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lyv-writes · 2 days

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OKAYY WE NEED DAD!SPENCER REID‼️

okay so Reader is going out for the day for like a little girls day with her best friends and says bye to Spencer and the cute little toddler! Buttt then the toddler starts missing reader and Spencer isn’t sure how to handle it at first, but then he gets the hang of it! <33

AAAA this is so cute omg thank u for this!!! i hope i was able to do it justice <33

spencer reid x mom!reader

words: 1,395

warnings: none really! just spencer being a good step-dad to your daughter, fluff, baby crying, that’s it!! :]

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

“Thanks again, Spence,” you say, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips before tugging your coat off the hook and making for the front door. “Remember, Lila is allergic to kiwi. And her bedtime is 8, no exceptions. She has to go to daycare tomorrow morning.”

You had spent the morning holding Lila, playing with her and soaking up her laughter as much as you could. Spencer knew you had never really been apart from her—going to work was one thing, but there was a guilt that came with taking the day for yourself. He watches with a fond smile as you ramble through the list that you had already repeated to him twice and does his best to reassure you, nodding along despite having already memorized it.

Pre-made food in the fridge.

Medical information on the fridge in case of emergencies.

Call if she gets too fussy.

“Oh!” You say, halfway out the door before turning back to Spencer, a smile gracing your face. “And don’t let her convince you to give her sweets after dinner. She’ll ask you for fruit snacks, all cute, then she won’t sleep and it will be hell in the morning.”

“No fruit snacks after dinner, got it,” Spencer said, following your line of sight to Lila sitting on her plush rug in the living room, toys surrounding her as she played. Your face softened, affection swimming in your eyes and he could practically hear the thoughts going through your head. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he gently guides your face back to meet his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, tone soft as your shoulders sag at the understanding behind his words. “You deserve to have a day with your friends. I think Lila can handle playing dolls with me for a few hours.”

His phrasing made you giggle, picturing Lila’s pouting face, wagging her little finger at Spencer when he takes something too literally, or doesn’t do it the way she wants. For some reason, Lila is never happy with the voices Spencer does, and after a year-and-a-half she still gets that same little pinched brow whenever Spencer holds a doll in his hand, high-pitched voice mimicking a princess’s until she yanks the toy out of his hand with a firm, yet cute, “No, ‘Penth.”

Without fail, hearing his name in her little voice makes his heart soar, pride filling his chest even if she’s scolding him, wagging her little finger as she says it. He’d always been hesitant at the idea of being a father, whenever he pictured his future that was always a blurry part, but now he couldn’t imagine not having you and Lila in his life.

Searching his face, you finally come to the conclusion that he’s being sincere and a bright smile covers your face. Spencer had come to terms a long time ago, far before the two of you were even dating, that he would do anything to make you smile. A sense of pride wells in his chest knowing that the smiles you give him are just for him, a special glint in your eyes every time.

Between work, and Lila, there was hardly any downtime to just relax. Your evenings were often spent wrangling Lila into bed, usually with Spencer if he’s not away for work. Spencer made it a point to be home in time to have dinner with both of you as much as he could, slowly getting involved in her night time routine. She was 6-months-old when you and Spencer began dating, and while it took some getting used to at first, Lila began reaching for Spencer with a giggle and a giddy squeeze soon enough.

When your friends suggested a girl’s spa-day, Spencer was quick to encourage you to go. Having a toddler made it hard to have a social life, especially when your friends weren’t moms themselves. Lila had warmed up quickly to Spencer, which was the biggest relief, and it was hard to find a reason to say no when Spencer offered to babysit.

“She’s gonna be my daughter,” Spencer said, a fond smile on his face as the two of you spoke conspiratorially in the kitchen. “I already think of her as mine, I’d be happy to watch her for the day.”

Your heart swelled hearing his words, and you couldn’t help but say yes when he put it like that. Spencer, you, and Lila being your own happy little family was all you could ever ask for, and it meant more than Spencer could ever know that he had been so welcoming and understanding. He was a dream.

With a final glance at Lila and a sigh, you’re pressing another unhurried kiss to Spencer’s lips, that same lil dazed smile on his face that he got after every kiss, even after nearly 2 years. “Thank you, Spence. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your forehead—you were gonna be gone all day, he had to get his fill while he could. “Now go before you miss your appointment.”

With a final kiss, Spencer watches as you walk down the front steps, drive away, waiting until he can't see your car anymore before he’s turning around and closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Lila is already looking at him, eyes glancing between the door and him before her small voice is heard over the cartoon playing on the tv.

“Mama?”

“Mama went to the store,” Spencer cooed, lowering himself down to sit on the floor in front of her and her array of toys. “She’s coming back, don’t worry.”

“Mama s’ore?” she whispered in her small voice, her wide eyes blinking slowly at him before her lip began to tremble. It broke his heart to see her eyes, which looked so much like yours, gloss over with tears.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Spencer said, scooping her up in his arms. “She’s coming back for you. She’ll be here soon!”

With a sharp wail for her mom, the tears that had been welling up began falling in big drops, hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she cried. Hurriedly, he began to bounce her in his arms, mimicking the way he had seen you do it countless times. He’s shushing her in a soft voice, whispering soothing words in the hopes that they’ll at least calm your crying.

Spencer wracks his brain, trying to sift through the information he had gleaned from the parenting books he had been reading for the past two years—he had started as soon as he came to the conclusion he would ask you out. Would showing her pictures of you work? He didn’t want to make things worse by making her miss you more, but maybe seeing your face would soothe her.

Transferring Lila to one hip, he fishes his phone from his pocket and opens the album of your photos, showing her various selfies, focusing on pictures he has of the two of you. After a couple of minutes her sobs quieted to sniffles and soon enough she was swiping through the pictures herself and giggling every time she saw your face.

With her swiping, it landed on a video, one he had taken of you reading a story to her before bed. At the time he had thought the voices you were using for the characters were so funny, hiding his own laughter behind his hand so that he could capture the sound of Lila’s giggles.

Spencer watches as she giggles along with herself, laughing at the way she reacts when you tickle her tummy. Spencer cant help the fond laugh the slips from his lips at the sight, bright grin tugging at his cheeks at your rosy smile.

When you arrive home that evening, only the kitchen light is on downstairs, the faint light from your bedroom guiding you as you softly push open the door. A warm smile paints your face as you slip your phone from your pocket, taking quite a few pictures of Lila, fast asleep atop Spencer’s chest, her favorite book lying next to his relaxed hand. His soft breaths rustle the hair at Lila’s scalp, her hand loosely gripping the edge of his sleeve as she sleeps.

Tip-toeing around the room, you shed your clothes from the day, slip on some pajamas before placing Spencer’s book on the nightstand. Slipping softly under the covers, you curl yourself around Spencer’s side, hand resting on Lila’s back as you fall asleep, comfortable with the people you love the most.

#theres a lot of firsts in this for me #but dad!spencer is so cute and sweet #thank you for this request!!!#my writing #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid x mom!reader #criminal minds #lyv answers!

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invisiblestringmm · 22 hours

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chapter four

i’ll tell you the truth but never goodbye

a/n: i hope this chapter makes you cry 😂

tw: there’s a bit of angst, and definitely lots of fluff. y/n struggling with being a single mum. mason being a gorgeous mf. lily being the cutest human, lots of lily appreciation too.

3.100k words

It didn’t come as a surprise to see Jaz keeping her promise to support you as best as she could - you got daily FaceTime calls, texts, and Instagram DMs. You got post-ballet dinners and ice cream, the four of you becoming closer each day - Lily and Summer were inseparable now, and you had Jaz not getting tired of telling you she felt like you’d become the sister she never had.

Not being able to control where your thoughts went, your mind made you question a few times how it would’ve been having this extra support when you were pregnant, and you asked yourself if you’d ever stop being hunted by the countless what-ifs of yours and Lily’s life. You had to stop and take a deep breath and just force yourself to focus on all the wonderful things that were happening now, and how much you wanted them to still be this way when it was time to tell Mason, and everyone else.

Despite having Jaz reassure you that things would end up well, Mason was pretty much unknown territory to you, emotionally speaking - yes, you gave birth to his “mini-me”, but that was no guarantee that you were able to predict him. Not knowing what to expect should’ve made you stay as far away as possible from him, but after you had a text message from Jaz sharing the big news that Mason would be at the ballet recital, while you watched your daughter roll her eyes in the delight as she devoured the pancakes and strawberries on her plate, you decided to reply to that message he had sent you weeks ago.

What you didn’t expect was for him to reply within less than a minute.

“Mummy, are you okay?” Lily had her eyebrows frowned at you, she curiously scanned your probably pale face as your heart pounded against your chest. A simple nod was enough for her to focus back on the pancakes, but also give you occasional and quick glares as your shaky hands tightly held the phone.

You barely had any appetite left as you felt your stomach dropping when Mason texted that - so, he wanted to see you. It wasn’t time yet, at least, it didn’t feel like it. But should the ballet recital be the best place to meet him? Would you be able to act surprised and sustain casualty at that meeting that’d be sort of arranged by his sister?

So many questions and insecurity surrounded you whenever Mason was on your mind, and having to look into Lily’s hazel eyes, her smile, and everything else on her that was his copy only made it worse for you - it was nearly suffocating, and you just needed a mother and daughter moment to focus on anyone but Lilian.

“Peanut,” you poked her tummy, making her giggle. “Why don’t we have a girl's afternoon today, huh? Museum, whatever you want for lunch and we can wrap it with skincare and Moana!”

Lily stood on the chair - your instinct making you hold her arm - and made her little celebration dance, still chewing the pancake, her dark brown soft curls bouncing. That vision completely took your breath away, you often couldn’t believe such a precious girl was your daughter.

Not that all of your days weren’t already hers, but dedicating a whole day off to Lily was your favourite thing to do. When she was just a baby, you often imagined how these days would be, with your little best friend and soulmate, on coffee dates and nights where you’d light up a scented candle and read her a book. The way your voice soothed her was Lily’s favourite thing, combined with your smell. It made her feel safe like nothing could ever harm her. In her dreams, her daddy joined the two of you - she couldn’t see his face but could feel the warmth of his hand holding hers and his laugh was the best sound in the world. Lily wondered if she’d ever meet him, the only thing she knew and was happy about was the fact that she looked like him, as you’ve told her countless times.

Careful not to lose Lily from your sight as she walked three steps in front of you, her eyes not sure what she wanted to focus her attention on at the museum, your mind went back to Mason’s last words to you that morning. So, he wanted to apologise for the way he treated you. Part of you felt good about it, that he had finally recognised what a complete twat he had been, but the other part of you just thought how that made no difference now - it was in the past. Not buried, since your past with him had taken the most angelic human form, but it wouldn’t change things. It was all about the future now.

For lunch, Lily insisted on spaghetti, her all-time favourite food. You had to persuade her a bit to eat a bit of protein too because pasta would make her feel hungry again by the afternoon, and you knew how much she hated being hungry right before taking a nap - your persuasion included the word dessert, so not much time was wasted trying to convince her to accept some chicken with her pasta.

Your phone buzzed with a real-time picture of Jaz and Summer by the time you had just bought a gorgeous bouquet of yellow roses, Lily’s favourite. She insisted that a good girls’ night would only be complete if you had fresh roses, that she wanted to carry herself. You quickly snapped a picture of her and sent it to Jaz, asking why they’d have to grow up so fast and that her niece was insufferable.

“Can you please behave like a child and not like an adult, Lilian Maisie?” like a little kid, you pouted, suddenly emotional to see so much wit and wisdom in your tiny human.

Lily giggled, “Mummy!” she held your hand, placing a soft kiss against it and walking according to your pace. “Can we go home now?” You nodded, quickly fetching an Uber to drive you home.

By the time you got there, she was already heavily sleeping in your arms as you clumsily also carried your purse and the flowers, and tried to open the door without troubling her sleep - if it was up to you, you’d find a way for mums to have an extra pair of arms, they’d definitely be useful in times like these.

You knew Lily wouldn’t sleep that much, so the sofa was where you put her before putting the roses in the water and getting rid of your coat. It was almost dark outside, so you also started to prepare the apartment for movie night. Your little girl woke up with a loud yawn that was followed by a wide smile when she noticed the blankets and pillows on the floor, some candies in a bowl, and fruits too, which were her favourite snacks.

“Matching pyjamas?” you winked at her and giggled as Lily nodded repeatedly, stretching her arms at you so you’d carry her to the bedroom.

A few minutes later you were cuddling under the blankets and watching Moana for the millionth time. You fell asleep shortly before the film ended and were quickly followed by Lily as she hummed an “I love you, mummy” and kissed the tip of your nose.

Despite not being the most comfortable place for your back to spend the night, there was no other place you’d rather be right now, holding your daughter's warm and small body - the smell of her strawberry shampoo and the pace of her calm breathing taking you to a place where no nightmares, no worries, would catch you in your sleep. You woke up in the middle of the night when she moved a bit and, after watching her sleep for a few minutes, finally turned off the TV and quickly texted Mason before going back to sleep.

When you woke up, there was a message from Jaz saying that they’d all go out for dinner after the ballet recital, and as hard as it was, you had to politely decline for you’d have a little celebration with your own family in a pre-Christmas party since a few members wouldn’t be joining at Foxwoods this year. And that you wouldn’t be able to be around Mason before telling him all the truth, which led to you telling her that he had reached you and you agreed to talk. She went from upset to hopeful in the blink of an eye.

As you prepared for the recital, you had to deal with an impatient and bossy Lily - combined with stress from work, that you had to forcefully turn into home office for the Holidays, the exhaustion that took over your body grew by the minute. It resulted in calling your mum for help, who showed up with your dad on her side by your door.

“You know she’d ask for me anyway, kid!” Your always cheerful father rubbed his hands together as he went straight for his granddaughter, who waited for him with her arms up, waiting to be spun around like a doll. You loved how your dad, a serious and famous lawyer, turned so soft whenever Lily was around - and now, how he’d cope with having to eventually “share” her with her other grandfather.

“Where do you need me to begin, amor?” Your mother’s heavy Colombian accent woke you up, and a sigh of relief parted your lips as you pulled her into a hug. “What is wrong, bebe? Tell your mamá,” Her hands softly stroked your back as you just closed your eyes and enjoyed being the daughter instead of being the mum.

“It’s nothing, I’m just exhausted. I thought that being one of the bosses would give me more free time but it’s just more work, and Lily is insufferable with this recital thing,” you sniffed. “I’m so glad it’s finally tomorrow.”

But you also weren’t, because it meant you’d see Mason after five years.

If anyone told you that your daughter’s ballet recital would be the place you’d almost certainly meet her father again, especially without him being the father of another kid there, you’d just roll your eyes and leave - as you stood in front of your closet, not sure about what to wear, your mind played tricks on you creating different scenarios on how that meeting would go. There was so much expectation from you, so much anxiety to see how Mason would react. He thought you’d meet for coffee sometime soon, not at a ballet recital where you were the mother of one of the kids.

Much to your relief, Willow arrived at your place right on time to save you from a breakdown over “what to wear to meet the father of my daughter after five years without looking like an exhausted mother, but also drop-dead gorgeous, and respectful”.

“Lord, that’s specific!” Willow screeched, not really helping you, in the end. “Why do you want to impress him anyway?”

“Willie, I know you’re smarter than this,” you replied as she just shrugged, still waiting for an answer. You got a positive reaction when you picked a knit burgundy dress, so you tried it on and what you saw in the mirror made you satisfied. “The next time I see him it’ll be to tell him the truth, so he needs a good first second impression.”

“His first impression of you was good enough,” she teased, watching your cheeks blush as she helped to remove the dress tag. “But you’re wearing a brand new dress for him tonight, so I’m sure the second impression will be just as good.”

“Stop it, silly. You know it’s not like this, and he doesn’t know it’s a new dress.”

Willow kept teasing you with her glares and smirks as the five of you drove to the small theatre rented for the night by the ballet studio, it was already a bit crowded when you got there and you rushed to take Lily to the backstage, where all her ballet friends greeted her in excitement. It truly was the cutest thing in the world, those little humans in their tutus, giggling and chatting like they were grown-ups.

With a quick and wet kiss on your daughter’s cheek - that made her adorably embarrassed - and a hug on Summer, you told the girls how wonderful they were and left to find your family. You quickly spotted Willow and Jaz laughing about something that made you curious, and although you were happy to see Jasmine, you also hoped it’d take a little longer to meet her and, potentially, the rest of her family. And Mason, to be more specific.

“He’s not here yet,” like she could read your mind, Jaz’s words caused you to sigh in relief. “You look gorgeous, by the way!”

Smiling at her, you softly stroked her bump. “You too, pretty mumma.”

As the lights dimmed down, announcing that the recital would begin soon, you and Willow parted ways from Jaz to meet your family. Your dad held your hand and gently squeezed it, his eyes already sparkling with tears - the truth was you couldn’t have done it without your parents, but your dad was something else. It was expected that being showered with affection would be something you’d get from your mum, who was a Latina, but you got it all from your dad because, according to him, you were the result of how much he adored your mum and Lily was an extension of that. His legacy, as he’d say. He never questioned your choices, the way you raised your daughter, nor why you never talked about who Lily’s father was. The respect your parents had for you was overwhelming, and that’s why you’d tell the whole truth tonight as soon as Lily was peacefully asleep.

When the five-year-olds act began, you were the one ready to let some tears roll down your cheeks. There she was, your Lilian Maisie, as beautiful as ever on her first ballet performance - something you never truly expected, since she had always been the adventurous type of kid. But you watched her balance it so perfectly that you often questioned if she was just five years old, and also how she’d be as a grown woman. As she danced, you had a clear vision of Lily in her early twenties. She was tall, her hair was a bit darker now but the soft curls were still there and so was the natural flush on her cheeks. She was beautiful and finally looked a bit more like you, but Mason’s smile was still there. She was kind, full of hope, funny, gracious and so smart. She was loved by everyone around her and made their lives better by simply existing.

When her act ended, you proudly stood up and clapped your hands as if your life relied on it. Her eyes scanned the audience, looking for you, and when she finally found you her face lit up and that smile you loved so much was there, making your heart melt. “I love you,” you mumbled, and she just winked at you.

Gosh, there was no way Mason wouldn’t love this girl to the point his heart would nearly explode. You wanted him to have it too.

Excusing yourself as the older girls got on stage, you went to the bathroom to fix your makeup. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you searched for your phone and, with a courage you hadn’t felt in the longest time, you typed a quick message to Mason asking if he’d be willing to meet the next day, in the afternoon.

What you didn’t expect was to find him right outside, holding his phone with a wide smile on his lips.

Mason Mount looked as gorgeous as he’d ever been - you could smell his cologne even if you were at least ten steps away from him. Wearing black jeans, and a Dior sweater that made him look breathtakingly gorgeous, Mason ended the distance between you as you felt your heart beating faster each second. He was still holding his phone when he stopped in front of you.

“I literally just texted you back saying yes,” he ran his fingers through his hair and that was as sexy as you remembered. Mason had a beard now, and although he was still young, the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes were more evident now. “You’re the last person I thought I’d meet here.”

You nodded, forcing your brain to put some words together. “You too.” Lie. But you had to make it look like it was just a coincidence.

“You look incredible, Y/n,” Mason said under his breath, his eyes shamelessly scanning your outfit. That same pair of eyes was your favourite thing to look at every morning. Now you knew what Willow meant when she said that Lily and Mason were identical - how could he not notice when they met? “There’s so much I wanna say to you,” he continued.

“Save it for tomorrow.” You interrupted, not wanting to sound rude, and Mason nodded in agreement.

“Can I pick you up around 3?”

“I think we should meet there.” You said, thinking of how suffocating and awkward it’d be being inside a car with him after all these years. “There’s a nice place I usually go with my dau-,” you coughed, watching his brows frown. “With my best friend. I’ll text you the address and we’ll meet there.”

Then, all of a sudden, Mason pulled you into a hug. His warmth against your body melted your heart, and you could feel how his breath deepened as his arms tightened around your figure. “I’ll meet you there, so I can decently apologise for being a complete idiot to someone incredible like you.”

His words were all you needed to know for sure that this wouldn’t be easy.

Was he being genuine, or was he just trying to get into your pants like he did back then? Either way, things were immensely different now, for this wasn’t just about you and Mason anymore.

This was about her - Lily. It was about her future, her happiness, how his presence in her life would have a tremendous impact on how she’d develop and what kind of adult she’d be. Nothing would ever be the same, and there was nowhere to run.

This was going to be tough.

————

BONUS - SOCIAL MEDIA

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount series #invisible string mm | chapter four

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diazsdimples · 1 day

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I think- I think you might be my person.

Buddie or BuckTommy if it sparks joy 💞🦛

Oh, we're going for the feels today huh? Have some Buddie feels, just for you my love 🥰🫶

"I think - I think you might be person."

The words hang heavy between them, thick with unspoken meaning. There's yearning behind them, years of bitten back "I love you" and "don't leave me" and "please stay, I need you." But finally, Buck will speak them, no longer afraid of the consequences. He's ready. They're ready.

Eddie looks a little stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly as he looks at Buck, takes in the open vulnerability of his expression. They're so close, just a couple more steps and they'll be there. Buck waits with bated breath, praying Eddie will take the cue and take Buck's tender, open heart delicately in his hands.

"I- we're best friends, Buck, I should hope I'm your person."

He's deflecting, Buck can tell. Eddie's had years of repression and Catholicism that've taught him to box away all his feelings and not allow himself to be authentically him.

But not anymore. They're allowed to be happy. They're allowed to have this, to have each other. Buck just needs to take that step that Eddie can't do himself, because Eddie will never let himself have something if he doesn't think Buck will want it too.

"No, Eddie. That's not what I mean, I'm not-" he sighs, mentally weighing up his options. He could back out now, pretend he was just talking about their friendship. But then they'd be back in that revolving door of bad decisions and unspoken words and Buck can't do that anymore. He won't.

"Fuck it. Eddie, you're my person because you're the most important thing in my life. You and Christopher. You're my best friend, yeah, but it's more than that, right? Every day I wake up and you're the first thing I think about. When we're not together, I feel empty, but when you're by my side it's like I'm whole, like a piece of me has been returned to my body. You're my person because there is no one else in this world I would rather spend every day with than you. I trust you with my life."

Eddie's eyes are soft and they shine with unshed tears. He's biting his lip and Buck wants nothing more than to run his thumb over it and release it from his teeth, and tenderly capture his lips with Buck's own. But he needs to finish what he's saying. Eddie has to hear it.

"Eddie I can't imagine a life without you. The sun rises and sets on you, the world revolves around you and I-" his voice breaks and he ducks his head. He can't go on, he can't say it, he's not strong enough, he's not-

Eddie's fingers curl under his chin and slowly, gently, he raises Buck's head so their eyes meet. God he's so beautiful. He's truly the most beautiful person Buck has ever seen.

"Go on," he whispers, his voice cracked and raw with emotion. "Please."

Buck sucks in a breath. It's now or never.

"I love you."

It's like the air has been knocked out of Eddie and his breath hisses from him. Buck can't breathe. The oxygen has been sucked from the room, and he can't breathe, not until Eddie speaks. Until he confirms that Buck hasn't fucked this up and read all the signals wrong.

"Please say something," he begs.

Eddie takes a step closer, his fingers never leaving Buck's chin. The gap between them closes until they're chest to chest, nose to nose, close than they've ever been before. Eddie's lips ghost against his, a tentative brush, as though he's testing the waters. Buck tilts his head ever so slightly and, emboldened, Eddie kisses Buck properly this time, their lips moving in sync with one another and oh, this is what's been missing from Buck's life.

It's like the world has a new meaning now because hold fuck, Eddie is kissing him. His best friend, the love of his life, the man he'd almost convinced himself he would never be allowed to have, is kissing him back as though he feels the same. There's such tenderness and emotion with the way Eddie kisses him, as though they were born for this. As though they were made for one another. Two halves of a whole, destined to be with one another regardless of circumstance.

Eddie pulls away from him and rests his forehead against Buck's, his lips pressed tightly together. He's breathing heavily and fast, as though he's moments away from a panic attack.

Buck gently touches Eddie's arm, just above the elbow. Eddie doesn't pull away, staying completely still.

"Eds?" Buck says, voice quiet and full of choked up emotion.

Eddie licks his lips and takes a deep breath, as though steeling himself, and Buck feels sick. He's going to say he doesn't feel it, that Buck is alone in this journey, that they're just friends and Buck has misread the signs. Eddie can't, he won't, won't ever-

"I love you too."

Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!

#james answers things #james writes #this one also got away from me #and it's entirely your fault for giving me THAT sentence #I hope this was what you wanted 🫶🫶#buddie #buddie ficlet #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 buddie #911 abc #911 #eddie x buck #buddie 911 #buddie fic #buddie wip

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vesppperoro · 18 hours

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can i request angel dust x a protective overlord reader?

Angel Dust x Overlord!Reader

Includes: Angel Dust, Valentino, Overlord!Reader (male)

Warning: Valentino is a warning

A/N: overlord reader breaks his contract real?!!! Anyways. Angel is GAY so I made the reader masc. I hope that doesn’t make you too upset. I tried to make the form as vague as possible so you can imagine your own demon form.

Power. You rose to power more than 10 years ago. Going from a lowly pornstar to an overlord in the matter of a few months. You owned many souls and had your own territory that involved your own porn studio.

You were also a dancer. You owned the souls of your strippers, dancers, and your pornstars. You took very good care of your souls, but you did have to show who was in charge every now and then.

After the sudden appearance of the radio demon, your comrades fell. He disappeared for the 7 years you built your reputation.

Now, you were at the Hazbin Hotel for quite a minute. You had your own territory, yes, but you also enjoyed staying at this place. It was free and you got to help out.

At this place, you met some interesting characters. Charlie Morningstar, the princess of hell. She was the one who founded the hotel and she was very sweet. However, she was awkward socially.

Vaggie, Charlie’s girlfriend. You learned she was a fallen exorcist that the princess found. She was levelheaded and almost always spoke for her girlfriend as the voice of reason.

Husk, the bartender. He was under contract with Alastor. You recognized him as a former overlord. He was stubborn, but he had a good heart.

Niffty, the maid. For a little thing, she was creepy as hell. She loved climbing you and killing bugs.

Sir. Pentious, a snake inventor. He took care of these little egg things that you found weird, but it’s hell. Who is anyone to judge.

Alastor, the radio demon. Everyone knows him. You were the only old overlord he didn’t kill. Maybe it was your matching power, or your presence. You didn’t know.

And finally, Angel Dust. You knew him as Valentino’s little toy boy. That moth guy ranted about him during some Overlord meetings. It’s good to finally put a face to the name.

He was very flirtatious. He even flirted with you. He showed you one of his movies and it almost made you sick. The true fear in his eyes that went unedited, the pain he seemed to be going through, the moans of agony. You could tell he didn’t like it. Why was he showing it if he didn’t like it?

You didn’t want to push on it. You just hung out with him more. You had even told him about your studio! “You should come work for me, darling. I’d give you way better perks.” You smiled and offered. His look of distrust and fear made something snap inside of you. A parental instinct? No. An instinct to protect him. You knew you had to.

After that exchange, you hung close by him. You two became very good friends! He even ended up confessing his love for you and you accepted gratefully.

It took a few months before he opened up, but he eventually did. Angel told you about his situation. His contract, how Val had treated him, his movies, and other things. Not all at the same time, of course. You pieced them together from bits of information he has told you.

Even if you didn’t show it, his situation enraged you. You wanted to kill Valentino, just as Alastor killed the overlords before him. You tried to keep your cool. You did your best to comfort your boyfriend, but you devised a plan. A plan to help Angel Dust out of his situation.

Valentino had come to you about collaborating with him on a porn project. Originally, he wanted you to star in it but you refused sternly. Today was the day you had to arrive at his studio. Angel had been gone the whole day, so you assumed he was there.

After stepping out of the limo that took you to your destination, you looked around the place. You were guided inside by a guard of sorts. You had to show your ID and shit to people at the front before they allowed you into the studio.

Before walking in, the moth man himself came out to greet you. “So great to see you, mi querido..~” He spoke, picking up your hand and kissing it. Your smile let down for a moment and you slowly dragged your arm away. “Valentino. Bring me to the studio already. You’re 15 minutes late.” You said between gritted teeth. “Right this way, el cariño.~” He pulled you inside of the studio.

As soon as you stepped in, the smell of sex hit your nose. You expected it, obviously. It’s a porn studio. But this strong? Does he even clean? You shook it off and tried to ignore the smell. You took a look around the studio and noticed some workers staring.

“Alright. Hello, my name is Reader. I will be working with Valentino on this project. I hope you will have me.” You introduced, bowing your head to the group. You heard some whispers before many just nodded and smiled at you.

Your eyes turned to the door that opened. It was Angel Dust. Your face turned red at the slutty outfit he was in and you waved. “Is that the star?” You questioned. You didn’t notice the slight snarl on Valentino’s face. “Yes.” He took a puff of his cigarette and blew red smoke off to the side.

“Alright. Let me see the script.” You walked over to one of the Hellhounds by the massive pink bed and took the script from his paws. Hands? You didn’t know. You skimmed over the script and you stopped. Your head slowly turned to the moth man and your expression dropped.

“We are NOT collaborating with a script as bad as this. Also, non con? We aren’t doing that.” You ripped the script up, much to Valentino’s dismay. “I will be working on a new one. Expect a better one by tomorrow.” You sighed and shook your head. The look of fear your boyfriend gave the man made you pissed off.

“Angel, may I see you for a moment?” He said, falsely sweet. Before Angel could reply, you stood in front of the moth demon. “You can say whatever you want to say out here.” Your eyes darkened as they scanned Val’s body. You could tell he was hiding his anger, but you could care less. “I’d like to have a word with my star, in private.” He fumed silently. You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Angel, darling. If anything happens, please let me know.” He said nothing and turned to his room.

“For the rest of you, I’ll order you guys some food while I think of how to proceed. What do you guys want? It’s on me.” You heard a mixture of ‘pizza’ and ‘burgers’. You decided to get both. You pulled up a chair and sat near Angel’s room. A loud thud made you jump out of your seat. You slammed his door open and saw the gruesome scene at hand.

Angel was on the ground, nose bleeding and clothing torn. He looked like he had been roughed up. At the sight, your demon form immediately flared. Your hair rose and your eyes turned a dark red. Your pupils dilated and your claws sharpened as well. You grew a bit in size and your voice boomed throughout the room.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” Your voice was demonic. It sounded like many voices. Maybe the voices of the souls you owned too, but who knows. You grabbed Valentino by the scruff of his neck and threw him out of the room. You crawled out of the room and pinned him to the floor. He was probably into it, if you really thought about it, but you didn’t care.

“NEVER. AND I MEAN NEVER. TOUCH ANGEL LIKE THAT EVER AGAIN OR I WILL RIP YOUR DICK OFF.” He nodded aggressively and you backed off of him. You ruffled your hair and transformed back. “You have him under contract, correct?” You questioned, staring at the bruises that were starting to form on his body.

“Yes?” He pushed himself off of the ground and brushed the dirt off of his clothes. “Give it to me. Or else.” Your eyes darkened once again as you snarled at the moth man. He hurriedly made Angel’s contract appear and you grabbed it from him. You ripped it up, effectively ending his contract. “Reader..” The spider demon stared at you in disbelief.

“Do you want a contract with me so this doesn’t happen again?” You asked him, cupping his face gently. “…I’ll think about it. Thank you.” You gave him a gentle kiss to his cheek and led him out of the studio. “This collab is over. If any of you want to come work for me, my address is on that paper.” You pointed to a card you placed down earlier and walked out the door with your boyfriend.

Bonus Scene

As you arrived back at the hotel, Angel brought you to his room. “I found this new movie I thought you’d LOVE.” He said happily, pulling Fat Nuggets into his arms as he went to grab the movie he spoke about. “You can tell me about your little meeting while we watch it, darlin’. ”

“It was about the same as it normally goes. There was one interesting part, however.” You picked up the popcorn you had made and placed it in the middle of the bed. “Oh? What happened, sweet cheeks?” He started the movie and walked over to you. He sat beside you on the bed and leaned on your shoulder.

“Y’know that girl Velvette?” You leaned back against the pillows as he placed his head onto your chest. “Yeah. She’s part of Val’s group, right?” His hands made its way to your arms as he held them. “Yeah. Her. She made a theory that Carmilla killed that one Angel. It was interesting, to say the least.” You shrugged and placed your arms around Angel’s body. He laughed at your words.

You two then sat in a comfortable silence. Fat Nuggets squeezed between the two of you and laid there. You gently pet his head, along with Angel’s. As the movie progressed, Angel Dust seemed to be thinking of something. “Darling?” He spoke up. “Yes?” You looked down at his beautiful eyes and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you.”

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ackermai07 · 23 hours

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𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧!!

ᵃ/ⁿ ⁱ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵍ ˢᵒ ʸᵉᵃʰ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ!

𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴! :𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻

Bakugou x fem!reader x Todoroki

Initially, you were childhood friends with both of them.

It's complicated, but hear me out.

Your mother is a model and met Bakugo's mother.

Your father is a famous hero and met Endeavor.

And boom, you became friends with both boys.

Somehow, in your upbringing, you made sure that these two boys never met (we all know what will happen).

Both of them grew to fall deeper and deeper in love with you.

Like, the only perfect girl who managed to match both of them.

(Congratulations on that, by the way)

Shoto loves you for your warmth, affection, and constant defense of him against his father (honestly, this might be the reason he fell for you in the first place).

As for Katsuki, he admires your strong personality as you're the only one who stood up against his arrogance and saw him as a regular person (I might write about this later).

With you entering U.A. High School, here comes the disaster.

Both boys are shocked to discover their mutual knowledge of you.

It might be a similar situation where Shoto calls you by his nickname for you, and coincidentally, Katsuki was nearby.

Literally, his face will turn into the angriest scowl you've ever seen.

"Oi, what the hell are you doing with this half-and-half bastard?!"

Let's just say the class was about to explode, if not for you... ahem, ahem.

This might increase their animosity towards each other at first.

But things calm down over time; your strong and leadership personality makes them both listen to you.

(And because of their love for you as well)

Expect a strong competition between them, even without realizing it.

Things like: who's faster to walk you home, or who's quicker to sit next to you at lunch, even helping you with training and studying.

I find this so cute it's almost tear-jerking...

Also, during discussions or in the dorm, they'll stick to you like lost puppies.

Both of them realize everyone's staring at them, but do they care? Absolutely not.

Imagine you're in the middle of a conversation with one of the girls, and they're standing behind you (giving each other side-eyes).

"Couldn't find another place to stick your damn ass?"

"Looks like you're here too without being needed, Bakugo."

Both of them start activating their quirks, and you feel it, so you turn around to see what's happening.

As soon as you meet their eyes, you find the widest stupid grin on their faces, asking if there's something going on.

(Both are rarely smiling, but this is just an improvised move)

So, you realize there's definitely something going on, but you decide to ignore it and resume your conversation.

And they go back to passing dirty looks to each other.

In short, a love triangle with these two idiots is the most problematic thing in your life.

And at the same time, the best moments.

As for the choice, it's up to you, dear~

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shouto todoroki #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanfic #todobaku #bakugou headcanons #todoroki headcanons #Bakugou x reader headcanons #todoroki x reader headcanons

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erwinsvow · 1 day

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THEY FINALLY GOT TOGETHER OMGGG THANK U FOR GOT WHAT U WANTED!!!! what about when they actually finally start dating, how would that dynamic be??

ahhhhh i know!!!!!! my babies i feel like they finally have their story the way i wanted it to be, even though i rushed it a little i think its fitting theyre so in love they really couldnt drag it out much longer without the grand confession. and theyre so toxic everyone else in their life is sick of them lying to each other that theyre 'just friends'

omg what a darling question stopppp! i think lots and lots of like, almost forgetting theyre a couple. they always hang out alone, always sleep over, go out to eat etc, so nothing is truly different. i can imagine like neither tell their parents but one day rafe kisses you on his way out of the room and theyre like... um do you have something to tell us?!!?

i think kook trio reader take it a little bit lighter than rafe does, still tries to plan stuff with the boys but gets convinced to roll around in bed with rafe instead. she ofc likes her time with her boys tho so lots of like just random kisses in between swings at golf, they have to yell at rafe to go back and finish his play, even more posessiveness/jealousy but now he can say like 'get away from my girl' while kelce and top just roll their eyes and she stares at rafe at googly cuz she likes her man possessive now that shes actually his

but the long and short of it is that theyre still just best friends and the same clingy people they were before , they can just show off now which they both love <3 esp kook trio reader shes a jelly bitch. loves sitting on his lap at parties and when a girl comes over to buy coke she'll be the one to hand it to her or count the money for rafe

i feel like rafe also is goofy and kelce and top DESPISE it but when they have their beach or boat days and shes in one of her normal bikinis he's all "stop starin' at my girl you freaks. she's taken" and theyre like "you mean our best friend?"

or when she's like "kelce and i are going to see that movie, you wanna come?" he's like "sounds sus. i know you have a habit of falling for your so-called best friends. ill meet you there." fasfkjnj

#this is ass but my fingers hurt from typing and my team is abt to play and im anxious </3 #i hope u like it.. i love u so much #rafe cameron #kook trio reader

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fallow-hollow · 2 days

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haiii :D anon who requested courting rituals with kabru here !! i meant to imply somewhere like southeast asia , ( although i could totally see kabru being from an area near the himalayas or something , like nepal , since he shares a name with one of the mountains ) but i intentionally tried to specify it reallyy vague so anyone could relate ! (๑>◡<๑)

but to be fair , i dont really think dungeon meshi really mentions the southeast much or even at all ?? (｀_´)ゞother than the mention of toshiro being from the eastern archipelago , so i'd imagine reader would be from one of the various scattered islands there towards the south ? :0

( also if you need an example , some traditional courting where i'm from is something like meeting the parents and asking for permission to pursue , handwritten letters , meaningful conversations , various gifts like flowers , and serenading ! plus just genuine respect and a willingness to wait ^_^ even though im pretty sure kabru would get a bit impatient sometimes ehehe )

i know it sounds like something pretty simple but even the little things can go a long way ٩(^‿^)۶ !!

suitor

…ft! kabru x male! reader

…tags! courting, mentions of marriage, meeting reader’s family, reader is from an unspecified place outside the island, dancing, mentions of having kids

…word count! 2025

…notes! tried to make these imagines broad but not extremely so, and some of these courting gestures do have a little kabru flare to them because he’s like that. feedback is greatly appreciated, because i want to make sure my writing is accurate to each request!

Kabru isn’t someone I’d see dating casually. Sure, he frequently uses his charm to sway people’s opinions and get them on his side, but I don’t think he’s really been in a proper relationship before at all. So if Kabru’s pursuing you, it’s for keeps.

Family is a really important thing in courting/marriage culture all around the world, so trust and believe that one of the first things he does is try to get on good terms with your family members.

Don’t underestimate the man, he will somehow deduce the mailing addresses of your immediate and extended family and immediately started getting in contact, saying he was a friend of yours and telling them about the time spent with you. Pretty quickly after that, your family starts sending you letters telling you that you should’ve told them about that lovely young gentleman you’d met sooner.

“Kabru?”

Arms crossed, you did your best to remain steadfast even as your companion looked at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“Yes?” His response was laced with false innocence, but you knew he knew. He just got a kick out of hearing you say it yourself.

With a sigh, you would slump your shoulders and ask, “how did you find out the mailing address of several of my family members?”

“Oh, that was just a coincidence,” the man lied. “Remember when one of your packages got misdelivered to the tavern? The return address happened to stick in my memory, and I got curious to learn more about your family. After all, they contact you quite a bit, and I was curious about your relationship.”

Despite your lack of a headache, you rubbed your temples with your index and middle fingers to express your exasperation with the man. Kabru was great, he really was, but sometimes he confused you greatly….

“You could’ve just asked, you know that?”

The close-eyed smile he gave you in return let you know that you probably hadn’t gotten through to him much.

“I just thought it would be a nice surprise, don’t you agree?”

He might not express it much outwardly, but deep down, Kabru is really worried about being good enough to obtain the blessing to pursue you. That’s why he tries to cover as many bases as possible to be the best possible suitor for you.

When he does get to meet your family in person, he does as much preparation as humanly possible to make it all go perfectly. He studies up on local politics, sports, and cuisine in order to be able to make good conversation with your family.

I think Kabru also rather likes kids, so he’s extremely good with any younger family members you may have, which is likely to score points with your parents and other adults in the family. Kabru loves hearing the funny things kids say and seeing what sort of things their vibrant minds come up with, so he’d do things like play pretend with them. He’s also pretty physically fit, so he could play a sport or outdoor game with them too.

Even if he appears perfectly calm on the inside, he was absolutely scared shitless when he asked your family for permission to pursue you. He would assure them that he’s very much prepared to be with you in the long term, and even came prepared with things like savings for marriage or even a dowry if that’s something that is typical in your region.

Overall, Kabru is a polite, poised, and extremely well educated young man, so he’s someone that pretty much any parent would want as a son-in-law. Hearing their words of approval was like lifting the weight of an entire city off his shoulders.

“I was so worried,” your partner would admit after the fact. Completely unable to wrap your head around such a thing, you said the first thing that came to your mind.

“How could you be? You’re perfect, Kabru. If anything, I was worried you’d have something better to do than settle down with me.”

Those piercing blue eyes bored into your skull, looking at you as if you were the most insane man in the world for having said such a thing.

“How could that be when you’re perfect too?”

The question left you in such a shocked and flustered state that you hardly noticed him move into you felt both his hands holding one of your own, thumbs resting almost reverently on top of your ring finger.

“It’s almost embarrassing now to admit that at one point in time, I didn’t see a future for myself. I guess that was because I hadn’t seen you yet?”

A ‘pfft’ sound escaped your mouth almost instantly. “Oh, no need to use your smooth lines on me.”

Both thumbs pressed down on your finger ever so slightly, in the place where perhaps a ring might go.

“I mean it, I really do.”

Whether it be providing for you or taking care of a home, Kabru does his best to learn anything he needs to no one order to be a good partner. The man actually isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so him learning housework and cooking for your sake really goes to show just how devoted he is.

In fact, on one of your dates, he surprises you by presenting you with a dish he cooked himself — one from your homeland. Even if it’s not perfect, you can tell he put so much love into it.

“The arrangement of it is kind of messy, I know….” Seeing Kabru of all people acting sheepish was certainly a rare sight. As strange as it was, thinking about the implications of such a thing made you feel all warm inside. He really cared for you that much, huh……

“It’s not the appearance of it that matters, it’s the taste.” You were quick to reassure him, smiling as you took the necessary utensils in one hand. “Besides, knowing that you tried so hard for me is more than enough. I mean, I hardly ever see you cook for yourself.”

There was no way Kabru could deny your statement, so he could only nod and look to the side. Instead of directly addressing your correct assessment of his skills, he pivoted into an adjacent topic. “Cooking has always been a gesture people perform for the people they care about. All over the world, it’s something that connects families and couples… it’s only natural I should try it, regardless of my skill level.”

Your partner’s explanations of his acts of service, despite sounding like they came right out of some textbook, never failed to charm you. At its core, it was yet another reminder of how hard Kabru worked to understand how to be a good partner for you.

“It means a lot to me,” you reassured him, lifting the food to your lips, not quite eating it yet. Kabru did his best to keep his expression stone still to hide his anticipation as you inhaled the scent of the dish, making a small humming noise in reaction that he couldn’t help but overthink on the inside. Was it good? Bad? Did he not use enough spices? Too many spices? He knew he should have triple checked the recipe…

While the tallman was overthinking, you readily accepted the labor of love into your mouth, deliberating on its texture and flavor as you chewed. A sharp exhale escaped you immediately after swallowing, after which you would chirp with delight,

“It’s really nice!”

Kabru’s shoulders relaxed for the first time in the date. Mission accomplished.

I imagine Kabru keeps a journal not only about daily events, but also about people, so sometimes as a gift you might get one of the pages of his journal that has an entry about you. Sometimes the page may also contain little doodles or sketches of you, many of which were when he was admiring you without you noticing.

Kabru’s got a pretty nice singing voice, actually, and he seems to speak multiple languages, so he may try learning songs in your language to sing to you. It’s as smooth and romantic as you’d imagine, but if you start singing along with him, you can see him start to melt the second he hears your voice. You really are his weakness.

Another thing — dancing! Kabru has likely had ballroom dance lessons, but other types of dance are ones he’s more unfamiliar with. If you ever know a regional dance you want to teach him, he’ll be happy to learn, albeit super embarrassed at his own clumsiness. Being able to romance you with honeyed words and picture perfect gestures is something he prides himself on, but you reassure him that he’s just as charming even now.

A chorus of ‘sorry’s followed almost in time with the rhythm of your own feet. The man responsible for said chorus, however, didn’t seem to have much rhythm of his own yet, and was feeling rather bashful as a result.

“It’s rare that I get to see you clumsy, Kabru.” There was a teasing lilt in your voice that the other man immediately read into, despite his best judgment. Logically, he knew that you would never say something intentionally cruel to or about him, but when he was always so eager to have your favor, it was hard not to worry.

Another apology escaped his lips, after which one of your hands left its assigned position to rest under his chin. The movement of the rest of your body stilled, focusing only on getting the one you loved so dearly to face you. Blue irises were met with not a trace of malice, only the truest of endearment.

“It’s fine, Kabru.” The affection in your voice paired with how insistently you pitched these words to him gave him the strength to smile and nod in understanding, his own paranoid be damned. Resolving his habitual apologizing sated you, though you were certainly not done loving on the man that you called yours.

“Honestly it’s nice to be able to teach you things firsthand. You spend a lot of time reading about things, probably to surprise me, which is great, don’t get me wrong — but I like this.”

The little head tilt you did without thinking drove him wild on the inside, but he did his best not to show it. It would be so easy to kiss you like this.

“I like being able to feel like I can teach you something, even when you know as much as you do.”

Considering it made you this happy, Kabru might start asking you to teach him things a lot more often. For once, the thought of putting the situation in someone else’s hands made him feel warm inside instead of uneasy.

“Yeah, I like it too.”

Fashion may not be one of Kabru’s biggest interests, but the sight of you in any culture or region-specific clothing that you like always has him in awe of just how dashing you look.

This goes double if it’s your wedding and you’re wearing a traditional outfit, maybe even something passed down in the family. You might as well just kill the man then and there, really.

Speaking of marriage and family, I think Kabru would actually really like adopting a kid some time in the future, as long as everything is stable and such. Kabru himself was adopted, so the idea of becoming a home for a child who may have lost the home they had before is a concept rather close to his own heart.

Future used to be something Kabru fought desperately to create for all of humanity while never, ever considering his own place in it. So much changed after meeting you — he could actually see himself having a future now. Being an important character in a story instead of just the person telling it to somebody else.

More than anything, you saved him. He doesn’t tell this to anybody other than you, but as you lay together at night, he insists he wouldn’t trade any of this for the world.

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon imagines #kabru x reader #kabru of utaya x reader #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi

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kaigarax · 3 days

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"By The Way, I Think I Love You."

Julian Loki x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone you haven't seen in awhile."

My Dearest,

Amongst the billions of people in this world we might one day simply walk past our soulmates and never even know that was them in the first place; with the only interaction being nothing but a simple glance in their direction.

We might spend every single day of our lives with them. Happy, ecstatic, and thrilled because you know that you’ve found the one. We might never get the chance to meet them at all. Always left wondering and waiting for someone that might never even come in the first place. We might be distant friends that are left simply wondering what if.

And maybe -just maybe- we might meet them soon.

Yours Truly

---

“Julian Loke?” You say incredulously as you spot him, a teasing grin on your lips, “the Julian Loke? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Loki scoffs, “we just saw each other six months ago and now you’re acting as if I’m a celebrity or something.”

“Yeah, and all you said to me was hi in a passing glace,” you tease, “so I thought that I should take a more… appreciative approach. Besides, you are basically a celebrity after winning that gold medal there around your neck. Do you plan on showing off to everyone that you’re the prodigy that everyone’s talking about?”

“You say that as if this isn’t your third gold medal.” Loki rolls his eyes in an attempt to get you to ignore the burning hot feeling of his face, “and besides, not everyone is talking about me. Plenty of people talk about you too.”

Your eyes twinkle with amusement the same way that Loki remembers that they used to and it makes his heart race. The last time the two of you had a genuine conversation had been back when the two of you had decided to go your separate ways.

Loki had been the one to initiate the separation and what could you do but accept his departure? You very well couldn’t force him to continue to skate with him despite how disappointed you had been. And it wasn’t as if your friendship had been based solely around figure skating but Loki imagines that it couldn’t have been very easy for you to keep on seeing him so he made the decision to slowly disappear from your life. It was… hard.

Everytime after that had been nothing but the exchanging of pleasantries.

After years of brief conversations Loki’s glad to see that you’re still the same bright eyed girl that he remembers. Happy to see that the fame hadn’t altered the warm ice loving idiot that Loki had once been Loki’s best friend.

Loki clears his throat, “you skated well.”

“You did too.” You replied, smiling softly.

“You watched me?”

“Of course! I always watch your performances when I can. Gotta make sure I don’t miss out on any mistake you make.”

Loki rolls his eyes, “of course you do,” but smiles fondly, “you never did miss the chance to point out when I mess up.”

“Well someone’s gotta keep you humble, Speed King.”

Loki blushes, “oh gosh. Please don’t call me that.”

“What? I thought it was a cool nickname~” You smile brightly, “I’d love a nickname like the speed king.”

“The only nickname you’d get would be slave driver.” Another voice says, as a salmon haired boy pops up behind you, wrapping his arm around you comfortably. You lean into his touch ever so slightly rather than flinching away the way you usually do when someone wraps their arm around you.

Loki immediately recognizes the salmon haired man as your figure skating partner. If not for the fact that he’d watched the two of you skate together than from the way you stand beside him.

It reminds Loki a little of how you and he used to act around one another. There’s a certain comfortable ease that you and the salmon haired boy seem to have that comes with spending hours upon hours with one another.

“I’m not a slave driver! You’re the one that insists on skating as long as I do with your horrible stamina.” You exclaim, smiling as you look at the salmon haired boy.

“Says the one that’s always encouraging me to skate the routine faster or add in another trick that won’t even make it into the final routine.” The salmon haired boy turns to look at Loki, “oh, wow! You’re Julian Loki! I hope this one wasn’t bothering you too much. She’s a total figure skating junkie.”

“I’m familiar.” Loki says.

“Julian and I are childhood friends.” You explained.

Loki cuts in, “and I was her first figure skating partner.” Truthfully, Loki isn’t quite sure why he even spoke up in the first place and is absolutely clueless about what he says next, “I was there for all her firsts.”

You roll your eyes and smile fondly, “ah yes, being the first to see me fall flat on my face hundreds of times when I first started skating. Very exciting.”

“Well I for one would have loved to have seen you fall flat on your face hundreds of times,” the salmon haired boy says, his eyes never once leaving your form.

You nudge him playfully, “as if you don’t already see me fall on my face all the time during practice.”

“That’s because you keep trying to do moves that you haven’t practiced.”

“Well, everyone needs to start somewhere.”

“Not in the middle of practicing a routine.”

Loki clears his throat, “you’re still changing things up on the fly, I see.”

You pout, “hey! I only try to change things up during personal practice and it’s not like I do it all the time. I just get bored of doing the same thing all the time.”

The salmon haired boy turns to look at Loki with an expression that says ‘look at this silly girl’. Loki can only muster up a polite smile in response, his stomach burning.

“Oh, Julian. Is your mother here?” You ask, “I’d love to say hi. It’s been so long since I last saw here.”

“Oh, she’s already gone home after watching me skate. My dad had a headache so the two of them went home instead of watching the doubles. I’m sure she watched you skate on the television though.” Loki clears his throat, “you could come with us to dinner though. I’m sure they’d love to have you come with us. Your parents are invited too if they want to come.”

You smile, “yeah, I think they’d love that. Oh, do you want to go see them now? I’m sure they’d love to greet you. They’re always going on and on about how they miss you and watching the two of us skate together.”

“Oh, that sounds great.” Loki smiles softly.

You turn to look at the salmon haired boy, “you okay to head back without me?”

“Yeah,” he warily looks between you and Loki before nodding, “I’ll be okay. Will you?”

“Of course I’ll be okay.” You give the salmon haired boy a reassuring smile, “Julian will be with me anyways so if anything happens I can push him towards the danger.”

“Wow.” Loki pokes your cheek, “I’m really feeling the love over here.”

You roll your eyes before grabbing onto Loki’s hand like you used to do when the two of you were young, “come on. Let’s go before my parents leave. You know how much they hate to linger.”

---

“Dinner was nice.” Loki says, breaking the silence as he walks you home.

“It was very pleasant,” you smile, “just like old times.”

“Just like old times.” Loki repeated.

You nod.

The two of you had attended many dinners together with both yours and his parents coming together to treat the two of you after a long fought competition much like the one you had done today. Of course, the main difference is that the two of you no longer skate together but the feelings still feel the same.

What is different though has to be you.

Sure you’re the same playful girl that Loki grew up with but you’re simultaneously so different. So much prettier.

He’d never admitted it when the two of you were young but he had always thought you were pretty. He even went as far as calling you ugly one day which sent you into a flurry of tears and you refused to skate with him again until he promised to buy you shaved ice for a week. Now though, Loki doubts he could ever call you anything but pretty and even that seems like an understatement.

Who’d have thought that you’d turn into such a looker when you grew up.

His childhood best friend was now the girl that made his heart race and flutter. The one that made his heart skip a beat. The…

“Congratulations.” Loki says suddenly.

“Hm?”

Loki’s face heats up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, “congratulation on winning gold.”

You laugh softly, “congratulations to you too.”

“Yeah. Who’d have thought that after such a rough beginning for the two of us that we’d end up as gold medalists in one of the biggest skating competitions of the year.”

“I did, of course.”

Loki laughs, “liar!”

“No! I’ve always believed in the two of us. I just thought that we’d…” you trail off.

“That we’d do it together?”

“Yeah.”

“Well it all turned out for the best,” Loki clears his throat in an attempt to get rid of that uncomfortable feeling in his chest, “I don’t have to worry about you not being fast enough and you’ve… found someone that matches you well when you skate.”

You nod, smiling a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You and Sabito are rather different.” You say softly.

“Different?” Loki asks, though more through politeness rather than curiosity, “how so?”

“You love the praise that comes with being brilliant while you’re on the ice,” you explain, “while Sabito loves the expression of himself that he leaves while on the ice. Both admirable reasons for being on the ice - well, as admirable as one can be when it comes to a sport like skating.”

“And which are you?”

“Which am I?”

“That is what I asked, yes.”

“Hm,” you place a hand on your chin before smiling, “why don’t you tell me? Considering what I told you.”

Loki sighs, rolling his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s a strangely familiar feeling that brings a fondness' to Loki’s chest, “you love the very ice itself.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

Loki chuckles, feeling a genuine smile form on his face. He’d forgotten how introspective you could be and in turn how introspective you made him.

“Hey,” you pout cutely as you turn to look at Loki, “what’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. I promise.”

“Liar.”

“And how do you know I’m lying, huh?”

“Please. As if I wouldn’t. I was your skating partner for years. I’ve picked up on all your little habits and quirks. You have that same look on your face whenever that you would get when I would ask you to slow down.”

Loki laughs again, “and what kind of a look is that?”

“It’s that one where your eyebrows narrow ever so slightly,” you move your eyebrows as you attempt to replicate the expression for him, “and your eyes say ‘are you serious?’”

Loki ignores the pathetic skip of his heart, “I’m surprised you paid that much attention to me back when we skated together.”

“I’d be an awfully lousy partner if I didn’t notice small things like that.”

Ah, yes. That’s why he had never been all to cut out for partner skating. Not only did his best moves come from a speed that no one else could keep up with but because of his inability to notice mundane details like you. He doubts that he would have had any success in partner figure skating if he hadn’t been paired with you. Not that the two of you ever had much success apart from a bronze in the younger amature leagues.

He bets that the two of you would have done well eventually as you aged. Not only did you increase your speed in skating but Loki had gotten better at adapting to other people. It makes his heart ache as he wonders about what might’ve happened if he hadn’t decided to abandon you.

But this is for the best.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself as he thinks about the respective medals the two of you had won. Both rising up to claim the gold in your respective categories as young prodigies that had seemingly come out of nowhere.

Loki needed a chance to spread his wings and you needed someone like Sabito (Loki begrudgingly admits) that could understand you intuitively. That could help elevate you to another level on the ice rather than someone like him.

“Sabito always makes fun of me,” you say, smiling fondly as you look ahead into the distance, “says that I can read people like a book on the ice but can’t read a social situation to save my life.”

Loki rubs your head affectionately, “he’s not wrong. You are pretty dense.”

“Hey!” You duck lower to escape Loki’s grasp, “I’m not dense!”

Loki laughs, “according to who?”

“Ah, well um… okay maybe no one has said that I’m not dense but it’s not as if people go around talking about how…” you pause for a moment as you attempt to figure out what to say next, “how not dense other people are?”

“And how many people have called you dense?”

You blush, “that’s not important!”

“I’d beg to differ.”

You roll your eyes, moving to flick his forehead like you used to always do when the two of you were young after he’d say something to annoy you.

He lets you.

Momentarily allowing himself to bask in the familiarity it brings him. Allowing himself to pretend, if just for a moment, that everything was the same as it had been before. That the medals around your necks are the ones you won together. That you’re still just kids with big dreams instead of young adults with the pressure of the world on your backs.

He gives you a pout and an over exaggerated wince in pain.

You roll your eyes before leaning in to kiss his forehead.

He blushes brightly in response.

Luckily, you don’t seem to notice as you quickly pull away, preoccupied with your own blush, “oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! I should’ve asked before doing that! I was just so caught up in the moment and forgot to ask.”

“It’s okay,” Loki says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound strained.

You tilt your head to the side cutely, “yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Loki smiles, “it was like back when we were young. You flick my head when you’re annoyed and then lean in to kiss it better because you feel bad about flicking me in the first place.”

“Gosh,” you pout, “you make me sound bipolar.”

“I mean, if the shoe fits~”

“Julian!”

“Sorry,” he flashes you an unapologetic smile.

“Well anyways, thanks for walking back with me.”

“No problem.”

The bright lights of the hotel glow in the distance. The idle chatter of the city distracts you while Loki finds himself hating the fast walking pace he had initially set wishing to have walked with you for a little longer. You yourself also have a tendency to walk faster than normal and Loki’s always liked that about you but right now finds himself wishing the two of you had for once chosen to take your time. That you had stopped to admire the roses for a moment and appreciate the moment you lived in rather than charging forward without a second thought.

But, Loki supposes, there’s always something that must be sacrificed if one hopes to achieve greatness.

He brushes the back of his hand against yours which causes you to turn to him.

He thinks that maybe, right now, he’ll allow himself a moment of reprieve. Even if it might lead to nothing. The words slip from his mouth before they can even form in his mind.

“By the way,” Loki cleared his throat, watching you with a serious look on his face as he walked you back home, “I think I love you.”

Fall in love with someone you haven’t seen in awhile.

---

Him: There’s no universe or timeline where I don’t love you.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #julian loki x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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sgiandubh · 3 days

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I'm interested to know whether you came to enjoy Greek music during your many years living in Greece. Do you have any favorite Greek artists or songs that you'd be willing to share? I always enjoy your posts about Greece and all your travel stories for that matter 🙂

Dear Greek Music Anon,

This is a beautiful question and you have made my day: thank you for asking and come back whenever you want, whoever you are - you are always, always welcome!

If you think Greek music is just this...

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... then you are touristically biased, Anon. And that is ok, to some extent and not really your fault, because this is exactly what they will have you listen to, when you make the childish mistake to book that Greek Evening on your cruise or tour. For some unfathomable reason, this is what they imagine foreign guests should be shown. But then there is music for their and their friends' souls, something completely different and a whole universe to discover.

This is Greek music to me, Anon:

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The best Greek female voice of all times (Callas does not count, for innumerable reasons, we do not discuss a Goddess), Our Lady of the Rebetiko: Haris (it means Grace, by the way) Alexiou. A true Dame Blanche, witty, warm and rightfully worshipped. When I was first introduced to her, I was so moved I almost couldn't open my mouth in awe. I was stupidly glued to my French formulaic praise and I remember I just mumbled something along the lines of 'eh merde alors, fuck it, I just wanted you to know that to me, you are not only the voice of my teenage years: you are the Voice of Time itself'. She laughed and the rest is, as they say, history.

This happened in November 2018, after one of her concerts at the Gazarte hall in Athens: a dificult comeback for her, after a cancer scare. We were very moved and fangirling AF, my Culture and Press colleague (remember her from the Mycenae story? Greek music made us instant friends - I was the only one to know what she was talking about) and I:

I have blurred my former colleague's face. I am not sure she wants to be seen on Tumblr, LOL. And see, Anon? I really look like an overwhelmed twat, in this pic. Chances are I'd look the same at Landcon 2025 (what was the last price, 149 euros? Sweet Baby Jesus, the results).

Haroula's one time lover (speculation is still rife and many shipped those two during the late Eighties and early Nineties, unaware it was completely true) and probably the Greek equivalent of Sinatra is George Dalaras. A., my colleague, is absolutely nuts about him and as such a big, boisterous presence in this man's fandom. She follows him just about everywhere (I didn't understand her and residually still don't, to be honest), so it's not a surprise I quickly got to meet the guy, after one of his extraordinary stunts at the Klimataria, a well-known tavern and rebetiko joint smack dab in downtown Athens (I think it was one week before I met and befriended Haroula, funny that):

Now, he looks like a banker. But back in 1993, he looked and sang like this:

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This is his greatest hit, if you ask me. Βαμμένα Κόκκινα Μαλλιά (Dyed Red Hair) is the score of a very successful Greek TV series during the Nineties (don't ask, it's very syrupy) and legit one of the most beautiful Greek love songs ever written. But unlike A, I am completely chilled as far as Dalaras is concerned and I think it showed, when we met. He offered an autograph and I said no, just because I am completely dumb, like that. The trouble is, he gently remembered me and he always brought it up every single time we met (at a couple of events and receptions) - how's that for totally embarrassing, eh?

And then you have the opera divas, among which is my dear friend Sonia Theodoridou, one of the best Greek sopranos after Callas. Sonia came back to Athens after a rich career in Germany right in the middle of the economic crisis turmoil. Things were not easy for her and I have to say, bless her heart, she is not an easy person, either (which opera singer is, mind you?). But her voice is magical and she loves to play with it. See what she can do with a really meh song, written and successfully performed by Pandelis Pandelidis, the one-time local Justin Bieber (he unfortunately died in 2016, in a motorcycle accident):

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The strange instrument you see in the clip is a Cretan lyra, by the way. I hate it with a passion. But I still love Sonia, no matter what.

We shared a lot of things, Sonia and I. Here is our first pic, together with her ex-husband, Theodoros (still a friend):

These people are those I personally know and like/love. I haven't told you anything yet about the formidable, mythical Maria Farantouri, Mikis Theodorakis' muse or Vicky Moscholiou, another diva (different niche, though). Nothing about Miltos Paschalidis, either, the mathematician turned singer or Alkinoos Ioannidis, perhaps the best Cypriot voice after George Michael. The only reason I won't, for now at least, is that I don't really like mammoth posts. And this is quickly turning into one of those.

But I digressed. You asked me about my favorite Greek song, Anon. It's Manos Hatzidakis' Kemal - a masterpiece with a strong, subversive political message in the guise of an Oriental cruel parable:

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Do I know it by heart? Of course I do (and I always, always cry, because I am a sentimental idiot, like that). Singing along with the locals at concerts, in taverns, in your car, on that bus ride, is a mandatory part of the Greek experience. And the most heartfelt homage you can pay to all those wonderful men and women who make our world a brighter, better place.

#anon #travels #Greece #diplomatic life

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abarbaricyalp · 21 hours

Text

Written for the @sambuckylibrary Anniversary Event! Y'all don't even know how many of these "no-power" stories I started for this prompt. Instead I hunkered down and finished one of my favorite (and oldest) WIPs (What is the life of a writer, if not creating four WIPs for every one finished?)

CW: blood and injury There is also glib discussion of limb loss by Bucky throughout.

Yeah the title is from that one poster. You know the one.

Hanging In There 🐱

Bucky Barnes was very good at free climbing. (Yes, even with the prosthetic arm, thank you very much, terrible-gym-trainer.) Mostly because he'd taken up free climbing after he was situated with the arm. It had become his ongoing PT and his proof of freedom. Once he'd gone a few months without flattening himself on the gym floor, everyone in his life (so, his sister Becca and his best friend Steve) finally left him alone when he was doing other things. So long as he could scale rock walls, he could do his own grocery shopping.

He got as much of a kick out of watching people's reactions to him climb with a prosthesis as he did from watching them finally work up the courage to tentatively ask if he lost his arm climbing. His answer changed depending on what mood he was in or the elevation he'd stopped at if he was outside. "Sure, it got caught in a rock shift. I had to cut it off with a pocket knife." "Yeah, I put my hand in a hole and got bitten by some poisonous reptile. Lost the whole thing." "Actually I fell off a cliff and ripped the whole thing off when I tried to get some purchase on the way down." He'd lost it in the line of duty overseas, but nosy people always managed to miss the dog tags around his neck.

The point was, Bucky was really good at free climbing. He'd been doing it for years now. He thought he knew his body better now than he did when he joined up with the military in the first place.

This was all his cat's fault.

No, that wasn't fair. This was all some other cat's fault. Some street cat rascal had gotten Alpine pregnant and Bucky was just trying to see who it was. Plus maybe figure out who was so irresponsible to let their cat roam. And, no. Alpine getting out to meet with this cat Casanova was not the same thing as someone being irresponsible because she slipped out the window by knocking the plastic accordion of the window AC unit out of the way. Bucky hadn't let her out. He was not an intentionally irresponsible cat dad. He was just a new cat dad. Who even knew he’d have to cat-proof window units?

He'd been watching her ever since he'd found out she was pregnant. He fully planned on following her to whatever back alley she met Tom O'Malley in. When Alpine had climbed out his window and perched on the wide railing of his balcony, he'd figured she was going to jump down the fire escape to the ground and carry on. Instead, she walked across the narrow decorative ledge of his building and he...

Well, he followed on instinct. That was the plan, right? Follow his cat to the culprit?

He could not stress how much he wasn't thinking in the moment.

The building wasn't that tall. He was on the fourth floor and the bottom floor was only a half floor. Still, Bucky wasn't imagining the wind tugging at his clothes as he crept along the narrow ledge after Alpine, who was not doing anything to wait for Bucky.

"Al," he hissed, making a small jump from the end of one apartment's ledge to the next. He knew his neighbor and hoped she wasn't home. She wasn't usually but his luck was not cooperating today. "Al, get back here. You had your fun night. I'm over this."

Bucky skirted across the neighbor's balcony and onto the next ledge. This one was a little different, wider but more broken up into pieces. More like a rock wall. The only problem was that there were no decorative pieces at hand level. And he wasn't wearing his prosthetic arm. If he missed a step or one of these bricks gave way, he was definitely falling.

Alpine gracefully jumped down a floor, using a drain pipe to launch herself sideways onto someone's balcony.

"Alpine!" Bucky called with a new wave of frustration. The balcony was close enough that Bucky could probably make the jump. It would be mostly falling anyway. He could land on the railing and stumble his way forward.

The only problem would be that he'd definitely alert whoever was in the apartment and he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk, or climb, his way out of that conversation. He crept closer to the other balcony, eyeing the drop and wishing he'd worn better shoes. He was just as liable to break an ankle as he was to miss the balcony.

Alpine pawed at the sliding door of the balcony and a black-and-white cat appeared on the other side of it, used its head to nudge the door open. Alpine and the cat rubbed heads and then disappeared into the apartment together.

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky asked the wind.

He looked down at the street below, thankful they weren't on the busy side of the building. Then again, that meant it was less likely someone would see him flatten himself and therefore less likely someone would call for help.

There were not many times in his climbing journey that he felt the need to leap from one spot to the other. Sure, the occasional shift a foot or so to a different grip hold, but not like this. He braced his feet against the ledge, testing his weight out and shifting it forward.

He leapt without thinking about it anymore than that.

When he crashed through the balcony, his brain was very confused about what happened. He'd hit something solid. He was still falling. His knee ached. His other knee was in his face. Something was soaking through his sock and shoes.

He realized his forearm was flat against the balcony and he tried to lift himself up, out of the hole he’d put in the wooden floor. But he couldn’t make his legs follow commands, couldn’t free the one stuck on the wood, being held up at an odd angle by his jeans, couldn’t swing the other one back to make momentum. Then the pain really set in, along with some panic. Bucky couldn't right himself, couldn't sit, could barely move, all of which meant he couldn't take stock of what was happening around him. His leg hurt. The pain was soaking into his brain until he couldn't think about anything else.

Then, to add insult to injury, the most beautiful man Bucky had ever seen came running out the door to the balcony and almost tripped over him. The cats followed him out. Alpine, the traitor, didn't even look concerned.

"What the hell?" his neighbor asked. Belatedly, Bucky saw the baseball bat in his hand. And, like, one that had been used in the field of play and left no comforting possibility that the man wouldn't actually use it on him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, right now, I'm just hanging out," Bucky answered without knowing where the sarcasm came from since most of his brain was focused on the terror that he was about to lose his leg too.

"Are you trying to break in?" the man asked and curled his fingers around the bat again.

"Me, rob you?" Bucky asked in disbelief. "That's my cat that you're clearly trying to steal," he argued with a nod to Alpine. "And your terrible Tom got her pregnant on top of it!"

"That's your cat?" the man asked. "Do you ever pay attention to her? She's here all the time. I posted ‘Found: Cat’ posters downstairs and didn't get a response."

"You did not!" Bucky snapped. "Can you just..." He gestured to the fact that he was continually slipping further through the hole he'd crashed through in the balcony. Or...no. He did this. He crashed a hole through someone's balcony. Could this day get any worse?

The man tossed the bat inside and the cats disappeared after the noise to investigate. He kneeled beside Bucky, holding onto his elbow and maneuvering Bucky around to peer through the hole.

"Your leg is pretty torn up," he warned. "I think it's best if I just call for an ambulance. I don't want to agitate any wounds. I have gauze but not extra blood."

It took Bucky too long to realize that was a joke. Hopefully. "Come on, man. Just help me up. I'll be fine."

"You are literally dripping blood onto the next balcony," the man insisted. And then he seemed to realize his hand was flat on Bucky's ribs and not on his left arm. He blanched and his wide eyes met Bucky's.

"Don't worry," Bucky assured. "It was missing before I jumped. It disappeared on me earlier."

To his credit, the neighbor's shock switched to vaguely irked in a single breath and without any follow up questions. He looked at Bucky's leg again and heaved out a long suffering sigh before disappearing into the apartment again.

Alpine and her paramour took the man's place in the doorway, watching Bucky with a pitying and disdainful look, respectively. "This is your fault," Bucky told Alpine. Or maybe the black and white cat. Really, it was that cat's fault.

The neighbor came back with an armful of supplies, including some really nice 2x4s that he laid across the balcony, balancing them on the unimpaired metal frame. He also had a medical kit that needed a duffle bag to be lugged around.

"Were you military?" Bucky asked.

The neighbor startled a little and his fingers passed over what Bucky could assume was an insignia patch on the other side of the bag. "Yeah, Air Force. Pararescue. Sam, by the way. You?"

"Army. Bucky," Bucky said. "Not in that order."

"Explains the whole--" Sam gestured to his left side.

"Well, if you figured that out on your own, how am I supposed to test out my new stories on you?"

Sam shook his head as he laid out a variety of supplies just inside the threshold of his apartment. "You and my partner would've gotten along. He had this scar on his face. Dog bite when he was a kid. But he made up stories all the livelong day about it."

"You get tired of the truth eventually," Bucky explained. "It's never good enough for anyone anyway."

Sam glanced over at him, brown eyes a little calculating for a moment. But he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he got his hands on Bucky's ribs again. "You need to help me here. I don't have a lot of leverage and we're gonna be fighting against the splintered boards."

Bucky nodded and braced his forearm against one of the boards Sam had brought out. Despite his concerns, Sam was just about strong enough to pull Bucky free on his own, which was both mortifying and also incredibly hot. Pieces of the balcony clattered to the one below as Bucky pulled his legs up behind him.

The pain started as soon as he was sure he was safely on the 2x4s. He hissed and reached for his knee like he could stave off the pain signals that way.

"Do you mind if I cut your jeans away?" Sam asked. "Just the legs. You can keep your modesty."

"I have no dignity left, so go for it," Bucky sighed. He leaned back against the railing of the balcony and watched Sam carefully cut through his favorite jeans. His leg was a gross, bloody mess but it didn't make Bucky flinch and Sam didn't flinch either. He imagined they’d both seen much worse.

"You should go to the hospital," Sam repeated as he cleared some blood away. He had nice fingers, Bucky realized, instead of listening to his admonishments. They were almost long enough to wrap around Bucky's calf and he was so sure with his movements as he wiped Bucky's leg down with a concentrate of alcohol that was definitely higher than what they sold at the bodega. His nails were maintained, but still a little dirty and rough from work. Like the rest of him: just effortlessly endearing and gorgeous.

"Why do you have random pieces of wood in your apartment?" he asked finally as Sam began to wrap bandages around his knee.

Sam looked down at his temporary floor. "I was going to redo the balcony. So, thanks for this, I guess.”

Bucky gave a lazy kind of wave and then dropped his arm over his eyes. “This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my day either. I can help you with repairs. Pay for whatever else you need.”

“That’s more helpful than the maintenance guys have been,” Sam said. “I told them all this wood was rotten.”

“Yeah, you shoulda seen how long it took them to come look at my sink drain. I was scooping it out and pouring it down the shower for months,” Bucky agreed.

Sam groaned in sympathy, but didn’t look up from where he was now searching for large splinters. He had eyelashes longer than Bucky’s forearm, it seemed like. And cheekbones that were made to be seen from this angle. Of all the balconies in New York that he could’ve crashed on, why did he have to embarrass himself in front of a model?

Nah, even better than a model. Real and handsome and touchable.

“Wait, did you say partner?” Bucky asked suddenly.

Sam’s long eyelashes fluttered as he looked up and graced Bucky with those eyes again. “What? I didn’t say anything”

“No, earlier. You said your partner has a scar on their face.”

“Oh. Yeah. Riley,” Sam said and closed up a little bit.

“Are they going to be mad that there’s a stranger stuck in your balcony?”

“You’re not stuck anymore,” Sam pointed out. “I just don’t want you to bleed in my apartment.” He ran another cloth soaked with alcohol across Bucky’s leg and then pulled out a huge roll of gauze. “Riley was my flight partner in the Air Force. I mean. He was my partner-partner too. But I don’t think he’s gonna have much to say about you breaking the balcony.”

“Oh. You broke up,” Bucky surmised. “I just thought… The way you talked about him so easily… Sorry,” he added.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him but just gestured for Bucky to hold the edge of the gauze against his leg and proceeded to give Bucky the tightest, most fine wrapped bandages of Bucky’s life. They hadn’t done this well with bandages after he lost his arm.

“God, you were like rescue-pararescue,” Bucky said, like an idiot. What did that even mean. “I mean, we all got triage training, but you’re actually good at it.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, it was part of the job,” he agreed. He tapped off the gauze and then stood, making sure to step inside his apartment before letting himself sit back on his full weight.

Bucky leaned back a little and stared up at him. This was a fantastic angle.

“Come on, give me your hand,” he said, offering his down to Bucky. “Gotta get you off the balcony before my downstairs neighbor really starts to wonder what’s going on.”

Bucky took Sam’s hand and let him pull him to his feet, hopping over off the balcony to the apartment flooring. Only, as soon as he put his weight on his unhurt leg, that leg entirely went out from him. He fell against Sam’s chest and both he and Sam reached for the couch behind them to keep from falling over. The couch scooted back another inch, but it held steady after.

Bucky stared at Sam’s mouth because he was at the exact right level for it. But Sam was staring at him too, dark eyes wide, breath warm over Bucky’s face. His hand was on Bucky’s waist.

“Uh…I think I hurt my ankle too,” Bucky offered.

Sam took half a step backwards, scooting the couch again to do so, and helped Bucky find his unstable footing. Bucky balanced on one foot and his toes. Then Sam sank down to one knee and Bucky basically lost all coherent brain function entirely. He lifted Bucky’s pant leg and then sucked in a breath so sharply, the air whistled through the gap in his front teeth.

“Yeah, man. I think you broke it,” he confirmed. “You really need to go to the hospital.”

Bucky groaned and hobbled around Sam to lean on his couch. “It really looks that bad?”

“Are you attached to these shoes?” he asked.

“Yeah, kinda. Why?” They were just Vans, but he hated spending money on shoes (unless they were good boots, or dance shoes).

“Because your shoe may need to be cut off with the way the ankle’s swelling.”

Bucky dropped his head back and groaned like that was going to solve anything. It didn’t really matter. He’d seen how messy the other one had gotten from the blood, so it’s not like he was keeping this pair anyway. When he lifted his head again, Sam was standing there, looking like he was waiting on Bucky for something.

Bucky put on his best pathetic wet cat eyes. “Any chance you drive?” he asked. “I really don’t want to call an ambulance. You know VA insurance doesn’t cover shit.”

Sam’s eyebrow rose. “A man ruins my balcony, bleeds all over my things, accuses my cat of getting his cat pregnant–in fact, accuses me of stealing his cat–and now he wants to ask a favor after I stopped him from bleeding out or falling to his further grisly demise,” he summarized.

“A man will take you out to dinner?” Bucky offered. “As many times as you like?”

Sam stared at him for a moment longer before he relented. “I have discerning tastes,” he warned. “It’s gonna take a while for you to find a place that’s good enough.”

Bucky read directly into that and he grinned, triumphant. “Well, I have very good tastes,” he said. “But I’m gonna start off shitty just to keep you coming back.”

Sam rolled his beautiful eyes, but he was smiling and if Bucky liked his face before, he really loved it when he was smiling. “I’ll take you to the hospital, but don’t expect me to sit there and wait.”

“I think you should,” Bucky tempted. As he watched Sam gather his keys–and, fuck, Bucky’s door was locked and his keys were inside, he was going to have to call Steve to bring the extra–he limped to the door. The promise of Sam coming behind him was enough to keep the pain from taking up too many of his thoughts. Sam was firmly entrenched there.

“Why’s that?” Sam asked. He opened the door for Bucky and ushered him out.

“Because when they ask me what happened and I tell them I fell for the most beautiful man in the world, I’m gonna need the proof.”

“Oh my God,” Sam groaned, rolling his eyes again and smiling even brighter. “I should’ve checked you for a concussion. Lemme make sure your pupils aren't actually heart-shaped right now.”

“This is a perfectly normal reaction to fate literally throwing you into my life,” Bucky defended.

“Fate threw you into mine,” Sam corrected. “You’re the one who fell out of the sky like an omen.”

“An omen?” Bucky asked, affronted. “An angel.”

“Definitely not.”

They waited for the elevator in silence for a few seconds, Bucky leaning on Sam’s side to take some weight off of his leg. Then, just as the elevator dinged its approach, Sam said, “By the way, you're wrong about my cat. He's been fixed for years. Some other cat got your cat pregnant."

Bucky almost missed the elevator as he stared at Sam, who had stepped into it, in shock. Sam caught the door and Bucky quickly followed him in. “This was all for nothing? Why was she in your apartment?”

“I told you, she comes all the time. I think she likes Fig’s food. Besides,” Sam nudged an elbow into Bucky’s side. “I wouldn’t say it was for nothing.”

“‘Cause we met each other?” Bucky finished for him with a pleased grin. “Givin’ me all the warm and fuzzies, Sam.”

“Nah, ‘cause now I’ve got a reason to finally start on my balcony. And some volunteer guilt labor too.” He clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and hit the button for the garage level. “We’ll see about anything else fate might have gifted us later.”

Who knew, Bucky wondered, that fate was a cat.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #captain america #sambucky fanfic #the falcon and the winter soldier #writing #tfatws

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scaredshadowsswap · 1 day

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(I hope my English is as understandable as possible) I'm embarrassed to ask this but I was constantly asked how the SCP staff would react If they meet an androgynous person for the first time D:

Your english was great! I actually have a lot of ideas for this at the moment, but this is the first time I’ve gotten a request, so it might not come out right. I wrote this generally as the non-binary or genderfluid type of androgynous, but I think it applies just the same to people who just look androgynous :)

Clef:

Clef is probably pretty understanding, but that doesn’t make you exempt from one-liners that cross the line. I imagine Clef will make a lot of pop-culture references, so there’ll be no direct insults, but you may be called the names of famous androgynous people. Be prepared to answer to Annie Lennox or Boy George at least once. No matter your identity, he’ll call you the name of whoever your hair is closest to. Since you’re the first androgynous person Clef meets, you’ll be hearing it a lot, since he has no one else to tease. However, Clef’s insults are not reflective of their opinions, because Clef insults everyone. I think he’d almost like working with an androgynous person more? To Clef, your appearance would be a plus in certain field ops and Foundation situations, so Clef’d probably want you on their MTF.

If you work directly under Clef, he’d be fun and terrifying, just like normal. He’d definitely have an issue with anyone who made fun of your appearance and was serious about their comments, but he’d find a roundabout way of scarring them mentally for life :)

Kondraki:

If it was just seeing you in passing, Kondraki wouldn’t care. If it was working with you, I don’t even know if he’d notice. Kondraki is notoriously bad at names, which makes me think he’s probably also not great at faces. He seems like the type of guy who would take 4 months to notice your hair is firetruck red, so I wouldn’t worry about Kondraki at all. He only cares about if you are hardworking, if you’ll do his paperwork for him, and if you’ll change the coffee filter.

That being said, you’re the first androgynous person Kondraki is meeting. Since you look different from most of the people he works with, he’d probably love taking pictures of you because you’re a unique muse for photos.

Iceberg:

Iceberg will absolutely open the conversation with an insult about your appearance. How you respond will determine how he views you, almost like he was testing you. For best results, answer calmly, confidently, and do not reply with another insult, as he seems quite sensitive. His “Why do you look so weird?” would best be countered with a simple “I don’t know, but I like it!” or something along those lines. He will probably roll his eyes and not say anything else, but he will speak to you again in the future. However, I don’t think Iceberg would have an issue with you looking androgynous at all. I think he’s lacking a filter, and will say whatever pops to mind in a sort of mean way. He was simply acknowledging that you look different to what he is used to, but I think he’d like the style. If you end up becoming friends, he may begin to emulate aspects of your style. He would definitely gift you a scarf sometime to see you you’d style it so he could copy it for future reference.

Gears:

Gears is a short one because he wouldn’t care, or at least, he wouldn’t let anyone know. He is cold, reserved, and respectful, and treats you exactly the same as he treats most researchers. Even if you were working directly below him and he got closer to you, I don’t think he’d acknowledge your appearance except to tie it back to work. “Your hair is a mess, I suggest sleeping at your apartment tonight instead of on a couch” or something like that. Never a comment he wouldn’t make to someone else. However, I think he’d compliment you if you ever changed your hair/makeup/wardrobe, so he definitely notices and thinks positively of it.

Shaw:

Shaw would LOVE it. She’s been genderfluid for a very long time due to 963, so it would probably be a shock to them when they saw a person who looked gender-neutral and/or androgynous. But, it would be a pleasant surprise. He’d probably invite you to tea sometime or some sort of poker event, but you two are besties for the resties.

Shaw would definitely confide in you about their issues related to 963 very quickly, but they’re a decent judge of character and wouldn’t overwhelm you with their struggles. She will absolutely recruit you into her pranks, and sometimes play some on you.

Rights:

Rights would also love you, but it’s because she’d have so many ideas. She’s fashionable, and would have so much fun giving you ideas, whether it be for an everyday casual office outfit, or a formal suit or dress. If you worked directly with Rights, she’d be very low drama with you.

Glass:

Glass is a therapist, so he’ll probably be pretty happy to see that you are doing something that makes you comfortable. He might be able to give you advice on how to deal with some other staff who aren’t as accepting. Glass is a pretty short one because I can’t imagine him caring about your appearance past making sure that you felt comfortable in your skin.

Strelnikov:

Strelnikov…He’s from Russia. I think of Kondraki as traditional, but Kondraki is from Massachusetts, and Strelnikov is actually from Russia, and I think it would take him some time to get used to it. He calls all the male nurses “babies”, so I wouldn’t expect very much from this man.

If you’re hoping for any respect from him, you’ve already raised your standards too high. He may try to pull your records to find your sex at birth, he may snoop through your apartment, but he will not play fair or kindly. He might make comments about it, but at the very least, he won’t talk about you behind your back. Every comment he ever makes about you will be to your face. He might come around…three years later…

#agent strelnikov #dr alto clef #doctor kondraki #scp #scp fandom #scp headcanons #scp foundation #dr rights #dr gears #dr iceberg #dr kondraki #dr shaw #dr glass

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erabundus · 5 months

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HAPPY BLOG ANNIVERSARY!

it's officially midnight here, which means i'm allowed to post this! so ... happy one year anniversary of enduring the plague of avalon upon your dashboards! alternatively, thank you so much for giving me a place to babble about my #1 favorite comfort character who has experienced zero comfort. ( i swear i am being SO NORMAL about this. yes i did literally buy cake and party hats. ) whether we speak on the daily, you've just gotten here or anywhere in between, i want to extend my sincerest gratitude for being on this absolutely wild ride of a blog with me. there's been ups and downs, but ultimately i feel like my passion for writing has been ignited stronger than it's ever been before. i am still always so excited whenever i get the chance to log on here and create stories with all of you — and i wouldn't have that opportunity if it wasn't for this little corner of the internet you've helped make truly special.

there are so many of you i feel lucky to have met. ( and so many i would love to get to know better, too! ) i hope we can continue writing together for many more anniversaries to come. and if the day ever comes that they finally pull the plug on this cockroach of a hellsite, i'll forever remember this community as the rpc that got me to laugh at petrichor.

have a wonderful day / night! i'm sharing the cake with everyone in spirit.

#𝟎𝟎𝟏 : 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. ◟ ooc .◝#( i struggle sometimes because i know i tend to hide behind my muses / headcanons / ic posts --#because i am honestly just so bad about talking about / as myself & i think part of it has to do with me being really nervous / awkward )#( we all love ye olde social anxiety & the myriad of ways it manifests etc etc )#( but!! i just wanted to do / say something silly because i really do appreciate you all so much )#( even if we don't actively talk / write imagine me liking your posts as a little high five of appreciation for what you create here )#( this blog & rpc have helped me grow so much both as a writer and as a person. )#( having a place to express my interests & meet other people with similar interests has had such a positive effect on my life )#( i'm making plans to meet my best friend in person one day and it's only happening because i made this account & reblogged a gifset )#( yes it's sappy but i really do mean every word )

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seoafin · 7 months

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ok i will preface this by saying i have JUST recently discovered the ripverse (i am kicking my legs giggling twirling a phone cord reading all the asks and like. supplementals you’ve posted/people have sent in though have NO fear) but something about how rip!mc was supposed to die at 16 but was saved by love really stuck with me. and i think this is kinda similar to what the other anon said (hi) but i also never felt like i was meant to live long like not even through anything tragic just like. i could not picture a future for myself! and high school was desolate enough as is but no one i knew there could picture me having a future either which did not help things. so i kinda drifted through just in the back of my head knowing i was gonna be gone soon and being okay with that. and then i went to college and i met my friends and my ex and i’ve never mentioned it to them and idk if i will bc the feeling isn’t completely gone but just through existing in my life they did kinda save me. or at least made me consider myself as a permanent living thing and that life wasn’t just something happening to me but was my actually life. and idk if this makes sense but i love the idea of being saved by love and how people really can have such a positive impact sometimes without even knowing it. like what is the point to anything if not to love and be loved. and i think being saved by it kinda exemplifies that perfectly. anyway thank you for writing the ripverse and through that giving me a reason to ramble about love <3

me sobbing and blowing my nose into a tissue: i-it's about l-l-l-love.....

#WAHHHHHH #im so happy you found people! life really is about the people you meet and the connections you make!#i can't imagine living a life without the people i regard as my friends i truly think friendship and companionship and love saved me #and i try the best to convey the sentiment whenever i can #also i was also definitely a late bloomer i met my best friend in hs but i didn't really have more than one friend until college!#i met one of my closest friends my junior year and a group of people my senior year and a bunch of ppl during my program in japan!#idk...it really is about love you know. people just existing can have such a big impact on your life like even now i can't believe #that out of all the people that were born all the decisions all the different ways life could've turned out #i got to meet all the people in my life not to sound sappy but it actually makes me believe in miracles <3 #anyway thank u for rambling about love in my inbox i appreciate you so much #f

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michaeljoncarter · 1 year

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conner: will me and mon ever get to see each other again? 🥺🥺🥺

reep, thinking about that time in the pastfuture where amnesiac 90s mon somehow ended up becoming a prize fighter for a random mobster, cutting the sleeves out of all his shirts, and running off to beat conner's ass on live tv before almost dying of lead poisoning in his arms: ......... time will tell.

#conner kent #mon el #reading these 2 arcs back to back is sooo funny #the difference between their first meetings pre & post infinite crisis. good lord #in the 2000s it's like 'buddy you're my best friend <3 i love you so much <3'#and then in the 90s it's like 'buddy i'm about to ruin your life in the most fucked up ways you can possibly imagine'#adventure comics (2009) 11

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swordsandholly · 11 days

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Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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