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mwcowan · 25 days

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A Whole New Chapter

In past blogs I’ve written every week or two. Here I am nearly 3 months into this current adventure and I finally sit down to write. I was really planning to give this up but I’ve endured a fair amount of grief from some of my readers, and with a hopefully blog-worthy event coming up (road trip!) Georgia has encouraged me to get back with the program.

Lots of catching up to do! But before I even get to the Philippines, I’ll take you back all the way to our previous trip. One day, as I was paying the bills necessary to maintain a home in the mountains of California, I thought about the monthly costs for electricity, propane, water, sewer, home & auto insurance, property taxes, etc. and wondered why we were paying so dearly for a home we only used half the time, and planned to use even less in the future. Georgia and I thought about it and talked and decided to downsize and relocate our base in the US, and spend most of our time over here – maybe 9-10 months a year.

And between May 2023 and our return here in March, that’s just what we did. We first found a small home on a ¾ acre lot, still under construction, in Fernley, Nevada. This promised much lower expenses than Graeagle, plus Nevada has no state income tax. As one example, our homeowner’s insurance is $328 per year, while we paid more than that every month for the house in Graeagle. Everything else has scaled accordingly, and though we’re not particularly in love with Fernley, it gives us what we need when we’re there, and we feel safe just locking up the house and leaving for 5-6 months at a time.

The new US Headquarters in Fernley

The house in Graeagle was put on the market in September, and in one day we had a buyer, with cash, and the deal was done! We stayed in the house until after Georgia’s son Matt was married (in Graeagle) then began the move to Fernley. By November 15 we were Nevada residents.

Max

Although Max was well taken care of while we were gone, by Georgia’s sister Dignah, we were the ones who suffered, missing him terribly. We decided to bring him with us, and leave him here during our short return trips to the US. Our caretakers love dogs so it should work out well.

I asked my nephew, who flies for a major airline, about the best way to fly a dog overseas. “Easy” he said, “he just needs to get registered as a medical service dog then he gets to fly in the cabin, for free.” Lucky for us, he’d done that for one of his own dogs and knew the ropes. Soon enough, Max was a “trained and certified” service dog, able to alert to Georgia’s condition. And no, ADA laws do not allow you to ask what that condition is.

Doesn't he look handsome on his ID card?

That was indeed the easy part, and only guaranteed Max a comfy seat on the plane. The path started with Max’s vet, who researched the health and vaccination requirements both for import to the Philippines and export from the US. Max got to know his vet well over the next few months but, as attested to by the lengthy USDA export form, he was perfectly healthy. A complete medical and vaccination history was provided to the Philippines Bureau of Animal Imports to receive an import clearance, and various US DOT forms had to be completed.

Thus armed with a large stack of paperwork, and a suitcase full of Wubbas and Chuckit balls, we set off for our flights from Reno to SFO, then SFO to Manila. The gate agent in Reno didn’t want to see any of the papers; she told us that it would be handled at SFO before the international flight. Nope, at SFO we just walked onto the plane and settled into our business class seats. Max had it pretty good for sure!

Surely we’ll have to provide paperwork to get Max through the airport in Manila, right? Well, again, no. Through Immigration, baggage claim, and Customs, Max just trotted along beside us. The whole trip and not once were we asked to provide any documentation. Welcome to the Philippines, Max!

The most amazing thing though, was Max’s bladder control. He used an animal relief area outside the Reno terminal before our first flight, wouldn’t go near the stinky in-terminal relief station in SFO, held it through both flights, then through the terminal in Manila, finally taking a potty break outside the terminal. Super-human!

Kawayan Cove

It was nice to get back to our home, after being back in the states for a very busy 10 months. Nice especially as the caretakers had done a good job maintaining both home and gardens. Ready to move in and relax!

After greeting everyone and making some instant friends, Max spotted the swimming pool. It was a hot day (and he soon found out that every day is hot here!) and in he went. A quick lesson on where the steps were so he can get in & out and now swimming is a daily activity. Usually when one of us is there to throw the Chuckit ball, but we’ve seen him go down by himself and sit on the bench with water up to his chest, just cooling off.

Mabini

Last trip, I wrote about our visit to nearby Mabini/Anilao, a famous dive spot in the Philippines. We noted that the second hotel we stayed in was dog-friendly so for Georgia’s birthday this year we decided to go back, taking Max this time. We all enjoyed relaxing, swimming (both pool and beach for Max), getting massages (sorry, not you, Max), and of course the bar and restaurant. We went diving one day and I got in a couple enjoyable dives, spotting lots of fish, octopus, nice corals and crinoids, turtles, and a number of colorful nudies (nudibranchs).

Where's Dad?

New Car

I had a plan for this trip to replace our Innova with a Toyota Fortuner SUV (a model not available in the US but similar to the Toyota Highlander). More luxurious, better ride and handling, but still retaining a lot of utility for hauling people and stuff around. Georgia had a better idea (as she's prone to have), to get a really small car mainly for use in and around town, something that will be easier to drive and park in the crowded markets.

We originally settled on a Toyota Wigo (again, no equivalent in the US), a very compact “city car” with a mighty 1.0L engine. Buying a new car here isn’t like in the US, where you practically have to shake salespeople off your legs. Even a test drive isn’t standard here; we actually had to go to 3 dealerships to get one. OK, one dealer did let us drive a Wigo, but only around the dealership parking lot! In the 3rd dealership though, we noticed a little bit larger mini-SUV called the Raize. About the same height and width as the Wigo, but somewhat longer and with lots more room inside. Comparison drives between the Wigo and Raize convinced us that the Raize’s even mightier 1.2L engine was worthwhile, plus it was more comfortable overall. A deal was struck and we’re now enjoying our new mini-SUV!

Georgia’s mom is also wanting a car for the Philippines, and it turns out that our Innova is exactly what she’s looking for. We’ve made a deal to sell it to her, so now we’re looking for its replacement. I may get my Fortuner after all!

Driver’s Licenses

Regarding the story above, I got to test drive the cars; Georgia didn’t. The salesperson noted that her license had expired the day before, which was her actual birthday. Mine didn't expire until July so I was good to go.

We’d been clued in to the existence of a Land Transportation Office (LTO) branch in a nearby shopping center that only handles driver’s license renewals, which was said to be very efficient compared to dealing with the full-service LTO. The requirements for renewal are basically passing a medical exam and a written test. We went to the medical office, conveniently next door to the LTO, for our exams. After filling out a short medical history, my exam consisted of getting weighed, height measured, and reading one line of inch-high letters on an eye chart. Every other result of the required “exam” was just filled in by the staff. And then, as I was waiting for my exam results to be registered, I was handed a certificate stating that I’d passed the written test with a score of 92%. VERY efficient indeed, considering that I’d never seen a test. I do wonder what questions I got wrong though…

In less than an hour overall, we both walked out with 10-year renewals on of driver’s licenses. I’ll be almost 80 when this one expires, hope I’m around to get it renewed!

And BTW, I’m mad because Georgia outscored me on the written test, getting a 96!

Billiards

Billiards is a popular activity in the Philippines, probably because it’s played indoors in air-conditioned rooms. I’ve played occasionally here with Herve, who has a table, but this year we’ve hooked up with Kawayan Cove neighbors Graham (of English garden fame) and Andy (a New Yorker who lives mostly in Singapore). Also in our group, from neighboring developments, are Jean (Belgian), and Robert (Canadian). We call our informal group the “Sandy Balls Billiards Club” and we play a “tournament” every weekend, each putting 100 Pesos (about $1.75) into a winner-take-all prize pool. I’ve won once, hoping to continue to improve my game.

L-R: Robert, Jean, Graham, me, Herve (Andy not pictured)

Road Trip!

We’ve been talking about a road trip to the far northern reaches of Luzon for some time; we finally decided to do it. And just like our road trip to Baguio and Sagada in 2018, we’re not driving or taking our car, rather hiring both. Reminds me of an old commercial…

Car rental = $40/day

Driver = $20/day

Food and Lodging for Driver = $10/day

Sitting in the back and enjoying the ride = Priceless!

Our itinerary will include La Union, Vigan, Pagudpud, Santa Teresita, Tuguegarao, and Baguio. Stay tuned!

Sunset(s)

We’re still enjoying our sunsets, nearly every evening. Since it’s been almost 3 months I’ll throw in some bonus photos!

From our home:

From Mabini:

All for now, take care everyone!

#photography #travel #philippines #kawayan cove

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crystalninjaphoenix · 1 year

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Impossible Sciences

A JSE Fanfic

Septics Inverted AU

(You guys really liked the last little part I wrote, so I’ve been motivated to write the next part sooner than I planned. :) This AU isn’t going to be back on a regular schedule, just when I get the time. For now, here’s this ^-^)

“Have you ever heard of a company called IRIS?”

Jackie looked up from his computer screen. His boyfriend, Frederick, had walked straight into the bedroom without even saying hi, and asked that bizarre question. “Good to see you too, welcome home,” Jackie said. “And, uh, no. Not off the top of my head. Why?”

Frederick crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. “They’re under investigation.”

“For what?”

“For being suspiciously weird.”

Jackie blinked. “Okay.” He closed out of the game he was playing and opened up his browser, typing ‘iris company’ into the search bar on his homepage. “I’m gonna need more details. Are they, like, magic?”

“We don’t know. Alright, I’ll start from the beginning.” Frederick took a deep breath. “Me and Yvonne got assigned to this new investigation team. This IRIS? They’ve been setting up in the area, and their buildings are giving off strange energies. The Magi think it might be dark magic.”

“Why?” Jackie asked.

“Because we don’t recognize the energy signatures,” Frederick said. “That doesn’t happen. ABIM has some of the best magicians working for them, and the greatest collection of magical knowledge in the country. We don’t not recognize something.”

“Hmm.” Jackie clicked a few times, scanned information, and then said, “Well, according to Wikipedia, IRIS—or Inspiring Research of Impossible Sciences—is an American company that manufactures technology. Founded in 1920, in Kronolle, California. They have a website. And a Twitter. Huh.” He went back to the search results. “Yep, there they are.”

Frederick walked over to the desk where Jackie was sitting and leaned over his shoulder, looking at the monitor. “Look at the website. I want to know what stuff they make.”

Jackie clicked on the link, taking them to a sleek-looking site, monochrome in color except for some pictures and promotions. “Their breakout product looks like these cameras. Watcher. Or, actually, WTCHR.” He slurred the consonants together, pronouncing it as it was written. Frederick chuckled. “They look kind of old-fashioned, actually. But it claims that they’re really good. Look at this.” He circled the promotion for the WTCHR cameras with his mouse. “‘Advanced Motion Detection.’ So, it's for security and stuff.”

“No, I don’t think that’s quite it.” Frederick leaned closer. “It’s not ‘Motion Detection.’ It’s ‘eMotion Detection.’”

That sent a shiver down Jackie’s spine. “Do you think they can really do that?”

“Maybe. There are spells to pick up on others’ emotions, though I understand it can be overwhelming. If you could somehow put that spell into an object that can see, but not feel...like a camera attached to a computer...” Frederick trailed off. “Look, there’s a link up there for their products. Click it.”

Jackie did so. The page was arranged strangely, with a chronological list of all IRIS’s inventions from their founding onward, many of which had stopped being produced decades ago. But no matter what time period they were from, every invention seemed impossible. “Look at this shit,” Jackie muttered. “Infinity-color TV? What does that even mean?”

“I’m more interested in the Retrowave,” Frederick said. “It says it can restore meals to their ‘freshest’ state? I don’t like that, especially with that picture of the chicken dinner.” Said ‘chicken dinner’ was a live chicken on a plate, along with potatoes that had attached roots. “If it really works like that, that would mean they could somehow reverse the flow of time on an object, which should be impossible. Or at the very least, very, very difficult, even for magicians.”

“You think we’d have heard of these.” Jackie shook his head. “Something like that Lite-R device would’ve made construction so easy. It would’ve been all over. We’d be using those here.”

“Something’s definitely fishy with this company.” Frederick leaned back, standing up straight. “I think the ABIM is right to investigate them. Is there anywhere on the page that says where we can contact them?”

“Let’s see.” Jackie started scrolling. “Also, if you’re gonna lean over my shoulder, don’t do it in my blind spot. It freaks me out when you suddenly appear.”

“Ah. Sorry, Jackieboy.” Frederick shifts to Jackie’s right side—the side where his eye wasn’t covered by a patch. “Have I done that before?”

“A couple times. Don’t worry, though, just thought I’d mention it now. Anyway, I don’t see anything like that. Usually websites for an organization have a ‘Contact Us’ link somewhere, but not this time. Or at least a list of locations.” Jackie clicked into the website’s search bar at the top of the page and typed in ‘locations.’ No results came up. He tried again, with ‘contact information,’ ‘staff members,’ and ‘founder,’ but got nothing. “That’s weird.”

“Very weird,” Frederick muttered. “Oh! Didn’t you say they had a Twitter account?”

“Oh yeah! There was a link on the homepage, too, hang on.” Jackie went back to the website’s homepage and quickly found the link to IRIS’s Twitter. One simple click, and they were there. “Do you think it could be helpful?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s better than nothing.” Frederick stepped back. “Do you mind if I get a chair and sit with you while we do this?”

“I never mind when you sit close to me,” Jackie said impulsively. Then he coughed. “I mean, uh—”

Frederick laughed. “I’ll be right back, melon. Then we can focus and start the case together.”

Jackie nodded silently, face growing red. He watched Frederick leave, then, to take his mind off it, he turned his attention back to the computer screen.

Just when he thought things in his life were settling down...

- - - - - - - - - -

“Mr. Brody, have you ever heard of a company called IRIS?”

Chase thought that was an unusual question to ask. Especially in these circumstances. It wasn’t being asked by a friend as part of a casual conversation. He’d never even met the woman with short red hair sitting across from him. His first thought when he saw her in the visitor’s room was that she was a journalist. There were quite a few of those trying to get access to him now that his security level had been relaxed slightly. But a journalist wouldn’t ask a question like that.

“Uh...no,” Chase said slowly. He looked the woman up and down through the sheet of glass separating them. Maybe she was with the police? “Who starts a conversation like that?”

She laughed. “Oh dear. That was a bit blunt, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I just sat down.” He glanced over at the guard standing at attention on her side of the room. It looked like he wasn’t listening, but Chase had no doubt he could hear everything they were saying.

“I’m sorry. I had to get a baseline understanding of your familiarity.” The woman clasped her hands together on the table in front of her. “I am here representing IRIS, you see. We just started setting up in the UK, but you are from America originally, so I thought maybe you knew of us.”

“No, I’ve never heard of you,” Chase said. “What is it? And why are you here?”

“Well, IRIS partially sells consumer technology,” the woman says. “But more relevantly, IRIS is an organization that aims to help individuals such as yourself.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “Do you mean depressed people or murderers?”

The woman laughed again. “You’re very funny, Mr. Brody. In any case, I’m here to let you know about the transfer.”

“Transfer?”

“We’ve made an arrangement with the Mirygale prison system,” the woman continued. “And due to your good behavior, they’re allowing us to take custody of you so you can complete your sentence with us.”

Chase blinked, confused. There was so much wrong with what the woman just said that he needed a second to process it. “Who did you bribe?” he asked.

“That’s a very serious accusation, Mr. Brody.”

“Well this can’t be legal,” Chase added. “You just said IRIS was a company. That’s like, a private thing, not a government thing. So there’s no way you’re doing it through official channels.”

“I assure you, everything has been arranged as it should be,” the woman said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Chase’s eyes flicked over to the guard again, but he hadn’t reacted at all. “Also, what do you even want with me?”

“I just said that we aim to help people like you, Mr. Brody.”

“With what?”

“I’m not here to explain that. I don’t have the authorization, and I could get in serious trouble for sharing information without it.” The woman’s voice softened a little. “You don’t want that, do you?”

Frankly, Chase didn’t really care if she got in trouble. He cared that he was about to be taken away due to a dubiously legal exchange, for a purpose that was totally unknown and probably malicious. “I think I have the right to know,” he said in a low, somewhat threatening voice. He leaned forward onto the table, getting closer to the glass.

That got the guard to straighten to attention. Chase looked at him, then leaned back. Best not to cause trouble right now. Though, maybe if he did, it would stop the exchange with this... this ‘IRIS’ organization.

“You will know sooner rather than later,” the woman reassured him. “Just not until after the transfer. Which will take place on August 11th, at 8:00 am.”

“You’re only giving me two days of warning?” Chase exclaimed.

“That should be ample time to prepare, physically and mentally,” the woman said, standing up. “I have to leave now.”

“Leave?! You’re just going to leave without giving me any damn answers?!”

“Rest assured, Mr. Brody, we’ll see each other again.” The woman gave him one last smile, but there was no sincerity in it. “Thank you for your time.”

And before Chase could protest any more, she left the visitor’s room.

He sat there, staring at the door on the other side of the glass, for a solid couple minutes. Just trying to understand what happened. The conversation, and the mention of the upcoming transfer, was making his skin crawl with unease and fear. None of this was legal. It just couldn’t be. How did this IRIS company make it happen? Sure, Chase knew from experience that the city legal system wasn’t exactly honorable, but this was different. Considering how many people would be involved, as well as how high-profile his case had been, it would take a major cover-up to smooth this over. Was it really worth it, at that point?

The thought crossed his mind to try and stop the transfer. But... how? It wasn’t like he could run away, being in prison and all. He could try to break out, but he had no idea how to go about doing that. And if his efforts were discovered, things could go quite badly.

There was nothing to do about it. Nothing he could do. He just had to wait for those two days to pass, and brace himself for what was coming.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #jackieboy man #chase brody #brigid writes fanfiction #septics inverted au #invertedau

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early20sfailingplenty · 2 years

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Danny Johnson fic ideas! He is super meticulous and follows his victims closely for a long time, he's really into stalking to get to know his victims so! I work at a coffee shop and would love it if he got to know me by being a regular my shop. We laugh and talk and flirt, I only know him by his civillian persona, Jen Olson, but he stalks me outside of work as Danny. Totally becomes obsessed with me and gets off on the dichotomy of being the nice regular customer and the cold hearted killer planning my eventual end. He also loves me being so unaware of his true nature. What seals the deal of hooking his interest in me is my Final Girl tattoo on my right forearm that is underlined with a bloody hunting knife. He wants me to be HIS final girl and sees the potential in me. Just something about his thought process and being so into me. Also maybe some breaking and entering and him being a creep going through my undwear drawer and/or watching me sleep (which I tend to do naked 👀) and taking small mementos. I own a lotta chapstick and mugs, he could probably take one without me noticing, or he takes a well loved one because he WANTS me to notice and get confused. General details, I love the color red, like a candy apple red and plaid. I love leggings and skirts and crop tops at home. I wear glasses. I usually have my hair in a bun at work and in a high pontytail at home when I'm cooking or writing, and down the rest if the time, its brown and falls to about midback. He loves to watch me cook and bake which I do often. Can be as NSFW as you want, sexual and violent is encouraged! I like him DARK! He could do something to me while or not, could just watch, (as if he wouldn't jerk off to me, or on me, while I slept.) But use your discretion! I trust you! Thank you again SO much, I love you dude! ❤ ~ @bisexual-horror-fan

Bex!!! My beloved!!!!😭😭😭💖💖💖First of all, a biiiiiig big happy birthday to YOU!!!!😍😍😍😍😍😍You're amazing, I love you so much, and I hope you have a day as wonderful as you!!!😭🫂💖💖💖 Second, I'm more than a little nervous to be posting this because until you sent this in, I had no idea what DBD was, I didn't know who Danny Johnson was, etc. etc. so I went into all the research I did totally blind (I'd be happy to share this with you once you've read this if you wanna know👀, but obviously while this was in the works I had to keep it all quiet), but I hope it all paid off and that you're able to connect with and enjoy this piece! I went in and I'm really excited for you to read it! It was a challenge to go dark but that's what makes it fun! I'll stop talking now and let you read! MWAH ~

Seek and destroy // Danny Johnson x Final Girl!Bex

TW; stalking, swearing, dramatic irony (my beloved💗), predatory behaviour from Danny, Bex is a fly in the web, obsessive behaviour, you're a to-be murder victim and you don't know it until you do, descriptions of physical violence and gore, Danny's a creep, broken boundaries, theft of possessions, NSFW, somnophilia (kind of), non/dub-con (male masturbation; Danny gets off to you while you're sleeping without you knowing and without your consent), panty sniffing, this is the darkest thing I've ever written and that includes the time I wrote about reader trying to kill themselves by sitting in Vincent's chair (yeah I went IN for you with this💕), NOT X READER!!! but you're welcome to read!!! Contains physical descriptions of Bex, personalised with permission (duh, it's your birthday gift), implicit cannibalism references, kind of meta because this references other horror films and other slashers (it fits in with the Scream origins of Danny, okay?), no dialogue, cum eating (Danny). He's a depraved, filthy bastard and you love him for it.

Word count: 3, 353.

Oh, but you are beautiful.

You don't even know it, do you?

You don't know that he's been watching you for weeks already. You don't know that he's watched you working through the window of your workplace, hidden by the darkness within him but also by the shadows afforded to the tall buildings which smother the skyline. You don't know that he knows your work schedule, he knows the particular routine you carry out to settle into a shift, he knows the routine you have to mentally leave the shift as you clock out. You don't know that you're in very grave danger. You don't know any of his plans, you don't know the game he's playing, you don't know that you don't know that he's a vicious, sadistic murderer who has been plotting your violent murder this entire time.

You don't know.

But Danny knows, and he supposes that it's more fun for him if you stay in the dark, where he wants you. Where you have been for the last month while he has stalked you, learned you, studied you, mapped you out, unravelled you for who you are and put you back together in the way he wants you to be... oh, but your potential is divine... the anticipation of what he's going to do to you, of what he is already doing to you, makes the chase, the hunt, the kill, all of it, even sweeter than it already is.

It was Danny Johnson who stepped into the shadows when you began your shift five hours ago, but it is Jed Olson who enters your coffee shop.

It is the beginning of the end, of your end and he is so excited.

Let the shadow games begin.

---

The first part of the game was silly, light-hearted. There was some kind of sick... joy in knowing something that you didn't. His impulsivity came from knowing that he could get away with what he was doing to you, with you; he was leading you down a slowly unwinding path which was of your own making. A joint effort, though only one party was privy to such information. From the very get go, Danny got off on the way he really was and the way you saw him. The way he wanted you to see him. Danny Johnson was sadistic, patient, a man in control who planned murders weeks in advance. The anticipation always made for a greater pay-off when the end was finally delivered. He was careful at crime scenes, a delicious, sick contrast to the way he was light-hearted towards the actual murder. But Jed Olson, oh... he always greeted you with a wide smile and gave modest responses to the flirtations you met him with. There was something about him which drew you towards him; like a moth to a flame. You would be burned, and it would make or break you, though you didn't know that. Yet. The dichotomy between who he really was and who he played for you kept him on his toes, and it only set to lure you further into the trap.

For every drink he ordered (always and deliberately your favourite, for he enjoyed the smile which lit up your gorgeous face like a Christmas tree as you complimented him on his tastes), for every cup you scrawled 'Jed' on, for every smile you gave him as he entered and left your coffee shop, you both turned further and faster down the dark road, tendrils of the achromatic heart he possessed, a withered and shrivelled thing, wrapping tighter and tighter around your own with every exchange.

You didn't suspect it, you couldn't even begin to guess at the severe mortal danger in which you found yourself.

You didn't know.

And so everything was going according to his carefully calculated, carefully arranged ritualistic sadistic game.

It was a game.

One of shadows, of deceit, of violence, of stalking, of his predation and your vulnerability, of broken boundaries... the game had more rounds than Danny had initially planned, but wasn't that what made it the most fun?

When the game surprised him and practically played itself, he knew it was a good one.

There was so much potential in you and he was eager to keep you caught like a fly in his web of lies so that he could reveal to you your truest, darkest self. You were right there, hidden beneath your surface, hidden underneath the underneath. Or so he told himself to begin with. Months to the day he decided to start following you, getting to know you in a very intense, very one-sided relationship, he started to follow you outside of your workplace. He merged your two realities so seamlessly that if he let his control slip for even a moment, he would lose track of whose routine was whose, whose home was whose. You were well and truly in the belly of the beast, swimming in hydrochloric acid waiting to be digested. You were right there, fresh and ready for the taking. For his taking. Wasn't that what you wanted? To go down in a fight? To stand up and take your life for your own, to take it back from the world which sought only to take and take and take; he knew intimately how exhausted you were after your six day work weeks. He knew well what those nine hour shifts did to you, how early you had to be awake to begin your day. You fought every single day and Danny had yet to figure out if you were aware of how strong you truly were. You were destined to be more than what you already were, he just had to get underneath your surface and dig you out of yourself.

You... You were made to be a final girl... no, no, that wasn't right, hang on... You were made to be his final girl. The tattoo on your right forearm told him everything he needed to know, and a part of him longed to launch over the counter top, seize your arm in his and carve his initials into the tattoo, on the bottom right hand side of the bloody hunting knife which underlined the bold 'final girl'. You wore your potential with pride, he had noted that very first day of visiting you in your coffee shop. Much fun was to be had in breaking you down and making you into who you really were... that dark light inside of you was to be his. You were made to be his, with just a bit more time, a lot more patience and persistence, and you would be dragged to your real self, kicking and screaming and soaked in blood – whether your own or someone else's was entirely up to you. Danny wasn't entirely heartless; you got to have a say in the end result, too. You just didn't get a say in how or when or why you got there.

That honour was Danny's.

One afternoon after another, he followed you home. Always at a safe distance, always three people behind you. It didn't matter if you saw his build way off in the crowd or not; Jed was fresh-faced, no mask, no costume, but Danny was masked as Ghost Face and stuck to the shadows; you had no way of knowing that the two were one and the same. Hell, nine times out of ten, you didn't even register the way the door to your living space took a little bit longer to close than it used to, as Danny darted in just before it could slam shut on you.

Danny stuck to the shadows so well that he became your shadow.

He was the slasher to your final girl.

Despite his patient approach to the way he stalked you and lived your life alongside you, with you totally oblivious all the while, unaware of his true nature, unaware that Danny and Jed were the same person (or even that Danny existed; he covered his tracks so well that you never thought to look for them. Why would you, when they were never visible?), Danny grew bored of just sneaking into your home and watching you cook or write, your hair in a ponytail. It was a different style to how you wore it when you were at work – it was interesting to Danny, because he and Jed were different, too, though his work was wholly different and entirely more sinister than your own. It was a bit of a stretch, the comparison, but he made it all the same as he began to think of ways to allude to you that there was something going on.

The solo round of his sadistic game was over and now... oh, now, it was your turn to play.

Every final girl deserved a chance. The fight wasn't fair, the play was rough and dirty, but he liked it like that, and he knew after all this time that you did, too. So much potential, so much raw energy just waiting to be cultivated, so much fun to be had.

It started with going through your underwear drawer while you were busy cooking in the kitchen. You were only rooms away, totally unaware of the violation of your boundaries... not the first and certainly not the last of many which Danny sought to bestow upon you. Like gifts, if you were. Strange, depraved, unwelcomed gifts. For now. But one day, oh... one day, he would cash in those receipts, and the gift of your life essence would run down his gloved hands, crimson rivulets seeping into the seams of the leather he favoured, staining his skin and leaving a metallic taste on his tongue. He hadn't yet had the pleasure of tasting you, but he would soon.

Some slashers chose to consume their victims in the physical sense. Some chose to eat away at their victims' resolve strand by strand until the victim unravelled at the seams and became a shell of themselves. Some chose to strip away at souls until the spirit broke. Some chose other methods, other means, but they all lead to the same sensation being fulfilled, the same cravings being satiated in a primal, predatory manner: taste. Touch. Possession.

Mine.

Was all Danny was thinking as he watched you get ready for bed. You slept naked, he noticed, and it only made it that much easier for him to get off on what he was putting you through. Whether or not you knew about it now, you would eventually, and that level of trauma would be with you for life. Danny would walk beside you, hidden in your shadows, for the rest of your life, and you had no idea. Yet.

He wanted to introduce himself to you. Slowly, slowly. You were a frog in a pot of water, the temperature turning in small increments from a simmer up to the boil, and it would be too late for you to hop out by the time you realised what was happening to you, what had been happening to you for almost a year by the time he decided to take a few momentos from your bedroom. To get you ready to meet him by planting a seed of suspicion in a mind as sharp, as beautiful, as yours. You were a work of art, but every art piece needs the artists' signature, and he would sign you off with a flick of his wrist, the flash of his blade... with a flourish worthy of the final girl you were.

You owned a lot of chapsticks and a lot of mugs; there was no way you would be able to use them all regularly, but Danny knew that you did. You had your favourites, of course, and you had your favourites, but you did use all your mugs, and all your chapsticks. You had such a big heart, plenty of room in your life, and with your love of horror and fantasy, Danny knew that there was plenty of room in you for him. Not that he would or could ever give you a choice. He had taken that away from you the very first day he had strolled into your coffee shop with a disarming smile as he ordered your favourite hot drink; white hot chocolate with cinnamon steamed in the milk. Very creamy, a little spicy, very sweet... like you.

You are what you consume, isn't that what people say?

The image of you spread out in bed, naked, sleeping and dead to the world, combined with famous quotes completely divorced from their original contexts, had Danny palming himself through his leathers. He got off on what he had been doing to you for all of this time, but never before had he been surrounded by you – your body, your scent, your possessions... the hand not palming himself found the collection of your favourite chapsticks and snagged the one you had used that morning. You would notice it wasn't there, you used it a lot of the time as your default option, and he could tell by the way the label was starting to peel off by the lid that it was a well loved chapstick.

You would notice it missing.

And in time, you would notice him, too.

No final girl ever gets away without first confronting her slasher. It's the ritual, the... the formula of any good horror film.

You stretched in bed, your arms over your head, your duvet crept down from your shoulders to just beneath your breasts, your chest rising and falling with every breath. Their numbers limited. Danny wondered what it would be like to climb atop your slumbering form and wrap his deft fingers around the column of your throat as you slept. Your pulse would thunder against his fingers, your body would jerk and writhe due to the oxygen deprivation, your eyes would be blown wide... or maybe you wouldn't wake. Maybe he would only make sure you never woke up, forever lost in a dream made only for you, dredged up from the oceanic depths of your vivid imagination. He would only get to kill you once, and that scenario wasn't how he wanted to do it.

He swatted the thought away like it was nothing more pesky than a fly as he undid his trousers and pulled himself out. He was rock hard, his head bright red and weeping. For you. For the way your walls would welcome him, for the way your back would arch into him but your hips would pull back into the mattress, the pleasure he would gift to you before his own pleasure somehow too much and yet... not enough.

He needed more.

How would your blood spray as he slashed your throat? Or, perhaps he would mimic your favourite slasher and slash you three times up the back, like claws, like... like a wild animal. He certainly wanted to fuck you like you were animals. He wanted you on all fours, your arse up in the air and your face down in a pillow (so easy would it be to smother you while he pounded into you from behind... you would be too lost in pleasure to notice him pressing you down by the nape of your neck, fingers delved into your brown hair, and you would lose consciousness and simply never wake up again). He wanted you under him, above him, but he mostly wanted you at his side. The final girl, the slasher's undoing. But you two would buck that trend, you would be partners in life and in crime. You had the potential and he wanted to make it his.

He wanted to make you his.

Black underwear in his peripheral vision.

Danny contorted his body and snagged them off the floor. He could just smell you through his mask and your sleepy noises, lost were you to the world, only spurred him on as he pressed the dirty panties to his mask as tightly as he could. He wouldn't take his mask off; it would ruin the ambience, make it only too easy for you to win the game before you had really begun to play if you woke up before he could finish, his hand working to get himself off as he thumbed at the beads of pre-cum gathering at his tip. He was red raw and it reminded him briefly of the candy red colour you favoured. You looked so good in red. One day, Danny would make you wear a crimson cape... again, whether it was your own or someone else's blood would be your own choice. But it would happen.

He had you so close to him and yet, so far, and on his legs did he stagger to your bedside, looking down at you as he continued to masturbate over you. Having you even closer to him only fuelled the speed at which he jerked himself off and as he bent over (somewhat awkwardly, but it was doable) to sniff your hair, one hand wrapped around his cock and the other tightly holding the panties he stole off your floor, you moaned in your sleep. He wondered what, who, you were dreaming about. For all his attempts, he couldn't climb into your head, and it enraged him. Still, in time, he would come to possess your mind, your body, your heart, your soul, he would consume you for all that you were as he took from you all that you could be. Life was full of possibilities and he wanted to take them from you, he would take them from you.

Thoughts of feeling you writhing beneath him as he murdered you tipped him over the edge in his mind from which he clung by his fingertips and he came with barely a sound, thick ropes of cum spilling over his head and dripping onto your abdomen. Your face creased lightly at the impact of wet where there shouldn't be and Danny watched as you settled again. You had no idea of how much danger you were in, of how much danger you had always been in, ever since he had decided that you were to be his next passion project, his next game and victim.

But you were to be the one who didn't get away, the one who met him where he was, the one who became his final girl. His, his, his.

His final girl.

Danny's chest heaved as he removed his mask, broke his own boundary while breaking so many of yours that it would be quicker and easier to list the ones he hadn't broken. By far, it was a shorter list.

He bent down some more and flattened his tongue along your abdomen, scooping up his cum with little fuss. You whimpered, shifted under what he was doing, and the taste of you had his eyes rolling back in his head. Fuck, why hadn't he done this sooner? Life was no fun without risks and Danny had put all of his and some of your own onto the table as he cleaned you up, tucked himself away, put your dirty panties in one of his many pockets, and stole out of your bedroom window as quickly as he had climbed through it.

Saliva glistened on your abdomen, exposed to the cool natural air, but you didn't wake. You slept on, unencumbered by the man who was stealing you from yourself, piece by piece by piece, until you would have nothing left. And then he would take more. And more. And more. Until your life left your eyes, your blood cooled on his blade, your body stilled, and he rejoiced.

But not yet.

Tomorrow, Jed would order coffee, Danny would plan, you would work, and all would go well for one of you.

For the other?

Nothing would ever be the same again.

It remained to be seen who would be who, and wasn't that fun?

Danny thought so.

#danny johnson #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd ghostface #bisexual-horror-fan #bex my beloved

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tamatojam · 3 years

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Okay I need to say this (feel free to disagree, it’s just my opinion!!)

Philza isn’t a bad dad. He’s a misguided one.

Think about it. Wilbur died? A few months ago? Which is not nearly enough time to grieve properly? Phil is probably only at about he anger stage at best.

So imagine your son snapping. You do your best to save him but it’s just to late, and then he begs you to kill him. His blood is on your hands, and you have to live with that.

You have to see his literal ghost. On the daily. And this ghost of your child, your pride and joy, says that he can only remember happy memories. And one of those memories is his death, and the fact that it was you who killed him. And you have to live with that.

And then there’s your youngest son. Who’s always had hope in his eyes and a fire in his heart, who’s always had this amazing ability to fight back and speak up.

And then one day that all changes.

You don’t know what happens, but you watch as your youngest son is banished from a nation he built with his barehands which is also one of the only things left of your dead son.

Something happens to him in that exile, and by the time he makes it to your home he’s subdued and paranoid and afraid.

He’s not who he used to be. But he gets better, maybe. He learns to trust your closest friend (or eldest son, if you wanna include Techno in the family dynamic) again. He gets some of his spark back.

So you send them off to complete a mission. To get the discs back, the one thing that might fully bring back your youngest child.

And then Technoblade comes home alone. Angry and defensive. Heart bleeding from the inside out because he’s a person, god damn it, and why can’t Tommy understand that?

Technoblade tells you that Tommy has once again sided with a government. Not just any government, but the government that exiled him. The government that drove your older son to madness and death.

Tommy has sided with the reason you have blood on your hands in the first place.

Technoblade asks you to destroy the government beyond repair.

And who are you to deny that opportunity?

The way you see it, destroying L’Manburg might be the only way to save Tommy. It already corrupted Wilbur, what’s to keep it from doing the same to your other child? You can’t stand the thought of having any more family blood on your hands.

So you team with two of the most powerful people on the server and you destroy it.

Your youngest child is resigned, but your dead child screams at you. He wails and cries, he tells you to be quiet and shames you for what you’ve done to the nation.

The nation that killed him.

All you can do is apologize, and say that he might understand one day. A few minutes later the ghost talks to you again, completely forgetting the disagreement. He asks you to bring him back to life.

You can do it, you know you can. You’ve been studying the ancient scriptures since the literal day after his death. Nothing, not even the impossibility of resurrection, is going to stop you from saving your child. Not this time.

(In the mean time, you rescue another scared child from emotional ruin, leading him out of a small dark room with writing on the walls. You couldn’t save Wilbur from that. Maybe you can save Ranboo.)

The day of the resurrection comes. You’re forced to relive the worst day of your life, twice. The ghost of your child is scared and hesitant. You put down your weapons and comfort him in a soft voice until he feels like he’s ready for the ritual.

And it doesn’t work. (Your youngest son is watching you fail.) But you won’t stop. (You’ve read the scriptures, you have one last plan.) You can save him. (Please, god, you just want to save him.)

You hunt down one of the rarest items in the world, a Totem. It reeks of death and dark magic, but if it can bring back your son than it will have been worth it.

You pray that it’s worth it. Because you don’t know what you’ll do if you can never hold your son again. You don’t know what you’ll do if one day your youngest son begs for you to kill him.

Those aren’t options you’re willing to let happen. Not on your watch.

Philza’s actions are misguided. He’s in unimaginable amounts of grief, and that sometimes makes it hard for him to understand what others need and want.

Everything he’s done has been to get Wilbur back, keep Tommy from following Wilbur’s path, and help Techno (either his oldest friend or eldest child) feel like something more than a weapon to be used.

He’s gone out of his way to give advice to and care for children that he reasonably shouldn’t feel the need to. (Tubbo, Ranboo, Fundy.)

He’s not perfect. Not by any means. Should he have destroyed L’Manburg? From an outward position, maybe not. But to him? It’s nothing more than a leech that took his children away from him, multiple times over. (Wilbur died three times due to L’Manburg and Tommy died twice.)

All he wants is to never have to hurt anyone he cares about ever again. This want has made him resistant to any ideas other than his own. It’s his guilt to bear and therefore his problem to fix.

Just because his labors are mostly off screen (Researching resurrection, planning L’Manburg’s destruction, etc.) doesn’t mean they aren’t there, or that they don’t have reasoning behind them.

He’s a parent that’s lost his family. Wouldn’t you do horrible things to avenge that? Wouldn’t you burn down the world just to give your children a bit of warmth?

(Again, these are just my thoughts!! I just wanted to explain why I’m a Philza apologist on one place :D you’re welcome to disagree!

This is also just about their characters on the Dream SMP, not the real life Content Creators.)

#dream smp #philza #villain wilbur #wilbur soot #dadza philza #tommy innit #technoblade #sleepy bois inc #character analysis #long post #ghostbur #mcyt #myctblr #i just care him a lot #free my man he didnt do anything wrong #tw death mention

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volkswagonblues · 4 years

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a lil guide to the Fire Nation for the ATLA fic writers out there

(aka. a no means exhaustive primer on east asia by an asian person)

This is a guide for fic writers want to write a canon-era story set in the Fire Nation, or featuring Fire Nation characters. A quick little primer on the tiny details of everyday life that you might not think about, but certainly stuff that would make me, an asian person, wince if I were to encounter it. BRUSHES, not quills. CHOPSTICKS, not forks.

(note #1: this was partly inspired by a chat with @elilim)

(note: #2: I originally intended it for zukka fic writers before realizing that other writers might find it useful. so apologies for a slight Zuko-bias for that reason)

(note #3: this is all stuff i was thinking about when writing firebender’s guide, in case anyone was wondering)

1. CLOTHING

Okay, I think the most straightforward way to describe what everyone’s wearing most of the time is “tunic”. They’re all just...tunics of different colours and varieties. Later when Zuko’s the Fire Lord he wears robes. The show provides a better visual guide than I could, here are a few notes to keep in mind:

a) Japanese people wear their collars LEFT crossed over RIGHT

I don’t think this would come up in writing as much as it would in art, but it’s considered bad luck to do it the wrong way because that’s only for dead people. Let my boy Zuko demonstrate:

b) There are no buttons

This is picky, but Wikipedia says “Functional buttons with buttonholes for fastening or closing clothes appeared first in Germany in the 13th century.[6] They soon became widespread with the rise of snug-fitting garments in 13th- and 14th-century Europe.” I kinda believe it. If you look closely, characters’ clothes are always tied together or wrapped in some way with a belt. If there are fasteners, they’re braided frog closures that go into a little loop, like the qipao-style dresses women wear in Ba Sing Se, or Zuko’s casual prince’s clothes in the topmost image. Anyways, I don’t think Zuko or Azula or the Gaang would technically button or unbutton anything when they’re changing clothes. Clothing is designed to be tied, not buttoned.

[so much more under cut]

c) This isn’t a real rule, but there’s something called koromogae, or the seasonal changing of clothing in Japan.

This is something I learned when I was writing firebender’s guide, and I just liked the fun detail about there being a strict calendar for when to wear something. I liked the idea of someone like Zuko, who actually spent most of his formative years outside of the Fire Nation, coming home and just suffering mutely through the summer heat because upper class etiquette says no changing into cooler clothes until August 15.

From My Asakusa:

And this website:

Generally, people change from thick, heavy, dark-coloured clothes for winter to thin, lighter, bright-coloured clothes for spring and summer. In traditional Japanese culture, particularly in formal settings such as tea ceremony, it is important to acknowledge the changes of seasons—in such circumstances, not only the patterns and colours of the kimono that are worn but also the utensils and furniture that are used are required to change. By changing their clothing, people notice and appreciate the change of seasons. [Japan Foundation]

Here are some visual guides from the official creators for clothes: (notice how it’s pretty much always left over right)

2.FOOD AND EATING

a) Traditional cuisine

It seems like the most common foods in canon are Fire Flakes and meat, to the point where poor Aang had to eat lettuce out of the garbage at some point.

HOWEVER, the Fire Nation seems to basically a big subtropical archipelago, so I would guess that seafood and rice are common. If you want to write about characters eating, a. quick google for “traditional japanese cuisine” would help you come up with a menu really quickly.

Wikipedia says:

The traditional cuisine of Japan, washoku (和食), lit. "Japanese eating" (or kappō (ja:割烹)), is based on rice with miso soup and other dishes; there is an emphasis on seasonal ingredients. Side dishes often consist of fish, pickled vegetables, and vegetables cooked in broth. Seafood is common, often grilled, but also served raw as sashimi or in sushi.

But before we get too serious, at one point the Gaang eats a “smoked sea slug” (Sokka’s Master)

Oh ATLA, never stop being you.

b) Utensils

One thing to keep in mind is chopstick etiquette. Someone like Zuko or Toph, for instance, would have completely internalized all of these.

Another thing is that there are no glasses. Cups and bowls are made of ceramic or clay. Let the Gaang show you:

And another note: characters won’t eat “bread” in the European sense, ie. a baked lump of dough. Steamed buns, yes. Fried pancakes made from batter, yes. Flatbreads, okay I’ll give it a pass. Rice or noodles should be the most common carbs of choice.

3.ETIQUETTE

“In the homeland, we bow to our elders” - angry schoolmistress in The Headband.

Japan Guide has a list of etiquette rules for visiting Japan, which is interesting but not too necessary to read. In general, based on what The Headband tells us, Fire Nation characters would have been raised with a strong nationalist curriculum that values communal contribution over individualist expression. Even someone like Zuko, who openly rebels against that, probably couldn’t help but be affected by it. In general the Fire Nation seems to have an East Asian-ish set of values. It’s patriarchal, all the positions of authority are filled by men; there seems to be a strong emphasis on patriotism; there’s a sense of diffidence and respect towards one’s elders; and finally, there’s an emphasis on “knowing” one’s place in society and fitting into what’s expected of oneself.

I don’t really know how to describe it, but in China and Japan I sometimes feel like there’s rules for everything, and even people born and raised there acknowledge it could be stifling at times. You could go down a rabbit hole researching points of etiquette (for instance, rules on who has to sit where in group dinners...), but to me the most important thing is acknowledging that Fire Nation has a rigid system of etiquette, and also, they’re an imperialist power who’s pretty prejudiced against foreigners. Poor Aang/Kuzon gets called “mannerless colony slob” just for being slow on the bowing action (!!!)

(in firebender’s guide I had a lot of fun imagining the stupid microaggressions Ambassador Sokka has to face in the Fire Nation, so obviously I’m just biased)

4.WRITING AND DESKS

Characters would probably write on paper, with a calligraphy brush. Not quills or pens -- a brush. Technically, old Japanese and Chinese texts should be written top to bottom, right to left, but the show itself doesn’t do this, so I think you’re fine.

One fun thing about traditional calligraphy is that you don’t use bottled ink. You have something called an ink stone, and then you grind your ink yourself by rubbing the ink stone in a special little dish with a bit of water. In my (very few) encounters with this stuff in the calligraphy lessons of my youth, the ink stones can be plain or have beautiful designs on the side. It looks something like this:

ATLA is an East Asian-ish universe, so characters are likely to be kneeling at a table, not sitting. To demonstrate, here’s my boy Sokka doing his famous rainbow at Piandao’s:

and here’s the war chamber meeting when Zuko speaks out against a general’s plans to sacrifice some soldiers:

THERE ARE EXCEPTIONS: This is Zuko’s cute little setup when he’s writing his goodbye letter to Mai. In this case he’s writing in a chair and table. It’s possible that some furniture items, like a sitting desk and a bed in a bedframe (not a bedroll or futon) are special royal palace features. Normally in a private setting we see characters sitting on the ground or on a slightly elevated platform with a low table. Maybe Caldera is just different? Or rich people are just different: the Bei Fongs also have a sit-down dining table + chair setup.

(That little rectangular box is his ink dish!!)

5.A NOTE ON GENERAL CULTURE

It’s worth talking about a few general points of East Asian culture. I can’t claim to speak for ALL of Asia, and I don’t think I should. But I do think ATLA fic writers who want to set something in the Fire Nation should take a few moments to at least skim the wiki pages for filial piety and Nihonjinron (literally, "theories/discussions about the Japanese"). There’s a certain...vibe to...asianness... that I’m not sure I can explain without like, a doctorate degree in sociology.

It’s a bit like gender, I guess. There’s no definitive checklist to what is a woman and what is a man, and we can argue that gender is performative, that it’s a construct, but at the end of the day gender is still (tragically) real in the sense that it still shapes people and affects how we walk and talk and dress and think. Nationality is the same. Obviously, the Fire Nation is a made up place in a made up show, but out of respect to the cultures that inspired it, I do think it’s worth familiarizing yourself with some of these cultures’ codes and values.

Also, ahem, if I can direct you to war crimes in the Japan’s colonial empire. Again, worth remembering that the Fire Nation was an imperalist colonizer too.

I might do a continuation of this post and talk through my more abstract takes about Fire Nation culture - Is Zuko an example of filial piety gone right or filial piety gone wrong? Why I think Zuko’s flashbacks are like, at least part teenage melodrama bullshit (the reason is son preference), how someone like Sokka might be treated once he’s openly Water Tribe in the Fire Nation (probably with racism...), specific aspects of asian homophobia and racism, etc. We’ll see.

This is not a definitive guide. Comments and critique welcome.

If you think there’s a factual mistake, PLEASE hop in my asks and let me know. I also think there’s a huge blind spot in ATLA for South and Southeast Asian representation, so I acknowledge that I can’t speak for all Asians, and there is no such thing as a “pan-asian” identity.

If there’s something else you’re curious about, I’m not a historian or anything, but I like research. Ask me and I’ll try to answer the best I can.

And oh, one last thing, this is how I do research when I wrote firebender’s guide, in case anyone’s interested in learning more (LINK)

#Avatar The Last Airbender #zukka #atla fic #my fic #fire nation

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 3 years

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Note: this was a commission I got from a supporter on ko-fi. I hope that you’ll read it with the same enjoyment I had while writing it. If you want to commission or support me check the pinned post or the hyperlink, you’ll find all the details there. If you have questions, my DM is open 🤗. Also, your comments are always welcomed.

Promt: Wesker forgets about the reader’s birthday.

Pairing: Wesker x F!Reader

Word count: 2K

Type: fluff.

Wesker placed the samples with care on the table, starting his day as usual. He’s been spending his last few years, stuck in the lab researching all over again in order to achieve the wanted results. Since Uroborus is a high importance plan, he’s very meticulous about his schedule, respecting every minute precisely. Not a minute early, not a minute late. The only thing that he tries to put outside his schedule is you because he doesn’t like limiting the time he spends with his sweetheart. He cares so much about you that over the years he sees you as his equal, so he plans to inject you with the progenitor virus, a weaker strand because he can’t risk killing you. Because of this, he wants to do it on a special day, but the many opportunities that arrived didn’t fit in his schedule. The greatest gift he ever received was the power he got after breaking the confines of humanity, so he wants you to experience the same joy. Wesker kept thinking about it but he would get distracted by his work, so his present would always be in the planning stage. He doesn’t want to do it suddenly, he wants to introduce the idea slowly to you because he respects your boundaries.

Once you earned his respect, Wesker can be a very carrying partner, human even. He knows every little detail about his sweetheart, from her birthday to what she last ate. It can seem creepy when you put it like this, but this is nothing more than a lover who deeply cares about his partner and seeks to make her happy. Wesker is not the greatest at showing it though because of his work life. He has little to no time to show his affection. He still shows you that he is there for you, but not as much as he wants, making him more frustrated. Sometimes when he comes home from work he is so tired he barely sees you, let alone talk with you. He either collapses on the couch or bed and falls asleep as you talk with him because he is just too exhausted to carry the conversation. This doesn’t sit right with him because he gives all of his attention and energy to his work and doesn’t have any left for the only person that matters to him, making him wonder if it’s all worth it.

The relationship didn’t have a great start, since you expected Albert to be with you at least 8 hours a day but you’re lucky if you catch him once a week. He’s not the type to express himself and constantly expects others to read his mind, so you two would end up fighting. You have mistaken the lack of presence as rudeness and indifference, basing your reasoning on all the rumors you heard until you realized they were all stupid. Wesker proved to be the contrary, talking so nicely to you and not belittling you at all even if you piss him off. The amount of respect this man offered you even from the beginning is astonishing. He was so transparent with you and with all he does and he had so much patience until you understood. He was just a working man with probably burnout syndrome, so you took the responsibility to take care of him.

His phone buzzed since he started his work. Calls, messages, idiots without brains, as he calls them, needed help doing their job. When he had enough he picked up his phone and started to scroll down through notifications. Some of these people make him curse like a sailor, especially the one who texted him the most. As useful as Excella is in helping with his projects, as annoying she can be. Hundreds of messages and calls, some related to work some not. A particular question caught his attention.

“Do you think y/n would like this?” A picture of a purse was attached. Excella can’t stand you for obvious reasons, but out of respect for Albert, she tries to be friends with you. Still, why would Excella buy something for you out of the blue?

“Is something special today?” He thought.

The horrifying grimace when the realization hit cannot be described. Today is indeed a special day, your birthday. To be honest, he doesn’t care about birthdays. He despises them because they are a reminder of our mortality, but he knows how much you care about such occasions. Every year you got him something even if he insisted not to buy anything for him. Seeing you care and how much you enjoy receiving gifts he changed his mindset. Usually, he would give you something common, just as others would, but then he began to put more effort until there wasn’t anything material in this world to give. That’s how the progenitor virus gift arises in his head. However, he’s been so caught up with his research on Uroborus that he completely forgot to make the preparations. You don’t feel the days pass when you’re stuck in a lab all the time. He puts the phone aside, grabs his coat, and rushes out of the building ignoring the people that are trying to talk with him. If not the virus, he will have to find something common.

He’s not a fan of last minutes gifts but he has no choice. The guilt crushed him further as he remember he hasn’t talked with you all day. The ride to the jewels store felt like ages, even if it was relatively close. Luck was on his side since he found the store open.

None of the jewelry in front of him caught his attention because it wasn’t something he hopes of giving you. He already buried you in gold. You have the finest, unique, and expensive jewels in the world. He wouldn’t have been injected you in a lab of course. He wanted a special place for your rebirth. All of his ideas were put on paper, but probably got lost in the pile of reports. All he wanted was to see you smile on the most important day of your life, perhaps looking at him with the same eyes as his. He wanted to make you feel as you were the center of his universe, his queen, but he failed miserably. Maybe if he had gotten any outstanding results today he wouldn’t be so upset, but it was just another ordinary day. The lady tried talking with him but he was lost in his thoughts. Knowing it’s late and that you’re waiting for him, he bought a pearl necklace and left in hurry. On his way home he tried thinking of what to say, what excuse would be the best but he concluded that all of them were outdated.

Before opening the door, he hid the small package in the inner pocket of his coat. That lady was in hurry to close the store and didn't want to wrap the necklace if gift wrap. Wesker will remember that.

“I’m home!” He shouted once he entered. He may screw up, but he is not a man who runs away from conflict or a man who doesn’t own his mistakes.

“I thought you’d spend the night in your lab.” She said while giving him a peck on his cheek. “You need a vacation dear, you’ll be worn out before your time”

You were so carrying with him, so kind, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t deserve your kindness.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

“About?” You were starting to get worried. He left in hurry this morning and you didn’t hear anything from him all day. Excella told you briefly about him, but she talked more about the purse she bought for you which was more for her taste, not yours. Judging by his face you realized he had something on his mind, but you would never think it was because he forgot about your birthday. You expected him to talk about an outbreak rather than your forgotten birthday. To your surprise, he started apologizing.

“I was so caught up in my work I-“ he considers apologies a waste of time since we could do better things with our mortality and limited time, but for a reason, humans care about these.

“It’s alright my love.” You caress his face as a reassuring sign. “I understand.” You’re not upset at him. He genuinely cares about you and you can’t judge him, not after all the good things he has done for you. And besides, you know he doesn’t fully mean it, but you appreciate that he still does it for the sake of your feelings.

You began to caress his cheeks, to place small kisses all over his face. You see him rarely so you make sure to show him how much you love him as well. You hug him and he instantly hugged you back. After a while, you broke the hug and lead him to the couch so you can talk about each other’s day. He’s thankful you both moved on.

Eventually, you two got more comfortable. You let all your weight fall over his body as his strong arms were wrapped around your torso. His big hands were caressing your back while you found your peace in that small, almost suffocating, clasp. You almost fell asleep when a gentle squeeze woke you.

“I almost forgot.” He said, almost whispering, before handing you your gift. “It’s not what I had planned, but I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.”

Hazily, you took the small box Albert handled to you. It was a normal, jewelry box with the logo of the store on it. Inside there was a beautiful, shiny pearl necklace. Your delicate fingers touched the pearls with care, feeling their gritty texture and small bumps here and there. It weighs heavy in your hands. You fell in love instantly with the accessory. Seeing how happy you are, Albert offered to put it at your neck. Its elegance enhanced your natural beauty. It looks like it was made solely for you, like an extension of your body.

“I bet it was a lot.” You said with a somehow sorrow in your voice. You don’t want Albert to spend heavy money on you, because it’s his presence that you enjoy and value the most.

“Don’t worry about it, I like spending money on you.” And it was true, he loves dressing you in the most expensive clothing to flatter your body. You’re a goddess to him. Not to mention it strokes his ego to know that he’s able to provide such beautiful things to you. “At least this is what I can do.”

“And it’s perfect this way.” You can see him relax a little.

“I’ll make it up to you, I just need some time.” Time, mortality, death. Once again he was reminded of his plan that was supposed to fix humanity's greatest flaw, and his expression suddenly changed. That didn’t get past Y/N’s attention.

“Albert sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, some problems I need to solve.”

“Are they urgent?”

“Yes, very.”

“I’m sure they can wait until tomorrow.”

He scanned your body carefully. You weren’t getting any younger. Time left its mark on you. Not in an unpleasant way, but still noticeable.

“There something I need to tell you.” He said while sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you how you admire your new necklace. In the lights of the vanity mirror the pearls shine brighter, being more appealing than before making it impossible to take your eyes off them.

“What is it?” You said while gazing at your own reflection.

He choose his words carefully, but no matter how he put them, it could scare you. It’s not the time or the place. He doesn’t want to ruin your happiness. His actual surprise might not sit well with you, but it’s not your choice after all. If he considers it the best option for you he will do it regardless of your opinion. Still, this day came out better than he expected.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Tags: @xx-sectumsempra-xx @residentzero2028 @heisentitties (dm if you wanna be in the tag list)

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker fluff #commission #albert wesker x fem!reader

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

Note

Hello. I am very interested with WinterIron. Enemies to Lovers, abo with omega Tony, accidental bonding, mutual pining, a lot and a loooootttttt of kissing and touching (with "I do it because of bond" excuses).

Please feel free to cross anything you feel uncomfortable with.

Hi there! I wasn't able to get everything in there, but hopefully there's enough? I loved this prompt so much, it was a fun verse to write in 💙

CW for omegas having few rights in this verse and for creepy Aldrich Killian

As always, everything I write can also be found on ao3

mate bond: [meyt bond] noun

1. A mental and physical connection that ties two people together following a mating bite

2. A pair bond between spouses

[An excerpt from The Other Half of My Soul: An Exploration into Unconventional Bonding Methods by Anderson-Lopez et al, 1972]

“While rare, it is important to note the existence of mate bonds in individuals who have not exchanged bites. These instances have notably occurred during times of high stress for one or both individuals, and are sparked by an inciting incident of some kind, usually a traumatic event. While these types of mate bonds, dubbed soulmate bonds by the media, frequently occur between individuals who are highly compatible, it is not necessary. Curiously, however, it does seem necessary that the individuals are scent matched for a soulmate bond, even though compatible second genders are not a requirement.”

Bucky maintained that it was an accident.

Tony had been meant for Steve, after all. That was the arrangement Howard Stark had decided on with Fury. Bucky had only come along as moral support for the first meeting between Steve and Tony. He wasn’t even supposed to meet Tony first, but the crowded ballroom had been too much for him, so he’d ducked out into the hallway, only to come across two alphas menacing an omega. He supposed that some of Steve’s fiery nature must have rubbed off on him, as he normally would have never taken on two alphas by himself, not when he was down an arm. But he’d taken one look at that omega, pretty brown eyes wide with distress, and leapt into action. It hadn’t been until both alphas had been sent off running with their tails between their legs that he’d realized the omega he’d rescued was Tony Stark, Steve’s arranged mate.

Unfortunately (fortunately? No, definitely unfortunately), the arranged match would never come to fruition as Bucky and Tony had looked at each other and immediately bonded without a shared word or bite between them.

Howard was furious, Fury less so—Bucky was still a SHIELD agent, even if he wasn’t the great Captain America, so the planned union between SHIELD and SI would still happen—but both Bucky and Tony insisted that it hadn’t been done on purpose. And, as neither had a mating bite but could still feel the other at the back of their mind, it was hard to disprove the existence of what had once been called a soulmate bond, though was now called the rather unglamorous name of Mate Bond Subtype C, which Bucky thought sounded like an illness.

The media thought it was the most romantic thing they’d ever heard. Steve, who was slowly courting another alpha from SHIELD, thought it was a relief. Bucky, who didn’t want an omega while he was still recovering from the surgery on his arm, thought it was a nightmare at first.

He didn’t know what Tony thought.

They might have shared a bond between them, but Tony had quickly figured out how to shield his feelings. It had taken Bucky a little bit more practice but he too had worked out how to keep his thoughts and feelings private, which was good, because he doubted Tony would like to know what he was thinking.

They’d been bonded for three months and, while Bucky had moved into Tony’s penthouse apartment, they didn’t share a room, let alone a bed. He still took long missions that took him away for weeks at a time. Tony spent more time at SI’s research labs than he did at home. Bucky hadn’t shared Tony’s heat, nor had Tony shared Bucky’s rut, though neither of them had invited anyone else into their beds. And other than their planned public outings where they had to touch to put on the façade of a happily bonded couple, they didn’t hold hands or kiss or lean into each other, giggling.

The problem was—Bucky wanted all of that. He wanted to sleep curled around Tony. He wanted the two of them to be home long enough to share more than one dinner together at a time. He desperately wanted to share cycles, but even more badly than that, he wanted to touch Tony as often as the omega could stand it. Because the problem was also this—sometime in the course of three months, he’d fallen in love.

Tony slid his hand into Bucky’s as they stood in the elevator. “It’s just a quick walk around the ballroom, say hi to a couple investors, and then we can leave,” he said reassuringly, giving Bucky a quick smile. “I know how much you hate these shindigs.”

This was true, Bucky did hate them, but he knew that Tony hated them just as much, though he hid it much better than Bucky did. “Don’t worry,” he replied, squeezing Tony’s hand quickly. “I’ll stick to you like glue.”

“Well, maybe not like glue. Like Velcro, maybe. Howard’s got a couple investors that I know he wants me to meet and that I know you’ll hate so you’re more than welcome to go off and find people more to your liking then. I heard Steve’s coming.”

Bucky had to fight to hide a frown. He knew Tony didn’t mean any harm by the comment, but he hated how Tony thought he wouldn’t want to be by his side even when meeting people he didn’t like. So what if he didn’t like them? He’d still prefer to be giving Tony silent support instead of wandering off and leaving him alone for that long.

Before he can respond, the elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors opening on a soft ding to reveal the glittering ballroom Maria Stark had chosen to host the Annual Stark Foundation’s Shareholders’ Ball, meant to honor those who had given so generously to charity over the last year. The room was decorated in delicate ice-like structures, calling to mind the snow blanketing the city outside, though it wasn’t nearly as cold inside. Golden chandeliers reflected off the dark windows, giving the impression of a never-ending stretch of light. It was all so very glitzy and glamorous. Bucky hated it. It was an obscene display of wealth, meant solely to remind everyone that the Starks were richer than anyone else in the room.

“One hour, Bucky Bear,” Tony murmured like he could hear Bucky’s thoughts. “And then we can go get burgers.”

He dropped Bucky’s hand in favor of sliding his own into the crook of Bucky’s elbow, gently steering him towards the first group of investors. Like every other rich person he’d met since bonding with Tony, they were simultaneously smug of their own “generosity” (mere pennies compared to their bank accounts) and jealous, both of Tony’s wealth and Bucky’s luck in landing a Stark (not his words). The smugness was blatant, the jealousy only slightly hidden in the way their eyes lingered as Bucky took the opportunity to brush his lips across Tony’s cheek, quietly telling him he was going to go get them drinks.

“I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me,” he promised, understanding the minute tightness at the corners of Tony’s eyes.

Tony smiled and nodded, attention already turning back to the investors—or, more likely, to his latest project, however much it might have looked like he was paying attention to Hugh Worthington IV. Bucky slipped through the crowd to the bar. Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded yet and he was able to order a whiskey for himself and a scotch for Tony, who always refused to drink the fruity drinks he actually preferred at these parties, almost immediately. As he waited, he turned back to the crowd, idly scanning it. Steve wasn’t there yet, if it was indeed true that Fury had managed to stuff him into a suit and send him off to schmooze. His eyes sought out Tony, who was laughing as he excused himself from the group Bucky had left him with, moving on to another small throng of people.

He smiled despite himself. Tony was lovely like this, despite his discomfort. Bucky got to see him laugh so rarely at home that he cherished every moment he got to see it while they were out in public.

“Sir, your drinks,” the bartender prompted. He thanked them absently and left a tip on the bar before making his way back across the ballroom to Tony’s side.

Tony wasn’t laughing now. In fact, if his pursed lips were anything to go off of, he was pretty furious, and Bucky wondered what had upset him between him leaving the bar and him returning to Tony’s side.

“Doll,” he said, letting Tony know he was there. Tony turned and took his drink, thanking him with a quick kiss that Bucky desperately wanted to turn into a longer, sweeter one.

“Honey, Senator Stern here was just telling me about an omega’s rights bill he filibustered so it wouldn’t pass,” Tony said, irritation bleeding into his tone.

“Now isn’t that interesting,” Bucky drawled, irritated himself. The bill in question was a law that he knew Tony had backed, as it would have put a stop to the arranged bondings the wealthy were so fond of. They’d both known it would be a longshot to pass, but they’d remained hopeful. “That’s the one that Stevie supported isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tony agreed. “My alpha here—” He patted Bucky’s chest. “—is close friends with Captain Rogers. They grew up together, you know. Steve spends nearly every Saturday evening with us. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear about this bill failing to pass. Isn’t he supposed to be putting in an appearance at the Senate hearing next week? It would be such a shame if he couldn’t make it.”

Tony’s statement was only partially true. Bucky mostly saw Steve at SHIELD, as Steve, despite being always welcome at their apartment, didn’t want to be reminded of how close he’d come to an arranged bonding of his own. But Steve, who had been an omega before receiving the serum, had always been an outspoken supporter of omega’s rights, and now that he was an alpha, and Captain America to boot, he used every bit of that privilege to push as much pro-omega legislature through Congress as he could. He was a thorn in conservative senators’ sides, like Stern, and it was a minor miracle that they’d gotten him to appear in front of Congress to talk positively about a Republican bill supporting an expansion of benefits for veterans, when he normally disagreed with anything Republican just on principle. Steve’s support would go a long way toward getting that bill passed.

Tony’s veiled threat was effective. Stern, one of the authors of the bill, blanched, making Bucky smile. He loved watching Tony do his thing. There was really nothing better than Tony putting bullies like Stern back in their place.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Stern stammered out before hurrying away.

As soon as he was gone, Tony drooped, leaning back against Bucky. It was nice, being able to lend his support to his omega, but Tony was standing up straight again after only a moment, the façade falling back over him.

“I really hate that guy,” Tony said softly. He looked up at Bucky. “Sorry about using your friendship with Steve like that. I was just so angry. Saw red for a second there.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Bucky said. Impulsively, he reached out to clasp Tony’s shoulder, running his thumb soothingly over the soft skin just above his shirt collar. “You guys got a bad lot in life. You do what you gotta do to make it right.”

Tony hummed. “I really wanted that bill to pass. It wasn’t right, what Howard and Fury wanted me to do. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through that.”

“Sorry,” Bucky offered up. It was a lame apology, but he didn’t know what else he could say to make it better. He knew very well that if he and Tony hadn’t bonded that night, Steve would be Tony’s alpha.

To his surprise, Tony smiled and nudged his shoulder, teasing, “I don’t know, you’re not so bad.”

Bucky sputtered, nearly choking on his whiskey.

“Oh, look, Steve’s just arrived,” Tony said airily, like he hadn’t noticed the effect his words were having on Bucky. “Let’s go say hi.”

Talking to Steve at these events was always awkward. Tony and Steve were both aware that neither of them wanted anything to do with each other as mates, which made having to see each other a study in unspoken tension. He didn’t think it was that either of them had a problem with the other, and he suspected that they could even manage to be friends eventually, but it was that knowledge that they’d nearly been forced to mate that made things so tense between them. Still, he appreciated that Tony was willing to put up with it so that Bucky could see his best friend. It was the sort of small kindness that Tony unthinkingly did that had made Bucky fall in love with him so easily.

Tonight was no different. Tony and Steve exchanged no more than a few awkward words before Tony excused himself to go meet with Emma Frost. He didn’t bother kissing Bucky this time, as Steve was one of the few people they didn’t have to pretend with and it didn’t seem like anyone was watching them at the moment. It would have been different if they’d met up a few months ago. There’d been more than a few people who’d somehow got it into their heads that Steve and Tony’s proposed bond was a love match instead of arranged, and they’d all watched eagerly to see how Steve, Tony, and Bucky interacted in those days following Bucky and Tony’s bonding, clearly wondering if Steve was going to pick a fight. They’d been sorely disappointed, of course; Steve and Bucky didn’t fight over anything, let alone an omega that Steve hadn’t wanted.

“So Fury roped you into the dog and pony show, huh,” Bucky asked, eyeing the stiff collar of Steve’s shirt. He’d be willing to bet that it was brand new. Steve was much more at home in a pair of khakis and a flannel shirt than he was in a tuxedo.

“Senator Brandt actually,” Steve said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “He thinks it’s good for me to make appearances and drum up support for SHIELD.”

“Sucks.” There was a niggling worry growing at the back of his mind, unrelated to Steve’s complaints about the brass, but Bucky didn’t know what it was. He glanced around the room, but was unable to spot anything amiss. He tried to put it out of his mind by asking, “How’s working with the Commandos?” He couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Bucky had been moved out of the Commandos unit a few weeks before meeting Tony, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like being on Strike Team Delta, but he was still irritated that he hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

“Not the same without you,” Steve said, grimacing at him like he knew what was going through Bucky’s mind.

They continued talking about SHIELD as they slowly circulated the room and all the while, that worry was growing stronger, slowly morphing into fear, but it wasn’t until he happened to catch a glimpse of Tony standing in the corner and looking tense and unhappy that he realized they weren’t his feelings. They were Tony’s. Tony was worried and scared and had brought down his shields so that Bucky could feel his emotions and Bucky was standing on the other side of the room like an idiot.

“Excuse me,” he said brusquely, cutting Steve off. “Tony’s in trouble.”

He headed straight for Tony, pushing through the crowd without sparing a thought to anyone he might be offending as he shoved them aside. For once, it was Steve who was trailing after him, offering apologies to everyone who looked offended.

There was a look of naked relief in Tony’s eyes as Bucky marched up behind the alpha Tony was talking to. It was a look he’d never seen on Tony’s face before, at least not directed at him, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that his omega was happy to have him there or disliked that Tony had to be relieved at all.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asked, hand clamping down on the alpha’s shoulder.

“Bucky,” Tony breathed. He sagged back against the wall. “This is Aldrich Killian. He’d like to propose—” Tony’s mouth twisted unhappily. “He’d like to propose an omega trade. I told him I wasn’t interested, but he insisted on talking to you.”

Anger flared in Bucky’s chest, hot and furious. Omega trades weren’t common anymore, used mostly in backroom deals to secure a transaction. You treat my omega right and I’ll treat your omega right, and maybe we can have a deal. He knew the rich, traditional alphas Tony had grown up with still occasionally used them, but he hated them. He’d always hated them. The very concept treated omegas like property, like hostages, and the thought of seeing Tony—his Tony—under someone else had his vision shading red.

“Is that so?” he hissed.

Killian, the idiot, didn’t seem to notice Bucky’s growing anger. “Maya’s a great—” he began to say.

Bucky cut him off with a hand around his throat, slamming him into the wall.

“Bucky—” Steve started, a warning in his voice.

“Tell them it’s SHIELD business,” he snapped. “Isn’t that the usual excuse?”

What Steve did to placate the crowd growing around them, he didn’t know; he was too intent on Killian to care. “Let me get this straight,” he growled. “You asked Tony for a trade and when he told you no, because I know him, he wouldn’t ever want that and he wouldn’t be quiet about it, you cornered him and insisted you’d only listen to a no from me.” It wasn’t a question. Tony’s thoughts and emotions were flooding him with what Killian had tried to do to him. He growled again at the image of Killian’s hand on Tony’s arm, removed after only a moment. This—this—alpha had tried to put his hands on Tony, had ignored his clear no, and was still babbling on about whatever business deal he wanted out of Bucky—or, more likely, Tony, though as an omega, Tony wouldn’t be able to make that decision.

“It’s a yes or no question, Killian,” he finally snapped, losing his temper. “Did you or did you not ignore Tony’s answer—"

“He’s an omega,” Killian tried.

“He’s a person. He’s a person who was clearly uncomfortable with you and you should never have ignored that. The only reason you’re still standing and not laid out on the floor is because he cares about making a scene, but guess what, I don’t.” His hand tightened on Killian’s throat, making the man wheeze. “Do—”

“Bucky,” Tony said quietly, cutting through his anger.

Without removing his hand from Killian, he looked at Tony. Tony still looked a little shaken, but there was something else in his eyes, something that Bucky didn’t know how to describe.

“Let him go,” Tony continued. “You made your point.”

“He—”

“Yeah, he did,” Tony said, knowing what he was going to say. Bucky wondered if his own shields were down, letting Tony read his thoughts and feelings. “And you were here to stop it, so it’s okay. Let him go, we can go get burgers.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to make sure Killian never laid hands on someone unwilling ever again, but then Steve was there, carefully pulling Bucky away as he muttered to him about seeing what Fury could do about Killian. And that wasn’t exactly what Bucky wanted, but it was better than nothing, and taking care of Tony was his priority anyway. So since Tony wanted burgers, he would go get burgers.

He spun on his heels, intent on heading to the elevators, only to freezes as soon as he saw Tony. They were supposed to be faking it, which meant that he should do something—wrap an arm around Tony’s waist or kiss his forehead or—or something. But Tony had just had to deal with an unwelcome touch. He shouldn’t have to deal with another one so soon afterwards.

Tony surprised him though by stepping forward and sliding his hand into Bucky’s, interlacing their fingers. “Come on, alpha. Let’s go home,” he said, leading Bucky through the crowd watching them. Bucky ignored them in favor of drinking in the sight of Tony whole and healthy, if not happy.

They were quiet in the elevator ride back down to the parking garage, quiet as they climbed into the back of the car, quiet as Happy pulled out onto the road. Then Tony slid across the backseat to tuck up against Bucky’s side. He rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and, after a moment, Bucky rested his cheek against Tony’s curls.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” Tony said. Bucky could feel the truth in his words through their bond, and he realized that Tony hadn’t put his mental shields back up. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help if I hadn’t been expecting something like that.”

“Shouldn’t have taken it so far though. I know you’re not—we’re not—” He grimaced as he fumbled over the words. He’d been able to admit for three months that he and Tony weren’t in a relationship, why was it so hard now?

Tony hesitated before carefully saying, “We could be.”

“We—what?”

“Bucky Bear,” Tony said warmly, sitting up so he could look him in the eyes. “You have to know—people don’t just do what you did tonight or the night we met, for that matter. Not for me. I—I don’t know, the way we bonded, it threw me off. I wasn’t expecting it and I reacted badly. But—then the way you reacted to Killian got me thinking—maybe we could try?”

“Try?” Bucky whispered.

“Try us?” Tony asked, leaning back in slowly, giving Bucky enough time to move away if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to. “Yeah,” he breathed. “We could try. I—I’d like that.”

Tony smiled at him, bright and lovely, and closed the distance between them.

#alle writes #winteriron #if you like please consider reblogging #alle answers

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tryingmydarndest · 3 years

Text

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

#luka couffaine x reader #luka couffaine #mircaulous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #miraculous fanfic #miraculous luka #miraculous lb #the tales of ladybug and cat noir #luka couffaine fanfic #luka couffaine imagine #im gonna hate seeing this show up when i search luka x reader #but imma have to deal with it #mmmmmmm #we love anxiety here #<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

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voiceswithoutlips · 3 years

Text

Calico - Chapter Eight

— pairing: Hybrid ot7 x Human Reader (Female) — genre: hybrid AU, fluff, angst, slow burn (like real slow), eventual smut — word count: 3k — Rating: G — warnings: Slight mention of past abuse, description of a panic attack. — beta: Thank you @taegularities and @joheunsaram <3

Tag List || Masterlist || Schedule

— chapter summary:

Y/N is having a hard day, who will comfort her?

— A/N: Guys, I’m so bad at summaries, if this was an exam my grades would’ve been in the negative. Anyway, welcome to the new chapter! I know I was supposed to post fallen, but somehow I ended up writing Calico instead.

I’ve had a bad case of writer’s block this week so writing this chapter was really painful, words refused to come out of my brain xD I hope you like it! You guys have been so awesome, all your feedback is really helpful. Thank you so much <3

— taglist: @lovelyseomin @anaac28 @ghostkat23 @btswdwsmhrdt @sweeneyblue1 @luvtaeha @taegularities @ aajames217 @ littlewolfieposts @nochujeonjk @hamiltrashlebo @minyoonsh @hoebii @ sunshinee0-0 @egm09 @cstobitk @splaterparty0-0 @missseoulite @mirawi-fox @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @hemmofluke @seaoffangirling @gee-nee @woopetals @secretbangtnn @vminkook-ownsme

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 3.5 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8.5

I made my way downstairs in search of breakfast. Ice cream, that’s what I needed. It was that kind of a day. I was tired, jet lagged, and the tension in the house had me on edge. The flight home was fairly uneventful, except for the part where Jimin had gotten scared of flying. He had asked to hold my hand, but by the time we were in the air, the hybrid was practically sitting on my lap. Not that I minded, he was hella cuddly and his purring was downright therapeutic.

When I had asked Jungkook, if it would be okay to bring the newer hybrids home, the bunny had sounded excited, but as soon as we had gotten home, the mood had suddenly shifted. It was not the welcome I was expecting.

First, Jungkook’s hair was the color of the rainbow. His beautiful black locks were turned into a colorful mess, his white bunny ears poking out of it in stark contrast. It was a riot of colors, artfully mixed together, and I felt like I was looking at rainbow pasta. Not that the bunny didn’t pull it off, he looked really cute in it, but somehow I had a raging suspicion that it hadn’t been Jungkook’s idea.

Then, there was the growling match. I had never seen Jungkook so aggressive before. The usually sweet and well behaved bunny had started growling at Jimin as soon as we’d entered the house.. That had set off a chain reaction with Namjoon and Seokjin joining in to protect their younger packmate.

On top of that, I had to go to Seoul for three days to take care of business. I had to visit the main office to attend a few meetings and sign some papers. The whole time I felt guilty about leaving the hybrids alone. I was constantly worried that somehow they’d end up fighting. By the time I came back, somehow, someway, Jason had managed to convince Jimin to dye his hair pink. He was on a warpath.

And lastly, there was the issue of a certain stuffed penguin that went missing - my nights were sleepless without him. All in all, this had to have been one of the shittiest weeks, and it felt like I was losing my grip on reality.

I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, struggling to keep them open. Unlike Jason, who was cheerfully humming, I was not a morning person. Seokjin was busy near the stove, cooking something and by the smell wafting from the pan, I could tell that it was something delicious. I had thanked every existing god when I’d learned that the sugar glider hybrid was actually an excellent chef. The first morning, he had seen Jason cook breakfast, he’d been horrified, promptly taking over the kitchen after that. Even Jungkook had begrudgingly ate his food.

My stomach grumbled as I peered in the pan. Kimchi fried rice, delicious. Unlike Jimin and Jungkook, the two older hybrids weren’t really that affectionate. I wondered if it was because they weren’t used to me yet or if they just had a different temperament. I needed to do more research on that.

I plopped down on the chair with a groan, resting my head on the counter, hands securely wrapped around my stomach. Jason gave me an enthusiastic “good morning” and I shot him a middle finger, too tired to curse at him. The bastard chuckled.

I was debating if I should stab him with a fork when I felt hands wrapping around my waist, long fingers intertwined with mine. Jungkook bent down to nuzzle the side of my face. His muscular body pressed close. My lips curled into a small smile as I made small happy noises. My brain wasn’t awake enough to form coherent sentences yet. I needed my cup of coffee or better yet, some delicious ice cream.

Jungkook’s arms tightened around me possessively, I could feel the vibrations in his chest as he let out a low growl. I opened my eyes to see Jimin standing near the chair, looking distressed, hands balled into fists at his sides. His tail was swishing rapidly in agitation, ears flattened to his head. He was biting his lower lip, trying his best not to respond to Jungkook’s hostility.

“Bunny no,” I croaked, patting his hands, my voice thick with sleep. I lifted my head, extending a hand to Jimin. Jungkook took his cue and reluctantly let me go, keeping hold of my other hand. Jimin grabbed my hand and with his other one checked my forehead, a worried look on his face.

“Are you sick?” he asked, gnawing on his lip.

“I’m just sleepy.” He giggled at my pout and graced me with a forehead kiss. He sat down next to me, and now I was sandwiched between two hybrids who were holding my hands, glaring daggers at each other. I rested my forehead on the counter with a sigh. What was I going to do with them?

Once again I was in a dilemma. I could scold them and make them shake hands, like a couple of kids, or I could let them handle it on their own, like adults. Taking care of four hybrids was tiring. I shot a quick glance at Seokjin, who was now setting up the table; he was ignoring the two younger hybrids in front of him, but his tail was curled tightly, ears flat. It seemed as if he was tense too.

“Guys, I need breakfast,” I said, reluctantly pulling my hands from their grip. I made my way to the fridge to grab a tub of my favorite ice cream, ignoring the stares that the hybrids were giving me. I had to stop myself from pulling Jason’s ear as I passed him, not now Y/N. The revenge for ruining Jungkook’s hair had to be elaborately planned, something memorable, just like old days. Like the time when I had super glued his shirt cuffs closed, so he couldn't put his hands through the sleeves. He had started this war, I was going to finish it.

“I like your garden!” Namjoon said as he walked in through the back door. Ears perked up, an excited glint in his eyes. I didn’t even know he was out there. I wondered if he could help me with the hybrid situation, he was a pack leader after all. He had informed me about hybrid pack dynamics on the plane while I cuddled a sleepy Jimin. Apparently he was their alpha, the leader of their pack, Seokjin was second in command and Jimin was their maknae. He was excited to meet Jungkook, since he was a rabbit hybrid, they're usually very docile and friendly. Needless to say, we had both been shocked at the bunny's behavior.

“I’m glad you like it. Maybe you could help me with it?”

“Really? I would love to!”

We all moved to the seldom used dining table for breakfast - now that there were six of us, the kitchen counter was too small to occupy us all. I debated where to sit, I didn't want to take sides in the hybrid cold war, so I chose to sit at the head of the table, safe middle ground. I knew Jungkook would want to share the ice cream. I wondered if the other hybrids would too, so I had brought extra spoons, just in case.

"Seokjin, this is delicious!" Jason said as soon as he took a bite of the fried rice. "Where did you learn to cook like this?" I couldn't help but smile at the hint of envy in his voice.

"Madame hired a professional chef to teach me when she found out I liked to cook," he said shyly, ears turning pink from all the attention. It was his cutest trait: whenever someone looked at him, his ears would start to redden.

"That was nice of her," I said dryly, the distaste apparent in my tone.

"She was really nice," Namjoon said pointedly, clearly disliking my tone.

“Clair was kind, she saved us from our previous owners and gave us a home,” Jimin joined him.

"Oh?" Jason said, trying to coax some details. The three hybrids shared a quick look. Jungkook had abandoned his fried rice and was digging into my ice cream, his ears perked, listening in on the conversation.

“My first owner was a gambler, but he didn’t play poker. He and his rich friends were into blood sports. They had their own dog fighting ring. He had raised me since I was a pup, trained me to be a fighter, forced me to participate. One day, Clair saw me at a party and she wanted to buy me, she offered him so much money that he couldn’t refuse,” Namjoon finished with a sad smile. I wanted to go and hug him, but I was sure the hybrid wouldn’t welcome the gesture.

“I…” Jimin paused, looking down at his hands. “The lady who raised me, she brought me clients. She’d sell me to people… sometimes it was for a night, sometimes it was more. She used to tell me that I was her lucky charm. Clair rescued me from her, she was really kind to me.”

The spoon in my hand clattered on the table. There was a ringing in my ear. My limbs were paralyzed, heart pounding in my chest as I felt the panic rise, almost drowning in it. I couldn't get enough air, finding myself on the verge of hyperventilating while my brain went into overdrive. It wasn’t my first panic attack, I was aware of what was happening to me, I knew I had to get a hold of myself. I couldn’t lose it here, not in front of them.

“Y/N? Hey can you hear me?” I turned towards the voice, Jason’s face slowly came into focus, “are you okay?”

“Y/N?” Jungkook said, looking extremely worried. He was holding my hand like a lifeline. I slowly removed his fingers and took my hand back.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I murmured, trying to control my breathing. I got up from the chair with wobbly knees, making my way towards the door. “You guys finish up, I’ll be in my office.”

Redemption, what a joke.

It was well into the afternoon when my stomach informed me that I was hungry. I was swarmed with paperwork. I’d been busy the whole week, running errands, filling forms, trying to keep the hybrids from tearing each other apart, so the paperwork got neglected, and now I was paying for it. I briefly wondered if I should go back home and grab something to eat, but then I remembered the look on everyone’s faces this morning. I had panicked in front of them. I had been feeling restless the whole week without a certain comfort penguin. I was too embarrassed to ask the guys if they had seen it.

I groaned, leaning back in my chair. How was I going to face them? What would I tell them if they asked? A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. “Come in.”

It was Jungkook, holding a bowl. He tentatively entered the office, looking everywhere but at me. His ears were drooping behind him. “I brought you lunch,” he said, setting the bowl on the table.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away this morning,” I apologized, extending a hand towards him, which he took hesitantly. I pulled him in my lap and buried my face in his chest; he smelled like vanilla.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, wrapping his big hands around me.

“No,” I whispered. “But don't worry bunny, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.”

“Is it because of Jimin? Can’t we just send him away?”

That made me raise my head to look at him. “Why don’t you like him, bun?”

“He’s too clingy,” Jungkook pouted, jutting his lower lip out. It made me giggle.

“What about Namjoon and Seokjin?”

“They can stay, Seokjin hyung makes delicious food and Namjoon hyung is so cool.”

“Oh, did you talk to them?”

He shook his head no. I almost cooed at him - the poor bunny was too shy to talk to the older hybrids. “Why don’t you try making friends with Jimin? I bet you’ll like him if you got to know him better.”

He buried his face in my hair and shook his head, “...don't wanna.”

I took his hand in mine. “Won’t you do it for me?” I asked dramatically, trying to sound upset.

Jungkook leaned back to look at me, pout more pronounced. He knew exactly what I was doing. “Fine, I’ll try,” he agreed with a defeated sigh.

“Thank you, baby.” I kissed his palm in gratitude. At least he had agreed to try. “Why did you dye your hair?” I asked curiously, running my hands through his multicolored locks.

“Iwantyoutolikeme,” he said in one breath, hiding his face in my hair again.

“What?”

“I want you to like me.”

“You dyed your hair because you want me to like you?” Jungkook nodded. “Oh baby, I already like you!” I squeezed him tight, letting him know how much he meant to me. Is that what Jason had told Jimin? That I’d like him better if he dyed his hair? Jason was diabolical, I really needed to come up with a good plan to get back at him.

“Bun, next time, don’t listen to Jason.”

I was curled up on the sofa with a blanket. It was past midnight but I was wide awake and restless, staring at the ceiling. I had almost turned on the TV, but then I remembered that there were four hybrids in the house with phenomenal hearing, and I really didn’t want to wake them up. And thus, I suffered in silence.

I hadn’t seen the three new hybrids all day; they hadn’t been introduced to the shelter yet, so they stayed at home. When I came back from work, they were already in their room. They had insisted on staying in the same room, something about new places and pack bonding. I was giving Jason the cold shoulder, at least until he apologized for his crimes. And Jungkook was busy playing his new video games.

Clair had saved Jimin.

The thought rang in my head. Why hadn’t she saved me? Would things have been different, if she had stepped in? I had to admit, I was a tiny bit jealous of the panther hybrid. She had saved him.

Madame was so kind.

I was furious. How dare she? Clair had been a coward, had lived and died as one. I knew it in my soul, never in a million years would I ever forgive that woman. She didn’t deserve it.

“You’re angry,” a quiet voice said. I looked up to see a tall silhouette standing at the bottom of the stairs. Seokjin stepped out of the shadows, clutching a pillow in his hands.

“I was thinking. Can’t sleep?”

“Namjoon snores really loudly,” he complained. It made me laugh. The three of them were always attached to the hip, I had wondered if it was because they were uncomfortable here.

“You know we have plenty of spare bedrooms, you can take any of them.”

“Why are you here?”

“I can’t sleep.” I shrugged. Seokjin nodded understandingly, but he didn’t move an inch. “Do you want to sleep on the couch?”

He hesitated, looking as if he was unsure if he should accept my offer before he murmured, “can I?”

“Of course! But I think, a bed would be more comfortable,” I said, moving from the couch to the armchair. Seokjin sat down on the couch, placing his pillow near him.

“Why can’t you sleep? Is it because of what Jimin said?” he asked cautiously, ears erect and attentive.

“I have insomnia.” I shrugged, but Seokjin kept staring at me. I squirmed under his piercing gaze; staring at me like he could see right through my bullshit. “I didn’t have a good relationship with Clair. She raised me, but she was cruel, unkind. I just… can’t fathom her as someone nice.”

“So it had nothing to do with Jimin being a prostitute?” he asked suspiciously.

“WAIT! Is that what you guys thought? Oh my god, I would never…” I was shocked. No wonder the hybrids were avoiding me like the plague. “I’m really sorry, if it seemed that way but it's not like that. I’m really happy that Clair rescued him. He deserves a good home, a family. I don’t think you’d believe me, even if I told you what my aunt was like. I’m really sorry, if I hurt you guys. But believe me when I say that this is not a place where you’ll be judged for your past.”

“You mean that.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I do.”

“You could sleep on the couch with me?” Seokjin offered sheepishly, ears turning the color of strawberries. I was surprised to see him be so direct. He had been very reserved around me till now, only talking when necessary.

“Are you sure? Won’t you be uncomfortable?” I asked, eyeing the couch. It was big enough to seat five people comfortably, but Seokjin was big too.

He nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

Seokjin adjusted the pillow and laid down on the sofa, leaving room for me. I stood there with my hello kitty blanket, wondering if it was okay. The sudden change in the hybrid’s demeanor was unexpected and I gave up trying to dissect the situation. I had to admit, I was feeling a bit cuddly since the loss of my penguin and I desperately needed sleep. I scooched on the sofa, covering both of us with the blanket, resting my head on his arm.

“You’re not okay,” he murmured, wrapping his other arm around my waist, his tail curling around my thigh.

“I just need some sleep,” I sighed. Seokjin was like a furnace behind me. I wondered why all hybrids were this warm.

“Lies,” he said as he lightly nibbled on my ear. I gasped at the unexpected contact, my heart beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” my voice came out breathier than I had intended.

“I do, I just didn’t know how to approach you. You seem so independent, I didn’t know where I could fit in your life. The only thing I could do for Clair was look pretty. But this.... this I can do, I can comfort you. I want to be useful.”

I turned around to look at him. “Oh honey, you don’t have to be useful. You’re you and that’s enough for me. I just want you to be happy.” I lightly kissed his cheek.

“I’m going to be your comfort blanket,” Seokjin said with a smile and hugged me closer.

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hangekitty · 3 years

Note

Hiii, I wanted to ask if you could write a f!Hange x fem!reader one shot where the reader is outside the Walls for a mission. Usually hange would be with them being their Partner and everything but for some reason can't. So when they come back they stand in the front row and search for their girlfriend but can't see her and the group is so much smaller so they already know what happend and there is only one thought in their head something like...nonono this is not happening right now.... a few days later a small group stands before the Walls and explain that they got seperated from their group when Titans attacked but managed to hide, find their horses and ride back at night. The reader goes to Hange and finds them in their shared room. Broken and hopeless, ready to give up and when the reader starts talking they think they are going crazy but when she touches them they realize that the reader is real and alive and just throws themselves at her and very gentle smut and fluff happens.

Okay sorry for my english and this was way too long😅

But I hope you decide to write this and if you do thank you soo much❤❤

Hange x f!Reader - Lost without you

Oh my I loved writing this. The thought of a grieving Hange is too much so I’m glad this is contains fluff and smut! Shoutout to @sweetfaun for grammar and editing checks! 🌸

Genre: fluff, smut, 18+

Warnings: subtle mention of suicide, fingering, tribbing

Word count: 3417

A/N: I listened to the “falling in love with Hange Zöe” playlist on Spotify by ObviouslyMoss whilst writing this if anyone is interested. I might keep music a running theme on my work. AFAB Hange - I may have accidentally made them a bit softer than usual but come on they are a big softie.

The life of a soldier in the scout regiment is one of duty and dedication. At any moment you could be asked to give up your heart, your life, and your soul for humanity. It is strongly advised that upon becoming a scout you are to leave behind all personal feelings and relationships as there is a possibility you will lose everything in a blink of an eye. This is something that is easier said than done, as despite the consequences each soldier is still only human.

Regardless of any warnings, there was no stopping squad leader Hange Zoe falling for their fellow squad leader – you. Perhaps it was the way you laughed with them, or how you helped them with their elaborate experiments, or maybe that one time you convinced Hange to shower with you. Hange was smitten, and fortunately so were you. Only the Gods knew what Hange would do without you, and if they were ever to lose you…. It simply wasn’t worth thinking about. You were everything to them, their reason to be alive; so, if there ever was a day that you were no more it would feel as if Hange had lost their entire world.

The two of you had dated for little over a year. The way in which Hange had asked if their feelings for you were reciprocated was adorable. They had thought to surprise you by naming the four titans being held in captivity ‘Will, Yew, Bee and, Myne’. Moblit had assisted with the entire thing, having taken the time to write up each name on an individual plaque and arranging them accordingly. Hange had everything set up, ready and waiting for when you were leaving a meeting and had sent Moblit to escort you back to the research labs. Upon your arrival, Hange grabbed your hand and excitedly announced that they had successfully caught four titans for experimentation. As you looked upon them, noticing the quaint plaques that featured a tidy penmanship – you assumed it must belong to Moblit, as Hange’s scrawl was illegible at the best of times.

“Will…. Yew…. Bee…Myne?” You read aloud and before you even had the time to process the play on words, Hange let out an astounding “Yes, of course I will!” and wrapped themself around you. Admittedly, you were confused at first, but you soon caught on and admitted your feelings for real.

From that point, you were always together. Whether it was on expeditions or within the lab, it was a rarity to see you two together. Commander Erwin had granted you permission to share a room together. Fortunately, so, as the constant charades of having to sneak into each other’s rooms at night were beginning to get exhausting. Soon it had got to the point where sharing your space with Hange had become second nature, and that you were unable to sleep without them by your side.

---

It was the Summer of 849, and Erwin had organised an unexpected expedition. It hadn’t been that long since the last and you wondered why there was such a rush to go beyond the walls once again in such a short period of time. The unexpected nature of Erwin’s plans meant that Hange wasn’t able to attend this expedition on account of two titans that were being held in the research facilities. Hange had named them Charles and Domery – peculiar names, but that was to be assumed of Hange Usually you would be expected to assist Hange with their research, however on this occasion your presence on the field was required due to you being a Squad Leader.

“It’s just two days, sweetheart,” you cooed as the both of you rested in bed. You were sat up, lounging back within the abundance of pillows, whilst Hange’s head rested in your lap as you attempted to hush them asleep by stroking their hair. Despite your attempts, it was inevitable that Hange would spend a majority of the night lying awake due to the anxiety pooling in their stomach. You two were practically joined at the hip by now, and every time you had to separate Hange found themselves unable to sleep. They had wrapped their arms around your leg, hugging it tighter with every minute that passed. They were so scared of losing you, and so any moment they had left with you they wanted to stay conscious.

“But, y/n, I won’t be with you,” Hange whined, the irregular softness of their voice tugging at your heartstrings. This was always the worst part of the job – having to leave your loved ones behind, unsure whether or not you would ever see them again. However, it was important. You had to do this for the sake of humanity; it’s what both you and Hange had understood and had committed to upon signing up for the Survey Corp. Sometimes you wished you could just run away together and leave it all behind. You cup Hange’s face in your hands, delicately stroking their soft cheeks with the pads of your thumb.

“I know, my sweet, I know. I’ll be okay, I promise,”.

---

Despite their being an air of doubt in their mind, Hange believed that you would keep your promise of returning unharmed. Whenever Hange was unable to attend an expedition, they were sure to stand in the front row of bystanders that were awaiting the return of the scouts. Five squads had left just two days ago, but it seemed that only three had successfully returned today.

“Erwin… Levi… Miche… Gelgar,” Hange listed off as they could see their companions passing through the gates. Their eyes frantically darted through the hoard to see whether you had snuck in, to see whether they had simply missed your arrival. Panic began coursing through their veins, but it soon began to settle as a majority of your squad came into view. Evidently, the group was smaller than when you had initially left for the expedition; and the remaining members were beaten and brushed – with one unfortunate soldier missing both an arm and a leg.

“No no no nonononono, this isn’t right. Where is she?!” Was all Hange could think. Blind panic took over, and Hange found themselves moving towards one of your squad members and demanded to know where you were.

“Where is y/n? Where is she?” Hange practically screamed. The looks on everyone’s face was grim; this wasn’t looking good at all.

“We were separated. The last we saw of Squad Leader y/n they were fighting off an abnormal. We waited for them at our usual checkpoint, but no one came”. One dishevelled soldier finally answered. At this point, Hange decided to just leave immediately – not even bothering to welcome their friends back. They crawled into your shared bed, curling in on themselves and taking hold of the sheets. Tears fell down their face as they attempted to conceal a painful, horrifying wail.

“This can’t be happening” they whimpered “You promised,”.

---

A couple of days later, Hange was still in the bedroom. The numbness they felt only allowed them to drink something that Levi bought in every few hours. He never said anything during these visits, only sitting on the bed with Hange for a while and then silently taking his leave.

Despite the agonising feeling in their heart, Hange still found it funny how they’d gone from being unable to sleep without your presence to continuously sleeping throughout the days. Perhaps it was as close as they could get to being with you, as you had seemingly passed into the next realm. Or perhaps it was just a sad coping mechanism as being awake felt far too painful. They were on the edge of just giving up and considering finding a new life away from the scout regiment. Admittedly Hange had felt disappointed in themselves, having allowed themselves to develop feeling and leaving them vulnerable to heartache. Through the darkest moments, they considering just ending it all in order to be reunited with you.

---

What Hange hadn’t realised is that you and the rest of the squad had returned days after everyone else. Albeit you were all looking a little worse for wear, but overall, you were okay. Upon hearing of your arrival Moblit had immediately sought after you. He clutched your hands into his own. A worried expression was painted across his face.

“y/n, you’re okay! What happened?”

“We were intercepted by titans and my squad had to split. We had no choice but to hide and wait until it was safe for us to come back. We all had to find and gather our horse – it wasn’t an easy feat. Then we had to ride back home during the night. I’m sorry we worried you”. You let out an exasperated sigh. Being a squad leader was difficult, made even more so by being left out in the field with no food or water.

Upon receiving news of your arrival home, Levi and Erwin had come to the courtyard with a few others, all armed with bread and water hoping to nourish both you and your squad.

“y/n, you’re alright” Levi began. Despite his apathetic face, he was pleased to see you. Before allowing you to gulp down your water he placed a firm grasp on your shoulder and looked at you directly. “Please let Four Eyes know you’re okay. They’re not doing too good, and it’s been quiet without them.”

You choke on your water upon hearing this. Oh Gods, how you have fretted about Hange and how sick with worry and anxiety they’d be. Honestly, you’d half expected them to rush out and greet you. However, you already knew that Hange had probably assumed the worst and went straight into mourning. Feeling a burning sensation in your throat as tears began to prick your eyes, you excused yourself from your captain – determined to not cry in front of him. Despite the deep exhaustion you were feeling, pure determination allowed you to rush back to your living quarters and towards your own bedroom.

---

Once you reach the entrance to your room, you have half a mind to slam open the door and leap straight onto the bed where you assumed Hange was currently laying. You imagined planting them with a million kisses, but you knew you had to take a gentler approach than that. When Hange was feeling fragile, all they needed was a soft touch.

You opened the door a little, only to be met with a groan.

“No thank you Captain, please leave me alone,” Hange muttered, curling in on themselves even more. Oh, how hollow their voice sounded, full of sorrow and guilt.

“Hange?” You gently called out. Immediately their head turned towards you. Was it really you? “I’m here, darling.”

Hange shot up immediately, staring at your face and drinking in your presence. You were smiling, ready to give them a hug, but Hange’s face wasn’t that of love but instead one of panic and confusion.

“No no, you aren’t real. I know you’re not there; you’re gone! My brain must be having a breakdown I- “

You interrupt their murmurings and reach forward to take hold of Hange’s hand, placing in onto your chest directly over your heartbeat. Their eyes dart between your face and their own hand. You could feel them trembling under your touch until realisation had set in.

“y/n, it’s really you!”. Their eyes began welling with tears, causing you to begin crying all over again. This time, however, it was with a smile. Hange lunged forward and held you tight to their body.

“WAAAAHHH!” They yelled out before tackling you to the bed, crying and wailing the whole time. “Y/N YOU’RE OKAY! YOU’RE OKAY!” they repeated, not realising you were practically suffocating under their intense grip on you. There they were arms around your chest and stomach whilst rubbing their face into your neck and squirming with pure joy.

“Hange!” you giggled “Hange, I can’t breathe!”. A little alarmed, Hange let go a little and positioned you in front of them. They cupped your face with both hands, smiling at you before kissing you intently. You would have thought it would be as rough as passionate as the hugs had been, but instead this kiss was gentle and meaningful. Hange pulled away and their eyes began studying your face.

“How…What happened?” They asked, their voice gentle and soft.

“Some abnormal titans had us cornered. We had to hide and then find our horses again. We couldn’t ride home until nightfall the following day, but I’m back now. I’m safe”

That was all the words Hange had needed to hear before pulling you into another gentle kiss. Whilst you were lost in such contentment, Hange reached down to touch your thigh; earning themself an excited yelp just because they took their chance and pushed further to stick their tongue into your mouth. This gentle, romantic kiss gradually became one that was more desperate, steamier. Their hands wandered down your body, touching every inch possible as if they still weren’t completely convinced you were real.

Hange pulled away, looking up and down your body with a mischievous look in their eye. Although you were tired, you felt an immense desire to just be taken there and then – to connect your bodies and become one. And how could you resist with the face Hange was giving you in that moment? They moved down your body, planting kisses and gentle nips whilst removing any fabric that they met along the way.

“It must have been tough out there,” Hange began as they removed their shirt – their binder soon following. “I missed you greatly,”

“I…I missed you too Ha-“ Your train of thought was interrupted as Hange began nibbling at your thighs. You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks as their dark brown eyes met yours.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now lay back and let me reward you for being a brave little soldier,” Hange purred before diving headfirst in between your thighs, laying further kisses and kitten licks at your soft, sensitive flesh. If Hange was to have glanced up to your face, they would have seen the stars in your eyes - your face to full of love and admiration. And it was all for them.

Noticing as Hange was getting close to your wet pussy, you shook yourself out of your trance. Panic shot through you, and you held a rather surprised Hange’s face in your palms.

“I…I don’t think I want that. I have only just got back and I…” You could barely finish your sentence. You were embarrassed. Several days of fighting titans without any opportunity to efficiently clean yourself had left you feeling self-conscious. Hange cocked their head to the side. You could see the cogs turning in their head as they worked out what exactly the issue was.

“Oh! Don’t worry, you’re absolutely fine. But if you don’t want that…” Hange lifted themselves above you, cupping you through your underwear. “Would something like this make you more comfortable?”. They smirked as you let out a squeak before nodding eagerly.

Hange leaned in, laying hungry kisses against you as they played with your clothed clit. The whines you let out against their mouth only made them increase the pressure through the fabric of your underwear, and you could feel their smirks as they did so. As Hange’s mouth travelled further south to latch onto a pert nipple they took the opportunity to slip a couple of things through the elastic of your underwear, stroking along your folds and now aching nub. You attempted to cross your legs at the sensation as you were already beginning to feel worked up and sensitive. Amused by your squirms, Hange let out a small giggle and moved their free hand towards your other nipple. You could already feel a build-up, a hot and heavy sensation as your lower abandon appeared to coil and tighten. They then slipped two digits inside of you, ensuring their thumb remained circling on your clit as they arched their fingers inside of you. Your soft moans became deep and shaky, you were sure you were getting close to your release.

“Hange~” you purred. Your words were golden to your lover, and you could feel them relentlessly pick up the pace until you reached out to pull their hand away from you.

“y/n?” Hange asked breathlessly against your chest.

“I want to try something together,” you cooed. Hange looked at you, their face both full of lust and curiosity. You began to reposition yourself, so you were now over Hange. Giving a cheeky grin, you pulled down their trousers and underwear. You then quickly whipped off your own underwear, leaving the both of you completely naked with no barriers between your skin. Manoeuvring Hange onto their back, guiding them to rest upon the abundance of soft cushions at the top of the bed, you nudged their knees apart to reveal their glistening sex. Hange was already wet and raring to go ahead with whatever you had planned. After a few strokes of your fingers against their folds, you positioned yourself between their thighs so that your own pussy was aligned with theirs. You reached your lips forward to suck and lick Hange’s tanned nipples before pressing yourself against them, rocking your hips back and forth; your clits throbbing as your slick rubbed against each other.

Whilst still sucking at Hange’s breast you reached under them and pressed their back up, increasing the pleasure below. It was a strange position, something you two hadn’t tried before, but neither of you were complaining. Undeniably, this level of intimacy was appreciated considering recent events. You couldn’t help but moan out, and you shot a look up towards Hange’s face which was contorted in pleasure as they let our their own breathy moans. To add to the intensity, you slipped one hand between the two of you, stroking your fingers against either of your clits. You turned your focus onto Hange, although both of you were feeling incredibly sensitive.

“I love you; I love you,” you moaned. You could feel the knot within your tummy releasing, and you clamped your eyes tight shut and moved to mark Hange’s neck with dark bruises. With a few more thrusts of your hips Hange soon released against your own fingers, letting out a shrill wail as they did so. You held Hange in a tight embrace, arms wrapped desperately against each other as if you never wanted to let go and basked within each other’s post-orgasm glow.

After your breaths levelled out and you calmed down, you flopped to Hange’s side on the bed. You scooted over, bringing their back against your chest as you spooned them. Continuing to wrap them tight in your embrace, you left quick desperate kisses against their throat whilst letting out soft words of affirmation against their skin.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Hange sighed, squeezing your hands as they rested against their chest. You left a gentle kiss against the back of their head and nuzzled into the crook of their neck.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, I never want to put you in that position again,” You said, beginning to stroke at Hange’s hair. You wiggled further up the bed and laid Hange’s head onto your lap once again. As you looked down at them you felt nothing but pure adoration. However, as Hange looked up at you you could see the beginnings of tears in those big brown eyes. They gave your hand a soft squeeze.

“Please tell me you’re going to stay for the next experiment. If you don’t I’ll just have to fight Erwin to keep you for myself,” they exclaimed, all traces of previous sadness now gone from their face as they punched their arms into the air.

“I promise I’ll stay. Anything for you, my titan crazed maniac,”. You planted a soft kiss against their forehead and relaxed back into the pillows. “We really should shower though”.

“Do we have to?” Hange groaned against your lap, barely audible against your legs. Even now you were convinced Hange was hydrophobic, but you knew exactly how to lure them into a warm clean shower.

“I mean, we could shower together?” you said, your voice sounding tempting. This clearly piqued Hange’s interest as they looked up with a cheeky grin.

#aot hange #aot smut #hange zoe x reader #attack on titan hange #Hange x reader #aot x reader #hange zoë #hange zoe

202 notes · View notes

wowtobio · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can I ask headcanons for a new female Inarizaki manager? Someone is cute as a princess and takes care of them as a mom. Something like they relationships with her, how she supports them at matches, how they protect her etc. I need more headcanon about Inarizaki!

✧･ﾟ:*Being Inarizaki’s Female Manager*:･ﾟ✧*

yess i love them sm :’) thank you for the request love!

warnings: none

(credit to the artist of this amazing art!)

When you were first introduced to the team as the new female manager by Kita, majority of the members couldn’t help but be skeptical. It’s not like they wanted or needed a manager so it was strange that you appeared out of nowhere.

Not gonna lie, you definitely felt un-welcomed when you first stepped into the gym. The squeaking sounds of shoes met the gym floors and the echoes from the hard impact each spiked ball landed shook you up a tad bit. And feeling their darkening stares that added to the menacing aura within the gym did not help at all.

Naturally they were weary of you, just assuming you were a Miya fangirl wanting to get closer to the twins. Your recruiter, captain Kita was the first person to make you feel welcome to the team. Although he spoke to you in serious tones, he was straight to the point and voiced that he trusted you, which smoothed over your jitters.

Atsumu was super flirty with you, Ginjima acted rough and passive towards you, Omimi kinda scared you with his intense looks, Osamu and Suna barely spared you a glance, and Aran and Akagi actually greeted you every now and then.

You just went with the flow, and after a bit of doing serious work that actually helped the team they were like “oh shoot, maybe she is the real deal”

Despite their coldness, you would still look after the boys. Making sure they were hydrated by providing them water always, scolding them for their injuries before patching them up, etc. They were caught off guard at your motherly behavior, but they slowly warmed up to you.

Atsumu was still flirty as always, however his words and actions were more genuine and he showed that he cared for you. And, Osamu spared you some glances and he had light conversations with you about your favorite foods and even offered to cook for you!

Suna warmed up to you after you offered him a chuupet and Aran would “save” you from Atsumu’s endless flirting and poke fun at him for you.

You’re very good at putting people in their place (mostly atsumu) and you are not afraid to stand up to their fangirls. Shutting them up and shooing them away if they cause too much noise in the gym. You shoot them glares if they talked smack about you. And that was probably the first thing the boys noticed about you that they realized you were different.

The members take turns on walking you home just to ensure you get home safely. You would stop by the konbini and get a snack or drink with whoever decided to take you home. You bonded over the snacks, finding out their quirks and what makes each guy unique.

During matches, you always had a thorough game plan with extensive amounts of research to back it up. It surprised the team at first and when it worked they thanked and celebrated your hard-work afterwards to some dinner.

And you’re a silent cheerleader, being manager and all sitting next to the coaches you can’t exactly scream your heart out though you want too. But your eyes would always have a certain gleam and you would smile brightly when they impressed you, those looks are one of the reasons Inarizaki’s boys vb team fight for.

Team dinner’s are CHAOTIC, especially when they won. Nothing can calm them down, not even your constant exclaims to calm down and to be respectful while eating in a public place haha nice try. Despite your scolds, you still feel warm on the inside watching your boys celebrate.

On the other side of the spectrum, if they lost and were down in the dumps you never fail to brighten up the mood with your sweet smile and comforting words to the boys. They treasure your grin and with it they all feel better and motivated to win next time.

Someone’s on your nerves? Always report to Kita. You won’t even blink an eye before you see that someone in the corner with double the drills.

Oh yeah, meet your new personal body guards. Man pray for the next person that eyes you weirdly or insults you. The volleyball team do have a reputation, so once people found out that you were associated with them many would steer clear. Even if you were talking to a guy, that guy would feel knives at the back of his neck from the intense glares from Atsumu or even Ginjima.

If someone made you cried? They no longer exist. At. All. What happened to them you may ask? Kita and his team have nothing to say about it.

Gestures and acts of kindness you commit for them. Such as making their favorite onigiris for them (which are eaten in less than five secs, they loveee your cooking), washing their clothes and always folding them neatly, and always lending an ear to listen to their endless rants about each other haha. You’re not the only one who have their limits when it comes to these guys.

Small gestures are also their thing. Atsumu’s annoying you? Kita’s already shut him up don’t worry. Need help carrying clean laundry? Aran easily carries two baskets. You don’t know what outfit to wear at a party? Atsumu’s already got three different options he wants you to try on. Need help prepping after practice snacks? Osamu’s got tips and tricks and will lend a hand. And if Kita gives you too much responsibilities as manager? Suna will bluntly tell him to lessen it for you.

HEADPATS.

All day everyday, the boys just love to pat you on the head. They just think you’re so adorable and must be protected at all costs.

But at the same time, you look out for your boys too because you only want the best for them like the proud mother you are.

It was a rough start at first, but you feel blessed to be able to manage an amazing, talented group of volleyball players. You consider yourself lucky to see the raw, burning passion in their eyes before practice and games. And you appreciate how much they care and look after you as much as you do them.

They’re your boys! And they’re happy to be considered yours :)

And! Atsumu always steals your phone and spams it with selfies and pics of his fellow teammates. Phone’s flooded and your current homescreen is the image up above ^^ hehe

a/n: work and ap exams got me drained but exams are over so i’ll have more time to write now :) sorry everyone for not being active this past week, i still love y’all!

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fandom-monium · 3 years

Text

For the Holidays - Part 2

Summary: In which Spencer doesn’t want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

WC: 1.8k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), insecure and in-denial Spencer, light cursing, (tbh with all the shit that happens in CM they should be cussing way more)

Spencer doesn’t text you. But he’s tried.

First thing he got home, he tossed his bag aside and ripped off his blazer before he threw himself on the couch, digging through his pockets for his phone. Screw reading, taxes, dinner. There are more important things at stake here.

But he’s been sitting there for an hour, glaring at the empty text box with disdain, willing for words to appear.

No such luck.

Spencer writes essays and academic journals in an hour but formulating a simple text? He curses the universe for only making him academically gifted.

He runs a hand through his hair. Maybe he should call? No, you said text. And he doesn’t trust himself enough to have a verbal conversation with you. He will get tongue-tied.

Shit, what does he even say?

It’s not entirely his fault, alright? He’s never been put in a position like this before, except when he goes undercover. And even then everything is planned for him with little contribution on his part⎼he makes small edits to better fit the profiles but that’s about it. All he has to do is scan the file once and in seconds he has his fake identity, his fake backstory, and whatever fake details make up his fake life.

But this. This is different. He has to be brave because it’s you, and he has to chill out because this is supposed to be fake, he reminds himself. Both are tasks within themselves. And yeah, he’s a genius but as Albert Einstein once said, knowledge has its limits.

Shit, his thoughts are so jumbled he can’t even quote properly. This is all your fault.

You.

He still has to text you.

Spencer groans and flops on the couch, the phone clattering to the floor. He doesn’t bother, laying there until there’s an imprint of his butt in the cushions. He stares at the ceiling.

He remembers that you were the one to say yes. He hadn’t directly asked you but you agreed anyway, which means you are willing to spend time with him. Which means you like him (enough). Which means you are friends, and friends help friends out when they are in trouble.

Like needing a fake date.

He rolls onto his stomach, lips pursed as he stares over the edge of the couch. His phone glints in the lamp light.

Just friends helping each other out. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Spencer takes a deep breath and picks up the phone.

He can do this.

⎼

He can’t do this.

“I’m so excited,” Next to Spencer, you nestle into the seat and adjust the fuzzy blanket over your lap, eyes gleaming. “It’ll be nice to see where you grew up.”

Spencer only offers you a tight smile. His eyes dart about as the other passengers settle in, switching seats and fiddling luggage into the overhead compartments. Some of them already requesting for airplane food. Who in their right mind actually wants airplane food?

Spencer really wants to be as excited as you, and he is; he finally gets to spend some time with you outside of work, without the rest of the team hovering (waiting for one of you to make a damn move). It’s almost nice.

If only he can enjoy himself.

His knee bounces nonstop. Against the armrest his fingers tap a rhythm matching the thrum of his heart. And his hair is even more wild having run his hands through it repeatedly before meeting up with you.

He isn’t used to this, being alone with you. Sure, you partner up at work, in cases⎼hell, you've even accompanied each other to a few events. But those were as friends.

Technically, you’re his date. His romantic partner.

Spencer’s never let himself delve deep into his fantasies; he’s imagined (more times than he’d like to admit) taking you on dates to your favorite places, you in his arms, him in your arms⎼you know, minus the imminent danger. All the sweet things that couples do. But they always seemed out of reach. So he’d cut them off, squash the ideas before they went any further. False hope only hurts if you give in.

But now you’re on a plane, rocking in your seat as you hum to yourself, genuinely thrilled at the prospect of seeing his hometown.

This is more than he’s ever imagined. He feels like his heart’s about to burst.

Someone needs to call the bomb squad, real quick.

“Reid.”

"Hm?"

"Are you alright?" You're looking at him, voice drenched in so much concern his stomach twists. He made you worry. He feels guilty.

“Yeah-uh-” He clears his throat, attempting a smile. It’s a sad parody of the real thing. ”I'm fine.“

You raise an eyebrow and scoff, "Okay, I think I know why you're being weird. At least, weirder than usual."

Spencer’s heart drops. He leans back as you lean across your shared armrest, catching the sympathy in your eyes. He stiffens, bracing himself for the rejection. He should have known sooner or later you’d notice his not-so-friendly affections towards you. Of course you did, he isn’t exactly subtle; all the lunches, the museum tours, the stars in his eyes when you wrestle down unsubs⎼

"You’re nervous about seeing your old classmates again."

⎼Or, he’s much better at hiding it than he thought.

Spencer can only watch in awe as you continue, “And it’s totally natural. I mean, I haven’t been to a reunion, but I’d feel weird too if I got to see my classmates after all these years. But have no fear, (Your Name) is here.” You cringe, suddenly abashed. “Unless I’m completely off the mark and now you regret bringing me along. Oh no, that’s it, isn’t? You’re uncomfortable with the whole couples act.”

Spencer shakes his head, and for the first time since take off, he chuckles, “What? No, I’m happy that you’re here. And I couldn't think of anyone better to play my partner.” A relieved smile from you and he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. He fiddles with his sleeve. “But yeah, you got me. I am nervous.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie. You're here, next to him. That's more than enough reason to be.

If he had to be honest, between you and organizing the trip, he almost forgot about the reunion. Then again, he never liked reflecting on his high school years. For obvious reasons.

But your perception is a bucket of ice water over his head. Now he’s wide awake.

You’re doing this because you’re friends. You just want to help.

Friendship never hurt so much.

“I didn’t mention it before, but I’m sure you’re aware I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in school, being 6 years younger and all,” Spencer swallows the ache. You nod in understanding.

Bright, brown eyes meet yours. He bites his lip. “So, I appreciate you coming with me. It’ll be nice... having a friend there.”

A split second.

Spencer glances away as he says 'friend'. The word leaves such a bittersweet taste he has to hold back a grimace, look anywhere else but you. The word just doesn’t sit right with him.

If he hadn’t looked away, he would have caught the way your smile dropped.

You nearly forgot, though you’re on holiday, this is a mission of sorts. This isn’t about you or how you feel. This is about Spencer. You berate yourself, remembering you're not a teenager anymore; you're a fucking adult and mature adults don't squee at their coworkers.

No matter how cute and adorable they are.

“Of course,” You plaster on a smile and finger the edge of your blanket, unintentionally mirroring him. "Your welcome."

Spencer gives you that white-person smile you love so much. You have to bite back a laugh.

To distract yourself, you pull out your phone and open the Chess app, holding it out to him. "Now, how about that rematch?"

Spencer's face lights up like a Christmas tree.

And as you immerse yourselves into another close match, you feel your confidence grow with every move, chuckling as Reid grumbles about you cheating (you’re not, he’s just a sore loser). You’re an FBI agent, for fuck’s sake. You played spouse and romantic partners for weeks, months. A weekend is nothing.

You can manage playing pretend with a coworker. Just operate like this is any other undercover assignment.

You can pretend you’re in love with Spencer Reid. You can handle it.

You can handle it.

⎼

You can’t handle it.

As one would expect, it’s hard to not fall in love with Spencer Reid. Just as it’s hard not to show it.

It feels like only yesterday the lanky man quite literally stumbled his way into your world and you decided, ‘Him. I will protect him with my life.’ And while you’d totally do that for anyone on the team, with Reid, it hits different.

After you landed in Las Vegas, you had a couple hours to kill before the reunion started, and as the good friend and partner you are, you suggested he show you all the places he frequented when he was little. For research, of course. After all, you’re playing his partner, so the more you know the better.

It’s definitely not because you’re invested in his life. Because that would be unprofessional.

(The way he beamed at you was totally worth it though.)

Then one step in the direction of his favorite eatery and he slipped on a patch of ice. You caught him in time, but the way he looked at you, brown eyes wide and filled with awe, made you feel things you shouldn't feel for a coworker.

It only snowballed from there. Everything about him is just so… endearing.

But you’re at your limit.

Love and affection threatens to spill out of you. Your hands flex in your coat pockets, itching to grab Spencer’s pretty face. Even your chest aches from your heart having swollen twice its size. You feel like you’re about to explode.

This might be the most difficult mission you’ve ever worked.

But this is it, you realize as you stand in front of the closed auditorium doors. This is the final lap. Where everything you’ve practiced really matters. You just have to keep up the charade for a few hours, then you won’t have to struggle to fight back the hearts in your eyes.

Although, your clothes fit tighter than you remember and you’re trembling. Why the fuck are you trembling?

Next to you Spencer eyes the double doors, almost like he’s daunted by them.

Multi-colored lights filter into the dark hallway, silhouettes flickering and shifting from the crack under the door as cheery holiday music faintly streams from behind them, accompanied by shouts and laughter. From his old classmates. Who are most likely making jokes at his expense.

Spencer already wants to go home.

“Ready, Doc?” As if sensing his hesitation, you offer a smile and an arm to him. Your eyes gleam with resolve. It’s more than enough for the both of you.

You can do this.

A deep breath, he slips his arm into yours. “Yep.”

He can do this.

Together, you open the doors.

AN: 2/4??

note: don’t expect part 3 to come out as quick. it’ll contain panic/anxiety descriptions and id like to take my time to write it best :))) i hope you enjoyed the last bit of happiness for a while :))))

also i apologize that i havent gotten to all the requests!! the ones posted on my masterlist are the ones currently being dealt with, but i’ll get through them eventually thx for the patience :D

i remember seeing a post ab Hotch x Prentiss and I didn’t get it but watching CM over again

i get it i so get it. when theyve both gone to each other’s homes? *tears up*

and my hate for seaver has been reinforced :)))))

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gray gubler imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid

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eyoricka · 3 years

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Secret dating - Pete Davidson x singer!reader

First thing, I am sorry for my rather long absence I was moving to another country and way to stress. But now I have to spend ten days in quarantine so I will try to catch up and write all the asks I received in the meantime. So sorry for the delay and I hope the waiting will worth it!!

Also this is the first part of a small series about Pete x singer!reader because I had few asks on this theme! Hope you will enjoy

Words: 1600+

Warning: none I guess

You had been dating Pete for few months. You decided to keep it low profile. It wasn’t really a secret; your friends and families were aware that you were together but you didn’t want the whole world to know. You had seen Pete’s debacle with his exes, and he witnessed yours. You both agreed to not to make it public this soon since you wanted to avoid paps, gossips articles, harassment online and to hear everybody’s opinion. You were surprised that no one caught the two of you or speculated on your relationship. Maybe the both of you being friends for years, evolving within the same circle of people helped you. When people saw the two of you strolling, getting ice cream together, no magazines titled about how cute this date was but rather on how good it was for you to have such good friends in your life.

These past couple of weeks, it had been hard to spend some quality time with Pete. You had to flew to LA to assist to the Grammys and you missed your boyfriend so much through out the ceremony. You wished that you could have hold his hands during the stressful waiting, kissed him when you heard your name, thanked him when you gave your acceptance speech or feel his hand drawing absurd figure in your back to relax you while you were waiting to perform. Then after going back to New York, you hadn’t had that much time. Your publicist had packed you with interviews and gigs during late night shows. It was tiring but worth it. Your career was on a clear path to success. You were finally considered as not another pop star but one of the biggest artists out there. Pete was so supportive of you. You lived for his lovely text messages to give you strength before each performance or his compliments on how beautiful you looked on TV, how smart your answers were, how funny you were during an interview game.

You had eventually managed to find an afternoon just for you and Pete. You enjoyed a home-cooked meal at his place and could help but melt every time he was laughing while recounting his week. You simply spend the rest of the afternoon watching cartoons. It was your way to decompress together. Pete would always prepare some snacks while you set everything up. Then you would lose at least ten minutes to choose which cartoons or movies to watch. You usually had long debate on whether SpongeBob was better than Scooby-doo. Pete would always take you in his arms while you were watching, peppering your neck with kisses and smelling your hair. He liked the smell of your shampoo arguing that it reminded him of happiness. That was so cliché and yet so adorable, you couldn’t make fun of this cheesiness.

You were slowly falling asleep engulfed by Pete’s warmth, this was cozy, it felt like home. Suddenly, you heard your phone buzzed and sighed. It was your agent, asking you where you were to pick you up to go an interview. You texted her your address while you looked for something to put on for the TV. You liked very much the clothes you had on but you doubted that their shades would be nice on camera. As you were researching the perfect outfit in underwear, trying on several combo, you congratulated yourself for letting some clothes at your boyfriend’s place. You were hesitating between two tops and asked Pete’s opinion. After a quick joke on how good you looked in underwear and that you probably should go like this, he made up his mind for the baby blue top.

You rushed outside to be picked by your team but not before sharing a sweet but passionate kiss with Pete and agreeing to spend the night at your place after the show. Your team smiled at you knowingly as you entered the car but they didn’t make any comment on your relationship. You discussed the show, the possible questions and what the best answers would be… The ride was pretty quiet after that and you soon arrived at the building where the show was taped. You were warmly welcomed by the host. You had already done some interviews with him, he was easy to talk to, always made you comfortable and was rather fun to be around. He lead you to the make-up artist trailer who didn’t fail to notice your tired look but promised you that it was nothing than a bit of foundation and powder could hide. Indeed, after only 15 minutes there you were glowing, looking fresh, like a fairytale princess leaving her bed.

As you were waiting to be called on stage, you received a message from Pete telling you that he was excited to see you on the show, that no matter what you were the best and that he was eager to see you tonight to finish the nap you had started together. You quickly replied before entering the stage. The interview went rather smoothly. You had begun with questions about your last album and upcoming project teasing a possible collab with Taylor Swift. The crowd went wild at this info and you knew that you would certainly end up in top tweets. After a commercial, you played a game with the host where you had to sing a random song imitating another artist. Clearly, it was not your forte, but you were funny enough to make it a good moment to watch. Then, you proceeded to answers some more interrogations from the public that could be found on social media. Those questions were a lot more personal and globally more focused on your art, compositions, writing skills, inspiration. You were passionate, your eyes were big with enthusiasm and you did a lot of gesture with your hand with made the host smile.

You were so happy that when a question about your dating life came up, you didn’t think twice before saying “Well I am the luckiest person, I have my dream career and dating Pete Davidson is just the cherry on the top, you know. He is just so perfect for me, like me understand and support each other, it just so great when you can share all those moments with someone you love and trust.” As you finished your rant, you noticed how the host was staggered. You finally realized what you had revealed and blushed furiously. “Did you just announce publicly that you are dating SNL cast member Pete Davidson?”. It was like words were dying in your throat and you envisioned Pete’s reaction at this. Surely it was not how you had planned to go public. You nodded shyly and the show stopped there. The host thanks the audience who was visibly thrilled, and you made your way backstage. You compulsively checked your phone every five seconds waiting for a text from your now very public boyfriend. But none came and it was worse. You felt so bad, you never wanted to put him in such a position, you were not sure that he was ready to go public, face the world’s reaction but here you were because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

Your team drove you back to your place assuring you that it was okay, he couldn’t be mad at you for this but actually he legitimately could. They insist that you should check your social media, people were very supportive of you, saying that you were so cute together, goals… however you didn’t think that it was a good idea right now, you head spinning with the prospect to face Pete.

You silently entered your house waiting for Pete to arrive, a huge lump in your stomach. You felt so guilty, obviously you had to ruin everything, didn’t you. You were in your kitchen drinking a hot cocoa to calm your nerve when you heard Pete unlocked your front door with his spare keys. You didn’t dare to approach him and let him come in the room, your hands shaking so bad that you had spilled some hot beverage on it. You didn’t really feel the burning sensation, you were too scared of what he would say. To make it even more torturing he remained silent as he glanced at you. he eventually approached you and put away your cup as he took your injured hand in his. He put it under cold water and you let him do it, not understanding what was happening. “Do you think that I hate you or that I am angry at you for making it public without talking about it first?” he stated more than questioned as he stood behind you with his hand on yours. “Yes” you sighed looking down. He made you turned to face him and since you were still not looking at him, he put gently his hand on your face and lift it up. His face was so calm and soft, not what you were expecting at all. “I don’t mind, I mean sure it would have been better to discuss it and find a way together to announce it but you didn’t did on purpose. You were just so excited and you didn’t really think of it so I can’t blame you. I certainly would have done the same. Also, how I can be mad at someone who is so cute and so adorable when talking about me. You know what you say about us, it means a lot to me, a lot more than you can imagine. I love you, okay, and I don’t care if the whole world knows as long as you know it.” He smiled down at you and brushed away some tears that you hadn’t realize where rolling down your face. He cusped your cheeks and kissed your forehead as you buried yourself in his shirt.

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfic #pete davidson imagine #snl fanfic #fluff

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