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thefallennightmare · 18 days

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The Promise-Andy Biersack

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Andy Biersack x OFC

Warnings: smut, language, angst(lots of it), a smidge of fluff, mentions of abuse, alcoholism.

Summary: High school was supposed to be some of the best years of a teenager's life; except for River. Those four years were hell, the only one that got her through it was her best friend, Andy. She thought he'd be by her side after graduation but after one night of giving each other something so treasured, life took both of them in different directions.

Almost ten years later, River and Andy meet again in a way neither of them expected.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing Andy Biersack but I'm very excited! As of now, it is a one-shot but might consider continuing it if people are interested!

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @concreteangel92 @flowery-mess @cookiesupplier @poppy-in-the-woods @viofcrows @sprokat @srorgana1 @bloody-delusion-expert

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek.

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.”

The sounds of yelling pulled me out of my thoughts in time to see a group of teenagers running past me on the street, youthful smiles on their faces.

If they only knew what the future for them held.

With the setting sun grazing over the streets of Hollywood as people made their way home from school or work, I was headed to work with my camera bag hanging on my shoulder and phone in my hand. I had the Maps app up giving me directions where I needed to go. It was going to be a long night at work for this music video shoot and I was already on my third cup of coffee, the feeling of caffeine still not flowing through my system.

I spent the morning and afternoon bouncing between different shoots from clients and when I remembered I had booked this job taking pictures of a band's music video tonight, I cut the last photoshoot short by only a few minutes to make it in time.

The company that booked me for this video shoot, Industrialism Films, didn’t tell me much about who the band was. They just told me to show up at seven p.m. and start working as soon as I was set up. It was going to be an all-night event and I needed to make sure to get shots of everyone in the band.

Hence the third cup of coffee.

It also hadn't helped that my mind had been plagued with memories of high school even ten years after graduation. Usually, I was great at pushing away those awful memories but the last few nights, those images of my past life kept clawing at me, dragging me down to the depths. I spent so long trying to crawl out of it and breathe that fresh air I desperately craved those four years of hell.

The bullying.

Eating alone in the bathroom stalls.

The feeling of being so alone, I cried myself to sleep every night.

The desperation of my home being a haven away from the mocking at school, only to have it worse there.

Every single day of high school was miserable; except for one person.

Him.

My best friend and first everything; Andy.

Until he left you to deal with the beatings alone so he could succeed with his band.

Screwing my eyes shut tight to forget the sound of my dad's skin on mine, I turned the corner, and a large church and steps came into view. There were ropes blocked off around the perimeter, keeping outsiders away. As I reached a security guard, I pulled out my I.D. to show him.

“River Murray. I’m the photographer,” I said.

The guard glanced down to my I.D. then to the list in his hands and with a gruff of response, he let me walk past the ropes.

“Have a great night,” I mumbled under my breath.

Bodies were moving everywhere, and people were screaming over one another, but I was able to find the director of the shoot pretty quickly. He showed me a trailer where I could set up my things and once I was settled, I could start working. They didn’t care what pictures I shot, just as long as I got a lot of the band.

“Who’s the band?” I asked Vincent, the director while setting my camera bag on the table inside the trailer.

“Bloody veils? No that’s not right,” he scratched at the beard on his chin, trying to remember. “I don’t know. It's some metal band. I’ve only met them once before but they’re nice guys. It’s for their song Saviour II.”

I nodded. “So I have free reign around here? As long as I don’t get in the shot right?”

Vincent smiled. “You’ve worked on music video shoots before?”

“Once or twice,” I shrugged. “I worked with Bad Omens on one and some local bands another time.”

“Bad Omens?” He whistled low. “They’re one of the hottest bands right now. I’m surprised you aren't working with them.”

“I dated their current photographer for a few months. He set up the shoot with them to help build up my portfolio,” I shifted on my feet, suddenly feeling uncomfortable divulging too much about my life to this stranger.

A loud crackle and static came through Vincent’s radio. “Veil Brid-. They’re here.”

My heart stuttered in my chest for the briefest of moments but told myself to take a breath. It couldn’t be him; the radio cut off before finishing who was here, I was just in my head.

“You’re beautiful, River,” he mused while kissing every inch of my bruised skin.

Vincent clapped his hands which caused me to jump out of my thoughts and blinked wildly.

“Alright, I’ve got to meet the boys and show them their trailers to get ready. Head out whenever you’re ready. There’s a radio for you on the table in case we need to communicate with you tonight.”

“Sure,” I did my best to nod with a smile.

Once alone, I sat on the couch in the trailer and went about assembling my camera, doing a few test shots. The past kept trying to crawl its way back into the present, doing its best to render me useless, but I wouldn’t allow it.

Well, I tried to anyway.

“You’re worthless.”

“Piece of shit daughter. I should have dropped you off with your mother years ago.”

“The only thing you’re good for is being a punching bag. But you can’t even do that right.”

A swift kick to my ribs sent me flying across the room.

Choking on a sob, I dug my palms into my eyes hoping that would force out those thoughts.

“I haven’t thought of Dad in years but now he’s overtaking every part of me again,” I sighed to myself.

Not feeling quite ready to leave the trailer yet, I fixed myself in the reflection of the mirror by tying my long black hair into a tight French braid and cleaned up my makeup a bit. The scar underneath my right eye was faint but visible to this day almost eleven years later. No matter how much makeup I wore to cover it, it was still a reminder of not only the best day of my life but also the worst day.

“River, we need you on set.”

“Be right there,” I said into the radio before clicking it to the belt of my jeans, and with my camera around my neck, I bounded down the steps of the trailer.

By now the sun had set and the moon shone overhead so I stopped in my tracks for a moment to take a few shots of it before walking into the church where there was a large gathering of people. On the altar of the church were a set up of drums, guitars, an orchestra, and a microphone stand.

After snapping a picture of it, I turned on my heels when I heard Vincent call my name.

“River, I’d like you to meet the band. I figured you’d want to get some pictures of them before we start shooting.”

I looked over the picture I had just taken of the drum set, something vaguely familiar about the logo, but then glanced up at the five men standing in front of me; the one in the middle with the bright gray eyes immediately catching my gaze.

My breath caught in my throat as I nearly tripped over my feet when his jaw went slack, the familiarity slapping both of us in the face.

“River?”

The richness of his voice brought back all of those other memories I did my best to push away. I stood frozen, unable to move or say anything, while my brain tried to catch up on the man that stood in front of me; the one I hadn’t seen in ten years.

The one that broke his promise.

“Andy.”

Highschool. Senior year. One week before graduation.

I pounded on the bedroom window as the rain assaulted me with no end in sight, drenching me from head to toe. The rain mixed with the salty tears that rolled down my cheeks as I continued to beat my palm against the glass while standing on the makeshift ladder we made of three cinder blocks. I needed a way to reach his window in times like this. There was no way I could walk through his front door looking like this where his parents could see and ask questions.

“Damn it, Andy! Wake up!” I cried, still pounding on the window.

The storm was a constant onslaught of rain, lightning, and thunder, so I knew it was hard for him to hear me. But that didn’t stop me.

Finally, after a few minutes of crying and pounding on the window, Andy’s sleep-filled eyes stared at me through the curtain covering his window. I saw all the emotions run through his intense gaze.

Confusion.

Realization.

And when he gave my face one long once over, the emotion that crossed the soft features of his face, I knew there was no way I’d be able to excuse my dad’s actions this time.

Anger.

“River,” his voice instantly soothing me when he opened the window, helping me inside. “What the fuck happened?”

My body convulsed in shivers and I wrapped my arms around me to help keep some of my body heat.

“I–I-I’m fi-fine,” my teeth chattered loudly in the quiet room.

“Bullshit,” Andy spat while running a hand through his long black hair. “You’ve got a nasty cut under your eye and your lip is busted.”

Now with the rain not washing away the blood, I could taste the bitter crimson on my lips and felt it pooling in my eye. I didn’t have to look at myself to know that the cut was deep and needed stitches.

Typically, my dad made sure to hit me in places that I could easily hide. But tonight was different. I told him that once I graduated, I had plans to leave Ohio and move to North Carolina to start over; fresh.

“Not with my money,” he spat.

Literally.

When I told him I didn’t need his money and that I had other plans, he snorted while stubbing out his cigarette.

“With that little boyfriend of yours? Sweety, he’ll drop you the second you follow him to that big fancy city.”

“Fuck you!” I screamed. “You know nothing about Andy!”

My cursing set him off and that's when the first slap happened, causing my busted lip. This time, I fought back, but in the end, it didn’t matter. My dad’s strength overpowered me as he threw me across the floor, face skidding along some of the broken glass from the cup I had thrown at him before.

Hence the nasty cut underneath my eye.

Andy’s sighing brought me back and I then noticed he was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I’d seen him like this many times before since we were best friends but something about seeing him like this tonight, made my insides burn low.

I’d had a crush on him since freshman year when he stepped between me and Alexa Dread from taking my camera and breaking it; again. Ever since that day, Andy and I were inseparable. We knew everything about each other and we always confided in each other about our feelings.

Just not for each other.

My feelings for him began to grow with each passing day but I had to watch him date girls that weren’t me with a fake smile because I needed to be happy for my best friend.

He’d never feel the same way and that was something I came to terms with a while ago.

My eyes grazed over the scattered ink on his arms, the random designs always taking my breath away. He was eighteen so was able to get the tattoos without the permission of his parents.

I, however, was one month shy of turning eighteen and I’d been counting down the days. Ready to run from all of this the minute the clock struck midnight.

“Fuck, River. You’re shaking,” Andy’s hand reached for me, leading me to the adjacent bathroom off of his bedroom.

“I d-didn’t know wh-where el-se to go-go,” I did my best to speak over my body shaking.

He hushed me with a gentle squeeze of my hand. “You know you can always come here. You always have a place here, Riv.”

I swallowed thickly at his nickname for me.

“You need to shower but I want to clean that cut first,” he motioned towards the soaked clothes that were clinging to me like a second skin. “Take them off.”

I stilled at his words. While Andy had no problem walking around in his underwear around me, I, on the other hand, could not muster up that kind of courage.

“I can’t,” I shook my head.

His bright eyes narrowed through the thickness of his black hair. “Either you take those clothes off or I will. The last thing you need right now is to catch pneumonia.”

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I still didn’t make a move, which caused Andy to sigh.

“I’ll turn around so you can undress, and keep your bra and underwear on. I’ll keep my face on yours when I clean your cut,” he reassured me with a gentle smile.

“Okay,” I said finally.

Before he turned around, Andy turned on the shower so the steam could fill the bathroom and keep me warm while he cleaned the cut. Staying true to his word, he turned his back to me, and as quick as I could, I ripped off the wet clothes. The sound it made falling to the tiled floor made me cringe and I covered myself with my arms.

My bra and underwear were not cute, nothing he’d seen his past girlfriends wear, so to say I was embarrassed was an understatement. A simple pair of black cotton panties and a red bra.

“You can turn around,” I said softly.

Andy slowly turned around and kept his eyes straight ahead on my face as he motioned to the closed toilet seat. While I sat, I watched his back muscles contort as he rummaged around underneath the sink for the first aid kit.

“Won't your parents wonder why you’re taking a shower at two in the morning?” I asked.

He snorted his laughter, still rummaging underneath the sink. “They would never question why their teenage son would be taking a shower in the middle of the night.”

“Huh?” I said, utterly confused.

Andy glanced up at me from his kneeling position with his brows raised and a playful smirk. Suddenly, it clicked on what he meant.

“Oh, right,” I muttered low; the image of his hand around his cock pumping it slowly then fast replaying in my mind like a movie.

I’d never seen him do that but I’d thought about it a handful of times.

“This might sting a bit,” Andy said, kneeling in front of me now; his eyes remaining on my face.

“I’ve had worse,” I tried to joke but the stern look from him made my shoulders fall and I muttered an apology.

“You need to leave home, River,” he said while soaking a cotton pad in peroxide.

I shook my head. “And go where? I have no money and no other relatives that will take me in.”

“You know my parents will let you stay in the guest room for as long as you need.”

I snorted. “Right. I don’t think your girlfriend would like the idea of me staying down the hall from you.”

Andy’s eyes snapped away from the cotton ball to my face. “We broke up.”

I did my best to keep a straight face when my heart nearly soared out of my chest.

“When?”

“The other day. She wanted to have sex and I said no so she broke up with me,” his voice told me that he wasn't upset about it.

My brows furrowed together. “You said no to sex with Ashley Jenks? You’re not sick are you?”

I made a play of touching his forehead with the back of my hand, our laughter echoing in the small bathroom.

“No,” he grabbed my hand, not letting it go right away. “I’m not going to give my virginity to the first girl that throws themself at me. Or in this case, the fourth.”

I blinked. “You’re still a virgin?”

Andy finally let go of my hand and I frowned at the loss of warmth.

“I know it’s shocking but call me old school. I’m waiting until I find the right person.”

Our eyes met in an intense battle of who would look away first but neither of us was faltering.

“I am too,” I said quietly.

For the briefest of moments, I saw his eyes widen before he played it off by holding up the soaked cotton ball.

“I’m sorry for the sting.”

I urged him on with a nod and didn’t even flinch when the cool liquid met my skin finally as Andy cleaned the cut on my cheek. Silence fell between us as he then cleaned the dried blood on my face and when his warm breath fanned over the cut to dry it, I nearly melted into him; skin rising with goosebumps.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches,” he murmured while looking closely at the cut.

I sucked in a breath when I realized his lips were mere meters from mine and dared a glance down to his full lips. They were practically begging to be kissed and I wanted to be the one to do it.

“I’ll put a bandaid on it after my shower,” I said.

With me still sitting on the toilet and Andy kneeling in front of me, I spread my legs wide so he was able to get as close as he could to cleaning the cut. Now that he was finished, it was as if he had no idea where to place his hands so they rested on the wall behind me, his long body leaning over me.

“You’re not going back tonight, River,” his voice was deep as he stared down at me.

With shaking fingers, I brushed away the strands of hair from his face so I could see those gray eyes.

“I know.”

I tracked the movement of his Adam's apple as it bobbed low when he swallowed, his eyes finally grazing lower than my face. Down to the swell of my breasts and the slight pudge of skin around my stomach.

I wasn't the skinniest of girls, another reason why I was bullied, but Andy never commented on it.

“You should get in the shower,” his voice broke the trance between us. “Your lips are blue.”

When his finger ghosted over my mouth, I let out a soft moan desperately wanting to feel the pressure of his touch everywhere.

Suddenly like a ghost, Andy had vanished from the bathroom back into his bedroom, leaving me all alone. Since the door was now shut, I rose from the toilet and stripped out of my remaining clothes.

The hot water stung like a blade against my sore skin and I groaned out in pleasure. I didn’t want to take a long shower only because the water had already been running for a while before stepping beneath it. I washed away the memories of today with Andy’s soap and wrapped a towel around me after I stepped out of the shower.

“Shit, what am I supposed to wear?” I grumbled to myself.

Slowly opening the bathroom door, the light burst into Andy’s bedroom and lit up his form lounging on his bed reading a Batman comic.

“Andy,” I said while shuffling my feet and clutching the towel close to my chest. “I don’t have any clothes.”

Setting the comic down, he hopped off the bed and went across the room, opening the drawers of his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers and a shirt.

“We’ll swing by your house at some point tomorrow to grab you some clothes. You’ll stay here for the weekend,” he said while standing in front of me.

I took the clothes with one hand. “Thank you.”

Before in the bathroom, Andy made sure not to look at the bruises covering my skin but now, he made sure to take in every single one that he could see.

The fingers imprinted around my neck.

The bruise on my shoulder, left arm, and legs.

These were the ones that he could see. The ones underneath the towel around me were worse.

His jaw ticked with the anger he so desperately tried to keep within, knowing that one outburst from him would cause me to fall into myself.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I whispered.

Andy’s eyes were dark but his voice was gentle. “Let me see all of it.”

I vigorously shook my head. “I’m fine, Andy. I just want to get dressed and go to sleep.”

All at once, I felt my body being pressed up against the wall and the towel falling to the floor at my feet. Andy’s gaze ignited as he pressed his hips against mine causing a shockwave throughout my body. His clothed cock brushed along my bare clit and I let out a moan while my eyes fluttered shut.

“Riv.”

My eyes snapped open when I felt his hand cup my cheek. Tears burned at the corners and he gently wiped them away with the pad of his thumb.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t look. They’re ugly. I’m ugly.”

The burning anger in his iris softened at my cries but still kept me locked in place against the wall with his hips.

“You’re beautiful, angel,” he admitted with a steady voice.

Angel.

It was Andy’s nickname for me ever since sophomore year when I dressed up as a fallen angel for Halloween. We were too old to go trick or treating but not cool enough for parties so we both decided to get dressed up and spend the night in his basement getting drunk.

It was also the night I had my first kiss. We were sitting on the couch in his basement, a few drinks in, and I had my head resting on Andy’s shoulder trying so hard to stay awake for the horror movie he put on. When I looked up at him, I was shocked to see that he was already staring at me and the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. It was a short kiss, over before I could enjoy it.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologized. “I drank too much.”

We never talked about that kiss after that night, both of us burying it away; much to my dismay.

“I’m not,” I cast my eyes away from him.

His warm breath fanned across the crook of my neck as he peppered kisses on the bruises there.

“Let me show you.”

Yet again our eyes locked with intensity, so fierce it set the space around us on fire. Andy’s hand moved down my cheek, over my neck, and the space between my breasts. I bit back a moan when his finger and thumb rolled one of my perked nipples between them.

“Will you let me show you?” He asked, nuzzling his face in my neck.

I licked my lips. “What about waiting for the right person?”

“She’s already in front of me,” Andy admitted before crashing his lips to mine.

My body had come alive with his touch and everything I wanted since freshman year was coming to fruition. Andy wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Our lips synced together perfectly, never missing a beat, as he lifted me and carried me to his bed.

That night, we both gave each other something we held so dear to ourselves. Afterward, as we lay together with our naked bodies tangled underneath his sheets, Andy pressed a kiss to my forehead when I cried in his chest, scared to go back home once Monday morning came.

“I hate being alone there. I’m afraid he’ll go too far and kill me.”

“You don’t ever have to be alone, River,” his soothing voice cooed in my ear as he cupped my cheek.

I looked up at him through the tears and choked on a sob. “Promise you’ll stay with me?”

He smiled that smile I fell in love with years ago. “I promise.”

Andy lied.

Four days later, he packed up his entire life and moved to Hollywood without a simple goodbye.

PRESENT DAY.

“River?”

I blinked while shaking my head, trying to gather my bearings again. The past had sucked me in whole, forcing me to relive that night over again. I couldn't believe Any was standing in front of me again after all these years, the moonlight breaking through the stained glass windows of the church bathed him in a glow made for kings. Even though he looked different than the last time I’d seen him, with more tattoos and shorter hair; tonight he had a small white patch in his hair. I could vaguely make out the old lip-piercing hole and I remembered how the cool metal tasted against my tongue when we kissed.

He, along with the guys around him, were dressed in their outfits for the video, so I was able to see the tattoos that littered his neck, chest, and stomach. However, those eyes were still the same.

Those haunting gray eyes stared into the soul I previously just captured again as he waited for me to say something.

Do I play it off like I don't remember him?

Right, like you could forget the guy that took your virginity.

Do I ignore him and go about work like a professional?

How is ignoring the person you’re supposed to be working with professional?

I was starting to grow tired of the little voice inside my head.

Vincent glanced between Andy and me, pointing a finger. “Do you two know each other?”

“We went to high school together,” Andy answered before I could.

“No shit,” Vincent chuckled. “What a small world.”

“Right,” I snorted venomously.

Andy’s eyes sliced into me but I ignored him by giving him my back and looking over at Vincent.

“I’ll get shots of them later. Radio me when you’re ready.”

When he nodded, I took that as my cue to leave although I made it only a few steps before my name was called from behind.

“You’re not even going to say hello, Riv.”

I spun so fast on my heels, the end of my braid snapped to the other side of my face and I pointed a finger at Andy.

“I’m not doing this with you. Not here and especially not right now. Both of us have a job to do. Let’s keep it that way.”

One of the guys next to Andy watched us carefully and I could practically see the light click on above his head.

“Wait, River as in River from high school,” the guy said.

“Yeah, Jinxx,” Andy answered before taking a step towards me.

I took a large step away from him. “I already said I’m here to do my job, that’s it.”

Before he could try and sweet talk his way into my life, just like that night, I turned back around and marched out of the church, calling back that I was going to take some shots of it.

Once outside, I let the cold night air brush the hot tears away from my face as my heart nearly burst out from my chest, sobs echoing throughout the vastness of the sky.

No. This cannot be happening.

For the last nine years, I spent my life crying over that man, wondering what I did wrong that night to make him leave me behind. He promised to stay with me but still left.

Was I not good enough? Worthy of being by his side?

Nine years I spent stuck in Ohio wondering why with the bitter taste of Hennessy, drinking away my sorrows and regrets. It wasn’t until a year ago when I finally questioned myself in the reflection of the bottle that I took whatever money I had left from selling my father's house after he died to move across the county to California.

The last year I spent building myself up to the women I was now and creating my career empire with my photography. I refused to let the past crumble everything I worked so hard for; no matter how good he looked now or how bad I wanted to taste his lips again.

“Get a hold of yourself,” I seethed. “He left you.”

The sound of music from inside blasted through the walls of the church letting me know that they started shooting and choosing not to dwell on Andy showing back up into my life, I took a few shots of the church outside. Then I reluctantly walked back inside knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever and decided to get some pictures of the guys.

Andy’s eyes quickly found me but I did my best to ignore him by hiding behind my camera. His voice erupted through the speakers and it brought back every single time during music class in high school when he would sing in front of the class or solo for me in his bedroom.

My bottom lip trembled as I blew out a shaky breath while walking over to where Vincent sat, just as he yelled cut.

“Did you get your shots?” He wondered.

Clicking back through all of the pictures, I pursed my lips at the realization that while I got great shots of the other band members, I hadn’t gotten any shots of Andy mostly because I avoided him at all costs.

“I need some of Andy,” I said with a long breath.

“No problem. I think we got everything we need with this scene. Next up is the scene of him sitting in the pew alone so you can get them now,” Vincent patted my shoulder as he stood from the chair.

“Lovely,” I grumbled while walking back towards the altar of the church directly in Andy’s path.

He was talking with one of his band members but when he caught sight of me, he met me halfway.

“Riv,” he began.

“Don’t,” I seethed, walking past him. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me.”

“Can I explain please?” Andy asked while reaching for my elbow.

I yanked it out of his grasp, ready to move to the opposite side of the church when his voice halted me.

“Angel.��

Whirling around so fast, I nearly dropped my camera to the ground when I pushed him in his chest.

“Don’t you fucking ever call me that again!” I nearly screamed. “You don’t have the right to call me that.”

Anytime I heard that name, all I would think about was our first kiss and the night we slept together.

His eyes softened, almost begging me to listen. “Please, angel. I have to explain-.”

“NO!” My voice echoed inside the church. “There’s nothing to explain, Andy. Anything that comes out of your mouth is a lie.”

“Do you guys need a moment?” Vincent’s voice carried over to us.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Andy and I both said at the same time.

“You know what, I think a break is a good idea. Let’s take thirty and come back,” Vincent directed to everyone with a wave of a finger.

Having every intention of spending that thirty minutes alone in my trailer, I brushed past Andy and nearly tripped over my feet as I ran down the concrete steps, the vision of my solace getting closer and closer. Just before I could slam the door shut behind me, it closed on a body with an audible ouch.

“Leave me alone, Andy!” I yelled.

He stood tall in the small confines of the trailer, his broad chest heaving with each deep breath from chasing after me. His bare chest underneath his opened jacket and for a second, I allowed myself to study those visible tattoos. The eagle on his sternum, the sword in the crease of his stomach, the tiger neck to it. I couldn’t make out the tattoo across his neck or chest but I could make out the 26 in a hear on his neck.

“Not until you let me explain,” he said.

I grabbed the end of my braid, ripping it out so my dark hair could fall around my shoulders.

“I swear to fucking God himself, if you say explain one more time I’m going to-.”

“Do what, angel?” He raised a brow while resting his hands on his hips.

I pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Andy didn’t move.

“You're unbelievable,” I growled while making a beeline for the door instead, only to have him block my path.

“I had to leave.”

I blinked up at him, mouth agape. “What?”

We were so close now, his familiar scent encasing me with its vise grip, and my mind kept screaming at me to create space.

He ran a hand over his short hair and took a deep breath. “I had to leave. That Monday morning after you left, I got a call from an agent in Los Angeles offering me a small gig in a commercial. It's what I needed to get my foot in the door, to get Black Veil Brides started, so I took it. But I had to be out there the day after they called me.”

“So you left me behind, without a single fucking goodbye,” I sneered, pushing past him to the other side of the trailer.

“I didn’t have a choice!” Andy’s voice was raised now, it echoing off the walls.

“You could have told me! You know I would have followed you!” I shot back.

He began pacing the narrow space while having his hands on his hips. “I couldn’t, River. Not without knowing that everything would have paid off in the end. I couldn’t have you with me while I suffered.”

I chuckled dryly. “Oh but suffering back home alone was fine with you?”

“I wanted to reach out and check on how you were doing,” his shoulders slumped.

“My number has been the same,” I held out my hands. “I lived in the same fucking house for nine years after you left. You could have come to see me.”

When he said nothing, his lips unmoving, I grew angrier and pushed his chest, ten years of holding everything in finally exploding.

“You lied!”

Push.

“You left me with him to beat on me for another three fucking years until he died!”

Push.

“You made me a promise and broke it!”

I cried with one final push, causing Andy to fall back onto the couch, stormy eyes staring up at me. Tears were streaming down my face and my eyes burned with anger for the man in front of me.

“You told me you would never leave me,” I snarled through gritted teeth. “You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did.”

When he reached for my hand, I smacked it away.

“Please, angel,” he begged. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I wasn’t in the best place. I couldn’t have you be with me, seeing all that shit. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Just tell me all you wanted from me was sex so I can finally put the nail in the coffin, Andy,” I said with a shaky breath.

His face fell. “That’s not even remotely true, River.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. After tonight, you’ll go back to your band and life as a rockstar.”

With my back turned, I gathered my camera and was ready to get back to work when an arm wrapped around me from behind.

“Come with me, angel,” Andy’s soft voice brushed along the shell of my ear.

When I felt myself falling into his embrace, almost ready to give in, I pushed away from him. He made me so mad I could throw something at him. My camera or the chair.

Myself.

“You’re insane,” I shook my head.

He linked our hands together so I could face him, the pleading bright in his eyes. “Give me a chance to make up for the last ten years.”

I stared blankly at him, trying to determine if this was a cruel trick.

“You don’t deserve my time, Andy. What we used to have is gone, you can’t fix it or try to bring it back.”

“You’re not even going to let me try?” He asked.

“Why should I? So that you can break my heart again? You don’t realize how much of myself I gave to you; parts I can never take back. You were my first kiss!” I raised my voice.

He blinked. “I didn’t know that.”

I scoffed while shaking my head again. “Of course you didn’t, Andy. Because you never brought it up again. You blamed it on the alcohol that night. What’s your excuse for the night we lost our virginity to each other?”

Before Andy could speak, I waved him off and headed towards the door of the trailer.

“It’s not even worth it anymore,” I muttered with my hand on the handle.

Suddenly in a whirlwind, I felt myself being hoisted up and pressed against the bathroom door. Those dark gray eyes were reading my face, assessing every movement of my gaze as it burned into him. Andy held my hands pinned to my sides and kept me locked into place with his hips. The imprint of his cock was felt against the material of my leggings and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the moan quiet.

It’d been so long since I felt his touch and I was ready to throw out everything, all of my morals, just to have him again.

“River,” his hand cupped my cheek, the coolness of his rings almost a shock to my warm skin.

I said nothing, simply glaring up at him with a clenched jaw.

“Riv. Come with me.”

AnDy breathed over my lips and I nearly lost it. But I still kept strong, not wanting to be the first one to falter. I worked so hard to build myself back up after he left and there was no way I could allow myself to fall.

Not again.

His thumb lifted my chin, keeping it locked in his grip, and his eyes dropped to my lips; a silent question.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

Something dark flashed in Andy’s eyes as a sinister smirk played on his lips. One that I recognized all too well even though it was never directed at me.

“I don’t ever remember you being such a brat,” he tsked.

I swallowed thickly, unsure how the tension between us went from anger to sexual, but at that moment with him eyeing me hungrily, I didn’t want to question it.

“How could you remember? You’ve been gone for ten years,” I shot back.

Andy pressed his hips harder against me and this time I wasn’t able to hold back the moan. It slipped through my lips with sheer pleasure and I let my head fall against the door behind me.

“I wasn’t drunk the night we slept together, River,” Andy’s hand wrapped around my neck, thumb now on my pulse point. “Or that entire weekend.”

My cheeks flushed when I remembered we had sex multiple times that weekend. We never left his bedroom and thankfully, his parents left the next morning for a friend's wedding so they had no idea I was there.

“All I ever wanted was you,” his voice was low.

I raised my chin at him. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action I watched intently, and then his voice dropped even lower. Those usually bright eyes were dark and it made the air thick, heated, and full of spice. It made it harder to breathe as his grip tightened around my throat slightly.

“Let me show you.”

Those four words sent both of us back to his bedroom during high school and just like that night, I succumbed to the darkness that was Andy Biersack; consequences be damned.

“Are you still waiting for the right person?” My question was a breath over his lips.

A low noise rumbled in Andy’s chest as his hand gripped behind my neck, yanking my mouth to his.

“She’s right in front of me.”

Every single doubt and fight I had within me vanished the second our lips touched, those familiar fireworks exploding. My hands were all over Andy; his neck, chest, ribs, and back as they sneaked underneath his jacket. While one of his hands continued to grip the back of my neck, the other held tight on my hip so I couldn’t leave.

As if I wanted to.

Our tongues molded together and he swallowed my moan when his teeth bit down on my bottom lip. For a moment, reality struck with clarity and I pushed Andy off of me, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

“You need to leave,” I warned, breathless.

His lips were kiss swollen and his jacket was falling off of his shoulders as those stormy eyes never left my lips.

“Do you want that? Because if you do, I’ll leave right now.”

When I remained silent, Andy smirked while grasping the back of my head to crash his lips on mine again, this time with more hunger. It was as if he was a man starved, desperate for his last meal.

“You need to go,” I groaned when his lips began trailing down my chin and neck.

“Go where?” He asked. “Here?”

A gentle bite to the shell of my ear.

“Or here?”

A kiss on the sensitive part of my skin between my neck and shoulder which caused me to shiver in his embrace.

“What about here, angel? Do you want me here?”

The head of his cock brushed along my clit from underneath our clothes and I nearly fell at his feet until Andy’s strong arms lifted me to carry me over to the small twin-size bed on the other end of the trailer.

“It’s like we're back in my childhood bedroom with this small ass bed,” he grumbled.

I fell onto the cheap mattress with a slight giggle but it was hushed with Andy consuming me once more. My entire soul went up in a fiery blaze when he began rutting his hips into me and it was as if we were a couple of teenagers again making out and thinking that was the best part of it. We couldn’t keep our hands off of each other as I helped him out of his jacket and he all but ripped my sweater off, leaving me in an olive green bralette.

His eyes darkened before he left teeth marks between the swell of my breasts, lapping up his saliva and dried sweat from the day and I raked my nails through the buzzed hair.

“I miss your long hair,” I gasped, feeling his tongue slip between the material of my bra and catching my nipple.

“I’ve missed the way you tasted, River,” Andy mused while kissing his way back up to my lips.

This time the kiss was slow, as if we had the rest of our lives together and there was no need to rush anything. It was like he was trying to imprint me into him, never wanting to forget anything again.

I reached for the button on his pants, pulling down the zipper to slip my hand inside, palming his hard cock.

Holy. Shit.

It was a lot thicker than ten years ago.

“Shit, Riv,” he cursed when I squeezed him. “Just like that.”

I did it a few more times while his forehead fell to my chest, panting his warm breath over my skin. I lifted his face with my other hand to kiss him again, the savageness poured out of him.

The room smelled of our desperation as I shimmied out of my leggings while he stepped out of his pants, after unhooking my bra and tossing it over his shoulder. As Andy stood at the end of the bed, I let my eyes rake over every defined muscle of his body; tongue begging for a simple taste of the ink on his skin and the head of his cock that was almost slipping through his briefs; the black briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide his arousal.

Rising to my knees on the bed, I ran my palm over his cock again, his entire body shivering underneath my touch.

"Fuck, angel,” Andy groaned before his teeth grasped at my bottom lip, yanking it away from me.

I hissed in pleasure, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

"Did you-." I licked my bottom lip and then tilted my head to the side. "Did you just bite me?"

Andy pushed me back down on the bed so he could take in the sight of me bare for him; those stormy eyes were now clear with only one thing.

Heat.

“I can’t believe I went ten years without this,” he muttered to himself while stepping out of his briefs, his cock finally springing free.

I licked my lips at the sight of it, salivating for a taste of the precum that he smeared over the head. But instead, I felt like being a brat with Andy, not allowing him to think I wasn’t still upset with him.

“It’s your own fucking fault,” I shot back with a sly smirk, resting on my elbows.

My squeals echoed in the trailer when Andy flipped my tiny frame over on the mattress so my ass was exposed to his palm, a hard strike falling onto it. I writhed against the bed when another harsh strike came down on my ass, my mewls of pleasure being drowned out by the pillow.

“You’re such an ass,” I seethed when the spankings stopped.

Andy palmed my reddened cheek while looming over my back, his breath warm on my neck.

“Do you still like it rough, River?” His question was heavy on his tongue.

That weekend we spent together, I divulged what kind of kinks I might have been into due to my own research. Andy let me try things with him while I did the same and needless to say, all these years later he still knew exactly what my body needed to come alive for him.

Instead of answering, I raised my hips from the bed with his name falling from my lips in a whine full of desperation. Andy had barely touched me but the wetness between my legs was warm and sticky.

I needed this release more than oxygen.

"What do you want from me?" His fingers dragged up my slick folds from his position behind me before slipping one inside, the feeling of his rings making me stiffen.

My head was turned to the side so I could gaze up at him over my shoulder. However, he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were trained hard on his finger pumping in and out of my pussy, the sounds of my arousal overpowering the sounds of my panting. Seeing the desperation on his face as he tried to hold himself back made me push my ass closer to Andy.

“Use your words, Riv,” he ordered while flicking his eyes to me for a moment.

I shook my head, words foreign when he slipped another finger inside of me, spreading them wide like a V.

“Did you forget how to speak?”

Andy clicked his tongue against his teeth, ready to pull his fingers out when my begging halted him.

"You. I just want you."

The bed shifted behind me when I noticed Andy disappear only to feel the wetness of his tongue press against my pussy to lick my arousal. The sharpness of his teeth scraped along my clit as he buried his face deeper into the sweet spot between my legs.

“You still taste so good, River,” he mused, pressing gentle kisses on the inside of my thigh.

“Don’t stop,” I all but whined, wanting to feel his tongue again.

Andy ate me out from behind with both hands on my hips, continuing to keep me in place as my body writhed on the bed from the onslaught of his mouth. When his lips wrapped around my clit to suck hard on the sensitive bud, I screamed out his name.

“Andy,” I drowned it out with a moan. “It’s so good. I’m so close.”

With the indication my orgasm was on the brink of collapse, he slipped a finger inside of me again. While his mouth was a rough attack on my clit, his finger was a gentle caress of my inner walls with slow strokes. Sheer ecstasy was slowly building at the base of my spine, warming up all of my senses until I felt like I could combust at any moment. Andy flicked his tongue over my clit and I buried my face into the pillow, the musky scent of my wellness tickling my nose as my body shook out my orgasm. My cries of release sounded like music to Andy’s ears as he hummed in praise, drinking up my arousal as it gushed over his tongue and fingers.

It had been so long since I had an orgasm that wasn’t brought on by my hand or a toy. I lay limp on the bed, breathless, as the after-shocks slowly began to fade along with the hazy bright lights, my soul returning from wherever it retreated to. I barely felt the kisses upon my thigh and then lower back as Andy dragged a finger down my spine.

“Still on birth control?” He asked, lust gone from his voice for a second.

I nodded while glancing over my shoulder and seeing my arousal coating his lips. The sight was so intoxicating that I almost uttered those three words that plagued my existence since I first met him.

“River,” he tapped my back, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Implant,” I replied.

My head leaned back in pure bliss when Andy dug his nails into my hips as he pressed himself past my wetness, the thickness of his cock filling me. It twitched inside of me, earning a disgustingly desperate groan from me.

It felt nothing like it did ten years ago. It felt better.

Andy left no space between us as he held us in place on the small mattress and I tried to move my hips in his grip. It was so rough, I knew I would have bruises later but frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was how good it felt to have him inside of me again.

“So tight, angel. I can’t-.”

His eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted to an 'O' shape when I rocked my hips against him with my swollen clit rubbing against the cool blanket and I shivered at the sensation. Everything from our fight to our kiss sent me in a spiral of pure ecstasy and I felt the coil in my stomach pulling tight again. My previous orgasm was still lingering and it didn’t take long before I felt that familiar tingly feeling in my spine.

“Andy, I’m going to-.”

Still inside of me, he managed to flip me over so now I was staring up at those dark eyes; pupils blown wide with lust. Now, Andy didn’t hold back as he hooked my leg up and around his shoulder so he could thrust in a deeper angle.

“Oh god,” I closed my eyes, the new sensation causing the coil to hurt.

“Eyes on me, River!” He snapped with a low growl and I immediately obeyed. "You're so fucking beautiful, angel. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry it’s been ten years.”

I didn’t want to hear his apology. I only wanted to have that coil spring free with my second orgasm. I attacked his lips with such force Andy had to hold himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other slipping between the place where our bodies met to play with my clit; exactly how I liked. Our tongues explored each other's mouths in a kiss so vicious it made my head spin. Andy’s pace was erratic and merciless but it didn’t stop me from begging.

"More," I mumbled into his lips.

That's all he needed before he maneuvered us so he sat in the middle of the bed with me in his lap and he held me closer to his chest as his hips snapped up into me in violent strokes, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot. I yelled out my pleasure, exposing my neck to Andy who immediately attacked it with his teeth leaving bite marks all along the skin sticky with sweat.

My body hummed in a prayer-like awaking, the flames and heat burning high in my belly as my organs crested higher; so fucking high I was afraid I would combust into nothing but matter in the air. His name fell from my lips in devotion, a woman praying to her God, and my toes curled as the orgasm ripped through me with so much force I screamed out in pure nirvana.

“I love you, River,” Andy professed with a strangled breath as he spilled himself inside of me, cock throbbing with his release.

“What did you say?” I questioned, almost unsure if I had heard him correctly.

He cupped my cheek, eyes softening. “I love you.”

My bottom lip trembled at those three words; the words I wanted to hear for years.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” Andy brushed away my hair from my face. “But it’s true. I’m at a better place where now admitting it out loud doesn't scare me.”

We stayed like that, bodies tangled together in the silence for a few long moments until he laid us on the bed. I very quickly detached myself from him so I could put some space between us.

Although he admitted how he felt, I wasn't ready to yet. I knew that I loved him ever since high school, but it was my turn to be afraid of what would happen if I admitted it out loud.

Instead, I remained silent while lying on my stomach on the bed, resting my chin on my hand to gaze down at his tattoos again. One of them immediately caught my attention and I smiled at it, a fond memory cresting to the surface.

“I remember being with you when you got this,” I whispered while trailing a finger over the black and yellow Batman logo on his arm.

“I still have the comics you got me for my birthday,” he said while propping his arm behind his head.

My heart skipped at that because it meant that he was thinking of me during our time away.

“But you couldn’t come to see me,” I muttered under my breath as I turned from him.

Andy reached for me to pull my back to his chest and lock me into place with a leg over my hips. His left hand grazed up and down my arm, sending shivers all over my skin, and I let out a soft breath.

“Will you stay with me, River?”

I sat on his question for a few long beats, letting it sink in if it was something I truly wanted. My life in Hollywood wasn’t set in place, I’d always been on the move. But the thought of uprooting everything to be with Andy scared the shit out of me. How could I trust that he won’t leave me again?

Then why did you sleep with him? You plan on leaving after this, so you’re no better than him.

“Why now?” I sat up to gaze down at him, his arm falling away from me. “How come now you want to make things work between us?”

He hesitated with inner turmoil eating away inside as he slowly sat up and ran a hand over his short hair.

“I was married for six years. The divorce was finalized last year.”

My heart sank into the depths of my stomach; no farther. It fell straight to Tartarus.

“We were together for a total of eight years but the longer our relationship went on I began to realize it wasn’t what I wanted. Who I wanted,” Andy explained.

There was absolutely no reason for me to be upset with him because while he was married, I had been casually dating. None of them were ever serious enough to last more than a few months. But it still caused an ache in my heart.

“Then why did you stay with her for as long as you did?” I asked.

Andy has a soft smile. “I loved her, in a different way than I love you. But sometimes that kind of love isn’t enough. Not when someone else held my heart first.”

Tears burned in my eyes and I blew out a shaky breath. “If that were true, Andy, then you would have come to me first. You wouldn’t have gotten married.”

Removing myself from his grasp, I began slipping on my discarded pieces of clothing while he continued to sit in bed, naked.

“I’m not saying I’m perfect, River. But I’ve grown a lot in the last few years. The Andy you used to know wouldn’t have been good for you.”

“And now?” I asked with my hands on my hips.

The smile that played on his lips grew wider. “Now, I would love to have you come on the road with me. We leave in a few days for our North America leg then jump overseas for a few weeks. Plenty of time to make up for old times and prove I’ve changed.”

I laughed. “You want me to stop what I’m doing here to come follow you? Give up potential jobs? Just to be your roadie?”

Andy’s jaw twitched but with a deep breath, he gathered himself from the bed and stepped back into his briefs and pants.

“You can be our photographer. I’ll talk it over with our management team, that way you can be getting paid.”

I pursed my lips in consideration because his offer was a pretty good one. But was it worth spending all that time together?

You love and miss him.

I sighed at the voice in my head, knowing it was true. Seeing him again brought up all the old feelings I spent years burying, trying to forget, and it was clear that Andy still felt the same.

“You remember all the plans we made? When we were hoping for better days? You wanted to become a photographer and I wanted to sing in a band. We have that now. What’s stopping you from saying yes?” He took a small step towards me.

“The promise you betrayed,” I said flatly.

Andy’s shoulders fell. “You don’t have to forgive me for leaving you, Riv. But I swear to you that if you come with me, I will spend every day from here on out proving to you that you’re all I want.”

When I didn’t say anything, he wrapped his arms around me and oh so gently, laid a kiss on my lips.

“I love you, River Murray,” he professed. “We can start over; fresh. But only if this is something you want. If not, then we can both leave with some closure and go our separate ways.”

I couldn’t explain the way my heart physically ached with the thought of leaving tonight and forgetting about Andy. Even with all the anger and hurt, I couldn't imagine acting like tonight didn’t happen. Maybe there was a small possibility that we could work through our issues, gain that trust back, and finally find what we were desperate to have.

But the betrayal weighed heavy in my soul along with the fear of Andy doing it again, only this time while I was with him and leaving me stranded.

“River, if you’re with Andy, can you have him come to set? We’re ready to start again.”

I jumped at the sudden loud crackle of the radio, Vincent’s voice breaking through the clouds of confusion.

With a sigh, Andy slipped back into his shoes and jacket.

“Let’s get back to work, yeah? We can talk more about this on the next break,” he said.

I swallowed the waver in my voice as it broke. “I’m actually going to sit here for a bit since I’m not needed right now.”

Andy’s thumb brushed along the soft skin of my cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, angel.”

He left me with a kiss on the cheek and for the first time since reuniting with Andy, I fell to the ground with sobs wracking my body. Everything I worked hard to overcome was shattered by those three words and his offer. It terrified me to completely allow him in again but I also didn’t want to let him go.

The decision was made in an instant as I rose from the floor, hastily wiping away the tears, and gathered my things together. I knew what I chose would have repercussions, some I may never recover from, but as the door of the trailer slammed behind me, it would be alright. Because my heart said it would be.

#tina talks #andy biersack #andy black #black veil brides #bvb #andy black fanfiction #andy biersack fanfiction

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mindstriker · 4 months

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top five things i am currently insane about in borderlands as usual:

a) timothy lawrence and the way that he's so commonly misinterpreted. i want to see an in-depth exploration of all the less "funny cute anxious bean" or whatever aspects of his personality. i want to see the remnants of jack still lingering in his personality and the way this makes other people uncomfortable sometimes. i want to see the fact that he's a resilient mf who survived being a vault hunter. i want a genuine exploration of the relationship (platonic or romantic) that he could have with moxxi, where they both simultaneously explore the people that they are underneath the literal mask/corporate image of themselves that they present. i want to see the crimson raiders send him to atlas for a new hand because rhys fucking OWES them after they saved his ass, and i want to see him have a conversation with zer0, one of the people who killed jack. i also want to see him accidentally scare the shit out of rhys on multiple occasions. I WANT TO SEE IT ACKNOWLEDGED THAT HE'S TERRIBLE AT ACTING LIKE JACK ON PURPOSE, but when he's not intentionally doing it? jesus, it catches you off guard. sometimes the things he says as himself sound like something that would naturally come out of jack's mouth.

b) katagawa jr. can i ever decide entirely whether or not i wanted him to be reworked into a more competent, long-standing antagonist that would EVENTUALLY be killed by rhys personally in a grand display of him killing a foil of himself/ a representation of the worst person that he could have become in order to protect the new future he built for himself and all the people working for him- OR an eventually slowly redeemed character who survived the vault hunter's attack only to be disgraced by Maliwan and forced to gain a new perspective on the world much the same way Rhys was when he was initially ousted to being a janitor at Hyperion before going to Pandora? no. i cannot decide which of these paths i like better, but i really want either of them to have happened.

c) pure unadulterated rage about what they did to vaughn's character post tftbl. that's it. no elaboration needed.

d) the lack of content about maya meeting and knowing about other sirens and getting to connect with them over their experiences. i want to see more about her personal horror encountering angel in bl2- realizing that this can be a siren's fate sometimes if they're unlucky or defeated, weaponized and used for their powers as a tool. i want to see her meet lilith, and bond with her over the weight on their shoulders- being a vault hunter and a siren all at once and being looked up to as a legend, a myth, and a saviour all at once. also why the fuck did they kill her off in bl3 it's so fucking awful she could've been an awesome returning character and instead of just having her return to athenas they could have done a whole arc about her begrudgingly returning to her place of origin despite complicated feelings about it because they're in danger.

e) TANNNNNNNNNNNISSSSS. i love patricia tannis. number one tannis fan over here. i just want to see more of her interacting with everyone in general, actually. sirens and eridian history are her favourite, let me see her talking lilith and maya into silly experiments for her own personal gain. making friends, slowly, as she connects with the crimson raiders more closely than she thought she would, with other scientific minds. like hammerlock! they have different realms of study, but i like to think they'd get along. have her wander begrudgingly into moxxi's bar (unpleasantly loud and busy, but needs must) and ask her for a favour because she needs someone persuasive to convince the vault hunters to spare a bit of eridium for a machine she's got in the works. more her please

#borderlands #rambling #borderlands 3 #timothy lawrence #maya the siren #borderlands 2 #patricia tannis #katagawa jr #vaughn the money man #rhys tftbl #bunch of other mfs i wont list them all #tales from the borderlands #etc.

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cherrydreamer · 2 years

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Steve's future hasn't quite panned out exactly as he dreamt it. It's close- he's got three kids, so he's halfway there- but he's also freshly divorced and still raw from the pain of it. Because that's one more person he gave his heart to, only for them to rip it out. One more life that he jumped into with both feet, only to be left stumbling as the person he adored found someone better.

One more dream dissolving in front of him.

So he clings to what he can. He splashes his savings on an RV and he loads up his nuggets and they chug their way across the states; and the whole way there, Steve tells them about all his plans, about Yellowstone and the Rockies and the Grand Canyon and learning to surf and seeing all the sights and he picks up a ton of shiny brochures he finds on a stand at the gas station and they go through them all, finding the best ones and- "yeah, OK, Joy, honey, yeah, course we can go see, what is it? The World's Largest Bull? Sounds good sweetheart! Maybe we can go see a whole gosh darn World's Biggest Farm, how's that sound, Edd? You still got the map there? Any chance there's a World's Biggest Sheep on there, buddy?"

So they do it. All of it. All the parks and the landmarks and the tacky tourist things and the weird little museums in tiny little towns. And there's so much chatter and laughter and fun and it's so close to what Steve had been picturing, all those years ago but there's just a little stab of longing for that one missing piece. Someone else, someone grown up, to share it all with.

But he's happy. Mostly, he's happy.

And then, finally, after all the travelling and the sightseeing, they wind up at that exact little Cali beach town that Steve's been thinking about for so long.

He's tired and he's sunburnt and he's walking along the sand with one kid riding high on his shoulders, drips of his melting ice cream landing in the greying waves of Steve's hair; another one dawdling behind, making a hammock from her pirate shirt and filling it with cool looking rocks while the third one skips off ahead, pigtails flying in the wind as she jumps in and out of the rushing waves.

And that's when they see him. The guy. Blond and buff with a surfboard under his arm as he comes running towards the sea, almost knocking over Steve's little wave-jumper. But he stops, just in time, and he's close enough that they can see the scars on his chest, and Steve's kids are gawping and one of them asks "Did you get bit by a shark?" with a voice full of awe, but before Steve can say anything or stammer out an apology, the guy just grins and laughs and says, "Yeah, Lil' Mermaid, Jaws took a nibble and spat me right back out. Little too sweet for his taste."

And the kids are all staring, eyes and mouths wide in amazement, and Steve is too, cause he'd been too distracted before to look properly but...now? Now he's actually looking? This guy is the absolute spitting image of Billy. But he can't be, can he? Cause Billy...Billy died. Steve saw it happen. So...just a lookalike, surely. Something in the Cali water that means all guys turn out hot and muscly with panty-dropping smiles.

Just a coincidence. Wishful thinking.

But then Steve's littlest one pipes up, "Do you know how to surf?"

And the guy smiles again, even bigger, and shakes his head as he taps a finger against his board, "No, munchkin, I'm just carrying this around cause it's too big to fit in my pocket."

But the sarcasm is lost on her. She just ploughs on with, "Well my Daddy wants to learn how. Can you teach him? He'll try hard and be really really good, I promise."

And that's when the guy really smiles, big and toothy and oh-so familiar, and he looks Steve up and down and licks his lips and says, "Oh really? Is that so, Harrington?"

#harringrove #season 4 spoilers #st spoilers #just a bit of steve and his nuggets #yes i posted this on discord but it would not leave me alone #i'm coping with my feelings by throwing myself into the daddy steve fantasy

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railingsofsorrow · 1 year

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Winds of Change

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer is really not good at confrontation and he realizes his profiling skills are kind of lacking at the moment. or in which reader goes through a lot and makes a choice. [sequel to riptide]

pairing: spencer reid x cyberintelligenceexpert!fem!reader

w.c: 4.4K

warnings/content: description of hospitals; mentions of unfaithfulness & divorce; animosity btw coworkers; not as angsty as the other chapters; tw!pregnancy; details of a case that involves tw!abduction, people getting arrested and tw!someone getting shot; descriptions of nightmares, allusions do drowning; trypanophobia (fear of needles); tw!panic attacks; jemily if you squint; ah there's also fluff, i'm not a monster; conversations about future plans.

A/N: summary sucks i'm aware! that's been on my notes for far too long. i was deciding whether i should kept my old writing style or make it fit my new one but none of the options would have match the other two chapters so i kinda mixed the two. that's why "y/n" is in here.

navi

masterpost

➶ ➷

Raymond Henley and Carlos Stewart were arrested that evening.

Thanks to the hard drive files Y/N had stored minutes before everything happened, there was enough proof of the data breach; luckily she had gotten there before Carlos could enter her office and wipe out everything.

Aaliyah Zara was found safe and sound in an old building on a different neighborhood. When her aunt said that the girl would never run away; she was right. But the girl's father, Miron Zara picked his daughter up from school that day, as a surprise. The only reason this was never brought up during the investigation was because the cameras never got images of his vehicle — he parked strategically in a street corner with no surveillance. The data breach was contained. Well, the FBI covered it with as much excuses as they could. Everybody knew that the money could never be fully recovered. “How is she?” Derek asked JJ as they tried to keep their conversation as low as possible for the sake of the hospital hall creepy silence.

“Sleeping.” The blonde replied, adding a third packet of sugar on the cup beside hers. Her lips instantly lifted in a grimace once she poured in the fourth. It wasn't for her anyway — she at least hoped this would calm Spencer's nerves down. “Her liver was fixed up, thankfully. Doctor said that if the bullet crossed an inch longer she might've lost it.” She stole a glance at her best friend. His neck in an odd position as he took a nap against his will on the uncomfortable waiting room chair and curls covering half of his face. His body was too tired so it was bound to happen, he couldn't fight it anymore. When a wave of jet black hair crossed her eyesight a few feet away JJ quickly made an excuse. “Can you take this up to him when he wakes up? I need to do something.” She didn't wait for Derek's nod to leave.

“Family of miss Y/L/N?”

Before Derek could utter a single word, Spencer's head snapped around to the sound of Y/N's name. A hiss left his lips at the crack his neck gave out. Derek watched Spencer carefully as they both moved to hear what the Doctor had to say.

“Em.”

Emily stopped staring at the TV to lift her attention to JJ, she wasn't paying attention, her mind was griped in worry for her best friend.

“Is Y/N pregnant?” JJ was specialized in talking to victims families, which means that she needed to smooth out the territory before revealing the awful truth, as a way to making them feel better even for an unique second. But now she didn't feel like beating around the bush. And by Emily's reaction she could tell she had been right. She breathed out in astonishment.

“Don't tell anybody. She just found out, she isn't ready to—”

“I wouldn't do that, Em.” JJ said softly. Emily gave her a look of gratitude. “So, Spence and her...”

“I'm still trying to figure that out myself.” Emily sighed heavily.

“His reaction when she got shot didn't made it clear enough for you?”

“I knew he was seeing someone.” Emily bit her cheek, “I knew she was seeing someone, too. But I didn't know they were seeing each other.”

Isn't she married? JJ wanted to ask but she stopped herself. This was none of her business.

Emily stood up with her eyes glued to a certain spot. When Jenifer followed her gaze, she saw there was a doctor talking to her co-workers. So, they made their way there.

“... also, there's no risk to the baby. They'll both be alright.” Emily froze her walking and JJ almost bumped into her back. Oh my god, she mentally yelled, studying Spencer in panic. He had a frown etched into his face. “Miss Y/L/N will only go through the usual recovery process and—”

“Wait— I'm sorry.” Spencer cuts her off as Derek shared a look with the girls behind the Doctor. “What did you say?”

The women raised her eyebrows, “Uh, the recovery process—”

“No,” He interrupted again, almost losing his patience. Emily would have to intervene soon. “About the—uh, the baby?”

The room seemed to go down to minus forty degrees when the specialist carried on. “Oh, of course. The fetus wasn't jeopardized by the wound or the loss of blood. She's still early on the pregnancy and there's higher risks on the first trimester, but there's absolutely nothing to worry about besides carrying on with the usual check-ups.” She regarded everyone that had gone quiet with curiosity. “You might visit her soon. She will be awake at any time now.”

“Right. Thank you so much.” Emily said, dismissing the women politely. When she left, Derek still had a lost look on his face, JJ was stealing a glimpse at Spencer's reaction and Spencer was... Well, he was staring at the floor. His mind working on full strength over the past few weeks.

Her behaviour. Literally, all of her behaviour lead to the present diagnosis.

He even rulled out pregnancy from the mental list he'd made when she had gotten sick. She had said it was just a bad stomachache. Since he hadn't seen her nauseous or dizzy after she claimed it, he let it go.

That's because I had not seen her at all these days.

But she had been distant this past week. Was this why?

How could he be so fucking dense?

“Reid?” Derek squeezed his shoulder and he blinked a bit startled. “You okay?”

“Yes.” No.

“Can I have a word with him, Morgan?” Emily appeared out of thin air by his side. No, she had been there all along, you idiot. It just feels like you're out of the loop right now. Get a grip.

As soon as Derek left, Emily cleaned her throat, making him look at her. “Reid, how are you feeling?”

He seemed to wake up at that moment, “Me?” His features suddenly smoothed out in realization. “You knew.”

Emily opened her mouth but shut just as soon as she did. “Spencer—”

“You knew she was pregnant and you let her go on in the case?” An indignant look took over his face as he retracted his arm from her reach. Not missing the way the hurt flashed though her eyes. “Emily, she could've—”

“There was no imminent danger, Spencer—”

“Yes, as we saw a few hours ago!” He snapped and stormed out, leaving her alone in the visiting room as he marched towards his girlfriend's room.

“Go.” Derek ordered the blonde that watched the scene unfold anxiously. She turned to him, “Go talk to Prentiss.” He nodded in the brunette's direction. Derek understood he wasn't needed, but JJ was. It's always JJ that deals with a solemn Emily in certain moments, somehow, she is the only one that knows what to do. What to say. And now she was needed. Because Spencer must've said something harsh as he usually do when he's mad. Jennifer knows, she was on the receiving end of his anger once.

•°. *࿐

Stop swimming. Let it go.

Let it go.

Y/N didn't want to let it go.

She was a very good swimmer back in her youth, those skills don't go away with time, do they?

It felt like she was in the ocean. Barely keeping her head above water as her legs struggled below. Every time she tried to go forward, towards the trees, she felt something pulling her in, drowning her.

She could only see trees. No sand, no land. Just trees.

Not having the knowledge that you are dreaming can gift you a feeling of despair. That you don't know how you got there, why would you even be in the sea in the first place?

Although, having the knowledge that you're dreaming can be quite terrifying. You know it isn't real. This isn't really happening. But do you know when will it be over? It can go on for minutes but it always feels like hours, days even. Dreams are deceiving. Nightmares are entrapping.

She knew this wasn't real. And she was drowning. She couldn't breath. She couldn't see what was ahead because her vision was blurry.

Y/N didn't want to let go. She didn't want to stop fighting. But she was tired and desperate, there was no other way out.

She stopped swimming.

When she woke up first, she felt nothing. It was numb. Then, itchy sheets and a distinct but strong smell. There was a heaviness on her right hand which was the first thing she actually felt. Fluttering her eyes open, she was received with light green and white. Hospital. I'm in a hospital. After her brain made up where she was, the heaviness on her hand intensified to a squeeze. She turned to the side, blinking repeadly so her sight could adjust.

A hand grasped her own. She squeezed back still a bit confused. But when she looked up, a warmth filled her chest almost immediately.

Spencer.

“Hi,” The corner of his lips turned upwards as he watched her trying to grasp her surroundings.

“Hi.” Y/N swallowes, her throat was incredibly dry for someone that was drowning. He seemed to understand her actions as he offered a cup with a straw for her to sip the cool water. “Thanks.” She croaked out, clearing her throat. His hand supported her back as she shifted to a sitting position.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked, leaving the cup on her bedside table. Y/N studied him carefully.

“Fine. And you?” He raised his eyebrows and her forehead creased in confusion as she scanned over his features. No bandage, not even a bandaid on his face. “All that blood you had in you, Spencer." She said, lifting a hand to touch the side of his chin, turning it to the side. "How are you not in a bed right now?”

His eyes softened. “That wasn't my blood, sweetheart.” The crease in her forehead deepened. “It was yours. You got shot, Y/N.” He gave her hand another squeeze, this time bringing it to his lips.

It took her a while to understand that but Spencer waited patiently. She was still heavy on meds, it wasn't like he expected her to not be confused right after waking up.

“Right.” She said, eyes unfocused. “Did you... find the girl?”

“Yes. She's safe.” Spencer watched her attention drifting elsewhere. “Y/N?”

“What about the—”

“Arrested. We got them too. Are you okay?” He quickly studied her heart monitor screen to see if anything was altered.

Y/N shifted in her position. She was feeling uncomfortable. She felt naked. “Can you take these off?” She gestured for the cannula inserted in the back of her hand, frowning as she looked at it. “I hate it.” She wanted to scream. She felt trapped. Was she awake yet? This is real, right?

“No, sweetheart. It takes the medication into your system faster, you can't take it off.”

“Just— just get it off of me, Spencer.” The constriction in her airways made it difficult for her to breath. Her eyes assuming a moist aspect. Taking her hands in his was the way Spencer found to grab her attention, the heart monitor going off.

She hated needles. She hated hospitals all-together. That was one of the first things he learned about her when they were still getting to know each other.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He cupped her face, locking their eyes.

Letting out a shallow breath she mumbled a tearful “I hate needles—”

“I know.” He said calmly. It was heartbreaking but he had to be the one who calmed her down. “Breath in for five and breath out for four, okay? Can you try it with me?” he requested softly, caressing her cheek.

She did it after a few seconds. During ragged breaths the repetition helped her chest fill up with oxygen again. Relief washing over her body.

It wasn't long until her head was resting upon Spencer's chest once he climbed up in bed with her in a rather uncomfortable position. He didn't care. As long as she was alright with it.

It took five minutes of idle conversation for Y/N to forget about the needles. Spencer made sure to cover her hand and forearm with the blanket so she wouldn't pay attention to it.

“You should get some sleep.” He muttered, kissing her temple softly.

“I was having a nightmare, I don't want to sleep.” She said quietly, playing with the fabric of his dark brown sweater vest.

A frown etched onto his forehead, “You wanna talk about it?” She denied the request with a shake of her head, leaning further into his touch.

Their moment was interrupted by a knock on the door and a doctor entered the room right after. The same woman that had given news about Y/N's wellbeing to the team before.

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N. I'm Doctor Young. How are you feeling now?” She strode to Y/N's side, eyes glued to the medical chart. Spencer split apart from Y/N to sit in a chair, giving her a smile to reassure he wouldn't be going anywhere.

“Tired.” Y/N shifted on the bed, “But fine.” Something seemed to come up in her mind. “Actually, I'd like to ask something.” She said, cutting Dr. Young off just as she was about to explain whatever was on her chart.

Y/N then gave Spencer a look that silently said she needed to talk to the woman in private.

“I'll go grab a coffee and be right back.” Spencer pressed his lips against her forehead, offering the doctor a tight-lipped smile as he left the room.

•°. *࿐

“I need to tell you something.”

She said as soon as he walked back into the room. God, it was hard to even swallow.

Spencer gave her a nod, taking a sip of the coffee. That's awful. He left it aside with a sigh, moving to sit beside her bed.

“You— I don't know how you'll react.” She said, her head working like wildfire.

“Why are you worried about how I'll react?”

“Because I lied to you.” Your breath stopped for a moment. “For a few days. Not on purpose, of course. I just— I wasn't ready to tell you yet.”

Spencer leaned back on the chair, “Okay,” he said calmly.

She surveyed his face, not being able to grasp what he was thinking. What he was feeling. He didn't let on any reaction. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

She hated profiles and their abilities to mask their emotions.

“Spencer.”

Spencer let out a sigh, leaning closer. He took your hand, carefully enough to not move the wires. “I won't be upset or mad at you. I promise, alright?”

She pursued her lips, inhaling longingly.

“I— I got a divorce.” Y/N let out, gulping. Is that it? Really? “Just waiting for the papers to be signed.”

Spencer hummed, brushing back her strands. “How are you feeling about this?”

Lifting her chin, she looked up at him confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your marriage just... ended.”

“That couldn't be qualified as a marriage, Spence.” She rolled her eyes. “I was done with him.” As soon as I met you. “I'm happy with you, do you understand that?”

Spencer nodded, smiling softly when he felt her fingers curl around his wrist and a tug at his arm. He sat on the edge of her bed just like before.

“There is something else.” She whispered, playing with his fingers to ease her mind.

“You can tell me,” He mumbled, pecking her forehead.

Y/N stammered before speaking, but when she finally said it it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders.

“I'm pregnant.”

Spencer didn't move nor did he said anything, which made her flinch away from him to take a look at his face. He was smiling. Almost grinning if it wasn't the fact that he was holding it back.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Her eyes narrowed at him. “Did you know?”

“Not exactly.”

Y/N stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean not exactly, Spencer? Who told you?” Who even knew? was the question running around her mind.

“Nobody!” He widened his eyes, watching her getting worked up quickly. It really was not a good sight to make Y/N mad. A bit frightening, if you will. “Actually, Emily—”

“Emily?!”

“Sweetheart, let me speak.” Spencer asked kindly. Y/N pressed her lips together, her eyebrows creasing. “Emily had to tell the doctor and I overheard. That was it, alright?”

Y/N nodded, forehead smoothing slightly. “Yeah, okay.”

"Did you know that, statistically, 97% of people have one or more secrets; which makes it an average of 13 secrets per person? Depending on what you're keeping and who you are keeping it from, it can cause damages to your well-being, like reducing one's emotional resilience or cognitive issues and— I'm rambling." He winced, cutting himself off. "Sorry."

You chuckled, poking his cheek. "I told you I don't mind it when you do." With a clear of throat, she kept her gaze on him. "Thirteen secrets per person uh? How many of those have you kept from me, Doc?"

"You'll never know." She snorted, rolling her eyes as he smiled cheekily. She'd have to be one of the only people that actually paid attention when he drifted away from the main subject.

His eyes studied her for a bit before he grasped her attention again, “Why didn't you tell me? Do you know how dangerous it was for you to enter that case?”

“I'm pregnant, not stupid. I knew what I was doing.” Y/N retorted, giving him a look. “And I didn't tell you because— Because I wasn't ready yet. I didn't even know what I wanted to do yet. Was trying to figure out my own mind.” Her eyes softened, “But I am sorry.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, caressing her cheek. “It's okay.”

Her face scrunched up, “If I didn't know you any better I'd say you were excited.”

Spencer looked down at their hands, the corner of his lips lifting slowly as his mind worked with possible future images.

“Aren't you?” When he met her eyes he realised he shouldn't have assumed what she was going to do. He didn't want to induce her on anything. “I mean... What do you want to do? I'm sorry I didn't ask before—”

“It's fine.” She shifted on the bed, bringing her body closer to his. “I want to keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I've thought about it.” She shrugged, messing with the small part of his tie that was being displayed. Y/N lift her chin just like the previous position to look at him. “Are you okay with that?”

“If you are then I am,” he leaned down a bit to press a kiss against her lips. She hummed in response.

"But it doesn't just concern me, Spence. It's- It's bigger than that, isn't it? I don't want you to regret it later. So, just- just think about it."

He frowned, forehead twitching in confusion, "But it's not my choice, Y/N. It's yours. It's not my place to regret it or not- not that I ever would regret it," Spencer quickly added, squeezing her hand. "Just know that whatever decision, I'll be there, I won't leave your side. Never."

That was safety felt like. Not empty bed and cold sheets.

“I guess, I should let them in now?” Spencer said after a while of soft talk between them. Y/N frowned in confusion but then her eyes lit up in understanding.

“Right. Is everyone okay? Did anyone else get hurt?”

“No.” Spencer shook his head in response, brushing hair behind her ear. “Don't worry. They're all good. I'm gonna send them in now, alright?”

She nodded, adjusting the blanket on her lap.

As soon as Spencer left the room, a few seconds later, came in an exasperated Penelope Garcia. A grimace formed on Y/N's lips.

“What were you thinking scaring me like that!” The blonde exclaimed, walking towards her injured friend's hospital bed. “Ms. Y/L/N, you do not get to get shot and give me a heart attack, okay?”

“Sorry.” Y/N replied with a sad smile and quickly opened her arms in which Penelope found herself in no time. “Didn't mean to scare you, Pen.” They haven't known each other for long but in the little time they've had they clicked instantly. Especially because of their common interests.

Sniffling, Penelope nodded against her shoulder. “It's okay. It wasn't your fault, baby. But we were so worried.”

“You gave us a little scare there, hacker.” Derek chipped in, crossing his arms. He would admit later on that he actually took a liking to her in the meantime they were working together. “Glad you're okay. We all are.” He switched looks with the team and in the end locked eyes with Spencer, who was just watching everything quietly. “Especially pretty boy over there. He was out of his damn mind.”

Spencer cleaned his throat, finding something on the floor very interesting. Y/N gave him a soft smile.

Derek didn't need anything else to be said to understand what was going on between them. But he would most definitely have a talk to Reid another day.

“So, you're feeling good?” Emily studied her for a while.

Y/N gave her a reassuring smile and nodded, “Yeah. All good. Ready for another one, actually.”

“You're funny.” Spencer snarked, giving her a look to which she scrunched her nose at.

They stayed inside the room until the doctor kicked them out, because only one person per visit was allowed, not the entire FBI.

Y/N asked for Emily to stay behind before she could leave with the others. Emily did, her serious demeanor never changing.

Y/N knew what was going on inside her head.

“Em, it wasn't your fault,”

“You could've died.” Emily croaked out. Now that everyone had left she felt her will to cry growing even more. She almost lost her best friend. “Y/N, you could've died.”

“But I'm here. It barely grazed me, okay? Em.” Y/N mentioned her to get closer, offering her hand. It wasn't truth. The bullet hadn't barely grazed her. It had punctured her body which caused a big blood loss. But that was beside the point now. The important is to complete vanish this stupid idea of Emily's mind. “It was not your fault.” She said firmly, bringing her closer so she could embrace her. Feeling a nose burying in her shoulder and her hospital gown getting wet because of tears, she carried on. “I love you. Stop blaming yourself, I'm right here and we caught the bastards.”

They both shake with Emily's surprise laugh. Y/N is more than satisfied with the reaction.

“I love you, too. Don't ever scare me like that again, okay?”

“I promise.”

Emily left the room after they had their moment, and Spencer walked in not five minutes later. He didn't spare a word before diving straight into her arms. Carefully, of course, given her injuries.

"Oh, hello," said Y/N as a smile spread on her lips. But there was a hint of concern when he buried his nose into your neck and let out a shaky breath, "Hey, you okay, Doc?"

His voice was muffled by her clothing. She frowned, not understanding.

“Spencer, what did you say?”

He turned to the side, and she could see the man with a lazy grin over his lips.

“I said that I'm happy,” he repeated, trailing the edge of neck to her cheekbones with a finger. “I'm glad you're okay." He said, smile faltering. "I was so scared to lose you."

"I'm right here," she said, leaning her forehead on his. "Don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon." A hum of satisfaction left her throat when the corner of his mouth raised in a grin.

"That's good." He whispers. "Because I'm not going to let you go anywhere." Again.

Y/N tilted her head enough so their lips could meet. The kiss was slow, safe, it felt like it should happen. Like a lot of things in her life at that moment. Spencer pulled back when she started chuckling, brows knitting in confusion.

"What?"

She raised a finger, a silence request for him to wait her laughing fit stop. Spencer studied her face with a mix of amusement and slight concern. He stole a look at the heart monitor again.

“Are we going to be parents?” It's what leaves her mouth. Her face flushed as she recovered from the laughs. "How is this— That's insane, isn't it?" She scans his face for any trace of regret but only proceeds to find a fond gaze. "Oh, stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?" He tries to hold back a grin but it's foolish.

"Like you're completely in love." She says, hand hovering over his vest absentmindedly. "You're going to get bored of me soon." She lets out quietly, watching as he prepares to protest. "Even so, would you take me as I am? Stubborn, paranoid, reckless and extremely hard headed?"

"You could say stubborn again."

"I will stick this needle into your jugular vein."

Spencer let out a boisterous laugh. His eyes wrinkling on the edges. There was no other reaction besides her fond gaze. She is so in love, she feels like an idiot.

“I will take you as you are," he took her hands in his, thumb drawing circles on her palms. His amber eyes met hers. "Stubborn, paranoid, reckless and extremely hard headed." He lists on, bringing one of her hands to his lips and then the other one, without breaking eye contact. "There's nothing that I would change in you and there's nothing that would make me love you any less than I do. I felt for who you are now and I will keep falling for who you will become in the foreseeable and unforeseeable future." He pauses. "I love you. Both of you."

Averting her eyes, she retracts her hands from his to wrap around his middle, burying her face in the croak of his neck. Vanilla and coffee and books. That's what he smells like. Home. She kissed the spot, shutting her eyes. She wouldn't dare going anywhere, this is exactly where she wanted to be.

"I love you, too, Spencer."

➶ ➷

taglist: @sebastiansstanswhore

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#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #mess is mine series #winds of change

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

Note

Ok cool! In that case can you write a Morpheus x reader where the reader hears about Morpheus other lovers and she feels unworthy and her mood plummets.Morpheus of course notices immediately and asks her what’s wrong and after a bit of coaxing she tells him everything that’s been on her mind and that even if she will be just one of the string of lovers he will have in the future she’s glad she got a chance to love him.Morpheus is understandably horrified that she would think that and in order to convince her otherwise they have a very intimate ✨moment✨😏 Where Morpheus tells her how much he loves her and states that she may not be his first lover but she will be his last and he proposes and offers to make her his queen and an endless of equal standing beside him (obviously she says yes)

One tender smut piece coming right up my friend! 🥰

You'd known there were others before you. You weren't naive. But knowing was one thing and seeing was another. As you stared in awe at the Muse Calliope you could feel a wave of dread and doubt settle in your stomach, twisting everything inside you into tight knots. She was far more beautiful than you, an immortal being of pure inspiration was going to be, but on top of that beauty she was so kind and so... Perfect.

Dream had made it clear that the two of them weren't meant to be, especially after the death of their son. He'd said some words, some things just could never be forgotten between them. Looking at the pair of them now though, it didn't feel like they'd lost an ounce of whatever spark of passion that had brought them together. It was painful for you, even though you'd trusted him and loved him and was happy that he'd agreed to open his realm to her.

You'd say none of this to him, of course, he wouldn't understand. It wasn't like you had any lovers that could even compare to the beautiful, powerful Dream of the Endless. But late that night long after Calliope had gone the weight hadn't followed her. You found yourself laying in your shared bed, thinking of how many lovers he'd had before you... Of how each of them were probably more beautiful and stronger and better than you could ever hope to be.

These thoughts would transfer to your dreams when you finally managed to sleep. And in your dreams these thoughts were ones that your lover could hear.

Dream was finishing his work when the sound of taunting voices began. They were dark and hushed, but they sounded like you. He followed them all the way into your dream, or rather your nightmare. It was hardly the worst he'd seen, but the fact that it was you made his heart clench. You sat in front of a mirror, images of lovers from his past hovering over your reflection, over accentuating your flaws. Behind you a shadowed version of yourself stood, claws digging deep into your shoulders as it whispered vile things in your ears.

"You will never be as beautiful as them."

"You will never be a goddess or muse. You will only ever be human. Dull. Weak. Boring."

"He loved them more."

"You're holding him back."

"You will never be them."

Dreams hands clenched into fists. "Enough, nightmare. Leave us."

The nightmare that had been perched on your shoulder turned and shifted back to its natural form, bowing to Dream and slithering away to whatever victim awaited it. You remained frozen in front of the mirror, tears staining your cheeks as he came to stand behind you.

He kissed the angry marks on your shoulders, cold hands smoothing up and down your back as he wound his arms around you. "It is over, my love. The nightmare has passed."

You shook your head. "It won't pass. It can't because it's true."

His brows furrowed as he looked at you in the mirror. "Why would you think such things?"

"I'm not..." You sighed. "I'm never going to be like them."

"I do not want you to be like them," he whispered. "You are perfect just as you are."

"Morpheus I'm-"

He turned your head and pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the words and lapping up the sour feeling they left on your tongue until all that remained was him. You were breathless when he pulled back and stroked your wet cheeks. "I'll hear no more of this."

Breathing in the intoxicating smell on his coat you sighed. "It's not that simple."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, turning you to face him. "Perhaps a demonstration is long overdue."

Your brows furrowed as you looked up at him. "Demonstration?"

Dream merely smiled. "Of course, I can think of no better way to show you exactly how perfect you are."

The dream faded, gliding across your mind like strands of silk until at last you woke up. Your lover stood at the foot of the bed, neatly folding his coat over the edge of it before turning to you with a tender gaze. Your heart beat wildly in your chest as he moved toward you, carefully kneeling beside you to take your hand in both of his and press a soft kiss to it. He moved up your arm slowly, purposefully kissing every inch of your skin before he finally reached your shoulder.

"Morpheus," you breathed out.

He smiled, as he often did when you said his name like that. "Yes my love?"

"What are you doing?"

"I am worshipping you." With one thought from him your clothes vanished leaving you trapped between the silk sheets and the silk of Dreams wandering hands.

Oh, this is what he meant. "Morpheus, you don't have to-"

"I am Dream of the Endless," he breathed against your skin. "The King of dreams and the ruler of the nightmare realms. Do you think I would do something I did not wish to?"

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to try and mask the way his voice alone sent shivers of heat and want through you. "No. But, I still wanted you to know this isn't necessary."

He chuckled at that. "On the contrary, worship is essential when hoping to please a goddess."

Those lips of his moved up your neck. "I'm not a goddess."

"You are to me," he whispered in your ear. "Now, no more words my dreamer. Just give me those sweet moans."

Your lips crashed together in a dance of opposites. The warmth of your skin practically hissed beneath your lovers icy touch as his hands explored the plains of your back. You pushed, desperate to meet his enthusiasm with that of your own, and he pulled willing to take everything you offered to him. Being touched, loved, by the Dream Lord was consuming in the best possible way.

Dream finally pulled back, cradling your head in his hands as he moved his lips down your throat, tongue darting out to taste your skin, as he made his way down your body. His chilled breath fanned across your nipple, bringing it swiftly to a peak as he wrapped his mouth around the hardened bud. It should've been considered a sin, the things he could do with his mouth alone that made you moan and writhe beneath him.

Your breaths were heavy as he moved his attention to the other breast, nipping at your skin lightly before giving it the same attention he'd given the other. "Morpheus," you whined as the sensation grew near unbearable.

He chuckled, running his palms down your sides to grip your hips tightly. "Worship cannot be rushed, my love."

"Could you just fuck me then?" you asked, the teasing in your tone almost vanished as he kissed down your stomach.

"I could," he admitted.

"But you won't?"

His hands slid beneath your thighs, easing them apart as his glowing eyes met yours. "Patience, my dear."

Your back arched off the bed when his tongue licked a long, languid strip up your core, brushing against your clit in a deliciously slow display. Dream smirked, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before returning his mouth to where you wanted him most. Once again he brought you far too much pleasure with his tongue alone, spending hours between your thighs basking in the way your thighs trembled around his head and how you cried out his name and pulled his hair. He groaned as one of his fingers penetrated your hot, pulsing core, moving slowly and gently to help work yet another orgasm from your sweet lips.

Devotion was something Dream of the Endless knew well, he had yours and you had his, getting this chance to show you such was a blessing far beyond what he deserved. "Morpheus," you begged between heaving breaths.

"Is your head finally free of those horrid thoughts, my love?"

You nodded quickly. "Yes."

"Tell me, what thoughts have replaced them?"

"You," was your only answer, one that made pride flare within his chest.

His lips moved back up your body, kissing every tender piece of flesh that he knew drove you wild. "Good, let's keep it that way for a moment longer."

Magic rid him of his clothes with ease, leaving nothing between him and your soft heated skin. Dream kissed you, swallowing the sharp wanton moan that you let loose as he wasted no time splitting you open with his cock. Your body trembled beneath him, the waves of your previous pleasure beginning to stir once again. "Morpheus."

Burying his face into the crook of your neck he pulled his hips back slowly, drawing out another long moan from your lips as he too felt shivers of delight run down his spine. You were heavenly, mind body, and soul. These intimate moments with you made it difficult for him to keep his composure. "You are divine," he told you. "The way you sing beneath me could rival that of the most inspired composers."

Your hands latched onto him, finding purchase in his hair and clawing at his back. "Please."

He smiled down at you, caging your head between his arms. "Command me, my love. Tell me what you want and it shall be yours."

"Fuck me," you answered instantly. Your eyes, darkened with pleasure, met his as you pulled at him more desperately. "Please Morpheus."

Fuck you he would. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed in his room as The Dreaming seemed to swallow the sounds just as greedily as he did. Your orgasm came swiftly as did the one that followed as he continued to fuck you through it. You had no concept of time when all you could feel was him and every thought that occupied your mind was little more than prayers whispered in his name.

When his hips finally began to falter, his hands fisting into the sheets beside your head, you looked up into his eyes and arched your back. Your lips traced down his throat as he threw his head back, finally losing his iron-clad grip on that famous kingly composure and fucking you in earnest. You adored these brief moments where his power rolled off your skin like satin lightning and whispers of shadow. You adored the way his touch burned and bruised as he lost himself in the pleasure.

After you'd caught your breath and your body finally ceased shivering he stroked your skin, still wet with a sheen of sweat and gently asked the question that had troubled him so, "Why did you not tell me Calliope's presence made you feel such things?"

"Morpheus," you moaned against his throat. A shuddering breath left him as he moved his hips harder and faster into you. "Please."

It was amazing how one word whispered so reverently from your lips could make him come undone. Amazing how his body memorized the way it felt as you came with him. Amazing how such a primal thing as sex felt sacred now that he had you. He gently rolled off you, keeping you tightly tucked into his chest as the two of you silently recovered in the softness of his bed and each other's arms.

With a sigh you lifted your head to look deep into his star filled eyes and with a smile. "Because it isn't her fault, and it's not yours either. Calliope is someone you love, not in the way you did, but she's still important to you. Her visit was important for both of you and I would never even think of robbing you of that just because I was feeling insecure."

"Your feelings are just as important as mine," he insisted. "What can I do if these thoughts return?"

With a smile you shimmied even closer to him. "I think your demonstration was quite helpful."

Dream brushed his nose against yours. "Then, next time you feel this way come to me. Tell me that my perfect dreamer is in need of worship and I shall see to it."

"I love you."

"As I love you, dreamer."

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putschki1969 · 8 months

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youtube

Something Summer Themed 【Origami】

Hello, this is Hikaru. Thank you for watching! This time, I tried to come up with something having the end of summer and the holiday season in mind since this will be my last video update in August☀️ What did you all do during the summer holidays💭 It's been a long time since I did origami but It was a lot of fun ☺️ I cannot wait to receive your comments as well as suggestions for future videos!

Hikaru at Today's Music Champ Event: “3rd anniversary”

26 Hours Music Champ Vol.3 “Let’s connect - Future” Homepage: music-champ.com/26h-program Date: 8/26 Sat 20:00 - 8/27 Sun 22:00 Hikaru appearance: August 27 16:00〜17:00 「Hikaruとゆるっと」 17:00〜21:00 「Music Champ Present’s “SPECIAL DREAM LIVE 2023 Summer"」 The first part will be "talk” heavy, the second part is a dedicated live corner in which Hikaru will also have an appearance.(Source)

Tweet 1 & Tweet 2 % Tweet 3 by Hikaru | Instagram post by Hikaru | Music Champ Tweet | Music Champ Tweet | Music Champ Tweet

I wasn't able to watch but it seems like Hikaru sang Flow and Awe, possibly one other (collab) song too.

Awe Digital Release

Also, Hikaru announced that AWE will be released digitally TODAY at midnight (JST) so please look forward to it!

Awe ℗ 2023 Hikaru Released on: 2023-08-28 Composer: HaKA/Command S; Lyricist: Hikaru

Following her 1st, 2nd and 3rd digital single release as freelance artist, Hikaru is now releasing her 4th digital single titled “Awe”.

You can purchase and stream Hikaru’s 4th digital release as freelancer on various sites (mora, OTOTOY, iTunes etc) and streaming platforms (Spotify, YouTube, Apple Music, etc).

Please be sure to ❗SUPPORT HIKARU❗ in any way you can!

• ————— ¤ ♫ ¤ ————— •

BUY it on mora(TUTORIAL here)

BUY it on OTOTOY

BUY it in your local iTunes

• ————— ¤ ♫ ¤ ————— •

Ohhhh, she is using the same cathedral background as the one on the Kalafina Winter Acoustic album cover!(Oh, no, I got a little too excited there for a moment and didn't double-check before writing this, it's not the same image after all. Still, it looks like she was at least heavily inspired by that Kalafina cover). At any rate, it seems particularly fitting when you consider SPICE's Takeshi Kato mentioning that he felt like “Awe” was very reminiscent of her old Kalafina style. I'll admit, I initially wouldn't have made that connection but the longer I listen to the song, the more sense it makes. And it would definitely explain why I am so smitten with it. Damn, I'm obsessed. And I mean, he is not wrong, the song is certainly on a Kalafina-level of dark and dramatic. That bridge with the strings and choir is pretty epic too. I can say with confidence now that is my absolute favourite freelancer solo track so far. And I am glad her singing in the studio version is a bit more polished. She still sounds raw but it suits the atmosphere of the song.

#kalafina #hikaru #video #hikaru ch.#music champ #Youtube #Awe #freelancer hikaru #god this is so embarrassing #I hate to publicly make a fool of myself #sorry to everyone who read the stuff about the cover image #feeling particularly insecure about stupid mistakes like this

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fascinatedscrawls · 7 days

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Phic Phight Prompt: The people of the apocalyptic future have no idea what to call this Phantom look-a-like menace, so they keep coming up with increasingly ridiculous names to refer to him as, but none seem to stick. At Dan's insistence to choose anything with a modicum of dignity, they all double down just to cheese him off. Terrible merch, puns, and awful slogans of his various names are plastered all over the city next to his face. He cannot stand it

Word Count: 2209

For Shinx

Summary:

Even in the face of a one ghost catastrophe, the world keeps spinning. Everyone copes with the new normal in different ways, some get angry, others ignore it, and Tony? Tony likes to laugh when he can, especially at the one who caused all of this. Sharing his collection of everyone's various stabs at naming the ghost terrorizing them is dangerous, but always worth it. Especially when he knows how much that guy hates every last one of them.

It's a quiet afternoon.

Well, these days it's always quiet. With a ghostly madman exacting some sort of revenge or twisted justice wherever he happened to be, most people only go out when they have to and try to go as unnoticed as they can manage while doing it. Especially this close to the ruined city of Amity Park.

Tony's second-hand store is just over fifty miles from the abandoned town where some argue this all started. That doesn't bother him though, he's got no plans to try and see it like the thrill seekers. Besides, people all over the globe have reported seeing that flying catastrophe all in the same day so Tony's pretty sure that no place can be truly safe.

He barely thinks about these days and as it as he wastes time in the back while waiting for a customer to find their way to the store it doesn't even cross his mind. He's already dusted, put out all the new supplies (the handful he received today at least), and even organized the place if one feels very generous about their definition of 'organized'.

It's only when he's unhappily contemplating the stacks of accounting paperwork piled up on his desk that he hears someone come in and he's not ashamed to admit that he lets out a gusty sigh of relief at the sound of that little bell above the door. Pushing himself out of his chair, he sweeps the papers into a drawer and makes sure everything is secure before stepping into the shop proper to greet whoever entered.

"Welcome, welcome." Tony smiles at the young lady even as she nods at him stoically. Her grim demeanor doesn't worry him - many of those who are young like her are angry or disillusioned now that they find themselves staring down a future where they'll never be truly safe, one that might be cut short even if they want to try and live under that for decades. Firmly in his sixties and with far less to lose, Tony copes in other ways. "Take a look around, I have quite the selection."

"So I've heard." The sharp cut of her short dark hair only makes the green of her eyes more noticeable as she gives his wares a perfunctory glance. Whatever she's looking for, it's not here and Tony knows what she'll be asking for before she says, "Rumor has it you have some rare collectables."

He knows he shouldn't, knows how suspicious it looks and how futile the effort is when the real threat can go invisible, but Tony still glances out the yellowing glass at the front of the store as if he might catch a sting operation in progress. As usual, the street is mostly empty with only the infrequent passerby power walking to their next destination with hunched shoulders and they all pointedly pay no attention to the things around them.

Tony's eyes catch on the condemned building across the way - its windows shattered with clawed off posters lining the walls around them. The image is nearly gone on most, but those that are left with scraps of familiar ghostly hair and only the tattered ends of a name printed at the bottom of whats left of each repeated page.

He's not sure where his old friend is, the one who used to run the place and the one who put up those signs so proudly. Doesn't know if they're in hiding or if their absence is a sign of something more final.

But he knows exactly why it happened.

Yanking his eyes away from the wreckage, he smooths out the strained edges of his smile to make it sit more easily on his face.

"Oh, I find myself collecting all sorts of odds and ends." He dithers, watching her reactions closely. "It's part of the reason I opened up the shop. Is there something specific you're looking for?"

Those green eyes narrow and her lips purse as they stare each other down. Just because he knows what she's likely referring to doesn't mean it isn't dangerous. Tony doesn't know her and with a request like this it's probably better for both of them if he keeps it that way, but if someone trusted her enough to tell her then she should know how to gain access to his most dangerous yet beloved collection.

"You know, I can't quite put my finger on it." She eventually grits out, not quite grinding her teeth, but certainly unhappy to be using a code phrase.

Tony's smile widens as he steps to the side, ushering the woman to the back with a sweep of his arm.

"Well, let's see if we can't put a name to it, shall we?"

Letting out a gusty sigh at Tony's favorite joke, the young lady takes the invitation and walks by him with a roll of her eyes. She stops far enough inside the windowless room to let him follow her, but watches him closely has he shuts the door behind them.

Tony takes in her tense shoulders, the curl of her fingers as if contemplating reaching for a weapon he can't see (though that hardly means anything, it didn't before weapons could fit into people's watches and he certainly doesn't have a better eye for them now), and the couple of inches she has on him even without his perpetual slouch.

He leaves the door unlocked.

Ghosts can go intangible. If the young lady wants an exit, he'll let her have both of them. Tony glances at the fire exit at the back of the store, the one that can't be locked from the inside, then goes to unlock the small room next to his storage area.

Technically, the place is labelled as his office, but the ruse is a lazy one with his desk in clear view as soon as anyone gets into the back. It's worked out for him so far though and Tony will admit, if only to himself, that even if he doesn't want to go to Amity Park, he's still a little bit of a thrill seeker.

Just maybe not enough to paste it all over the outside of his business.

The 'office' door opens with a low creek, as if to show how infrequently people ask to see this collection. Pushing the door open and flicking on the light, Tony looks over his shoulder to see the young lady's reaction. She doesn't flinch which is encouraging - one young man almost ran out screaming at the sight, Tony was lucky the kid's friend was there to stop him from attracting the wrong attention.

Tony can't wait to see which one is her favorite.

Stepping inside, he smiles at the mismatched collection - from t-shirts to posters, figurines to mugs, floor to ceiling the walls are packed with merchandise bearing the face of that ghostly menace that haunts them all.

Who? Well, the collection aims to answer that question.

Though, judging by the angry response each of them has inspired in the subject, likely not the one the ghost wants.

"They weren't lying when they said you had the biggest collection they'd ever seen." Mentioning no names, the woman walks in to survey the items, grudging respect in her voice. "You have a lot more of the 'Inviso's than I've seen all at once."

Tony reaches up and pulls at one of the shirts to show off another one behind it - both sharing the same angry spectral face, but bearing a different name. 'Inviso-Bob' makes way for 'Inviso-Benjamin'.

"The 'Inviso' line is the classic series - based off the old 'Bill' character that used to feature on the local news stations." Beside both shirts, Tony picks up a mug with another angle on that snarl and a faint outline of a basketball behind it. "This one is my personal favorite, I picked it up from a friend who had a set printed before companies started banning these types of things due to the inevitable damage they'd lead back to them."

The young lady takes it from him to read the name printed at the bottom and snorts, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Inviso-Baller?"

Even though it's quiet, Tony still waits half a beat before letting his smile grow. (If the ghost were close enough to hear and investigate, there would be no escape for him, not in the middle of such incriminating and insulting items, but after years of being cautious, he can't help it.)

"Not much of a pun, that one, but amusing none the less." Accepting the mug back, he places it on its little shelf before gesturing around the room. "The other, hmmm, traditional names are also present along with a few unique takes on them if you'd like to take a look?"

Traditional or original, it's hard to classify. Their problems weren't even a decade old, but after nearly a decade and what must be hundreds of iterations in multiple languages, he needs some way to categorize the memorabilia.

He watches, enjoying her quiet amusement at the different names he's collected. Everyone who gains entry loves them.

The 'Phil-tom' that looks more like a mash up of common names instead of a play on phantom, the 'Phan-Thomas' on a news article next to it. 'Spec-Ted' and 'Spec-Theodore' were popular for a while, lasting a whole three weeks and gaining quite the following before the rampaging ghost came back from wherever it had disappeared to dismantle the newsroom that came up with it.

Tony has yet to see someone read the 'El Espoo-Ken' and not snicker a little and she's no different. Shaking her head a little at the postcard that showcased it, she moves on only to stop a few steps later. It's hard to see what she's looking at from here, but after a moment, Tony follows the tilt of her head to the familiar poster half hidden behind another shirt.

"Ah, I see you've found the more dangerous part of my collection." The whole thing is dangerous, but puns are one thing.

Insults are another.

He lets the door swing shut behind him, the latch not quite engaging as usual, as he steps closer to read his friend's poster once more - this time not just the scraps left on the building outside, but a pristine version he kept for himself before it all went down.

"He came to take those down far quicker than the inventor anticipated." A life and business ruined, all over one little insult.

Printed in black and white, the ghost snarls down at them. Beneath it, eight little letters. One name. Uttered first by a child, the owner's grandchild - Tony can still remember how his friend laughed about it.

"'Spec-Turd' she said, can you believe it?"

"He would."

There is something in that clipped response that makes Tony pause. He blinks at the poster before looking at her sharply.

It strikes him then that she's not just that she's tall. If he stood up straight, forced his spine to cooperate in a way he hasn't managed in years, they'd actually be quite close. No, what he's seeing isn't just height.

This young woman is unbowed. She's unbroken.

She is angry.

And judging by the fire in her eyes, by the way she talks about that ghost, it is personal.

Tony swallows and takes half a step back, suddenly feeling that maybe the unlocked doors are less for her sake and more for his.

There are many who get fed up and take a stand against the ghost.

Few survive it.

He doesn't know what he does - doesn't know if it's a rattle of his keys in his pocket, a scuff of his shoe against the concrete flooring, or simply something in the air - but in an instant she's back from whatever terrible memory the poster reminded her of, her green eyes snapping to Tony.

He successfully fights the urge to take another step back. He can't quite stop the flinch, but he can squish it into a tense smile with the ease of long practice.

"I don't sell anything here." His usual wrap-up comes out as creaky as the door's hinge. Tony coughs a little to clear the tightness from his throat. The fierce expression he saw not moments ago makes way for faint concern which makes his next question come a little easier. "Would you like to take a souvenir?"

"I-" What is clearly a negative response cuts off almost before it starts. In the silence that follows, she cuts a glance back at the poster. As she bites her lip in thought, Tony can read her intent from her expression and he tilts his head to try and remember where he put his scanner.

"Can I get a copy of this?"

If anyone else asked for that dangerous insult, Tony would have tried to talk them out of it.

Looking at her standing tall in this tiny back room, Tony finds himself recalling the few reports of someone fighting with the ghost and surviving.

No, what are the odds?

He shakes the thought away and goes to take the poster down so they can get a clean scan.

"Of course."

#phic phight #phic phight 2024 #valerie gray #one shot #danny phantom

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wlw-venting-blog · 9 months

Note

Ok I truly hope nobody I know personally finds this and - preface this is going to be a bit long and I don’t really know if this is the kind of ask you’re looking for but I needed to get my feelings out and maybe advice/nf but don’t feel pressured

I made friends with this ‘girl’ let’s call them S, around 5/6 years ago at a summer camp, we clicked instantly and for a while they where my only friend, we would go on walks together, go places, have sleep overs, play video games online together - we were inseparable, we unfortunately didn’t go to the same school but that didn’t stop us, we would hang out ever weekend basically

My parents are / where split, my dad was. Shit garbage, but that’s a long story- but I had broke down crying in front of them because something my father had done, the only friend I’ve cried infront of, I trusted them deeply, but I had contact with them (we where young - ish) through my father, so when I ended up with my mother I lost contact but they eventually found me again

We got back to talking our friendship stronger then ever! It was amazing! They still where my only friend other then a group of school friends.. one of which I had a crush on- and I talked to S about this crush and we joked about it and she was there cheering me on over text when I confessed to this girl. Who turned me down. Then said “oh wait actually! I like you and have had a crush on you for a while” then was like “jk I’m straight the rest of the group dared me to do it when I told them”- S and I got closer after that, they comforted me, we both tried to laugh about it and- slightly teasing me for having bad taste,

I had moved since we were in contact when we where younger(ish) to this place that was really safe to walk around, places to walk, things to do etc, so they were over basically every weekend, and once it was summer all the time, it was like they lived there, we would walk at night, listen to music together, joke around, probably annoy the neighbors, look at the stars and discuss our shared love for art, or writing or whatever we where interested in at the time

Eventually I fell for them, and it was different then my little crush with school friends.. they really meant something to me, looking back they were.. a bit disrespectful but I thought they were the coolest, most amazing person ever, being around them gave me butterflies, I didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but part of me hoped they felt the same, so I dropped hints and was an idiot about it - eventually doubling down and just confessing. In the most dumb stupid idiot way ever of texting them an image that was like, a text post of “hey I like you I think you’re super cool here’s why and like I don’t wanna ruin anything and aaa” and they sent like?? A meme back- and ignored it,

I never got over this crush on them, when I was going through shit I lived to see them every weekend, like I said, we did everything together, and sure they had red flags but I didn’t see them… once I kinda forgot the 1/2 confession I fell back into obsessing over them, they where my only friend, they knew that, and they started saying things like, “we should move in together when we’re older” “we should be roommates when we’re in college” “we could have… these pets together :D” [ar this point we where both out as sapphic / lesbian] and oh that made my crush so much worse- I started to believe they liked me back, and I kept this idea of a future in my heart for like, nearly a year, and they would say things- describing their ideal partner and it would sound an awful lot like me and my brain hung onto these things

As I moved again, we grew apart, I was no longer somewhere close to them or somewhere walkable, but we still tried, and I tried to get over my crush on them with the distance (physically) we had now- I even like? Tried to get crushes on other people like force myself to distract from it and it worked for awhile, I was even in a qpr for a little, but I just could stop thinking of them,, so I broke the qpr off and went back to them being my only friend

Moved again, year later ish, (to where I am now) and we got closer again, again. Still my only friend, the summer was great though, they seemed to enjoy our time together.. less, always having to be doing something or on their phone or watching something when we where together, my mental health started to depend on if they were present or not, they always made me feel unsure if they where going to show up for big event things/plans when they knew if they didn’t I would be alone, we kept playing games online and when they vented to me I would listen and tell them they where a great person and deserved the best - leaving out that for some reason I was still in love with them

I finally told my mom about this crush, she was supportive, she walked me through it, what to do, how to deal with my feelings - as I had been made to feel ashamed for liking anyone by my other parental figure, and she helped me build up the confidence to give them a little, nice gesture, a hand made bouquet of sewn flowers - that I would give THEM on MY birthday lol, and they showed up for my birthday. They didn’t say thank you for the flowers. They where on their phone the whole time, they where short with me, they ignored me, bossed me around, made fun of my favorite movie I was trying to show them. They stayed the night and we went to the town I grew up in for lunch. They sat across the table and ignored me, on their phone, they where rude to the waiters and made me order for them. They didn’t speak to me for 1/2 an hour, and only did when I offered to start heading home, the fucking effort it took not to cry around them- my parent picked us up (I don’t drive) they where silent, avoided eyecontact the whole drive. We got home, refused to do like the cutting cake thing with us, then left, went home

i cried. I yelled I sobbed- my mom was angry at them for hurting me, I was sad they where upset with me and ignored me, they sent some mean petty messages afterwards, with fake apologizes and FAR to many emojis for a sincere reply

Time passed we didn’t talk I didn’t know what to do with myself, I tried to reach out a couple times.. just to clear my mind I sent a long message to an account I knew they most likely wouldn’t have checked, basically admitted I had liked them, that I still liked them - they didn’t see it - more time passed - I tried to reach out because I didn’t want to loose my best friend of 6 years, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, they ignored me

But recently I guess they read the message. 3 months later then I sent it they read it, at like- 3am they responded, a lot response full of sorrow and guilt and kindness that sounded like the sweet caring person I knew, then… they said “I liked you. I thought I did. I still don’t know” and that they saw a future with me, unclear platonic or otherwise and I died/hyp I saw that as a chance as a confirmation that I wasn’t crazy that they had liked me, I get back into contact with them, we stay up talking 3 nights in a row over text… avoiding anything sent in the long, heartfelt message, they said “they weren’t ready to talk about it” like that’s something they get to decide, then they’re starting to go back to.. unresponsive, short awnsers and they still won’t bring up anything they said before, when all I want is to address some of the things they said - and I don’t know what to do, because I still love them, I would drop anything to have a future with them - and as we talk I realize how much they’ve moved on, that they admitted to having crushes on people well we weren’t talking which is like - obviously not a problem but hurt a littl yk? And I really like them and I feel like I shouldn’t cause of what they did and I d

~ emm, thank you for your time, 🤍/p have a good day! I’m a dumb lesbian sob sob

Girl, this was a rollacoster of emotions.

I know nothing about this friend of yours, so take my opinion with a grain of salt, but they sound toxic and I think you should try to distance yourself from them. I know it's super hard to do that when they're your only friend, but I still think you should. Maybe join a club or smth that'll let you be exposed to new people who will treat you better.

And feel free to dm me if you need to talk

#ask

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megslovesbooks · 2 years

Text

Dreamin’ of the West Coast: A companion playlist.

Liner notes below!

Oh gosh. The music in my head for this fic. Its a lot! I knew going in that it would have to be a big deal, music is always importing in my writing and since the world of this story is rooted in music I knew that I'd probably end up feeling pretty strongly about it. Some of the songs in this instalment are later additions than others, but some are cornerstone songs that really shaped where this story went. Here are my thoughts about them if you care to read.

Peaches Etude -- FINNEAS

We don't really get into it in this fic, but I definitely think that Eddie uses piano to self sooth, and I think he's been doing the same for Chris. I think this is a song he plays for his son, and when he's missing him as well. Soft and warm and home. Also, Finneas' whole vibe really resonates with my Eddie, so there will probably be more of his music in chapters to come.

Interstellar: First Step -- Performed by Kyle Landry

I went back and forth about what to use here, I knew it needed to be something sweeping and emotion as well as something incredibly technical to play. This is our chance to really understand just how good Eddie actually is, he doesn't get this gig just by being adorable you know. I debated for a while if a film soundtrack was too meta? But then I realized its my fic and i'm stealing all kinds of music to give these characters and I can do what I want so. I love this piece, it just does something to my insides every time I hear it. In my head, the part the band hears begins around the 5 minute mark, the way those last few minutes of music build is breathtaking and I love the image of that music just filling the empty space and the team just standing and listening in awe. As a side note, this is a different version than the one linked in the fic, I couldn't find this exact version on youtube.

West Coast -- OneRepublic

This is one of those cornerstone songs. The moment I heard it I knew it was for Buck. It speaks to his entire journey so beautifully and also its just so smooth and sexy. It speaks of brighter days and that spark of unquenchable hope in Buck that makes him so extraordinary. His path always leads to LA, to home. In this and every universe. I think this was one of his songs that made the band big...but it wasn't their breakout song...more to come on that.

The Maze -- Michael Schulte

This song is all vibes baby. Its about family and overcoming and speaks to who Station 118 are to each other, but it also just evokes the overall sound I imagine for the band.

Wild Turkey -- Amythyst Kiah

Ok. First. If you haven't listened to this woman PLEASE do, go check out everything she's ever done, you won't be sorry. She's a queer Appalachian musician and her music has changed my life. She's a local (to me) artist and is just exploding lately, I'm so glad, because the whole world needs to be listening to her. When I imagine Hen's singing voice, this is all I hear, that rich tone, glorious. This song is hard. Its about losing someone you loved in a way you can't begin to understand. I think it speaks to Hen and the terrible things she's had to overcome. I also like that the harmony is with another feminine voice, that's got to be Karen right? I also get really emotional when the drums come in thinking about Chim being such an important support in Hen's story.

The Boys of Summer -- The Ataris

Move Vibes, Less Plot! I have this silly idea that Station 118 always plays 2 encores, the first is one of their songs, whatever they feel like playing. The second is always something silly or weird, a cover of something they think is fun. I hope to play with this more in future too.

BONUS TRACKS

Your Ghost -- Dave Hause, Amythyst Kiah

Right off the top please know that this song deals with the murder of George Floyd in particular and police brutality in general. First and foremost, if you feel up to it, you should just listen to this song for you because it is powerful and important. But I'm putting on this list because when I think of the blend of Buck and Hen's voices, this is what I'm thinking about. I also think that Station 118 is pretty adamant about making their music stand for what they believe in like this.

The Boys of Summer -- The Hooters

I almost used this in the main fic because this kind of sound treatment is exactly what I mean when I think they do fun covers. Alas, its more mellow than I want it to be, you gotta rock people's faces off in a final encore...so just imagine this kind of treatment but the energy of the original. lol.

#911 on fox #911 fic #buddie big bang 2022 #megs writes #soundtrack time #eddie diaz #evan buckley #hen wilson #thanks for indulging my compulsive need to explain my playlists in too much detail #more to come i'm sure #Spotify

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holistic-alcoholic · 2 years

Text

It’s All About Love

my stony 2012 fic :D

rating T, humor and pining, minor Sam/Nat, Steve's a disaster, Tony's oblivious, and Sam's the only one with a braincell. For stb-bingo prompts prompts Verbal Bondage, Frenemies to Lovers, Coulson Lives, Roommates, and Dog Park.

read here or on AO3

Steve knocks at Sam’s door, feeling exhausted. He’s an image of a dried seal who hasn’t seen the water in weeks, only more pathetic.

Sam opens after a couple of knocks and doesn’t even judge him too much. He mostly looks amused, to be honest.

“Rough day?”

“Yes. Sorry to barge in, but—”

“It’s okay, man. We had plans, you knew I was home, I told you — many times — that it’s fine. Mi casa su casa.”

Steve smiles, a wave of gratitude for Sam’s existence hitting him in the chest. Sam’s great. And the day was rough.

He hadn’t got much time to rest since the end of the mission, and the sleep always has troubles coming to him; he barely got an hour of shut-eye before the press conference. And he hates those ones. Even the easy ones like today, when SHIELD parades them — mostly him, but Natasha and Clint are recognizable, too, after the battle of New York — showing that they have the world’s safety under control. The politics of it makes Steve’s skin crawl.

They asked all types of questions, today, and it seemed that the reporters cared more about his personal life than the recollection of actual events they were supposed to talk about. Natasha said to him, after, voice gentle, that it’s just how they are now. He was pretty annoyed. He knows it’s how they are. But it doesn’t make it right. Logical. Doesn’t make any sense.

The end of it was... interesting. A young guy — he sounded nervous, but they all usually did in the face of the uniform, or maybe just more polite, more reserved — asked what he thought of transgender rights. Not so blunt, of course, the question was veiled, but Steve perked up, ready to answer — he wanted to answer that. He had a lot of thoughts on the matter.

His awe in the early days of learning about the bright new future matched the resentment that came later. How he despised the fact that people were still hurt, still marginalized, that there was still an argument about the right to exist. How he despised that argument because, honestly, do not change your God-given body? They didn’t say that about him, did they? It was nothing about faith and all about bigotry. He was Catholic, he fucking knew that.

Yes, Steve had a lot to say. He started, mournfully, with his disappointment over the fact that in seven decades there has been not enough progress — not enough acceptance. He said that he found the whole argument so ridiculous, so undeserving of thought: there shouldn’t be any doubt about a person’s life, person’s decisions, identity, freedom. He talked about his body issues and the hypocrisy of men who praised him but drew the line at more misfortunate.

Steve was about to finish with an accentuated ”Fuck transphobes” when Natasha cut him off.

She sounded in agreement with him, and she made the transition flawless, but it still felt like she undermined him a little.

Steve’s tired of it.

Natasha keeps doing it — changing the narrative of his conversations with the press whenever she feels the need. It began after the time when Steve was asked whether he had troubles with technology — for a millionth bloody time — so he told in his best deadpan voice about the mortal dangers of email. It was supposed to be funny.

Nobody got the joke. Not when he was dressed in red, white and blue — not when he was wearing a symbol, a hero, a story atop himself. Captain America doesn’t joke. Captain America doesn’t know what email is.

They only mocked SHIELD about its tech support for a week, so since then, Natasha plays the moderator. Steve doesn’t really know whether she gets his jokes — or honest opinions that have too much of Steve Rogers in them, not Captain America. Natasha is hard to read, but he hopes she understands at least part of it. She’s a friend. Friendly. Closer to him than anybody else at SHIELD, more informal to him. Even if that mostly shows in her futile attempts to set him up (although, always with women). That’s probably the reason he lets her: Steve genuinely likes her.

And he has a bit of a habit to yield to strong women in his life.

But, well. It’s fine. It’s ridiculous, to be bothered by a friendly gesture. Steve doesn’t let himself be bothered.

He comes to Sam, Sam doesn’t ask more than that first question, and they play video games for a little while — until Sam swears at him and tells him to go away and stop preventing him from doing some real-life adulting.

“Maybe one last match?” Steve asks, his face a picture of innocence. “You haven’t won once today.”

“Fuck you, Rogers,” Sam grumbles and goes to his paperwork, but at least he doesn’t kick Steve out of his apartment.

Sam’s great.

Steve stays on his couch. It’s peaceful. Steve likes it way more than his own house — provided by SHIELD, furnitured by SHIELD with all the discomfort of his past but none of the real memories. Sam is the first real friend Steve made in the future, a first one who isn’t a work friend (who doesn’t know about Captain America, only Steve Rogers, a bit of a dork and a little shit who works in something incredibly confidential). Sam’s place is a safe haven.

In a while Steve grows bored watching Sam being a responsible adult, and since Sam forbade him both from helping around the flat (stop it, don’t touch my stuff! You don’t live here, man, you’re a guest, no house duties for you) and from cooking (Steve, look, I love you and I value your friendship, but if you boil anything in my kitchen ever again—), Steve gives up himself to the horrors of the internet.

He checks Twitter first and spends a peaceful minute checking out the new pieces from several artists he follows — it’s really beautiful, and he’s amazed still that it’s so much easier now to learn, to show your work, to be part of a community that transcends the physical distance, with people all over the world. Then, not wanting to delay the inevitable, he checks what’s trending. Captain America is in third place. Several first popular tweets say “Cap accidentally supports trans rights”.

Accidentally.

Steve looks at his phone with despair. He wants to throw it at the wall. He wants to throw himself at the wall. He wants to put on the uniform back and go to the Times Square and yell I fucking support every fucking human right at people, but at this point, everyone would probably think him to be a fake Cap or something.

Steve grimaces at one of the most annoying tweets and can’t stop himself from replying with a sarcastic “or, maybe, a person whose whole deal is punching injustice in the face wants to punch injustice in the face”. Then he closes the tag. Online fights are draining and pointless.

Should he punch some senator in the face? That might help. At least help him to feel better.

Steve slumps at his coach. The world’s very sad. He grows restless soon and opens his feed again, but nothing catches his attention. He needs something else to raise his spirits. Something...

With a face heating a little like it always did whenever he felt guilty as a kid, he taps a search bar and types Captain America Iron Man in it. Glancing at Sam, as if Sam would care what he does on his phone. Steve scrolls, pausing at pictures. Most of them are photos from the battle of New York — reporter photos, blurry amateur ones, and the actual art of them — of him and Tony. Sometimes with others, too. The captions always use the codenames, even for Tony — the only one of them known to the world. Some photos are from the press conferences they had together: everyone clean and presentable, Tony without the suit — or, well, in the other kind of suit — rolling his eyes at something or in the middle of saying something probably sarcastic or genius.

The amount of time Steve spends staring at those ones is strictly between him and his phone.

80% of the art is recapturing moments from the battle or comics about daily superhero life. Captions proclaim them frenemies. That word comes from some of the interviews when they had to play the opposite roles, of sorts, Steve realizes, and has nothing to do with their actual team dynamics, unknown to the public, but he still feels the discomfort, remembers the way Tony and he clashed at the first meeting, the way they were awkward and distant after. He scrolls down.

The other 20% of art is, well, porn.

Steve’s still getting used to the whole concept.

(He saves a couple of well-drawn pictures.)

In twenty minutes he gets a reply to his what if Captain America actually meant what he said tweet. It reads: “and I care about your fucking opinion so much user tonystarkstan1918”.

Steve frowns at it.

He thought he figured out the typical pattern of choosing a nickname.

Sam turns to him.

“You okay? You’ve been sighing at your phone for a while now.”

Steve grimaces. He doesn’t want to complain — his problems are pretty stupid. It’s nothing big. He tells Sam so.

“Is it about your guy?” Sam asks in a second, voice gentle.

When Steve came out to him — not that far ago — he said he liked someone, but nothing more. It’s still odd, still scary and nerve-wracking to talk about it. To know he’s allowed to talk about it. But it’s also pretty amazing.

And, well. He was staring at Tony’s face and feeling sad for himself and his (non-existent) chances.

“Partly, yes,” Steve admits.

Sam lifts his head, inviting him to speak.

“He’s just... so great,” Steve says and blushes, and then doesn’t know where to put his arms. He’s bad at this. “But he’s so out of my league, it’s not even funny.”

“Come on. Steve. You’re great. And objectively very attractive.”

Steve scoffs.

“But it’s not really what matters, is it?” He shrugs. “And we had a bad start.”

“Uh-huh?”

Steve sighs, frustrated, not sure how to explain the endless distance between him and Tony without giving out their identities.

“Look. Imagine you have a, a celebrity crush. And it’s someone big, I don’t know, a princess or something. And they’re not only famous but genuinely an amazing person. Using the status that they have to actively change the world. Succeed in it.”

“Okay, I’m crushing on Princess Diana, sure.”

“I guess. And you can’t even — can’t compare to them in any way, so you could only watch them from a distance. But you actually know this person — meet this person regularly.” Steve winces and looks directly into Sam’s eyes to continue. “And they fucking hate your guts.”

Sam stares at him for a while.

“Right. Firstly, I think you’re being a little overdramatic — I said a little, I believe it’s a serious problem, but the amount of spectacle in that last delivery was too much — and secondly, Steve. He might be great, and you guys might have a strained relationship now, but it’s not the reason to diminish yourself that way, okay? Not the reason to compare anything. You’re an amazing person. Love yourself. And while you do that, I can give your a shoulder to cry about the greatness of Mr. Right or some advice or whatever, but don’t forget step one.”

Steve nods, a little bit choked. Then he takes on the invitation and gushes about Tony. After a while, Sam looks like he regrets his suggestion, but he doesn’t say anything. Sam’s great.

It’s 9am on a Monday, and they have the Avengers meeting. It’s pretty boring. Clint doesn’t hide that he’s sleeping. Natasha had the same blank expression for 15 minutes at least; Steve thinks she’s asleep, too. Thor didn’t show up on account of not being on the planet, and so did Bruce — on account of nobody willing to make him.

Tony sauntered in twenty minutes late. He hasn’t stopped complaining about the ordeal since.

His tie has little Iron Mans on it. It’s very cute.

Steve told him “hello”, and “nice tie”, and managed not to blush or stumble over himself. He’s counting it as a win, even though the tie comment got him a frown.

Suddenly the room freezes. It happens like this: Tony stops talking, his face changing into a shocked expression, there is a sound of something falling from Clint’s direction, Maria Hill — standing in front of them — tenses in the corner of Steve’s eye, Steve turns, Steve sees it.

Agent Coulson walks inside the room.

He looks exactly like the last time Steve saw him. A non-descriptive suit, polite smile, a tablet in hand.

Alive.

“What the fuck?” Tony says in the silence.

“I second that,” Clint echoes faintly.

Natasha just looks murderous.

“Third,” Steve adds.

“Hello,” Coulson says. “Excuse me for interrupting, I have news for all of you about the future structure of this team.”

He waves a hand with the tablet.

“What the fuck is going on,” Clint says, voice slightly hysterical. “How the fuck. You were dead. I saw your body.”

“Are you a shape-shifting alien? Are we sure he’s not a shape-shifting alien?”

“You have received the instructions on your emails about the changes.” Coulson continues. Steve feels a little dizzy. “The main problem, however, is the housing. For the most effectiveness of the team, you should have a common headquarters. Preferably, live near each other. Mr. Stark, if your offer to allocate several floors of your Tower to it is still on the table, this conversation is finished.”

He pauses and waits for a nod from Tony.

(Floors of the Tower?...)

“Great. Any more questions?”

They’re all silent. It’s the shock.

“All right. Then the meeting adjourned,” Coulson nods to Hill, who turns off the presentation.

They are still all staring. Steve feels like he has a concussion. He’s probably not the only one.

“It’s great to see you again,” Coulson says after a second. It’s quiet, soft, with more emotion than he let on before.

It’s a mix of a greeting, an apology, and a dismissal. Then he leaves.

Later Steve’s at VA — Sam needed some brawn to help carry around furniture — and he’s still reeling with shock. Sam finished telling him all his job-related anecdotes and now looks at him with suspicion. It’s justified: Steve usually talks more. Recently, since Sam is okay with talking about his feelings for Tony, Steve talks a lot.

Now, well, now it’s harder. A person I knew and admired was thought to be murdered by an insane alien, which was a pivotal moment for me and other people starting a superhero team, and today we found out he’s alive.

Way too complicated.

In the end, Steve just says there have been big changes at work, and that he will soon move to a place that’s being organized for them — to live around each other.

“Does this living with each other thing include your crush?” Sam asks immediately, astute as always.

“Yes,” Steve admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it’s not really— it’s just the same building.”

“Oh no, don’t give me that. You’re gonna be roommates,” Sam sing-songs, obnoxious.

Steve swears at him.

He repeats the word afterward, alone: roommates. Says aloud, trying it out: they’re going to be roommates. It sounds pretty happy to him.

Also: really fucking nervous.

The living arrangements are these: Tony made them apartments in the Tower. Everyone gets a floor.

(A literal fucking floor, Steve’s so not okay with this.)

Moving is a process. Tony gets them all to come together so he can show them around at once. He doesn’t explain beforehand why, so both Steve and Clint show up in uniform (they look ridiculous). Several floors (several fucking floors) are common: gym, kitchen, all the strange equipment (Steve’s pretty good at SHIELD-level tech, not Tony-level tech). Up from that come the personal ones. Tony herds them into the elevator and kicks out one person on each floor. The last one is Steve’s. Tony walks out with him.

Steve is being so normal about it.

It takes him a second to distract himself from thoughts of Tony and actually look around. He stops.

“Is that...” Steve knows these things.

An old radio Bucky found and fixed to bring it home. A stack of journals, old snd battered and familiar. The bag that contained clothes too small to fit him the last time he saw it. Oh. His mother’s photograph.

”Tony,” he says, strangled.

“Uh, yeah. That, I think, is everything yours that was stolen by the government. They were very annoyed about giving it back, mind you. But honestly, what are they — the British museum?”

”Thank you.” Steve thinks he is going to cry right here.

Tony looks very uncomfortable and avoids Steve’s eyes. Fuck, of course, he does — Steve is on the verge of — Steve needs to calm down.

“Eh. Wasn’t a hardship. I needed to have something here, considering I barely made anything for you.”

Only then Steve’s attention, so thoroughly zeroed on his things, widens: the rest of the room is half-empty.

“There’s a gym fitted for your needs, the kitchen is fully stocked, bathroom, etcetera, but I need your input for the actual living space. Draw something you like, show JARVIS, and it will be done.” Tony points to a red light on the ceiling, probably meaning a camera, then turns and finally looks at Steve.

Steve feels a little light-headed under the full weight of his attention.

“Didn’t know what you’d like best.”

It’s said like a concession. A suggestion to move forward, to advance: Tony Stark showing he didn’t know something. Showing vulnerability with a smile. A clear step toward.

“Am I a hard man to understand?” Steve answers with a similar smile on his face. Trying to match Tony’s move. “Everyone seems to know more about my life than I.”

“Captain America — maybe not so hard. But that,” Tony waves at the room, “is the place for Steve Rogers. Him, I don’t know yet.”

If Steve hasn’t been in love before.

It’s a little bit awkward after that. Mostly because Steve’s touched about his things, part of his life, and the yearning for Tony inside of him grows and grows and becomes too much, and he can’t do anything but stare at the man’s face wordlessly and try not to cry. It’s ridiculous. Tony fidgets under his eyes.

He probably waits for the moment to go. He doesn’t want to spend time with Steve.

But he gave me this, Steve thinks. It has to mean something. And he doesn’t want to let go yet, wants to bask in Tony’s presence some more, to look at him here, so close, with defenses brought down. He wears a simple T-shirt and ratty jeans, so unlike those pristine suits he wears at his interviews (that Steve spends a normal amount of time watching). Tony looks approachable, for once. Steve doesn’t want to lose it.

But he doesn’t know what to do to make Tony stay.

“Alright,” Tony says at last, a crooked smile on his face, “that’s more or less it. Ask JARVIS for anything you might need. And, oh, come here—”

Suddenly Tony is so close, and his arm is around Steve’s shoulders, and there’s a sound of a camera clicking.

“Great. Very patriotic. I would ask for an autograph, but I don’t have a pen with me. Send it to Coulson, J, make him know we’re all happy roomies now.”

“Me too, um, JARVIS.”

Tony lifts his eyebrow at that, but doesn’t say anything, waves his hand in goodbye, and goes away.

Steve needs to lie down for a while.

Steve goes to Sam’s place the same day. They were planning to catch a movie.

(Looking at his schedule, Steve begins to realize he doesn’t have many friends.)

Steve barges in with a huge smile on his face.

“Sam,” he says with feeling, “Sam, he doesn’t hate me.”

“Uh-huh. Told you so. How’s being roommates going?”

“It’s great. I guess. Don’t know, haven’t really moved in yet. But Sam. He found my lost things. He made me an apartment. He thinks— he took a selfie with me, look! He was so close, and he smelled so nice, it's the best day of my life.”

Steve shows Sam the picture, then faceplants on his couch. He’s overcome.

Sam doesn’t say anything for a while, which is pretty weird for him. Steve doesn’t care.

“It was so great.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s so amazing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you think it means something that he showed only me my place? Not anybody from the others?”

“Sure.”

Sam’s voice sounds farther away. Steve stands up and follows him to the kitchen.

Sam has a glass on the table, and he’s pouring pure vodka in it. It’s 5pm. His face shows great focus.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Great. Peachy.”

His voice sounds a little off.

“Are you sure?”

“Just currently rethinking all the choices I’ve made in my life. Especially concerning choosing childhood idols. Nothing serious.”

Steve stares at him.

What.

“Are you—?”

“It’s fine, Steve,” Sam continues in a normal voice. “I just wanted a drink. Go on.”

He still looks a bit disturbed, but clearly doesn’t want to discuss it more. Steve lets him drop it.

He goes on.

Sam quickly returns to his normal state, so Steve doesn’t worry about it.

In a while, though, when Steve has a little break in his gushing-about-Tony, Sam makes an awkward face and says:

“Look, Steve, can I say something?”

He sounds uneasy. Steve nods.

“It’s just — I fully support you, and your love life is very amusing, I mean it, it’s basically your regular soap opera, only with more twists. But sometimes it’s just — I’m not your therapist, okay? And I say that in the most loving way possible. I just don’t have the strength to be a good listener sometimes. And maybe, you know, let’s talk about my love life sometimes, or I’m starting to feel like one black guy in a rom-com.”

Steve’s immediately horrified. He spends the rest of the evening ashamed and apologetic. But they talk about it, and Sam’s very right to begin this talk. They agree to communicate better. They watch a movie they were planning to.

Steve asks about Sam’s love life, but it hasn’t changed since Sam’s last date, which Steve remembers the horrifying story of, but Sam talks more about the fear of opening up to the new people and not meeting anyone new. Steve listens.

(Steve also strategizes. But doesn’t say anything yet.)

It’s a good evening, still, a great day. For the following week Steve stops himself from venting to Sam about anything and gets an exasperated text about it after.

In the end, they find their balance.

Steve moves to the Tower.

He finds out — to his own surprise — that he likes the new apartment, even if it feels too big sometimes. It’s so much better than the SHIELD’s one.

He works. He makes friends with JARVIS. He sees the others, sometimes. Life finds its routine.

There’s Bruce making coffee and offering to share. There’s Clint, inexplicably jumping from the ceiling vent.

There’s Natasha, who shows up at the common kitchen at weird times, and sometimes knocks at Steve’s door and spends time on his floor.

She still holds herself close to the chest, but Steve calls them friends now. She doesn’t try to set him up anymore. It may be connected to the fact that the last time she did it, he said only if you agree to go out with my friend.

Steve thinks she agreed mostly out of surprise. Or curiosity.

He asked Sam later that night, more seriously, of course, and told him he has this great friend, that they could find some common interests, get on well, and it doesn’t have to be romantic.

They’re dating now. Sam doesn’t shut up about her.

Steve fucking won this matchmaking thing.

And, of course, there’s Tony. Steve almost got used to his presence, or so he says himself.

He’s still nervous around the man sometimes. Clammy hands, fast heartbeat. It’s ridiculous. But also pretty great.

There are nights like this. Steve can’t sleep — sleep problems are something everyone in this Tower has in spades — and he reads, lying on the couch of the common floor. He tends to gravitate here whenever he feels too lonely, to the place where his teammates spend more time, where he feels the connection to him. Tony appears at the doorstep. He looks tired, but slightly manic.

“Hey,” Steve calls out quietly, something about the night not letting him speak in full voice. “can’t sleep?”

Tony jumps as if he hasn’t noticed him before.

“Cap. Hi. Yep, no sleep for the wicked. You too?”

Steve nods. Waves for Tony to sit with him, and he complies, which is a gift in itself.

They’re silent and tired, not used to conversations away from the field.

“How’s the book?”

“Eh. Pretty boring.”

“But you’re still reading it.”

“Thought it could lull me to sleep.”

They both laugh at it. Then it’s silence again, but less awkward, now.

It’s strange, Steve ponders, the reason for them to lack a conversation topic is that all is well. It’s unfamiliar. Pleasantly so.

They talk about SHIELD’s latest idiosyncrasies, Clint’s hijinks, and the mean curry Bruce made last week and shared with everybody.

“A perfect roommates experience,” Tony snorts. “Are we to have a cooking schedule? Friday movie nights? God, it’s been a while for me. I graduated — what, twenty years ago? More, actually.”

“Not sure I’d trust you with the cooking. I can see you blowing up everything.”

“You wound me, Spangles. Cooking is just chemistry, I’m great at it. And all my explosions are deliberate.”

“It’s settled then, you’re on kitchen duty for the movie night,” Steve says in his team leader voice, then can’t stop himself and smirks at Tony’s dumbfounded expression.

It’s great.

At some point, Tony has Steve reminiscing about his childhood, even — something he tries not to do, as a rule. But it’s different, now. The pain’s not too loud, and he smiles, telling a particularly ridiculous story about him, a yard dog, and an angry baker left without his meat pie.

“I wanted to bring her home, you know. So much. I was nine, I think, the perfect time for dragging every cute animal home. But I had an allergy, and my ma’d never let me. Even if I wasn’t allergic — another mouth was hard to feed. It did well, though. The dog. I’ve seen it around the place years later. People were kind, everyone in our neighborhood was. Looked for each other. For the dog, too.”

Tony’s answering smile looks bittersweet. Steve feels like his is too, as well.

“Did you have a pet as a kid?” He asks.

“A robot one,” Tony says, and of course he did. But he doesn’t elaborate.

There’s no robot pet of any kind living with them now. Steve feels like it wouldn’t be by Tony’s own decision.

They almost fall asleep like that, on the couch.

Steve spends the next day with the widest smile on his face.

Three days later Steve comes home after his morning run, and Tony’s sitting in his living room with a dog on his lap.

Steve stops. The back of his brain says that he looks laughable in his sweaty t-shirt and shorts, but the insecurities are silenced by the main thought: dog!

A real, alive dog. In his living room. Looking at him, its tails moving.

Steve stares at the dog. The dog stares at Steve. Tony also stares at Steve, but somewhere below the head (does he have dirt on his shirt?).

The dog is the first one to break the silence.

“What?” Steve asks after it barks.

“I brought you a dog?” Somehow it sounds like a question.

“You brought me a dog.”

“Yep. From the dog shelter. She’s very nice, they say, and trained, although she has anxiety.”

Steve keeps looking at the dog. She seems glad to meet him, not anxious, or at least not visible.

Holy fuck, Tony got him a dog.

“I feel like I have to point out,” Steve begins slowly, “that when I mentioned the other night that I liked dogs, and wanted one as a kid, I didn’t mean— that I wanted you to get one.”

Tony starts to look sad, and Steve curses himself. Backtrack!

“I love the dog!” He adds hastily. “Don’t get me wrong, the dog’s amazing. But. Please don’t get me anything I ever happen to mention?”

Tony snorts, schools his face, and nods solemnly.

“I can’t promise you anything, but I will try.”

After giving him all the details on the dog — her name’s Daisy, she needs special food and meds and walks — Tony tries to shuffle toward the exit.

“Wait,” Steve says, an opportunity arising in his mind. “We’re roommates, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you got me a dog.”

“True, yes.”

“And we’re co-leaders of the team, and you’re technically the landlord—”

“What are you saying?”

“That means Daisy’s our dog.”

“Um, Steve—”

“Oh no, you don’t get to get out of it after bringing me her without a warning. And look at her! You wouldn’t leave her in an incomplete family, would you? Daisy needs both her dads.”

Both Steve and Daisy make puppy eyes at Tony. Steve sees the moment when he breaks.

“Fine, but—”

“See you at the dog park tomorrow!”

The dog park is great. They got one not far from the Tower, so it’s convenient. Daisy loves it.

The first few days leave a trail of paparazzi photos — Steve looking happy, Daisy cautious, Tony uncomfortable. After that they seek more secluded spots in the park, come at odder times — to help Daisy feel more at peace. At least they both have a horrible enough sleep schedule for it not to be a hardship.

Daisy falls into the routine pretty soon. Tony — not so much. He looks like he wants to be somewhere far, far away in the first two weeks — even though when Steve asks if he’s good with coming with them, he frowns and says he won’t miss it for the world.

After these weeks he makes a 180. Daisy gets a new collar and leash, insane robot toys, a playroom, and several clothes that are both perfectly safe for a dog and can probably withstand a bullet. Tony himself suddenly throws himself into playing. It’s amazing to see him like that. He smiles more, at Daisy, at the world, at other dogs.

At Steve.

It’s a happy smile, a real one, a bit crooked and mischievous and beautiful, and Steve’s heart aches looking at it. It’s a privilege to be looked at like that.

Sometimes Steve feels like he’s living on borrowed time, has these moments of happiness, bliss, Tony. Undeserving and precious. But sometimes, sometimes, when Tony grins at him while petting Daisy, both of them playful and full of joy, Steve feels hope.

Recently, the latter starts to win.

Natasha’s lying on Steve’s couch, snuggling with Daisy. She looks effortlessly elegant for someone who just traded kisses with a dog. Steve doesn’t know when she got here.

“You should ask him out,” she says out of the blue.

Steve chokes.

Out of surprise to hear her voice behind him, not the words — that’s nothing new. Natasha is dating Sam, of course, and since Sam is Steve’s number one go-to about all things connected to Tony, it was hard to keep it from her.

Natasha’s insistence to see Steve happy in a relationship came back, enlarged, since then. But now, instead of trying to find a partner for him, she pokes him unexpectedly and says stuff like that. Like a matchmaking ghost in a horror movie.

(Steve’s pretty sure Natasha mostly does it to get back at him for successfully setting her up on the first try. Sam says that they are weird fucking people, and he’s worried about the safety of the world.)

“Go away,” he tells Natasha.

She pokes him again. Daisy sees an unknown game and imitates Nat by jumping on Steve’s leg.

“I just need a perfect moment,” Steve whines at them after a while, when it becomes clear the two of them have more patience than he does. “What am I supposed to do, barge in the workshop and say Tony, want to go out with me?”

He’s coming around to the fact that he’s doing it in general. It’s just. It’s scary, still. And too important.

“Great plan, let’s go with it,” Natasha says and kicks him out of his own apartment.

“You’re bullying me!” Steve yells at the closing door.

“I know!”

Well. Nat doesn’t seem like she wants to let him back. He goes to the workshop. Maybe Tony isn’t there.

Tony is inside. Tony turns around, noticing Steve, and grins at him. Steve automatically grins back. Then stops.

Tony’s wearing a tank top.

Steve doesn’t say anything.

Natasha throws a dog toy in his face.

“Why the fuck didn’t you do it?”

Steve hides his heated face in his hands.

“Biceps,” he says with feeling.

Natasha calls him a useless dumbass. She may be right.

Tony wanders into Steve's living room when Steve and Sam are playing Mario Kart.

It’s a little bit embarrassing. Steve hurries to get up (and subsequently loses, to Sam’s unholy glee) and manages to introduce them. They make awkward three-way conversation until Daisy comes to say hello to Tony. Tony bends to her level and scratches her head, telling her soft endearments. Steve tells himself he isn’t jealous of his dog. Sam looks at Steve with a smirk that says he knows exactly what Steve’s thinking.

Tony stands back up, oblivious to their hijinks.

“Right. Well, that was my daily dog time. I probably should go. Leave you kids to your own... thing. Nice to meet your, uh, friend here, Cap.”

He sounds weird. Uneasy. His face is unreadable, no matter the smile, and his eyes are focused on Daisy, who lies down at Sam’s feet.

Steve is about to ask him what’s wrong, but Sam gets ahead of him.

“I’m dating Nat, by the way. And I’m straight.” Steve looks at him with surprise — what the fuck is this about. Does he want Steve to come out or something? “Just providing the information. Also, speaking of my girlfriend, I need to go see her. We had plans— hey, Steve, don’t you get that thing you wanted to ask Tony? The one you and Nat were talking about.”

All those times when Steve thought Sam was a great friend? Lies. He’s going to strangle him.

And he and Nat didn’t have any plans. Bastard.

But before Steve can kill Sam with his eyes, he goes away. At least Tony looks more cheerful, and even says his goodbyes in a much more sincere voice, telling Sam to relay something to Natasha.

“So, what was it?”

“Hm?”

“The thing you wanted to ask me?”

Oh. Steve freezes.

It’s not a perfect moment by far. It’s not romantic, it’s daylight, Daisy makes ridiculous noises in the background, and Steve doesn’t look in the least presentable (it’s not that important, he knows, but there’s still this idea in his head, this image of how it should be: a nice suit, flowers, perfect manners). But. He looks at Tony, and Tony looks back, open and at ease and here. It doesn’t matter.

And Steve’s not a coward. He’s not going to lose his chance.

“Do you want to have dinner sometime?”

(It comes out so sure. Soft, but confident. Steve’s surprised at himself.)

“Oh. Okay. Do you mean like a, a team thing or—?”

“I mean as a date. A romantic one.”

The moment stops. It’s nerve-wracking, but also calm. Steve doesn’t freak out. He knows in his heart that even if Tony doesn’t— even if it’s a no, they’re going to be alright in the end. His heart doesn’t believe Tony can ever truly hurt him.

He watches as Tony’s eyes widen, and he’s — he didn’t expect that, sure. But it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

“Um,” Tony says, and fidgets, and oh. He’s flustered. Steve’s heart starts beating faster. “Okay. Um. Yes. Let’s do this. Sure.”

“Friday?”

“Uh-huh. Friday’s great. After seven?”

Steve nods. He grins so hard his cheeks hurt.

Tony nods too, and he still looks like he’s not sure what’s happening, eyes wide and astounded and beautiful. But he smiles back. It’s a bit shy. Steve’s in love, in love, in love.

After Tony’s gone he has to lie down for a while. He sends a text to a group chat with Sam and Nat, telling them the news. They sent a lot of emojis back. It’s ridiculous how happy he is.

Their first date’s a little awkward. The knowledge of it being a date hangs over their heads, making them both unsure of how to proceed.

They meet at the Tower, of course, what with the both of them already living here, and the ride to the restaurant is silent and giddy. Steve steals little glances at Tony, who’s wearing a very him combo of jeans, a t-shirt and a suit jacket. The jeans are very fitting. Steve blushes thinking about it.

(Steve himself spent a better part of his day suffering in front of the mirror with Natasha mercilessly bullying him. Her efforts are not for nothing, though: he thinks he looks alright.)

Happy — he’s driving — kicks them out at the restaurant door and tells them have fun, kids in an obnoxious voice, to which Tony protests, but Steve just laughs, and it’s a start of a conversation. It runs more or less smoothly from that moment on, after they remember that they are friends, too, and actually enjoy talking to each other. There are some bumps in this smoothness, of course, attached to their new status, but they’re mostly enjoyable.

While Tony shares some SI anecdotes, lively and hilarious, Steve can only think how beautiful he is, so engrossed in the story, and he realizes, suddenly, that he can actually say that aloud. So he does.

Tony drops his fork and loses his train of thought, then sits there for a second, staring at Steve with a see what you did expression, but comes back at him without abandon, making Steve blush so hard he wants to hide under the table. He doesn’t hide, but he does keep silent for a while, overwhelmed, hands covering his very red face.

“Steve? I’m sorry, was that too much?” Tony does sound genuinely sorry.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. You’re just so— give me a second,” Steve takes a breath. “That’s why it was so intimidating to ask you out, you know. You, with your... verbal bondage thing.””

“Verbal— oh my god, Steve. How the fuck do you even know this phrase?”

“Oh, it’s this site — urban dictionary!” Steve perks up, embarrassment forgotten in the face of a more comfortable topic. “Such a great resource, all the modern slang I didn’t know. Really helpful. Especially with all the sex stuff.”

“Wow.”

“I’m not that comfortable with the concept, I think — outside of joking. Of verbal bondage, I mean. It’s complicated, and sounds too close to manipulation... very different from the usual type of bondage — so much more straightforward. And the whole concept of a safeword? It’s great. Just — it’s wonderful, how people try so seriously to mind the boundaries, consent, be more ethical, you know?”

“Uh-huh. No, yes, I agree with you, I’m just still processing your whole— saying those words in that order.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, Rogers, you’re the one casually bringing bondage in conversation. And you say the compliments are too much.”

“Just because I lost a battle doesn’t mean I’m not winning the war,” Steve says, Tony laughs, surprised, and it’s on.

Competitive flirting is not your typical first date activity, maybe, but it’s very them. And it’s great.

They walk back home. It’s already dark, quiet and warm. Tony’s hand finds Steve’s, and they lock up until the Tower. Steve walks Tony to his floor — he is a gentleman, after all, and it’s just manners, which he tells Tony in his best serious voice.

“And here I thought you were aiming for a goodnight kiss,” Tony teases in answer.

“Those are not mutually exclusive.”

Tony snorts but then reaches for him. His hand finds itself on Steve’s face, and he’s so close. Steve’s brain captures the moment, never to forget. The kiss is short and chaste and tender, but Steve has to stand there, afterward, eyes closed, for a second to come back to himself. When he opens his eyes, Tony smiles, wide and happy and like everything’s right with the world.

Hours later Steve can’t fall asleep.

It’s nothing new, but today instead of worries and loneliness his mind focuses on the memories of the evening. He’s still giddy, happy. It’s a good change.

After a while he gives up and wanders to the common floor — a place for the sleepless, a trove of good memories. He threads silently but stops at the doorstep as he sees Tony on the couch with a tablet in hand.

“Hey there,” Tony lifts up his head, “can’t sleep, huh?”

Steve hums his yes and sits near him.

“What’s keeping you up?”

He loves this version of Tony: relaxed, homey, voice tender and the look so soft when he asks his question.

“Pent up energy, I think. It’s been an eventful day.”

“In a good way, I hope?”

“The best. Had a great date.”

Tony smiles.

“Me too.”

It’s easier, feels more right like that. Together.

The next day Steve comes to Tony’s office to give him a giant bouquet of flowers. They are red and gold. Steve saw them at the flower booth by accident and couldn’t help himself. Tony stares at him for a second, at the flowers, dumbfounded, then yanks them from Steve’s hand and tells him to go away, because he’s a serious businessman and has work to do.

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies. “See you in the dog park this evening.”

Pepper snickers at them in the background.

When Steve leaves, he hears — superhearing — how behind the closed door Tony says:

“He can’t do that. That’s not allowed. Seriously. Stop laughing. I can’t deal with it. This is unfair,” but he sounds like he grins all the same, so Steve doesn’t worry about it.

In yet another SHIELD press conference, Steve and Natasha at its front, decked in uniform, a rather unpleasant-looking reporter asks Captain America about his previous statement that can be read as the support of transgender privilege.

“I don’t know how else it can be read as,” Steve answers. “And since when are we calling basic human rights a privilege?”

The reporter scoffs. He produces some ridiculous hateful rhetoric that he finishes, cheeky, with the question “Would you sleep with a so-called woman if she had a dick, Captain?”.

Steve looks at him for a while, feeling oh so tired of this bullshit.

“Your silence is an answer in its—” the reporter starts.

“My silence is contributed by the fact that it’s an incredibly stupid question,” Steve says. The room grows silent as a graveyard. “But if you insist. I do not, in fact, choose my romantic partners by the look of their genitals. And, hypothetically, were I to have romantic for a woman who happened to be not cis, I wouldn’t mind. However, practically I am in a committed relationship at the moment that I don’t see ending, so your question isn’t relevant here. I also have no desire to disclose what’s in my boyfriend’s pants.”

There’s silence. Then:

”He would, though,” Natasha says in her mildly amused voice.

“Yes, he has no qualms about taking his clothes off to make a statement,” Steve grins. “I love him so much.”

That last bit is said with a decidedly Steve Rogers voice, not Captain America one, happy and giddy and awkward.

The room breaks. Natasha declares the event to be over, not even trying to placate the crowd. She looks very proud of Steve.

At home, Tony greets him with a hug and a kiss.

“Besmirching my honor on live TV. Am I a bad influence on you, darling?”

“You’re proud of me, really,” Steve tells him, unrepentant.

It gets him another kiss.

They turn off the news and social media for the evening, all the speculation and gossip and uproar banned from their little world. Daisy, so grown already, falls asleep on both their laps.

#stony #stevetony #tony stark #steve rogers #my fic #writing #fanfic #mine #pining #humor #2012 tower fic #sam wilson #natasha romanova #stb bingo #let steve rogers say fuck transphobes 2k12

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loverdotpng · 3 years

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How come the anniversary event is just traumatizing MC on repeat khvdtxvgjtdx,,,,,,,,,,

#The guys outside of the event are very happy about it . but shit has just been hitting the fan over and over again #I guess that one with Kiro was.. fine.#I mean things were burning and shit but he was okay and so was MC. other than her having no clue what was happening #and the explosions being really loud.#Technically nothing bad ever happened with Shaw. BUT.#The future image she got sounds so awful????? I'd probably have a panic attack seeing that??#And what is she supposed to do? Get off and leave the driver? Make him stop entirely?#What is she supposed to say to Shaw??????? How does she explain to them that something bad will happen without seeming just super paranoid??#.txt #Phoenix.txt #many thoughts.#Y'know Victor being unable to use his powers adds on to the idea that the ''culprit'' is someone MC knows well #Not to mention she said they sounded familiar.#My two guesses are Lucien or Kiro.#Kiro does pretty good with faking his voice.#But Lucien had once mentioned wanting to ''study''/learn more about people with evols #I'm really not sure who it is. I wish it wasn't either of them but..#I'm reading really deep into this game I don't think I was supposed to but I can't help it #Like in one of the city stroll events with Lucien he seems pretty upset until MC spoke to him #My guess is that one of .. them (idk who they are.. bad guys ig) had just finished speaking with him #He got pretty defensive about his feelings involving MC. I'm sure he's rlly worried about putting their lives in danger (more than it #already is) Like.. If he told MC what was happening and they found out? They could /both/ be targeted/killed #No wonder he's so upset about the entire this. No matter what he does nothing really seems like a ''good'' or ''better'' outcome #What is he supposed to do?? He wants to and will protect MC but if they suddenly label him as a ''traitor''#Things will become so much harder.#🎤#🌠#📘

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: when you come down to visit your boyfriend, bucky barnes, at the wilson residence and see his interaction with sam’s nephews firsthand- you can’t help but entertain the idea of having a family of your own with the super soldier.

a/n: here’s some short and sweet fluff prior to the season finale! reblogs and/or replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of starting a family? it’s pure fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

“Hey sleepyhead.” You hummed, running your fingers through your boyfriend’s hair.

At the sound of your voice and the gentle touch of your fingers slipping through his hair and brushing against his skin ever so slightly, Bucky opened his eyes to bet met with your figure sitting at his side, staring down at him.

No matter how many times he woke up to see you first thing in the morning with the sunlight highlighting your features, he would swear he was in heaven- utterly consumed with the feeling of pure bliss.

“Hi, doll.” He smiled, his voice still raspy.

At the feeling of his hands moving to lay on either side of your waist you smiled. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, realizing that you had come all the way down to the Wilson’s home when the last place Bucky had left you before going on his mission with Sam was at your shared apartment in New York.

“I missed you.” You shrugged.

“I told you I was coming home today, Y/n.”

“I know, Buck.” You said, now laying your palm against his cheek. “But I heard about everything that happened and I couldn’t wait another day to see you.”

Looking up at you and leaning into your palm that was cupping his cheek, Bucky couldn’t believe how he ever got so lucky as to have you.

Breaking him out of his moment spent admiring you, he heard the sound of Sam’s nephews running into the room, and turned his head only to see them playing with the famous vibranium shield in their hands.

“Hey!” He exclaimed.

Immediately upon being caught by the super soldier, the boys dropped the shield onto the ground, scurrying out of the room, no doubt scared about getting caught with their uncle’s prized possession.

“Look at you babysitting.” You laughed, playfully swatting at your boyfriend’s chest.

Bucky caught your hand midair and scoffed. “I’m not babysitting... it’s just... dangerous... you know?”

“Sure,” You smiled. “Whatever you say, tough guy.”

Grasping the dog tags that were lying on his chest, you gently tugged on the chain and brought his face inches away from yours. Seeing his sleepy, smiling face- you brought your lips to meet his for a soft kiss before pulling away.

“One more?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows.

“Go brush your teeth first.” You laughed, watching as he threw you a fake pout. “Then I’ll see what I can do.”

Although the two of you spent the remainder of the day apart- Bucky training with Sam and you helping Sarah with things she needed done around the property- you came together again on the docks that evening while the Sun began to set over the horizon.

Carrying a crate in your hands that you had assured Sarah wasn’t too heavy for you, you made your way near the boat again, laying your eyes on your super soldier boyfriend for the first time since that morning.

You swear your heart could’ve burst right in your chest, taking in the sight in front of you.

Bucky was stood at the end of the dock, one hand on his knee while he chatted with Sam and his sister beside him. His other arm- his vibranium one- was stretched out and you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face as you witnessed Sam’s nephews and other children you hadn’t seen before hanging off of it, laughing to one another in awe about how “cool” his arm was.

With the golden hue of the sunset setting over your boyfriend’s features, you wished you had a camera on you so you could never forget the moment. You could’ve sworn you would’ve stood there for eternity staring if it weren’t for Bucky catching your eye, waving back at you smiling.

Although you couldn’t hear him, you watched as he said something to the kids, gently shaking them off of his arm, before striding over to you.

“Here, let me take that.” He offered, taking the crate from your arms and setting it down on the dock.

Watching as he did so, your mind was still utterly consumed with the image you had just seen in front of you.

“So kids really seem to like you, huh?” You asked.

“What?” He asked, before remembering what he had just been up to. “Oh that?” Bucky asked gesturing back towards where the kids were playing at the end of the dock. “No... they just like the arm, you know?”

As much as you loved your boyfriend, you knew that he was completely naive when it came to the positive effects he had on people.

“Buck...” You cooed, reaching for his hands and pulling his body closer to yours. “When are you going to realize that people like you for you? They think you’re cool! Sure, the metal arm helps, but just admit it babe- kids like you.”

Resting his hands on your waist, you watched as a teasing smirk formed on his face.

“Why are you so obsessed with how kids act around me today?”

As soon as he asked, you began to feel flustered by him not only noticing, but calling you out on it. You hadn't realized you were being so obvious, but you could barely help yourself. Seeing your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, surrounded by kids? You couldn’t help but think of him surrounded by children of your own. All you could think about all day when not engaged in an active conversation with those around you was entertaining the idea of starting a family with your favorite 106 year-old man.

“I’m not!” You exclaimed, playfully swatting at his chest. “Why are you so obsessed with me being obsessed about you with kids? Hmm? Wanna answer that old man?”

Watching as you laughed while teasing him, Bucky couldn’t help but get lost in the moment.

“Buck-” You began.

“You know you look so beautiful right now?” He cut you off.

You bit your bottom lip to try to hide the large smile that was creeping over your face at his compliment. No matter how long the two of you had been together, or how many times he complimented you, he always knew how to make you feel the same butterflies you did the first time you met him.

“Especially with the sunset? You look beautiful all the time, doll, but... wow.” He said.

“Bucky, stop flattering me.” You insisted, running your hands up his chest before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

“I mean it, Y/n.” He said. “You’re the best looking thing on this damn planet.”

Utterly consumed in the moment, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Me?” You asked. “Have you ever seen yourself? I swear I want our kids to look just like you.”

As soon as the sentence slipped out of your mouth, you regretted it. It came out so naturally you hadn’t even had time to think about it before you essentially just confessed to your boyfriend that you wanted to have children with him.

Although you and him had no doubt in your minds that you would spend the rest of your lives together, you understood that now might not have been the best time to bring up such a big life change with both of you only being thrown back into existence half a year ago and him being consumed in his work not only in saving the world, but in saving himself.

Embarrassed, you tried to weasel your way out of his grasp, but he only gripped his hands tighter on your waist pulling you towards him.

“What did you say?” He asked.

“I’m so sorry! Forget I said anything-” You pleaded.

“No, Y/n, stop. Stop apologizing.” He said. “Were you... were you talking about kids all day because you were thinking about... were you thinking about me being a dad?”

As you looked into his eyes, you could see how serious he was and you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“Yes.”

The two of you stood staring at each other in silence for a few moments and just as you were beginning to grow afraid that you might have ruined everything, you watched as your boyfriend began to chuckle, a light smile playing on his lips.

“What?” You asked. “What is it?”

“Thank God.”

Quirking your eyebrows you pressed again. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” He asked playfully, pulling on your waist to tug you closer towards him. “Do you think I haven’t been thinking the same thing all day?”

“What-”

“Y/n.” He said seriously, the smile leaving his face. “You’ve been taking care of Sam’s nephews all day. Do you think the thought hasn’t crossed my mind? I know... I know I’ve been through a lot... we’ve been through a lot... but I want this with you.”

You could feel your heart swell in your chest, listening to your boyfriend’s words.

“What are you saying, Buck?” You asked.

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He asked, smiling once again. “Okay. Today when I couldn’t tie the kid’s shoelaces because of my hand and you stepped in and did it for me I thought about how good of a mom you would be. You’d be such a good mom, Y/n. I’m a piece of work- I know that- but God you would be so good at it and if I have... you know... mini me’s running around I wouldn’t want anyone else because I know that they would be the most loved and cared for kids in the damn world having you as their mom.”

You once again couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you listened to your boyfriend’s praise. It wasn’t uncommon for bucky to worship the ground you walked on, but for him to give such a compliment regarding a future family of your own, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had been personally escorted to paradise.

Unable to find the words to describe the joy and excitement you were feeling, you spoke the only words you could find it in yourself to say to him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said.

“I want it all with you too, Buck.” You said, moving your hand to cup his cheeks, “And for the record- you would be a great dad. I know you put on the tough guy look for everyone else, but as the luckiest woman on the planet- I’ve seen the love you have in your heart. You would spoil those kids rotten with love.”

You watched as the very rare instance of blush coated Bucky’s cheeks. Still smiling- so much so it almost began to hurt- you pulled your boyfriend’s face towards yours, allowing your lips to meet his. Just as you were about to deepen the kiss however, you heard a loud whistle, sounding from behind Bucky.

Peeking behind Bucky, you saw Sam standing a few feet away, sleeves rolled up and hands on his hips.

“Hey!” Sam teased. “There’s kids here!”

“Thanks for ruining the moment, Sam.” Your boyfriend grumbled beside you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

You watched as Sam, laughing, took a swig of the beer in his hand, the sun setting behind him.

“I’m just messing with you, man.” He said. “Are you two staying tonight?”

The two of you glanced at one another, wordlessly communicating while smiling- both knowing what the other was thinking.

“I think...” You began. “I think we’re gonna start a family.”

When the words slipped out of your mouth, you and Bucky couldn't help but gaze at each other in awe of the situation. You were really going to do this. You were going to start a family with one another. You could hardly believe it, but you also couldn’t be happier than you were in that moment.

In front of the two of you, however, still stood Sam who spit out his beer at the sound of your words.

“Not on my sister’s couch you’re not!”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic

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stealforreal · 3 years

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Future kids - Todoroki Shoto I

Todoroki meets his children from the future. Part 2 is up now you can find it on my tumblr masters list. Or click [here]

Todoroki Shoto x F! Reader

Warnings: none

Todoroki was understandably confused. One moment he was eating his cold soba in peace and quiet, the next a little girl came barreling into him. Clinging onto his pant leg for dear life, tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. Todoroki tensed, even if he was coming out of his shell, dealing with a little child while not having complete control over his flames terrified him. What if he ended up hurting her, when he wanted to help? He refused to be like his father. hurting small children.

A small tug on his leg brought him out of his thoughts, and back to the reality that a young girl probably no older than 6 was clinging to him. He could feel his pants getting wetter by the minute, drenched in the redheaded little princess’ tears. Kneeling down to her height, he put a hand on her head and pattet it gently. It was the only form of comfort he could think of would be appropriate. “ Hey snowflake, where's your parents?” Todoroki asked the little girl, making her look up at the stranger whom she was clinging to. A small gasp escaped her lips, as she began to sob harder and cling to him even more if that was even possible. “ I-Im so so sorry daddy *sniff* I can’t find Ren” Todoroki stiffened. Daddy? He wasn’t a dad, not yet anyways. But that didn’t matter when he was comforting a young girl, so he would play along for the time being. Besides he felt drawn to the little snowflake, maybe it was the fact that she was comfortable enough to seek comfort from him. Maybe it was the fact that she looked like him, with beautiful heterochromia eyes, one classic Todoroki cerulean blue and one e/c.

“ Take a deep breath, little snowflake. Can you tell me what year it is?” His usual monotone tone, took on a softer note talking to the girl. He was kneeling at her height, rubbing small circles on her small back, while she clung to his shirt, sobbing in his chest. She looked up at him with her big mismatched doe eyes brimming with tears “ Its 20xx” okay weird that is 15 years in the future, Shoto wasn’t stupid this was probably the work of a quirk. He then proceeded to ask her if she was indeed hit by a quirk.

She told him that apparently her and her twin brother Ren, were playing with some of their friends at a park. But when they were playing tag one of their friends got their quirk, and the twins got separated. When Reina, as she told him her name was, woke up and couldn’t find her twin brother Ren she began to panic. Then she began looking for him, but then she recognized the dual colored hair and ran to him.

In between her telling the story and sniffling quitely, Shoto had picked her up. While she was calming down in his arms, he began making his way back to the campus grounds. Mr.Aizawa would hopefully know what to do, and maybe they would find Ren on the way. It broke his heart to hear her sniffle, his little snowflake crying was heart wrenching. Even if she technically wasn’t born yet, she was still his little snowflake and he would protect her no matter the cost. He was so possessive of his little girl already and he had only met her 1 hour ago, he promised himself then and there that he would be a better father than Endeavor ever was.

Her sniffles and sobs stopped, and her trembling figure relaxed in his hold. He could feel the little one's gaze on him, and he turned his head to her tilting his head a bit to ask what was wrong. “ Why do you look so young, daddy? '' She asked with the little innocent voice of an angel, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at her question. “ Well my little snowflake, right now I’m 16 and you haven’t exactly been born yet. I’m guessing your friend's quirk is something along the lines of time travel” he patiently explained to her, she nodded her head along as if she understood him. And if she inherited his intelligence, she just might have understood what he just told her completely.

The walk back to the dorms were filled with idle chatter, Shoto asking Reina about his future and how he was as a father. To which she exclaimed with a bright toothless smile ‘Daddys the best daddy in the whole world’ and he was so relieved that he wasn’t a horrible father like his own was to him. He ended up stopping for a minute so Shoto could pepper her with small soft kisses all over her cute slightly chubby cheeks. Her squeals of excitement warmed his heart, and a soft smile made its way on his face.

To onlookers they looked like a cute set of siblings, and small aw’s and so cute were heard in the background. But inside their little bubble, nothing could burst Shoto’s happiness at knowing he wouldn’t repeat his fathers mistakes. The long walk back to the dorms felt a lot shorter with his little snowflake talking his ear off. It was adorable really, she stumbled over a few words every once and awhile. She told him all about her and Ren’s adventures, how they accidentally froze their teacher when Ren got his quirk, and how he had to come and free the teacher.

Shoto was inexplicably happy that Ren got his quirk from his mothers side. But one thing caught his attention was the mention of their mother. He realized that Reina not once had mentioned her name, and as much as Shoto would hate to admit it he was beyond curious as to who he would ultimately spend his life with. A big part of him hoped that it was you, since he had finally found out what the fuzzy feeling he had around you was. Yep Todoroki Shoto was utterly and completely enamored by you, your personality was sweet and you would do anything for family and friends. Alongside Midoriya you were his best friend, and he was in love with you.

The closer to the dorms the two Todorokis came, the more his curiosity nagged him to ask his daughter who her mother was. When he could see the height alliance building a little longer down the road, his curiosity won. “ Snowflake, you never told me your mom's name. '' Reina brightened when he asked about his future wife, a big tell that his little girl adored her mother as much as she adored her father. '' Silly daddy, mom's name is Todoroki y/n of course, ``she said giggling. A bright smile adorned his handsome features as Todoroki stepped into the dorm's living room with Reina still in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

Class 1-A consecutively looked towards the door when it opened. They were trying to calm down the child that was crying on their sofa, who also happened to look suspiciously like their dual haired classmate. The young boy had dual colored hair and cerulean blue eyes, his hair was half white and half y/h/c. The child was obviously confused and scared, and had only stopped wailing when Kaminari short circuited. But alas he was still sobbing and the class was almost out of ideas. He had been asking about his parents, and calling for a person named Reina.

There in the door stood a smiling Todoroki, holy damn was the world ending. But what also caught their attention was the little redhead in his arms hugging him, the little girl's voice reached them and their jaws dropped. “ Daddy, is this the place you and mommy met?” It was such an innocent question, but 1-A was in a frenzy, so much so that they didn’t notice the little boy springing up from the couch and dashing toward Todoroki and the girl. They only came back to earth when a small happy “Daddy” was heard.

Todoroki was about to answer Reina’s question, when he heard the little cry “Daddy”. He turned his head towards the sound and so did Reina, she began bouncing in Shoto’s arms. “ Ren '' She shouted, making Shoto bend down and extend his arm that wasn’t holding Reina. Ren launched himself into Shoto’s chest, and Reina began hugging her twin brother as much as she could in their fathers embrace. “ Don’t worry my little snowflake, daddy’s got you” He whispered softly, calming Ren immediately. The rest of the class stood gobsmacked, daddy?

“Now my little snowflakes, let's go find Mr. Aizawa, so you can go home” Shoto’s arms were full, his little boy on one arm and his little girl on his other arm. How is he supposed to open the door? “ Midoriya, would you come with me to open the door?” Shoto’s tone was monotone as always, but slightly softer in the presence of his children. Midoriya simply nodded dumbfounded, nobody said a word. What were they supposed to say, with all the daddy claims, and seeing the children in the arms of their classmate confirmed it. They looked like the spitting image of the dreamy heterochromia boy, but with some tweaks. There were the y/h/c and the girls one e/c eye, that obviously must’ve come from their mothers side.

On the way to the teacher dormitories, the twins talked excitedly with each other, while Shoto explained the situation to Midoriya. Midoriya felt like he had seen the features on the twins that certainly didn’t come from Todoroki’s side, but with how much they looked like their father it was nearly mission impossible.

Coincidentally on her way to Mr. Aizawa as well, you spotted the tuft of green hair and tufts of red and white hair. Hm, must be on their way to Mr.Aizawa as well you thought. Jogging up to them, you poked Midoriya’s shoulder. Even if you were in class 1-B, you had a pretty good friendship with the cute green haired cinnamon roll. Your quirks were similar in a sense, since yours was a boost of strength as well. Not nearly as strong as Midoriya’s, but still. That is why you were training partners, and through him you had met his friend circle. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see Midoriya and Todoroki together.

But when they turned to you, you were left flabbergasted by the two cuties in Todoroki’s arms. Before the boys could react, Ren began squirming chanting ‘mommy’. Shoto sat him and Reina down, because she too began squirming once they caught sight of you. The two children that were previously in Todoroki’s arms, now tackled you in a hug. “Daddy look, we found mommy” they said in unison. Two children around 6 years old launching at you, could make even the best of them fall on their butts. Which was exactly what happened, they were squeezing you as tight as their small forms would allow.

Choosing to ignore the small ‘mommy and daddy’ comment, you carefully scooped them up in your arms. The look that Shoto gave you was enough to go along with this little charade, he looked at the three of you like you were his entire world. His eyes were shining with happiness, and his lips quirked up in a small smile. Lightly bouncing the ecstatic but sleepy children in your arms, you turned your attention to the two males before you. “ You wouldn’t happen to need Mr.Aizawa as well, would you?” You raised a knowing eyebrow. The two boys nodded, and you began walking again towards the teachers dormitory. You sent Todoroki a small pointed glare, silently commanding him to explain the situation.

The walk to the teachers lounge felt shorter than usual, since your attention was occupied. Todoroki explained his theory that a quirk sent the twins to the past, and that the two of you were their parents. As crazy as that sounded it made so much sense, and looking at the children you would lie if you said you didn’t see the resemblance. Midoriya explained how Ren was crying before Todoroki arrived, and how confused they were when they heard the little boy yelling ‘daddy’. Ren was probably the most scared, since he didn’t recognize anyone in his panicked state. Besides, most of the students probably look a lot different in the future, so it's kind of a miracle that the twins recognized you. Shoto will always be pretty easy to recognize, with his distinct hair, eyes and the showstopping scar. It complimented the handsome teen next to you so well, no wonder he was one of UAs top heartthrobs. Stopping for a second, you just realize something. If the twins in your arms are you and Todoroki's, then that means that you ended up scoring the half-n-half quirk user. Nothing could wipe the shiteating grin that made its way on your face, eliciting concerned and curious glances from the males beside you.

Mr.Aizawa had his fair share of strange situations. He had been teaching at UA for some time, and student’s quirks weren’t always a walk in the park. Never had he ended up in a situation quite like this though, he had to rub his eyes twice to make sure it was real. In front of him were 2 out of Class-1A’s trouble makers and one of his favorite students from Class-1B, they had two small children with them. Easily recognized as twins, and they looked like the half - n- half troublemakers children.

This was going to be a long night.

#mha #mha x reader #dad au #shoto todoroki #mha midoriya #mha todoroki #mha x y/n #dad todoroki #Twins #timetravel #quirks #Shoto is so cute #futurekids

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