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greysfall · 3 years

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My 4444-word review of NEO TWEWY (with personal illustration + heavy spoilers)

My overall critical score for the game is 7.5/10, while my personal enjoyment score is 8.5/10. This review is posted as I have 80% completed the game, got the secret ending and achieved the Angel psychic rank. I’ll first start with the main pros and cons as follows.

PROS:

- Enjoyable as a whole, still upholding the first game’s spirit in world building and sharing the same backbone - which was mostly revealed in the Secret Reports, it’s impossible to grasp the story without reading them.

- The new cast and new game is charming in their own way

- The old cast’s return is one of the biggest highlights for sure, it was fun and impactful. Everyone stays true to themselves and also had their own stories wrapped up nicely.

- Boss designs are cool, new pins are fun to use and collect

- The connection between the old and new cast is well written and executed, including but are not limited to the tension between the old and new protagonist, the weird but fun interaction between the 2 Composers, the new friendships revealed and formed

- Sho being in the main cast is something so uniquely TWEWY and uniquely Sho

- Still good music

- Still many fun side quests, some of them really uphold the same quirky spirit of the old game and some are surprisingly touching

- Many new nice stores and yummy looking foods to explore

- The map is really easy to memorize for me, it’s fun to travel around the “current” Shibuya to see all the differences compared to the past

- The social network is crazy and interesting to read through

- Has an anti-frustration system to help 100% complete the game more easily and earn money faster, so post-game is relatively managable.

- Overall, I really feel the efforts the team poured into making this as their passion project, not just during the development process but for all the last 14 years. They showed the vision of what they wanted to make, at the same time giving something to both the old as well as new fans.

CONS:

- The biggest problem with the game is scenario writing. The story is so heavily back-loaded. The director himself thought it would be better to balance out the tension flow by adding more at the beginning but gave in to the scenario writer in the end, probably due to time pressure. This results in an underwhelming execution of characterization and lots of wasted potentials for the first half of the game.

- I struggle to view it as a stand-alone game, since the backstory and the old cast both play such an important role in the core of the game. If someone plays this game without having played the OG, they can only enjoy it on surface value at best.

- The new cast is nice but most of them aren’t quite as intriguing as the old cast, maybe it’s cuz they’re all too nice deep down that they lack a little bit of an edge, of that batshit craziness that everyone in the OG used to have? I think some characters (Fret, Nagi) ended up weaker in terms of characterization because the writer is too afraid of making them unlikeable – which kind of backlashed cuz they only became likable in the most expectable way to cater for a specific group of fans. I would have wished for the other team leaders to be more crazy too, had they not suffered 30+ loops of the Game…

- The CAMERAWORK IS HELL.

- Gameplay does get tedious at certain points with all the time travels.

- Shiba is so badly written as a villain, some Shinjuku characters should be given more screentime cutting into Shiba’s– like Hishima or Kaie or even, Hazuki (though his limited presence also solidified his importance).

- Some of the main character designs, for example Beat’s hairstyle and his food reactions are hilariously bad. What’s the point of covering up most of his unique facial features?

- Some of the minor/side characters’ design are too cool for them to have such a small role (eg: Ayano, Eiru). Ryoji did get much screentime but is nowhere as fun as Makoto was.

- Overall the scope of this game is made a little too big for the team to handle as perfectly as the last game that was very compact, it felt somewhat rushed in development too so the missing pieces are clearly there in the final picture

The entry fee versus paying for it all in the end

An important difference between the Neo game and the original Shibuya game was that the Shibuya rule asked for an entry fee that is the Player’s most important asset, stated as a chance the Composer gives them to reexamine themselves. Meanwhile, the Shinjuku rule neither encourages nor allows personal growth and ultimately aims to erase as many Players as possible. It’s a pity we were never introduced to the full Shinjuku rulebook, as it seems like the system there focuses more on building up power and a grand government to compare with the individuality-driven system of Shibuya.

When you have to compare the new game and the original game (OG), this is an important factor to consider. Also, the OG has a serious storyline running through and through, locked with a different partner/GM creating unique atmosphere for each week and you don’t get to see your old partners again until the end. NEO’s team system does not allow such deep insight and communication between the Players. All of your teammates are always there throughout, the dynamic does change with each new addition but it is not as prominent as a partner change.

Another important factor is how the OG was built from scratch for a new platform as “something no one has ever seen before”, while Neo recycled a lot of old unused ideas from the previous development (check out this interview for more details). The development team for NEO lacks 2 key members and had a change of writer so the final product is not as strongly bound together as the last game.

The new cast is definitely inspired by today’s teenagers (from the view of creators), compared to the old cast they’re more sociable and always seem to take whatever works for them despite feeling unstable inside. They are all innocent and genuinely nice kids, avoiding to hurt each other to a degree that they end up keeping some sort of distance. They’re also unable to communicate at deeper levels, always stagnant at this half-baked stage of equilibrium without any motivation to get to the core of things. That is the cost of entering the game without an entry fee, without even dying or having a reason to be there/to fight seriously. These kids were stolen from the RG into a Game that was decidedly the worst environment for them to change or develop, just wandering around cluelessly to find a way “out” until tragedies started to unfold one by one and they ended up being charged the total sum of the price for their actions – ultimately losing everything in the end.

That is, I believe, a story arc which can resonate more to the youth of today rather than of my generation. If the message of the old game was to “listen”, enjoy life to the fullest and accept to trust others, the message of the new game is to “speak up” from the inside, trying to understand yourself and take actions instead of just going with the flow and finally, to take responsibility for such actions.

If Neku was handpicked by the Composer for being the special one with an all-dense soul to ensure victory of the game then Rindo was just a normal kid chosen out of random by Kubo to be his back-up plan, who just happened to have a high enough imagination to awaken the incredible power from his pin. Rindo was then officially chosen by the Composer as Josh picked up and handed the pin to him again, this time not as Josh’s personal Proxy – but as the Proxy to represent the normal people of Shibuya and via whom he could gamble if humans can fight for their own fate.

The underworld heroine and the hero with little of his own

Shoka is for me a refreshing and layered heroine. She’s the kind of character that took at least 3 trials of creators to form as a complete individual – that included Nomura who gave her the base design and Reaper background, Gen who gave a more cunning touch and the writers who made her English dialogues more punchy. Dishonesty equals “tsundere” is such a cliché, so the English writers tried really hard to avoid that trope in my opinion, while still letting her good intention come through.

She serves as the character who is informed of everything the players should have known, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost. Until she met Rindo.

They were drawn to each other by sharing a state of “not having anything of their own”. They both started out with not being able to truly know themselves, Shoka even hated her RG life but also managed to mature from that stage before Rindo. She must have vibed with Shiki’s love and passion in the Gatto Nero threads, initiating her connection with Shibuya and understanding herself more. With Shoka as Swallow, they were able to open up to each other and offer mental support… but was still not getting to the centre of their problems because for all this time, Shoka could not tell Rindo the most important things about herself.

How did Shoka feel when she met Rindo at the UG? She probably didn’t want to hope that he would live the day until she witnessed the Twisters’ potentials. From the very beginning, they were both incredibly conscious of each other and also constantly frustrated that the person they happened to “notice” was such a condescending bitch/a clueless loser. The Shinjuku Reapers are overall quite drunk in power and uncompassionate to Players, Shoka included. She is also a master of dissociation, which results in her constant boredom, tone swings, haughtiness and subconsciously distancing herself from the friend – the boy she cares about – from false hope, as she judged from facts that it was a hopeless situation where nothing could ever be. Maybe she is naturally a bit of a chameleon just like her name suggests (Shoka 紫陽花 = hydrangea, the color-changing flower), so putting on an act and always dissociating herself from what’s important was easy, while hiding her contradiction was impossible. It was the ex-Reaper Beat who broke it out to her, that she should decide whether she really cared and wanted to do something for a change. He knew how it felt like to cross that line, and knew she wanted to too.

Shoka is endeared by many of the Shinjuku Reapers and has shown independent acts of kindness (the Shinjuku ghost), proving that her kind and truthful side is as real as her harsh and dishonest side – which makes her a nice mirror to the previous heroine Shiki, who also embraced a dichotomy of self-complex and self-love within her character. In the end, she was the first of the new cast to ultimately accept all that is important to her and independently made the decision to help save Shibuya despite all costs.

She was jealous at Rindo’s interaction with Tsugumi and Kanon but remained silent cuz she wasn’t at a place to have any say about it. She also didn’t reveal about Swallow because that would only add an awkward irrelevance to their current situation, as she was too ready to face erasure at the end of the Game. She only wished to “play a game” with him, be it FanGo or the Reapers’ Game. The tension that the team could only feel at the end, she’s felt it the entire time. The song “DIVIDE” is applicable to not just one bond in the game, but it always makes me think of theirs. There is always a “divide” between her and Rindo throughout the course of their journey, as the living and the dead, as a Player and Reaper, as someone who has a place to return to and someone who doesn’t, someone who knows little but wields too much power and someone who knows a lot despite not being able to do much.

“If only I had the chance to connect with you on the other side

But time goes on, and without us realizing it

The battle is getting heated

Time goes on, and without us realiazing it

Divided again”

To be honest, maybe I didn’t grow any affection for the new main cast from Rindo’s perspective but from Shoka’s. Since I started to sympathize with Shoka, I started to see the boy in a more “real” way. The real Rindo, behind his peaceful façade with others, would lash out on Shoka for her unfairly harsh attitude while none of the others cared. He could also subtly feel that mantle of unspoken secrets from her, her own contradictions, the unresolved chemistry between themselves – and not knowing what to do with it rather than to feel angry with all the unfairness he could not process. (As a Libra too, he’s triggered the most by unfairness!)

It is actually a positive development as he’s at least “reacting” to something strongly now rather than to keep evading his problems. During my replay, I clearly saw the difficult situation Shoka was in, her remaining harshness after the Motoi incident was due to her internal struggle with a mission to save her own life, versus a chance to really be with the team. Her decision was to do both at the risk of losing favour from both sides. Rindo started to accept her layer by layer, as the person who resonated the most to her contradicting nature from the start and knew that via learning her resolve, he has learnt his too.

Later into the game, she even got too much of his attention. Maybe even without knowing she’s Swallow, he’s familiar with her thinking direction and Swallow had always been closer to him than any other friend. It was only after she had to betray her important ones twice that she could start being truly honest. The scene when she died a 2nd time left a strong impression in me, the little reveal let Rindo know that he is also losing Swallow as he’s losing Shoka – and that only death could drive the last secret out of her. Her final “Later, loser” echoed through Rindo as it was the final truth, with only him remaining to hear it: they had actually, already lost everything.

Rindo was the boy who never dared to face all that matters to him until he lost it all, fighting an unfair battle in the faith that they would somehow still win. Shoka was the girl who always knew what was dear to her, but never dared to think she could be together with them ever after and still threw her all into a battle she knew was losing. I think they stir each other on naturally to fill out their gaps, similar to what the Shibuya game partner systerm would have aimed for. The end reward was a little divine intervention to help close up the divide between them once and for all.

During the game there was not enough space to process anything personal so at the ending when they officially became “friends”, it was an important affirmation of their bond. Some people complained it was friendzoning but it’s not, they just have arrived at the perfect place to start something more. “From now on, we will truly be together” – I read it as that kind of message.

The heroine from a lost battle, with her story taken away

After reading the secret reports and playing the game to be surprised of how small a role Tsugumi had in the main game despite being the “Hype-chan” thought to be a major character of the next TWEWY installment, many fans would feel sad at a missed opportunity to see the Shinjuku arc in full depiction.

It was shown clearly that, a Shinjuku arc was very carefully planned out and is a vital part of the whole story, yet it could not be made due to various circumstances behind the development scene. I would assume, that the team were not able to make a TWEWY game that ended on a despairing note, but it already happened in their mind, thus becoming a mental burden that forced them to break away from it and started the game anew with NEO. A significant part of NEO became the healing arc for the Shinjuku characters, especially for Tsugumi though I really wished more emphasis should have been placed on her rather than Shiba. We didn’t even get to see her brother – Shinjuku’s Conductor who had a vital role and instead was given the clueless Shiba, who had absolutely no idea what’s going on all the way until the last day in NEO. It’s as if Tsugumi has had her story stolen away from her, because her own battle ended with a saddening loss.

I think every time the game creators look at Tsugumi, they would feel that sadness too. Maybe to them, she is a bigger character than what is seen by the fans, as despite their failed effort to depict her story, she’s lived in their mind for all these years through periods of destruction, healing and rebuild. Though it is a pity we could not get to experience the full scope of the Shinjuku story, the creators was clear about the place they wished for it to arrive at.

Individuality, connection and the social network

The team system adapted from Shinjuku rulebook does not allow much room for personal development, as the team dynamic is closer to a work relationship forced to bear results, than a spiritual bond to max out all corners of understanding as found in the partnership system. The old Shibuya system allowed only 1 winner and 1 week limit per game, while the new rule declares for a 1 winning team and only the team at last place will be erased – the other teams will enter another loop. Furthermore, whichever team to challenge the unwinnable Ruinbringers will face the risk of ending up dead last followed by erasure. As a result, the longest-standing teams are most likely not the strongest ever recorded, but the ones who have figured out a strategy to simply survive until something changes, enjoying their newly found social constructs while they are at it. Basically, it is a system to hypnotise players into the illusion that they are still “living”.

Therefore, we as players would not get to the core of each Player individually as fast and directly as we did in the last game. The Twisters were able to stand out not because they’re powerful, they only started to have a real chance after growing enough to each form a meaningful and personal connection to another teammate. It did not come as a team, nor did it intiate from the existing friendship between Rindo and Fret. In fact, I did not find much solidity or anything truly note-worthy about the main team and new characters within themselves until they started clashing with other team members, Reapers and new recruits from week 2 onwards. Rindo found his personal development with Shoka (via a clash with Motoi and pretty much a mini dating sim between them), then via the confrontation of his role with Neku; Fret found his with Kanon then Nagi, the team learned about the real Neku via Beat, Neku entered the UG via Coco’s wish to save Tsugumi… it was not the team but their personal links that empowered them to fight and solve each of their problems.

The other team leaders may have failed because they did not form such personal links, after 30+ hopeless loops Fuya’s team all fell apart to pursue their own interest even at the cost of erasure, Motoi quit his KOL façade to work like a dog for the Reapers (probably to save just his own ass not his team), while Kanon dropped her tricks to find changes via honest cooperation in acceptance of a fair loss. The despairing note in that is huge without making much of a scene because their failure didn’t happen at their best effort to “win”, but in their last attempt to find a way “out”. Even Shiba got his way “out” in the end thanked to his personal friendship with Hishima and Tsugumi.

Something has shifted in the mindset of the game creators in the last 14 years, as both games are about “connection vs individuality” but the last game focuses more on connection between just individuals and this one on the overall network that is formed out of those individual connections.

The introduction of Beat into the main cast was truly the bridge between old and new, they helped each other out in several turns before officially recruiting him. Beat is a character whom a lot of fans including myself have felt somewhat concerned about after Neku disappeared from the RG, so when the new kids welcomed Beat with warm and organic interaction and Beat seemed happy, I started to feel like I wanted to help them out too! I think the overall team chemistry is enjoyable enough for new players, but I could warm up to the new kids more from the pov of a returning character – whom I’m glad to be Beat, as the older brother figure who is genuinely kind, fun, serious and upbeat at the same time; who is needed and needs the kids in return.

The social network is a fun and refreshing feature. You can read all of the crazy tidbits about Shibuya and the links each character have formed with the town people, it’s also fun to visualize how the characters act off screen. Characters’ profiles provide extra insight into their background too, like how it reveals Tsugumi has been friend with Coco during her time in the RG. During the game when not all characters have showed up, you can sometimes guess which empty spot will belong to whom. For example there is a 1 character linking to Neky that is not linked to anyone else, so I could guess that was Joshua, and that another character linking only to Joshua was probably Hazuki, hinting that the 2 Composers are related before either of them even showed up.

Hazuki only showed up for 5 minutes, but his presence is so vital and true to the game that I think he is the most memorable out of the new cast. The two Composers have such an intriguing bond, with their yin/yang or phoenix/dragon themes, opposite color design, the sempai/kouhai tone and the way they keep some sort of distance/work relationship as if it’s mandatory between Higher beings, yet at the same time they can talk so casually because they are truly equal – and different from one another. I have written a separate meta on them here.

Some people pointed out, that all Shinjuku characters’ names and themes are based off Hanafuda cards and the Phoenix in Hanafuda belongs to the Paulownia suit – which is Joshua’s name flower. This is so interesting because it feels like the creators somehow saw it as a sign to interweave the Shibuya and Shinjuku storylines together. Though it doesn’t come out much on the surface, it’s fascinating nonetheless considering both Josh and Haz had at some point interfered with the other town’s affairs.

“Shibuya tour with Haz” was such a special scene, as it happened between 2 characters who do not/no longer have a reason to care about Shibuya, on the subject of what is worth saving about Shibuya. Hazuki carried out the purification of Shinjuku and stepped in to restore Shibuya just as part of his job and unlike Hanekoma or Joshua who both possess profound understanding of humanity, he really didn’t know humans at all. Rindo’s irrational wish invoked in him a sense of curiosity, to try gambling on something irrationally and learning a bit of what his senior have experienced. With all the pieces put together, it provides an overview on Higher beings as a whole, and that Joshua and Hanekoma are really the odd ones out with Hazuki being somewhere in between them and the rest.

The old friends

It’s easy to have returning characters overshadow the new cast as they have already matured out of their personal story arc and stayed in our hearts for all this time. In the end, I have managed to enjoy both the old and new cast separately and altogether, and they will both find their own place in our memory of this game for the long term.

Sho is truly as crazy as ever, the game wouldn’t be the same if Sho is any less of what he is. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like Neky or Beat is younger than Nagi at all, with moments when it seems like Neky has aged 14 years instead of 3 years. His friendship with Coco surprised me pleasantly, and their interaction together with Beat was fun to watch. Rhyme’s found a new dream and her friendship with Kaie is precious too, especially considering that she can still talk to him online after the game ended. Josh and Neku’s interaction suggested that they have resolved the past and are on equal terms now, they even parted ways in good spirit and I don’t feel any worry about them like I did before.

Neku and Shiki’s reunion scene was beautiful, theirs is such a special bond that it has grown and supported them even without being able to see each other. I am so happy to see them all again and that they stay true to who they are, albeit looking more grown up, cooler and happier than ever before.

Overall, NEO can’t become a classic on par with the OG, but is definitely a good sequel and a good game in its own rights. I’m happy with whether or not there will be a 3rd game to complete the 3 monkeys theme, but if there will be – I hope the creators can really find the time to learn from the last 2 games and start over with a fresh mindset and strong core.

#neotwewy #neotwewyspoilers #ntwewy #ntwewy spoilers #neo the world ends with you #twewy #review #meta #neo twewy #shoka sakurane #rindo kanade #tsugumi matsunae

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ncji · 2 years

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Just thought about it:

ItaNeji but they met when Neji is still a kid, before the Uchiha massacre, Neji is kind of in awe with Itachi and goes about trying to challenge him like he did Asuma, one genius to another and Itachi is charmed despite his best efforts of the contrary.

Itachi turns into a training session every time Neji challenges him to a fight and it becomes a sort of routine or tradition for them; it also let's Neji have an outlet for all the anger and frustration growing inside of him. It's also a bonus having this one secret, this one thing that is only his.

After the Uchiha massacre, Neji is super angry at him for leaving him behind, alone facing his own clan every day; sometimes Neji would think about doing the same, about growing strong enough to pull off the same thing Itachi did and free himself as Itachi did.

From time to time a situation would come up where Neji would be reminded of Itachi and, after the academy and going on missions one of his lessons would be the thing that saved him or made it possible to complete or solve something or another.

Sorry for any typos 😬

[ I don't really understand what you mean by, "after the academy and going on missions one of his lessons would be the thing that saved him or made it possible to complete or solve something or another," but everything else is...I hesitate to say adorable. Because my first thought was Neji took the Uchiha massacre as instructions from Itachi. XD I may be totally off with that, but you know how my brain works. Does Itachi help him from the shadows? That would be

I used to have a verse where Itachi occasionally saw little Neji and insert caged bird metaphors here. He observed him for short precious moments, like an animal in a zoo, and lament about the limits of justice and the fragile structures that held the village up, including clans (the loyal ones anyway). Then, he, uh, left. Blood moon. Obito's clan reunion. "You truly are a kind child." Cue Sasuke living out one of the worst plans by a prodigy ever concocted.

During Neji's jounin years, where he often took long solo missions, Itachi checked up on him, just to see what he was up to. Always impressed, but also disappointed. You know how it is. It's just sad to see him when you think about what's under his headband. Eventually, he began to leave him little messages or lure his attention to things in the environment, like signs from the heavens.

Neji thought he was going crazy at first. Maybe he was just antsy and noticing things that his subconscious wanted him to do. Run away. Fly away. When your heart isn't there, it's time to find a new home. Eventually, though, he began to read them as messages from his father.

One day, he listened to them. Spread his wings and took flight. Unfortunately, he couldn't let his cousin worry about him and believe he'd been kidnapped, so he left her a note saying he was safe, he just wasn't going to return. That was proof he'd defected and enough evidence to put him in the Bingo Book. Nukenin. Kill on sight. Hiashi sent out his clansmen to get ahead of the hunters, to find him and bring him back, but he was too late. Anbu was sent out before Neji could get too far and hide, and they're good at what they do.

Itachi had been good at it too. That was how he knew exactly how to protect his own personal side mission. After saving Neji, he didn't explain his part in all of it, just warned him that it was going to be hard to stay under the radar and even harder to avoid his loved ones. He then gave him some advice and "left" him.

Only, he didn't. He stuck with him for a few days, out of sight, and ensured he was safe.

That one never had any romance or bloodshed, so...is it any wonder I didn't stick with it? ]

#outofthecage ( ooc )#lucyyagami

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jediken0bi · 4 years

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Boundaries

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:

When JJ makes an offhand comment about Spencer not being particularly fond of physical touch to his girlfriend it causes a bit of a misunderstanding.

word count: 3180

Ever since you and Spencer decided to ditch your colleagues for the third time in a row to watch Doctor Who at his place instead, which resulted in him awkwardly admitted to liking you at the end of the night, you two have been practically inseparable. You knew that Spencer was shy when it comes to physical affection from the start but you also knew that a huge part of it was the lack of said affection throughout his life.

Often times he looks surprised when you hug him or kiss him with no particular reason in mind other than that you wanted to.

It's like he's used to only experiencing soft touches in the context of challenging and heartbreaking events happening to him.

You were set on changing that. You're going to make up for all the people who have failed to treat him with the love he deserves.

So far he hasn't stopped you from trying either. You cuddle him every chance you get, you kiss him whenever the opportunity presents itself and the environment allows it, you hold his hand while you're on the jet. You make sure Spencer is on board for all of this though.

You always ask him if he's okay with it before. The last thing you want is for Spencer to feel uncomfortable with you.

He's never denied you though and your question is always received with a big smile on his face.

Despite being very responsive to your touches Spencer doesn't allow himself to outright ask for them. Your best guess is that it comes from a long line of people denying him these simple pleasures. The thought breaks your heart.

You two were in the elevator on your way to meet the rest of the team in the bullpen when it all sort of went south.

You were holding hands with Spencer and he subconsciously squeezes your hand a little once the doors open. You give him a smile and lean up to press a small kiss to his cheek.

He immediately turns bright red and you giggle. He's given up on asking you for their reasons. He's starting to accept that you like kissing him and that's reason enough.

He grins at you and you let go of your grip on his hand. You both walk to your respective desks and stuff your go bags under them.

Before you can make your way back to Spencer you spot JJ across the room seemingly headed straight to your desk.

You know JJ is Spencers best friend and while you admittedly had a hard time accepting that your boyfriends best friend was a woman he used to have a crush on, you decided that you had absolutely no reason not to trust Spencer. He was happy with you and JJ was married with kids after all. Hell, Spence is their godfather. There's no need to worry about either of them having feelings for the other. You're sure of it"

Plus, you really like JJ. She was the hardest to win over simply because she and Spencer were so close but she never treated you with hostility. She was kind and respectful but kept you at distance until she was sure you were right for Spencer. You would've been upset if you weren't so happy someone was looking out for him after all.

"Good morning JJ" you greet her happily.

It really had been a good morning.

You and Spencer woke up earlier than usual to eat breakfast together. He made you pancakes!

Or, at least he tried. They were a bit burned but you told him that they were the best pancakes you have ever had. And you meant it.

He, of course, turned bright red and refused to take the compliment so you shut him up with a kiss.

A kiss that said 'Thank you for making me breakfast. I love you and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life eating burned pancakes with you'.

"Hey Y/N i was wondering if you had a minute to talk. About Spence." JJ approached you with a certain worry in her eyes that immediately unsettled you.

"What do you mean? Did something happen? I just saw him a minute ago and he seemed fine" You say nervously. Was there something you overlooked?

You make a mental note to go through the events of this morning again.

"No, he's fine! It's not that. I just wanted to talk to you about how it's going with Spencer. You know, being a couple and all"

JJ seemed almost nervous.

You weren't sure what to think about that.

She never dug around in your business before and you don't think she's got any malicious intentions but it does throw you off a little bit.

"Did you have something specific in mind? We're doing great, JJ. I know you worry about him but i think he's happy with me"

You say proudly because you know he is.

He tells you every night when you two settle down to lie in each others arms to read for a bit.

That's code for Spencer reading to you while laying his head on your stomach and you playing with his hair.

You smile at the memory.

"Uh yeah i guess i do. I just don't want you to think of this as something personal but i think as his best friend i owe it to Spencer to talk to you about it"

She looks down at her feet seemingly uncomfortable but willing to go through with this.

You were shocked to say the least. What could she possibly have in mind that would potentially hurt your feelings? Your mind goes to the worst possible scenarios and it's giving you a good bit of anxiety.

JJ seems to spot the look on your face and grabs your hands.

"No, no, no it's nothing bad per se! Just something you should be aware of to avoid misunderstandings"

You let out a small breath and calm down a bit. You're still confused though. If it's so urgent, why wouldn't Spencer tell you himself?

You were curious though.

"Okay so what is this about then?"

JJ looks at you with a bit of pity in her eyes and you immediately decide you hate that look.

"It's just that, you know, Spence is a bit of a germaphobe and he just doesn't do very well with people invading his personal space. Not that you're invading his space! Gosh no, you're his girlfriend after all. It's just that it seems like he might be a bit overwhelmed. I know it's non of my business, but i think he's trying to be okay with the PDA because it's something you want. I'm all for expanding your comfort zones but i'm afraid Spence is not going to tell you himself"

She finishes her nervous rant and you felt your heart sinking.

Is that why he never asks for your touch? You thought it was because he was shy but maybe it's because it makes him uncomfortable.

Was he trying to protect your feelings by not denying you touch whenever you asked?

Or worse, did he think you would leave him if he put up some boundaries?

Your eyes are filled with unshed tears and you look down at your feet out of embarrassment. You don't want to see the look on JJ's face right now. You're humiliated and honestly just upset Spencer wasn't telling you all this himself.

"Oh. Well, i'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought we were okay but i'll make an effort to turn it down. Thanks JJ"

It's clear she wanted to say something in return but you already turned away from her to flee the scene. It was overwhelming and you didn't want her to see you cry over this.

You went to the only place you knew you could feel freely without having to downplay the whole thing.

Penelopes Office.

You knock twice at her door.

"Hey Pen, can i come in? Are you busy?"

She immediately opens the door and with it, her arms.

"Never too busy for you honey bun!"

You give her a sad smile and hug her tightly.

You sniffle a little and she closes the door behind you two.

"What's wrong Y/N? Did Spencer do anything? I'll kill him for you. I have about twenty seven different ways that would make it look like an accident! Perks of working for the FBI"

This actually makes you laugh and you immediately know you've made the right call coming to Garcia.

"It's more about what he didn't do. Pen, am i a bad girlfriend?"

She grabs your shoulders and pushes you out of her embrace to look at you.

"What? How could you possibly think that? Boy Wonder has never been happier and i've known the kid for a solid couple of years!"

You look down again with an empty smile

"Then why would he send JJ to tell me all about how uncomfortable i make him?"

Okay so maybe you were being a bit dramatic but it feels like he broke your trust by talking to JJ about it before talking to you. At least, you assume he did. Why else would she bring this up?

"He did what? Are you sure?"

You raise your arms in a frustrated manner.

"I don't know Penny all i know is that JJ had some thoughts on how to be in a relationship with Spence!"

Garcia looked shocked and it makes you laugh.

"Yeah, that was my initial reaction too"

She shakes herself out of it.

"Did you talk to Spencer about what he thinks?"

You look at her with sheepish eyes.

"I don't want to yet. I'm upset with him and honestly a little embarrassed. I just wish he would've told me certain things himself. I think i'm going to take a sick day, okay? Can you let Hotch know i'm out for today?"

She looks at you with understanding eyes and gives you a nod.

"Of course, Bunny. Take care. And don't forget that Spencer loves you!"

You smile and give her a nod in return.

"Yeah, i know"

And with that you're out the door and on your way to grab your bag from your desk.

Of course you end up running into the one person you don't want to talk to right now.

Spencer looks at you with a small smile and you give him one back. Admittedly, yours looks a bit forced but you don't have the energy to pretend right now.

"What are you doing?" He asks innocently. He must be unaware of your conversation with JJ.

"I- Uh i'm taking a sick day. I'm not feeling so well"

You try to avoid eye contact but you fail to ignore Spencers worried expression in your peripheral vision.

"Are you okay? Was it the breakfast? I told you you shouldn't have eaten the pancakes!"

He sounds so distressed you can't help but laugh.

You were still mad at him but he was just too cute for his own good.

Out of habit you raise your hand to plant it on the nape of his neck where you usually toy with his hair before kissing him.

Just as you were about to put your hand on him you shake yourself out of it and retreat it.

He looks at you with confused eyes.

"What's wrong?"

He asks you with sad eyes. He's giving you completely mixed signals and it's driving you insane. Did he suddenly want you to touch him?

"Nothing. I just- I'm really tired"

You look down at your bag and pick it up to make your way out of there.

Spencer grabs your hand and it causes you to stop in your tracks. You breath in and out and turn around to look at him once again.

"Are- I mean are you leaving now?"

He looks at you with an embarrassed glint in his eyes. But there's something more to it. He looks hopeful. Like he's expecting something.

Maybe he's waiting for you to kiss him goodbye like you always do says a small voice on the back of your head.

No, you shake your head, JJ was perfectly clear about these things.

"Yeah, i am. See you later okay?"

You say with a small smile. You weren't mad at him for not being comfortable with PDA. That's not it at all. You just wanted him to be the one telling you.

You squeeze his hand and he exhales a little.

"Yes! Yeah, um, we're still on for tonight right? Your place?"

He seems so nervous and it reminds you a lot of the first few dates you two had. He was so afraid of messing up, of being laughed at or rejected.

"Of course we are. I'll order us some Chinese"

You give him a real smile and he starts lighting up as well.

"Yeah i'd like that. See you, uh, tonight then"

He's still holding your hand and you squeeze it one more time before letting go.

As you step into the elevator you know that you two have a lot to talk about.

--timeskip approx. 8h--

You've spend all day trying to figure out how to talk to Spencer about what happened at work today. You didn't want to fight with him and you hope he's not going to try and shut you out.

All your worries pretty much wash away when you find Spencer at your door holding a beautiful arrangement of flowers.

When he finally reveals himself behind them you can't help but drag him inside and press a kiss to his lips. You smile into the kiss and it's not long before Spencer does the same. It's harder than it sounds like but you two aren't willing to separate yet so you keep kissing for a little longer before leaning back to accept the arrangement.

"Thank you, Spence. They're beautiful"

You push the curls out of his face and cup his cheek in your hand.

He leans into it and closes his eyes for a second

"Almost as beautiful as you"

It's barely a whisper but you heard him.

Putting the flowers down on the counter you don't waste a single second hugging him tight to your chest.

He hums in contentment and you melt into him.

You've missed him so much today. You weren't used to being at distance with him. Emotionally or physically.

Speaking of.

"Does that mean we're okay again?"

Spencer asks pressing small kisses to your neck.

You shutter slightly before leaning back to look at him.

"What do you mean? Were we not okay before?"

You brush the curls that have fallen back into his eyes away again and he looks at you with wide loving eyes.

"I don't know i thought we were but then you didn't- um i don't know you just left and i thought maybe i had done something to upset you?"

He looks nervous. Almost like he's afraid he's going to say something wrong. You give him a small sad smile and decide that now is as good of a time as ever.

"I didn't kiss you because i know you're not comfortable with that"

You weren't mad anymore. You had enough time to process what happened and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer must've had his reasons. You're willing to let him explain.

He on the other hand looks at you like you've grown a second head.

"What? No i- why would you think that?"

You huff out a breath and look at him for a moment with raised eyebrows. You really thought he was going to tell you now. Is he waiting for you to say it?

Spencer looked genuinely confused and upset you would even suggest such a thing. It makes you wonder if he talked to JJ at all.

"Look, JJ came to talk to me today and cleared some things up and honestly i'm not upset about what she said. Not really. I'm upset i had to find out from someone who wasn't you. You could've told me. You should have told me actually"

This didn't do anything to wipe off Spencers confused expression. If anything, his frown just got deeper.

"Y/N i seriously don't know what you're talking about. I haven't talked to JJ this week"

Now it's your turn to frown. Did he not know? Was it really just JJ making assumptions that weren't true?

"But she said- No it doesn't matter what she said. What matters is that i want you to tell me, right now, if my affections make you uncomfortable in any shape of form. It's okay if they do Spence! I know i'm a lot but it's important we're both okay with what's happening between us"

He stares at you with a mix of adoration and confusion.

"Of course i'm not uncomfortable with you! I would tell you if i was. It's not even like you're doing any of it without checking with me first! Why would i lie to you?"

You let out a frustrated huff.

"Because you don't wanna hurt my feelings! But it's okay. We're equals and we can set up boundaries if you want. All that matters to me is that you won't shut me out"

Spencer smiles at you and it confuses you. Why the sudden mood change? Not that you're complaining. His smile always did manage to make you feel better. This time is no exception.

He grabs your hands and pulls you closer again.

This is new. Not the hand holding, but the fact that Spencer is the one initiating it.

"I promise you i have never been more comfortable with a person. I don't know what JJ told you and i'm definitely going to have a talk with her about boundaries but as far as we go, i'm more than happy with where and what we are"

You give him a small laugh and he joins in.

You wrap your arms around his middle and bury your head in his chest.

"So you're okay with me kissing you or touching you in general? In front of the team"

He presses a small kiss to the top of your head.

"More than okay" He whispers

You smile and lift your head to give him a proper kiss. He grabs the side of your head and pulls you even closer.

Lips just millimeters apart you look him in the eyes and find nothing but love in them.

"Also, next time you leave work without kissing me goodbye i'll make a scene. No hesitation"

You laugh loudly and push him away. He playfully stumbles back a couple of steps and laughs with you. He shrugs his shoulders

"Try me"

You lean your head on his shoulder.

You don't even know what you were worried about anymore. Spencer has a way to make all the problems seem to minuscule. You can confidently say you've never been happier.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #reader insert #fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Levi Ackerman x Reader hcs. [COMM]

a/n: i haven’t written for levi in many years!! some lock lore is that i used to write for him the most, it’s actually what got me into fanfiction/anime in the first place back in 2012... so it feels very nice to write for him again. i had a lot of fun with this! :’) word count: 2k. warnings: non explicit mentions of death (not involving reader), just canon typical stuff.

Love has been a concept that remains closed off in Levi’s mind. Getting close to others is already a risk too great in the world he’s come to know, a factor that’s proven unfortunately true time and time again. When you’re close to others, it means the possibility of being hurt by them all the same when they inevitably leave. The pain of losing another he’s grown attached to outweighs the possible benefits that could come with a closer connection. This philosophy has ensnared his heart, creating a barrier that no one dared slipping past for many years.

Even though Levi makes the choice to be wary of growing closer than necessary to people, he also understands the importance of trusting in his comrades. He has his own way of mentally assessing new recruits, and didn’t think much of you initially. You were a fresh face, who hoped that your efforts would cultivate humanity’s future. He’d seen many with that spark too many times to count. All of them ending up killed in gruesome ways, or losing the shine in their eyes should they live past another expedition. Though he still has an inherent respect for anyone willing to put their lives on the line for the Survey Corps, this extending to you as well.

His initial assessment of you was proven incorrect. While no longer as naive to the horrors of the outside world, the spark inside of you remains ever bright. There’s determination, that has only grown in strength as time goes on, rather than fading away. It catches his eye, to say the least. He looks after you from afar, without even realizing it. Levi tells himself that it’d just be a shame if something happened to you. He doesn’t think anything beyond that for some time, for his own mental well being.

Your relationship starts off with no romantic intentions. Levi spots you training on your own one day, even after a grueling day of menial work that comes with being a member of the Survey Corps. He’s captivated, unable to look away from your form. It’s sloppy, he thinks, but not hopeless. You’re not hopeless. It doesn’t sound like a high compliment, but coming from him, it’s meaningful.

It’s startling when he approaches you for the first time. He’s pointing out the numerous errors in your stance and what to do to correct them, never mincing his words. Levi’s standing there, arms crossed, willing you to continue with his input. While being under the scrutiny of humanity’s strongest soldier is anxiety inducing, his advice works perfectly. He doesn’t comment further than that, turning on his heels and leaving you to your thoughts and confusion.

Keeping your body in the best possible condition is vital to staying alive. His advice, though delivered in sharp as knives critiques, serves you well. Even just the bare minimum has your technique rapidly improving. This motivation to keep growing and learning is what drives you. Levi continues to watch from a safe distance as you spend hours doing different exercises, developing your abilities. From this point on it becomes something of a tradition, as much as he tries not to think of it that way. There’s a level of subconscious attachment that comes with looking forward to seeing you improve every evening. He’s acknowledged you.

You start training together. It’s not everyday an opportunity to learn under Levi is offered, so when the hand was extended to you, you accepted it. He’s a tough yet fair teacher, offering praise only when he believes it’s deserved. Unfortunately, he can’t devote that much time to your little evenings due to his other obligations. That makes the time you shared all the more special. Despite himself, he’s looking out for you, and you him. A solid relationship begins to form.

Levi isn’t the easiest person to be around. He’s surprisingly talkative if you get him speaking on subjects that interest him, but his language remains coarse. Once you get used to this side of him, it’s for the better, hours flying by and the night sky appearing before you know it. Unlike others that tend to get offended or avoid alone time with Levi due to his reputation, you remain constant. He never brings it up, though he does wonder why you’re hellbent on seeking him out.

There are still times where Levi holds an internal battle over the unfolding events. He’s starting to like spending time with you, more than just offering wisdom on various subjects he’s knowledge about. He genuinely enjoys listening when you speak, an honor exclusive to you. Through the snark and monotonous comments, there’s clear attachment.

It gets to the point that his closer comrades even pick up on the unusual behavior, this level of respect typically reserved for no one other than Commander Erwin. Though Hanji is the only one to point this behavior out. Everyone else is too frightened at the prospect of teasing Levi over his not so subtle fondness for you. He really didn’t think he was being so obvious...

You’re on his mind more than he cares to admits. His mind wonders to you at night, when he’s in town, or even when he sees something silly that reminds him of you. Eventually, Levi’s thoughts almost always connect to you to some degree. He’ll spot something in the windows of a shop and recall how you mentioned wanting something similar, or subconsciously look for your favorite food when walking through market stalls. The thought of giving you gifts is off putting for a while since it’s a clear sign of of tenderness. And dammit, he’s trying so hard not to become attached -- but who is he kidding -- it’s far too late for that.

What Levi is good at is making swift decisions in the heat of the moment, and combat. So he has literally no idea how to approach his developing feelings for you. There are a lot of impulses, such as complimenting you, but it comes out more like an insult than anything. God bless your soul, because you’re going to be putting up with lots of uncomfortable interactions. He’s trying, okay, but he doesn’t know the first thing about romance.

How he best shows his care for you is helping around in various ways. It isn’t as embarrassing as having to offer compliments, or the other traditional ways of romancing the person you’re interested in. Levi commits to making your life easier in anyway he can. These things range from making sure your horse is in top condition, setting aside rations if he knows you’re too busy to get them yourself, and checking over your equipment personally. He presents all this by saying “You’re prone to making mistakes, so let me do it instead.” In reality he just wants to make life easier for you, don’t be fooled by the prickly comment.

He isn’t blind to the other elements of his attraction to you. You’re always glowing, an angel incarnate, beauty enough to draw in practically anyone with eyes. It was enough to draw him in after all. The first attempts at physical affection are subtle, yet heartfelt. Sitting closer to you, thighs almost touching. Leaning in closer whenever you speak. Lightly brushing his fingers against his face, claiming he saw a spec of dirt on it. All these things to gauge your reaction and build up his own confidence in pursuing you further.

The first time you kiss would be the night before an expedition. It’s always the most gut wrenching experience, anxiety ailing you so badly that sleep refuses to come. The stars are out, not a cloud in the sky. Levi comes to sit by you, chastising you for not being asleep, and offering no rebuttal when you point out that he’s also awake. It’s a serene moment, neither of you exchanging words for some time, finding comfort in each others presence. You don’t even realize how close he is to you. He speaks, the words insignificant, you’ve already long forgot what they were.

When your head turns to offer him your full attention, that’s when he leans in. A chaste kiss is pressed against your parted lips. It’s shocking to say the least, adrenaline pumping through your veins at the intimate moment. His lips are softer than you expected. He treats you with unprecedented delicacy, moving back to assess your expression through lidded eyes. When you’re willing to reciprocate he’s more than happy to let you have your way.

Levi isn’t the best with expressing himself fully through words. His actions more than compensate for this, you’ll never doubt his dedication to you. There’s no need for flowery prose, not when he has proven the lengths he’d go through to keep you safe, bearing all of himself to you. Your relationship isn’t defined by strict terminology, as he admitted to finding stuff like that “a waste of breath”. You both wordlessly acknowledge one another as partners. Any keen onlooker might be able to pick up on this, you don’t hide or put your relationship on display.

It’ll take some time for him to grow more amiable to physically expressing himself. He’s aware of his own strength and intimidating disposition, and doesn’t want to mess what’s possibly the best thing in his life up. So you’ll need to lead in most of those areas. All physical affection is reserved for private moments. Aside from maybe him whispering a sly remark or two in passing.

The affection he likes receiving from you the most would be: Complimenting his actions, when you lay your head on his shoulder, whenever you do little things to help him out without him mentioning it, and when you hug him. He’s never experienced being held by another human being. So when you do it for the first time, he’s taken aback by how pleasant it is. Your comforting scent, how your warmth envelopes him, and how he can feel your heart beating. It’s one of his favorite things in the world, other than you of course.

The type of affection that he gives you the most would be: Acknowledging your growth in different areas (especially if he knows you’re insecure in one of them), putting his hand over yours, reminding you to take care of yourself, and kissing you on the forehead. Levi is a very proactive lover. He’s got a keen eye, picking up on things about yourself before you even notice them. While he might not always have the most tact, everything he does for you comes from a wholesome place.

Levi remains serious in the public eye. But when it’s just the two of you, or the company is people he’s close with, he loosens up considerably. Most of his jokes go over your head, since he always delivers them with such a deadpan. When he gets you to laugh with his dry wit though, by god does it feel good, he could listen to your laughter forever. It might even make his face heat up.

You’re capable of making him smile more than anyone else! Though it’s still rare, that just means that when he does, you treasure it all the more. He smiles the most when you lose yourself in conversation. Rambling about your dreams, stories from your childhood, frustrating encounters that you had that day... all of it warms his heart in a way he never thought possible. You’re an addicting ray of sunshine, that he’s hellbent on protecting.

Levi knows, now more than ever, what he wants from the future. Alongside protecting and expanding humanity’s territory, it’s you that he wants by him, and no cost is too great to achieve it. He won’t lose you -- he’s already lost so much -- so expect him to be protective. There may be limits to what he can do, but they’re all arbitrary to him. Rules and morality mean nothing in the face of ensuring your safety, and he’s vowed this to you. That one day, you’ll have a secure future, forever tied to each other. He might not mention the last part as it’s embarrassing, but the general sentiment is understood.

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #Attack on Titan Imagine #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot x you #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #snk x reader #my stuff #commissions

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quidfree · 3 years

Note

hello ! just wondering, how are warlock and adam doing ? any hcs that didn't make it into the fic? or any thoughts on them that you haven't mentioned? it has been a while since you wrote them so i understand if there's nothing that comes to mind !! just searching for maybe a few crumbs bc i haven't found anyone who writes them nearly as well as you do.

haha, wow, i haven't properly thought of that fic since i wrote it but i do love warlock and adam. let's see what i can offer.

updates on warlock and adam:

they've been fucking around trying to test adam's subconscious control over his powers, with varying degrees of success. adam's longest stretch a full week without any supernatural interference of any variety, but for the moment they are decisively not trying to replicate that success because once the week ended adam's powers went into overdrive and caused global upset as well as leaving warlock thoroughly disney-fied for weeks after the fact, to his profound irritation and adam's supreme amusement. brian enjoyed the veritable zoo of animals tailing him around, though. pepper did not enjoy the constant musical cues. wensleydale thought it was kind of cute. adam insisted that he was powerless to fix it after the 'exhaustion' of fixing the global upset part, which warlock absolutely did not believe given the absolute smugness on his face whenever warlock started sparkling.

on a less consequential level adam and warlock enjoy messing around trying to see to what degree adam can suppress his powers without concentrating on it too hard, but no one else particularly enjoys this because (as pepper puts it) 'you are not fooling anyone into thinking this isn't some kink thing'. warlock pleads the fifth. adam doesn't even bother.

adam is extremely intrigued by warlock's misappopriated demonic/angelic powers, which warlock finds supremely embarrassing given that they can do almost nothing, leave him with a horrible headache, and are in any event completely ineffective on adam himself. adam finds it fascinating, though- for one because despite angels and witches he's in short supply of supernatural friends, for another because he can actively feel that the power does not belong there and adam quintessentially enjoys prodding at a bruise, and of course because he finds warlock's embarrassed pride about his repertoire of tricks suffocatingly adorable. despite warlock's reluctance he does at least appreciate the ace he has, because even though his powers don't work on adam whenever he gets to the point of using them adam knows he's serious, and also adam will inevitably stop being mad at him in the face of his subsequent nausea. never let it be said he's above naked manipulation. gotta make nanny proud.

they've definitely had some extremely melodramatic fights since the fic ended, as is the nature of two antichrists(ish) dating each other. a lot of it is predictable- adam tries, but his powers have less of a conscience than he does, so there have been Incidents, like the time the oxford rowers capsized violently during a race. on a lesser scale the demonic powers are jealous to a fault, which adam really actively isn't (or at least not consciously), which warlock knows full well he should find less charming. it's just sometimes they kind of feed into each other's vices- adam doesn't keep a tight enough rein on his powers and warlock gets mad but also kind of maybe encourages it and then adam gets irked at warlock and...

adam takes great pleasure in being the boyfriend-iest boyfriend of all time, naturally, so reality bends for warlock's convenience if he so much as frowns to himself. warlock is really trying to be less flustered every time because he knows full well it only encourages him, but he's kind of a complete sucker for attention and affection, so it's not going very well for him. he would hate himself more if he wasn't so busy trying not to melt into the floor. adam is horrible and will fully just sit there chin in hands observing him dreamily as warlock fights to regain his cool. still, warlock gets him back as best he can- he's starting to combine crowley's vicious revenge plans with aziraphale's 'kill em with kindness' moves, which results in him darkly plotting just for the purpose of doing something nice that'll catch adam off guard. adam is always thrilled by being hoodwinked, and then also not actually all that used to people making a concerted effort to draw emotions out of him, so he falls prey to these shenanigans more easily than you'd expect. unlike warlock he never offers any resistance, though, so warlock has to content himself with the victory of watching his powers go wonky- blossoms bursting out of the walls or fireworks outside the house or the whole room going sort of liquid and pink.

crowley and aziraphale are both horrible teases with regards to the boys (as they should be, since they get it far worse in return). crowley likes to make pointed comments about lustful auras or needle them about the freudian implications of their behaviours, whereas aziraphale will just go on at length quoting love poetry or asking them about their feelings with the utmost tenderness until crowley takes pity and informs them he's doing it on purpose. they both find them intensely cute, though aziraphale is just delighted by this where crowley is trying very hard to appear less thrilled than he is. warlock is mostly weirded out about their commentary about the supernatural aspects of the whole ordeal, where aziraphale will be like 'oh, my, that poor demon fellow who hit you really seems to be taking badly to the dismembering and hot pokers in the pits of hell. could you pass the ladder?' and crowley will be like 'unholy hell, adam, control yourself, if i have to see one more demonic apocalypse murder-beast turned into an adorable stray cat i'm going to be sick'.

the them, obviously, are also weirdos and like to observe the whole warlock-adam dating debacle with the interest of scientists observing an experiment in a lab, mainly in terms of adam's never-ending capacity to reveal new and exciting facets of his personality and/or powers. brian takes it all in stride the easiest, so he'll just be like 'oh, neat, a peach tree' and take himself a peach when it erupts in the middle of the library. wensleydale somehow winds up playing confidante so he sits through all the over-sharing and also all the fighting details and then does deep research to attempt to provide them with a helpful answer. sometimes he just reads cosmos. he thinks warlock is onto him. pepper's very secret and very dark fear is that one day adam will decide kids would be fun and hellspawn will just pop into existence fully-formed and dangerously adorable. they are all very impressed by the odd occasion on which warlock actually gets adam to decide he was wrong about something, though pepper is firm that it does not count when adam is only agreeing because he's too blissed out to pay attention.

i hope that you enjoy these crumbs-and thanks, incidentally <3 comms are always open, if you're looking.

#qui parle #qui repond #anon #good omens #qui ecrit #hcs #warlock dowling #adam young

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bluemoonbeam15 · 3 years

Text

Panic Attack

Been needing some brotherly fluff between my two boys, so here we go!

Also, a headcanon I have for Flik is that he does struggle with anxiety and the terrible symptoms that come with it.

<><><><><><>

"Wait! Please, no! I-I'm sorry!" Flik became sickeningly aware of his surroundings. The rain thundering around him as lightning shed light on the scene taking place. Between the elements and the screams resonating from above, Flik's voice barely carried past his lips.

He was back at the bird's nest, hidden behind the rock. Well, he was hidden behind the rock. Atta had tried pulling him back by the arm but the inventor slipped out of her hold. He ran out toward the nest, screaming at the top of his lungs.

His screams didn't compare to that of Hopper's, though.

A part of his subconscious was telling him it was all just a nightmare. A twisted memory of that night. But all rationality had washed away with the rain. All he knew was that his best friend was back in the mouth of that bird, dangling over her chicks.

Atta finally took him by both wrists and yanked him back from the danger. "Flik, what is wrong with you? We have to hide! That thing will eat us too if we stay out here!"

Flik grit his teeth and whirled to face her, "Let it have me! I need to save Hopper!"

She was obviously taken aback by his statement, so much so that her grip loosened enough for him to run off again. Despite everything, he knew it was too late. Hopper's screams grew more desperate by the second as the bird's head lowered.

But Hopper was still alive outside the dream, right? He...He had escaped, somehow. Maybe Flik would be a witness to how exactly that came to be. Hopper mentioned ripping out his wing.

Under this false security, Flik forced himself to slow in his pursuit. The hope he held kept his eyes glued on the scene, waiting for Hopper to free himself. Flik's gut twisted with every millimeter that shortened between the grasshopper and the baby birds.

"No...This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Flik balled his fists, still praying and waiting for Hopper to come through. He was supposed to be the--the strong and fearless mentor. The one who could escape anything, even death. Flik couldn't even think of a moment where he'd seen that kind of fear on Hopper.

But now it was a moment he'd never be able to forget.

And in spite of himself, his eyes couldn't look away. Even as the tears blurred the scene before him, he couldn't move or scream as Hopper never pulled out from his trap. For the first time since making amends with the grasshopper, Flik was finally seeing and reflecting on what could have happened that night. Every image burned in his mind's eye. The screaming. The mauling. Everything. It wasn't until the screams were silenced that Flik realized he was making the noise as well.

"Flik!" The ant jolted awake mid-scream. His face felt hot from the fear and tears had dried on his cheeks. Hopper was looking down at him, hands gripping the ant's arms. "What's wrong? You were screaming bloody murder! I could hear you all the way from my room."

The ant no sooner wrapped his arms around Hopper's neck, hugging him as if his life depended on it. Hopper stuttered for a second before Flik interrupted his efforts, "I'm sorry! I-I should've...I-I don't know...done something else! Anything but that! Y-You...you could have died a-and it would've been all my fault and--"

"Woah, kid, take a breather for a moment," he could feel Flik trembling now and the tears landing on his chest. "I'm not dead, alright? Let's focus on that for a moment."

Flik pulled back a bit, "B-But you could have and I-I just stood there!"

Hopper deepened his voice to get the ant's attention, "Flik," the kid snapped his mouth shut, "breathe." Hopper pulled him close again, "Don't think about it for a second, alright? You can tell me about it later or tomorrow. Just relax for right now."

Ten minutes had to have passed by. Flik was still trembling like a leaf, but Hopper never let go. He kept rubbing circles on Flik's back, trying to help in what way he knew how. There was one thing he remembered his mother teaching him during moments like this. Quietly, "What are some things you can hear right now?"

Flik blinked his eyes open in confusion, not looking up, "W-What can I hear?"

"Yeah. Tell me something, anything."

"Well...," Flik took in a shaky breath, "y-your heartbeat, I guess."

"Alright. What about what you can see?"

"It's...I-It's dark," Flik answered lamely.

Hopper breathed out a laugh, "No dip, genius." Flik laughed a bit with him, "Try opening your eyes."

Flik slowly lifted his head up, facing the wall as he rested the side of his head against Hopper. "There's the wall."

"And what do you feel?"

"...Safe."

Hopper quirked his mouth, "That's...not really the answer I was looking for, but yeah, glad to hear." The trembling in Flik's body finally ceased. Hopper felt the ant's arms droop, "It's still really early in the morning. Why don't you try sleeping again? You know, that thing where you don't scream your lungs out in the middle of the night." He grinned down at Flik, who gave a tired smile.

The smile faded and Flik dropped his arms to pull at his fingers, "I...the nightmares might come back, though."

Hopper sighed through his nose, "You ants are skittish creatures, I tell you." He laid himself down on the bed and let Flik settle beside him, "First Dot needs me to sing her to sleep, then Molt -- little cry baby -- wants to share a room like we used to. And now you get all clingy on me. When I was a kid we sucked it up and lived with nightmares."

"That certainly explains a lot," Flik laughed. "If you ever have a nightmare, though, I'll help you out."

Hopper snorted, "That'll be the day."

Flik took in a deep breath. Every time those memories tried flashing back, he opened his eyes quickly to remind himself that Hopper was still here. Still alive. Eventually, his eyes couldn't hold themselves up and he surrendered to the exhaustion. This time, however, he stayed asleep throughout the rest of the night.

#a bugs life #flik #hopper #family #hurt/comfort #anxiety #fanfiction #writing #I love their brotherly bond #Hopper is such a good brother #poor flik #we'd all stay up with the sweetheart to keep him calm

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soft--dragon · 3 years

Text

Dreamon

Alrighty boys, here it is! Angsty time >:)

Word Count: 2,767

Warnings: just cursing, a little violence, and emotional manipulation

George had never been claustrophobic, something he was grateful for, but standing in a box that had three walls of obsidian, and the other wall being made of lava, it felt somewhat hard to breathe. He was almost backed up to one side of the room, his eyes locked to the other sole occupant. Dream's mask covered his whole face, his hair longer than George had ever seen it, was tied back in a messy bun. His clothing hadn't changed, it was just dirty and the iconic, beloved hoodie had seen better days.

Something was really wrong.

No matter what, Dream had always taken care of that hoodie. Regardless of the circumstances, that one piece of clothing had always stayed in perfect condition. George already had a suspicion, for everything that had happened. And he was praying it was both right and wrong.

"Dreamon," he said shortly. "How long have you been in control?"

The man chuckled, but it wasn't Dream. "What are you talking about George?" He asked softly, his voice warm and radiating the same friendly energy Dream always had.

George clenched his fist, his teeth gritting as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Stop it” he hissed, “I know you’re not him so you can give up the façade Dreamon, I know my best friend, he isn’t you.”

Dream watched him for a long moment before his posture slumped slightly, his shoulders rolling back. “Well then, I’m impressed Georgie, when did you figure this out?” It’s voice was dark and radiated gravitas, filling the small cell though it was barely raising its voice.

Ice pooled into George’s stomach, his heart dropping in but he forced himself to not show anything. “It took awhile” he replied coolly, “but it makes sense. Dream would never do any of those things you made him do. Exiling a child, blowing up L’manberg? No, Dream wouldn’t have ever done that, that level of manipulation isn’t possible for him.”

Dream’s head tilted down, watching George with a side eye before he smiled slightly. "Are you afraid of him George?" he asked, soft and sweet.

The way it made Dream say his name made the older man take a step back. "What are you talking about? I’m not afraid of Dream-”

"Yes you are."

It had moved Dream in front of him. "You're terrified." It reached out Dream's hand to gently push some hair from George's eyes. The contact made George flinch, smacking the hand away as he took a quick step back.

"I'm not," he insisted, voice on the verge of shaking despite his efforts to control it. "I'm not afraid of him."

It made Dream cock his head to the side, akin to the curiosity of a puppy. "Then...me?"

George was itching for a weapon, anything to put distance between himself and that monster. "Yes" he admitted darkly, "but I'm not scared for me, I'm scared for Dream, you're torturing him."

"Torturing?" The demon laughed, and used Dream's laugh to do so. It sounded so, so wrong. "He chose me George."

Anger pulsed through George's veins, his rage bubbling deep within him. "You're possessing him against his will!" He snarled. "You've been possessing him for months! I know my best friend! He's not the twisted psychopath you've turned him into!"

"Really?" It purred. "Dream is many, many things George, he was always a psychopath, I just helped him embrace it."

George's hands curled into tight fists, gritting his teeth. "He's my best friend" he repeated, "he isn't like this."

"Think back George" it said coyly, "to every manhunt, every brilliant scheme, every stick of dynamite he set off."

George shook his head, his eyes locked the floor. "He isn't a psychopath...he isn't-"

A hand rested in his hair, gently carding through the locks. "He is" it murmured, "he's insane George."

George grasped Dream's wrist tightly, but couldn't find it in him to push the hand away. "Stop..."

It grasped his chin gently, tilting his head up to meet it's gaze. "I would never lie to you, George."

Oh god. Dream had said that to him years ago. A promise to his loyalty-

"Then prove it to me" George bit out, doing everything in his power to not flinch at the contact.

It looked at George for a long moment. "You want to see how twisted he's actually become?"

George swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them, glaring at the demon with eyes of fire. "Yes," he stated firmly. "Take off the mask, show me."

Dream sighed but stepped back and reached behind his head. With a sharp click, the mask slipped off his face and fell with a crack against the floor. Dream's eyes were glowing green, illuminated in the dim lighting of the prison. They bore into George's brown eyes, making him want to run. They were wild, nothing like the eyes he knew Dream had. But then Dream blinked twice and his eyes dulled to their regular color. He gave a short cry then stumbled backwards, gasping and coughing harshly.

"Dream?" George outstretched his hand cautiously, he didn't want to take any chances. The demon might be tricking him-

Dream's gaze snapped up to George and recognition dawned in the younger's eyes. "G-George" he gasped and tried to step forwards but his knees gave out underneath him and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Dream shit-" George bolted forwards, sliding onto his knees, not even caring that he had ripped the fabric as he tried to help the boy up.

Dream held his hands tightly in a shaking grip, his eyes were filled with terror. "George- George I'm sorry- I couldn't stop him- h-he made me- I'm sorry-" he whispered in a rush, trembles breaking out across his whole body. "He forced me to do those things- I can't get him out of my head- George I need help- please help me-"

George's eyes filled with tears. Dream sounded so goddamn afraid.

"Dream" he murmured, bringing the taller man into his arms, pressing his cheek to the fluffy hair.

Dream curled into his chest, sobbing roughly. His hands gripped the back of his shirt like if he were to let go even marginally, George would disappear. "George please get him out of my head- I want him to leave- I c-can't-"

George rocked him gently, rubbing circles on his back. "I've got you" he whispered, "I've got you Dream."

Dream hiccupped, gripping George's shirt tighter. "I'm sorry..." He whimpered, his voice cracking.

"You don't have to apologize" George whispered, glaring at the mask that lay on the floor a few meters away. "It's not your fault-"

"Yes it is!" Dream cried, "I let him possess me George! I didn't know what he would do but I should've said no! He- h-he-" Dream keened, gripping George's shirt. "He used me..."

George wanted to destroy that mask, obliterate it until there was nothing left. But it was indestructible, everyone knew that. He mentally cursed Dreamon with every foul word he knew, Dream shouldn’t have to suffer for that monster’s entertainment.

Dream’s quiet, broken voice whispered out; "...How...how many people did he hurt?"

George’s throat went dry at the question. "A few" he murmured.

Dream’s hands tightened on the back of his shirt, tugging slightly as he hissed; "Don't lie to me George, please don't, not about this."

George clenched his eyes shut, heart breaking even more at Dream’s wrecked, desperate voice. "...Tommy's practically traumatized" George mumbled. "No one trusts you, not anymore...he hurt all of them Dream."

"Tommy's traumatized...?" Dream whispered, horrified. "Shit what did he do to him?"

George shook his head. "I barely know half of it, the kid's fucked up bad, Sam and Puffy are taking care of him though."

"Thank god" Dream mumbled, "they're good people, they'll look after him."

George hesitated, running a hand over dream’s back again . "Can...can I ask you something?"

"You know you can ask me anything." There was the Dream he knew, genuinely kind-hearted and not the twisted pretense Dreamon had.

George tried to figure out the best way to say it. “Do you...see what he does? Can you see out of your eyes when he's possessing you?"

Dream visibly winced, curling further into George’s chest.

George quickly rushed to reassure the boy. "You don't have to answer, I know you don't like talking about it-"

"I see fragments" Dream cut across George's apologetic rambling, his voice low and tired. "It's like I'm seeing flashes of the outside world while I'm stuck in a box."

"That...sounds horrible."

"I got used to it after the first few weeks" Dream hugged George a little bit tighter subconsciously. "The most recurring visions were explosions, TNT going off in varying quantities, I remember Tommy being there for the majority of them."

George nodded, squeezing Dream gently.

"He let me see more sometimes, it was like he was taunting me, knowing I couldn't do anything to escape. I saw you, and Sapnap, and Bad. But he only let me see you guys when you were angry or upset. He knows how much I care about you all, it was a way of him letting me know he was in control. He let me know I couldn't help you guys...that I was trapped."

George's heart broke. Gods, how long had it been since that thing had actually let Dream be free of it's grip.

"I'm so sorry Dream" he whispered, "I should've done something."

"Please don't blame yourself," Dream begged him quietly. “Dreamon is my problem.”

"And you're my friend" George argued, pushing Dream back a little to look him in the eyes. "Whenever I had a problem, you always helped me, whether I asked for it or not."

George's vision swam as tears budded in the edges of his eyes. He took in a shaky breath, gripping Dream's shoulders. "I’m going to find a way to free you, I swear, I’ll get Sapnap, and Karl, and Quackity, we’ll get him out- Dream I promise you."

Dream stared at George, eyes widening. "George I-" He suddenly choked, hands shooting up to grip at his hair.

George startled at the sudden outburst. "Dream are you okay-?"

"Fuck- no not again-" Dream whimpered, pushing George away, "-a few more minutes, please, I can't go back- I can’t-"

George swung round to look at the mask. The eyes were glowing green. "Dream you have to fight him" George looked back at his friend, trying to take the boy's hands from his hair.

"I c-can't- George" Dream looked up at him with eyes full of tears and fear. "I'm sorry..."

He suddenly twisted away from George and slammed his fists into the floor, letting out a choked cry. Panic gripped George as he scrambled up, clenching his fists into his hair.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" George turned to the lava wall quickly, rushing as close to it as he dared. "SAM!" He screamed. "SAM! DREAM NEEDS HELP! SAM-!"

A hand locked around his throat, cutting off his desperate yells and making him choke. He was lifted a few centimeters off the floor, his legs kicking out at the air dangerously close to singeing himself on the lava.

A low chuckle made George’s heart drop. "Aww Georgie."

Oh gods no.

"You really do care about that psychopath don't you?"

"Not- a- psychopath-" George bit out through short breaths, "he's my friend-"

He was lowered a bit and he felt Dream's chin rest on his shoulder.

"He's mine now George" it growled, his hand squeezing George’s throat tighter causing gasp for air to grow more desperate. "He's my puppet, and there's nothing you can do to save him."

It threw George across the cell. The man struck the wall with such force his breath was completely knocked out of him. He slid down to the floor, head pounding and pain scorching across his back. His breaths were wheezy and his throat burned every time he tried to inhale, tears stung his eyes painfully. What made it even worse was that he couldn't even move.

Dream went over to his mask, picking it up and sliding it over his face. George briefly caught the illuminated green eyes watching him coyly.

It made Dream wave at George then he stepped towards the lava wall. "SAM!" He called. "GEORGE WANTS TO LEAVE NOW!"

"N-No Dream-" George rasped, his voice barely able to be heard. His throat was on fucking fire.

The lava walls were lowering rapidly, having already started after George's previous yells. Dream strolled over to George, grabbing his arm roughly and dragging him towards the lava.

"You- c-can't keep- him under f-forever" George tried to sound strong but with a shaking voice that was barely a whisper and laced with pain and fear, it only made Dream chuckle.

"Oh? Who's gonna stop me George? You? Sapnap? Bad?"

Talking was scorching his throat, overwhelming but he tried to push out his threat. "W-We all will- I'll get everyone on the server- to fight you-"

Dreamon laughed. "Now that is funny, if I remember correctly, you said that no one trusts Dream anymore, and even if you did somehow manage to convince everyone to fight me, you'd only kill Dream. He's on his last life George, and I live within an indestructible mask."

He dropped George by the lowering wall of lava. "Now you run along home, and don't worry, I'll take very good care of Dream."

George wanted to punch that mask right between the eyes. But he was still struggling to move, let alone breathe, his throat felt like sandpaper.

"You're a monster" he wheezed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Dream chuckled again, shifting away. "Of course I am George, I thought that was obvious." He raised his voice a bit, waving to the man on the other side of the lava lake. “Samuel! I think George needs some help getting back over!”

George turned his gaze to Sam who was holding his trident readily, eyes locked to Dream. “Stay on the wall Dream!” he ordered sharply.

Dream raised his hands, “I know, I know.”

The platform approached the cell, Sam on top of it and looking more than ready to fight should he need to. He stepped off, holding a hand out to George who could barely raise his own to take it. Concern filled Sam’s eyes as he gently hauled George up, the worry amplifying at George’s small whimper when Sam pulled the boy to his side. The pair stepped onto the platform, being carried to the other side of the lava lake. Dream waved lazily as the lava sank again, hiding the man from view.

“George what happened?” Sam turned the younger to face him, taking in the boy’s red throat and developing bruises.

George’s eyes filled with tears as he vehemently shook his head. “D-Dream-” his voice broke and he whimpered at the pain shooting through his throat.

Sam bit his lip behind the gas mask. “Shhh, don’t talk, I’ll find a potion to help with your throat-”

George wrapped his arms around Sam, pushing his face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry” he whimpered. “I- I just need a minute-”

Sam’s tough exterior cracked right down the middle. Screw being the warden, George needed him right now. He held the boy close, cradling his head and running a hand up and down the boy’s back, feeling slight bumps from developing bruises.

“You can tell me later, rest your throat for now George” he murmured, “take as much time as you need.”

George’s lower lip trembled and he held Sam tight, sobs wracking his shoulders and making his throat sear with pain. They stood in front of the lava for far longer than a minute, George crying into Sam’s chest and the warden holding him tenderly.

Dreamon smiled to himself within the cell, hearing Dream yell and cry out at him for attacking George.

“You see what happens when you ask for help Dream?” He asked quietly, “people you care about get hurt, do them a favour and stay quiet, maybe then you won’t be such an inconvenience to them all.”

Dream’s fiery spirit dimmed, shrinking back at the Dreamon’s words. You're wrong he whispered, voice borderline desperate.

“You know I’m not” Dreamon purred, “They all get so annoyed with your issues Dream, this is one of them, how much do you think they’re willing to put up with?”

Dream’s spirit faded again. George said….

“He lied,” Dreamon murmured, soft and reassuring. “I’m the only one who cares about you Dream.”

The spirit flickered and recessed, soft whimpers echoing in the headspace. Dreamon smirked. “Don’t worry Dream, I won’t leave you.”

#mcyt #dsmp #my fanfic #fanfic #awesamdude #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #dreamon #angsty time boys >:)#i am in spain without the s

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plutonct · 4 years

Text

remember remember- n.jm

summary; bestfriend au- celebrating bonfire night on the cold november evening leads to warming up with your ~best friend~ in his car

warnings; car sex, unprotected sex, grossed out 00 line

an; REMEMBER REMEMBER THE 5TH OF NOVEMBER GUNPOWDER TREASON AND PLOT i think this is a british thing so like welcome to my culture where we make replicas of a man and set him on fire 😌 wow the uk is savage. for context, in the uk the 5th of november is celebrated as bonfire night or guy fawkes night and basically celebrates the death of guy fawkes who was famously hung, drawn and quartered after plotting to kill the king with gunpowder.

the vibrant colours of the fireworks lit up the sky as you cuddled in closer to your best friend’s chest. in the cold evening hours of november, your body shivered slightly as the chills of the wind overpowered the small amount of heat radiating from the fire in front of you. the stuffed and clothed fabric that had been set on fire was doing little to warm you up due to the ‘safe distance’ rules.

"y/n? are you okay? you look freezing." jeno, one of jaemin’s friends spoke up distracting you from how the blonde next to you was tracing circles onto the smooth skin of your arm.

"it’s a bit cold, nothing i can’t handle though." you laughed a little as you spoke, trying not to let the chatter in your teeth give you away. jaemin obviously didn’t believe you, turning to look into your eyes.

his face was illuminated by the warm radiance of the fire, his skin quite literally glowing. the crackling of the fireworks was still going on, kids laughing and gasping to their parents at the pretty explosions of colour. unlike the others there, clearly you hadn’t got the memo of dressing appropriately after shoving one of jaemins hoodies on (with no top underneath) and a pair of thin leggings.

"guys i’m feeling quite chilly, i’ll take y/n back to the car." jaemin spoke up to the others in your little circle, earning small murmurs of acknowledgement before they returned back to their conversations about spooky stories and whether or not ghosts were real. though his eyes left yours for a second, they were immediately back gazing into your own as if you were the only thing that mattered to him. and you were.

jaemin wasn’t so sure how long he had been harbouring feelings for you, having to constantly push himself back into line as ‘the boy best friend’. what he did know however, was that you looked ethereal in that moment. the same glow from the fire reflecting onto your own skin, your eyes glossy from what he assumed was also the low temperature.

he patted your side as a signal he was standing up and you immediately shrunk your arms into the large hoodie draped over your frame, letting the ends of the sleeves hand over your fingertips to your hands up. jaemin on the other hand had different ideas, lacing his fingers with yours and shoving the cluster of appendage into his coat pocket.

the walk to his car was in comfortable silence, basking in the somehow peaceful moment despite the loud cheers, chatter and bangs in the background.

"you know you don’t have to lie, right? if you’re cold you can just tell me." jaemin spoke up, nudging his elbow into your side as the two of you approached his black car.

"i know. i just didn’t want to take you away from the others just because i was cold." you stopped for a moment and turned to look up at him, only to find he had already been looking at you. this happened a lot, he would always seem to stare at you with such fondness and adoration, it stirred up butterflies in your tummy. your best friend let out a breathless chuckle, unclasping his hand from yours and bringing it up to rest against your cheek.

for a moment your breath hitched, attention now drawn to the warm hand rubbing soothing strokes onto the plush skin of your cheek.

"y/n i would drop everything for you. i hope you know that." jaemin’s eyes flitted from your kissable lips back to your eyes, this not going unnoticed by you. heat pooled in your stomach at his gestured and words. you raised your own hand and placed it on his cheek, just like he had.

"then i hope you know i would do the same for you."

that was all the confirmation jaemin needed, with the clear affirmation that his feelings were reciprocated, he brought his face closer to yours. you could feel his minty breath fanning over your lips before taking the initiative and closing the distance yourself.

your lips molded together perfectly, his chapped ones moving immediately against your own desperately. he had waited so, so long for this moment. he had dreamt about it in his sleep, fantasized about it in his classes— but you weren’t any different.

as the kiss started getting heated, jaemin reached for his carkeys in his pocket with the hand that once rested on your waist, hurriedly pressing the button to unlock the vehicle. the moment he did so, you reached to open the cardoor, clambering into the back seats.

"you have no idea how— long i waited— for this." jaemin spoke in between kisses, climbing in after you and slamming the door shut, hovering over you whilst using his forearms to hold him up. the space in the car was limited, but he did his best to work with what he got.

"same," you breathed out before jaemin hungrily reattached his lips to yours, "same."

the male shrugged off his thick coat, letting it drop onto the backseat floors in a heap before pulling off his shirt to join it, leaving him in his black adidas trackies that he always seemed to wear. his bare toned torso was now on full display under the dim lighting from the car, broad shoulders and defined muscles enticing you even further to rake your fingers along his body. and you did so, his muscles going rigid for a moment as they tensed up before relaxing again, jaemin just letting you feel him up.

"as much as you seem to like my body, princess, we have more important things to be getting to." the smug smirk on jaemin’s face almost made you whimper but you clamped your lips tight, just looking up at him. he cursed lightly at the desperate shine in your eyes, glossed over making them sparkle.

seeing as jaemin was preoccupied with staring at your face, you took it upon yourself to pull down your leggings and shimmy your legs out of them, revealing your bare legs and underwear-less heat. you hated wearing pants with your leggings seeing as they always gave you a visible panty line.

jaemins eyes widened when he looked down, the erection enclosed in his trackies growing, trousers tightening.

"holy shit princess, were you expecting this?"

you weren’t, but that made it all the better. this time you let out the whimper, clamping your legs shut for some sort of desperate friction.

"p-please jaem-ahh" before you could even finish your words, he had tugged his own trackies down just enough for him to release his throbbing cock. you moaned at the sight whereas the cold air hit the hot skin of his member, coaxing a hiss from his mouth.

"shit— i’m on the pill just please!" you grabbed at his biceps, pleading with him as your pressed your thighs together even harder. with this newly attained knowledge, jaemin grabbed himself at the base of his cock, beginning to line himself up with your dripping core. he didn’t even have to touch you to know, your folds glistened with arousal.

he ran his head against your slick slit, arm holding him up nearly faltering at the first inch of pleasure. your arms immediately went to wrap around his torso, legs hooking around his hips to pull him even closer. jaemin pushed the rest of himself in slowly, releasing low groans that mixed with your higher pitches whimpers.

"h-how are you so—fuckkkk— tight?" he gritted his teeth and removed his hand from his shaft, moving it to help himself keep steady. at his words you subconsciously clenched around him, causing him to moan louder.

he started his thrusts slow and deep, taking his time to explore you and savour the moment. but this didn’t last long, your want and need overpowering your other senses.

"j-jaemin, ahhh-go faster!" you demanded, starting to buck your hips against his. a devilish grin appeared on his face, moving one of his hands back down to your hip to hold it down.

"as you wish, princess."

his hips snapped rapidly into yours, the change in pace making the growing feeling in your lower stomach grow faster, your moans becoming more frequent and louder. the small space in the car was slightly uncomfortable, the windows were even fogged up but in this moment neither of you cared. his pace was relentless, never letting down as he slammed into you over and over, reaching depths no one else before him had managed to reach.

you started seeing stars, body barely sliding along the seats of the car at the sheer force of jaemin’s thrusts. your eyes starting rolling into the back of your head, fluttering shut as your fingertips dug into jaemin’s back, trailing down and leaving fresh red scratches in their wake.

"jaem, i’m gonna c-um," you managed to get out, the boy smiling at your pliable state. he was also very, very close, beads of sweat rolling down his face at the now hot temperature inside the car and as a result of the effort he was putting into fucking you.

after one sharp thrust, the angle perfect, your orgasm washed over you. your legs twitched slightly and your back arched, vision momentarily clouded. your wet walls clenched around jaemin’s cock, triggering his own release just after yours.

"fuck, y/n." he groaned quietly, his cum coating your pussy walls in short bursts as he relaxed on top of you, panting.

the two of you stayed there in the comfortable almost silence, chests raising and falling heavily as you both regained composure.

"so... what does this mean for us?" you asked quietly, jaemins head resting on your hoodie clad chest. he turned up to look at you in disbelief, chin resting on your ribs.

"you’re my girlfriend. i think. i mean you dont have to be but-" you cut off his rambling by grabbing his jaw and pulling him up for a sweet kiss.

"i’m your girlfriend."

bonus:

the two of you sat and waited in the front seats, enjoying eachothers presence in the newly found relationship. the car doors opened and jeno, renjun and donghyuck slid in, sitting in the back seats. you froze up momentarily, looking at them through the rear view mirror.

renjun, as the smallest, was sat in the middle. his face contorted into one of disgust, eyebrows furrowing as he immediately unclasped his seatbelt, leaping over to sit on jeno’s lap instead. he would rather that then stay sat on whatever the fuck he was just sitting on- and god he hoped it wasn’t what he thought.

"what’s wrong?" jaemin turned to renjun with a playful glint in his eyes, knowing why he had that reaction.

"why the fuck is your middle seat wet?"

jeno and donghyuck then looked at the wet patch on the seat before cringing and gagging.

"gross!"

"renjun give me my $10 please."

#na jaemin smut #na jaemin #jaemin #bonfire night #guy fawkes #nct #nct dream #jaemin smut #nct dream smut

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

Note

hi! So I have being thinking (or observing) lately, how people prefer lu//ka over ni//no (I mean lu//ka is shoved everywhere but thats not the point). Like lu//ka is praised for being chill, akumatized for someone else, being 'musical', protective, etc (honestly ni//no has more qualities unlike... Yeah). And it just bothers me so much idk. I mean pocs are always side eyed in favour of white characters that's not new but I guess the is-ni//no-actually-lu//ka (though a v fun crack idea) (1/n)

Not at all! I’ve also noticed how Nino is increasingly shoved to the side to make room for Luka, aka a generic “rebellious” white boy who looks like he never showers and his mum dresses him and whose interest in a younger girl is so creepy that he had to be retconned to be her age. And I don’t get it, because Nino has an actual fleshed-out personality considering his lack of screentime:

he’s impulsive and super protective of those he loves, to the point where he jumps into battle repeatedly against a literal supervillain who could crush him into a paper ball without effort if she really wanted to

but he can also be stubborn and drag his heels in, like in ‘Horrificator’ over the kiss scene that Alya didn’t include

he also got akumatised over his impulsiveness because he was so angry for his best friend

and yes, that’s different to Luka getting angry for Marinette in ‘Silencer’ because

he didn’t give a flying damn about the rest of the band, just the girl whose pants he wanted in

he didn’t actually??? Confront XY and Roth directly??? He just stood there trying to get Marinette to leave and then when she was threatened, he just stood there and stewed. Compare that to Nino, who actively went on the attack at Gabriel to try and fight for Adrien and damn the consequences

he’s got varied interests and personality outside of his DJing. He loves filmmaking, he’s goofy (think ‘Puppeteer 2’), he gets flustered easily, he parkours with Alya in their free time, he loves Just Dance...there’s so much more to him than just ‘plays an instrument and makes fun of a pretty girl for stuttering’

his self-worth issues! He didn’t think he was worthy of being a superhero, that he could defend Alya in an arm wrestle... I don’t know what Luka thinks of himself. I don’t even know if he thinks

he’s so selfless and loyal! Remember ‘Zombizou’, where he stayed behind so Alya wouldn’t be a zombie alone even though she wouldn’t have a clue once everything was fixed? Where he went in to bat for Adrien in ‘Bubbler’ even knowing he could be making an enemy out of a powerful and influential man? Where he stuck by Adrien in ‘Jackady’ and made sure he was safe? What has Luka done in comparison? And before people insist that he’s barely had any screentime, they also insist that Nino has no personality because he’s hardly ever on screen too and yet I can pick all of this about Nino, so they can’t have it both ways

And you’re bang-on with characters of colour being shoved aside for white ones. You see it in how Chloé replaces Alya as Marinette’s best friend despite being a literal horrific bully while Alya has been there for Marinette through thick and thin and is the literal reason why Marinette became Ladybug not just once but twice. You see it in the colourism (preferring lighter skin shades and features over darker ones) where Kagami has all but replaced Alya as a love interest for Marinette and sometimes even as her best friend because Alya is Lila’s new bestie. And that’s not to say that Kagaminette ship and friendship are bad! I love love LOVE them to bits and Kagami is one of my favourite characters of all time. But I hardly ever see Alyanette anymore in favour of Kagaminette, and even just Alya and Marinette best friend stuff because Kagami has essentially replaced Alya. And that’s also a common salt thing too; if it’s not Chloé replacing Alya, it’s Kagami.

Don’t get me wrong, Kagami is very much a POC. She’s faced a hell of a lot of undeserved backlash and awful treatment for being the “bitchy ice queen” and even fetishisation (don’t get me started please or I won’t shut up but some of the stuff I’ve seen has made me physically nauseous at the Asian fetishisation). But at the end of the day, I’ve personally seen her treated “better” than Alya...if by “better” you mean fetishised, which is a large part of why I don’t trust 90% of other Adrigaminette and Kagaminette fans. The way she’s treated compared to Alya looks more positive but it’s still fetishism and racism. She’s just not outright bashed as much as Alya because colourism and specifically anti-Black racism, as subconscious as it might sometimes be.

And that racism and colourism (which I most definitely had a point with I swear) is something that ties into the Luka and Nino thing, where people with lighter features are preferred over people with darker features. Luka has 1/100 the personality that Nino does and get he gets 100 times the love that Nino does. He also has people gushing over his appearance and how he’s a “hot bad boy” but I never see people loving Nino for his dark skin, for his brown eyes, for his prominent nose...for anything, really.

(Not to get personal but as a fellow Arab who also has brown eyes and a nose that’s not thin and dainty and is very obviously non-white and something I hated for years, that shit hurts)

Like, if someone doesn’t like Kagami, most of the time she’s just ignored as a character and the author/artist doesn’t touch on her. But if someone doesn’t like Alya? Instead of just having her be friends with other girls instead or just naturally drift apart from Marinette (which uh is still not cool), they go wild on her, turning her into an aggressive bitch who’s obsessed with her scoops and getting Adrien and Marinette together even at the cost of Marinette’s happiness. They take her flaws and wildly exaggerate them to justify hating her (don’t ask about the sheer vitriol I saw in the aftermath of ‘Feast’ over a mistake that Luka would just be coddled for). And while it’s not as prominent, because Alya is at the intersection of being a girl and a POC - especially a Black girl - and cops double the crap, I’ve also seen Nino demonised into a spineless idiot who just stands by and lets things happen instead of...you know, the boy who literally rushed a spider supervillain to save his girlfriend, knowing he could die very easily.

I just want some wholesome Adrino 😔 There’s all this “Luka would show Adrien how to rebel and just gets how he feels” and blah but like...Adrien already knows how to rebel. He just does it in little safe ways because he’s an abused kid, rather than doing what the salters think he should do and turning into a generic copy of Luka without a thought for the consequences that Gabriel can inflict on him because he’s still a kid under his parent’s “care”. And Nino already gets how Adrien feels! He’s Adrien’s best friend! He knows what to say to Adrien and how to be there for him without having to resort to strumming a guitar and telling Adrien how he feels like Luka does to Marinette.

Nino was Adrien’s first friend. Nino’s been there for Adrien through thick and thin, through having an arse of a parent who forces him to be flaky and unreliable with hangouts. Nino is physically affectionate with Adrien without throwing himself all over him like Chloé and Lila do. Nino’s actions as an akuma were to make his best friend happy. And yet people still seem to think that Luka both loves Adrien more and is a better choice for him. Why??? All Luka would do is sit there and play his guitar. Luka is his music and nothing else but Nino...Nino has so much more to him than just his DJing.

I feel like part of it is not wanting to break up DJWiFi, which...okay, valid. That’s one of my favourite ships of all time because they’re so darn happy and cute together and it makes me melt to see two POC happy together. I personally would turn to polyamory because I want massive cuddle piles. But if you don’t want that and you’re deadset on Lukadrien (😬) then just...don’t shove Nino to the side. Continue to include Nino as Adrien’s best friend and give him appropriate screentime and character growth outside of being a cardboard cutout friend. It’s not an either-or thing like so many people seem to think, and platonic friendships are just as important as romantic relationships.

#ask #aotq answers #miraculous ladybug #ml fandom salt #anti luka couffaine #anti lukanette #luka salt #cw racism #I had this drafted all day #trying to make sure the wording was right #anti lukadrien

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

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[ @sasuhinabigflash2020 || Day Thirteen: Show No Fear ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

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“Sasuke...when was the last time you left the house…?”

Looking up from a scroll he’s reading, Sasuke gives his cousin a questioning glance. “...why?”

Arms folding, Shisui perks a brow at him. “Because it seems like the entire time I’ve been back, you’ve been holed up in here like a mouse under three feet of snow. Doesn’t seem much like the Sasuke I knew.”

At that, Sasuke sours a few degrees. “You know damn well I’m not the Sasuke you knew.”

“I don’t mean in regards to growing up and the trauma you faced. I mean in terms of shying from something difficult.”

“...excuse me?”

The elder Uchiha looks him over thoughtfully. “...why are you here, Sasuke?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I mean here. In Konoha. I’ve been playing my fair share of catch-up, but from what I’ve heard, it sounded like you were dead set on razing this place to the ground not too long ago. Then suddenly you changed your mind? Why?”

“Not really something we can discuss with a light chat,” Sasuke counters, eyes dropping back to his reading.

“Because it seems to me,” Shisui goes on, clearly ignoring the cue to drop the matter, “that you’re scared of something.”

There’s a long pause before Sasuke looks back up. “...I’ve heard a lot of stupid things in my time, but that takes the cake, Shisui. What the hell do I have to be scared of?”

“You tell me,” is the simple counter.

“I’m not scared of anything here.”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything beyond hiding away in here?”

“I’m not hiding -!”

“I’ve heard how you’ve been avoiding everyone you knew like some kind of plague. And I know I don’t know how things went with most of them...and those I do know of, not nearly as well as you do,” Shisui offers, holding up a hand at Sasuke’s tensing. “...but it seems pretty obvious to me you don’t want anything to do with them. But my question is...why are you still in Konoha if it seems to be making you so damn miserable?”

“...that’s rich, coming from you. Konoha’s underbelly stole your eye and left you for dead, and you haven’t done a damn thing to change things.”

“I was fifteen when that happened, and things were a lot more unstable than they are now,” Shisui rebukes. “Now I am all for taking out some trash, but not in the ‘burn Konoha to the ground’ kind of way like you suggested in the past. There’s some rotten shit in this village, even after Danzō and Hiruzen have been removed. But there’s also a lot of innocent lives and people just trying to survive. Which I think you’ve come to realize. And I think that’s also why you came back at all: to try and salvage what’s left of the place you remember as a kid. There’s still things in Konoha worth fighting for. But you don’t seem to be doing much of anything about it.”

“I’m -!” Sasuke’s mouth clamps shut, suddenly aware he’s not sure what he wants to say. “...we’ve both got our own shit to sort out. You spent half your life alone, blind, and bearing a hell of a lot of dirty secrets. I spent mine following every wrong path and person willing to take advantage of me. I killed my brother. I let Orochimaru and Obito and Akatsuki use me to try and find what I was looking for in all the wrong places. It’s been, what...a few weeks since the war ended? Sorry if that’s too much time to try and sort out everything that’s happened the past ten years.”

“I’m not saying for you to drop all inhibitions and pretend nothing ever happened,” Shisui retorts, exasperation in his tone. “But the thing is, you’ve got to take that first baby step sometime. The longer you put it off, the harder it’s going to be. I know you have issues with your classmates. Some...a hell of a lot more than others. But isn’t there anyone you can think of to at least make that initial effort with? Anyone at all? And no, neither of us count,” he adds as Sasuke opens his mouth a bit too quickly.

Shifting to a half-hearted glower, Sasuke looks aside. Truthfully, given how much he retreated from others not long after even joining the Academy...he’s given very few of his classmates any thought beyond those who ended up on his team. And for now, they are the last people he has any inclination to connect with. “...I don’t know. I didn’t exactly make many friends growing up.”

“Shocking,” Shisui counters flatly, ignoring his cousin’s scathing look. “...tell you what. Just...go out for the afternoon. You don’t even have to talk to anyone. But gods above Sasuke, you have to experience more of Konoha than this house. You want to save it, right? Change it for the better? Then don’t be such a stranger to it. People are already wary of you given your status of missing nin, no matter your reasoning behind it. The more you hide away and give them the cold shoulder, the harder it’s gonna be to convince them that what you want to do here is for the betterment of the village. They’ve got work to do to re-earn your trust...but so do you. Otherwise you’re gonna come off as an asshole shoving his weight around without really knowing Konoha. You ‘abandoned’ it. So come back. Truly.”

“Tch…” In all reality, it was Konoha that abandoned him, but...he knows Shisui is right. He’s not scared of the villagers, but rather...apprehensive. As his cousin notes, he isn’t on the best of terms with them, nor them with him. He’s already so damn tired, so worn from all he’s gone through. The thought of picking up yet another cause, another battle, has been daunting.

...but he’s not afraid. He’s not about to let Konoha think it scares him.

So, after a moment of silent internal debate, he rolls up his scroll, tying the parchment shut before getting to his feet. “...fine.”

“Atta boy. Show no fear, eh?”

That earns a cool glance, but no verbal retort as he heads for the door and into the large, empty expanse of the clan compound. To his annoyance, the autumn sunlight actually makes him squint.

...maybe he has been cooped up too long.

Mentally preparing himself for the glances, gawking, and glowers, Sasuke follows the forming path between the lone Uchiha household...and the village proper. Thankfully it leads into quiet residential neighborhoods first, and not the noise and bustle of the village belly.

Even so, a few residents look up from their yards and their porches. He considers cheating a bit and using a henge, but...that largely defeats the purpose. Instead, he ignores the eyes on him and just...keeps going, winding his way around the quieter parts of the village.

Hi no Kuni is just on the brink of tumbling from Autumn into Winter, a definite chill in the air. Mulling over the fact that it will be snowing soon, Sasuke almost misses a soft inquiry of his name.

“...Sasuke-kun?”

Stopping a full pace later, he blinks before turning. There’d been a subconscious tightening of his muscles at his name and the suffix, fearing Sakura. But the tone was too soft, too gentle to be her demanding bark for attention. Instead, he sees someone he admittedly almost forgot existed: Hyūga Hinata. One of his classmates from back in the day. But despite her aging since he last even looked her way, he never forgets a face. “...Hyūga,” he offers in reply.

At his acknowledgement, she steps a bit closer. Her outfit is accented by a long coat and a scarf. “...sorry, I…” A pause. “...at first, I...wasn’t sure it was you. I haven’t seen you much since the end of the war.”

You haven’t seen me at all, he wants to counter, but thinks better of it. She’s just trying to be polite in addressing his complete ghosting. “I’ve been staying home a lot.”

“...I see. Going for a walk…?”

“Though I’d get some fresh air.” The meaningless small talk is slowly bringing an itch in the back of his mind, demanding he leave. But this is what Shisui was talking about: dipping his toes back in. And who better than someone he barely remembers, let alone has any reason to detest?

At his reply, she smiles. “It does a person good,” is her agreement. “I was just on my way back from visiting Tenten-chan. She lives out here, in the residential district.”

...he’s not sure what to say to that. “...I see.”

“...I…” Another pause - is she always so hesitant when speaking? “...forgive me if this is a little, um...forward, Sasuke-kun. But aren’t you...cold?”

He blinks. In truth he did completely skip over any preparation for his little outing, too engrossed in Shisui’s nagging. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I have a spare -?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

His blunt, almost callous reply earns a flinch back, clearly not expecting it. And for some reason, Sasuke finds himself immediately regretting it...but unsure how to take it back.

“...o-okay. Um...well, I...guess I’ll leave you to your walk.” Somehow, her voice seems even softer, almost...sad? “Have...have a good afternoon, Sasuke-kun.”

He grimaces as she walks past him. Fix this, idiot! “Hyūga.”

She pauses, glancing back.

For a long moment, jaw clenched, Sasuke battles with himself over what to do. And to her credit, Hinata waits patiently, if not without a fair share of confusion. “...I...wasn’t snapping at you.”

Large, pale eyes blink. “...I understand -”

“No, I…” He sighs, a hand running back through his hair as he thinks. “...I’m still...adjusting. And...I’m not very good at...this.” A hand gestures vaguely, not...really explaining what this is.

But Hinata seems to comprehend, brightening just a hair, turning to face him fully. “...it...must be strange,” she agrees gently. “I know we, um...we never really spoke. And I regret that. Surely being here is difficult for you, given…” She fades out, appearing unsure how much she should say. “...but I just...wanted you to know that you’re welcome here. I can’t speak for...for everyone. And maybe not everyone feels that way. But Konoha is your home, so long as...you choose it to be. And I hope things improve for you. If you need anything, please just let me know. I’d be glad to help.” She offers another smile, this one far warmer than the first.

In spite of himself, Sasuke stares at her for a long moment in genuine surprise. “...thanks,” is all he can muster in reply.

“I hope to see you around more often,” Hinata adds, hands folding at her front. “Don’t let your apprehension hold you back, Sasuke-kun. Everything is changing. And...you should be able to take part in it, too. You helped protect this chance at change, after all.” She then gives a small, polite bow. “Enjoy the rest of your walk.”

Still not sure what to say, he nods in return, watching her go. That was...not what he expected. And in a way, he can’t help but be thankful that was his first encounter: odds are anything else would have been far worse. Mulling it all over, he eventually decides to then cut his adventure short. Not very long, but...well, he wants to keep it from being ruined by anything else. And he can always have another go some other day.

...maybe he’ll have a chance to try that again and not be so...well...that.

Blegh, still not fully caught up, but...at least falling no further behind? :’D This is a bit random and not precisely what I was aiming for when I started, but...I think it turned out all right. I’ve never written Sasuke and Hinata’s very first encounter post-war. Ones soon after, but not the first. Not sure I got it quite how I wanted, but I mean...this is a random event drabble, not the fic itself. So I guess I can forgive it xD One of the key things about SH to me is 1. Sasuke’s lack of interaction with Hinata pre-war, and thus having no qualms about her, and 2. Hinata’s sweet nature and what I’m sure would be understanding once she heard even the barest of details concerning what he went through...let alone everything she ends up knowing (down the road) in this story. You bet your bonnet that as a member of a large Konoha clan, and someone of import in that clan who had her own share of difficulties with both internal and external politics, she’d be one of the first to rally with Sasuke for change and justice. But that’s just my two cents, and at 2am no less, so take them with a grain of salt :P On that note tho it is definitely time for bed lol - thanks so much for reading, and I’ll see you next time!

#sasuhinabigflash2020 #shbf2020 #sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha shisui #a light amongst shadows [ canon verse ]

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baekchelor · 4 years

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ａｓｈｏｒｅ[iii]

pairing: bodevan cash x reader genre: Doctor! AU, Romance, Angst summary: After a fall out with your fianceé, and an opportunity to chase your dreams, you embark into a medical mission trip to Namibia where you run into self-taught doctor Bodevan Cash. Love ensues. word count: 3.8k

❝the sea beckoned to me, and all reality was lost —swept away in the entrancing song of the tide. ❞ ―meredith t. taylor

TWO ｔｗｅｌｖｅｄａｙｓ

◄ ｐｒｅｖ

Bodevan's eyes looked like the morning sky every day after the first one you met them. Per diem, Bo's mood was bright as the sun too, although you did notice the tears confined on his bottom lid once ―when he concluded nothing else could be done and called 20:16 as Moharerwa's time of death. Bo summoned you to the OR after practising the caesarean section, as the doctor responsible for keeping Moharerwa's baby alive. Meanwhile, you were transporting the newborn into the incubator, Moharerwa went into cardiac arrest, and despite all his efforts, Bo couldn't keep her alive.

She did, briefly, meet her son, and the few minutes were enough to announce his name was Bodererwa. She thanked Bo and expressed her gratitude by naming her infant with the first two syllables of Bodevan's name.

Baby Bodererwa wasn't the only patient under your care. You treated an Irish girl who suffered from nausea and developed rashes. Rellian (Bo's younger brother) and you bonded over an uncanny case of seizures, muscle weakness and vision loss, you later diagnosed as Tay Sachs Disease. Tjiruru, a Himba man on his forties, came in with an acute case of Hepatitis C. Later, Tjiruru brought his sister, who two weeks ago, at Henties Bay's clinic, was prescribed with azithromycin for bacterial pneumonia. Bodevan figured out the medicine killed pneumonia's bacteria and caused other bacteria (that usually lives in a symbiotic relationship with the body) to produce toxins AKA Tjiruru's sister illness.

On day eight, you met, for the very first time, Danny Dupont. He was from Australia, with Kiwi heritage, and the reason why Bodevan got himself a kind-of-nurse.

Danny was diagnosed with viral cardiomyopathy, which caused his heart to fail. He came to Namibia because he didn't want to spend the rest of his days trapped in a hospital, waiting for a heart transplant. During a Safari across the Skeleton Coast, he fell in love with Peera, his tour-guide. Peera became Danny's reason to live, so he accepted to spend most of his days laying on a hospital bed if it meant he would win more time to enjoy alongside Peera. So she asked Bodevan to train her as a nurse, and Danny requested Bodevan to treat him. Now Bodevan has an Organ Donation Program running on the Himba village so, in case of any death, he can get a heart for Danny.

Today, Peera will host a "western" Birthday Party for Danny. It will be held at the hospital because Danny can't leave his cot, but Reillian will microwave a cake in a mug for him ―he saw the receipt somewhere on Pinterest―, and Bodevan managed to buy a few candles and balloons.

Also today, you're running late for your rounds. Dr Gandy video called early this morning, not to inform you about old patients, but to have breakfast with you. It was 2am for Ethan, but he ate pancakes and orange juice, the same receipt he asked room service to bring to your cabin, with the bacon crisped just like you like it, and with blueberries marmalade instead of syrup. You talked bout your medical experiences in Namibia, and that he will keep the Hamptons' beach house and Harper will have the pent-house in Soho. Ethan also said he misses you like crazy.

Guilt substituted the sugar in your coffee, souring the moment, and making clear that you wish you could say the same to Ethan. And you did, of course, you did, you lied. Truth is, Danny and his heart transplant, Bodererwa and his chances of survival, and every patient you've treated so far, keep your mind busy to the extent that, when you collide on bed, the only thought on your mind is to finally be able to rest.

Or so you tell yourself. Considering that dreamland and the pillow talk with your subconscious revolve around a particular wonderful being named Bodevan Cash.

"Morning!" all smiles, you greet as you walk into the teepee. You've grown to love the place.

"Morning, Intern!" and you've grown to love the nickname he calls you. Bodevan is teaching you about surgery, and yoga, and Hambi language, and about why the globe's entire population should be Maoists.

The boy is erudite. He was homeschooled, and his parents did a hell of a great job. To the point, Bodevan received college acceptance letters from numerous Ivy League schools. "I've got something to show you. Come here."

Bo hands you a pile of old letters. Right away, you know what they are, and you can't help but stare at each of them with your mouth agape.

"Holy Cow," your wide eyes travel to meet his. "Why didn't you go to any of this? Harvard is the best school for medicine out there."

"I never pictured myself as a Doctor," he says, while you check the charts for today patients. "I just wanted to go to college, be a normal guy. But when mom died, well...life has a funny way of trampling dreams, huh?"

"Yeah, it does," you murmur softly. "Sometimes, I just feel as if life controls me, instead of it being the other way around."

Bo looks at you knowingly, but careful of his own words, "Why do I get the feeling you're talking about your marriage?"

"I love Ethan. I'm just... if you've asked me what I wanted to do at my twenties, I would answer joining Doctors Without Borders, not getting married," you answer quietly, surprised at what has just left your lips. Hearing the inner thought that had been plaguing you for the past months being said out loud unnerved you.

"Was he upset about your trip here?" asks Bodevan.

"No. He encouraged me to do it, he even paid the ticket. I guess only because I was upset about him being married before. I know Ethan. He did this to erase the guilt from his system, to try to indulge me," you tell, fiddling with your white coat.

Bo eyes you in surprise, startled, "I-I didn't know he was married."

"He is married. They'll sign the divorce papers in two days. He never really told me, I just found out because his wife made an appearance at the hospital we both work at."

Bo remains silent for a while.

"I'm sorry. I have no idea why I'm telling you all this," you intervene awkwardly, suddenly feeling ashamed. He probably thought you were an idiot for sticking with a man who blatantly lied to your face. And you were likely making it worse by ranting on about your fiancé whom you swore a thousand times before that you were madly in love with.

But Bodevan just smiles. "No, it's alright. It helps to let things out. But if I were you, I'd tell him how I felt. If you're going to be spending the rest of your life with him…"

You sigh. He is right.

"Forget about it. What about you?" you pipe. "Any significant others?"

"N-no," he is all shy again, averting his blue orbs to the floor, as far from you as possible, and stuttering.

"But I assure you, he has ladies lining up for a shot," Peera quickly meddles, grinning. She's grabbing serum and a needle from the cabinets, probably for Danny.

You raise your brow, teasing, "Oh? Even with that 70's hairstyle?"

Peera gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. "I'm offended! I think it looks quite sexy on him, or so I heard..."

You giggle as the girl wiggles her eyebrows, Bodevan flushing red.

"I was kidding. It does," you confess.

"D-Does what?" asks Bodevan.

"Look sexy."

For a second, you don't quite realize what you'd said. But as Bo smirks, a bell goes off in your head. You feel your cheeks burn and you hastily look away from him, embarrassed. What is wrong with you?

You clear your throat, gaze hiding from Bo, "I should start my rounds."

These past few days were what you could only describe as confusing. And you had a feeling the confusion started when you accidentally told your mentor that his eyes looked like the morning sky.

It didn't help that during one of your night shifts, you dozed off on his shoulder, only to wake up sensing the weight of his head resting on top of yours, his breath on your hair, your lips near his neck.

It didn't help that over your clumsy attempts of getting into crow pose, you noticed how lovely his crooked smile was, and how when he chuckled, his eyes crinkled up at the corners.

And it certainly didn't help that you woke up to skies as clear and blue as Bodevan's eyes.

Nevertheless, you kenned something was seriously wrong when Bodevan touches your hand, and you actually feel sparks fly ―although that's medical impossible and you are a doctor, you should know. Or that when he, for some miracle, looks you in the eyes, your heart somersaults ―another impossible medical matter. Or that when he leans in to whisper some of his intellectual jokes that most of the time, you don't understand, goosebumps wash over your skin.

Something is happening, something is definitely happening, you just refuse to admit it to yourself.

At downfall, Peera and Danny urged you out of duty so you could go back to the cabin and get changed. With pleading brown eyes, Peera asked you to wear something special. She's been saving money for a while ―turns out Bodevan not only built a miracle in the middle of nowhere. In like manner, he helps the Hambi to sell handicrafts and jewellery at a souvenir store―, and the past weekend, Rellian drove her all the way to Henties Bay to buy a beautiful emerald dress. Therefore, you stopped by the hotel boutique and used Ethan's credit card to buy a gown made by a fluttering pink fabric.

When one of the hotel vans dropped you off at Bo's clinic, you're welcomed by the melody Bodevan and Danny are crafting through their guitars. They are singing Guns N' Roses' Patience, and although the one with the good voice is Danny, you can't seem to drag your attention away from Bodevan. He is wearing a suave, intricately patterned mustard jacket, buttoned low so that his chest peeks through. You hate that he looks so good in it.

A wide smile spreads across your features as you cheer for both guys once they've strummed their last chords. And then, the smile is stolen away when a tall, leggy blonde [you've never seen before] is suddenly leaning next to Bo, a flirty smirk on her lips. The girl whispers something to his ear, Bodevan goes beet red but nods anyway. To your annoyance, he follows her to the drink station Peera put together ashore.

Bitting down on the inside of your cheek, you watch Bodevan lean close into her, turning on the charms he ignores he posses. You force yourself to turn away, squeezing yous lids shut to get rid of the disappointment that is dawning your heart.

Why the hell are you getting this affected by him? He is your mentor, your peer. You've known him for a grand total of six days. Most importantly, you are engaged.

A hand carefully resting on your shoulder, pulls you off your thoughts. You turn, only to come upon Peera. "Her name is Elise. She's been trying to get in his pants since he fixed her sprained ankle a week ago."

"She hasn't managed," comments Rellian, handing you a red cup filled by what you presume to be wine. Chardonnay. 80's music blasts from the speakers shove over Bodevan's desk, and Rellian offers you a hand, "Do you want to dance?" His voice is bright and warm, and his enthusiasm washes over you. It is challenging to pint-point him as the angry teenager Bo told you about.

"Absolutely," you take his hand easily. "I should warn you, though, I'm not very good."

"That's fine. We'll take it slow." Rellian's grin is so inviting that you can't be worried about your poor dancing skills, so you happily follow him out to the beach. The song is an upbeat one, which suits his mood.

"It seems you've fully recovered from Bodevan breaking your heart a couple minutes ago," he jokes

"It's a shame he didn't do any damage," you shoot back, obviously kidding. "If I was heartbroken, I wouldn't have to dance with you."

Rellian laughs, "I'm glad you're as funny as everyone says you are. I hear you're my brother's favourite, too." It sounds as if it is common knowledge. "And that your engagement is troublesome―"

"I wouldn't call it troublesome," part of you is sick of people saying that. Another part yearned for it to be different, although you know people speak the truth. It is troublesome. Sighing, you confess, "Ethan lied to me. He is married, about to get divorced but married still. We' have been engaged for over a year, and I just found out about it a month ago."

Rellian stops dancing for a moment, shocked at what he's just heard. He quickly picks back up, studying your expression for a moment. "I didn't realize that was what was going on," he says softly, apologetic. "I mean, you know I want my brother to get the girl, but I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Thanks," you shrug. "I feel stupid more than anything."

Rellian pulls you in a little closer, yet keeping a respectful distance. "Trust me, Intern, any man who passes up the chance to be with you is the stupid one."

"Bo just passed me up..." <<Oh my god. What is wrong with you?>>

"That's how I know," he replies, followed by a thread of giggles. On cue, you glance over Rellian's shoulder and find Bodevan dancing with Elise.

Seven glasses of wine have paved their way through your system, Rellian keeps throwing jokes as you swing your figures to the beat of the music, when you hear his voice beside you, "My lady?" Rellian freezes in the spot, a knowing smirk appearing on his features. Complicit glances are exchanged, and finally, you turn on your heels to find yourself face to face, lip to lip, with Bodevan Cash. "May I have this dance?"

That feeling, that indefinable something, courses through you. As dejected as you'd felt, as embarrassed as you'd been, when Bodevan offers that moment, instead of to Elise, you have to take it. Because the song is slow, and it is Guns N' Roses, and the waves are crashing on the shore...And you're drunk.

"Of course."

Bodevan, clearly drunk as well, entwines your hands together and walks you near the seaside, where the water can dance as well, underneath your feet. He doesn't seem uncomfortable, or as if he fancied to dance with someone else rather than with you. On the contrary, Bodevan holds you so close you can smell his cologne and feel his stubble against the skin of your cheek.

"I was wondering if I was going to get a dance at all," you comment, trying to sound playful. Bodevan succeeds to pull you even closer.

"I-I needed to drink up my courage, so my second-thoughts are over. Now I'm brave enough to enjoy the rest of the night with you." This time you can blame it on the alcohol, but as both always do near each other, the two flush furiously. Sometimes Bodevan's words are like single lines of novels or movies. After dating Ethan for so long, it is weird to flirt with a guy that turns beet red on the cheeks, shy to speak bluntly. Ethan does it without an effort, he always speaks his mind, whether to compliment or with the sole purpose to hurt. They are poles apart. In every way possible. Bodevan didn't go to Dartmouth like Ethan did, Bo acquired his vast knowledge out of countless books. Still and all, he is as good a doctor as Ethan Gandy.

You are kneen on different and too stubborn to accept it, but the racing on your pulse betrays you.

"You look lovely, Intern. Much too beautiful to be on the arm of someone like me."

"Someone like you? This has been perfect, Bo."

"Agreed," he giggles. "Let's do this next year. Danny will have a new heart by then."

You look at him. Next year?

"Would you like that?"

"I won't be here next year, Bo..."

He stops dancing. "Why wouldn't you?"

On a dime, it hits him. Thank God, because you don't really want to say out loud the reason why this won't happen next year, at least not with you present, is that you'll leave in a couple weeks, get married and never come back. Despite the words ain’t articulated aloud, you know Bo has heard them, and you know he espies the water welling up in your eyes and how hard you're trying to hide them.

"Intern."

You gaze down at the wet sand. The water suddenly feels cold.

"Intern, look at me," he says gently. "I'm such a nincompoop. I had just discerned tonight is all we have and I-I misused half of it by dancing with Elise." His voice is hoarse, frustrated. "I thought you felt secure in your standing." What? You are missing something here. Bodevan sighs, not relieved, but hugely nervous. The following words are said as his ocean orbs are settled elsewhere, anywhere, but your face. "Honestly? From the beginning, I've really only looked at you, wanted you." Bodevan manages to meet with your eyes, and his gaze is emotional, and blue and so deep that it overcomes you. So, for a moment, you duck your head. "I'm having a hard time accepting that you will leave... It's fine though, you'd be surprised how infrequently I get what I truly want."

You've treated with patients for years now, you've been trained to tell when they lie, how they're really feeling, find out their buried truths. And you can tell Bodevan is hiding something, some sadness he isn't prepared to share. But he shakes it away and resumes the talking, starting to sway to the music again. "But we have tonight, haven't we?. . ."—Bo looks at your eyes. Unwavering. —"There's only you, and me, and this beach. Tonight."

It takes you a moment to attain the correct rhythm of your breath and heart. You could understand the feeling— that it is unlucky, a kick in the ass from fate. Deep, deep inside you, you feel like that daily as well.

"We do," you whisper into his neck. "We have tonight." His lips are at your ear, kissing your earlobe. The arm resting on his back draws him nearer, and he mimics the action until you're physically closer to each other than you'd ever been.

You jump over a wave, and a chuckle bursts out when you turn around and notice Bodevan chasing you out of the sea. The level of alcohol is higher in your system, and your fancy dress is soaked by saltwater.

Bodevan runs faster, and as you're about to reach the back entrance of the teepee, he reaches for your hand, dragging you against his chest.

Before you can speak, he has you up against the wall, his body covering yours entirely. Bo is breathing heavily, panting, and you're just as breathless, not only because you'd just run like a madwoman. Bodevan's proximity to you and the way you can literally feel his chest rise and fall against you with his unsteady breaths is making your brain melt —even though you know, that is medically impossible too.

“What's wrong—”

He hisses and brings his hand up over your mouth. You halt, your breath stopping as you hear Peera and Danny's grunts and moans and pants.

With a crimson streak across his cheeks, Bodevan shuts his eyes and swears softly, not removing his hand from your mouth. You keep very still, trying to stay calm by breathing in and out through your nose.

"How do we proceed?"

"The hotel van will pick me up soon."

The pants grow fainter, but you're still able to hear Peera moaning Danny's name. You don't want to disturb them, or announce your presence outside, mere meters away from they having sex. This is their special night, and who doesn't enjoy a dose of birthday sex?

Bodevan doesn't let go of you for another 5 minutes. He just stands there like that, his forehead pressed against yours. Only when you are blinded by the lights of the van approaching, he quickly drops his hand.

"Peera and Rellian will take over tomorrow. We both have the day off. So see you M-Monday."

You swallow, "Do you want to come with me? I have wine in my cabin's mini bar—"

"Alright," mutters Bodevan, shaking his head at his very own embarrassment. "I-I would love to."

"Okay."

He smiles.

Breathless. That's how you'll describe your symptoms at this precise period in time. And you had been standing still for the past 15 minutes.

Why is he making you like this?

You catch his eyes widen in surprise as you grab his hand and lead with to the insides of the van. You greet the driver and set off.

After you’ve reached Shipwreck Lodge, and you fidget with the keys to open your bedroom door, you remember Elise and their shared laughter, their noses almost brushing as they talked, and how Bo dismissed the whole thing. Uncertain about the weird feeling stirring in your stomach, you say, "So you really don't like Elise, huh? She must have been upset to see you running away with me like that..."

Bodevan raises his eyebrows, "Oh, it's no problem at all. I don't care about her. A certain other girl caught my eye, you see. And I can't ignore her. Not when she robs my attention with every small detail."

Your heart hammers in your chest. "Oh. Good for you."

Bodevan shakes his head. "Not really. She's engaged."

You almost believe he will talk further, because of the way he glances at you, his eyes sparkling with things unsaid and his lips parted. Or maybe he is about to kiss you...

But he just drags his stare back to his converse, and you grab two cups and pour white wine, hit play on your Guns N’ Roses playlist and invite him to sit down with you at the edge your mattress.

You aren't sure how long you lay there, talking to him. At some point, your eyes start drooping, as are his, and you fall asleep like that beside him, bodies over the undo bed, feet tangled together, and your hair sprawled across his chest. Without even noticing that at some moment during the night, your engagement ring fell from your finger, leaving it empty.

ｎｅｘｔ►

#sorry for taking longer than usual #IT REALLY IS HARD TO WRIT E BO #ashore #ashore:two #George mackay #George mackay x reader #bodevan cash #captain fantastic #1917

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years

Text

Definitely, Maybe [one-shot]

Summary: In which Bucky is set up on a blind date.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: Typical blind date awkwardness, a little insecurity, panic attack, talks of PTSD

Notes: This is for @moonbeambucky‘s 5k challenge! I had Blind Date AU, so here is my spin on this classic trope. Congrats Tara on such a huge milestone and thank you for hosting this wonderful challenge! ♥

P.S. - Can we all agree Bucky’s look in EG was a look? Also this got way longer than I was anticipating but, it be like that sometimes.

In the time that Bucky has known her, he’s gotten to know Natasha pretty well despite her best efforts to close herself off. But Bucky had been trained by the same people she was, so he likes to think of himself as being pretty well-versed in the world of Natasha Romanoff.

So he knows, when she plops herself down on the arm of the couch on his right side, leans over him with that look on her face, that she’s planning something.

He doesn’t look up from his Stark pad as he asks, “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet,” she replies, voice giving absolutely nothing away. But when he glances up at her from under his lashes, there’s a small crease between her eyebrows. He huffs and scrolls down on the pad.

“No, but you forget I know you, Дорогая,” he responds with a twitch of an eyebrow.

Natasha huffs and pulls the Stark pad from his hands, ignoring his little indignant hey.

“Listen up, Мудак,” she begins, holding the pad out of his reach as he finally turns those steely eyes up to her. “Now that I have your attention, get dressed. Shower, shave, the whole shebang.”

“Why? It’s my first day off in weeks!” He knows he sounds like a child. Probably looks like one, too, when he crosses his arms and sinks further into the leather couch.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Because there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Bucky’s anything but stupid, and his eyes narrow dangerously. Anyone else might have cowered, but the Black Widow merely tilts her head expectantly. “I don’t need your help finding a date, Natasha. And I don’t need a date in the first place.”

Her arched eyebrow speaks volumes on just how much she disagrees with that statement. She maintains eye contact with him, looking patient enough to wait for years, and finally, he groans and tips his head back. Her lips twitch in victory and she drops the pad on his lap.

“Get presentable, Barnes. You’re supposed to meet her in an hour.”

Despite his absolute reluctance to go, Bucky panics a little. Regardless of how he feels, it’s always rude to keep someone waiting. Half an hour later, he’s showered and running a straight razor over the accumulated scruff on his jaw. Once he’s finished, his face clear of both fuzz and shaving cream, he runs a hand through his hair.

It could use a cut, he admits and he pulls it back into a low bun to keep it out of his face. Walking into his room in a towel, he rifles through his drawers for something that isn’t holey or sweatpants, settling for a pair of dark jeans with slightly-tattered hems, a dark grey button up, and his worn brown boots. He appraises himself in the mirror, mouth tilted downwards as time winds down before he has to leave.

Nerves swirl deep in his gut, followed quickly by apprehension and insecurity. His shirt hides his arm, as does the nano-tech hand Stark crafted for him, but still, he feels like it’s on display for the entire world to see. A glance at his phone, and he’s summoning the strength to get this over with.

The coffee shop is dotted with a few customers who, despite Bucky’s paranoia, pay no attention to him as he walks in. Internally he scoffs. Is this really how people dated in this century? Ice-blue eyes drifting around the coffee shop, his eyes settle on a woman, a pretty brunette, who appears to be looking for someone. Her eyes find Bucky’s, and he swallows as she drinks him in. The little tug of her bottom lip between his teeth tells him she likes what she sees.

So far, anyways.

Slowly he walks over to her, and she stands gracefully with a pretty smile. He pulls his right hand out of his pocket, flexes his fingers.

“A-are you M-Michele?” he stammers in a rough voice, cheeks warming. The brunette before him blinks and smiles a little.

“I am. Are you James?” Her voice is soft, pretty, and for a second, Bucky has to remember to breathe. He nods and his right hand shoots forward clumsily, nearly knocking her over, but she brushes it off and accepts his hand. “Shall we sit?”

Another shaky nod, and he drops into the chair opposite her. Her hands curl around the coffee mug before her and he’s drawn to the grace with which she lifts it to her mouth.

“So, tell me about yourself, James,” she begins, eyes curious and patient.

Inside, he panics, wishes he had a drink to busy himself with because how the hell can he answer that question? I was a prisoner-of-war-turned-deadly-assassin and I only just got my memories back, how about you? The longer he wars with himself in his head, the more he panics, and the more everything around him is drowned out by the blood in his ears.

Michele is looking on, her pretty face scrunching in worry, and her hand rises from her mug to - oh, she’s reaching for him. For his left hand. The panic rises, his chest constricting, but he completely derails when a waitress shows up to the table and lays a hand on his flesh shoulder.

Jolting backwards, Bucky takes to his feet, hands up in defense. The chair clatters to the floor and the buzzing noise of the cafe comes to a grinding halt. He feels his face flush, both in anxiousness and embarrassment, as all eyes turn to him. He really wants to throw up. Or bolt.

Inside his head, Sam’s voice rings with that VA counselor calming tone. Deep, even breaths. Count five things you can see. With clenched shut eyes he performs the mantra until the panic recedes, and when he finally calms down enough, people have begun to return to their own business. Bucky scrubs a hand over his face and feels his chest lighten as he takes in air. Exhaling shakily, Bucky bends to pick up the chair and lowers slowly back into it.

“I...I’m so sorry,” he begins, eyes flickering up to Michele’s briefly. His stomach plummets as he takes in her utterly frightened expression.

Her face is pale, and with graceless, hurried movements she begins to pack up her belongings.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t going to work,” she throws at him as she slides her tote bag up her arm. She doesn’t look at him as she flees the coffee shop, and Bucky wants to find the deepest hole and die inside it.

Bucky doesn’t think his stomach can sink any lower, and then he realizes that it’s his heart doing the sinking. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth in aggravation with himself. Couldn’t even hold it together for an hour, Barnes.

He feels his mind go dark, his subconscious tugging him down into an endless void of insecurity and self-doubt. Who the hell had he been kidding? He knows he’ll never be that smooth-talking charmer from the 40′s, but now he’s not even sure he can be a functioning member of normal society anymore either.

Hopeless. He feels hopeless, as he drops his head into his hands, that all of the efforts of his friends, both in the States and in Wakanda, have been for naught. Growling quietly, Bucky shoots out of his chair and makes a beeline for the door, throwing it open.

He grunts as someone slams into his chest and bounces off the hard wall of muscle. Instinctively, his hands reach out to grasp the person’s upper arms, keeping whoever it is upright. Wide eyes turn up to him, and he swallows heavily. Jesus, he can’t even walk right anymore.

“I am so sorry,” the woman in his arms says, voice genuine and eyes soft as they take him in. “I really need to watch where I’m going.”

Bucky’s frozen for a few beats, until your hand on his arm, his left one, pulls him back. As if he’s burned he yanks his hands away and shoves them into his pockets.

“It’s, um, it’s fine. My fault.”Always my fault.

He feels like he’s going to puke again as the anxiety runs rampant under his skin. His breathing comes more quickly and more shallow, and his attempts to tamp it down are futile.

“Hey, whoa, are you all right? Hey, come this way.” You tug him out of the way of the door, off to the side where you proceed to talk him down from his second panic attack of the day. “You’re okay. Deep breaths, okay? In... Out... In... You’re fine, you’re safe.”

You’re safe.

It’s these words that clear the fog in Bucky’s head, and his breathing slows until it’s normal. His eyes refocus and he finds you, looking up at him in concern and reassurance. He’s not sure how it happened, but he realizes he’s clutching your hand tightly to his chest. Your thumb is drifting back and forth across his knuckles, and he’s momentarily surprised by how soothing it is.

“There he is.” Your voice falls over him, bringing him completely back down, as if you yourself are a security blanket. The ends of your mouth tilt upwards in a small smile, widening when he seems to deflate and exhales deeply.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. He really wishes he’d worn his hair down.

“No need to apologize. I get it. Um, care to take a walk? Shake it off?” He looks at you from under his lashes, losing himself for a quick second in the patience he sees in your eyes. You’re hesitant, and he realizes you’re giving him the chance to say no.

“Sure. That’d...that’d be nice.” Props for keeping your voice even, Buckaroo.

The gentle smile he’s gifted with makes his heart flutter in his chest. He feels a tug on his hand as you attempt to let him go, but his grip tightens. He’s afraid if he lets go he’ll lose it again. You don’t seem to mind, merely smile again and let your conjoined hands drop between you as you lead him across the street to the small park.

It’s open and not very crowded, and Bucky feels like he can breathe properly again. Silence falls between you, but you don’t seem uncomfortable or awkward in the least.

“How did you, um...” His voice trails off, unsure on how to proceed.

“How did I know?” you finish for him kindly. He nods as he glances over at you. You’re looking straight ahead, but your gaze drops in thought to the pavement under your feet. “My brother. He, um, well, he did a tour in Afghanistan a few years ago. I learned to recognize the signs.”

Of PTSD.

It goes unspoken between you, but he knows that’s what you mean. It doesn’t offend him, not really, because it’s true. His recovery has taken a long time; he’s been out of Wakanda for almost a year now, and yet some days he still feels like he’s staying in place while everything, everyone, else moves forward.

“It takes time, you know?” you tell him, hand tightly clasped in his. “My brother had a lot of setbacks, still does, but it’s normal. It’s human. He felt like a failure a lot of the time because he wasn’t the same person he was when he first deployed, and he couldn’t go back to that person.”

“What’d he do?”

“He became someone in between. He’s still him, mostly, but he’s someone new at the same time. If that makes sense. He still enjoys the things he did before he left but he picked up some new hobbies, likes, and dislikes along the way. It’s all about balance. The trauma doesn’t leave, but you learn to manage it.”

Somehow you’ve managed to sate his mind, your words a salve for the ache in his head and in his chest. He doesn’t even know your name and he’s already attached to you, already wants to hear your voice on repeat for the rest of his life.

It’s when you swing your linked hands idly that Bucky remembers you’re holding his metal one. There’s no way you can’t tell it isn’t flesh you’re gripping, and yet you haven’t said anything about it. He’s grateful.

It’s quiet between you again, and Bucky gets lost in his head a little. This time, he turns your words over in his head.

“I was on a date,” he hears himself say before he can rethink it. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you turn your head in acknowledgment. “A friend convinced me I needed to get out more. It’s not her fault, she’s right. But it wasn’t really any less terrifying. It was...going okay, I guess, until she asked about me, and I had no idea what to say. It all just kind of snowballed from there, and she left. Looked scared shitless, and I guess I can’t blame her. I wasn’t ready, I’m not ready.”

“It’s good that you can admit that,” you reply. “Takes a lot of strength to tell yourself you need to take a step back for the right reasons. Being scared is a valid reason. When my brother came back, he didn’t speak to anyone but me for...probably eight months. I didn’t know what state his mind was in, so I let him come to me. Finally, he comes to me and says he wants to try dating again, wants friends again. Whatever progress you make, it needs to be on your terms. There’s no time limit on something like that. Sure, your friend probably had nothing but the best intentions for you, but at the end of the day, it’s your choice and your choice only.”

Bucky’s speechless for a while, all encompassed in his head with the insight you’ve provided. He knows he’s made progress—slow, but progress nonetheless. He partakes in Game Night at the tower, seeks out conversation with someone other than Steve. Accepted a date he admits he wasn’t totally ready for, yet put himself out there anyways.

Yeah, he’s made progress.

Before he knows it, the two of you have crossed from one end of the park to the other. He stops walking at the exit and turns to you. You smile up at him patiently while he seems to battle with himself over what to say.

“Can I see you again?” he asks timidly. Cheeks coloring, he backtracks. “Not...not as a date...well, not yet. I just mean, fuck.”

You squeeze his hand gently, the metal unyielding, but it resets his brain so he can speak properly.

“You’ve helped me, a lot, just in the short time I’ve known you. More than my friends have, more than my therapists have, and I...”

“Of course you can see me again, Bucky,” you reply, before your eyes go wide as saucers and your face flushes in the prettiest way. He’s taken aback for more than a few moments, too caught up in both the fact that you know who he is and how pretty you are when you blush. “I guess I’m busted then.”

“You know who I am?” he chokes out. Your flush deepens as you glance up at him, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“You kidding? I did an entire research paper on you in high school,” you admit, and it just about tickles Bucky. He lets go of your hand briefly to wiggle his metal fingers.

“And this...this doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?” you counter. “It’s a prosthetic. It’s part of you. But I think that’s a discussion for another day. Sounds like a heavy topic. Here, let me give you my number and you can let me know when you want to meet up again, okay?”

He nods and types your number into his phone. His thumb hovers over the Name field.

“My name’s Y/N, by the way.” Your grin is lopsided and a bit cheeky, and it encourages Bucky’s mouth to twitch with an unbidden smile. You’re charming, he’ll give you that. You begin to take some steps backwards. “I look forward to hearing from you, Bucky.”

He nods once and lifts his hand in awkward wave that you return much more enthusiastically. He doesn’t like that his chest feels a little hollow now that you aren’t next to him, but the smile you throw him over your shoulder kind of makes up for it.

At the tower, Bucky’s spacing out, a small, wistful smile on his face as he enters the common room. Conversation buzzes around him, but he barely pays it any mind.

Until Sam chirps, “What the hell’s got you so happy, Ice Man?”

“You know Steve was frozen too, right?” Bucky shoots back.

“Ooh, old man’s got some life left in him. Okay, but really, what’s got you all up in the clouds?”

“Bucky had a date,” Natasha says with a victorious smirk. Bucky levels her with an even look while the others splutter in shock.

“Wanna tell us about it?” Steve asks once he recovers. Bucky smirks a bit and turns to leave the common room.

“Nah, I don’t think I will,” he says more to himself, but he knows Steve’s super-soldier hearing will pick it up. Once he’s locked away in his room, he pulls out his phone and looks down at his newest contact. “Best non-date ever.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel #bucky barnes fluff #taras5kwritingchallenge

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monchikyun · 4 years

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27. boys will be boys

Connor doesn’t want to go home today, not when he’s sporting yet another black eye on his pallid face. His dad is going to play cops with him by interrogating him until he has no choice but to spill the truth and admit that he’s nothing but a weak coward who can’t fight for himself. Perhaps it’s because the old man has a lot of experience in that field, being an actual lieutenant and all that. Connor tries to sometimes use that fact as a trump card when he wants to look cool and feel like he’s accepted among his peers, not that it’s ever worked. You see, being a twelve-year-old boy is not an easy job. It’s quite demanding to make sure he doesn’t get fired. He gave up on wearing all the right clothes or pretending that he likes sports when in reality all he ever wants to do is to draw. He’d like to repaint the world around him to his liking so that he could feel like it’s a place he belongs to. Like it’s been made just for him and the people he likes.

The sad truth is he doesn’t really have any friends, only people who don’t hurt him, who don’t participate in the frequent bullying he’s been enduring ever since starting the sixth grade. The rascals that take it out on him is a twisted bunch, nothing that significant about them, but there’ this one boy who despite being mean to him, despite inflicting as much pain as the others, gives him a look that could maybe convey a hidden understanding or sympathy, if he stretches his wishful thinking. Because it’s nothing else but that, in the end. The need to have someone on his side, a person who would acknowledge that he’s not being treated fairly. Just one friend to confide in, other than his father who is too busy as is to concern himself with Connor’s childish problems.

Today he was surrounded by three kids who really hated the fact that his drawings look way better than any of theirs. So they made their best effort to seize them and torn them apart like they deserved nothing but condemnation. He couldn’t bear to watch the only thing that meant something to him getting destroyed right before his eyes and so he stupidly tried to defend them, scraping at the little courage at the bottom of his gut. In the end, only one drawing was sparred the ruthless treatment, which couldn’t be said about Connor. He tried to be brave for once, which had to be dutifully punished. Maybe trying isn’t enough, for cowards have a way of staying safely within the boundaries of their fears. Maybe he should change who he is if he wants to survive in this world.

He’s about to turn the last corner before reaching the street on which he lives, but someone shouts his name and he doesn’t feel threatened by it. It’s like someone is glad to catch him here, like the caller’s intentions aren’t the ones that will hurt him.

It’s Gavin, the small feral child with stormy eyes that display that kind of pain Connor recognizes. He watches the boy wave him over, and he thinks he imagines it but there is a grin on Gavin’s face, and that’s the main thing that makes him decide not to run home and hide under a blanket.

His steps are slow, careful, because a part of him warns that this is a ruse, that he’s stupid for falling for it so willingly.

But when he’s so close that he can mark the scar on Gavin’s nose, even the most skeptical part of himself is convinced that he’s not being a victim of a vicious prank, not this time.

“Hey. You lost this.” There is a piece of paper in the boy’s extended hand, one that is full of small scribbles of dogs and the characters he’s invented when the people belonging to the real world let him down.

He really wants to thank him for being so considerate, for not treating him like a punching bag for once, but the words get stuck in his throat, the lump that has formed there preventing them to escape the confines of his mind. There are tears in his eyes ready to embarrass him, and so he pushes them down, needing to keep some of his dignity intact. And the picture is still in Gavin’s hand.

“It’s cool… but a bit weird.” The boy brings the doodle filled paper in front of his face, squinting his eyes to study it with a great concentration.

“Why did you draw me like that when I’ve been treating you like shit?”

Before he gets the chance to argue, Gavin points out one figure that he remembers absent-mindedly scribbling during maths when he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. Looking at it now, the angry boy in the picture really does resembles his favourite bully. It’s a mystery of how he hasn’t noticed that earlier. But then again, he quite enjoys observing Gavin when no one else can note is actions, so it’s not all that shocking that his image would be imprinted onto Connor’s subconsciousness.

He shrugs instead of replying properly, for he’s still a bit afraid to let anyone hear he uncertainty his voice would betray. The slightly crumpled paper is still being observed by Gavin, like he’s trying to find some secret code in the incoherent doodles. It makes him feel a little proud of himself, for the first time in a long while.

“You can keep it if you want.”

It’s said before he can activate his filter, and he finds that he doesn’t regret that sentence. Connor really wants for Gavin to have it, for a reason he can’t nail down.

“Thanks, I guess.”

All at once, he forgets about the scars on his face, about the tension in his stomach. Because Gavin looks like he’s genuinely happy about receiving this not all that outstanding collection of small drawings, despite his efforts to conceal it behind his faked indifference.

“What- what about the others, do they know you’re here?”

Connor doesn’t fear for Gavin’s safety, no, he’s just curious.

“Don’t care. I’m not friends with them anymore.” He watches the paper being tucked in Gavin’s jeans pocket.

“Why?”

“They suck. It was fun hanging out with them, but… they crossed the line. They… they plan on doing some really messed up shit to you, Connor.”

Somehow he isn’t all that disconcerted by that information. It’s just a natural development of events, or that’s what he figures.

“Oh… that’s..”

“We won’t let them, though.”

The fierce green eyes pierce him through, making his heart beat a little faster.

“We?” It’s very strange that Gavin acts like the two of them doing anything together is all but ordinary.

“I have some neat ideas we can use. You afraid of spiders?”

Agreeing to Gavin’s nefarious schemes is one of the easiest decision he’s ever made. Connor never thought he would possess such creativity, but somehow he senses that there is so much more for him to discover about the boy who might just care enough to make a difference in his bleak life.

Maybe it’s just his desperate need for attention or the loneliness that keeps him spacing out during lunch breaks, but he thinks, he wishes that the two of them could become real friends sometimes in the future yet unwritten.

@convinseptember children can be especially mean if you think about it xD but not all of them!

#convinseptember #convin #sixth grade au xD #i like writing about children it's easier somehow #maybe it's because I'm still six inside xD #nothing inappropriate in this story! just the same ol gavin being a redeemable asshole and con a soft misunderstood bean

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saint-of-los-angeles · 5 years

Text

You Could See the Madness In My Eyes

Summery: In which Insomnia gets the best of Nikki, when his subconscious paints him as a monster, and as the one person he has spent his whole life trying not be.

Nightmares are not for the weak.

But he has his Terror Twin in the bed beside him, to sooth the fears that his own mind conjures up.

Pairing: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx

Warnings: listen yall, this one is important THERE IS REFERANCED ABUSE IN THIS. IT IS NOT GRAPHIC BY ANY MEANS, BUT IF DISCUSSIONS OF PAST ABUSE (OR DREAM ABUSE? IDK WHAT TO CALL IT. ABUSE IN A DREAM) UPSETS YOU, THIS IS NOT THE FIC FOR YOU. This is also SLASH. If Tommy/Nikki ain't you're thing, don't read, okay?

Nikki’s eyes shot open. Fuck fuck fuck, was he having a heart attack? His chest was on fire, he was breathing deep, stuttering breaths bordering on hyperventilation, yet it felt like air wasn't making it to his lungs.

It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real.

Nikki had lost track of how many times he sang this mantra to himself when he woke up mid panic attack. Ever since he was a kid, his dreams had been riddled with nightmares- no fuck that. These were more than nightmares. Night terrors? Is that what they called them? Nikki didn’t know, the only thing he knew was they were absolute hell. Maybe science didn’t have a word for them yet. Maybe Nikki’s brain was so fucked up, so unimaginably damaged, it managed to do things that science hadn’t seen before.

Sometimes the nightmares were flashbacks. Those were bad, but those weren’t the worst ones.

The past wasn't what caused Nikki to dread sleep, not anymore. He had the beautiful man laying beside him to thank for that. Tommy had single handedly taken Nikki's past trauma and fear of rejection and pain and curled himself around it, absorbing it into himself and soothing the ache that Nikki had been accustomed to living with all these years.

No, it was the future that scared Nikki. More specifically, his future.

Nikki scared himself more than he'd like to say. The dark thoughts that sometimes swam inside the bassists head swallowed him, made him fear any kind of intimacy or love. He feared if he continued living this way, the thoughts would eat him alive to the very core of his soul until he was nothing but a living corpse, an emotionless body that feeds on the emotions of other people, drawing them in, loving them, only to consume them in the end.

So he consciously spent every waking minute trying to be better, trying desperately to take the light Tommy had given him and using it to disband this horrible state of mind. Making a conscious effort was better than she ever did, right? He wanted to be better than who he was raised by.

Something about that thought made him feel so vulnerable. Nikki didn’t do vulnerable. Vulnerable was a good way to get your heart ripped out and bludgeoned, damaged beyond repair. Before he met Tommy he didn’t even realize the wall he had built between himself and the outside world even existed. The side of the wall that faces the world is bright, outgoing, the life of the party. But the side that only Nikki could see was painted black, crumbling and decaying, terrified of being alone but allowing no one in.

When he met the overexcitable puppy that he now calls his boyfriend, Nikki noticed a change in himself. It was like every time he and Tommy were together, one brick of the wall was removed. Tommy didn’t smash his way through, he carefully dissected it, brick by agonizing brick, as if Nikki himself would crumble if Tommy pushed too hard. Tommy continued removing brick by brick until he had made a Tommy-sized hole and he crawled inside. Tommy was like a beacon of light on that side of the wall, illuminating all the darkness inside Nikki.

Sometimes Nikki thinks Tommy had damn near fixed him, but then things like this happen and Nikki realizes, no. Tommy has healed many of his wounds, but Nikki himself is unfixable.

Nikki wiped furiously at the tears on his hot cheeks that had fallen in his sleep, groaning in frustration when he found them to be replaced as soon as he wiped them away. Why is this happening? Why does this always happen? Why is his brain fucking broken? Why can’t he forget? Just fucking forget and be normal, Nikki, you have so much shit going for you right now, there’s no reason to be such a goddamn pussy.

Nikki fisted the bedsheets between his fingers, taking a deep breath as he tried to get the visions of the dream out of his head. His heart pounded in his ears and his body wanted nothing more than to break down and sob but no. Your pillow is already soaked with tears, there’s a human shaped sweat stain on your sheets, and now you’re gonna sob like a fucking idiot and wake Tommy up and worry him to death? Just fucking get it together, Sixx.

Nikki tried so hard to be strong for so long, but he knew in the back of his mind that eventually he would break down and seek comfort in the only place he could truly find it. It never failed that the bassist would give in and scoot closer to the man sleeping beside him.

Maybe he was selfish in that way.

He would always try not to wake Tommy up, Tommy had wiped his tears this way too many times, and Nikki always felt guilty as hell for interrupting the drummer's sleep when he looked so fucking peaceful.

Before Tommy and Nikki finally confessed their feelings for one another, Nikki was reduced to knocking on Tommy’s hotel door at 4 in the morning, counting down the seconds until the door closed behind the two of them, so he could finally let the tears fall and let the drummer take care of him in a way only he would.

These dreams didn’t come every night. Sometimes he could go weeks or even occasionally months without one, but when they did come they haunted him for hours and days afterwards. Nikki had accepted them as part of himself, and as something the bassist didn’t think he would ever be free of.

Either way, Nikki could only ever remember bits and pieces of each dream,something the bassist was incredibly grateful for. His brain refused to remember the most traumatic parts- the parts that caused Nikki to wake up in drenched sheets with his heart pounding out of his chest, which to Nikki, was pretty fucked up, because the parts he did remember were fucking horrible.

Out of all of the fucked up dreams he's had throughout his years of living, the worst ones were the ones like the one that Nikki had just had, they portrayed Nikki himself as the monster.

Yes, those were the worst ones. Nikki’s greatest fear was becoming the monster that world had tried to shape him into, that the childhood traumas would mold him into the very person he spent his whole life trying so hard not to be.

Nikki spewing out hate filled words that had once been directed towards the bassist himself. Venom laced words, rough hands hitting, shoving, abusing the one person in his life that had told Nikki "I'm never going to leave you" and held up that promise despite how Nikki is fucked up and damaged beyond repair.

That was Nikki's worst nightmare.

As it turned out, Nikki didn't have to give into the selfish need to seek comfort, not today. Maybe it was the shaking of the bed as Nikki tried to swallow his sobs, maybe it was the broken off, strangled noises that escaped Nikki's lips despite his efforts. Maybe it was just that internal radar that seemed to exist inside of both Nikki and Tommy, that always seemed to send out warning signals whenever one needed the other.

That internal radar had told Nikki that Tommy needed him that night, that horrible-turned-wonderful night, that he and Tommy had shared their first kiss. It hadn't been the first time they had shared a bed, not by far, Nikki had his constant insomnia and frightening dreams to thank for that- but it had a different meaning that night.

The next morning, Nikki had smiled at Tommy and told him that their souls had to be connected by a force of energy, an invisible fiber, something. Nikki had known Tommy had needed him, and that same invisible force woke Tommy up, had him roll over in bed, had him smiling at Nikki that damn smile. That same sad smile that Nikki got everytime he woke up from one of these horrific nightmares. That smile that said it wasn't real Nikki, it wasn't real and I'm here now.

Nikki blinked rapidly, trying to clear his tears to see that smile more clearly. It always made the darkness that Nikki had harbored since he was a kid ebb away, slowly giving way the brightness that radiated from Tommy's pearly white sideways grin.

"Wanna talk about it?" Tommy asked, gently placing a soft hand on Nikki's tear stained cheek.

Nikki shook his head, turning his face into the palm and choking out another sob, trying to push his face as close to the hand as he could. It brought him comfort to feel the soft skin of the inside of Tommy's palm, in sharp contrast to the slightly rough calluses the drummer had on each digit- the result of a few hundred too many hours with drumsticks twirling in his talented fingers.

He loved those hands, and the man they belonged to.

Tommy just nodded, sliding his hands from Nikki's cheek to the back of his head to tangle in his hair, pulling the raven haired man into his chest, tucking his head under his chin and holding him there, firmly.

Nikki loved that he never had to explain himself to Tommy. Tommy never pried, never tried to force Nikki to talk, instead he just did all of the talking for Nikki. He'd hold Nikki in his arms, muttering nonsense for as long as it took for Nikki to calm down. He tell Nikki how important he was to him, how this is the kind of love that he had always dreamed of, the kind of love he watched his parents share, how as long as he was in Tommy's arms, he was safe. No one would ever harm him, bring him down, break his heart. Not while Tommy was holding him, he'd shield him from the whole fucking world if he had to.

Sometimes Nikki would finally pull back and talk to Tommy about his struggles, sometimes he would just listen to Tommy talk until he fell asleep to the low rumble of Tommy's voice in his ear.

This was a wonderful alternative to how Nikki used to deal with these nightmares before he felt comfortable enough with the drummer to start coming to him in these low moments. Before Tommy, Nikki would grab the nearest bottle of liquor and just drink and drink until his eyes grew heavy and his mind was far too intoxicated to conjure up the disturbing images Nikki saw behind his eyelids when he closed them.

Before Tommy, liquor was an escape. Now it's less of a way of avoiding problems, more of a fun way to end a concert.

Before Tommy.

Nikki now separated his life experiences into two categories, before Tommy, and after Tommy. The drummer had shown Nikki what it is like to be loved, loved in a way Nikki never believed anyone could ever feel about towards him. His own parents didn't love him, but along came this curly haired boy who looked at Nikki like the sun shone out of his ass, and to Tommy it did.

Nikki didn't want to hurt this beautiful boy.

And so his sobs grew harder, his grip on Tommy's shirt tightened, as he tried to push Tommy's bruised and horrified face out of his mind.

Just fucking leave him, Nikki. Dont be a fucking selfish prick, do the right thing before you drag him down with you and damage him beyond repair. He's too fucking bright for your broken ass, Nikki. Find someone as fucked up and as dark as you so you can make each other miserable and let him be happy.

"I can't hurt you", Nikki choked out against Tommy's chest.

Nikki felt Tommy's hands still in his hair. Tommy sat frozen for just a moment, before pulling back to look at him, but Nikki pushed forward, trying desperately to keep his head in Tommy's chest. Not only was it comforting but this way he didn't have to look at Tommy.

It was a game Nikki's mind seemed to be playing with him. Dont look at Tommy, its gonna hurt to see all that worry and concern that you dont fucking deserve, but dont close you're eyes either. If you do, I'll show you all the fucked up, horrible things that you could do to this man, I'll make you watch him bleed.

"Nikki..."

Nikki could feel the word being spoken more than he could hear it, but he could make out the underlying concern and shock in the younger man's voice as he spoke. Nikki had never spoken to Tommy about these dreams, only about the ones that involved the memories of his shitty childhood, and Nikki wished more than anything he could quit being so selfish and just stop talking.

Tommy shouldn't have to deal with this. It's 4 AM, they have an interview in the morning, and here Tommy was trying to pick up the shattered chunks of Nikki from their shared hotel bed and piece them back together. That wasn't fair.

"Nikki."

This time Tommy's voice was firmer and Nikki knew he was going to have to deal with this. Tommy was absolutely not going to let up now that Nikki let those few words slip past his lips.

Tommy was the most stubborn, determined person Nikki knew, it was one of the things he loved about him so much, but right now he wished that his boyfriend could let this go. If he started talking, it was all going to come spewing out, he wasn't going to be able to stop it, and that was some deep shit for 4 in the fucking morning.

But still, Tommy wasn't going to give up, so Nikki pulled his head from the safety of Tommy's chest and met the drummer's sad, concerned brown orbs.

"What did you dream about, baby?"

Nikki untangled his fingers from Tommy's shirt and reached up to wipe his face, trying to calm himself down. Anything to make those fucking worry lines disappear from Tommy's face, god knows he didn't deserve them.

"Nothing babe- honestly- same old shit." Nikki was a damn good liar to everyone in the world but Tommy, and he could practically feel the drummer refrain from rolling his eyes at him, and it made the slightest smile crack from underneath the mountains of pain.

"What makes you think you're gonna hurt me, Nik?" Tommy questioned, his eyes never leaving Nikki's, as if he could lure the truth right out of him using only his eyes. In reality, he probably could.

Eventually.

But for now, Nikki just shook his head, causing the frown marring Tommy's features to deepen. He could see Tommy's internal struggle. The drummer was a very open person, and he liked to talk shit out, didn't like to keep things buried inside. At the same time however, Tommy knew Nikki, and he knew not to push. He knew when to give Nikki comfort, and when to back off and let the bassist come to him. Nikki was nothing if not complicated, but Tommy had decoded him.

"I'm an asshole, Tom." Nikki groaned out, wanting nothing but to bury his head back into Tommy's chest and pretend like this conversation wasn't about to fucking happen.

"Well, yeah, but so am I dude." Nikki could see a flash of white teeth in the dim moonlight streaming through the hotel window, and it made his heart seize up a little. "We both have our moments, Nik. But so does everyone else in the entire fucking world?"

"I have more than most, T-bone." Nikki was forced to keep his eyes open, to keep looking at Tommy, because every time he closed them he could see Sikki's warped face behind his lids and it made him fucking sick.

"Do I seem the slightest bit unhappy to you, dude? You know I'm fucking soft, but I truly mean it when I say you mean the world to me. You're stuck with me, I'm not going anywhere baby."

Nikki let out a watery laugh, and if that wasn't the fucking issue right there. Nikki could be a fucking prick sometimes, and yeah, Tommy was right, so could the drummer if he was being honest, although Nikki felt that some of that was his own influence rubbing off on the younger man. If worse came to worse, if these dreams become reality and Nikki turned into this monster like the creature he was raised by, would Tommy leave? Or would he try to stay, try to fix Nikki when Nikki wasn't capable of being fixed?

Nikki was afraid to know the answer.

"I know, Tom, I know.. I- I just.. if I ever get real fuckin mean.."

Nikki couldn't even finish that sentence. The Nikki he was now couldn't imagine laying a fucking hand on this gorgeous boy, the thought repulsed him. He couldn't fathom speaking those hate filled words that his mother used to say to him- words like disgusting and freak and faggot whore. Nikki would rather cut his fucking tongue out.

But that's today Nikki. Would future Nikki be the same? That dream played in Nikki's mind over and over, a repeating mantra inside his head, and nope. He has to make sure.

"Baby… I don't understand where this is coming from." Tommy looked so sad and confused, and when he raised his hand to touch Nikki's cheek he could feel the hesitance, as if he were afraid to spook Nikki and send him running back the wall he hid behind in his before Tommy era.

But Nikki was selfish, he needed this right now, he needed Tommy, and as much as his brain in his current, fucked up state of mind wanted to push Tommy away- fucking save yourself Tommy, don't fucking do this, I'll kill everything good inside of you, just fucking go- he just couldnt help it.

Once again, he was pushing his face into Tommy's hand, grabbing his shirt, tangling their legs together.

Fucking pathetic, Nikki.

"Its coming from my dreams Tommy- my fucked up, horrible fucking dreams, and I swear to God, if they ever come true someone needs to just fucking kill me because-" Nikki was choking now, his emotions coming to strangle him- how fucking fitting.

Tommy was tilting Nikki's head up then, and Nikki was watching the concern grow deeper and deeper, and goddamit if he could just quit fucking talking. It was like Nikki was a disease, spewing out infection in the form of his words, and now it was seeping deeper into Tommy, when Tommy should be sleeping. He should be peaceful. Not looking at Nikki with those eyes shining with concern and protectiveness, like he wanted to take Nikki's problems and lock them up in a box and bury the key in the deepest trench he could find.

"What the hell did you dream about..? Nik?"

Nikki's lips were wobbling has he tried to hold it together enough to speak. Did he really want to tell Tommy about this? He didn't want to scare him, to have Tommy living in fear of him. Not only that, but speaking that dream out loud was almost damning, it was something Nikki didn't even want to say out loud, the thought too ugly for him to put out into the universe.

"It was.. I was with you.. and.." was Nikki really about to spill his guts like this at 4 in the fucking morning in some hotel he didnt even know the fucking name of? He was getting irritated at the tears that wouldn't quit falling, but at the same time they were comforting. She never cried, neither did all of her piece of shit fuck buddies that loved to smack Nikki around as a kid. Nikki was happy that he could at least feel emotions.

Nikki would have laughed at the thought of spilling all this to someone this easily- despite the fact he was still struggling- before he met Tommy. It was just one more way that the drummer had changed the world Nikki existed in.

"All the fucking bullshit that Deana has said to me over the years, all this shit that cut me the most, I was fucking screaming it at you, T." Nikki couldn't say the actual words dream Nikki had spewed out, he didn't think his vocal cords would even let him, but Tommy didn't ask him to. He just held Nikki's gaze as he stroked his face, silently encouraging him go on.

"And your- your fucking face." Nikki was choking out these words now and it was pouring out of him, without his consent or control. It was so scary to him how easily Tommy had the ability to just open up the parts of Nikki's mind that he tried to keep closed off from the world. "It was all fucked up, bruises everywhere, black eyes, fingerprints and- you know I don't remember everything in my dreams- thank fucking god, but I know where they came from, T-Bone, and I swear to fucking god, if I ever-"

"Nikki, stop." Tommy didn't look scared, he didn't look like he was about to run away, or check Nikki into the nearest mental institution so this was already going a lot better than Nikki could have hoped for.

Tommy flopped backwards on his back, staring up at the ceiling now, raising an arm and gesturing for Nikki to tuck himself under it, and that was exactly what Nikki did. Not for himself, of course, but when could he ever deny Tommy anything?

"Do you remember that night we first got together?"

Nikki smiled against Tommy's chest, while his fingers slipped under Tommy's shirt to draw patterns on the drummers skin while he listened. Of course he remembered that day, the best day of his life, the day a new era of Nikki's life could finally begin. Nikki didn't trust his voice at the moment, so he just gave a slight nod against Tommy's chest, his hair tickling Tommy's chin with the motion.

"I'm so fucking greatful I remember that day at all, I did so much cocaine and drank so much Jack it's honestly a miracle that I do."

Tommy was rubbing Nikki's back now, and Nikki was surprised to discover that not only had his tears slowed a bit, but he could now close his eyes and listen to Tommy's angelic fucking voice without seeing his own twisted face on the back of his eyelids. Nikki let out a sigh, snuggling as close to Tommy's warmth as he could.

"One thing I remember the most about that night is how fucking terrified I was after my drunk ass kissed you. I was so scared, Nikki, because you were my best friend, you were my perfect match, but you couldn't have loved me, not the way I loved you."

Nikki was unsure of where Tommy was going with this story, but it made his heart swell thinking about that night. Maybe that was the whole point.

"But you took such good care of me that night. I was a fucking mess, covered in puke and broken glass, huddled behind a dumpster, wanting the Earth to just swallow me whole." Nikki could feel Tommy's breath hitch when he let a sigh out, and felt a kiss being pressed the top of his head, feather light, like Nikki was made of glass.

" l remember it all so clearly, somehow. Trying to give me your jacket, kneeling in fucking puke holding me while I fucking sobbed like I don't think I ever have before, taking me home, changing my clothes, kissing away every doubt in my mind. You took care of me with this fucking tenderness, you know? Tenderness that that evil woman who gave birth to you, doesn't possess in her fucking body. You've been through horrible things Nik, things that I wouldn't have fucking survived. Things you never deserved."

Nikki was crying again, he could feel his whole body shaking in Tommy's arms as the drummer tightened his grip on him. These tears were different though. These were tears of gratitude. Thank god he had Tommy to help him through this, Nikki never thought he would have something like this.

"I can't take away your past, Nikki. I would give up everything I own and fucking hold dear to take it away but I can't. All I know is that I'm fucking here, and I know you, Sixx. Better than you know yourself. You won't ever become those people in your past because you're not them. I know your heart, Nikki, you can't fucking hide it from me."

Nikki pulled back from Tommy to look in his eyes, his heart absolutely about to burst with love for the younger man, and when he looked into Tommy's eyes, he could see the same love reflected back at him, even in the dim light that the moon provided them. He could also see the remnants of tears in Tommy's eyes too, a sharp contrast to the smile playing on his perfect pink lips.

Nikki couldn't respond to that, what could he possibly even say? So he just murmured out a string of words that sounded vaguely like 'I love you' and pushed himself forward, finally connecting their lips and finally pulling Nikki completely out of the prison his mind had formed for him when his body woke himself up from the nightmare.

Feeling Tommy's lips lazily move against his own, feeling the slight upturn of the drummer's lips as they kissed, Nikki knew this is where the universe wanted him to be. This man was worth fighting and clawing every demon Nikki had, because he deserved the fucking world, and Nikki was going to give it to him.

"I love you, Nik, and I always will." Tommy's voice sounded as tired as Nikki felt, finally felt, as Nikki made a happy sound in the back of his throat and murmured back a response. He had no idea if his reply made any sense, he was half asleep again already, but the happy chuckle the drummer let out, and the lips pressing against his temple let Nikki know that even if he hadn't replied with real words, Tommy understood. Tommy always understood.

Being with this hyperactive, passionate, beautiful boy made him happy, but more importantly he made him feel human, and that was what Nikki had been searching for all these years. Something to make him feel alive.

And now he has it, and he's sleeping in it's arms tonight.

#motley crue #motley crue fanfic #motley crue fanfiction #tommy lee #nikki sixx #terrorcest

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