#again i never follow my own fuckin advice
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your work is all so amazing!! do you have any advice for writers who maybe want to start writing longer fanfictions?
Ahh!! Fhhfkf thank you!!! ;^; I don't know how useful or coherent my advice might be, but here's what's helped me in the past:
1. Know what kind of writer you are. If you work better by starting with a structured outline, do that, but make sure to actually start WRITING the scenes after that lol. If you get more momentum by diving in and just seeing where the story goes, do that, but make sure you have a DIRECTION to go in. A healthy balance of planning and discover-as-you-go is the most fun in my experience. (I usually start by improvising and having fun with a concept and then gradually cornering myself into planning lol. By then, planning isn't a chore; it's just satisfying to see everything fall together.)
2. Don't force an idea to be a long fic if it doesn't need to be. If you feel like your concept would be better served by a short fic, do it justice by not stretching it into a shape it doesn't need.
3. If your concept is bigger and does need a long fic format, make sure you know what threads you're weaving together. Write an actual list of themes, subplots, and character arcs and keep track of them, and figure out how you want to pace them in relation to one another.
4. Have resources prepped! Name banks for minor characters; notes/links to articles on the time period/environment/culture you're writing about; pictures that inspire you; songs that hype you up for your story or the characters... Mostly, if you don't like doing research, START LIKING IT. Find joy in researching the symptoms of hypovolemic shock and the native flora of Northern China. Look up multiple sources for each little topic. (I just keep a messy list of links and notes in the bottom of my docs lol)
5. If you get stuck or bored, revisit the source material. Watching/reading the original story can remind you why you got so excited to write fic about it and refresh your ideas.
6. If you're bored while writing a scene, it's probably boring to read. Don't turn writing into a chore. Think about what needs to happen in a scene and why it matters, find what you care about in it, and follow that. If it starts feeling like you don't need a scene and that you were just using it to fill in time, cut it.
7. My favorite thing: don't be afraid to write out of order. Write little blurbs or pieces of dialogue for chapters way ahead, if you have something in mind! Give yourself a goal to catch up to. It'll help you get the big picture of your whole fic and then fill in the scenes you need to get there.
8. Don't let people tell you what to write!! This goes both ways: if people say "it should've gone like [thing you don't wanna do]," tell them to shush and write their own shit. If they say "it would be so cool if [thing you were already planning] happened," do it anyway! You don't have to change just for the element of surprise. Don't twist the story out of place just because someone guessed your awesome idea. Everyone will be happier for it.
9. Don't settle for your first draft if it doesn't feel right. If you're working on a scene and it doesn't fulfill what you need, restart it from as many angles as necessary until you're happy. Seriously, building off a scene you don't like will make you feel dissatisfied and poison everything to follow.
10. Talk about your fic with people who hype you up about it. If you're not used to writing long stories, do what you need to keep you motivated and EXCITED about it. If asking someone to beta read helps you, do it! (I almost never ask for beta readers bc I'm a control freak, but honestly they can be so helpful.)
11. The forbidden tip: if you lose interest halfway through, it's okay to drop it. Do what makes you happy. You don't owe anyone anything and you're doing this for free. Try to finish it though lol, it's so satisfying to see a work complete. Do it for the dopamine at the end.
Disclaimer: I write long fics 1) because I like to soak in them and savor them and 2) because I don't know how to shut up and write short ones lol. I deeply admire people with the skill to just say what they need to say and wrap up a story neatly.
Also, I don't follow my own advice. Plenty of my scenes have fluff that I could have cut but didn't because Mark Twain is dead and can't tell me what to do lmao
I hope this had something helpful in it 😅 Good luck! 💖💖💖
#anonymous#my writing#oh look it talks#sorry for the long post i didnt have time to write a short one#it takes more work to say something with brevity#honestly yeah tip 12 if theres a shorter way to say something then do that instead#again i never follow my own fuckin advice
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More Moiraine & Lan (and the Bond) thoughts, because I really just can’t help myself.
Just thinking about how we know every Aes Sedai and Warder share the Bond, but we don’t see any other AS/Warder teams using it as a form of communication NEARLY as much as Moiraine and Lan do.
Like these mofos are having full conversations with head tilts and tiny eyebrow raises and 3 seconds of eye contact from the jump. Sometimes not even looking at each other. And it’s extra great if you’re a show only like me because you only realize it when you go back later after all the stuff with the Bond is explained in 1x04/1x05. Like I remember thinking when I was first watching the pilot ‘wow, these two are really in sync, clearly they’ve known each other a long time,’ but it’s so much more than that obviously.
Now, one easy explanation for this is that we’re just seeing them the most, they’re main characters, and s1 especially does a lot of work hyping up the Bond and how important it is so that we get the full impact of them being cut off later. Makes sense.
But… idk like even Alanna and Ihvon and Maksim, who are actually in a romantic relationship, don’t seem to prefer the Bond as a way to communicate. We even see them have their little diplomatic discussion before Ihvon goes to follow Tomas. It’s an actual conversation. Maksim even prefers the Bond masked, so I guess in that way they kind of have to talk to each other.
Verin and Tomas are pretty quiet in general, but still it’s not emphasized that they use the Bond to communicate that much. Perhaps this is also highlighted by Tomas’s advice to Lan that the Bond isn’t the only common language they share with their Aes Sedai.
Except for Moiraine and Lan, it’s like AT LEAST 80%. It’s the primary way they communicate. Because 1. they’re both so naturally reserved on the outside (but feel very deeply on the inside), and 2. I imagine it comes in handy to be extra good at it when you’re on the road searching for the Dragon Reborn and you don’t want everyone around you to know what you’re about.
Then there’s Stepin’s comment from s1 to Kerene, “Can you imagine their dinners?” Which is funny but also very telling. To all the other Aes Sedai and Warders, Moiraine and Lan seem pretty cold and distant, to everyone else and each other. But again, that’s by design to protect their mission. They’re just having conversations no one else can see, even other Bonded pairs. It’s like most AS and their Warders use the Bond as insurance, a fail safe even, to understand and communicate with each other, with normal human communication (i.e. TALKING) as the primary method. But for Moiraine and Lan it’s the other way around.
My POINT BEING, that this adds weight to their storyline in S2. Like they are REALLY struggling because on top of everything else, this fundamental piece of their relationship and communication is just gone. And it opens a door for Moiraine to push Lan away, when she NEVER would have been able to before, practically or emotionally. And he reels from her attacks because he’s just not as good at understanding her without the Bond, when he would have seen right through that shit before, just from feeling alone. So Tomas can say to him, you need to really listen, but 20 years of shared emotional mind reading is not that easy to bypass. You don’t learn normal person communication skills overnight. Certainly not when there’s this gaping hole in your head/heart where another person you probably knew better than yourself should be but isn’t.
Anyway, I think it just adds even more credence to why they’re both so lost throughout most of S2, especially Lan. And what makes them so badass with the Bond but so absolutely uncoordinated without it. And why every other Aes Sedai/Warder thinks they’re fuckin weird. And why we love them, because who doesn’t want to be so fundamentally understood like that? Who doesn’t want their own secret language with someone that no one else really gets, but that person gets you on a level so real it can’t be replaced? That’s what we’re all reaching for, and that’s what they have with each other. For better or worse.
#other aes sedai and warders: talking 80% / Bond 20%#Moiraine and Lan: Bond 80% / body language 15% / talking 5%#so extra#but I imagined it just happened for them#it wasn’t intentional#but then they got too used to it and couldn’t stop#and they never thought they’d have to#and then they finally get it back and it’s like they become whole people again#like you can see what a missing limb it was once they’re finally back on their game#jfc these two#wheel of time#the wheel of time#moiraine damodred#lan mandragoran#wot on prime#wot
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Le sign... speaking of the server,
dirk is encouraging me to be more firm on my own thoughts for my comfort
i've seen ppl talk about it in stream a lil which im always like I Don't Care when it pops up but i've had Enough and i want to talk about the topic bc it's itching at my brain follicles.
since we're pretty strider-oriented, this had to happen at some point: strider cest/strilonde cest/in cest wont be allowed in the main server. if other people don't care, i might make a separate server.
-"hey why is that ^ something you would allow? pretty insane." / "are you a pro shipper then??"
no
"so you're an anti?"
also no
i dislike this argument as a whole bc i don't 'get it' i guess because im audhd. neither side is fully correct nor fully wrong.
"fiction affects reality." and "fiction is not reality." are two different thought processes that can and should coexist in the same space.
look. fiction can affect reality, but it IS also possible to separate from it. you can para or whatever responsibly. tag it. try to make sure people who don't want to see it don't have to see it. and if minors are getting sent your shit, make sure its clear that this should NOT be happening in reality.
if you're a child, keep that shit blocked. it's NOT for you and you should not be actively consuming it. (please listen to this advice bc i grew up on the internet barely supervised, from a very unhealthily early age [7-8] and then developed into a fucked up hypersexual.)
(seeing something fucked up and being like AUGH my eyes! is normal because that just. happens. thats life. you deal with it afterwards in some way. talking to someone you trust etc. you do not go back for more i am begging.)
(if someone is showing you these things on purpose then please read this website all the way through for me ok?)
you should not be looking at an adult exploring/enjoying fucked up shit
videogames are not going to make you or me more violent by having violence, gore, and murder in them.
but videogames DO make some people violent. those people should not have access to these things. but we (you and i) cannot control that beyond making sure content is labelled and set aside.
i like playing games where i assassinate people. i am not an assassin. someone could play the same game and get terrible ideas they act on. this is not my fault for playing the game.
and, if you're an adult who likes fucked up shit (me too) tag your shit or have it listed somewhere on your about that it's something you post about frequently there. and maybe reiterate that it's not real. its just toys. and should never be followed irl.
yeah, it fuckin sucks that we gotta do this shit, but kids are unfortunately on the internet, with the inability to differentiate grey from black and white. your shit might be the first exposure. which sucks!!
so it's our responsibility to try and mitigate harm on both sides unfortunately until we can convince parents to start parenting their children again. which sucks. i just wanna post shit in peace but the buzzing around from very loud teenagers makes me anxious. i get it.
it fucking sucks!!! but we can't control other people, especially if theyre malicious
but you control what YOU see on the internet. block anyone. (i blocked someone back in the day for disliking johndave. be free.)
and help people do that (control what they see) by making it very clear.
you aren't evil for not wanting to see it, and other people aren't evil for enjoying fucked up content.
also some of yall on BOTH SIDES do some truly vile shit in the name of this argument when your energy could be spent elsewhere doing shit you like or even doing things that are actually. Helpful.
so i don't like either label i dont want to be associated with either of the sides but if you want to call me one or the other then . Whatever i guess? thats your business, not mine.
just know you are not a failure or a freak for not constantly reinforcing and reassuring everyone that you think adults doing their own thing in fictional spaces with little toy dolls (that theyve been doing since the 70s-80s) is gross. you can just think that like. in general and look away because the dolls are dolls.
but don't go posting doll horn-knees untagged. that's rude as fuck.
#community infighting is NOT the way. everyone thinks we're ALL fucking weird. just IGNORE each other#timaeus posting#mumbling#dirk is holding me at gun point to post this because he's Tired tm
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I think I’m going to pass Izzy around the crew to cope lol. This started off as o/uizzy but I realized Frenchie/Roach is soooo 🥺☺️💞 so here’s a thing about Frenchie and Roach making Izzy something (🥣) for his nausea and a cold. Emeto mention but nothing serious.
Izzy shivered violently and two warm hands came up and adjusted a blanket around his shoulders. He heaved a deep sigh from the depths of his gut but before he could get the breath out he was sucking it back in, chest heaving with a wheeze.
“Hhh…h’aiSHH-uH—huh- aiSHUU!”
The force hurt his stomach and he grimaced feeling the pressure in his head from being stuffed up. He sniffled wetly, absolving the use of a tissue.
“Hey quit that,” Roach warned. “You’re just sniffing the drainage into your stomach to prepare for a reappearance. And believe me, no one wants that. Just my medical observation.”
Izzy wanted to protest, but he knew that Roach was right. He was feeling more nauseous by the second and he could no longer blame it solely on the sea. A hazy look crossed over his eyes before he geared up for his second chance at using the tissue.
“hhRESCH-shuu! ESHHhue!”
Roach began to hold the tissue to Izzy’s face but Izzy snatched it out of his hands taking his advice. He gurgled a blow that ended into two coughs, crumpled up the tissue and threw it on the floor. Roach nodded in defeat. “Okay.”
When the Sun began to set, a couple of the Pirates gathered on the mast to futz around and Izzy couldn’t bring himself to join them. Instead he was folded over the side of the ship gripping the edge with all of his might. His stomach bobbed with the need to empty itself. But for the most part he hovered in between gagging and spitting small loogies into the water. He was still sweaty even with the cool night air on his back and he groaned, nose buzzing with the chill.
It was dark, the only light emanating from the top of the mast and from within the captain's quarters. Izzy heard footsteps approaching but was much too occupied with his itchy nose to address them. Frenchie sidled up next to him slowly leaning over to try to look at his face. Izzy steered straight ahead, avoiding eye contact at all costs so Frenchie followed his gaze to the sea.
“Um…what are we looking at here exactly?”
Izzy‘s hands traveled up his crossed arms to his shoulders. Frenchy heard him sniffle loud and thick. He coughed profusely trying to cover the congestion up. Frenchie opened his mouth again but Izzy held up a gloved hand.
“Can’t you just ‘be’ with the ocean a bit? You effervescent sing songy twat.”
Sure a bit of hostility wasn’t unexpected from Izzy, but Frenchie did feel this was a bit unwarranted. He swallowed nervously but pressed on, noticing the little tremor that held Izzy’s body.
“Yeah, ’spose I could. Never been much for parties.”
This got Izzy’s attention. He turned to look at him and at the same time, his nose itched for a need.
“Arehhh-‘nt you th-hih!…the fuckin’ bard?”
Frenchie stilled, caught in a lie and watched as Izzy winked an eye, stiffening his face to obviously stave off an upcoming sneeze. He fumbled around his chest, looking for his handkerchief. Frenchie clocked this, pulling out his own, a quarter with a patch he’d sewn onto it. Izzy accepted it and clasped it against his face. Frenchie watched his eyelids fall and eyebrows raise.
“Huh’ESSHuh! H-hhei-ish! hEHt’chzhuu!!”
He pulled away from the handkerchief, looking quite dazed. Frenchie held out his arms, steadying him on his feet.
“That I am,” he said, answering the question. “Doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break.”
Frenchies' warm hands contrasted starkly to the cool night air, which felt more like a nippy chill to Izzy. He shivered and bit the inside of his cheek, trying to calm the hammering of his heart. The hands left him for an agonizing moment before one found itself on his back, steering him away from the edge of the ship.
“And the bard says you ought to have a bit of a lie down.”
Izzy pulled away, embarrassed by the subtle attention. “Fuck you I don’t care what the bard says. When you’re granted first mate you fuckin’ act like it.”
Izzy’s words rang in the air, a cruel reminder of how replaceable he was. He looked like he wanted to add something, but doubled over in a cough that sounded like it wanted to bring something else to the surface. Frenchie moved to help him, but Izzy stumbled away.
“Izzy, I hadn’t meant—“
But Izzy wasn't listening, going to curl up on himself in a corner again. Laughter rang in the background from the mast. Frenchie watched defeated.
Later that night, Frenchie sat sullenly at the counter, away from the other crew. He stuck his finger in his sauce, swirling it around aimlessly. When Roach had finished serving the last of the crewmembers, he reappeared behind the counter, throwing a towel over his shoulder and placing his hands on his hips.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Frenchie pressed his lips, looking over his shoulder. He turned back and leaned in.
“It’s Iz. He’s running himself ragged.”
Roach raised an eyebrow, reaching for a knife to sharpen. “And that’s your fault?”
“Well, no. Don’t think so, at least. But I suppose I’d like to do something about it.”
Roach sighed, shaking his head. “Frenchie, you beautiful man you, with your heart of gold. Some of us are lost causes.” His sharpening slowed. “I tried with him already.”
Frenchie shrugged. “No yeah I know that. Just think maybe there’s more we could do… something else. Maybe a dabble in the languages of love Pete was on about. I dunno.”
Roach nodded in agreement, but he wasn’t totally sure what he meant. He looked around his kitchen for inspiration. As hardcore as Izzy was, he bet he would seldom find comfort among knives and sharp kitchen tools. Roach admired Frenchie’s gumption though and continued to search until his eyes fell on the big soup pot in the corner. A recipe brewed in his mind and he turned back to Frenchie who’s eyes lit up with the same connection.
“Sounds kinda lovely, don’t you think?”
Roach beamed. “I know what we’re going to do today, matey.”
Later that day, Roach and Frenchie traipsed around the ship searching for Izzy. In the end they didn’t have to look very far and found him huddled on the bow, shaking miserably. He sneezed harshly into a clenched fist and gave into a barking coughing fit, before turning at the sound of footsteps. Frenchie caught the greenish tint to his face.
“Ah how are we faring now?,” Roach said cheerily. Izzy sighed with a wheeze, crossing his arms on himself.
“What’s left of my stomach now belongs to the trenches. Was that the update you were hoping for?”
Frenchie looked at Roach. “We were hoping, actually, again, to get you to retire to your chambers. Could be nice don’t you think?”
Izzy rolled his eyes. “Could be. If there wasn’t so much work to do. Leave me be; I’m still on watch.”
Frenchie nodded, having expected this response. He pulled Roach closer with him. “That’s fine. We just thought you’d like to have a taste of this here soup. I’ve a cup here but there’s a whole tray set up on your bed. S’ easy on the tums.”
Izzy blinked the stars away, taking in the scene before him. The two of them presented a large steaming pot, with chunks of light meat and vegetables, swimming in a swirling broth. The mentioned bowl was offered to him. He accepted it quietly when his stomach clenched in a hungry pain.
Frenchie smiled softly before lowering the pot to the ground and ladling a shallow spoonful. When the bowl filled, the warmth reached Izzy’s fingertips and he was surprised to find the steam melt away some of the soreness in his breath. He lifted the bowl to his lips, obscuring the blush rising to his cheeks from the other men, though he supposed he could just blame it on the illness or the heat if it called for it. The broth ran down his throat, soothing his aching chest and he could hardly wait until it reached his pained stomach. His brows knit together, trying to keep the bubbling emotions at bay.
“It’s…” he choked at the tail end of a mouthful. “It’s fine.” His hand hovered over his stomach. “It’s pleasant.”
Frenchie beamed, soaking in Izzy’s gratitude while Roach smiled fondly at Frenchie. He almost forgot why they were standing there until Izzy spoke up again.
“I think I’ll pop down and have a look at it myself.” He murmured. Frenchie could swear he looked just a tad more sleepy. “Evening, boys. I trust you’ll keep a lookout.”
Frenchie and Roach watched as Izzy slinked away and then disappeared into the brig. When they were sure he was gone they clasped their hands together and fell onto the deck in a fit of giggles.
“Yes!” Roach hissed. “We did it!”
Frenchie laughed, scrambling into a sitting up position. They backed up to lean against the wall, but Frenchie didn’t miss how the two of them still had one hand linked together. He swallowed against the night air.
“How’d I do?”
Roaches laughter died down and he smiled at Frenchie with twinkling eyes. “You were fantastic. I haven’t seen ambition like that since the last plundering. You are a vision.”
Roche scooted ever so closer to Frenchie and leaned over placing a tender kiss to his cheek. Frenchie felt his face warm up and chuckled bashfully, facing Roach but avoiding his eyes.
“What was that for?”
Roach sighed, pressing his curls up against the wall with an upwards tilt of his head. He pulled Frenchie’s hand to his chest.
“You’re being promoted. To sous chef.” A pause, and then he added a little quieter, “if you’ll have me.”
Frenchies chest warmed up in a similar nature to Izzy’s stomach when he had had the soup. He squeezed Roach’s fingers gently.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
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hi this is a lot im sorry. i love to say words and dump shit that upsets me with no real correlation. my bad /gen (genuine) (idk if you know tone indicators im sorry ough)
you dont really Have to cook up a proper response to this i just need to put it somewhere where i wont immediately get piles of advice that i cant use. i know its well-meaning but ultimately the whole situation is ou of anyones control
(also putting this 🎪 here so i can try to find it later)
im stuck in a sisyphean nightmare of a weekly cycle: i have a good day -> my mood skyrockets -> i have a bad day -> my mood plummets -> rinse and repeat. at this point i think it might be a mental condition bc something doesnt even really have to Ruin My Day, i just have to face a minor inconvenience and then suddenly im all doom-and-gloom depression for 3-5 business days before springing back up as if nothing ever happened to do it all again. my mom says i might have bpd or bipolar disorder (i always get the two confused) because she has it and we just havent seen anyone about it, mostly because we dont have the money to see any doctors most of the time. i also kinda dont wanna have either of them? not in like an asshole way but in a these-people-face-stigma-that-i-dont-know-if-i-can-emotionally-handle way. in a im already queer and fat and poor and disabled in multipled ways and overall unsavory to neurotypicals/cishets/Default Settings way. yknow
todays inciting incident was a shitty shitty halloween carnival that didnt even have the thing i was excited for, didnt have any food, had lines that were miles long (hyperbole), was too hot, and i only got 8 shitty halloween things from -- half of which were lollipops, with half of those just being the same 2 flavors but Again. we stayed for 2 hours before my mom decided she didnt wanna be out of the house anymore as usual. i cant be too mad at her because shes mentally ill in the direction of "i dont want to go anywhere because my anxiety will spike" but unfortunately im mentally ill in the direction of "if i cannot leave the house to Do Things at my own pace at least once a week i will fall into a deep depression" so we clash pretty bad most of the time. this was also following multiple minor inconveniences mind you. and was also trailed by multiple minor inconveniences. it just has not gone well. this halloween is just shaping up to suck bc i was supposed to have a whole party but we had money issues so it had to be cut down to just 2 people for a sleepover, then one of them went out to see his grandma in another state and the other is apparently in the fucking hospital right now??? at least according to his posts. and i cant blame them for these either! schedules conflict and sometimes you go to the Fuckig Hosital. its out of anyones control but it still feels like shit. so its looking like my only shot at having any fun this halloween is the trunk-or-treat at my school and idk if im even allowed to go bc i had to drop out for mental health reasons and they told me i wasnt allowed on school grounds anymore. idk if that applies here. which btw. way to make a depressed kid feel worse. you can NEVER come to this high school again or we'll ARREST YOU. fuckin bullshit. BUT thats off topic the synopsis is that this halloween sucks so far and i dont really expect it to get better which extra sucks bc im turning 18 next year and i dont wanna let this be the last hurrah for my number one favorite holiday. i cant host fucking parties for my friends after then. im gonna be busy trying to fuck off to the other end of the country. i wont have TIME for it. idk. it sucks. this sucks. fuck art and fuck you /ref (reference) /nbh (nobody here)
Ik you don't want advice for this so I'll just put it on the blog.
And idk if you want it but here's a tea
☕
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I say this as someone who's followed you for years and with as much kindness as possible:
Get the fuck away from your mother. Ditch her fuckin ass. She's repeatedly making things worse and refuses to learn. You need to get away from her, for your own good.
I know I might be repeating what other people have said, or even what you have thought of doing, but holy shit this bitch is actively ruining your life through sheer stupidity.
I hope things get better
I feel bad that people have to keep giving me this kind of advice because I realize it's the most obvious answer, and there are multiple reasons separating from my mother would be good for us both. I feel bad that i keep sharing all these worrying stories and worrying people and then at the end of the day, I'm way too scared to actually try and fix things. I just worry so much about not being able to take care of myself, not being able to drive, what if I go somewhere and it's harder if not impossible for me to get to work, just. I worry about everything. Honestly the thing that worries me the most is keeping my job or not being able to transfer if I went somewhere else. My wage is currently $19 an hour, my 58 yo mom was making $22, so like, I'm helping hold it all together with rent BECAUSE of that income. I'm so scared of losing that.
I've had people ask if there's any family I can go to and the only possible option would be maybe my father who is in another state, I cannot remember if it is in Illinois or Missouri (ugh, they may have passed recreational weed but thats the only good thing thats came outta thar state in like the last 2 decades). And I don't know if that would be good either. But it's an option I'm beginning to consider. But I am sort of still in the reconnecting process with my dad and we've butted heads a few times and he also has his own physical and emotional issues. Actually I think he is where I inherited a lot of mental illness from because he also has an anxiety disorder and we are almost positive he has equinus like me. He also has developed type 2 diabetes and I am really bad with sugar impulse control, what if I hurt my dad because I can't stop bringing sweets into the house and he eats them too 🥺
It just. Personally makes me hate myself to even think of "hiya pops, we've barely spoken in the last 10 years, I've been really ahitty about talking to you consistently since we've said hi again and lost my temper with you a few times, hey I know you're on a fixed income and out of a job right now (or was, maybe he has one now, we've spoken so little idk) but is it OK if I come live in your house as a whiny codependent barely functioning weed addict of an adult?" 😅
But yeah I just. This is really. It just never ends. I keep fighting myself and beating myself up on "who's right, am I right, am I wrong, am I overreacting, whats going on, what do I do, someone tell me what to do because I'm too stupid to do things right" and it's just. I also still love my mother even if that love is being increasingly mixed with resentment. I worry about her ability to take care of herself because her health is getting worse and, like, I worry about her mentally a lot. Like this tooth infection she has, is because she doesn't have the best dental hygiene, and had fillings and such, and even after needing fillings still takes shit care of her teeth, and was putting off getting like broken teeth and such taken care of, and, they're now having to pull SEVEN of her back teeth. She'll need dentures to eat certain foods now. And I'm not better, I basically stopped brushing my teeth for many years because I literally expected to be dead before they rotted out of my mouth and now I'm scrambling to adopt that routine again, and also like.
Sorry but my mom and a dentist literally lied to me when i was a little girl and said i had several cavities because they thought i would be scared into brushing my teeth and all that did was convince me everything was pointless and needed to give up since it was already damaged, and she refuses to apologize or even acknowledge how that literally helped me develop a complex and felt helpless when SHE LIED TO ME, A CHILD, HER CHILD (and also i think my difficulty keeping routines is a combination just needing to apply myself and having adhd issue because like, I've been pretty good with my skincare at least)
I just. I love her but I hate her. If I'm not careful to keep myself calm I'm going to escalate to the physical level. And to be honest I've had the opinion for many years that, all those times my mom told extremely age inappropriate stories to little tiny baby Miranda about her experiences with assault and domestic violence, even as a kid I would think, "well you like don't listen, you shut people down, you insist youre always right, I want to hit you all the time too, maybe it wasn't them but maybe you got yourself hit by constantly pushing everyone around you to their breaking point" like clearly that's not a healthy thought to have and I. I am kind of convinced at this point that almost every single bad thing that had ever happened to this woman was her own fault in some way shape or form. But you could also say that about me
What's scary is that I can't even think of going anywhere without having savings first and I'm constantly being pushed to my limits to the point I don't HAVE any savings, it's all getting sucked up. I dunno how else I can get out of this pit and I'm just, mentally worn down from any entire life of this. I feel useless and exploited at home and then I go to work and feel useless and exploited at work and by society. Like. Life feels so bleak. My Canadian friend is getting in worse health. I still have a lot of affection for him but he's also uh done and said a few things I really disagree with on personal levels and it, gives me some pause, like. I genuinely am so sad all the time. I need to go back to the psychiatrist to get some medicines again but, I am working and making enough money that after my state insurance expires in October, I'll have to go through my work, and that doesn't 100% cover everything so, j wouldn't be able to afford anything at that point
Just. Ugh. I try to write down my thoughts and listen to music and try to write on my other blog to cheer myself up but I just. What can you do right. What am I good for. What is anyone good for. What is this world itself good for. Our entire species is gonna go extinct with climate change anyways. Why should I keep struggling and suffering like this when it's. Idk. Arguably all for nothing. We'll all be nothing more than just dogs following commands and paying bills until we die
#im just very. im on autopilot. i cant think about hurting myself because the desire is there#and i dont want to think about it to the point i do it#i just keep trying to redirect my thoughts and distract myself#but this sucks. everything sucks. my country sucks. my species sucks. my planet sucks. my skin. my hair. my body. my voice. my age#my arms my legs my eyes my ears my heart my soul my hopes my dreams it all fucking sucks#i just have to keep drinking or smoking and playing phone games until the bad thoughts go away
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Honestly after I sent that ask I went to go sit down and draw horny stuff to get it out of my brain 😭 I can't edge for very long either but I might try no touch... and hypno! I've never properly tried it, so I'll definitely be giving your recommendations a listen. You may be stuck in denial Creature, but you seem to be corrupting me further <33
Speaking of corruption, I've never actually been teased before like I was in your message and it instantly made my brain feel all fuzzy 😖 I had to take a minute to remember what I was doing-
Awww you're so sweet! I paint more than draw, but I've definitely made a couple horny paintings in my day. I'd love to see if you're open to showing, otherwise I hope it helped! It's always a bit of fun for me even if I haven't done horny painting in a while, maybe I should again soon sometime!
In terms of corruption, if a little teasing and suggestion is all it takes to get you this far, I'd say you were pretty corrupted already! That isn't to say I'm not eagerly waiting to make it worse, though! Hypnosis is a fuckin blast, my only advice for your first trance is don't *try* to fall into trance. Get out of your own way and treat it like horny meditation, just chill out and listen and follow. Your brain will get trained over time, and trying to force it to do anything only distracts you and stresses you out. Additionally, if you find you enjoy it, it is essential to look into hypnotic safeties! Miss Lilith has one on her site that's pretty good, but there are plenty around!
Lastly, I'm overjoyed that you liked my teasing, that I got you a little fuzzy. Though I may be a sub, I'm also an incorrigible tease with a way with words if I have the motivation to be, and you're certainly motivating me. If you need more, don't hesitate to pop into my messages, I'm always happy to make you feel all needy and brainless. Maybe you could make me needy and brainless too! That sounds like a fair trade, don't you think? <3
Thank you for the lovely response, and I hope you have a wonderful (and hopefully horny) night :^)
-your Creature
#Creature responds#softmumblings#Creature softmumblings denial buddies saga continues#yesyesyes more hypnokink converts#TRANCE SAFELY THO im begging#all else fails ill just tease you until you dont care whether youre in trance or not ;^)
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Your art is so fuckin good and I lose my mind every time I see it! You pretty much top the list of artists I want to commission one I have digital money again. Do you have any art advice you'd wanna give a fellow (though less experienced) furry artist?
OMGGGG THANK YOU!!! :D that means so much, i'm glad my art can have so much of an influence on you! that seriously makes me so happy 😭 i'm honored to be one of your favorites!!!
as for art advice.... i feel like im not qualified to give Good advice since im pretty much completely self-taught, but also maybe that makes the advice better? idk ive been "serious" about art and doing commissions since 2017 so i have quite a bit of experience but i still feel like a beginner gdhkgjldsgdskg but anyways here's my own personal things ive learned over the years
absorb as much art as you possibly can. art of all mediums. tv shows, movies, music, visual art, animations, books, comics, ect ect ect EVEN bad art! i am a huge believer of the idea that both bad art and good art is extremely important to you as an artist because not only does the bad art show you what Not to do, but sometimes bad art has GREAT ideas that you wouldve never thought of before. whether they're just executed poorly or the ideas arent touched upon as in depth as you'd like.
i'm giving you permission to steal ideas right now PLEASE steal ideas from all the stuff you love and put your own personal spin on them i'm BEGGING you!!!! just don't claim other people's art as your own and you're golden
if you want to open commissions but you don't think you're "good enough", open them anyway. i swear it will do nothing but help you improve and give you experience for the future. i started out by drawing things for $10 a pop and it did SO MUCH for my improvement, i'm always drawing stuff that i wouldve never drawn otherwise and it's helped me a ton with my own personal art too.
the variety of the prompts you'll get will be intimidating Because it'll be stuff you don't typically draw, but you'll feel such a sense of accomplishment by the end Because it's a challenge.
all this being said, don't let people take advantage of you. stand your ground and don't be afraid to refund/deny a commission request because you're excited to get paid. for every client who's a dick to you there's like five clients who will gladly respect you and pay you what you deserve irt your skill and quality. i Promise
DRAW WHAT YOU LIKE TO DRAW!!!! Don't draw what you think other people want to see! at the end of the day, it's YOUR art, and you should be building a gallery full of things that make YOU happy and Spark Joy when you create, regardless of how "niche" the subjects may be. i'm in the process of unlearning this myself, but the best thing that you can do for yourself as an artist is be self indulgent and cater to Yourself above anyone else.
if you only draw stuff to pull in followers/commission clients/ect you'll end up getting burnt out EXTREMELY easily and start to resent your art. the best thing to do is to slowly acquire the community that cares the most about your art, and you as an artist. that way you'll feel better about your craft and you'll be able to REALLY feel the love. the people who look at your art can absolutely tell when you're passionate about a piece vs when you're just doing it for attention/money/ect.
that's why people who claim they're going to "stoop low and draw furry porn for money" never get anywhere unless theyre TRULY passionate about the craft, because people can TELL when their heart isnt in it
TL;DR draw whatever you wanna draw, be open to try new things, and take in as much art as you can and be open to new life experiences so you can stay inspired even when you're not making art. i hope this is helpful!! i feel like im kinda rambling about my own learning experience haha
#a-german-with-the-gay#ily#recently i went to the art museum in my city for the first time and they had an exhibit on maurice sendak going on#and it was SOOOOOOOOOOO fucking cool i still cant stop thinking about it. i took like a hundred pictures#i go back and look at them a lot bc his art has always been a huge inspiration to me even as a child so it was amazing to witness irl#and not just in the few picture books i knew of as a kid
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So my day started out well i started with self love affirmations which ive been doing for the past 2 days starting off with a spiritual bath and i must admit it has mad quite a difference im excited to see how this will help me i didnt realise how much i truly needed self love i honestly thought i was such a confident person but im starting to realize how harsh iand negative i can be and im starting to see exactly why all these bitches are jealous of me especially the ones that i work with ive never really had a hard time with making friends but ever since me & T broke but damn did it do a number on me.. Getting cheated the first time was just traumatic & left me with anxiety but having such a strong support system and going to the gym almost like everday and letting it out really helped but this break up just left me completely distraught and just made me not want to live life anymore and isolate myself & i didnt realize how it was affecting all my relationships with my friends my family and co workers like damn this narcissistic gas lighting bitch sucked my fucking soul like end all be all and not a single person there to pick up my pieces my like damn had to get myself out of this shit and i feel powerful as fuck never will i let anyone tear me down like that again LESSON LEARNT: Never settle for less. Took 2 years of my life to realize that but hey it coulda been worse.. still trying to see the positivity in this lol coulda gotten married to this bitch ass but thank god he really had to take me off this path this person refused to understand me & the lesson i learnt was that im not for everybody i am simply a Diving Feminine and we aint for everybody if people dont get u then dont waste your time arguing or explaining yourself cause the right people to get you like how did i become so lost and desperate? i just really wanted him to see me for me i just really wanted to make my family happy .. & he wanted to make his the only difference was im not what his family wanted and u know what thats their loss because as soon as i came out i was told i was going to be a motherfuckin champion it truly is his loss lol he fucked up big time and his family is a peice of shit if they really loved him they would want him to be happy but i guess whats what he deserves OH WELL now i see why they dont want the best for him he deserves exactly that shit even the lord dont want the best for him but me i am truly blessed and protected so thank you Jesus!
Going thru that experience really left me feeling emptier then even it felt like people could also see right thru me it left my fuckin boundaries all over the place i allowed people to step all over me cause i constantly thought i was the problem but now im starting to see i was never the problem its this cruel ass world no matter how nice u are to people or how much u just want to help them because u truly see what the can become and u see their potential it doesnt mean that their going to follow that exact path that u want for them it means giving up control letting people have their own experiences and im just trying to be comfortable with that like hey you wanna go fuck up your life go ahead like who am i to control u not like i got super powers cause if i did bruh. People are wylin & then godforbid i wanna do something for myself then they got a problem like what? are yall on. For example Victoria shes so far up my ass but yet cant even be there for me when i need her like bitch step aside and all day at work today she was so sad like what are u sad for... what happend to that advice that u give everytime "Dont Care" like lets see u do that now you dumbass u look fuckin stupid i have completely lost my respect for her like she looks for pathetic how dare she tell me not to care when i share my feelings with her like hows that going for you? keep ur bitch ass advice to yourself the only reason i ever listened to her was cause i actually respected her i thought she was someone i wanted to be like fuck no! i am so much better then her im better then any of these people how dare they show my any fuckin attitude ever like put some motherfuckin respect on my name or get the fuck out of my face and my energy aura cause i aint for everybody you wanna be around me? show some fuckin respect or get the fuck out because i value myself and my opinions and i can find people who do do i dont need you bitch ass people clearly YOU NEED ME like these people need to realise they need me at the end of the day so show respect or get the fuck out. Even will came in with some wack ass attitude but the second i refused to acknowledge him this nigga really started sucking my dick like are you for real why do i need to be rude like is that what turns you people on like is this why im working in this type of environment to learn that i just need to stay away from people who dont respect my energy why because you people cant do the work and become great like me??? ive done the work ive done the time ive earned to be where the fuck i am and if maybe yall put in the work you guys would be on my level but u aint thats why you bitches are so fuckin miserable and just focused on me unfortunatly thats what comes with the fame and i aint leveling down for no fucking body i came a long fuckin way and i deserve this shit put my crown on again & im knock it off * & this bitch shan like i thought she was the nicest girl ever bitch HAD the audacity to show me attitude like girl do u know who ur dealing with ur 20 nothing its actually cute and laughable because she looks like that character from ice age she thinks shes really doing something i cant with these hoes thinking they affect like.. like bruh this is my partime job lol this is your lifetimes career ofcourse u going to be mad lol stay mad cause what im winning? so u think showing me attitude gonna do something um no it just shows me that ur a terrible person ur disgusting and fuckin ugly i was just being nice and now that youve shown ur true colors i no longer need to loook go crawl back in ur dark cave u hoeeeeeeeeeee.. anyways ill be back for more updates byeeee
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I don’t have a title for this one. It’s simply a mess...
***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***
Sav and Dem were on their way to pick Savannah up from Anne. Chi was still in bed sleep when he left. They partied until four in the morning and didn’t stop once they got home. It was almost three in the afternoon now. Sav was the happiest he’d ever been, and Chi seemed like it too. At the beginning of their marriage, he didn’t think they would make it. There was a lot of arguing and past mistakes being thrown towards each other. They went to therapy for a short while and it helped a lot. Mostly Chi, because Sav had done things to her that he knew fucked her up emotionally and some mentally. Her forgiveness was vital for their relationship to succeed. Dr. Pie continually told Sav he needed to stop dismissing his wife’s feelings and own up to all of his mistakes.
Over time her advice proved true. Sav realized when he held himself accountable then apologized, Chi would almost immediately become more submissive. That was a big problem in their relationship too. She didn’t want to let him lead the household and responded to him aggressively all the time. However, after talking to Lake, his brother gave him so great insight as well. Do you ever see Avery talking to me like she a nigga? She’s submissive because I give her the space to be a woman, without making her feel less than in her moments. Chi get extra masculine when you not doing what she need or talkin’ down to her. They nigga mentality kick in and it’s versus you instead of y’all verse the problem. Stop trying to put her beneath you. That ain’t no bitch you fuckin’, it’s your wife.
Lake and Avery set the tone for what Sav thought husband and wife should be because they were just so in sync with one another. They did their own thing, in their own little world. In the first half of marriage, every time him and Chi did something the other didn’t like, they compared. Sav wanted what his big brother had, and Chi wanted what she saw Avery fall in love with over and over again. Avery and Lake told them both to find their own couple style and stop jacking their shit.
“Remind me to go get Poppy some more of them surprise egg jawns.”
“Them things ain’t nothing but expensive easter eggs filled with dollar store shit, bro.”
“I know but my princess love them. She be so surprised when she opening them, happy about all the bullshit inside.”
“How Melody?”
“She ard,” Dem shrugged. “Nicole back on her bullshit…but I’m movin’ on it different this time. Something in my spirit just not sittin’ right no more.”
“For real?”
“Mhm, I need to see what I’m missin’. I can’t be everywhere no more. Got all these fuckin’ kids.”
“I ain’t wanna say nothing but you is wylin bro,” Sav laughed. “You a good dad though, Dem. Can’t nobody take that from you, Ion care what your past look like.”
“Seem like everybody else do,” Dem mumbled but Sav heard him clearly.
“Who? Fuck them! Ain’t nobody perfect out this bitch. I still don’t believe what that hoe sayin’. A muhfucka gon’ have to come with video evidence on you to convince me and even then, I be like ehhh, that ain’t my brother.”
“Sound like Lake when he clearly seen Wreck on tape and told the cops, nah, that ain’t my brother. I don’t know who that crazy nigga is.” Dem couldn’t even get it all out fully before cracking up right along with Sav.
“That’s how you stand with your family. Fuck what anybody else say and I’ma keep it a bean with you, even if it was what it was…” Sav shrugged. Nobody should’ve expected anything else when it came to Dem.
For the past year, Sav and Dem did their best to focus on what they had going on individually instead of turning back to the world they liked to live in with just the two of them. It had to change for the sake of Dem’s mental health and who Sav needed to be as his own man. They leaned on each other way too much. Lake was proud of them for doing their best at putting other things than each other first. Sav however still didn’t give anyone else room to say shit on Dem and he didn’t want to hear anything either. He and Chi had it out one good time, he even let her express some foul shit she felt about his brother then they put Dem as an issue in their relationship to rest.
“Why Wreck car here?” Dem pointed to their brother parked in the driveway with no shame.
“This nigga been shackin’ up with Anne, bro. I ain’t say shit cause he tryna be quiet about it. Ion know what this nigga got goin’ on with her ass.”
“Bro, he really into it with this old ass lady?” Dem laughed, getting out the car.
“He was here the last few times I came, like real lovey dovey.”
“Lovey dovey?” Dem scrunched his face up. “Nah, not my brother.”
“See for yourself.” Sav used his key unlock the door and Savannah was in her walker moving a mile a minute. That gave him hope she’d eventually walk on her own. “Look at my Banana! Go momma, go!”
Savannah smiled big crashing into them, reversing into the dining room, going around the table and then back to her daddy and uncle at high speed.
“I keep tellin’ you, y’all be worried for nothing,” Dem said, picking his niece up, kissing her chubby cheeks making her blush. “Just gotta be patient, she perfect, bro.”
“Mm…it’s just you,” Anne said, coming out of the kitchen with a robe on looking freshly fucked. “Hey Dem baby, how are you?”
“I’m good, wassup?”
“Nothing, making your crazy brother some lunch,” Anne responded sounding like a proud girlfriend. Sav turned to Dem with the I told you so face.
“She thick as fuck though,” Dem took another glance when she walked back to the kitchen. “For a hoe her age, you gotta give her points for the body alone. Damn!”
Sav went up the steps flagging Dem to follow him. They held in their laughter, creeping towards Anne’s bedroom. Savannah was right along with them not knowing what the heck going on. Sav opened the door to find Wreck sleep, stretched out like he lived there. He had an empty breakfast tray next to him and everything.
“Bro…” Dem whispered. “This nigga not serious. Here, hold Banny.” He gave his niece to Sav then hopped on top of their brother. Sav was hyperventilating.
“What the fuck!” Wreck started whooping his ass. He didn’t know what was going on, his first reflex was to fight. Dem was windmilling to get free. His brother was strong as shit.
“So you wasn’t you gon’ help me?” Dem finally got away, staring at Sav’s dumbass holding onto the wall with Savannah on his side silently dying.
“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe yo,” Sav had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. “Bro, why the fuck you jump on him? He fucked you up.”
“Y’all niggas play too much!” Wreck said, getting up in the nude. “What the fuck if I woulda shot your stupid ass?!”
“Aye nigga!” “Sav covered Savannah eyes. “You don’t see my baby?”
“Oh shit, my fault Banny.” Wreck put the cover over him. “Go take her to her room.”
“Look at you sounding like her uncle step grandpop,” Sav said loud as hell and Dem hollered. “Wreck what the fuck is you doin’ my nigga? Why are you up in here like you pay the bills?”
“I’m mindin’ my fuckin’ business that’s what I’m doin’.”
“He’s pays for more than my bills. Why are y’all in my bedroom?” Anne appeared at the door with her arms crossed.
“Because our brother in here. What you doin’ to him? Ain’t no way that pussy…Daddy sorry baby,” Sav kissed his Banana’s forehead. “It ain’t still juicy like it was in seventies to have him like this. She puttin’ period blood in your food, bro.”
“Sav, what?” Dem ain’t never heard nothing like that before.
“Yea, I know all the bitch tricks. You had spaghetti in the last few months Wreck? That’s usually how they disguise it.”
“Nigga you trippin’,” Wreck laughed. “For real, get the fuck out.”
“So this your house now too? You gon’ let him put me and your granddaughter out Anne?” Sav would not stop and Dem was cracking up.
“Why don’t you just tell them?” Anne directed towards Wreck. “It’s not like it can be hidden forever.”
“Tell us what?” Dem asked, looking between his brother and Anne.
“I’m pregnant.”
“See…” Sav pointed at Dem then Wreck. “See! What the fuck I say?! I been tellin’ you!”
“Nigga, you ain’t tellin’ me shit! Both y’all get the fuck out!”
“Come on, Sav,” Dem pulled him out the room. He could tell their brother wasn’t happy about that news at all and Sav would’ve kept on going.
They both sat downstairs dumbfounded. Wreck didn’t move like this or hadn’t in a very long time, so it was surprising.
“You think Lake know?” Dem turned to Sav.
“I got a better question, why would Wreck get her old ass pregnant?”
“The fuck do we really care for though? I can’t say shit in the matter, I’m fucked up too. If he like it, I love it.”
Anne and Wreck’s arguing could be heard clear as day. She was yelling at him about always trying to hide their relationship while Wreck kept saying it wasn’t one.
“But you always the fuck up in my house when it’s convenient for you!”
“I ain’t gotta be in this shit! Who be callin’ who?”
“You are not going to stress this baby out of me! I know that’s what you want!”
“That’s some fucked up some shit to say!”
“Banana,” Sav turned his daughter around facing him. “They always be arguing like this when you here?” he asked her, and Savannah just stared at her dad.
“Now y’all got this bitch started,” Wreck said coming down the steps. “You think I wanna hear this shit?”
“Well you gonna hear it!” Anne shouted from upstairs. “Call me a bitch again!”
“Bitch!” Wreck tried his luck. Dem and Sav were inconsolable. “See, I’m that type of nigga, you sure you wanna have a baby with me?”
“I don’t need you for shit! Thank you for my miracle baby, you can go! If you think I’ma put up with the bullshit at my big age you are sadly mistaken!”
“Yea, ard, say that now then be sending me thousands of texts and crying on my voicemail like you always do.”
They continued going back and forth which told Dem and Sav one thing. No man stayed, continuing to argue with a woman they were only fucking. This obviously wasn’t the first time either.
“But you come running, don’t you? Please stop acting like this is one way!”
“Anne, get the fuck out my face with this stupid shit.”
“Come upstairs, Wreck, you showing off in front of your lil brothers like this shit cute! I’m not no young bitch you gon’ do anything with!”
“What? Ain’t nobody gotta put on for them but you! You gon’ use this muhfuckin baby to make you think you more than what you are to me.”
“What am I then?”
“My lil mature ass freak.”
“Fuck you, Wreck! Disrespecting me like this while my grandbaby is here!” Anne’s voice cracked a little. “Get the fuck out my house!”
Sav and Dem waited for what they knew was coming. Wreck looked at them then blew his breath going back upstairs.
“I knew it, I knew it.” Sav shook his head getting up. “Let’s go nigga.”
By the time Sav strapped Savannah in the car and prepared to leave, Wreck was coming out the house followed by Anne who stopped at the door. She said something to him, and he had the ard, shut the fuck up now look. When they watched him kiss her, they knew their brother was about to have a baby with his niece’s grandmother.
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Dream SMP Reacting to a Witch!Hybrid
Pronouns: they/them
Includes: Dream, Quackity, Wilbur, qnd Tommy (PLATONIC)
Warnings: Meantion of drugs, swearing
A/N: This is based off of the canon characters and is set in the time of the Pogtopia/Manburg war!!! I might write a second part if this goes well. Also, this is the first thing I have written for this fandom, so I hope I get the character personalities correct. This is not beta read, so please don't attack me on my poor grammar skills. 😅
I hope you all enjoy!!! 💙
Dream
He was mining when he first met you
Dream heard a malicious cackle on the dark side of the cave and slowly drew his sword
He decided to charge towards the strange noise and was quickly met with an invisible body under him
He furrowed his brows and felt the body shuffle out from under him
"BEGONE STRANGE MAN"
"... excuse me?"
After a moment, Y/N's potion has worn off
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"
Dream chuckled and put away his sword, deciding the person in front of him wasn't a threat
After Y/n calmed down, the two had a talk, explaining the situation
Turns out, you had thought of a joke while mining for redstone (hence the laughter)
"So where is your hat and huge nose? You are really attractive for a witch."
"Luckily, I got my attributes from my father. What was that last part?."
"Wait, what about your hat?"
"I haven't done laundry in a few days.... hold up did you just say I was attractive?"
Ever since then Dream has had you by his side partly because he is a little clingy creating potions for him and the rest of the dream team
"How do you feel about cursing children?"
"I'm not that kind of witch, Dream."
"But what if he was being a little blonde bitch?"
"DREAMWASTAKEN I SWEAR TO GOD-"
Loves bringing you stuff to use for your projects
Need blaze rods for a new brewing stand? Done.
Need lapis lazuli so you have a chance for better communication? Done.
Anything you want? Done.
He will literally go to the nether for a few hours and come back with his arms full of whatever you need
And if you don't need anything or just need to take a break, he'll spend the day taking you anywhere that he think you would be happiest
He has you make him a lot of potions, bragging to everyone on the server how much better at creating potions you are
"Y/n's potions last longer, are more effective, prettier-"
"Are you sure? I think-"
"Tell me what you think, I fuckin dare you >:( ."
Overall, he is your #1 supporter
Quackity
The day had been long, dealing with Schlatt definitely tires a guy out after 5 minutes
On his walk on the outskirts of the Manburg wall, he spotted a suspicious row of blaze powder leading to the woods
Dawning his armor and a sword, he followed the trail to a small hut
He could see the outline of someone in the hut nervously pacing around
Deciding what he thought was the best possible option, he knocked on the door of the hut
There was immediately the sound of glass bottles falling on the floor and muffled words
Soon, the door swung open to reveal a disheveled being with a nervous grin
And Quackity went from tough to awkward
"C-Can I help you with something?"
"Uh, do you waNT SOME DRUGS?"
"ExCuSe Me?!"
Everything was going to shit
After a moment of awkward staring, a glass bottle tumbled off the brewing stand
Upon focusing on what was going on behind the two people trying and failing to act normal, they both saw that every brewing stand was on fire
"ARE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING DRUGS?!"
"NO I'M JUST REALLY BAD AT THIS POTION."
Finally putting the fire out together, the two looked at their now soot stained clothes
The witch hybrid ran a hand through their hair and sighed
"Well this is completely ruined."
Quackity frowned a little hesitant to offer his help
"If you need to you could borrow some brewing stands-"
"Really? *-* "
On the walk back to Manburg, you explained who you were
Quackity was still a little confused
"Wait but what potion were you even brewing?"
"Fire resistance."
He immediately burst out laughing, which ended up with you slapping his arm repeatedly
Eventually, you two became the definition of the "friends to lovers" trope
You often helped him de-stress after stressful days in office with Schlatt
He'd try whatever you recommended
"I'd suggest putting quartz on your nightstand."
"Cool!"
Later that night, you forgot something at his house
Once you walked into his house, you could see stacks of quartz next to his bed.
He really trusted any advice you could give him
And on days where people would criticize you for being part witch?
Big Q will attack anyone
Even if he knows he will lose
And at random parts of the day he'll just tell you oddly inspirational thoughts
"You are a bad bitch, dare I say a bad witch. Own that shit."
"That is oddly motivational, thank you. :) "
Wilbur
The former president was strolling along the side of a river, trying to form a coherent plan of action
Upon noticing a person trudging out of the water fumbling with glass bottles, Wilbur jogged over to them and put a careful hand on their shoulder
"Are you okay?"
The person moved the soggy hat out of their face and smiled
"Yeah, I just fell in the water while trying to fill up some of the bottles, but thanks for checking on me!"
He hummed in response, wondering why he was already so interested in the being before him
"Well I should probably get going, but thank you!"
"Wait! What's you name?"
"It's Y/n, and you are..?"
"Wilbur Soot, it was an honor meeting you, Y/n."
This man spent the rest of the night thinking about you and who the hell you were
He didn't know much about the mysterious person, but he did know that they were one of the most alluring people he had met in a long time
It was weeks since he saw you, Wilbur nearly gave up searching
That was until you walked into him on a rainy day
The brunette immediately went in defensive position and pulled the stranger to his chest, despite the dampened clothes
"Um, Mr. Soot?"
He looked down to see you and his face lit up
"Y/n! It's a pleasure to see you again."
He took a small step back and kissed your hand
No one can convince me that Wilbur "Gentleman" Soot does not flirt by giving hand kisses
The two went into Pogtopia and Wilbur almost immediately wrapped his coat around you
"What were you doing out there? The rain is coming down so hard you must not have been able to see well."
"I was going to ask if I could borrow a few golden carrots for a potion I'm making."
Wilbur nodded and walked towards the stared and whisper shouted down
"TOMMY BRING ME SOME GOLDEN CARROTS!"
"BUT WILBUR, I-"
"PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF THE STUNNING WITCH!"
The boy at the bottom of the stairs grumbled and the tall man sat next to you once more
After a few minutes of Wilbur fawning over everything you did, a blonde male walked up the steps and glared at Wilbur as he handed you the carrots
"Simp..."
Wilbur dramatically gasped as you chuckled next to him
You eventually started coming over to Pogtopia practically every day
Most of the time it was to see Wilbur, but the rest of your time was spent creating potions for the war
As the nation grew, you were brought out of your shell more with Wilbur introducing you to everyone
He didn't want you to feel uncomfortable in a new place
You often walked along the same riverbank where you met
You have definitely pushed each other off a few times
He keeps small things that you enjoy on him at all times
He keeps a tiny bottle of sand from the river you met at, a piece of your old robe, and so much more in his pockets
Whenever he feels like he's in a dark place or justneeds to ground himself he takes out one of the items and just holds it close.
Mans is so in love
Tommy
He met you in the nether while you were farming netherwart
The blonde was thrilled to find a new fortress and decided to raid it before reinforcements came
Seeing a sleeping figure next to a bed of sould sand, he took a few congident steps forward
Once close enough, he poked you with the stick
"You good?"
"I was good when I was asleep."
"AYE I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD SO-"
After arguing for what felt like hours, you both stormed off to find both exits being blocked by wither skeletons
Tommy had gotten beaten up pretty bad after the fight so you took him back to your hut to get all patched up
"I didn't even need your help. I'm tougher than I look."
"You legitimately passed out twice on the way here."
"HOW DARE YOU, I WAS RESTING MY EYES!"
After a few hours of healing and a ton of laighter, you two became the most chaotic duo in the smp
This british raccoon child would often steal small potions to pull pranks
But unless they were really important and you needed them back, you'd always join in on the pranks
He tried to get you to make a potion using the 'Tubbo Bath Water' one time
It did not end well
At the point in your friendship where you revealed you were a hybrid, Tommy was so confused
"That makes no sense, witches are still humans, right?"
"Yeah..?"
"So how does that make you a hybrid?"
👁👄👁
"Listen here you little shit-"
He likes to show you off to anyone that can listen
"You think you're special? HA! I have a best friend that is part witch and they will kick your ass. >:)"
He is really interested in everything you do but will never ask
But if you tell him about what you're doing unprovoked?
Tommy would get so happy
He is so excited to learn what you have to teach and would be one of the best friends ever
#dream smp x reader#tommyinnit & reader#wilbur x y/n#wilbur x reader#wilbur x you#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur soot x y/n#wilbur soot x you#quackity x you#quackity x y/n#quackity x reader#dream x you#dream x reader#dream x y/n
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The door to the darkened alley next to the Alibi Room opens behind him, letting out a jumble of voices and loud music. Mickey expected Ian to find him there sooner or later. That’s why he’s so surprised to see that it’s not his husband pushing the heavy door open with his hip, his hands occupied by holding two glasses of beer, but Tami, his—
Well, whatever they are to each other.
Strangers, mostly. Both holding the title of Gallagher family appendages—the husband and the baby mama—who occasionally shared a laugh over some Gallagher bullshit. But that has always been as far as their relationship went.
“Occupied,” he informs her curtly before he takes another drag of his cigarette.
Tami smiles, undeterred.
“I was actually looking for you,” she explains as she lets the door close behind her, cutting the sounds from the inside to mere thumps again.
“Look, if you’re already tired of your baby daddy’s dick, I can’t say I blame ya, but you’ll have to find someone else because, on principle, I don’t fuck Lip’s sloppy seconds—”
Tami makes a face. “Jesus fuck. Is that really the only reason you can think of why I might want to see you?”
His eyes dart around her head of hair as he tries to look at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling very tense.
“Yeah?”
“Well, fuck you, too. No, here, listen.” She passes him one of the beers. “I saw the way you looked back in there and thought you might wanna talk.”
Mickey’s felt sick all evening. Ever since their big announcement when Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, squeezed him tight, and gave him that blinding grin before he told everyone the good news.
There was clapping and noise, so much fucking noise. People were reaching out their hands to tap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, and it made Mickey feel like those hands were all grasping his throat while his blood was pumping in his ears.
His plan was to spend the rest of the party here, where he could breathe again, chain-smoking his way through the ordeal. He thinks he’ll be sick if he drinks anything right now, but he takes the glass from Tami anyway.
“About?” he shoots back noncommittally.
“Why you’re scared.”
On instinct, Mickey scoffs out a laugh. “Fuck off, I ain’t scared.”
“Right,” Tami replies, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. “That why you’re hiding out here during your own party?”
“Just needed to—” Groaning in exasperation, Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose and composes himself. “I just needed a second away from everyone congratulatin’ me. Or callin’ me daddy Milkovich. Or fuckin’ Kermit asking if I was gonna be the mom or the dad—” He cuts himself off again, measuring Tami with a hard stare. “What’s it to you, anyway?
She responds with a sincere smile.
“Believe it or not, I was scared of having a baby, too.”
Mickey’s brows furrow in confusion. “That why you decided to have another?”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not scared anymore.”
“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.”
“Maybe,” Tami admits with half a shrug.
They spend the next few minutes in silence, Tami drinking her beer and Mickey finishing his smoke, his own beer left untouched.
“But you’re a chick, you know, so it’s different,” Mickey states resolutely after he lights another cigarette, confident he’s found an argument she couldn’t dispute. “You have, like, all those motherly instincts and shit. I don’t.”
For some reason, she snorts and shakes her head. Then, her expression softens again, and she says, “I have it on good authority that there’s one little boy who basically worships the ground you walk on.”
“He’s five. Fuck does he know,” he retorts back derisively, immediately chastising himself because Freddie knew a lot, in fact. Most importantly, how to get underneath Mickey’s skin.
Not that he didn’t love and pester Ian just as much, obviously. Everyone loved Ian, the charming motherfucker. But Mickey and the kid had a special bond, much to Lip’s irritation.
Freddie was one of the main reasons Mickey decided that he was ready to have kids all those months ago. He isn’t so sure of it now, though.
He takes another drag and lets the smoke out through his nose.
“I never thought I’d be this,” he explains ambiguously, not just meaning being a guy who gives enough shit to smoke outside a bar. “Always knew how to survive. I was good at that. I was gonna see forty, most of it behind bars, maybe fifty, if I was lucky enough and didn’t lose a fuckin’ limb at some shitty construction job. And then, one day, I wake up to a tire iron to my spine—”
“If that’s a metaphor, I don’t follow.”
“—and next thing I know, I have a whole ass husband, a fuckin’ condo on the West Side like some yuppie, and I catch myself sayin’ things like, fuck it, let’s have a kid. What’s wrong with me? I can’t fuckin’ do this, can I?”
The truth he’ll never admit to anyone, probably, is that Tami’s right. He is scared. Fucking terrified, really. Because there’s a kid who will have him for a dad, and Mickey feels sorry for it.
The poor bastard isn’t even a proper baby yet. It’s just a sonogram stuck to their fridge. A baby-like matter that Ian’s app insists is the size of cauliflower now. When Mickey finally managed to spot one in Whole Foods, he found himself apologizing to it for some bizarre reason.
He doesn’t want to be like his dad. He wants to do this right, but he doesn’t know if he knows how.
“The most important thing?” Tami breaks the silence then, reading Mickey’s reaction correctly even when he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t bail on this kid. Or Ian, because he’ll need you to be there just as much.”
Mickey bites his cheek and nods. There’s a chance he’d say more, ask Tami for advice even, maybe, if, at that very second, Ian didn’t come out to join them, bursting out of the alleyway door as if summoned.
“There’s the pops-to-be!” he cheers a little too loudly with a smile that splits his whole face. He stumbles forward on clumsy feet and envelops Mickey tightly in his arms. “I was looking for you.”
“Fuckin’ octopus-man,” Mickey laughs, careful not to let the drunk idiot spill his beer. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Just a couple beers,” Ian answers as he nuzzles into Mickey’s neck.
“Such a fuckin’ lightweight.”
Humming his agreement, Ian snags Mickey’s glass and knocks down most of its contents in one go. He belches before saying in a low voice, “I was planning on dragging your ass to the bathroom later and having my way with you, but since we’re already here, alone...”
He already has his free hand palming at Mickey’s dick over his jeans when Tami makes a sound behind him, something between a snort and a cough.
Ian’s eyes take a minute to properly zero in on her.
“Tami! Hey!” he greets her with exaggerated excitement. “You’re here, too. Why are you here, too? Something wrong?”
Tami looks pointedly at Mickey. “Wanna tell him, or should I?”
He seriously considers being honest for a second, but his next words are out before he can stop them.
“Your brother’s girlfriend was tryna jump me.”
Tami almost chokes on the incredulous huff of laughter she lets out. She finishes her beer and shakes her head, staring Mickey down.
“You’re such a fucking asshole, Mickey, I swear to God. Forget I ever said anything,” she barks at him as she goes for the door.
“Hey, Tami,” Mickey stops her last minute. “Thanks, or whatever.”
Tami rolls her eyes. Still, just before she slips back inside, she throws a quick smile over her shoulder.
“Did you just thank her for trying to fuck you?” Ian inquires stupidly when the door closes behind her.
“Sure,” Mickey sounds off without further explanation.
He turns back to his husband and lightly pats his cheek, letting his hand slide all the way down to his junk in hopes of pointing his attention in the right direction again. “So, about those plans you had—“
But all of a sudden, Ian’s white as a sheet, giving him a look of absolute horror.
“What?” Mickey asks, mirroring his look.
“Think I’m gonna puke.”
“’ Course you are,” Mickey has enough time to groan before Ian bends in half and proceeds to throw up on the sidewalk.
Mickey takes a few steps away, trying to give Ian some privacy, but he’s stopped by a hand clutching his wrist and pulling him back.
“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian says in between spits as his hand slides down to hold Mickey’s awkwardly.
“Hey, that’s okay,” Mickey tells him gently—just as gently as he strokes his back in big circles. “I’m here.”
#just 1.5k words with some post-canon much needed convo#that wouldn't leave my mind alone#my fics#shameless fanfiction#shameless fic
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New Romantics | Part Four
18+
Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*
Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings, oral sex (both), penetrative sex, Perv!Spencer low-key, public sex, quickies, multiple orgasms,
Word Count: 5k
a/n: what could possibly go wrong next?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | epilogue
She’s been asleep barely 2 hours when he shakes her awake, “Hey, when did you need to get ready today?”
“Uh?” She sits up and rubs her eyes, “we don’t have to leave until 1 so, like 11?”
“It’s 8:30, did you want to stay and sleep more?”
She looks at him and sighs, “are we okay?”
He nods, “can we just call it even?”
“Sure,” she agrees without knowing what she did wrong. It was more than just snapping on Tuesday, which is what she was still hurt over. “But I’m going to go, I need to change and stuff.”
“Yeah,” he nods but his smile is sad and she knows she’s fucking it up more.
She gets out of his bed, once it was the warmest bed she’s ever known. Any bed she shared with him was, but now it felt cold and uninviting and there was an unspoken knowingness that they were both genuinely upset.
“I’m still your fake girlfriend for the next 24 hours… can we make them count?” She asks, avoiding eye contact so he can't see her cry if he says no.
“Come here?”
She gets back into the bed and she cuddles into his chest. He holds her for a moment, “you’ve been the best girlfriend in the whole world. Do you really still want to be friends after this? Have I fucked up that bad?”
“Oh honey,” she places a hand on his cheek and looks at him softly, “I will be your neighbour, your best friend, your co-worker, carpool buddy, coffee friend, girlfriend, whatever you need as long as you’d like to have me around.”
He remembers the first time she said that and she knows because his smile is the same. “I love you.”
It hurts, “I love you, too.”
She kisses him quickly, attempting to pull back when his fingers grip her hair and his tongue is on her lips and she’s following his lead again.
“No,” she whispers, “I can’t.”
“Oh,” he stops and his hands drop to his sides so she can get back up.
“I’m going to go get ready, but I’ll come back when I’m done?”
“Yeah,” he nods again.
It breaks her heart to get up and go, she grabs her shoes and she sneaks out of his room, finding her keys in her pocket, she opens her own door and cries the second the door closes.
She cries in the shower, she cries while fixes her hair, she cries while she has lunch. Every song reminds her of the situation, every section of her apartment reminds her of him, the stupid door where they first kissed is closed and she wishes he was stable enough to bang on it and demand an answer.
Whatever was going on between them was reaching a bubbling over point, she can only store so much emotion before she explodes on him.
As soon as she is in her dress, makeup on and ready to go, she walks into his apartment to find him struggling with his bowtie, it makes her smile for the first time since she left his room this morning, “need help?”
“Yes, please.”
She walks over to him and repeats the same movements he attempted, making the bow look pretty before smoothing her hands over his dress shirt and looking up at him. “Handsome as ever.”
“You’re always beautiful,” he compliments her right back but his voice is still as sad as the night before.
“Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on in there?” She pries, tapping his temple with her index finger, “you’re my best friend and I don’t like seeing you sad.”
“I heard what you said yesterday,” he whispers, “about how if you were just using someone you would have picked Derek.”
“And?” She doesn’t get why it’s a big deal because it makes perfect sense to her in her mind.
“And it hurt me,” he snaps, “quite a lot!?”
And the dam breaks.
“Because I proved to them that I’m not using you? Spencer do you know what I meant by that?” She snaps right back.
“What else could it mean?! Clearly I’m not hot enough for you to just fuck and toss aside—”
“I meant that I love you and that’s why I’m with you! If I was just using someone for a job then I’d fuck Derek cause he’s a one and done, toss them to the side and never see them again, kind of guy!”
“And?” He repeats her word choice in a snippy tone that makes her furious but she knows he’s just trying his best to understand her.
She sighs loudly and obnoxiously, “and you’re a take him to meet your mom, marry and have his babies, love him for the rest of your life and one day scatter his ashes, kind of lover.” Crying by the end, she wipes her tears and tries to stay somewhat presentable-looking.
He’s silent, eyes wide as he takes in all her words, “I have always loved you,” she adds, “and no matter how fucking angry I am or how stressed or upset, I am never going to stop loving you, Spencer.”
“Me either,” his tone is still just as upset, “and that's the part that sucks.”
“What do you mean?” She just poured her heart out to him and he still doesn’t get it.
“I LOVE YOU!” He screams it at her with his hands thrown in the air, “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire fucking life and it’s driving me crazy!”
“It’s driving you crazy?” She can’t help but laugh like she’s losing her mind, “I have been doing everything in my power to make you understand that I love you and you keep thinking I just want to be friends!”
“Because you said you loved me like a friend the first time?!”
“No, I fucking didn’t!” She is so frustrated she’s turning the same colour as her dress, steaming from her ears like a cartoon character.
“I asked if best friends can be in love because I wanted to see if you would say you loved me more than that, and then you fucking said “yeah cause that’s how I love you” which means you love me as a friend?!”
“Because I thought that’s what you wanted?!”
She can’t rub her eyes cause she’ll ruin her makeup but she is so mad she just wants to scream. Pressing her fingers to her own temples, she turns away from him and sighs, she loves him so much and yet this is the most frustrating thing that’s ever happened.
“You are so lucky,” she just laughs, shaking her head back and forth as she turns back to him, “you are so fuckin’ lucky.”
“Why?”
She wraps her arms around his middle and looks up into his eyes with one last sigh, “we have to go or we’ll be late, so I can’t explain all of my feelings right now, so let’s bench this conversation and I can show you just how much I love you when we get back?”
“Okay,” he nods. He rests his hands on her arms and he looks down with the softest glance, he’s still trying so hard to not cry. “I’m really sorry.”
“So am I, I should have listened to you better and explained myself more,” she whispers, “do you believe me now?”
He nods, “I told you, it’s hard for me.”
“I tried my best to be subtle so I didn’t scare you off, but I guess you really don’t do subtle?” She can’t help but laugh, “but I really do love you.”
His hands are on her cheeks, pulling her into a kiss, she melts against him. He breathes her in, it’s the longest and deepest kiss she’s ever had and she honestly feels like he’s taking her soul and making her his. She belongs to him and she knows it, now he does too.
“I love you, too.”
—
All eyes are on her and it makes him smile, she’s the only one in a red dress in a room full of black and white, she stands out like a sore thumb. She looks the most beautiful, she stands beside Spencer with her arm wrapped around his and a huge smile on her face, it makes him even happier to see her smile again.
The hardest part of fighting with her was knowing she was upset and that he was only making it worse. Seeing her smile return is everything to him, he loves her more than words can express and she loves him right back, he can tell by the way she smiles at him; because it’s exactly the same way he’s smiling at her.
“I see that you’ve made up,” Derek interrupts their current dance to say hello.
The BAU team was always so busy on nights like this, they had all the best stories and everyone wanted to hear them, which meant they typically didn’t see each other a lot for the whole night.
“We did,” Spencer smiles. “Thank’s Derek.”
She looks up at them both, confused, “how many of them know?”
“Huh?” He plays dumb but she can see right through him.
“Do they all know I’m not really your girlfriend or is it just Aaron, Derek and whoever else you told?”
“Elle,” he says her name. “I told the first girl I slept with that I was falling in love with you because I needed advice from someone who has already been with me and knows how I get.”
“Sick, cool, love that for you,” she smiles and walks away.
He grabs her and she stops, “I told you how much it hurt that I had no one to talk to and you told all of them? And you couldn’t even tell me you really loved me this whole time? I thought we were best friends Spencer?” She shakes her head, disappointed more than anything, swatting his hand off her as he reaches to stop her.
“Let her go, she’s right to be a little mad,” Derek holds him back. “let her be mad.”
“Why?” Spencer is so new to relationships he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“She wants to be your girlfriend for real, let her calm down and then go apologize and ask her,” Derek's smile is sweet as he pulls Spencer into a hug.
It slowly becomes a dance, everyone is used to Derek being touchy with his friends, he has danced with everyone so far tonight so it’s only fair Spencer has a turn. Spencer holds him tight, eyes closed so he doesn’t have to think about all the attention he’s been getting since they arrived.
“Thank you for always being here for me,” he whispers, “but I have to go see her.”
“Fights like this just make your relationship stronger, it teaches you how she wants you to communicate, she just wants you to be honest with her, always,” he whispers with his cheek pressed to Spencer's, “and angry make-up sex is really fun.”
It makes him laugh, “thanks, but she won’t be sleeping with me for a few days, if my memory is correct then she’s mad for more than one reason.”
“Ah,” Derek gets it, “good luck my friend. Good luck.”
When Spencer pulls away, he heads in the direction Y/N left and follows the hallway as far as it goes. She’s sitting on a bench by a window, staring off at the night sky as she takes some deep breaths. She looks a little more peaceful, she’s had a really rough few weeks and he’s not making it any easier on her.
“I know two things for sure,” he speaks softly but she still jumps a little as she turns to him.
“What would they be?”
“That you’re the love of my life,” he’s confident as he sits on the bench beside her and takes her hand in his. “And I’m an idiot when it comes to love.”
“That is quite the dilemma,” she smirks, her eyes gleam as she looks at him and he knows she was trying not to cry by how glossy they are, but it makes her more beautiful, somehow.
“I’m really sorry.”
“All you have to do is tell me the truth, Spencer,” she places her hand on his leg and leans in with a whisper, “it’s really simple.”
“Truth is,” he whispers right back, lips close enough to kiss, “I’m never going to stop loving you, which means more stupid moments are in my future. Just so you know.”
She giggles and kisses him quickly, “I don’t mind being the smart one in the relationship, but you still have to ask.”
“Will you be my girlfriend and let me love you for the rest of my life, no matter how much I fuck up and drive you crazy?” He teases her, knowing she’ll say yes regardless.
“On one condition,” she can’t hide the smirk on her face and he’s nervous at what she’s thinking.
“Anything?”
“You let me love you for just as long? If not longer.”
He nods, “forever?”
She nods back before kissing him just as deeply as they did that morning, her hands in his hair as she presses his face into her’s with force. She holds him there and breathes him in, pulling back with a classic smooch sound, she smiles again, “you’re my boyfriend now.”
He nods with a small smile, “what should we do first as boyfriend and girlfriend?”
She bites her lip and pretends to think about it for a moment, “fuck in the linen closet down the hall?”
“I don’t have any condoms on me?” Is his only worry, not getting caught, not that all their bosses and superiors were there, just that he didn’t have a condom.
She pulls one out of her bra with a smile, “Savannah gave this to me about 3 minutes before you came over here.”
“How much make-up sex do they have?” He asks as he takes her hand and leads her down the hallway.
She’s giddy and smiling, her heels click on the floor as they rush to the other end of the hall and open the little door. There are shelves with towels and rolls upon rolls of silverware in cloth napkins. A vacuum in the corner, some brooms and just enough room for them.
She pulls him in closer and shuts the door, reconnecting their lips as she pushes him up against it. Hands reaching for his belt she kisses down his neck and he’s like putty in her hands as soon as she strokes him, he moans by accident and she covers his mouth with her free hand.
“Do you have any idea how turned on you make me? I have wanted to fuck you since I first saw you, 6 years ago…”
“Really?” His muffled voice behind her hand makes her laugh. She removes her hand and instead runs her fingers through his hair while taking a moment to look at him and really take it all in.
“Yeah,” she nods, “which is why I asked to sleep with you on the way home from the bar, I didn’t know if I could handle it either it, but I’ve always wanted Doctor Reid from the BAU to rail me. I just didn’t think we’d end up falling in love?”
“No one has ever admitted to having a crush on me and meant it,” he whispers.
“I’m glad I get to be one of your firsts,” she smiles again before he pulls her into another kiss.
She kisses the side of his mouth and then his jaw, down his neck and then she’s dropping to her knees in front of him. He’s hard in her hands but he twitches as he sees her like this, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes as she strokes him, she flattens her tongue and taps the tip of his cock to it.
He has to cover his own mouth or else he’s going to get them caught, he moans at the feeling, closing his eyes and that's when she takes him in her mouth. His free hand is in her hair, careful not to mess it up but enough grip to steady himself.
He tilts his head back against the door with a knock and a sign, “fuck,” he can’t help but talk into his hand which only makes it sound louder in the tight space.
She feels so good every single time and yet this one feels different, he looks down at her and she pulls off, “what’s wrong?”
“I love you,” he shrugs.
He helps her back up to her feet and she backs up against the shelves, “come here?”
He helps her hike her dress up, holding all the material up as he slips her underwear off and takes that condom back out of her bra with a single kiss to her chest. He rolls it over himself and lines up with her, her arms wrap around his shoulders as she looks at him, “show me how much you love me?”
He slides in and they don’t break eye contact as she takes him, her mouth opens in a silent gasp at the feeling, her hands grip his shoulders tighter as she steadies her ass on a shelf and wraps her legs around him while he bottoms out.
With a hand on her cheek and one on her lower back, he pulls out and thrusts back in with a smile as she bites back a moan, she pulls his face in close to hers to kiss him while he fucks her. The hand on his cheek slides down her neck, applying a small amount of pressure that makes her breathing hitch. She swallows sharply before his hand starts to trail over her breasts and then between them.
With a thumb on her clit, he fucks her a little harder while rubbing his thumb in a circle. She’s breathing heavily into his mouth, placing sloppy kisses against each other as they enjoyed each other.
She’s so close and he knows it, and then there is a knock on the door.
“Spence, we have a case when you’re done?” He hears Derek's voice behind the door and he can’t believe it.
“Okay!” He calls back without stopping, instead, he fucks into her a little faster.
“Oh!” She moans by accident before covering her mouth with a slap and wide eyes, moaning behind her hand as she bounces on his cock.
He kisses her hand, making her move it so he can press his lips back to hers and absorb all the noises she was going to make, her hands both reach for his back, gripping his suit jacket so tight he’s afraid she might rip it.
She cums with a shocked gasp, it’s as quiet as possible but it still echos around them as he gets closer and closer. He buries his face in her neck and accidentally moans as well as he cums, stilling his hips as he holds her there, sputtering his hips against hers as they catch their breath.
“I love you,” he manages to say between breaths, “that much.”
“You need to go,” she smiles.
He kisses her one last time before he pulls out, he loves the way she gasps every time he does so. She smiles after, their teeth clashing as they laugh, “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”
“I’m never going to get a job,” she shakes her head as she gets off the shelf and fixes her dress.
He takes off the condom and wraps it in some paper towel on the shelf, he’ll get rid of it later. She picks up her underwear, he thinks she puts them back on, but she really slides them into his pocket for him to find in the middle of the case when he reaches for something important...
—
She rides back to headquarters with Penelope and JJ, both of them want to ask and she knows it. Mainly because she looks like she’s had sex, and also because she asks to stop at the academy so she can get another pair of underwear from her locker.
It’s not until they’re in Penelope’s office that they ask, “what’s it like?”
“What’s what like?” She plays dumb.
“Dating Spencer?” Penelope says, “more specifically, having sex with him?” She mumbles and it makes Y/N laugh.
“In total, we’ve been having sex for 3 weeks now and I’ve had 21 orgasms, and we only really fuck on the weekends cause that’s when we’re not busy…” she grinds her teeth slightly with a raised brow, taking a deep breath, “yeah. It’s really great.”
“Holy shit?” They both look more shocked than she’s ever seen them. “How many has he had?” Penelope asks with a quiet voice, pretending she didn’t.
She laughs slightly, “like maybe 14? He’s really generous.”
“What the fuck?” JJ turns to Penelope and shakes her head and there’s something more there that Y/N can sense.
“Who’s Elle?” She asks and they both turn to her with the biggest eyes.
“How do you know about Elle?”
“She’s the first person he slept with?”
“When?” They both shout.
“So he wasn’t kidding. You guys really thought he was a virgin this whole time?” She looks at them like they’re crazy. “How?”
They both just shake their heads and sigh, stuttering and looking for words they don’t have. “We just never thought he could?”
“Snooze ya loose, I guess?” She shrugs, “so what is the case and how can I help?”
“Right! We have a case,” Penelope snaps back into it, “but seriously Elle? Are you sure you have your names right?”
“Penelope,” she looks at her seriously.
“Right, they’re headed to Roanoke.”
There was a child abduction of a 6-year-old girl, CARD and the BAU were both called out and that meant everyone was mingling on the two floors and they would use as much help as possible.
It also turns out that Anderson’s surrogate went into labour a little earlier than anyone expected; so he and his husband have left for paternity leave early. Leaving JJ without an assistant and she really needs help in the office for this one.
She catches on rather quickly, knowing the protocols from her training and she’s not afraid to ask questions. She’s still in her dress, her heels click on the tiles as she rushes around with files, making phone calls and running from the briefing room to Penelope’s office.
When they finally crack the case and apprehend the suspect, she sits down finally. It’s been 11 hours since the banquet, and she was exhausted beyond belief. She never slept the night before, Spencer was uncomfortable and she was in her jeans and when she did fall asleep, he was waking her up moments later to get ready.
It's Sunday morning at 9 am when Spencer finally returns back at headquarters. She’s sitting at his desk when he comes up and wraps his arms around her, “we’re going home, come on.”
“Don’t you have to debrief?”
“Did that on the way back,” he turns her around in the role chair and tilts her head up to look at him, she’s so tired and he can tell. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Ugh,” she stands up with his help, “I did enough profiling today and now I have a whole week to get through.”
“Just to come back and work here,” he smiles, “if you still want to?”
She wraps him up in a real hug and nods against him, “it’s so fun, even with all the murder.”
“Coming home to this is really nice,” he whispers before kissing her cheek quickly, “I’m glad you like it here.”
“Well, well, well,” Derek's voice is behind them. They pull away to see him smiling, arms wide as he saunters over, “if it isn’t the new romantics.”
“Did you have any suspicions?” Y/N asks, he was a profiler after all.
“I knew something was up,” he’s honest. “I knew you guys were actually doing stuff together, I just didn’t think there was so much angst behind closed doors?”
“You have no idea,” Y/N laughs, holding Spencer closer, “it took too long.”
“I thought you were fighting about the job, cause he wasn’t really upset until you were in Penelope’s office, and I heard the rumours even before he heard what you said,” Derek smiles again, “but I also knew you loved him and he loves you.”
“Correct,” she can’t help but smile. “But we really should head home.”
“Home we go,” Spencer agrees.
—
She asks him to unzip her dress the second they’re back in her apartment. She drops the dress to the floor and heads to the bathroom and he’s left alone in her room. It feels different now. He remembers kissing her in the living room for the first time like it was yesterday, he remembers the first time they had sex, the first time he said I love you, and now he’s here and she’s his girlfriend and he’s going to get to make more memories with her.
He’s so embarrassed by how much he’s been crying lately, something about being in his mid-30s was making him feel like he was about to go through menopause— he has never been very openly emotional, but it’s about time he lets himself feel. He wipes the tears and turns to face the wall while he takes his suit off.
He’s been through too much, a lot of which she doesn’t know of. She has promised him forever, whether she means it or not, and he’s worried he’s going to fuck it up before he gets there.
When she comes back, she lays a towel down on her side of the bed and gets in, “guess who got her period on her first day of work?”
“No?” He gasps, playing along with her playful mood. “At least you’re not pregnant.”
“Thank god,” she sighs, “please for the love of God, don’t get me pregnant for at least 5 years? I want a decent career first so that I don't miss much on maternity leave. I really don't want to be benched for having kids.”
He cries again and she looks so concerned as she gets out of bed and wraps her arms around him, “what did I say wrong, Spencer?”
Still facing the wall, he just lets it all out, “I’m sorry.”
“For what, sweetheart?” She attempts to soothe him by running her hands down his arms, “for crying or something else?”
“Crying,” he whispers and she turns him around then.
“Hey,” she looks up at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen, “you are allowed to have emotions, you are allowed to show them and ask for help and tell me when you need something. I’m not going to think you’re too much, or I can’t handle you or think of you as a burden. I know that’s how you feel because it’s how I fell, and we don’t need to go through that together.”
“I love you,” it’s the only thing that feels right to say.
“I love you,” she repeats it, “what made you cry?”
“Can we get in bed first?”
“Yeah, finish getting ready and then come tell me,” she whispers before reaching up and pressing a kiss to his lips.
He slips away to go to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s exhausted but he doesn’t want to miss any time with her. He hurries back to her side, getting into bed in his underwear and making sure both his phones are on the night table, charged and ready if they need him.
But until then, he belonged to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” It’s the first thing he asks because he knows she has a big day tomorrow. “It can wait.”
“What’s that thing you say about intermittent sleep is actually better?”
“Don’t use my words against me, I do that so people don’t stop me from doing what I think I deserve,” he’s truthful. “I’m not going to ever lie or fib to you again. I hate myself, and if I don’t feel like I’ve done enough I won't sleep or eat sometimes.”
“I do that too,” she’s not proud, “are you trying to tell me you cried cause you’re hungry or tired?”
“No,” he smiles, “but thank you for asking for clarification, I like this new system.”
“Me too.”
“I cried because I really love you and I’m realizing this is all real and I’m going to get to make good memories with you, and when you said kids, even in a hypothetical sense, it made it feel real for me,” he whispers the words before pressing his lips together awkwardly.
She glows in the lap light like she did that first night, “it’s a weird concept, isn’t it? The future. At some point I’m going to have known you longer than anyone, one day we’ll have lived with each other longer than we’ve lived apart. We might be grandparents together one day? It’s all weird to think about.”
“Do you seriously want all that with me?” He’s asking because he has another question to ask right after.
“Yes, Spencer,” she laughs. “I really do.”
“Would you like to Marry me?”
“Seriously?” Her eyes widen and her jaw drops and he’s never seen her look this stunned before.
He nods, “my mom isn’t going to able to appreciate my wedding the longer I wait, and if you really mean it; I’d like to have a wedding with my mom there while she remembers me.”
“I know her birthday is coming up, but can we bring her here instead?”
“Why?”
“My parents decided to drive from Salam to here for my graduation and use the flight money on a nice Airbnb for the week. We should do it while they’re all here because I don’t know when they’d be able to come back,” she has had the same worries about her parents missing her life.
“I’ll ask my mom,” he smiles. “So we’re getting married?”
“in like a week,” she laughs, “oh fuck, how are we going to do that in a week?”
He rolls over and grabs his personal phone, he dials a number and she looks even more confused now.
“Hey Penelope, how fast can you plan a wedding?”
~
Permanent tag list:
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New Romantics:
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#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid request#criminal minds smut#criminal minds imagine#new romantics
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The Falcon and the Newlyweds
Summary: After Steve travels back in time to reunite you and Bucky, he retires as Captain America, but you’re just getting started. (aka exactly like TFATWS but better?)
A/N: All credits to original owners/writers of TFATWS series. Added details/characters and minor storyline changes are of my own imagination.
Word Count: 6.2k
And away, and away we go!
__
Episode 5
When Sam suggested the three of you go find John, you shook your head vehemently. “No. No, I don’t want to,” you whispered.
“Doll, we’re afraid we’re gonna hurt him, too,” Bucky admitted.
You still continued to shake your head. “I-I’m not worried about us… I-”
“Oh…” Bucky said in sad realization. “Oh, doll. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He lost control, and I think even he knows that. He’s still the idiot we hate. And yeah, by the looks of it he managed to snag a vial of the serum, which makes him like me now.” Bucky shuddered at the thought. “But someone needs to find him.”
“I don’t want to…”
“That’s okay. Sam and I can go. We can take you back to the apartment, and then Sam and I can go.”
“No. Bucky you can’t go.”
“I’m not letting Sam go by himself.”
You looked over at Sam, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Look, Y/N. I know you saw an ugly side to John. I get that fear. Okay? I do. Buck used to scare me the way John just scared you. But Buck’s right. Someone has to find him, and it’s better if we do it. And look, throughout all of this, have Buck and I ever let you get close to getting hurt?”
“No…”
“Exactly. And if it makes you feel better, Buck and I will do the talking. Just come with us so we know you’re not alone. Please?”
“Okay,” you finally nodded. “But please don’t fight him if you don’t have to.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say that, much less agree with it,” Bucky tried to joke. “Sam, you still got Sharon tracking him?”
“Yeah, c’mon.”
~~~
Sam led the way to a building that was closed off for construction, easily locating John inside. “Walker,” Sam started.
“You guys should see a medic,” John interrupted. “You don’t look so good.” Long gone was the high and mighty tone he usually addressed you all with. His tone was also void of any attitude or malice. It was chilling to see him looking and sounding so void.
“Stop, Walker,” Sam started again, as John started to walk past you all.
“What?” he scoffed, the attitude and raised voice coming out. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”
“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky said simply, keeping his own tone calm to not anger the other man, and cause another outburst of rage. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Sage advice from one previously unhinged super soldier to a currently unhinged one.
“I’m not like you,” John insisted.
Bucky gave a sad shake of his head, and you gripped his hand in yours reassuringly. If John didn’t want to listen to someone who’d been where’d he’d been, and under much worse conditions, that was on John, not Bucky.
“Listen,” Sam stepped in. “It was the heat of the battle, okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John, you gotta give me the shield, man.”
Slow realization swept across John’s face. “Oh… so that’s what this is. You almost got me. I should’ve known when she didn’t have any smartmouthed remarks for me.” His gaze swept over you, chillingly so.
“Mistakes happen,” you said, your voice quiet. “Let them help you so this doesn’t get worse.”
“You don’t wanna do this,” John said, his attention back on Bucky and Sam.
“Yeah, we do,” Bucky responded.
There was a momentary pause as Bucky and Sam looked at each other, and nodded. In a swift movement, Bucky guided you backwards with his arm, then advanced on John with Sam.
Two against one, you watched as Bucky and Sam tried to outfight John, punches and kicks flying in every direction, vibranium fist colliding with vibranium shield. You pressed yourself against a wall, making yourself as small as possible, heart hammering in your chest as you watched the scene unfold.
Any fear you had turned to blood boiling rage when John chucked the shield, nailing Bucky in the chest as sending him crashing backwards as John advanced, Sam lying on the floor from a hit he’d taken.
“Why are you making me do this?!” you heard John scream as he pressed the shield into Bucky, pinning him between the metal and construction vehicle. He grabbed the shield that Bucky had a firm grip on, throwing Bucky sideways across the warehouse.
Seeing red, you quietly reached down to pull out a knife. Aside from the shootout in Madripoor, you never needed to use any of the weapons strategically placed throughout your suit. And despite everything, you didn’t actually want to shoot John, mostly at the risk of missing and hitting either Bucky or Sam. But while John wasn’t exactly in stabbing range, and you weren’t all that amped to get into stabbing range, you could throw it.
With a slow breath, you adjusted the sharp steel in your hand. You took aim, chucking the knife with as much accuracy and force as you could, watching as the blade hurled end over end before sinking into John’s upper thigh, at the very convenient time that Sam flew straight into him. “This isn’t you, John,” Sam breathed heavily as both men stood face to face.
“We could’ve been a team…”
Not liking the way John didn’t appear ready to give up, Sam launched a rope that locked into the shield, engaging in a weirdly combative game of tug of war.
John lost his grip, and the rope came loose, the shield clattering against the ground. If you were fast enough, you could reach out and snag it. But with Bucky still on the ground himself, Sam holding back John for you didn’t inspire much confidence. Especially when both men dove for the shield themselves. But when Sam tackled John away from grabbing it, both men rolling further away from you, and the shield, you took your chance.
“I. Am. Captain America!” John screamed as he pinned Sam down, ripping Sam’s wings off his suit.
“No, you’re not!” you said, charging into John with the shield with all your might. John’s body rolled off Sam’s, and yours rolled with the shield, clinging on to it for all you were worth as you and John both staggered to your feet. “Shit,” you breathed with a happy grin. “That was cool!” Then, your eyes went wide, before you screwed them shut, raising the shield the block John advancing on you. “SHIT!” you screamed, bracing for impact.
The impact however, never came as Bucky jumped into action at the sound of your voice, raining blows down on John. “Don’t! You! Fuckin’! Touch! Her!” Each yelled word was a new hit, as Bucky fought John away from you.
“It’s mine,” John panted like a child who was being forced to share his favorite toy against his will.
“It’s over, John,” Sam told him.
“It’s mine!” John snarled, taking a swing at Bucky.
Bucky blocked it, grabbing the back of John’s neck with his vibranium hand, and punching him in the face with his other hand. “Y/N, shield!” Sam ordered.
Not needing to be told twice, you tossed Sam the shield as Bucky picked up John, and slammed him into the shield, the force of the impact sending all three men crashing to the floor in a chorus of groaned grunts of pain, the shield lying uselessly on the ground once more.
Bucky was the first to recover, grabbing the shield, and rising to his feet. Wordlessly, he walked over to Sam, dropping it next to him. The look on Bucky’s face said more than his mouth ever could, the anger that he had helped Sam get a shield he’d given up so easily needing no reason to be physically voiced. “C’mon, doll,” he said simply, turning and walking out of the building, leaving John and Sam where they lay.
“We’re not gonna leave Sam here, are we?” you asked in a whisper, jogging to keep up with your husband.
“Right now? Yes.”
“Bucky… It’s been a long day. And I know you still have your issues about Sam and the shield, and what it all means to you. But it’s Sam. He’s our friend, and partner whether you want him to be, or not.”
“I know,” Bucky answered you through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m only leaving him for right now. Now, let’s talk about you, and what you did.”
You sighed. “What? Are you gonna yell at me about how I should have kept my distance? How you and Sam told me not to engage with John, and how I didn’t even want to go in there in the first place, so I’m completely batshit for doing what I did? That I could have gotten hurt, or worse? I know all that, Bucky. So please, spare me the lecture.”
“That was half of it, yes…” he admitted. “But what you did was also incredibly smart, and got Sam the shield.”
You shrugged. “I just got mad, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but it got Sam the shield. And it potentially saved us too. John was… That’s not a fight I’m eager to have again, that’s for damn sure. Between that fight and the one earlier… Knowing that you’re okay, and Sam probably physically feels worse than I do right now is really the only thing helping me feel somewhat okay right now.”
“Well, let’s get back to the apartment, and I’ll patch you up like old times.”
Bucky smiled fondly at long buried memories. “Mmm. Nurse Y/N. I always liked her.”
~~~
“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli,” Sam reported over breakfast the next morning. “But so far, they only found her followers. They’ve searched a camp nearby, and just like the last camp they searched, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”
“Hey, you got your sleeve back,” Torres’ voice chirped as he walked into the living room, and you wondered briefly where he’d come from, but you figured he probably arrived when Sam did, and given him the full run down of the GRC’s movements, much like Sam was giving you and Bucky now. Torres pointed at Bucky’s left jacket sleeve, once again reattached to the jacket he was wearing. “No? Yeah… okay then…” Torres said to no one in particular as Bucky stood there in silence, with his trademark stoic stare.
Still silent, and clearly still angry with Sam, Bucky turned on his heel to exit the room. “Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam wondered.
“Alright, good to know you survived,” Torres chipped again in a goodbye of sorts as Bucky stalked off down the hallway.
“He’ll come around,” you said as a half-assed apology for Bucky. “He’s… ya know. So, what else do we need to know about the Karli situation? Or the John one?”
Sam shrugged, looking over at Torres. “What’s our next steps?”
“Captain America killing a foreign national in public? It’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately…”
“They’re taking jurisdiction,” Sam guessed.
“Yeah,” Torres nodded, his attention falling to a duffle bag at Sam’s feet that contained the snapped wings of his suit. “What happened to these?”
“So is there anything we can do?” you asked as Torres started examining the duffle bag.
“Not really. As I was telling Sam, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she’s laying extra low. Like under underground.”
“That’s why it makes sense for us to get involved,” Sam said. “The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her.”
“She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms,” Torres pointed out. “She’s really, really good at this thing.” He ran his hands carefully over the splintered wings. “How’d these break?”
“John,” you answered while Sam sighed, taking in all the information Torres was providing.
“Anyways,” Torres went on, “all we can do now is sit tight, and just chill. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, until there’s something to do.”
“That’s bizarrely wise,” Sam said with a small laugh.
“It means we can train,” you interjected. “Be prepared for whatever comes next.”
“The lady has a point,” Torres agreed with you, his eyes flickering longingly to the shield that lay on the table, remnants of the blood John had splattered on his now gone.
“Yeah, alright,” Sam nodded with a smile, looking at you. “Find your husband, and let’s get to work.”
Thankfully, all you had to do was turn your head, finding Bucky stalking back down the hallway with both yours and his suitcases in hand. “B- Oh, hey. We going somewhere?”
“Home. Well. Sam is. You and I are making a pit stop first.”
“So you finally found Zemo?” was Sam’s guess.
“I have an idea of where he might be, yeah.”
“You know, sometimes you still scare me Buck. The staring. The eerily calm voice. It’s creepy, man.”
“You wanna get to work, or not, Sam?”
~~~
The pit stop ended up being Sokovia, Bucky giving you a full rundown as to why he figured Zemo would be there on the flight over. He also told you of the plan he had. And sure enough, as the two of you walked up to the memorial site, Zemo was standing in front of it, his back facing you.
“I thought you’d be here sooner,” Zemo said as you and Bucky got within earshot. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”
“Imagine my relief,” Bucky deadpanned, finger clicking the safety of the gun he had ready at his side.
Zemo turned towards you both, unthreatened by Bucky’s action as his attention focused on you. “The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned you and Sam, but you wouldn’t listen. Just as stubborn as Steve was, the two of you.” His gaze shifted to Bucky. “But you. They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere. And there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Bucky answered, his face conveying no evidence of whether or not that statement was actually true. “But we’re gonna do it our own way.”
Zemo chuckled at what he believed to be the naivety of Bucky’s words. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d say that.”
The gun in Bucky’s hand clicked again as he loaded what you knew to be nothing, but Zemo rightfully assumed to be a bullet into the chamber, raising his hand, the barrel of the gun mere inches from Zemo’s forehead. Zemo went pale, but kept his composure calm, even nodding at Bucky like he was giving the man permission to pull the trigger.
You watched as Zemo sucked in his breath while Bucky pressed ever so lightly on the trigger. But all that came out of the gun was an empty clicking sound. Eyes still locked on Zemo, Bucky opened his other hand, the bullets clattering to the ground.
Silently, the Dora Milaje walked up, surrounding Zemo. “Ladies,” he greeted, before addressing Bucky one last time. “I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye James. It was nice getting to know you, Mrs. Barnes.”
Two of the Dora Milaje escorted Zemo away, while the third talked briefly with Bucky about their own plans for Zemo. “It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf,” she added as a small warning.
“Fair enough,” he nodded. Then, “Hey. I may have another favor to ask of you.”
~~~
After your visit with Zemo, you and Bucky headed home.
“Buck said you got a few good ones in on that new Cap guy. Good for you,” Steve smiled proudly.
“I did okay, I guess. Got out better than Bucky and Sam, that’s for sure,” you shrugged in modesty. “Have you heard from Sam?”
“Yeah, he got back a few days ago. But just as soon as he stopped by, he was gone again. Something about seeing the old man in Baltimore?”
“Bradley,” you and Bucky said in unison. “He’s uh… like you and me,” Bucky added as an extra explanation when Steve cocked his head in confusion. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, if that was a few days ago, where’s Sam now?” you asked.
Steve shrugged. “My guess? He went home to see his sister in Louisiana. You guys still not talking after what happened?”
You looked at Bucky, and shook your head. “No. Bucky won’t say it, but he’s still never forgiven Sam for giving up the shield in the first place. And now he’s even more mad he had to help Sam get it back, because-”
“None of this would have happened if he hadn’t given it up in the first place,” you and Steve gave your best Bucky impression together.
“1.) I don’t sound like that. And 2.) I’m right. None of this would have happened if Sam had kept the shield. Not the shit with Walker anyway.”
“But Sam’s still family. And we’re still Avengers. And we still have a job to finish with Karli,” you pointed out.
“What? So you want to go to Louisiana and find Sam?” Bucky asked you.
“That would be a start.”
“Doll, we just got home. Don’t you wanna be home for a bit?”
“Not when there’s still work to be done. And you and Sam gotta put this whole mess behind you once and for all, because all Riga proved was that it takes all three of us working together to take down John.”
“And that barely worked,” he reminded you.
“Which is also why we all need to train together. Not you training me here while Sam does God knows what in Louisiana. We need to be an actual team here, Bucky.”
Bucky sighed. “Alright. I’ll book us a flight first thing tomorrow, okay?”
“Why not book it right now?”
Bucky looked at Steve, clearing his throat before leaning in close to your ear. “Because of reasons I can’t say in front of your brother, doll.”
Your eyes went wide and your cheeks turned bright red at Bucky’s insinuation while Steve clapped his hands loudly together. “Okay. I think we’re done here.”
~~~
You’re sure we’re in the right place?” you asked Bucky as you approached a dock crowded with people and supplies.
Bucky only nodded as he climbed in the back of a truck lifting a huge pallet with ease at the same time you heard Sam’s voice wonder “How do we get it off the truck?”
“You’re welcome,” Bucky said as he set the pallet aside, turning to see Sam’s shocked expression.
“Surprise,” you grinned, waggling your fingers in a wave at Sam.
Sam stepped around the truck to get closer to you and Bucky, the shock on his face now a questioning look.
Bucky set a suitcase down on the bed of the truck. “Just dropping this off. Sign for it, and we’ll go.”
“Bucky,” you hissed under your breath. This was not part of your plan at all.
“I called in a favor from the Wakandans,” Bucky explained to Sam.
Before Sam could say anything in response, or you could berate Bucky under your breath again, a pipe started hissing loudly, and a woman was rushing over. “Sam!”
Sam wasted no time in rushing over to assess what the damage to the pipe was and how to go about fixing it, grabbing a nearby wrench as the woman looked at you and Bucky.
“Hi,” you smiled at her.
“Hi,” she smiled back.
Bucky sighed, watching what Sam was doing before going over. “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He took the wrench from Sam, pushing him out of the way, quickly tightening to the loose bolt on the pipe until it stopped hissing.
“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam asked as Bucky set the wrench aside.
Bucky thought about it for a second, looking at the vibranium appendage. “Well, I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed. So, this is the boat, huh?”
“This is it,” Sam nodded.
“It’s nice,” Bucky complimented. “You want any help?”
Sam looked at Bucky, sighing deeply. “Yeah…”
You and the woman looked over at Bucky and Sam, rolling your eyes. “Men…” you muttered. Then, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
“Sarah,” she smiled back. “Friends of Sam’s, I take it?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Mmm,” she nodded, her eyes roaming over Bucky. “And who are you?”
“I’m Bucky,” he grinned charmingly at her.
Sam punched him in the right arm as hard as he could.
“Ow! What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky growled, rubbing at his arm.
“What is it with you and people’s sisters, man? How did Steve not beat your ass?”
Sarah’s eyes went wide as she looked at you, yours and Bucky’s name clicking in familiarity. “Oh!” she said, a hand covering her mouth as she looked at you, “I’m so sorry!”
You howled with laughter as Sam hit Bucky in the arm some more. “Seriously?! How did Steve not obliterate your ass?”
“He was like a foot shorter and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Bucky shrugged. “Now will you stop hitting me? Doll!” He turned to you with puppy dog eyes to help him. “Weren’t you the one saying I needed to learn to be friendlier to people?”
“Friendlier, not flirtier,” you clarified, tears rolling down your cheeks from how hard you were still laughing. “Now help Sam with the damn boat, Sergeant Charmer.”
It was an interesting morning watching Bucky and Sam work on the boat, while you helped Sarah in the house making meals. “It’s probably a good thing Bucky’s from another time,” she commented as she caught you staring dreamily out the window for the millionth time.
“How do you mean?”
“A man that looks like that, and knows it? In today’s society? Not usually a good mix.”
“Oh, those types have always existed,” you said with a small chuckle. “Bucky and Steve used to fight them quite a bit.”
“And you? Having to fight off the hoards of women that no doubt threw themselves at a man like that?”
You laughed again. “Very rare occurrences. Bucky is, uh… attentive that way, I guess.”
“Well, you’re lucky to have a husband like Bucky. Men like that are hard to come by, believe me.”
“Oh, I know. Funny thing is, if you ask Bucky, he’d say he’s the lucky one.”
“Well, lunch is about done if you wanna bring these plates out to them for me.”
You thanked her, loading the plates up in your arms before walking outside and over to where Bucky and Sam were. “Lunch time!” you called out.
Both of their heads swiveled in your direction, Bucky clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, a woman after my own heart.”
“Sarah made lunch, I just helped,” you told him, handing him a plate.
Sam snickered, taking his own plate from you, “Thanks for helping her,” he told you, then in a louder voice that was almost a shout, “Thank you, Sarah!”
“You think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” Bucky asked, as you all took a spot and dug into your lunch.
Sam shook his head as he swallowed his bite of food. “I think she’s gonna double down.”
“Any idea on how to stop her?”
“I got Torres working on something.”
“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.”
You all said nothing for a minute, eating your lunch and thinking quietly to yourselves before Bucky broke the silence. “Well. Y/N and I gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Gonna get a hotel room for the night. Crash, ya know?”
“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”
“Well, there’s two of us. We don’t wanna impose, or anything. I really just came to give you that,” Bucky nodded at the suitcase the Wakandans have given him for Sam.
Sam snorted. “Like Y/N didn’t all but march your ass on the plane to get here. So just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt-” Sam rambled.
“Okay,” Bucky cut him off with a chuckle. “I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”
You and Sam laughed too, before Sam pointed at Bucky, “But don’t flirt with my sister.”
“Why would I do that?”
Sam looked at you, “He doesn’t get it, does he?”
You shook your head, “He never really did.”
“What don’t I get?”
“It’s how you interact with women in general, Bucky. They find you charming,” you explained. “Niceness is mistaken as interest.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous.”
“Just keep the charm around my sister in check, or I’ll help Y/N cut you up, and feed you to the fish.”
Bucky rolled his eyes.
~~~
That night, instead of a hotel, you and Bucky slept in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house, while Sam offered to take the couch.
Both of you awoke to the sounds of Sarah’s sons making a ruckus down the hall, and Sam’s tired call out of “Hey!”
You rolled on your side, to find Bucky already looking at you with a smile on his face. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” you asked, kissing his nose.
His shoulders shrugged. “Something about this is nice. Waking up next to you in a house. Sound of kids.”
You gasped softly in a teasing manner. “James Barnes, are you saying you want a quiet domestic life?”
He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “You knew that was what I wanted. What our lives were supposed to be like when I got home. You wanted the same thing too, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. I still do. I just didn’t know you still did, given how much everything’s changed.”
“For a while I didn’t. My focus was… elsewhere. But it’s been something that’s been on my mind again since you’ve been back. But I wanted to give us both time to adjust. Catch up for lost time, just me and you. And then… ya know. But yeah. This,” he twirled a finger about the room, and the sounds of the house coming alive, “is still something I want.”
“Well, it’s still something I want, too.”
His kiss was heavy with need as his lips crashed into yours. “God, I love you.”
~~~
The shield bit deeply into the tree Sam hurled it at. “Son of a b-” he muttered, dashing over to wedge it free.
“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Bucky told him.
“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Sam repeated in a mocking tone.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I got an idea.”
The idea ended up being taking rubber mats to bound around the trees, Sam giving it a test once they were done. The shield bounced off the mat, flying straight back to Sam who caught it with ease. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “That’s way better.”
“How’s the shield part feel?” you asked.
“That part feels weird.” He launched it again, the shield ricocheting off one mat into another before Bucky caught it. “The legacy of that shield,” Sam continued, “is complicated to say the least.”
“When Steve told us what he was planning, I don’t think any of us really understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?” Bucky spoke up.
You and Sam shared a look, Sam jerking a thumb at you, “Well, I understood. And so did she. But glad you’re finally catching up.”
Bucky sighed, “Fine. I didn’t understand. Point is, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He lifted the arm the shield was on towards Sam for Sam to take.
“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, taking the shield.
“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault,” Bucky went on to say. “I get it. It’s just… that shield… For a while it was the closest thing I had to a family. Or it was a huge part in me getting my family back anyway. Because if Steve never took it up in the first place… Well, when you retired it, it felt like giving up. Made me question everything. Like first Steve retired. Then you retired the shield. Everything that saved me was done. Like I was nothing but a completed mission.”
You and Sam stayed quiet, letting Bucky spill out the confession he now found the words to express. But after a long enough pause on Bucky’s end, you reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I know both Steve, and the shield mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t define you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “You are not who you are because of Steve. He might have helped, but he is not the reason. You are. You’re the one who put in the work.”
“She’s right,” Sam agreed with you. “You gotta stop looking at other people to tell you who you are. Let me ask you, you still having those nightmares?”
“All the time,” Bucky nodded. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”
“You up for a little tough love? You wanna climb out of that hell you’re in, keep doing the work.”
“I’ve been making my amends.”
Sam scoffed. “No. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. And teaching Y/N in the process. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier because you thought it would bring you closure. But if it actually was, then your nightmares wouldn’t be happening. At least not with the frequency they still do.”
Bucky looked at you, both of you thinking about Yori back home. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore if you’re gonna blab everything I tell you to him.”
You smiled, knowing he was only teasing. “We’re a team, Bucky. Looking out for each other is what we do.”
Bucky shook his head. “Definitely not a team.”
“Nope,” Sam agreed with Bucky.
“We’re not that good,” Bucky laughed.
“Definitely not,” Sam agreed again.
“We’re professionals.”
“Definitely.”
“And uh… partners?”
“Coworkers.”
“But, we’re also a couple guys with a mutual friend.”
“But the friend’s now gone,” Sam pointed out.
“So we’re a couple of guys.”
“I can live with that.”
“Perfect.”
You snorted at their boyish back and forth antics. “The word you’re looking for is ‘family’ actually,” you interjected.
“Just uh… call us when you have a lead on Karli, and we’ll be there,” Bucky told Sam.
“Yep. And uh, thanks for the help. Meant a lot.”
“Course,” Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, and you and Sam gave each other a quick hug. “C’mon, doll. We got a flight to catch.”
~~~
Back home with no idea for how long, you and Bucky set to work on a more rigorous training for you.
Mornings quickly became filled with drilling you in various hand-to-hand combat techniques in which Bucky barely broke a sweat, and you ended up drenched in enough of your own for the both of you.
While you relished in your morning routine with Bucky, it was the afternoons you found particularly interesting after you came out of the bedroom to find Bucky sitting in front of his laptop. “Whatcha looking at?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you peered at the house listings on the computer screen.
“Domestic dreaming,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen as he patted the sofa cushion next to him for you to join him.
“Oh, so when you said you still wanted this, you meant you wanted it now,” you teased as you moved around him to take the offered seat.
He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. Thanks to Stark, everyone that’s still around is pretty well off. And I forget when exactly, but at some point Steve and I were able to get our GI funds.”
“That’s nice,” you noted, now understanding why finances had never seemed to be an issue despite neither of you actually working.
“Yeah. And I figured raising a family in a shoebox apartment isn’t part of that domestic dream. So…”
“So here we are,” you supplied.
“So here we are,” he repeated with a nod. “Oh, this one looks nice,” he said, clicking on one of the options.
“It is,” you agreed, watching as Bucky clicked through the pictures of the 3 bedroom home. “Big enough to raise a family. Small enough to not be obnoxious.”
“Mhm,” Bucky murmured, the mouse hovering over the link to schedule a viewing. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grinned.
After that, it wasn’t uncommon for yours and Bucky’s afternoons to be filled with meeting with realtors and attending open houses, weighing all your options in the evenings. And with the type of dedication Bucky had towards house hunting, it wasn’t long at all until you found a place you both fell in love with.
“C’mon, doll,” he roused you one morning like he always did. “Gotta go train.”
Normally you bounded out of bed, excited for a new day of training exercises, but today you swatted a hand at him, batting him away. “No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head, and turning away from him, the action making your stomach roll. You let out a long, low groan.
“You feeling alright?” he asked, his voice taking on a note of concern. Hands pulled the blanket from your face, before he was feeling your forehead, checking for any unusual warmth. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he noted with a frown.
“Gonna be sick,” you announced, springing from bed and racing for the bathroom.
Bucky followed worriedly, one hand pulling your hair out of your face, the other rubbing soothingly at your back as you dry-heaved into the toilet. “Okay, no training today. We do have the meeting with the realtor later to sign the last of the papers and get the keys. But I can ask Steve to come keep you company while I go do that if you’re not up for it.”
“No,” you said, shaking your head and rising shakily to your feet. “You don’t have to bother Steve. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”
“Well, let me at least help you back to bed, and make you some breakfast, okay?”
“Fine,” you conceded, letting him support your weight as he led you back to bed. “But I’m not hungry,” you told him as you pulled the blanket close around you in bed.
“Not hungry, or worried you’ll be sick if you eat?” he questioned the validity of your statement.
You stuck your tongue out at him.
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “At least try to eat some toast for me? Maybe having something in your stomach will help.”
“If you get it to me before I fall back asleep, I’ll try,” was your compromise.
Quickly, Bucky raced into the kitchen, as you closed your eyes wondering why you suddenly felt so miserable. When you’d been sick in the past, there’d always been signs leading up to it. But this sickness had caught you completely off guard.
“Gotta sit up for me, doll,” Bucky’s voice had you opening your eyes again, spotting him standing next to you with a plate in his hand.
You groaned, sitting up against the headboard and taking a begrudging bite of the toast.
He chuckled again. “I forgot how stubborn you get when you’re sick. Way more than you normally are.”
“Not sure how not wanting to vomit toast, and wanting to sleep makes me stubborn, but okay,” you said, taking another slow bite.
“Aren’t there usually signs before you get sick? I thought there used to be signs.”
“There are signs. Or there’s supposed to be. I dunno what the heck is happening.”
His brows pulled together in curious confusion. “You’re not…” his eyes shifted to look at your stomach pointedly. “Are you?”
Your eyes went wide at the suggestion, before you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe?”
“Shit…”
“Would it be bad if I was?”
“No!” he rushed. “God no. Just…”
“We talked about all of this back in the forties, it became irrelevant for decades, and now that we started talking about the possibility of it all again, it’s all happening at once.”
“And we still have the Karli situation, yeah. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Do you want me to run down to the pharmacy?”
“Please?”
Ten minutes later, Bucky held you tight as you waited on the test lying on the bathroom counter with wide and tearful eyes. “Holy shit…” you both breathed in unison, as a small plus sign appeared in the result window. “Holy shit!”
__
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Companions React: Holding hands with Sole for the first time.
Request: "Hey I took a look at your other two stories and they're really good :D I can't wait to see more from you. ☺️ Could you do how the companions react to holding hands with sole for the first time? And could you make it extra fluffy for x6-88, preston, and hancock please? ❤️"
CW: Food mentions. Idk why so many of these involved food.
Cait:
“Hey! Watch it, will ya’?” Cait shouted indignantly at a passing trader as their Brahmin nearly knocked her over.
Sole reached out and pulled her back swiftly, her hand gripped tightly in theirs to help her keep balance. “Careful. They don’t tend to share the road around here. Important people, traders.” They joked, threading their fingers through hers.
“Important my arse.” Cait glared menacingly after the trader before redirecting their attention. “And what do ya think you’re doin’?” She lifted their joined hands, however she didn’t let go.
“Oh, sorry! I just wanted to make sure you didn’t lose your balance.”
Sole began to loosen their grip, but Cait tightened her grip in return. “Well don’t go gettin’ cold feet on me now. You started this.”
Sole very politely ignored the slight flush on her cheeks as she began to pull them towards the food stands. “You’re buyin’ in exchange for my lovely company.”
Curie:
While it could be quite cute, Curie’s habit of wandering off in the name of scientific discovery had resulted in far too many moments of Sole having to stop what they were doing and go search for her and whatever had caught her attention in the moment as soon as they realized she was gone. Luckily, this time, Curie exclaimed, “Oh, mon dieu!”
This caught Sole’s attention and they quickly grasped her hand to keep her from wandering off. “Let’s go let Daisy know we’ve done what she’s asked and then we can go check out the water purification system, okay?”
“Oh! Of course.” Curie smiled warmly, interlocking their fingers properly. “Lead the way!”
After a beat, as they made their way to Daisy’s shop together, Curie spoke again, her tone softer and a shy smile on her face. “I quite like this system of keeping track of each other, I think.”
“I do, too. Do you want to stop by Diamond City for Power Noodles after asking about the water purification system?”
“Yes, please! I’d like to ask the vendor about the components to his operation.”
Danse:
Sole groaned, facedown on their bed on the Prydwen. “Let’s get a move on, Soldier. Elder Maxson himself requested you transfer shifts to the first patrol.”
“It’s four in the morning, Paladin. I appreciate Elder Maxson’s faith but I reserve my right to complain when he’s not around.”
Danse frowned from where he was standing in the doorway. “You should consider this an honor.”
“I do, Danse. Of course I do. But four in the morning?” Sole attempted to roll over and stand up, but instead got their legs tangled in the blanket and fell to the floor.
He sighed, staring down at them in mild disappointment. “Would you like assistance getting up?”
“Yes please.”
Danse crossed the room and leaned down, grasping Sole’s outstretched arms and staring sternly at their pouting face. He pulled them up carefully, steadying them when they stumbled as they untangled themself from their blanket. “You slept in your uniform.” He stated plainly.
“I had to wake up at four as it is. I’m doing what I can. Adapt, right? I’m following your advice, Paladin. Now let’s go get breakfast, please, I’m starving.”
The pair made it halfway down the hall before Danse realized that Sole had never released their grip on his hand. His face flushed beet red as they led the way to the dining hall, the pathways empty. They seemed to be the only ones awake. “Soldier-” He coughed awkwardly. “-your hand?”
Sole slowed down and glanced at him. “Do you mind?”
He paused. “Proceed.” He said in a low tone, avoiding eye contact.
Deacon:
Deacon was quiet. Deacon was never quiet, unless they were in the middle of a fight, and even then usually he was making witty comments in between gunshots. He and Sole were trekking across the Commonwealth, headed to Sanctuary to rest after running to hell and back for the Railroad. “Alright, Deacon. What gives?” Sole stopped and turned to him.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re quiet. You’re never quiet.”
“I’ll have you know I make a great brooding, mysterious stranger.” Deacon gave them an indignant look.
“Yeah, when you’re undercover maybe. But not with me. So what’s up?”
Deacon sighed and gave in, surprising Sole. Usually, no matter how long they pushed, he remained steeled in his self-confidence and energetic personality. “Just a long day, Boss. Don’t worry about it.” He started walking, letting them know the conversation was over with.
Sole pressed their lips together briefly before jogging to catch up with him and grabbing his hand, swinging it dramatically between the two. Deacon laughed quietly and allowed them to continue their antics. “You know, if you wanted to hold my hand you could’ve just asked, Boss.”
Cheerfully, Sole bumped their shoulder against his. “Where’s the fun in that? Plus, I got you to laugh, didn’t I?”
Deacon groaned. “My facade, it’s shattered!” He cried dramatically as he pretended to stumble. Sole threw their head back and laughed, and Deacon hid his grin.
“This is a very serious issue, Boss, I can’t believe your lack of professionalism.”
“Oh, of course, I’m so very sorry Deacon. Let me know what we can do to solve this issue and I’ll let go of your hand. To keep up professionalism.”
Deacon never got back to them on that, and kept his fingers threaded through theirs the entire way back to Sanctuary.
Gage:
“Look, I’m all for your gung ho attitude of dealing with things, but we’re outnumbered by those things. As much as it hurts to say, we shouldn’t run in guns ablaze.” Gage muttered under his breath.
He and Sole were crouched against a wall in the Nuka World Bottling Plant, up to their waists in diluted soda that had definitely been there way too long. A good handful of Mirelurks had nested just around the corner; Sole could hear them clicking their pinchers together. “You’re right.” Sole sighed. “We need a plan to get back to the exit.”
Gage was still surprised every time the Overboss took his advice seriously. “We’re cornered here, Boss. Unless you have some Stealth Boys on you-”
“Do you trust me?” Sole interjected.
“Christ, I guess so. What’re you thinkin’?”
“When I count to three we run.”
“What? That’s your fuckin’ plan?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I swear to God, if you get us killed.” Gage muttered. “Alright, fine.”
Sole counted under their breath, just loud enough for Gage to hear, as they attempted to avoid the echo that the large tunnels would cause. As soon as they reached three, both they and Gage took off in a sprint, fighting against the soda-water that threatened to slow them down. Things were going great until Gage’s foot caught against something under the water and sent him face first into the river.
As soon as he hit the water he was back up again, Sole yanking him as hard as possible up and forward at their breakneck pace. “I’ve got you!” They shouted over the angry screeches from the Mirelurks that had just caught sight of them.
Sole grappled at his hand until they found purchase and kept charging forward. They sent a shot towards an approaching Mirelurk and the bullet lodged firmly in the Mirelurk’s body. This bought them enough time to get a few feet ahead and after a brief struggle with the sticky door mechanism, the pair launched themself past the frame and slammed the door behind them.
Chests heaving, they leaned against the metal door, eyes squinted to ward off the blazing sun that glared down at them. “I fuckin’ hate this place.” Gage spat saliva and soda down onto the cracked pavement in front of them.
Sole merely laughed. Gage turned to them in astonishment, wondering just how batshit the new Overboss really was, but said nothing, his hand still gripped in theirs. Their eyes were closed as their shoulders shook, their chest heaving as they tried to catch their breath. “I do too, to be honest. Hated it ever since that stupid maze.”
Gage paused and let out a small chuckle himself. He shook off their hand as casually as he could, but turned and reached to light a cigarette to hide the way his mouth quirked up in the corner. He dug through the bag attached to his hip before cursing loudly. “My shit’s soaked!”
Sole only laughed louder.
Hancock:
“Y’know, sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Running Goodneighbor.” Hancock’s voice came out gravelly.
He and Sole had found a rooftop to settle on after travelling for the day. They had found a couple of lounge chairs and dragged them up the flights of stairs, and told Hancock to sit while they unpacked enough food for dinner. Luckily, they had traded for a few Radstag steaks, which they had started grilling over a makeshift fire. Hancock’s statement caught their attention enough for them to stop what they were doing. “What do you mean?” They asked.
Hancock wasn’t sure if he was too high for his own good, but he swore their voice was softer when they spoke to him, compared to the assertiveness they used for everyone else. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed them. The fire flickered, a bright, warm contrast to the setting sun behind them. “Dunno. I just worry that I’m gettin’ a little top stern with everyone. Goodneighbor isn’t meant to be another Diamond City.”
They thought for a moment, their eyebrows creased. Hancock couldn’t help the way he smiled as he watched them turn the steaks over contemplatively. “Do you want my opinion?”
“Always, sweetheart.”
Sole suppressed their own smile. “I think a good leader would listen to his people and their opinions. A great leader goes out and gains perspective to truly understand what they go through and where they’re coming from. You do both, so I think that makes you a fantastic leader.” They stood from where they were crouching next to the fire and moved to sit next to him.
The sun crept lower on the horizon. They reached over and took his hand to get his attention, not knowing it was hard for Hancock to focus on anything other than them. “I mean it, Hancock. Really. Not many people these days pay as much attention as you do. The fact that you decided to take a step back to make sure you were doing right by your people proves that.”
“Careful, now, you’ll make me blush with all that flattery.”
They laughed quietly but didn’t respond. As the evening quieted further, the birds no longer chirped but settled into their nests and the sun nearly set, they began to swipe their thumb back and forth over the back of Hancock’s hand. Carefully, they raised their entwined hands and pressed their lips to his knuckles. “You trying to flatter me more?” Hancock kept his tone cautiously flirtatious.
Sure, he flirted with them some. Okay, a lot. But never had he thought they would take him seriously, much less respond in kind. Not that he was complaining. “Is it working?” They asked quietly, their lips brushing against his rough skin as they spoke, looking up at him through their lashes. Jesus Christ, they were gonna be the death of him.
“Dunno yet. Why don’t you keep trying and I’ll get back to you on that.”
Hancock wasn’t sure whether it was the Jet or the grin that spread across their face that made him so lightheaded.
MacCready:
“Relax, Mac. We’re just a couple of Settlers.” Sole said quietly, their tone soothing.
They had insisted on doing a bit of recon on the Gunners once they had gotten intel that they were coming to Diamond City for supplies. Mac was positive they were going to be called out at any moment. After all, the Gunners had probably put word out to all of their factions that he was on their watchlist.
Sole had given him completely different clothes, mussed up his hair, and provided a bandana to hide most of his face in order for him to blend in. Lucky for them, there had been a nasty dust storm just yesterday and they weren’t the only ones hiding their faces. They had seated themselves at Power Noodles and begun watching for the Gunners.
As soon as they arrived Mac tensed. He wasn’t one for acting, that was Deacon’s job from what he’d heard, and knowing that people who were out for his blood were so close had him on edge. A few minutes passed as a pair of Gunners made their way to the counter and ordered before sitting and chatting. Sole kept their eyes on MacCready, but it was obvious to him their attention was directed to the conversation taking place behind them.
It was clear to them MacCready wasn’t gonna last much longer, and they didn’t blame him. They’d heard stories about the Gunners and what they were willing to do to get their way. His body language was becoming more and more obvious the longer they sat there before Sole snapped their attention back to him and nodded. It was time to go, they got what they wanted. They slid off their stool casually and slid their hand into Mac’s to get his attention.
He flushed under his bandana but followed suit, hopping off his stool and allowing them to lead him towards the back of the stands. Their hands were distractingly soft and as the distance between them and the Gunners grew he felt himself relax a bit more. They stopped him once they had reached the stands and no one was in sight.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” His voice was quiet and Sole squeezed his hand sympathetically.
MacCready felt himself blush again and squeezed their hand back before letting go. “Uh- I. Thanks. For that.” He looked away from them and scratched the back of his neck.
“Anytime, Mac.”
‘Do you mean that?’ He almost asked, biting his tongue to stop himself. It was just to blend in and get him away from the Gunners. Right?
Nick:
It was nearly midnight and Nick, not needing sleep, was still filling out paperwork. Sole had insisted they were going to stay up with him to help, but they were obviously nodding off to his left. He sighed and set down his pencil, turning towards them. “You know you can go rest.” He had repeated this about ten times already that night.
Sole’s voice was groggy when they replied, “No, I said I would help.”
Nick stood from his chair and gathered a few files. He knew the only way they would go to bed is if he dragged them there himself and implied that he was done working for the night. “Look, you can head to bed, I’m going to put these where they belong and then go read.”
Sole cracked one of their eyes open and then shook their head. They pressed their fingertips to their eyes before blinking rapidly and picking up their pencil, beginning to reread what they had written so far. Nick held out his hand over their paper, directly in their line of sight. “Go to bed, Sole. You can barely stay awake.”
Grumbling to themself, Sole took his hand and allowed him to help them up. He led their stumbling figure to their bed, which he had gotten specifically for nights like this. He kept their hand in his to help them balance as they reached down and tugged their shoes off, then plopped down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. Their voice was quiet when they asked, “Stay? I-” They stopped themselves from explaining.
It had been a brutal week and they’d had a few close calls. It dawned on him. Of course they didn’t want to sleep; they didn’t want to be alone. Nick nodded and didn’t let go of their hand as they laid back and he settled into the armchair beside their bed. Their breaths evened out swiftly and he settled the stack of files in his lap, returning to fill out the files with his available hand.
Piper:
“Knock knock!” Sole called into the Publick Occurrences building as they stepped in.
Nat leapt up from where she and Piper were sitting on the couch and barreled into Sole, flinging her arms around their waist. “Hey Nat.” They laughed, hugging her tightly.
“Hey Sole, what brings you to our part of the Commonwealth? Picking up some goods from Myrna?” Piper got up from the couch, moving to greet her friend.
“You didn’t tell her?” They asked Nat.
Nat shook her head sheepishly. “Ask me what?” Piper’s tone grew suspicious.
“I was gonna take her for lunch and told her to ask you if it was alright.”
Piper raised an eyebrow at Nat. “I forgot.” She muttered, gaze directed at the floor.
“Tell you what. Let’s all go, I’ll buy. It gives you a chance to take a break from editing, Piper.”
Piper found it hard to say no in face of Sole’s easygoing grin. She nodded her assent and slipped her shoes on, watching as Sole helped Piper into her coat, fondness overtaking her stern expression. “Are we ready?” They asked cheerfully.
“Looks like it. Nat, hold Sole’s hand for safety, okay? There’s been a lot of new traders coming in and we don’t need you getting lost.”
“What about you?” Sole asked jokingly. “I’d better hold onto you, too, I’d hate to lose you.”
Piper stammered, suddenly finding interest in the dirt on her boots. “Oh. Uh- yeah. I mean- yeah, that’s fine. Sure.”
Sole’s grin grew as they headed out. As soon as the door was locked behind them, they took Piper’s hand and the trio made their way across Diamond City for their meal. Piper never really got her ability to form sentences back while her hand was in Sole’s. Safely.
Preston:
“Where are we headed, General?” Preston asked, striding to stand next to them.
Sole had put out word that they wanted to see Preston for ‘something extremely important’ earlier that morning and had requested he find her later in the evening in the garden. The garden was a great source of pride for Sole, as they had built the thriving area quite literally from the ground up. They stood near the fence, rinsing tatos under the faucet, and glanced up when Preston spoke. “Good to see you, Preston. Let me finish this up and then we can head inside.”
Truth be told, he was nervous. Sole was usually quite direct with why they wanted to see him, but it seemed they had remained intentionally vague. He was sure they were headed somewhere, possibly to help out another settlement, but that didn’t explain why they weren’t communicating their motives like they usually did.
He shifted uncertainly as they finished rinsing the tatos, piled them in their basket, and moved towards the garden gate. Preston jumped to action and pulled it open for them, anxious to do something. He followed them quietly as they moved to the connected house and pulled open the door. They gestured him inside before they led him to the kitchen and set the basket down. He began to wonder what to do with himself when they asked, “Have you had pasta before. Not Power Noodles, but pasta?”
“Um… what?” Preston stared at them in confusion. “No, I can’t say I have.”
“Come here, I’ll teach you how to make it.”
“Of course, but I have to ask General, why did you want to see me?”
Sole smiled. “You deserve a night off. You’ve been working hard lately- it didn’t escape my notice -and I figured you wouldn’t take a break if I didn’t give you something else to do. So I’ll teach you how to make pasta. We just harvested razorgrain today, so there’s plenty.”
So Preston stepped into their kitchen, a little more certain of himself with that weight off his shoulders, and listened intently as they gave him instructions. They ground the razorgrain into a fine powder with Sole’s makeshift mortar and pestle, split a Mirelurk egg in half, and added it to the flour. As they continued their pasta-making-mission, Skeeter Davis’ voice rang out quietly from the nearby radio, and Preston found himself more at ease than he had been in a while.
The evening moved swiftly into night as the pair sat on Sole’s couch, trading stories over their home cooked meal. Passing settlers turned as Sole’s laughter rang out through the air every now and then, Preston’s following soon after each time. The conversation lasted long into the night before the pair grew quiet and simply listened to the crackling fire that kept the evening chill at bay.
Sole reached out carefully and interlocked their fingers with Preston’s, catching his attention as he glanced from their hands to their face, eyes wide. “Is this okay?” They asked quietly.
Preston nodded and squeezed their hand, an infectious smile crossing his face, to which Sole began smiling as well. Sole began telling another story of their adventures as Preston sunk back into the couch. He’d felt a little selfish thinking it, but he understood why people enjoyed taking breaks.
X6-88:
“I hate it. Six, this is awful.” Sole gripped the rail that lined the glass walkway at the very top of the Institute, staring down in horror.
“The pathways were built to Institute standards. They are perfectly sound.” X6 replied patiently, having gone through this before.
“It’s glass! I don’t trust it. There’s a reason I’ve never come up here! The lower walkways are bad enough.”
X6 stifled his impatience before reaching out and prying their hands off the railing. “Six!” They cried, grasping onto his hand desperately.
He pulled them closer to him, putting his arm around their shoulders with their hand still firmly attached to his, and began guiding them towards the elevator at the end of the pathway. Externally, as usual, he had set his face in a stern expression. However, he found himself suppressing a sense of smug satisfaction at the turn of events.
Once they reached the elevator, he forced himself to begin unwinding himself from Sole. As soon as he began loosening his grip and lifting his arm, Sole grabbed back onto him. “Not yet.” They stared down, just as tense, as the elevator began descending slowly. X6 didn’t protest, and settled his arm back onto their shoulders, their hand gripped firmly in his.
#thank you again for your request#fallout 4 companions react#fallout 4 blurb#fallout 4 imagines#deacon#preston garvey#piper#x6-88#RJ MacCready#Paladin Danse#Cait#Curie#Hancock#Mayor Hancock#fo4
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if the world was ending | mitch rapp
word count; 5152
summary; mitch broke up with you because he couldn’t handle being in love again, and now he regrets that decision, and would do anything to take it back.
notes; this is a song fic, but I didn’t include all of the lyrics, so don’t send me asks about missing chunks, please! check out the song!
warnings; smut, unprotected sex.
I was distracted, and in traffic
I didn't feel it when the earthquake happened,
But it really got me thinkin'
Were you out drinkin'?
Were you in the living room
Chillin', watching television?
His key would continuously seem to miss the lock on the door, and Mitch let out a low growl, shoving at the metal once again as he tried to force the lock to work, blurry eyes and exhaustion taking him over. Before he could question it, the door was opening from the inside, metal shifting and gears clicking before the wood was moving from his sights to reveal you instead, a bright smile on your face and one of his black henleys on your shoulders, hanging slightly loose around the open collar as it faded away into a pair of sleep shorts and fluffy socks clad on bare legs.
You were a sight for sore eyes, messy hair and teasing grin, and all.
“You didn’t even check who it was, what if I’d been an intruder?” He chastised, stumbling forwards one tired legs and pressing a kiss to your lips, humming happily as you pressed back into him just as eagerly, before he was kicking the door shut behind himself and dropping his bag down by the front door.
“An intruder with a key?” You raised your brows at him, his lips flicking up at the sides as his shoes followed; phone, wallet and keys all being discarded onto the side unit, and his eyes were locking onto the couch, joy filling him at the idea of laying down. “Not that you know how to use it, apparently.”
“You try using a key after six days in Russia with no sleep and having to fight, like, four people at once. Everything hurts.” You placed a hand on his chest to stop him in his movements as he edged toward the couch, a whine falling from him as he turned to look at you.
“You’re covered in blood, you’ll ruin my cushions, you need to wash up first.” He let out another sigh, despite knowing that it was a true and fair request, and nodded his head. “How about I run us a hot bath? I’ll put those bath salts in that make your muscles all tingly, and I’ll wash your hair for you.”
He nodded, a wave of serenity already washing over him simply at the idea that he’d get to relax in the warmth of the water, his back pressed to your chest as you wrapped around him from behind, holding him close. You were always so good at making him feel safe when he came home, and he knew it was one of the reasons he’d fallen for you in the first place. What was intended to be a simple fling to satisfy the cravings for basic affections and the lust deep in his gut had become much more.
He had a key to your apartment, and the cat the roamed the halls was friendly enough to bump its head against his shins and purr. He’d met your friends, and knew the names of every worker in that Thai place down the street that you loved so much, and they knew him. It had been so easy to slip into something more deep and meaningful with you, but there was still a clawing guilt in his stomach every time. The true intentions he’d had that night when he’d bought you a drink in a shitty bar while you wore a tight dress and danced under low lights, not to woo you and love you but simply to find a quick fuck, someone to warm his bed and quash the loneliness for a little while.
He hated that he couldn't give you what you needed, that he wasn’t able to love you, because he just didn’t know how anymore. Every time he came home and went to your place instead of his, the key he held and the emotion in your eyes every time you looked at it, it was only a matter of time before you said those three little words to him that he couldn't say back, and everything he so deeply craved would come crashing and burning down at his feet once again. Warmth would shift to icy chills and he’d have locked himself out once again, because commitment just wasn’t something he was capable of anymore.
The water was running, gentle hands skimming up his sides as you helped him to undress, his own hands working over soft skin as he pushed your clothing to the floor, mouths melding in soft kisses, fingertips leaving goosebumps over flesh as you embraced one another’s touch once again, and even with the respite from his guilt that your presence provided for him, it was still always there. A pit in his stomach that was growing bigger and bigger, because as the tender moment stretched on and on, he knew tonight was going to be when you said it, full of bliss and joy and expecting to hear the phrase back, and so he kissed you, deeply, willing you not to, so that he could selfishly claim just a few more hours with you before it was all over.
It's been a year now
Think I've figured out how
How to let you go and let communication die out
I know, you know, we know
You weren't down for forever and it's fine
I know, you know, we know
We weren't meant for each other and it's fine
Pressing his forehead against the side of the plane, his eyes fluttered shut for a second, the painful ache spreading over the entirety of his body was enough to make any other grown man cry, but that wasn’t the cause of the burning behind his eyes today. Today, Mitch had the painful reminded of this day a year ago when he’d been on his way to see you, but he didn’t quite have that luxury anymore. His throat was tinging, choking back the emotions he held, one’s he so wanted to release, and his nostrils flared with a deep sigh instead.
“You’re been pouting like a child all fuckin’ day. Will you cheer up? You’re ruining the beer I’m anticipating when I get home with your foul mood.”
He cracked his eyes open, hoping they didn’t appear as glassy and red as they felt, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat, scowling at his mentor in hopes that he’d lay off. That tactic clearly hadn't worked, however, because Stan shifted a little more in his seat, dragging a curious gaze over every inch of his face in a way that made Mitch squirm in his seat a little, uncomfortable at the scrutiny he was being afforded.
“You look depressed.”
“That’s because I’m stuck on a plane with you.” He muttered, moving himself to look out of the window instead, and his mentor barked out an amused laugh, but Mitch could still feel his lingering stares.
“No, I think you’re freaking out about what happens after you’re no longer on the plane with me.” He hated that Stan could read him so easily, that to everyone else he was a safe that was locked up tight, and that it was so easy for the other man to crawl under his skin, get on all of his nerves and be one of the only people who truly knew him. “You weren’t even this on edge and tense when we were on our way out, never mind coming home.”
“I just don’t like going home to an empty house, okay? It’s too quiet. Cold.”
He grumbled the words out, but Stan scoffed, and was fixed with a harsh glare in return, but he didn’t flinch like Mitch wished he would, seemingly unaffected by the burning stare. “And who’s fault is that, huh?”
Mitch opened his mouth, gaping a little, before snapping his jaw shut tightly, feeling the muscles twitch and tense as his teeth ground together. He could feel the divet between his brows, where they had puled together, a spot that always formed when he was angry or confused or concentrating, and he could still feel the warmth and weight of you sinking down into his lap while he wrote up his reports, your thumb smoothing over the spot, followed by a brush of your lips as you told him to relax.
The thought made his eyes sting once again, and he cursed a little under his breath, giving in at the stares they were sharing as he cowered out, blinking forming tears away quickly. “I don’t get what your problem was. You clearly care about her. Why can’t you just tell her that, and stop sulking? It’d do you good o have her back, I liked you better when you weren’t sulking and single. Less of a bitch to work with.”
“You’re a bitch to work with.”
“What are you? Five?”
He knew it had been a weak response, and he cringed a little on himself, sinking down further into the plush leather of the plane seat and trying to sift through his thoughts, something that Hurley clearly acknowledged, because he waited patiently but expectantly in silence, running a hand over his jaw as he watched Mitch try to gather his thoughts up and sort himself out. “It’s not so easy to just say. It’s complicated.”
“It really ain’t.” Stan shrugged, something about his tone making Mitch feel like he was about to get some kind of fatherly advice, and his curiosity got the best of him as he peered over at his superior. “I’ve heard you say that word before. Heard you say how much you love beer, how much you love beef dumplings and noodles on a Friday night, how much you love knocking cocky recruits on their ass.”
“Saying I love food is not the same as being able to say I love (Y/N).” He hissed, hopes dropping as he realised the statement wasn’t going to be useful, but Stan smirked at him wickedly, shrugging his shoulders and sipping his drink.
“Yeah, well, you just said it.” His face twisted up, moving between several different expressions, before a slightly nauseated shock was what he settled on, as he realised that the words he’d never been able to say aloud before, or even internally acknowledge, had finally been voiced for the first time. In front of Hurley, of all people. He was never going to be able to live this down. “Now, why can’t you say that to her?”
“Because everyone I’ve ever loved before has died, Stan.”
He could see the shock flick across the older man’s face, and it brought him a sick kind of amusement to know he’d caught him so off-guard, but then he was shrugging, and again moving back to that irritating level of passive smart-ass that only he had managed to master so effectively. “Yeah, well, you didn’t have the same training you did before now, did you? You’re not even thirty. You gonna’ spend the whole rest of your life miserable and unhappy just because of a car crash and a shooting, both of which were beyond your control?”
A dull aching in his chest flare dup a little at the mentions of those events, but he knew it was true, and his body deflated with the breath he let out as he gave the weakest rise and drop of his shoulders that he could, his hands clasping over his stomach as he turned to stare out of the plane window. A large hand found his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly, but he didn’t bother to look over.
“Just stop being a dumbass, you clearly love this girl, so why don’t you just get your head out of your ass and go see her?”
Stan wandered away after that, ice clinking in his glass as he handed it off to a flight attendant before disappearing to the bathroom, and Mitch was left alone to wallow in painful thoughts with a stabbing pain in his chest as his heart continued to long for you.
But if the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
You'd come over and you'd stay the night
Would you love me for the hell of it?
All our fears would be irrelevant
If the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
The sky'd be falling and I'd hold you tight
And there wouldn't be a reason why
We would even have to say goodbye
If the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
Right?
He was sweating, hands clammy with a nervous perspiration that made him feel uncomfortable in his clothes, like he wanted to curl up into a ball, dig a hole in the earth, throw up, or some combination of all three. The walk he’d done was so familiar to him, and yet right now, as he stood before your door, it had felt eerily unfamiliar.
There were definite changes.
Your neighbour’s suspicious cat sat out on the front of the apartment building but did not come over to him, even when he’d called out its name, taking the welcome distraction as he crouched down and held his hand out to it, trying to tempt it into remembering him, into approaching him again, but it hadn't. The small animal had simply stared at him as he stood there, before mewing loudly and running away when he’d taken a fraction of a step closer to the door.
The elevator in the main building was working, it had broken only a few months into seeing you before, and now it was back up and working like it had never been broken. The lights in the entryway were brighter, and the hallways had been repainted, the soft grey that they had once been was replaced with sky blue, much brighter and cheerier, and he remembered you telling him about it while laying in bed together one night, it was the exact colour you’d voted for when the building meeting had taken place to discuss it.
The crack in the framing by your door that you’d never gotten around to fixing was mended, damage done by the previous tenants and he’d always said he would fix it for you, but had then always forgotten to bring the tools he would need for it, and he choked down the regret in his throat as he brushed a finger over it. He knew the route, his feet feeling like dead weight under his body as he’d trudged along the halls, before finding himself here, all but trembling with fear and anticipation outside of your door.
The paper and ribbons wrapped around the flowers in his hands were crinkling loudly with every shake he made, and he took a deep and steadying breath, shaking himself down from head to toe. The rapping of his knuckles on the door felt like it reverberated along his entire body, his heart thumping painfully hard against his chest as he waited, eyes fixed on the floor as he watched warm light spill out from under the threshold and into the corridor, soon blocked by a shadow as he heard the scuffling of your feet along the floorboards.
Breath was stuck in his lungs, a choked sound leaving him as the door swung open, your voice ringing out but dying in your throat as you spoke, claiming that whoever it was that you were expecting - certainly not him - was early, and he dropped his eyes, just for a split second to scan along your body, before he was looking up at your face once again.
So pretty, and if he’d thought the melodic ringing of your voice was enough to end him then he had been entirety unprepared for the sight of you. The little black dress he loved so much was fitted to you like a second skin, a cocktail dress he’d seen you wear so many times before as he took you out for drinks and celebrations, his body flooding with heat. Hair styled up, makeup to perfection, and he would have been just as breathless if you’d crawled out of bed to answer the door but you were stunning, and he hated every ounce of himself for ever letting you go.
His jaw dropped as you stared at him in shock, pain flashing in your eyes before you hardened your gaze on him, an act he’d never wished to have you aim at him and yet he knew he deserved it, and yet the words were burning on the tip of his tongue as every moment he’d ever shared with you flashed before his eyes, swirling in his mind, and pulling one very prominent one to the front.
The last time that he’d almost uttered the phrase to you, the one he was determined for you to hear from him now, even if you no longer felt the same. The last time you’d worn this dress, and you’d taken him with you to celebrate one of your friend’s birthdays, his cheeks heating up as he looked at you, but saw that day.
I tried to imagine your reaction
It didn't scare me when the earthquake happened
But it really got me thinkin'
That night we went drinkin'
Stumbled in the house
And didn't make it past the kitchen
Ah, it's been a year now
Think I've figured out how
How to think about you without it rippin' my heart out
You were giggling into his mouth, red lipstick smeared across his chin and cheeks as your fingers scratched at the stubble lining his jaw, tongue tangled together as you stumbled into your apartment. The door slammed as it closed, hard enough to shake the walls, but neither of you cared, especially not when you were making such sweet sounds for him as his hands slipped lower and lower across the silk lining your body.
Shoes came off first, his shoes being toed off as you tried to kick off your heels, sinking a few inches further down his body as the height fell away, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to be able to lean over you, keeping his mouth firmly on yours as wet tongues tangled together. You were stumbling through the apartment, tripping over one another’s feet and laughing breathlessly as your hands worked down the buttons on the front of his shirt.
You were pushing the material from his shoulders, blazer and dress shirt falling away to the floor with a distant ‘thud’, the fluttering of material sounding out, and the heat around you both was crawling higher and higher. It was frantic, a night of teasing and longing looks, sipping champagne and cocktails with sly winks and whispered needs. He’d cleaned up for the event, and you’d made it clear before you’d even left just how good you thought he looked, and you were clad in dark black silk with thigh slits and heels and you were enough to bring any man to his knees, and he absolutely intended for that to be his next destination.
He was rucking up layers of fabric in his hands until the skirt was bunched around your waist, making you hold it up, and the closest surface he could pin you to was the counter of the breakfast bar, barely having even made it through the kitchen, and hissed as bare skin found the cool marble. His knees hit the floor, your panties following until the scrap of lace was pulled tight around your knees, but then he was helping you up, sitting you on the surface, letting your lay back as he spread your legs and dived right in.
You were dripping for him, before he’d even done anything but kiss you, a groan slipping from his lips as he all but drooled at the thrill of getting to indulge in the honey that was slick on your thighs. That was where he started, licking up the mess you’d already made of yourself as you squirmed and panted underneath him, letting him tease you with small bites and sucking at your soft skin until you’d growled in frustration, a hand in his hair pulling him closer until you were burying his face into your core, sounds that filled every wet dream he ever had taking over.
His scalp had burned, the scratch of your nails and tugs of the strands and your thighs and hips had been littered with red marks the shape of his fingerprints that would be purple in the morning, but he knew you loved it just as much as he did. Two fingers had slipped into you, scissored and curled as he lapped around them, driving you to the point of senseless babbling just with his fingers and tongue, before you’d exploded around him. Then, he’d fucked you.
Deep and slow on the counter with your arms wrapped around his neck, legs tights around his waist as you clung to one another, a collection of tangled limbs, a moaning mess and you chased your highs, until the two of you had been all but sobbing one another’s name into the other’s mouth as you kissed your way through your peaks, and he’s spattered your thighs and cunt with his arousal, pulling out at the very last second and leaving you trembling underneath him when he’d scooped it up and pressed it to your lips.
It was hot, and erotic, but the moments after had been loving and tender. Taking a shower with weak muscles, sinking to the bottom of the tub together as water thrashed down from overhead, soft kisses and laughs and whispered confessions until the water had gone cold, and you’d collapsed into bed together, leaving a mess t tidy up int he morning, sheets sticking to wet skin as you were too lazy to even dry off, just cuddling together under the sheets, drunk on one another, and the words had been so close that night. A sleepy, post-orgasm haze, he’d so nearly whispered them against your lips as you kissed him goodnight.
I know, you know, we know
You weren't down for forever and it's fine
I know, you know, we know
We weren't meant for each other and it's fine
But if the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
You'd come over and you'd stay the night
Would you love me for the hell of it?
All our fears would be irrelevant
“I love you.”
You flinched, like you were standing too close to a fire and had been burned, and it felt like a knife twisting in his stomach as he watched your reaction. Your arms came up to wrap around yourself, toes digging into the wood of the floor as you stood your ground but he knew your nervous ticks, he knew you, and he frowned, but didn’t let it deter him.
“I love you so, so much. I’m a fucking idiot, I know I am. I know you hate me, and you’ve probably moved on and can find someone who actually deserves you, but I’m selfish, okay? I wanted you to hear it, I had to tell you, for my own peace of mind. I had to know that I cam here, and had the balls to tell you that you are the person who hasn’t left my mind in an entire fucking year. Every thought, every dream, every time my heart beats, it’s all for you, and I had to tell you.” He took a deep breath, scanning your face for even a twitch, any slight tell of an emotion he could get, but you were offering him nothing. “I couldn’t say it before, I was scared and I didn’t know what I was feeling and I know that I hurt you. It kills me every day to know what I did, to think about your face, and the way you’d cried when I walked out, because it haunts me, okay? A year ago today, I lost the best thing in my god damn life, and I just had to tell you, because in another year, and another ten years, and forever on, I think I’ll still love you then. I had to know that you knew.”
You were staring at him, eyes wide and a little glassy as he took a deep breath, lungs screaming out for oxygen and his mind was finally blank. The incessant buzzing he’d become accustomed to as his mind whirled around you on a loop had finally stopped, and he was left in calm, the aftermath of an event, the silence that came after an explosion, the harmony after a fight when everything just went still.
But there was always more to come.
Only then did the thoughts about what you were wearing catch up to him. Pretty painted lips and sharp eyeliner and that sinful dress that made his blood run warmer in his veins as he burned from the inside out. A quick glance behind you confirmed that there was a pair of black strappy heels to match the outfit, a necklace with a gem that he’d never seen you wear before was hanging between your breasts in the low neckline of your dress, skin soft and freshly shaven on the slit up your thigh on your dress.
He let out a sigh, shoulders slumping a little, but he tried to offer you a reassuring smile nonetheless. “Date?”
Your brows pulled in with confusion, and he could physically see the walls surrounding you begin to crumble away, before you let out a heavy sigh, your arms dropping as you caved under his faze, finally speaking to him; “No. Drinks with the girls.”
“Ah, right..”
A tepid silence took over, and he tried not to drop his eyes from yours. Soaking up every moment he had with you before you inevitably kicked him off of your doorstep, and you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning on the doorframe. “A distraction. They’re taking me out to cheer me up, because it’s been a year since the best thing in my life walked out on me.”
Mitch felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at you.
If the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
The sky'd be falling while I'd hold you tight
No, there wouldn't be a reason why
We would even have to say goodbye
If the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
You'd come over, right?
You'd come over, you'd come over, you'd come over, right?
A fistful of his shirt, a harsh tug that he wasn’t expected that made him fall over his own feet, and then there were lips on his own. He couldn’t help it, the embarrassingly needy whine that left him the second his brain caught up with what was happening, and he dropped the bouquet to the floor, hands finding your hips as he pulled you into him. Bodies collided, flush and pressed together, your hands circling his neck and fingers in his hair, heat flooding him from where you were pressed to him, and it felt like he’d been cold for the entirety of the past year, goosebumps rising and falling along his skin as he fell back home, into your arms.
Your cheeks were wet as you gasped into his mouth, tongues sliding together, panting from breath as noses bumped. It was urgent and rushed, not the kiss he’d imagined with you if you’d forgive him, but the one that seemed most fitting. Messy and uncoordinated as if you were learning each other for the first time, becoming familiarised once again with every inch of the other, hands roaming and tongue exploring, until you were satisfied that you were thoroughly reconnected.
He let out a wet and hoarse laugh, raising one hand to sit on your jaw and wipe his thumb under your eyes, clearing away the tears that were already threatening to spoil the masterpiece you’d created, and he knew how long it took you to do it.
“Baby, please don’t cry. You’re going to ruin your makeup.”
You let out a laugh, and he cleared your face, stealing a few more pecks as though at any moment you were going to realise what he’d done, go back to hating him, push him away as if this was the last he’d ever get to see you. You were staring up at him, with glassy eyes and the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, and Mitch swore he couldn't even feel the floor anymore, as if he was floating, up in the clouds and lost to the world.
“I’ll wait. I’ll wait right here, until you come back. We can talk, or you can yell, whatever you want. I’ll be here.”
“I‘m not going anywhere.” You pulled him back in, another collection of sweet kisses that he didn’t deserve but would always accept, never willing to give them up again. “I’d rather stay in and watch TV with you, but you have to go and get us takeout. You know I hate walking to get it.”
“I do, I do know that.” He sniffed, breathy exhale like a laugh as he held onto you tightly, before dipping down to collect the discarded flowers from the ground. A few crumpled petals fell away to the floor, but they were otherwise intact, and he pressed them into your hand carefully, watching as you admired them, thumbing at the delicate leaves and bringing them to your nose.
“This doesn’t get you off the hook, you know.”
“I’ll spend the entire rest of my life making it up to you, I swear.” You only nodded, letting him into your apartment as you led him inside, smiles and tears and he dipped down, lips brushing your earlobe as he listened to you gasp in surprise. “I love you, so much.”
“I love you too, Mitch. Even if you are a fuckin’ idiot.” He only nodded, following your lead as you took him by the hand and guided him through to find a vase and water for the flowers. “Go get my phone, I need to text my friends.”
He did as told, trailing through the apartment, bringing your purse back with him and presenting the item to you, his hands searching for your body once again, just needing to hold you and know that it was real, to know that this time, you weren’t just a dream his mind was conjuring up to torment him with.
He didn’t need a night out, he didn’t need you to be dressed up, he didn’t need anything but you. You and him, and the love you shared, it was enough to get him through anything.
If the world was ending
You'd come over, right?
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