to give you and Ace a lecture about making sure to focus on studies and not distracting each other and making sure to not break any rules.

Did NRC even have any rules about PDA? Somehow he doubted it, there were more likely to be rules about not breaking each other’s faces than sucking each other’s faces… yeah he was going to stop thinking now.

“Oi, can’t you at least pretend to be happier for us?” Ace scoffed, though Deuce swore he looked a little smug just a second ago. “Two of your best friends finally got together, and no congratulations or anything?”

That was the thing… it was a little difficult to convey that emotion genuinely when the four of them already knew the truth— that this was just a prank set-up by the two of you.

Once the two of you had your fill over how good you had fooled them, the two of you would announce it was all a joke and that the two of you were just friends all along.

That was kind of annoying, actually. Not just the pranks part, he was already used to it because Ace was Ace and thrived off of messing with people, but the fact that he knew for a fact that Ace really did like you, and he was just too caught up on crushes being embarrassing and school romance being kind of lame to do anything about it.

Back then Deuce thought, okay, sure, maybe Ace just didn’t think the time was right— maybe next year, of the year after, or when you both graduated— serious benefit of the doubt, honestly Deuce thought he was just too chicken to make the first move, but whatever, it wasn’t like he was one to talk. If he liked someone he didn’t think he’d know how to make the first move either!

(Well he didn’t like anyone at the moment, so too bad for Ace, he was going to be the one getting made fun of this time! Hah! Suffer being lovesick, jerk!)

But then Ace decided he’d just prove that benefit of the doubt wrong, because Jack managed to overhear the two of you plan this whole thing— not even suggested by you, but by Ace. Not interested in romance right now his ass… then what was all this, huh?!

Honestly, he would have been a lot happier if the two of you had actually been dating! Sure no one wanted to see the two of you making love eyes at each other, but it wasn’t like that was gonna be enough to “tear apart a friendship group” or anything— he’d seen Ace throw those eyes at you anyway when you weren’t looking. Blech.

Again, they were only pretending to believe this for your sake… but they would also be lying if they said it was just so you could have your fun. He shared a dorm with Ace, just knew that the guy liked you more than a best friend would, but did you feel the same way? It was kind of hard to tell if the embarrassment on your face when they asked was because you felt awkward or because they were right.

Maybe you would be just as into this as Ace was, and then they would know his feelings were actually reciprocated all this time.

II. SEBEK

A joke is a thing that someone says or does to cause amusement or laughter, especially a story with a funny punchline… or at least that was what the textbook definition claimed. Sebek barely had any time for things like that, but he was familiar enough with the concept due to Master Lilia. Sebek also hardly laughed at them, but…

The joke. That you and Ace had been putting on for a week now. When exactly was it supposed to end? Where was the punchline? Where was he supposed to laugh?

Sebek certainly wasn’t laughing when he saw the two of you… when he saw… he couldn’t even think about it for too long, it was so improper! How could the two of you think of doing that in the hallways? Where anyone could see? At least have the decency to do that in the privacy of your rooms…

“Sebek, it probably wasn’t that big of a deal,” so Deuce assumed, but that was because he wasn’t there to see it for himself! Actually, he was likely the only one who had noticed— thoroughly unfortunate for him, but he thanked the Seven his Young Master was absent from the premises; perhaps it was the one time he was actually glad to be apart from him. He would have interrupted and shouted at the two of you for sure instead of running away from the premises.

“Lemme guess… they held hands? Ooh, maybe they hugged? Real scandalous, the two of them!” Epel said with a laugh. Oh, was that what they thought?

“That would have been preferable as I have tried mentally preparing myself for those two events, but my efforts were for naught. It was a different level I could not have anticipated. It was… you know…”

It took the three a few seconds to register what Sebek had meant, and when it sank in none of them could hide the shock from their faces— yes, they now understood the shock that he felt while witnessing the scene!

“They were K I S S I N G?”

Why was Deuce spelling it out? Was implying it not embarrassing enough?

“Not that it’s any of our business…” Jack began to say, attempting to mask his curiosity with a cough, “but where exactly?”

Were they not listening? He already said it a while ago, hadn’t he? Or did they want him to be extremely specific? Did he really need to say which corridor and outside which rooms?

“Outside of their class-”

“No, as in— ahem! Where… There's a difference, right? Where-”

“Who kissed who first? Cheek kiss? Lip kiss? Maybe on the hand like some type of gentleman thing?” Sebek could feel the heat in his cheeks rise at Epel’s questions. Why him? Why couldn't anyone else have witnessed it other than him? He really didn’t want to have to recall it!

“Ace started it… and it was… fine, I’ll just say it so don’t ask me again! It was the forehead! Or… top of the head? Somewhere there!”

Honestly he wasn’t too sure, he just wanted to look away as fast as possible, storming past the two of you to get to his next class, but did they understand now? Just why exactly he was reacting in this manner?

“That’s way too sweet, isn’t it?” Epel replied, looking quite bewildered. “That’s the type of thing old people do… I think. Meemaw and- ah, my grandparents, I mean, I’ve seen them do that sometimes.”

EXACTLY! Epel understood why it was so embarrassing and inappropriate, and just why he was so surprised in general! That kind of thing… he’d seen his mother do the same with his father, so wasn’t something like that reserved for married couples only? What were you and Ace doing something so… so… not romantic, no, although he supposed it could be classified under that category— domestic, yes, that was the word he was looking for. Hadn’t the two of you only been not-dating for a week?

The point was, what was the joke?! Did the two of you do that because he was passing by, because the two of you wanted to reinstate that prank of yours? Sebek wasn’t laughing!

“I don’t even get what’s so funny about it,” Sebek muttered, “acting like a couple. If we didn’t know it was a joke, they would have fooled us already with that much,” and they all seemed inclined to agree.

III. JACK

Two weeks had passed since the joke had first begun, and Jack… had a feeling this joke wasn’t so simple as you and Ace wanting to prank the four of them.

“Jack! Do you want to eat out with us?”

“Not interested. I’ll join next time.”

Normally Jack wouldn’t be against it— more often than not he found himself sharing a table with you and the other first years anyway, even with all the noise everyone caused by being within each other’s vicinity. How did he get dragged into such a rowdy group again?

Right. Overblots. A little wild how those brought people together.

Back to you and Ace. Both of you made for okay enough company, really, but… Deuce and Epel and Sebek weren’t around. Eating with just the two of you? The risk of the other three not coming to join? Yeah right, he’d rather stay alone than tag along like a lost puppy.

“Suit yourself,” Ace said with a shrug, before turning to talk to you exclusively, “guess it’s a date then, hm? Whaddya wanna eat?”

Jack tried not to show that he was still listening to a conversation that didn’t include him, but Ace always talked quite loudly, and being a beastman, he couldn’t help his hearing being that good. There was a reason he was able to overhear this whole plan of his in the first place, and he really wished he hadn’t. It would be unlike him, but maybe ignorance would be bliss just this once.

A date. If he hadn’t known this was just a prank, or if he had been having his doubts about the claims you made about your relationship, that would have certainly proved the two of you were dating. Especially with the lack of “just kidding~” from Ace.

However, he knew that was a part of the plan as well— Ace had told you going to eat out together, alone with you, would have been a good way to really seal the deal that the relationship was very much real and not just a prank. Prank or not, he’d rather not see what the two of you would do to prove you were dating.

Really, the worst part of this prank wasn’t that it was annoying, but that it was exhausting wondering what was going to happen next, and when it was going to end… and really exhausting, and kind of pitying, listening to Sebek grumble about the amount of physical display of affection that happened around him.

Sometimes he wondered if the two of you even remembered this was supposed to be all a joke in the first place.

“Is that an offer to treat me?”

“Hehe, trying to get something out of me, are you? Tell you what! If you win in a card game against me I’ll pay for your dessert! What’d you say?”

“You’re just going to cheat! I don’t…”

Jack sighed as the two of you finally walked out of hearing distance. As far as he could tell from staring at your retreating backs, neither of you seemed to be laughing at how well you had fooled everyone, likely still talking about that date (?) and whatever card game Ace wanted to try playing with you.

There had to be a motive somewhere— with Ace in particular, because he was the one who suggested it to you in the first place.

He wasn’t so dense as to not figure out the extent of the redhead’s feelings for you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if suppressing those feelings of his had led him to proposing this kind of prank in the first place. However, now that they were two weeks in and Ace, being the mastermind, seemed to have no plans of revealing the truth, and neither did you, probably content to just wait for Ace’s signal, then…

Perhaps Ace was using this as a way to get you to fall in love with him? To ask you out without having to ask you out with his feelings on the line? Then, perhaps, once you had fallen for him, either Ace would feel more comfortable asking to date you for real, or maybe he wanted you to be the one to ask him?

Basically, he wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

Well, whatever it was, the two of you better reach a conclusion quickly— either start dating or reveal your grand scheme already.

IV. EPEL

Three. Weeks. Of whatever it was that was going between you and Ace at this point. Three weeks of holding hands under tables, and kicking each other's feet… also under tables. Three weeks of hair ruffling that would make Vil go crazy, and head kissing that did make Sebek go crazy. Three weeks, according to Deuce, of passing notes to each other in class, and casually going on dates around the school— just the two of you.

There was also Ace’s ongoing joke about being the babysitter for the group, which was already debatable in the first place, but now it had transformed into the both of you being the… pseudo-parents of the friend group. Deuce looked like he was going to crush Ace with a cauldron and it would have been deserved.

There was also that one time he caught you kissing the heart by Ace’s left eye— it was kind of funny seeing the boy turn as red as his makeup, but he also kind of wanted to cry a little inside remembering it.

But no, none of those were what Epel has had enough of.

What truly was the worst of them all was three weeks of having to overhear Ace’s cheesy pickup lines! They were awful, and it sucked that a lot of the suckiest ones would get stuck in his brain for the rest of the day! Like,

“I don’t have a camera like you do, but I can picture us together,” to which you replied “Your phone literally has a camera, Ace.”

There was also that time he asked, “Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears,” to which you promptly reminded him that you were magicless.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a ‘fine-apple’,” must have been the worst for Epel to hear, because you actually responded with the same energy, “but you and me? We could be a pear.”

They all just made him want to kick Ace into a curb, but then even with your replies you’d always end up laughing at every single one, and then Epel finds himself thinking, wow, the two of you really are meant to be, because those were all horrible. The type of lines he’d find cute if Pawpaw and Meemaw were the ones saying it to each other, but because it was the two of you… yeah, all charm was lost on him.

Basically, Epel has had it with the two of you, and for the sake of everyone involved, he was going to finally put this to a stop once and for all.

“Ace, prefect, we know your relationship is a prank… but also, please just start dating already. We feel bad for Ace,” and he also felt bad for Sebek and Deuce, who were the two people who overreacted the most about everything they saw the two of you do, but that didn’t need to be mentioned right now.

He expected either one of you to deny it, or maybe fess up that it really was a joke all along and ask since when they had known. Instead, Ace had begun cackling like the funniest joke had just been said, and even with your initial bewilderment you began to follow suit.

“I can’t believe Ace was right,” you said mid-laughter, “I wanted to give you all more credit but… you guys actually thought we weren’t dating?”

“YEAH? Because you weren’t? Now you are?!”

“WAIT… SO THE TWO OF YOU WERE TRULY DATING?” you shushed Sebek and Deuce for being too loud in public, a little hypocritical considering you weren’t shutting up Ace for the same thing, but confirmed it nonetheless.

“Man, you all really thought we were doing all that for a joke?! What kind of friend kisses their friend, takes their friend on dates, all of that just for a prank? Even I’m not stooping that low!”

He… he did have a point there… Hold on, did that mean all those pickup lines weren’t just to piss him off? They were his real, legitimate, ways of flirting with you? And now that the two of you were revealed to actually be dating all this time he was going to hear more of it? Epel would be pulling at his hair right now if the threat of Vil and Rook wasn’t around some corner of the school.

Maybe he’ll pull on Ace’s hair instead, that’ll show him.

But seriously, Epel felt like he was just lied to, but he also didn’t doubt that Jack really did overhear that plan from Ace so what the hell was going on?

“That wasn’t what I… never mind,” Jack probably wanted to explain why exactly they came to that conclusion, but that would mean admitting that he was eavesdropping on a conversation held behind closed doors… looks like they were just gonna have to admit defeat this time… and hopefully Ace will be too busy making moves on you to hold this over them for the rest of the week.

Whatever the truth was… it would seem only the two of you would know.

V. ACE

“So your grand scheme to prank our friends… is to announce that we’re dating but not announce that it’s a joke right away. Instead, we’re going to hold hands on the way to class, have lunch sitting next to one another, flirt with each other, and go on dates with each other? To make sure they think we’re really dating?”

Well, Ace thought he had laid out that entire plan more eloquently, but yes, that was basically it.

“That’s fine with me but… if we’re going to do all that, shouldn’t we just date for real?”

Ace would spit out his drink if he had one, but because he didn’t he was going to choke on his own spit as he tried to play it cool… just in case this was payback for his fake proposal that one time.

“Heh, didn’t know you could joke like that, prefect! …Unless you’re not joking? Because-”

#ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #ace trappola x you #twst x reader #twst x you #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #nathya twst writing

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

Note

Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

#long post #anonymous #ask

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mfpeace · 3 years

Text

@justbeingedgy @weird-colombian-gurl You asked me to elaborate on the "Ches already has a kid" theory in the notes of that one mf analysis post (which I really liked, go check it out!!), so that's why I'm making this one, cuz notes are a bit too restricting for what I want to talk about!

Though next time think twice before asking me to talk about something I'm interested in, because you never know when you're gonna wake up lovecraftian horrors!! :DDD you'll see what i mean when you press read more :))

So, I'll say it right now - this post is largely inspired by the second story highlight of this Instagram user (sorry, I don't know their name, only that their Instagram handle is dee_girl_metalfamilyfan), it's in Russian though, so keep that in mind

Alright, so I'll break this theory into two parts: the first one will be all about Ches, and the second will be about his potential child (spoiler: you might've seen her!)

Without any further ado, let's get to the Ches part:

1. The creators said that they're gonna explore Ches' character in the second season. Obviously, it doesn't mean anything on it's own, but just wait.

Dima: Let's talk about the second season a little. Of course, the seconds season will show development of the old characters, as well as new ones. That's in short. As you see, Ches looks a bit different here.

Alina: Yeah, we'll show a bit more about Ches at the ages of 18 to 20. His past. We'll reveal a bit more about his complex character, as much as it's possible.

(The source of the translation) Also I think they also said at one point that adult Ches will get some character development too? But that's probably a given, considering that we wouldn't see his youth if it wouldn't have affected him in the present, flashbacks without any relevance to the overall story don't sound so good

2. Not sure about this one (we don't know how much in character it was) but I can't not mention it.

Alina: Actually there was this one fanfic that I really liked. I don’t remember what it was called, but it was about Ches having a daughter, which is a cool topic. It was relatively in character and truly interesting. It’s great when people focus not just on sexual relationships of the characters, but also try to look at their development. That was a really interesting one. That’s it.

(UnityCon '19)

3. This one's a pretty big one, in my opinion. So, this is what they said on ArtWave '19:

Dima: Ches also has flaws.

Alina: [to Dima] Don’t spoil stuff.

Dima: His flaw is that he's very... irresponsible, let’s say.

So, maybe, just maybe, Ches does have a child but he, you know... left them? As the Instagram highlight from the beginning say: "he might be irresponsible enough to leave his child, and he's probably irresponsible enough not to use any contraception" (rephrased, not the exact quote)

4. Alright, so, the only mention of this one I can think of right now is the aforementioned Instagram highlight. The Metalfamilyfan says:

I contacted Korg/Корж, (admin of @ metal_yama [and I believe one of the organizers of the Metal Family Meetup in Moscow]) and she asked Alina on one of the meetups: "if Ches were to be a father, what kind of father would he be?"

And she said: "The kind of that would say "kid, look at that birdie over there!" an then he would run away"

Someone's words are not the perfect source, but they did tag Metal Yama and from what I know they didn't disagree with what the author of the page said. if anyone has anything to say about this (disprove or definitely prove what I said) feel free to do so in a reblog, notes, DMs, send me an anonymous ask, or in any other way you feel comfortable with

5. Ches has literally been through the same thing, and we know how important the theme of the cycle of abuse is in Metal Family (or, in this case, the cycle of neglect? Abandonment? Idk)

You managed to hide your PREGNANCY from me! AND you've been hiding the child from me for a whole year!

YES, because you would've insisted on aborting him!

AND NOW I'M INSISTING ON PUTTING HIM UP FOR ADOPTION! OR I'LL LEAVE RIGHT NOW!

6. Here we can see Ches with a blonde girl. Nothing too special, probably just a one time hook up. He doesn't seem to be interested in her, and she seems to be annoyed with him.

But wait...

What is this?

Like, it doesn't even matter if there's actually a punk/rock/whatever band named MOM or not, I just think it's pretty weird to put it in this particular drawing of Ches and this random woman who is implied to have slept with him. It's not integral to Ches' character as, for example, Korol i Shut is. It's just... there. For some reason.

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

Alright, now, finally let's get to the second part of the theory: who is, exactly, his child?

The short answer is, according to this theory, her:

First, let me list every single instance of her appearing in canon (and by canon I mean everything made by the creators. Even with this definition of canon it's not much, I promise): The screenshot you can see above on the left (it's a screenshot from the second season and it appeared here), an instagram story posted by Alina (above, right), and two drawing with a lot of characters where you can spot the girl which I'm gonna call her PinkHair or PH for short, I'll mention them later I feel like I should mention this, comparing the sources of the images and the dates when they were posted, it's safe to assume that the screenshot in the classroom has the latest and final version of her design. The red hair most likely doesn't mean anything

1. Alright. So. we've seen Dee and PinkHair in a classroom together, so they're most likely related in some way, or at least they know each other. Their exact relationship doesn't matter here, because all that matters here is that they're related story-wise

Let's look at the first image. This is the banner of the main Metal Family channel. Ches is near Heavy (they get along quite well and I'm sure Heavy aspires to be like Ches in many ways), Dee (we can see his classmates/friends near him, they're all about his age), and we can see people related to Glam on the left side of the image (including Ches!), and Vicky's - on the right side (notice how the hell sign is also there)

Now, I'm not absolutely sure about this one, but it's still kind of weird - look at the image on the right (it's from ArtWave 2021 btw) - wouldn't it make more sense to put PinkHair near Dee? Also, Curiously enough, not only is she not close to Dee on this image, but she's also standing next to Ches.

Though this whole thing could be explained by art theory (too many small things in one corner of your drawing isn't great composition wise lol sorry PH) but I still can't quite skip this point

2. Remember the "MOM" lady? Fun fact, she has the exact same pearl earring that PinkHair has on the screenshot.

3. I'll put all similarities with her supposed parents in this point: Mother: * She's also pretty uh.. glam? for the lack of a better word? Or feminine in a traditional sense, yeah I think that's a better way to put it. Like colors they prefer to wear for example, and jewelry. Characters like that aren't common in Metal Family * She's gotta be a blonde. I can't imagine her being anything but blonde. If she manages to maintain that hair color as a brunette I'm just straight up assuming her character arc is gonna be killing God because these kind of people are capable of anything. I fear them with every fiber of my being. * I can't say for sure because of the shading, but it seems like they both have gray eyes, and she also has darker skin compared to most MF characters. Though, it's likely that Mom just applied a lot of fake tan Ches: * We know that Ches for sure has darker skin * AND grey eyes * There's also some possible personality similarities but I'm not sure if you can compare a child to a parent they've never really known in this way

That's about it, I suppose, I hope there isn't that many grammar mistakes and logically unfinished parts and whatnot in this post I forgot to edit lol x) I'm not sure how to end this post other than to remind you guys that almost all the points in this posts are inspired by the "тупая теория" highlight on the dee_girl_metalfamilyfan's Instagram page, so go check them out and subscribe, they post Dee x The Quest Girl fanart and and always credit the artists. Without them this post would be much, much shorter.

Thanks for reading this post, please feel free to let me know your thoughts on this post <3

#i tried to organize this but #yeah #also damn i hope PH's mother isn't in the same situation as Ches' :'(#at one point i misspelled parent in the context of ches as paren't and now i can't stop giggling like an idiot #these tags have completely different moods to them because I wrote them at different points in time btw #paren't #heh heh #metal family #metal family ches #metal family pinkhair #this seems like it's made up but if words end in ent or ant or something like that sometimes i automatically put an ' in without thinking

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manndo · 3 years

Text

let me hear you [javier peña x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: javier peña x female!reader

warning[s]: 18+ only due to swearing, sexual situations/references -- aka mentions of face fucking, marking/biting/claiming kink, mentions of piv sex, hints of sub!javi (idk what happened, but it happened!!); flashback; sprinkling of fluff; angst (no happy ending. . .for now??); one use of y/n cause it couldn’t be helped

word count: 3.0k

prompt[s]: inspired by this post from @pedropascalito

summary: javier just wanted — no he needed — to hear your voice.

author’s notes: alright, here we go — first javier peña fic! this honestly got really out of hand?? i had seen @pedropascalito’s post come up on my dashboard, and i got inspired to write this. however, this was supposed to be like, maybe 500 hundred words?? but like, apparently i can’t write drabbles and so here were are, 3,000 words later. yeaaa, so that is how that went down, lol. i do want to make note that this is also my first time at writing something semi-sexual — there isn’t any actual smut, but it is talked about/heavily implied. so again, if you aren’t 18+, please do not read/interact with this. also, if i missed tagging any warnings, please let me know. i am trying to make sure i tag all the warnings, but like i said, first time writing something with ~spice~ so i could have missed something. so please, let me know! :) as usual, all mistakes are my own. comments/likes/reblogs are loved and appreciated. enjoy lovelies! ☺️

It was his fucking fault.

Sure, he could blame it on the job, on Pablo fucking Escobar, but it wasn’t any of those things. It was him. It was always him.

“Come on,” he muttered as the first ring sounded through the receiver. Then a second, then a third. “Pick up the phone,” he begged softly after the fourth. “Please.” But, then there was a fifth ring and the tell tale click of your answering machine message about to begin. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath and pulled the phone away from his ear, ready to slam it back down on the receiver. But, he stopped himself and quickly brought the phone back to his ear.

“Hey, Y/N here! Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now. But, if you leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!”

---- ☆ ☆ ----

“Hey, I got you something,” Javier said as he entered your apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“A present? For me?” you asked, turning on your heel to face him. A smirk broke out over your face. “Something we can both enjoy?”

Javier chuckled softly and shook his head, taking a step toward you. “You are insatiable, princess,” he muttered as he reached out, brushing an errant strand of hair from your forehead.

You hummed. “I wonder where I get that from,” you said, your eyes wide and innocent as you reached out, forefinger and middle finger pressing against the bottom button of his tucked in red shirt.

Javier looked down at your hand as your fingers slowly walked their way up his chest, before coming to a halt at the third button from the top (the first two buttons were, as usually with Javier, already undone). With practiced ease, your fingers deftly worked open the button before the brushing against the exposed skin. Involuntarily, he shivered at the ghost of your touch, but it was gone before it started, your fingers now working on the next button. Before you could get to the second one, Javier reached out his free hand and wrapped it around your wrist, stopping your movements. You raised your eyebrow. “Maybe next time, princess,” he promised with a wink before letting go of your wrist. You didn’t continue your movements, and Javier took that as a sign to pull the bag he had been hiding from behind his back. He held it out between the two of you. You eyed it for a moment before taking it from him, and opening it. You furrowed your brow before reaching in and pulling out the box.

“An answering machine?” you asked, puzzled as you let the bag fall to the floor and held the box in your hands.

Javier hummed and shrugged his shoulder. “I noticed that you didn’t have one.”

“What gave it away?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, glancing back at him.

Javier rolled his eyes. “You need one, princess.”

“Do I? I have been doing perfectly fine without it for the past few months, Javi,” you explained, flipping the box over. He watched your eyes scan the back of the box.

Javier sighed, and rested his hands on his hips. “Hermosa,” he started, his voice low and serious. “What if someone can’t get a hold of you, hm? What then?”

“They call back, that’s what.”

Javier let out a small, irritated growl, and you looked up from the box to him. Slowly, you raised your eyebrow as you gave him a questioning look. Javier huffed, tightening his hands on his hips, but said nothing. He watched as your questioning gaze began to study him, head titling ever so slightly as your beautiful eyes carefully took him in. And, with every second that passed, every inch of him that you gazed upon, it seemed as if you were figuring out the real reason Javier had bought you an answering machine in the first place. That he wanted — no needed — to be able to leave you messages. That he needed you to know he had called, and that you’d call him back once you got his message. To let him know you were home. To let him know you were safe. Because, there were times, times when he called and the phone would just ring and ring and ring, and fuck. Those were the times his heart would pound in his chest, and his mind would fill with all these terrible fucking scenarios of what could have happened. It was his own nightmare filled by his own experiences, the job he had dedicated his life to, and this. This answering machine; it wouldn’t elevate all those thoughts, Javier knew that, knew that it wouldn’t make them all magically disappear. But, there would be some temporary comfort from his aberrant mind.

“Alright, Javi,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. Javier watched as you took a step toward him, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’ll keep it. But, you,” you said, taking the box in your hand and pressing it against the middle of his chest. Javier’s hand immediately came up to cover yours, holding it and the box in place. “Are helping me set it up.”

Javier smiled as he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. “Yes, ma’am.”

It hadn’t taken long to set up the machine itself. However, the recording was a different story.

The first time you tried to record yourself, Javier had interrupted you with a playful smack to your ass that had caught you completely off guard, causing you to yelp in the middle of your sentence. You had scolded him for his behavior, telling him to keep his hands to himself. With a smirk, he promised, but you didn’t believe him as you erased the recording and started again. And, you had every right not to believe him — because a moment later, he reached out, running his fingers up the side of your ribcage.

“Javi!” you squeed, side bending as you squirmed to get away from him before he could attack again. However, he was quicker, and was able to get one last swipe at your sides before you got fully out of his reach. He let out a small laugh, a grin pulling at his lips as you huffed, a few strands of your hair blowing with your breath, and placed your hands on your hips. “What did I tell you?” you asked, glaring down at him.

“Sorry, must have forgotten,” he mumbled, acting nonchalantly as he raised his beer bottle to his lips and took a swig, but his dark eyes were dancing with mischief.

You narrowed your eyes. “Forgotten my ass, you little shit,” you mumbled, stepping back to where you had been standing before. “Hands to yourself, Peña. You hear me?”

He stood up from the couch. “Alright, alright. Hands to myself,” he repeated and you eyed him for a moment. Javier could tell you were still skeptical that he would do something. “Promise,” he said before he breezed by you, heading toward the kitchen to grab another beer. Javier could feel your eyes on his back as he dropped the bottle in the trash and opened to the fridge to swipe a fresh one. When he turned around to head back in the living room, you were still eying him wearily, but you had already deleted the previous recording. You started recording again, your eyes finally leaving his to look down at the machine. A wicked grin spread across his face. In four quick strides, he was standing next to you and before you could give him a warning glare, Javier had leaned down and sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder blade (he silently thanked God you had chosen to wear a tank top that day).

You had, after all, said hands only.

“Javier,” you groaned, and for a brief moment, Javier had expected you to pull away, irritated by his actions. But, you didn’t pull away, and out of the corner of his eye, he could see you grasping at the corners of the end table, knuckles turning white. He mentally grinned, and bit down a little harder before worrying the skin between his teeth, and electing a whimper from your lips that went straight to his cock.

Javier knew you fucking loved this — the biting, the marking, the claiming. You had never said anything out right, but oh, Javier knew; he knew it by the way he found you admiring the marks he’d made the night before in the mirror, your hands gently running over the bruises. He knew by the mewling, the whimpers, the groans of pleasure you made. Or, his absolute favorite, the way your pussy clenched deliciously around his cock if he was buried inside of you.

Javier gave one last pinch of the skin between his teeth before pulling away. He grinned at the abused skin, could see the indentation of his teeth and imagined the beautiful colors it would turn within the hour. The thought sent another spike of arousal straight to his cock. You whipped your head around to face him, and though you were glaring at him, it didn’t matter. He could see the arousal in your face; the way your pupils were dilated, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly, the hitch in your breath. The grin on Javier’s face grew. “You only said hands, princess,” he said, holding his hands up, the unopened beer bottle still in one hand as he took a step back before letting himself fall back on to the couch.

“Peña,” you growled, voice low, warning, but Javier could hear it. That tinge of arousal. “I’m warning you.”

Javier chuckled, low and deep in his throat. He locked eyes with you, and leaned forward, elbows coming to rest on his knees. “Warning me?” he asked, keeping his tone light as he looked away from you, and grabbing the bottle opener he’d left on the coffee table. “Warning me about what, princess?” He swiftly popped the bottle top off, and dropped the little metal top and opener back on the table. Javier leaned into the couch, resting one arm over the back of it as he looked at you, that grin still pulling at his lips. He took a long, slow swig of beer. He kept his eyes on you as he pulled the bottle away from his lips, waiting for you to say something. However, you were completely silent, but your eyes weren’t. No, they were still screaming for him. “Come on,” Javier started again, his voice an octave lower than before. He licked his lips, and watched as your eyes followed the movement. “What’s this warning you’re gonna give me?”

The seconds ticked by, the two of you silently watching each other. You were studying him so hard Javier couldn’t help but almost feel naked under your gaze, even with all his clothes on. He forced himself not to move, not to shift against the couch as he waited for you to say something, do something. He took a swig of his beer, and watched as your demeanor slowly shifted. Your back straighten, and a sly smirked pulled at your lips. He watched as you came to stand next to him, your thigh brushing against his knee.

Javier felt the tables were turning on him.

“Instead of a warning, how about this?” you started, resting one hand on the back of the couch while the other came to rest on high on Javier’s thigh as you leaned down, your lips only a few inches away from his. The hand on his thigh squeezed and Javier couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his lips. “You let me record this tiny, tiny, little message,” you explained, eyes flickering down to Javier’s lips, then to his crotch. Javier watched you lick your lips, hand sliding farther up his thigh, coming to a stop just short of where he wanted you to. “Without interruptions.” Your finger traced the outline of his half-hard cock, causing another groan to escape Javier’s lips as his eyes fell closed, hand gripping the bottle of beer in a death grip. “And, I’ll let you fuck my mouth,” you finished, and without warning, covered Javier’s clothed cock with your palm and pressed down, grinding your palm against him.

“Fuck,” Javier hissed, hips bucking into your hand, but as soon as it started, your hand was gone — and you were gone too. When his eyes opened, you were already standing up straight over him, looking down at him with that shit eating grin. Your eyes were dancing with arousal and mischief. Oh, how the tables had turned.

“You think you can be a good boy for me, Javi?” you asked, breathlessly and wanton, a sound that went straight to his cock. He nodded his head so quick that he was afraid he might break his neck. A wicked grin pulled at your lips as you turned your attention back to the machine.

It was the most painful ten minutes of his life because, of course, you wouldn’t like the first take. Or the second, or the third. Javier knew why you didn’t like them — it wasn’t cause you sounded bad, or you stammered ever so slightly in the middle. No, you were teasing him. You were purposely messing this up just so you could watch him squirm as he waited, his body humming in anticipation as his poor cock strained against his jeans. Javier had thought about shucking his belt, unzipping his pants, and taking out his cock, just to get some sort of relief, maybe even give it a few tugs. But, he wasn’t even sure if he was allowed to. Jesus Christ, allowed to — anyone else, and Javier wouldn’t have hesitate. But you, there was something about you that had him giving up the control he constantly needed. Maybe it was the way that when he pushed, you would push back— that constant back and forth that turned him on to no fucking end.

“Javi,” you called out, voice soft and practically singing. Javier snapped his head to look up at you. You were standing there, all doe eyed and innocent looking, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’m finished.” You took a step toward him, and reached out, giving his knee a squeeze. Without hesitation, he let his legs fall open and you came to stand between them. “See,” you mumbled, as you ran your hand from his knee to his thigh and back down again. “I knew you could be a good boy.” Javier’s cock twitched in the confines of his jeans. “And you know what good boys get?” You slowly went down, falling to your knees in front of him, and God, was it such a pretty picture. You grabbed the practically empty bottle of beer from his hand and set it on the end table beside you. “Good boys,” you started, hands coming to rest on his belt, “get rewarded.”

---- ☆ ☆ ----

The obnoxious beep pulled Javier out of his thoughts. “Fuck,” he muttered before realizing that he had said that out loud. “Shit, it’s—” he started and slammed his hand on the payphone box. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s me, princess. I wanted to — I needed—” Javier felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—I needed to hear your voice,” he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly. He quickly turned and glanced behind him. There was nobody near him, nobody that could hear the desperation — the absolutely fucking heartbreak because that’s what this was, even if he didn’t want to admit it — in his voice. But, still this was a shitty fucking place to be doing this.

But, he hadn’t thought — he saw the payphone and just called, the need to hear your voice so fucking strong. It had only been a week, but he fucking missed you. He missed everything about you, but God, did he miss your voice. He missed the way you sounded when you greeted him in the soft morning light after the two of you had woken up, limbs tangled around each other to the point where Javier wasn’t sure where one of you began and the other ended. Or, the way you sounded when you greeted him at your door after work, a smile on your face and your arms open, willing to be whatever he needed after a long, rough day. The sound of your voice when you whispered sweet nothings into his ear before you both fell asleep. The sound of your laughter when he told one of his jokes, or when he tickled your sides because he knew you were ticklish. And God, he missed the sound of your voice when you said his name. Javier. Javi. Peña. Pendejo (the one name usually reserved for when he’d done something particularly, utterly stupid or reckless). It didn’t matter what you called him, or even when you did — when you were happy, sad, angry, sleepy, aroused — he just missed it, so fucking much.

Fuck, he just missed you.

And now, here he was, standing at a goddamn payphone, leaving you a vague fucking message. He coughed, and softly banged his hand against the payphone’s metal box. “Please cal—” The line went dead, the recorder cutting him off, and leaving Javier with the numbing sound of a dial tone.

“Fuck!” he cursed as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Javier looked down at it for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh, eyes falling closed once more as he let the phone come to rest against his forehead. “Fuck,” he whispered again, his fingers clenching around the phone. The dial tone was softer now, not pressed against his ear, but he could still hear it. It was still as loud as ever, still ringing in his ear, taunting him and reminding Javier of what he had lost.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña imagine #javier peña imagines #javier pena imagine #javier pena imagines #narcos imagine #narcos images #my writing

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lululawrence · 3 years

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lululawrence’s May 2021 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost

May somehow managed to escape my grasp and here we are again! I got a weekend away from the kids this month, which allowed me the chance to finally read for hours on end, and I therefore have quite a few fics to talk about! They were truly amazing, I loved every single one, and I hope you appreciate them too!

If you’d like to hear me share my excitement about these fics verbally and in more detail, you can listen to this month’s podcast here.

As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (42k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, A/B/O, Royalty AU, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Innocent Harry, Sheltered Harry, Arranged Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, but HOW DO THEY GET THERE?? lol, Mpreg, Heat/Rut, Poor as shit sex education lmao, Okay but for real the world building in this was incredible, I can still see the pictures in my mind that I conjured up for certain parts of this fic, It is incredible and the PINING AND ANGST OMG)

reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress / thepolourryexpress (4k, E, Harry/Louis, Girl Direction, This one is a bit hard to explain lmao, ....Non-Established Relationship.... relationship, it makes sense in the fic lol, clueless idiots in love, there we go, friends to lovers, humor, fluff, This is beyond sweet and fucking sexy)

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (11k, NR, Harry/Niall, 1D A/B/O Fest fic, Alpha Harry, Omega Niall, Touch Deprivation, Nesting, Cuddling, Scenting, Ace Harry, Fluff, Okay listen this fic was so fucking soft I cannot express to you, It was HEALING, I cryyyyyy it was just so beautiful)

What if I'm someone you won't talk about? by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 (58k, M, Harry/Louis, Fine Line Fest fic, Song Fic, Based on Falling, Famous/Non-Famous, Childhood Sweethearts, Exes to Lovers, Kind of but not really at the same time?, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending but there’s fucking angst okay? lol, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Work, Exploitation, References to Rape, PTSD, There’s a lot of dark shit in here, please please please read the tags and keep yourself safe, But if you can handle it then fuck it was an fascinating story for sure!)

When Least Expected by @all-these-larrythings / Rearviewdreamer (22k, M, Harry/Louis, Quarantine Fic, Single Parent Louis, Teacher Harry, Mentions of Depression, Online Dating? Kind of?, Maybe it’s more like Long Distance dating, except they’re in the same city, anyway, Pining, Flirting, Oblivious boys, Soft, This fic was the epitome of soft, It was so incredibly healing to read it, So cathartic and beautiful and lovely, It just made me so happy and at peace reading this fic, and I really didn’t expect that from a quarantine fic tbh)

so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby) by @rockstarlouis / theweightofmywords (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, New Year’s Fic, Meet Cute, Louke are together at the beginning but it doesn’t last long, Work Party, but neither Louis or Harry work there lololol, Humor, Drinking, Dancing, This fic was just so short and sweet and fun I loved it)

Pound Cake by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Butthole Series fic, Hurt Louis, Sad Louis, Harry’s birthday, Friends to Lovers, Crack fic lmao, Misunderstandings, This fic was so funny but also somehow sweet, while still being about buttholes, Lauren is a magician what can I say lol)

Get Burned By the Fire by Anonymous (13k, NR, Shawn/Niall, Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, based on Small Talk, Bartender Niall, Mysterious Shawn, Casual Sex, I think that’s how you’d define their arrangement? lol, Pining, Harry and Louis are together and Niall’s besties and coworkers, They’re hilarious through all of this, Even though it’s casual sex or meant to be anyway, It defo is also like... a Breakup Fic, and also Exes to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, It’s all complicated and sooooo fucking gooooood)

The Shooting Star Of Promises And Fears by darkpoets (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Soulmates, Wishes, This fic is incredibly hard to explain or describe, because the style and feel of it is incredibly unique, It feels almost floaty while you read it, if that makes sense)

Getting a Room by bluespring864 (2k, G, Lewis/Niall, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Banter, Listen this fic is short but packed to the brim with feels, omgggggg SO MANY FEELS, and so so lovely the way it comes together, but also hilarious too?, it’s just very THEM, I could also hear all the lines Lewis says in this fic in his accent, I heard his voice speaking them in my head, and I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud as I sat reading, surrounded by strangers lmao, It was so awkward but worth it)

Caves End by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (40k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Farmer Louis, Rancher Louis is maybe better?, I’ll put both cause Dee said farmer lmao, Footballer Harry, Australia fic, Horseback Riding, Angst, Miscommunication, Dee’s tags about that are hilarious please read them, Hurt/Comfort, This fic is just EVERYTHING, okay, It was so incredibly good)

and all I think about is you and safer by your side (parts 4 and 5 of where the lights are beautiful) by @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (1k each, T, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Mentions of Heat, Drabbles, Listen this whole series is amazing, and if you haven’t read it then these drabbles won’t have the same power they do otherwise, but they are SO DAMN GOOD OKAY)

Counterculture by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (6k, E, Harry/Louis, Omega Harry Fest, A/B/O, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Famous/Non-Famous, Underground Clubs, Pack Dynamics, Scenting, Public Sex, Orgies, Pregnancy and Lactation Kink, Like... this fic is FILTHY while still having super cool worldbuilding elements in it, and it’s kinky as shit cause Sada, In other words this is fantastic)

Say Something by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (105k, E, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Older Harry, Age Difference, Heat/Rut Partners, Friends to Lovers, Kind of?, It’s Complicated lol, MPreg, Divorced Harry, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Harry has a lot of shit to work through, It all works out and it’s so fucking good)

The Until Series by @allwaswell16 / allwaswell16 (62k total, Harry/Louis (parts 1 and 3), Niall/Shawn (Part 2), Big Bang fic and Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, Seriously the whole albums is basically the inspiration lol, Cowboy Harry, Child Actor Harry, Cowboy Shawn, Songwriter Louis, Singer Niall, Farm Fic, Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding, So good just all of it, Dumb boys in love lol)

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (50k, T, Harry/Louis, but also Harry/Nick at the beginning, Big Bang fic, Girl Direction, Based on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, It’s like an extension and starts where the movie ended, So cool in that way I loved it, Grimmy and Louis are step-siblings, Friends to Lovers, No Cheating if that’s a concern, Sexuality Crisis but it’s more of like a Gay Awakening, Coming of Age story in that way, So freaking soft like omg, I just really freaking loved this fic)

#mine #fic rec #my fic rec #28th appreciation #fic writer appreciation #fic list #may 2021 fic list

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

On the run

Authors note - this is a series of closly related one shots hence tagged as soft!reader. This is for Ambers challenge! Hope you like it! This is like there was only one room instead of there was only one bed.

Please do not steal or repost my works on any other site. Reblogs are welcome.

Run through - You have to go on the run with your husband and share a room with Bucky.

Warnings - smut, daddy kink, voyeurism (fucking right next to Bucky lol), cockwarming, angst

Pairing - Steve Rogers x soft!reader

Word count - 3.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You paced back and forth in your living room. It wasn’t exactly yours but it had been your home for the past four years. Your floor to ceiling windows gave you an extensive and broad view of new York City. You were on the highest floor of the tower, it made the huge city seem so city. Usually the lights soothed you whenever you were anxious. But you weren’t sure if you had ever been so scared. Scared for your husbands life, scared for your future.

Steve had broke the law. Your Steve, the Captain America. It was so ironic. He was declared a terrorist and a wanted man. You felt as if this was a fever dream. Never in a million years did you think something like this would happen.

From what you knew Steve refused to sign the accords. Which you understood, he had his reasons and they were completely valid. You hoped the team would work it out amongst themselves and come to a compromise somehow. But from the looks of it, that will never happen. No one really asked for your opinion. Even if you were like family to them, at the end of the day you were a simple accountant turned stay at home wife. A job you had to give up to be with your Steve. When it got too dangerous for you to go out in the world. You hoped maybe just maybe, Steve would do the same for you. He talked of retiring, becoming a high school professor or working on his art. And like an idiot you let yourself indulge in that fantasy and got sweeped away.

Your life wasn’t bad by any means, in fact it was too perfect. Your friends were often envious of your perfect marriage and your dutiful husband. But you wanted more for Steve. You wanted him to slow down a bit, enjoy life, to not wake up screaming in the middle of the night in a pool of his own sweat and tears. You loved all of him, but you loved him the most when he was happy. Being an Avenger took a huge toll on him. You just wanted him to be happy.

You were being ‘escorted’ to the interrogation room. You had only been there once, to see Steve. You never thought you would be the one being interrogated.

You couldn’t help but feel resentful. You were in this grey room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, being asked all sort of intrusive questions as if you were a criminal, because of him. You gave up everything for him. You completely gave yourself to him. You didn’t have much left.

“Are you sure?” The man in the black suit asked again.

“Yes I’m sure! I think I would remember if my husband contacted me” you snapped.

“Alright. Please calm down ma'am” He said and you rolled your eyes at his patronising tone “You can leave for now but you’re not allowed to leave the premises. Let us know as soon as Rogers contacts you. If you don’t you will be an accomplice to his crimes”

His words echoed in your head on the way to ‘your' apartment. You sat back on your couch ready to drown your worries and your sorrows in some wine. The portrait Steve painted of you in a short white sundress, playing with some birds like a Disney Princess, hung on your wall almost taunting you. It was all superficial wasn’t it?

All the gifts he gave you, all the sketches he made of you. Every time he held the door open for you or tenderly made love to you, looking into your eyes and staring deep into your soul. Did all of that really matter? If he didn’t consider you or your relationship while doing something as brash as – you didn’t even know what he did. His duty won over his love for you. It always would.

You should’ve known. Your mother warned you. Told you you’re not the kind of person that would be fine with being the second or even fifth priority. Too possessive, too loving. People like you only ever get their hearts broken.

What did the future hold for you? You knew Steve, or at least you thought you did. You knew he wouldn’t help a war criminal. A terrorist. Sure said terrorist was Steve’s friend, but Steve was the kind of person that held others accountable. But at the end of the day Steve was just a human and a softie. You could see him being so loyal and going till the end of the line for his buddy.

You hummed as you felt a hand caressing your cheek. The feeling of his calloused fingers felt so familiar. It was a nice dream, an escape from this dystopian reality. You’d like to live in it forever but then your eyes snapped open as you heard him call out your name.

You sat up quickly sat up straight “Steve” you blurted out as you looked at your husband. In a dark blue, red, and white which was dirty enough to be black, suit. His short blond hair a bit frizzy, his left cheek blue and purple, unlike the neat and tidy look he usually sports. You looked into his eyes, which looked so tired and exhausted.

“We have to get out of here right now” He said gravely. But then his face softened. “It’s not safe here for you doll. I can’t leave you here, where I won’t be able to protect you” he said cupping your face with his hands.

You should have asked him a million questions. If what they were saying was true. Did he really help a terrorist? Attack his friends, whom you considered your family. But you didn’t. You simply crashed your lips upon his, taking his breathe away. It was soft, sweet but needy. Just like most of your reunion kisses. “I’ll follow you anywhere Steve” You said pulling away and looking into his sky blue eyes.

He gave your forehead a soft kiss before pulling you up. Telling you to collect your things as quickly as you can. You changed into a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, packing a few more t-shirts and pants.

“Hurry up doll we don’t have long” he urged you.

You made your way out of the apartment. You were walking to the elevator thinking you would be going down on it. “No, y/n we have to take the stairs. Come on” he took your hand.

He lead you to the emergency exit, one you didn’t even know existed. He was always good at reading and remembering maps. You smiled thinking of the time he easily got you both out of a very complicated Halloween maze.

“Steve why are we going upstairs?” You asked panting and trying your best to keep up with his face. You weren’t blessed with the super serum, you weren’t a huge fan of working out either.

“We have to take the jet and leave the country” He said rubbing your back. After a few seconds he hauled you over his shoulder “Hold on” He said sprinting up the stairs.

“Wouldn’t they notice us leaving in a literal quinjet?” You asked “What happens if you get caught Steve? What will they do to you?”

“Don’t worry about that right now” You wanted to laugh. Not worry? You were literally fleeing the country. How could you not worry.

You finally made it to the terrace, shivering in Steves hold against the chilly air Steve set you down in the jet. Before working on the kinks to get it started.

Surprisingly you made it out without anyone following you but you held your breathe. Not letting your guard down until you knew you were completely safe. As soon as you were in the air Steve put the jet on stealth mode. Finally letting his back rest against his chair and letting out a deep sigh.

“Steve” you couldn’t help the quiver in your voice trying your best to hold in your tears. “what is going on? Is it true? What they were saying?”

“What were they saying?” he said quirking a brow at you.

“That you helped a terrorist and you’re like a... war criminal now” you struggled to get the words out. Uncomfortable to even think such a thing could happen.

“You really think I could do something like that” He rested his elbows on the arms of his seat staring you down.

“I don’t. That’s why I’m here. But I have a right to know what happened”

His brows remained furrowed, as if he didn’t believe you. You had no idea how he managed to turn the whole conversation around and put you on the spot. “It’s Bucky” He said, his hard face softening.

Bucky, his best friend. Steve had carried the guilt of his death on his shoulders for years. Which only got worse when he found out that Bucky was indeed alive, being used as a weapon by hydra. “They tried to frame him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s been suffering for years”

You briskly got up from your seat as you saw the tears escape his eyes. You were selfish. Only caring about how this whole ordeal was affecting you. You couldn’t even imagine what Steve must have gone through. You sat on his lap, hugging him close to you as he held onto you so tightly, as if you would disappear if he didn’t. “Promise me you’ll never leave me” he choked out against the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair lightly scratching his head with your nails, in the way you knew he liked. “I would never leave you Steve. I promise”

Over five hours later you made it to Moldova. A small country in eastern Europe. Steve hid the jet, saying he would need it later, since he had to come up with a plan to rescue your friends. Which would be much harder than rescuing you, they were in a maximum security prison, in the middle of a freaking ocean.

You tried your best to not think about that when you were on your way to a motel. You were nervous to meet Bucky, who Steve said would be there with you. You had never met any of Steve’s family. Since well they were dead. Back when you started dating he wasn’t really friends with his coworkers, so you never really received ‘the shovel talk' from them.

This was nerve wracking. What if he thought you weren’t worthy of Steve? Bucky was the only link to Steve’s past, his oldest friend, surely his opinion would mean the world to Steve.

“Hey it’ll be okay” Steve said squeezing your thigh from the drivers seat, something he liked to do whenever you both drove together. “I would never let anything happen to you. You know that right?” He looked at you before looking back at the icy roads.

“It’s not that. I know you’ll keep me safe Stevie. If nothing else I believe in that” You said as he gave you a small smile “this is all just overwhelming you know? I mean would we ever get to go back?” You asked although you knew neither of you knew the answer. “and then there’s Bucky”

“What about Bucky?” he asked.

“What if... he doesn’t like me? I know it’s silly!” You whined before he could make a snarky comment “We have other things to worry about and whatever but I want to make a good impression. Is there something I should remember not to do? Or to do?” You scrunched your nose at your strange question and this stranger reality. Where you get to meet your husbands best friend at the worst timing.

“Uh...” He contemplated your words for a minute “Well don’t hug him. I know you like to do that” he let out a laugh at just how sweet and likeable you are and how Bucky would love you the second he lays his eyes on you “Don’t worry sweetheart. Bucky’s the last thing you have to worry about. You wouldn’t have to even try to get him to like you”

You finally parked at the motel. Ever the gentleman, Steve held the door open for you holding your hand as you made your way up the shaky stairs. Steve knocked three times on the door before the tall brunette whom you recognised as Bucky from all his old pictures opened the door. He let you both in. You took off your coat the room wasn’t as warm as you’d like but it was definitely better than the harsh cold outside.

You watched as Steve embraced Bucky in a hug asking him how he was doing. You tried not to let your gaze linger too long on him, but you couldn’t help but admire him. He was a few inches shorter than Steve, but he had the same alert soldiery stance as Steve and the similar Brooklyn accent. Not to mention he was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. He definitely looked more aged and somehow different than in the photos.

Steve introduced you “This is my wife” He said and Bucky gave you a small smile.

“This punk couldn’t stop talking about you” He said grabbing Steve by the back of his neck.

You were happy to see that even if they both had changed over time, their friendship and bond remained the same. “Good things I hope” You playfully squint your eyes at Steve.

“I’d never say anything bad about you doll” He walked towards you kissing your forehead and putting the backpack you packed on the bed. “You must be tired, you wanna go to bed?” He sat down on the bed cracking his neck, the stress of the last few days getting to him.

You finally had a chance to look around the room. It was what you’d expect from a shady motel. White floors which were now almost yellow, torn wallpaper and an old television. But then you looked at the twin beds. Looks like you’ll have to share one with Steve. You hoped he would be able to get proper sleep, with how tired he looked he really needed it. “I’m tired?” you teased him.

After freshening up and changing into your night clothes, you settled on the bed, sighing in relief as your sore back touched the hard mattress. Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of Bucky settling in on his bed beside you and his metal hand peeking out of his long sleeved shirt. You wondered what it looked it, did it hurt him? How was he able to move it so naturally as if it’s a part of his body? You really had to bite your tongue to not let your curiosity get the best of you.

“This will have to do for tonight sweetheart” Steve said spooning you from behind and pulling you into him. You sighed out as you felt his bare and warm chest through your tank top. You wouldn’t have to worry about being chilly. Bucky turned to lay on his side away from the both of you.

You hummed as Steve snaked a hand past your tank top and resting it on your soft tummy. Drawing small random patterns on it. Bucky turned off the lights, it wasn’t completely dark, there was plenty of moonlight coming through the window. You insisted on helping Steve out of his steath suit, so you could check in on his wounds and treat them, it was a post mission ritual for you both. But Steve refused to let you in as he changed in the bathroom alone. You feared that his wounds were worse than he was letting on.

“I missed you princess” he whispered in your hair, snapping out of your thoughts. “did you miss me?”

Bucky was snoring and seemed to be in a deep slumber but just to be safe you kept your voice low “I did” You said wiggling your ass against his crotch. You weren’t surprised to find his pretty hard erection there.

“Yeah?” He smirked ghosting his fingers at the elastic of your shorts “how much” before he could dip his fingers your hands stopped him

“Not now” you whispered harshly “Bucky is sleeping right there” you scolded. How he could even think about sex right now you had no idea. You would be mortified if you Bucky woke up to find you both in the middle of it.

“We’ll just be quiet” He said slipping his fingers past your shorts and panties and between your thighs. You wanted to stop him. You really did. But you realised just how much you missed him when he brushed his fingers against your warm folds.

“I can’t be quiet! You know that” You whined as he dipped his finger in your heat. You had no idea what had gotten into him. He loved making you moan, scream and cry. Did he want Bucky to hear you both make love? Steve was more perverted than he let on but this was something even you didn’t know.

“You will try for me won’t you?” He rolled your clit between his fingers and kissed your temple to sooth your thrashing “don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? Hm?” he asked driving three of his fingers inside of you to warm you up.

You should be embarrassed at the sinful noises that your cunt was making, you could hear them clearly since you had to be quiet. But you weren’t. In the moment you just needed to cum. “I wanna cum daddy please” Your voice muffled against the pillow you had pushed your face into to drown out your moans.

“Then cum doll” he said thrusting his fingers into you with purpose.

“I wanna cum on your cock daddy” He groaned at that.

Pulling his fingers out of you. He pulled your panties and your shorts down, bringing the blankets up to your neck “You comfy princess?” You nodded. He pulled his cock out of his sweats nudging it between your buttcheeks. He pulled your bare leg placing it over his hip and holding it there as he slowly pushed into you. He pushed his other hand under you to hold onto and fondle your breasts.

In any other situation this position would be uncomfortable but right now you felt as warm and safe to be surrounded by him. You didn’t feel the need to cum anymore, content with the warmth and the weight of his cock inside you. His steady breathing and heart beat lulling you to sleep.

He didn’t like that. He snapped his hips and pushed his cock deeper inside you. “Don’t fall asleep on me now princess” He warned as he slowly fucked into you.

You dug your nails into his hand which was squeezing your breast as you tried your best to contain your moans. You let out a mewl as Steve stroked your clit while making slow love to you. You were tipped over the edge, cuming hard around his cock and on his fingers.

“Shit” He said as the pace of his thrusts increased “you’re so tight doll. So snug” He bit your ear to keep from groaning out loud. He was about to pull out of you, to clean you up with a washcloth. He wouldn’t trust the towels the hotels provided but he did see you pack a couple, he could use those.

But you tightened the grip of your leg on his hip, forcing him to stay in place. You looked over your shoulder and he could barely make out your pout in the dim light “Stay inside please. Keep me warm” You requested. He had never been good at saying no to you.

So he pecked your lips and chose to forget about the myriad of problems facing him and all of you. At least for now.

Tags will be in the reblogs! If you want to join my taglist click the link in the bio or leave me an ask!

I am sorry about the shitton of nicknames. I just like sweet nicknames ok🥺🥺

#ambersanyficchallenge #sweatersanyficchallenge #steve rogers x soft!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x original character #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x oc #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

Text

Build-A-Bear

Part Ten

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker, Steve, Sam

Warnings: mentions of smut (bondage, anal play, breeding kink, slight voyeurism), language, mentions of arson

Summary: Now that reader is stuck back at her apartment, she can finally feel safe again — until that safety is completely compromised. And more than her physical safety is put on the line.

Author’s Note: I’m so fucking stoked for this chapter!!! This is when it starts to get wild!! I hope you all like it! If you even read this, you should let me know who you think the person in question is (you’ll know what I mean when you read it lol). And as always, feel free to buy me a coffee if you want!

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed

Series Masterlist

Spending the next two weeks sequestered in your apartment wasn’t terrible, but it just cemented your assumption that you couldn’t even pretend to be normal anymore. At least when you were at the Tower, you felt like another face in the crowd compared to the Avengers.

Accommodating your work from home setup wasn’t easy, but you all made it work. Peter worked with you when he was back for a weekend. He even helped you go through more of your fan mail, if you could even call it that. There were some parcels that were genuine fan mail, people wishing you well and young girls saying you inspired them to pursue STEM careers; there were some death threats that you had to send to local law enforcement to investigate; there were mostly creepy letters from men you could only assume were older than your father. One man wrote that he wanted to find out if you smelled as beautiful as you looked. Cringe. Another wrote about how he wanted to suck on your toes until they were wrinkly. Gag. The worst was a man who said he wanted to be sandwiched between you and your dad. Barf.

Steve and Sam used the scanner your dad made to check all your mail before it was even brought upstairs. None had been poisoned or set to explode, but some contained explicit items that you were more than happy to not see.

It was still slightly traumatizing when Steve waltzed in with a package in his arms and said, “Hey [Y/N], I didn’t toss this one because it doesn’t look like it’s from a person. Did you order something from… Romantix?”

You paused mid-chew as you, Bucky, and Sam all sat in your living room enjoying a nice Saturday lunch. Bucky wasn’t fazed, continuing to eat his food; Sam, however, busted out laughing.

“What’s in it, Steve?” Sam asked loudly, clearly trying to rile you up.

“Uh, all the scanner showed was a couple small golf balls -- I think -- and what looked like a top? And a remote.”

Sam kept giggling to himself, Bucky and Steve both looked confused as hell. You moved to grab the box from Steve but Sam beat you to it, tutting at you as you reached for it again.

“Uh-uh. We should open it to make sure everything is safe,” Sam teased.

“Everything in there is safe, I promise,” you swore. When you tried to steal the package back, Sam yoinked it further from your grasp with a devious smile. Your cheeks were burning hot at the thought of the inevitable. Sam was going to open your box, Steve was going to turn red as a tomato, and Bucky was… well, hopefully he was going to take you to your room for the rest of the day.

And before you could try to snatch the box away again, Sam ripped the packing tape off and pulled out the first item: kegel balls.

“What are those?” Steve asked.

“Don’t worry about it!” you shouted, grabbing the vacuum-packed, heavy silver balls from a still giggling Sam. He reached back into the box and you realized you may just have to suck it up and let him have his show-and-tell.

“Here’s that ‘top’ you were talking about,” Sam joked. And in his hands sat… the butt plug.

“Sam, stop! Literally no one here needs to see this except me and Bucky,” you whined.

“In that case, I’m curious. What else is in there?” Bucky asked, leaning forward to peek inside.

“Bucky! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Sam shrugged and handed the box to Bucky so he could rummage through it instead. You couldn’t really complain as much now that your boyfriend was doing the snooping instead.

“What the -- oh,” Bucky said as he lifted the next item: a remote… tied to a pair of thin black panties.

“Why would those come together?” Steve asked. You weren’t sure if he was serious or not because he may have been born in the early 1900s, but he would’ve had to have checked out modern porn and kinks by now, right?

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows. His lips were quirked in an annoying smirk. Bucky sat with a similar expression; at least you knew he had brushed up on modern sex.

“They’re vibrating panties,” you deadpanned. Steve fortunately didn’t look too surprised, he just raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“What’s next, Buck?” Sam prompted him to continue unpacking.

“Oh -- oh -- oh yeah. We can have some fun with this,” Bucky laughed as he lifted up the collar and ball gag.

“Damn, [Y/N]. You’re a freaky freak,” Sam laughed. Bucky didn’t even deny this; he just laughed with his friend before continuing with the last items.

“And…” Bucky started to explain. He quickly cut himself off when he saw what was in his hands -- and covering the bottom of the package. Dozens of pieces of lingerie, from skimpy little lace pieces to a loose-fitting satin teddy to a sheer black robe. “Oh, that’s for my eyes only,” he finally said.

Sam and Steve grumbled in response but didn’t push it. They probably realized getting a full reveal of the shit you and Bucky wanted to mess around with was more than they would’ve gotten if you had your way.

And just as you hoped, Bucky took you to your bedroom for a few hours. You found out you didn’t love the plug and the ball gag made you drool, but the collar had a little leash Bucky was able to pull on while hitting it from the back... you liked that one.

From that day on, you made sure to tell the boys when you’d have a package coming in. Bucky definitely perked up at the mention of more mail like that coming his way.

•

Two weeks after the Romantix debacle, Peter was back in town and stoked to help you go through mail again. He didn’t like all the creepy letters, but he was really good at making you laugh at them instead of constantly cringing and gagging. Bucky and Steve even sat to help, but Sam said if he was going to keep cooking for everyone, he didn’t have to sort through mail. And none of you wanted to pass up on his classic New Orleans recipes.

You all sat around your dining room table with your small dining TV playing old episodes of “Criminal Minds” as background noise. The amount of mail you received definitely dropped with time, but you’d still have a hefty pile at the end of the week. The creepy letters were shredded but you liked responding to the nicer letters, so there was a “shred” pile and a “respond” pile on either side of the “open next” pile.

You were all working in near-silence aside from the quiet dialogue on the TV and the occasional clink of pans from Sam in the kitchen. With four of you working, you’d be able to read through everything in about half an hour. As you neared the bottom of the pile, you grabbed a large manilla envelope and felt the weight of whatever was inside. It couldn’t have been dangerous because the boys scanned everything, but you carefully tugged it open nonetheless. You held it upside down and gently shook out the contents: a letter, a smaller envelope, and a DVD. A few people sent mix CDs or fan videos on DVDs and flash drives, so you were initially excited about this one… until you started reading the letter. The choppy typewriter print quickly turned muddled as your blood froze in your veins.

My darling [Y/N],

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, I don’t think I shall. I’ll cut to the chase instead: I’m the reason the world knows who you are. Guess I’m a little loose-lipped. Oops! But I needed you to know I’m serious somehow. Or else you wouldn’t see this as a true threat.

I know your little secret. I’ve seen more than I originally planned, but you gave me plenty to work with in my free time. You look beautiful while you sleep; you look even more beautiful in the throes of passion. But I’m not looking to have your body.

Unless you get $2,000,000 to your little doorman Matthew to bring to me by the end of the week, the enclosed pictures will make their way to the desk of daddy dearest. And we both know he won’t appreciate seeing who is penetrating his daughter.

And if that $2,000,000 doesn’t find me by the end of next week, the video on the DVD will be released to the world.

I look forward to our next interaction.

Your hands shook as you tore open the envelope to see what pictures this person allegedly had of you. At first, they were just creepy candids of you walking down the street, nothing the paps wouldn’t have. Then they turned into photos of Bucky escorting you through crowds… and then photos of you in your apartment.

You were sleeping in your bed in one. Then standing in your kitchen making breakfast in one of Bucky’s shirts. And then a shirtless Bucky was cradling your face and kissing your forehead.

The next picture was of Bucky standing behind you in the kitchen. His pajama bottoms — the pair you got him for his birthday — were pooled at his feet. One hand was pressing you to the counter, the other was hoisting your leg up to the granite as he drove into you.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, unable to speak. As you frantically flipped through the rest of the photos, your eyes flooded with tears and your breathing grew more erratic, grabbing Bucky’s attention, then Peter’s, then Steve’s.

But their concern meant nothing to you as you processed the images before you.

You on your knees with Bucky’s dick clearly between your lips. Bucky on his knees with his face pressed between your thighs. Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s torso as he moved you on his cock. Bucky’s hand wrapped around your throat as you rode him on the couch.

All the images looked like they were taken through your windows, like someone was somehow standing outside your apartment despite being stories above the ground.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked softly. He gently touched your arm, drawing your view from the distressing imagery to his attempted comfort, though it unfortunately did nothing to calm you down. Not this time.

You looked up at him with tear-filled eyes but couldn’t bring yourself to speak. All you could do was shake your head and push the letter to him. You watched his eyes quickly scan the words before reaching for the photos. He didn’t snatch them away from you or even try to take them. He just held his hand out and let you shakily hand them over.

And then you saw the pacific blue of his eyes turn dark and stormy, his jaw clenching as he flipped through the pictures of you — you and him. His breathing grew more and more ragged the more he saw, until he threw the photos to the table with a loud, “Fuck!”

Seconds later, Sam dashed into the room as Steve sifted through the photos. Even Steve grew irritated at the sight. Peter and Sam quickly followed suit, only glimpsing a few pictures before getting the gist of the rest.

The room was silent aside from your quiet sobs. You and Bucky both stared at the disc lying between you until your eyes met. His usually pale blue irises were nearly black.

“I’m scared,” you whimpered. Despite being scared himself — and angry and frustrated and confused — he reached out to pull you into his lap and hold you. Keeping you close always made him feel better, even when it felt like the world was crashing around him.

“Close the curtains,” he demanded gruffly. Steve and Peter immediately jumped up and started pulling all your curtains shut, throwing your usually bright apartment into near darkness.

Bucky held your face between his palms, forcing you to look in his eyes.

“I know you’re scared, but we need to see what’s on that DVD.”

“I can already guess what it is,” you said through your tears.

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky agreed. “But we have to make sure.”

You simply nodded. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, helping your breathing slow at the reassuring gesture. He led you into the living room with the DVD in hand. Steve and Sam stood in the living room, Peter sat on the couch. They all looked concerned for you, but tried not to show pity. You could tell they were all upset about this too.

“You can leave the room if you don’t want to see what I’m sure we all know is on this,” Bucky said. His voice was deep and gravelly, almost like his morning voice, but… mean.

You and Bucky sat together on the sofa across from Peter, all eyes trained on the TV as the screen faded from black to a slightly fuzzy shot of your bed. Seconds later, you and Bucky came on screen. And there was audio.

You giggled as Bucky’s body pushed yours to the mattress. “What are you gonna do to me?” your voice sounded.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you,” Bucky’s voice growled. “I’m gonna cum inside this tight pussy until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Jesus,” Sam grumbled. You would’ve laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious.

Bucky only let it play until clothes started coming off. That’s when he knew they actually had a sex tape of you two, especially considering the nearly two-hour time frame on it. Sending explicit pictures of you and Bucky to your dad was one thing, but releasing a non-consensual sex tape of you two was something else entirely.

“What are we gonna do?” Peter asked quietly. Your tears had finally stopped, but the concern in his voice almost sent you over the edge again. He was such a sweet kid and he didn’t deserve to deal with the stress of this with you. But you also knew he was your best friend — practically a brother — and he wasn’t going to let you fend for yourself through this, even with Bucky by your side.

“We have to give them the money,” Sam replied. “We can find out who the door guy gives it to and arrest them or track the bills, but we have to get the money.”

“I don’t have the money,” you confessed. Everyone except Bucky seemed surprised. “I make $200,000 before taxes. Before I got this new role, I made half that. Even if we don’t deduct taxes and the expenses I do pay for, I wouldn’t have even close to two million.”

Everyone went silent again until Steve finally spoke up.

��We need to talk to the doorman.”

•

Bucky stormed out of the elevator, rushing ahead of everyone with murder in his eyes. He gripped the front of Matt’s suit and shoved him against the wall, shaking the letter in his face.

“What the fuck is this?” Bucky was seething.

“What?” Matt squeaked. His eyes were wide as saucers. He was clearly not expecting this confrontation. Bucky just shook the letter again to draw the doorman’s attention.

“Wait. You got one too?” Matt asked. Bucky’s grip loosened as he stared at the shorter man in confusion. You instinctively looked at Peter, who looked just as baffled as you. “I-I got a letter like that. In my locker. This morning.”

“Show us,” you demanded. Bucky released him but Matt’s eyes saw the posse of Avengers behind you (save for Peter, who he probably assumed was either a friend or boyfriend — secret identity and all that) and he rushed all of you to the locker room.

It was a small room since there were only a dozen doormen in your building, if that. He opened his locker and revealed a letter that was nearly identical to yours, but with no mentions of his looks and a much different threat.

“They’re threatening arson?!” you nearly shouted. Bucky and Steve read the letter before handing it to Sam and Peter to check out as well.

“They included pictures of my mom and sister,” Matt explained, clearly scared of what might happen to him and his loved ones. “They know where I live and they know who I live with. I-I would’ve taken this to th-the police but I didn’t want to risk it.”

“They have the later date listed for him,” Sam said. “You had one week to get the money or they’d tell Tony, two weeks or they release the tape. Now we have two weeks to save his family.”

Everyone in the room fell silent once again. Eyes fell on you as Peter quietly repeated his earlier question: “What are we gonna do?”

Despite all eyes on you, you turned to Bucky, who continued to study the letter. His jaw flexed as he thought and if this had been any other time, you would’ve kissed the tension away.

“We’re gonna tell Tony.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x stark!reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #Bucky smut #Bucky x reader smut #Stark!reader

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i-did · 3 years

Note

Ok ok this may be a dumb question but we'll see, what are your thoughts on bdsm + andreil? The vast vast majority of these types of fics have Andrew as the dom (and I get why) BUT theres 1 dom Neil fic and I'm like 99% sure I think I saw u comment on it so I'm assuming ur reading it and enjoying it too. And tbh, I find it much better than pretty much all the dom Andrew stuff, I hadnt realised the potential dom Neil could have until I read it. But anyway, I wanted ur thoughts? 🤲 (this is so badly phrased I apologise)

Lmfaooo being perceived is so weird. I hope I didn't say anything because I remember commenting on that fic and thinking about commenting something about my personal sex life, but I don't remember if I did lmfaooo. Omg okay, all that aside–time to now respond to this seriously.

Okay regarding that specific fic, yeah I read a lot of AFTG fics of all types, I haven't read something NSFW in a while, but when I saw the ‘Dom!Neil’ tag I decided to give it a shot. It’s interesting seeing how other authors go about their ideas and just enjoying their story. It doesn’t align with my personal ideas of everything obviously, but those are my personal HC and that fic is that authors personal HC. I like that they’re exploring something that this fandom doesn’t see explored a lot and is just a fun read, lol. Honestly I give up on most BDSM fandom fics because the depiction of Neil makes me uncomfortable ...almost always. I agree a lot more with this fics concept of how they would explore power vs control in a BDSM sexual sense, than most Dom!Andrew Sub!Neil fics– which I have long ago stopped trying to read.

Okay here are my personal ideas about Andrew and Neil, and how they would explore sex.

Many NSFW HC below the cut:

I personally don’t think canon Andrew and Neil would go into BDSM culture or ascribe to either roll strictly. I feel they wouldn’t like established dynamics like that and would get turned off by that aspect, especially since Andrew both craves control of situations but fears ‘being like them’ and a lot of Dom play is about power dynamics that he wouldn't be comfortable with. Andrew sees power in sex as different as control during sex. He needs a controlled environment, and be in control of the other by having them listen to his boundaries, but he can’t feel he’s overpowering the other person. I don’t think he could do a lot of strictly Sub things either for similar reasons, he would feel like he's giving up control of the situation in a way that could make him very uncomfortable.

Neil on the other hand is also often portrayed as a very textbook sub, but I don't think he is. I see him written as a brat a lot, but personally I don’t see him doing that since a lot of what playing with a brat is, is giving them what they want and denying them what they want and them ‘defying you’ and stuff. It's like a form of playful miscommunication I don't see Andrew or Neil ever actually doing. Obviously all healthy and proper play is outlined and discussed beforehand, but I see Andrew and Neil as needing the actions themselves to be clear and cut and dry.

Neil also gets off on Andrews pleasure, Andrew is the same about Neil, they're almost like a feedback loop of “the other enjoying themselves is inherently hot.” to me, Neil getting off on other people (Andrew) getting off is a very Dom like quality. In turn, Andrew is very turned on by pleasuring Neil, but from the point of his knees, which is almost sub like, he is turned on by sucking someone else off and seeing how into it they are. Either way, I think they both wouldn’t be into hardcore BDSM or BDSM culture but also aren’t vanilla. I don’t see either of them going to leather clubs instead of Edens and going to Folsom Fair and joining BDSM social groups and stuff.

I also don’t think either would ever use titles for the other, I think they don’t call each other by their names often on a day-to-day basis, since usually the people were talking to already know their name, and we don’t need to use it for clarification. I do think–just like in canon with emotionally charged moments–names will be used with more emphasis, especially Abram which is not used frequently.

Side note about my Jewish Neil HC: Judaism rocks because sex isn’t shamed, but rather considered a blessing and a holy act. In fact, it’s a good thing to have sex on Shabbat, G-d is actively like ‘fuck yeah you little humans, enjoy life’s pleasures and each other's company’ sex was designed to feel good and a way to connect. Shabbat is all about human connection with those important to us, and a day of rest away from work, so sex on Shabbat is actually actively a good thing. I don’t think Neil is ever religiously Jewish, but Andrew making a joke about this once would be peak to me. Which also fits Abram, a very Jewish name I HC to be not just Neil’s middle name but his Jewish name, and is used in said holy context of sex.

I think like a lot of healthy adults who are sexually active, they will explore and will be more adventurous to try new and other things, especially when dealing with issues like waning to get off but having touch aversion and issues like that. I have a lot of sex life HC about them actually, ways they navigate erectile dysfunction, mental health, and what they like in a safe environment. They trust each other, and I like imagining different ways aspects of their relationship would change or evolve in my head in all different types of ways, including sexual. I also enjoy giving them kinks and inclinations I specifically don’t have, because it’s like me exploring the concept of why someone else might like something even though I personally don’t. I’m not imagining things that make me uncomfortable necessarily, just things I'm neutral on or don’t see the appeal of, but know why they appeal to others and try to imagine what these characters might think.

I feel canon Andrew and Neil explore sex and dynamics that make them comfortable, I have HC about Andrew possibly exploring pup play and wearing a collar for Neil partially as a “joke” in the beginning, but discovering they really like it. I also HC Neil is really into athletic stuff sexually, he thinks Andrew half dressed with his padding still on and a jock strap is just peak sex appeal. I also think Neil is very sensory, and makes associations with smells and senses easily, so he develops a sweat kink, which leads into his armpit kink. Neil isn't turned on by ‘the bad smell of sweat’ but rather the fact that when Andrew is sweaty he smells like Andrew a lot, rather than after a shower he smells more like soap, and he can’t smell Andrew as much. Andrew on the other hand prefers cleaner sex. He’s not triggered by dirty sex though– he used to suck guys off at an alt dance club and is used to the smell of sweaty balls, it's just not an active turn on. Neil has ‘nothing is hotter than Andrew wearing running shoes and socks, and only running shoes and socks’ energy to me too. I think Andrew feels good about himself in leather, but isn't going to be a leather daddy and wear the leather assless chaps and the cap, he will wear the leather harness that every gay wears to pride, but he wears it just for Neil. Also, Neil loves Andrews pecs, Neil’s kinda a boob guy, but for Andrew’s pecs specifically.

I personally think Andrew and Neil typically don’t have penetrative sex. They do it sometimes–and when Andrew is ready he will bottom more as a way to prove something to himself than anything–but it’s not their preferred way or their ‘go to’. When they finally do, they don’t see it as ‘finally having sex for the first time’, since all the sex they've been having is real sex, even if its oral, hand jobs, etc. I don’t think Neil is naturally inclined to bottoming, and since even the visual of topping can make Andrew uncomfortable, they enjoy sex in any other ways, thigh fucking, docking, Andrew fucking Neil’s ass cheeks, sucking each other off, mutual masturbation, frottage, etc. and it leads to stronger orgasms when they don’t have to hope ever second will be a cliff edge and turn into a panic attack. Safer waters are simply more comfortable for them to swim in, and they deem all sex as equal in ‘value.’ that being said, Andrew likes his ass being ate, as long as its just Neil’s tongue, while Neil is neutral on his ass being ate, but loves doing it to Andrew.

I also think they would explore toys, but not in the way they're often explored in fics, which is very vibrator and dildo centric. I think they would use jacking off toys, the disposable egg kind or some more long term ones, maybe even something they could use at the same time. I don’t see them ever actually using handcuffs or restraints really either. Andrew would see Neil tied up as an equivalent statement of ‘I don't trust you not to touch me’ when he wants to actively progress past that, and shows he trusts Neil by not holding his arms back or letting him touch him. Andrew had to hold down previous partners, but Neil is different, Neil listens. This isn’t my personal opinion about restraint, but it is what I think Andrew would think.

I have no idea if this is what you meant by ‘my thoughts’ but here they are. *puts something in your open palms,* idk what emoji that would be

#ask #aftg #aftg headcanons #nsft #OSHA violation #mailob

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