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grumpygreenwitch · 1 year

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The Fairy and the Prince #1 + #2 + #3 + #4

Part 1 - Part 2 - Parts 3 & 4 - Part 5 - Part 6, 7 & 8 - Part 9 & 10 - Part 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 & 16 - Part 17, 18, & 19 - Part 20, 21 & 22 - Part 23, 24, 25 & 26 - Part 27, 28, 29 & 30 - Part 31, 32, 33 & 34 - Part 35, 36 & 37 - Part 38, 39, 40 & 41 - Part 42 & 43 - Part 44 & 45 - Part 46 & 47 - Part 48, 49, 50 & 51 - Part, 52, 53 & 54 - Part 55 & 56 - Part 57, 58, 59 & 60 - Part 61, 62, 63, 64 & 65 - Part 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71 & 72

Originally posted 9/1/2022, 9/14/2022 and 9/28/2022. Celebrating the FINIS of this story, I’ll be reposting it in its entirety once a day through February, starting today. It’s queued so that both the original posting and the reposting will come together for the final piece.

Again, thank you to all that read it, that liked it, that let me know so. I never expected to get as long as it did, but well, here we are.

If you’re new to the party, please bear in mind this was originally a speed-writing exercise. Editing has been minimal. Concurrency was a seat-of-the-pants thing, and if the spelling for names and titles matches from one chapter to the next I’m gonna be the first one surprised. All of that is getting cleaned up in post, and this is a story I’m definitely considering self-publishing, if only to see how that goes.

Prince Adam met Linden while escaping his geography lessons.

Geography is one of those things everyone should know and no one wants to learn. The Queen Dowager had commanded that it be taught to the mob of prospective heirs to the throne that she’d gathered in the Royal palace, among with many other sciences and arts. Then again, the same august and childless lady had also commanded that they be taught the finer points of fencing, wrestling and knife-fighting, so everyone had a good, if resignedly terrified idea as to how she meant to solve the matter of succession without actually making a choice and angering a niece or nephew. However, these were also the same people who’d agreed to drop off their kids at the palace and under her supervision.

In any case, Adam had no more fondness for his geography studies than any other of the Princes at hand. He was fortunate, or unfortunate, enough that, the youngest of the candidates at nine years, by the time his geography lessons rolled around the teacher, a dour old priest of the Tree-Father, was either already asleep, or nearly there. All he had to do was read quietly, peeking up, until the man started snoring.

Which he’d done.

He’d only meant to slip out onto the balcony and sit on the ornate stone railing. But the day was lovely and still young, and he’d realized that one of the gutters ended not too far from the balcony, the spout carved like a horse’s head. He’d leapt lightly onto it and charged into many a battle on his moss-painted steed before a nearby cornice had caught his eye. From there he’d climbed several fashionable false arches, like a great explorer over vast mountain ranges. Then he’d leapt and caught an old arrow-slit by his fingertips, and climbed further up, until he could tip-toe along a gutter made slick by decades of rain-feed moss.

By then he was nearly six stories off the ground.

He stalled after having raced along a lip of brick, mortar and stone barely wider than his fine leather slippers, which he’d already thrown off at some point between mountain-exploring and harpy-fighting (there had been three particularly angry swallows with nests under another balcony). The gutter there ended in a fish-head spout, and there the palace itself turned in a sharp corner, rather than a round tower curve.

Adam glowered at the lack of further road in impotent anger. After a few minutes, however, anger grew boring with no one there to look upon it, and he put his mind to more practical concerns. He was a clever young man, forced by circumstance to become even cleverer, struggling to leave childhood behind just to survive the deadly competition he found himself in. He was a lovely child, a little on the slim side, with his father’s curly black hair and his mother’s (and grand-aunt’s) narrow, firm features, black brows and deep blue eyes, pale skin quickly growing pink because no one could keep him out of the summer sun for long.

A decorative ledge above him caught his eye. It was a mirror of the one he was standing on. On his tiptoes, he couldn’t reach it, his fingers just shy of the goal. If he leapt, though…

He glanced over his shoulder. Far below he could just see the tops of the trees, swaying in the afternoon breeze like fretful nannies. Beyond them were the muddy grounds of the expanding Royal Gardens, and beyond that was the dark green smudge of the Hunting Woods. But there was no one to tell him no, and so he leapt.

He caught the ledge, and almost immediately his right hand slipped. The ledge was, he realized belatedly, much larger than he’d expected, and at a slant, meant to shed water off from whatever might lie beyond it. Years of rain had left it as slippery as the gutters.

He tried to find the ledge below his feet, but he was just high enough that his questing toes couldn’t reach it. He tried to grip the ledge once again, but couldn’t find a place that wouldn’t spit out his fingers. His left hand was slipping, and for the first time it occurred to prince Adam that he might have been a mite unwise in his choice of entertainment for the afternoon. Grunting with effort he tried to lift himself up one-handed onto the ledge.

His left hand slipped.

Adam was weightless for a single, fragile moment, the tiny space between his heart beating and his breath catching.

Then he realized there was a small, strong hand gripping his left wrist, and looked up into the face of the most extraordinary creature he would ever meet in his life.

The stranger laughed, a merry and carefree sound, the ringing of cheerful bells. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

They were wearing mismatched clothing, pants too big and tied with twine around the waist, folded many times over at the leg, shirt worn so thin the sun shining at the edge of the roof behind them showed skinny arms and a slender, graceful neck. Their hair was white and fine, tipped in dark gold, a halo around a fine-boned, acorn-brown face. But their eyes…

Their eyes were shattered glass.

Adam blinked, enthralled. They were brown and green, blue and hazel; it was as if someone had taken chapel windows and made them into eyes, glorious and random and full of lights. He fought to grip the ledge with his right hand, and finally found a spot willing to meet him halfway. “It’s my first time climbing this high up!” he protested.

The stranger, brown and lithe and mismatched in every way, laughed again, glad and guileless, and helped Adam scrabble onto the ledge.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” the Prince asked.

The stranger jerked back in surprise, blinked pointedly, and then squinted at Adam. “Nothing. What’s wrong with yours?” they challenged.

“Nothing,” Adam replied, flopping onto the ledge, which was far larger than he’d expected, the slate and stone of it sun-warm. “Other than they’re boring, I suppose.” He rolled over, trying to catch his breath. The blue sky above him vanished behind that white-haired face, far too close to his. “Gah!”

“What’s boring about them?” the stranger demanded. “I think they’re lovely. Like a bluebird’s feathers.” They reached out to try and pry at Adam’s eyes, and the prince swatted that hand aside.

“What are you doing? It’s rude to touch people without their permission!”

Fine white brows went up. “Should I have asked permission to catch you when you slipped?”

“That’s different,” Adam sat up, and his new acquaintance, kneeling by him, leaned back on the heels of their bare, muddy feet. “Of course you don’t ask someone if you can save their life, you just do it. But when it’s not important, you should always ask. It’s good manners.” The young prince flopped back down again. “Thank you for catching me.”

“You’re welcome,” the stranger seemed to be mulling on Adam’s words, and once again that fine-boned, brown face filled his field of view. “I don’t think you’re boring. I liked how you fought the swallow-harpies.”

“Have you been watching me all this time?!” Adam burst up to a sitting position again.

“Yes,” his savior admitted blithely. “It was much more exciting than me just climbing to catch the sun.”

“Catch the sun?”

“Yes, see?” The stranger reached into a pocket of their oversized pants and pulled out something that gleamed too brightly for Adam to really see, something warm and golden like fat drops of honey held in the cup of that muddy, small hand. “It’s not a lot.”

“It’s more than I could ever get,” Adam replied, intrigued. “I didn’t even know you could catch the sun like that.”

“Well, it is tricky,” they admitted, a delicate fluster on the brown and high cheeks revealing faint green freckles as they pocketed the sun drops again.

“What do you even do with it?” Adam asked curiously, examining his feet and finding them incredibly filthy; for some reason this pleased him immensely.

“I bring them into the woods, where the normal sun doesn’t reach.”

“Oh, that would be so helpful to everything there!” Adam exclaimed, and his companion flushed even deeper, all unnoticed. By the time the young prince turned to face them, they were sitting cross-legged next to the boy. “By the way, I’m prince Adam Lestrelle. But it’s fine to just call me Adam.” He offered his hand, trying to make the gesture very grand and grown-up.

“Oh, Adam’s a good name. Better than Prince, anyways, there’s too many Princes here, it’d get confusing really quickly. I think you might be the only Adam.”

“I am,” he admitted. “I’m also the youngest. And you?”

“Ugh.” The stranger took Adam’s hand; their grip was strong, dry, warm, like wood softly polished by age and use, and warmed by summer daylight. “Me too. I hate it. There’s nothing good about being the youngest.” They licked their lips in thought, and then nodded, seeming to have come to a decision. “You can call me Linden.”

“Like the tree?”

“Yes.”

Adam considered. “It suits you.” He leaned closer a bit and sniffed, making Linden look at him curiously. “You smell like them, too.”

Linden shoved him. “Of course I do!” They sprung up to their feet, and offered a hand. “Come on, then. Palace won’t climb itself!”

There was a challenging, welcoming grin on Linden’s face, as bright as the white of their hair. Adam grinned back, took their hand, and let them help him to his feet.

***

By the time someone noticed the youngest prince in the palace was missing, it was suppertime. By the time he was found, seven people had been fired, three had been threatened with beheading, and the Dowager had written increasingly scathing letters to the monastery that provided her with teachers. Adam was dragged into a bath, sunburnt and windburnt and eyes full of wild glee, soot-black from where he’d made his way into an unused chimney and climbed down and out through the hearth. Linden had shown him the chimney, and watched him begin his descent. “Be careful, Adam,” they’d warned the prince, those shattered eyes gleaming in the setting sunlight. “I can’t catch you if you fall here.”

“There’s steps, it’s fine. A baby could climb this. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” Linden had laughed. “You know where to find me.”

He was grounded, and quickly forgotten once again. The problem with that, of course, is that it’s hard to keep a young boy in a giant palace grounded if you start ignoring him. He slipped out through the cellar once, when he’d been given punishment duty there. The master-at-arms lost track of him in the training yard, busy with the older boys whom he actually had faith in. He climbed up the beams in the stables when he was supposed to be doing punishment detail shoveling hay, and slipped out through the open shutters where hay bales where shuttled back and forth. Twice he climbed out of windows, his own and the one in the secondary library. He nearly fell once.

Linden was always there to catch him, with a merry laugh and those shattered, many-colored eyes. The palace rooftop and the cool dark woods were their playground, and they went everywhere together. In shallow cisterns and tiny pools carved out of the stumps of fallen forest giants Linden showed him impossible fish that spoke in tiny strings of bubbles, like pearls from a spilling necklace. They fought with imaginary swords, back to back, defending against savage barbarians and wicked pirates and murderous raiders, legions upon legions of them. It was always his ideas that they chased after, but Linden never seemed to mind falling in with the young prince’s wild imaginings.

In the end, with summer growing heady and sweet and hot, he got grounded for good, his windows barred shut while the sour-faced, pinched-mouthed man that handled the princes made “other accommodations”. His door was barred and there was a guard set upon it, and he couldn’t force the windows open even a little bit. He’d tried to climb out of his hearth, but it shared a chimney with something that had a fire going at all hours of the day.

So he’d hid in the laundry pannier.

The staff panicked. How had their charge slipped out? How had he made it past the guard, the barred windows, the locked door? People dashed in and out, but no one thought twice of the laundry basket, least of all the burly-armed maid that carried it down to the boiling pools of lye water. Someone shouted when Adam squirmed his way free, but in the vast forests of laundry hung to dry hardly anyone could see him, let alone catch him. He scrabbled over a stone wall and raced along the top, leapt onto the low eaves of the kitchen, sprinted away and clambered up a gutter, thanking each water spout he passed by name, as Linden had taught him. He was almost to the top when his feet went out from under him and he slammed against the edge of a steep roof with punishing force, blowing all the breath out of him. His grip slipped.

A strong, tiny, brown hand caught him by the wrist. “Are you ever gonna get any better at this?” Linden accused him cheerfully.

“I hope so,” he admitted, groaning.

“That took forever!” Linden helped him onto the roof, and Adam flopped down on his stomach to catch his breath. “What happened, where have you been?”

“They locked me up.” Adam sighed.

“Uuuuugh!” Linden dropped to sit next to him, playing with the black curls of his hair. “Are they even allowed to do that? You’re their prince!”

“I’m one of, like, fifty princes, Linden.” Adam felt himself relax at last under that familiar, friendly touch, like a bird making a nest of his hair. “And I’m the youngest. I’m never gonna be king, so they don’t care.”

“If they don’t care, why’d they lock you up?” Linden sprawled on their back next to him.

Adam turned his head to look at them, frowning a little as he put his words together; that, he’d learned from no teacher in the palace, but from his mother, who hadn’t wanted to leave him behind. “Because I made them look bad,” he explained at last. “When you’re a prince, they have to know where you are and what you’re doing, always and always. And if I told them about you, they’d say it’s too dangerous and wouldn’t let me do any of it.”

“That’s so dumb.”

“Right?” Adam was silent for a long moment. “What about you? What does your family think of me?”

“They think I’m very silly for spending time with you,” Linden tucked their arms under the gold-tipped burst of their white hair. “But they’ve always thought I’m silly.”

“You’re not silly!”

“Well, of course not.” Linden looked pleased at Adam’s staunch and immediate defense. “But they think everyone that’s young is silly, and I’m the youngest, and you’re the youngest. So we’re twice the silly.”

“Ugh.” Adam was very familiar with that sort of thinking, and kept as much distance between himself and it as possible.

“And who cares what they think anyway.” Linden whipped upright. “Now come on, I found a stork’s nest!”

Adam sprung up to a sitting position. “With storks?!”

“How else would I know it’s a stork’s nest? Come on!”

***

He came back, of course, he had to. Hunger brought him back.

“Are they going to lock you up again?”

“Probably,” Adam admitted as they meandered over the narrow edge of a high partition, soaring high above a private courtyard on one side and a small kitchen’s garden on the other. “It won’t be forever,” he told Linden when his friend’s face fell. “I’ll find some way to get out, I promise.”

“What do they even want from you?” Linden demanded. “If you’re not going to be king, why can’t they let you be?”

Adam found that an excellent question and, when he was dragged once again before Master Leminy, after the sour-faced, prune-mouthed man was done with his shouting and berating, he asked it. The Master of Scions swelled up like an angry toad. Adam would know, he’d recently made the acquaintance of several of the creatures.

The truth of the matter was, Everidge Leminy had tried to get Adam sent home. Repeatedly. But he couldn’t very well explain to the Dowager why he wanted the boy gone without admitting that he was balking the entirety of the palace staff and, mostly importantly, master Leminy himself. Admitting to such a failure might well cost the Master of Scions his job, and the rank and power that came with it. The first time he had excused it as the teacher’s failing. There wouldn’t always be someone else to blame, and the Dowager would not eschew even one boy. There was talk of a prophecy, of a fairy curse that she was trying to escape, ergo there being no children of her own. But master Leminy was too busy a man to believe in fairies.

He did believe, however, that the shameless, reckless brat before him would keep on vanishing. No one could watch a child every moment of the day; no one should have to, which made it all the more infuriating, because Adam was forcing him to do exactly that, and falling behind in his studies to boot. The latter wasn’t terrible, it could be readily excused by his youth, by having to compete with peers who in some cases more than doubled him in age. But eventually someone would make a comment to the Dowager, and she would start asking questions of Master Leminy.

Faced with uncomfortable risks and unwanted variables, Leminy shifted tacks. He clapped his hands and pressed his laced fingers to his mouth. “Prince Adam. It occurs to me that your life in the palace must be unbearably boring.”

Adam, who knew grown-ups never speak to a child with that sort of make-believe respect unless they want to set a trap, was instantly on his guard. “It’s alright,” he admitted neutrally, wary.

“You’ve no peers,” Leminy replied. “No one to do childish things with. I believe Prince Rickard is… thirteen?”

“He’s twelve,” Adam replied. And a bully, he didn’t add, but gosh he was thinking it very loudly.

“Just so.” The Master of Scions kept from gritting his teeth at being corrected, but it was a close thing. “I will make you a deal. I will find friends for you. I will set aside time from your schedule so you can do,” he flapped a hand, “whatever it is children do. But in exchange you must attend your lessons without fail.”

Adam nearly cried out agreement in delight. But as his many escapes made clear, he was a clever young boy. “How much time?”

“Three hours every day before supper.” Which were hours Adam would have had free anyway, until new teachers could be found from the monastery; the Dowager’s letters had not impressed them. “But you will have to make them up; no more free mornings during the end of the week.”

Adam chewed on his lip restlessly, his hands in his pockets. In one of them Linden had thrust an empty snail shell, and he ran his fingers restlessly over the rim. Was it a good bargain? It sounded like one to him, but the source made him nervous. And would the Master of Scions stick to it? He had no reason to. He could throw Adam up in a high tower cell and leave him there forever, until his hair grew as long as his nails and he forgot what the green world looked and felt like. “I don’t need paid-for friends,” he murmured.

“Of course you do! Every young boy needs friends!”

Adam saw the trap then. They wouldn’t be friends; they would be Lemony-Leminy’s spies. That made much, much more sense. And so, as graciously as he knew a prince should, he agreed. They both left the meeting quite satisfied, even if Adam was being marched off to another punishment detail in the kitchens, and Leminy was off to wrangle an impossible little urchin’s schedule into something suitable for a would-be king.

***

Summer quickened into fall, and then into winter. Linden warned Adam that they wouldn’t be able to come once the snow fell, and the young prince spent the time after their last parting forlorn behind the glass-paned windows of the palace. For lack of anything better to do he applied himself to his lessons, half forgotten during the golden warmth of better days. He found in himself a surprising aptitude for things he’d learned with half an ear and a tenth of the interest they should have been originally given. His teachers didn’t question their good fortune; they merely rushed to catch him up while they had his attention.

The ‘friends’ Lemony-Leminy had promised him had come the day directly after his talk with the Master of Scions, and they were no better or worse than Adam had expected. Older, of course, he’d expected no different. Unfortunately for master Leminy, when you might grow up to be a king, the politics of getting people to do what you want them to do take up a good part of your education. Adam made it clear to the three boys that if they left him alone and asked no questions he would return the courtesy, effectively getting them paid for doing whatever they wanted with their afternoons. All they had to do was meet with Adam briefly after his lessons so they could agree on a likely tale to tell anyone who asked, and not get caught the rest of the time.

Two of the boys had been thrilled with this agreement. The third tried to stick to his purpose, until he discovered that it entailed trying to follow the young prince as he climbed up walls and raced along roofs like a squirrel. After falling one time too many, he wisely gave up before he hurt himself irredeemably, and contented himself with scowling at the young prince every time Adam took off through paths best suited to cats and thieves.

Winter left him stuck with the boys, and while they weren’t bad sorts, Adam couldn’t forget that they weren’t his friends. They were paid to stick around, paid to tell master Leminy what he did with his time, paid to try and keep him busy. He’d offered for them to accompany him in his lessons, but while all three had agreed, it quickly became obvious the only one with a real interest was Beliwick. To the other two boys it was just time spent away from unwanted chores with a valid excuse.

“Is she pretty?” one of the boys asked one afternoon, his voice just this side of a taunt.

Adam jerked back to reality. He’d been staring out the window at the snow-choked grounds of the palace, willing spring to arrive faster, hoping for just one sprig of green, one touch of color, to let him know his best friend would come back soon. “Who?” he asked in confusion.

The two boys, Dane and Oliver, where sprawled by the hearth playing dice. Beli, who’d been painstakingly reading one of Adam’s math primers, a gift of the prince to him, glanced cautiously at them and then ducked his head low.

It was warning enough for Adam, who dragged himself with an effort to the present.

Oliver, the oldest of the boys, snorted. “Whatever girl you’re pining after.”

“Ugh,” Adam made a face to go with the groan. “You’re getting too old to be my friend if you think I’m interested in a girl, Oliver.”

The smirk went right out of their faces, and Adam saw Beli hide a grin.

“I’m waiting for spring. I’m tired of being inside forever and forever,” he explained.

Dane flopped on the warm slate before the hearth. “The whole world is,” he agreed easily enough. Dane was not a bad sort; he was simply lazy. He would always agree with whatever was easiest. “Winter’s dragged on this year.”

“Well, it needs to drag away faster,” Adam groused.

Winter, of course, would be rushed away by no one, but it eventually did give way to spring. By then, much to his teachers’ astonishment, Adam had caught up with and surpassed a few of his peers in his academic studies. It didn’t occur to most of them that it was because he had nothing to do but read.

Rain fell on the day of his birthday, rather than snow, and he took comfort from it. He was invited to tea with the Queen Dowager, who asked the questions expected of her station and his studies, and seemed distractedly pleased over a boy from whom she expected very little, if anything at all. Just before supper he was dragged before the Master of Scions, along with prince Rickard and four more miscreants, one of them Dane. Everyone ended with punishment duties to go along with their black eyes and bloody lips, but since it was the first time Adam had landed a punch on the older boy, he counted it an improvement and the best birthday gift so far.

#the fairy and the prince #linden and adam #linden the fairy #adam the prince #fantasy #fantasy writing #writing #original writing #my writing

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 2 years

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In life Elizabeth II inspired admiration in the world’s most powerful people with almost mysterious ease. In death, under a sunny London sky, she managed the feat one last time. Rarely has one place felt so filled with status and so empty of malice as Westminster Abbey did on Monday. That much was confirmed a little after 10am when Joe Biden and his wife Jill arrived to take their seats at the state funeral. The US president had insisted on arriving by car, rather than the suggested bus. Once at the Great West Door, however, even he accepted that his privileges ran short: his path was checked by a procession of men and women granted medals for bravery and chivalry. Biden had to wait his turn, and he did so, with gracious smiles.

Around two thousand congregants had come from across the British establishment, the Commonwealth and the world. And they came not to show themselves off, but to submit themselves to the Queen’s memory. For all their medals and titles, many seemed as deferential to the late monarch as the members of the public who had queued for hours to see her body lying in state.If anyone doubted that the funeral would be anything other than British majesty at its finest, their minds were surely soon convinced. There was the sombre spectacle of the Queen’s coffin being carried along the nave, laden with the imperial state crown twinkling under the stained glass windows. There was the brass-imbued finale of the first hymn, ‘The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended’.

The grandeur was everywhere, and it was irresistible. It felt natural that the Queen’s journey should approach its end at Westminster Abbey. It was here where she was married in 1947 and crowned in 1953. It was also where she was photographed on the black-and-white tiled floor, leading to the affectionate chess meme: ‘Beware, she can move in any direction’.

The abbey inspires humility. Its narrow 13th-century transepts, cluttered with the statues of prime ministers and the tombs of poets, push one’s gaze upwards to the arches and roofs. (On Monday a hawk had been deployed to ensure there were no stray pigeons in the rafters.) The congregants had filtered in from 8am, three hours before the service started. They found their way among chairs with such labels as “Governor General + 1”. The invitation had offered a choice of morning dress, lounge suit, day dress or “full ceremonial day dress (NO SWORDS)”. All options were on display.

[Financial Times]

#The Queen #Queen's funeral #Financial Times #world events #QEII #Queen Elizabeth

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mariacallous · 1 year

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Nigeria’s 1966 coup d’état ushered a group of young military men into power, where they remain today as kingmakers, wielding immense political influence.

In this circle of elites known as the Class of ‘66 is Nigeria’s outgoing President Muhammadu Buhari and the former military leader and later civilian president, Olusegun Obasanjo. The late Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, who was handpicked as Obasanjo’s successor, was the younger brother of an army officer turned vice president during the junta’s rule in the 1970s. Even Nigeria’s former civilian president, Goodluck Jonathan (the only president to have lasted just one term), was previously vice president to Yar’Adua.

Unprecedented young voter participation in this year’s presidential election aimed to break the two main parties’ 24-year monopoly (unbroken since democracy returned in 1999). Not only was a member of the Class of ‘66 not on the ballot, but neither was an incumbent, because Buhari has served his two-term limit. Around 40 percent of Nigerian voters are under the age of 35, and the vast majority of those voters cast their ballots for the Labour Party’s Peter Obi, who at 61 was the youngest of the top three contenders.

But in an election dogged by abysmal planning and fraud allegations, political “kingmaker” and ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) party candidate Bola Ahmed Tinubu, who turns 71 later this month, emerged as the leader of a country with a median age of 18.

Tinubu’s exact age is contested; his critics suspect he is older. Few Nigerians wanted another leader in frail health (Tinubu once posted a video of himself riding an exercise bike as proof to Nigerians that he wasn’t dead) let alone a continuation of an APC leadership characterized by impunity for the massacre of children in its war with Boko Haram and of young people during protests against police abuse. His party’s terrible policy choices include blocking dollar access for food imports and a botched currency swap inflicting economic pain on households.

Tinubu may have won the top job on his first attempt, but his 37 percent share of votes is the lowest mandate of any democratically elected Nigerian president. Atiku Abubakar of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) got 29 percent while Obi took 25 percent.

The perception among some analysts is that voter suppression prevented a run-off.

At 29 percent, this was Nigeria’s lowest voter turnout in decades. Of the 93.4 million registered voters only 24.9 million voted, with incidents of thuggery and biometric machine failures preventing many Nigerians who had queued for hours from voting at all. “The bottlenecks around the elections enabled the emergence of a Tinubu win,” said Leena Koni Hoffmann-Atar, associate fellow of the Africa program at Chatham House think tank in London.

The hotly disputed 2007 election that brought Yar’Adua into power ignited calls for reform and ushered in the 2022 electoral act and use of new technology. In that election, Yar’Adua won more votes in key areas than there were voters. “It is very ironic that the first election after the passage of the act from this long period of election reform is one that has caused such injury to the public trust,” Hoffmann-Atar said.

In some states such as Lagos where Tinubu lost by a small margin, there are reports that vote tallies transmitted electronically at some polling stations were actually erroneously uploaded totals from northern states—suggesting, for example, that Obi had a larger than officially recorded win in Lagos.

International observers slammed election day’s chaotic exercise. A 40-person delegation led by Joyce Banda, the former president of Malawi, concluded that the secrecy around some ballot counts “created confusion and eroded voters’ trust in the process”; the EU criticized logistical failures that “challenged the right to vote.”

Tinubu is a divisive figure who has been labelled “corruption personified” by one Nigerian politician. Money laundering allegations trail him. (Despite denying tax fraud allegations, he settled a $41.8 million lawsuit out of court in August 2022.) But his supporters credit his term as governor with having greatly increased Lagos’s revenue generation through foreign investment and taxation; and point to his pro-democracy activism, which led to his exile under dictator Sani Abacha. Nigerian newspaper This Day editor Shaka Momodu cuttingly wrote that Tinubu’s “desire to be seen and called a democrat is only matched by the reality of his undemocratic tendencies.”

There are plenty of historical power structures and a divisive playbook underpinning Tinubu’s win. As a grandmaster of Nigerian political maneuvering and after decades behind the scenes financing or sabotaging political careers, Tinubu built himself powerful bases (alongside the erosion of the main opposition party’s strongholds) to win the vote.

He utilized regional and religious alliances like many Nigerian politicians before him. Outside of Lagos, in key southwestern cities such as Abeokuta and Ibadan, his campaign posters adopted a distinct phrase, “Awa Lokan,” meaning “It’s our turn”—merging his win with that of the Yoruba nation. In these cities, Foreign Policy witnessed his supporters calling out “Asiwaju”—his Yoruba title, meaning leader.

Tinubu also spent much of his time networking northern governors on a controversial Muslim-Muslim ticket alongside Kashim Shettima, a former governor of northeastern Borno State. He also claimed responsibility for Buhari’s presidency. “I am a talent hunter,” he once boasted. “I put talents in office.”

Opposition parties have ongoing litigation against Tinubu’s victory. PDP’s Abubakar—another political godfather—called it “a rape of democracy.”

The opposition parties are also blaming each other. Obi claims he won the election and will prove it. Abubakar, his former running mate turned rival, suggests Obi simply split PDP votes. Obi ditched the PDP last year when it became clear he wouldn’t be its presidential candidate, having been Abubakar’s running mate in 2019.

“There is a fact that he took our votes from the southeast and south-south and that of course would not make him a president,” Abubakar said. “You all know that to be a president of this country you need votes from everywhere.” Here he referred to Obi’s poor results in the north, outside of Christian areas, where he polled between zero and 10 percent. To win outright, a candidate needs the most votes and a geographical spread of 25 percent of votes cast in two thirds of all states and the capital territory. Northern Nigeria, which has 19 of Nigeria’s 36 states, thus determines elections.

Obi was dismissed as a “social media president“ but managed to outpoll the ruling APC in Nigeria’s federal capital Abuja and commercial powerhouse Lagos. The success was aided by young, digitally savvy Nigerians frustrated that the two main parties’ grip on power has failed to make their lives better or lift out of poverty the multidimensionally poor, which constitute over 60 percent of the population.

They wanted a president with a cleaner record, even if Obi is not entirely unblemished. (He was named in the Pandora Papers, a dossier of global leaders hiding offshore wealth.) “In Peter Obi, there was hope that Nigeria could change,” Edna Ugochinyere, a 24-year-old student in Lagos, told Foreign Policy.

Obi’s popularity is historic. Nigeria has never had an Igbo candidate come so close to the presidential seat since the civil war, when Gen. Johnson Aguiyi-Ironsi, an Igbo, seized power in January 1966 and lasted just six months in office before being overthrown by Hausa army officers in an event that culminated in the bloody Biafran War.

Until today, the inner circle of the Class of ‘66, from Gen. Yakubu Gowon to Abacha, have controlled Nigeria. Their terms in office have been characterized by unaccountability and entrenched corruption that have proved difficult to shake. As Michael Ogbeidi, a professor of history and strategic studies at the University of Lagos, noted, “The sixteen unbroken years of the military era from the fall of the Second Republic in 1983 and the restoration of democracy in 1999 represents an era in the history of the country when corruption was practically institutionalized as the foundation and essence of governance.”

When Buhari first seized power in 1983, his short-lived regime was notorious for having jailed some 500 corrupt politicians and businessmen. But under his current eight-year civilian tenure, Nigerians have become less safe and income per capita has fallen.

Tinubu inherits his party’s legacy. Nigeria’s youth unemployment rate is 42.5 percent, impacting 21.72 million people, which is more than the entire population of Senegal and about 70 percent of Ghana’s population. Islamist insurgencies have spread beyond the northeast. Nigerians are under threat from kidnappers, communal clashes, and various secessionists.

Almost half of Nigerians lack electricity. Total debt stock has increased six-fold to around 77 trillion naira ($167 billion), or 40 percent of GDP. Buhari controversially added an extra $50 billion in government overdrafts to state debt.

Unsurprisingly, between 50 percent and 70 percent of Nigerians want to leave the country. One Afrobarometer survey suggests 89 percent of Nigerians believe the country is heading in the wrong direction.

Many worry a disputed election in Nigeria could be consequential for other elections across the continent. Social media misinformation is circulating now, including that U.S. president Joe Biden has called for results to be cancelled.

Prior to the election, analysts had warned of disputes if the process was not seen as transparent. “In a very divisive election cycle like this—one of the ways to manage division is to ensure that every policy is seen to be fair and believed to be fair, that there is uniformity of process and national compliance to the legal framework on election,” said Cynthia Mbamalu, director of programs at Abuja-based Yiaga Africa, a non-partisan group promoting fair elections in Nigeria. “With the economic hardship we have a lot of people that are angry. There are a lot of angry Nigerians.”

The nation’s political landscape is perhaps irreversibly fragmenting as young voters grasp the immense staying power of so-called kingmakers—elite politicians born decades before them.

The flip side is data collated by citizens and at polls will be scrutinized over many months. “An election that was not as transparent as people were expecting it to be will maybe even become one of the most transparent elections, ironically, Nigeria has ever had,” Hoffmann-Atar said. “Young people are going to learn how to engage with politics outside of election day and how that is very crucial to winning on the day …. They are going to learn how Nigeria’s politics disenfranchises them.”

Ultimately, the fact that a third party even managed to challenge Nigeria’s two-party system is a significant albeit small democratic success.

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jwj212 · 1 year

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cataloguing of major events in my life that effected me to be turned into a large series of posts made occasionally

One thing that truly effected me as a person was definitely Counter-Strike: Source. This game gave me experiences that changed me in so many ways and I plan to write about them here.

Counter-Strike: Source, or CSS for short, is a game that was released by Valve Software in 2004. The game was just meant to show off the Source Engine and bring Counter-Strike into the new generation: but it was not accepted by all. Many thought that CSS was too different from its predecessor and can behave strangely at times compared to the old engine. While many switched over, some found it too arcade like to consider playing so they held off until the release of Counter-Strike: Global Offensive in 2012.

My story with Counter-Strike starts much later on than that, however. My story begins around 2016, when I had first truly started exploring the Steam Store. One vibrant summer day I was inside my house on the family computer, browsing. It was at some point that I noticed the Valve Complete Pack on sale for eight dollars. I mean, hell I loved Portal 2 and Team Fortress 2 so why not get all of their games. I continued to sit on this pile of games until I got into another game, Counter-Strike: Global Offensive. This game got me into the gameplay loop of Counter-Strike and helped me get a feel for the games. Eventually after enough CSGO I decided to try out CSS. This game I found, with its superior bhopping movement was very enjoyable compared to CSGO.

After I began to play CSS I joined many servers, from a gungame server populated only by bots, or a hectic server on inferno. There would always be something to play in those early days. The main draw for me though, was most certainly the bhopping. To simply explain, bhopping is when you strafe back and forth in the air while consistently jumping to gain speed. Many different levels were created with this movement in mind, allowing you to navigate wondrous terrain, or challenge others times on the leaderboard.

This first era leads us to the point that I met Frozen. Frozen was a character, to say the least. He was twenty-three when I met him and living by himself. We met on a KawaiiClan bhop server and began talking from there. Over the next 2 days I did not sleep and I stayed in a call with Frozen. While getting to know him, Frozen revealed to me that he had recently gone through a breakup and might lose his job due to his bad mental state. He never directly stated anything about ending his life but after we logged off he deleted his accounts and completely disappeared two days later. This interaction was my first major completely online "friendship" and it set the stage for me being able to befriend people on the internet.

The second era comes a few years later, I had played intermittently throughout the summers off of school but was not as nearly invested as I was prior to then. That was when, while playing CSGO, planning to play all of the maps in the competitive pool, I met someone on our first match. At the start of the night me and my friend had just loaded into a map named cs_office. This map was disliked by many, but loved by some, mostly those who also play CSS. I was one of the ones who loved the map and my friend I was queuing with was a hater. But that day the map would present us one of the greatest rewards ever, a friendship. In that game we met another very talkative player who also happened to be incredibly good, even though we were in low rank lobbies. He explained to us that he was playing Counter-Strike for years, even as a young child. He went on to tell us how he had just picked up competitive matches again. Once we reached the end of the game, he agreed to queue with us. After that night had finished we formed a new joke team for CSGO named the Cum Strikers.

While this may have nothing to do with CSS yet, Sam, or as we knew him at the time, wowloop, is an integral piece in the story about CSS. In any case, continuing on, eventually as we played and wowloop continued to improve he eventually ended up in the player cheater review due to his absurd skill for his ranking. Eventually a real person watched his replays and decided that he was cheating, thus he was banned permanently. Once we realized that we could no longer enjoy CSGO we moved on to CSS.

Being around Christmas time I introduce Sam to a server I had played on in previous years, from the depths of CSS. Its name changed frequently depending on the time of year, but every time I would play it would be set to full winter mode. Throughout our time playing on the Christmas themed maps we grew a deep connection as I was force trained like a Pokemon against one of the greatest Counter-Strike players of all time. Eventually that time faded and it was the year where both me and Sam's schools were gone for COVID. This led us to all be in a server voice channel talking about school for entire days. Every single weekday we would log on at 8 AM and talk all day. This single interaction spawned many different things that too effected me. The people that were friends with Sam in real life were fucking insane.

Continuing on through 2020 and the whole COVID-19 shabang we began to play CSS more in the absence of proper school. As we began our fully virtual years we would often convene to game together and play plenty of CSS. In this time I began to heavily play on AWPClan servers, particularly the 24/7 Office Map Server. I would spend whole nights on that server, eventually I used clipping software to make a video of one of these nights.

youtube

This is that first Counter-Strike video. This single video spawned a whole series of clips of me and Sam playing CSS. By talking to him and learning how to play the game I formed a nearly real bond with some random internet demon. There were many other major things that just talking to Sam changed about me, but the increased Source gameplay is the one that matters today.

Eventually Sam came across a server, marking the beginning of the third major era. The AWP Bhop Era. The new server was insane to us, we had never seen anything like it. It was AWP fighting maps that usually consisted of side strafes and a middle fort now had full power rocket auto bunny hopping and no recoil or spread on guns. Every shot had a tracer, and best of all, everyone was just a giant fucking error sign. A red error sign was a terrorist and a blue error sign was a counter-terrorist. AWP Bhop became our complete obsession for the next few months before the creating of the first AWP Bhop which sparked an entire series.

youtube

Our AWP Bhop gameplay advanced to the point of insanity over the next few months, but was stalled later on due to a short visit to the Christmas Server once again. This server was a classic that had to be played every winter, and it was the perfect time as me and Sam were both off of school for a week. Every single morning and 7 AM I would wake up and get on CSS until I went to sleep during that break. We completely changed how we played and new videos were later made due to my increase in skill.

after returning to AWP Bhop we ended up entering a war for points on the server with another faction. This caused the birth of the new clan, (0.0km/h). This was a reference to the speed counters at the end of each AWP Bhop round. We fought for points every day for months until the other clan was defeated and we were victorious. After this turbulent period of warfare the server died off a little. A few months later, disaster would strike.

AWP Bhop was completely closed down. This new development marked the end of the third major era and the beginning of the fourth, current era. The Post AWP Bhop Era. After AWP Bhop closed we lost direction in our gameplay. Every now and again we would play, or make a new video but it was becoming rarer by the day. We had simply moved on after so much time on the game. This was, and still is not the end for CSS in my life. The cycle will continue as we play the game in short bursts for events like the summer or winter where we can freely game. Although those days may be escaping us soon.

In the end, Counter-Strike: Source has been an integral part of my life story. I have conversed with many people over this game, namely Sam. He helped me grow as a person most definitely and made me who I am today, in one way. The early days of playing in my room helped me develop a further aptitude to internet communication after the foundation had been built on Jwsurvival. And this all leads to today, where just a few minutes ago I was playing Counter-Strike: Source with Sam once again.

#rambling #who asked #im high as shit #Youtube

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kcoffeeshop · 2 years

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Any application submitted after applications close will not be accepted and will be deleted without review. Please wait until we open applications to apply.

Remember that there are real people behind the blogs and this network is dedicated to sharing the love and work of all kpop fans. Interactions are appreciated but please be respectful to all staff and members.

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#kcoffeeshop #kpop network #kpop #kpop writing #kpop edit #kpop fan #network #rules

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pond-jumpers · 2 years

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The Demise of The Big Chongas:

I purchased Big Chongas about 18 years ago. It came as part of a three piece “set” of luggage—reminiscent of the bye gone days of air travel when weight was not an issue.

Empty, big Chongas alone weighs 12 lbs! It acquired the name from Holly, who spent a good bit of the luggage hauling time hauling the now named Big Chongas.

I only used it once in 18 years — due to his girth and weight — that one experience being a lesson apparently not well learned.

However, it alone comfortably accommodated Marion’s large double bed quilt I had made, so I chose it to come along this time.

At home, over the years it provided very efficient storage for many large things, like a HUGE foam pad for the pull out sofa’s mattress. Apart from that it sat in the closet for 18 years.

Unbeknownst to me, during this quiet time in my closet its lone two wheels had been deteriorating.

But, having chosen it for the journey, and the wheel situation being unbeknownst, I packed my gear in Big Chongas. The alternative was paying for another suitcase to be checked, which seemed silly at the time. How would I wrangle two suitcases at once?

(I should have considered how I would I wrangle one heavy, unstable, wheel disintegrating old suitcase, but that goes in Lessons Learned.)

It was exciting that I could load all the stuff I was transporting to Marion together with my own stuff in one suitcase. I even got my big, heavy hiking shoes inside and it was still under the 50 lb limit!

Off we went to Dulles Airport and it was drug out of the car and we wheeled off, (while a suspicious, intermittent trail of tiny, black bits marked its progress). Overcome with excitement none of us took much notice.

We hauled it a good distance to check in at Dulles and said goodbye as it queued with the other luggage for the conveyor belt.

Upon arrival in Dublin it slid down the ramp and was snatched from the Irish conveyor belt. Then, the real excitement began!

As noted in previous posts, our journey from Annapolis, Maryland to Valentia Island, Ireland, involved a fair bit of luggage-lugging. We travelled with our luggage via Planes, Trains, Automobiles, and taxis. We had mad dashes across platforms, up and down elevators and stairs, into and out of luggage racks, and on gravel paths.

It is unsurprising that Big Chongas’ errant wheels gave up the ghost a bit before Valentia Island! Marion’s wobbly drag down the path to the car in the Killarney train station car park was the last journey, other than somehow getting it into her house.

I unloaded the big blue suitcase and Marion took it immediately (and justifiably) to the pile in back of her house for the dump. After those last few adventures down the staircase and over the train platform she had no love for the Big Chongas!

I have since acquired a sleek, very lightweight suitcase with four wheels to glide my path home.

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hangovercurse · 3 years

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Long Days

Pete comes home after a long day at work and just wants to cuddle

Request: “heyy i love your pete writing!!!! could you write some domestic or boyfriend pete pls 🥺 hes always talking about how much he loves his partner when hes in a relationship its so soft”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Word Count: 1671

You yawned, looking down at the time on your laptop and realizing it was well past 3 am, Pete’s usual arrival time. You frowned, checking your phone to see if he had texted you that rehearsals were running late.

And just as your fingers touched the plastic phone case, the door to Pete’s apartment-basement opened, revealing the man himself. He looked exhausted, even for himself. The bags under his eyes sunk deeper than usual and his slouch was worse than ever.

He found you sitting up, blanket over your lower half, laptop in lap, and he smiled lazily. He slumped over to the foot of the bed and fell face forward into the mattress. You giggled as his face landed next to your waistline, moving your laptop to the small table besides you as Pete kicked his shoes off. You reached and pulled Pete by his forearms to lay his head in your lap, the man making no effort to help you except flipping over to look at you.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him. “Hi baby,” You spoke softly as he snuggled further into your body. “How was work?”

Pete hummed, eyes closing at the feeling of your gentle fingers combing through his locks. “Long. Lorne was in a bad mood and the host made us rehearse everything like 3 times.”

You frowned, “I’m sorry.” You shifted so your back was resting against the headboard and pulled Pete so he was cuddled into your chest, back against your front. You wrapped your arms around his waist, rubbing his stomach with your thumb.

Pete shrugged, hands moving to sit on top of yours. “It’s not your fault, just sucked.” You nodded, leaning down to press a kiss against the side of his head. “What did you do all day?” He asked, looking up at you.

“Zoom meetings with clients mostly, nothing too interesting. I saw this really cute puppy on my walk today, though!” You reached over and grabbed your phone, finding the picture you had taken and showing it to him. “Highlight of my day until you came home.”

He smiled, taking the phone from your hands, and gazing at the picture. “Almost as cute as you.” He mumbled, making you giggle. You pressed another kiss to the side of his head, and then another, and then a few more in quick succession, making him laugh.

You loved to hear him laugh, especially on days like these where he was feeling down. “Did you get a chance to eat?” You asked quietly after a few moments of silence.

“No.” He followed his statement with a groan, “I worked through dinner and wanted to see you as soon as possible so I didn’t stop.”

You nodded with a smile on your face, touched that he was so eager to come home to you. “I can make you something,” you offered. He rubbed small circles to the top of your hand and let out a small hum of agreement. “What do you want?”

“Do we have stuff to make mac n cheese?” He asked.

You let out a small giggle at the childlike sound of his request, “I can check. You just want mac n cheese?”

“I have been craving mac n cheese for like three days.” You laughed at his confession, moving your arms, and trying to get out from under him.

He refused to let you leave, laying over your lap completely to keep you sitting. “Pete I can’t make anything if you don’t let me stand up.”

He groaned, turning to hug your middle, his head buried in your stomach, “don’t want you to leave.”

You let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair, “do you wanna come cook with me?” He shook his head no. “Okay well I have to get up, so you have to let go of me.” He shook his head again. “Pete, I will drag you to the kitchen if you don’t let go.”

He laughed, looking up at you with tired eyes. “I’m like a koala bear.” You could hear in his voice just how tired he was, and you weren’t sure if he would be able to stay awake long enough to eat any food you made.

“Yes, you are, babe.” You sighed, using all your force to move your feet to dangle off the bed, Pete’s hands still around your waist. “Pete, let go.” You said, giggling lightly.

He let you go long enough for you to stand up before standing up himself and wrapping his arms around you again, this time from behind you. You sighed, leaning your head back against his chest, knowing he would make you walk in this position.

The two of you waddled to the kitchen, Pete pressing lazy kisses to your neck the entire way there. You got out the ingredients for mac n cheese, setting them out on the counter. “Is cheddar okay?” you asked, turning your neck to meet his eyes, and finding a soft smile on his face. He nodded, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to your lips.

You preheated the oven and set a pot of water on the stove to boil, Pete finally moving off of you to jump onto the counter, grabbing handfuls of cheese as you began to grate it. You gave him a joking glare, which he returned with a wide smile.

Once the water began to boil you added the macaroni, mentally making a note of what time you would need to take it off the stove. You put butter on a saucepan, letting it melt as you measured out the milk, flour, cheese, and half and half. You added the ingredients and mixed, draining the noodles after six minutes and adding the sauce.

You moved to one of the cupboards above your head, searching for a dish to put your mixture into. You could see the glass pan above you, but you knew reaching it would require you growing an extra three inches. You frowned, preparing to jump up onto the counter when you felt a hand around your waist. “imagine being short.” Pete said with a chuckle, grabbing the pan with ease.

You turned around, pouting at him as he set the glass on the counter. His arms went to rest on the counter on either side of you, leaning down to be closer to you. “You’re mean.” You said, crossing your arms.

He laughed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “And you’re adorable,” he mumbled, kissing you again. His lips moved so well with yours, fitting perfectly together. Pete deepened the kiss, making you lean backwards with a smile. He whined, trying to kiss you again.

“Food, Petey.” You said, pointing to the stove. He sighed, moving his hands to let you move back over to your spot and finish making the food. Instead of returning to his counter, he followed you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind and resting his head on your shoulder. You continued to work despite the man weighing you down, swatting his hands away when he tried to take pieces of pasta.

You pushed him back as you opened the oven, placing the glass pan with macaroni in it and setting the microwave timer for 20 minutes. Once you were done, Pete spun you around to face him. His hands rested on your waist, and you put your own around his neck.

“Dance with me” he mumbled, forehead resting against yours.

You giggled softly, “there’s no music.”

“We don’t need music.”

Pete started swaying you both gently, slowly spinning around the room. Your eyes were on each other the whole time, nothing else mattering but each other. Despite the lack of music and the tiredness in both of your eyes, it felt magical.

You didn’t notice Pete’s mom enter the kitchen, nor did you notice the smile on her face as she took out her phone and recorded the two of you. You didn’t notice anything other than Pete.

“I love you.” You whispered; a smile spread on your face.

Pete’s lips connected with your own, the kiss slow and sweet and lazy and perfect. “I love you too” he whispered after he pulled away.

You were brought out of your fairytale when the microwave beeped, alerting you that the mac n cheese was ready. You pulled away, grabbing an oven mitt and a towel, and pulling the glass pan out of the oven. Pete noticed his mom in the kitchen doorway.

“I came to get a glass of water but I didn’t want to interrupt your moment.” She said, a fond smile on her face.

A blush rose to your cheeks as you set the pan on the towel. “Do you want any?” Pete asked motioning to the dish.

She laughed, “at 4 in the morning? I’m good. But if there’s leftovers I might take some to work tomorrow.” You nodded, mentally noting to save her a piece. “Y/N made it, right?”

You nodded with a smile, laughing when Pete let out a “what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m gonna get to bed, have fun you two.”

“Goodnight.” You called softly as she moved to her room before moving to grab a spoon, two forks, and two bowls. Pete left to the room, turning on the TV and flipping through Netflix to find a specific movie. You put the dishes in the sink, promising yourself you’d do them the next day, and then served yourself and Pete. You wrapped the remaining food and placed it in the fridge, walking to where Pete was.

You found him on the couch, blanket sprawled over him, and Scott Pilgrim vs the World queued up to play. You sat next to him, handing him his bowl, and smiling as he instinctively leaned into you. You spent the rest of the night eating and watching comedies on Netflix until you both passed out on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms.

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fluff

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

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The Empress Pt.VI

I hope you all have a lovely day🖤🖤

Warnings: light hint to sexual innuendo, Swearing

Its been about a couple of months now since we found Tommy. The palace was up in a baby craze due to the new little prince they inherited. Once we got past the first couple week's of tommy living with us, we saw his true nature. He was a nice and sweet kid, don't get me wrong. But oh, he was also a trouble maker.

Tommy would often bounce between hanging around Wilbur, Techno, Phil and even you. When you would be working at the forge Tommy would sometimes just slip in unannounced and make himself comfortable on a spare stack of metal. You'd only really notice him when he would ask you what something was, or what it did.

That was the new update as well. After returning Techno had requested that you practice making earrings. Saying that he wanted to see how dainty you could work. Of course you didn't mind, back at your village you would often make rings, pendants, and sometimes earrings for those who asked. So making him a earring was no fuss at all.

Techno did start to wonder around to the forge often. usually seeing what you were making or what you were in the process of. Sometimes he would even make off hand comments to make you laugh. Your favorite visit’s from him were always when he would bring tommy. The two would walk in, Tommy holding Techno’s finger as his hand was a little too big for the young boy to fully grasp.

Since you were a familiar face around the palace Techno had stopped wearing his Skull. Instead replacing it with his all to familiar golden reading glasses. You still stood by the ideal that you preferred him with no skull. Since he was, to you, very handsome. You did find out later that the skull he wore was for outsiders. He didn't feel the need to show his face to those who wouldn't be present very long in the empire. Choosing instead to leave them with the impression that he was a monster of a man, rather than a young prince with a heart of gold. When you say he had a heart of gold, you meant it.

Recently techno has really opened up around you, becoming more relaxed in your presence. Phil had mentioned that it would only be a matter of time before he did, and sure enough he was right. If you didn't have anything to do with the forge that day you would sometimes read within his office well he worked. He never made tones of disagreement, or ask that you leave, instead he would just watch you sit before offering a ‘Hello’. It had become something that you often looked forward too.

You and Wil were still thick as thieves. Techno would rag on Wil about how you two could sit and talk for hours, before declaring that you were bored with each other. Only for you two to part then reconcile in the library a hour later. Techno couldn't understand it, but in the end just accepted it for what it was.

You had just finished cleaning up the forge for the night when you herd some light pitter patter of feet. Tommy. You slowly turned to face him. He was in his night wear, obviously he had just gotten out of bed. he looked distraught however. “What’s up bud?” you asked, putting the tongs and the spare metal away. He slightly shifted in his spot, his little teddy bear behind him.

“I had a nightmare” he quietly mumbled. your eyes softened. Ever since you three found him he would have a recurring nightmare about ‘loosing my new family’ as tommy put it. Usually when he had this dream he would seek Techno, or you out for his comfort. Since you two were mostly together when he would look.

“Want me to read to you?” you asked, kneeling down to his level. His bright blue eyes dancing about. He gave a little nod. he put his arms out for you to carry him. you shyly smiled at him.

“buddy I'm a bit dirty...” You said softly, unsure if he was ok with getting dirty right before bed. He only shook his head and said ‘I don't mind’ as a response. So you gently took him into your arms as you stood. He didn't hesitate to curl into your neck. you glanced back at the room that held the forge, you mentally shrugged figuring the rest could wait until tomorrow. With Tommy in your arms you wondered out, heading for his room. On the way there Techno crossed path’s with you.

“Oh (y/n)” he said as he looked from you to tommy. he furrowed his brows, asking what was wrong without physically saying it. You mouthed out that it was a nightmare, Techno slowly nodded understanding. He rested is hand on tommy’s head giving a reassuring rub to it. “Not havin’ such a good night big man?” he asked gently. Tommy turned his head to look at Techno, slowly shaking his head. Techno pondered a moment as he watched tommy. slowly he gained a idea. “You wanna hear somthin’ cool?” he said with a small smile. tommy nodded in response, gripping to your shirt.

“Can (y/n) come?” Tommy asked quietly, watching Techno's kind eyes. Techno patted Tommy’s head before he nodded.

“Yeah I mean, I guess she can come. Only if you deem her cool enough that is” Techno mused, glancing to your eyes. you raised a brow in question, watching Techno bite back a playful smile. Tommy nodded again. “You think she’s cool enough?” Techno asked Tommy, having him confirm his nod. “Yeah I think she’s cool enough too” He said, ruffling your hair before he walked off. queuing you to fallow him. You smiled and fixed your hair before fallowing him. Instead of leading you towards Tommy’s room, he lead you two to the Library. “Go sit on the couch over there” Techno said, pointing to the sofa closest to the fire. You nodded and wondered over, curious of what Techno had planned.

when you sat, you adjusted tommy so he sat in your lap. he pulled his bear close to his chest, hugging it tightly well the two of you waited for Techno. Luckily he didn't take long. When he returned, he had a Violin in hand. He was casually tuning it well he walked. You tiled your head curiously at him. “I didn't know you played” you said to him. He sent a bemused smile to you. taking a relaxed stance.

“Trust me Princess... There's a lot you don't know about me” He waisted no time on starting a soft tune. Well Tommy eased into you, slowly becoming entranced with the peaceful notes, you became more interested in how he swayed to the light swing of his arms. His hands ever so delate as he held the bow, dancing it along the strings. working the instrument to cry out a melody ever so sweet. His face was that of concentration, focused on finding the proper notes to lull his younger sibling to sleep. This was just another reason why you found Technoblade so interesting. He could talk politics and war strategies so easily, sounding like a primed veteran well past his years. But then he could retire to the library and look like a young boy falling in love with the craft he just found.

Well Techno played away, his eyes fell to you. Tommy had fallen asleep in your arms, finding security within them. His teddy bear tightly locked within his own arms. When he glanced up to you he almost had the breath knocked from his lungs. You sat so beautifully. Your eyes were ever so soft well watching him. You looked at him like he was the most important thing you had ever seen. Your face held a little bit of dirt, and ash from the hard work you did for the day, but he didn't mind. He actually preferred it. Too many times had the Court tried to set him up with a prim, and proper woman. One that was elegant, clean, pure, dainty. But He didn't want that. He wanted strong, hands calloused, smudged makeup, sweat dripping, imperfect, but yet somehow at the same time, perfect. He wanted flaw. He wasn't perfect, he had scars, he wasn't the most handsome boy, he was often classified as too bulky, and too tall. He also couldn't be held back with someone who wanted him, to pamper and please. He wanted someone who would treat him as a equal, who praised his knowledge on war instead of shunning it. Someone who embraced the flaws of the world, and turned them into works of art. His eyes wondered back over you, you had moved your head down to check on tommy. Your fingers delicately tracing over Tommy's cheek. Brushing the curls from his face.

You looked back up to techno as he came to a stop. “That was beautiful... Why didn't you tell me you played?” you asked softly. Being mindful of the toddler asleep in your arms. Techno slowly lowered the Violin to the couch.

“I didn't think it was that important to bring up” He said, returning the soft tone. Well he sat the instrument down his eyes met yours. You couldn't help but feel drawn to his eyes, they looked like beautiful glass, the fire’s reflection dancing within, making his eyes dance lively. “If you would like to talk more we should take him to bed first” he said, his eyes flickering to Tommy. You nodded slowly.

“Right, of course.”

After Techno and you had put Tommy to bed it was well into the night. Most of the servants and palace guards had retired to their beds, making way for the changing of the guards. Techno and you weren't really feeling the effects of sleep yet. Rather the two of you wanted to stay within each others company longer. Techno had walked you you to the garden, having snatched two blankets from the library before wondering out into the cold. Techno, having no where to be ended up taking his hair out from his braid. replacing it with a lower pony tail, giving his hair a moment of freedom from it’s confinement.

The garden was beautiful. They couldn't grow flowers of course, but there were elegant sculptures that replaced them. in the middle of the whole garden was a artesian well fountain. although long frozen when the two of you passed by you could hear the water running within the ice. It was peaceful to walk with Techno. It was rare when the two of you would make late night walks. Usually you would take them during the day, or after dinner. But nothing past 10 o’clock mostly.

“So what’s something else I should know about you?” You inquired to him. He smiled to himself before turning to you.

“Are you really going to start school yard type questions with me?” He teased. You smiled and lightly laughed. He was smiling at you, admiring how you looked when you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah I guess I am. You going to answer them?” You couldn't help but tease back. He chuckled and hummed.

“Mmn. Maybe” he said bemused.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked, now aiming for the most basic questions just to make him laugh in turn. He leaned onto the railing that over looked the kingdom, pondering a moment.

“Red’s a nice color, Or Plum Purple” He said looking at you. Taking a moment to ask you a question in turn. “Besides the forge what do you like to do?” You sat and thought a moment.

“I like to read, Action and Romance are a lot of fun” you mused, earning a laugh from him.

“Romance eh? Waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet? Lamee” he said jokingly. You laughed and took a swat at his chest.

“Oh hush up, I bet you’d like someone to sweep you off your feet Techno” You said, your eyes scanning the horizon. He sat and thought on your words a moment.

“Eh not particularly. Only lame nerds think of that” He said, turning, heading back for the garden door’s. you scoffed and laughed a bit.

“Jerk” you said between laughs. You were going to fallow, but then you had a wicked idea. You scooped up some snow in your hand and bit your lip trying to muffle your laugh. once you had a decent snowball you threw it at him. Bullseye. You had nailed him in the back of the head. He went still, You were a giggling mess now.

“Oh, your in for it now Princess” He said, smirking has he turned. Running after you, his blanket long discarded as he ran to grab you. You squealed out laughing, running from him, discarding your blanket too. You didn't get far before he hooked his arm around your torso, pulling you into his chest well you flapped about like a fish. “Your gonna’ be pullin’ snow out of your shirt for a week when I'm done with ya’!” he said Laughing. Picking snow up before putting it on your head. Some of it even went down your shirt. You flopped about, laughing the whole time until he dropped you into the snow bank. He laughed at you and how you were practically buried within the snow. This only fueled your fire. you threw two more snowball’s the first one missed, but the second one he grabbed out of mid air. You tried to free yourself from the snow bank before he came over to you, but it was no use. he climbed into the bank and shoved the snow down the back of your shirt. But this time you caught him off guard. You grabbed his arm and pulled. setting him off balance so he fell into the snow. Now it was your turn to laugh. tossing more snow onto him. It didn't take him long to recover of course, he simply rolled and grabbed your arms. Pinning them down to the snow. His body hovered over yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His face was that of pure joy, the long stoic look gone. he was at his happiest with you right now. He looked down at you, smiles adorning both of your faces. You two were happy. Happy with the moment, you just wanted it to last as long as it could. Well you two looked into each other’s eyes everything else lost meaning.

Without you two realizing, Phil watched above from one of the windows. He was smiling fondly at the little snowball war you just had. whether Techno had realized it yet or not, Phil did. Techno cared for you. Phil saw how he looked at you. During dinners, Lunches, casual talks, or even when the two of you hung out together. Techno looked at you with pure love and adoration. Phil knew if anyone was capable of wining Techno’s love it was going to be you. You were a hard worker, You cared for Techno’s brothers, got along well with all the servants, were mindful and respective of Techno's space, you also had enough spunk to rise up and toss back the teasing he threw. Phil knew this was the beginning of a love story.

After your snowball fight with techno the two of you did end up going back inside rather quickly. Well Techno may have not been cold, you were definitely cold after all that. You could feel the snow melting on your back, the drops of water running down your skin. But that didn't stop Techno from walking beside you. The two of you walked side by side, your arms around each other to share the warmth. The lingering giggles were etched onto your faces in wide smiles.

“I didn't hurt you at all, right?” Techno asked, double checking incase he was too rough. You shook your head smiling. Drawing your side of the blanket- that was wrapped around you both- closer to preserve the upcoming heat.

“Nah, I coulda’ have taken ya’ if you had stayed above me more” Techno laughed fondly. Amused with your spurt of spunk.

“Oh really now? You think you could take me?” This was now your turn to giggle. purposefully running into his side, shoving him lightly.

“Mmn.. I think I could have found a way” You said looking up towards your room. You had offered to walk techno to his room, but he declined. He said he would feel better if ‘The lady was at her room safely’. You didn't mind, you figured next time you would walk him to his room in turn to make it even, maybe fire back with ‘I must make sure the young prince is safe’.

He chuckled bemused. “If you really have that much spunk maybe I should teach you sword play, or maybe something more military related. you tilted your head up to him curiously.

“You would teach me something?” You asked, semi surprised, but also heart warmed that he would take time aside for you.

“Of course, Princess. I’ll teach you anything you want” He looked down to you as he spoke. He was smiling gently. His tone was fond as he addressed you. “Now don't think I’ll go easy on you though”

“Oh, I didn't think you would” You said, resting your hand on the door handle, opening it. “Would you wanna come in and warm up a bit?” You inquired, looking up to him. He went a faint pink before biting back a shit eating grin.

“Princess... Young men shouldn't be within young ladies chambers during such late hours... Unless, your trying to bed me?” He leaned on your door way. Biting back the largest grin. “Are you trying to bed me, Princess? I knew you had gotten some spunk but I never thought-” You laughed as he teased, going a bit red. trying to wave it off.

“No- No, you know what I mean-” He laughed and cut you off.

“Oh no, I know exactly what you mean” You smiled leaning on your door, looking up at him.

“Are you done?” You asked giggling. He hummed, his face towards yours as he shifted a little closer.

“Maybe” He said amused. “Go get some sleep, and warm up. I'm going to teach you sword play tomorrow” Your eyes lit up. Taking in a small gasp of excitement.

“Are you really?” You asked almost unsure that he was still teasing.

“I mean, Only if that interests you...” He said, his eyes lingering yours. You nodded fast and hugged him without much thought. Techno couldn't help the blood that ran to his face. He lightly cleared his throat as he rested his arms on you. A bit hesitant at first, but he slowly relaxed into your hold. Now understanding why Tommy liked to hug you a lot.

“Thank you...” You mumbled into his chest.

You swore if techno knocked you off your feet one more time you were going to find a way to shove his pretty head in the snow.

Techno was a monster- in the sense of strength. You thought when fighting him, it would be a mutual teaching before he actually started going ham on you. But no, he literary just started striking with no hesitation. Only when he had your swords in a lock did you voice your lag.

"Tech, please can we ease up?" You pleadded. He only watched you briefly. His inner General having come out a while ago.

"Your strong. You can take it" he said sharply. Earning a whine from you. You weren't strong. You didn't do this on a daily. You only made the swords. But he was pushing you. Pushing your strength, and your nerves for one.

"Techno I'm not strong, I- I've never done this-" he grabbed your sword and threw it away from you. Putting his own away. He grabbed your arm and pulled it to him. Pushing your sleeves up.

"Flex your arm." He commanded. You hesitated, looking up at him. "Don't look at me like that. I said flex your arm" you slowly did as he said. Drawing your fist, and flexing your arm. He grabbed your bicep and squeezed a bit. "Notice how hard it is?" You nodded slowly. A slight sting from where he squeezed. "That's pure muscle. You are stronger than you realize. If you convince yourself that you are weak or that you cannot do this, then that's what will become of you" he paused his eyes flashing to yours. "I understand that you are no warrior, but you have strength. As soon as you stop telling yourself that you are weak, you will make progress." He pulled your sleeve down, fixing it for you. "Rome wasn't built over night, Princess. It took time, planning, care, and had to show promise. When I look at you, I see great promise."

When he released your arm you walked over to pick your sword up. Techno readying his stance again. However, before you could break into another spar Phil had wondered out.

"Ay' Techno you have a letter on your desk. You may want to read it" Phil said with a bit of concern. Techno dropped his stance his brow furrowing. He gave a 'Heh?' In confusion. He glanced to you and to Phil.

“Can it wait a bit? I'm in the middle of teaching” Phil shook his head slowly. Techno paused as he thought a bit. "If I go, could you teach (y/n) a bit more? She feel's I'm too strong for her." He mused. His military side slowly fading away for his more domestic side.

"I suppose so." Phil said with a gentle smile. Techno gathered his things and ruffled your hair before leaving. Phil turned his attention towards you. "What has he showed you?" Phil inquired, walking over to you.

"Nothing besides showing me the ground.. seriously my back hurts.." you whined. Phil chuckled lightly at you.

"I should have known. Here I'll teach you some basic's" Before long Phil had you doing simple moves and stances. Things he felt would be easy for you to ace. After a while you got a bit curious.

"Why does techno think I can pick this up so easy? He fights so hard" You questioned. Looking over to Phil. He hummed a moment well he pondered.

"I uh, think that he just wants you to be able to defend yourself. He knows your strong, and besides. He thinks pretty highly of you, y'know'" you went a bit wide eyed. Techno thinks highly of you?

You looked to Phil with a bit of shock on your face. "He does?" He nodded, Smiling gently. Phil gently took the sword from your hands and hung it on the wall with the others.

Since you within the training hall, there was a plethora of weapons and armor of all kinds. The room was large, made for incasing many people. But the detail never faltered. The floor was of stone, pillars lining the outside to support a second floor. The ceiling was framed with gold, dark oak and a smooth white to open the room up more. It was a good place to spar and just ramble off thoughts.

"Oh, of course. He's said it multiple times to me. That's why he was fine with you coming with us to the mansion. Don't think that he hasn't been paying attention to you on the daily." Phil said looking up to you.

"He watches me?" You furrowed your brow slightly. Phil saw and continued.

"Not in the creepy way. He just takes notes of things you do, say you like, ect. He knows your kind with tommy, that you are very organized with your work. Your very detail oriented. He's become quite smitten with you" Phil chuckled. Finding it all amusing.

You were taken aback by this. You thought you two had a good friendship, but it looks like he's paid a lot of attention to you after all. It started to dawn on you. 'I don't really know much about him' you thought to yourself. Sure you knew his mom passed, his favorite color. But you never really dove into his personal life much beyond that. Maybe it was time you got to know him more. "If I wanted to know more about him... could I ask him?" You asked, looking up at Phil. He patted your head and started walking with you towards the hall.

"Of course. Something tells me he wouldn't turn you away." Phil said, biting a smile back. He remembered you two last night playing within the snow. He knew Techno would never turn you away, he was in love with you, even if techno wasn't aware of it.

After dinner you wondered towards Techno's office. You wanted to talk to him, get to know him better. You know he was powerful and kind, but you wanted to know more. What was his ambitions? His hopes, fears. You just wanted more.

When you walked up to the doors you carefully knocked, hearing talking within. When you herd the 'come in' you pushed the doors open. Techno was sat in his chair per usual, he had his reading glasses on with papers on his desk. When you entered he complied them together neatly. Setting them aside for later. However there was also a rather tall woman. she was beautiful, dripping with total control. Her hand was rested on her sword. When she turned to face you. You saw Her face, It was hard but something told you their was more too her. Her skin looked like it was kissed by the sun himself. She looked like she wasn't from here, but the way she dressed herself in armor told you elsewise.

"Hello (y/n)" techno said. The woman glanced to Techno and back to you. She offered a kind smile. "This is General Hawthorne, she's my leading General of the Empires army. I don't believe you two have met before" He said formally. Not having the tone he normally used with you.

She offered her hand. "Its nice to finally meet you (y/n). His Imperial Majesty said we would have a new Blacksmith. But I never expected someone as young as you" Her smile was warm. When you took her hand to shake it you were shocked with the grip she had. Under her glove you could feel some rings digging into your hand. "Don't worry about addressing me as Hawthorne. Seraphina is fine, or Sarah" you nodded smiling to return hers. Wanting her to drop your hand, her grip a tad to much.

"Its a pleasure to meet you, too" you said looking up to her. She turned back to Techno, taking a scroll from his desk.

"I'll see you there then sire" Sarah said, smiling before she walked out. You watched her go, your eyes lingering on the door as you thought. Turning back to Techno.

Techno took his reading glasses off and set them aside on his desk. Leaning back in his chair. When he looked up at you his eyes softened, his tone also becoming casual. "What do you think about weddings?".

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro @jackalopedoodles @angelic-scent @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @artsimatsu @justabalroginthenet @seme1e @fangirl570 @sweeetteaa @awlawdtheycoming @idkwhatusernametohave @sugarandspicebutnonice @bambibunz @lynnarts @buzzybeebee @feathersthewinged @prefesro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #TE

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meltwonu · 3 years

Text

25. “What did you just say?”

48. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.”

notes; climbing-instructor!seokmin(if you dunno what that, its rock climbing lol), not rly a enemies to lovers au but enemies lolol, hate fucking, dirty talk, degradation, name calling, seokmin being an ass man, spanking, shower fucking, hair pulling! 🥴💕 I rewatched the GoSe ep where they were Seungkwan’s emotions so heheh… def pulled this from that except Seokmin’s not as scared of heights LOL 🤣 Also this was queued so I’m hoping it posted at the right time or else I will scream at the air ☠️ As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy!💕

You’d been working at the climbing studio for only three months before Seokmin came along.

“I said, ‘put your fucking left foot on the red one’!”

And he’d been everything but friendly towards you.

“There’s 4 red ones, you piece of shit! God! You’re so shitty at giving directions!” You retort - hands both gripping onto the rocks on the wall as Seokmin attempts to guide you through a training exercise for the new hires.

The two trainees grimace as the two of you continue to argue but it’s Seungcheol, the resident supervisor, that shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“And that, kids, is how you don’t rock climb.”

But you didn’t hate Seokmin. You just found him… annoying.

He was kind to all the other instructors and clients but when it came to you, his lips would always purse and his eyes narrow when you were and weren’t looking.

You weren’t sure if it was because he’d seen you as competition or if he was just picking on you, but eventually you both had turned it into a game to see who could piss off the other quicker.

Usually, it was Seokmin that’d lose his temper first.

And usually, that meant your back pressed into the lockers when he’d kiss you hard, teeth clashing in his wake or your legs up and over your head when he’d fuck you hard and fast in the storage closet after hours.

Neither you nor Seokmin remembered the first time it’d ever happened but it’d become so frequent that you always came to work expecting Seokmin to be at his worst just so you could press his buttons a little more.

Today was no different.

The shower rooms are always eerily quiet once the climbing studio closes and you take your time standing underneath the shower head as you destress and wash away all the sweat and grime from the day’s events.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little miss know it all, huh?”

Seokmin’s voice bounces off the tiles and you don’t even bother to turn around and spare him a glance before you’re scoffing and running your hands through your wet hair.

“You sound pressed. Upset that Seungcheol chewed you out and not me?” Smirking, you can already tell that Seokmin is even more upset with the way he doesn’t reply as quickly. “Did you finally realize you’re not as good as you think?”

“What did you just say?”

You spin around, stepping from under the water and raising a brow at Seokmin that stands naked across from you - his hard cock curving up against his abdomen.

“Oh, y’know, just wondering if it finally hit you that you’re not as competent as you think?” Giggling, you spin back around, fully ready to continue your shower when you feel Seokmin’s presence at your back in a flash and his fingertips locking into your hair painfully tight as you groan.

“I bet he only chewed me out ‘cause you’re probably fucking Seungcheol too, huh? Trying to get those brownie points somewhere else so he doesn’t realize how incompetent you are.”

Seokmin scoffs, pulling on your hair and forcing your head back as his cock grinds against your ass.

“I will say though, princess,” he leans down, lips at your ear as you shiver, “your ass is so pretty when you’re in the harness climbing the wall. Hah, bet everyone wants to fuck your pretty ‘lil cunt, but it’s me that fucks you how you like, right? It’s my cock that gets you fuckin’ soaked and gets you cumming so fuckin’ fast when I pound your ‘lil pussy.”

You lick your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his cock on your ass.

“G-god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad… Now fuck me like you mean it or else I’ll find someone else to do it.”

And Seokmin doesn’t hate you either.

“O-oh, mmh, fuck!”

He actually likes how easily you give into him after he pushes your buttons a little too.

“Yeah? You like that? You like it when I fuck you from behind ‘n fuck you nice and deep?” His hands are on your ass as you bend over in the shower; your own hands pressed into the tile as you work your hips back to meet his punishing pace.

“Mmh, just how you like how fuckin’ tight and wet I am around your cock? Bet you never had anyone like me, right, Seokmin?” You grin at the wall, moans on your lips when he angles his thrusts to slam into your g-spot.

“Fuh--fuck! R-right there!”

“I could say the same for you, princess. What’s it like knowing the only good dick you can get is from someone you claim to hate, huh? Must be so embarrassing for you.” He brings his hand up, only to bring it down fast onto the skin of your ass as you moan and clamp down onto his cock tighter when he slaps your ass three more times. “Just a ‘lil cockslut for me, aren’t you? Always ready to be fucked as soon as I get you a little heated. What would they say if they saw how wet you were while you were climbing the walls, hmm?”

The water beats down onto your back as Seokmin continues his harsh pace and you find yourself edging closer and closer to an orgasm with each snap of his hips.

Your moans bounce off the tiles in the empty shower room and Seokmin can’t help but grin and slap your ass a few more times as you mewl and cry out his name.

“That’s right, let everyone know who fucks you this good, princess~ Let them all know it’s me~”

“F-fuck you, Seokmin… W-we’re probably the last, ngh, p-people in here, ah, a-anyway…”

He smirks at this; taking a free hand off your ass and sliding it up your soaked back before he tangles it into your hair. You wince in return at his tightening grip that has you slowly being tugged towards his equally as wet chest.

His lips ghost across the shell of your ear, tongue peeking out to lick your wet skin before he chuckles under his breath.

“Then I wanna hear you scream when I make this pussy cum. Get those filthy ‘lil fingers of yours on your clit for me too.”

He lets go of your hair as you fall forward and try to find purchase on the slippery tiles before you lose your balance.

“Asshole…” Mumbling, you place a hand on the tile before you use your free hand to slide down your frontside - fingertips on your clit in an instant as you moan and clench around his cock.

“Mmh, fuck, ‘m g-gonna cum…” Your voice is whispered, eyes clamped shut at the way Seokmin doubles his pace.

“Go ahead, princess~ I’m gonna cum in your tight ‘lil cunt too.”

He smirks at your back before his eyes flit down to watch his cock thrusting in and our of your pussy.

“Fuck, your pussy is gonna look so good dripping with my cum...”

And it only takes a few more skillful and quick snaps of his hips before you’re cumming on his cock; walls fluttering around him and urging Seokmin to follow suit.

“Mmh, that’s right, princess. Fuckin’ soak my cock while I cum inside you.”

Seokmin lets the pleasure wash over him - head thrown back and blunt fingernails digging into the skin of your ass while he unloads all of his cum inside your tight cunt.

“Ngh... Seokmin...”

The warmth pours over your body and the heat from the shower makes you feel lightheaded as the two of you ride out your orgasms together.

Your fingers rub slower, softer circles on your clit as you start to come down from your high sooner than Seokmin but he starts to pull out of you - only to let the last bit of his cum drip onto your ass as he grins.

“Next time, I’ll cum on your face instead, okay, princess?”

You can feel his cum sliding down your inner thighs; soft whines on your lips from the feeling.

“Fuh--fuck you, Seokmin...”

He laughs, airy and tired as he wraps a hand around your midsection to keep you from falling over.

After all, Seokmin wasn’t that mean.

“Fuck me? Think you got that one a little mixed up, princess.”

#seokmin smut #dokyeom smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin scenarios #seokmin imagines #dokyeom imagines #dokyeom scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seokmin #dokyeom #svt fic

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fanficimagery · 4 years

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Friends in High Places

Summary: When Spencer comes home with files to a case that has his team stumped, he's surprised when you- his neighbor for a couple years now- is the person who gives them a new lead to follow. That and that you're ex-SHIELD.

Words: 8K Warnings: This is what I get for starting a rewatch of Criminal Minds and then watching Marvel movies all in one day. Fml. I've never written for Criminal Minds, so please excuse the mediocre-ness of their characterization. I have no idea what I'm doing; I just knew I wanted a crossover between these two fandoms. Also timeline? What are those? All you gotta know is that this is an AU where Bucky's joined the team and Steve DIDN'T ruin the life Peggy Carter would have had. As for the CM side, this is sometime after Hotch has left and Emily took over. Idk.

Having the night off and wanting nothing more than to just be lazy, you're sitting on your couch in your most comfiest clothes and mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr as your TV plays some program on Animal Planet. You're not even paying attention to the program, but the low sound is perfect for background noise.

You're queuing up some art posts that catch your attention, as well as some gif sets of the TV shows you've become a constant viewer of in the past few years, when there's a knock at your door. But not just any knock. It's a specific knock that you and your neighbor came up with after you got to know each other and became fast friends, and it was to let the other know they were home and wanted company. You mostly worked nights and his work schedule was always all over the place, so it's surprising you're both home at the same time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot him a quick text that you'll be over in five.

Spencer Reid is literally the man of every woman's dream, even if they didn't know it. He's cute and adorable and sometimes dangerously hot all rolled into one, and the best thing about it all is that he doesn't even know it. You had met him on one of your first few days in the apartment complex, but unfortunately it was during one of your slight panic attacks when a thunderstorm had caught you off guard while you were sitting in your car and you didn't have an umbrella.

He had seen and heard you freaking out as he was passing by, and knocked on the passenger window. You had collected yourself just long enough to roll the window down a few inches when he asked if you were okay, then proceeded to answer his own question by stating you obviously weren't. When he realized you lived in the same complex and asked if he could climb inside your car and out of the storm, you had stared at him in confusion until he realized that might have been a bit weird since you were strangers. He stammered his way through his explanation of being an FBI agent and after showing you his badge you had let him in.

You didn't have to tell him what was making you panic and he proceeded to keep your mind occupied. He asked about you and where you had moved in from, and spewed random facts about anything to temporarily make you forget about the storm raging outside. But the torrential rain wasn't letting up and the lightning was only getting closer and closer. He made you realize you had to make a run for it and even offered up his umbrella for you. You had thanked him with tears in your eyes and made a run for it on the count of three when you were settled just enough.

Inside the lobby of your apartment building, you had stood there trembling while Spencer nervously gripped onto the strap of his messenger bag as he stood across from you. When you were shaking the water off his umbrella, you hesitantly told him your reasoning for your freak-out. It wasn't necessarily the thunderstorm, but rather the torrential rain that wasn't letting up. A few years back you had a drowning incident and too much water on your face tended to bring back those memories. He said he understood and then with a sympathy tinged smile he offered to walk you to your apartment. It was a pleasant surprise to learn you had only lived two doors down from him.

Weeks turned into months and months into a couple of years, and you and Spencer were nearly inseparable when you both had the same day/night off.

So after quickly fixing your already messy hair so you don't look like a complete slob, and pulling on a loose hoodie, you grab your phone from the sofa and then head on out. Your socked feet keep your footsteps quiet as you head down to Spencer's door where you knock three times on it before opening it up and stepping inside.

But before you can greet him with a cheesy welcome, he's already calling out, "Hope you haven't had dinner. I picked up some burgers on the way home."

On cue, your stomach grumbles. "God bless you, you beautiful, beautiful man!" You hear him laugh from a room that's not where his kitchen is, so you make a beeline for the kitchen instead of accidentally walking in on him changing. There are two paper bags on the table and you quickly grab plates from his cabinet to separate the food on. Spencer enters the kitchen in a shirt and some gray joggers, and you greet him with a beaming smile. "You're home and in one piece! Yay!" He laughs and you quickly lean in to peck his cheek, not saying a word when you catch sight of his pink tinged cheeks. "You have any beer?"

"Yes. Grab two, please."

"Got it." You hear one of his kitchen chairs creak as you open his refrigerator to grab two beers, you then searching a nearby drawer for the bottle opener. Once you find it, you walk back over to the table and open each beer before handing one over to him.

"Thanks."

"Mhm." Taking a seat, you set your beer down before unwrapping your burger and dumping your fries out onto the plate. "So what's up, doc? You're home surprisingly early."

"We've hit a wall on our latest case," he says, keeping it vague. "There was nothing for us to do while Garcia did her thing, so Emily sent us home for a bit."

"Nice." You take a bite of your burger and your eyes widen when Spencer's eyebrows raise in surprise. When you realize how your words sounded, you're quick to backtrack. "Wait! It's not nice that you hit a wall, but nice that you got sent home! I got free food out of it. That's why it's nice. Not because, you know, you haven't found the-"

"Y/N, you're rambling," Spencer says, lips twitching. "I understood what you meant."

You sigh, shoulders dropping, and grab half a fry to toss at him. "Eat your food, Reid. It's getting cold."

It surprisingly doesn't take long for the two of you to eat your dinner, you both being hungrier than you first thought. After you're done, Spencer turns down a second beer but tells you to help yourself. You do. And on the way into his living room, you bump into one of his chairs and knock his bag over. You gasp and set your beer down on the coffee table, falling to your knees to scoop up his files that had spilled out.

Chuckling, Spencer crouches next to you as you profusely apologize.

"It's okay. It was an accident." A few pictures had slid out of their files and normally you'd just shove them back in because his work wasn't any of your business, but the face staring back up at you makes you pause. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a little heavy on the eyeliner, and a lip piercing. You know her. "Y/N?" You gulp and flip to another picture- brown hair, brown eyes, mole above the right eyebrow. You know her too. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

With trembling hands, you flip back to the first picture and show it to him. "Is Lilian dead?"

Spencer's eyes widen. "You knew her?"

Knew. Past tense. She is dead. Showing him the second picture, you nod sadly. "Kyndall too."

He seems to stop breathing then and from one moment to the next he's opening files and pulling out picture after picture. As you stare at each of them, you grimace and swallow down the bile that's threatening to climb its way up your throat. "Y/N, do you know any of the others?"

Shakily exhaling, you point at each picture. "Desiree, Celeste, Maria. I don't know this one, but I think her last name was Valdez? And then the male is Tim."

Spencer falls on his butt, staring at you in surprise. "That's right. We know their names and their current line of work, but that's about it. Their files only seem to go back a few years. Everything between the end of their high school career and current line of work seems to be scrubbed clean. Do you- do you know of any connection between these people? Any little thing you know can possibly be a big help to my team."

Your gaze darts up to him and your heart sinks. You've managed to keep your past mostly hidden, but now it seems the time has come to tell him what you did before. "They, uh, they're all ex-agents of SHIELD. The real SHIELD, not HYDRA."

"What?"

"If I remember correctly, they were computer analysts or paper pushers. They had gun training as one would think an agent would have, but they were agents who didn't really have to train in hand-to-hand since they never made it out into the field."

"You're positive? How do you know this?"

You gulp. "Because I'm ex-SHIELD too."

Spencer blinks at you, but then in the next moment he's up on his feet and reaching for his phone. He places a quick phone call, stepping into another room and leaving you alone. Your stomach sinks and you have a feeling that this confession might have just put a wedge in your friendship. After all, though ex-agents were being picked up by other different branches of the government, you weren't sure just how exactly trustworthy all ex-agents were being treated.

Spencer reappears, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear. "Do you mind coming with me back to work? My co-workers could really pick your brain about this."

You blink at him. "W-What? You're not mad at me?"

"Mad?" He chuckles. "Why would I be mad? I mean I wish I had known what you did so I didn't have to worry about you being alone when I left for a case, but I can see why you would keep that underwraps. HYDRA made a lot of people paranoid."

"Tell me about it," you mumble. Then after a few seconds, you finally climb up to your own two feet. "Um, just let me go put on some shoes. I'll meet you in the hall."

Spencer's smile and nod eases some of your worries, but you still quickly make an escape to go put on some shoes. Your front door bangs open and you hurry to your hall closet. Yanking open that door, you pull on the first pair of Converse you come across. Then taking a moment to think, you grab a pair of knee high boots that you use every once in a while. Reaching inside, you grab your old badge and a USB stick, sticking your badge in your back pocket and the USB in your front pocket. Then grabbing your keys from the hook by the front door, you shut the door after exiting and lock it. Spencer is waiting down the hall for you and you jog towards him. He tightly smiles and then leads you downstairs, towards his car, and you sit quietly in his passenger seat while he drives.

On the way towards Spencer's place of work, he can't help but ask, "So what exactly did you do with SHIELD if you don't mind me asking."

You shrug. "Cat's out of the bag now, so I don't mind." You chuckle though it kind of falls flat. "I was, uh, a computer analyst for a while. But then I was taken on a field trip with a few agents and we ended up trading bullets with several not so nice guys. The field agents liked the way I handled myself and requested I level up, so to speak."

"And you never thought of trying to get hired on with anyone else? If I recall, the FBI and CIA were picking up ex-SHIELD agents after the fall."

You shake your head. "Remember that drowning incident I mentioned? Or the reason why I can't take baths anymore and have to turn my shower on and off between washing?" Spencer hums, remembering what he thought were odd quirks until he realized it was all because of your fear of certain amounts of water. "That drowning incident was HYDRA's fault. I spent months in rehab and just- well, no one wanted a damaged agent."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm kind of glad they didn't. I quite like my neighbor who picks up take-out and bakes sweets for me after a rough case."

You try not to think too much about his words and instead choose to smile at him before looking out your window. The drive is only about twenty minutes and fortunately the radio fills in the semi-tense silence.

When you get to the FBI building, Spencer escorts you inside with a hand at the small of your back. You're given a visitor's badge and you quickly clip it onto the hem of your hoodie. The elevator ride up to the BAU's main floor is a short one and it opens up to a wall of glass where you can see several desks behind it.

Spencer opens the door for you and you can't help but make yourself seem as small as possible. You cross your arms over your chest, hugging yourself as you enter the room. There are several people milling about, but no one pays you any attention. Only one female, dark bangs covering her forehead while the rest of her hair falls just passed her shoulders, heads towards you once she spots you and Spencer.

"Y/N," Spencer says, introducing you to the woman as she nears, "this is our Unit Chief Emily Prentiss. Emily, this is my good friend Y/N Y/L/N."

Emily is all smiles as she reaches to shake your hand. "Hi! It's nice to finally meet the girl who takes care of our boy wonder after cases."

Spencer nervously chuckles and you find yourself genuinely grinning. "It's nice to finally meet you too. I've heard some funny stories about all you guys."

"I will neither confirm nor deny any of those."

Emily then leads you towards a room where three others are waiting. "Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Friend of Spence and ex-agent of SHIELD. Y/N, this is Special Agent Derek Morgan and Jennifer Jareau, and our very own technical analyst Penelope Garcia."

Everyone happily greets you and Jennifer even gives you the go ahead to call her JJ. You're offered a seat at their round table and you glance at their board filled with pictures of people you used to work with. Spencer sits next to you and you offer him a feeble smile when he reaches beneath the table to squeeze your knee.

"Alright, guys, I know we're all interested in the girl who lives next to Spence, but we need to get down to business." Spencer groans as his teammates all chuckle. "So Y/N, is there anything else you can give us about the victims? What exactly did they do? Did they all personally know each other or just enough because they were coworkers? Even the smallest bit of info that you think is inconsequential can help us."

"I, uh, I can do you one better," you say. You shift in your seat and reach into your front pocket, pulling out the USB stick. "Since I figure all those NDA's we signed are now null and void thanks to Agent Romanoff's data dump, and because you're Spencer's friend, I feel comfortable handing this over. It kind of made me nervous keeping it in my house anyway."

You slide the USB towards Penelope and she gasps, snatching it up and holding it as if it were the holy grail. "Is this- are these files? Because let me tell you, I tried to download those files as soon as they hit the net but there were just so many and not even our WiFi could download it fast enough before they were scrubbed clean."

You grin and nod, chuckling at Penelope's squeal. "I started collecting everyone's files that I could get my hands on. I started with the baby agents- agents whose files wouldn't toss up red flags when their files were opened. The more clearance I was granted, the more files I was able to download."

"Oh my god. Yes! You are my new favorite person." Penelope rushes around the table, bending down to kiss your cheek with a loud mwah! "Reid, keep this one. I'll be in my lair."

The group all chuckle as you blush, but then Agent Morgan is clearing his throat. "Not that I'm not grateful about what you're giving up, but isn't what you were doing illegal?"

You shrug. "It possibly was, but then Director Fury realized I was memorizing it all and didn't have a problem with it so long as those files didn't leave my office."

"But you have them on you now," Morgan says.

"Yeah. The USB was hidden within my belongings in my office. My office surprisingly survived unscathed after Captain Rogers crashed the helicarriers into the Potomac, and my stuff was packed up and shipped to me while I was in rehab."

"If you don't mind me asking," JJ wonders, "but were you at the Triskelion when HYDRA came out or..?"

"I don't mind the questions at all," you say. "It's actually quite nice to talk about it with people who aren't eyeing me suspiciously." The group flashes you small smiles. "I was actually on a consulting job with a recently formed SHIELD team whose base was a humongous plane that was constantly on the move. Anyway, one of those trusted team members ended up being HYDRA. He led a group of his men onto the plane, killed half of us to get control of it, and then locked me and two scientists into a holding pod before dropping us into the middle of the ocean."

"The drowning incident," Spencer suddenly realizes.

You smile sadly at him, nodding. "We sank to the bottom of the ocean floor. There were three of us and only one little oxygen tank." Spencer grabs your hand beneath the table and you're grateful for the grounding pressure. "We gave it to Jemma. Fitz and I were going to attempt to swim, but we didn't make it. Fitz blacked out first, then me, and then- then nothing. We woke up in a trusted SHIELD facility, and Fitz and I couldn't operate like we used to. With our brains having been deprived of oxygen, it messed us up for a while."

"Wow," Emily says. "I am so sorry."

You shrug at her with a small smile. "It was all part of the job."

"What do you do now?" Morgan asks. "I hate to say it, but with all our victims being ex-SHIELD, and you as well, we have to rule you out as-"

"I get it." You smile in reassurance at him since it kind of pained him to admit that you could be a suspect and have Spencer glare at him for even thinking it. "I'm a bouncer at a bar most nights."

Morgan chuckles. "A bouncer? You!?"

"Hey! I might not look like much, but I did train with Avengers. I could probably give you a run for your money, agent Morgan."

"Okay, okay," he muses.

"I also work as private security for Stark Industries when they throw galas. If you need the exact dates I've been working, I can get that for you."

"Please," JJ says. "Spencer's already vouched for you, but protocol and all that. You understand."

"I do. I'll just- I'll text my bosses to email my clock-ins and clock-outs."

Pulling out your phone, you immediately text your boss at the bar and Pepper Potts. You keep the explanation vague as to why you need it, but assure them it's very much needed for a case the FBI is working on. They completely understand and you even have to make Pepper swear not to get Tony involved.

The emails come in not even ten minutes later and JJ happily takes your phone to run the dates with Penelope, promising to be quick about it. You remain in your seat, watching as Morgan and Emily walk towards the board and start tossing their thoughts back and forth over what they've learned so far.

Your hands are atop the table, thumbs chipping away the already chipped nail polish you have on. The second you raise your hand with the intent of chewing on your thumb nail, Spencer catches your hand. "You okay?" He quietly asks and you stare at him. He then lets your hand go as you pull them back into your lap.

"Yeah. Just getting kind of tired. And a bit anxious. Someone's targeting ex-SHIELD agents and I- well I'm one of those people."

"No one is going to hurt you, Y/N. I promise."

You feebly smile, not taking his words to heart because you know he can't actually keep that promise. He might want to, but you know better than to take these types of promises seriously in situations such as this.

JJ reappears, a bright smile in place as she hands you your phone. "I'm pretty sure Penelope programmed her number in there."

"That's fine." You chuckle. You lay your phone on the table, giving your attention back to Emily and Morgan who's now being joined by JJ.

"Guys, Garcia is having a ball right now. There's so much information she wasn't privy to before, but I'm not sure how any of it is going to help more than Y/N already has." Emily and Morgan look at JJ, waiting for her to explain. "We already know victims weren't the best at hand-to-hand, which the unsub clearly took advantage of. But we need to know what they were presently doing and if they were checking in with anyone because there are a lot of dead ex-agents. That's not a coincidence. Either someone who's ex-SHIELD or HYDRA is picking off ex-agents one by one, or someone who has a grudge against SHIELD found a list of ex-agents and is working their way down the list."

"Where do we even start?" Morgan asks, incredulous. "SHIELD technically doesn't exist anymore and those who are operating in the shadows are nearly impossible to track down thanks to the Avengers. None of them are exactly easy to get a hold of after General Ross made it his personal mission to bring in James Buchanan Barnes for crimes HYDRA made him commit. They like working on their own."

"We'd have to jump through a bunch of hoops just to get a face to face," Emily says, sighing. "If we're lucky they'll want in on the case since it's related to SHIELD."

"Um, actually.." You nervously raise your hand, calling all attention on you. "You can bypass all those hoops."

Emily stares at you, sitting on the edge of the table as she crosses her arms over her chest. "You still have connections, don't you?" At your sheepish grin, she huffs in amusement. Every other team member straightens with hope in their expressions.

"Agent Prentiss, I am the connection." As you pick up your phone once more, JJ and Morgan step closer to the table. You scroll through your contacts, finding the one you need and tapping on it. Then putting it on speaker, you try to soothe your nerves as the ringing through the speaker seems to make the atmosphere of the room become tense.

The ringing stops as the connection is made and then, "Well, well, well. If it isn't my second favorite human on God's green Earth." You roll your eyes at the charm oozing from him. "What kind of trouble are you in now, doll?"

Emily and JJ's eyes widen, and you shake your head in amusement. "Put your boyfriend on the line, Barnes. I'm calling in a favor."

"Are you calling to finally take us up on that offer of joining us for a night?"

Everyone in the room seems to freeze, although Morgan is highly enjoying where this seems to be going. You close your eyes, scrunching up your nose. You can't believe they just heard that. "Steve really needs to put a muzzle on you."

"Well if you're into that-"

"Bucky!" You bark. "You're on speaker." Morgan finally loses the battle with his laughter and you wish you can sink into your chair. Instead you have to settle for just insanely blushing and covering your face with one hand. "I'm currently with the BAU of the FBI. They have a case that they could use some help on."

"Oh." There's a beat of silence. "Christ, Y/N. You should have stopped me sooner. Stevie's gonna lecture me again. Hold on. I'll go get him."

The line goes silent and you nervously meet Spencer's gaze. He's the only one who doesn't seem as amused which is why you don't find Bucky's greeting as funny as you normally would. Something about his expression actually makes you wish Bucky hadn't said anything.

"Y/N?"

You sit a little straighter in your seat. "Hey, Cap."

"What's going on? Buck mentioned the FBI."

"Uh yeah. I'm with Agents Prentiss, Morgan, Jareau, and Doctor Reid," you tell him. "They've been dealing with a case that had gone cold and well I kind of made a connection they hadn't seen before because they couldn't, and uh I'm sure they could use your help."

"What was the connection?"

You look at Emily and she nods, letting you tell him. "Steve, all the victims are ex-SHIELD. Specifically agents who wouldn't have had too much training; who couldn't hold their own without a gun in hand."

There's a sharp inhale. "What do they need?"

Emily's eyes close in relief and she holds her hand out for your phone. You happily oblige her and hand it over. "Captain Rogers, this is Special Agent Emily Prentiss. I'm the one in charge of my team here."

"Hello, Agent Prentiss. How can my team and I be of help?"

"Well we mainly need to pick your brains and ask some questions. We're aware that SHIELD is still operating to an extent, even if it is in the shadows, so we'd like to know if the victims were still affiliated with you. If we're dealing with someone who is or was from SHIELD or HYDRA, we'd like to have you involved since you have more experience with how they operate."

"That's fine. I'll gather my team and set up a room. Are you okay to set up base here in the Compound?"

"Yes!" JJ says, starting everyone. She clears her throat and calms herself. "Yes."

Steve chuckles. "Very well. Gather everything you need. I'll be sending a quinjet for you all since it'll be faster. Y/N knows the pick-up location."

"Thank you so much, Captain Rogers."

Emily hands you the phone and seeing that the call is still connected, you say, "Hey, Steve? Thanks for this."

"It's not a problem, sweetheart. Are you okay though? You're an ex-shield agent yourself."

"I know, but nothing has been out of the ordinary. I'm okay."

"Good. You coming too?"

"I was actually planning on going home after driving the agents to the location. I'm not an active agent anymore, bub."

"I know you're not, but with that agent neighbor of yours coming here I rather have you here as well so we can keep an eye on you." You sigh at his protectiveness. "Bring a change of clothes for a week. I'll have Nat get a hold of your boss and let him know some of what's going on so you'll have a job to go back to once all of this is over."

"You're a pain in the ass, Rogers."

Steve laughs. "See you soon, Y/L/N."

The call ends and you set your phone down. Glancing up, you smile sheepishly at the team staring at you. "So, uh, I guess I'm tagging along. Sorry about that."

Emily opens her mouth, her words getting stuck as she shakes her head in amusement. "Don't be. You got us working with the Avengers within minutes as opposed to taking hours, possibly even a day if I had to put in a request."

Morgan whistles appreciatively. "This is insane. I'm gonna give Garcia a heads up about our field trip. Expect another tag a long. I don't think she'll pass up this opportunity."

You chuckle as JJ says, "Rossi is going to be so pissed he took a vacation and missed out on working with the Avengers." Then looking at you, she adds, "Do you think Spider-Man will be there? My son absolutely loves him and I would be the coolest mom ever if I got a picture or video with him."

"I'm sure Pe- uh, I'm sure Spider-Man will make an appearance," you say. "He's always hanging around after his classes are done for the day."

JJ's eyes widen. "You totally know who he is."

"I do. And let me tell you, he absolutely adores kids. Ask and he'll happily oblige."

"Guys. Guys!" Emily says. "Case first, fangirl later."

Spencer snorts and you elbow him on reflex. He grumbles, Emily and JJ grin, and you innocently smile at Emily. "Sorry, Agent Prentiss. I'll just- I'll go sit on that couch over there so I'm not in the way."

Emily starts telling her team what needs to be done, repeating herself again when Morgan returns with a clearly excited Garcia. Morgan informs everyone he'll go gather the boxes of files while Spencer immediately sets out to disassemble the board of pictures and post-its. Garcia excitedly rushes back to her own office to pack up a few things, while Emily and JJ figure out what all they'll need to be taking with them.

To keep yourself occupied, you waste a few minutes by playing a game on your phone.

You're not sure how much time has passed, but someone hesitantly sitting next to you takes your attention off your phone. Glancing up, you see Spencer sitting there and realize everyone else has cleared out of the room. "We should be ready to head out in about ten minutes."

"Oh. Okay."

There's a moment of silence and then, "Soo.. Bucky Barnes." He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, and you can tell his amusement isn't exactly genuine. "He's- he's not the type of person I pictured you with if I'm being honest."

"Barnes?" You snort. "Ew. No." Spencer seems surprised by your reply. "Bucky likes to flirt with me because he knows it won't go anywhere. He's well aware of the actual person I have a crush on and he respects that. Mostly."

"O-Oh? So there is someone in the picture then?"

"Well, not really," you say. Squirming in your seat, you're not totally comfortable with the direction this talk has taken until you see you're not the only one squirming. Spencer is avoiding eye contact, but he's also clearly awaiting your answer. There's also a telltale flush up the side of his neck to the tips of his ears, and- oh. Oh. Seeing how nervous Spencer suddenly is makes you feel better. So better, in fact, that you feel you should speak up about something that you've kept secret for a while. "Well I mean I'd like there to be," you say, grinning when he freezes. "The thing is, he actually lives down the hall from me." Cue him holding his breath. "He's totally adorable, but also secretly hot which is so unfair, and he works for the FBI." Spencer's head snaps in your direction, eyes wide. You smile sheepishly and shrug. "The only downfall is that he's way too good for someone like me, so I settled for friendship."

Your heart is beating terribly fast and the only thing keeping you glued to your seat is Spencer grinning bashfully, cheeks pink. "If you ask me, I don't think he's too good at all. I-If anything, he probably thinks you were too good for him which is why he never made his own feelings known."

Relief washes over you and you laugh. "We're idiots, huh?"

Lips pressed together, he smiles wide. Then, "A little."

"Rain check on this discussion? We've got Avengers to greet and you have a case to solve."

"Of course!" Spencer hastily stands, offering you a hand up. Grinning, you take it and let him pull you to your feet while shoving your phone into your back pocket. "Wherever we're going, is it okay to leave our vehicles there?"

"Yeah. It's private property and pretty secluded. No one gets in without codes."

"Okay then. We'll swing by our building for your bag and then you can direct one of the drivers while the other follows."

"Sure. Sounds like a plan."

Because of the connection between the list of victims, you have an escort up to your apartment while you pack a bag. Emily and JJ happily accompany you, leaving Spencer to fend for himself with Morgan and Garcia.

In your apartment, the two female agents waste no time in subtly trying to figure out your exact feelings for their dear friend and you take great amusement in skirting around the answer they so desperately try to pry out of you. And it's only after your duffel is packed do you tell them you and Spencer had admitted some things to each other, but you are planning to talk about it further after their case is closed. JJ seems oddly giddy and Emily coos about their boy genius growing up. You blush, relieved that they've taken a to liking to you. Then when you get back to the vehicles, you know Spencer has been questioned as well given the smirks being sent your way.

The drive to the field isn't long and the team is impressed by the level of security for a seemingly abandoned airfield. There's an unmanned gate which you get off at to speak for voice recognition, punch in a specific code, give a hand print, and then secretly have your forefinger pricked for a blood sample. Then when the gate swings open, you quickly climb back into the car and instruct Emily towards the second gate where a guard sits. The guard greets you warmly and, after you introduce those in the vehicle with you, he assures you he knows all about the impending pick-up.

"So what exactly are we in for?" Morgan asks. You're all waiting in an opened hangar, the boxes they'd packed sitting on the ground.

"Your perceptions about them are about to be changed," you admit. "I'm sure you've all told yourselves that the Avengers are just like you and I, but you have no idea how true that it is until you meet them."

"Who is the nicest?" JJ wonders.

You take a moment to think about. "Honestly? They're all nice, but if I had to choose I'd choose Spider-Man. It's hard not to like him. The kid's a puppy."

"Who gives the best hugs?" Garcia quickly adds.

Everyone chuckles at her eagerness. "That's a tough one," you say. You ponder on it for a moment. "I say it's a tie between Steve and Thor. They hug full on, chest to chest. None of that half-assed, one arm hug nonsense."

Garcia practically swoons. "Oh to be wrapped up in those beefy Asgardian arms." You snort and shake your head in amusement.

Another twenty minutes pass and you regale Spencer and his friends about some of your work with SHIELD. But all too soon the telltale sound of a quinjet reaches your ears and when you look up you see one incoming.

"Well that was hella fast," Garcia muses when she spots the quinjet herself.

JJ grins. "Stark technology. Gotta love it."

Emily nods in agreement. "We definitely need an upgrade."

Whoever is flying the quinjet lands it with ease, and Spencer, Morgan, and JJ immediately pick up their boxes. Shouldering the strap of your duffel bag, you start heading towards the quinjet when the ramp is being lowered and the team follows a few steps behind.

Clint Barton walks off the ramp and you chuckle, hurrying your steps. Both your arms go around his neck and one of his arms wraps low around your waist. "Short stack," he says. "What trouble did you get into now?"

"Why does everyone assume I'm in trouble?" You pout as you pull back, pinching his cheek and cooing before stepping back out of range. "And what are you even doing here? Shouldn't you be on the farm with those precious little heathens?"

"I was, but Laura had leftovers for Nat and Wanda. I was just dropping them off when Steve rounded up the team."

"Oh nice." Then turning around, you gesture to the BAU team. "Clint, meet Special Agents Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Doctor Spencer Reid, and the brains of the beauty of the team Miss Penelope Garcia. Guys, meet Clint Barton formerly known as Hawkeye."

Everyone shakes hands, with the exception of Garcia who slaps his hand away and pulls him into a hug.

"Baby girl," Morgan laughs, "what are you doing?"

She squeezes a chuckling Clint before letting go, she then whirling on her own friend. "This is my first time meeting the Avengers. Do not take this from me!" Morgan's eyebrows raise in amusement, the whole team and Clint chuckling.

Then not wasting anymore time, Clint ushers everyone on board. He shows them where the boxes and your bag can be stowed before taking the pilot's seat up front, only to be joined by Morgan moments later in the co-pilot seat. You show Emily and Garcia how to buckle in, and then take your own seat between JJ and Spencer.

Clint counts down for lift off and you grip your harness as you feel the quinjet take flight. Spencer nudges you with his elbow and you glance at him, grinning to assure him you're okay. But when you can feel the quinjet picking up speed thanks to the feeling in your gut, you close your eyes and are thankful that no one brings up the fact that you're actually really nervous right now.

Your left hand is grabbed and gently pried from your grip on the harness, and your eyes fly open in surprise. You look towards your left and JJ smiles at you reassuringly as she squeezes your hand in comfort. Then when your right hand is grabbed and given the same treatment, you glance over at Spencer and can't help but blurt, "I-I've never been nervous about flying before."

"It's perfectly normal to subconsciously be nervous or anxious after we trudged up your past earlier," he says. "Just close your eyes and relax. We won't let anything happen to you."

You nod, smiling shakily and turn your head to rest it against the headrest of your seat. Then closing your eyes, you're grateful for the team not asking you anything for the duration of the ride. Instead, they save their questions for Clint who's all too happy to answer what he can.

You know the Compound's come into view when Morgan whistles in appreciation. Clint lands to quinjet with ease and then everyone's unbuckling themselves when he gives the go ahead. Before you can grab your bag, however, Spencer is grabbing it and beaming at you when you sigh with mock annoyance.

One by one the BAU team disembarks after Clint, leaving you and Spencer to bring up the rear. You hear Clint introducing everyone and notice everyone's congregated around in a circle. Then just as you and Spencer join, you notice that Garcia is petting Bucky's vibranium arm. You snort, catching an amused Steve's attention.

"Y/N," he greets.

"Steve." You step forward, briefly hugging him and then Bucky. As you step back in line, you gesture towards Spencer to introduce him. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid. Spence, this is Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes."

Steve leans in for a handshake, but then pauses mid-shake. "Wait. Spencer Reid? The Spencer Reid?" He grins. "Are you- are you and the agent neighbor one in the same?"

You sharply inhale, eyes widening when everyone turns to stare at your rapidly blushing face. Steve's grin turns rather teasing and your eyes narrow at him. "Two words; octopus dick." Steve's amusement vanishes, and everyone turns towards a now blushing Steve as Bucky guffaws. You turn your gaze on him next. "I don't know why you're laughing, dolphin boy."

Bucky immediately shuts up and Steve shakily grins before addressing the team. "Okay! Now that we've all been introduced, lets get inside before Y/N starts a war she can't finish."

Morgan and JJ are the only two to follow after Steve, Bucky, and Clint. Emily and Garcia remain with you and Spencer, and both females look to you with pleading eyes.

"Please tell me how four innocuous words got two supersoldiers to blush like that?" Garcia asks, Emily nodding along with her. "I need to know!"

"Sorry, girls," you tell them. "Those stories get out and I'm dead meat."

The both of them grumble about not getting answers, but move on without fuss. Before you can follow, however, Spencer steps closer to you. "You won't even tell me?" He asks, voice quiet.

You huff. "You already know."

Spencer's answering smile is enough to make you roll your eyes and he's quick to keep pace with you as you enter the building. There are numerous people milling about, but since it's late most of the trainees are in bed. Every piece of furniture and fixture still seems brand spanking new, so you don't blame the BAU team looking around in awe.

Heading into the chosen office, you lead Spencer inside before catching Steve's attention. "I'm gonna let you guys get to work. I'll be setting up in my room if anyone needs me."

No one objects, so after taking your bag from Spencer you take your leave. You leisurely make your way towards the living quarters of the compound and find your room with ease. Opening the door, the familiarity of it brings a tired smile to your face. The lamps have been turned on, awaiting your arrival, and even the TV has been turned on with its volume on low. The walls and bedding is the same as everyone else has, but you know it's your room because of the personal pictures on the dresser and bedside tables.

Since you're going to be staying until the case is over and then probably a couple days more after, you decide to put your clothes in the dresser rather than leave it in your bag for the entire time. After that's done and you've switched your TV to a movie you like, you pick out a standard set of black sleep pants and a blue/gray shirt that every trainee at the compound wears to bed so you can shower before crawling into bed yourself.

You're grateful for the private bathroom and even more grateful to see the products you use already waiting for you. You turn on the water to the shower, grab a towel from the bathroom closet and set it on the counter along with your change of clothes before you start to strip.

You keep your hair in a topknot as you shower since you had washed it earlier that morning, so your shower is over within ten minutes. Then by the time you're dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, and your teeth are brushed, you exit the bathroom.

Stepping into your room, you startle at the sight of Spencer sitting on the small cushioned bench at the foot of your bed. He's staring up at the moving playing, the corner of his lips quirked up in amusement. But at your small gasp, he looks towards you, lips spreading into a fond smile.

"Captain Rogers said it was okay that I wait for you. I don't mean to intrude."

"Spence," you huff a laugh and then continue on towards your bed, "we have keys to each other's apartments and sometimes barge in without warning. I think you waiting in here is more than okay."

"Just needed to make sure," he says, "what with this being a new place and all."

"Mhmm." You sit on the edge of the bed that's right behind the bench, putting your feet on the cushion beside Spencer and practically hug your knees as you stare at him. "How did everyone settle in?"

"E-Everyone's good." Spencer turns sideways, grinning up at you. "We got our own rooms here so we don't have to be back and forth from a hotel. When we left, Garcia was being introduced to the holographic tables and now I don't think she's going to sleep tonight."

You chuckle. "I knew she'd fall prey to all the pretty tech here." He chuckles along with you. "And how did everyone take the news to hearing the details about the case?"

"They're taking it very personally," Spencer tells you. "Mr. Barton even asked to stay on as a consultant. He and agent Romanoff are not very happy."

"Well they might not be as smart as you, Doc, but I think they're going to be a big help. You guys will be out of here in no time with the bad guy in cuffs."

"Is that so?" He muses. You grin and nod. "And if we're out of here in no time, are we still waiting until you go home for that discussion we still need to have?"

"We can table the discussion," you say, "but I really need to do this before I chicken out."

"Do what?"

Without thinking too much more about it, you reach out to cradle Spencer's jaw in the palms of your hands. You bring his face closer to yours, pausing with barely an inch between your lips. It seems he's held his breath in surprise, but when he notices you're waiting for some sort of unspoken permission it's him who closes the gap.

There's nothing heated or rushed about the kiss- it merely being a chaste kiss of several little pecks before he catches your bottom lip between his teeth. You smile, your lip popping free from where it stretches, and you giggle as he leans up to chase your lips.

"Ahem." The interruption causes you to jerk back from Spencer, eyes wide when you catch sight of Bucky leaning against your door jamb and looking quite smug. "Hope I'm not interrupting." You groan, laying your forehead on Spencer's shoulder while he quietly snorts. "So with this new development, does this mean our threesome will now be a foursome?"

You can't help but laugh and sit straight once more so you can see your friend. Unfortunately, the question actually gives you pause and there's a split second where you actually give it thought. But in the next moment your nose wrinkles and you shake your head. "What? No!"

He points at you, eyes gleaming. "You paused! You paused which means that no just turned into a maybe. I'm gonna go tell Stevie we're back in the game!"

"James!" Spencer finally laughs and you groan again when Bucky pushes off the door jamb, whistling as he walks away. "I hate my friends."

"Just wait until Morgan finds out. It'll be worse." Spencer chuckles as you sigh, and he gets up before walking around to the side of your bed. He places his palms down on the mattress, leaning over you to kiss you once more. "I'm gonna go to my room before Sergeant Barnes brings back reinforcements."

"Okay. I'll probably see you around the compound, but I'll do my best to stay out of your hair while you're looking for your unsub."

"Are we still talking after?"

"Of course. Well we can either talk or order in some Chinese and hole up in one of our apartments for a weekend. Your call."

"I like the second option," he says.

"I figured you would." You kiss him one last time and then push against his chest. "Now go. We'll figure things out soon."

#spencer reid x reader #marvel gen fic x reader #avengers imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #marvel imagine #spencer reid #steve rogers #bucky barnes #clint barton #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #penelope garcia #derek morgan #fanficimagery

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deadinside-butstill-horny · 3 years

Text

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed. A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other. The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know.

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah… you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving. He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.” You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…” Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host. You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy... He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention, you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier. He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching. He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system. You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve...

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love. This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own. Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

Part Two

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #pedro pascal x reader #I LOVE THE BLACK FUCKING SHIRT #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #murphy!reader

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jediken0bi · 3 years

Text

At The End Of The Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:

Reid is scared his Job is eventually going to take away the thing he loves the most. You.

word count: 2023

Spencer sat on the counter in the kitchen, sipping on his sugary coffee and watching you move around the room. You decided you wanted homemade Waffles this morning and Spencer made the quick decision to not even attempt to lend a helping hand. He usually ends up burning half of the food anyway so you're not complaining.

And if you're being honest you liked being able to do something nice for him while he relaxes. It's not like that's something you get to see all that often.

You really only get to have Spencer to yourself on the Weekends and even then your time together isn't always guaranteed.

That's something you guys struggled with a lot. He even more so than you now that you think about it. He is so quick to beat himself up over not being able to spend more time with you and it breaks your heart.

Of course you would like to see your boyfriend more often but you know how much he loves his Job and you would never ask him to quit or hold his crazy schedule against him.

After all, it's not Spencers fault serial killers don't take the weekends off.

You throw little glances at Spencer every time you add a little bit of batter into the Waffle Maker and each time you find him already looking at you with loving eyes and a silly smile plastered on his face.

You can't help but giggle a bit before shaking your head lightly.

There are certainly days where you can't wrap your head around the fact that the genius with the pretty face feels the same affection towards you as you do.

Another minute goes by before he puts his coffee down, pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you to carefully wrap his arms around your waist.

"Someone is awfully cuddly this morning", you say with a huge smile on your face. You lean into his touch so he knows you don't actually mind the closeness.

He still has days where he can't tell whether or not you're making a lighthearted joke or are trying to reject his advances. It took him a long time to be able to initiate physical contact without you having to make the first move or ask for it.

That's not because he didn't love you though. He simply didn't know what to do in a relationship.

He was trying to figure out the do's and don't's and you were more than happy to help him learn and understand what it means to be truly loved by someone.

Nowadays he doesn't hesitate to seek comfort in your arms and there's nothing you can think of that makes you happier than that.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to feel at home with you.

He put his head on your shoulder and smiled into the crease of your neck

"I can't help it. I haven't seen you in 8 days, 5 hours and 24 minutes and now that i'm here i don't wanna waste a single second of it"

You silently put the last Waffle on the plate you set out and turned your head so you could face him.

You try to catch his eyes and as soon as you do, you press a light peck onto his pink lips.

"I missed you so much", you say while he softly grabs your waist to turn you around positioning you so that you're facing him.

He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheek and suddenly stops right before your lips.

"I missed you too, my love"

Before you can form an answer he plants a firm and loving kiss on your lips making you forget about breakfast for a second.

But only for a second.

You start smiling into the kiss and lightly push him away. The distance between you two only big enough to let you catch your breath before you laugh and say

"Let's go eat. We haven't had breakfast together in a bit and i wanna cuddle on the couch and watch some Doctor Who"

He laughs and nods his head so his short curls fall into his face.

You bite your lip to suppress a grin before tucking the lose strand of hair behind his ear.

He reaches behind you to grab the plate and makes his way towards the couch you two picked out just over a month ago.

You follow him immediately, feeling giddy that you get to cuddle your boyfriend for the first time in days.

He puts the plate down, plops down on the couch and immediately opens his arms to invite you to get comfortable in them.

While you snuggle into his chest he grabs the remote and starts queuing Doctor Who Episodes for you guys to watch and analyze together.

You wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head into his neck. You sigh happily and plant tiny kisses on his shoulder and neck.

He tightens one of his arms around you and starts playing with your hair

-time skip-

Almost three hours later, the waffles long gone, you get up to get some drinks for the two of you.

As the credits to the third episode start rolling you can't help but notice that Spencer had gotten unusually quite.

You sit down next to him, put a hand on his arm and ask with a calm voice

"Baby what's wrong? You got so quiet and it looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen at work? Did the case end bad? Whatever it is Spencer i want to be there for you"

He looks at you with wide eyes. Almost like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. He looks guilty and it's making you nervous. You know you can't push him but you would be lying if you said you weren't worried.

He looks down for a second unsure of his next move. He takes a deep breath and hesitantly turns around to look at you.

Your hand immediately finding its place on your boyfriends jaw. Running your thumb over his stubble in a calming matter.

He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a second.

You knew that he would eventually start talking so you had no problem patiently waiting for him to summon the courage to say whatever was on his mind.

"I was talking to Morgan the other day and he said something that got me thinking. Actually, i think it's fair to say that thinking turned into overthinking really quick. Although i don't know anymore. At this point, it might be a completely valid fear and i'm just trying to convince myself it's not. Of course you could apply that logic the other way around as well but - I'm rambling, aren't it", he says in pretty much one breath.

You show him a understanding smile and say,

"Yeah but it's okay. I want to hear what's on your mind. No matter how confusing"

He looks up at me and smiles with sad eyes

"I know you do and that's why the thought of ever losing you drives me completely insane"

You stare at him for a moment not understanding why he would be thinking of losing you before taking his hand into yours and asking

"Spence, do you want to tell me what you and Morgan talked about?"

He sighs loudly and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Looking straight at you he decides 'Now or Never'.

"He just broke up with his girlfriend and we were all trying to be there for him. He seemed completely fine but you never know with Morgan so i went to talk to him about the break up and he just smiled at me and said 'It is what it is, Pretty Boy. Relationships are doomed to break in our line of profession. Enjoy it while it lasts' "

he tells you doing a weird impression of Derek.

Under different circumstances you would've laughed.

You look at Spencer with a small smile on your face. He looks so distressed, you can't help but run your hand through his curls and climb into his lap.

He doesn't waste a second wrapping his arms around you to secure your position and before he can question you, you say

"So that's what this is about? You thinking i might leave you because of your Job?"

He shakes his head slightly and looks up to meet your eyes

"No this is about you deserving a boyfriend who doesn't spend 90% of his time a couple of states away from you every week. It's about me not wanting to make you feel like you come second when there's nothing that's more important to me than you. I would quit my Job if you asked me to. There's plenty of Jobs out there but no one quite like you. I hate to think that you might come to resent me for being away so much"

You run your hand through his curls again and smile softly. It's your turn to shake your head.

"What i deserve is a boyfriend who loves me for who i am. Someone who cares about my feelings and thoughts. Someone who doesn't mind binge watching Doctor Who with me on the weekends because i like that way better than going out. Someone who reads my favorite book so we can have a conversation about it. Someone who shows me how much he cares every single day. And i already have all that. I don't need anything or anyone else. I promise."

Spencers eyes are shut tightly and he leans his forehead on yours. He presses a light kiss to your nose and wistfully admits

"I'm just so scared my Job is going to take you away one day"

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper

"I know a thing or two about that. Baby, you do so much good in the World. I couldn't be more proud if i tried. Let me ask you something. You like your Job, right? Despite everything it asks of you?"

He nods softly and opens his eyes

"I love my Job. Helping people gives me a chance to make a real change. It's what i've always wanted to do."

You smile at him and hum in agreement

"That's right. And you love me too, right?", you ask cheekily

He looks at you like you hung the moon, grabs your hand to press a soft kiss against it and says

"Of course i do. More than anything"

You once again nod in agreement.

"Then you have to understand that the World isn't always 'This or That'. I would never ask you to quit your job for me. I wouldn't want that. I love you too much to take away the thing that fulfills you and makes you happy. Relationships take work, Spencer. I'm not saying it won't be rough sometimes but at the end of the day you're my Clark Kent to the BAU's Superman and i wouldn't change a thing"

He looks at you with loving eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears and whispers

"I'm going to marry you one day, i promise. I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you that you're loved beyond compare"

He starts covering your face in kisses resulting in you laughing at his antics.

This wasn't the first time you two talked about marriage. You knew that he was the man you were going to walk down the aisle to. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

You push him back down on the couch so you can lay down on his chest and say

"Now that we've established that you looove me, i think it's time for you to start the next episode. It's my favorite!"

You said it in a mocking voice but it genuinely did make your heart beat faster and he knew that.

"Damn straight i do", he says as he reaches for the remote.

Weekends with Spencer are simply the best.

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

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