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#this is actually my first time drawing her which I think should get me arrested
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low-quality scary doodle :)) I love her your honor
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thevindicativevordan · 11 months
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For all Seasons?
Overrated and like most Loeb books, primarily carried by the art.
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Totally understandable given it is an absolutely gorgeous book. Rereading it took my breath away at every single spread, to the point I was sorely tempted to get the Absolute just for the art. Sale nails every single location, he can evoke Norman Rockwell with Smallville and then you turn the page and he's depicting Metropolis as the Art Deco wonderland of adventure it should be. Bjarne Hansen's coloring perfectly sets the tone for each of the seasons: bright spring, upbeat summer, melancholic fall, and then a gloomy winter that gives way to spring once more. On art, few are the names which can match these guys.
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Great as the art is the writing is very basic. Clark is a good if simple lad who wants to help people because his salt of the Earth farmer folk raised him right. He reaches adulthood and realizes he doesn't want to spend his entire life in Smallville - choosing to leave after confessing his secret to Lana. After a period of adventures as Superman in Metropolis -where he earns the attraction of Lois and the enmity of Lex - someone dies while helping him save Metropolis which makes Clark depressed and pushes him to run back to Smallville. He and Lana reunite, she helps him rediscover his confidence, he saves Smallville from a flood and moves back to Metropolis. That is the entire plot and it's as barebones as the summary reads.
There's a few interesting bits that don't go anywhere: Clark remarking that Metropolis doesn't feel like home but Smallville doesn't anymore either is relatable to me. That part of growing up hits hard for anyone who has moved out of their parents' house and then returns to their childhood home for a visit. Pete chewing Clark and Lana out for getting the opportunity to leave Smallville that he always wanted, only to run back with their tails between their legs was nice. For All Seasons is my first time finding Pete interesting and I wish he had gotten his own issue where we see his perspective on Smallville. Everyone else waxes on about the town's greatness but that clearly is not how Pete feels, and a chance to see him express his view to contrast with the rest might have spiced things up. Ma and Pa offer the usual cliché cornfed wisdom if you like that sort of thing.
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Characterization wise, Clark barely gets any? Since he doesn't get to narrate any sections of the book, we're stuck seeing him through other peoples eyes. He's nice, strong, principled, and has his head stuck up his ass. "Basic" is the best way to put it, he lacks the nuance or depth of other portrayals. A few good moments stand out, my favorite is when he cheekily escorts Lex's helicopter back to Lexcorp Tower after Lex has been arrested, that was funny and I wish we got more of that. It's not a terrible take, but I've read better elsewhere. Could just as easily see someone reading this and walking away thinking Superman is boring as I could see them reading this and coming away a fan. Probably the most damning thing I can say is that the "real" Clark is the most boring of the three identities. Metropolis Clark has an underrated sense of dry humor, Superman has a "friendly neighborhood hero" vibe that makes him endearing, but the "real" Clark in Smallville comes across as a dope who is always in need of simplistic advice, and walks through life with a wide-eyed puppy dog look that makes him feel stupid. Just doesn't come across as very bright in his "real" self.
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Lois is... ok. Cast in the mold of the Byrne Post-Crisis model where she was sucking up to Lex Luthor until Superman came along and she switched to pursuing him. The feistiness and dedication to the story are there at least, and I do love how Sale draws her. But the only moment with Lois that I actually rate highly is the one where she's snooping through Clark's belongings, assumes the "L.L." he's talking about in a letter to his parents refers to her, and when Clark catches her she tries to gaslight him into thinking she's doing him a favor. Hilarious moment, but Lana honestly comes across more as Clark's great love here. She's the one he's thinking of even years after they last saw each other, she plays a critical part in pushing him to become Superman in the first place albeit indirectly, and at shakes him out of his funk when he's at his lowest. If this was one of the definitive works for Post-Crisis Superman, I finally kind of get why some writers preferred Lana over Lois.
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Lex is lame as hell. Diet Kingpin indeed, his plan is underwhelming to put it mildly. He's not smart enough to create a virus himself so he has to hire someone else to do it for him? Not muh Lex. Knocking the entire city out just to set up one person dying on Superman's watch because that will make Superman quit is stupid not smart. Supes does recognize that Lex is probably responsible for the virus, that he doesn't immediately suspect Lex set up this woman to die just to screw with him feeds into what I said about this Supes sometimes being a dope. Pa gives him a pep talk regarding this that boils down to "sometimes you're going to fail" and yeah no shit. A grown ass man needs to hear that from his dad because Lex telling him he sucks and should quit is enough to get him to flee back home after one failure? Feud between the two of them here feels like an old man seething about the damn kid on his lawn rather than a titanic battle between Men of Tomorrow who each have their own idea of the future.
If I only got to recommend five books to win someone over to liking Superman, this wouldn't be one of them. It's fine, if you want a Superman book that makes you feel wholesome inside then go ahead. If you want to see Tim Sale absolutely knock you on your ass with great art, definitely check this out. For someone who thinks Superman is boring? I don't think this is going to convince very many otherwise.
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the-players-arcade · 1 year
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Personal
I’m not sure if i’m going to post this or not. I feel like I should. Like I want to. Fuck it. I’m gonna. So. I’ve been a bit busy with life. Mainly, dealing with myself and my mother being kicked out by my Aunt, Christine Brooks.
The reason we got kicked out was because my Aunt, was yelling at my mother and blaming her for things like asking if she wants the trash in the living room to be taken out. And my mother began crying.
I couldn’t stand it, and I stormed into the room, and screamed back at her in defense of my mother, saying “She was trying to help you”.
Out of all the things I thought my Aunt would do, CALLING THE FUCKIGN COPS ON ME, is NOT what I expected.
I would’ve yelled more at her if I wasn’t so shocked. I went upstairs with my mother, who afterward went back downstairs, and waited for the Cops to arrive. I was sitting there, shaking and rocking in place as I genuinely believed that my life was now over because my Aunt got scared of me, as I couldn’t stop thinking the words “It’s my fault”
And I had to mentally fight against myself on that thought. Because it wasn’t. I couldn’t have known that my Aunt would escalate to calling the fucking cops on me, because I yelled back at her for the first time in fucking ever. Because I chose to defend my mother against her yelling, because I could not fucking stand hearing my own mother cry.
The cops arrived, and I calmly stated that all I did was yell back at my aunt. I made no move to physically harm her nor ever had the intention to do so. My goal in that moment was to get between my aunt and my mother and protect my mom.
No one got arrested. All the cops did was say they can’t make me and my mother leave, and said my aunt could try and get an eviction on us. Which she said she would try to do so, once the Courts and stuff were open; It was the weekend, and the court would only open on Monday.
After that, I was genuinely afraid of going downstairs by myself. Because I know my Aunt owns a gun. And after her calling the cops on me, I no longer knew what she might decide to do.
To skip ahead a bit... We managed to get a place, on lease for a year. I ended up personally putting in 1,400 dollars. One bedroom, but we can make it work. Happens to be something me and my mom are good at; Making stuff work.
It’s a lot nicer then living out in the city. I don’t hear gunshots at night. i don’t hear explosions. or screams. Or yelling. It’s so much nicer here.
But my Sister got left behind. Sierra. Who Christine Brooks raised as her own child. Who, legally I must admit, took her form my mother. Because when me and my sister were born, my mother got sick. Really sick. To the point she didn't know if she’d make it. She trusted me to my Father, and my Sister to Aunt Chris.
She made it. She lived. And then my Aunt decided not to give Sierra back.
My aunt has since used the funds she has procured from having Sierra to get things she otherwise wouldn’t have. And currently, before we left, all my Sister was given to fucking eat, has been biscuits and gravy, cheese pizza, and fucking puffy cheetos. Christine Brooks also babysits for her actual child, Tony, helping care for Tony’s baby. And neglecting my Sister.
Did I mention my Aunt also smokes pot? Legally, yes. But she smokes it way too fucking much. She smokes it around Sierra. Even around the baby. Whenever me and Mom got back from somewhere, we’d be able to smell the pot before even getting in front of the front door. Oh, speaking of that baby, she lets that baby draw on everything. On the walls, the fridge, and even lets her play atop the stove.
And my Sister is forced to be stuck in a fucking room so the baby can leave her alone. Because my sister, has autism. More severely then I. She has health issues, medical problems, and problems with her sight. So yeah, my Aunt made a lot of money raising her. Money isnt’ really the issue I have with her having my Sister though.
The real issue is all the time I could’ve spent with her. All the time me and her could’ve bonded. When we were kids, we got along great. We played so much stuff together, when we could see eachother. But then we had to move a long time ago, and saw eachother a lot less. ...And my sister changed. I don’t know of everything she went through. But she seemed a lot less happier.
And now my Sister... may never see me again. As she probably gets yelled at more by our Aunt for not understanding things. Manipulated and mentally messed with by my Aunt. My Sister is about as old as me, but mentally... she didn’t really get taught how to grow up. My aunt tells her she needs to learn things, yet she still yells at her and makes her stay in her fucking room for so long.
I am so sorry Sierra. I am so, so sorry. You deserve a better life. You deserve so much better. i’m sorry I couldn’t stick around to help you. I would’ve if I didn’t feel so scared of being killed by my own aunt because I no longer knew what she could decide to do.
As for my aunt, Christine Brooks? Believe me, I know what I could have chosen to do. I know what i’m capable of. But it’s not knowing what you can do that makes someone dangerous or evil. It’s whether or not you choose to. And I chose not to do anything to her. Because she’s in her 60s. I’m in my 20s. I have a lot more time in my life then her.
I’ll outlive her. And that’s good enough for me.
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tommytranselo · 2 years
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iv playthrough updates from the other night:
so i get the call from roman that unlocks the first actual mission you do for brucie where you have to kill the guy rivas.  as i’m trying to set my route to get there i notice two icons flashing now on the screen, B and DR and sit there wondering what the hell that’s about.
as i’m en route i finally get the fucking text from dimitri telling me we need to talk and i realize that’s why he’s also on my map.
i do the brucie mission.  he gives me another mission as i’m leaving but i decide, fuck it, i’m gonna go talk to dimitri.
i’m nearly there when roman calls me to go drinking, and he already called me earlier (while i was doing that one faustin mission where you have to drive fucking explosives across the city) so i say yes.
then en route i see brian (the random encounter guy) and think oh shit should i stop?  will i be able to find him again since he’s random?  but roman’s waiting and he’ll get mad if i stand him up so i better just go
when i am WITHIN SIGHT OF ROMAN waiting for me little jacob calls and i stupidly answer and he asks me for a ride which i have to turn down bc I AM WITHIN SIGHT OF ROMAN, and he’s like “oh sure just call me whenever you get the chance” and then i get the icon that says we lost friendship like EXCUSE YOU???
i fucking get lost on the way to taking roman to the bar and we end up getting dinner first because i accidentally stop in front of a restaurant.  this confuses me tremendously.  then i take roman to the bar and we get very fucking drunk and i sit in the car to let it wear off so we’ll both stop falling all over the sidewalk and niko says OUT LOUD something like “niko bellic if you drive drunk you’re a fucking moron” like CALM DOWN I WASN’T GOING ANYWHERE
finally i attempt the dimitri mission and die.  it despawns my car.  i get arrested trying to break into another car that i thought was mine because there’s a cop in sight who goes after me despite the fact i hurriedly gave up after pulling on the handle.  this takes away all my weapons but i don’t realize.  i die several more times thinking all my weapons being gone is just part of the mission–hey, it’s a mob-owned nightclub, maybe they frisked me on the way in, it makes sense in my head.
finally say fuck it, give up and do the other brucie mission with the car theft.  i don’t have to shoot so i still don’t realize anything’s wrong.
i run into brian again.  i do his mission.  i have to fight somebody, panic when i can’t draw a gun for some reason, and promptly get my ass handed to me.  huh, weird glitch.
decide to do that later.  take michelle on a date when she calls me.  find out i’m really good at the darts minigame and proceed to wreck her shit.  later call up jacob to restore lost friendship points and proceed to wreck HIS shit at darts too.
at some point have the bright idea to see if i can draw any weapons and realize they’re definitely all gone.  assume this is a weird glitch until googling for a cause reveals that getting arrested steals your arsenal.  oops.
conclusion: i am very popular and also very stupid
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percontaion-points · 1 year
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Covet chapters 148-151
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Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
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Chapter 148
Remy grins. “A promise is a promise.” He holds his hand out, and a red ball of power glows right in the center of his palm. He throws it straight up in the air before lifting his arm above his head and circling his hand. 
The ball loosens up, becomes a bigger and bigger spiral above all our heads until it covers the whole ceiling. Once it does, Remy stares straight at me and winks. 
And the red spiral whirls around Flint, Calder, Hudson, and me, spinning like a top for several beats. And out of nowhere, the bracelets fall right off our wrists and land at our feet.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate this book actually getting directly to the point. For once.
It’s simply that why the hell is Remy instantly good at this?
And then we’re racing down the corridor after Charon and his guards as we finally make our way back to the surface…and the light.
Chapter 148 summary: Grace releases the magic. As soon as that’s done, Hudson grabs her and tells her that it’s the sexiest thing ever. Flint draws them back to the present by reminding them that they’re not alone. 
Remy then uses his powers to unlock their cuffs, and they take a moment to reassure themselves that their powers are as they should be. Grace takes a moment to say goodbye to Remy. He reassures her that they’ll see each other again. The others leave. 
Chapter 149
“Was there ever an unbreakable curse in this prison?” I can’t help but ask. He hadn’t performed any big spells or magic to set us free. “Or is the whole thing a scam?” 
Charon lifts his chin. “Hey, don’t judge me. I give the people what they want. A place to hide away their monsters and an idea it’s for their own good.” He glares at each of us one by one. “Unless you feel maybe you shouldn’t get out before people who’ve been here longer…” 
It’s not so much that I think that prison should NOT exist. 
But the entire point of prison is that people learn their lessons and eventually re-enter society. (Despite what USA prisons would lead you to believe.)
So a prison that only punishes and punishes and punishes people and then they die… That’s not prison. At some point, that’s literally nothing more than straight-up torture for the sake of torturing people. 
I whirl around in time to catch Macy as she throws herself into my arms.
Chapter 149 summary: Charon takes them over to a door and simply punches in a keycode. No magic, no nothing. Literally the only thing preventing the prisoners from leaving is nothing but the belief that they can’t. Grace kind of calls him out, but Charon is like “It is what it is.” 
They come out into a cemetery, where Vander thanks Grace over and over for helping him finally leave. He gives her the key, and then uses earth magic to go back to his family for the first time in a millenia. 
Flint reminds them that they’ve still got Calder, who is still knocked out from having ingested the flower earlier. And then Macy shows up. 
Chapter 150
“We’ve been trying to figure out how to break in for days,” Mekhi tells us once the hugs and fist bumps have all been dispensed. “But that place is more heavily guarded than the Vampire Court, which I didn’t know was possible.” 
“Right?” Luca says with a laugh.
I literally forgot that these two characters existed. They serve no point to the plot. 
But nothing comes to mind, and before I can figure anything else out, Liam, Rafael, and Byron come fading through the cemetery like their everything is on fire. 
Look, I can admit that I know who Luca and Mekhi are. But I swear that we’ve never seen Liam, Rafael, or Byron in the past 770 pages. 
It makes me smile, despite everything we’ve got waiting for us. Maybe she really is going to be okay on her own after all.
Chapter 150 summary: Macy explains that after the three of them were arrested, Nuri told them where the exit of the prison was. And that they’ve been waiting for them to come out ever since. 
Calder wakes up finally. She wasn’t out for long… Probably not even long enough for a guard to have discovered her “dead” body. It’s nothing more than plot convenience, but whatever. She starts flirting with all of the guys, so Grace thinks that there must not be any long-term effects. 
Some others show up, and say that Cyrus is marching for the unkillable beast right then. Macy starts to work on a portal. 
Grace goes over to Calder, who says that she’s going to wait there for Remy to get out. Grace feels bad for doing all of that for Calder and then bouncing, but Calder says that it’s okay. Grace then asks Jaxon for all of the money in his wallet, and when she says that it’s for Calder, the others quickly pull together over a thousand dollars. It’s not much in the long run, but it should help her to get back on her feet. The group of them then leave through Macy’s portal. 
Chapter 151
He breaks off as an explosion rips across the island. And then all hell breaks loose.
Chapter 151 summary: When they get to the island, they realize that Nuri and the dragon army is there already, circling the sky. The vampires go look around to make sure that the dragons hadn’t missed anything.
Hudson comes back to Grace, and tells her that everything is going to be okay. She isn’t so sure anymore. The original plan was for her use the crown to break the mating bond between her and Hudson, and mate herself with Jaxon again. But that was before the two of them fell in love with each other, which is the entire point of the bond! He tells her that he’s beyond ready to watch from the sidelines as Grace starts a family with his brother. But Grace no longer wants that. 
Before this can go any further, there’s an explosion. 
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Hide and Seek | Kang Seulgi
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police!seulgi x criminal!reader au
word count: 5.2k
genre and warnings: angst, suggestive, violence
(i do not own anything except this story)
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“Hands in the air where I can see them- and drop your weapons.”
A smirk creeped on my face as her voice rang through my ears- the familiar voice I was addicted to now. I did as I was told and dropped my dagger on the ground, the clattering of it ringing in the empty alley.
Empty except for me, my prey who had run away thanks to the police officer who was now twisting my hands behind my back, clipping handcuffs while I just smiled.
It was her. Again.
“You are under arrest for the attempted murder of an innocent civilian. You have the right to an attorney-”
“Oh please,” sarcasm dripped from my voice, “We’ve done this so many times, Seulgi. No need to repeat the same shit-”
“That’s Officer Kang to you,” she tightened her hold on my handcuffs, “Mind your manners.”
I scoffed, “You know, there’s another scenario that could be playing right now, with you handcuffing me- ouch!”
“Say things like this again and I’ll dig this gun deeper in your back- and maybe even shoot,” She growled in my ear, pushing me forward, making me walk to the police car. “Get inside.”
I huffed, obeying, pretending to look out of the car and watch the city fade by as we travelled to the police station, when in reality, my mind was occupied with two things, one of which was observing every step the police took and taking in everything- the escape routes, the protocols, etc.
The other… well. It concerned the very pretty officer sitting in the first seat-
“How many times are we going to do this?” Seulgi sighed, “We are one step away from getting your lawyer off your back, and then you won’t be able to walk free in the streets, ever.”
“That one step, honey, is gonna be one very long step and before you take that, I’ll have my backup ready.”
“Why are you even talking to this psycho?” The driver, a very annoying and fat man, scowled at me through the rear view mirror, “Don’t let this shit get through your head-”
“Don’t let me get through your head, mister.”
“Shut up,” Seulgi glared at the two of us, “My head is about to burst, I need silence.”
Unlike the other times when I would keep rambling nonsense and keep teasing Seulgi, this time, I kept quiet. Very, very quiet. And it was getting harder to hide the smirk from my face to see Seulgi squirming in the front seat, my gaze burning her, until she finally looked back at me, just a few minutes away from the station.
“You’re quiet today.”
I didn’t reply. Let it get to her. I only met eyes with her once, no sign of any emotion on my face and continued looking outside.
Let her think she had me this time. Let them think they have the upper hand.
As soon as we reached, I was escorted straight into my cell. The people here were familiar with me now- the maniac who never killed but almost did every time, the spoiled brat with connections so I was let out every time I attempted something. I was free.
And I was in control- I had everyone in the palm of my hand.
I knew Seulgi was watching me while she did whatever she was doing- wondering why no one was coming to my escape this time, wondering why I had rejected the offer of a phone call that I always took.
I felt victorious when, after a few hours, everyone had left-leaving me and Seulgi, who was packing her stuff to go home.
“Always working late, are you?”
With satisfaction, I watched Seulgi jerk at my voice- as she had almost forgotten I was still here. She confirmed my suspicion by saying it out loud.
“What are you really doing here?” Seulgi, finally having finished up, stood in front of my cell.
“You tell me, officer.”
Seulgi scoffed, “Officer? I’m seeing a lot of firsts from you today.”
I scoffed. “What are you doing, Seulgi? I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me- as you’ve so often told me. What are you doing here, standing so close to me?”
The way her body jerked as if she hadn’t noticed me come closer and closer every second brought a grin to my face. She tried taking a step back, but I grabbed her wrist- making sure my grip was loose but not loose enough. My thumb caressed her wrist but I made no effort to bring her closer. But from the look on her face- her eyes wide and mouth parted open in surprise, she knew I could do so many things to her.
But I didn’t.
I let her go.
Seulgi glanced at her wrist, then back at me, her expressions soon changing into a glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You tell me, Seulgi,” I sat back on the floor. “What do you think I’m doing?”
With that, Seulgi left and my body rumbled with laughter.
This was going to be fun.
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I was released the very next morning. And it seemed my plan had worked perfectly.
It had become a game of hide-and-seek now; me, who always got caught just at the right time by Officer Kang. It was a wonder that no one had made the connection yet.
I smiled as I wore my black outfit, gloves and mask- tonight was going to be fun.
Seulgi, of course, had been as disturbed as always to see me get released and not being escorted to the prison despite my long list of attempted murders. I always told her she should blame the people of this country for not abiding by the law and catching criminals like me instead of blaming me.
And she, of course, did not understand that.
Just before I had stepped out of the police station after being released, I had caught Seulgi’s eye- a very intense glare. I raised an eyebrow, and she just muttered that she won’t let me get away.
“You wouldn’t have to, Seulgi. Next time, you don’t have to let me get away.”
With a wink, I left, leaving her eyes wide with confusion.
I tightened my gloves as I ran over the plan again. Truthfully, I hadn’t the whole plan etched in my mind- but I knew how to get where I wanted to.
It was going to be the same trick- just the game that would be different this time.
Right before midnight, I left, knives sticking out from my belt hidden by the long raincoat I wore, strolling through streets and alleys until I finally found my prey.
A group of three girls were bullying one girl. A smirk formed on my face as I watched them, not attempting to break the thing apart. I decided to follow one of the bullies- the one who looked like the leader.
But before that, I walked to the victim, looming over her beaten figure, not offering her help, just observing her.
“How long are you going to be weak?”
“Don’t rub it in my face,” she moaned in pain, “Who are you anyway? Another bully?”
I shook my head, bending down to face her, “Do you want me to get rid of your bullies?”
I didn’t miss the glint that passed her eyes before they furrowed in confusion, “What are you going to do?”
“You should call the police,” I got up, straightening my coat and putting a hand on one of my knives, making sure the girl saw it and her eyes went wide with horror, “Tell them the girl’s about to get murdered. Tell them where I will be. And if you scream, it won’t be her who’s getting murdered tonight. Just do as I said.”
The girl had to gulp twice and slap herself before she took out her phone and I winked at her before following the trail of my prey. The other two girls were saying goodbye, and my prey was walking all alone in an alley.
“Perfect,” I muttered, following her until I heard the familiar blare of police sirens, right when I ran at her and threw her to the ground.
“Hello, little bully,” I pointed the knife at her face, “Want me to carve that permanent smirk you so like to wear?”
She screamed and I hit her temple with the hilt of my knife, “Shut up, bitch. This is what you get for being a scum.”
“I-I won’t do it again, I pro-promise. I’m sorry!”
I threw my head back as I laughed, dragging the knife down her arm, making blood spill, the girl struggling to move but failing because of how I had her trapped with my body on top of her. “How does this feel, sweetheart?”
I took my sweet time tormenting her, leaving little scars here and there until I heard the footsteps draw closer, which was when I raised my knife in the air-
“Hands in the air!”
I smirked, but pretended to sag with disappointment as I turned around, grinning as I saw Seulgi pointing her gun at me, and I dropped my weapon.
This was the last time I was dropping my weapon. The last time I was going to be submissive.
“There you go,” I shrugged, and Seulgi came to handcuff me, and as soon as she had cuffed my left hand, I grabbed her hands from my right hand and brought her closer, making her bump into me as she tried to wriggle away, horrified.
“Alone tonight, are you?” I scoffed, “Fell right into my trap, Seulgi.”
“What trap?” Seulgi scowled, glaring at me. I grabbed both her wrists by my cuffed hand while my free hand ran over her uniformed body.
“You ever wonder why I never actually murdered anyone?”
Seulgi raised a brow, “Because you don’t have the guts?”
I gave her a pointed look, “Nice of a police officer to provoke a potential murderer. No, Seulgi. It’s to mess with that little, stupid head of yours. Look at you, so distracted. Do you like me holding you like this?”
Seulgi turned her face away as I laughed in her hair, my face travelling down until I was breathing in her neck. I brought my mouth to her ear to whisper:
“I don’t see you struggling, sweetheart.”
She pushed me away, and I shook my head in warning, revealing her hand cuffed with mine, twirling the key to the handcuffs in my finger, proving just how distracted she had been to not notice me fishing out the key from her pocket.
“I swear to god, if you don’t give it back this instance-”
“Chill!” I un-cuffed her and put the key back in her pocket, “I was just messing with you.”
“You are under arrest for attempted murder, bla bla, you know the drill now, don’t you?” Seulgi, finally calming down after having taken a deep breath, dragged me to the car as she said the usual words, making me sit in the backseat.
It was time to play with her.
As we drove in silence, I scooted in the middle, staring holes into her. Seulgi tried her best to ignore me as she drove.
“I wonder why everyone was so busy tonight,” I pretended to play innocent, “It’s not like they had new evidence on a cold case, right?”
Seulgi almost hit the brakes as realization settled in. “What are you playing at?”
“You have two choices, Seulgi. You know I planned this. You can let me go and this game we’re playing will end right here. Or… you can take me to the station and you’ll become a player in my game- you’re already halfway in, by the way.”
“What. Game. Are. You. Playing. At?”
Seulgi was seething- something that made me grin. “Hide-and-seek, Seulgi. I know how you love to play that with me.”
Seulgi was breathing deeply now, as she tried to concentrate on her driving. The two minutes to the station while she made her decision had to be the longest two minutes of her life. She stopped the car in the parking lot, both her hands still on the steering wheel as she racked her brain, trying to come to a decision.
“We don’t have all night, Seulgi.”
“I can’t let you go.”
I raised my brow, a grin creeping on my face, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, I can’t let you roam around the streets and let you kill someone, as much as I would love to let you go and never see you again. So, you’re coming with me.”
“You are so gonna regret this before you start to love this.”
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” Seulgi got out of the car, opening the door and grabbing me by my arm harshly. “But this is over for you now. Whatever game you think you are playing, it’s not gonna work-”
I stiffened, turning harshly and putting my cuffed arms around her neck so that Seulgi was trapped between me and the car, smirking as I stared down at her, her eyes wide. I let her feel the adrenaline I knew she was feeling as I pressed my knee on her thigh, making her breath hitch.
I scanned her face slowly, making sure she noticed, before saying:
“It’s already working.”
She didn’t take her eyes off me for the few moments before we were interrupted by one of the officers threatening to shoot me if I tried something. I sighed, letting Seulgi go, waving my cuffed hands at the officer, satisfied when I saw her trying to get herself together.
“There’s only two reasons you’d look the way you’re looking right now, sweetheart. A dishevelled, flustered mess. One of them is that you’re scared of me- which I know you’re not. So… you know what it is now.”
“Don’t think for a second that I could ever feel that way about you-”
“What way, exactly, are you talking about?” I raised my brow, feigning innocence.
Seulgi, defeated, sighed before grabbing my arm harshly and taking out her gun, digging it into my back, earning a groan from me. “You’re shit.”
“Can’t say I’m not,” I let her drag me to the cell, watching her the entire time she was in my vision, pleased to see her squirming due to my burning gaze. I waited until everyone was gone or sleeping before starting to whistle.
“Can you keep it down?” Seulgi slammed her file on the table, and I turned to raise a brow at her.
“Make me.”
Seulgi only rolled her eyes, and I continued to whistle the same tune over and over until I saw Seulgi freeze from the corner of my eye.
“Made the connection yet?”
Her mouth was parted open in surprise as she racked her brain for where she had heard this specific tune-
“You followed me?”
“Did I now?”
Seulgi slammed a hand on the desk, rushing to my cell, gripping the bars, “How long have you been following me?”
I got up, treading towards her, licking my lips as I scanned her tense figure. “How long do you think?”
“Can you, for once, answer my question without a question?”
“I can, if you come inside.”
Seulgi bit her lip, thinking of whether she should be stupid and enter or be wise and just let me be. I smiled internally in satisfaction- her eyes betrayed her, always.
“I guess you’re not coming inside. Go away if you’re not.”
I turned to sit, but stopped when I heard the keys clinging, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling this time. She had taken the bait. Entering, she shut the door, putting her hands on her hips.
“Spill.”
“Where do you think you heard it?”
“I don’t think there’s one specific place…”
“Correct. Do you remember when we first met?”
Seulgi scoffed, “I don’t think I can forget the first time I handcuffed you- you were an animal-”
“Uh, let’s skip that part. Sure, I might have been a tad bit… aggressive. But Officer, that wasn’t the first time we met.”
Seulgi felt like a bucket of cold water had dropped on her. She stumbled a step back in realization, “It can’t be…”
“Oh, but it is, Officer.”
Seulgi was having a rough day- she had a very messy blind date, she wasn’t doing well with the murder case her squad was handling, and she just needed a break.
She sat on the bench in the very empty park, looking up at the dark sky. Even the moon was hidden. She sighed, wondering how she would ever muster up the strength to go back home.
Her attention was caught by a faint whistling tune. She turned her head to look around but there was no one there. She busied herself scrolling mindlessly through her phone when she heard footsteps, ignoring what sounded like a person jogging until the said person stopped in front of her, panting for breath.
“Can I sit here? I don’t have the strength to jog to the next bench.”
Seulgi eyed the person standing in front of her, shrugging as she nodded, and watched as the person took a long drink of water before smiling at her.
“Why jog at this time of the night? It’s not really safe out here these days.”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m a police officer, actually.”
“Then I’m safe, Officer.”
Seulgi shook her head, bringing herself back to her senses. “But you… You’re not…”
“Do you remember that time, Seulgi? You and me, sitting on the bench all night while you let your guard down and talked about how you had such a bad day…” I creeped forward, Seulgi frozen in her spot, “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me earlier. My disguise isn’t that perfect.”
If Seulgi was being honest with herself, she would have admitted that she had been reminded of the person she’d met that night once or maybe twice. But she had pushed it off as it just being a resemblance.
Because there was no way this was happening, right?
“I know you want me, Seulgi. Do you remember that time I was injured and you tended to my wounds like a good little girl?”
The both of us immediately went down memory lane-
“Are you stupid? Why would you risk your life apart from the victim’s?”
“Don’t tell me you care about my life, Officer.”
“I’m just extremely annoyed right now because there is no one in the station except you and me. Why do I have to be your nurse?”
“Oh come on. I’ll go to the hospital when I’m let out tomorrow- you know I will. I just need you to do something about this quick-” I pointed at the gash that ran down my arm, from near the elbow all the way down to the wrist. Seulgi rolled her eyes, searching for the first aid kit and then putting it outside the cell first, taking out the key to the handcuffs and entering, cuffing my unhurt arm with the bar.
Bringing a stool in front of me, she gripped my arm, turning it around to examine the bleeding scar, pretending my gaze wasn’t burning her. She glared at me once before cleaning the wound while I just watched her gentle movements.
“Why are you so kind, Seulgi?”
“What do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m a… criminal. But you always make sure I have water, or food- if I insist.  And you… care about people even when they’re like me. Why?”
“It’s my job-”
“No, this- this isn’t your job,” I sighed. I wasn’t particularly feeling high and ‘manic’ like my other days. Tonight wasn’t planned. It was just an unfortunate incident where I got caught and Seulgi being like this… wasn’t helping.
Seulgi put the cotton down and locked eyes with me. “You’re all humans. I cannot leave anyone like this.”
I just stared at her, my gaze going down to her parted lips. She noticed, clearing her throat and continuing to clean the wound.
“Do you ever think about leaving this job, just escaping from everything else and starting new?”
“Do you?” Seulgi started applying an ointment on my wound.
“We all do, don’t we?” I sighed, “If I had the chance… I’d leave, Seulgi. I’d leave this life behind, go to an island… or maybe the mountains. It would be just me and my cats-”
“Cats?” Seulgi laughed a little, and I smiled, despite myself.
“Yes, Seulgi, cats. I don’t always go around bloodthirsty, you know. I have a life too.”
“Right.”
“Anyways, I’d bake cookies. The house would be small, and there would be books, and I’d sit by the fireplace. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”
“It does, actually,” she nodded, and I noticed she was done, but still had my arm in her hand, staring at the wound.
“It’d obviously be better if I had human company too…”
“So you could kill them later?” Seulgi finally looked up at me.
“I’d never do that to you.”
For a second, Seulgi was surprised- and so was I, because I had obviously been thinking of her when I said that. Seulgi shook her head, tucking her hair behind as she started packing the first aid kit, about to leave when I gripped her hand.
“Can you… stay with me- for a few minutes? I… tonight wasn’t something I was expecting.”
Seulgi wasn’t sure what I was referring to, but she put her kit down. “You sound vulnerable. For once.”
“I am,” I admitted, slumping back, “I am so vulnerable right now that you can do whatever you please with me. Kill me, kiss me, I won’t care.”
“There is no killing or kissing happening,” Seulgi shook her head, but I smiled when I saw a ghost of a smile on her face too, “As much as I would like…”
“Kissing me?”
“Killing you,” Seulgi smiled sarcastically, “I’d have to hold my temptations.”
“And if I can’t hold mine?” I leaned forward, taking her hand in my free hand, bringing her closer, “if I can’t resist?”
“Killing me?” Seulgi asked.
“Does it look like I’m about to kill you?” I asked, my eyes scanning her face, the two of us so close we could feel each other’s breath on our skin.
Seulgi made no move to scoot away- as if mesmerized, she sat still, only her eyes roaming around my face, as if trying to read what I was thinking.
“You can go, if you want to,” I whispered, my hand caressing her arm and then moving up her chest, all the way to her neck, until it went to cup her face, and Seulgi couldn’t calm the roiling in her stomach.
How could someone as savage as the person in front of her have such a fragile touch? Hold her like she could break?
She forgot what I had just said, her breath quickening every second as I drew closer and closer, until our foreheads were joined. But I heard the sound of the keys dangling. We had company.
I drew back, scanning her face once before kissing her forehead, good and slow. “We have company. Go.”
Seulgi sat frozen in her spot- until I tapped her face lightly. “Go.”
She stumbled as she took the kit and left, forgetting to cuff me back. I just slumped back, watching her, smiling at how the night had turned out.
“So,” I smirked at how Seulgi was clenching her head now, as she made all the connections.
“Are you… doing this all on purpose? How long have you planned this?”
“Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t on purpose? That our first meeting- as normal people, and as a police and a criminal were both coincidental?”
“I don’t think I can…”
“Come on,” I turned around, pretending to walk in the cell when I was actually un-cuffing myself from the key I had replaced in Seulgi’s pocket. “I’m a criminal, maybe, yes, but I’m not a liar.”
“I wouldn’t put that past you,” Seulgi countered, “You’ve been stalking me. Am I one of your next ‘victims’? Is this what all of this is about?”
I turned, smiling, approaching her until we were face to face. “Look at me, Seulgi. Look me in the eyes and tell me if I’m lying.”
While she took the bait and looked me in the eyes, I took the cuffs off one hand, took her gun out of her pocket in the blink of an eye and before she could react, I threw it outside the cell from the slightly open door, her neck whipping as she saw just what I had done, and I gripped both her wrists.
“Got you.”
In a second, I cuffed her right hand with my left and threw the key outside too.
“Are you out of your mind!” Seulgi slapped my face- or at least tried to- she was interrupted with me dragging her across and shutting the cell, the keys outside dropping to the floor.
“Oh my god,” Seulgi, horrified, slammed her fist in my chest repeatedly, “What have you done!”
“I told you to let me go, didn’t I?” I growled in her ear, and she went still, her fist still on my chest as she sighed in frustration. “You did this, Seulgi.”
I put her dark hair behind her shoulder, running my fingers across her jaw as I whispered, “It’s just you and me tonight here, baby. I made sure of that. No one will know what happened, not even the cameras- it would be over before the morning. So relax… and let go.”
Seulgi was helpless- she couldn’t do anything now- and ashamed. She had been too distracted. She had played right into this trap.
“Relax,” I whispered, bringing my lips to her ears, trailing it down her jaw as I tilted her face up, “I know you want this.
“Why are you doing this to me?” She almost whispered, “Why me?”
“You had me, Seulgi. Right from the very beginning. There’s just something about you that I couldn’t resist. I’m all yours- do whatever you want with me.”
Seulgi bit her lip, trying to hold herself together, but every move I was making was affecting her, shaking her from the inside out. Her legs were growing weaker, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the situation she had just caught herself in- or something else entirely.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do this.”
I held her chin in my hand as I kissed her right cheekbone, then her left, locking eyes with her- but she wasn’t looking at me anymore.
“Don’t look away from me, Seulgi. There’s nothing wrong with what you feel right now… we’re all… humans, aren’t we?”
Seulgi scoffed at me quoting her but changing the context entirely. I nudged her face up and she finally looked at me, her eyes glazed.
“This is wrong-“
“There’s nothing wrong with this,” I assured her, “Obviously would have been better if we were in different circumstances, but Seulgi- there’s nothing wrong with this.”
It was like she was compelled- she shut her eyes, unable to hold the eye contact any longer. I smiled as I rubbed my nose with her, her sighs fuelling me.
“Tell me you want this. Tell me you do.”
I planted butterfly kisses on her face, stopping before I reached her lips.
“I’m going to ask you one last time. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go right now. Tell me you want this-”
My breath hitched when I felt her fisting my shirt, her other hand that was cuffed to mine intertwining, her nails digging into my skin.
“Don’t make me say it out loud,” she whispered, despite herself.
She should be fired from her job. She was going to be so ashamed after this- but she couldn’t stop. She brought me closer and I cupped her face as I brought her lips to mine.
It was indescribable- the feeling of finally having someone- this forbidden something we had- but it was like a drug, and she felt it too as she kissed me back with a need I didn’t know she had in her. Her hand went to cup my face as well, my breath hitching this time as she kissed me, harshly, as if she was punishing me through this.
“Slow down,” I broke apart, smirking.
“Slow down?” Seulgi mocked, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
My brows furrowed in confusion, but when she pecked my lips lightly this time, I relaxed.
“I shouldn’t be doing this, should I?”
“Let’s not think about that,” I kissed her, slow this time, taking in the marvelling feeling of how our lips fit as if made for each other, our stomachs roiling as our free hands roamed around, until she bit my lip and I took that as a sign to put my tongue in her mouth, our kisses growing quicker and more passionate as we made out.
Seulgi pushed me back and back until I hit the wall, and I growled into her mouth- it was time to show her who really was in control. I turned and slammed her body into the wall, my knee going in between her legs making her breath hitch harshly as she stared at me, eyes full with lust.
“Look at you,” I caressed her jaw with my thumb, “Look at how much you want this.”
For maybe an hour it was just us making out, whispering dirty little things in each other’s ears, me telling her that this was okay, that us made sense, that we should just forget about being a cop and a criminal while we were at it.
“Seulgi,” I sighed into her ear while she was playing with my neck, “Do you want to run away with me?”
Seulgi paused, burying her face in the crook of my neck and I hugged her this time, somehow the hug hitting me harder than the passionate make-out we just had. “We could have that life, Seulgi. Your dream life- whatever you want, wherever you want. Just say the word.”
“What about work, and my friends-”
“It’s your choice, Seulgi. I won’t force you into this. I know you have a life here- however… boring it may be. We’ll have to stay low-profile for a good while and then, if you want, we can let your friends- only the close ones- know. They won’t recognize me anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Our cuffed hands were caressing each other as she thought, and I just melted into the hug because if she disagreed… it would be our last time being this close to each other.
“If I don’t agree?”
I sighed, kissing her head, “I’ll leave. Forever. I can’t have a forced relation- not with you.”
Her arm around my waist tightened.
“Then let’s run away.”
317 notes · View notes
lipstickstainz · 4 years
Text
just a few days - s. r.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: There’s no denying that Spencer and you hate each other. What happens, when you are forced to spend a few days together?  Warnings: enemies to lovers, language, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), typical criminal minds stuff Word Count: 4.5k A/N: hello friends. this is my first one shot and I hope you like it. gif not mine.  
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„I didn’t think you could be any more of a shithead, but you just proved me wrong.“
Many people believe in love at first sight. The heart starts racing, the knees go weak and you feel dizzy. You want to get to know the other person at all costs. Which is total bullshit, of course. You can't fall in love with someone at first sight. Interest, yes, but that's not love.
With Spencer and you it was different. The first time you met, you were breathless. Your muscles tensed to the breaking point, the blood pulsed in your ears, and your stomach turned. Only, in your case, it definitely wasn't love.
„I saw a trash bag on the side of the road today. Reminded me of you“, you shot back and Spencer rolled his eyes.
Hate at first sight really did exist, and Spencer and you were the prime example.
There was always a stupid comment, a scathing sideways glance, or catty laughter. Neither of you took it personally - why would you? You weren't interested in each other's opinions - and it didn't interfere with your work, which is why Hotch didn't say anything about it. It annoyed him, but he had also noticed that the quality of your work was higher when you were at each other's throats than when you worked separately.
You couldn't even remember why you had been so hostile to each other from the beginning. It was mutual antipathy, but no one knew why. You didn't know each other from anywhere else, had never met anywhere. Actually, you were someone who gave people a chance first to get to know them reasonably, but with Spencer it only took one look before you were sure you definitely didn't like him. Was it his aura? His charisma? His constant need to be smarter than everyone else?
At first, the two of you had been holding back. You had been professional with each other, staying out of each other's way as much as possible and not exchanging more words than necessary. Everything had been fine until one day something slipped out of Spencer's mouth. The team had been sitting in the conference room discussing the latest case. You had said something about the murder weapon when Spencer had rolled his eyes.
"Is something wrong?" you had asked him, annoyed. Spencer sat up straight in his chair and grabbed the crime scene photo.
"I've never heard anything so stupid," he said, looking at you with amusement.
"Excuse me?"
"Stop it," Hotch intervened. "We don't have time for bitching. JJ, inform the department we're on our way. Wheels up in thirty."
From that moment on, there was no turning back. You tried to belittle each other, but Hotch had forbidden you to relate it to work. Teasing and mean statements were allowed, but you were not allowed to get in the way of your work. And the most important thing: no arguing in front of outsiders. The team was used to it, but if others got wind of it, it would undermine your authority. So you had to pull yourselves together at times. Which was no problem.
Once inside the police department, Hotch divided the team. "Y/L/N, Reid, you'll go to the crime scene and examine the house for any abnormalities that might indicate motive," he said, and you looked at each other with disgust in your eyes. Hotch cleared his throat and gave you a look that said, "Get your act together or I'll send you home."
On the way to the scene, the radio was playing and you hummed the tune contentedly. You almost forgot who you were in the car with if Spencer hadn't suddenly turned off the radio. You made an annoyed noise.
"I wanted to hear that."
"I know," Spencer grinned, glancing at you briefly before looking out the window again. "And that's why I turned it off."
Sometimes you could strangle him.
The house was pretty run down from the outside. Spencer and you looked at each other. "If I had to hide your body somewhere, it would be right here," you grinned, walking toward the front door.
"I won't give you the satisfaction of killing me," he said, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. "My death should have meaning. I'm not going to let someone like you kill me over that."
The interior of the house was in complete contrast to the exterior. Every room was cleaned and tidy, there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and the way magazines, pictures, and other decorations had been laid down indicated -.
"OCD," Spencer noted. "Look, Y/N. The magazines all have the same number of pages, the picture frames on the windowsill are all the same distance apart, and -" , he opened a cabinet in the kitchen, "the handles on the cups all point in the same direction."
"So the person has damage like yours," you said, surveying the pictures in the hallway. Luckily there were only two of you, or you would have had to stifle the comment.
"Ha. Ha. I don't have OCD."
"You still have some damage. Forensics said traces of bleach were found throughout the house," you added to his insight, walking down the hall. "The unsub cleaned and left everything like this."
"And how would you know that?" asked Spencer, who had followed you. In the ceiling in the hallway was the hatch that led you to the attic.
"The pictures in the hallway are not of the victim. They're printed photos of people from the Internet. There is no connection." You climbed the ladder and what awaited you there did not surprise you.  The attic was filled with junk. It seemed like everything had just been shoved in. But again, there was not a woolly mouse to be seen.
"Apparently, the unsub places a lot of importance on maintaining the appearance of orderly, clean living."
You nodded at him and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. "Garcia, please search for wealthy families where children have been hospitalized with broken bones, hematomas or other injuries," you said, and Spencer snatched the phone from your hand. Annoyed, you looked at him.
"Equate that to sports injuries again, please. Thank you," he asked her before hanging up and tossing you the phone.
"Sports injuries?" you asked him, and he nodded.
"No parents would take their child to the hospital with injuries like that without an explanation. Sports injury is a good way to disguise something like that," he explained and you left the loft. When you got back into the car, you looked at him.
"If you snatch that phone out of my hand again, you'll be the next one with a slit throat," you smiled sweetly at him.
Spencer laughed out loud. "You grow a few more inches first, then maybe you can get to my throat."
Back at the precinct, the team profiled him and shared it with detectives. The plan was to lure him out of hiding and hope he would say or do something so you could arrest him.
"Bailey is targeting young couples in their twenties and thirties who are still in the early stages of their lives. They all moved in together a few days before they died. They were all very messy, which showed not only in their apartment, but also in their style of dress," Rossi explained.
"That's why two of our team will go undercover to draw him out," Hotch continued, giving Spencer and you a meaningful look. You knew what that meant. And you weren't in the mood for that. "Agent Y/L/N and Doctor Reid will be moving into a house on the outskirts of town, in the exact area where the last victim was found. Since he likes to return to the scene of his crime, he'll take notice."
"And then what do we do?" the sheriff asked, writing diligently.
"He'll show up a few days later and then we can go get him," Emily brought the conversation to a close and the group broke up. Hotch motioned Spencer and you to come with him to an adjoining room.
"I blindsided you with the proposal, and for that I'm sorry," he said, looking from Spencer to you, "but I'm afraid we have no choice. Tomorrow morning you'll move into the house and then it's only a matter of time before he comes. Just a few days. And until then, please try not to kill each other."
Spencer and you had been sitting together all night, working out a plan. Not only did you have to pretend to be a happy couple in front of others, you had to pretend behind closed doors. And that certainly wasn't going to be easy.
"Spencer, I'm only going to ask you this once," you began. "Are you okay with me touching you? Otherwise, we'll have to figure something else out. You can't flinch when I reach for your hand or give you a kiss on the cheek, even if I don't want to do that myself."
"I can handle that," he grinned. "As long as you promise not to snuggle up to me in your sleep. Because then I'll have to vomit."
Hotch was pretty happy with your plan and wished you good luck. He didn't want to bug the house because you still needed privacy, but the whole team was on speed dial. Besides, the others would take turns watching you. You weren't afraid, but knowing the others were always there calmed you down a bit.
The next morning, Spencer and you drove to your house. It looked a lot like the last victim's house. One story and an attic, the front yard hadn't been tended in ages. Spencer parked the car in the driveway and got out first so he could open the door for you like a gentleman.
"Are you ready for our new life?" he smiled, pulling you into his arms before you headed toward the door. His perfume was so strong it clouded your mind.
"With you, I'm ready for anything," you returned, placing your lips on his cheek.
Living with Spencer was more pleasant than you had imagined. You spent most of your time together in silence, Spencer with a book and you with music or magazines. You didn't avoid each other either, but spent every second together. Spencer always helped you cook and you helped him do laundry. You even went shopping together. There were little spats in between, but otherwise you got along fine.
You also noticed some things about Spencer that had completely escaped your attention until now. For example, he always had several books lying next to him when he read one. Which made sense if he finished one of them within ten minutes. Also, he would always mouth off a little when he was talking about something that was bothering him. And when he was talking about something he liked, he spoke with an incredible passion that was contagious.
What surprised you the most was sleeping next to each other. Since you also had to pretend to be overjoyed at home, you had also planned to share a bed. It was the most sensible and the easiest. Spencer's presence even calmed you down when you woke up in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream, and his regular breathing in the evening helped you fall asleep.
On the fourth night, a nightmare jolted you from sleep. You didn't remember what exactly you had dreamed, but you knew that you wouldn't fall asleep again so quickly. As quietly as you could, you got out of bed, not wanting to wake Spencer, and went to the kitchen. You flipped on the light over the stove, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. After a big gulp, you felt better, but still worried. Tired, you leaned against the counter and rubbed your hand over your face.
"Are you alright?" asked Spencer, entering the kitchen. He was wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers. Something you hadn't noticed before.
"I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry," you said honestly, putting the glass in the sink. Spencer just smiled, "I had a nightmare."
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing next to you, you shook your head. "Okay." He was about to head back toward the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway. Spencer looked at you and you smiled weakly. He approached you again and reached for your hand. Carefully he pulled you to him and put his free hand on your lower back to press you closer to him. You laid your head against his chest and could hear his heartbeat. Then Spencer slowly rocked back and forth.
No one said a word as you danced with each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night. You enjoyed each other's presence and warmth. Spencer put a finger under your chin and made you look at him. There was no hate or dislike in his eyes. There was a twinkle in them that confused you greatly. Gently, he placed his lips on your forehead before pulling away.
"Let's go back to sleep," he smiled, pulling you by the hand back into the bedroom. In bed, he reached his arms out to you so you could lay your head on his chest. There it was again, his heartbeat. But this time it was faster, steady, but faster. Spencer reached for your hand again and intertwined your fingers.  "Sleep well, Y/N," he was still whispering, but you were barely aware of it. You had never fallen asleep so quickly.
The next day, the two of you went for a walk in the evening. Spencer's hand in yours no longer felt strange, but very familiar. The whole relationship between you had changed fundamentally. There was no more bitching, no more evil glances, no more spiteful laughter. You wondered if it would stay that way when you left the house, or if you would go back to your old ways. Secretly, you hoped that you would remain friends when all this was over. Even though you had only been here a short time, you had actually grown fond of Spencer. You just hoped he felt the same way about you.
"Y/N," Spencer whispered when you reached your street.
"Huh?" You looked up at him and he smiled lovingly at you. You would never get enough of that look.
"Please look at me when I tell you this now. There's a man walking across the street, right at our level, with his hood pulled over his head," he continued to whisper and I tried not to let on. "He's been following us for two blocks. I think it's him."
I nodded. "We need to show him that we are to be his next victims," you stated. When you arrived at your house, Spencer pulled you even closer. You knew what was coming. You didn't resist, and not because it was part of your plan, but because you were waiting for it.
Spencer put his hands to your cheeks and leaned down to put his lips on yours. Your heart started racing, your knees went weak, and you felt dizzy. If Spencer hadn't been holding you, you would have slipped through his fingers. His lips were soft and warm and when you kissed him back, a grumble sounded from his chest. One of his hands moved to your butt, pressing your hips against his as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You felt hot and warm shivers ran down your spine. You tried not to think about the fact that you could feel his erection against your belly, but failed miserably.
With his other hand, Spencer reached for the key and opened the door without breaking away from you, then pushed you into the house where he could have pulled away from you, but he didn't. His kisses grew hungrier and greedier, his hands reaching under your butt so he could lift you up. Your legs knotted behind him. He carried you toward the bedroom and pressed you against the wall. You rubbed your hips against his and he moaned into your mouth.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, sliding a hand under your shirt. His fingers danced over your bare skin and his touch burned into your skin. You wished this moment would never end.
"Cameron Bailey, put the knife down and raise your hands," Derek called out. Spencer and you jumped apart, completely confused and gasping for air, and saw the team standing in your bedroom. Derek took Bailey into custody and led him away. How had you not noticed that he had come into the house?
"Are you all right?" asked Emily, but you could only nod. What would have happened if Bailey hadn't broken in? How far would Spencer and you have gone?
It wasn't long before the team was back on the plane. Spencer sat alone at one end of the plane and you at the other. You hadn't had time to talk about what had happened, because after Bailey was arrested, you had packed your things and gone to the airport with the others. But what did you want to talk about? About the kiss? About the touch? About your friendship, if you could call it that? Never in your life had you been so uncertain as at that moment.
Spencer probably didn't want anything more to do with you, and you tried to tell yourself that you were okay with that. You tried to adjust to things going back to the way they were. It scared you that deep down you cared. You had hated Spencer for years and just a few days with him had completely turned your feelings upside down. And that bothered you the most.
"I could use a beer right now," Derek said when you arrived at Quantico. "Anyone coming?"
"I'm going home," you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "My shower is waiting for me and my bed is calling for me too."
"Same here," Spencer gave and together you walked to the elevator while the others talked about where to go to celebrate. The silence between Spencer and you was unbearable, both outside the elevator and inside. You wanted to say something, but couldn't manage more than a guarded smile, which he kindly returned. At least no more bitching.
"Good night, Y/N," he said goodbye and left without turning around once more. You took a deep breath and headed home as well.
Once home, you dropped your bag on the floor and tried to wash off Spencer's touch in the shower. You brushed your teeth to scrub his taste from your tongue, but nothing could chase away the thoughts that haunted your mind. You put on fresh panties and an oversized shirt, which ended just below your butt. You were on your way to the couch when there was a knock on your door.
Without hesitation you opened the door and your heart stopped. Spencer stood in front of you, hands buried in his pockets and a small smile on his lips. "Hi."
"Hey," you said softly, and you didn't realize until then that you were standing in front of him half-naked. Embarrassed, you pulled the hem of your shirt down further. He glanced briefly at your hands and blushed before looking you in the eye again.
"I know this probably sounds stupid, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep alone tonight. I've gotten used to sleeping next to you and after today, I don't think either of us should spend the night alone," he babbled, entering your apartment without prompting. You shut the door behind him. "Besides, there's something I wanted to do." Carefully he put his bag on the kitchen counter and came towards you with long steps.
It was not five seconds before he pressed his mouth on yours and a sigh came out of your mouth. His hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so greedily they moved over your body, while yours got caught in his hair. When his fingers grazed your bare skin on your legs, you slumped against him.
"I didn't want to let you go home alone," he whispered between kisses, looking deep into your eyes. "I didn't want to sit so far away from you on the plane either, and when I got home, all I wanted was to be with you." His tongue dominated yours as his hands slid under your shirt. Your skin burned like fire where he touched you. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Please tell me to stop and leave. Because if you don't do it now, I'll stay forever."
You went to kiss him, but he broke away from you and grabbed your chin with one hand, making you look at him. He was expecting a response. "Stay, Spencer. Stay forever and I'm yours."
That's all the confirmation he needed. His hands were on your hips again, but moved further down to briefly stroke your ass before leaning down and grabbing the back of your thighs. Without effort, he lifted you up and his lips assaulted your neck, and as he sucked on the soft spot where your jaw met your neck, all you could do was whimper his name.
Spencer carried you into your bedroom with ease, his mouth never leaving your heated skin. The warmth in your body grew with each kiss as he gently laid you on the bed.  You pushed yourself to the head of the bed, allowing your head to rest on the soft pillow as Spencers hovered over you to kiss your neck.
His lips moved to your collarbone, his hands slid under your shirt and you arched up to meet him so he could easily pull it off. Hastily you reached for his shirt and undid the buttons to rip it from his torso. His weight was heavy on you and his hot skin almost burned you with every further touch. Without a word, you unbuttoned his pants and he kicked them off his long legs. For a brief moment you looked at each other. In that look were all the apologies you wanted to say, but that was no longer important. What was important was the man in front of you, the man you had fallen head over heels in love with in just a few days.
You put your hands on Spencer's back and felt the muscles dancing under your fingers. You took a quick glance at his black boxer briefs, which already seemed a little too tight for him.
"God, you're beautiful," he moaned as he glanced down your body. His hands were on your breasts and he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, you arched up to meet him.
"Spencer," you moaned, "no teasing. Please," you begged, closing your eyes to feel his touch more intensely. When you opened your eyes again, you could see a crooked grin on his face. He was enjoying your begging. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your panties and you could hear him ripping them. Cool air met your hot core and Spencer's boxers landed on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You had to swallow. He was long and surprisingly thick and you wondered if he would fit. Spencer looked at you silently with raised eyebrows.
"I'm on the pill," you explained, grabbing his shaft with your hand and running your thumb over the tip to smear the pre-cum, making him moan with pleasure. You pumped him two times before Spencer grabbed your wrist.
"I won't last long if you keep this up, love," he rasped, guiding his pulsing erection to your wet entrance. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him so close to you that there wasn't an inch between you. He looked at you one more time, searching for something in your face, but you just smiled at him, drunk with love. And then he glided home.
His cock was stretching you like no man before did and it almost hurt, but with the pain came the pleasure. Spencer rested his forehead on yours and his breath was hot on your skin. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You leaned into his gentle touch.
"Move, please, Spence," you purred, and that was all he needed. He withdrew almost completely from you before thrusting into you again. He quickly found a steady pace and his length stroked all the right places. The heat between your thighs spiraled in your belly and you dug your nails into Spencer's back.
"Spencer, fuck," you breathed and he grinned before pressing his lips to your throat and gently biting your collarbone. Before you knew it, he was sliding his hand between your bodies and rubbing furiously over your clit and it was all getting too much for you.
Your nails raked across his skin and certainly left a few marks on as you climaxed and your vision went black.You spasmed around his cock and felt it twitch inside you.  Spencer moaned a mixture of swear words and your name as he coated your walls with his cum, his fingers digging into your hips and probably bruising them.
He placed his lips on yours one last time before carefully pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. "Careful, love," he says softly, running it along between your legs to wipe your mingled cum. When he touched your sensitive clit, you flinched involuntarily. He returned the washcloth to the bathroom before lying back down with you. He pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. "Can I tell you something?" he breathed, you looked up at him quite exhausted.
"Of course."
He smiled lovingly. "I've fallen head over heels in love with you in the last few days," he confessed and your heart stopped. "The moment you laid your head on my chest in bed. You turned my whole world upside down and I can't imagine spending a single day without you anymore."
"You don't have to," you replied, putting your hand to the back of his head so you could pull him down to you. Gently you placed your lips on his and you felt his cock twitch against your belly. That's how strong your effect on him was. "I love you, Spencer."
In one fluid motion, he rolled onto you and pressed his mouth onto yours. This kiss was like the one in the house, angry, hungry and greedy. His hand slid between your legs and his fingers gently circled your clit. Your legs twitched and he pushed further down so he was eye level with your cunt. Gently he slid two fingers inside you and you moaned loudly. "I love you, Y/N. Don’t you dare forget it, when I make you scream and cum around my tounge.“ He licked long stripe from your entrance to your clit and gently sucking on it. Your body shook under his tounge and touch, as he slipped to fingers into your dripping cunt again. „Are you ready for round two?"
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glowingbadger · 3 years
Note
Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.
Good God I need to secure my windows-
I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE
Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~
This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?
I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha
TW: A brief mention of non-con
Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)
Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?
"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"
"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."
~
It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.
Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.
Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.
Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,
"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."
"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."
His expression is inscrutable as he replies,
"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."
"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.
~
Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.
And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.
Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.
"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."
It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,
"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.
"You think so..?"
"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."
You smile warmly and nod,
"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."
The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.
At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.
Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.
It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,
"One moment."
You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,
"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."
It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,
"Oh, uhm..."
"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."
Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.
"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."
"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."
He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.
"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"
"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"
Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,
"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.
"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."
Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,
"You won't."
His visible eye narrows.
"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"
You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.
"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."
For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,
"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."
Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,
"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."
When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.
You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.
Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.
It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.
"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.
"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."
Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,
"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."
You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,
"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."
He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.
"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."
You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.
What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.
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ktheist · 4 years
Text
take my whole life too | m
Tumblr media
muses. jeongguk x heir!reader
genre. chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.
words. 5k
warnings. dad!jeongguk, house husband!jeongguk, simp!jeongguk, implied smut verging on actual smut, mentions of break up and arguments
x
you never gave much thought for jeon jeongguk - not for how he looks, not for how much he makes, not for how compatible you are together. nothing. so much for promising to stay together through health and sickness till death do you apart.
but that’s just the thing, you were willing to let go of your heart in exchange for the wealth of your family. which is inherently yours until the findings of your grandfather’s will appointing his administrators the task of safeguarding the billions of dollar estate against his unmarried granddaughter who to be fair, has always had her eyes on that bejeweled ring of his. it’s less about the diamond and more about what possessing - legally, of course - the ring could do. for one, nobody could challenge your legitimacy as the chairman of luxean. and boy, do your overbearing aunties like to nitpick every little thing you do at the board meeting just to put their sons and daughters in a better light.
so yeah, you would say sacrificing your non-existent possibility of falling in love would suffice. plus, jeongguk can go shopping for convertibles with a swipe of a card, fly from london to italy to greece and back to london within one night. heck, he can even have a steamy hot night with the locals and bring back a greek goddess of a mistress if he wanted to.
except for one problem: he wants to do all those things with you.
well, considering how he stripped down to just pants with the buckle undone and protrusion of well defined abs that leads to a tantalizing v-line beneath the contrasting black band of his calvin klein halfway to the bedroom of your suite after the ceremony, completely disregarding the fact you never spoke to him unless you were in the presence of other people - watching eyes - and the limited time you have to change into your second outfits, you figured he’d want more than just hot and steamy nights in paris and peaceful quiet mornings in athens in your sundress and off white spring hats.
he either hasn’t figured out that he’s just a tool for you to gain public opinion or he doesn’t particularly care as long as he’s getting some.
“you’re leaving?” the voice that asked the very obvious question bears a sort of despondency to it.
when you turn to face the man lying naked - and looking like a well sculpted greek god at that - in the bed, you curse yourself for forgetting the one simple thing that you promise yourself not to do: look at him in the eye. by god, you’ve never seen anyone -  any man - who could be so good at weakening your resolution and making you want to climb into bed and cuddle him like a puppy.
“didn’t soyeon tell you i have a meeting?” you manage to sound casual about it for the most part as you put on the earrings that lie abandoned on the vanity when jeongguk came in just before you were almost done with your make up and bent you over the vanity to fuck you once before carrying you to the bed and fuck you in your sensitive state.
“i know,” he mumbles.
and when only silence follows suit, you can’t help but let your hands rest on your hip as you raise your eyebrows, “but?”
it takes a moment of the man trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and leaving it with a sort of pinkish shine when he releases it, “can we have another go?”
“you’re hard?” this time, the surprise in your voice is unconcealable, “again?”
“i know - i’m sorry - it’s just... that dress looks really good on you,” he doesn’t even bother to hide his ogling.
so to answer the question of whether you fucked him that time at your suite when you were supposed to change, yes you did.
“sounds like a you kind of problem,” you wave with the hand that picked up your purse - all your essentials already there, “go out and have a look at athens before we fly for london tomorrow - oh and maybe grab some dinner for yourself.”
“when will you be back?” as much as you like to think you’re indifferent to your husband, you can’t help but think he looks endearing for shying away from your gaze and rubbing the back of his head hesitantly, “i thought maybe we could have dinner together.”
there’s a strain in his voice but you brush it off, shrugging, “what do you think meetings like this are held over? i am going for dinner,” you want to take that back as soon as it escaped your lips but instead, you turn around, “anyways, don’t wait up.”
that’s one habit that he seems to have - waiting for you until you climb into bed with him after long hours of frying your eyes in front of the laptop in the common area.
either way, you strut out of your suite, leaving your husband with a semi-hard cock, you didn’t miss the way it twitched at your blatant rejection just before you turned your back on him.
and so you go about your day, the meeting coming to a close flawlessly as with a signed contract and a meal worthy of the restaurant’s reputation. by the time you thought the approaching figure from the corner of your eyes is the waiter bringing your desserts, kim taehyung was in the middle of thanking you “for meeting me on such a short notice, on your honeymoon at that.”
“i should thank you for reaching out to my secretary when you heard i’d be here too,” you chuckle, hand pushing a stray hair to the back of your ear before your gaze travels up to meet the man’s, “my grandfather always says, there’s no security on this earth, only opportunity,” raising the wine glass mid air, you offer him a smile, “and god does not help anyone seize it unless they do so themselves.”
“the late chairman was a wise man,” he raises his own glass, only to freeze at an awkward angle when the waiter finally approaches you.
except it isn’t the waiter. 
it’s-
“___,” a voice fills your ears like velvet on skin, you already know who it belongs to before you even look up at the man whose out-of-character furrowed brows and pressed lips all but makes you want to shoot up from your seat and spout out explanations you don’t even owe him, “i thought i’d pick you up since it’s,” he checks his rolex - it was the first thing you bought him after assessing his lack of accessory after you’d both signed the contract, “half an hour till midnight and the polignotou isn’t going to wait for us.”
taehyung is the one to break the silence, “it seems i’ve taken up too much of your time.”
before you can even refute it, he’s already standing up and fixing his blazer before stepping to the side to properly face your husband. 
“congratulations of your marriage, mr. jeon,” then he turns to you, his smile just as excellent at yours when it comes to hiding your emotions and that could only mean that tonight is drawing to an end on a bad note thanks to your husband’s interruption, “mrs. jeon.”
and with a final words of ‘i’ll have my secretary send you the papers soon’, he’s gone like the wind.
“what are you doing here? i told you i had a meeting! not gallivanting with some greek men!” the words come out in a low hiss when he takes the abandoned seat across from you as you gaze around the vicinity in case there are other business acquaintances that happen to know you.
“i’m sorry -” he mumbles out, “i was walking down the streets and i saw you at the balcony of the restaurant and-” he stops short of his words, tongue darting out over his lower lip for the briefest moment.
“and?” you echo, brows arched.
“i got jealous of seeing you with another guy,” his voice is barely above whisper but you hear it loud and clear.
you’re almost sure that you’ve slipped but and let your eyes narrow at him like a puzzle that you can’t figure out but it’s gone in a heartbeat as you pick up your purse and clear your throat. possibly in search for the right words to say but perhaps also an admittance of your caught-off-guard situation.
either way you stand up, “let’s go, the street starts getting scarcer by 2 and i’d rather stay safe and walk with more people than less.”
x
you did end up walking.
it was a halfway walk but it’s still a walk, that was, until you saw jeongguk pulling on the material of his pants every two minutes. the lack of lights did well to hide it but even then, your eyes automatically pans towards the noticeable protrusion in between his legs. as if your body has completely adapted to his scent - that subtle but evident scent of masculinity, his gaze - the pure, unadulterated desire within the shadows in his eyes and his touch - the way his hand seems to inch lower down your ass before he traces back up to settle on the dip of your spine before it left you cold and unattended when he started to tug on his pants.
“jeongguk -ah, fuck,” you bite back the moan that spills over your lips, “you’re making too much noise.”
“yeah?” his voice bears a lull to it as he thrusts in and out of you in the way that makes your legs come together and your heart leap all the way to your throat as your hands grip onto the dampened cart jeongguk pushed you against in the closest alleyway you were walking towards before he bent you over, lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down.
not even a minute passed before you felt him inside you. and by god, did you feel filled to the brim. the sheen of sweat coating your skin is cold against the chilly night air, the sinful sounds echoing off the walls makes you pray for the first time in a long time that no one is nearby and the way jeongguk is hitting all your sweet spots has you gritting your teeth in hopes that it’d be one less sound to get you arrested for public indecency.
in a country that you’re not a citizen of, at that.
you’re not sure how you got back to your suite and how the hell did you switch into your night dress but you have an inkling that it has something to do with the man whose arm traps you against a hard, muscled body when you started shifting to wake.
his breath fans the back of your neck as he slurs his words but you can make out a ‘five more minutes’ after a grumble and a faint ‘chaeyoung’ at the end.
“no,” you’re not sure what or who you’re saying the words of rejection to, but you slam a fist into arm that’s holding you, “let me go! jeongguk! let me go!”
he finally does at the bloodcurdling scream that could wake up the whole city. but somehow security hasn’t come bursting through the door and the streets in front of your room hasn’t halted its hustling and bustling.
“wh-what happened?” jeongguk’s wide eyes scan the room for the one, solid minute before they rest on you but instead of settling with the deduction that your scream was caused by his own entrapment - possibly the unfamiliar name he blurted out - he crawls over to you, “are you okay?” hand on your cheek as he checks for something.
they return to your eyes when you slap it away though.
you’re not even sure why you’re seeing red but you attribute it to the fact that- “how did i get in this?”
he takes one look and blinks, “i changed you because you fell asleep in the cab and i carried-”
“why?” arms crossed over your chest, you speak over him.
“i... i thought you might be uncomfortable sleeping in that dress,” you can almost hear the screws in his brain turning in search for answers.
“stop, okay? don’t act like you’re some award-winning husband - you’re not, you were broke and was about to lose your only source of income when i came to you and asked if you wanted to not have to work a day in your life,” he must’ve not known that his eyebrows twitch at the words, “it’s always been about the money - i get it, so you can stop now. we don’t have to play house when no one’s around because this isn’t an actual marriage and we don’t even love each other.”
you expected the stars in his eyes to dim out, expected him to avert his gaze somewhere to the most random thing like the ugly vase next to the door or the phone on the nightstand or the window where the sound of kids laughing and vendors across the street obnoxiously greeting his neighboring competition.
but instead, he looks straight at you, “what is it then?” he asks, “what are we if those good night kisses, cuddling into each other in the middle of the night when we woke up briefly before falling back to sleep, holding hands while walking and making love every night-”
“i don’t know where you got that because i never kissed you, i never asked you to wait for me to go to sleep together and i never touched you first - they were all you,” your head dips to the side just the slightest bit, “and we had sex every night. that’s it - it’s just sex.”
the last thing you see before you climb off the bed and lock yourself in the bathroom, dialing up your secretary’s number to book a plane ticket for yourself, is what you’ve initially expected to see.
stars that don’t shine as bright as the morning they twinkle and greet for the first time of the day. brows that knit together but not because he’s anxious or nervous about telling you something.
when you stepped out, he’s gone and you don’t leave any notes. not even a text after you packed up your belongings, hailed a cab and went straight to the airport in your darkest shades and brightest dress.
and so it goes, not a single rumor about your early arrival in seoul and your lack of spouse with you. mainly because jeongguk and you have put up quite a show for those watching eyes. a love story worth spectating and an ending keenly awaited. but you’ve made it clear, during your about-to-hit one month honeymoon that you’re truly, deeply, madly in love with your chosen husband, so much so, that you’re willing to leave the chairman seat unguarded. 
it’s a gamble but it worked like magic. the board members welcome you back into the company without any inquiry even though you’re one week too early. mr. yoo even seems relieved to see you when you’re on your way to your office on your first day back.
“it’s nice to see you again, miss ____ -” he stops himself, “i mean, mrs. jeon.”
you shake your head, laughing, “miss ___ is fine for me, everyone’s known me as that for so long.”
when you reach the end of the hallway where you have to part to go to your office, and him to his, you tap him on the arm once with a hand that lacks a wedding ring but he doesn’t seem to care as he dips into a bow and bids you a good day.
and so it goes, you start burying yourself in your pending works while also juggling surprise visits from two of your aunts, to which each does not fail to not-so-discreetly give your left hand a once over. but you’re faster, having kept your ring in the drawer and pulling it out and slipping it on under the desk before standing up to greet the elder women both times without fail.
on the day jeongguk and you were supposed to return, you’ve debated on booking a hotel just because you don’t want to face him - soyeon briefed him about your sudden departure back to korea and that there was no reason for him to come back with you. and so he stayed. travelled to london and then to glasgow with a black card and unlimited possibilities - just liked you promised him on the day you signed the contract.
things might have gotten off track but coming back to the familiar scent of ocean from your candlewicks and the bonzai that belonged to your deceased grandfather in the corner of the room, you’ve found your purpose again - the reason you would go so far as to sacrifice your heart for this position.
you’re never going to lose sight of it ever again.
but when the door beeps once after you punched in the code, the smell of something delicious waft in the air after you stepped into your apartment and jeongguk greeting you with a pink apron with printed with hearts all over it, you feel yourself freezing in your spot.
“oh, you’re back?” his back is on you as he redirects his attention to the sizzling goodness in the hot pan, “i’m making fried noodles, it’ll be done it 10 minutes - why don’t you go and change first?”
it takes a moment of you staring at the black tresses of his head and the broad shoulders with a pink string hanging over the back of his neck before you actually take a step towards the stairs. once you’ve showered and dressed in your pajamas - you prefer those than the lingerie jeongguk has only ever seen you in - it takes another moment for you to stare at the golden strings layered with button mushrooms, beef slices and prawns and a fried egg over them.
“okay,” you shake your head, as if to shake away the trance that seems to come over you - jeongguk’s already looking at you with a curve on his lips, “what is this?”
“friend noodles,” he says simply.
“no,” another round of head-shaking passes, “i mean, what are you doing? i literally insulted you and called you a bum and a gold digger.”
he takes a minute to mull over the matter, bottom lip jutting out as if to say, “yeah, i kinda am.”
“you must also not realize that i only talk to you when we’re in public or when we’re having sex,” you point out, fork gripped tightly in your hand to which he gives a glance at before reaching to pull it out of your grasp and setting it on the napkin next to your plate.
“love making,” he reiterates but before you can even get a word out, he holds up a hand and tilts his head in a ‘wait’ kind of manner, “and a relationship is 50-50, you work and i cook and clean.”
your eyes narrow at him for the longest moment before you pick up the fork again, this time dipping it into the strands of gold and twirling it before directing it to yout mouth. an appreciative moan leaves you as the spice and sweetness spread over you like a whole new experience.
“good right?” jeongguk mimics your action, digging in and smiling proudly with the first bite.
it’s only when you’re done and loaded the dirty dishes into the washer, as you watch him take off the apron with his back on you whilst you lean against the edge of the counter, do you finally ask, “who’s chaeyoung?”
the way he freezes up with hands middair, in the middle of hanging the strap over the hook - isn’t the least bit surprising.
“wh-who?” the hesitant way he looks at you and then to his feet and then to the sink with a hand rubbing the back of his neck - is familiar. welcomed even but you don’t show.
“you tell me,” you shrug, “must’ve been someone important - someone who you’re used to having wake you up.” you let the silence hang in the air for several heartbeats, watching as his adam’s apple bob whilst his wide-eyed gaze shifts from the sink to the block of knives to the stool before they rest on you.
“maybe a girlfriend you left behind in exchange for money - the money i offered you,” and with that, you watch as his gaze shakes and his pink move but no words come out.
it’s only a long moment later, that he finally manages to find them, “i... i haven’t seen chaeyoung ever since we got married.”
“well, congratulations!” you bring your hands together in a crisp applause, lips curving into one of your schooled smiles, “soyeon contacted her and guess what she said? she said you told her you were going to the city to find a job and didn’t want her to wait on you which was why you broke up but poor little chaeyoung is still waiting for you on the country side - you can go see her and your parents.”
and with that, you turn your back on him for the first time since you left him to an empty suite and a cold bed. 
“why are you so...” but just as thought you could walk out of this like a winner, jeon jeongguk somehow manages to pull you several steps back with just words and eyes that bears more emotions than you can handle, “mean?”
“you’re always smiling and laughing with your secretary like you’re best friends, you always look sad when you talk about your grandfather and you always kiss your parents on the cheek every time you meet them... why-” he stops short when he meets your gaze - you’re not sure what he sees that makes him look like he’s been punched in the face with a wild ball. 
“i’ve always been mean,” you feel your eyebrows rising before you blink once, “you just had your head in the clouds, dreaming about how you can make a girl with a rotten attitude change and maybe fall in love with you along the way - well guess what? i’m not her,” and just like that night in athens, something in the way he stands, stiff like a rock and eyes darkened with a sort of desire, your eyes travel down to his pants where a painfully obvious erection protrudes against the fabric of his pants, “...and you like it.”
“no, i - this - it’s...” he fumbles on his words as he clasps his hands over his crotch, but the way his eyes seem to find solace at the sight of your cleavage screams desperation and agony.
“___... you don’t have- fuck,” the first moan falls out of his mouth when yours wrap around him. 
“only because i can’t have a proper conversation when all you’re concerned about is how to take my blouse off from all the way across the room,” you say after a delicious ‘pop!’ when your cheeks hollow out just before you pull away.
it takes only a few more pumps before he’s begging you to “wait- please - i want you.”
it’s the ‘please’ that gets you.
“fine but don’t come inside,” you relent, hands fiddling with the zipper of your skirt before jeongguk’s polite ‘let me’ as he bends you over the counter, chilly air kissing your skin as a tear echo against the wall and you wonder if you’re free in the weekend to go shopping for-
“oh my god,” the moan slips out of your mouth in a pleasured surprise - you didn’t expect him to get your pantyhose, panties and skirt out of the way that fast.
thought with the barely noticeable discomfort of your panties digging into your hips, you figure he opted for keeping them pushed to the side instead of getting rid of them completely.
they do come off anyway, left in the trail of clothes strewn along the way to the stairs where jeongguk decides to have you bend over because “it’s a perfect place for a doggy,” and you concur as you moan and whine while he fucks you like he owns you. hand keeping your hair in a lock whilst he holds your upper body up whenever you’re about to lose yourself and bury your face in the steps. 
but you do manage to get to the bedroom, just not the bed. you made a mess on the carpet - it’s going to stain an ugly shade of sex and lust but soyeon will probably not even bat an eye once you ask her to schedule an appointment with an interior designer. might as well give your room a make over.
so it goes, jeongguk likes to call your eye rolls and offers to lend him a driver to drive him to his hometown to meet the love of his life - cute. alternatively, jealousy. which you simply roll your eyes at, again.
at times, he comes over to your office - mainly to take you out for lunch but ends up fucking you over your mahogany table. and later in the car on the side of the road where an officer came knocking on the fully tinted window - you had at least 60 seconds to button up your shirts and pull down your skirt while jeongguk zips up his pants with a whine before you roll your window down.
how the rest goes, you rather not say.
but you’ve sworn against car sex - at least in daylight and in an open space.
so when you end up walking past a mirror in your room, just as you’ve donned an off white blouse and a grey pencil skirt, you find yourself freezing in shock. hands coming to cup your stomach, you squint at the woman who’s squiting back at your belly.
“honey, breakfast is ready,” jeongguk pokes his head into the room, the infamous pink apron tied around his front and a pair of light orang oven mitts on his hands.
“do you think I gained weight?” you quiz, knowing full well that he’ll spout a heartwarming but blatant lie about-
“no, i think you’re a healthy weight,” a man that looks like him comes to hug the woman in the mirror, kissing her head before glancing at his reflection once and turning back to it, squinting his eyes at the part where your hands are.
“uh,” he hesitantly starts, “how much chipotle did you have last night?”
“not enough that’s for sure,” you turn to him with an incredulous look, “i went to bed hungry,” a light smack lands on his chest - to which he doesn’t even bat an eye, “cause you keep stealing my food!”
“maybe we should book an appointment,” he suggests, voice smooth but the glint in his eyes and the suppressed smile on his face gives away his exitement.
“no, i can’t be pregnant,” you shake your head, walking over to the vanity to pick up your purse and keys, “it’s not the right time.”
“but what if you are?” you hear the hurt in jeongguk’s voice but your interest overrides your emotiones.
“i just can’t be,” and with that, you place a kiss on his lips, “i’m sorry, baby.”
and with that, you left for the kitchen when jeongguk still tried to reason with you. he tried again for the next few days until you set your food down and told him a baby is never going to be in the picture.
but two months down, you barely fit your clothes and jeongguk has been kissing you good morning before bending down and pressing his ear to your belly, “and good morning to you, my little blueberry.”
and he’s been kissing you good night before pecking your stomach and wishing the life form growing inside you a ‘come out fast so mommy and daddy can meet you, okay?’
“good news and bad news,” soyeon said exactly one month ago after you’d fainted in a middle of a meeting and woke up in a hospital room, “you can’t be pregnant but you are and you’re gonna need an heir soon anyway so...”
“it’s bigger than a blueberry now,” you point out  - jeongguk’s been calling your child a blueberry ever since he rushed to the hospital after getting a call that his wife fainted and once he was there, got flashed with a sonogram the size of- “the doctor said it’s as big as a blueberry, not chipotle,” you’d been indifferent, mainly because a child wasn’t in your plan and you’d been taking birth control since way before you got married.
but jeongguk had been overjoyed. taking care of you everywhere you go, he didn’t even let you drive and instead searched up for drivers with a long list of the lowest rates of accidents in their records. he gets into the shower with you because he “can’t wait to have a family shower together” and packages of baby clothes have been pouring in with matching shirts and ‘mom’, ‘dad’ and ‘baby’ printed on each one and he shows them to you after you got back from work.
his love for your child had made you fall in love with being a mother. with having a family of your own - the two notions you never thought you could wrap your head around as you made your vows to each other two years ago. 
and it’s somewhere down the line, as you watch jeongguk rock your baby in his arm as she sleeps soundly amidst the beeping of the heart monitor, jeongguk’s voice like a lullaby as he murmurs ‘you’re so beautiful, you have mommy nose, and my lips, thank you for being born,’ and when he twirls around, probably feeling the heat of someone’s stare from all the way on the bed, he looks at you with that lost, wide-eyed wonder before his lips curl into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents.
-it’s then, do you realize that jeongguk has become the person you smile and laugh with, the person you greet with a kiss and the person your heart beats for.
he’s your husband, lover, soulmate.
x
note. i have another preview with the same title and characters but from a historical era which i haven’t managed to finish but if you see a marquis!jk and x heir!reader then yk hehe. also if you like arranged marriage au’s do check my masterlist! i have a lot of them apparently (i just realized while writing this fic lol)
i’ve been super stressed and feel like i haven’t actually been doing anything i really like in the weekend so i sat down and decided to finish this draft idea once and for all! 
first off, oc is a douche bag who cares about herself a lot but it’s written in her pov which i hope portrays a justification (which isn’t necessarily okay) to the things she do. but in other people’s story, she’s that woman who stole a person’s man, or she’s that hard ass boss that nobody really likes but pays good, or that graunddaughter that seems to think about her grandfather’s money only. but no one is easily good or bad, it’s more than that just like oc. and i hope to send at least that message through this story. not one can be just ‘good’ or ‘bad’.
in my opinion, there’s no development in her character bc of the word count and the fact that i didn’t plan for it to be long enough to include a development. i just wanted to write about an asshole who has feelings and can be nice to certain people. she’s probably still an asshole but her feelings for jeongguk changed and so is her treatment towards him (as per foreshadowed) and he became one of the people she loves - and i say probably because we’ll probably never know for sure and it’s also not up to my interpretation alone. you, the readers, may think she has or may think she hasn’t - either way, this is just a story about someone who you might know, maybe someone who you’d dupe as selfish. either way, i hope yall enjoyed it!
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garbagevanfleet · 4 years
Text
Brightest Blue (series)
PART TEN
Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ ONLY! sexual content (finally), pot use, alcohol use Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.
Notes: Okay, guys. If you missed it, this chapter is NSFW. This was the best to write, seriously. Love you all, don't be afraid to tell me what you think of it! 
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taglist: @valleyd0ll​​ @satingrass-maidensfair​​ @guitarfingers​​ @thebohemianpenguin​​ @peaceisouranthem​​ @oblvions​​ @hansonobsessed​​ @myownparadise96​​ @lara-gvf​​ @anditsmywholeheart​​ @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies​​ @bigblack-catattack​​​ 
MASTERPOST 
Two weeks before the Saturday of the play, the forecast had called for a blizzard. “Polar vortex” they had called it on the tv at school, flashing graphics of a polar bear wearing a scarf. 
After classes on Friday, you had asked Kate if she wanted to go for coffee. You had been working like a dog on the play - sewing and painting to the point where your fingers perpetually hurt and the only thing you could see when you closed your eyes was the shade of green that every foliage prop was painted.
You ordered a caramel macchiato and genuinely tried to enjoy it, propping your legs up on the chair next to her. 
“So,” she started, eyeing you like she had a bone to pick. She still looked so pretty when she was coming for your life. “We’ve been so busy with Josh, we haven’t had any alone time to talk about Trevor.”
You sucked in a deep breath and relaxed your stiff neck muscles, achy from behind hunched over while sewing. “Yeah. I kind of forgot about it, to be honest.”
“I have not, however. So dish,” she requested, reaching into her purse and pulling out a tube of lipstick. She applied it carefully in her phone camera as you spoke. 
“Josh did it,” you admitted, making her eyes flick over to you momentarily. “I mean, I still slapped him, but Josh was the one that gave him a black eye.”
“And how do you feel about that?” she asked carefully.
You shrugged, wrapping your fingers tightly around your cup, half to leech the heat, and half because you were anxious. “I don’t know. I was kind of upset, but only because he could have gotten kicked out of school for that.”
She just nodded for you to continue as she cleaned up the lines around her lips with a paper napkin. 
“I mean, and for what? He could have been arrested. Just for revenge. I feel like the best revenge would be just be keeping your head high.” You rolled your eyes at the beginning of your statement, just for emphasis. 
She stared at you blankly as she picked up her mug. “Aren’t you flattered? I wish a guy would punch one of my hookups.” 
“I mean, it’s cute, but I feel like he did it more for himself - for his own pride, you know?”
Her expression changed then to something a little heavier, her features sharpening in accusation. “Are you for real? Like, for real, for real?”
You frowned at her, feeling like you were being scolded. “What are you talking about?”
She let out a long breath, looking dumbstruck. “I haven’t really pressed it because I guess I just thought it was something that everyone knew but wasn’t talking about but-” She paused, putting her hand over yours on the table just to really drive the point home. 
“That boy has it bad for you.”
You knew your expression was ridiculous by the way she looked at you with pity. “What the hell are you talking about? Josh? Are we talking about Josh?”
She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and nodded. 
“Kiszka?” you tried again, still refusing to let her statement sink in. 
“Yes,” she said through a laugh. “Yes, your roommate Josh. Curly hair, hippy bullshit - that guy. I swear to God I thought you knew. I mean, there were times when I was like ‘does she actually know?’ but then I thought ‘there’s no way she lives with him and doesn’t know that’. You’re telling me I was wrong?”
You were struck silent for a few long moments. “Are you sure?”
Thankfully, she was looking at you like you were a puppy with its head stuck in a peanut butter jar. “Look at me. He punched a guy in the face for you.”
You closed your eyes and tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t know.”
“Okay. There’s supposed to be a huge snowstorm this weekend. Now that you’ve heard me say it, return to me on Monday - after spending all weekend in the same place as him - and tell me you don’t see it then,” she said simply. 
“Okay, I will,” you challenged. 
“Okay, you do that,” she quipped with a smirk, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest confidently. 
+++
In preparation, you had gone grocery shopping together, picking out everything you’d need to be stuck in the apartment together. He had even made you take him to a thrift store, just so he could see if there was anything fun. In the end, he had come out with a card game in a box, still wrapped. 
Saturday morning the snow started falling, this time in huge, fluffy flakes, and it wasn’t supposed to stop until Monday evening. 
While Josh was in the shower, you decided to get everything ready for the evening’s festivities that you had planned together. You had gone to find a good cheese board at the market until you found out they were too pricey for your (nearly nonexistent) budget, so you ended up laying out different crackers and cheeses onto a circular pizza pan. 
By the time he got out of the shower, you had grapes, pickles, olives, and chocolates laid out on the coffee table, and he caught you just as you were pouring each of you a glass of wine. 
The charcuterie was his idea - actually, the first thing he suggested when you said you wanted to have a fun night in on Saturday. The three different kinds of alcohol had been your idea.
“Okay, it’s all yours,” he informed as he trotted out from his bedroom, dressed in a fresh set of clothes. 
The shower was still warmed up, the mirror still steamy. You got a towel out and stepped in under the spray. 
You took the time to enjoy washing and conditioning your hair - your mom had been sweet enough to send you some of the expensive kind you love. Once you had hinted over the phone that you were homesick and the smell of it reminded you of home, she was already googling it. 
Once you felt sufficiently clean, you stepped out and dried off. The clothes you had taken into the bathroom weren’t anything special - you had chosen comfort over aesthetic - but they were warm, which is what you really needed as the snow fell outside. 
When you joined him back in the living room, Josh was waiting patiently on the couch.
“Ready?” he asked, handing you your glass of wine. 
“You didn’t have to wait for me.” You gestured down at the untouched food. 
He smiled at you. “I know.” 
You sipped at your drink as he gestured to the tv. 
“Movie for background noise?”
You hummed in thought. “Maybe music?” 
He nodded in agreement. “What are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever you pick will be perfect.”
By the time he had made a selection, you had nearly finished your glass of wine. “So, the costumes are coming along well. I got the cutest lace for the trimmings of Alice’s dress. I’m not sure you’ll even be able to see it from the audience, but she’ll look adorable in pre and post-performance pictures.”
He shot you a beaming smile. “That’s some master craft. Your attention to detail is unrivaled.”
You knew that he was just playing, but it still made your stomach flip.
“Should we play our card game?” he suggested, padding over to the kitchen and snatching the bottle of wine off the counter.
You watched his movements as he poured your glass full again. “Thank you. Yeah, we can. Or did you want to be drunker first?”
He hummed. “One shot each?” 
“Of vodka?” you inquired as you picked yourself off of the couch. “Where are the shot glasses?” 
“I don’t think I own any,” he admitted as he watched you rifle through the cupboards. 
You shot him a shocked look. “You’re a college kid; why would you not own a shot glass?”
“Well, we haven’t needed it thus far. I don’t throw a lot of parties if you haven’t noticed.” He gestured around the empty room. “We’ll each just take a pull from the bottle?”
“Okay, you first,” you agreed, thrusting the bottle at his chest. He took it from your grasp with a smirk and then pressed his lips to the rim. He drank until the count of three before swallowing hard and passing it along. 
You followed suit, except with more difficulty. He had made it look so easy, you had almost forgotten how vodka tasted. You swiped your thumb across your lips, wiping them dry in the process. 
You took your seats back on the couch next to each other as the music played through the room. 
“Charcuterie?” you offered, gesturing to the coffee table full of food. 
“Yes, of course.”
As you watched him make a cracker sandwich, you spoke. “So, should we crack this game open?”
After he nodded excitedly, you ripped into the plastic wrap. 
“Okay, it looks like it’s essentially just a questions game. We just draw one at a time and the other person answers them,” you explained after skimming the inside of the box. “And you have to finish your drink if you can’t answer it.”
He laughed. “Okay, ladies first. I’m ready.”
You pushed the stack of cards over at him. “No way, you ask me first,” you stated with a cheeky smile.
He raised his eyebrows at you but relented. As he plucked a card from the deck, he took a sip of wine.
“What is your favorite color?” he asked, leaning in and squinting like the information you were about to provide was essential to his existence. 
You snorted. “Really?” He nodded, prompting you to continue. You hummed as you thought about it. “It’s blue.”
“What kind of blue? Like navy or sky?”
You shook your head. “No, more like that blue that’s so blue it hurts your eyes. The one that was a new pigment discovered not that long ago - so bright it hurts.”
He gave you a sincere smile.  “That’s a good pick.”
“What’s yours?” 
“That’s not how this game works,” he said through a breathy laugh. 
You frowned at him. “Yeah, well. Then I’m asking you as a friend. Josh, what is your favorite color?”
He pursed his lips as he considered his answer. “It’s hard for me to pick, but maybe either red or orange.”
You nodded in agreement as you reached for the deck. “I could see that. Okay, your turn.”
You stared at the card in your hand that read, WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU SLEPT WITH?
“Are you alright?”
You snapped your eyes up to him, quickly nodding as you realized that he had been waiting patiently for you to read it. 
“Okay,” he agreed cautiously. “That’s good. What’s the question?”
You couldn’t suppress an awkward smile as a heat rose to your face. 
“It says, ‘who is the last person you slept with?’,” you informed in a humored tone. You even held it up for him to see.
He stared at the card like it just accused him of a heinous act. “You really got to answer the color question and I have to answer this?”
His intensity made you snort a laugh, though you were trying to hold yourself together so you didn’t spill your wine. “Okay, okay. I’ll answer it too. Maybe we can play the game where we both just answer it.”
“Do you just want to hear me talk about sex?” he prompted with a shit-eating grin. 
You gave him a disbelieving look. “Are you- You’re the one that picked this game out!”
Your overreaction was clearly exactly what he had been looking for. You were anticipating his ribbing to continue, but it didn’t. 
“The last person I had sex with,” he started, pressing his lips against the rim of his glass as he took a swig. “Was from my music theory class.”
“When?” you quickly asked, shocking even yourself.
 “Is that part of the question?” he teased smugly, picking a kalamata olive off of the tray and piercing it with his finger before popping it in his mouth. 
You licked your lips nervously. “No, it isn’t,” you admitted. “You don’t have to answer that, I was just curious.”
“You wanna get high?” 
He was staring directly into your eyes when you looked up at him again. 
“I feel like it’ll make it easier to answer these.”
You nodded at him, biting your bottom lip. “Yes. Yes, I do want to.” 
“My room?” he asked, picking up both of your glasses as he stood. 
“Your room,” you confirmed, following suit. 
Through the slats in his blinds, you could see that the ground was completely covered in a white blanket of snow. You spent some time watching it fall from his bed as he packed a bowl. 
“Here,” he said gently to get your attention. “You take the first hit. I’m going to light it and you’re going to suck in and hold it in.”
You nodded in understanding. 
“Not too much though,” he warned. 
The glass was cool in your hands as you took it from him. When he held the flame to it, you did as you were told before exhaling with care. He was looking at you with a proud expression when you met his eyes. 
You handed it back over to him, waiting until he was in the process of taking a hit before you spoke. 
“Tell me when you slept with her,” you demanded calmly, biting back a smirk at the way his breathing faltered. 
It had turned into a game of chicken as you held each other’s gazes silently. 
“You haven’t even answered the required question yet and you want me to do the extra credit?” he quipped. 
“The last person I fucked was a guy from tinder back home, and it happened a couple of months before I left,” you informed him confidently. “I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and he was a prick, so when we broke up, I went on a tinder bender just to feel something.”
A small smile spread across his pink lips as he listened. 
“Now you.”
“She was my girlfriend last year. We broke up in April and I had a hard time saying no to late-night texts until the end of June.” His tone was sincere as far as you could tell, as were his eyes. 
You were starting to feel the hit you’d taken by then, and you took a pause from the conversation to lean over the side of his bed and grab the bag of suckers you knew was waiting there for this very occasion. 
The high washed over you in a gentle, pleasant manner, leaving you feeling a little dreamy. 
“Sucker?” you asked, holding the bag open for him. He breathed a laugh - probably at you offering him his own candy - and then plucked one from the bag. 
After he had it unwrapped, he held the bowl out to you again. “Want another? Or am I going to have to smoke the rest of this myself?”
“Yes, I’m sure that would be very rough on you, poor baby,” you teased. 
He huffed a laugh, sitting up a bit straighter in his position. “You want another one or not?”
You stared at him wordlessly for longer than was socially acceptable, but when you finally spoke, it was with conviction. “I’ll have another baby hit.” You pulled the cards from the pocket of your pajama pants. “But then we’re playing another card, right?.”
He glanced down at the bowl and then back up to you. “When you say ‘baby hit’-”
“I mean I want you to blow it into my mouth with your mouth,” you explained cheekily, making him huff a laugh. 
“You liked that, huh?” he asked, risking a dark glance up at you through his long lashes as his fingers played along the glass piece. 
You knew exactly what you wanted to say - could hear it in your head, but your body felt tight with nerves at the thought of actually saying it. “Not as much as you did, I’m guessing.”
Oh, damn, you said it. 
A smirk played across his mouth, his eyes half hooded. If you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have thought he was completely unaffected by your teasing, but you had been listening to his breathing, so you were perfectly aware when it changed slightly. It was just the smallest difference in sound like he was pulling in air through tighter lungs. 
“Be careful with what you’re accusing people of.” A warning, definitely, but almost more of a challenge. In the months that you’d spent with him, you’d never seen him like that, but you suppose you wouldn’t have unless- Unless you were about to make him do something truly reckless. 
You bit your bottom lip out of an anxious, excited energy. “Oh, my mistake then.”
The ball was in his court, and you could tell that he was expecting him to continue pressing him. A look of slight disappointment flashed behind his eyes, but you weren’t done yet. 
You nodded toward the bowl, prompting him to glance down at it like he had forgotten what he was doing in the game he was playing with you. He kept eye contact with you as he brought it to his mouth and lit it. You watched the white smoke circle the inside of the globe before he sucked it into his lungs. 
You tilted your chin up in invitation and tried to relax your muscles as he leaned in, his throat looking tight. 
You felt his nose brush yours first before you realized you had closed your eyes in anticipation. The smoky smell hit you first when you realized you were supposed to be taking it from him. You opened your eyes and tried to breathe it all in, but most of it was lost to the room. 
He had a tiny smirk playing on his features until you reached out and wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pressing his forehead against yours in an abrupt motion. You could tell he had his teeth clenched by how tight his jaw looked. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from playing your fingers along the sharp line of it. 
“Do you want me?” you whispered, voice barely there at all. 
Through a labored breath, he responded with a smoky sounding, “What would give you that impression?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, but unsurprisingly, it came out sounding raw. Your fingers brushed across the short hair on the nape of his neck, the pleasant feeling causing his eyelids to flutter. 
You leaned forward until you pressed your cheekbone against his, lips right by his ear, and pointedly asked, “Do. You. Want. Me?”
“Fucking of course, I do,” he spat through clenched teeth, sounding distressed as his hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs pressed into your hipbones on either side. 
“Should we?” you asked, pulling back so you could see his face. 
“Probably not.” His words were humored, a melodic laugh accompanying them, but still somehow managed to not sound any less strained. 
You considered what he was saying for a moment, relishing in the idea that this was the last moment before the point of no return. “Just one hookup,” you reasoned. 
He smirked at you, looking all too smug and disbelieving. “Okay,” he agreed. 
Patiently, you waited for him to make the first move, your heartbeat bouncing around like a basketball in your chest. When you felt his hands move from your hips, your body tensed, trying to predict where they’d end up next. 
As he cupped your jaw with both hands, you melted a little, muscles noticeably relaxing. 
The kiss was tentative at first - just a brushing of his lips on yours like he was testing the waters. He held your face like he was afraid that you were going to vanish into thin air - like your presence was the key to his existence. 
You could hear his shallow breaths as he opened his mouth, pressing it against yours. His tongue tasted like the orange sucker he’d abandoned on its wrapper on top of the dresser next to his bed. You lapped at it, body rising as you shifted to crawl into his lap. With the way he was sitting, cross-legged on his bed straddling him was a bit of a strain on your inner thighs, but the feeling was oddly pleasing - like a warm-up for the workout you were about to endure. 
He let go of your face to place his hands back on your hips, pulling your body as close to his as it physically could be. Before he could situate you too firmly, you started to unbutton your pajama shirt, and bless his heart, he couldn’t help but watch your fingers work. 
“Is this really happening, or this just a super high fever dream?” he asked, shaking his head as he frowned like he wasn’t sure he could trust his eyes. 
You wanted to laugh at him, but you could hardly blame his disbelief. If someone had told you even earlier that week that you’d be in this position, you would have rolled your eyes at them. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until it was about to happen.
The last button undone, you let the garment fall, the pink and white striped fabric slipping off the bed and to the hardwood. 
The cool air was shocking on your bare skin at first, causing it to tighten - well, that and you could practically feel his eyes raking over your chest. 
“It’s happening,” you assured, leaning in until you were speaking against his parted lips. 
The feeling of him brushing the pads of his fingers over your nipple made your breathing shudder. When you tipped your head back, he ducked in and pressed his mouth to your throat, dragging a stripe across your skin with the flat of his tongue. Every part of your whole body felt hot, but none more than between your legs. You tried to grind yourself down on him, but couldn’t seem to get a good angle - luckily, he seemed to notice, and halted your movements with his hands on your hips, stretching his legs out straight.
He pulled back just far enough to see your face when he ground you down onto him, the outline of his cock slipping against your core. Even with all the layers between you, the feeling still made you crumble against him, a whine escaping your lips of its own volition. It was clear that he felt it too as he bit his lip, his eyes fluttering. 
You seized the opportunity to get your fingers under his shirt, lifting it over his head as he held his arms up for you. Before he could prepare for it, you pressed closer, pressing a kiss to his temple and then nipping at his earlobe. The cool metal of his earring was pleasing against your tongue, and you reveled in the moment as he sucked in a sharp, shocked breath. 
His hands snaked around your sides, palms wide as he cupped your ass and used the leverage to pull you against him again. Burying his nose in the crook of your neck, he let a shaky breath escape him.
You could feel his thumbs hook under the elastic band of your pajama bottoms as he started to slip them down the cleft of your ass. Once it was bare, he ran his fingers over it, movement stalling as he looked at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“Are you not wearing panties?”
You scoffed. “Not to bed, obviously. Are you implying that you wear something under those loose pants?”
The corners of his lips tilted up in a wicked smirk. “I encourage you to find out.”
You giggled at his confidence, sweetly nudging your forehead against his, so he didn’t expect the swift movement of your hand as you tugged the tie of his sweats down. The answer to your previous question was “no” - he hissed as you grabbed his erection, swiping your thumb across the head, glossy from the dim light through the blinds. It was just a tease though, because a split second later, you let go of it in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your mouth against his again. 
As you pressed him back, he tried to hold you, but once he realized you weren’t just leaning on him for support, he relented. You laid him back on his bed, pulling back as you slipped your bottoms off the rest of the way. 
“Jesus,” he breathed as his eyes took in the whole of your naked body above him. “Hang on.” 
He reached to the bedside table and grabbed the bowl and lighter. After he sucked in another hit and set the piece back down, he tugged you in roughly, depositing the smoke directly into your mouth. You tried to hold it in like he had taught you, but you were much more interested in getting your tongue into his mouth. 
Still, you were plenty high, so much so that looking down on his bare form had tears threatening your eyes. He looked so soft and sweet despite the position he was in, his eyes half-lidded and one hand behind his head, one on your bare hip. 
You shifted until you could grind your core against the length of him, the wetness letting it slip through easily. 
“Fuck.” You had thought it was an exclamation of pleasure until you opened your eyes and saw a scowl painted across his face. “I definitely don’t have a condom.”
You hummed through a smile. “I don’t blame you, I definitely didn’t expect this.”
He frowned up at you. “We can just try something else if you want,” he offered.
“Well, I’m on birth control, and given the length of time between our last sexual encounters, I’m guessing we’re both clean - I know I am.”
He stared at you for a long moment before really realizing what you were implying, but once he did, he licked his lips in consideration. 
“Come here.” You weren’t sure what he was requesting until he grabbed onto your thighs and guided you up until you were straddling his face. 
The thought of it made you blush, and surely your cheeks were hot to the touch. 
He started with broad strokes of his tongue, just dragging it through. You briefly wished he had a headboard for you to brace yourself on, but your thoughts quickly became completely incoherent. You decided you were going to lean back instead, placing your palms flat on his bent knees. When you were completely comfortable and situated, he started pointedly flicking his tongue against your clit directly, first very soft and teasing, but building to something rougher and more deliberate. 
You thought you were actually going to shake apart when he sucked your clit right into his mouth, rolling the bead of it around on the flat surface. When you could feel yourself getting close to the edge, you threaded your fingers through his curls, keeping him close. 
The moment you lost it, everything in the room melted away from you - just a black expanse with flicks of color littered throughout it. 
You took a moment to catch your breath, trying to bring yourself, at least partly, back to reality. When you pulled away from him, you were met with the sight of him - the entire bottom half of his face slick with your come. 
He only let you watch in fascination as it dripped from his chin for a second before he was pushing you back, your head laid at the foot of the bed. He slipped his sweats off the rest of the way before crawling over you. 
There was no way you could have blamed him as he pushed in, seemingly not having any time for a slow entrance - you did make him sit there, untouched, for god knows how long. You certainly couldn’t name even a rough estimate for the amount of time passed. 
The spark of pleasure that shot through you made you throw your head back, your spine arching as you let out a whine. 
“I’m sorry, are you okay?” he breathed, through tight teeth.
“Yes,” you hissed as you ground yourself down onto him. “Keep going.”
Your eyes were closed, but you were sure he was wearing an awed expression. You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in until your foreheads were pressed together. When he started to move his hips, you let out a long, pleased hum, pressing your nails into the skin on his shoulders. 
Your whole lower half was still incredibly sensitive, so every time he brushed you, it made you writhe a bit beneath him. “Mm, fuck,” you growled as he intentionally reached down and pressed his thumb into your clit, the feeling resting somewhere between “just perfect” and “way too much”.  
He was biting his lip as he watched your reaction intently. You felt his hand snake down your outer thigh, gripping it from the bottom. He lifted it up, near-forcing you to wrap it around his hip.
The new angle was a different kind of feeling - something hot deeper in your gut like someone placed a smoldering ember in your belly.  You weren’t paying attention to anything but your own impending orgasm, so you didn’t expect it when he sucked your nipple into his mouth. He raked his teeth over the bud, causing your hips to jerk against him. 
When you opened your eyes and met his, you took a moment to absorb his expression - like he was seeing another dimension through your face. 
You could tell he was close when his lips fell open, but that was perfect because he was taking you with him. You hitched your legs around his hips and squeezed, letting your head tip back. 
When you came a second time, it was with his open mouth pressed to your throat, his hot breath hitting your damp skin. You let out a low whine, fingers tangled in his hair, probably a little too tight.
You suspected it was probably your muscles clenching in orgasm around him that set him off, a string of expletives falling from his kiss-swollen lips. His hips shuddered as he fucked you through it. 
The other side of your collective climax was warm and fuzzy, like watching home videos from the ‘60s. When he was able to hold himself all the way up, you ran your fingers through his damp curls affectionately. 
He was clearly trying to get his bearings, his breath flowing in and out of him like a tide. 
“Are you okay?” he whispered, sounding like he might not be able to speak any louder than he currently was if he wanted to.
 You hummed through a smile. “So good, Maybe never better.”
He rubbed his nose against yours, the smallest hint of an upward tilt to his lips. “I’m high as hell, so I’m not sure what’s acceptable for our situation right now, but can I kiss you?”
“We probably shouldn’t,” you admitted, making his expression fall slightly. 
He nodded at you in reluctant agreement. “You’re right.” 
You bit your bottom lip. “Ah, fuck it, we’ll start going back to normal tomorrow.”
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jbuchanan-barnes · 3 years
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as long as we have each other
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Summary: While on a mission, something unexpected happens to Bucky.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 2,359
Warnings: Canon typical violence, mention of illegal weapons dealing, blood. This is the first time I'm posting something that I've written, and I'm very nervous. I feel like that should be a warning 🙈
A/N: Hi! This is for @wkemeup 's 9k writing challenge - Character A cleans Character B's wounds after a rough mission. [A]'s fingers linger over scarred muscle as they finish wrapping the bandage.
Congrats on 9k Kas!! Also, thank you to @thefanbasewhore for proof reading!!
divider credits to @bwbatta
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After coming back from a two week long solo mission in Warsaw, you were just about ready to take a nice long bath and sleep for a week. As you walked off the quinjet, it was no surprise to see a certain metal armed super soldier waiting for you with his arms crossed.
As you close the space between you, his eyes rake over you from top to bottom to check for injuries. “I was starting to think your mission would never end,” Bucky says, smirking down at you. “And by the looks of it, I think you thought the same thing.” “Shut up,” you respond with a halfhearted glare. His smirk melts into a gentle smile as he pulls you into his arms. “I missed you,” Bucky replies as he buries his face into your neck. “Two weeks is too long to go without seeing you.” You hum in agreement as your hands travel to his hair. After a few moments of standing tangled together, you break the silence. “As much as I’d love to hug you forever, I’m dying to get out of this suit.” Bucky pulls out of your embrace, kisses you on the head, and gently takes your hand. You let him lead you through the compound towards your room, but before you’re able to make it past the kitchen, you’re interrupted. “Oh! Y/N, Barnes!” Tony exclaims, “Just the people I needed to talk to.” You groan just as Bucky responds. “Can it wait, Stark? Y/N just got back from Poland.” “Unfortunately,” Tony replies, “I need you both to Brazil tomorrow.” “There’s a guy who has been harboring stolen SHIELD tech since the incident at the triskelion, and he finally popped back up on our radar,” he elaborates. “You can’t send someone else?” You inquire, your lips turning down into a frown. “I’m afraid not,” Tony sounds apologetic as he responds. “I need all hands on deck for this mission. I’m even pulling Steve out of retirement.” Tony winks at you. “Luckily for you,” he continues, “This mission requires us to stay at one of the fanciest hotels in Río.” Tony glances at his watch before adding “I need you two in the briefing room by eight am tomorrow so we can go over the details before we depart. Until then, go rest Y/N.” You take a deep breath and nod as Bucky agrees.
As you finally enter your shared room, Bucky jokingly says “We should have snuck in through the back way.” “It’s fine,” you tell him dejectedly. “Tony would have found another way to contact us. It is what it is.” Your long bath would have to wait.
As you rush to take a quick shower, Bucky returns to the kitchen to make you something to eat. When he comes back, you scarf down the leftovers as Bucky takes his turn in the bathroom. By the time you’re finished, Bucky is all ready for bed. While you brush your teeth, he takes the opportunity to climb into bed and check his phone. When you walk out of the bathroom, you can’t help but take a minute to admire your boyfriend. Although he looks very attractive sitting in bed shirtless, your heart flutters at the peaceful look on his face. Bucky has been through so much, but with you, he’s totally at ease.
You’re broken out of your reverie by Bucky’s soft voice. “Hey,” he says with a gentle smile. “C’mere, doll.” You crawl into bed and let Bucky pull you into his arms. As you lay your head on his chest, Bucky idly traces random patterns onto your back. Just as you’re starting to drift off, his voice pulls you back. “How are you feeling about the mission tomorrow?” “Honestly,” you drowsily respond. “If Tony is okay with giving us all the details the day of, it should be pretty easy.” Bucky hums in agreement. “Why?” you continue. “You’re not worried about it, are you?” “Oh, no!” Bucky denies. “I just wanted to make sure you aren’t worried about it since you aren’t getting a break.” “I’ll be fine,” you say, pretending to be annoyed. “If my boyfriend will be quiet so I can sleep.” Bucky laughs and kisses your forehead. “Okay, okay!” he yields to your teasing. “Good night, sweetheart.” As you start to fall asleep, you sleepily respond. “Good night Buckaroo. I love you.” Just before you drift into unconsciousness, you hear Bucky’s quiet voice. “I love you too, doll.”
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The next morning, when you arrive in the briefing room, Tony is too chipper for eight in the morning. While you would rather be in bed, he seems as if he’s already had two cups of coffee (at least). Bucky appears to be neither tired, nor overly energetic, while everyone else falls somewhere in between.
“Antonio Silva is the guy we’re looking for,” Tony begins by showing everyone a picture of the man you need to find. “He is originally from Campinas, Brazil.” Tony takes a moment to pull up a picture of the map.  “Based on our intell, he is planning on making a sale tonight in São Paulo.” “You said he has stolen tech?” you inquire. Steve takes the opportunity to speak up. “He actually worked for SHIELD before it fell. Well, hydra technically.” He turns to Natasha. “Did you see his name anywhere in the files you released?” Nat shakes her head. “No. I don’t think he was important enough to have in the files.” “I guess that explains why he turned on them and stole tech,” Sam laughs. “Either way,” Tony directs everyone’s attention back to the mission briefing. “He’s planning on selling to black market weapons dealers at the ten year anniversary gala of the hotel, and we need to stop the sale, arrest Silva, and capture the weapons dealers.” Tony pulls up a map of the hotel. “Steve will be disguised as a bartender, and Sam and I will be flying above the hotel, should anything go south. Y/N and Barnes, you two will be disguised as a mob boss and his wife looking to purchase some weapons. As soon as you make contact, make the arrest. Natasha, I want you floating around the room taking inventory of the weapons dealers in the room. A team of agents will be joining us to assist with taking people into custody should they not be compliant. Since Silva has the weapons in storage somewhere, as long as we have him and the dealers in custody, taking back the weapons should be easy. We just need the guy who knows where they are. Does anyone have any questions?” A series of no’s are heard as everyone responds. “Then everyone go pack, and be ready for the quinjet to take off in an hour.”
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The flight is relatively quiet, interrupted only by Sam giving out some last minute instructions. However, as soon as the jet lands, everyone is thrown into go mode.
By the time you make it to the hall where the celebration is being held, the party is in full swing. You watch Natasha silently slip into the room in total spy mode. She glances over at you and nods slightly for you and Bucky to make your entrance. You make your way to the bar for the next few minutes as you watch Nat float around the room.
After about ten minutes, she walks up to the bar and asks Steve for a drink, discreetly informing you that all of the weapons dealers are here. Steve signals for all of the agents to fall into place as you and Bucky turn to approach Silva. Before you make it to where Silva is, he takes one look at Bucky and bolts. That’s when all hell breaks loose. Agents start drawing their guns left and right, while the dealers begin pulling out their weapons to fight back. As the gunfire starts, Tony and Sam join the fight, shield flying, while Bucky takes off after Silva. As soon as you know that they’ll be fine without you, you take off after Bucky. Once Bucky and Silva are in your line of sight, you can tell that Bucky is struggling. It’s apparent that Silva has found some way to disable Bucky’s vibranium arm. As Bucky does his best to fight one handed, Silva punches him in the nose before pulling out two knives. Before you can reach them, you watch in horror as Silva thrusts a knife into Bucky’s thigh, while slicing at his throat with the other knife. Bucky barely dodges the second blade, but not before the tip catches his collar bone.
As soon as you get to them, you tackle Silva to give Bucky the chance to reset his arm. You’re able to block a few of Silva’s attempts to stab you, and kick the knives out of his hands before Bucky joins the fight again.
When it’s apparent that you and Bucky have the upper hand again, Silva pauses. “I really didn’t want to do this to you Barnes, but you left me no choice.” Before you have time to wonder what Silva is talking about, he continues.
“Sputnik.”
Before the word is even out of his mouth, Bucky goes rigid and keels over. As he collapses, your whole world collapses with him. Shock, confusion, and panic roll through you as Steve arrives just in time to handle Silva. You rush to Bucky’s side, and as you find his steady pulse, your anxious heart settles just a little. There is chaos all around you, but you don’t have time to care as you focus on Bucky. As soon as Silva and the dealers are in custody, Sam and Steve help carry Bucky back to your hotel room. After they leave, you take the opportunity to pull out your first aid supplies. Just as you’re finishing collectiving everything you need, Bucky begins to regain consciousness.
“What happened?” His confusion is evident, even in his groggy state. “I’m not entirely sure,” you tell him, hesitantly. “Silva said a word and it was like it just flipped your off switch.” Bucky stays silent as you carefully help him sit up. “I need to clean your knife wounds,” you say gently. “Which means we need to get you out of your tactical gear.” Bucky helps you undress him to the best of his current ability, but he seemingly can’t let the situation pass without playfully making light of what’s happening. “You know, this would be a whole lot more romantic if you lit a few candles.” You snort in response and reply, “It would be a whole lot more romantic if you weren’t bleeding on the sheets.”
Once Bucky is stripped to just his boxers, you help him lean back against the headboard. Bucky silently watches as you pull out the butterfly bandages and antiseptic wipes. You’ve done this so many times that you don’t even bother to tell Bucky that it might sting. He knows the drill, but that doesn’t stop you from doing your best to be gentle. During his seventy years of being tortured and brainwashed, too many people have been rough with him and have treated him harshly. You know he’s not fragile, but you can’t help but pretend that each gentle touch will replace each bad memory of painful touches. Bucky doesn’t flinch as you wipe the cut on his thigh with the wipe. He simply watches as you move to apply the butterfly bandages in the absence of stitches. You wrap the cohesive bandage over the wound and around Bucky’s thigh, but you both know it really doesn’t matter. His wounds will stitch themselves together within a day or two anyway. As you move up to clean the cut just above his left collarbone, your eyes trace the marred scars where metal meets flesh. After you clean and bandage the cut, you let your fingers lightly trail over the scars. You follow the trail of your fingers with soft kisses before looking up to meet Bucky’s eyes. The way he’s looking at you could only be described as adoration, and he gently grabs the back of your neck to bring you in for a kiss. The kiss is soft, but no less toe curling. Like Bucky is using the kiss to convey the way he feels, without knowing how to put those feelings into words. When you break apart, you’re reminded that you need to tend to the small cuts and bruises on his face. You wipe the blood off and apply the antiseptic onto some of the smaller cuts before moving on to the bridge of Bucky’s nose. After cleaning the wound, you smile slightly as you run your finger down his nose. The action makes Bucky scrunch his nose slightly, and you laugh lightly at his reaction. The silence is comfortable and you’re both at ease with each other enough to not always require words.
You help Bucky settle into the bed before cleaning up the first aid supplies and moving to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
As you finish up in the bathroom and climb into bed, Bucky breaks the lingering silence. “I’m not sure what happened earlier.” You can hear the concern in his voice. “I thought Shuri removed all the trigger words, but apparently there was a fail safe buried deep in my head.” You ponder his words before responding. “We can start looking into it tomorrow. I can call Shuri and see if she has time for us to go see her.” “For right now,” you continue, “let’s just rest.” Bucky nods before tilting your chin up so your lips can meet. He kisses you softly and slowly before pulling away. “I love you.” He tells you with conviction, like he doesn’t know what might happen tomorrow. “I love you too, James Buchanan. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.” Bucky smiles slightly while pulling you closer to him. You may not have all the answers, but you have each other. As you both drift off to sleep, that’s enough.
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The Long Con Part Nine
Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: Cursing, fluff, me pretending that I know literally anything about art history or art forgery— again. Summary: You wound up spending much of the day holed up in Marcus’ room, sitting at his desk with the numerous print-outs, a marker, a notebook, and his laptop. 
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You offered to help Marcus with the wedding errands that needed to be done, but he could see how distracted you were by the print-outs he’d been able to get of the x-rays and craquelure of Leda and the Swan. He shook his head, nodding to where you’d already set up shop at his desk. “Don’t worry about wedding stuff today,” He reassured, smiling. Then he tipped your head up for a quick peck and left.
You wound up spending much of the day holed up in Marcus’ room, sitting at his desk with the numerous print-outs, a marker, a notebook, and his laptop. You looked for comparisons between the x-rays of the Mona Lisa, Da Vinci’s sketches of Leda, and the other reproductions that you were more familiar with. Jill actually had to come up and draw you out of the room by taking Marcus’ laptop charging cord hostage. 
When Marcus returned that evening, he found you folding programs with laser focus. 
“Having fun?” He teased, settling down beside you on the floor. You were leaning back against the couch, as you had when you and Marcus had been putting the favors together. 
“Mhm,” You hummed lightly, peering down at the program and lining up the corners of the paper before smoothing down the middle. Marcus picked up an unfolded program, beginning to fold them as you did. 
“How were um-- Errands, how’d they… You know?” You asked absently. “They were fine. Tuxes have been acquired, venue’s got the final headcount, seating chart and favors, photographer’s got the shot list.” “Has Marnie called the hotel they’re staying at and found out if there was an upgrade available?” You glanced at Marcus, “Might be able to get something if she mentions it’s her wedding weekend.” Marcus’ brows rose. “I don’t think she has, but I’ll find out.” “Should probably check in with wherever the rehearsal dinner is being held, too,” You added, turning back to the programs. “I’ll keep that in mind...Are you okay?” Marcus asked as you dropped another folded program atop the pile. “Mhm.” “Hey,” Marcus reached out, setting his hand on your arm. You glanced over at him. “S’wrong?” “You seem a little tense,” He scooched closer, thigh pressing against yours, “I can take over program folding,” He added. “She’s mad at me,” Jill called from the kitchen. “I am not mad!” You called back. “What happened?” Marcus frowned, glancing between the two of you. Jill came into the living room, leaning over the back of the couch and peering down at the two of you. “I made her come out from hunching over those photos that you printed out this morning,” She told Marcus as you pointedly folded another program. Busted. “How long were you in there?” Marcus asked, rubbing his hand over the back of your neck gently. “Since you left. I only got the damn cord away from her half an hour ago,” Jill answered, pushing off of the couch, “Speakin’a which, you hungry, Marky?” You snickered, muttering, “Marky.” “No thanks, mom.” “What about you, honey?” “No thank you, Jill,” You glanced back, offering her a smile before dropping another program atop the pile. Marcus watched her go before he leaned a little closer. “Were you able to work anything out?” He asked, picking up another page. “Nothing substantive,” You grumbled, folding the page and setting it aside. Marcus set his on the pile before he drew you into his chest. You pouted a little, slouching against him as you reached for the next page. “You know I’ve got the team working on this, too, right? And the team working out of the Louvre.” “I know,” You mumbled. “So relax,” Marcus murmured, turning his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m incredibly relaxed. I’m also very focused on folding these programs.” “Sweetheart, programs do not need to be that perfect.” 
“Agree to disagree.” You felt Marcus’ fingers tuck under your chin and turn your head to look at him. You paused in your folding, blinking up at him. “You sure you’re alright?” He asked gently. You were not— but what was one more lie in this house? “Yeah,” You murmured before you leaned up, taking a chance and pecking Marcus’ lips. You felt him smile as he cupped your cheek, keeping you close as he deepened the kiss. You sighed, relaxing a little more and resting a hand on his thigh. As the kiss broke, you rested your head against his neck, closing your eyes as Marcus rubbed his hand over your shoulder. “...Feel better?” He asked quietly. “I think so.” “I can do that anytime,” He added after a moment, and you smiled, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
-- “You still doing that?” Marcus asked. “Hm?” You glanced back at him, catching sight of him in his pajamas. Jill had relinquished the laptop cord shortly after dinner, and Marcus had freed you of program-folding duty. “What...Time is it?” You asked, frowning. “It’s a little after midnight,” Marcus walked over to stand behind you, bracing his hands on the back of your chair and looking over your work, “You comin’ to bed?” You knew that you should— it had been a long day (after Jill had finally ceded the charging cord), and you were a bit tired. “Uh… N--No, not yet—” “C’mon,” Marcus murmured, leaning down and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, “You need to get some sleep.” “I know, I’m gonna, I just— I think I’m really close to something here,” You admitted, looking up at Marcus, “I wanna chase it down. I’ll take it into the living room so the light doesn’t keep you up,” You added, starting to gather up some of the materials. “If you’re sure,” Marcus conceded softly, “But get some sleep, huh?” “I will.” “Promise?” You glanced up at Marcus, smiling. “Promise.” He nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead before heading to bed. 
-- 
You leaned away from the markups on the coffee table, dropping your marker with a shaky hand. 
You’d made a call to where she’d been sent, and found out she had had her sentence shortened. She’d been out for nearly three years— she’d missed parole; there was a warrant out for her arrest. You hadn’t wanted to believe it was her work, you hadn’t, but you’d found the messages she always left. One was in the x-rayed under layers of the wreath of flowers around the swan’s neck: ‘Dominus ad ludere’. And then, another x-rayed layer, within one of the grey layers of the painting, near the darkened fold of the swan’s wing: ‘Ad opus domini’. The master at play, the master at work.  The lettering was small, difficult to spot, but you knew that handwriting, and you knew exactly where to look. You couldn’t help the sick, twisting feeling in your stomach as you picked up your phone. You grabbed your notebook where you’d jotted down your notes on the sketches and brushstrokes, the notes that she’d left behind, and you hurried out to the porch. You sat on the porch swing, peering out into the dark and settling your notebook on your lap. You tucked the phone against your ear, listening as it rang. “Special Agent Melinda Yuen,” Came the answer when the phone was picked up. You were fond of Marcus’ colleague; aside from Marcus, she was who you’d worked the closest with. “Hi, Mel, it’s me,” You said quietly, glancing toward the door. “Hey, professor! How ya been?” “Fine,” You smiled a little at her question, “You?” “I’m alright. If you’re calling looking for Marcus—” “No, I… I wanted to talk to you. Marcus sent me some of the stuff from that da Vinci picked up in Orléans. I took a look at it, it’s definitely not authentic.” “You got notes?” “You have a pen? I’m going to tell you exactly where to look.” You listed off the points and layers that you were able to identify, as well as the suspect for her to look into. Melinda went quiet on the other end for a moment. “Professor, isn’t that your grandm—” “Yes,” You answered hurriedly, “It is.” “...Shit.” “My feelings exactly— Look, Mel, I’ve gotta ask you a favor.” “Sure.” “Don’t...Don’t tell Marcus who called this in until he’s back in D.C.” “Why not?” “Just, please?” You pleaded softly, glancing toward the door. “...I don’t know, professor—” “I’m not asking you to keep it from him forever, just-- Couple’a days.”
“Alright,” Melinda sighed softly, before, “How do you know when he’ll be back, anyway?” “Oh, he uh— mentioned he was going to his sister’s wedding. I don’t wanna ruin his weekend, you know. Figured if I got you on the first ring on this number he must be down there, ‘specially with this big of a case in the office,” You fibbed quickly. “You figure correctly,” Melinda chuckled, “I’ll get these notes over to the team. Night, professor.” “Night, Mel, and thanks.” “Hey, thank you.” You lowered your phone, hanging it up and peering out over the backyard again. You sighed softly, pushing the swing back and forth with one foot. “Can’t sleep?” You jumped at the sound of the question, huffing a shaky laugh at the sight of Marnie. “No,” You confirmed, “What about you?” “Nope,” Marnie sighed, walking over to sit beside you, “I was working on my vows.” “Big speech-writing day in the Pike household,” You teased. “That Marcus’?” Marnie nodded to your notebook. “O-Oh! No. Some uh… Stuff on that painting. Inconsistencies, little things,” You set the notebook down between the two of them, giving Marnie the option to pick it up. She left it be, giving you a little bit of relief in what had been a mostly hellish day. “Think it’s serious?” You shrugged, “Could be inconsequential.” You were already lying to Marnie so much, what was one more? Though, frankly, it made you feel a little crummy. You were growing very fond of Marcus’ family. They were warm, and welcoming. You’d always imagined having a family like them. “You and Marcus seem good, you know?” Marnie said, nudging your shoulder with hers, “I mean...Happy.” You smiled, lowering your eyes. “Your brother is... amazing. All of you are, I mean— I don’t know any family that would open their home to someone they don’t know for a night, let alone an entire week. And your mom— the way she pulled me out of Marcus’ room earlier,” The two of you chuckled, “Well. I’ve appreciated everything since I’ve been here, how kind you all have been.” “Oh,” Marnie reached out, patting your hand lightly, “We’re happy to. ‘Sides, Marcus is clearly smitten with you.” Your stomach churned with unease as you peered down at your hands. Marcus was a better actor than he gave himself credit for. You knew you’d make a liar out of him. “Makes two of us,” You mumbled. Damn, but that was the truth. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo  ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst ; @hnt-escape ; @writingletterstothefire ; @misswriter ; @bison-writes ; @xx-small-town-witch-xx ; @ajeff855 ; @hellovanessax​ ; @drinkingwhileblogging​ ; @strawberryperegrine​ ; @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​
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House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 2
Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.
Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking
Read it on AO3
Chapter 2: Not the new kitchen help
You can now call a cozy apartment with two rooms and a nice bathroom your own. You have stored your things in the bedroom and are now looking around the tower. The living rooms seem to be spread over several levels. Either there are really a lot of people living here or they tried to keep a little space to avoid stepping on each other's toes all the time. Living and working together can be quite a challenge for some people. The floors above consist - judging by the signs - of labs and various development rooms. Most of it is probably technical stuff, but some of the doors also have concerning warnings, and you don't want to spend your first day trying to figure out if they're genuine.
You find the outdoor platform with the big A and see, then it’s connected to some sort of party or lounge room. There are several couch sets and a rather nicely equipped bar. Overall, everything is very spacious and you're sure you can walk around here for a few days without anyone noticing your presence. At least once, you think you've lost your bearings for a moment, but then you find your way back to the elevators. On the other hand, there was surprisingly little going on up here.
All floors below the living area seem to be offices, at least the names of the elevator buttons suggest that. You don't feel like visiting them right now, because the exploration tour has left you pretty hungry. The last meal was also your breakfast this morning and now it's almost afternoon. So you look for the room that interests you the most anyway. And you find it near the lounge: a wonderfully large kitchen with fantastic equipment. You explore it with interest and notice that it‘s visibly little used. Among the people and other beings here, there seems to be no one enjoying cooking. Saving the world probably takes up enough of their time. As you open the refrigerator, a voice suddenly comes from somewhere, startling you briefly at first. "Good afternoon, Miss Barton. If you have any requests regarding the food or ingredients, please let me know." You look around, but can't see anyone. "My name is JARVIS," the voice explains. "I am an A.I. and I am available to assist you." "Uh-huh...hello," you merely reply, processing this information. Jarvis, meanwhile, continues talking. "Welcome to the Tower. The other Avenger members have been notified of your arrival in a memo." "Okay, thanks." It‘s a bit weird talking to a room, but apparently modern technology has already reached the next level here. Hearing nothing more, you start inspecting the contents of the refrigerator. The result is quite sobering. "It's all just fast foods," you grumble. "Would you like to suggest changes in the selection?", Jarvis asks. "Yes! Please and thank you." "You're welcome to make a shopping list, and I'll have everything ordered." Why not? Regardless of whether a computer can really do it, you nod. "Okay." "A personal tablet will be calibrated for you. You can pick it up from Mr. Banner."
A few minutes later you find yourself in the labs on the upper floors. The sterile lit hallway reminds you much more of Shield than the lower floors. You turn a corner and have to go down some stairs that lead you into a large room. Here, tables are jumbled with various types of modern computers and equipment. Further back is a robotic arm soldering a hard drive all by itself with a quiet whir. It’s a dream for any technology enthusiast. From one corner, you hear typing and beeping, followed by quiet murmurs. That's where you turn, looking at the whiteboards on the wall along the way, where complicated calculations and drawings could be seen. Then suddenly, right in front of you, a hologram appears in the air and you stop, rooted to the spot. "Oops!" "Oh, sorry." A head pops up from behind a nearby screen and you recognize Bruce Banner. His face is always shown on the news whenever there's been a shot of Hulk. But now you're more interested in the hologram as you take a closer look. It shows a nebulous, pulsating entity. "What is that?" you ask the scientist. "We got some cosmic stones. This was in one of them." "It's moving. Is it alive?" "Living would be an exaggeration, but there is energy present. My name is Dr. Banner, by the way." He reduzes the size the hologram so it's out of your way. "Barton, nice to meet you." "Clint's sister, I read the file. He never mentioned you though." "I didn't want any attention, but didn't quite work out, I guess." Bruce smiles sympathetically and reaches for a cup of tea, which, judging by his expression after the first sip, seems to be cold. You ask for the tablet you came for, and Bruce looks around searchingly. There are a few of them in the room, but the display of one lights up, drawing your attention. You see your name displayed and simply conclude that it's the right one. Briefly you say thank and goodbye, before you go back to your room and start making a shopping list. Please fresh ingredients and please deliver today.
Afterwards, you browse around a bit. The tablet, like every electronic device in the house, seems connected to the main computer and to Jarvis. You pull up a few files on your new housemates and read them curiously. At least the parts that are publicly available. You also take the opportunity to look for your own name. Because even though you know that your records were officially destroyed when you left, you know that no data is ever really gone. So you're almost surprised when you find only a few sentences about yourself and not even a photo. Mainly it was about your and Clint's entry into Shield at a young age as orphans. You had received a pretty good education, which may have also kept you from going off the rails. Besides hand-to-hand combat and firearms training, your specialty was handling knives, while your brother took up bows and arrows. For foreign missions, you had also had to learn various languages and had chosen the widely spoken Spanish and Russian. But you didn't work for Shield for a long time, instead opting out of your career early on. It just wasn't the life you wanted to lead. So you changed cities and mingled with the civilian population. And before you knew it, your talent with a knife led you into a traditional apprenticeship as a chef. You enjoyed this work more than having to fight to death, and you even expanded your knowledge and skills during a year abroad in France. But there is very little of all this in your records.
You set the tablet aside and stretch out on your new bed. Normally, you would be in full swing at work right now. A glance at the clock reveals that it's already early evening. Rush hour in most of the restaurants. But here? Without a task or a plan, there's not much you can do. On the other hand, a little vacation wouldn't hurt you.
At some point, the tablet gave a soft ping and when you checked, it was a notification that the refrigerator and all the pantries had been restocked. By now you are very hungry and you heard nothing about a joint dinner time, so you decide to cook yourself something. Out of sheer habit and to avoid getting your clothes dirty, you put on a chef's jacket and apron you brought from home and go into the kitchen. There's a radio in one corner that you turn on. Jarvis really did get everything you had asked for. It was a dream come true. Now in a much better mood, you grab a pan and get to work. From the freezer, you pull out a fish, which you gut and fill with fresh herbs. It goes into the pan first. Then it's the turn of the potatoes, which are peeled, boiled and rolled in rosemary.
You're so absorbed in your work - you've just poked a knife into the boiling potatoes to see if they're already done - that you don't notice a visitor, who had entered the kitchen at some point, until he makes himself known. "I'll have the course menu and a white wine to go with it." Somewhat confused, you look up as you hear the man's voice and see Tony Stark standing at the sideboard across from you. He notices your look and returns it with a smile. "I didn't realize we hired a new kitchen help." You frown and take a sharpening rod in your free hand to sharpen your knife while not taking your eyes off Tony. "Oh, I'm not a new kitchen help," you clarify. "I'm a chef." "Excuse me. Then would the chef please serve me the course menu and a white wine?" The trillionaire indicates a polite bow, but you merely turn to the stove and take the potatoes off it. You then retrieve a plate from the cupboard. "Jarvis", you direct your voice to the computer, hoping it’s still listening. "Would you please explain to Mr. Stark that I'm not here to cook for him and that he'll have to order his course menu, if he really wants one, from the Chinese place next door?" "Mr. Stark, I'm supposed to-." "I heard her, Jarvis," Tony interrupts the A.I., eyeing you a little more closely now. "That does make me wonder what you're doing here, Miss...? Aside from the fact that there's no Chinese working next door." "Then you should make one move in there," you replay amused. As you do, you wipe your fingers on the cloth you've hung on the apron at your hip and prep your dish. Just as Tony is about to say something clever, the door opens and another person walks in. You recognize Thor at first glance. "What's that delicious smell in the air?", he asks, looking around curiously. You smile and point to the stove. "I was just cooking. There's still some left for you to take." With that, you want to go to your room, but Tony stops you. "Oh, he gets something, but I don't?", he complains. You shrug your shoulders. "He didn't want a whole menu." With that, you disappear through the door and go back to your living quarters. There you quickly change into something comfy and make yourself comfortable on the couch, where you watch an episode of your favorite show while you eat. A little company would be nice, but you don't feel like meeting more people you don't know yet. And you don't feel like searching for Natasha in this huge complex. So you’re fine with being by your own right own.
After dinner, you continue watching the show, but eventually you realize you're getting tired. It really had been an eventful and long day. So you quickly take your dirty dishes back to the kitchen. But just as you're closing the dishwasher, Tony comes back in and leans against the frame with his arms crossed. "So… you‘re a Barton." Apparently he had spent a few minutes of his precious time gathering information about you and then waited for you to reappear. "Surprised there's another one?" you ask with a smirk. He takes that as a sign that you're not holding a grudge against him. He pushes himself off the door frame and comes closer, now leaning his arms on the kitchen island. "Nothing about Legolas surprises me anymore. Met his wife and kids the other day. Nice family. Are you guys a whole circus?" "Not anymore." You shrug. "So, what’s your deal?", he wants to know. "You left Shield in your early twenties. What's normal life like out there? No one waiting for you to come home?" You turn on the dishwasher and grab a water bottle from the supply. "Life is nice. Often stressful, but I have to worry a lot less about getting killed." You don't answer Tony's last question. It's really none of his business. "That is when you're not being yanked out of that life and brought into the house of superheroes", you add. "You'll get used to it. Both that we're super and that we're heroes. I promise." You laugh at his words. Tony seems to be a real egocentric, but also a humorous person. "Well, let's see", you reply, "Now if the welcome speech is over, I'd like to go to bed." "I won't keep anyone away from their beauty sleep. Good night." You wish him the same, then head back to your room, where you make yourself comfortable on the large bed. The strange surroundings were unfamiliar, but not you don't feel uncomfortable and so you soon fall asleep.
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midnightsconspiracy · 4 years
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Office Romance?
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Office Romance? - @midnightsconspiracy
Summary: It's Mouse’s first day in the 21st district. Jay introduces him to the whole team, except you who seems to always be out until you finally meet at Molly’s and completely hit it off
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2193
Requested: Nope but my requests are currently open
A/N: This is my first time writing for Mouse and the longest fic I’ve written, so hopefully everyone likes it! :)
Masterlist
It was Mouse’s first day in Intelligence, it was finally the day that he was going to turn his life around. No longer living in sketchy areas and gaining felonies but instead becoming a legit member of society and working for a reputable institution, the Chicago police department. He had been recommended to the boss by his friend and former military buddy Jay Halstead, who unlike himself, had managed to get a proper holding in society after being discharged from the Rangers. This was finally his chance to show Jay and everyone else who cares about him that he could do something else good with his life and that he was more than just his time in the military.
Meeting Jay outside the district, the two men embrace in a warm hug, briefing saying their hellos and reminiscing on old times before they ascended the stairs. They pasted Sergeant Platt, Jay giving her a small hello in which she ignored and Mouse, despite having only met her once, gave her a polite smile. Punching in the passcode alongside his handprint, he unlocked the door climbing the second set of stairs up to the place he would call ‘home’ for hopefully years to come. Reaching the top Jay paused, Mouse quick to follow his actions.
“Guys this is Mouse, Mouse this is the Unit. That’s Dawson, Lindsay, Olinsky, Atwater, Nadia, and Sergeant Voight’s in his office.” The people in the room all averted their gaze from their own individual work, with Voight even exiting his office to greet him as well, to greet the newest member of the team, all presenting him with a momentary smile, short greeting, or handshake.
“Oh and Y/LN and Ruzek are currently out chasing up a lead right now but should be back soon,” Jay quickly followed up, trying to familiarise his buddy up with as much as possible to make him as comfortable as he could, knowing mouse struggled with rejoining society.
“Ok-k, well it's good meeting everyone, and I hope I can be of assistance to you all,” he mumbled out nervously, he admired Jay and Voight for giving him this opportunity but it still didn’t stop the feelings that they had a level of superiority over him due to their jobs. Taking him downstairs to his own tech room, he prompted Mouse to take a look around to get accustomed to his surroundings.
“What do you think buddy?
“I think it will do the job just fine,” he smiled back to jay reassuring him that he could do this.
“Ok, well if you’re all good I’ve got work to do myself,” Jay announced before turning and leaving Mouse to his own devices, finally leaving him to prove himself worthy.
—————
Mouse’s day was hectic, to say the least. Members of the team were constantly in and out of the tech room or calling him, getting him to give them vital information as quickly as he possibly could. But he thrived in the conditions present, what previously was extreme anxiety when he first entered turned into adrenaline. He hadn’t experienced such a high-intensity situation since his time at the Rangers, but he loved it. The Rangers was the place he felt most at home and alive, but the ‘accident’ had caused him to be honourably discharged. He wanted to be back in Afghanistan with Jay and his other military buddies desperately, feeling as though he had a place there, that he was actually contributing something good to the world, but this would do for the time, this was the best thing for him right now.
From what he could figure out, the unit was dealing with a human trafficking case in which multiple girls were found dead by the Docks, thrown into a container, and starved to death. Pulling up the names of multiple different men, he stared into their eyes as the pictures came up on his screen and felt no remorse for them as he heard each man be dragged into the cage one by one. The team managed to successfully find lead after lead, deciding to either all roll out together or keep sending Ruzek and Y/LN out. It was already about halfway through the day and Mouse still had not met the said people, only occasionally hearing their voices or being told to send them the information he was finding.
—————
As the day further progressed things started to flatline, leads found previously being a bust and nobody seeming to find anything worthwhile. The whole team worked tireless upstairs as Mouse found them the material they needed downstairs. Finally, after an hour of absolutely nothing, Dawson managed to get vital information from a CI and so a feasible lead was afoot. As the others were gearing up and getting ready to finally make some arrests, Jay popped his head into Mouse’s tech cave.
“Mouse I need you to send me the information on Spencer Phillips ASAP,” he was just about to walk out when he turned his head slightly to utter a few final words to his friend,
“And good job buddy, we really appreciate it.” Mouse smiled as he looked up the information for Jay, maybe he was going something good for the world, especially if his dearest friend thought so.
—————
The lead had been successful and two arrests of notable people in a human trafficking ring were arrested. The case was not fully closed, the organisation still up and running, but the perpetrators of the murders were put away to never see a day in the sun again. That was enough for Voight to warrant the members of his team a break to go home, rest and in the younger detective's case visit the local bar, Molly’s. Coming back up to the main room Jay greeted Mouse, patting him on the back for a job well done, he had underestimated his friend, thinking that he may struggle with his job just as he had coped with his anxiety and PTSD after coming back from the Middle East. Walking further into the room Mouse finally got to see the infamous man who had manage to evade his line of sight for the whole working day, Adam Ruzek. Approaching him he finally got to introduce himself.
“Hi, it's nice to finally meet you”
“Yeah, you too Mouse, I feel like I’ve been swept off my feet the whole day, you coming to Molly’s”
“I wasn’t planning to but sure why not?” Mouse had a vague idea of what Molly’s was, Jay sometimes talking about the bar run by first responders, but he was excited to finally see it for himself. Turning to Jay, who was packing his stuff up at his desk, he assumed he would want to go to the bar alongside the rest of the team,
“Molly’s then?” He smirked knowing Jay would never turn him or drinking down,
“Of course.” Leaving the district together, the two guys headed in the direction of the bar relieved to finally get away from work and have some downtime. Unbeknown to them you were in the changing room with Kim chatting away, excited to go for a drink and ready to go upstairs to meet the new tech guy. Little did you know you would be very disappointed when you did so.
—————
Arriving at the bar the men settled into the unit's usual booth at the back of the bar, flagging down Hermann to get two beers so that they could finally unwind from a long day of stressful events.
“The rest of the team should be here shortly, but how was your first day buddy, tell me all,” Jay asked hoping that his friend liked the position so that he could work towards becoming an outstanding member of the community and chuffed that he was working alongside his best friend once more.
“It was good man, I don’t really know what else to say about it. Um..I finally felt as if I was doing something with myself, I felt that adrenaline I missed from the Rangers, but I miss it, the thrill, the relationships, everything really Jay.” Jay sighed not knowing what to say, annoyed at his friend for missing it, he had spent so long trying to pull Mouse out of that bad place, a constant cycle of anxiety, depression, and PTSD, that it hurt him that he wanted to go back. The tense situation was interrupted by the rest of the team arriving, taking up the rest of the room in the booth with Erin snuggling up to Jay and Adam getting up to buy a round for the table. All the usual suspects were there enjoying themselves, except one, you.
You had gone home to shower and get out of your work clothes before making your way to meet the rest of the team for some rest and relaxation, maybe nestling a few beers throughout the night. Making your way into the bar, you passed members of firehouse 51, making small talk with them before moving towards Hermann to get yourself an alcoholic beverage. Thanking him you turned to walk over to your unit's table, spotting an unfamiliar figure in the corner of the booth next to jay, which you could assume was the new tech guy Mouse.
“Christ Y/LN where have you been?” Your partner Adam boomed, already a little tipsy from the two beers he had consumed.
“Sorry I had to go home first, wanted to freshen up,” you smiled amused at how much of a lightweight Adam really was, despite claiming otherwise.
“Y/N this is Mouse, I don’t think you’ve met yet,” Jay interrupted you, drawing your attention away to introduce you to the nervous man beside him. Looking him dead in the eyes, you noticed how attractive he was, you had just presumed that Mouse would be less than average looking considering his measly nickname, but no, the man in front of you was undeniably handsome with a charming smile and deep blue eyes.
“Hi, it's nice to meet you, sorry I didn’t meet you earlier, seems like we were both at the wrong place at the wrong time,” you gave a shy smile, sitting down next to Kevin trying to look confident despite the nervousness you felt inside.
“I-its good to meet you to Y/N, seems like the universe is not in our favour huh?” He stuttered equally as nervous, for what you assumed was first-time jitters, but little did you know it was because he found you equally as attractive.
——————
Throughout the night you continued talking with all members of your unit but especially Mouse. You felt naturally drawn to him, not just because of your attraction but also the stories he told that fascinated you, some from his days in the rangers and other ones from his childhood. By the end of the night, you too had managed to move to sit next to each other, with the members of your unit seeing you hit it off immediately and so pushed you together hoping for another office romance. Completely enamoured by him, you didn’t even notice that the other people in the bar were starting to trickle out slowly and Hermann’s last order was thirty minutes ago. Finally noticing your surroundings after the bartender had called your name and told you it was closing time, you checked your watch noticing the late time. Turning to Mouse you smiled and softly spoke about the revelation,
“I didn’t even realise how late it was, maybe we should get out of here, wait wait! Not like that, well unless you want you.” Noticing what you had said, you shyly smiled hoping he wouldn’t think you were too weird.
“That sounds good,” he cheekily smirked moving out of the booth, allowing you to get out too and heading towards the doors of the bar, saying a brief goodnight to Hermann on your way out. You walked down the street together to where your cars were parked, going at a slow pace, trying to extend your time together for as long as possible. Locating your car you stood next to it as you went to say your goodbyes to the handsome man in front of you.
“Thank you for keeping me company tonight, I really enjoyed it”
“Yeah me too, but I was hoping we could do it again sometime, just you and me?” Completely taken aback you stuttered to think of your response, you weren’t not thrilled about it at all, just completely surprised that he liked you as you did him.
“I’d love to Mouse, give me your phone,” handing you his phone you put your number in, silently hoping he would be one of those guys that actually use your number instead of ignoring it completely. Proceeding to hand it back, you both stood in silence not knowing what to say. But in this situation, no words were needed, only actions. So when he leaned in to place his lips, you gladly reciprocated the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. Little did you know this would lead to a lifetime of desire and devotion.
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lipstickstainz · 4 years
Text
true lies - s. r. (9/15)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.
Chapter Summary: Spencer and you talk about your friendship.
Warnings: angst, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: this is angsty and I’m so sorry! hope you enjoy! gif not mine.
Series Masterlist
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“Have you read that book I brought you the other day?", Spencer asks as you get off the elevator together in the morning.
You nod. "I started it, but I haven't finished it completely yet. But it's really well written and, above all, very exciting", you answer him, giving him a smile, which he happily returns.
"Another book of his was made into a movie last year. We could watch the movie together sometime, if you like", he suggests as he holds the glass door open for you, like a gentleman, so you can go through first.
"I'd love to, actually."
You are - apart from Emily, of course - the first of the team to arrive today, but you don't mind. You both leave your bags at your desks before heading to the kitchen for your morning coffee. While Spencer fills the cups, you find the sugar and milk before adding both to his coffee in prodigious amounts. Your grips are rehearsed, because lately it's become routine for you to get your coffee together, and it feels good to stand so close to him and feel his warmth through your clothes, which you don't let on, of course. But being friends with him is so easy, so simple, you can't help but enjoy it.
Spencer playfully nudges you with his elbow as you put the sugar back. Before you can nudge back, you hear Emily call out. "Y/N? Will you come into my office for a minute, please?" She stands at the railing and her gaze darts from you to Spencer before she turns and disappears again. You nod, though she's already gone, before smiling once more at Spencer and walking up the few stairs. When you enter the office, Emily is already sitting behind her desk, quickly closing a file that says "top secret" on it, which gives you pause, but you don't address her on it.
"What's up?", you ask her as you close the door behind you.
Her expression is composed. "We need to talk."
You sit down on the chair in front of her table, coffee in both hands. As far as you know, you haven't done anything wrong, which is why you're a little unsure what Emily wants to talk to you about and where this conversation should lead. But you don't have time to think about it, because she gets straight to the point.
"I'm really happy for you that Spencer and you are getting close again", she says, clasping her hands on the table in front of her. Your gaze drifts to her kneading fingers, and something tells you this isn't a conversation between friends.
"But?"
She smiles weakly. "Do you think it's the right thing to do?"
You raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Emily sighs. "While I think this friendship is good for both of you, or whatever this is between you, I also think it's not fair to him."
"Not fair?" you inquire, even though you know exactly what she's getting at. Emily nods.
"After all, your current friendship is based on a lie, Y/N. You told him you didn't love him, and apparently he believes you. But what if something more develops between you? Are you willing to keep lying to him and pretending you didn't make the deal?"
You'd love to get up and leave, but Emily's gaze has softened, and it tells you she's worried not only about Spencer, but about you, too. "I know exactly what I'm getting into. I made the deal, after all."
"I'm aware of that, and I'm not trying to force anything on you, Y/N. And certainly not trying to change your mind. I just want you to think hard about where this friendship can take you. And how far you're willing to go for it." She gets up from her chair and circles the table until she stops in front of you.
You have to swallow hard. "We've got him, Emily. It's all right." Your voice trembles, because you know full well that Emily is right. It's not fair to Spencer. None of this is fair to him at all. You lower your eyes and look into your cup of coffee as if it holds all the answers. "What do you want me to do, Emily? I love him." It's been ages since you've said it out loud, afraid that something bad might happen, but it just bursts out of you, lifting a weight off your shoulders that you didn't know was weighing you down. As you look at Emily, a tear runs down your cheek.
Carefully, Emily takes the cup from your hands and sets it down on the table before pulling you from the chair and hugging you tightly."This is up to you, Y/N.  Just know that I'm always by your side. No matter what you decide."
-
"You're the absolute best", you grin at David as he hands you a glass of whiskey. He winks at you before dropping onto the lounger next to you. You carefully sip your drink, and the cool whiskey is a pleasant contrast to the weather, though it burns a little on the finish.
It's unseasonably warm for this time of year, which has enticed much of the team to storm Rossi's mansion on a Saturday off, enjoying its large garden, cold drinks, and the pleasant waters of the swimming pool. While Emily, David and you occupy the loungers by the pool and the sun warms your skin, Tara and Spencer sit on the terrace playing chess. You try to tune them out, concentrating on the chirping of the birds and the pleasant breeze - if it ever comes - but in between you hear Tara swearing and have to grin. No one wins against Spencer at chess. No matter how many times you try.
"Thanks for putting up with us", Emily grins at David, pushing her sunglasses down her nose a little before leaning over and looking over you in his direction. "And for the drinks, of course. I don't think anyone else here can afford booze that expensive." She holds her glass out to you and you clink yours, resulting in a nice sound.
"I invited you to enjoy the nice weather with me", David begins, taking a sip of his drink. "Not for you to drink all my good stuff." His complaint is feigned, as he can't help but smile. Emily leans back and has to grin as well.
The sun beats down on you relentlessly, and you're glad you slathered on sunscreen beforehand. In fact, it's so warm that you unceremoniously pull your shirt over your head to let more air get to your hot skin. The movement draws Emily's attention back to you and again she pushes her glasses down a little.
"Nice bikini. Is that new?"
You shake your head. "Bought it ages ago, but never had the time or opportunity to put it on." You grin at her. "Unfortunately, when you have to work around the clock, you don't have the free time for some things."
"I already took the hint," she replies with a smile, sipping her drink before giving you another look. It lands on bare skin just below your bikini top. "I didn't know you could speak French."
"I can't." You feel the alcohol burning in your throat as you drink every last drop of the whiskey. Both Emily and David look at you uncertainly, but say nothing in response. They also say nothing as you try to avoid the conversation by getting up from your seat with the glass in your hand. You pretend not to notice the looks they exchange among themselves. "You guys want anything else?" They both shake their heads, and Emily watches you as you slip on your shoes and disappear toward the house, where the bottle of whiskey is waiting for you.
As you walk past Tara and Spencer, you feel his gaze on you. "Are you okay?", he asks. You raise your empty glass and nod at him.
"Just need to fill it up", you reply and walk past them into the house without turning around.
You find the bottle in the kitchen on the counter. You pour yourself a little into your empty glass before closing the bottle and putting it back.You let the glass swirl in your hand, watching the liquid circulate inside before taking a hearty swig.
Actually, you don't want to be here. You didn't have any particular plans for today, but being around Spencer hadn't been on your to-do list at all.
Actually, you didn't want to be here. You didn't have any particular plan for Saturday, but being around Spencer hadn't been on your to-do list at all.You'd actually been avoiding him lately, hoping he wouldn't notice, but he's a good profiler.  So you're not surprised when he enters the kitchen and stands on the other side of the kitchen island. Right in your field of vision.
"You shouldn't drink so much if you're going to stay out in the sun all day." You don't lift your eyes from your glass, but feel his on you. Without looking at him, you raise an eyebrow. "Alcohol causes blood vessels to dilate, which can lead to circulatory problems and unconsciousness", he continues to explain, letting his fingers dance across the cool marble slab.
"Good to know", you reply, taking another sip. Spencer puckers his mouth into a thin line, which doesn't escape your notice, but you don't want to ask either. You've resolved to spend as little time with him as possible, and asking him drunk if everything is okay with him would be a pretty bad start.
"Are you okay?", he finally asks you, you nod slowly even though it's anything but the truth. It hurts to have him so close, and to have to keep yourself away from him. To want to, you correct yourself in your mind. "I don't believe you."
You smile weakly at him. "That's not my problem." You're about to leave the kitchen, but he grabs your arm and holds you tight. "What are you doing, Spencer? Let go of me."
"Not until you tell me what's going on." As he swallows, you see his Adam's apple bounce. "That's what friends are for, Y/N."
You suppress a laugh. "This was a really bad idea."
"What?"
It's now or never. You gather all your courage and point to the space between you with your free hand. "This. The friends thing." Your gaze lingers on the spot where his long fingers curl around your arm. You feel his warmth on your skin, almost burning into your flesh, and you want most to snatch your arm from him and flee, but his grip is firm.
"Why would it be a bad idea?" As you meet his gaze, there's something in it, but you can't put your finger on what exactly.
"You shouldn't want to be friends with me, Spencer."
"And why not? Because you broke my heart?" Though his hand comes away from your arm, his voice and cool and determined.
You exhale deeply. "I think we need more time, more distance from each other, to make it work."
Something collapses in Spencer's face and you have to look away. "I've had a year. I don't need more time, or more distance. We were good friends then, Y/N. Why can't we be now?"
You blink away the tears in your eyes before looking at him again, hoping he doesn't notice them. "There's been too much going on, Spencer. I don't think this friendship is going to move us forward. Or do you any good. You shouldn't want to be friends with the woman who left you at the altar. You should want me to go away and never come back, not to spend the day with me like nothing happened." You realize you're talking yourself into a frenzy, but you can't stop.
"I have. For a whole year, and I don't want that anymore. I don't want to feel this anymore. I don't want to feel that way anymore. I want to be friends with you so I can be done with it." He doesn't wipe away the tear that has crept down his cheek. As he continues to speak, his voice breaks. "I want to be friends with you so I don't have to love you anymore." When you don't say anything, he runs his hand through his hair. "I don't want to love you anymore, Y/N, because that's what's not good for me. Because I lie awake at night wishing you were lying next to me. I don't want that anymore."
Spencer's words hit you so unexpectedly that they knock the air out of your lungs. You don't know if it's them or the whiskey making you feel like you're going to throw up, but you pull yourself together. You don't want him to know how much it hurts you. You'd like to answer him, but you don't know what either, which is why you stay silent and just look at him.
"I can't hate you because it's eating me up.And I don't want to love you because it's destroying me. The only middle ground I can think of is for us to be friends, and I thought you'd want that too."
"Spencer," you begin, your voice barely louder than a whisper. "It's not right. And you know it." Before all the dams really burst on you, you push past him. You're careful not to touch each other, because you couldn't bear it.
"If you care so little for me," he calls after you, and you stop without turning around. "Why did you get that saying tattooed in my handwriting?"
Tears run down your cheeks, and you leave without looking back.
next part
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novelist-becca · 3 years
Text
Won’t you let me in?
Fandom: The Owl House
Relationships: Eda & Luz
Summary: After the events of Separate Tides, Eda and Luz have a talk. Title is from the song “Strange Sight” by KT Tunstall.
AO3
What a day this is turning out to be, Eda thought as the so-called “Golden Guard” approached her and Luz. 
The witch had originally planned to take the money back to the house after checking in on the Selkidomus. 
But then she got caught, and it turned out Luz was on the ship instead of safe at home. (She had expected Luz to follow the cart home after they started driving back to the house) The kid had apparently wanted in on the bounty hunt, once again not knowing what she was getting into. Forget the money that was forgotten in the boiling sea, Luz was more important! Eda had of course questioned her.
“Now why were YOU on that ship to begin with? You could've gotten killed!” 
And then the Golden Chump showed up, and here they are. 
“Hello, criminals!” He said. “What's about to happen should be relatively painless. If you just do what I say.” 
“And why would we do that?” Luz retorted.
“Because none of you can use real magic.” He said, pointing a finger at the both of them. 
Eda narrowed her eyes and pointed back. “You don't know that.” Sure, glyph magic was different, but she won't stand the talk of it not being “real”. They haven't seen Luz in action.
The Golden Guard shrugged. “Maybe not. But I do know you're standing on a plant that eats flesh.” 
On cue, Eda and Luz looked down to see that they were indeed, standing on a flesh eating plant. And just in time, both of them could already feel the thing burning through their shoes. They yelped and lept to the side as the guard just watched. 
Ugh, stupid Golden Guard…, Eda thought. 
“Ahahaha! Okay.” He chortled. “The human will remain a sailor to repay all the money she lost.”
Eda tensed up at that idea. As if she'd allow Luz to become a pawn for the stupid emperor, just for some stupid money! 
Luz needs to be safe at home…
“While the Owl Lady will be arrested, again! For attacking one of the emperor's ships.” 
Luz looked at Eda, surprised. “Emperor’s ship?” She repeated. 
“They're the only ones worth robbing.” Eda replied. At least the kid didn't know. She thought. She supposed Luz wouldn't have gone if she knew this was a setup from Belos. She turned back to the guard.
“Why are you guys hunting the Selkidomus? It's a peaceful creature and you're provoking it!” Eda demanded. 
“The emperor ordered me to slay one. I'm just following orders.” The guard said nonchalantly. 
Losing her cool, Eda glared at him. “Well I'm just gonna smack you around a bit!” She shouted, snapping her arm off. Unfortunately, the Golden Guard was too quick for her, dodging her to the point where she tripped. 
“Leave Eda alone!” Eda heard Luz shout. Then the kid was tossed aside next to her. 
Apparently, the dingus wasn't finished with them quite yet, because he then threatened to dip them into the Boiling Sea, ouch, but then he changed his mind. 
“I don't have to be that mean.” He said snarkily. 
Titan I hate this guy already…
“No one will have to be a sailor or get arrested. If one of you follows those Selkidomus tracks and slays the beast.” He ordered. “Here! I'll help!” Then the guard materialized a sword into the air, dropping it in front of them. 
What is it with the coven and slaying innocent creatures?!
Luz looked at the sword, and back up to the guard, pleading with her eyes. 
The guard rubbed his mask. “Ugh, you're making this difficult. Go, or I drown the bird.” He said, revealing King behind the cage he had. Thankfully, the demon appeared unharmed. 
Eda looked at Luz, seeing her conflicted face. If she had Owlbert with her right now, she would've grabbed her kid and tried to make a break for it, as if the ordeal never happened. 
But of course it wasn't that simple. 
Luz sighed. “Fine.” And to Eda’s alarm, she picked up the sword. “I'll do it.” She said in a low voice. 
Eda reached out an arm as Luz headed towards the cave. 
“Luz, wait!” She pleaded. There had to be a way out of this other than killing! “Luz!” 
On the way to the area where the Selkidomus was, Eda was trying to disuade Luz from doing what she was about to do. 
“Luz, don't hurt the Selkidomus. We can find another way out of this.” She said. 
But Luz kept walking. “You heard what he said, Eda. If you and King want to be free…” Luz stopped in front of a ditch and jumped onto a shipwreck. “Then I have to do this alone.”
The witch found it hard to ignore that Luz excluded herself from the “being free” deal, and her heart started pounding at the sight of Luz being above a ditch again. She didn't like where this was going at all. 
“What's this ‘alone’ business? Don't you remember?” Eda tried reminding her. “Us weirdos have to-” 
“What? Stick together?” Luz snapped. She looked at Eda, forlorn, almost startling her with the sadness in her face. “Because you stuck with me you lost your magic! You almost got turned to stone, and now you can't even afford your apple blood because you're worried about what I need to eat!” She rambled, looking down sadly. 
Eda stared at Luz, her heart breaking for the girl. She knew Luz was going through some things, but she didn't think it was this bad. Only a week and a half of them being together again, and Luz still blames herself. She should've paid more attention in the last week. Eda tried to find the words to tell Luz that no, this isn't your fault, you can come down from there and we can find a different way to go back home together. 
But before Eda could come up with an answer, the Selkidomus below growled, meaning it was awake. Luz kept her balance on the beam, then looked away from Eda.
“It's my fault all this happened, that's why I've got to do this alone.” She looked back at Eda, smiling. “I'll make it all up to you, Eda the Owl Lady. I promise.” 
Then, to Eda’s horror, Luz let herself fall off the beam and down the ditch. She couldn't help reaching her hands out, as if she could actually catch her. Her heart dropped to her stomach and she couldn't help crying out Luz’s name. 
No, no, NO-
Suddenly, Eda was reminded of that day on the bridge. Her sister tossing Luz aside like a ragdoll, into the ditch, that terrified little girl screaming as she fell, onto the spikes- 
“LUZ!” 
Eda shook herself out of her stupor, reminding herself of what to do. 
Thinking quickly, Eda grabbed a nearby vibe and lept down the ditch to find her kid.
She just got her back, and she'll be damned if she lost her again.
Soon enough, the witch found a safe ledge to stand on and Eda spotted the kid on the ground, preparing to throw herself at the Selkidomus, which was already defending itself. Eda spotted a nearby branch, thick and strong enough to use. She tugged on it, preparing to swing. 
Just as Luz had catapaulted herself in the air with her ice glyph, Eda swung in just in time. She wrapped an arm around Luz, holding her as tight and as close as possible under one arm so she wouldn't be dropped. 
I gotcha, kiddo!
Thankfully they were able to avoid the creature’s jaws and landed safely in a bush. 
As soon as they landed, Luz had tumbled out of Eda’s arms and clumsily sat back up. Eda recovered as well, turning back to the kid. 
Eda pointed a finger at Luz, and she stared back with wide eyes, startled. 
“You think throwing your life away is gonna help me? Well it won't.” Eda said firmly. She needed Luz to hear this. Luz deserved to hear this. 
“You helped me find King’s crown when you barely knew me, you saved me from turning to stone,” Eda averted her eyes from the kid, starting to feel emotional. “And you even got me talking to my sister again.” She looked back up, seeing that Luz was still listening. 
“So…unfortunately for you…my life is pretty great because I'm friends with Luz the Human.” Eda finished, her voice wavering. 
That seemed to be exactly what Luz needed, because now she was looking at her with glistening eyes and a trembling lip.
Eda blinked her eyes hard to keep the tears at bay, and her face got serious again.
Focus, Eda, we need to get out of here.
“Now,” She snapped out of it and grabbed Luz’s face, startling her. “Your guilt-ridden brain is clouding your judgement.” She said, poking Luz’s forehead. “There’s gotta be a way out of this where no one has to get hurt.” Eda let go of the kid’s cheeks and looked around the cave.
Just then, a small noise made them turn around. A baby Selkidomus had approached them. Luz looked at it for a moment, putting the pieces together in her head, then turned back to Eda.
“Eda,” the witch looked at Luz, willing to hear any plan she had right now.
“Do you wanna learn your first glyph?” She asked with a determined smile, holding up one of her light glyphs.
Not for the first time, Eda marvels at just how bright her kid is.
~
Later, Luz and Eda had managed to create a fake Selkidomus out of plant glyphs and made it work by using the light glyphs to fool the Golden Guard into thinking they were fighting the real thing.
The power of theatrics and a bright young mind. 
Moments later, Eda had gotten up and used whatever paper was left to draw more light glyphs on the ground. 
She still remembers the first time Luz casted these glyphs. They were so beautiful, and Eda always found them comforting. And now she gets to draw them herself. It only took a week for her to finally try it, but it was worth it.
It wasn’t long before Luz returned with King safely out of the cage. When she approached, Eda took a ball of light in her hands and glanced up at Luz.
“My first glyph! Did I do good?” If she was being completely honest, Eda felt like a giddy little kid again, learning new magic and sharing it with the people she loved. It felt wonderful.
Luz observed her with a bright smile. “Yeah! You did great!”
The baby Selkidomus returned, quickly worming its way toward Luz, nuzzling her, which delighted the kid as she was hugging back.
“Baby, awwwww!” She cooed, and a part of Eda was relieved to see the Luz she knew begin to return.
“Wait- what is that?!” King asked, alarmed.
“Don’t worry, King, once the mother saw we weren’t a threat to her baby she calmed down.” Eda reassured, patting the baby gently. Then she turned to the mother behind them. “This area is dangerous,” she explained. “You need to move further out, into the sea.” 
Understanding Eda’s warning, the creature nodded. Then something strange happened. It started...gagging. Until it puked up a pile of some gold goop, which Eda recognized to be Selkie Gris.
Mother of Titan, they hit the jackpot!
Luz stared at it with disgust for a few seconds before Eda excitedly pulled her close in a side hug. 
“Hot dang! It gave you the treasure of the sea!” Eda said in excitement, holding her kid with one arm and holding the other arm out to present their prize.
“Gold? ...Tuna?” Luz said in confusion.
“It’s Selkie Gris!” Eda let Luz go and scooped some of the stuff into her hands. “People pay big money for it at the night market!” Seeing Luz’s still confused face, she got an idea. The witch smushed it in her hands and took the opportunity to rub it on the kid’s face. “Ahh, feeelll the money, Luz! Luxuriate it!” She teased. 
“No, no, Eda! Ahh!” As expected, Luz protested and squirmed against the touch, but she was starting to laugh, which is what Eda wanted. 
Eda smirked, taking hold of the kid’s hands as she tried and failed to get away. “What? Don’t like to luxuriate? There’s a whole pile of luxury right here!” Then she grabbed Luz’s arms and swiftly tossed her into the pile, earning a yelp from the girl. “Move over!” Eda said, following suit and landing face down.
“Edaa!” Luz protested, but she broke out into laughter with Eda. It filled the witch with much joy to see Luz laughing and smiling again. She deserved it after the rough day they just had.
With that being said, after a minute, Eda got up and decided it was finally time to head home. Maintaining her balance, she reached her hands out to Luz and hoisted her up, keeping a tight grip on her so she wouldn’t fall. 
Thankfully, the Golden Guard didn’t obliterate her boat, so they had a way back home. Eda used an extra sack she had to bag the Selkie gris so they could take it home. It was significantly lighter than the snails. They would have to make a trip the night market to trade it off soon. Something had finally gone right today!
“You ready to go home?” Eda asked, turning to Luz, who was settled behind her with King on her shoulder. 
“Aye-aye, captain!” Luz said, saluting. 
That’s the Luz I know and love, Eda thought. “Alrighty then, brace yourself!” and she, King and Luz started their way back home.
~
It was seven in the evening, and the trio had made it home. After Lilith had presented her scrying potion, Eda had gone off to order their takeout, leaving Luz alone with her thoughts in the hallway.
...Something Luz really didn’t like doing. 
A lot had happened all in one night, from her and Eda getting ambushed by the Golden Guard, to her being forced to go slay the Selkidomus (knowing she was about to take away a baby’s mother back there made it worse to think about), to Eda talking her out of it. 
In all honesty, Luz felt like she needed to hear those words. Eda was right. She had done so much to help her, and she did seem happier whenever Luz was around. Maybe she wasn’t a burden after all…
She was snapped out of her thoughts when the witch in question came back around the corner. 
“Well, I’m tired. How about you, kid?” She said, yawning. 
“Hungry.” Luz said simply. 
“Don’t worry, food should be here in about a half hour.” Eda replied, ruffling Luz’s hair. Then she noticed a familiar look on her face. “You okay, kid?”
Luz shook herself out of her thoughts. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Eda put a hand on her shoulder. “I know that look. You’re deep in thought.” Luz looked down at the floor. “Do you wanna talk about it? You know you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” The witch knew it would only make it worse for the girl to keep things inside. And after what happened in the cave, she wanted to know how it got this bad.
Luz supposes it wouldn’t hurt. She trusted Eda. “Okay…” she gave a small nod. 
Eda slung an arm around her shoulders. ‘’C’mon, walk with me.” and the two walked slowly down the hallway. 
“A lot just happened tonight.”
“That’s for sure.” Eda agreed. “I- you really scared me back there, you know?” she said, hand tightening on Luz’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.” Luz answered. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Eda. She supposes she doesn’t always consider that endangering herself contributes to that. “I just...wanted to make things right.”
They stopped walking as Eda turned to her. “You don’t owe me anything, Luz. You know that, right?” She said, meeting the girl’s eyes.
“But-”
“No buts. I promise I’m not angry, kiddo, I just hate seeing you like this.” She sighs. “I wish you would’ve told me before things got this far.” Noticing Luz starting to sag, she guides them to sit against the wall so they can talk more comfortably.
“I promise I’m not angry.” Eda repeats softly. “You're just a kid, you really shouldn't have to carry shit like this…”
Luz takes a breath and continues to speak. “I hated seeing you and Lilith have such a hard time with money. And most of the money that we did have was spent on me. I-I thought that if I got a big enough bounty, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about me anymore, and I wouldn’t be such a burden to you.” Luz could feel tears starting to build up. “But I guess I messed that up.”
“Hey.” Eda said, tilting Luz’s wobbling chin up. “Listen to me. Don’t you think like that.” She moved the hand to Luz’s shoulder. “You were never a burden, okay?”
Luz looked at her with teary eyes. “Really?”
“Really. A burden is an unwanted responsibility. But you?” Eda used her thumb to gently wipe away some of Luz’s tears. “I’ll never get tired of you. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. I want to take care of you. You mean so much to me.” 
At this point, Luz is smiling wide with a few stray tears rolling down her face. “Do you really mean that?”
Eda nodded, cupping her cheek. “Of course I do. I told you a week ago that I don’t regret anything. You’re a wonderful kid, Luz. Anyone that calls you otherwise is stupid.” Luz giggles at that. “I’ll pummel anyone that says otherwise.”
Luz hesitantly moves in for a hug, and Eda draws her in easily. “You promise?”
Eda nods, pulling Luz closer. “I promise. It’s okay.” She begins to stroke Luz’s hair a little bit. Then another thought intrudes her mind. Her grip tightens around her kid once more. 
“You really scared me when you jumped down there…” Eda spoke. “I thought I was gonna lose you again.” The memory of Luz falling towards those spikes is never going away anytime soon. The witch felt like her nightmares were coming true. No way in hell does she ever want to go through that again.
Luz nuzzles closer. “I know… I promise I’ll be more careful.” She isn’t sure it’s a promise she can keep, but she’s willing to try. A part of Luz notices that Eda’s becoming more and more casual with touch, but chooses to ignore it.
“Good.” Eda pulled away from the embrace, still holding Luz by her shoulders. “Remember that, okay? I don’t want you talking to yourself like this.” She said, tapping the kid’s head.
“I will.” Before they got up, Luz moved in for one more hug. “I love you, Eda.” Not for the first time, Luz was grateful that Eda made no small effort to just be there for her. She underestimated her.
Eda hugged her back. “I love you too, Luz.”
Then, a knock at the door, and a screech from Hooty.
“Looks like the food’s here! You still hungry, kiddo?” 
“Oh my god, yes.” Luz groaned. 
Eda laughed, stood up, and offered a hand to help Luz up. Unfortunately, the girl stood up too quickly, causing her to stumble a bit.
“Ahhh, head rush, head rush!” Luz murmured. She held onto Eda’s hand.
“You good?” Eda asked with a laugh.
“Yup, yup, I’m good. Just stood up too fast.”
“Wanna race to the kitchen?” Eda offered. “I’ll give you a head start.”
Luz chuckled. “You’re on!”
Yeah, Eda thought, looking fondly at her kid. I still don’t regret anything.
And Luz looked at Eda, seeing her heterochromatic eyes. True, the witch might've lost all her powers, but she didn't lose her love.
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