#tried to make it short-ish so it doesn’t take forever to answer

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

What does Éminence Grise's Darkling think of Alina?

OMG idk if it’s a formatting error or a tumblr glitch but the bold is killing me So we have established that this is not a formatting error and actually I love that more 😂😂

I find this surprisingly difficult to answer, because I keep falling back on describing the relationship/how he actually treats Alina as opposed to his thoughts. His thoughts are trickier to articulate because he has multiple levels of bias going on.

The fic is set an ambiguous number of years after when S&B takes place but with the big difference that the stag never was in imminent danger of being found and therefore Baghra never did the thing. Alina never ran away, and they never had a big gloves off, falling out.

A lot of my typical interpretation of Alarkling as a ship, and how I view his feelings about her, hinge on him having preconceived expectations that don’t really match her personality. But I do think, as the series progresses, who she really is and how that surprises and confounds him, solidifies their dynamic and does make him more wretchedly obsessed lol. There’s some cognitive dissonance between the sort of white knuckle control he wants, and what he actually responds to as a person.

This fic is basically a scenario where he’s been able to get to know her under far less dramatic circumstances, and has had several years to try to force her into his preferred mold. And before the actual events of the fic, I think he’s basically been as successful as he can possibly get?

His standards are simply unattainable, and he’s baseline moody and inconsistent, but he has pretty much eroded nearly all of her boundaries. She is entirely emotionally dependent on him, though she’s mostly content to let him be cold to her and keep her at arm’s length. His values are the main standard she holds herself to— both simply because they are his, and his good opinion is practically the only one that matters to her, but over time she has genuinely absorbed a lot of his opinions. She appears to be fully content to remain within the constraints of the power dynamics of their relationship, where she’s basically forever a pupil learning at his feet. If they disagree— which they basically have not in any material way, they’re fighting in the story rn but it’s not really been disagreement— she’s learned to capitulate and assume she’s incorrect. Their primary conflicts stem from his inconsistency and temper, which she’s learned to mostly just wait out.

So in short, he thinks the relationship is going great! Or at least that it has been until the engagement nonsense that will obviously blow over soon. (lol. lmao)

Moving past their dynamic in practice to what he actually thinks of her, I think he primarily thinks of her, very simply, as his. That possessive element is the defining aspect. She’s his like girlfriend-protégée, diamond in the rough who isn’t anywhere near her final state yet. She’s only in her malleable first century or whatever, like she barely even counts as a fully formed person yet ajdjfhffd

He likes her, and has genuine rapport with her— I think that’s something that exists in canon. And while I cannot speak to the success of it, I’ve definitely tried to write them here with a lot of genuine familiarity and intimacy. I think he’s already pretty damn emotionally compromised, but from his own point of view he’d only really allow that he’s fond of her and feels indulgent of her youth/willfulness/silliness etc. But at the end of the day, he mostly thinks of her as something that is his to mold.

She asks him in one of the recent-ish chapters whether her feelings matter to him, and… basically they do not tbh. She has been literally trying to break up with him for multiple chapters and her input matters little enough that he’s not even actually registering it!

What he’s responding negatively to is more that she’s acting in ways he doesn’t like, that she seems genuinely invested in her engagement, and that she’s actually holding a grudge when he treats her poorly. She’s also completely correct in surmising that he’s so cold to her mostly because he is feeling jealous, and insecure, and wants to hurt her just to know that he can, as proof that she loves him and can be hurt by him. He’s only comfortable with a dynamic that’s dramatically in his favor. So being on any sort of emotionally even footing, let alone uneven in her favor, where he would be the one feeling jealous, results in him lashing out at her to “get even.”

But he’s not genuinely internalizing that she wants to end their relationship, that that is something she can even do or have a say in. He just doesn’t take it seriously enough to even get mad about it.

Anyway, this is something that’s not really specified in canon, and seems to be easy to interpret either way, but Grisha longevity seems to hinge on how much power they have. And S&B seems to imply Alina actually isn’t that powerful before the amplifiers. So for the purposes of this fic, to lean into the fundamentally transformative nature of his designs on her, Alina isn’t immortal on her own, and they both know this. Without the stag, she could have a, not necessarily ordinary, but at least uh… fathomable life, that’s probably somewhat long lived, but not anything that’s unheard of for Grisha. But he’s planning to elevate her to basically an immortal, unknowable state, that is going to inherently cut her off from all former, mortal, peers— because he also assumes there’s no merit in forming any real attachments if everyone you know will die in the blink of an eye. I don’t think Alina would necessarily reach that conclusion? But we’re talking about what he thinks.

Meanwhile, I want to stress that immortality has not been a particularly positive experience for him! He might think it’s genuinely an honor to elevate someone like that, that she should be grateful for it, but it’s also not not a cruel act, even from his own perspective. And that’s of course not even getting into how he very much stil intends to kill the stag himself so that he can take control of the amplifier, and her power.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #alarkling #darklina #all the bendy punctuations #a mysterious stranger has appeared #i ramble sometimes #meta #I guess #of my own fic 🙃 #éminence grise #long post

[liliamoon]

✧ OC Asks Part II ✧

Since my original asks post did so well, I decided to make a second part. Feel free to answer these yourself, or ask someone else! Have fun!

Part I: https://liliamoon.tumblr.com/post/662398743322279936/oc-asks

1. What are your OC’s best and worst qualities? What do they think are their best and worst qualities?

2. Is there a meaning behind their name, or a particular reason why they have it? (either in the story, or why you as the author decided to give them their name)

3. What does their voice sound like, in a couple of words? (ie soft, scratchy, seductive, high-pitched, etc)

4. Do they have any underlying motivations? (ie they seem hard-working but secretly just don’t want to fall back into poverty, etc)

5. Does their fashion sense reflect an aspect of their personality? (ie bright and colorful outfits symbolizing that they’re an upbeat person)

6. Do they have any tattoos? What are they, and why did they get them?

7. What is their biggest insecurity?

8. What is their coping mechanism?

9. What is their main love language? (gifts, quality time, acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation)

10. What is their MBTI type?

11. What kind of person are they most compatible with? (platonic or romantic)

12. How do they feel about romantic relationships? Are they into casual flings or more serious, long-term romances? Or are they uninterested?

13. What are their views on marriage? If they want to get married, what would their dream wedding be like?

14. How is their relationship with their family? Which family member are they closest to?

15. Has their personality changed at all since they were a child? Why?

16. How do other characters in the story view them?

17. How many hours of sleep does your OC get on average?

18. Where do they see themself in ten years?

19. If they had a theme song, what would it be?

20. What AU would they belong in the best?

#tried to make it short-ish so it doesn’t take forever to answer #it probably still takes forever tho oof sorry #ask game #ask meme #character design #ask prompt #writeblr #character writing #writing ocs #oc prompt #oc questions #character ideas #original character #writing prompt #tag your oc #oc ask meme #original character tag #character tag

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spiderman #marvel #peter parker angst

[ssahoodrathotchner]

Pictures of You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: memory loss, swearing, some angst, hospital, talk of injuries, team shenanigans and fluff

A/N: okay this was a lot of fun to write bc soft!Hotch rights !! also really wanted to make the team play a larger role in a fic so here we go :)

Masterlist

---

You wake in a hospital bed, Morgan by your side, and a godawful pounding in your cloudy head. With a groan, you try to raise one of your hands to cover your eyes as Morgan’s head shoots up to stare at you with a relieved smile.

“Hey,” he says, catching your hand before you can lift it higher, “Don’t do that. You had a nasty fall, Princess.”

Satisfied that you won’t make any more moves towards your head, he sits back down at your side.

“Should I even ask how you’re doing or…” he trails off when you glare at him. “I’ll go let the team know you’re okay. Boss Man will be happy to hear you finally woke up,” and with that, Morgan is up and out of the room before you can even open your mouth because what.

Shifting around in the bed, you try to gauge just how injured you are, but the soreness in literally your entire body coupled with the haziness in your mind from the constant pain makes you conclude that you’ll leave it to the doctors to tell you what’s wrong. Sighing, you gently tilt your head to the side and observe the various beeping monitors.

The door opens and as you turn to see who it is, your mouth opens in disbelief. There’s no way. There’s absolutely no fucking way. This is fake. This is a dream. Your stomach simultaneously drops and fills with dread. How is this possible?

“You’re dead. You’re dead. We buried you,” you say in a rush, as none other than Emily fucking Prentiss stops by the side of your bed, looking at you confusedly. “Does this mean I’m dead? Are you a ghost?” you wonder out loud, and Emily looks behind her as the rest of the team, except Hotch, file in behind her, seemingly fine with her sudden appearance.

“How are you here, why are you here, what happened? You died. You’re supposed to be dead which means I’m probably dead,” you continue to ramble, frantically looking from at each member of your team and then back to Emily.

“What? Y/N, you aren’t dead. Just like I’m not dead,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you are,” you say shakily, chest tightening as your breaths become shorter and shorter.

“Y/N…” she says slowly, softly, “I faked my death four years ago.”

And with that, your ears rush and your mind goes blank. No no no no no no we buried her six months ago, she’s dead. You don’t notice the rest of the team trading glances around you as the world you thought you knew shatters and reforms in your mind.

“No,” you croak, throat suddenly constricting, but Emily only looks at you worriedly, Reid slipping out the door behind her.

“Y/N, can you take some deep breaths for me?” and your head turns to find JJ at your other side, hand on your shoulder. “Let’s breathe, you can do this,” she says, taking exaggerated breaths to demonstrate, smiling gently as you cooperate.

Reid enters, now, followed by a doctor who, immediately upon reaching your side, proceeds to shine a light in your eyes and asks you to complete all sorts of short tests while the team looks on.

“Now, Agent Y/L/N, Dr. Reid informed me that you seem to be having some memory issues, which is normal,” the doctor assures you, “especially with the head trauma you endured. So, tell me what you can remember and we’ll go from there,” he says with a helpful smile.

Fuck. What do you remember?

“Well…” you trail off, trying to pin-point an exact moment. “I remember Emily—Agent Prentiss’—funeral because it was six months ago, but apparently—” your eyes slide over the rest of the team, “—apparently, it was more like four years ago,” you finish slowly.

“And that’s as recent as you can remember?” the doctor pushes. You nod your head. “Well, Agent Y/L/N, it seems that you have post-traumatic retrograde amnesia, which isn’t a surprise, as I said before. My guess is that it’s temporary, and that you’ll recover your memories in time.”

“Any ideas how long?” Emily speaks up, carefully looking at your face.

“With cases such as these, there isn’t a definite timeline or standard procedure for memory recovery,” the doctor explains. “It may help to look at photos or videos and tell stories to try and help Agent Y/L/N heal quicker, but the brain is tricky,” and with that wonderful statement, the doctor turns and exits, leaving you and your team staring at each other, processing the fact that you don’t know when you’ll get your memories of the last four freakin’ years back.

“So, from the research I’ve done, it seems that—” Reid is cut off by the door flying open and Aaron Hotchner, your Unit Chief, bursting into the room with a concerned look on his face wearing a hoodie and jeans.

Morgan tries to grab his shoulder, but Hotch shakes him off as he walks right up to your bedside and grabs your hand. Holy shit. Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you think your heart might have actually skipped a beat but, you can’t help it, you’ve had a crush on Hotch for ages and he’s holding your hand. But you don’t remember a time when Hotch was so forward in showing concern for one of his agents.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up, Sweetheart—” you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming because Hotch has never called you Sweetheart. Ever. You’ve also never seen him in anything other than a suit. “—Jessica called because Jack has the flu and then he wanted to talk to me and—”

“Hotch!” Morgan all but yells, interrupting Hotch’s update on Jack, as you stare pointedly at his hand, still holding yours, trying to control the redness growing steadily stronger in your cheeks. What the hell.

“Hotch,” Morgan states, softer this time, “The last thing Y/L/N remembers clearly is Prentiss’ funeral.”

You look up with a weak approximation of a smile, and watch Hotch’s face shift as he comprehends what Morgan said.

“That was years ago,” he says slowly, face hardening into a look you’ve seen too many times when he tries to separate himself from the information he’s received.

Looking down at you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, so you divert your eyes to his hand in yours. Once he notices this, he gently lets go and you know it’s silly, but you almost reach out for it again. Who knows the next time Hotch will want to hold your hand?

“So you don’t…” he doesn’t finish his question, which leaves you even more confused. Don’t what…?

“Umm. If it’s happened in the last four-ish years, then umm… Then I probably don’t remember it,” you say quietly, apologetically. “Sir,” you add on quickly, not wanting to forgo formalities even if your memory isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

However, instead of nodding, like you thought he would, Aaron Hotchner looks sad which confuses you even more.

“Aaron,” Rossi begins slowly, “the doctor said that talking about what’s happened since then may help Y/N’s memory come back.” Hotch looks up, almost relieved. “So why don’t you tell her something that’s happened since Prentiss’ funeral.”

And with that, Hotch takes a breath before reaching across your body to your other hand and holding it up. Not quite sure what’s happening, you allow him to hold your left hand up in your line of vision and that’s when you notice a fucking wedding ring. On your hand. Which Hotch is holding.

“I’m married?” you screech, looking at the team, who are now all trying not to laugh for some reason. “Who am I married to? Holy shit, what?” you continue looking around. Morgan and Prentiss look like they’ll break into outright laughter any minute. What’s going on?

Looking helplessly to Hotch, who is suspiciously quiet, you don’t have to repeat your question before he is carefully letting go of your left hand to hold his own up next to it and since when did Hotch wear a wedding band? Until you notice the striking similarities between the ring on your hand, and the one on your boss. What the actual fuck.

“We’re married?” you say, whipping your head to the side—ouch—to stare at Hotch, who is looking a little more amused than worried. “What? When? I just…” you can’t even finish your train of thought because your head is spinning so fast.

“Is it really that much of a surprise, Princess?” Derek chimes in. “I mean, you guys have been in love with each other forever,” and with that, he and Prentiss dissolve into a fit of laughter, which they try to smother, but you’re too busy taking in this very new and very interesting life development.

At some point in the last couple years, you married Hotch. Which means he knows you like him. And he likes you. You dated Hotch and now you’re fucking married. And you can’t remember any of it.

“…I don’t remember it…” you say sadly, softly and the laughter ceases.

Running a hand through his hair, Hotch takes a step back and shrugs, a small, reassuring smile on his face.

“We’ll figure it out, Sweetheart—” your stomach erupts into butterflies, “—we always do.”

With a sigh, you sink back into the pillows on your bed and stare at the ceiling, head throbbing worse than before thanks to all the new information.

“I just…” you pause to think about your current dilemma. “I just don’t know where to start with all this…Getting my memory back,” you look to Hotch and then the team, unsure of what to do.

“Well, the doctor did say that photos and videos might help. I’d be willing to recount every conversation we’ve had since Emily’s funeral, if you want, including the ones that you weren’t a part of, but were about you or a case,” Reid offers with a grin, and your heart melts.

Slowly shaking your head, you answer, “Thanks but maybe later, Spence. I’m still stuck on the whole I’m-married-to-my-boss thing right now.”

“Trust me Princess,” Derek laughs “I’m pretty sure all of us could tell you about how everything went down like a damn movie.”

“Yeah…” JJ continues with a fond shake of her head, “You guys weren’t very subtle about it.”

Sneaking a look out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hotch blushing and staring down at his shoes before he also sneaks a look at you, meeting your eyes.

“See?” Derek’s voice breaks your gaze. “This is exactly what I was talking about. You guys weren’t subtle and still aren’t,” rolling his eyes, he laughs a little and you can’t help but smile.

“At least they’re married this time around,” Rossi supplies. “No more ‘secret’ glances and yearning,” he says with such contempt you can’t help but laugh as Hotch—Aaron? — lets out a small chuckle of his own.

“Now I just need to remember how we got here,” you say, feeling a little more at ease. Slowly, you reach for Hotch’s left hand, studying the ring the matches your own. “Remember us,” you continue, just to him, and the smile that overtakes his face is the best thing you’ve seen since waking up.

“You weren’t wrong, Morgan,” comes Emily’s voice from the end of your bed. “This is just like a movie. Ugh. But don’t worry, Y/N, we’ll help you sort this out.”

“And I know just the woman for the job,” Morgan adds with a mischievous smirk which immediately makes you wonder about whatever it is he has planned.

“Now as much as I’d love to watch the two lovebirds gaze into each other’s eyes, I actually have plans,” Rossi states, looking down at his watch. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/N,” he says before waving to the rest of the team and leaving.

The rest of the team makes their own excuses to leave, and you can’t help but feel like Morgan and Prentiss have concocted some sort of scheme to “help” you get your memories back.

Running a hand over your face, you sigh. What now? The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you look up and realize that Hotch hadn’t left with the others, but was instead standing near the foot of your bed, looking somewhat anxious.

“I ummm… I was planning on spending the night here to make sure you were okay, but umm…” he trails off, unsure.

“But since I have no memory of us being together you think it’s weird…?” you ask gently.

“Yeah,” he answers in a sigh. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being here, especially because I know how frustrating and confusing this must be for you…”

“Hotch,” you start, but he can’t hide his wince when you call him that. “Aaron,” you try again. “Yes, this is incredibly confusing and frustrating because Emily should be dead and I didn’t think you had feelings for me at all,” you pause and see him smile, just a bit, “But I’d really like it if you stayed here. With me. Because—” you take a deep breath. “—Because you make me feel safe, Aaron, and I need that right now,” you say gently, not quite sure where the confidence came from, but Aaron’s eyes soften and his smile grows bigger as his shoulders drop in relief. Worth it.

“Then I’ll stay,” he says, and you can’t help the heat that once again rises in your cheeks as he continues to look at you.

You guys are married, dammit. Pull it together.

Averting your gaze, you turn your attention to getting more comfortable in your bed and decide to fuss with the placement of your pillows because damn was your back starting to hurt, but Aaron beats you to it. Within ten seconds of arranging the pillows behind you, he has them perfect.

“How…?” you start to question, but he just raises his eyebrows. “Right. Married,” you say with a shake of your head.

Aaron finally sits in the chair next to your bed and reaches, almost absentmindedly, for your hand before catching himself and stilling. You can see the fight in his mind—he wants to comfort you and himself, but with your memory, he doesn’t quite know where your boundaries are. Taking pity on him, you grab his hand yourself, weaving your fingers together so he knows it was on purpose. Okay so you really just wanted to hold his hand again, but you’re married! You’re allowed. He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, turning his head to really look at you.

“How’s your head?” he asks, brow furrowed in what you’ve come to understand is genuine concern.

You pause and consider for a moment.

“Not terrible, but not great,” you say slowly. “It’s like there’s a fog in my mind that I can’t see through. I know I’m missing stuff, but I just don’t know what.”

Aaron gently squeezes your hand, but doesn’t speak yet.

“I want to know what brought Emily back, how we happened, what it was that gave me this fucking injury, I just…” with an exasperated huff, you collect yourself. “I just want to know.”

“Well, Emily should be the one to tell you her part of the story, and as for us,” he gives you a smile “it’s a longer answer, at least for me, so that will have to wait—Sorry, Sweetheart,” he says when you pout. “However, I can tell you about what landed you in the hospital. How does that sound?”

“It’s a start,” you tease, and yes Aaron smiles wider and rolls his eyes.

“We were chasing an unsub, and Garcia had tracked him to a warehouse not too far from Quantico. We went there and—” his voice wavers. You squeeze his hand. “—and the unsub had set explosives around the perimeter of the building. I guess you got too close to him when trying to talk him down and he triggered the whole set.” Aaron sighs, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s reliving this—which he probably is—and there’s nothing you can really do besides let him take his time.

“You weren’t right by any of them, but you were thrown back and had hit the ground before I could even yell at you to stop—not that you would have listened,” he says pointedly with a watery laugh. “You just laid there, Morgan and I carried you over to the medics as soon as the dust settled and they took you away as we cleared the rest of the scene.”

“And the unsub?”

“He didn’t survive the explosion. As soon as we figured that out, we left it to the local PD and crime scene techs.” He looks at you softly. “We came straight here after that.”

“How long was I out before today,” you ask lightly, curiously.

“Three days. Dave had to convince me to go home and shower on the second day.” He looks down before sneaking a sideways glance at you.

“Well I’m glad he did,” you tease, scrunching your nose.

“And I’m glad you’re awake, Sweetheart,” he replies, squeezing your hand.

You laugh and look away before mumbling, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“Get used to what?” he waits a second. “Sweetheart?” Motherfucker. He knows what he’s doing.

“That! I woke up convinced you didn’t have feelings for me at all,” you say with a glare, “and now I know we’re married and you keep being so nice and understanding and calling me Sweetheart and I just don’t know how to deal with all of this!” you finish in a huff.

“I just feel bad that I can’t remember this, us” you add, gesturing between the two of you. “I’m trying and there’s just—” you make a frustrated noise and flop back to stare at the ceiling. “And my head still kind of hurts,” you add softly, almost pouting.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Aaron whispers. He clears his throat before continuing. “You’ll get your memories back,” he leans forward to stroke some hair off your forehead. “And until then, you know the team and I will do what we can to catch you up and help you remember.”

You push your head further into his hand with a sigh. He runs his hand through your hair a few times before pulling back and you almost whine. You yawn instead. Settling down, you tug the blanket up higher across your chest and turn to face Aaron as he also gets comfortable. He turns on the small television in your room and at some point, you fall asleep holding his hand.

---

You wake to the sound of the door opening, followed by the unmistakable click-clack of heels worn by none other than Penelope Garcia.  

“Rise and shine! Time to regain your memory, lovely Y/N,” she sings, coming to a stop by the side of your bed as you roll over with a yawn.

“Pen—” you groan. “Let me sleep. Please.”

“Oh no, my little profiler. Do you have your memory back?” You shake your head. “Then we need to work on that! And don’t you dare tell me no; my wonderful Derek Morgan and I were up all night making this for you,”

You raise your eyebrows.

“Sadly, not like that. But, we compiled a presentation-slash-video montage for you about what you’ve missed!”

That catches your attention.

“Wha--? How? Penelope where did the footage come from?” you ask, more awake now.

“Well, I may or may not have used security cam footage for a lot of it, but that’s neither here nor there, so, without further ado, I present to you: your life for the past four-ish years!” and with that, she somehow connects her tablet to the TV and you see a picture of the whole team; Penelope then produces a remote from the depths of her purse and then proceeds to the next slide.

Which is a photo of you. And Aaron. Standing by the coffee machine in the office and smiling at each other, clearly unaware that the moment was being documented. The image is embellished with what must be close to fifty moving, sparkly hearts, obviously done by Garcia.

“First thing’s first,” she starts with a flourish. “Your husband!” and as if on cue, Aaron walks into the room, cup of coffee in hand. Much to your surprise, Aaron just rounds your bed to sit in the same chair you assume he fell asleep in, watching the screen.

“What is happening,” you say softly to yourself, looking from Aaron to Garcia and back.

“The doctor said photos and videos might help restore your memory, so who better to put something together than Garcia?” Hotch answers dryly, a small smile flashing across his face. “The rest of the team should be here shortly,” he says directly to Garcia.

“Oh good. I always work better with an audience,” she replies as you continue to process just what the hell is happening since you woke up approximately five minutes ago.

Within a few minutes, your hospital room is overrun with the rest of the team. Sitting, standing, leaning wherever they can find the space to view Penelope’s presentation with you in the middle of it all.

“Don’t you people have jobs?” you grumble.

“C’mon, Princess. Who better to help you remember the last few years than us?” Derek says with a cheeky grin that makes you roll your eyes.

You turn your gaze to Aaron and find that he’s already looking at you in concern.

“If you really don’t want all of us here we can leave,” he says just loud enough for you to hear.

“I just…” you take a moment to try and collect your thoughts. “I guess I just don’t know how to feel about all of this, but you’re all here so— “

“So here we go!” Penelope cheerfully finishes your sentence before turning back to the screen. “As I was saying before, part one of Operation Get Y/N’s Memories Back is all about—drumroll please—our very own Unit Chief, a.k.a. Hotch, a.k.a. loving husband to our very own Agent Y/L/N.”

With a shake of your head, purposefully ignoring the way Derek and Emily are whooping and whistling, you settle in and gesture for Penelope to continue. God, let’s hope this works.

---

It doesn’t work.

Fuck.

Three almost four hours later and nothing has changed for you. However, it’s a lovely opportunity for some team bonding and creating new memories, but you’re still disappointed. It’s not for lack of trying, though. Penelope did a wonderful job of pulling together a presentation-slash-video montage of your life, complete with titles such as ‘Your lovely husband,’ ‘The Miraculous Life, Death, and Subsequent Resurrection of Emily Prentiss,’ and even ‘Badass BAU Babies,’ which was a collection of team photos and news clips of cases you guys had closed in the past few years.

The whole team had gotten a kick out of each section, especially the last one, as Penelope had spared no one in her quest to help your memory; ugly selfies sent in the BAU group chat, embarrassing footage of you tripping up (and down) the stairs to the bullpen—courtesy of the security cameras, Reid doing physics magic and narrowly missing Rossi’s coffee cup, it was all there. But nothing worked, there was no magical ah ha moment where everything came rushing back. If anything, it really was like watching a movie; it didn’t feel like you were the one is all of these clips and photos. Not even Reid’s commentary made you feel any closer than before to recovering your memories.

It wasn’t all bad, though. Penelope had a veritable stockpile of photos of you and Aaron, ranging from the office, to cases, to the occasional night out with the team. Your engagement announcement, wedding photos, freakin’ everything on the two of you and yet, nothing seemed to make a difference to your brain.

The photo on the screen was one of you and Aaron on a case. You were tucked under his arm, snowflakes visible in your hair and his as you look up and laugh at something he said while he just smiles gently down at you. Penelope had put hearts over both your eyes.

��Actual heart eyes! I had to! You guys are so cute!” she basically squealed when the photo came up.

“What did I tell you,” Rossi said teasingly, “Yearning.”

Prentiss and Morgan hadn’t stopped laughing for this entire segment, with JJ and Reid occasionally joining in if there was something exceptionally ridiculous Penelope had included, like fucking heart eyes.

A hand covering your own makes you realize you had spaced out, and you look down to see that it’s Aaron’s hand, wedding band catching the light.

“Anything, Sweetheart?” he asks in a low voice, carefully watching your face.

You shake your head. “It’s like it’s someone else’s life, but I know it’s mine; you’ve told me it’s mine, there’s photographic evidence that it’s mine!” you say in a huff. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s mine,” you whisper, voice breaking at the end. Tears gather in your eyes and you bite your lip to stop it from shaking as you desperately try and control your overwhelming emotions. You can hear the team in the background, strategizing new ways to help you, but Aaron’s face hovers in front of your own, drawing your attention.

“It’s okay,” he says lightly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“No, it’s not,” you insist as a few tears make their way down your face. “It’s not, Aaron. What if this is it? What if I just don’t get my memories back?”

Letting out a long sigh, Aaron raises your hand to his lips and kisses your palm before folding your hand into his.

“You will. I know you will,” he says with such conviction you might just believe him if it weren’t for the way he rapidly blinks to keep his own tears at bay.

“Yeah, Princess.” Morgan chimes in from somewhere across the room. “We’ll figure this out, you know we will.”

And with that, you see something click into place in Aaron’s eyes and suddenly, he’s looking at you in such a way that your heart picks up—thanks, heart monitor.

“Aaron…?” you ask cautiously.

“Princess,” he says it so simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You only have time to raise an eyebrow at him before—

Oh.

Kissing Aaron Hotchner is something you could definitely get used to. His hand comes up to cradle your face as he gently moves his lips against yours. You sigh and can feel his smile against your mouth before he’s tugging your face closer, tilting your head just so and—

There.

It’s like opening a window to let in a breeze. Soft and sure, filling the space in a way that’s all-encompassing without being suffocating.

Like snowflakes falling and settling on his black jacket, like Aaron down on one knee sliding your engagement ring on your finger while you smile so much it feels like your face will break. It’s leaving cups of coffee on his desk during late nights in the office. It’s playing soccer with Jack as Aaron smiles and cheers both of you on. It’s being in bed late at night, falling asleep in the comfort provided by the man you love. Your wedding vows, promising to love him forever.

And you know.

With a gasp, you pull Aaron closer, kiss him deeper, harder, moving your lips more frantically against his. I remember I remember I remember and you think he gets it because he pulls back and looks at you with so much hope it almost breaks your heart.

“When I said I’d love you forever, Aaron Hotchner, I meant it.”

And his face breaks into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen as he laughs in disbelief before capturing your lips with his again, returning the urgency you had kissed him with just moments ago.

Someone clears their throat and you pull apart, smiles obvious on both your faces as you turn to the team who are looking somewhat confused.

“Would you mind enlightening us as to why you two are suddenly acting like teenagers?” Rossi asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well,” Aaron starts, grinning in your direction, “It would seem that— “

“Nuh uh. No way,” Derek interrupts him. “Are you seriously about to say that you kissed her and she magically remembered?”

You can’t help but laugh at his disbelief because what the hell and nod, unable to speak through the giddiness overtaking your body. You remember.

“Ohmygod! You guys!!” Penelope squeals before launching herself into your arms for a hug which she promptly pulls Aaron into as well; he doesn’t protest.

“What made you do that, Hotch?” Reid asks curiously once Penelope has let you and Aaron go. “Did you know it would work?”

“Princess,” Aaron says with a nod towards Morgan. “In Jack’s storybooks, a kiss always wakes the Princess so she and her prince can live happily ever after.”

Okay that’s adorable and you can’t help but aww with the rest of the team at Aaron’s confession.

“Happily ever after, huh?” you say, tugging on his hand. “Who knew you were such a sap, Hotchner?”

Rolling his eyes, Aaron just smiles. “Wasn’t it obvious from Garcia’s presentation? I’ve been in love with you forever, Sweetheart. And besides, it worked, didn’t it?” he says with a smug smile. 

You pull him down for a short kiss before moving back just enough to murmur “My Prince Charming.”

“I can’t believe you guys,” you turn to see Morgan shaking his head. “A literal fuckin’ fairytale,” and then he’s laughing and the whole team, you and Aaron included, are laughing with him because yeah this is pretty surreal.

“I can’t believe you thought I was a ghost!” Emily says once the laughter has died down, her arms crossed in mock-anger.

“Can you blame me?” you retort. “The last thing I remember was burying you and suddenly you’re here? Nope. No way. Ghost. Only explanation.”

“I have to say, Y/L/N, I’m glad you’re back, if only to stop Aaron’s sad puppy-dog eyes every time you called him ‘Hotch,’” Rossi shakes his head. “I don’t know how much more yearning I could take.”

“Hey! Be nice,” JJ admonishes, swatting Rossi’s shoulder. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah guys,” you echo. “Be nice! Don’t think I forgot you two,” you say, leveling Morgan and Prentiss with glares, “and all your laughter when I couldn’t remember that my husband and I were married!”

“Oh c’mon, Princess,” Morgan groans. “It was pretty funny. You were trying so hard not to look completely in love with your husband.”

“In my defense,” you start, “I didn’t know that you guys already knew how much I love Aaron, so excuse me for trying to hide my love,” you say with a sniff.

“Well, it was pretty obvious. Whenever you looked at him or he grabbed your hand, the heart monitor would register an increase in your heart rate by—” Reid starts to ramble but your laughter cuts him off.

“I get it, I get it,” you continue through your laughter. “I’m very in love with Aaron, even when I think it’s a secret, but as Penelope’s presentation so eloquently demonstrated, I’m not subtle and neither is he.”

Aaron leans over to kiss your cheek as the rest of the team continues into a conversation about Penelope’s presentation and how the hell she collected all those photos and videos in one day.

With the attention no longer on you—for now—you smile at Aaron, who smiles right back. He slumps back in his chair with a sigh, and you can’t help but pull him back closer to you.

“I love you,” you say kissing the back of his hand.

“I love you more, Sweetheart,” he replies softly.

Yeah, this is happily ever after.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm #fanfiction #fanfic #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #bau #andi writes

[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Fall Into You | Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

Alright my friends. Here is my latest piece of insanity.

It is completely raw and unedited. So, if there are a ton of mistakes, I apologize in advance.

What a whirlwind thing this was. I literally only planned to write the last little bit at the end, that was the entire premise and then 7000 more words came along with it.

-----

This is a partial crossover fic.

TFATWS | The Alienist | Dr. Strange | Loki | universe all mushed together in bits and pieces.

But mostly The Alienist.

Hopefully the characterizations feel okay. Dr. Kreizler and John Moore can be a bit tricky to write and I've never written them before. So, please bear with me on this.

Buckle up. It's going to be a doozy. Kinda.

-----

Word Count: 6,900 - ish

What happens when you wind up 124 years into the past and meet a relative of Baron Helmut Zemo's?

A lot.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was early evening and you were perched on one of Dr. Kreizler's fine couches, in front of the fireplace, reading a book.

You were waiting for Stevie to drop by and drag you to some musical street performance not terribly far from Dr. Kreizler's residence. Normally, you would have stayed hidden indoors, but you took a liking to the kid when you first met him, and decided you couldn't let him down.

Hopefully Stevie wouldn't drag you out too long, otherwise Dr. Kreizler would start to worry. Although, he would never outright admit to it, but it was the subtle things he did that indicated his concern. Or perhaps it was annoyance. That wouldn't surprise you either. You were loud and very talkative. He'd probably grateful to have to leave his house; so he can finally get some peace and quiet.

Dr. Kreizler always kept to himself and rarely made a display of his feelings to anyone, but you were a good friend of his in the short time you had come to know him. So, you got little peeks into what lay hidden away.

He was gracious enough to allow you stay in his home until you could figure out a way to get back to your own time. One minute you were talking to Wong inside Dr. Strange's sanctum in New York, and the next a portal opened up underneath you and you were falling.

After travelling through an empty void that seemed to go on forever, you finally exited through the other side, which landed you in front of a police precinct. You had looked around after picking yourself up and realized you were in quite the pickle. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was not your New York.

People were starting to stare at as you took in your surroundings. You initially thought it was because you had randomly fallen out of the sky, but realization had dawned on you; it was because of your clothing.

Ah, yes. You suppose compared to what all the other women were wearing, you were a sight to behold. Jeans, a forest green blouse, and short brown leather jacket, would draw some attention, when all the other women were dressed so conservatively in dresses. You laughed nervously backing away from the small crowd on the sidewalk. You calmly but quickly darted over to a newsie holding up a paper for sale.

You paid the kid a dollar and snatched the paper out of his hand. Not paying attention in the least to his shouts of joy on making so much off of one measly paper, but you were too focused on finding out what time period you were in.

You caught the date at the top of the newspaper: April 1st, 1897.

April Fool's Day.

Typical, something like this would happen to you. Joke's on them, as someone is going to have a hell of time trying to figure out where you went. You're quite sure Wong was trying to sort through what happened and had already calling Strange.

Well, you hope he had.

You put down the paper and tried to think of what to do, but a small crowd of people were still stopped and whispering to each other, pointing in your general direction.

One man was gesturing in your direction and started shouting, but not at you.

"Hey Kreizler, this one looks like a crazy. Should probably haul her off to Bellevue!"

You raised your eyebrow at the man, but didn't say anything, instead choosing to turn and see who he was yelling at.

A very well dressed man wearing a bowler hat was walking down the steps of the police precinct in a rushed sort of manner. He had a cane with him, and it appeared his right arm was tucked against his body as if protecting it. A few steps behind him there was another man darting to catch up with him, also well dressed and carrying what seemed to be a sketchbook.

The guy on the street had yelled at the gentleman in the bowler hat again, which you had assumed at this point was Dr. Kreizler. As the two men reached the bottom of the steps and were about to step into their carriage, the incessant yelling had managed to grab Kreizler's attention. At least it seemed so, because the man with the cane had paused and turned his attention towards the direction of the yelling.

You could see from his body language he wasn't all that interested, but when his eye-line landed on you, he backed away from getting inside.

The other gentleman that was accompanying him, the one with the sketchbook, said something to him, but Dr. Kreizler just waved him off as he started to walk over to you.

Great.

You look over to the rude gentleman that had now drawn even more attention to you and gave him an unappreciative stare.

You steeled yourself, ready for whatever this stranger was going to say to you, but your guard had dropped slightly upon getting a better look at his face.

No way.

This was not possible.

The man that had come over to you was the spitting image of one genius, criminal mastermind and general pain in your ass, you knew all too well. One who's currently locked up in The Raft.

If it wasn't for the beard, you'd swear you were looking at Baron Helmut Zemo.

As Dr. Kreizler stopped a few feet from you, he tilted his head to the side and eyed you warily, but not unkindly.

That head tilt, a family trait for sure. Zemo had to be some distant relative of this man in some way, there's no chance they aren't with how closely the two resemble each other. She'd have to make a trip to The Raft and ask him about it sometime, if she ever got back home.

"My dear, you seem out of sorts. Are you alright?" the man inquired, gazing at the small gathering of people and then back to you.

"I kinda stick out like a sore thumb, yeah?" You laughed as you answer his question, peering down at your outfit.

"Quite," he replied.

You saw while he may be cautious around you, you've seem to grab his interest with the scrutiny and intensity of his gaze.

"If I may introduce myself, my name is Doctor Laszlo Kreizler," the gentleman stated.

Ah, so this was indeed the man who was being called out from the street. You noticed he didn't extend his hand in greeting, but then again perhaps it wasn't a pertinent gesture for the time period either. So, you didn't take offense to it.

Your eyeline moved behind Dr. Kreizler and could see his friend at the carriage watching with interest, but also growing impatience.

You gave a kind smile as you introduced yourself and added, "Thank you for humoring the nosy man over there, but I'm not in need of a doctor. I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your day."

"Not in the least. And I may be a doctor, but I am an alienist more specifically," Kreizler explained.

Your eyebrows shot into your forehead and then contemplated his title. An alienist? Where had you heard that before? If you remembered correctly, an alienist was someone who assessed individuals for competence?

Oh.

The shouty man had mentioned Bellevue. Okay, now you understood.

"An alienist! That term is...." you paused trying to think of a better way to phrase you response. "The term is outdated where I'm from. Instead we simply acknowledge your specific doctorate profession as psychologists, since the very definition of what you do is to study the mind and behavior of individuals," you answered, satisfied with your explanation.

"Outdated. How intriguing. Perhaps we could continue this conversation away from prying eyes and gossipy busy-bodies?" Kreizler asked.

You wouldn't be able to read it on his face, but you can tell you've piqued his interest even more so now with his body language. And his eyes had this sparkle in them as you spoke of his profession so specifically.

Though you felt you could trust this man, you couldn't take the chance that he might, in fact, lure you into his carriage and ship you off to the nearest mental institution, such as Bellevue Hospital.

You'd be lying if you weren't equally intrigued by this enigma of a man standing before you. The resemblance to Baron Zemo was uncanny, and that alone made you want to find out more about him; however, Zemo was not to be trusted as far as you could throw him. Though he did have his moments. You'd give him some credit. Doesn't mean distrustful behavior runs in the family, but it also could. It was a difficult decision.

Your eyes narrowed assessing Dr. Kreizler as you came to decision.

"Shouldn't you give me a mental health assessment test before asking a complete stranger to travel off to who knows where with you? Why shouldn't I be suspicious you aren't going to drop me off at the nearest institute? No offense," you replied warily.

"Thank you!" the man with the sketchbook at the carriage shouted at both you and Dr. Kreizler, clearly in agreement with your answer.

You snickered at his sarcastic reply, but attempted to cover your ever growing smile by coughing.

The corner of Dr. Kreizler's mouth ticked up in a smile as well.

"No my dear, if anything you've just proven you're at least slightly more sane than my counterpart, Mr. John Moore," Dr. Kreizler shook his head and jutted his thumb behind him.

"Heard that Laszlo!" Moore responded with indignation.

"That was the point John," Dr. Kreizler answered back with dry wit.

Yeah, she liked him already.

"Shall we?" Kreizler turned slightly to gesture to his carriage.

You sighed internally. Why the hell not? You had nothing better to do and no idea what your next move should be trying to get home. Dr. Kreizler would no doubt be curious about your attire and that alone with most likely bring up a slew of never ending questions. You'd have to be careful how to explain your situation and make sure what you revealed was limited, but truthful. You wanted to tell him the truth about where you were from, but you needed to word it in a way that doesn't make you out to be a crazy person, but present the information with facts and evidence that Dr. Kreizler could not refute. Luckily you had some tech with you that could prove your point rather efficiently should the need arise you convince him of what time period you come from in the future. 124 years it a length period of time. It would be difficult for anyone to accept your explanation, but Dr. Kreizler seemed to be different. Let's hope you aren't wrong about him.

"I accept your offer Dr. Kreizler, thank you," you spoke kindly.

You were formally introduced to Mr. Moore and to Stevie before getting in the carriage. Mr. Moore seemed uneasy, but went along with Dr. Kreizler's acceptance of you. He was a trusting friend of his, you could tell right away. And something told you, Dr. Kreizler was a tough nut to crack and didn't seem to be the type of person who might have very many. Only a close few.

"What made you decide to take Dr. Kreizler up on his offer so quickly," Moore asked standing outside the carriage as Stevie was getting the horses ready.

Dr. Kreizler had held the door open for you and waited patiently.

You looked at Dr. Kreizler before turning back to Mr. Moore, "You mean besides his sparkling personality?" you winked and got in the carriage.

John leaned into Kreizler before adjusting his hold on his sketchbook and climbing into the carriage himself.

"Oh, well I like her already Laszlo," he grinned incessantly and gave Kreizler a clap on the back.

You saw Dr. Kreizler bend his head down in amused exasperation as a small huff of laughter sounded with the movement. He sighed somewhat dramatically before getting in the carriage and closing the door.

"You know, I've never actually ridden in one of these before," you say slightly awed.

Both Moore and Kreizler gave you confusing looks before Dr. Kreizler used his cane to tap on the rear enclosure signaling Stevie to head home.

Home. Well, this should be interesting indeed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You closed your book with a snap and slumped into the couch you were perched on. It had been six months, since that day. Six months, you've been trapped in this pocket of 1897.

You had reflected back on how well John and Dr. Kreizler had taken the explanation you were from the future. As you told your story, your only requirement was that they wait until the very end before asking any questions. That gave you the chance to be very methodical about how you explained the future and how it was you ended up in 1897, which to be fair, you don't know exactly how that portal opened still, but magic was involved to say the very least.

It was oddly reminiscent of when Loki used the space stone, which gave her pause. All the infinity stones had been destroyed, and yet you knew that there was an errant 2012 Loki running around the universe with one. It is plausible, he could factor into this, but how or why you, you have no idea.

After you had explained your fanatical circumstance, to help prove you weren't absolutely off your rocker and have Dr. Kreizler change his mind about you, you showed them your phone.

Yes, there may not be any service available, but you could still access all your photos and videos and holographic imagery, etc. That was what allowed John and Dr. Kreizler to accept your story; paired with your unique clothes; they had a surprisingly open mind. John had gaped like a fish for a good 10 minutes before Dr. Kreizler told him to get over it already. John was somewhat outraged that he wasn't more shocked by your existence. But like all things, Dr. Kreizler took everything in stride, which was quite a relief to you. He was incredibly understanding and offered a room in his home to you until you were able to get back to your own time. You made a promise to Dr. Kreizler that you would never lie to him, about anything. It was the least you could do since he opened up his home and essentially part of his life to you.

You understood why he was an expert in his field. His patience and intellect allowed him to be open-minded and grasp concepts others word merely scoff at. However, there was another side to that coin; he was also closed off, and could at times, be calculating and manipulative. Though, none of these traits were used in any nefarious manners, they were there all the same.

He reminded you of Zemo to be sure in this regard. Some personality traits apparently do get passed down through the generations. In some ways, after meeting Dr. Kreizler, you felt you knew Helmut Zemo a bit better. And somehow, you missed him. Not that you were ever particularly close to him, but the time you spent with him in Latvia with Sam and Bucky forever altered your opinion of him.

So while you've been living at Dr. Kreizler's residence, in your spare time, you had been working different avenues of how to achieve ways to get home. You couldn't just solely rely on your friends to get you out of this mess. So, while Dr. Kreizler was at work, you enlisted the help of Stevie to run down leads of potential scientist and gathering of general information of the time period to help you put together some sort of road map. None had turned out to be very promising.

You had, over time, gotten more acclimated to living in 1897, though you mostly refused to wear the clothing of the time period. John Moore would always comment about how you would draw attention in the public eye, should you dare to go out. But you refused to give in most of the time, saying that 1897 would just have to catch up to your fashion sense, and you weren't about to apologize for it. If you were going to be stuck here, you were going to be stuck here, comfortably. You fondly remember Dr. Kreizler's reaction. He seemed pleased, possibly proud of you in that moment. Probably because you had refused to conform to the times, and set your own rules to live by. Not giving in to anyone.

The question lingered, how exactly did you get away with living in this time without having to dress in the clothing of the period? Well, a friend of yours, Scott Lang, had gifted you a device that allowed you to chose one object to shrink and return to it's normal size. So, of course, since you traveled so often with the Sam, Bucky and the other Avengers, you chose your wardrobe. You were just thankful you had it on you already when you got dumped into that portal. So, essentially you had all your clothes with you, making things a bit easier.

Life was not fast paced here, which made things a bit difficult for you. You were used to always being on the go, another crisis to fight through, another area of the world that needed help. But here, here everything was, for the most part, quiet.

It drove you nuts sometimes. Made you antsy. You managed to weasel your way into helping John, Sara and Dr. Kreizler on one of their serial killer cases recently to pass the time. Dr. Kreizler was unhappy at first. You were able to prove your usefulness though with advanced techniques and theories on how to potentially catch the killer in question. Be that as it may, Dr. Kreizler still seemed grumpy, if that were the correct word to use, about you working on the case. You confronted him about it one evening, but he glossed over the whole thing. He was holding back, but what that was, you weren't sure. Maybe he still didn't fully trust you yet. It was a fair assumption, but he was always so hard to read. Though you've managed to get a few good laughs out of him from time to time. Those were the days that really made you smile. Seeing him happy, as most of the time he was always so guarded. It made you feel like you and Dr. Kreizler shared this little secret when no one else was around.

Dr. Kreizler let himself relax ever so slightly around you, but it was far and fleeting. On rare occasions. You savored all those memories and tucked them away. Everyone was so refined and conservative in their mannerisms. You missed just wanting to hug someone. You craved some sort of physical affection, and it was hard, realizing just how different the times were from the future. They weren't terrible by any means, but the social norms of the times had been trying on you, to say the very least. Dr. Kreizler, ever astute, had picked up on this.

He had been gracious enough to offer himself if you ever needed to hug someone. This had been roughly 4 months into your stay at Dr. Kreizler's. You both had gotten more comfortable around the other, and even had a routine of sorts. You had thanked him for his offer, and told him you would not abuse the privilege he had bestowed on you.

Something told her there was more to it, but you hadn't dwelled on it, you were simply appreciative of his friendship.

However more recently, it was more than just friendship you felt. You kept squashing your feelings down, telling yourself this was the worst possible time to develop feelings for someone. Especially someone like Dr. Kreizler. There would never be a happy ending. At some point, you would return home, and that would be that. But there was that nagging sensation in the back of your mind, reminding you, you might not ever get back home. You tried to reason to yourself that you were possibly transferring some of your fondness of Zemo to Dr. Kreizler because of how he reminds you of him. But then you were just lying to yourself. Dr. Kreizler was a person all on his own and one of a kind. You knew better, you were just fighting yourself tooth and nail to live in denial a bit longer.

Footsteps from the kitchen were headed in your direction knocking you out of your musings.

You twisted on the couch to see Dr. Kreizler had returned home from his institute.

"Dr. Kreizler! Good evening," you voiced into the low lit parlor room.

"Good evening to you as well, I trust your day was fruitful?" Dr. Kreizler inquired, coming to rest on the opposite end of the couch.

"It was, thank you. I was somewhat restless earlier, so I took it upon myself to work on the cryptogram the killer left his last victim, with the hopes of figuring out his next location before he strikes," you sheepishly stated.

Dr. Kreizler ruefully smiled at you and shook his head. At one time, he might have gotten upset, but he had been taking your antics more in stride, and you managed to be helpful providing much needed information. So, he'd act unhappy, but silently was thrilled.

"And did you uncover anything useful?" Kreizler queried, he got up from his seat and walked over to the chalk board.

"Not completely, I believe I've broken the code word and the book that the killer has been using to write his cryptograms, but I have yet to comb through all the evidence to gather the page numbers, line and word number to crack the full message. I planned on working on it when I got back with Stevie later this evening," you happily expressed while fidgeting with the watch on your wrist.

"Impressive work. And what book has our killer been using?" Kreizler asked, eyes still going over the work on the board.

"Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. You'd think we could have figured that one out sooner given our killer's eclectic methods of murdering people," you answered sarcastically.

Dr. Kreizler bent his knees in utter annoyance, "Of course it is. Of course. How ridiculous to have missed such an obvious choice."

You smiled knowingly. He was irritated he hadn't figured it out sooner.

A companionable silence continued for a few minutes after his outburst.

Dr. Kreizler was still staring at the board with mild interest when he spoke next, "May I ask you a personal question?"

You had just reached over to place the book on the coffee table next to you when he asked his question and you froze mid motion.

Dr. Kreizler generally didn't push too much into your personal life, so this was somewhat out of left field for him. Never-the-less, you recovered after a beat and placed the book on the table.

"Of-of course Dr. Kreizler. I told you I would always be truthful with you regarding anything. Please, go ahead," you answered, motioning for him to continue.

"Why do you always regard me as Dr. Kreizler and not by my first name?" he questioned softly, almost hesitantly.

This was not the question you thought he would ask. There were a million questions he could have chose, but it was this one he went with.

This really was personal.

You glanced down at your hands sitting in your lap as you pondered how to answer his questions. You could lie about it, and he'd be none the wiser, but it's not who you are. And you promised.

Dr. Kreizler went on to further express his inquiry with a bit more confidence, "You call John Moore by his first name and the same with Ms. Howard, including our other friends we work with, but not me. Why?"

You opened your mouth to answer him when the front door slammed open and Stevie came barging in.

"You ready?" he exclaimed loudly. Stevie was clearly excited at the prospect of showing off his musical talent. "Oh, excuse me Dr. Kreizler, I didn't realize you'd gotten home yet. Thought you were working late," Stevie took off his hat and looked sheepish as he apologized for the disruption in his home.

You sighed. This was your saving grace. You could probably make an excuse and make a run for it with Stevie. You mulled over what to do, battling with the decision.

"Hey Stevie. Nice to see you too! Go on outside, I'll be right there. I just need to put my coat on," you laugh at his enthusiasm.

He nodded at you and dashed back down the hallway and out the door. You could hear one last shout as he exited, "Okay, but don't be too long, we're going to be late!"

Dr. Kreizler gave a look of displeasure at Stevie's unrefined outburst, but didn't say anything as he knows his antics all too well from over the years.

You stood up grabbing Dr. Kreizler's attention.

"Walk me to the door?" you ask, jutting your head in the direction of where your coat hangs.

"Do you plan on providing me with an answer?" he kindly jabbed as he nodded his agreement to follow you out.

You outwardly sighed, trying to figure out how to best answer his question. As you both walked to the front door, you start to answer him.

"Okay, so I address you as Dr. Kreizler 33% of the time, because you deserve the respect that comes with that title. You went to school for many years, and you earned it. So, it's only fair to address you as such," you tell him confidently.

A completely reasonable and partial explanation, you thought.

You both reached the front door, and you grabbed your jacket. Dr. Kreizler, the gentleman that he is, assisted you in putting your coat on. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, making sure you looked okay before heading out.

You caught Dr. Kreizler staring at you in the mirror as you adjusted a stray hair that had fallen onto your face.

"You look lovely," he quietly voiced.

You turned to face him as he had opened the door for you and stepped outside.

"Thank you," you said, a bit bashful by his sudden compliment.

His expression had gotten softer and his eyes were glowing in the evening lit night.

Your resolve was crumbling even more so now.

"And the other 67%?" Kreizler softly spoke, head cocked to the side.

"Hey - Miss! We need to be going!" Stevie cried.

You turned to Stevie and hollered, "One mo, Stevie! Don't lose your head!"

"I'm sorry I have to go otherwise Stevie is going to have a coronary," you apologized to Dr. Kreizler.

You walked down a few steps, but stopped. You couldn't not answer him.

You go up a step but not completely back to where you where standing in front of Dr. Kreizler. You inhaled a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, looking up to see Dr. Kreizler eyeing you with slight confusion and anticipation with your hesitance to answer his question in full.

"And the other 67% of the time, I call you Dr. Kreizler because..because," you drifted off closing your eyes. You open them again with quiet resolve shining through, finding your confidence. You take another step up to now stand just a foot away from where Dr. Kreizler was.

"Because, I love you Laszlo. And I use your professional title as a barrier, to - to remind myself I have boundaries. It's just easier to separate you this way or well, to keep myself living in denial," you quietly and defeatedly said, laying it all out for him.

You wanted to open your mouth to say something else to him, to let him know it was okay he didn't feel the same way, but you could never quite form the words that needed to come out.

The shock was written clearly on his face. You had completely gob-smacked this man. His eyes had widened considerably and his jaw had gone slack from your answer.

But he never said anything back. You weren't expecting him to.

So instead, you did what you did best. Ran.

"You've got your answer. I-I really have to go now, I'll see you later," you stuttered out, suddenly drained from your revelation.

You took one last glance at Dr. Kreizler before making a mad dash for it with Stevie.

You were gone before Dr. Kreizler recovered from what just happened. And you never got to see the expression on his face after.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #helmut zemo x reader #tfatws #helmut zemo #mcu fic #crossover #my writing

[oh-boy-me]

I just read both the australia and museum post and the chaos levels are top tier, but like imagine the chaos that ensues if lord diavolo discovers about amusment parks and immediately just buys tickets to disneyland. Lucifer is basically the dad trying not to loose his children(lord diavolo included). Lord diavolo wanting to ride a loopy rollercoaster and just having the time of his life! (Also I highkey see diavolo ordering lucifer to make a disneyland in devildom tbh) Also mouse ear headbands!

This..... this took forever

Hey there anon!  Sorry it took literally a year to answer this!  If you’re still into Obey Me, I hope this was a pleasant surprise.

Also for the first time ever a scenario post is being put under the cut for length purposes.  This scenario is 2.6k words Jesus

Please note that the last time I went to Disney was in 2015, so anything that’s newer than that is taken from the extensive reading of Disney advice blogs I read in preparation for this post.  Anything older than that is likely from experience.

Also, I tried my best to keep this spoiler free for the attractions that can be affected by it.

--

So the Devildom DOES have the concept of amusement parks.  I slept on this ask for so long that we’ve learned about Devil’s Coast.  It seems to be more akin to a smaller-scale theme park, though.  Small-ish.  I’m used to NYC idk what constitutes as small.

Something like Disney World is on such a larger scale!!  When Diavolo heard about that, he knew they had to go.

They are going to Disney World in Orlando because it’s the only one I’ve been to.

Lucifer is REALLY getting tired of these field trips, but there would be no weird animals, and there would be no sobering lessons on global extinction events at a family-friendly amusement park.  He.  He can handle this.

Solomon has actually been banned from all Walt Disney theme parks.  We’re talking blacklist-level banned.  He’s barred from ever entering any Disney park ever again.  However, this was back in 1976, so this must be, like, his son or something, right?  There’s no way this is the same guy.  Thought the security guard who let him in.

What did Solomon do to get banned?  When asked, he only gave a curious hum.  “Yeah, I wonder.”

The place is split into four parks, so they’ll spend one day in each.

Barbatos continued to flex his power as the only one in the group with a brain cell, being sure to get them all fast passes.  He even set time back just for the passes while they were booking the rides they wanted to cut the lines for, so if they don’t get used he’s going to be very snippy.

Also for convenience sake this is taking place in an AU where everything is the same but COVID doesn’t exist to shut down some rides and attractions.

Day 1: Hollywood Studios

MC and Simeon basically have to coerce Lucifer into letting everyone run free instead of making them all line up with a walking rope all day.  He relents on the condition that everyone checks in periodically so he can at least know they haven’t killed anyone.

Nobody will check in except for maybe Beelzebub and those at Purgatory Hall.

Levi immediately gathered his fellow Star Wars fans (which basically meant calling over Mammon Belphie and Asmo and then pulling in two unsuspecting people suddenly given the title of “Star Wars fan”), and made a beeline for Galaxy’s Edge.  There’s a LOT to do there and damn it if he wasn’t going to hit all of it.

First up for their group is the interactive Millennium Falcon Smuggler’s Run.  They fail the mission.  Levi’s pretty pissed, but everyone agrees that it was fun nonetheless.  They really felt like they were doing a mission in the Falcon!  Plus, the gameplay element was totally up the alley of most of this group.  Simeon does feel a little nauseous from Luke’s jerky steering, though.

Did you know that Diavolo loves Toy Story?  He does.  He’s very much enjoying the Slinky roller coaster with Barbatos.

Barbatos would rather be spending time at the shows and performances, but oh no god forbid we don’t get an autograph from Doc McStuffins.  Lucifer please come find him and save him.

Lucifer somehow wandered into the Frozen Sing-Along Celebration.  He wants out.  Barbatos please come find him and save him.

In general, Lucifer isn’t a fan of these sorts of places, so honestly he’s just hiding from the others and waiting for today to be over.  Barbatos told him that there are parks that don’t revolve around rides and characters, and he’s holding out for those.

Luckily for them Diavolo wants to do LITERALLY everything, and that does include the shows, so Barbatos and Lucifer can have at least some fun today

Levi, Asmo, and Beel are about to start their relay for getting character autographs when Satan shows up out of nowhere and starts dragging everyone over to the Tower of Terror.  Solomon bars all attempts to flee on a certain Avatar of Greed’s side.

The line to the Tower is so long, and honestly?  Satan feels like the ride didn’t live up to the literal hour they waited to get on.  Like yeah it was fun, but way too short.

He voices those thoughts, and Levi, who Satan knows is afraid of heights, is pretty fucking livid and drags him to Rock n Rollercoaster as revenge.  Satan hates roller coasters.

As for the others, Asmo and Luke have a lot of fun on the thrill rides.  Mammon and Simeon do not.  Beel is a little spooked by them but still manages to have fun, while Belphie and Solomon think they’re alright.

Eventually, Simeon gets too sick to move, and they assign him to Luke.  They say it’s because he’s too short to ride some of the rides (even though he’s literally not, screw you guys.)

Barbatos messes with time a lil bit so they can enjoy the Fantasmic Show and Fireworks to wrap the day up.

Levi is very jealous of Diavolo’s Doc McStuffins autograph.  Somehow Asmo has Buzz Lightyear’s number.

Day 2: Animal Kingdom

Satan is vibrating

He literally instantly sprints to the Kilimanjaro Safari.  And good for him; that’s something best done while the sun isn’t high up.  The whole gang actually agrees to check that one out, and while Satan isn’t thrilled to be within 50 feet of Lucifer, he’s glad Simeon is there because he remembers how his presence lured animals out in Australia.

Simeon also finds himself pulled along the trails by Satan and parents watch in horror as a gorilla gives him a friendly pat on the back.

If you didn’t know, Animal Kingdom is divided into the two continents of Asia and Africa, as well as the secret eighth continent Avatar (2009).  Diavolo heard great things about the Flight of Passage ride, but he totally forgot to tell Barbatos about it, so they’re stuck on a three hour wait line now.

Levi takes Luke on the Everest roller coaster because Simeon saw it in the distance and looked like he was about to cry.  Levi wouldn’t shut up about how the yeti effect needs to be fixed and Solomon had to explain that the effect literally couldn’t support itself.

Simeon, having escaped a roller coaster for the first and only time on this trip, grabs lunch with Lucifer and Solomon and they enjoy the Lion King performance together.  Solomon’s the only one of them who’s seen the movie, but the others still found it fun.  Solomon keeps making up random plot points that don’t exist, though.  Remember when Simba was captured by pirates?

Mammon found the Bugs Life show very scary.  Normally Asmo would laugh at him, but he’s afraid of any bug he’s never seen before and at least Mammon was afraid of the things that were supposed to get you.  They agree that bugs are still not their friends.

Satan has many things to say about the Dinosaur ride and most of them aren’t good.  Belphie thought it was pretty ok, though.  Lucifer can’t believe there was a sobering lesson on a global extinction event at this family-friendly amusement park.

Diavolo is still in line.  Barbatos abandons him.  He accompanies Luke to the kiddie fossil thing and actually finds it more tolerable.  Oh yeah that’s the other secret ninth continent, Dinoland.

Beel and Belphie spend most of the day together at the various petting zoos.  Belphie comes back knowing more than he ever wanted to about conservation.  He thought Rafiki’s Planet Watch was going to be about watching other planets, not this one!

Asmo gets very interested in the costumes of the performers, as well as the parrots in the bird show.  He could probably make some really colorful designs with those as inspiration.

Nearby, Mammon runs into Kevin and squawks in surprise.  The zoo staff spend the next two hours trying to find the bird that escaped.

Diavolo says the ride was worth it, don’t worry.

Honestly this park has a lot of stuff that wouldn’t translate well to a funny scenario post so this part might be a little short compared to the others.  I can only talk about a zoo for so long.

Anyone remember the Honey I Shrunk the Kids 4D show?  Apparently it closed in 2016 to make room for more Star Wars stuff.

Anyway, at the center of it all there’s the Tree of Life, which is really pretty all day.  Lucifer is thrilled to have a decently obvious meet-up place, too.  They get to catch the brief awakening show at night.

They’re very bummed to learn the Rivers of Light show isn’t happening anymore, so Levi pulls it up on his phone so they can watch it in spirit.

Then Satan learns about the Wilderness Explorers badges and the others spend the rest of the time preventing too much collateral damage over the fact that nobody told him.

Day 3: Epcot

Finally, Lucifer thinks.  Boo, Luke thinks.

Beel didn’t expect this park to be that interesting to him (he’s much more into the wonder and immersion of Hollywood Studios and Magic Kingdom), but then he learned about the restaurants.  China, Norway, France, Mexico, Germany, Morocco, Italy, Japan, Canada--Canada?  Huh.  Canada.  There’s so many different restaurants from so many cuisines to try, and yeah he knows that it’s definitely not the same as going to the place and it’s overpriced (sorry Lucifer), but it’s all right there.  He makes certain to take MC on a deluxe Epcot restaurant tour.

Oh yeah MC.  That’s the first time we’ve heard from them in a while.  They’re doing whatever you want them to I guess.

Levi buys so much from the Japanese gift shops that he has to go back to the hotel for a bit to drop his bags off.

Satan and Diavolo aren’t much better, but their stashes are more varied.

Also, Diavolo found Mouse Gear, and bought everyone a pair of ears.  Lucifer says that everyone has to keep them on because it’s what Lord Diavolo wants, but he is by far the most upset about them.  Mammon snaps a picture and Lucifer throws his DDD into the lake.

Asmo and Belphie decide they’re gonna take it easy this day, and they nab Solomon and Barbatos for some exhibition hopping.

Luke finds Mission Space and please father no Simeon thought he was safe he thought he was safe here no please

Aside from that, though, Luke honestly finds this part of the park boring.  He’d have been more interested in these attractions elsewhere, but as a kid he’s in Disney for roller coasters and Mickey Mouse.

Simeon is very grateful that Luke doesn’t have much that he wants to do, because it means that he can enjoy the Gran Fiesta and Living with the Land boat rides and have a single moment where he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be sick.  He’s not even afraid of the rides; he just gets motion sick easily.

Asmo makes sure to see the Chinese acrobat show, and Mammon catches that with the show-hopping gang since there isn’t much he wants to do here either.

Epcot has alcohol and Solomon hasn’t been able to drink in ages so he really wants to spend some time doing that with MC.  No demons allowed, thank you very much.  He doesn’t hold his liquor as well as he’d like you to believe, but he just gets really talkative when drunk so it’s ok.

Epcot is a nice day to take a breather and Lucifer and Barbatos definitely needed a breather before tomorrow.

Day 4: Magic Kingdom

This is the day Diavolo has been waiting for.  The crème de la crop, the best park for kids and kids in a future king of the Devildom’s body.

Also I feel like now is a good time to mention that this probably isn’t a reasonable order of events because I don’t remember the map layout of these places idk Disney city planning

This time.  This time, Levi, Asmo and Beel are gonna get those autographs, dammit.  Levi doesn’t even know who half of these characters are but hell if he’s not getting their autograph.

Mammon actually really loves the mascots too, but he’s embarrassed about it so he’ll only try to get one if he can use the guise of MC wanting one.  MC, please help him out

Belphie isn’t big on rides, but he does have a soft spot for the more retro ones like Dumbo and Seven Dwarves.  And like I said before, Beel loves Magic Kingdom for its wonder.  So Belphie is perfectly happy being led (read: piggybacked) around by Beel today, because their favorite attractions match up pretty well here.

Actually, Beel’s favorite Disney movie is Lilo and Stitch, but.  RIP Stitch’s Great Escape ride 2004-2018

Diavolo and Lucifer take a moment to enjoy the Carousel of Progress, and they reflect on how much the Human World is always changing and how much about it they still don’t know.  It really does make them think, like.  Grandma found the VR games at Christmas!  The Devildom doesn’t have grandmas!

Mammon is terrified of the Haunted Mansion ride, and Satan has literally never felt so much schadenfreude in his life.

Mammon’s afraid of most rides to be fair, but he likes water rides, so Levi eventually takes pity on him and they go on Splash Mountain together more than once.

The Peter Pan ride broke down

Luke wanted to go on Space Mountain and Simeon was the only one around, so.  RIP Simeon ????-2021

Diavolo was That Guy.  If you know, you know.

Beel accidentally spun the teacups way too fast.  Not even Solomon got out of that one unscathed.

Following that, Solomon manages to drag Barbatos onto the Jungle Cruise while Lucifer is busy.  What is Lucifer busy with?  Riding the Buzz Lightyear shooting ride over and over until he hits every single target and gets a perfect score at a Disney ride, something that is normal to want and possible to achieve.  Anyway, Barbatos finds it really charming and Solomon finds it a nice break that he didn’t know he needed.

While looking for a food place that sells water for a reasonable price, a kid runs up to Asmo asking for a picture and autograph.  He’s kind of confused, but goes along with it to make the kid happy.

Turns out, Asmo’s so naturally charming that they mistook him for a prince.  Other groups see that family and follow suit.  Mammon eventually catches wind of it and shows up to charge a fee.  The parents are pretty sure Disney doesn’t charge fees like that, but their kids really want a pic with Asmo so they hand over the two bucks.  (“Oh it’s so low” come on Mammon’s not a dick to children.)

And that’s the story of how Mammon and Asmo ended up in Disney Jail.  You’re very much not allowed to pretend to be a cast member and then charge money for it.  Lucifer has to bail them out as their “guardian,” and as punishment they aren’t allowed to opt out of It’s a Small World.

Small World isn’t that bad imho, and those like Diavolo, Satan, Simeon, and Levi would like it a lot.  But Lucifer has been playing parent all day, Belphie does not like the noise, and Solomon has literally been on this ride at least fifty times.  Very mixed feelings on this one, but it feels fitting to end with that and a fireworks show.

All in all though this wasn’t the worst trip Lucifer’s been on (cue everyone applauding for some reason).

Barbatos by far had the least fun of them all because for four days he was stuck in a park where the mascot is a fucking rodent and he wasn’t allowed to annihilate Mickey Mouse where he stood

“Disneyland Devildom when” “Lord Diavolo, no”

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #my favorite park is def epcot and my favorite ride is def splash mountain #also my sister helped me out by reminding me about animal kingdom but most of her photos were of random birds

[em0avacado]

Only You

( Angel Reyes x Reader )

trigger warnings : none i think, guys being dudes, soft at the end. Language maybe.

word count : 2.1k ish

You were difficult to figure out, that was one thing you knew very well. You’d grown up around teenage boys all your life, being rough, chaotic and careless is all you knew. It’s who you were. Everyone knew that, but what no one knew? Was that you very, very capable of having a soft spot for someone. It was rare, when you were in highschool you swore to yourself there wouldn’t be another man you’d let close to your heart, and you were doing so well being, well, that bitch™, that when you met Angel Reyes, it threw you off, horribly so. You didn’t know how to handle it, you saw him, and you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself, which, was likely that he wasn’t. It only got worse when you and him quickly became the best of friends. For some reason, when you started liking him a little more than the rest of your friends, you were lost, so unfamiliar with any emotions, having shut that out eons ago. Somehow, you’d worked it out in your head that you had to be more mean to him than the rest of them.

You had come home late from work one night, you were exhausted, and very much irritated when you heard rustling and noise behind your door. Nearly groaning, you shoved the key in your door and let yourself in, clearly, the boys had done the exact same who knows how long ago. You dropped your bag, and keys on the table before wandering into the very noisy living room where Angel, Ez, Coco, and Gilly were sat on your couch, feet up, beer in hands. Clearing your throat was what caught their attention, their cheers of excitement hurting your pounding head. They looked happy, and relaxed. You wouldn’t admit it but that was your favourite thing to see. Except, Angel. He didn’t look impressed.

“well look who decided to show up.” he said with an unimpressed tone, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, sorry I came home late to guests I didn’t invite over.” you muttered, pulling your coat off and setting it aside. “next time i’ll let the boss know I can’t take the last shift there might be a bunch of weird men in my home.”

“you sure it was just a late work shit? You not fucking your boss?” he asked with a hint of.. something? In his tone. Who the hell did this man think he was? Rolling your eyes once again, you didn’t have the patience to fight with Angel tonight, you’d said your boss was attractive once in response of him gushing over some girl at Vicky’s and he hasn’t let it go since.

“Why? You jealous?” you asked, and very quickly got a reaction, he got defensive.

“No.” he nearly spat “why would I be jealous of your boss?” his arms crossed over his chest. The rest of them watched with wide eyes. Except Coco, who was too invested in Tiger King.

“Because you want to fuck me.” you said blatantly, he, and Gilly, choked on their beers as Angel quickly tried to regain himself.

“I do not!” he protested, coughing and wiping at his face.

“mhm.” you hummed, pushing off your boots and heading off to the back, wanting to just have a shower before getting comfortable for the night, hoping to forget, even for just a moment, that there was a bunch of home invaders in your living room. Just as you were shutting your bedroom door, you heard mumbles and a then very clear conversation.

“You wanna fuck [Y/N]?” Gilly asked Angel, Ez could only laugh, he knew his brother, he knew he did.

“no.” grumbled Angel.

“Isn’t that kind of gay?” asked Coco. “I mean - she’s one of us, she’s literally beat you up, she’s a bro. That’d be like fucking me.” You snorted at that, of course he’d say that shit. Always. “Isn’t she.. a lesbian?”

Next you heard “Oh shit I thought she was too.” from Gilly.

“She’s not a lesbian! She thinks Bucky Barns is hot, she’s said she wants him to crush her head with that metal arm of his.” Said Ez, you heard Angel huff like a child.

Great, you thought to yourself, now you have a living room full of idiots trying to figure out your sexuality. You grabbed a towel, rolling your eyes at your friends, and went for your shower. Washing away the days stress, replacing the stench of oil and hard work with your signature cucumber, aloe vera scent. You settled on a thick sweater and plaid pj shorts before heading back into the living room where you expected to see the rest of your friends, now more ready to deal with them until you went to bed, but when you saw no one, you grabbed a water and headed to sleep.

The next few days were an endless series of hectic, and tiresome hours put into work, every day something went wrong. You hadn’t been so close to having a total breakdown in forever, but the weight on your shoulders felt so heavy. You couldn’t wait to go home, you had the next two days off and you couldn’t wait but dream of catching dreams and nothing but that. But when you got to your door, it was unlocked. Pulling the gun from your waist, you cocked it and raised it as you entered, only to find Angel at your table with his head in his hands. Setting down your things, you locked the door behind you and shed your work clothes.

This was a routine whenever either one of you had a particularly hard day, you turned to one another, despite the endless banter, you two easily fell into being each other’s safe haven. You deemed it to be because you understood each other, like best friends did, it worked. At some point, though, you’d began to fall for Angel and you had no idea how to deal with it.

“am I okay to shower?” you asked softly, crouching down beside where he sat, running a gentle hand over his head. He aches for your affections, even the slightest of your touches calmed the man, but he knew that you had to be the one to instigate it. You hated physical contact, it was rare you trusted, let alone liked someone enough to let them touch you. You were picky with it. Angel respected that, though he did sometimes want to just pull you into a hug when his world was spinning, yet he didn’t. You saw it in the way that he involuntarily followed your hand that it was a hard day for him, when he nodded, you gently squeezed his shoulder. “okay, take off your kutte and boots and go lay in bed, i’ll be there after, okay?” when he nodded again and began to move, you headed off to the bathroom quickly to rinse off.

Not all that long after, you’d met him in your room, like you promised. You wore pj shorts, and a tank, he was in his wife beater and boxers. You climbed in, and lifted the comforter wordlessly, inviting him in. He quickly settled against you, his face laid against your chest. You trailed your fingers over his back, drawing soft shapes on his skin a mark that didn’t stain much more than his mind. You both laid in a comfortable silence, his hands were secured at his sides, eventually yours sat in his hair, playing with the short strands as he listened to your heart beat. He never thought he’d be more thankful for someone else’s beating heart.

“Do you like Bucky Barnes more than you like me?” he asked, breaking the silence after a while. You furrowed your brows slightly and looked at him. You saw his glassy brown eyes staring right back at you. Your heart melting at the sight.

“Angel, Bucky is a fictional character.” you answered simply.

“So you do.” he said in disappointment, sighing. Jealousy hung heavy over his head, perhaps it wasn’t just that, perhaps he had an exceedingly difficult day. When he started pulling away from you, you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him in, the gesture was.. sweeter and much more gentle in your head, but everyone knew you weren’t the most graceful, so you accidentally jabbed him not only in the eye, but also picked his nose for him. Dismissing the fact that you did that, you took his face in your hands and had him look to you.

“Bucky Barnes has nothing on you.” you said, doing your best to sound reassuring.

“What about his arm?” he asked, puppy eyes on full display. This man will be the end of you.

“I’d let you run over my head with your bike.” you told him, trialing your thumbs over his cheeks. Something inside you told you that there was a fine line between platonic and romantic, and that you’ve both bolted passed that line ages ago, in private, at least.

“you really mean that?” he asked yet another question, you knew you were playing into his ego but you could only give in to him.

“i do.” you said, yawning. He wrapped his arms around you again, and settled back down. Shutting his eyes. You had a few minutes at best before you were out, and Angel knew that once you started yawning, it only took a little while till you were out.

But the next morning, when you slowly started to come back to the world of the living, you heard Angel mumbled something into the phone. Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you listened in. “I don’t know, man. All I know is that if I don’t leave now, I don’t think I ever will. She doesn’t see me the way I see her, I can’t force this on her, I’ll lose her for good and I’d rather have her as a friend, but I can’t lose her. On god little brother I can’t.” he mumbled, and you felt your chest heat up. He was talking about you. To Ez. Shutting your eyes again for a moment, you took a deep breath and climbed out as you heard him rustling around. You grabbed one of the blankets, surrounding yourself with it to try to warm back up after your toes were kissed by the cold. You headed out of the room, your toes padding against the hard wood floor. You’d caught him in the middle of opening the door, and talking to Ez still.

“Please don’t leave.” You said, your voice soft, almost timid. Angel turned around, looking at you all wide eyed.

“Wh - huh?” he looked at you dumbfounded.

“Come back to bed, I’m cold.” you said, clutching the blanket tighter.

“[Y/N], I - I have to go.” he responded, fumbling with the phone in his hand as Ezekiel yelled at him to get his head out of his ass on the line.

“You’re an idiot.” You quickly shuffled closer to him, letting go of your grasp on the blanket, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands and you lead him closer to you. Looking into his eyes, you felt his hot breath brush against your face, taking a second to really look at him before connecting your lips to his in a soft kiss. This was definitely crossing the friendship line, but he was intoxicating. “Don’t leave now. Don’t leave ever.” you said when your lips parted for air. Your eyes on him, all you heard was his heavy breathing, and the cheering on the other end of the phone.

The sight of you right then and there let Angels heart melt into puddle, he hadn’t seen it before but you looked at him like he was the world, and he was, he was your world, even though you’ve quite literally sucker punched him in the stomach for taking your last cheese bun.

“So she’s not a lesbian right?” you heard Coco ask everyone.

“Coco I’m gonna beat your fucking ass.” you said, grabbing the phone before hanging up. “but first imma eat yours.” you tried to say in a serious voice, but the moment Angels face twisted in disgust, you lost it.

“Way to ruin the moment.” he groaned.

“You want me to bring the moment back?” you asked, raising a brow at him when he nodded. You reached up, brushing back his hair, taming the bed head ever so slightly, you brought your hands down to his beard, scraping your nails gently against it as you brought your lips back to his. “give me another kiss then, baby.” your voice drawled out softly, meeting his lips in a soft, yet passionate kiss.

Taking his hand after a few moments, you pulled him back to the bedroom, he was completely caught in a trance. So, as you walked, you set his phone aside, you pushed off his kutte and tossed it on the couch, you unbuttoned his flannel and tossed it on a close by chair. “Are you trying to fuck me?” he asked, bewildered.

“No, not right now.” you chuckled softly. “I want to lay with you, I want your warmth, and your smiles, and your laughter when I tell you some stupid joke, I want your arms around me. I want to hold you. Only you. Let me feel safe in your arms because I don’t anywhere else.” you admitted, pulling him into you. He looked like a lost puppy as you spoke, but then he fully dove into you, not wanting to look back.

“and after our nap? I’m making waffles.” you said in your donkey impression, making Angel roll his eyes. “Angel baby.. When we fuck I’m gonna moan like I think Donkey does when he and that dragon fuck, okay?” you ask, entirely serious.

“oh god please no.” he laughs, hiding his face in your chest.

Tag List :

@mayans-sauce

@queenbeered

@lilacyennefer

#mayans fanfic #mayans mc #fanfic #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes fanfiction #clayton cardenas

[chaneajoyyy]

Who’s writing new BP fics? It’s feeling kinda dry out here

Oh you gotta keep looking cause they out here!!!

NEW/NEW-ISH BP FICS

- winter wonderland series (25 days of christmas challenge), Chunk series (updated)- @ghostfacekill-monger

- you better watch out series (25 days of christmas challenge), baby daddy series- @teakturn

- couple’s getaway series, message therapist erik, erik and you have relationship issues that need to be resolved, incubus erik x reader series, gamer erik humiliates his girl, christmas wishes & mistletoe kisses series, all vampire eriks stories, drug dealer erik gets ino an entaglement with a married woman series, erik teaching his daughter how to love her dark skin, assassin erik and his girl london make up for lost time-   @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

- all i want series- @thadelightfulone

- the jabari that stole christmas, misfit wakandans, er*k in a box, t’challa’s 12 days of christmas, the jabari-cracker, christmas even will find erik, the coffee prince series (updated), song of stevens (not new but do read), will the bell ring? (updated)-  @eerythingisshaka

- chrismasing with you-  @ceeverse

- mama is wild, how he acts when he’s sick: m’baku “mama’s other baby’ jabari, peaches, how he acts whe he’s sick: erik “i can do it myself” stevens, how he acts when he’s sick: t’challa i’m fine” udaku, final decision, body pillow, the most dangerous game-  @akimi-youngblood

- his majesty, my king series; he chosen bride, a jabari wedding (not so new but do read), he wasn’t mad enough for me, clean-up woman, i wish you would, mistletoe series, dadmonger series- @snowbaku

- what if...?, without question, polaroids, the temple series, queen shuri, wh you are series-  @tchallasbabymama

- biggest puddle ever, crab legs, play fighting, the fight, let me tell you a story, stop, got it bad, what would you do series, sugar babe series, poetic justice, messing w/ erik while he’s playing the game, erik had a reputation of being a fuckboy. tha meant you had to be careful around him. guard your heart. it was a solid plan until he came in and ruined all your plans- @dreamingofmilk

- our christmas, how to feel, warm colors series (not so new but do read), thanksgiving w/ mr. stevens, valentine’s gumbo (sequel to thankgiving with mr. stevens)-  @mermaidchansons

- she likes me, huh? nuh uh, cute enough to eat, screams in the night series (updated), open up, autumn leave & cookie thieves, one way or another, mr. telephone series, you ain’t hear that?- @supersizemeplz (check masterlist)

- anniversary blues, the chosen one series (updated), the sweetest thing series, in the light series-  @devnicolee

- the arrival series, boxer!baku series (updated), fireflies and foot races, sessions-  @muse-of-mbaku

- 85 “you can’t cum unless i say so” & 89 “you’re drooling. you really don’t deserve it though, do you?”, seventy-three, “29, 75 & 82″, “5, 13, & 69″- @marvelmaree

- subconscious- @freddiefcknmercury

- shameful series- @iwrite4poc

- only forever series, what lies beneath series,bunme takes new york (part of space between series)- @dramaqueeenamby

- letters for my love series, just for this moment series, she’s mine series, abiona au series- @sarcastic-sunshines

- redemption series (updated), starlight series, dress up- @airis-paris14

- new start series (with “reader meets erik who is a single father”), round 2 series, reader sleeping over a erik’s, “erik and reader are opposites- like she’s so nice, calm and soft, and erik is mean... as always and his family is so confused on how they’re dating”, imagine where erik and the reader has heir firs date and when he get home he’s super excited and tell his friends how happy and in love he is?, erik with goofy reader on a mission, reader catching erik using her expensice skincare products afer she told him it’s off limit, hug time, erik ghosting after a fight with his gf & she hears he’s out acting single so she decide she’s single too. but he shows up & all like “who said we broke up?”,  reader is not answering her phone and erik is worried/irrirated because the day before he was mean to her and she left his house crying?, an imagine where erik finding out the reader is powerful (like a mutant), erik & mbaku fighting over the reader, found you series, erik helping his need tomboy bff get a makeover & he starts to get jealous of how much attention she starts to get from other guys,  vulnerable soft erik where he and the reader get into an argument and later that night he’s trying to sleep but can’t because she’s refusing to come to bed with him and he has to be vulnerable with her and tells her “you know i can’t sleep without you”?, “short imagine or headcanon ha erik finds out his girlfriend has more body’s then him or his a mafia leader, something between those lines. but instead of being upset for her not telling him he’s actually cool with it”, erik comforting the reader after finding out she lost a loved one and he had a good day, reader learns she’s pregnant and comes up with a creative way to tell erik , erik and the reader are set up on a blind date by mutual friends, “reader is studying for her upcoming test and she is frustrated with the amount of studying she has to do.  erik notices she has been studying for a long time, and tries to do everything to relax her mind”, erik takes reader to wakanda for the first time, erik sees his girl still sleep with a stuffed animal and by kinda makes fun of her but when she puts it up he sees she struggles withouth it?, “imagine with erik inspired by the somg caretaker by dram and sza, like maybe the reader is feeling a bit ill/nauseous and erik to take care of her”, diaper change, sofboi erik where he asks the reader to marry him, hc of erik being jealous of his girl is too close to t’challa? always texting/wanting to hang out when they visit, back to you series, readering driving erik nuts with cravings & mood swings. ex: interrupting his sleep for food runs only to say she doesn’t want that anymore when he returns & demand something else, “ whatever you’re trying to butter me up for, the answer is no”?, how did he meet his love?, life together, your first time, hurting, fears, sick day, jealous series, when you’re sick, night fights, two lines, opening up, newborn, comfort, some love, insecure, first steps, it’s time series, cool down time, first day back- @killmongerdrabbles

- back & forth-  @supremethunda

- baby mama series, again, move, guess, night, nsfw alphabet, bow- @woahitslucyylu

- reactions o their girl’s wap (with erik), erik and reader being petty in the house after an argument-  @tastingmellow

- next lifetime series, days off with erik, girls trip series (updated),the way you make me feel- @theficplug

-  only then am i human series,a little vacation- @opalsandlace

-faded series, waves series, concrete cowboys series, black boys bloom thors first series (volume 3)- @uzumaki-rebellion

- black tie event-  @laketaj24

- genuine, numb- @taterfics

- city boy and his country girl series, wake up, meet the furys- @blackmissfrizzle

- come thru, this lil’ game we play-  @writetimes

- in between the lines series- @melodyofmbaku

- him, her and us series; conversations and coffee trips series, dancing around each oher series, mrs., you again series, where are we now?, cold coffee, here we are again series, summer love (could be any of the marvel men including t’challa); love, apps, and attitudes series; give me a reason (search for t’challa x reader)-  @iliketowrite1996

- homewrecker series (updated), family reunion- @shaekingshitup

- unexpected things happen in the clucky’s drive-thru, where you going: a quarantine quickie, halloween, delicate series, the best man-  @majesticbrownjawn

- i like tha series (updated), shea butter (baby) series  @nachtaiwrites

- the spririt of christmas, dentist series (updated), waiting to get home, best friends series, line love series, hell loves satin: tales of a mascochist, tattoo party- @hearteyes-for-killmonger

- uncharted series (updated), metamorphasis series, the remodel series, the boy is mine series (collab with @dashhoney25), sweet heat, quarantine bae, throttle, sugar, toxic, fair is fair, work boo (updated)-  @soufcakmistress

- caught up series- @twistedcharismaaa

- homebody series- @truglori

- roadtrip series- @cecereads209

- lights out, a better man- @reelwriter19

- you mean it? series, haunted series- @heykillmongerluhme

- end in flames series, my health- @bvlckgirlmvgix (not so new but do check out!)

***PLEASE HIT ME UP TO ADD YOUR STORIES!!!***

#the bp plug #bp librarian at your service #let’s chat #sip tea #talk fanfiction #black panther fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #new/new-ish bp fics #anonny asks

[warmau]

Love Struck!AU x ATEEZ

find other love struck!aus  here: monsta x | day6 hey you! happy valentines days!

hongjoong

a love language that consists of showering you in gifts

and not material things, but handmade treasures

jewelry, love letters, and matching one-of-a-kind decorated phone cases or denim jackets

he feels like his talents are what can show his love best

you sometimes end up with a tower of these gifts in your hands to the point where you’re running out of space in your room on where to put them

he won’t admit it outloud, but seeing you use or wear something he made - make it feel like in one way or another you two are connected by something special 

someone once asks where you got that necklace and you excitedly pull hongjoong over and say he’s the artist who made it

when that person asks if he’ll make something for them

he goes red in the ears and quietly explains

“i only make things for the people i adore, im sorry.”

seonghwa

horrible at trying to keep his composure 

frequently tries to help you with cooking or cleaning or shopping 

and when you accept and he finds himself in close quarters for you. he ....... loses it

sometimes he’ll be one second by your side and the next he’s gone and you’re stranded in the freezer section looking around for him 

while he’s heaving over in the dairy aisle - crazily muttering to himself that there is no way someone can look THAT cute picking out ice cream flavors

tricks himself into confidence but then your hand's brush and wooyoung can SEE seonghwa’s soul leave his body

you’re trying to make a simple dish for dinner and are grumbling about the ingredients you’re missing

seonghwa offers to go out and buy them - already slipping on his shoes

when you turn off the stove and say you’ll go with him!

he tries to refuse, and explain that he wants to help you not burden you furthermore

and when you look up at him and smile - “spending time with you is never a burden!”

well oh my seonghwa thinks he sees stars

(and he does. poor boy crumples backward against the wall with glee and you have to shake him a few times to see if he’s alright)

yunho

more than anything, there are a lot of emotions and it is all ......... very confusing

one moment he’s buzzing around you with so much warmth and taking every chance he can to hear about your day or look at the new book you’re reading

and the other second,,,,,,,,,he’s locked up in his room

hongjoong knocks and says “someone is here and wouldn’t you like to see them?”

and yunho feels like he’s five again, hiding under the blanket because your pretty face makes him nervous and a little scared

he flipflops back and forth and everyone else doesn’t understand it either

one evening you let yourself into his room after knocking a few times with no answer

to see him with his hand against his forehead and his phone in his other hand

you rush over because “are you sick? are you looking up your symptoms?”

and yunho nods

he turns his phone over and you read the recent search:

“im so in love, i think it’s making me catch the flu?”

you look up

“you’re in love?”

“yeah. with you.”

mingi

if he had a tail, it would be wagging whenever you were anywhere in his vicinity

just the sight of you makes him jump and grin and fall like an overgrown puppy over your lap

eyes twinkling with nothing short of adoration 

he always needs to be next to you - if you’re in the car going somewhere

if you’re at the amusement park with the rest of the boys

if you’re all just having a conversation

mingi isn’t the least bit shy about picking hongjoong up and placing him on the other couch so he can be closer to you

although he does get shy about looking your way, peering at you and encountering the chance that you might look back makes him so giddy he can’t sit still

much to the laughter of wooyoung and yeosang who go 

“oh, mingi is wiggling again - that means you know who is on their way.”

(the you know who is,,,,,,,well. you.)

you try something you’ve never done before one afternoon, you put your hand up and run it through mingi’s hair as he tells you excitedly about this dance he’s learned

the sensation makes his hyperness come to a halt and instead he looks at you with wide - bewildered eyes

“sorry, should i not do that?”

he shakes his head

“please keep doing it.........forever.”

san

liar liar pants on absolute raging everyone can tell but you fire 

“i don’t like them. i just think that if i get to sit next to them it’s an advantage for all of us because...........well because they’re wearing blue and im wearing green and those colors COMPLIMENT each other”

something twists in his stomach every time someone points out how much he favors you above all

because if his secret comes out - he could lose you 

so his defense is to: lie

“if i liked them i would just tell them, obviously, im choi san - i dont fear anything!”

correction: he fears rejection. ALOT.

there are days when his lies come out a little painful and the quiver in your smile makes san want to dig a hole and bury himself

the last thing in the world he wants is to make you sad - so one day he decides he can’t risk it anymore

when hongjoong playfully points out that san has been staring at you instead of the movie for the past hour

san takes a handful of popcorn, shrugs, and admits it

“they’re much more interesting than this boring flick.”

although yeosang is painfully ticked off at the fact that san just called a wildlife documentary on bees ‘a boring flick’ 

everyone else is happy he told the truth

you slink down a little in your seat because you’re happy to but ,,,,,, oh ,,,,,, whatever does that mean? 

wooyoung

tries way too hard to become what he has deemed is your “ideal type”

like he hears you like striped sweaters and guess what - if it doesn’t have stripes, wooyoung hasn’t worn it in a month

if you mention liking vanilla flavors well then by gosh darn ,,,,,,,,,, everyone in the ateez house is eating vanilla ice-cream from now on 

because if seonghwa’s hand even reaches for strawberry, wooyoung is like AHEM 

he really doesn’t have to put all this effort into sleuthing out your likes and dislikes 

because the truth is, nothing makes you happier than witnessing him be a total goofball with all the confidence in the world

so when he keeps claming up and trying to do all of these things that you’ve never even seen him do before

you think there’s only one way to make someone who takes everything so literally ,,,,,,,,,,, understand

jongho asks you one day, “so what do you lik-”

and before he can finish you point across the room and go

“i like wooyung. you know, wooyoung wooyoung.”

wooyoung goes so red - he has to hide his face in yeosang’s back before whispering

“how do i become more wooyoung-ish?”

everyone: oh my god you’re ALREADY enough TRUST US

yeosang

gives you the cold shoulder, kind of 

but it’s the antarctic if he thinks you’re showing favoritism toward anyone else 

you once gave jongho a pressed flower you’d made - just because he asked to like,,,,,,see it

and yeosang was found standing in the living room with his face in the corner, lamenting what he had done wrong

san and wooyoung keep teaming up to get you and yeosang alone

but yeosang manages to slip out of their plans like a cat slithering from the hands of an owner when it’s being petty

you mistake it sometimes as annoyance so you try hard to be happy and cheerful and bright

and it just makes yeosang that much more afraid to approach you because ,,,,,, you shine like an angel and what if he does something that dims that light

he’d die

he says as he falls backwards on the bed and his members shake their head 

“you know they think you hate them right?”

jongho says what no one else can and yeosang jumps to his feet 

“they think WHAT?”

you end up with a yeosang who is pleading over the misunderstanding and without even saying it he confesses just how much he likes you and you,,,,,

you whisper in his ear that a matter a fact - he is your favorite, he’s always been

(yeosang flaunts that - and your upcoming date - the whole week)

jongho

no time to dilly dally about it!

he thinks you’re a work of art and well he’s gonna say it

or sing it

i think he’d definitely enjoy the chance to serenade you but he just read an article about how that could be embarrassing so you know what he’ll just stick to letting you know his feelings,,,,,,normally

and jongho, even for being so young - is the only member who thinks shame is a sham

therefore

he will take your hand under the afternoon sunlight, leaning against the window and watching the beams fall on your face

illuminating the features he thinks are just otherworldly

and he’ll tell you 

he’s lovestruck, what more else is there to say? he can repeat it all you want to hear 

the rest of ateez just won’t believe it - did he just make up his mind?!

but jongho knew it from the first moment and he just picked a time where he could say if easily 

“if im going to waste my time pining over you, i think it’s best you know how hard im pining.” 

#been in the queue for this day! #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #mingi scenarios #hongjoong scenarios #san scenarios #yunho scenarios #jongho scenarios #yeosang scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #ateez

[yeeharley]

day two: alone together by fall out boy / only one bed / road trip

⭒

So their choice of motel definitely wasn’t the best.

That actually might be a bit of an understatement- out of all of the motels Harry and Peter could’ve picked in Jersey, this is probably the worst they could’ve gone with. Irony is a bitch like that. 

Peter’s kind of being a bitch, too, with all of his griping about why do we even have to stay in Jersey and we could just drive through, you’re a good driver and i’ll drive home without you if you make me sleep in a motel in Jersey.

Harry knows he won’t. He’s attached to him at this point, and even making Peter stay a night in Jersey can’t make him angry enough for that. He’d never leave him behind.

Peter’s just one of those friends.

“You can’t even drive, dumbass,” Harry had muttered as Peter whined about his innate hatred of Jersey in the passenger seat. “I’m fuckin’ exhausted, man, and I’ve gotta sleep before we drive the rest of the way. You wanna try and drive this car?”

That had shut him up pretty quickly.

For a superhero who throws himself into dangerous situations every day, he’s way too nervous to get behind the wheel of a car. Harry should know- he’s the one who tried to teach him.

So Peter had conceded and Harry had driven for another fifteen minutes to the next motel on the way to the Starks’ cabin upstate (Peter’d wanted to visit after going over to France to see Harry’s dorms, an who was he to say no?). Their backs were all clunking around in the backseat, and under the dark eleven-o’clock sky, the moon was as bright as a spotlight.

The outside of the building was unassuming- cracked pink-ish stucco, a leaf-strewn roof that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in forever, cars parked in nearly every space. Harry had wheeled into the only empty space he was able to find, Peter craning his neck to look up at the motel, and they’d grabbed a suitcase without checking to see whose it was(sharing clothes is fine between friends, right?).

And that’s how they found themselves here.

Standing in the doorway of the only available room, staring in, Peter tucked close to Harry’s elbow with their suitcase clutched in his hands, staring at the one small bed tucked into the corner.

“Oh,” Peter mutters, expression unreadable.

Harry can feel his heart jump- is he not okay with this? He’s fine with taking the floor, of course, anything to make his friend comfortable. 

But is sharing a bed with him really that repulsive? Would it be that awful?

Okay, so he can’t really deny the crush he has on his best friend. That happens sometimes, right? Friends getting crushes on each other? It’ll pass. Totally.

Totally.

“I’ll take the floor,” he says quickly, stepping into the room and moving aside so that Peter doesn’t feel too cramped. “No worries, dude, you can-”

“No!”

Silence.

Harry turns around, brow furrowed, and takes in the wild-haired, wide-eyed, frantic appearance of his best friend. Peter flushes when they make eye contact and tucks the suitcase closer to his chest. Ducks his head. A single dark strand of hair falls into his eyes, and Harry suddenly has the unmistakable urge to brush it away.

Good thing he’s not stupid. Ha. Ha. Haha.

“No,” Peter says again, this time quieter. “Uh- it’s alright. You don’t hafta sleep on the floor.”

Harry tilts his head to one side. Furrows his brow. “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, Peter.”

It doesn’t seem like it should be possible, but Peter’s face looks like it darkens a few shades. He bites his lip, eyes darting up to meet Harry’s before falling back to the floor, and says, “I- uh, I meant. We could just- we could share.” Pause. “I don’t mind.”

Oh.

Oh, okay.

“Ah.” Harry feels his own face grow hot and steps further into the dark-ish room to hide the blush. Is this a good idea? Can he control his feelings enough to avoid confessing? He knows he shouldn’t, knows it’s not a good idea- he’s never been good at hiding things.

But there’s something in Peter’s eyes that tells him that he couldn’t deal with a rejection.

He’s never been good at handling rejection.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry says, clearing his throat when his voice cracks. “Fine.”

Peter seems to relax a bit, then, dropping the suitcase gently to the floor and nodding in a way that seems to be to reassure Harry. He’s been in the same clothes all day- a pair of his good sweatpants and a pizza-fraction t-shirt- and, for a moment, Harry’s sure he’s going to change, but he just slides his shoes off, kicks them aside, and jumps into the bed.

He’s short circuiting. A broken robot. A phone in the water. 

Huh.

The hell is he supposed to do now?

“You coming, Har?” Peter asks, yawning and stretching his arms out over his head. Harry gulps, nods. Kicks his own sneakers off and tosses them into the corner before pulling his jacket off and hopping onto the bed beside Peter, who’s crushed up against the wall.

“This okay?” 

Peter nods as Harry scooches his legs under the threadbare blanket and eases himself back against the mattress. His heart feels like it’s racing a million miles an hour, but he just takes a deep breath and turns onto his side so that he can face Peter, who does the same.

His eyes are closed, so he can’t see the way Harry takes in the way the soft moonlight strokes over his dark lashes and curly hair. The way it hits his lips just right. The way it shines against his high cheekbones, against his perfect nose, against the lobe of his ear and the curve of his neck and-

“Peter?” Harry says, already knowing that he’s going to regret this.

Peter opens his eyes, and even in the low light, they shine like the sun. “Yeah?” He asks, eyes fixed on Harry’s, smiling just a bit.

A deep breath. In, out. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

He braces himself for anger, for disgust, for Peter to launch himself out of bed and yell at him about taking advantage. Nearly closes his eyes.

But Peter isn’t shouting. 

Isn’t frowning.

Isn’t angry.

He’s smiling.

“Okay,” he says quietly, biting his bottom lip with a little grin.

Okay.

Harry’s been holding back for almost a year, and now that he’s got permission, he isn’t going to hesitate. He pushes himself up on his elbows and flips over as deftly as he can so that he’s pretty much on top of Peter (isn’t how he imagined this going, but he’s here now, so there’s no stopping it).

Peter’s flushing like a tomato in the moonlight. He’s careful not to kick Harry as he pushes the covers off of his waist and gently places his hands on his waist, cocking his head to one side like a curious puppy.

“You gonna do it?” He asks, voice almost a whisper.

Harry doesn’t answer. He just ducks his head down, arms bracketing Peter’s face, and kisses him.

And it feels like everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Peter is warm and soft and careful, one hand moving from his waist to rest on the base of his lower back. Harry slowly, gently parts his lips, testing the waters. 

Slides a hand under Peter’s neck and twines his fingers into his curls, snickering at the way Peter gasps just a bit before tugging gently. 

Peter parts his lips, too, moving them against Harry’s once, twice, a third time, before his tongue darts out and swipes against Harry’s. That elicits a full-on laugh, because God. 

Neither of them really know what they’re doing, but it feels good.

This is good.

#wc: 1312 #sorry for the abrupt ending lmao i needed to get ahead on parksborn week so i could do my ten days #I hope you all enjoy! #parksborn week 2020 #parksborn #peter parker #harry osborn #peter parker x harry osborn #peter parker/harry osborn #fluff #road trip #and there was only one bed #idk i can't seem to tag this one very well lmao #silver-bubbles' fanfic

[justaghostingon]

Crack Au: The Remedial license Squad are Magical Girls!

Note: this is a crack au treated seriously for your own amusement, but it is still supposed to be silly so no flames.

Created with @mosaicofdreamsanddragons

Once, back before quirks there were five witches who made a pact, to pass on their powers to those who needed it most in their own forms, so that their legacy could go on forever

And they scattered their wands to the wind.

From then on, those that needed them would find the wand and wear the appearance of one of the magical girls, forced to live out their legacy weither they liked it of not.

I unfortunately, the wands had a very different idea of what made someone ‘need them most’

This was how the green wand fell into Late elementary school Bakugo’s hands

It wa originally scoping out Deku, but then realized it wouldn’t be able to stop the rampant bullying he was experiencing, nor could it be much in the way of defense. So instead it picked Bakugo, the worst of the lot with the most dangerous quirk.

For you see, magic and quirks don’t mess well, and by choosing Bakugo, the wand effectively nullifys his quirk, mid attack on Deku

This naturally horrifies Bakugo, who goes to the doctor, to discover there’s nothing wrong with his quirk, its still there, and chocks it up to beginner anxiety or perhaps a fluke? He’s just a kid afterall.

That night, the wand appears, and explains to Bakugo the deal. He gets his quirk back if he agrees to slay all the shadow monsters for the wand

The catch: the more Bakugo is mean to others, the more shadow monster are generated, as they are literally the pain or a soul given form

Bakugo promptly tries to break the wand in pieces to show exactly what he thinks of blackmail.

Doesn’t work, and he gets a magical girl transformation instead, finding himself in a green dress with a completely different face.

Bakugo freaks out, but realizing if his mom comes in and finds him he’ll be mistaken for an intruder, escapes outside

The wand then guides him to meet the rest of the team, who will help him in his task. And warns him he won’t be able to tell them his name. He also shows him how to use his magic, which is fire based. Oh the irony

Purple: a short girl in a purple dress and a pixie cut whose magic is wind based and can fly - who is actually Inasa, chosen after realizing how cruel Endeavour was and being crushed

Yellow: also short, but this time with childish pigtails and a yellow dress that makes her look very young and whose power is earth - Camie, who after being bullied for hitting puberty early wished to look different, and got her answer

Blue: tall girl with long, flowing blue hair in an elaborate braid who looks like a princess and whose power is water based- Shoto. Unlike the others, Shoto is a legacy. His sister had the wand before him and after his mother scarring him and their brother dying, begged the wand to take him when she got too old. It complied with her request. She’s the one who styled his hair

All of the others are way happier with their new lot in life than Bakugo, and also apparently none of them have their quirks on the line.

“We just loose them temporarily when a monster’s nearby” Camie explains with the flip of her hair. “What did u do to get it to remove it completely?”

Bakugo doesn’t feel like explaining, instead deciding to leave these extras and fight the beast himself

Which fails. Because he’s working with magic not his quirk, and he can’t take it alone anymore.

But the rest of the team save his butt, and in the course of it he manages to do well enough that the wand agrees to lift his quirk ban to what the others have, with the warning that if he picks on anyone, he loses it again until the next monster is beaten

This has, mixed results, as Bakugo struggles for the first time in his young life to not be a jerk, and loses it multiple times

To make matters worse, Deku has noticed he’s struggling, and keeps trying to help him, looking up all sorts of theories as to why he’s losing it (including quirk stealers)

Bakugo gets mad, feeling patronized, and lashes out, losing his quirk, and witnessing for the first time one of the giant shadow beasts come out of him.

Bakugo drags Deku away (since he touched Deku, deku can temporarily see it) and then the wand appears and tells Bakugo that the shadow monsters come from hurting human souls, the bigger yhe more pain the person was in, and didn’t he tell him to leave Deku alone? (Deku can’t hear the wand)

Bakugo curses, pushed Deku aside, grabs wand and transforms, and tries to fight the beast that’s even bigger than last time. Only to run into the problem of Deku, who doesn’t want him to kill it because he thinks it “ate Kacchan” (he didn’t see the transformation) and wants to save him.

Instead of explaining, Bakugo knocks him aside again, tells him he doesn’t care, and attacks, while the rest of the team show up to help and scold Bakugo for getting in over their (they don’t know anyone’s gender so call each other their) head, again.

The monster is vanquished, but Deku is furious, yelling at them for letting Bakugo die instead of trying to save him. None of the others know who Bakugo is, so they are equally perplexed. Bakugo discovers he can be mean(ish) to Deku in this form, tells him to beat it. To which the rest of the team jump on him for, especially Shoto, who says “he’s lost someone he cares about, have a heart”

Then real heroes show up and all four promptly remember vigilantism is illegal and scram. Bakugo shows up dressed normal, to Deku’s intense relief, but the damage has been done, and Deku tells the heroes the new vigilantees were cruel and left his friend to die.

So now the team has the heroes against them too

Bakugo scolds Deku for saying that, to which Deku looks him right in the eye and goes. “Those people weren’t heroes Kacchan. Heroes don’t behave like that.”

Bakugo wants to protest, but the wand reminds him that Deku doesn’t know its him, and does he really want to upset the boy who can summon giant shadow monsters at the slightest provocation?

Its the first time Bakugo gets a look at what Deku’s honest scorn looks like

Thus begins the teams greatest rival, in the form of one hero nerd with to much time on his hands, determined to avenge Kacchan, stop the dangerous hero pretenders, and discover the team’s secrets

He even comes to the almost correct conclusion that green is using Bakugo’s quirk to fuel their power

Eventually the team has to try and show him it was a missunderstanding, and the others win him over slowly. He doesn’t fully trust Bakugo’s alter ego though, to his great annoyance.

But the gang have bigger problems, including the fifth magical girl, a corrupted one who held on to long to their wand and started to use the safety of the wand to help commit small crimes

I’m not sure who it is, but it might be one of the league of villians, either Shigaraki, dabi, or Twice. Or it’s someone completely new.

Whoever they are, they’ve got the last wand and a pink dress, with power over peoples hearts they use to make them do things and give them things (and was supposed to go to their next leader)

The team do get the rogue away from their wand eventually, but it takes a while.

It then passes to a very small girl named Eri, but none of them know that as she doesn’t join them much, and when she inherts it they’re already graduating middle school and forced to give it up

This is very tough on the team, purple (Inasa) hugs them all and tells them he’ll miss them all. Blue (shoto) breaks down crying and confesses he’s never had friends before them. Yellow (Camie) says they’ll always be connected. Even Bakugo realizes he’ll miss them, if only just a little. Its him who tells them he’s going to be a hero at UA, so they can watch him from there.

They reveal their all going to be heroes too, blue in UA and the others In shiketsu. Yellow (Camie) says its a sign they’ll see each other again. Bakugo says he’ll crush them all.

When they are reunited, its not until after the revisional liscense that they actually figure out who each other are, since working together is so familiar

But mainly because some punk kid insulted magical girls as hasbeens and Bakugo got so offended the others all collectively went “yup, that’s green” and then looked at each other in shock

Shoto is super disappointed he didn’t realize that Deku’s Kacchan was Green this whole time! His money had been on Monoma (for all his angry declarations) or Shinsou (for picking a fight with the most dangerous players first)

Inasa is super hurt that Blue is Shoto, but more forgiving of their last interactions

And Camie is super stoked that Purple is Inasa, because its nice to know she made the same friend twice.

She makes everyone give her their numbers and creates a group chat

Shoto invites Deku to the chat, and Bakugo blocks them (he gets added back anyways)

#bnha #bakugo katsuki #bnha camie #bnha inasa #shoto torodoki #izuku midoriya #magical girl au #crack au #bakugo the very relucant magical girl #bakugo’s getting force fed character development if it kills him #magical girl bakugo #magical girl shoto #magical girl inasa #magical girl camie #remedial license squad are magical girls

[girllovescomic]

Winter Begonia episode 2 recap

This episode is another beautifully shot, well-acted by all the actors involved.  We get more insight on our main characters, including Er Nainai, a showcase of Shang Xirui’s creative genius, his unwillingness to kiss ass and kowtow to authorities, Cheng Fengtai’s understanding of our artist and his willingness to protect him when the occasion arises, which draws some criticism from his wife. And lastly we get a glimpse at the world of politics and entertainment congregating in Beiping, where Nationalist ministers and warlords vie for power while claiming to fight the growing Japanese threats, and entertainers must thread lightly not to buck tradition and be caught in the middle of this chaotic environment.

 Ok, starting from now I will be using acronyms to talk about our lovebirds  BFF.

We kick off the second episode right where we left off.  President Zheng goes to check out what is the cause of the commotion and our dapper daddy, Cheng Fengtai equally intrigued follows, but not before telling lil’ sis to stay put. 

 He doesn’t understand what could have caused the audience, which was enjoying the performance to suddenly switch and jeer.  President Zheng explains that Shang Xirui changed the lyrics and the opera, going against the rule set by Beijing Opera Mafia erm... I mean Association/community, and they are punishing him for it. Basically, our lil penguin does not play by the rule set by these boring fuddies and they are intent on crushing him.

He goes on to say that SXR is an outsider and a rebel who does whatever pleases him, much to the consternation of the established Beiping clique.  

CFT does not see the issue in him changing the opera since it would be boring if he did the same thing as others.  In short, he thinks being an innovator is a cool thing to do.  Zheng replies that because CFT was Westernized he doesn’t understand the proprieties of Beiping Opera. Being a lone wolf against the majority will draw him the ire of the mainstream.  Hmmm... sounds like someone... 

Cheng Fengtai indeed comments that him and SXR are kindred spirits, since they are both outsiders who buck to the system, which President Zheng is quick to deny, but you can tell that is exactly what he is thinking and Cheng knows.  He adds that giving 50% of their profits to the anti-Japanese effort is a small price to pay to ensure peace and longevity in their businesses and country. Zheng bemoans that SXR antics messed up his possible deal with CFT and leaves angrily.  

CFT sees one of the ruffians get a tea kettle and throw the hot liquid onto SXR, who remains the consummate professional continuing to sing despite the mishap.  CFT walks toward the stage to ask the man who threw the hot liquid why he did that.  

The man replies that SXR messed with Yang Guifei, to which CFT replies that if there is someone to blame for messing with Yang Guifei, it would be her lecherous father-in-law who forced her to divorce his son, go to a nunnery and then become his concubine.  OMG, this is too funny! 

The man tells CFT to mind his business and attempts to climb the stage to probably harm SXR, which CFT stops, telling the ruffian that he has two options: to either listen to the end of the show or get the f out.  The ruffian who doesn’t seem to know that CFT is a big shot throws a right cross onto his beautiful face.  Oh no bish, you didn’t! CFT says this has been a long time someone dare to hit him.  He hits the man back and is roughed up by the man’s crew.  

The theater manager finally steps in (took you long enough) and fight off the ruffians.  CFT asks the manager why he didn’t step him earlier, which the manager feels wronged, informing CFT that he had spotted the ruffians who apparently are well-known gangsters,  but since they didn’t seem to target the VIP area, he didn’t take actions.  This does not please CFT who reminds him about the first floor where the main audience and the performers are located and could have been endangered.  Cha Cha’er runs to check on her brother’s well-being while the manager brings the ruffians to let them know they messed with the wrong man (CFT).  While this is all happening, the opera troupe is still doing their performance, not missing a beat.  The manager urges SXR to end the performance since the entire audience is gone.  CFT reminds him that he is still there, along with his lil sis and since he took a punch for SXR, he better continue his performance.  He sits down with Cha Cha’er and looks on, while having flashback of his mother, who apparently used to perform the same opera, Drunken Beauty for him.  

The person in charge of his costumes tells SXR that the dress is ruined because of the tea, which apparently left a stain and smell.  SXR is chided by one of his troupe member for changing the lyrics, leading to the disturbance.  SXR replies that how is he supposed to know if something is going to work if he doesn’t perform, and ooph, I feel this in my musician soul. He gets up, asking for some wine and spits it onto the dress.  I guess its to remove the stain, but it apparently does not work.  The theater’s manager is walking with CFT and Cha Cha’er through the backstage area and takes him to SXR suite.  He announces to SXR that he has a visitor, which makes the singer to gulp the wine in his mouth.  This is the first time either one are meeting in the flesh and I swear you can feel the attraction in the air. SXR in his beautiful makeup meeting the debonair Westernized businessman.  Sparks are flying guys and I feel a little hot under the collar.  

CFT tells the singer that he must have been shocked by everything while SXR thanks him for stepping in when he did. He apologizes for causing the nasty bruise on CFT beautiful face, which the debonair is surprised the singer even noticed, considering he never stopped performing.  SXR informs him that as performers they are used to such things and are trained never to step off the stage until the last note.  Best girl Xiao Lai comes in to inquire about the bruise on SXR head that was caused by Cha Cha’er perfect throw.  CFT apologizes on behalf of his little sister, to which the guilty party adds an apology, calling SXR “Jiějiě”aka elder sister, mistaking him for a girl.  Oh girl, I understand the confusion.  CFT corrects her that the person standing in front of him, may look like a beautiful girl, but she should call him Gege. SXR tells her that she is right to call him Jiejie since he has not removed his makeup, therefore he can be seen as a woman. This part is so comical that even La Yuehong, one of the troupe members chuckles. 

Does Cha Cha’er sees her Gege’s heart eyes?

CFT offers a ride home, which SXR turns down since he has to move all of his stuff out of the theater since this will be his last performance at Huibin and will look elsewhere to perform.  The manager feels slighted, to which SXR lets him know, in a very subtle way that he didn’t do his job to stop the disturbance and if it wasn’t for CFT, the ruffians probably would have harmed him. The manager offers to compensate as long as SXR finishes his obligation with the theater, since he doesn’t have anyone else.  The singer agrees to do so without asking for more money, but only if the manager agrees to let him do Drunken Beauty in his last show, which the manager agrees.  SXR apologizes to CFT for boring him with tedious backstage squabbles.  CFT understands and tells him he is leaving.  In a gesture of gratitude for CFT standing up for him, he asks Xiao Lai to let CFT borrow one of his best looking coat, since CFT apparently lost his jacket in the scuffle.

 CFT thanks him, to which SXR tells him not to mention those words to him in the future, since he owes a great debt of gratitude for agreeing to repair his costume to the cost of his business and for being attacked in the theater because of him. Xiao Lai buttons the coat and I swear, I wished they had replicated the scene from the novel when it is SXR who buttons the coat.  CFT is surprised to hear that SXR knows who he is and agrees to come again to watch SXR performance.  CFT leaves the theater, looking gorgeous (ovaries exploding) in the coat.  He glances at the poster with a look of intrigue for the man he has just met and I bet his statement about not believing an entertainer could be that charismatic is coming back to haunt him.

At home, his wife is unhappy that he acted like a hero tonight, which he responds that every great hero would show weakness in the presence of a beautiful lady and OMG, I can’t!!!! I can’t believe this was no censored!  He yells out in pain, as he tries to laugh at his joke (really, that was joke, lol, ok). Er Nainai tells him to cut the crap and that for all the years they’ve been married, she never that he could fight.  Gotta say, he cannot hold his own in a fight, that is for sure, but somehow he fought the ruffians for SXR.  

She wonders why he would do it for superstar who probably has seen many fans harmed themselves for him.  She adds that if he wasn’t a high status man, SXR would probably not bat an eye toward him.  Wait, is she basically calling my lil honeybun a golddigger?  Lol, his face in this cut is how I felt 

She chides for being a busybody, which he answers that it is not uncommon for a man to get in trouble when fighting, so why is she so mad.  Er Nainai reveals her insecurities as she obviously remembers what Mei Xin told her the day before.  She knows she is too country for the debonair CFT, having paid a dowry to be his wife due to his circumstances and is lacking compared to the socialites in Beiping, feeling inadequate for him.  CFT does not understand why she always bring this ish up, telling her that he is forever grateful to have marry her and remembers all her good qualities.  Yeah, this does not sound like a love declaration but you can tell he does have great affection for her and will probably never leave her.  

She reminds him of Cha Cha’er status in 1930s China, where noble ladies are not supposed to be seen in public (oh boy, did you forget your husband has a Western outlook about things?). Surprisingly he agrees to listen to her, which shows how much he actually respect her point of view.  Seriously, sis, you have a good husband, even if he may not be romantic or see you as his soulmate.

Meanwhile, in la casa de Shang Xirui, the atmosphere is starkly different.  Everyone is quiet, but you can tell there is a lot of tension.  The troupe is looking their leader, with a lot on their minds.  One of the singers broaches the subject of the manager willfully letting the ruffians cause the disturbance and not lifting a finger to help, in an effort to embarrass SXR.  She adds that he was rash for telling the manager he will leave.  SXR knows the whole hoopla is due to him changing the lyrics causing the attendance to leave before the end of the show leading to a major loss in business for the theater.  He realizes this gave an opportunity for the theater to retaliate, hence why he wants to move out.  This displeases the actress since they have not found another theater to perform, which could cost them a loss in revenue.  Stubbornly, SXR informs that he will simply find another theater to play since he has received many offers.  The girl continues to what seems to be the crux of her complaint. She was the one to pick the gift for Jiang Rou Shou and all SXR had to do was to make an appearance at the feast, which he failed to do, causing the Boss Jiang to slam the table in anger.  She wants her leader to go and curry some favors toward the old fart Grandmaster, which angers SXR, who tells his crew that he does not need to suck up to a pompous ass like Jiang Rou Shou in order to perform, that his popularity and talent is enough to carry him and his troupe to fame.  He orders them to eat.

Talking about a pompous ass, we get to see Asian Crispin Glover, Jiang Dengbao strutting in the street.  He is called out by a man who is apparently hiding out. He wants to know what happened during last night’s performance and it turns out he was the one who sent those gangsters to create chaos and harm SXR. The man informs him that his crew was arrested because they encountered Commander Cao’s brother-in-law, Er Ye, and that he barely escaped.  Like the coward that he is, Dengbao tells him to act like they never met and scurries out like the bish he is.  Unfortunately for him, the cops visit his father and Little Bao knows he is in big doodoo.  Senior Jiang asks him if he was behind the ruffians which he quickly denies, but all in vain, since his father knows the truth.  The gangsters sold him out as soon as they entered the station.  LOL, what kind of villain is he!!! He admits that he did send these ruffians because he cannot stand how arrogant SXR is, but his father is dissatisfied because he acted without a plan, which will only cause SXR to be more popular if his involvement is found out.  His father tells him to be patient and to find a way to strike at the right time. His stupid plot only revealed how dumb he is.  

CFT and his socialite brother-in-law, Fan Lian enter what appears to be one of the private salons where the wealthy go for entertainment. There, SXR sans makeup is performing on stage. CFT does not recognize him, asking Fan Lian who is this scholarly looking young man on the stage who seems to have drawn a large crowd.  Fan Lian informs him that he took a punch for him, much to CFT’s dismay at how different he looks without the costume and makeup, in terms of look, gestures and attitude.  

He learns SXR was invited because Fan Lian is one of his biggest fan, but apparently, the singer had always turned him down until today, upon learning that CFT will also be present.  OOOOHHHHHH.  SXR walks straight toward CFT after finishing his performance, much to crowd’s surprise. They exchange handshakes and SXR once again apologizes for what transpired in the theater the other night. Fan Lian reminds CFT their mahjong game is about to start, and SXR tells them to pay no mind to him.  CFT excuses himself and leaves with Fan Lian, while SXR stares at the fine piece of manly man walking away.  Gaze away sis, gaze away!

Apparently this is not CFT lucky day at the game, losing to Fan Lian, who teases him for leaving his lucky charm Cha Cha’er .  Exasperated for losing, CFT tells them he needs to go to the restroom, which Fan Lian thinks its trick to dash.  CFT gives him a look and asks if he is trying to clean out only members of his family instead of the other players on the table. He walks back to the stage where the crowd is urging SXR to do an encore. CFT once again rescues our cinnamon bun from the fans who wants him to continue.�� SXR tells him it is okay since these spoiled rich kids rarely get a chance to hear Beijing Opera.  One of the kids comments how dedicated SXR is to his craft, to which CFT jokes that since the young master’s family operates a brothel, shouldn’t he strip dance to show his dedication.  OMG, I love this guy. He invites SXR to follow him onto the terrace.  

Rescuing his beauty from rabid fans

Xirui surprised that he has a hero to come rescue him

Sassy Fengtai

Inviting his beauty to follow

Because they need go have their romantic date, bro. Mind your business! The beauty is happy to be swept away

 Nah Hah, let them go on their romantic date

There, they have a little tete-a-tete and I swear the entire atmosphere is romantic. The waiter comes with hot tea and pours a cup for SXR when CFT realizes the singer may be wary of being drugged or worse, having his vocal cords damaged and takes away the cup. Showing that he trusts the businessman, he grabs the cup back and drinks from it. He tells CFT during autumn his throat is not in good condition because of the weather. 

CFT tells him how surprised to see him, dressed plainly, looking more like a young scholar.  He compliments him for the red flower, which he states makes him look mischievous, drawing a chuckle from the singer.  SXR informs him that one of the fans gave him the flower while he was performing the Emperor and the Country Girl. He usually does not wear fancy bright clothes off the stage because it will be too much. CFT agrees that his costumes are beautiful and extravagant, costing a lot of money.  SXR tells him that since he has no one to take care of, he can afford to spend most of his earnings on beautiful clothing because it enhances his performance and I totally get it! He thinks  Er Ye will see him as foolish, but CFT gets that he is a free spirit. 

 He informs him that what happened with the ruffians was planned and that Dengbao is behind it. He wants to know how SXR wants to handle it.  SXR seems unfazed by the information and tells him to set them free after beating the shit out of them.  He understands why Dengbao did it, since this is par for the course and the slight toward his dad, however since CFT was also harmed, he is afraid CFT might be unhappy. OMG why are so cute!!!! CFT answers the ruffians should be beaten twice then before being let go, eliciting a genuine laughter from SXR. SXR doesn’t know how to thank him, then removes the flower, gets up and puts it on CFT lapel, tells him that he offers the flower so he can be equally mischievous and I swear I fainted.  How is this bromance???   

The romantic scene is interrupting by some rude person who informs him that third wheel Fan Lian is calling him out, probably to win more money off him.  In a soft voice that would make you melt, CFT tells SXR to come with him as he will protect him from the fans.

They sit together in the mahjong parlor and Fan Lian comments about the flower.  CFT tells SXR that Fan Lian does not like to be upstage by someone better looking than him.  Is he talking about himself or Shang Lao Ban? If you are me, you know where my mind is going. He invites him to play, but SXR has no idea how, he should simply pick tiles for him.  SXR is afraid to do so because he doesn’t want his bae friend to lose and having to fork out some money. Even third wheel Fan Lian urge him to pick tiles for CFT, in the hopes that he will get more money from his brother-in-law. SXR does so and places the tile in the middle of his palm, showing his beautiful hand. It turns out to be a winning tile, which prompt CFT to see SXR as his lucky charm.  Our sweet penguin is smiling as bae won big.

Happy penguin

The next day, SXR is once again inspecting his costume when CFT enters the shipping office.  He greets SXR and asks if he is going to nitpick him again. He offers to help inspect the embroidered dress, grabbing a flashlight so he can see better.  While SXR inspects, showing off his well-manicured hands, which makes me envious, CFT is enthralled by the other man and asks if it is to is pleasing.  SXR in his Sheng (male roles) voice responds with an opera lyric that shows his satisfaction.  CFT offers to send the dress to his home.  

Waiting for his senpai approval

On his way, SXR sees a banner asking for donation to help fund the anti-Japanese effort.  We get a glimpse at the arduous training opera members have to go through when Niu Lao Ban comes in to inform him that Kuomintang minister Jin has invited members of the association to sing for the fundraising,  SXR is eager to participate and is informed that he will not do so in costume or makeup, and won’t even have his full accompaniment, just a huqin (Chinese violin). Basically he will not be paid for the performance, which does not seemed to bother SXR.  He asks if two of his idols, Ning Jiulang and Hou Yukei will make an appearance and is disappointed when he learns they won’t. He picks the opera he will sing, which prompt Niu Lao Ban to urge him to change because the opera might be too boring, but SXR tells him the way he will play will be exciting.  Oh this man is quite confident. 

At the event, both Fan Lian and CFT are also attending.  CFT informs Fan Lian the money will partially go to minister Jin’s pocket and the rest to his brother-in-law, Commander Cao, essentially embezzling the money while making himself look good. Apparently, there is confrontation brewing between the two strongmen. 

Fan Lian is not interested in the politics, letting CFT know that SXR will perform, which makes CFT perk up and comments how he will end up an expert in opera for hanging out with both of them. 

 We see Mr. World, weasel Dengbao talking to one of Minister Jin’s people and you know they are up to no good when Niu Lao Bang is trying to coax the huqin player to stay. 

Apparently the man got into an argument with SXR, which pleases Dengbao.  Minister Jin witnesses the outburst and tells Niu Lao Ban to let SXR not to mess things up for him or he will shot in place.  Dengbao scurries toward his father to let him know the good news.  SXR was mad the violinist drank before getting on stage, causing the outburst.

Daddy Jiang sees this as a good opportunity to put SXR in his place.

Minister Jin who has witnessed the outburst with the violinist wants Niu Baiwen to remind SXR that this is his party and anyone who messes with it will be shot in place. No one can be a bigger diva than him.

Daddy overhears the veiled threat and is not pleased.

Meanwhile Niu Lang Bao is fretting while SXR is cool and collected, letting him that he is waiting on an item.  We get a full introduction of SXR huge appetite as Xiao Lai brings him a huge pork trotter, which he literally inhales it in the least elegant way possible, showing he is a man after all.  How he maintains his figure his beyond me and I am jealous.

Seriously no elegance at all!

Weasel Dengbao calls out to SXR letting him know that his father wants to speak with him

We learn Boss Jiang wants SXR to apologize for missing his birthday (dude, let it go!) and do everything he asks.  In return he will be his accompanist. Of course, my lil penguin graciously turns down the offer.  Boss Jiang lets him know not to mess with powerful men like Minister Jin who are capable of doing anything for power, which SXR points out Boss Jiang is the same, sending people to harm him only because he didn’t curry favors. No one puts baby in the corner!

    While our lil bae sneers at the obvious attempt to undermine him

Here comes the dashing hero, which surprises SXR.  CFT tells him that he had planned to stay and listen to his performance, but now that Minister Jin has placed a bounty on SXR’s head, this is no longer possible. 

 CFT wants to sweep his damsel to his castle...hmm I mean hide him at the cargo’s office until things cool down. SXR tells him that despite CFT being the great hero that he is, SXR is no damsel in distress.  He should go back to his table and watch how much of a hero he is. WHAT A LINE!!

Oof, after the amazing premiere episode, the second episode truly kicks things in gear, wasting no time to set up the couple/bosom friends.  They meet and sparks fly.  The instant attraction, the ease of their conversation, the romantic scene on the terrace which I have seen so many times and never get tired of.  CFT seems compel to protect his lil penguin from the spoiled brats who have no regards for his well-being or the corrupt politicians who care more about their image than the music.  However, our lil cinnamon is no damsel in distress, he is a man who can take care of himself and intends to show it to his boo friend.  Normally a drama would settle and slow its pace in episode 2, but not Winter Begonia. The episode served a purpose to flesh out the characters and show how the budding relationship starts. 

#winter begonia #cheng fengtai #shang xirui #episode recap #obsession #bromance #danmei #yaoi #shounenai #andrew yin #huang xiaoming #Yin Zheng

[lindalevanimamm]

Reality- Chapter 6

I woke up feeling anxious. Today I’d leave my life behind. What if this isn’t what I should do? What if my life just gets worse? Will Saeyoung really want to be with me? Does he really want me to go, or am I just going to be left behind eventually? What if everyone else doesn’t like me either? What if I’m still completely alone after this? I felt something moving next to me and I whipped my head around to see Saeyoung waking up. Oh yeah. I completely broke down again yesterday. Geez I’m a horrible person. I hope he’s not worried. “Is everything okay?” Saeyoung asked. 

“Mhm,” I replied. 

“No it’s not. I could feel your thoughts so loud it woke me up. What’s going on? Are you worried about leaving?” I bit my lip. I can’t burden him even more. I’m sure he’s nervous about it too. So much of his life has changed already. Going through all the Mint Eye stuff, Saeran, then breaking out of a game and coming here, I don’t need to add more on top of that. Only share enough to get him to stop. 

“Yeah, I’m a little nervous,” I finally told him. He smiled at me. 

“Don’t be. Everything will be fine. Is there anything you want to get done before we go?”

“I think I’m good. I can make us some breakfast and then shower and then we can go.” I got out of my bed to go do just that. I threw a cardigan on before heading out to my kitchen. The temperature in my apartment had apparently dropped last night and it was freezing. Once in the kitchen I started making pancakes. It was a big day, so why not start it with something I like. What am I going to do with all this food? I can’t take it and I can’t leave it to just rot...maybe I can stop off at a food bank and see if they’ll take it before we go. Ugh I’m so nervous. Everything is changing. It’s almost too much and too fast for me. I’m going to be in an entirely new universe. I’m not going to know anything. New town, new people, new life. I won’t be in school for a while. I’ll have to find a job. Maybe this is a bad idea. But I have no reason to keep living here. I’m not really leaving anything behind. But am I really leaving my life behind for a guy I’ve really only just met? Sure I know him through the game, but that doesn’t really mean I know him. What if he ends up completely different? What if the whole RFA is different? Their personalities could be completely different, they could hate me...what am I going to do if- 

“Hey are you good (Y/N)?” Saeyoung asked. I jumped, dropping the spoon I was using to mix the batter. I didn’t think he’d be up so quickly. 

“Yeah,” I answered, bending down to pick up the spoon I dropped.

“You’ve been mixing that batter for like three minutes…”

“Really?” I asked. 

“Yeah...really.”

“I guess I’m just a bit distracted. I'm fine.” 

“You sure? I know this is all a lot.” 

“Yeah,” I lied. Honestly this is all too much. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m leaving everything I know behind. I felt my heartbeat start to quicken. My hands sweat and I struggled to breath. Get over it. You’re fine (Y/N). You don’t have time for this. I tried to ignore the oncoming panic attack and continued to try to make the pancakes. I was shaking and dropped the pan instead of placing it on the stove. Saeyoung was quick to catch it and place it on the stove. I kept my head down and focused on my breathing. In and out. In and out. I could feel Saeyoung watching me in worry. Stop. You’re fine. You can’t make him worry. I went to grab the batter, but I was stopped by Saeyoung. He got to the batter before me. I looked up confused. He smiled. It calmed me down, just slightly. 

“I’ll finish this. I know you’re going through a lot. Just go try to relax,” he urged me. 

“Saeyoung I’m fine,” I argued. 

“No (Y/N), you’re not. You’re literally shaking with nerves. I’ll give you two options. Let me take over here, or we both sit down and you tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m fine. This happens all the time, it’s nothing. I’m doing great, just let me make them.”

“I won’t let you.” I reached for the bowl and Saeyoung lifted it above his head so I couldn’t reach it. I frowned at him. Way to go (Y/N), now you’ve made him worry over nothing. I decided to give up and left the kitchen. I went and sat on my bed. My breathing had returned to normal, but I was still sweating and shaking. Why do you always do this? Why can’t you just be normal and be excited about new things? I put my earbuds in, once again, and listened to music. I closed my eyes and focused on it. I don’t want to think. I made Saeyoung worry about nothing and now he feels like he has to do this. 

I felt a hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me. I slowly opened my eyes, not realizing that I had fallen back to sleep. Saeyoung smiled at me. 

“Pancakes are done!” I just nodded my head. Saeyoung turned around and headed back for my kitchen. I took a deep breath and followed. I smiled as I noticed he had burnt half the pancakes. I laughed. 

“What?” Saeyoung asked. 

“I didn’t know someone could be so bad at cooking pancakes. You should have just let me finish them!” He frowned. 

“Well, just enough for both of us turned out fine, so who cares!” I laughed and sat down to eat. Saeyoung and I made small conversation, not talking about what happened earlier, which I was thankful for. After we were done, we washed the dishes and set them in the cupboards they belong in. 

“Oh uh, before we go I’m going to see if a food bank or someone will take my food so it won’t be wasted,” I told Saeyoung. 

“That’s a good idea! When do you want to go?” I thought for a moment. Better to just get it over with. 

“Now.” Saeyoung looked at me in surprise. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” With that we grabbed all of my few things. Thankfully it all fit into a few suitcases and a box, so we could take the bus to wherever the machine was. We got on the bus and headed to the closest food bank. I gave them the food and they thanked me and assured me that it would go to someone in need. We got back onto the bus and were on it for what felt like forever.

“How far away is this?” I asked Saeyoung. 

“Just two more stops and a short walk. I wanted to make sure it wouldn’t be found by anyone. If someone stumbled upon it they probably would freak out,” he answered. I nodded and we spent the rest of the bus ride in silence. Almost there. Almost to a whole new world. Haha just like Ariel, but Ariel was more normal than me. She had friends that supported her, I don’t. The bus stopped and Saeyoung got up. I followed behind him. We ended up at a small apartment building. He led me to an apartment. I could tell it was his because of the extra security on it. After a minute of him just unlocking the door, we went in. I don’t know what I was expecting the portal to look like, but it wasn’t this. My jaw dropped. The apartment had nothing in it but the machine. It was round and glowed. It was made of a lot of different metals, it was quite beautiful. It glowed a blue-ish green-ish color, but the center of it was just black. The machine made a very soft humming sound, one that people would pass off as a dishwasher. I looked over at Saeyoung. He moved to a computer looking object that was connected to the machine and began typing away. I sat silently next to him and watched. Slightly afraid that if I spoke or distracted him, he’d act like he did in his route and yell at me. After about ten minutes he looked up and smiled. 

“Alright. Everything is ready to go, are you?” he asked. 

“I think so,” I quietly replied, still nervous about it all. 

“You don’t need to worry, I’ll help you in any way I can so you can adjust. If you don’t want to be alone the first day, or even week, I’ll stay with you. The other RFA members are excited to meet you for real, but they all agreed to wait until you felt ready.” 

“Okay,” I took a deep breath in. “Let’s go.” Saeyoung reached out his hand to me, which I gratefully accepted. Together we walked through the portal. The portal to his universe, to my new life. 

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

My head was pounding when I gained consciousness. I slowly opened my eyes, trying to adjust to the light. That was weirder than I expected. I don’t remember anything after walking through the portal. Where’s Saeyoung? How long has it been? More importantly, where am I? I heard a voice speaking, muffled a bit. It was slightly unfamiliar. I fully opened my eyes and saw someone that wasn’t Saeyoung, but looked a lot like him. I was confused and then I realized who it must be. 

“S-Saeran?” I asked, my voice sounding hoarse. My hearing was starting to work again. 

“Saeyoung! She’s up!” I could hear him yell. He smiled slightly at me. “He’ll be here soon. How do you feel?” 

“Like shit,” I replied. He nodded. Soon after I saw Saeyoung come running over to me. I tried to sit up from where I was, but gave up and laid back down. 

“Hey how are you doing?” Saeyoung asked. 

“She said like shit,” Saeran answered for me and I smiled and nodded. “I’ll go get some painkillers.” I watched Saeran get up and leave, disappearing from my sight. 

“Sorry I should have warned you about what it’s like,” Saeyoung began. 

“You knew I’d feel like this and you didn’t tell me?” I questioned.

“Yeah...sorry…” I shook my head. 

“It’s fine. Where am I? How long was I out?”

“The machine is in my basement, so you’re here in my bunker. You blacked out once we went through. Saeran helped carry you up here. You’ve been out for half a day,” he answered. 

“H-half a day?!” I asked. It definitely didn’t feel that long. 

“Yeah,” he laughed. Just then I noticed Saeran had come back. I tried to sit up and Saeyoung helped me. Saeran passed me some pills and water, which I quickly took. 

“Thanks,” I told him. He smiled a bit back at me, before sitting down in a chair next to the couch I was on. My eyes were finally adjusted to the light and I took in my unfamiliar surroundings. It was definitely Saeyoung’s bunker. I’m here. This is a new universe. Everything feels off, but also right.  

“Are you hungry? We ordered some takeout.” Saeyoung asked. I nodded. Saeyoung got up to go get it for me. 

“Is it really you?” I heard Saeran ask. 

“I think I should be asking you that, but yes I’m really (Y/N),” I answered. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“Everything I guess. I know it wasn’t really you who I tried to kidnap and stuff, but it kinda was and I feel bad about it. And thank you for helping Saeyoung.” I smiled. 

“You don’t need to apologize, but I’ll accept your apology if it makes you feel better. I know what you did was mostly because of Rika and stuff. And I guess I’m also sorry.” 

“What?”

“I totally bit your arm that day! Or well the CPU did, ugh I don’t know either way though I bit your arm and I’m sorry!” Saeran chuckled.

“Thanks,” he softly replied. Saeyoung came back with the food and I quickly dug in. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good in my life. 

“Woah, someone’s hungry,” Saeyoung stated. I glared. 

“Well you said it’s been half a day. I’m starving. This is really good.” 

“Yes it is. I was disappointed to find that your universe did not have a Ren and Ran’s.” 

“I’m disappointed now too,” I replied before stuffing more into my face. The air and feeling in the room had begun to grow a bit awkward. This was the first time I’ve met Saeran, and I’ve never been here so it was to be expected. After I finished, I spoke up. 

“So what now?” I asked. 

“Well whatever you want now. I can bring you to your new apartment and help you get settled, but I’m not sure we can get everything done before stores close. Or,” he paused. “Well here, hang on.” Saeyoung got up and went to another room, before returning. He handed me a cell phone. “Here. You’ll need this. The RFA app is on there if you want to start meeting everyone and stuff. I’ve also put in my and Saeran’s number in there in case you need anything.” I smiled. 

“Awesome. Thank you. If it’s not too much for you, could we wait until tomorrow to move me in?” I asked. 

“Of course! I can go set up the guest bedroom!” Saeyoung got up to leave, but Saeran stopped him. 

“I’ll do it, you stay here.” Saeran stated, and then got up and left. I smiled to myself.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“Me either,” Saeyoung replied. “Well why don’t I show you around?” I agreed and stood up. I was feeling mostly normal at this point. Saeyoung brought me around the bunker showing me all the rooms and where everything was. I smiled as he did. I could tell he was trying to hold in his excitement. After the tour, the three of us decided to take it easy and watch a movie. I had never seen the movie, obviously because it’s from this universe instead, but it was good. We were going to watch a second, but my head had started to pound so I excused myself for the night. I said goodnight and then found my way to the room I was staying in. I can’t believe all of this. I’m nervous about talking to the RFA. I’ll wait until tomorrow after I’m settled. I have to meet new people. I hope I won’t disappoint them. I only had pre-made options to communicate with them, and some of the ones I used I wouldn’t actually ever say. I hope it works out. Maybe I’ll actually have friends for the first time in my life. For the first time I feel lighter. I don’t feel as empty. I hope that feeling stays. I began to grow really sleepy, so I changed into some pajamas and headed to sleep for the night, hoping all would be good in the morning.

#saeyoung choi x reader #saeyoung choi #707 #707 x reader #mystic messenger #fanfic

[diningpageantry]

Love and All The Related Actions

CARRY ON COUNTDOWN 2019

DAY 8 - ENDEARMENT TERMS

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655954

Word Count: 2648

Rating: Teen (some mildly sexual mentions, but nothing worth ‘M’ rating)

Summary: The 5 times Baz called Simon "Love", and the 1 time it really stuck.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Love, can you pass me the sugar?”

I’m not paying attention when I say it. I don’t think I’ve paid much attention to what I’m saying to Snow anymore in general, if I’m being honest. The connection between my verbal communication and my internalized commentary has bled through into our everyday conversations. The block that’d stopped me from saying “I want your thighs to crush my head” and “I want you to call me darling” have somehow vanished after Snow first slipped his hand down my trousers and told me he wants me, properly. Forever.

So I guess now I can’t stop myself from saying what I think. Which, now, is a bit of my downfall.

Because I’ve never said that properly. “Love”. It’s come out on occasion, like that night, but I’ve tried to avoid it since. Let it slip away, and wait to say it when we’re both coherent and there.

I would say right now’s a good time to say it, because he’s not mad at me for saying it. Instead, he looks a bit shocked. And pleased.

“‘Love’?” He hums, nose wrinkling up as he grins. I roll my eyes deliberately, watching him reach across the island to pass me the shaker. “We’re finally graduating to saying love now, are we?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug it off as I dismissively turn away and pour a few spoonfuls into my tea. “Are we?”

“Well, you say just about everything else.”

“Do not.” He might as well be right. I do say quite a bit to him.

I hear him laugh behind me, seat scraping forward as he leans closer towards the island. “Sure. Act like you didn’t tell me I looked fit in the shirt I picked yesterday.”

“I speak my truths,” I say with a flourish of a hand, “that doesn’t mean I’m overly truthful. A man’s allowed to have some secrets.”

“So you lie?”

“No, I just hide.”

He snorts, and I hear him set down his mug. “You can say that much.”

When I turn, he’s still looking at me, mug raised back to his lips and eyes staring up through his thick blonde-ish brown eyelashes. He gives me a smirk over the ceramic, lowering it slowly before he leans under the overhang.

“Well, you’re still welcome for the sugar, love.”

My heart patters a bit, making me properly smile back and lean in to give him a good kiss.

--

“Come closer, love,” I whisper onto his lips, shifting over the sofa. He hums against me, tail twitching against my thigh as he pushes up further onto my lap.

“Second time,” He breathes, head hanging heavily onto mine.

I feel his breath against my cheek, wet and excited, but I don’t feel anything but confused. After all, this definitely is far beyond the second time we’ve made out on the couch in a quick attempt to use the flat before Penny gets home. 

“What… what do you mean…” I alternate kisses between the sides of his face, working down his left jaw eventually. “What do you mean by second?”

I feel his laugh gently shake his body, reverberating against my own mouth as he chuckles. “I mean,” he says back, a hand slipping into my hair. “That’s the second time you’ve called me ‘Love’.”

My lips stop abruptly, then pull off. All of me pulls off, in fact, and I lean back to stare at him.

He’s smiling, looking awfully pleased with himself as his elbows nudge my shoulders while he holds himself on top. I want to laugh. I want to groan at him. But I settle for a tight lipped sigh, closing my eyes as Snow laughs harder on top of me.

Then he sits up, settling his weight onto my hips and making something a little bit more clear.

“What? Are you embarrassed about saying it?” He teases, hands running up my already half-unbuttoned shirt (his doing).

“No,” I say quickly, then realise I sound defensive, so I open my eyes to give him a softer look. “I’d tell you if it was embarrassing. Like you sitting against my half-hard cock right now--that’s embarrassing.”

He shifts forward a bit, alleviating some pressure as he leans back down and pecks my lips. “Then what is it?”

“Nothing.” My hands press to his chest. Nothing.

“D’you want me to say it back?” He asks in only a way that he could both dumbly and lovingly say. “Because I can, if that’d make you feel any better.”

“No, it ruined the mood.”

He scoffs as his lips press quickly to mine, and I let my eyes fall shut before he leans back down again, this time trying to make it last. I give him that.

I give him every opportunity to tear me apart, as he wishes. As he needs.

It isn’t until we turn over with me awkwardly trying to find a proper seating here (it’s awfully difficult for us to comfortably snog on the couch--I’m a bit too long, and he’s almost a bit too wide for both of us to fit on our sides, but that doesn’t matter, because I like snogging him too much to stop). He pulls right off again, undoing my belt buckle as he leans up, nipping at my ear.

“Take off your trousers, love,” he murmurs.

--

“Love, please…”

“Don’t ‘Love, please’ me,” he snaps back, taking a further step away.

Snow looks a mess. Wild eyes, red from crying. This hair is overworked from his fingers, and his skin looks like it’s been itched at. Nervous tick.

I set my jaw, taking a step back and raising my hands defensively. I knew this would happen. This has been bound to happen for weeks. His telltale signs have been evident; clear as day and terrifying as ever. On edge, under eating, and barely sleeping. It seems to happen on a semi-regular basis. Every three months or so, Snow has his breakdown. His nervous burst, then I stick around to pick up his pieces,

It was about three months yesterday.

I feel a bit defeated this time. The other fights… they were different. This one’s just me asking when the last time he took a shower was.

“Snow, it was just a question!” I’m raising my voice, despite not really meaning to. It just comes out. “I just asked a bloody question!”

“You know it’s more than that,” he says louder, gesturing his hands about the room. His room. His messy room. “It’s… it’s…” I give him the minute to think. I know better now than to stop him. “It’s the premise! It’s the fact that you know it’s been a while, and asking just makes me feel guilty!”

“Yeah, but I want to fucking help you, you fucking moron!”

He startles, and my heart falls out from under my soul (if that’s still even in there). He fucking flinches, first looking unsure, then plain angry.

“I don’t need your fucking pity. I made it far enough without you in the past.”

“Past? Past?” I nearly laugh, then swallow back my words. I have to stop insulting him. I’ve been trying, I really have. “Snow, the past was in school, and in homes. It’s different now.”

“How’s it different, huh?”

“We’re on our own now!” I want so desperately to reach out and hold onto those steady forearms of his. “We… we’re adults, sort of. You’ve got Bunce and me wanting to help you. We want you okay, if you’d just take it, damn it!”

I try to study his face, but he’s getting harder and harder to read nowadays. Almost skittish. Like a misstep, a misread, and I’ll be regretting it in the following argument.

Which leads me to this face. Either a pout, or a frown. I’m not sure, and I’m afraid to guess, but I think it’s a pout.

“Simon,” I try, watching him raise his eyes to meet mine before I hold my breath and try, very softly, “Love…”

He exhales, shrinking further into himself as he looks away.

We’re silent, for a moment, before he shakes his head and waves a hand out. “Not right now,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t right now.”

My arms drop to my sides as I nod, swallowing back at the lump worrying my throat. “That’s fine. It’s whatever you need.”

He flinches at that, but I try to ignore it this time. I don’t have the energy to continue this, and by the looks of it, neither does he.

“I just need a moment,” he whispers, gesturing towards his bedroom door. “Can you…”

I nod, going for the jacket I’d draped onto his bed, but he stops me short with a quick grab of my wrist.

“I’d meant… just… stay in the living room. Don’t go. I need a moment to myself, but after…”

“We’ll talk after,” I finish, and he nods, to my relief.

“We’ll talk after.”

--

“You know that you’re adored, right, love?”

Snow’s eyes open slightly, peering up at me for the second before they fall back shut. It’s been a bad week.

It’s been a bad week in a cluster of bad weeks. This week’s just been the worst, though. I want to blame it on the snowfall, which was barely anything,yet that slight flurry was enough to put him into a bit of a mood.

Still, he’s taking it better than he has in the past.

“Well, you saying it makes me at least somewhat aware.”

I pinch his cheek lightly, which deserves me a wrinkled nose in response. I want to lean down and kiss it.

“It’s true. I mean, I think at least from Bunce--”

“Hey!”

“--and I think there was at least a few people in our year who definitely had a thing for you--”

“Baaazzz…”

“--on occasion, you’re definitely tolerable--”

He leans up and cuts me short with a peck on the lips. I smile, cradling his head and kissing him back.

He settles back down after a moment, exhaling quietly and staring up through slightly bloodshot eyes. I feel his tail against my calf, winding up around it slowly and holding gently to my skin. (It tail took me a little while to get used to him doing that with his tail. Only because when I’d first felt it, I’d thought it was a snake for a split second, which felt ridiculous given we’re in a flat in the middle of London, but you never quite know.)

“You keep calling me love,” he murmurs, eyes slowly falling back shut. “Why is that?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

He shrugs, head turning in my lap to face the telly. It’s been muted, with subtitles getting stacked onto the bottom. I take the opportunity to push a hand through his hair, carding through it delicately as he hums in appreciation.

I almost say it.

It’s about to slip out, but I choke on it last minute. There’s something not quite right about it--something not settled. Something’s not firm.

He is. We are. Time should be. I think it’s just me who’s the one struggling here

“I say it because it needs to be said,” I whisper, pacing myself through words. “I say it because there definitely are people who love you, and I don’t think you’ve been called ‘Love’ before, despite that.”

A smile creeps around his face, which slowly turns back up towards mine as his cheeks crease around the grin.

“I guess you’re right.”

“When aren’t I?”

He laughs, then shifts onto his side to settle more into my lap. “Prick.”

“You love it.”

“Guess I do.”

--

“God, don’t do that, love,” I groan into my phone.

He’s laughing, at least, but I’m dead serious.

“What? I think it’ll be a great idea!”

“How long until you have to decide?”

“Uhh…”

“Crowley…”

He laughs harder. “What, do they look that bad?!”

“Simon...”

“Liar!”

“Would I lie to you about this?”

“Maybe--who knows.”

I must look like a madman, having this conversation into my mobile at the sandwich shop a block away from class. I’m usually not this expressive here. “Simon Snow, if you don’t walk away from those god awful shoes, I will take it into my own hands and burn them once I get a chance.”

“I think they’re great! And Shepard agreed!”

“Shepard thought you could pull off that lime green shirt, too. I would not call that man the epitome of fashion.”

“Shepard also helped me pick out that jumper I got you last month,” he reminds, sounding completely too cocky for a man who’s about to buy the most hideous trainers the world has ever seen. “I would count that as a point towards him.”

“It was a lucky shot. I just happen to like that shade of plum.”

“Baazzz…”

“Simon. My dear. Love. Sweetest. I will jump out your living room window if I have to see you in those, and I don’t care if I survive.”

“They’re not that bad!”

I snort, then look back at the picture, if only to cringe. “I fucking hate you,” I mumble, hearing him laugh again. “Bastard. You absolute numpty--you’re going to get them, aren’t you?!”

“They’re secondhand, and dirt cheap!”

“For a reason!”

“I’m getting them.”

“Please, Crowley…”

“And I’m not taking no as an answer.”

“Fucking shit.”

He laughs, then quickly says “Love you” before hanging up.

And suddenly, I’m not so annoyed anymore.

--

He’s wearing them when I open the front door.

They’re hideous. They’re like 2009 chav shoes, but somehow worse. 

But I don’t care anymore. Which, somehow, is the most miraculous thing on this damned planet, cured only by two words we’ve never spoken before.

And then he just said them. Out loud. To me.

He looks up, scrunching his nose a bit. “What do you think, love?” He asks, going to show them off (on second thought, maybe I don’t not care, but rather for the sake of keeping the bits of my sanity left, I must ignore them).

I slip off my coat and join him on the couch, grumbling a quiet “You’re a fucking idiot” before grabbing his face and yanking him towards me.

He laughs a bit, smiling onto my mouth as I messily press my lips to his.

It’s awkward, and uncoordinated, and I feel like I don’t know how to kiss again, until Snow settles his hands onto mine and steadies me back on track.

There’s rustling in the kitchen, meaning someone else is definitely here, but I don’t mind that either. All I care about right now is Simon Snow, the mental image of him not wearing these god awful trainers, and the fact that he said he loves me (even if said inpassing).

“Bastard,” I mumble, grabbing his belt loops while pulling him closer. “Fucking wanker.”

“The shoes that bad?” He whispers out between kisses, barely escaping my hold on him. He’s smiling, and we both know that I know what he’s said, which makes me growl a bit as I keep kissing him harder.

He pushes us apart after a bit, grinning dumbly as he rolls his eyes. “Have you got something to say to me, then?”

“Million fucking things, Snow,” I respond, dumbly. “A million and one.”

“Then let’s work back from that extra one to keep it even.”

I’m chuckling as we bump noses quickly stealing kisses between our words.

“Love me? Love you. Love…”

“Love,” he repeats back, nodding a bit. “Love.”

“My love.” I clear my throat, then exhale. “My love. You’re my love.”

“Damn, sounds a bit cheesy, if you ask me.”

I laugh, brain stating it over and over on a repeat track and intoxicating me to the point that I’m giddy. “Oh shut up,” I whisper, leaning in for another kiss.

#carry on countdown #carry on countdown 2019 #coc 2019 #carry on #wayward son #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #mine #ficlet #5+1 #dljkfdkfasd this just got slammed out im sorry #i'm a busy college student pls dont judge my schedule kdlfjds

[winchester-purgatory]

Summary: Sam finally proposes to Jess

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Christmas proposal

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Jessica Moore

Word Count: 1703

Warnings: None needed 

The alarm went off, blaring and beeping, echoing in their bedroom, stirring Sam from his sleep. He groaned, but didn’t move, still tired.

He and Jess had gone to bed late last night due to an office party at the law firm where he interns. It was kinda boring, most employees being in their forties and up, but Jess was there to make it better - and report about the two employees she caught having a drunken affair on her way to the bathroom. He even had managed to win one of the prizes of the night, a bottle of expensive whiskey, which he'll give to Dean as an additional Christmas present, not being a whiskey drinker.

As tempting as it was to hit snooze, he already hit it two times which meant it was around 10 o'clock.

''Make it stop,'' Jess sleepily complained from behind him, facing the opposite side of the alarm clock. She tried to tug at the comforter in hopes to hide underneath and block the loud noise, but it was hogged by Sam's weight, being a blanket hogger. ‘’Sam!’’

Forcing his eyes open, he reached out to turn the alarm off, making them both sigh in relief. This alarm might do a good job at waking them from a deep sleep, but its sound is damn annoying when it’s a day off.

Sam rolled over and kissed her shoulder tenderly, wrapping his arms around her, not ready to leave the bed yet. The blonde hummed, leaning into her lover's touch. ‘’Five more minutes,’’ she mumbled, eyes still closed.

A chuckle rumbled from Sam’s chest. Okay. Five more minutes.

‘’I’m so glad we got out of hosting the Christmas dinner - again. No need to wake up early and stress with the food or setting everything up,’’ Jess declared, feeling very cosy.

''This apartment is way too small for a Christmas gathering anyway. Where would the guests sit? We don't even have a proper dinner table.''

‘’We could put Cas and Charlie in the living room and Dean and Claudia on the balcony. The patio set should still be there,'' Jess suggested with amusement.

‘’I can already hear him complaining about the snow falling into his beer or that his ass is starting to feel numb from sitting on the metal chairs in the cold.’’ Sam chuckled, imagining the scene perfectly. ‘’It’s better at Dean’s place. He always gets way too drunk and I wouldn’t see Claudia hauling him in the car and to their house. He'd crush her with his dead weight.’’

Although they've been living together for four years, slow mornings like this were rare. Morning where they could sleep in, be lazy in bed and cuddle. They always had to rush to get to class or work - and sometimes even on the weekend on Jess' end, a perk of being a nurse.

Whenever it would happen, they liked to cherish every minute and sometimes even have breakfast in bed. It was a guilty pleasure.

Not today though, as ringtone went off, blaring through the bedroom.

''Ugh, it's mine.'' Jess detached herself from Sam to grab her phone on the right nightstand, checking at the caller ID. ''It's my mother,'' she announced with mild annoyance, a picture of her and her mom at her 40th birthday taking the whole screen as it kept ringing.

Their laughter was cut short when a ringtone went off, blaring through the bedroom.

''Ugh, it's mine.'' Jess detached herself from Sam to grab her phone on the right nightstand, checking at the caller ID. ''It's my mother,'' she announced with mild annoyance, a picture of her and her mom at her 50th birthday taking the whole screen as it kept ringing.

That interruption was the signal that morning cuddles were officially over and they should get started with their day. ‘’I’ll go shower while you talk to her.’’ Sam got up, fetching some clean clothes from the top of the dresser.

''I'll join you if you finish before you,'' Jess said with a smile and a wink before answering her phone. ''Hi, Mom, how's the preparations going? Has Dad started early on the eggnog again?''

Sam looked down and smiled. How did he get so lucky?

.

When Sam returned to the bedroom, Jess was finished with her call. She had opened the curtains and snow was falling outside, dusting a light coat of white in the streets.

She pouted, seeing him half dressed with a towel over his hair. ‘’Already? I was about to join you.’’

''Sorry... How's your mom?'' he asked while dry toweling his hair.

''She's doing good. She's pretty disappointed we won't be joining them for Christmas this year - again. Plane tickets are just so expensive during this time of the year and, no offense babe, but your car wouldn't last the trip.''

Sam chuckled, throwing the towel in the laundry basket. ''It's okay. I know it's crap. Dean reminds me every single time he sees my car and its damaged bumper.''

''She wishes us a jolly christmas eve...and not-so-subtly asked if she has a wedding to plan.'' Jess huffed a laugh, still hearing the echoes of her mother wondering how they weren't engaged after being together for five years. ''At least she didn't ask if I was pregnant.''

''Maybe she does.''

''What? Sam, I’m not pregnant. I’d know if I were-’’

‘’No! Not that.’’ He shook his head. ‘’The part about planning a wedding.’’

‘’I think you skipped a step here: we need to be engaged first.’’

‘’Let’s do it now.’’

‘’Sam-’’

‘’I'm dead serious, Jess! I've been thinking about it for a couple months already. I even got a ring...''

Jess' eyebrows pulled into a confused frown, trying to process all this new information. ''What?'' she asked, eyes rapidly filling with various emotions.

Sam stood and went to their closet, fetching the old box filled with memories from his years at college from the back, and pulled out the blue velvet box where the ring was perfectly resting. He opened the small box and stared at the dainty, simple band with diamond in the middle and nodded. It's time.

His palms were getting sweaty as he returned to the bed, feeling nervous. He wasn't nervous about Jess possibly saying no. He knew she'd say yes, she already made that clear. It's just that Jess deserved the best and Sam wanted the proposal to be perfect. He was afraid of messing up and getting his on-the-moment speech wrong.

Sensing his nervosity, Jess took his hand and tugged him back on the bed. She looked up at him and smiled, sparkles of joy already in her eyes even though he hadn't popped the question and she hadn't seen the ring yet. The beaming look on her face told him this was the rightest thing he'll ever do. He was gonna marry this girl.

''Jess. Since I got that ring, I kept practicing how to present the question and trying to find the right way to propose, the right moment, but I think this is it.’’

10 o’clock on Christmas Eve morning wasn’t your typical ‘perfect’ proposal, but Sam didn’t want to wait anymore. Dean had suggested he’d do it tonight at his place, but Sam didn’t like the idea of a crowd - even his closest friends and brother - watching them. He liked privacy and, what’s more private than between your four bedroom walls? 

‘’This might sound cheesy and overused in proposal speeches, but I wouldn't be who I am today without you. When we met, I was in a bad place. I had gotten into a really bad fight with my father about my future and moved all the way to california to follow my dream. I was miserable and lonely, but there you were in that diner, golden curls and sparkling blue eyes, serving coffee to pay off your tuition. I came to this diner every day for weeks although I was short on money solely so I could see you.'' Sam paused, realizing how stalker-ish his behaviour sounded. ''Unlike the guy at table seven, I wasn't there to ogle your body in your waitress uniform. I was there for the bright smile on your face and to hear your laugh because it was the only thing that would brighten my dark grey sky.''

The blonde reached out and squeezed Sam's hand, remembering the tough times. Freedom hadn’t tasted sweet the first couple months. It was very dark and lonely and difficult on every end. Sam had been long tormented by his past, always thinking about his brother and father he left behind, the absence of support from them.

‘’I remember when I first brought you to my dorm. Collin couldn’t believe I caught a girl like you, so...out of my league. The nerd doesn’t get the hot girl in our world,’’ he said in an attempt to make a joke. ‘’It’s been the two of us since college. Can it be the two of us forever now? You pull me out of my comfort zone and make me do things I would never do on my own without forcing me into anything. You motivate me when my hopes are down, you make me smile when I feel down, make me feel special when I feel alone and misunderstood. You were my home when I had no home to go to. You’re the first girl I loved.’’

There had been girls before Jess. Amy Pond when he was twelve. It didn’t last long, barely over a month, but it still counted. Penelope Svenson, the girl from the café in his hometown. They never went past the first date. She was too self-centered for him. And Rachel Nave, his prom date, who hooked up with his brother on prom night. Thanks Dean. 

Looking back, those relationships were insignificant. 

‘’Remember the night I reserved us a table at this fancy restaurant? I had been saving for weeks to take you there on our anniversary, But when the day came, I couldn’t get myself out of bed and had to cancel. You showed up to my dorm, all dressed up and excited for our date. I felt so bad. I thought you'd be upset and slam the door on your way out, but you just smiled and said we'd go another time. You even stayed in my dorm and we cuddled and watched movies on my busted laptop. That’s when I knew you were the one for me.''

A small frown creased on the blonde’s forehead, remembering that night in Sam’s crusty dorm perfectly. ‘’Sam, that was over four years ago.’’

He looked down and nodded. ‘’I know. You stayed when others would’ve left and that meant a lot to me. It showed me you weren’t only with me for the good and that I could be fully myself with you - no holding back.’’ Sam paused, the velvet box feeling warm and kinda sticky in his clammy hands. ''Jessica Lee Moore, will you marry me?’’

#spnchristmasbingo #sam winchester #sam winchester x jessica moore #sam x jess #supernatural fic

[venusofthehardsells]

Dreamgirl [part 3]

ReaderxBucky Barnes [part 2] Summary: Bucky tries to adjust to his new life in the Avengers compound. One day he meets a girl who might be everything he needs in order to move on, but is his past really that far away? Warnings: NONCON in this chapter - if you are triggered by or uncomfortable with this DO NOT READ, death, masturbation, psychological manipulation, violence, vomit A/N: Holy goat, this took forever to write. Thank you so much for all your comments and your patience! ♥ This chapter was really difficult for me to get through and I won’t be surprised if this is not your cup of tea - I’m not even sure it’s mine at this point. Maybe chapter four will be kinder to Bucky. Who knows anymore. Let me know your thoughts ~

The run back to the compound is a complete blur. Bucky is drenched in sweat when he throws himself into the last empty chair in the briefing room, one minute before the clock hits the hour. He avoids looking at Steve altogether; he can’t bear it, the concern from his friend. Instead he spends the entire briefing staring at Stark as if he is actually saying something of importance, which he never does. Nothing relevant to him at least. Bucky is still not ready for field duty. It’s just about the only thing he can agree on with Stark. It doesn’t make much sense for him to be there at all, but Steve and Fury insist. Something about keeping him in the loop, in case he suddenly becomes fit for going on team missions. So he shows up and he tries to care.

But today, he doesn’t hear a word Stark or any of the SHIELD agents are saying. His running clothes are strangling him. He keeps checking the time on every screen within view, watching the digital numbers change every minute. How did it get so late in the day? He almost doesn’t dare blink, afraid the hours will vanish again in a brief second of inattentiveness. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t piece the morning together properly. He was talking to her… God, the mere thought of her makes him dizzy, everything from the scent of her perfume, to her sweet smile, to the little yellow hearts on her nails. Is it possible that he was so far gone fantasising about her that he lost himself that deeply? Could he have been asleep in his seat without realising it? No, he’s pretty sure the coffee cup was empty when he left. He doesn’t remember drinking it though. His head pounds and he vaguely thinks this is what a really bad hangover used to feel like. The sweat from the run back dries on his body as he sits there and when Tony Stark finally wraps up, Bucky feels cold as ice. Despite the hour and his long sleeves, his teeth are almost rattling in his skull. Worse is he can tell how bad he is starting to smell and it’s making his stomach roll and lunge inside of him, or at least it feels like it. If he had eaten any breakfast, he’s sure it would have been on the floor by now. He ought to get lunch though, to make up for the meal. Bucky considers it for less than a second. He knows he should eat, that he needs to with his crazy super metabolism and all, but he cannot remember ever having felt less hungry. The mere idea of food, the taste of greasy fried bacon, rubbery texture of eggs in the mouth, even the slightest thought of that fucking smell of cooking oil, fuck, it’s enough to make him sick. As soon as people start to leave, Bucky is out of the door, ignoring Steve’s call of his name. He jumps into the first bathroom he passes and flings himself into a stall, not a second too late. He pukes into the toilet the moment his head is horizontal and it just won’t stop. Even though there’s nothing in his stomach save a bit of coffee, his body wants it gone. Badly. His flesh hand shakes holding onto the edge of the basin. The metal one is a little more calm, but he can tell his thumb has made an indent in the porcelain. Was it always this bad to throw up? He can’t recall, he hasn’t done it in seventy years. Whatever HYDRA pumped into him has kept him healthy and fit and mercifully out of situations like this. Bucky keeps heaving for several more minutes even though there’s nothing to chuck up. Just when he is sure all of his entrails are about to fall out through his mouth, the cramps finally let up and he sits back against the wall, the sour taste in his mouth almost enough to set him off again. He runs a hand through his hair; it’s sticking to his forehead and his neck in the cold sweat that has erupted all over him. “Bucky?... Are you in there, pal?” Even though he knows Steve has seen him at his absolute worst, he tries to pull himself together. As quick as he can without stumbling he gets on his feet and splashes some cold water in his face. Takes a few slurps from the tap too to clear his mouth. The man staring back at him from the mirror above the sink is paler than he remembers, and his eyes are a little wider, but otherwise Bucky doesn’t look as out of sorts as he feels. “I’m okay, Steve,” he answers with a strain in his voice as he exits the stall. Steve doesn’t look too convinced, standing against the wall with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. “You sure?” “Yeah. All good. Probably just need some more sleep.” He shrugs and realises that he does in fact feel exhausted. “I, uh… might have overdone the running a little bit.” “How long were you gone?” Bucky bites back a remark about minding his own business. “Left around five-ish I think,” he says in what he hopes is a casual tone that hides his annoyance. And the fact that the nausea is bubbling back up already. “Jesus Christ…” Steve runs a hand through his perfect blonde hair, looking equally concerned and impressed. “That’s almost seven hours Buck! That ain’t a run, that’s…” His voice stops short of whatever word he was about to say, but Bucky can guess. Torture. Self-harm. Inhuman… They hold each other’s gazes across the bathroom for a moment of hard-strung silence, before Steve averts his eyes. “It’s a problem,” he says then, clearly using all of his self-control to sound somewhat calm. Bucky wishes for the millionth time that Steve wouldn’t try so damn hard. His old friend is walking on eggshells around him and it’s driving him up the wall. The small army of therapists and doctors working on him already treat him like a brittle antiquity and the other Avengers as though he’s some sort of unstable explosive. Stark is the only one who doesn’t seem to care if he breaks or blows up and it would be refreshing if it wasn’t for the fact that every one of his vicious jibes and insults makes Bucky feel like less than the dirt under Stark’s shoes. Of course, he deserves it, there’s no doubt in Bucky’s mind about that; sometimes one of the others tells Stark to back off, but Bucky doesn’t see the point. He is a killer, he is a monster. Should he ever forget it, they’re all there to remind him with their caution and their adjusted voices. Bucky Barnes is still not really human, is he? If only Steve, of all people, would just treat him normally, he’s sure it wouldn’t be so excruciating to exist. He bites down on his lip. “Yeah, well, like I said… I needed the extra time.” Bucky fights the urge to cross his arms and sticks his hands into his pockets instead. To think that he was almost happy only this morning. “Bucky, you know you can talk to me about-,” Steve starts, but Bucky cuts him off before he begins to sound too much like one of his shrinks. “Stark’s parents, okay?,” he all but hisses, no longer able to look Steve in the eyes. “I dreamt about Stark’s parents again, saw their faces and I just… forget it. I’m fine, Steve.” His voice almost cracks at the last words. He needs to find another bathroom without Steve in it so he can puke his guts out in peace. The way Steve looks at him, hurt, shocked, utterly helpless, feels a little bit better than stepping on a landmine and almost having both feet blown off, but only a little. Bucky can’t bear it. Before Steve manages an answer, Bucky pushes past him out of the bathroom and down the hall as quickly as possible. Moments later, he hauls himself into his own room and locks the door behind him. A weary air of guilt, worn threadbare over the past few months, scrunches his features as he trudges to the toilet, kneels down and vomits again. It’s quite fitting for how sick he feels when he thinks of Steve’s expression - the single constant in his life and he’s screwing that up too. Steve just wants to help him. It’s a quality in very short supply and Bucky knows he should value it more than he has done so far. He should try to be more open, more cooperative. After all, it’s Steve… When his stomach stops fighting, he peels off his clothes and crawls into the shower for the second time that day. It’s quickly becoming the only place he feels remotely comfortable. No one to judge him but himself, no dreams but the ones he chooses. As the water starts to trickle down his body, he begins to relax. It takes longer than usual, he’s already so worked up from the day and it’s not even two pm yet. But he forces himself to let go of everything, at least for a little while. His muscles unclench slowly as he lets all thoughts seep from his mind until he is thoroughly unburdened in the little safe space of steam and water. Bucky’s flesh hand glides down between his legs and takes hold of his cock. Practicality tells him an orgasm will help him loosen up enough to maybe catch up on a little sleep before dinner and still, he hesitates. He knows exactly what he wants to see, who he wants to see, but he’s afraid to try and imagine her. It’s okay, it’s just a fantasy. Bucky groans and gives himself an uncertain pump, then another. I won’t mind, James. You can think of me. Let me help you feel good… Her whisper in his head is as clear as if she had been standing behind him, breathing the words on his neck. He can almost feel her hands glide down his shoulders, his arms, until they close around his wrist and gently makes him let go. Let me take care of it for you. Her much softer hands replaces his own around his cock and he can feel her body press into his back, her lips on his shoulder, her nipples against his skin, her hip nudging his ass, her arms tight around him, her scent of coffee and floral perfume filling up the air. He hardens in her grip before she even starts moving. See? You need this. It’s okay, James, I think of you too. “Fuck…” The way her fingers slide up the underside of his length, trailing the vein there with her painted nails is almost painful and he moans loudly. Do you want to know what I imagine? What I think of whit my fingers inside of me? Bucky can’t hold the sounds back anymore. He groans at the images flashing through his head, of her hands that he has already touched now stroking him so intimately, and dear god, those same fingers disappearing into her slick, warm folds while his name falls from her lips. He moans again and thrusts his hips up a little to meet her strokes, bites down hard on his lip when her thumb traces the head of his cock. Both of her hands work relentlessly on him, one fast, one slow and he can feel every muscle in him contract until he’s trembling and the only thing on his mind is the release he desperately needs. I think of this, she whispers and the words are a brief chill on the back of his neck beneath the heat of the shower and the heat building inside of him. I think of this big, hard cock inside of me, stretching me… There is a bit of hot water running into his open mouth as he throws his head back, but he hardly notices anymore. He is panting, nearing. His legs are shaking. He is so close, he’s going to- …stretching me so good, filling me up until I- He cries out with the release before he can stop himself and his vision flashes into white. The force of his orgasm is so intense he staggers and leans on the tile wall. Cum covers both his shuddering hands and his stomach. It takes a while for the shower water to get rid of it all; he watches the white fluid slowly run and circle into the drain like a peppermint swirl. Bucky can’t remember the last time he came so hard, but then again, he can’t remember the last time he came from a fantasy of this kind either. Her smile when she looked at him from behind the counter in the coffee shop is the only thing he sees as he turns off the water and towels himself dry. A part of him feels like a creep for having used her to get off, or at least the image of her, but Bucky is so tired of feeling guilty and at the same time, he can’t help but hope she really does think of him, too. Guilt is too easy, he decides as he wraps the towel around his hips and leaves the bathroom. His life has become one long agonising guilt-trip for simply being alive and while he is still adamant he is to blame for all that Stark and everyone else accuses him of, he is starting to feel sick of it. Maybe she can be the one person he doesn’t have to feel guilty about. If he can allow himself as much, that sliver of normalcy she offers with her sweetness and her adoring eyes, perhaps somewhere in the chaos of the twenty-first century even Bucky Barnes has a chance of healing. “Do you honestly believe that?” The voice makes him snap his head up. He briefly meets his own startled gaze in the mirror above his desk and in the span of a single heartbeat, every trace of warmth is gone from Bucky’s body. Right there, behind him, in his room in the compound is the monster that haunts his dreams and sometimes his waking hours too: staring back at Bucky from above the edge of the black mask covering half his face, are the cold, calculating eyes of the Asset. “No… how…” “I’m never far away.” Bucky watches in silent terror as the Asset takes four almost languid steps towards him and stops right behind him. “This mind…” The Asset lifts two silver metal fingers and taps Bucky’s temple. “…isn’t just yours. Not anymore.” “Shut up,” he manages weakly and even with the mask on, Bucky can tell the Asset is smirking. “It’s been a long time, but I gotta hand it to you. This new life is quite comfortable. I’m especially gonna enjoy that pretty little plaything of yours. Looked real good in that tight skirt today, didn’t she?” The word doesn’t exist in Bucky’s cache of languages to describe the dread flooding his veins then. There’s no longer blood inside of him, only ice water that bites and rips as it courses through him. His hands are gripping the edge of the desk so tightly it’s a wonder it doesn’t splinter. “Don’t… don’t touch…,” he tries, but his voice is sticking in his throat like a knife with a serrated edge that hurts worse the more he fights to get it out. “Or what?” The Asset slowly turns his head and Bucky follows the direction of his eyes in the mirror, somehow already knowing what is happening, what he is going to find. His galloping heart nearly crashes through his chest anyway. She’s lying on the bed behind them. Asleep, Bucky realises with rising panic, no longer wearing the work uniform, but instead a silky little one-piece that drapes to show off every single detail of her body from the point of her hip to the rounds of her soft nipples. His girl sleeping in his bed, wearing something for only him to see. And he wishes she were anywhere else. A contented sigh escapes her mouth and she turns a little, making the delicate fabric drag enough to allow him the conclusion she hasn’t bothered with underwear. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Barnes. Quite the little dreamgirl, isn’t she?” “No…” The Asset sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches a gloved hand out to rest on her thigh. She hums in her sleep as that monster slowly strokes her skin, inching closer and closer to her barely covered folds. He raises an eyebrow without looking away from Bucky and dips his fingers beneath the fabric, starting to draw languid circles there. Bucky wants to rip the entire arm off him. He wants to call out her name, tell her to run, but the words keep lodging themselves somewhere behind his lips and the Asset just sits there calmly, working her clit while watching him with satisfied triumph gleaming in his eyes. “Do you think she dreams of us?,” the Asset almost purrs as she lets out a moan in her sleep and bucks her hips up to meet his movements. “Stop it,” Bucky whispers, his entire face contorted in rage. It is as if he is frozen in place in front of the mirror; both of his hands are locked around the edge of the desk that he wants to fling into the Asset’s smug face and his feet are solidly planted on the floor. He can’t move. Only watch as the Asset starts to rub her clit faster and the sound she makes when she finally comes undone has him hardening beneath the towel. Then the scent of her cum washes over him and he has to bite back a moan of his own. It makes his knees go weak. “I don’t think I want to stop, Barnes. Your little squeeze is delicious.” The Asset holds up his hand so that Bucky can clearly see the white cum running down the black glove. “And she seems to like it, doesn’t she?” White-hot anger surges through Bucky’s frozen body as the Asset takes a deep breath of her essence covering his fingers. Get away from her, he shouts inside his head; blood is thundering so hard in his ears that he almost misses her confused little voice. “James?...” She looks at the Asset, then meets Bucky’s eyes in the mirror. Her heartrate is faster than normal, probably the aftershock of the orgasm. “What’s happening?” “Get out…,” he wheezes in that strained, almost-not-there-voice that is all he can manage to force out. What is wrong with him? Her eyes widen when she realises his panic and she moves to get off the bed. She doesn’t even make it to the side before the Asset grabs her shoulder and drags her back. “Not so fast, pretty girl.” She shrieks as the assassin pushes her back down into the mattress and quickly straddles her before she can roll away. “I’m gonna have a little more fun with you.” “Let go of me!,” she hisses and lashes out at his face, at the mask, but the Asset easily captures her wrist in his silver metal hand before she can make contact and pins it above her head. “Not yet,” he says quietly, getting hold of her other wrist as well. She is completely locked beneath him. The Asset takes his time to admire the view before him, seeming to relish in the way she squirms uselessly between his legs. “James, please. Help me,” she begs, her voice unsteady and shrill and it rips at Bucky’s very soul to hear. He is trembling in place, but that’s all. Why can’t he just fucking move?! The Asset grabs the crotch of her flimsy one-piece and tears through it, pushing it out of the way. She immediately struggles harder, but the Asset merely squashes her wrists tighter and she cries out in pain. Stop hurting her, Bucky mouths desperately. Nothing but air comes out of his mouth, but he’s sure the Asset can hear him. Let go of her, you have me, you can do whatever you want to me, kill me if you like, just don’t hurt her. The Asset audibly chuckles and turns his head to meet Bucky’s gaze in the mirror. “You shouldn’t have shown her to me, Barnes. What is yours, is mine.” He undoes a buckle and a zipper with casual indifference only using his flesh hand. The motion is efficient and Bucky knows from the worst, most repressed parts of his memories that it’s from experience. He always lies whenever people asks him if he remembers all the people The Winter Soldier killed, tells them yes, because he cannot bear to unearth certain victims yet without surely shattering himself beyond repair. When the Asset frees his cock from its restraints of his gear, already hard and leaking, and lines himself up with her exposed entrance, the faces of all those forgotten victims seeps back into Bucky’s mind and he wants to die. It would be easier than to face those ghosts, the ones he didn’t just kill but wishes he had. Please, just let go of her! You can have this body, I don’t care. I won’t fight you for it if you let her go. Listen to me!, he yells inside his head, but the Asset doesn’t acknowledge it. Don’t fucking touch her! “James, help me!,” the girl cries, the one that isn’t a ghost, the one he hasn’t… “You don’t have to do this, please don’t do this, just let me go… let me go, no! Stop, please, no! No!” Her words disappears into a scream when the Asset plunges into her in one unforgiving thrust. He leans back and closes his eyes, savouring the feeling of her tight walls around him. Bucky clenches his own eyes shut at the sight, flinching with every cry and sob the Asset now wrings from her as he starts to thrust his hips at a brutal pace without letting her adjust properly. He can’t look at it. He can’t stand there and look at the Asset hurting his girl and not being able to stop it without going mad. The sound of her crying is bad enough. “Wanna know how good she feels?,” the Asset growls and the sobs turn back into screams. Bucky immediately knows he’s made her cum. Again. Even in his petrified state of terror and disgust, the thought of her warm, silken cunt throbbing around his length almost makes him see stars and he can’t remember a time he has ever been more ashamed of himself. “Stop it,” he gets out, choking on the words and the fear and the wrath. Please just stop it. “But I’m not done with her yet. I’m sure she has more to give,” the Asset says between breaths. Instead of slowing down his thrusts, he increases the force behind each movement, jolting her body harshly each time he bottoms out. “Come on, pretty girl, you can take more than this. Don’t hold back on me.” Bucky can tell from the desperate, high-pitched sounds she’s trying to stifle that he is not letting her come down from the orgasm. Instead, he pushes her right into the next one. Tears are streaming from her tightly shut eyes as the high shoots through her and the Asset still doesn’t let up. He let’s go of her wrists and grabs a hold of her throat instead; the metal fingers closes easily around her neck, unyielding despite how she now claws and scratches at his lethal prosthetic. He is far enough above her for her fingers to only graze the mask in her turmoil. Somehow, Bucky’s eyes have managed to fall open again and he almost wishes he could gorge them out entirely. Let go, you’ll kill her! She’s gasping for breath through the tight grasp on her throat, her struggle slowly growing weaker. “She wouldn’t be the first,” is all the Asset answers before he reaches down and pinches her clit. The sound that escapes her then is so horrifyingly raw and desperate Bucky can’t believe it’s coming from the same girl who had in a soft, sweet voice asked him about something as mundane as coffee.  Her back arches off the bed and her arms and legs flail in a vain attempt to get his hand away from her overstimulated bundle of nerves. It’s too much. Every part of her is shaking violently under the unbroken string of orgasms the Asset forces out of her pinned down body. He lets out a groan and his hips finally begin to stutter and lose their ruthless pace. He lifts his hand from between her legs and for half a second, Bucky thinks it’s over, that he’s finally done with her. She will be in pain, but she’s alive. They both are. That’s all that matters. He has already pricked his finger on the peak of relief when the Asset raises his flesh hand and removes the mask. She stops struggling. Stops heaving for breath. Her bloodshot eyes just stare up at the face of the man she knows as James in shocked disbelief as her arms fall limply to her sides. The Asset’s lips spread in a sinister smile as he watches the fight leave her completely. He thrusts into her one final time, spilling his cum with a deep groan and his metal hand tightens on her throat until her eyes roll back in her head and she goes still. There is a strangled cry, like a small animal being trod on, and Bucky realises the sound is coming from himself. You… you killed her… The vicious grin on the Asset’s face turns into a knowing smirk. “Did I?” Bucky tries once again to free his hands from their cramped hold of the edge of the desk, only to find that he’s no longer standing at it. Instead, his eyes are looking right down at his own dark vibranium fingers clutching the dead girl’s neck. His knees are solidly planted on the bed, her body trapped beneath him, his cock still inside of her… With an agonised howl, Bucky sits up in the bed and stares at an empty room. His heart is thumping so hard and rapidly against his ribs, his entire frame trembles with it. The images from the nightmare flashes before his eyes every time he blinks and he rubs them in the hope that they’ll leave him alone. Both his hands come away wet with tears. This has been the worst dream he has had in months. He slowly clenches and unclenches his shaking hands to make sure they still obey. That they wouldn't somehow… She wouldn't be the first. He curls into a mess of sheets and limbs and pillows and let the crying rake through him. Everything hurts. It's hard just to get air into his lungs. There is a gentle tap on the d,or, so quiet he almost misses it. "Buck? Pal, you in there?," comes Steve's soft voice. "You didn't come down for dinner and… I, uh… Bucky, I just… if I was outta line earlier, I'm sorry. Don't want to bother you, I just gotta know if we're good?" A particularly violent sob leaves Bucky before he can prevent it and Steve's enhanced hearing picks it up immediately. He opens the door carefully, giving Bucky time enough to tell him to go to hell, but he doesn't.  "Oh, Buck," Steve sighs when he sees his friend and quickly shuts the door again, before kneeling down next to the tangled heap of bedding and supersoldier. Bucky reaches out with his flesh hand and grabs onto Steve's shirt  "Don't leave," he manages almost desperately between sobs, afraid of how gravelly his voice sounds, afraid it'll disappear again. "Of course not." Steve settles in next to him and places an arm around Bucky, awkwardly at first because of Bucky's wrapped up fetal position, but with a bit of shuffling and wiggling they make it work.  "Of course I'd never leave you."

From Alhabor’s private notes, page torn out and crumbled: I miscalculated today’s dose. Not enough to kill him which would have been a fucking nightmare. Didn’t include it in the report, hope I won’t have to. Must be more careful from now on. Too close to the target for mistakes at this rate.

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#bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel writing challenge #inthedark!challenge