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#like did we just forget about the agents
showtoonzfan · 11 months
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I really am starting to notice a pattern in Helluva Boss:
1. Introduce new character that’s a threat or antagonist
2. Have them disappear for episodes and never be mentioned by the main characters or acknowledged, not affecting the main narrative at all.
3. Insert Stolitz episode or filler episode with the characters the exact same and never changing or adapting
4. Bring said antagonistic character back in the most underwhelming way possible
Repeat.
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s735 · 9 months
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7/20/23
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I got around to reading Dragon Ball and DBZ for the first time recently. Raditz, Nappa and Vegeta are my faves. I wish we saw more of them before they died.
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kindaorangey · 1 month
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OKAYYYY IVE WATCHED THE NEW INVINCIBLE EPISODE NOW. the mark and amber plot and the developments on the viltrumite invasion plot were soooooo interesting this show can really hit when it wants to huh
#thunder rambles#i mean i know we all knew that. i just forget sometimes when we have an extended scene about mark reading nolan's shitty pulp novels#and also when mark and his roommate slash best friend havent interacted onscreen since two episodes ago#when said best friend accused mark of ditching him for his gf💀#like i hope that wasnt just a throwaway joke please invincible please follow through on the friendship angst#lets pile on the heartbreak for mark lets fucking do it lets have his best friend take him to task in the exact same way amber just did#william has a different angle for it as well since mark not responding to him meant william had to deal with his bf threatening to khs#by calling a goddamn government agent#like this boy has 0 friends#side note its actually so smart for william's list of who to call in a crisis with rick be 1) mark and 2) donald#like yeah maybe the police are more likely to respond but donald is 1000 times more qualified to deal with that crisis#smart boy. and yet hes so one dimensional its not even funny#rick and donald are finishing their character arcs and exploring the fucked up effects of scifi trauma#meanwhile william: 🚹#i dont have the man_standing emoji on my phone so i had to put the male toilet sign💀#anyway yeah. after mark has to confront the existence of his evil alternate universe selves#and the life of his mother and brother being threatened#lets force him once again to choose between big-picture world-saving duty and the needs of someone human whom he loves!#this time - william edition!#invincible
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wild-at-mind · 3 months
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Listened to the podcast series 'Eight years hard Labour' which is about the Corbyn years of Labour, and they talk a lot about the Labour party internal divide- there was the internal right wing, who were more like centrists, and the internal left wing, which was the Corbyn side. To tell you where I stand on this man: I voted for Labour, and therefore Corbyn, in both the 2017 and 2019 elections but was absolutely not part of his cult of personality, and I found it disturbing how devoted people got so quickly. Mainly the leftist queer people section of my social circle were doing a LOT of facebook meme posting in the run up to particularly the 2019 election. I could literally look down my feed and see a very long, very detailed defense of how Corbyn could not possibly be even the teeniest bit antisemitic, and below that a different Corbyn devotee would be proclaiming that the only reason Jewish Brits would not vote for Corbyn was because they were all too wealthy. I mean....what more conclusion could I possibly draw from that?? I do not care to get caught in the weeds of whether Corbyn knew what was in the fucking mural or not before saying it shouldn't have been removed, and I know the tabloids really did do plenty of smear jobs on him, but the fact that I could see his devoted supporters becoming antisemitic before my eyes was incredibly damning and was all I needed really. Anyway, obviously Corbyn lost the 2019 election by a massive amount and it was a surprise to literally no one except Corbyn's fans who had been in social media meme echo chambers the whole time. Corbyn left the Labour party and now we have Starmer who leaves a lot to be desired, but is still the head of the most left wing mainstream party. But it made me think- what hope is there for left wing politics in the UK? Can we ever hope for a hard left of the left leaning party that doesn't go off in these weird antisemitic, Putin defending directions? (Oh god...imagine Corbyn being PM during the Ukraine war. :S) Do we always have to settle for centrism just to be on the left of the Tories? We have had leftist governments in our history that brought in genuine social change, the formation of the NHS being the biggest example, so it is possible, but why are things so right wing now, and for so long, especially while things are so objectively shitty for so many people? I don't expect anyone has any answers but I want to hope for better. There are massive limitations to party politics, but I'm not an anarchist and I do think running the country is a job someone has to do. I don't know how to make things better, I just know that genuine compassion for all people is needed in order to do it, not just some people, and I don't know if hard left conspiracy types can ever feel that for people they consider their enemy.
#uk politics#i'm just rambling#btw i did comment on both the corbyn defense screed and the 'jews are all rich' screed (2nd one unfriended also)#1st one i said maybe with the same effort someone made in making this long defense corbyn should put that effort into#meeting Jewish populations in the uk and reassuring them! The person posting it was even like '...oh yeah he probably should shouldn't he'#the corbyn campaign in 2019 was a mess anyway which the podcast goes into in more detail#btw the putin defending part comes from Corbyn's response to the poisoning of the Skripals#he said there was no reason to think it was russia and also said we should send the nerve agent to russia for testing#i'm not saying we should be like 'omg red scare russia is attacking!!!!' but there was evidence to suggest it was putin#which only became more clear- not to mention the accidental death of Dawn Sturgess which happened not long after as a consequence#genuinely so fucked up! this all happened in my hometown and the surrounding area so it's particularly close to home#Corbyn just reacted super weirdly to the whole thing- he was the leader of the labour party but behaving like an online commentator#which i assume is a plus for some and a minus for most#i've tried joining a local socialist group twice now and they are pushing for a socialist party in government#but it's all super corbyn-y vibes with them- i swear it takes very little for them to start ranting about how corbyn was smeared or w/e#like...can we move on from this please!!!#and lessons learned- forget it!#anyway i'm done rambling now.
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crossbackpoke-check · 2 years
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bring a friend home today! adopt, don’t shop 🐶@metroitdetroitanimals 6.28.2022
#vladislav namestnikov#dallas stars#be the red wings content you want to see in the world i guess#absolutely devastated by these thanks. it’s been like a week and i’m finally able to post this because i had such an unreasonable reaction 😭#we don’t need to talk about the fact that i liked this it’s fine just ignore it & instead we can not talk abt how i went 🥹🥹 vladdy came home#realized. that i typed be the ‘red wings’ content you want to see right when i needed to type the tags & move them so they show up &. he’s.#i was trying to be clever with the caption but my entire brain just kept wailing ‘BRING HIM HOMEEEEEEE’ but actually now that i look w/ the#draft coming up… adopt don’t shop bring vladdy home we can buy a new little defenseman at the store we already have centers at the shelter#all of the terrible articles i have been reading that are like ‘why the red wings should acquire claude giroux’ and i’m like actually yeah#we can adopt that one guys!! adopt don’t shop!!! also should mention i was reading an article about what free agents yzerman should sign &#it wasn’t even about vladdy for the main one but it was some dude & at the bottom of each profile they had like ‘other options’ and for one#of them one of the other options was just ‘vladislav namestnikov�� & i did screenshot it & highlight it & cry bc i love him & i still forget#that vladdy isn’t a red wing anymore. like my brain simply REFUSES to acknowledge it every time it hits me all over again he’s in dallas now#dallas stop taking the men i love & ruining my narratives i want you to put them back#detroit ride or die forever & always#vladdy with DOGSSSS have y’all SEEN his little frenchie he and fabs are frenchie besties please you need to bring them back together#just like how aspen & millie are girlfriends & if you won’t bring moe back for the team’s sake do it for the dogs like what about ellie????#vladdy coming back to support the charity he picked back when he was still a wing makes me (oozing pile of tears in the middle of the marsh)#vibes of pk STILL being one of the biggest supporters of the montreal children’s hospital except it’s not little kids it’s an animal shelter#to explain to you the extent that i have not stopped thinking about this post the other day when i was at work i was thinking about how mtl#did like a ‘tourists in mtl’ thing & was like okay but i want them to take the mojoe show around to show people detroit but then i went wait#do you remember connor’s farm workout like what hockeys do i want to see on a farm & i immediately went ‘VLADDY’ like can’t you just see it#he would just be absolutely delighted to be on a farm & he’d be so excited to see all the animals & i want them all to take a trip to belle#isle & go to the aquarium & the conservancy & i just think that vladdy would love hanging out w/goats & then i had to go ‘hE’S nOt On ThE-’#what i’m saying is: detroit bring vladdy home so that i can see him hang out with cool animals. i want to take vladdy to the zoo#he seems really nice & he would sit at one enclosure with me for four hours & we would just watch them chill out & he should come home pls
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nereidprinc3ss · 25 days
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do you believe me now? | 2
in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem
part one | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')
When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 
When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 
It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 
But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 
Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.
“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 
“Not hungry.”
You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 
“Alright... well, I was thinking—“
“Why haven’t we had sex?”
The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 
“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”
Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 
“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”
God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 
“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”
“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 
He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 
“You know that’s not how I feel.”
You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 
“No. No, I don’t know that.”
Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 
“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”
You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.
“So why won’t you prove it?”
It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 
“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”
He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 
So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 
“And how do you think I should prove it?”
“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 
“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”
“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”
Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”
“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 
He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 
When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 
“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”
“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 
An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 
“Is this a pinky-promise?”
“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 
“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”
You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 
The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  
It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  
“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 
“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”
It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”
This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 
“Spencer…”
“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”
The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 
“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”
Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 
“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”
“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”
“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”
Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 
“What if you don’t like how I look?”
Spencer doesn’t even blink.
“That’s not going to happen.”
How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 
“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”
“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”
As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 
“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”
His eyebrows raise. 
“You’re not.”
“But what if I am?”
“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”
“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”
A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 
“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 
“Thank you.”
You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 
“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”
“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”
The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 
“So… no breakup?”
It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 
“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”
“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 
“Not right now,” he agrees. 
His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.
After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 
“Sit down.”
It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 
“Without you?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”
You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 
“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
You expel a frustrated huff. 
“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”
He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 
“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”
“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 
How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 
“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 
“I’m working on it.”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”
Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 
“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”
“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 
“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”
You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 
“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 
“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”
“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 
“You don’t like being teased, huh?”
“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 
“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”
You push your fingers into his soft hair. 
“I know.”
It was a lucky guess. 
He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 
“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”
“What if I…”
You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 
“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”
“Love is a pretty strong word.”
“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”
The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 
“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”
As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 
“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 
“Mhm.”
“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”
His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 
“No.”
Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”
Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 
“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 
“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”
“Really? How?”
Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 
“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”
“It is on you,” you huff. 
You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 
“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”
A stammering nod. 
He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  
“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”
“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 
“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”
Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 
“Yes please.”
“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”
Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 
“Okay.”
Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 
Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 
You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 
Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 
This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”
Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 
He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 
Thankfully, he delivers. 
The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 
There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 
So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 
“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”
The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 
“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 
“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”
“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 
“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”
Well, shit. 
He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 
“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 
“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”
Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 
The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 
Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 
Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 
Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 
Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”
“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”
“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”
You whine.
“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”
Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 
“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”
Something flickers in your core. 
Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 
“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”
That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 
“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.
“I would love to.”
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bet-on-me-13 · 17 days
Text
Wes ruins everything
Wes had finally done it, he had finally realized why nobody ever belived him about Fenton and Phantom! It made so much sense now, he had been looking for an answer for years, thinking he was going crazy because everybody refused to see the Obvious!
He was Cursed!
He literally had an Ancestoral Curse on his Bloodline that made it so that all those born with the gift of Prophecy would be ignored! A Gift of Prophecy that he apparently had.
It was Cassandra's Curse, the one from Greek Myths. Apparently she was his Great×1000 Grandmother and passed down the Gift (and Curse) of Prophecy to him. And he knew how to break it!
All he needed to do was gather the right resources, chant the correct incantations, make sure not to accidentally summon a Demon in the process, and he could just foist the Curse onto some other poor schmuck. Sure it would suck for them, and he would loose his Gift of Prophecy, but Wes had been ignored for Years at this point, he needed validation!
So he did the Ritual, and he didn't mess it up, and he managed to get rid of the Curse.
Now all he had to do was convince everybody that he was right for the first time in his life! This was going to be great!
...
Cass didn't know what was going on.
A while ago, she had started getting these...gut feelings that she couldn't explain.
She would look over the details of a Case her Family was working on, and see a patern that the others were seemingly ignoring. Like when she realized that The Penguin was about to raid the Docks on the East Side, but the others were convinced it was going to be on the West.
But when she had tried to tell them, they had brushed her off. "We've already concluded that he will begin the Raid on the West side, no need to go to the East."
She had gone anyways, and low and behold she had been right. But nobody even acknowledged that she had been right at all, they had just wondered how they had missed the signs, not even questioning how she had known.
It wasn't limited to Cases either. Even small things, like telling her brother's where the TV remote was were brushed off, and hours later they would still be looking, never even having checked where she told them.
It seemed that no matter what, nobody cared about her point of view anymore. They kept brushing her off, telling her she was wrong, actively ignoring her ideas.
And it was getting worse. They were starting to ignore her more and more, forgetting she was in the room, not calling her down for Dinner, even forgetting to check in on her during Patrol.
She knew that there must be something going on, Magical or otherwise, but when she tried bringing it up with her Dad or JLD, they would also Brush her off.
Her Family was forgetting her. And they didn't even realize it.
...
Danny was not okay at the moment.
When he had gone to school a few weeks ago and noticed everybody staring at him, he didn't give it much thought. Maybe Dash or Paulina had spread another Rumor about him again, not too out of the ordinary.
When his name had been called over the Intercom, he hadn't thought much of that either. His grades were falling even more than usual, so he assumed his Guidance Counselor wanted to have another talk with him.
When he walked into the Principals Office to see both of his Parents and some GIW Agents, that's when he realized something big must have happened.
He didn't have much of a chance to react when the Shields went up, but he did react when the first Ecto-Blast scorched the wall behind him. His Parents began to scream at him as they fired their Blasters, something about replacing somebody? He didn't know, he was pretty preoccupied at the moment.
It took more effort than he cared to admit to escape the Room, but a stray shot to the hidden Shield Projector under the Principals Desk proved to be his saving grace. Unfortunately the moment he escaped the Office, he was met with a veritable Army of GIW Agents, all armed to the Teeth with Weapons he had never even seen before.
He managed to get away for a moment, hiding in the Bathroom as the Agents chasing him passed it by. That's when he met Wes.
He obviously hadn't been expecting him, but the moment he saw him Wes put on a smug look. "Oh hi Fenton, trying to get away from the other students?"
Danny had replied with confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I finally managed to convince everybody about you, now everyone knows that you're Phantom! I'll bet you're hiding from all of the other Students hounding you for questions right?"
"...it was you?"
"Yeah, so? I finally get to be right!"
"...You absolute MORON-"
That was the last Danny got to say to Wes before an Ecto-Blast launched him through a Wall, seeing his face morph into a look of Shock just before the dust cloud covered it up.
Since that day, Danny had been on the Run. Nowhere was safe anymore now that the GIW knew both his Human and Ghost's faces, but he had to keep running. He crossed state Lines already, and was on his way to the next Ecto-Rich City he could sense, somewhere in New Jersey.
He cursed his Fenton Luck every day. Why had everybody believed Wes this time?! Nobody had ever belived him before, nobody even seemed to acknowledge his existence after a while! What had changed?
Danny just wanted to rest already.
...
Cass had taken to Patrolling alone recently. She had taken to doing a lot of things alone, actually.
After the first month, it seemed that nobody could remember that she was in the room with them, even if she was within their eyeline, she just faded into the background. By the 2 Month Mark they had stopped talking to her entirely, although occasionally she would get a Text or two from her dad. By the 3 month Mark she was completely invisible, and By the 5th she had been forced to get used to it.
She didn't know what was going on, was it a Meta Ability? Magic? Alien Tech? She had no idea.
She had begun to cook for herself after the first time Alfred forgot to set her Plate at the Table. The same with Washing her own Clothes, Cleaning her Room, and Paying her Phone Bills. At the very least the Automated Allowance Payments to her Account had kept up, or she wouldn't have been able to go to her favorite Cafe anymore.
It was bittersweet for her. She used to go to that Cafe every week with Alfred, but he didn't even come on his own anymore. Had he only come for her? Did she really mean that much to them? It hurt, she finally had a family that cared for her and suddenly she didn't exist to them.
She sat alone at a Table, ignored by everyone in the Cafe as usual, when a new face walked in. He looked about her age, a little roughed up, walking with a sort of cautious gaint, as if he was scared of something. His Body Language seemed to agree with her assessment, as his body practically screamed "Worry" in its movements.
Cass stopped watching at that point. Just another Gotham Teen, probably worried over something like getting not having enough money or getting mugged on the way home. It was a Common sight in Gotham.
She attention was pricked again for a moment when she heard a voice speak up. "Uh, can I sit here?"
She ignored it, he wasn't talking to her.
"Um, excuse me? Miss? Could I sit here?" He repeated.
She ignored him again, he wasn't talking to her. Nobody talked to her.
"Hello? Do you have Earbuds in?" He said, and he waved his hand in front of her face.
Her face. He waved his hand. In front of Her Face.
He was talking to her.
She looked up at him sharply, seeming to startle him for a moment before he asked, "So, is that a no?"
"You can see me?" She asked.
He looked a bit bewildered, but replied "Uh, yeah? Why would I not? Are you...a Ghost?". That last part sounded a bit suspicious.
"No. Not a Ghost. But nobody sees me. Ever. Nobody remembers me." She replied. She had never spoken this much to anybody outside of her Family, but in the past few weeks she had been starved for interaction.
He seemed slightly interested, and sat down at her table. He looked her in the eyes, and said "Do you...talk about it?"
She smiled. He could see her.
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silencesscreams · 5 months
Text
i can see you
james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)
summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.
a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift
warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation
for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.
you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.
“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.
“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.
“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.
as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.
“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.
“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”
“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.
“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.
“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”
it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?
“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.
“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.
“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.
james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.
-
your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.
the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.
you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.
you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.
and then there was james.
james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.
when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.
sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?
as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.
-
you felt like you could kill him.
after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.
but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.
you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.
"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.
"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.
“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“
“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.
“i told you, they were really good.”
if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turn red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.
you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.
he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.
he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.
he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pijamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.
he even shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.
the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.
maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.
“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.
“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.
“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.
“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.
“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”
“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.
“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”
“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”
“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”
“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.
you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.
-
as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.
you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.
on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.
when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.
you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-
giggles.
there were giggles coming from your room.
and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.
you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.
“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”
“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.
you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.
“thank you, have a nice night”
you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.
you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.
“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“
“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.
“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.
“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”
“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?
“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?
“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?
“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“
“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.
you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.
“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.
it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.
“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.
“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.
you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.
his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.
you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?
once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.
maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.
he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.
you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.
you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.
“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.
“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something your phone.
you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.
you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.
“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“
“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.
“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.
fuck.
you were going to share the damn blanket.
he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.
was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.
you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.
you could have died right there.
he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.
‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.
you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.
you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.
the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.
you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how could be so sweet, funny and nice.
after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.
he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.
you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.
you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.
everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want read it in the moment.
“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.
“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.
“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.
“yeah” remus answered, smiling.
“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sat next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.
“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”
they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.
once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.
they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.
“can i stay with you fot the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.
“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the couches arm.
“yeah?” the guy answered.
“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.
“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?
“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.
“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.
“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.
“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.
“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.
“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.
“really? what does he say?”
“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.
“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”
“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.
“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.
“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.
for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.
he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.
did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?
goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.
it made you feel crazy, it really did.
you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.
the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.
you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-
you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.
‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’
you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.
you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.
“y/n?” he was looking at you now.
fuck.
“yeah?”
“you look really good tonight.”
“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.
“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?
“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.
“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.
he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.
the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.
you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.
kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.
he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.
“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea for how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.
he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.
he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.
when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.
“james…” you let out as he bit you again.
“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.
“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.
“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.
“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.
he was big.
you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).
he was on his knees, towering over you.
“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.
“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, specially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.
he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.
he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.
“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.
“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.
“take it off”
“what?” you’re confused.
“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.
“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?
“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.
you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.
“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.
“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.
“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.
“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.
“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.
“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.
“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.
“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.
“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”
“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.
“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.
“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.
“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.
“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.
“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.
he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.
“jaaames” you would whine
“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.
if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.
“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.
“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.
you were in ecstasy.
“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.
“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.
“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.
“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.
“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.
your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.
as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.
“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.
his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.
he made sure he got rid of every single drop.
your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.
“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.
“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.
“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.
“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.
“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.
2K notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
Note
Hi girl ❤️ inhope it's ok to send in a request. i thought of something where the reader is working at the Avengers Compound and trains new agents, but one of them grows fond of her and like creeps up on her or follows her around all the time. Soon Bucky noticed that and decides to help. As the guy then again waits up on you and gets too close for Bucky's liking, he steps in between and kisses you passionately, making the creep leave and takes you by surprise. But what started as only some help, continues in Bucky's bedroom, revealing hidden feelings and passion 😏 i hope this is ok with you ❤️
we could've done it earlier
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: +18❗️creepy men, protective Bucky, smut, friends to lovers, idiots in love, dirty talk, unprotected sex
Author's note: well, that was fun to write. I hope you'll like it and that I saw the vision right. thank you for the request💘
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You rolled your eyes again when you noticed that Kevin’s eyes stayed on your body for way too long. You had just finished another session of training with the new recruits from S.H.I.E.L.D. and everything was fine—most of them were really talented and eager to learn, but that one guy had acted super weird since the day Fury introduced you. 
He always gave you weird looks, tried to flirt with you during the training and you swore that he was following you around the tower because you “accidentally” bumped into him and ended up in the same room more times than you could count. 
You decided to forget about it for today and took a quick shower in the gym, and after changing your sweaty clothes, you went to the kitchen on Avenger’s floor to grab a snack. 
You didn’t even have time to look through the cupboards when you saw a figure in the corner of your eye walking towards you. 
“Mind some company?” Kevin stepped closer to you with that creepy smile on his face and scanned your body up and down once again.
“What are you doing here? It’s Avenger’s quarters; you shouldn’t be here.” You crossed your arms over your chest to hide from his stare. 
“Well, I thought they could make an exception for me, especially since my favorite trainer lives here.” He stepped closer and you instantly stepped back. Yes, you were one of the Avengers, but it didn’t change the fact that he was a man who clearly had bad intentions towards you, so your body and mind worked differently around him. “And I also thought we could do something together, if you know what I’m talking about.” 
“I don’t know what you are talking about, and I’m not interested in whatever you are suggesting. Please don’t overstep the line. I’m your trainer and nothing more.” You tried to talk firmly and confidently, even though your whole body was tensed from Kevin’s almost predatory stare. “I-I have a boyfriend. Don’t try to do anything.”
“You’re lying. I know that you want me. And I want you–” Kevin wanted to get closer to you, but a certain Super Soldier appeared out of nowhere, stood between you and him, and kissed you. 
Bucky was watching this whole scene from the beginning. He also saw how that guy was following you around and just staring at you shamelessly. 
Bucky had a crush on you since the day you met, but he didn’t try to change things between you, being too scared that you wouldn't ever talk to him again. At first, he thought that there were mutual feelings between you and Kevin because you were so sweet to everyone, but the more he paid attention, the more he noticed how uncomfortable you would get every time you spotted Kevin in the same room. 
So when Bucky saw him following you once again, and this time being even more persistent, he knew that he should save you. 
So he just stepped in and kissed you.
Was it stupid? Probably. Did he regret doing it? Not in the slightest way. 
Your whole body froze, and your mind was overloaded with the unknown feeling of Bucky’s lips and his hands on your face while he was slowly kissing you. He kissed you as if he had all the time in the world, and as if Kevin, who was clearly confused and angry, was not standing right behind him.
Bucky slightly pulled away, not letting go of your face, and looked back at Kevin. “Do you have a problem with my girlfriend?” His stare could scare anyone, and the way all the color washed away from Kevin’s made him feel weirdly satisfied.
He looked back at you, not missing how your pupils were dilated and your mouth was slightly open in shock, before he captured your lips in another kiss. Now it was not so sweet, though. Bucky was clearly dominating over you, biting your lip and then licking it with his tongue. 
You both didn’t notice how Kevin left. Too lost in each other’s touches, scents, and lips. It was addicting.
“I’m sorry for doing it without permission. Just wanted to scare him away from you.” Bucky mumbled against your lips, yet he didn’t move, not even an inch away from your body. Your eyes lowered to his lips, already craving to feel them again. And Bucky understood it straightaway. “Tell me to stop.” He knew that he was fucked up. Before, he was just observing you and trying to suppress his feelings, but now that he had finally touched and kissed you, he couldn’t hide it anymore. 
Your head was feeling fuzzy, while your hands were clenching onto Bucky’s shirt. You could barely understand what he was saying to you, but that familiar heat in your stomach appeared again, as it did every time he called you “doll” or smiled.
“Please don’t…” You whine, pulling him even closer. “I want you. I need you, Buck.” You kissed him this time, raising one hand to bury it in his fluffy and soft hair. Bucky moaned in your mouth when you slightly dragged your nails along his scalp. 
He gripped your waist with both of his hands and then let the metal one slide down to the back side of your thigh. Bucky mumbled a raspy “jump”, and you, without hesitation, followed his command, wrapping your legs around his waist. 
You both moaned when your clothed core met the hardness in his jeans. As if it were an instinct, you moved your hips, trying to do something to relieve that aching feeling in your body.
“Stop moving, or I’ll fuck you right in this kitchen, doll.” 
It was shameful how quickly you would’ve agreed to do that. 
After firmly settling you in place, Bucky went to his room without a struggle, carrying your weight and kissing the heated skin of your neck. As soon as the door was closed and you were gently placed on a perfectly made bed, you both became even more greedy for each other. 
Tugging clothes, pulling hair, and biting each other’s lips and skin. Bucky's firm body was pressing against yours, and you nearly drowned in the mattress. Bucky's cock became even harder when he finally got a good look at your face—half-closed eyes, smollen red lips, completely messed-up hair. You looked fucking majestic.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N. Fuck, I wanted to do it for so long.” He said it harshly, trying to catch a breath. 
“Me too. Me too, Bucky… Oh God, it almost hurts.” You tried to move your lower body upwards to grind yourself on something, but Bucky just smirked at you and pinned you back to the bed. 
“Be patient and let me have my time with you, doll.”
“Not now, please. James. I need it. Just fuck me. We can do whatever you want later. ” You almost cried, your hands sliding under Bucky’s shirt and sending shudders down his back. Who was he to decline your request when you asked so nicely?
When he just slightly nodded to your words, you lifted up your arms, allowing Bucky to take off your oversized t-shirt. He almost choked on his saliva when he discovered that you were naked underneath it. 
“I love the twenty-first century.” Your laugh quickly turned into a moan when Bucky took one of your nipples into his mouth and pinched the other one with his fingers. The way he tried to be so gentle with his metal arm didn’t go unnoticed by you. He was always so careful not to hurt you in any possible way, but this felt much more intimate, deeper. 
After finally being satisfied with his work on your tits, Bucky trailed a way of kisses down to your leggings, slightly pushed the waistband down and teased you with his wet tongue, almost in the place where you wanted him the most. 
“Just take it off.” 
Bucky stood on his knees in between your legs and pulled down your pants and underwear, throwing them on the floor. “Dear fucking God. I’ll have my sweet time with her later.” He licked his lips, eyes glued to your wet folds. You just wined at his words, slightly pressing your legs together to exert some kind of pressure on your swollen clit. 
Bucky hesitated to take off his shirt. Being too lost in you, he almost forgot about his metal arm. But you were on his bed, naked, impatient, and only with lust written in your eyes. He knew you wouldn't judge him. 
Actually, you had never seen Bucky without clothes; only once did you catch him after the gym in the tightest possible t-shirt that revealed every little muscle on his chest and press. But holy shit, seeing him naked was shocking in the best possible way. His perfectly sculpted body, tanned skin, and slightly dingling silver dog tags made your mouth water with the need to kiss every centimeter of him. When your eyes shifted a little bit higher and caught the tormented skin on his shoulder, you felt nothing but sadness and pride for Bucky being so strong.
“You’re pretty.” The pink color spread to Bucky’s ears at your words. “And I want you all. Buck, you better hurry up and undress or I will have to handle this on my own." You slowly lowered your hand in between your legs to tease him and ease the tension in Bucky’s body, and you saw it working by the way his eyes were laser-focused on your actions.
“You’re playing with fire, doll.” He lowered his body on yours again, pushing away your hand, but instead pinned it above your head and kissed you. His free hand finally unbuckled his pants, and he did not bother taking them completely off—he just pushed them down slightly because he did not want to lose the sensation of being so close to you. “Oh fuuuck—” Bucky moaned as his cock touched your lower stomach and you could help but drag your eyes there. 
"There's no way you’re walking around with this…” You whispered in disbelief. 
“Mhm, you’ll get used to it.” He gave you a cocky smile. “Um, do you want me to find a condom? Fuck, I don’t have it.” The worry appeared in Bucky’s face and he looked around the room, as if the box could just magically appear somewhere. 
“No-no, Bucky, just fuck me. Please. I’m on birth control. I need you in me right now.” You were too desperate, wrapping your legs around his body and pushing him closer. The tip of his hard cock slipped across your pussy and you both hissed at the feeling. 
Bucky nodded more to himself and finally reached in between your bodies, gave himself a few pumps and started pushing inside of you. The stretch was almost painful, but at the same time, it was the best thing you had ever felt. 
He couldn’t hold it inside anymore. As soon as you took every inch of him, Bucky started moving in a steady rhythm. He lost himself in the way he fit so perfectly into you. He was fucking you without mercy. You gripped his shoulder with your free hand, while the non-stop moans escaped your mouth with every movement. Your body was jumping up and down on the bed; your eyes rolled back in pleasure and not a single thought flashed through your head. 
“So good for me. You’re taking me so well, doll. Just like that.” He was practically splitting you apart with his cock, but it seemed like you became even wetter with every second. If you weren’t too lost in pleasure, you would be ashamed of the way you made a total mess on his cock and thighs. 
Bucky, on the other hand, did not seem to mind; he kept pounding into you, sensing how you clenched tighter around him as you got closer to the orgasm. He freed your hand and grabbed your face so you would stay focused on his face. 
“Tell me how good you feel, baby. Your sweet juice is practically soaking my bed.” He said it without losing the speed of his thrusts or breaking eye contact. 
“So good– Bucky! Oh my fucking God.” You moaned through greated teeth, barely being able to keep your eyes open. 
“Are you going to cum, sweet girl? Gonna milk my cock?” His face got closer to yours, so your lips barely touched when his was talking. You wanted to cry, moan, scream, or do everything all at once when the pure bliss washed over you. “Ye-e-es, that’s it, baby. Take it all, fuck!” 
Bucky pushed his cock into your spasming pussy a few more times before he groanted somewhere near your ear and you felt the hot liquid covering your insides. You both were heavily breathing, clinging closer to each other. You felt too hot and sweaty; the feeling of Bucky’s heavy body covering your smaller form was so calming and safe. Bucky hummed into your neck when you wrapped your hands around his shoulders and lowered his flesh one to sofly trace the delicate skin of your thigh. 
“I can’t believe that we wasted so much time. We could’ve done it earlier.” Bucky rolled to his side, dragging you with him. He pushed your hair out of your face, and his hand stayed on your cheek for a few seconds while he was admiring you. 
“We’re idiots.” You giggled and bit your lip, looking at Bucky.
“We totally are. But I won’t let you go again.”
You were just staring at each other, smiling. It felt so natural to be in his arms, surrounded by his scent and warmth, as if it were supposed to have happened a long time ago. Bucky couldn’t help but move forward to capture your lips in another sweet kiss. 
Everything finally fell into place. 
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fureliselost · 6 months
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Dpxdc twin au in which Danny and Damian are fraternal twins
It's a classic "the Fentons misunderstood Danny's name and registered him as Daniel" but they accidentally transe Danny's gender and Danny never corrects them. Strangely, Danny likes it.
Eventually, the Fentons figure out, but Danny says he doesn't mind and they go with it.
(note: In this Danny is kinda nb/transmasc/gender weird, gender is neutral to him and he's fine with being called whatever, although male pronouns are the ones he uses the most)
Cut to Danny being dragged by Vlad to a gala (Vlad can be good but annoying in this idc) and Vlad is proudly displaying his "godson".
Duke: Hey, Damian, did you see the kid Vlad Masters brought?
Damian: I thought father said he wouldn't go into business with Masters.
Duke: He still attends for appearances. (Shrugs) Anyway, got any twins you didn't tell us about?
Damian: Yes.
Duke: 'Cause that guy looks just like—what?
Damian: I said I have a twin you don't know about.
Damian explains to the batclan that Danny was sent on a mission (as punishment) to keep track of the Fentons, since they studied "Lazarus Water". And then they forgot about it. The last time Damian heard of Danny was right before the accident.
On Danny's side, he knows Damian will be there before he goes — he's kept track of his twin's public persona (and vigilante life). He'd been doing a great job of not interacting and keeping from being spotted, as was protocol for if two agents ended up on the same field — he knew Damian wasn't an agent anymore, but assumed the protocol still applied. He knew, the moment Duke Thomas spoke to him and then went straight toward Damian, that he'd failed that protocol.
Now, Damian was trying to convince him to leave the League.
"Daniyah, there is another way."
"I know there is another way," Danny replied, "Except I told you about it for years and you never listened." During the years away from his family, Danny had missed them, his memory softened the feeling of anger at the way his twin always moulded his ideals to whoever ruled him. "We aren't supposed to be speaking, I'm still an agent, I'm breaking protocol by being here."
They'd sneaked off to a room along with Damian's siblings, who watched attently and and silently. "You don't have to be an agent anymore."
"Yes, I do." Danny spat, "You don't seem to have realized, but some of us don't have the privilege of being the favorite. I never had the privilege of being saved."
Damian scowled, "Being saved is not a privilege."
"It isn't," Danny agreed, "You're just forgetting that when you got freedom in reward, I got sent on a mission as punishment. You're still free and I'm still being punished, so I'm not sure you understand exactly what my position is." He moved to leave, "I'm not a damsel in distress, and I don't need your furry parade to save me."
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bixels · 2 months
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Splatoon 3: Side Order is good, but not great. I still highly recommend it, but if you care about the story, you're going to be disappointed. Quick review: spoilers ahead.
Side Order was the devs experimenting with Splatoon's gameplay loop. The campaign is a rogue-like, and it works amazingly well. Super fun, super challenging, building my deck and fighting through challenges with the stakes of resetting really scratched an itch in my brain. They did a great job with it.
Unfortunately, I feel like priority went to game design rather than story. Much of the mysterious artwork we saw in the first teaser trailer was completely unused; turns out, all of that was just concept art that never made it into the final product. Side Order failed to make me care about what was happening. I don't know why the protagonist had to be Agent 8; it could've been anyone else and the story would've worked the same.
Octo Expansion was the absolute peak of meshing story and gameplay. The campaign's hook is insanely strong; we immediately empathize with Agent 8 because we know from previous lore that octolings like her have been trapped underground for all their lives. We care about her fight to the surface because it's a fundamentally ideological fight for freedom. The plot stuff about Tartar and the Thangs is just nice set dressing; 8's fight for freedom is the real story.
There's none of that in Side Order. I don't particularly care about Marina's metaverse, even if it's tied to Octo Expansion's story. I don't know why Acht is there other than backstory stuff. It really feels like 8 is just told to do something and she does it because she's the protagonist; she has zero personal stakes or motivations in the conflict. This is a story blunder the devs did in Splatoon 3's default campaign––forgetting to give the protagonist a personal reason to fight––that I hoped would be fixed here, but alas.
What makes it worse is that the gameplay and story progression are completely out of sync. I beat the entire game on my third run in 4 hours. With each run, you get up to two keys to potentially unlock bits of story. That means you'll get about one piece of the story every two runs. There are twelve pieces of the story; I got the first and then beat the whole damn game. Now I have to go back and grind to see the remaining story when I've already beaten the final boss and resolved the conflict. I missed the entire story because I never had to reset because I blazed through the gameplay! It's just a real shame that I experienced everything without knowing... why it's happening. The final boss had me asking myself what the hell is going on because I don't know the backstory at all.
Again, I still really recommend. The devs did a great job, but Side Order remains in the shadow of Octo Expansion's incredible success. Like the default singleplayer campaign, there's just a lot of lost story potential here that, while not necessary, would have really elevated this DLC into something amazing.
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thoodleoo · 5 months
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list of ablatives with rankings
ablative of separation: classic. simple but elegant. she knows what she's about and we love to see her. 7/10
ablative absolute: queen of the ablatives. expressive. versatile. dare i say sexy? she has the range. 10/10
ablative of source and material: it's fine i guess. kind of a pain in the ass to remember when it wants a preposition
ablative of accompaniment: haha you said cum 8/10
ablative of agent: holding hands with the passive voice. they're girlfriends to me. love wins 9/10
ablative of place where: i miss the locative 3/10
ablative of degree of difference: i'll be honest i just like saying this. but that correlative comparative? chefs kiss 7.5/10
ablative of price: what the fuck is this shit? -1/10
ablative of means: love her. another classic, simple ablative. she encompasses so much and doesn't even need a preposition. 7/10
ablative of manner: wishes she was means. also i keep forgetting about her ngl. 4/10
ablative of respect: greek did it better with the accusative 2/10
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love is embarrassing
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
a.n. i can't be blamed for this. i swear, this is the last part. (but like, i also reserve the right to do another one if the mood strikes). i just have so much fun writing these two.
bad idea right? | get him back! | love is embarrassing
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you loved romance. you loved reading it. you loved watching a good rom com. you loved the idea of love.
you just wish someone would have told you how embarrassing it all was. love is embarrassing. plain and simple. it’s humiliating. and no movie, no book, no past relationship ever prepared you for how much you were willing to embarrass yourself for bucky barnes.
no one prepared you for hearing that tired sigh and watching your friends roll their eyes. every single time without fail.
“we broke up.”
“we’re back together.”
“we’re just keeping it casual.”
“i love him.”
“i hate him.”
bucky barnes had literally driven you to the brink of madness. then reeled you back in. then pushed you head first over the cliff. and as much as you wanted to hate him for it, you know you've done the exact same thing to him too.
something about the two of you, whether together or broken up, turned to usually level headed, composed agents into immature, borderline insane people.
dignity, both yours and his, was no longer a consideration in your relationship.
it was simple, neither of you had any left.
not when you kept falling into each other's beds and arms over and over again.
and in spite of all of this, in spite of all the embarrassment, the moment bucky texts you and asks you to meet him for a coffee, you agree - but only after making him wait several hours for a simple 'okay'.
here you sit before him, sipping on your tea, wondering where the hell your pride went. you were sure you had it right before bucky texted you.
bucky lets out a deep sigh, his hands anxiously rubbing together. "I just - i thought that maybe we should talk. alone. and i didn't want you to think that i was just trying to -"
"hook up?"
he nods, his lips pressed together, "exactly."
"it's not like everyone doesn't already know what's going on between us."
he immediately looks apologetic. you hate that. you hate that deep down, bucky barnes is actually a really good person, just not a great ex-boyfriend.
the real kicker was that he was actually a really great boyfriend, at least, from what you remember. "i should've told you that sam and steve found out."
your shoulders slump in defeat as you acquiesce, "and i should've told you that natasha and wanda found out."
his mouth twists. "so everyone knows, huh?"
"pretty much... does that surprise you?"
"i mean, i guess not. it's not like we were subtle about any of it."
you playfully snort, "no, i guess we weren't."
"why did we break up?"
"you don't remember that huge fight we had?"
"no, i remember that. i remember being really pissed off. i remember saying things that i didn't mean. i just can't remember why i didn't go after you. i can't remember why you didn't come back. and i can't remember why we gave up so easily."
the crazy thing was you could hardly remember what the fight was about. his ego. your temper. conflicting work schedules. the reality was you both blew up that night. "i don't remember either."
"why the hell are we still broken up?"
pride, mostly.
it was always the ugly head that reared itself in your relationship.
you were too proud to admit that you were wrong.
he was too proud to admit that he was wrong.
you were both too proud to be the first one to lay your armor down.
"it’s just..." you start, shaking your head and immediately backtracking, "forget it."
"it’s clearly something," bucky urges.
"it’s embarrassing."
"i promise i won’t give you shit about whatever you say."
"no, bucky, it’s embarrassing..."
his jaw sets to the side, his teeth clicking together. "us? we’re embarrassing? you’re embarrassed to be with me?"
"no! yes! no - it’s - this whole back and forth. if i get back together with you now - which i'm not saying i will - what does that say about me?"
he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "i didn't realize you cared that much about what other people thought of you."
"don't patronize me," you sneer. "you've embarrassed the shit out of me over and over again. forgive me for having some self respect."
"i think i'm falling in love with him," you confess.
"i'm so happy for you!" wanda squeals.
"barnes!" natasha greets him. "we were just talking about you two, so much for being a lone wolf, huh?"
bucky wraps an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he scoffs, "nothing's changed. we're just keeping it casual."
"i've embarassed you?" bucky guffaws. "you're not exactly innocent in this either."
"me?" you gasp. "what the hell did i do to you?"
"i think she's the one," bucky wistfully admits.
sam rolls his eyes. "you've been dating like a month."
"i'm not seeing your point."
"hey, sam," you greet him, making a point to glare at bucky as you pass the two of them on the way to the bar.
"oh shit," sam chuckles. "someone's in trouble."
"what? no i'm not - " bucky's words are cut off by the sight of you flipping him off as you walk away. "i stand corrected."
"you've done plenty," bucky grunts.
"and now, now, all i hear now is everyone's opinion of what they think i should do!" you exclaim. "do you know how humiliating it is to have everyone's opinions of whether or not i should be with you?"
“you’ll never get over him if you’re still under him, if you get what i mean,” nat quips.
you roll your eyes. “you have the subtlety of a brick wall.”
"you were the one that was all over sam at the bar the other night!" he accuses.
"and you were flirting with some random stranger in front of all of our friends!" you shoot back.
"people are staring," bucky points out.
you hang your head. great, you've embarrassed yourself once again in this back and forth with bucky. "i'm just tired of hearing what everyone thinks about this back and forth."
"but what do you think?" he emphasizes. "because, honestly, i'll embarrass myself over and over again if it means i could have you back. just name a time and a place and i'll be there." you're taken aback by bucky's offer. he was a proud man. there was no denying that. and maybe it's the fact that there's nothing but sincerity gleaming in his eyes or the fact that he's willing to give up something he values so much for you. maybe romance isn't dead after all. "or maybe, maybe we just stop. we stop this back and forth. we stop acting like kids, stop trying to get back at each other. we just... love each other without worrying about what everyone else thinks."
"oh fuck," you hiss under your breath as the realization hits you.
"what?"
you don't say anything. you just realized that you're about to embarrass yourself one last time for bucky barnes.
who cares? after all, love is embarrassing.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛
Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams @shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes@beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a@weallhaveadestiny@mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064@michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1
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hotchfiles · 1 month
Note
hotch "representing the bau" hotchner x activist!reader who won't stand for bullshit
not like actual conflict cause we know hotch is a very principled guy
more like
"shit i can't shitpost about overthrowing the government anymore cause my boyfriend is the government" vibes
you have no idea how deeply i feel about this i've actually posted about this because i'm very much against all cops and he's a literal fed ! but
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you met in the most conventional of ways, which makes the whole thing even funnier to the outside person. a bar. you noticed him the moment he walked in, too downright gorgeous to be ignored, you stare at him completely shamelessly and get a few shy awkward smiles in return while he sips on his first drinks and talks to his companion, who you later learned was rossi.
he will find it later on that you're not really up for games, but it takes him by surprise when you approach him, card in hand with your phone number and the red stain of your red lips on the other side. he's immediately smitten, being flirted with so openly at his age does wonders for his ego and he makes sure to text you as soon as he gets back to his apartment.
the texting back and forth goes for hours, a lot of flirting, you're much more outspoken than he is, but still you find him hilarious, you will be telling your friends he's the funny one between you two (none of them will believe you, but you like having this only to yourself as well).
you talk movies, plays, music, favorite drinks and by 2am he asks you on a date. it's perfect from the get go. he's flattering, compliments your choice of clothes, says he likes the lipstick (the same you used on the card he is keeping safe on his wallet), takes you to a nice restaurant.
you tell him since you made the very first move, he would have to be the one to kiss you, he argues he sent you the first text so you should be the one to do it, in the end none of you know who took the first move, you're just sure you were the one to unlock your apartment door, stumbling along with him as you two passionately kissed.
it's not common for this to happen for him, he's too much of a gentleman, sleeping with someone on the first date isn't the gentlemanly thing to do, you're not attached to those norms so even if he tried to argue, your lips glued to his neck as you worked on his belt took his mind off of it.
it's not until the next morning that he really notices your place: the types of books you had, some revolutionary art pieces and it's then he realizes he has no idea what you do for a living. neither did he tell you he was a fbi agent. you two talked long hours and career wasn't even a topic (that may be why you caught his heart so fast).
you were a journalist, a writer, quite proficient and known for your progressive ideals and less than civil protests, so when you both realize the differences and the conflict it might bring, the first instinct was to pull away. forget the whole thing. it was only one date after all.
it's a matter of days for the realization that being apart won't happen, your thoughts are filled with him and his voice and the way he touched you and aaron can possibly detail every curve of your body and the way you smelled as if he was still in bed with you.
there's a mutual agreement of public discretion, you can't have your readers knowing you're falling for a fed, nor does the media needs any more reasons to write about the fbi.
his team knows though, and so does strauss, she had to be warned of the possibility of your name popping up in some lists. she reads half of your writings after that, highlighting stuff you should not be writing about (you won't listen to her on it) and the compromise you make is to keep all of your opposition material completely professional, no tweets, no tiktoks, nothing of the sort with jokes about overthrowing the government.
"did you... did you just cite and use one of stalin's books as resource here?" he asks, he's in your bed, blue boxer shorts and white t-shirt on, completely comfortable with you already, his reading glasses sit on top of nose like an old man and he furrows his brows, looking up at you. aaron's interested in what you write, he truly reads whatever you hand him just to learn more about you, he's not the one to try to censure any of it.
"well yeah... his writings are the easiest to comprehend on the topic." you shrug, not understanding the tone of his question at first.
"honey... you can't just... do you know how many... forget it. your editor will love it." his poor attempts to talk you down failing each time he looked over and saw your expectant eyes as his opinion is important to you. you smile at his defeat, taking the papers from his hand and throwing somewhere else in the room, his glasses go to the bedside table and soon you're kissing any of his worries away.
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literaryavenger · 5 months
Text
I love you and I hate it - part 2
Summary: After your fight with Bucky, you put all your efforts into avoiding him, convinced that your friendship is over. Bucky, however, has other plans.
Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Warnings: Reader being dramatic. Angst. Language maybe. Minimal use of Y/N. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.5K
A/N: I promise I didn't mean to make it this long, but I couldn't help myself, again, and I didn't want to end on another 'cliffhanger' so here it is! hope you like it!
Part 1
Masterlist
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Bucky can't believe what he just heard... You like him?
No, you used the word ‘love’. You love him.
Do you love him?
Certainly, he would’ve noticed if you did... Right? He is a trained assassin, he was taught how to see beyond people’s words and actions.
And he knows you, you can deny it all you want, but he knows you better than anyone. He knows you better than he knows himself.
And if he’s being honest, you know him better than anyone ever has, Steve included.
You feel safe, you feel calm. You feel like the peace he’s always wanted, the quiet he needs.
You feel like home. In a platonic way, of course.
Right?
His thoughts of you are interrupted by Sharon’s voice. He didn’t even realize he was back at the party.
"Where did you go?" she asks and, suddenly, her grip on his arm was just a little too tight for his liking. But it was probably nothing.
"I went to check if Y/N was okay."
"Oh." something in her voice felt wrong, but Bucky tried to ignore it, that is until what she said next.
"Why would you even care about her? All she does is embarrass you like before. She’s useful to no one, I heard the only reason she’s even on the team is because she slept her way to it." she laughed like it was the funniest thought in the world, and Bucky couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Not only was she saying hurtful, untrue things about his girl, but she has the audacity to laugh at her own cruelty?
"How dare you?" he does his best not to yell, but his tone still startles Sharon. "Y/N is the best agent in all of Shield, that’s why she got in the team! She’s not an embarrassment, she’s a valued member of our family and she’s my best friend! Of course I care about her, she’s the most important person in my life! Don’t ever talk about her that way again."
Sharon seems shocked at his words but, looking around, she realizes people are starting to stare so she tries her best to defuse the situation. "Alright, I’m sorry, I won’t say things like that again. Let’s just calm down and have a nice rest of the evening, ok?"
In his head Bucky knew her request was reasonable, he could forget about this and keep having fun with his girlfriend. But in his heart he just knew he couldn’t let it go.
The words were coming out of his mouth before he can stop them, not that he even wants to.
"You know what, Sharon? This isn’t working. We have to break up." He doesn’t even give her a chance to say anything before he’s turning around and making his way to his room.
Meanwhile, on the roof, Steve’s trying to talk you down the ledge. Metaphorically speaking, obviously. 
"He hates me, Steve." you can't stop the tears.
"Stop saying that, sweetheart, he doesn’t hate you."
"You saw what happened at the party, the way he looked at me. And he heard me say that I love him and walked away like it was nothing." You sniffle. "If he didn’t hate me before, this certainly pushed him off the edge."
Steve has nothing to say to that, he knows Bucky doesn't hate you, but he also knows that you’re too stubborn to hear any reason, especially not right now when you're in the eye of the tornado and can't see a way out.
Right now you need a friend and shoulder to cry on, usually Bucky would take on that role, but, given the circumstances, Steve decides to step up and be that friend.
He wraps his arms around your crying body and holds you as you let it all out. Neither of you say anything else, the only sounds in the dark of the night being your sobs, until eventually you calm down and after a few moments of silence Steve glances down to see you fell asleep. 
Not wanting to wake you he carefully picks you up and makes his way to the elevator.
When he gets to the floor you both reside in he finds Sam and Natasha chatting at the kitchen counter, probably about to go to bed after coming up from the party.
Sam gives him a confused look, while Nat seems to understand what is going on right away as she moves without saying a word, walking ahead of Steve towards your room.
She opens the door for him and walks in behind, moving the covers back as he lays you on your bed as carefully as he can, and then Nat delicately takes your heels off before covering you with the duvet.
As they’re leaving your room the door opposite yours opens, revealing a hopeful Bucky but when he sees it’s not you, his face becomes stoic once again. He’s about to ask where you are when Natasha beats him to the punch.
"Leave her alone, Barnes. You’ve hurt her enough already." Is all she says before she steps into her own bedroom.
Bucky looks to his best friend for help but, at his confused face, the blonde super soldier just shakes his head in disappointment and walks away without a word.
Bucky stands there for a few minutes, just staring at your door like he's gonna will you to open it and talk to him.
He sighs and goes back to his room where he spends the next few hours overthinking about you and this whole night, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep.
The next morning when you wake up you feel at peace for about 10 seconds before the events of last night hit you like a truck, and all you can feel is humiliation.
How can you face the team after they witnessed your fight with Bucky?
How can you face Steve after he saw you at your most vulnerable and, apparently, carried you to bed after you cried yourself to sleep?
How can you face Bucky after he heard you say you love him and he walked away from you?
You can’t, that’s the answer.
Should you just move out? Just quit the team, ask Hill to be reassigned? Maybe you could even get transferred to another country...
You’re not overreacting, right? This is a very embarrassing situation and you have every right to want to run away from all of it.
As you’re making up an escape plan in your mind you hear a knock on your door, followed by Steve’s voice. "Hey, are you awake? We just want to make sure you're okay…"
You try to be as silent as you can, slowing down your breathing praying he’ll think you’re sleeping.
You can hear him exchange some muffled words with what sounds like Natasha, and then you hear their footsteps as they walk away, so you let out a relieved sigh.
Okay, step one is definitely getting out of this room, it’s just the most obvious place where to look for you.
You get up and out of your awfully classy dress, take a shower being sure to clean away all the makeup from last night and put on the most comfortable sweats you own.
Just as you’re opening the door you can see Bucky opening his about to get out and, in a panic move, you run back inside your room and slam the door shut.
Very subtle, yes.
You rest your back against the door and can hear him sigh and then walk away.
You wait a few minutes, just to be sure, and then relax a little. Your plan was to go to the gym and work out a bit, but now all you can think about is getting the hell out of this compound.
You grab your purse, make sure to have your phone and keys in it and open the door, making sure no one’s around before getting out.
You’re practically running, taking the stairs for good measure, and in a flash you’re at the garage. You jump in your car and drive away as fast as you can without breaking the law, not even knowing where to go.
Once you’re in the city you stop at a cafe for breakfast near your favorite book store, the one you and Bucky have visited together a hundred times.
Okay, stop that. No more thinking about Bucky.
You spend the rest of the day just going from one store to the other, stopping to have lunch at the diner you always go to when you’re in the city, and trying not to kick yourself for not being able to stop thinking about Bucky.
Seriously, why can’t you stop thinking about him?
It doesn’t help the fact that every one of your favorite places has at least a hundred and twelve memories of Bucky.
God, have you ever gone anywhere on your own in the last two years?
The more memories come to mind the more you think that maybe transferring wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Go somewhere new, get a fresh start.
When it starts getting dark you decide to drive back to the compound, but when you park and turn the car off you can’t find it in yourself to get out.
You take out your phone, which you’ve been ignoring all day, and go through all the messages of your worried friends, hating yourself a little more when you catch yourself looking for his name in your notifications.
Just as you’re about to answer Tony’s texts first, you get a call from Steve. You stare at your phone, unsure if you can stomach answering him right now, but your decision is rendered moot when someone taps against your car window.
Your head snaps towards it and you let out a breath of relief when you see Steve standing there, holding his phone and using it to tap on your window again.
You close your eyes for a second but resign to your fate as you gather your things and get out of the car.
When you lock your car you turn to see that Steve moved to be leaning on the trunk of your car, so you join him and wait for him to say something, not knowing what to say yourself.
"So," he starts, with his arm folded in front of his chest and looking at his shoes "you’re avoiding all of us now?" You let out a sigh, feeling bad for hurting his feelings.
"I’m sorry, Steve. I just…" you can’t even look at him as you talk, so you just look ahead of you at all the cars "I’m just embarrassed. After everything that happened last night, I don’t know… God, you even carried me to bed like a child." you cover your face with your hands.
You finally look at him when you hear him chuckling. "That’s what friends do, Y/N. They lean on each other." he bumps your shoulder with his playfully.
"I know we’re not as close as you and Bucky, but I am your friend too. I’m not gonna judge you for last night, I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s what we all want. You made us worry that you might run away on us." He says the last part as a joke, but you can’t help looking away from him.
That’s exactly what you wanted to do.
You bite your lip as he keeps looking at you and you feel like he can see the gears turning in your head, like your thoughts are so loud and your guilt so visible that he knows right away he was right on the money.
"Y/N…" it’s almost a warning, but you still can’t find the courage to look at him. "You were seriously thinking of running away?!" he seems almost shocked.
"Okay, it’s not like I’m a teenager running away in the middle of the night after a fight with her parents!" you finally look at him. "I was just considering… I don’t know, maybe asking for a transfer?"
"So you actually want to leave the team just because you had a fight with Bucky?" He scoffs.
"It’s not just the fight, Steve, he knows I love him and he doesn’t even care!" You yell before sighing and lovering your voice.
"Do you realize how much that hurts? And now I’m supposed to, what? Just go back to how things used to be? Pretend like nothing happened? Even if we’re not friends anymore, he lives across the hall from me! I’m bound to see him and it’s gonna hurt every fucking time!" You’re almost crying, again, but you hold back not wanting to go through that again and you look away.
"I know it hurts, trust me, sweetheart, but… what about us?" you look at him again as he goes on. "We’re your team too. We’re your friends, we’re your family... You can’t just leave us. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we can help you make it better. We all care about you a lot." It’s honestly a miracle you’re not crying already. You feel him take your hand, but don’t look away from his face.
"Please let us help you." you squeeze his hand and nod, not trusting your voice not to break and the flood to hit as soon as you open your mouth.
He smiles at you and you can’t help but do the same. "Good. Then let’s go up and have dinner like we always do." He starts walking and taking you with him, his hand still in yours.
While you’re waiting for the elevator you can’t hold yourself back as you turn to him and give him a tight hug. "Thank you."
He hugs you back just as tight. "Anytime, rookie." you snort and let go of him, giving him a punch in the arm you’re sure he didn’t even feel as he laughs with you.
When you get to the big kitchen most of the team is already there and you sit down next to Natasha while Steve sits at her other side.
The seat next to you is quickly occupied by Sam as he bings the pizza to the table. He gives you a side hug and squeezes your arm in sympathy but aside from that nobody even mentioned what happened last night, which you're grateful for.
You eat like always, having conversations, laughing and teasing each other like normal, you didn’t feel like anyone was pitying you and you realized Steve was right: these people are your family, you could never leave them.
And, as you watch Loki and Peter trying to make you laugh by messing with Thor’s hair, putting tiny umbrellas in it while he's not looking, you just know they’re gonna help you through everything.
What makes you sad to notice is that one brooding super soldier is missing, though you don’t bring it up for fear of opening that particular door.
And that’s how you spend the next few weeks: avoiding anything and everything that has to do with Bucky, including the man himself.
You start training with Natasha and realize how easy Bucky went on you.
You do more missions with Sam and Steve and realize that missions aren't as fun for everybody as they were for you and Bucky.
You hang out during your down time with pretty much everyone and realize that you couldn’t have as much fun with everyone as you had with Bucky.
So yeah, as much as you could avoid Bucky and talking about him to anybody, he lived rent free in your head.
Fun, huh?
It also didn’t help the look that Steve gave you every time you basically ran out of a room as soon as you caught a glimpse of your former best friend. 
Everybody noticed the change in your friendship, but it felt like they all took a silent oath to not mention anything to either of you, and you were glad they were respecting your choice to stay away from Bucky.
He, on the other hand, was going crazy.
He hasn’t seen you in weeks, except for those few seconds before you realize he’s in the same room and run away.
He doesn’t hear your voice unless he’s eavesdropping on you with someone else, but even then he never hears his name come out of your mouth.
Nobody will tell him anything about you, the only thing he can get out of Steve is ‘she’s okay, just give her time’.
He’s been trying his best to give you the space you need, but he feels like he’ll lose his mind if he doesn’t hear you say his name soon.
It’s been a month of successfully and not so subtly avoiding Bucky.
There was one time where, as the team about to land for a mission, he got much too close to you for your liking and you thought he was about to say something so you grabbed a parachute and quite literally jumped out the jet, then walked the rest of the way to the Hydra base.
Everyone had to wait for you, some annoyed, but most found the situation too amusing to be bothered by it.
Anyway. 
You’re at the gym for an early morning workout, a habit you took to when you started avoiding Bucky.
You know he usually stays up at night. Occasionally because he still gets nightmares, usually because his overthinking mind tortures him until early hours. So he uses mornings to sleep in when he doesn’t have missions.
You’re on the treadmill when you hear the doors of the gym open behind you but think nothing of it, assuming it’s just Steve replacing his morning run with a workout because it’s too hot to run outside.
When you don’t hear him say anything, you’re about to turn your head to see who it is, but before you can do anything you feel two hands, one cold and one hot, on your waist.
You squeal when they pick you up and take you away from the treadmill, setting you down on the ground in front of it before turning off the machine.
"Bucky, what the fuck?! I could’ve gotten hurt!" you were so shocked you didn’t even fully realize you were actually talking to the person you’ve spent so much time and effort avoiding, or that you were walking backwards while Bucky was getting closer to you.
"Oh please, I’d never let you get hurt." he’s sounds almost amused, like this is a normal thing between you two, but the truth is he’s just happy that you’re actually talking to him.
When your back hits the wall you realize too late that it’s Bucky in front of you and suddenly you’re looking around you to find a way to escape. But all you find is that he’s successfully trapped you between the wall and his body, his hands on the wall at either side of your head.
You swallow hard and if he notices he doesn’t say anything, but your brain is too busy registering the warmth of his body so close to yours to even be ashamed right now.
"Is this the only way I’ll get to talk to you now?" you almost miss his question, your eyes snapping up to meet his and, where you expected to see a smug look at having caught you not only off guard but also ogling, you found a frown and a slight pout.
Something about the hurt on his face stopped you from lying or straight up kicking him so he’d move and you could run away.
No, Bucky was your best friend, you’ve always felt the need to be honest with him ever since that first day, and even now you owe it to him to tell him nothing but the truth.
"I just need time." You hoped he understood.
"How much more time do you need?" Apparently not.
"I don’t know, can’t you just be patient?" You can't believe you really have to ask him this.
"It’s been a month, doll, I think I’ve been plenty patient. Are you planning on avoiding me forever?"
"Not forever… just… I don’t know." If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how long you would’ve kept on avoiding him.
You were so busy doing the actual avoiding that you didn’t take the time to think about when you’d be able to stop.
You let out a sigh, but didn’t look away from his eyes for a second. He needs to know you meant every word you're about to say. "I was hurting, Bucky. I still am. I get that you have a girlfriend-"
"I broke up with her." he interrupts you.
"You… What?" you weren’t expecting that. "When?"
"The night of our fight. I would’ve told you sooner but it was hard to catch you, you know, with you avoiding me and everything."
You almost lost your train of thought, but it didn’t matter that he was single, he was still the first one to walk away, why was it so wrong for you to do it now?
"It doesn’t matter… I know you don’t owe me anything, but you walked away from me. From my feelings." you can see Bucky’s confusion so, before he can say anything, you explain yourself.
"That night on the roof. I know you were there, you heard me say that I loved you and you walked away like it was nothing. Like I was nothing. I know you don’t like me like that, and I can live with that in time, but it hurt. It still hurts." you don’t know what you were expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn’t he says next.
"Do you remember the day we met?" you furrow your brows in confusion but he waits for you to nod before he keeps going. "We’ve never really talked about it, have we? It's ironic since we’ve talked about pretty much every topic we could possibly come up with. But that day, you introduced yourself and I just got up and walked away. Kind of what you’ve been doing this past few weeks."  he chuckles a bit and you have the impression he's getting closer to your face, but you're probably just imagining that.
"Yeah, I thought I did something wrong, but you were just a rude bitch." he laughs and you can’t help but smile.
"I’m sorry about that, I just… the second I saw you I felt weird. And when you talked to me it was too much, I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t know what I was feeling and my brain just screamed at me to get out, so I did. Then you came to my door and said all those nice things and that weird feeling started to feel more and more comfortable as you talked. It was nice. Then we became friends and I guess I just dismissed that feeling as friendship. It was a different type of friendship that I’d never had... But then again I’ve never been this close to a woman. Emotionally speaking, of course." His hand comes to cup your cheek and you can’t speak, so he takes the opportunity to say everything he needs to say.
"This month has been hell for me, doll. I’ve missed you more than I’ve ever missed anybody in my entire life. Not being able to spend time with you, joke around, talk to you, barely even see you. It's been driving me insane. Being away from you for so long made me realize what that feeling was. You’re not just my best friend, you’re my person. You’re my calm, and my reason. You’re my happiness, my home. You’re the love of my life."
"What?" you're basically whispering, so quietly you’re sure he wouldn’t have heard you if he didn’t have super hearing.
"I love you too, doll. I love you." he holds your face in his hands "I love you."
You feel like your brain shut down all of a sudden. You barely know how to breathe, let alone talk. All you can do is stare at him, the look he's giving you making you weak in the knees.
"You’re killing me here, doll. For the love of god, say something, angel." The nickname seems to snap you out of it, and there's only one thing in your mind left to ask.
"If you love me, why didn’t you tell me on the roof?" He let out a deep sigh, you can feel his breath on your lips, but you try your hardest to focus on his words and not his lips.
"For one I was still with Sharon. And I didn’t really know what I was feeling. Also, I wasn’t even sure you were serious. Honestly, I was just confused about the whole thing, and still mad about the fight. Nothing good would’ve come from me staying and talking to you that night. I probably would’ve ended up hurting you more." All that makes a lot of sense, sure, but it doesn't change the fact that it hurt.
The look in Bucky’s face at the moment though makes you want to forgive him right this second and let this whole thing go. Pretend like the last month didn’t happen. 
So that’s what you do.
"What if…" you start, looking back and forth between his eyes and his lips "what if we forget all of this happened?"
"No." he answered so fast and firmly that it made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and disappointment. "I don’t want to forget anything about us, doll. Good or bad, it’s all worth it, as long as it ends with you in my arms."
You're melting and can't hold yourself back, you grab his face and bring his lips down to yours.
He freezes, probably not expecting it, but when you're about to pull away, he holds your face to keep you there, deepening the kiss.
After a few moments you hear someone clear their throat and almost throw Bucky off of you, looking behind him while he turns to see who it is and you see Steve and Sam standing there, amused looks on their faces.
"We were just talking." You blurted out and Sam cracked and almost doubled over with laughter.
"Really?" Steve said while raising an eyebrow, almost exasperated and knowing damn well what you were doing.
"Sure they were, Steve, she was obviously trying to get the word out of his mouth!" Sam said to the blonde, still laughing his ass off.
"Oh, of course she was. Tell us, sweetheart, what did you find in Bucky’s mouth?" Steve was now laughing too, and you were so embarrassed you hid your face in Bucky’s chest.
He wrapped his arms around you, barely glaring at the two laughing idiots. "Ok, just get out of here, punks." Fortunately for once in their lives they decided to actually listen and left, their laughs echoing through the halls.
"You okay there, doll?" Bucky was now chuckling at your embarrassment.
You raised your head and, meeting his eyes, you said "I can’t believe Captain Dumbass is making fun of us for kissing."
He started laughing and you gladly joined him, looking forward to making up for the time you missed with him, unknowingly promising each other to never let go of the other ever again.
taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @spookyparadisesheep @scott-loki-barnes @pattiemac1 @emerald-writes @sapphirebarnes
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annabelle--cane · 7 months
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I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people
anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.
so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.
secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.
I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.
here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."
anyway. jon archivist.
don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.
the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.
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