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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

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video stores, shopping malls, and ren faires

remember that post about getting three whole ideas from listening to my soundtrack playlist? uh..yeah, so here's part 1 of 3!

on AO3: video stores, shopping malls, and ren faires | song for this chapter

Working at one of the last remaining Family Video stores in America has its highs and lows.

High: going days without seeing a customer. Low: no idea when the hammer will fall and you’ll be laid off when this branch closes too. High: usually on shift all day by yourself. Low: you’re usually on shift all day by yourself.

(Un?)luckily for Robin, she found herself inundated with four visitors on her shift today.

The first two arrivals were the newest addition to their trauma bonded group (and subject of her best friend’s affections) Eddie Munson, along with his closest non-inducted friend Gareth Emerson.

She glances up at the two as they enter. “Hey, Gareth…what’s up fucker?” she says to each of them in turn.

“Rude.” Eddie says, mock offended, “We go through hell together and all I get is ‘fucker’.” he shakes his head and tsks, leaning his weight on the counter in front of her.

Robin just shrugs, straightening up to stand instead of being hunched over the counter like a shrimp. “That’s how it goes, Munson. Y’all here to rent something, or just bother me?” she asks, rubbing her elbows where they had been pressed to the linoleum countertop.

“Bother you. It’s not like you were busy anyway.”

She acknowledges that with a nonchalant frown and raise of her brow, and hunches back over her twitter feed.

“What’s gonna be the subject of today’s Munson Rant, Emerson?” she asks in his direction.

“Why’d you ask hi–”

“Steve Harrington, what else?” Gareth shrugs, coming around the counter to sit on the spare stool with her.

“Ah, the tried and true favorite.” She nods in understanding. “Let’s hear it then, Munson, what indiscretion has our beloved mother hen done that you’ve latched onto this time?”

Eddie’s quiet, so she looks up from her screen. He’s gaping at the two of them like a fish, eyes darting between her and Gareth.

“Oh! Sorry,” Robin puts her phone face down on the counter and pillows her face on one hand and gesturing for him to continue with her other “You have my full attention.”

Eddie still doesn’t continue, so she turns to Gareth with a sigh, “Care to start us off, Gare-bear?”

“Gladly. This time it was ‘Does he even know what he’s doing when he looks like that?’--don’t ask me what ‘that’ is, I have no clue,” Robin nods along, leaning on her left arm to turn towards Gareth. “Then: ‘Does he know how attractive and unfair he’s being?’ and ‘I can't let myself get suckered in, Gare.’.”

“Oh, you’d love to get suckered in by Steve Harrington.” Robin rolls her head side to look at an incredulous Eddie, waggling her brows.

“What I want and what is theoretically possible are two very different things, Birdie.”

“He speaks!”

“Shut up, Gareth, you two are the worst. I come to you in confidence about my trials and tribulations and all you do is mock me. Mock me!”

“Trials and tribulations..” Robin shakes her head at him. “Two things you wouldn’t be going through if you just admitted your feelings for him!”

“I don’t have feelings for Steve Harrington!”

“Yes you do!” Gareth and Robin both answer.

“I can’t have feelings for that airhead. (“Hey! Take it easy on that poor sweet Dingus!”) I just can’t okay?”

“‘Can’t’ doesn’t mean ‘Don’t’, Eddie.”

“Semantics won’t get you anywhere in this argument, Gare. I do not have feelings for King Steve.”

Robin clenches her jaw at Steve’s old nickname, but stays quiet.

“Here, let me continue for him,” Gareth also seems pissed, “‘Ooh, I’m eddie and I’ve had the hots for Steve sinc—“

“I can’t do it again!”

Robin and Gareth both look over at Eddie at his outburst

“I can’t fall for another straight guy. I don’t have it in me to keep it going, so I’m trying to reverse psychiatry myself into dropping the feelings, okay?”

“…It’s reverse psychology.”

“Semantics, Gare, I thought we already talked about this.” Eddie waves him off, already pacing and chewing on the end of a lock of his hair absentmindedly (‘Ew’, Robin thinks.).

“Look, we all know he’s hot and perfect (“If you say so.” mumbles Gareth); All those damn freckles and moles that are just begging to be kissed, his stupid perfect face with those kind, dreamy eyes, his gorgeous body and hmm that chest hair…” (“Ew..” Robin says, aloud this time.).

He shakes himself out of the thought and continues on. “He loves those kids like they’re his, puts everyone else first to a fault, he pulled me out of literal hell!” He stops his tirade and turns to face her and his friend behind the counter. “I need you to tell me everything you can that he’s ever done that’s gross, or or shitty, just.. anything, Robin, please. I can’t deal with a crush on another unattainable straight man. I won’t survive it. Especially not if it’s Steve Fucking Harrington.”

Robin is quiet, glancing at Gareth briefly before turning her attention back to Eddie. “Sounds like you’re already in love with him Munson.”

“Don’t curse me with that, there’s no way I’m in love with him.” he starts pacing again.

“Uh, yeah way? Did you not just hear yourself? You just went on for like 10 minutes about all the shit you love about Steve!” Gareth points out.

Eddie stops just to blink at him.

“Also, I’m not about to slander my best friend just to make you less horny for him.” Robin cuts back in.

“Not…slander…just—“

“Sorry man, you gotta face facts. You’re head over heels for him.” Gareth cuts him off.

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Nope, no way, I’m not in love with King Steve—

“Stop calling him that you little—“ Robin explodes at him, but takes a breath and continues. “You know damn well he hates that nickname, especially with all the work he’s done to put that part of him behind him.

“And as much as you want to deny it Munson, you are also his friend—or at least he thinks you are—and his friend wouldn’t go around calling him shit he doesn’t like!” She can’t hold back by the last word and shouts it into the empty store.

The other half of her unexpected visitors arrive then.

Robin takes a calming breath at the sound of the jingle above the door, and turns to face her pseudo nephews. Her beloved Dingus’ first-born son, and his youngest, Dustin Henderson and Will Byers.

“Hey kiddos, whatcha need?” Robin checks in first, making sure there’s nothing actually wrong before stepping into her half annoying older sister, half cool uncle role.

“Nothing,” Dustin shrugs, “Just supposed to meet Steve here so he can give us a ride home.” he gestures over his shoulder towards the arcade.

“In that case, welcome to Family Video! We are doing a two for one rental deal right now, your father is bemoaning his feelings about your mother in the corner,” Eddie sputters nonsense at that implication (“Their father?? What the hell, Buckley?!”) but she ignores him and barrels on “and no you can’t have any free candy.”

“Aw man.” Dustin says, at the same time Will asks “Eddie has feelings for Steve?”

Robin and Gareth both groan as Eddie goes back into his rant.

“No! …No matter how good of a guy he might be or how hot he is, that’s just a curse I need to learn to live with if I’m going to stick around you goblins and…”

She has an epiphany then; his almost unhinged levels of ranting about how he very much “does not” have feelings for her best friend reminds her of something. So she pulls out her phone and opens YouTube.

“Hold that thought Munson,” she interrupts him mid-soliloquy about Steve’s arms or chest or something, “You three, you’re all theater kids right? Or musically adjacent?” She addresses Dustin, Will, and Gareth.

“What the hell’s happening right now..” Eddie tries.

“Uh yeah?” Dustin says, confusedly looking at the other two for confirmation, who also nod.

“Okay, back me up on this then.”

Robin starts playing the song over the bluetooth speaker she has behind the counter and immediately the four boys catch on, Eddie groaning in frustration and dropping himself face down on the counter.

‘If there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that.’

“Sounds like Eddie.” Robin states to nods from the other boys, sans Eddie, who responds with a muffled “Fuck. You.”.

‘No man is worth the aggravation,’

“Steve is!” Will yells over the music, Robin pointing at him in emphasis, and catching Eddie’s expression softening already when he turns his head to smile minutely at Baby Byers.

‘That’s ancient history, been there, done that!’ to which Eddie gestures annoyingly towards the speaker, head still on his elbows.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, but starts singing along with the muses; Gareth, Will, and Dustin catch on quickly, adding onto the tune. “Who d'ya think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden…”

“C’mon munson, I know you’ve got some pipes on you!” Robin goads good-naturedly at Eddie.

–

Watching his friends (and his children, apparently) tease him and dance around through his bangs wins him over, and Eddie starts singing along with Meg.

“No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no, no..” he waves his arm out with a shake of his head, standing up from the counter to stalk across the floor.

His friends grin manically, Dustin and Will start over-performing the lyrics as they sing along with the muses, Will catching Dustin in a dramatic swoon. “You swoon, you sigh, why deny it? Uh-Oh!”

“It's too cliche! I won't say I'm in love!”

Eddie lets himself get into singing along; well, half singing, half speaking along to the lyrics as he keeps going, especially with the next set of lyrics hitting a little too close to home.

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson, It feels so good when you start out…My head is screaming, ‘get a grip’, UGH!” he grabs hold of his hair at the root in half-mock frustration. “Unless I’m dying to cry my heart out!”

He bellows out lungfuls of frustration along with Meg’s longer notes as his friends poke holes in his already shaky denial of his feelings in time with the muses.

“You keep on denying who you are and how you're feeling, baby, we're not buying. Hon, we saw ya hit the ceiling!”

Okay, singing long and loud aloud like this is starting to help, actually.

“Face it like a grown-up, when ya gonna own up that ya got, got, got it bad?!” He almost loses it when the four of them do exaggerated jazz hands at him.

“No chance, no way, I won't say it, no, no.” He shakes his head again and turns away from them towards the front window.

Of course, because the universe hates him, Steve arrives just then with Max in the passenger seat, in time for the song and his friends to tease him with the perfectly timed line: “..check the grin, you’re in love!”

Damn, he was actually fucking grinning like an idiot just seeing Steve’s car pull into in the parking lot.

He scrubs the grin off his face with his hands, grabbing onto his hair like a crutch and turning his back to the window.

At this point, he’s fully into the performance. “This scene won't play, I won't say I'm in love!”

“You're doing flips, read our lips, you're in love!”

“You're way off base, I won't say it (“He won’t say it, no)!

“Get off my case, I won't say it!” he spins back around…and what a mistake that was.

His (horrible, traitorous) friends continue on as he watches the scene unfolding in front of him: Steve has carefully unfolded Max’s wheelchair, making sure each part is locked into place, before moving to help her stand and take the couple shaky steps to her seat with a kind, patient smile.

“...It's okay, you're in love…”

Oh.

He has to catch himself on the counter in front of him, knees suddenly weak.

Oh.

“At least out loud, I won't say I'm in love…”

–

“Hey guys, what were you singing? It looked like fun!” Steve asks as soon as Max is inside and over the lip of the doorway.

“Uh, nothing, c’mon Gareth, we’ve got that…thing.” Eddie does a vague grabby motion towards Gareth, who’s coming around the front of the counter. “Cool t’see ya, Stevie, catch you later!”

Eddie basically books it out the door, still held open by the handicap button, with Gareth trailing behind at a normal speed.

“Hey Steve, bye Steve.” he says as he strolls past.

Steve watches them go with gooey affection clear on his face, much to the delight of the gathered peanut gallery.

“You’re so mean to him” Max chides, “That shit was playing so loud even you could hear it from the parking lot.”

“You could!? Oh man, poor Eddie.” Dustin says with a gummy smile.

“Why poor Eddie?” he asks, keeping a straight face.

Dustin’s face falls and he and Will blurt “NOTHING.” and “NO REASON.” at the same time.

He lets them sweat for a bit, but Robin’s not-so-subtly-hidden laughter gets the best of him.

“Why are you laughing? Steve do you…do you already know?” Dustin asks, worried.

Steve shrugs, “I've had my suspicions, but I want him to get there himself first before I fully put the moves on him.”

“Put—put the moves?? You like Eddie??”

“No.”

“Steve what the hell, that’s super shit—”

“I've basically been in love with him since my scoops era.”

The silence is somewhat expected, only Robin knows he’s bi officially, but there had to have been some hints or signs that they’ve picked up on right? Steve really hopes this doesn’t turn into losing any of them.

“…In love?” Will’s voice is quiet.

“Scoops era?” Max and Robin ask in unison.

Steve silently breathes a sigh of relief. “Yeah, back before the fire? Dusty, you were there, remember?”

It takes him a second, but sure enough: “Oh shit!!”

Part 2 here!

okay confession, this is fully self-indulgent. all the way down to the fake st gang twitter feed because they always make me die laughin

also, yes, the title is a spoiler for where the other two chapters will be set

hope you enjoyed this brainrot!

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isnt-it-pretty · 1 year

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AU where Alhaitham is taken in by the Akademiya instead of his grandmother.

He's not the only child there. The other is a few years older- smaller, though-- with white hair and red eyes. Cyno is broken more than any child should be, but he refuses to let the researchers hurt Alhaitham the way they hurt him. He diverts their attention as much as he can, and Alhaitham hides behind him, afraid and cursing himself for not protecting Cyno. Instead, he does what he can to make it better after. He sits next to Cyno when the pain is too much. He reads books the Akademiya gives him to keep him quiet-- Cyno can't read, but Alhaitham can--, and he curls against Cyno's side as they both sleep through restless nights.

When the experiments finally end (in no small part due to Cyrus' actions), Cyrus holds out his hand to them both and offers them a home together. Neither of them trusts him at first. They're so used to being afraid and having only each other, but it's a home. It's safety and warmth with all the books either of them could dream of.

It isn't quite sweet and happy. Cyno struggles with the power of the spirit inside him and desperately wants to fit in with others, while Alhaitham finds it easier to disregard emotion. They argue, spats that end with harsh words and hurt feelings. But at night, when the nightmares come, they still find solace cuddled against each other.

Cyno goes to school first. He's older, and Alhaitham has no interest in it yet. The other students don't like him much-- he's too quiet, too different. But he has Lisa, one of his seniors who thinks her professor's sons are adorable, and a Kshahrewar boy named Kaveh.

It's Cyno who introduces Kaveh to Alhaitham, although it wasn't his intent. His life at school and home are kept carefully separate-- few people even know he's Professor Cyrus' son (Kaveh is one of them, and he knows of Alhaitham, but he's never met him.) One day Cyno is exhausted and in pain. Hermanubis pushes against his control, fraying his edges. Kaveh takes him home, and it's Alhaitham who answers the door, eyes wide with worry. He drops the book he was holding to help Cyno inside. It quickly morphs into scolding because why can't Cyno just take care of himself? He knows stress makes it worse-

Kaveh is smitten with his best friend's brother before the interaction is even finished.

It's a bit of a mess when Alhaitham eventually joins the Akademiya. Nobody is surprised when he decides on Haravatat, but it takes him out of Cyrus' reach. It's hard to protect him that way. It was more important with Cyno, who still bears the weight of Hermanubis and who the Akademiya still watches closely because of it (they're like vultures circling a corpse), but Alhaitham was a test subject too. At least Cyno has graduated and joined the matra, and Kaveh still has a year or two left in his own degree. They can all watch out for Alhaitham.

Then Alhaitham and Kaveh get into their argument, and Kaveh pulls away from Cyno just as much as Alhaitham. It hurts-- Kaveh is one of the few friends Cyno has, and Lisa is gone too. It puts pressure on Alhaitham and Cyno's relationship, because can't Alhaitham at least try to be kind? Alhaitham, just as hurt, although better at hiding it, argues back. Neither of them will ever be wanted; neither of them will ever belong. It's time they both give up trying to be something they're not. (It's the worst fight they've ever had and the longest they ever go without speaking.)

It's in the ensuing years that Cyno meets Tighnari. They become friends first, and then something more. He doesn't introduce Tighnari to his family for a long time, and-- similar to Kaveh-- when he does, it's because of an injury.

Cyno is the General Mahamatra. It's a dangerous position, and everybody in his life knows it. So, when he's severely injured on a mission, it isn't a surprise. Alhaitham and Cyrus wait in anxious silence when Tighnari hears the news and rushes over. Cyno is fine (relatively), but those few tense hours cement one thing: Alhaitham and Tighnari loathe each other.

Alhaitham thinks that Cyno can-- and should-- do better than some amurta botany student. Tighnari thinks Alhaitham is stuck up and intolerable. Cyrus and Cyno think they're both idiots. Eventually, they find some common ground. They both care about Cyno and would both cut somebody down for hurting him. That's good enough. Besides, it means Cyno will stop coming to Alhaitham's door in the middle of the night, bloodied from a mission but refusing to see a doctor. He can go bother Tighnari instead, who has actual medical training.

When Kaveh builds The Palace of Alcazarzaray and finds nothing left afterwards, Alhaitham offers him a place to stay. Kaveh agrees under one condition-- don't tell Cyno what happened. It's a little complicated, considering Cyno tends to show up unannounced. Sometimes he's hurt, other times he's bored, or just wants to see Alhaitham. He walks in as Kaveh and Alhaitham eat breakfast one morning, visibly shocked to see Kaveh for the first time in years. Alhaitham meets his eyes and tells him, "Don't ask." So Cyno doesn't. He knows Alhaitham well enough that don't ask means don't ask.

The Archon Quest is hell. Cyno disappears without saying goodbye-- he can't risk endangering his family, so only Tighnari knows what's happening. Alhaitham promises Cyrus that he'll find Cyno, and follows the trail of the Divine Knowledge Capsule because he hopes it will lead him to his brother. (He'll never admit to being afraid. He's supposed to be beyond that now-- an adult, not the small child hiding behind Cyno-- but what if the Akademiya was involved? What if Cyno is hurt or dead?)

There's no fight outside Aaru Village, just exasperation and some cutting words that neither of them takes seriously. They're long used to each other's bite, and it involves more eye rolling than not, but everybody else decides they must hate each other.

Alhaitham doesn't know that the Akademiya compiled information on Cyno, but he can still make an educated guess. Cyno is hurt in a way few others can notice (only Cyrus, Tighnari, and Kaveh, but none of them are there), but Alhaitham does, and it makes him furious at the Akademiya. Cyno hates Alhaitham's plan to rescue Nahida because it's dangerous. If it goes wrong, Alhaitham will be on the front line, but they both know the role they have to play. (Alhaitham refuses to hide behind Cyno again. Let him protect his brother for once.)

It's only after all is said and done, as they sit among their friends at Nilou's party, that everybody figures out that they're brothers. Nahida drops the information casually, mentioning, "you and your brother," to Cyno. The general consensus is, "You're WHAT?!"

Alhaitham and Cyno, unconcerned and speaking in exasperated unison, "We're adopted."

#genshin #cyno #alhaitham #kaveh #tighnari #professor cyrus #cynonari #haikaveh #kavetham #cyno & alhaitham #alhaitham & cyno #cyno & cyrus #my writing #sometimes i'm creative #genshin brothers au #sibling au #hurting cyno like it's my god given right

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weaselbeaselpants · 10 months

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How and why Lily is a bad fan and an even worse critic

I want to get this rant thing over and done with as it's not about Lily Orchard being an actual depolorable person, just more rants about her bad takes and bad criticisms;

In case you didn't know, Poppy and Zena of TransGirlTherapy have interviewed Lily's sibling Courtney and a few other victims; I saw someone in their chat for the stream of it try and post about Lily's infamous writing tips and I just really REALLY want to put a big divider up right now between mine and other people's comparatively lowstakes beef w her and these very serious allegations. I'd be horrified by them even if they were of a creator I loved; these are not funny and ranting ontop of Lily's rants should be a few steps down from the really important stuff that needs to be addressed w her. So with all that being said:

I think her outdated "SU is Garbage and here’s Why" video is a great encapsulation of everything wrong with Lily Orchard’s critical theory, attitude, and brand.

The whole video lacks a real thesis statement for an essaybreakdown. It feels really just like a woman having a giant fan rant at a show she used to like but now doesn’t-- because, that is what it is. BUT, that isn’t easy to listen to. Lefttuber or not, other essayist/watchalongs/media analysis-channels who talk about a thing for five hours will at least try and make their feelings actually collected. Hbomberguy’s Sherlock vid, YMS’s Kimbaspiracy debacle, Lindsay Ellis’ Hobbit three parter; all these vids are glorified fan rants extended to hours long and flowered with essay reasoning and research. They work because they're self-aware that they're taking the thing they are looking at too seriously but are committing anyway and preferably having some kind of fun or skill doing so, which is why I love to watch these kinds of videos. Lily Orchard’s thoughts all feel way too sporadic and focused on being spicy rather than coming together, and that hurts her point because it makes even her most serious call out against SU feel petty.

She gets stuff wrong. Concrete was designed by black artist Lamar Abrams, not Rebecca Sugar who is white. Ftr I’m not pointing that out as some kind of “got you/can’t complain/Sugar never did anything wrong”-clap back; It’s just a fact. AND a missed oppertunity on Lily's part bcuz she could have pointed out how, even if Concrete wasn’t designed by Sugar, it was her in control of the artbook+ Rebecca’s drawn questionable depictions of black people before w she herself is not black and doesn’t get a ‘my friend is-’ clearance just because, and finally just the fact that +the white SU fandom dismissing this problem because they don’t want to be critical about their show.

That Lily doesn’t go into this counter-counter argument whatsoever tells me Lily’s true intentions: and that’s not to point out potential racism in the show, but to dunk on Sugar even more. Lily’s entire point about Concrete, as well as her handling of the poorly handled subjects in the show like the Human Zoo, which other critics, fans and critical fans have done a much better job at breaking down, all of it feels less like a beatdown of how problematic something is but her trying to spin Sugar into the worst fucking person because she wants to hate her. Nowhere is that more clear than in her now infamous ending shade abt Sugar being a fascist.

No, Lily did not literally call Sugar an actual Nazi. Her exact words on screen were a joking “do I think she is one, nah; would I think she is one w/o context? Yeah”.

In an alt timeline I wouldn’t think anything of this take. I get that Lily was trying to hyperbolic and relishing in her self aware pettiness -kinda like how Hbomber is with his over-the-top hatred of Steven Moffat- The issue is we don’t live in an alt timeline. Lily didn’t see how people were taking her too seriously and/or acting like Sugar was a nezi on her behalf +care that her edgy joke at the end of her rant could do some real damage, or even care that it just didn’t look good on her. She didn’t reupload the vid with a disclaimer tacked on, she didn’t tack on a pinned comment; she didn't write down a longer video disc to explain herself.

Instead she threw everyone who might have gotten perturbed by this comment under the bus, said it was all our own faults, and made it very clear she was not going to apologize for it.

Do u dislike ppl treating Sugar like she’s a Nazi and want to discourage that behavior, even in small ways? Fuck you. You’re a stan cuz Lily said so.

Are you Jewish and maybe think implying those exact words are uncalled for? Eat shit! Lily knows better than you and can talk about your life and issues better than you can because other gentiles who aren’t her have failed to do so….which means she’s actually speaking truth????

Lily Orchard could never eat a slice of humble pie and admit that she made a mistake because the only people who’ve ever criticized her and gotten real attention for it are part of the problem (i.e. 4chan, ED). Vaush type commentary bros who keep fucking misgendering her and taking more issue w her leftism that her authoritarianism.

'If obviously she has nothing to apologize for and she is totally over the accusations or her making accusations…which is why she keeps alluding to SU being fascist as a “joke”. The 'joke is on Sugar and all the people who could possibly be offended by Lily’s coining of what’s fascist so…it’s not really a self aware joke at all. She’s still going “harr harr, it’s YOUR fault that you read my comment that way and also who cares it’s not serious. RSugar is tumblr famous which means she’s a millionaire and can’t face harassment.” Tl;dr : Lily got flaq for going too far with a point and rather than just apologizing like a grown up, doubled down.

The reason Natalie (who doesn’t even cover media why is Lily so invested in Contrapoints???wv) and Lindsay will always be better yts than Lily is because they at least try to take some ownership of what they say. Does that always excuse them? No. Are they maybe still a little too apologetic of those on their side? Maybe. But all that is leagues above what Lily doesn't even attempt to do.

Fandoms, people, creators, ships and characters are punching bags to Lily Orchard. She can’t just dislike Rebecca Sugar because for the valid reasons ppl have w Sugar, which there are a LOT of- Lily has to make Sugar, and anyone who doesn’t find her joke at Sugar’s expense, into the worst possible thing.

Lily can not make a joke or a real criticism to save her life. She is only venom and she has to double down on her points until they have no meaning. Lily Orchard’s activism and analysis aren’t about the things she says she’s fighting against; they’re about her and how everyone who dislikes her is the same kind of awful person and deserving of scorn for disagreeing with her. Lily’s the kind of person who abuses selfcare that good people get from watching Monica Lewinski’s Tedtalk, and basically came out the other end with an “I’m right and shouldn’t apologize for anything EVER”.

#lily orchard #discourse #cartoon fandom #cartoon fandoms

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kali-tmblr · 1 year

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Love Stories vs. the Romance Genre in America and Asia

I was brought up by women who went through romance novels like candy, and I read several people's share of them growing up. I love a good love story, but I find most romance stories not merely bad but downright disturbing. Let me explain by telling you my favorite love story:

"Once upon a time there was a very smart young man with good prospects. Everywhere he went, people said, "That is a young man with a future!" There were many neat, graceful, lovely girls at his college who wanted to be part of that future. They would come up to him and promise to be his ideal helpmate, allowing him to make all the decisions in their lives and do whatever he wanted without ever thinking about talking back to him.

"He couldn't run away fast enough. The idea of spending his entire life with someone who would never talk back to him was terrifying!

"On the edge of the campus social set was a smart, messy, cranky girl. She didn't always talk, but when she did she would either toss off something disturbingly insightful about the most uncomfortable subjects, or on rare occasions talk for hours on end about some obscure and not widely accepted topic. She was frank about her personal problems in the hope that this would drive people away, for she was deeply troubled by things that she did not know how to speak of and the culture she was a part of did not want to hear about.

"He found her fascinating.

"She was very resistant to the idea of being courted and put up all kinds of barriers, but he was patient. She had every reason to fear people, especially men; but she was also desperately lonely, especially for someone who could hold up their end of a conversation.

"They would talk all night.

"People became alarmed when they realized the pair were getting serious. Such a damaged young woman was the worst possible choice for such a promising young man! All sorts of people put up all sorts of arguments to dissuade him, to no avail. Finally they threw their hands up in the air, convinced the marriage wouldn't last six months.

"That young man and young woman were my husband and I, and we have been married for 35 years."

Now I'm prejudiced, but that's still a pretty good love story. But it would never fly in the romance genre. Far too many of those stories are written for, and ostensibly about, the neat, graceful young ladies in the first paragraph. They sincerely believed they could get through a marriage by not thinking and by being like their favorite stereotypical romance heroines, passive and conventional.

But real life isn't like a romance novel. It doesn't stop throwing problems at you once the wedding bells ring. I saw every one of those girls marry out of college, and every one of them divorced within five years. Once they hit the first problem that couldn't be solved by being passive, unthinking, and conventional, that was it.

A sobering number of them went through three or four marriages without questioning their basic life choices.

Consequently I find stereotypical genre romances alarming on many levels. They're not just boring. They encourage impressionable young people to BE boring, to hide all their interesting quirks, under the impression that being boring will get them married. Even worse, given the associations I've seen, I can't help but wonder if they promote an unrealistic view of married life that contributes to divorce.

So while I love in good love story, I want it to be about non-stereotypical people actively figuring out how to deal with the problems they've been handed together instead of trying to stuff themselves and their problems into some conventional formula. This combination isn't always easy to find in American fiction, especially in romance stories. But one unexpected place turned out to be a treasure trove of such stories, and that was gay romance, especially slash fiction. Not all, but the very best of those stories ask, "Since we're not heteronormal, why should our romance be heteronormative?"

(Also being full of amorous hot guys is a bonus.)

Then I got into Japanese pop fiction. While they can tell many wonderful stories, unfortunately unconventional love stories isn't something they're good at. All too often at the end of the day every effort is made to force the relationship into a conventional path. That's a turn off.

But if I was turned off by what I found in Japanese straight romance stories, I was repulsed by what I found in Japanese gay romance stories. When I first encountered those stories in the late 90s and early 00s, they seemed to exert an enormous amount of pressure to violently force the characters into a grotesque parody of heterosexual relationships. Why does everyone have to be "seme" or "uke"? Why can't they just be people?

Cut to the present day. I'm the Villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss showed that there have been small but significant changes in the Japanese pop culture romance area. These changes are coming out of the web novel/light novel corner, where more women writers work under less supervision than previously. This less restrictive medium has also had an effect stories from other Asian cultures, and on gay romance stories.

I took a dive into romantic web/light novels recently, and I'll be posting about some especially interesting ones shortly.

#i'm the villainess so i'm taming the final boss #akuyaku reijou nanode last boss wo kattemimashita #love stories #romance genre #villainess isekai #web novel #light novel #anime #manga #shoujo #romance novels #shounen ai #yaoi #gay romance #slash fic

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

"Victory" (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Requested: Yes

Summary: Spencer's daughter hates her father's girlfriend. But when he is in prison, life pushes them to finally get along.

Warning: Cursing, a little angst, a mean teenager, and fluff.

Word count: 5,4K

A/N: Hello, pretty people! How are you? I've missed you! Life has been a little messy and filled with angst, so writing hasn't come easy in the lastest weeks. Hope you like this story, and I hope I can bring you a new one soon 😉

Masterlist

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Spencer's daughter hated her dad's new girlfriend. And she wasn't subtle about it. She hated that her father was now dating, 'cos she didn't want to share his love. So now she didn't even want to be around him anymore 'cos he was so happy, it was annoying.

It wasn't that she hated her father, 'cos she loved him. But she was never going to face the fact she was jealous. She didn't want to share Spencer with anyone because he was all the family she knew, and they were a team.

Victoria Reid was twelve years old. She had grown up alone with her dad 'cos her mother had ditched the two of them soon after she was born. Spencer had tried to explain to his daughter her mom had left 'cos she wasn't ready to deal with the responsibility of being a mother, which was true. He, on the other hand, was happy to know he was going to be a father, and he repeated over and over again she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

That was true.

When Spencer and his ex found out they were going to be parents, he was ecstatic. He couldn't wait to hold his baby in his arms and watch them grow. He didn't know his girlfriend had other plans, though, and soon after Victoria was born, she had left the two of them and never looked back.

Spencer wasn't going to lose the chance of being a dad. Even when he knew he was too young, Reid was ready to raise that baby on his own and give her all the love he had.

That's why he and Victoria were so close. Spencer was the only parent she had ever had. He was her world. And though Spencer was only 24 when Tori was born, he had given her his best.

Tori was the BAU's baby girl. Everybody in the team was a part of her life because she had grown up with them. Penelope was her best friend and godmother. Victoria would spend a lot of time with her while her dad was away on a case. Derek was her cool uncle. He helped her train to get into the basketball team and taught her how to dance. JJ was the closest to a mother figure in her life. Tori would spend time with her after school, playing with Henry. Spencer always said JJ was like a sister for him, and that's why they were all like family. Tori actually called Henry and Michel her cousins.

Emily was like her best friend. They could talk about anything, and at least twice a month, they would go out together shopping, just the two of them. Spencer always respected his daughter's relationship with his friend 'cos they were their little extended family. Tori called Rossi "Nono." He had taught her himself, and she loved going to his mansion, 'cos he always had new video games to play with her.

But then came (Y/N). She had joined the team when Victoria was only six years old, and for the first five years, they got along just fine. (Y/N) would come along shopping with her and Emily, sometimes she took Tori out for some pastries, and talked about bands, boys. Victoria loved her.

That until the incident.

She hated (Y/N) after the incident.

Victoria refused to talk to her after THE INCIDENT.

It was a warm spring afternoon, Spencer and (Y/N) had the afternoon off, and they were at his apartment... heavily making out on the couch. That's why they lost track of time.

(Y/N) and Spencer had started dating a few months before. They had been in love with each other for years. Still, neither of them had acted on it until Rossi's birthday party, when they had a little too many drinks and finally confessed their feelings. They wanted to take things slow, but when you make out in front of the whole team, it might be a little harder imagined.

But they had decided to wait for the right time to tell Victoria. But, unfortunately, the right time didn't come soon enough.

- "Dad!! I'm home!!"- Victoria opened the front door and froze in shock at the scene going on in front of her. The twelve-year-old had asked her best friend's mother to drop her home earlier when Penelope told her Spencer had already gone home. In Garcia's defense, she had no idea what was going on in Reid's residence, and if she had known, she would have never let Victoria know her dad was home.

(Y/N) widened her eyes and quickly grabbed a pillow to cover herself. She was shirtless, sitting on Spencer's lap. She still had her bra on (thank god), but anyone could tell that scene was leading to the bedroom in a few seconds.

- "Shit!"- Spencer whispered and closed his eyes as he realized what was going on. (Y/N) held her breath as she stared into the young teen's eyes. Victoria didn't know what to do or what to say, so she simply ran to her room and slammed the door.

- "Ok... so I think Tori knows about us"- (Y/N) tried to ease the mood and smiled at her boyfriend as she put on her shirt. But Spencer sighed and covered his face with both hands- "Oh, come on. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. Let me talk to her."

- "No, (Y/N), let me talk to her first."- Spencer stood up and kissed (Y/N) 's nose- "I know she is mad, and I should be the one dealing with her anger."

Reid knew his daughter well enough to anticipate her behavior. People had often told him he could be a little passive-aggressive when he was upset. And his daughter was just like him.

- "Victoria, open the door!"- he said and waited a few seconds after knocking.

- "Go away!"- the teenager yelled, laying on her bed. She felt betrayed and confused. But most of all, she felt angry that her father had decided to have a girlfriend. He had no right to do such a thing. He had to take care of her and her grandma. No one else.

- "Victoria, we need to talk about this!"

- "You seemed too busy with your girlfriend to talk to me, dad. So go away!"

- "Victoria Marie!"- Spencer knocked on the door but got no answer from his daughter. (Y/N) heard it all from the couch and tried to think of a way to fix things with the young girl.

Sadly, it wasn't going to be easy, and in the months that followed, everything was far from being normal again.

- "I hate her!"- Victoria huffed and left her book aside. Spencer was trying to explain to her why (Y/N) would stay with her and Diana while he took a short work trip for the weekend. But the girl didn't want to hear a word about it.

- "You used to get along with her just fine until we started dating."- Spencer tried to dialogue with his daughter. Still, it was honestly getting harder and harder each time they touched the subject.

- "Used to. You just said it. I have the right to change my mind about people. Why can't I stay with auntie Penelope for the weekend?"

- "Because I want you to make an effort and try to get along with (Y/N) again. Victoria, we've been through this before. I love you, and that's not going to change just because I am dating (Y/N)."

- "This is so unfair! I hate you!!"

Spence tried to stay calm, but after over four-month having the same argument almost every day, he was losing it. Victoria stormed out and slammed her bedroom door behind her back. Maybe it was better not to push it, Spencer thought, defeated, and called Penelope to ask her if his daughter could spend the weekend with her, 'cos he had to travel. Maybe Victoria and (Y/N) weren't going to get along if he forced them to spend time together.

Everyone had already tried to talk to her about what was going on: JJ, Emily, Penelope. But Victoria wasn't ready to give in. She wanted to hate (Y/N), and nothing was going to change that. Or so she thought.

The day Penelope showed up in Victoria's school and announced her something had happened to her dad was engraved in the girl's memory forever as the worst day of her life. Her father had been arrested in Mexico, but Garcia had assured her, the whole team was working to bring him home safe. Meanwhile, she would stay with her in her apartment (she was already there anyway), and Diana would stay home with her nurse.

Victoria's heart was broken. She was basically alone in the whole world. Her father was her anchor. Her protector. Her superhero. Her best friend. And now, all of a sudden, he was gone, and though everybody told her it was going to be ok, she knew it wasn't.

- "Hey,"- (Y/N) walked into Penelope's office and found Victoria doing her homework- "Pen told me you were here, and I thought maybe you'd like one of these."

The young SSA said and handed the girl a box of fresh chocolate frosted with sprinkled donuts and a strawberry milkshake. Her favorites.

But Victoria didn't reply. Instead, she looked at (Y/N) right in the eyes, not moving a muscle, and then returned to her homework.

It had been two weeks since Spencer had been accused of murder, and he had been transferred to Virginia. But the team was far from solving the case.

- "Ok, Tori, please stop this. I know you don't like me dating your dad, but this is not the right time to fight. I know..."- (Y/N) made a short pause and took a deep breath before resuming her idea- "I know how you feel."

- "No. You don't."- Victoria Reid's voice was loud and clear, like thunder, hitting earth with anger. So clear, in fact, (Y/N) widened her eyes when she heard her.

- "You have no idea how I feel. Your dad ain't in jail accused of killing some woman in Mexico. You have no right to tell me that!"

- "My boyfriend and best friend in the whole world is in jail right now, and it doesn't matter if I work myself to death 18 hours every single fucking day; I still can't find the way to help him. I feel lost and alone, and most of all, scared, 'cos I've come to realize I have no idea how to live without him anymore. I'm guessing that's very close to what you feel."

(Y/N) poured her heart with complete honesty to her boyfriend's daughter, fighting the tears back, though you could feel the desperation in her voice. She didn't know if it would be of any use, but she had to take that from her chest. She missed Spencer so much she felt she was going insane. She had no idea what to do.

Victoria stared at her, furrowing her eyes and pouting. She didn't want to cry in front of (Y/N) 'cos she didn't want her trying to console her.

- "Just because you are dating him doesn't mean you have to take care of me. I can take care of myself."- Tori said and looked at the donut. She was hungry, they looked delicious, but the teenager didn't want to accept any gift coming from (Y/N).

- "I am not here because you are my boyfriend's daughter. I thought you were a cool kid way before I fell in love with him."- (Y/N) tried to calm herself down and sat across the table from Victoria- "And I am not trying to steal him from you. I just wanna... make him happy."

- "We were happy,"- the teenager's comeback was like a slap on (Y/N) 's face, but she did her best not to take it personally. She knew it was useless fighting with a teenager.

- "I have a visit scheduled for tomorrow. If you'd like, we could go together."

Tori held her breath. She hadn't seen her father since he left for Mexico. Of course, Victoria wanted to see him and hug him. It was all she wanted in the whole world. But... she didn't want to be friendly with (Y/N).

- "If I go... it doesn't mean I like you."- the young girl whispered.

- "I know"- (Y/N) nodded, feeling already triumphant.

- "And it doesn't mean I'm ok with you dating him."

- "I understand. I just know you miss him, Tori. I really know how you feel, and I'm gonna help you whenever I get a chance."- Victoria didn't answer; she just sighed and grabbed a donut. (Y/N) tried not to smile, feeling she had a small victory.

Spencer couldn't believe it when he saw his little girl waiting for him sitting next to (Y/N) instead of his lawyer in the small grey room. Victoria stood up and ran to him the second the door opened and wrapped her arms around her father as tight as possible.

(Y/N) looked at the guards, thankful neither of them had tried to stop the teenager.

Spencer kissed his daughter's cheek a few times and whispered how sorry he was to put her under those circumstances. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He was speechless. A part of him hated the idea of his daughter visiting him in jail, but he also missed her too much to argue with (Y/N) for bringing her over.

- "I'll go fill a few forms. Be right back"- (Y/N) whispered and saw Spencer's warm smile as he mouthed "Thank you," still hugging his daughter. She whispered, "I love you," and walked outside the room. She knew Victoria would appreciate a few minutes alone with her father, and she didn't want to take that away from them. She really wanted to make Spencer and Tori happy, and spending time together was what they needed.

- "I know this is hard, peanut, but we'll get through it. I'll be out in a few weeks. I promise"- Spencer held his daughter's hands as they sat across the table.

- "I miss you"- her voice was a soft whisper, as she kept trying not to cry anymore. She didn't want to make him feel guilty, sad, or anxious.

- "Me too. How are you? How is living with aunt Penelope going?"

- "Ok... we watch a lot of movies."

- "And school?"- Tori shrugged.

- "Ok, I guess."

- "Victoria..."

- "I got a C on my history paper."

- "Baby..."

- "I know, I know, I should have tried harder, but I really didn't want to do it."

Spencer was torn between lecturing his daughter for getting a bad grade and actually telling her it was ok, 'cos they were going through a rough patch. It was obvious she might get bad grades, all things considered.

- "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you"- it was all Spencer managed to whisper.

- "Don't say that, dad. I'm sorry I slacked off."

- "You know, you could ask (Y/N) for help,"- Spencer suggested, but Tori just rolled her eyes, annoyed- "She has a master in the subject..."

- "Dad, please don't force me to talk to her."

- "I'm just saying... you don't have to be her best friend, just ask for help when needed, especially when it comes to school. Besides, it's clear she isn't a bad person if she brought you here today."

- "She just wants to win me over."- Tori mumbled and crossed her arms on her chest. But she knew her dad was right in one thing: (Y/N) had done a pretty good thing taking her to see her dad and letting them spend time together on their own.

Victoria thought she was losing her mind after three months had passed and her father was still in jail. It didn't matter that (Y/N) took her every Saturday morning to visit, played her favorite music, and bought her all the pastries she loved. She needed to live with her father again and do all the small things they loved: making breakfast together, playing scrabble, taking long walks in the park, eating ice cream. Tori even missed her father's annoying habits. She missed his rambling and how he always had an answer for everything, even for the things she didn't want to talk about with him.

Spencer was an amazing father, no questions asked, and Victoria Reid knew she couldn't ask for a better dad than him. She just wanted him back.

But things weren't going to improve soon.

When the team found out Diana Reid had been kidnapped, (Y/N) had to take a minute and lock herself in the bathroom to cry her heart out. She felt bad things were never going to cease, and she didn't want to tell Victoria. The girl had already been through so much, adding the abduction of her grandmother wasn't fair. Tori was just twelve. She shouldn't be going through all that.

- "Victoria?"

Prentiss decided she was going to be the one to tell the girl what was going on, and (Y/N) offered herself to look for her. She was in Rossi's office, reading a book curled on his comfy couch. That poor kid almost lived at the BAU by then.

- "My homework is done."- she replied, not taking her eyes from the page she was reading.

- "That's good. And what are you reading?"- Tori sighed and showed her the cover- "Something Wicked this way comes," I love that book"- (Y/N) smiled and took a look around.

- "Figured my father forced you to read it."

- "Actually, I read it when I was ten, and it's one of my favorite books."- (Y/N) looked at Victoria, but the teenager kept pretending to read, ignoring her- "Emily needs to talk to you."

- "And why are you here? Why didn't aunt Emily come? Are you her secretary?"- there was something about Victoria's attitude that reminded (Y/N) of Reid.

- "I wanted to see you, see how you were doing, and take you to the conference room"- Tori sighed and stood up. She hoped Emily had good news about her father, 'cos she was honestly going insane.

But of course, Prentiss didn't have any good news.

- "I'm sorry, Tori, but... you are going to have to stay here tonight"- the girl frowned, confused, and looked at the whole team around her. Everybody looked like they hadn't slept in days. Which, by the way, was very accurate.

- "Why?"

- "'Cos we are going to have to..."- Emily paused and held her breath, staring at her niece's eyes.- "I'm sorry, Tori, but this is the truth: the woman who framed your father has kidnapped Diana, and I'm scared she might try to get you too. So until we catch her, the safest place to be is here, at the BAU. With us."

Tori gasped and covered her mouth with both hands as tears filled her eyes in a second.

- "Nana? Is she ok?"

- "We don't know yet, but we are working to bring her home safe as soon as possible"- JJ caressed Tori's arm and tried to hold her, but she pushed her away mad frowned.

- "You keep saying that, you keep telling me you are working to bring my family home safe, but so far, you haven't done anything!! I am still alone! Dad is in jail, and everybody knows he is innocent! And now nana is gone too!!"

- "Baby, we know it is hard, but..."- Emily wanted to explain to Victoria everything was more complex than they had expected, but the girl covered her ears and shook her head, yelling as she stormed out of the room

- "I don't wanna hear you!! I want my dad!!"

It was painful to hear those things, 'cos the team was doing the best they could for Reid and his family, but they could understand the frustration and, most of all, the fear that little girl felt.

- "I'll talk to her,"- (Y/N) said and turned to Emily- "You guys continue what you were doing. I'll try to calm her down."

- "Are you sure you wanna go?"- Emily asked and cut (Y/N) a short smile.

- "Yeah, for once, she is mad at all of us, not just me."

The young SSA walked to Garcias's office, where Tori was hidden underneath a desk, crying.

- "Hey."

- "Leave me alone."

- "I know I'm the last person you wanna be with right now, and I am sorry I can't do anything to make you feel better. I can only promise you this: we are doing all we can to bring your dad and your grandmother back home safe." - (Y/N) whispered as she walked slowly towards the girl, who sobbed, whipping off the tears from her eyes.

- "Just leave me alone. I want to be alone,"- Tori mumbled and wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing.

- "I'm not gonna leave you alone, Tori. You are not alone here with us."

- "I am alone!! I want my daddy!! I need my daddy!!"- the girl continued crying her eyes out, hidden underneath the desk. (Y/N) kneeled next to her and sat on the floor.

- "Come here"- it was a bold move, 'cos (Y/N) knew the girl was going to reject her, but she didn't care. She couldn't deal with her sadness, and it scared her to think how bad the child was feeling. So, (Y/N) opened her arms and moved the teen closer to her.

Surprisingly, the girl didn't reject her. Instead, she cried against the fabric of (Y/N) 's sweater and sobbed, shaking, as (Y/N) caressed her hair carefully.

- "I swear, we are not gonna rest until he is free and until Diana is home."

- "I want my family back,"- Victoria mumbled and sighed.

- "You'll get it. I swear, I'll do everything I can to bring them back to you."

That was the first time since (Y/N) started dating Spencer that Victoria let her close. In the middle of the mess they were all lost into, it felt like a little break of peace. Another small victory for the young woman.

(Y/N) didn't mind spending the whole night awake going through an endless pile of files if it meant there was a chance to bring Spencer back home. Tori stayed in Rossi's office, where she made something that looked pretty much like a fort on the couch, with blankets and pillows, to hide from the rest of the world.

It was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time, looking at the girl hidden there, trying to read, trying to draw, trying to do anything to take her mind from reality. Penelope brought her something to eat, but she rejected it, saying she wasn't hungry. Emily and JJ had tried to talk to her, but Tori kindly said she wanted to be alone. Even Morgan had called her and announced to her he was taking a plane from Chicago to help the team looking for Diana.

None of that cheered Victoria up.

- "I bought you this,"

Around ten, (Y/N) opened Rossi's door and walked in, holding a box of frosted chocolate donuts with sprinkles.

- "They always cheer your dad up, so I'm counting they will do the trick with you too"- the young woman tried to joke but found Victoria crying quietly insider her fort.

- "Please, just leave me alone,"- she whispered and hid her face with both her hands. (Y/N) didn't pay attention and sat with her inside the fort.

- "Not a chance."

- "I really don't wanna do this now, just leave me alone,"- the girl sighed, defeated, and continued crying.

- "Come here, I told you, you are not alone."

- "I am alone, (Y/N)! My dad is in jail, my grandma is kidnapped, and my mother left me 'cos she didn't love me!"

- "No, baby, don't say that"- (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Tori and kissed the top of her head.

- "I know my mom didn't want to have me, and maybe she was right... maybe I am cursed, and all this is my fault."

- "Victoria Marie Reid, you are talking senseless" (Y/N) held the girl's shoulder and looked into her eyes.

- "You are an adorable young girl who deserves the best in the world. Why did this happen? I don't know, bad shit happens in life, and we must try to learn something from it. That's it. There's no reason or cause. Shit happens, baby, but we must raise stronger than before. You are an incredible young girl, and I know your dad is proud of you. I am proud of you, 'cos you've been so courageous and brave."

- "You are just saying that 'cos you are with my dad."

- "No. I would say that even if I hated your dad. You know why? 'Cos I am not lying, you are awesome, and I love you, get that into your head. And you are not alone, 'cos I am here, see?"- (Y/N) ran her thumb on Tori's cheek, whipping off a few of her tears- "I'm here even when you don't want me to be, so I don't know if you can tell, but you are doomed, you can't get rid of me now. I'm like a disease, but a good one... I don' know if there's a good disease. I'm sure your dad would have the answer for my random comment right now."

Both Victoria and (Y/N) chuckled at the same time, and the girl nodded.

- "He definitely would..."

- "He would also lecture me why I shouldn't give you sugar after dinner, but he is not here, and I am not telling him, so please don't tell him 'cos he is going to be mad at me... and at you."- (Y/N) handed Tori the box of donuts, and the girl smiled.

- "I won't tell him."

- "Great, we have our own little sugary secret. Eat all the donuts you want; I'm going to be with the team in the conference room. Emily has a meeting early morning with the judge."- (Y/N) kissed the top of Vitoria's head and stood up.

- "If you need anything, I'm across the hall."- the SSA said, and the girl nodded, chewing a donut.

- "Thank you, (Y/N)"

By the next day, the miracle had happened. Victoria couldn't stop crying when (Y/N) announced she was taking Spencer back home. Tori stood in front of his father's girlfriend and felt how the tears filled her eyes in less than a minute. Happy tears, for once.

(Y/N) smiled at her, glad to know the young girl was going to have her life back. It surprised her when Tori hugged her, wrapping her arms around her tight. (Y/N) stayed still for an instant, trying to understand what was happening. She hugged Victoria and kissed the top of her head. The child was crying, and suddenly, so was she. The nightmare was over. At least a part of it. They still needed to find Diana. But the fact they were going to have Reid back was already giving everybody the peace of mind they needed to finish the task.

(Y/N) held Spencer's hand tight all the way from the prison to the BAU. He kept his eyes locked on their hands, fingers tangled together. He couldn't believe it was actually happening. He couldn't believe he was a free man.

- "How's Tori?"- he whispered and turned to his girlfriend. Penelope and Luke were in the car with them, but somehow, Spencer could only register the presence of his girlfriend. Not because he didn't care about his friends, but because he could only take just a small amount of information at the time. It was all too much for him at that moment.

- "Good. She has been incredibly strong."

- "Did you tell her about mom?"- Spencer was afraid to ask but needed to know what was going on with his daughter. (Y/N) nodded and sighed.

- "We decided it was better if she knew what was happening, we had to keep her at the BAU, and she was going to get suspicious she couldn't go to Penelope's... sorry."

- "Don't be. You did what was best for her."- Spencer turned to his girlfriend and smiled at her for a second. It was a short, sweet smile. Almost shy. But it was enough to warm her heart and wake the butterflies in her stomach. She was so in love with Spencer Reid, everything he did fluster her.

Victoria thought her heart was about to burst as he waited for her father to arrive. Spencer looked at (Y/N) one last time, and she squeezed his hand kindly, smiling when the elevator door opened, and all he heard was:

- "Daddy!!"- Tori yelled and ran to hug Spencer as soon as she saw him. He couldn't even step out of the elevator when his daughter nearly tackled him, wrapping her arms around him tight.

- "My baby!"- he whispered and spun her in the air a few times- "Are you ok?"- he held her face with both hands and took a good look at her. She was crying but smiling as she nodded.

- "I'm so happy to see you, dad."

- "I missed you so, so much"- Spencer kissed the top of her head and sighed. (Y/N) smiled, and whipped off the tears from her eyes as she stared at the scene. Garcia and Luke stood next to her, enjoying a brief moment of happiness and peace.

- "Me more,"- Victoria whispered and hugged Spencer again- "I swear I'm never going to fight with you again."

- "I'm taking a mental note of that,"- he answered and felt her body shaking as she giggled. Spencer hadn't heard his daughter laugh, giggle, or even watched her smile in the three months he had spent away from her. And that sound was sweet and warm, like a balm to his soul.

- "I'm sorry, Spencer... but, we have to..."- Emily interrupted the moment and smiled at her friend. They all knew they still had to do one more thing before celebrating. They had to take Diana Reid back home safe and sound. Victoria let her father go and smiled at him.

- "I love you, dad."

- "I love you too, princess."

And as the team walked to the conference room to brief Spencer about the case and update him with the latest information, (Y/N) felt someone hold her hand.

- "Thank you,"- Victoria whispered and cut her a smile that warmed her heart.

- "Come here,"- she answered and turned around to wrap her arms around her for a second. Spencer looked at them, and for once, he didn't know what to say. Victoria and (Y/N) just stood in the middle of the hall, hugged for a few minutes, and Reid couldn't believe it. It was so heartwarming and emotional; he really didn't know how to react.

- "Come on, dad!! You are going to miss the movie!"- Victoria yelled and set the popcorn on the coffee table.

- "You can pause it!"- Spencer yelled from his desk, where he was finishing writing a letter for his mother.

- "Or you can hurry!"- Tori answered and sat on the couch.

- "Here's your tea, your highness"- (Y/N) walked to the girl holding a tray filled with cups and more snacks- "Come on, honey! We are not waiting for you!"

Three months after prison and life had never been so good for Spencer, Victoria, and (Y/N).

- "I had never seen you so eager to watch a Marvel movie, since when are you two fans of Thor?"- Spencer walked to the living room, hearing his girlfriend and daughter laugh.

- "Always, huge fan."- (Y/N) smiled and tapped on the couch. Reid sat between his two women and sighed.

- "I can smell the sarcasm in the air."

- "No, honey. We love Thor, right Tori?"

- "Yes! Big fans, huge, the biggest fans"- Spencer looked at his daughter and raised an eyebrow.

- "Ok, I'll buy it. Let's watch the movie."

(Y/N) and Tori giggled at the very same moments like they were sharing a secret joke Spencer couldn't understand, but he didn't really matter. He was happy, his heart was content, and there was nothing more perfect that minute, 'cos his family was all on the same couch, watching a movie, enjoying an afternoon together. Like he had always dreamt of.

----

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@all-tings-diego @spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Matthew gray Gubler #Spencer reid x reader #babymetaldoll writes #criminal minds rewrite #fluff #angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst

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gladerscake · 3 years

Text

Blind Spots

(Gally x Reader)

Another lengthy one, because self-restraint means nothing to me. Major fluff ahead. Hope you enjoy!

Gally was back, and it was nothing short of a miracle. All this time, for the last six months, your grieving heart had wept for him, quietly, while you did your best to put on a brave facade and seem alright on the outside. You always made sure that none of your friends could see exactly how much pain you were in. They didn’t need to know. They couldn’t have done anything to change it, and their looks of pity wouldn’t have helped in the slightest. So you kept it locked away, only letting it torment you at night, while everyone else were asleep and couldn’t hear you cry.

And now, seeing him again, alive and relatively unharmed… Truthfully, you were still processing it, but even through your heavy state of shock, every fiber of your being was reeling with joy and relief. You felt a little light-headed, but in the best possible way. Feeling his muscular arms around you again, his warm embrace, looking into his piercing bluish-green eyes that shined into yours with the same undiluted love they had back in the glade… It had almost made you dizzy, and you were surprised at yourself for not having passed out - for a moment there, it felt like you might have.

You never stopped loving Gally, not for one moment. Despite having been convinced you’d never see him again, there was no force in the world strong enough to make you forget him or even begin letting him go.

Having him back filled you with a happiness you had long given up on experiencing ever again. You hadn’t felt anything close to it since the day you thought you’d lost him. The worst day of your life, your most haunting memory… No. You refused to think about it again. It didn’t matter anymore, because Gally was alive, and that’s what you needed to focus on. The light inside you, the one you thought had died with him, was flickering back to life again. It was flourishing and spreading with each passing second, as you realized you were no longer bound to imagine a future that he wouldn’t be in. The bleak and cheerless future you had laid out for yourself was rapidly dispersing before your eyes, giving way to something brighter, something much more hopeful and promising.

However, as much as you wanted to let the euphoria of having Gally by your side again consume you entirely, you knew you couldn’t. Not completely. You still had a mission, a dangerous and inordinately challenging one - rescuing Minho. You could already feel what a “fun adventure” this was going to be…

You had just met Lawrence, and although he’d initially stated that only two people were allowed to be shown the way into the city, Gally managed to bargain for three. The third one being, unsurprisingly, you. He had just got you back, and he wasn’t ready to let you out of his sight, if he had anything to say about it. Not that you minded - you had no desire to be far away from him either. You’d had more than enough of that.

“So… That’s the dead boyfriend, huh?” Brenda asked with a cheeky smile as she walked beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Gally was walking ahead, leading you all somewhere only he knew, as you were making sure to keep up.

“Yeah… That’s him.” You responded, keeping your voice down, a slightly dazed grin pulling at the corner of your lips. ‘Not dead anymore’ your heart seemed to whisper in utter excitement.

“He’s different from what I’d imagined!” Your dark-haired friend mused out loud, causing your brow to quirk upwards as you shot her a confused glance.

“Different how?”

“Just different…” Brenda shrugged, her smile widening before she lightly punched you in the arm. “But I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really. Most people don’t get a second chance like this.”

Your grin grew brighter, eyes landing on Gally’s broad back as your abdomen swarmed with butterflies. You were well aware of how minuscule the odds were of a past love ‘coming back from the dead’. Yet, a part of you couldn’t help but feel like, maybe, after all you and Gally had endured, you deserved that second chance.

“I know…”

Soon enough, Gally led you all into a closed-off area of the base, a rather filthy room with a large covered pothole in the middle and a ladder propped up against one of the walls. You took a moment to examine your surroundings, while the rest did the same, all exchanging equally questioning looks.

Before you could ask what this place was, you suddenly felt a large and warm hand descend onto your shoulder. There was no way for you to not know, immediately, who it belonged to. Your question died in your throat as you turned around to face him.

Gally squeezed your shoulder with as much comfort as he could manage, his bright eyes staring, deeply, into yours, making your heart leap. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to tell you and talk to you about, but the number of people surrounding you was preventing him from doing so. He so badly wanted to be alone with you. Even if just for a few minutes… All he could do was hope that there will be time for that later. You two had plenty to catch up on, and he couldn’t wait for a chance at it.

“You alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” He whispered, hoarsely, scanning you for any sign of even minor injury.

You breathed a slightly quivering chuckle, shaking your head and covering Gally’s hand with your own, the mere contact reminding you of the closeness you and him once shared… and will share again, now that he was back.

“I’m okay, definitely. Much better now…” You whispered in response, your eyes gleaming up at him. A small but sincere smile formed on his lips as he looked at you. He knew what you meant by that - he felt the exact same way. He had been afraid that after everything that’s happened, your feelings for him may have dimmed, or even worse, trickled away altogether. But with the way you were looking at him now, with such warmth and sheer affection, Gally felt those heartbreaking thoughts melt away. You still loved him. Just as much as he loved you. Even if only one person was genuinely happy to see him again, he couldn’t be more thankful that it was you.

Ignoring the presence of your friends, Gally pressed a loving kiss to your forehead. You bit down on your bottom lip, the sweet gesture almost bringing fresh tears to your eyes. However, the next moment, he drew back, gazing down at you “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to grab a couple things before we can go.”

You nodded, understandingly, giving his hand a soft squeeze before letting go “Of course.. We’ll be right here.”

Gally delivered you one more subtle smile before leaving you and the others to look around a bit.

“By the looks of it, we’re going down the bloody sewer.” Newt assumed, eyeing the pothole with slight confusion and just a hint of disgust.

“Wouldn’t be the worst place you’ve been to so far, no?” Jorge scoffed, arms folded on his chest as he stayed close to Brenda.

Frypan chuckled, lowly, glancing at the ladder “True that…”

Although most of your friends had seemingly chosen to look away and act oblivious to your and Gally’s little exchange, one person had not.

Thomas’ dark eyes darted to you, uneasily, every muscle in his body strained and jaw clenched, tensely, as he nudged you in the side.

“Y/N… Can we talk for a second?” He all but grunted, clearing his throat.

“No.” The blatant response tumbled from your lips without hesitation, despite the calmness of your tone.

You already knew what was on his mind. You didn’t want to hear it. Thomas was a close friend and very dear to your heart, but this wasn’t something he had a say in. You knew how he felt about Gally, so naturally, the thought of you two together again did not particularly thrill him. Nonetheless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. If Thomas had a problem with it, then that’s just something he would have to learn to deal with.

“Y/N…” Thomas tried again, more insistently this time “Please…”

You felt him grip your forearm, not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough to let you know that he needed to speak with you, now, and he wouldn’t let go until you at least attempted to hear him out.

Drawing in a heavy sigh, you shot him a sharp pointed look.

“Fine.” You muttered, curtly. You decided you would give him a chance to just get it off his chest. Nothing he’d say could possibly change your mind, regardless.

With that, Thomas briskly slipped out of the room, as you reluctantly followed him. Once you two were a few feet away from the others, you halted to a stop, not wanting to go too far.

“Can’t imagine what’s so urgent.” You huffed, quietly, your arms crossing as you stared, expectantly, at your friend. “Well? Come on, let’s hear it.”

Thomas frowned, his features painted with exasperation “Y/N, before you go running back to him-“

“I already did.” You hastily cut him off, trying to keep your expression as placid as you could. “Thomas, there’s nothing you can do. You know how I feel.”

He grimaced, his mind refusing to wrap around it. What was it about Gally? How could you so easily forget what had happened and welcome him back with open arms?

“Seriously…? After what he did?” He stared at you in disbelief, dark brown eyes narrowing.

You gritted your teeth, staring right back at him, endeavouring to suppress your own bubbling comtempt for the subject “What happened to Chuck wasn’t Gally’s fault.”

“He shot him, Y/N!”

“It was an accident, Thomas!” Your voice had risen, finally, your hands clenching into fists. You had had this exact argument with him before and you couldn’t stand hearing it for one more second. “Whether you want to admit it or not! You were there - you know exactly what happened!”

Thomas, much to your surprise, fell silent. His mouth twitched as he looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense. Yet, deep down, even though he despised the idea of conceding, a small part of him knew you weren’t entirely wrong.

You took advantage of his silence and continued. You had every intention of standing your ground on this. “Gally never would’ve hurt Chuck! He wasn’t aiming for him! And what part of “he was stung” keeps getting lost on you? Have you forgotten what that does to a person? Because I haven’t!”

“Yeah, he was stung, but he could have-“

“No, he couldn’t have!” Your hands were practically shaking by now, a lump had formed in your throat “He wasn’t himself, he had no control over what he was doing! You just want to blame him, because it’s easy!”

Thomas glowered “I don’t get it… I really don’t, what is it about him?”

“What is it about Teresa?” You countered, not missing a beat.

At that, Thomas trailed off, the familiar pang of hurt shooting through his limbs. Something that occurred every time he thought about her, since the day of her disastrous betrayal.

You huffed, knowing you had struck a nerve, but also knowing that you were right “Come on, look at me and tell me that if she showed up right now, looked at you with those big blue eyes and told you how sorry she was, how much she regretted the whole thing, you wouldn’t immediately want her back.”

“I wouldn’t-“

“You would!” You noted the way Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, as well as the way his knuckles were already turning white. “You would, Thomas… You damn well know it.”

He shook his head, the inner conflict swirling prominently in his dark eyes as his tone dipped “She would have to do a lot more than apologize.”

“Yeah, but you still wouldn’t turn her away.” You retorted, firmly, your penetrating gaze not leaving him.

Silence. Heavy, deafening silence that spoke for itself.

Thomas remained unmoving, his shoulders sagging as he peered at you, solemnly. You didn’t break the agitated eye contact, merely taking a step back.

“That’s what I thought. I guess we both have our blind spots.”

The dark-haired boy looked away from your eyes, finding himself tragically at a loss for words. He hated that you were right. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he knew that even after what Teresa had done, he still cared for her. If he were to see her again… He highly doubted he would forgive her instantly, especially while WICKED still had Minho, but if she were to have a change of heart and choose to be on their side again… He knew he would have an agonizingly hard time discarding her.

You watched Thomas’ demeanor shift, his tense expression softening as he exhaled in defeat. Evidently the thought of trying to get you to keep your distance with Gally was no longer the dominant one on his mind. You took no joy in fighting with him, but Thomas needed to understand exactly where you stood, on all counts. You didn’t need his approval on this. You and Gally were together, and if Thomas, as your friend, couldn’t be happy for you, then the least he could was stay out of it.

“At least mine isn’t torturing our friend right now.” You gritted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas heard it clearly, though. His gaze shot up to meet yours once more, and you almost winced at the miserable glint in his eyes. You suddenly felt like you had just kicked a puppy. Was that a little harsh? Maybe. Was it accurate? Unfortunately, it was.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel bad, your compassion prevailing. You and Thomas may have had moments where you didn’t see eye to eye, but he was a good and loyal friend to you. There was no need to hit him where it hurt.

“I’m sorry…” You breathed out, giving him a forlorn, apologetic look.

Thomas only shrugged in response, eyes momentarily averting to the ground “No, you’re right. I just…” He inhaled, deeply, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his head in irritation “I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

You delivered him a soft smile, touched by his concern, even though there was no need for it. At least not in that regard “Gally is not going to hurt me.”

Your friend responded with a tight-lipped smile that read ‘I hope that’s true’, before turning away and beginning to walk back to the room the rest of your friends were in. You were about to follow him, until… you realized how badly you needed just a few minutes alone with Gally, before you, him, Thomas, and Newt would venture into the city. You didn’t know just how dangerous the path was, and you couldn’t bear the idea of something terrible happening along the way. Sure, you could be optimistic and wait until after you all got back, but… could you? Could you really? You had missed him so much, and so far you’d only managed to say a few words to each other.

Oh, screw it. You were not asking for much. You needed it, so you were going to take it.

With a quick look-around, you turned on your heels, following in the direction you thought you’d seen Gally go. Sadly, as you reached the spot where he had disappeared from your line of vision, you had no idea where to go from there.

People were bustling all around you, some reloading their rifles, others fixing their gas masks. In one of the rebels, you recognized the guy that had stood behind Lawrence, while you all were being introduced to him, earlier. You thought his name was… Jasper? Whatever. Clearly he knew Gally, so you hoped he would know where he would have gone to.

You cleared your throat, striding up to him with as much confidence as you had been able to gather “Hi! I’m sorry, do you know where Gally’s room is? Or… wherever it is that he sleeps around here?”

The rugged man looked you up and down, a strangely amused smirk curving his slightly crooked mouth. It confused you and almost made you feel uncomfortable, but not enough to make you retreat without an answer.

“You must be the girlfriend? From the maze? The one he wouldn’t shut up about finding?” He rasped, snickering under his breath.

You relaxed, inwardly, glad that you had apparently picked the right person to ask. Also, hearing that Gally had mentioned you during his time here, undoubtedly made you smile on the inside.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me. So where can I find him?”

The rebel chuckled, pointing upwards to the corridor a level above that led to the more secluded parts of the base “Right up there, seventh door on the left.”

You muttered a quiet ‘Thank you’ before scurrying off, hoping you would, in fact, find him there. Soon, you made your way down the corridor, your gaze bouncing from one door to the next one. Five, six… seven.

Your heartbeat suddenly began quickening as you stared at the tattered, scratched-up door in front of you. You allowed yourself to take a deep breath before finally knocking.

“Yeah?”

You exhaled in relief, a smile instantly making its way onto your lips. Gally’s voice. He was in there.

“Gally…? It’s me. Can I come in?”

After a short pause, he replied.

“Of course. I’m just about done here.”

You pushed the door open with a slight ‘creak’, and there you were met with a sight that brought a burgeoning blush to your cheeks. Gally’s bare back was turned to you as he was changing, about to reach for a grey hoodie that was draped over an old wooden chair. You could see his toned muscles tensing, every crevice generously offered to your view, as you felt your face grow hotter. He looked even stronger than he did back in the glade, his form even more glorious than you remembered it.

You didn’t get to remain in your trance for too long though, as Gally slipped the hoodie over his head and turned around to face you, a loving grin playing at his lips.

“How’d you know where to find me?” He arched a curious brow, making his way over until he was standing right in front of you.

You smiled and took a step closer, minimising the distance between the two of you and gently taking his hand in yours. Your fingers interlocked perfectly, like puzzle pieces. “Jasper told me.”

Gally chuckled at that, eyes widening in slight surprise “You know his name?”

You shrugged “I pay attention.”

His grin widened, warmth filling his eyes as he gazed down at you, giving your hand a tight, grounding squeeze “You always have.”

Your heart raced faster as you raked your gaze over every feature of his face, each faint freckle on his cheeks, his plump lips, his vibrant eyes… You couldn’t help yourself as you threw your arms around him, Gally not wasting a second in wrapping you up in his strong embrace. He held you so fervently, so close to his body, you thought he was almost lifting you off the ground. So many emotions swirled between you two - the relief of both of you somehow having survived every hardship up until this point, the joy of having found your way back to one another, the desperate urge to never let go of each other again, the fear of somehow getting separated along the way of whatever came next. You felt a small shudder pass through your body as you clung to him for dear life, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I’ve missed you… Gally, I’ve missed you so much…!” You uttered on half a breath, succumbing to the compelling warmth that emanated from him.

“I’ve missed you, too, Y/N… More than anything.” He whispered so close to your ear, his arms around you tightening as he slowly rocked you from side to side, making sure you felt how much he meant it.

Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, in spite of your best attempts at keeping them at bay “I’d spent months thinking you were… Dead… I-I thought it was over, you were gone, I’d never see you again…!”

Gally released a fervid sigh, at last picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around his midriff as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder “I know, baby, I know… But I’m okay, I’m right here. And you are, too…”

You stifled a sob, pressing your slightly trembling lips to his temple, basking in the feeling of his heated breath fanning your skin “I’m scared I’m gonna wake up any moment, and you won’t be there. It’s already happened too many times…”

“Won’t happen this time. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, Y/N…” He promised, lifting his head from your neck so that he could meet your glimmering eyes “I’m not gonna screw it up twice.”

You let out a quivering breath as you gazed into the eyes that reflected all the unyielding love you harbored. Every nerve in your body pulled you into Gally, every thump of your heart resonated within him as he held you in his arms. This was the feeling you thought had been lost forever to you. Something so powerful and burning that no other force could compare to it. He was the piece of your heart that had been ripped out all those months ago, the piece that was now being graciously returned to its rightful place.

With a tenderness no one else but you has ever shown him, you cupped his face in between your soft palms and leaned in, your lips pressing fully and ardently against his.

The long-overdue kiss instantly clouded Gally’s senses, his heart hammering against his rib cage as his lips reciprocated, moving against yours with enough passion and longing to make your head spin. Your legs tightened around his midsection as his left hand moved lower to grasp at your hip, endeavouring to bring you even closer, as if that was possible. Gally swallowed the soft whimper that escaped you as he kissed you deeper, all his conscious thought paralyzed by the enrapturing sensation of your lips on his. He didn’t believe anything in the world tasted sweeter. He had spent countless nights dreaming about the day he would get to do this again. And now that he had you back, just like this, so close, so yearning, so thoroughly his… he wished it would never end.

Your fingertips threaded through the short sandy strands of his hair, your body feeling weightless, almost floating. You bit back a mewl as Gally’s hand reached up to your face, his calloused fingers brushing your cheek and trailing down your neck in a feather-light caress. Every bit of your skin felt so sensitive to his touch. After a few more blissful seconds, you finally broke away from his lips, both of you panting heavily, catching your breath from the heavenly feeling of your kiss.

Gally rested his forehead against yours, his mouth still mere inches away from your own “I’m never losing you again… Never, you hear me?”

You nodded, frantically, holding onto his neck with both hands, his closeness filling you with a searing light. It exhilarated you, made you feel like you could do anything, overcome anything, as long as you two were together.

“Sounds good to me…”

Thank you for reading!

Tags: @seldomabsent @obsessivelycapricious @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @lattsgocaps @magnoliabloomfield @sherbertscarrothead-2 @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny

#the maze runner #tmr gally #the death cure #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally tmr #gally x fem!reader #gally x you #gally x y/n #tmr gally imagine #gally fanfic #gally #will poulter #tmr imagine #gally the death cure

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superrman · 4 years

Text

I got a couple asks about my reply to an ask where I said that I acknowledge cop propaganda in procedural’s, and believe that everyone falls for it, while still acknowledging that I have enjoyed those shows. More than one ask said they are fully aware of the propaganda and so they can still watch those said shows, this is something I want to expand on because No one is above falling for propaganda.

I have loved and watched cop shows since I was 12, and I also have studied propaganda academically for half a decade, and that is why I can say with certainty you have internalized and fallen for propaganda within cop shows.

It is important to note that cop shows are designed with the aid of professional police for this exact purpose, they are insanely important to the normalization of behaviours of police, and justifying their actions, because you as an audience emotionally connect with the characters.

There are many things that have circulated around tumblr that have acknowledged certain forms of propaganda - the continuous use of violence, in a way that claims that the police must in many cases resort to violence, Trevor Noah did a great small clip showing how many cop shows do this. On top of that the villainization of internal affairs and the entire defence system, claiming public defenders are moronic and don’t defend their clients well, which in turn makes people afraid to turn to public defenders, which in turn results in people not asking for a lawyer, and at the same time paint defence attorneys as evil as well, and an impediment to justice which makes people dislike lawyers in general.

These are all important functions of the propaganda system as it justifies many actions of cops, but there are so many layers of propaganda, with hundreds of cop shows, all with police consultants, all employing underhanded tactics and specific messaging impacts you, below is a small list of things I either personally have internalized or know people have internalized. In brackets I mention just a couple shows I have seen this on, keep in mind many shows do this and they all tend to overlap

1. We as a society all agree that murder is wrong, but how many times in a cop show have you rooted for the police to get away with murder? How many times has the protagonist killed someone for personal reasons? They may find a way to kill said individual in the line of duty and that is legal, and or in many cases personally hunt them down and commit murder, and then the story line is about them getting away with murder, but at the same time many story lines in the same series say no one has a justifiable reason for murder, and they may even arrest someone for the same reason as they killed someone.

This teaches the audience that you can’t kill for abuse, country, cause, or revenge, but the police can and should kill, and if they do kill it was only for a valid reason

(NCIS, NCIS LA, The Mentalist)

2. The ‘red tape’ and intense scrutiny of police shootings is the worst, and harmful for the police, in general the scrutiny of all of the measures meant to prevent police violence and harassment of citizens is hindering the police. How many shows have you watched where the main character scoffs at the idea of mandatory counselling post a shooting, or is angry by the idea of having to justify why they took a shot and killed a man

(Rookie Blue, Cold Case, Hawaii 5-0)

3. The police are underpaid and lack the funds for the necessary policing measures. This one in particular I internalized to the extreme, I have always held the false assumption that police are underfunded like all of the other services they equate themselves too - but the police departments have more than enough funds as the protests have revealed. Yet, every cop show depicts a scene of complaining about budget cuts, lack of funds, cannot pursue a case because of budget cuts. On top of that any cop that gets caught stealing is justified because if he was paid fairly, he wouldn’t have to do that.

(Castle, Lucifer, Brooklyn Nine Nine)

4. The police can’t save ‘everyone’ in the context of the most vulnerable of society drug addicts, sex workers, the mentality ill, the sad reality is that some people ‘don’t want help’ - it says societal problems are unsolvable not that the police are not qualified or effective in solving society problems but even then there is a plucky do good cop not yet jaded that will try and try to save people, but eventually have to come to a hard realization you can’t save everyone

(Perception, Criminal Minds, Law and Order SVU)

5. The police always work with experts in the field, have the best technology and moreover, experts will want to work tirelessly for the police or the police themselves are geniuses- this is not the case, in fact in many cases police incompetence and ignoring experts leads to false convictions

(Bones, Rizzoli & Isles, all the CSI, Criminal Minds)

But the most malicious form of propaganda is the way in which police procedurals acknowledge the real world political climate and use the criticism as a way to bolster the police, by this I mean, so many cop shows will have an episode of focusing on a corrupt cop, or a civil rights activist wrongfully arrested, wrongful conviction in general, and the narrative will show outrage throughout the system, cops all banning together to undo this injustice, but with enough resistance from some bad apples to make it seem as if they acknowledge the system is not fully functional but reinforces to the audience that many cops can and do fight the system to get the wrongfully accused out of prison, to protect civil liberties and that cops do care and will willingly fight their own to do it .

Moreover, this is shown in the context of the importance of police brotherhood. Being a cop is always more than a job it’s a lifestyle, you can’t stop being a cop, and it’s a part of your identity, so its extra heroic that the protagonist challenged the corrupt cop, it’s as if he or she turned on his own family to do what is right.

There are always episodes about going after the rich and politically connected and how no matter what the protagonist will do what’s right and fight against the system to get justice for a poor, or poc , or down on their luck victim, it teaches us that even though in the news cops might not be able to stop all of the big evil rich people, Kate Beckett or Jake Peralta is out their fighting the fight, trying to take on corporations, it teaches us to go on faith that the police are separate from the corrupt system, and will try to take on politicians and corporations rather than the reality of them working for those same people

Finally, so many cop shows have minorities and women leading the charge to challenge the old guard, usually with the new era of white men, that laugh at the police brutality and incompetence of older generations. It’s hard to ignore the damage the police have done, but every show simply disregards this with a change in the vanguard, newer cops are immune to racism, classicism and agree older cops used to break the rules and where more corrupt but now that isn’t the case. It’s meant to undermine all of the arguments against police, think about how many people agree that the police during the civil rights movement of the 1960s were bad, or the police that co-operated with drug dealers were terrible but no more, cops now are much more ethical.

Propaganda is dangerous, because it is continuous and repetitive, it is subtle and seeps into your life, you internalize things because we all consume media for enjoyment not to subject it to academic rigour, and that's how they get you to sympathize and feel for cops, we constantly watch stories of brave souls putting their lives on the line for us, and of course we want to believe that this is a real life story and reflective of most cops, but we need to realize now that this is not the case in reality, and its not just a few bad apples, but a system that is broken beyond repair, who relied on the entertainment industry to spread and maintain the false face of the police industry to avoid and undermine criticism.

Just remember No one is above falling for propaganda

#police brutality #cop propaganda #propaganda #the most dangerous cop shows are the progressive ones

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s0seo · 3 years

Text

Attitude Adjustment Pt.2

Pairing: Roommate!Jk x Reader x Roommate!Taehyung

WC: ~10.8K. Rating: M.

Description: After hearing an argument between your two roommates, you are a bit shocked to hear that they both have feelings for you. Add a bit of possessiveness and a dash of domination and you have one heck of a trio.

Genre: Smut. It’s literally just smut Bit of exposition, but it’s a filthy mess.

Warnings: little to no editing, swearing, bit of humor, dirty talk, a bit of guilt, hair pulling, slight choking, rough sex, low key masochism? (Idk they like their pleasure and pain), possessiveness, jk is sweet for a few seconds, unprotected sex (please be responsible), nipple appreciation (love to see it), praise kink (Taehyung is a good boy), soft dom vibes, use of a wall, oral sex (f&m receiving), scratching, mentions of jealousy, possessiveness, mentions of yoga, usage of the words: princess and baby.

A/n: I hope you all enjoy! And as always I hope everyone stays happy and healthy. If you see a typo, no you didn’t, and if you don’t like fics like this, then don’t @ me I told you it was filthy.

A/n 2: I really want to send a shoutout to @mwitsmejk . Tbh I’d you hadn’t commented on the post I wouldn’t have written this, so I guess you could say this is for you ❤️😉

A/n 3: I’d also like to give a big thank you to @hobeemin and @jimidol for giving this a glance and making sure it was good enough to post.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

You feel the words being whispered against your skin, pulling you from your slumber. From the gravelly tone, you're pretty sure it’s Jungkook.

For a moment, you think it’s just your imagination. After all, you were alone when you went to sleep last night, weren’t you?

A featherlight touch on your shoulder brings back everything that happened last night; the movie, the sex, god the sex, and ultimately falling asleep together.

‘Fuck,’ you think to yourself. ‘Why the hell did you have to make a move on both of them? And at the same time!’

This is definitely going to change things. But now, the only question is, how? You know that you’re interested in both of them and vice versa, but would they be willing to share?

God, just the reminder of the word makes you cringe internally at yourself. Telling Taehyung to share probably wouldn’t be that hard, but Jungkook… That needs to be handled...very, very delicately.

In retrospect, telling him that if he wanted you, he was going to have to learn to share while teasing him and making him watch as Taehyung fucked you was probably one of the worst ways you could have approached the subject. Well, you live and you learn.

The more you think about it though, the more you realize you don’t regret any of what happened. If anything you felt a bit satisfied at the look on his face as you took his ego down a few notches. What was it that Jungkook said to you last night right as you were falling asleep? “If it came down to it, you’d be all mine.”

Figures, you were a fool to think that just one night of teasing would get his ego under control.

A warm arm wraps around your body and you feel Jungkook’s muscular chest pressing against your back as he whispers, “I know you’re awake. If you want to avoid me, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

Maybe you’ll get another chance to play with his ego sooner than you thought. After all, putting him in his place and making him squirm has always been so much fun. If you didn’t know any better, you might even say that he enjoys it just as much as you do.

You release a quiet chuckle at his words before slowly sliding your body further back against his. If the firmness against your ass doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re awake, then his quiet groan in your neck certainly does.

Slowly opening your eyes, you hold back your disappointment as you find the space in front of you empty. Taehyung must have left early this morning to take a few photos. You know he’s been working on a photography project, but you thought he might have woken you up before he left.

“Morning,” you hear Jungkook whisper once more, his voice still scratchy from sleep. His fingers trace circles over your stomach, and as he presses his lips into your neck, you rub your ass against the hardness behind you, smiling to yourself as he releases another quiet groan. The sound alone brings warmth to your core.

You slowly turn over and look up at him. He stares into your eyes from behind his messy waves, his hand on his fist as he smiles playfully down at you.

“Hi there,” he says softly, and this time, his fingers slide along the curve of your waist. His smile is infectious. You’re almost tempted to run your hands along his body and turn his grin into a whimper. Almost.

“Tell me, were you pretending to be asleep because you regret what happened, or because you were hoping I’d wake you up with something other than words?”

His implication sends a wave of heat through your body, and you imagine just how good it would feel to be awoken by the feeling of his lips on your skin while his fingers tease you.

You return his smile as you admire his messy hair along with the visible bruise in between his throat and his collarbone. A small part of you knows they’re going to be an inconvenience for him, but you don’t really care. If anything, it only makes you want to give him more. Slowly, you reach up and brush your finger against his collarbone. He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours.

“Neither. I was just waiting for you to leave so I could have the entire bed to myself again.”

You take the opportunity to give him a light playful kiss then trail your lips down to his neck.

“I guess that’s not going to happen now is it,” you pout playfully against his skin.

His arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer, and he rolls onto his back until you’re left straddling him. He looks up at you, smirking as his hands slowly travel down from your waist to your thighs.

“Now what kind of guy would I be if I left you without even saying goodbye,” he asks as his hands finally settle on your ass.

You know his words were likely meant to be a dig at Taehyung, but you ignore them and instead glance at your clock and smile. “Don’t you have to leave soon?”

“I’ve still got like an hour. I'm sure they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes,” he assures you. “Besides,” his hands slide up your waist once more as he sits up and glances over at the mattress where Taehyung should be. “What’s wrong with wanting you all to myself for a bit? Don’t you want to have some fun?”

He leans in for a kiss but you hold a finger up to his lips to stop him.

“Uh-uh. Go. You need to shower. I don’t want to be the reason you’re late. Besides, your morning breath is practically lethal.”

He lets out a playful chuckle at your insult and before you can react, he gives your finger a playful nibble and wraps his arms around you.

You release a cry of surprise when he rolls your bodies over and settles himself between your legs. One of his hands pins your wrists above your head while the other travels down to the side of your body and lingers.

“You want to talk about morning breath,” he teases from above you. “I’m pretty sure your snoring could be heard from the other side of the city.”

A smile fights its way to your face, you are reminded once again why you consider him one of your best friends. His jealousy and possessiveness might leave much to be desired, but he is also one of the sweetest, silliest, and funniest people you know.

You let out a gasp of mock offense and see a mischievous glint make its way to his eyes. His fingers slowly slide up to your rib cage, and as you stare into his eyes, you know what’s about to happen.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn as you try to hide your grin and narrow your eyes at him. He smiles down at you suspiciously, and before you can push his hands away they’re on your sides tickling you. You release a cry of laughter, rolling your bodies over once more to straddle his waist as you begin tickling him as well.

For a few seconds that feel much longer, the two of you continue to roll one another over and claim your victory again and again. Finally, Jungkook cries out in defeat and you settle yourself on top of him once more as you look down at him and gloat.

“Looks like someone forgot they’re ticklish too…”

Your breathing is heavy as you pin his wrists above his head and you fight off a receding wave of giggles. Leaning down close to his face you can’t help but smile down at him. His eyes sparkle, and his smile is wide as he gazes up at you and steals a glance at your lips.

As you take in his expression, you realize once again how much you care about him.

His bright eyes stare deeply into yours, searching for something you can’t quite put your finger on.

You’ve noticed this look before, many times actually. It’s as if you’re the most beautiful and important thing in the world, and if he looks away even for a moment, he’ll miss you.

This is the look that has made your heart skip a beat so many times over the years, he’s always been so easy to be happy with. Joking, teasing, even when you’re struggling, you’ve always appreciated how easily he gets you.

You glance down at his mouth, your fingers lightly caressing his face before planting a soft, slow kiss on his lips. His hips rise up in response, and you feel his firmness meeting your core as he grabs your hips and begins grinding your body into his.

You know that all it would take to keep him here is sliding forward a few inches, and if you did he probably wouldn’t even argue with you. It would be so easy.

‘No,’ you chide yourself. ‘He has to get to work.’

You’re not going to let yourself be the reason he comes home later complaining about how much he’s fallen behind on his workload.

“What am I going to do with you,” you sigh as you smile down at him and caress his face once more. Just the sight of him is so precious.

He reaches up and smiles, pushing a bit of your hair behind your ear as he admires you in return.

“I can think of a few things…” he teases.

“That won’t make you late,” you counter as he sits up once more.

“Well,” he says, “I do need to shower before I leave. Thanks to someone,” he teases, planting a playful kiss on your neck afterwards, “I got a bit dirty last night.”

“How unfortunate,” you pout, “well I just so happen to have a perfectly good shower that isn’t being used.”

His hands lazily massage your ass as he pretends to consider your offer.

“Who am I to refuse the offer of someone so beautiful and kind,” he asks, releasing a fake sigh.

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness and chuckle as you climb off of him, your smile now a copy of the one he gave you earlier.

As you watch him get out of bed, you admire his figure from behind. His shoulders and back are well toned, and the tattoos that run up and along his arm are all complimented by the curve of his biceps. Not to mention the scratch marks left on his shoulders from your nails last night.

“You know, normally I’d say it’s rude to stare, but in your case, I guess I should just ask if you’re enjoying the view.”

Your gaze travels from his lower body to his eyes, only to find him smirking at you over his shoulder.

In a lot of ways, you see yourself in him. His confidence, his humor, and his commitment to those he cares about is close if not equal to your own.

He was right when he said that the two of you were perfect for each other. However, what he continuously fails to realize is that unlike him, you can keep your cockiness and selfishness in check. Well, most of the time anyways.

You return his smirk and rise out of your bed. Making sure to keep your tone innocent, you walk up to him slowly.

Looking up at him from beneath your eyelashes, you glance down at his lower body and tease, “it’s nothing I haven’t seen before…nothing too impressive here...”

He releases a doubtful chuckle before turning around to walk into your bathroom.

“Umm what do you think you’re doing,” you ask him before he can take a step in.

He looks down at you in confusion.

“I thought you said I could use your shower?”

“Of course you can, but just because I let you use my shower doesn’t mean I’ll let you track water all over the floor once you’re done.”

He lifts his eyebrows up at you as if to say “really,” but you guide him out of your room and confess, “alright, you got me. I don’t really give a shit about the water, I just really have to pee, and as close as we are, I don’t really need you to watch me.”

He holds back a chuckle at your confession, but you ignore him and continue. “Besides, you need to get your toothbrush and your clothes anyways.”

He lets out a laugh at your words and gives you a nod of defeat. “Of course, I’ll leave you to it then.” He winks down at you before casually walking down the stairs to his bedroom.

‘For someone who said they needed to get to work, he sure is taking his sweet ass time,’ you think to yourself as you rush to your bathroom and finally manage to relieve yourself.

Afterward, you quickly brush your teeth and turn the shower water on so that it’s warm for Jungkook when he comes back.

While you wait for him to return, you take the opportunity to look in the mirror and check out the damage from last night.

As your eyes finally settle on your reflection, you release a gasp, trying your best not to cringe at your reflection. This is what Jungkook called beautiful just now?

Your cheeks are puffy, smudged mascara surrounds your eyes, and there are dried outlines of black tears scattered along the sides of your face. You reach up to put your hair in a bun as you inspect the bruises on your neck and collarbones.

‘That’s going to be inconvenient to cover,’ you think to yourself. It’s a good thing you don’t have class today. You don’t know what you’d do if your professor saw his most promising assistant with bruises all over her neck.

Still gazing at your reflection, you smile and admire the marks further down your body as you remember the feeling of the mouths that put them there. The potential thought of more is already getting you much more excited than it should.

The bruises on your shoulder blades from the wall Jungkook pinned you against match the ones on your thighs from how hard he grabbed you. You were aware of his strength, but feeling him grab you like that and watching his muscles flex as he pounded himself into you was really something else.

The image of the scratches on your back brings a pleasant shiver down your spine and into your core as you remember the matching set you gave Jungkook as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him deeper.

Just thinking about it makes you want to dedicate an entire day to let him fuck you again and again until you beg him to stop.

Now that you think about it, he seems so laid back about everything that happened last night. Maybe discussing your relationship won’t be that difficult after all. The understanding between the two of you might actually form on its own.

He’s always been this way with you. No matter what you’ve done, who you’ve slept with, or what others have said about you, Jungkook has always been by your side to support you, to care for you. Honestly, a part of you sometimes wonders why. You just wish he wasn’t so fucking possessive and cocky all the time.

The reflection of Jungkook’s slender frame pulls you from your thoughts, and you make a point of inspecting his body for any marks that might seem troubling.

“What,” he asks, his toned body walking towards you.

“I feel kinda bad for all of the bruises I left on you,” you admit. While they look pretty to you, you know that ultimately they’re going to be a problem.

He looks at himself in your slightly fogged mirror and shrugs at his reflection before wrapping his arms around the front of your body.

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t really care about them.”

You lower your head a bit but persist, “Still, I probably should have asked if you were okay with it before I did it. I know I pushed you kinda far last night with the teasing and the pain.”

“Actually,” he looks up at the ceiling as he thinks, “I don't mind a little bit of pain, giving or receiving.” He adds the last part with a wink and a nibble on your ear.

“Oh really? And what about the teasing,” you ask, slowly turning your body towards him, ready to test his claim.

He grins down at you with a spark of mischief in his eyes. “I love a challenge.”

You let your eyes roam across his face and give him a smirk. “Noted.”

Reaching up, your finger traces over one of the marks you left on his neck, and grimace a bit.

“Won’t these be inconvenient to cover though,” you ask, adding a bit of pout to your voice.

He angles his head before asking, “now why would I cover them?”

“Well, they aren’t exactly the image of professionalism,” you counter.

He gives you a smirk. “What are they going to do, fire me from my own company?”

You open your mouth to argue, but he raises a finger to your lips to interrupt you. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

You open your mouth to bite at his finger, but he gives you an amused smile and releases a dramatic sigh.

“If anything,” he mutters quietly, “they might make work a bit easier.”

He leans back against the wall, a hand running through his hair as he gazes down at you through half open lids.

‘Easier?’ You ask yourself silently. ‘What the hell does he mean easier?’

You place a hand on your hip while raising an eyebrow. “I really don’t see how.”

Cockiness radiates off of him as he reaches grins and pulls your body to his. “Well, I usually have a hard time getting around the office without employees throwing themselves at me.”

His confession makes you roll your eyes. ‘Of course he can’t make it five feet without being hit on,’ you think to yourself sarcastically. ‘After all, who would ever be able to turn down the famous game designer Jeon Jungkook?’

Your eyes search his face for a moment. You can’t tell if he’s saying this to be honest or if it’s just to see how you’ll react. Knowing him as well as you do, it’s most likely a bit of both. You’ve seen first hand just how many people would like a piece of him. Yourself included.

Still, would it hurt him to show a bit of humility every once in a while? You let out a laugh at his brazenness. Surely he doesn’t expect you to fall for this does he? His hand slides down the curve of your spine as you bat your eyelashes at him. If he wants to be this way, fine. Two can play at this game.

“Why don’t you just tell them you have a girlfriend or something,” you ask, feigning innocence.

He leans his head back against the wall, a chuckle leaving his pretty lips. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but they never believe me.”

When you don’t respond and instead simply narrow your eyes at him, he continues. “I don’t have any proof. No pictures, no date nights, no random gifts. It's almost like I…” he raises his eyebrows at you dramatically, “don’t have a girlfriend.”

“And just how often does this happen,” you ask, vaguely aware of the jealousy lining your tone. Now that you think about it, as much as you complain about Jungkook’s jealousy and possessiveness, when it comes to the thought of someone else having him, you aren’t much better.

His glances down at you silently, slowly walking you backwards until he presses your body between the counter and his muscular body. The muscles in his arms flex as he places his hands on both sides of your body and traps you against him. His face is hovering just inches from yours now, and he gives you a smirk that quickly turns into a playful pout. “Every. Single. Day,” he whispers, bringing his lips closer and closer to yours with every word.

You trace your finger down the side of his face, your eyes conveying a look of mock sympathy. ‘Now he’s just begging for me to claim him,’ you think, as you graze your nails along his throat.

“Oh you poor thing, it must be so hard fighting off all of those pretty girls and boys every day,” you tease, your pointer finger now grazing his bottom lip as you continue. “Constantly begging for your attention, begging for you to make them yours…”

“Yeah,” he agrees, noticing your jealousy, “it really is. But you know what the most satisfying part is?”

You angle your head at him, and he slides his hand along your thighs before grabbing your ass and lifting you onto the counter.

“What?”

He glances down at your lips, whispering into the steamy air between your faces, “Knowing that at the end of the day, no matter how hard they try, they’ll never compare to you.” His tone is playful, but his eyes are serious. “I belong with you.”

“You belong with me,” you echo back to him, finding satisfaction in his claim. Your nails lightly graze his scalp and shoulder as you stare up at him, a seductive smile spreading across your face.

He leans into your lips and whispers, “I always have baby,” before meeting them with his own.

The kiss is passionate yet unhurried. Your tongue flicks against his bottom lip while your legs wrap around his waist to pull his body closer. As he opens himself up to you your fingers find their way to his jaw and firmly hold it in place. His lips break apart from yours as you stare into his eyes. “You’re mine,” You say slowly, placing one more kiss on his lips. He’s perfect for you. He moans into your lips, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull your body into his while his head drops down to your chest.

You slide your nails lightly up the length of his abs as you pull away and bite down on his bottom lip. He’s intoxicating. His lips, his body, everything about him.

“Say it,” you breathe.

You release a whimper as his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your nipple, your fingers lacing through his messy waves.

“I’m all yours,” he says, his words followed by the sound of your moan as his fingers pinch your nipple.

“I told you I’d make you moan for me,” he whispers.

He lifts two of his fingers to your lips, and you roll your tongue around them

A gasp leaves your lips as his mouth travels to your other nipple while he lowers his fingers from your mouth to the wetness between your legs.

“God, you’re already so wet for me,” he groans against your skin before giving your nipple another sudden nip.

“Is it because you love the idea of having me all to yourself?”

He inserts one finger, then two, smiling as you whimper. “Maybe it’s the fact that you have a bit of competition,” he challenges as he adds a third.

You slide your fingers along the side of his face and firmly grip the back of his head between your hands. When his hand between your legs stills, you stare into his eyes and bring your face a breath away from yours.

“It’s because,” you confess quietly, while slowly sliding your hand down to his cock and wrapping your fingers around it. “I love the thought of other people wanting what’s mine.”

His cock twitches at your words, and you slide your fingers over the precum that coats his head, eager to spread it along the rest of him.

He releases a gasp as you tighten your grip and smirk. God, he feels so good in your hand. So thick and long, you can’t wait to have him inside you.

You throw your head back and whine as his fingers curl upwards, his free hand now reaching down to tease your clit.

“Who knew you’d be such a slut for my fingers…” He growls the words into your neck, your walls clench around him as his breath sends shivers along your skin.

“I could make you fall apart so easily…” he teases, increasing his pace. “With my hands…” he whispers, squeezing your clit and making you whimper. You feel your orgasm building with every sentence. At this rate, you’ll be cumming in no time.

“My lips…” he continues before trailing his lips across your throat and marking you roughly. “Even my c...cock…” he sputters out as your fingers lightly caress his balls while increasing your own pace. You can tell that his self control is slipping. Just a little bit further now.

He rests his forehead on the curve of your neck and releases a groan against your sensitive skin, his fingers still roughly hitting your spot over and over again. “Tell me what you want,” he groans. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”

Your walls clench at his words. He’s all yours, only yours. “Harder,” you rasp as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck...” you gasp out.

He brings his lips to your ear. “You wanna soak my fingers in your cum, don’t you baby?”

You give him a nod and whimper as he reduces his pace to a slow aggressive assault, your nails digging into his shoulder.

“Say it. Tell me how fucking desperate you are for me.”

“Please,” you whimper, “I need you inside of me.”

“I’m all yours baby,” he whispers as he finds pleasure at the sight of you falling apart on his fingers.

Your hand leaves his cock and you grab him by his hair to pull him in for a desperate and forceful kiss.

“You’re mine,” you growl and meet his thrusts with your own as he returns to his deliciously aggressive pace.

“Only yours.”

You bury your nails into his shoulder as your orgasm barrels through you and onto his hand. Wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body and you hear him groan at the pain as he continues to tease you through your orgasm.

When you come back down from your high, he lifts his cum-soaked fingers to his lips and slowly licks two of them clean.

His last finger rises to your lips, parting them. He smiles as you meet it with your tongue and swirl it around the taste of your pleasure.

He removes his other hand from your clit and pulls your head back to look up at him as he smirks down at you. “Did that feel good? Using my fingers to fuck yourself…”

You nod up at him, your eyes staring into his fucked out gaze while your hand smoothly slides down to his throat. Slowly you pull his lips back to yours, your free hand and drops your free hand back down to his cock. “How about I return the favor,” you ask softly, smirking at him.

You give it a few strokes before pulling his body forward and sliding him into your inviting core.

He groans out at your tightness, his forehead dropping to your neck. As he finally bottoms out, you let out a gasp. A grin spreads across your face as his hands roughly grab our ass and he lifts you up and pins you to the wall.

You release a cry at the force of each of his thrusts while reveling in the pleasure as your nails dig into his back. The pace he sets is slow at first, too slow. “Faster Kookie...harder”

He brings one of his hands to your throat, his grip tightening as he increases his pace.

“That’s right baby. I’m all yours. Now let me hear how badly you need me inside of you.”

You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a whine as he rams into your g-spot.

“I want to hear you fucking say it,” he growls as he brings his face close to yours and tightens his grip around your neck.

Again, he thrusts into you. And again. And again. The pace is as brutal as it is satisfying as he continues at an agonizing yet deliciously brutal pace while hitting your pleasure every time.

“Please...I...I need you…fuck…”

You are a moaning, whimpering mess as he fucks you against the wall, your shoulders already bruising once more from the force of his thrusts. It feels amazing.

Your nails rake along his back and through his waves, pulling them harshly. He leans his head back, a groan of ecstasy leaving his lips at the combination of pleasure and pain as you tighten your legs around him and pull him in even deeper.

Reaching up, you grab his face and admire his concentrated features. “Put me back down on the counter.”

He turns around and sets you down just as you instruct him. “Good boy,” you say as you slide your body down until your feet hit the floor.

You see a look of annoyance cross over his face at the name, but it disappears as soon as it arrives.

You turn around, facing the mirror as you spread your legs and reach behind you to guide his lips to your neck. You sigh at the feeling of his teeth on your skin once more and lean your head back as his body slides against yours.

As his cock passes against your tailbone, you close your eyes, your head falling forward as he teases your lips.

“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.”

You feel his hand reach up and smoothly wrap his fingers around your throat.

His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making tour walls clench in response.

“Look at me,” he whispers into your ear as he slowly slides in and out of you once more.

When you open your eyes, the image before you brings a moan. You watch as his fingers slide from your throat to your breast and tease your nipple with his fingers.

“I want to hear you say it.”

Your reflections are blurry, but that just makes it even hotter. Your gaze travels up to his and you tilt your head to the side and plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you…” you groan out breathlessly as he begins slowly thrusting in and out of you, “to show me exactly what I’ve been missing all this time.”

You tighten around him as he pinches your skin, and he leans forward and begins marking your neck once more.

“Your wish,” he says before placing a rough kiss on your neck, “is my command princess.”

You have half a thought to offer a snarky retort, but all thoughts disappear as he slowly pulls himself out and suddenly slams back into you. You can’t help the cry that leave your lips, or the stars that fill your vision as he begins his grueling pace.

You watch the way his neck flexes as he thrusts, the way his lips curve as he gasps out. God he’s so fucking attractive. And he’s all yours.

You feel yourself tighten around him and find him watching your bodies through your reflections. Fuck he looks so good like this. You both do. The only thing that could make this better is if Taehyung was here too.

You lean forward, bracing your hands out in front of you as you watch your bodies.

“Fuck me harder. I want to feel all of you inside of me.”

He grabs a handful of your hair and forces you to arch your back as he grunts and buries himself even deeper. God he makes you feel so full. He’s so rough with you. It’s perfect.

You look into his eyes as every thrust forces a gasp out of you, his hand occasionally traveling down your back and slapping you ass hard.

“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing my cock like this.”

You moan back to him in response and your eyes roll back into your head as he reaches around and begins teasing your over sensitive clit again.

“Fuck…I…I’m getting close,” you warn him. You try to fight off the pleasure, to make this moment last as long as possible, but he squeezes your clit tightly and growls into your neck. “Cum for me baby.”

When you whimper, he pinches your clit again and bites down on your neck. “Come on, don’t fight it… show me how easy it is to make you cum.”

You narrow your eyes at his reflection and release a cry as he slaps your ass hard once more and moves even faster.

“Come on...show me how much you love my cock…”

He slaps your ass again and places his fingers around your neck. You feel his breath tickle your skin with every gasp, his grip tightens as his lips tease the skin of your neck once more.

Suddenly, he sinks his teeth into your neck, and you feel your body stiffen, your legs giving out on you completely as your second orgasm finally crashes through you. He continues his thrusting and tightens his grip on your hips as he rests his body against yours and unloads himself inside of you.

You feel the vibrations of his groans through your skin and reach behind you to and guide his lips down to yours. As he finally pulls out, you look down at your legs and admire the mixture of your cum as it slowly slides down your leg.

Part of you imagines how hot it would be to see Jungkook and Taehyung on their knees in front of you licking it up. Who knows, with the way your relationship with them has been progressing, it might not be that unlikely.

Your focus returns to the man behind you, your legs still a bit shaky as you turn around. A small smile lines your face as you brush his hair from his face and caress his beautiful features.

He picks you up, and you wrap your legs around him once again as he carries you into the shower and sets you down on the built-in seat.

As you take a moment to allow your muscles to rest, you find yourself realizing just how out of shape you are.

Your body, for many obvious reasons, is exhausted. If your relationship with these men is going to continue, you’re going to need to start going to the gym again. Part of you is actually surprised you haven’t suffered from a hip cramp already. ‘Maybe some yoga would be better,’ you think to yourself.

As you somehow manage to rise to your feet and stand with him underneath the surprisingly still-warm water, your eyes close and a soft groan escapes your lips at the feeling of it.

When you finally open them again, you find Jungkook staring at you. His eyes follow the water as it cascades down your body, his teeth softly biting his bottom lip as his hands find your waist.

As your hands travel along his arms, you lean forward and drag your tongue along his neck. His grip on your waist drops down to your ass, and you begin trailing your lips along his collarbones.

You love how sensitive his body is. How easy it is to mark it, and especially how much he enjoys you playing with it. Especially his nipples.

Your lips make their way to one of his nipples, and he groans as you drag your teeth against it. Looking up at him, you smile as you slide your tongue against it and continue to tease it with your teeth. You’ve always loved watching him squirm.

Slowly, you move to his chest plate, your lips trailing featherlight kisses on his skin before continuing on to his other one.

He grabs your bottle of shampoo and squeezes it into his palm before massaging it into your hair. You close your eyes, a moan escaping your lips at the feeling of his fingers on your scalp. As the water washes the shampoo away, you take the opportunity to grab your body wash and work on cleaning his body.

You watch the bubbles form in your hands while he turns around, closes his eyes, and lets the water run over him.

He squirts more shampoo into his palms and this time massages it into his own hair while you reach forward and spread the soap along his body. God you could rub his body all day. His skin is smooth, yet firm as your fingers massage the bubbles into his muscles.

Now that you think about it, if you had known he was going to be this open with you this quickly, you would have made a move on him sooner.

His back arches as he leans into your hands, and you press your body against his back and begin spreading the body wash across his chest and stomach.

You let your hands slide lower and slowly wrap your fingers around his cock, smiling as he leans further into your body and lathers more body wash over his arms and chest. You place a few bite marks across his back and in between his shoulder blades and smile as he twitches in your palm.

Your hand begins sliding along his length, and he leans his head back and releases a groan as you slide your other hand up his chest and wrap your fingers around his throat.

His breathing quickens as you slide your thumb across his tip, and you gasp as he suddenly turns around and smiles down at you. His hands caress your face as he plants a sweet, lazy kiss on your lips. As his tongue slides against your lip, your hand returns to his cock, hoping to finish what you started.

He looks down at you once more and smirks before pulling his body away. “I thought you said you didn’t want to make me late?”

You narrow your eyes at him coyly and smile.

“Fine.”

“Good girl,” he whispers before squeezing a bit of body wash in his palm and spreading it across your body.

His hands slide over your shoulders and your breasts, then massage their way down to your ass, and finally come to a stop between your legs.

You close your eyes and let out a sigh as you feel his gentle fingers cleaning you up. Where the hell did he learn to do this?

His lips brush against yours, and a moan escapes your lips as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. God he feels good. His hands massage your ass, and as he pulls your body closer to his, you feel his still very much erect cock resting between your bodies.

Looking up and into his eyes you give him a smile, lower yourself onto your knees, and take him into your mouth. After all, what kind of roommate would you be if you didn’t help him get rid of the problem you caused?

He squirts some of your conditioner into his hands and massages it into his hair before doing the same to yours.

As his fingers slide though your hair he grabs a handful of it and throws his head back as you take him deep into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathes as you lift up a hand and begin massaging his balls.

He reaches out and places a hand on the wall in front of him as he leans forward, grits his teeth, and watches you from above.

“I’m gonna cum.”

You look up at him from beneath your eyelashes and take him out of your mouth. Smiling up at him, you wrap your fingers around him and continue jerking him off nice and slow, your lips sucking hard around his tip over and over again.

He sucks in a breath and caresses your face as you stare up and smile at him.

“Come on Kookie, what are you waiting for? I thought you said you were in a hurry…”

You feel him twitch in your hand once more and he lets out a whine as you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock up from the base and around his tip and suck it extra hard.

“Please,” he breathes.

“Come on, show me how good you taste Kookie…” you tease, giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Show me how easily you fall apart for me…”

His hands brace against the wall in front of him and he blocks the water from hitting you as you drop your hand and finally take him as deep as you can.

You feel him tense inside of your mouth a moment before you feel him shoot his load down your throat.

He releases a groan, and he thrusts himself into your mouth as he rides out his orgasm.

Slowly, you pull your mouth away from him, lick up the remaining cum from his cock, and smile up at him once you finish.

He pulls you up to your feet and places a kiss on your lips as he moans against your mouth.

“Let me taste,” he whispers against your lips before meeting his tongue with yours.

He explores your mouth for a few seconds, and your hands rise up to his chest as you rotate your bodies and moan at the feeling of the warm water running down your back.

Your hand travels down to his length you pull away for a minute as you finish rinsing him off.

His hands caress your face, and you stare up into his eyes as he looks down and lightly kisses your nose.

“Where are your towels again?”

When you don’t answer right away, he shuts the water off and steps out.

“Unless you plan on me licking you dry,” he teases, “it would probably be a good idea to give me a hint.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully and point to the nearest cabinet beneath the sink.

“And here I was thinking that you would be smart enough to look for them.”

He tosses a towel at you in response and you wrap your towel around you and head back to your room to get dressed.

“I hope you don’t mind. I went ahead and laid all of my clothes out,” he calls as he notices you staring at his clothes on your bed.

You tilt your head at him and sigh.

“Guess that means I have to help you get ready then doesn’t it?”

You reach into your dresser and grab a grey shirt you ‘borrowed’ from Jungkook a few months back and slide on a pair of comfy black sleep shorts.

“Is that my shirt,” you hear him ask from behind you.

“Technically speaking, it’s our shirt. I distinctly remember that I’m the one who bought it.”

“For me.” He adds with a laugh as he puts his underwear on.

Your eyes follow his movements as he puts on his pants next. Before he can button up his shirt though, you grab his hands and sit him down in your bed.

You straddle his thigh and smile at him as you begin sliding his tie around his neck. His thigh flexes between your legs and you angle your head and smile at him as your fingers fasten his buttons.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this,” he confesses.

His hands slide along your body and finally settle on your ass as he looks up at you.

You leave a few of the top buttons of his shirt undone and look into his eyes for a moment. Just seeing the adoration written across his face as his gaze meets yours is enough to make you want to melt in his arms.

Taking his face between your palms, you lean down and place a featherlight kiss along his lips. He returns it earnestly. Your body responds eagerly to his hands as they travel along your ass and your back. Your mind however, keeps wandering back to his earlier confession. ‘If the workers at his office don’t believe he has a girlfriend, why not give them something to talk about’ you think to yourself.

Breaking the kiss, you lightly slide your lips along his jaw until you reach his throat, your tongue massaging his sensitive skin. Using one hand to turn his head and hold his jaw in place, the other slides beneath his collar as your lips find an empty space and mark it.

He releases a groan from beneath you, and you remove your mouth and place a feather light kiss over the fresh bruise before buttoning the rest of his shirt and tying his tie. That ought to be enough.

“What time do you think you’ll be back today,” you ask as you follow him to the living room.

He looks at his watch before sliding on his blazer and pursing his lips.

“Probably no later than six or seven. I have a meeting with a few of the game developers, and I need to fix some of the bugs that we found yesterday.”

You give him a nod. Seven should work fine. That’ll be just in time for dinner. You know that it would also be a good opportunity for all of you to finally talk and get on the same page.

“Okay. Tae and I can wait for you to get back and we can cook dinner together.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue as he responds dryly, “Sure.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he ignores your irritation.

“I better go. I’ll see you later,” he says before placing a quick gentle kiss on your lips and walking out the door.

You know that he’s probably upset that you’re including Taehyung in your plans, but he’s just going to have to get over it. Taehyung isn’t going anywhere, and if he wants to act like he’s the only one who can have you then he’s got another thing coming.

You run a hand through your hair and walk back to your room as you release a yawn. A few more hours of sleep probably wouldn’t hurt. You grab the damp towels from on top of your bed and hang them up before turning your lights off and crawling back underneath your blankets.

By the time you wake up Taehyung should be back and you and him could probably make some lunch. Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll bring some food home. Hopefully he’s taken some nice photos while he’s out.

You curl your body into your blankets and close your eyes as you imagine yourself between your roommates once again.

Bright light shines against your closed eyes, and you turn your head away from it and find yourself underneath the body of your sleeping roommate. Well, half underneath him.

His head is resting between your neck and your shoulder and one of his arms is resting on your waist while the other is pulled against his chest.

One of his legs is resting between yours as he holds onto you like one of his body pillows from on top of your blanket.

You smile down at him and use your free hand to softly brush a few of his curls from his face.

He seems to still be in his street clothes. His loose white v-neck and his tan pants stand out against the black of your comforter.

“God he looks so good,” you think to yourself. “He’s even adorable when he sleeps. If not even more so,” you add after a moment.

The bruises on his neck as well as the bite mark on his shoulder, courtesy of your teeth last night, send a feeling of satisfaction to your core. He looks so good like this, covered in bruises you gave him, like marks of commitment to you and only you.

The thought of that alone causes you to slide your hand down from his face to his chest and trace your finger over one of the bruises you left there.

You hold back a smile as you hear the light sound of snoring enter your ears.

Looking over at your clock you see that it’s already two pm. It’s been about four hours since Jungkook left. You wonder how long Taehyung has been back now. Maybe he was waiting for you to wake up and eventually fell asleep.

A grumble from your stomach reminds you that it’s time for lunch and you look down at your roommate and try to figure out how to remove yourself from his embrace.

After trying and failing for a few minutes, your stomach and your bladder decide that enough is enough. He’s just going to have to wake up too.

You decide to be gentle, and lightly sweep his hair out of his face as you look at him. Your lips place a soft kiss on his forehead, and you feel him move beside you and pull your body closer to his.

You watch his eyes open slowly, and a small smile makes its way to his face

“Hey you,” you whisper softly as you stare into his eyes.

He gives you a smile and reaches up for your hand before kissing it.

“Good afternoon sleepy head.”

“How are you feeling,” you ask as you continue to smile at him. “Since last night, I mean.”

He purses his lips as he thinks about it before giving you a sweet smile.

“I’m good, better than good actually.”

“I didn’t push you too far last night did I,” you ask, keeping your voice soft.

His eyes widen momentarily and he shakes his head as he tries to reassure you, “no really I liked it I promise. You made me feel good about myself, so thank you.”

You give him a slightly relieved smile and move his hair out of his face flushed.

“Was there anything that you didn’t like? Anything that made you uncomfortable?” You ask as you trace a finger along his jaw and around his lips.

He begins shaking his head in response but stops abruptly.

“I...I just...I feel kinda nervous,” he confesses.

“About what?”

“I don’t think Jungkook likes me. I mean I thought we were friends and everything for a while, but once he found out I liked you, he just got really mean.”

Your eyes search his face. Sometimes you forget that he’s the oldest of your two friends. While Taehyung used to be more or a silly jokester when you first met him, he slowly became more shy as the years went on.

You aren’t exactly sure why caused the change, but his lack of confidence in himself is what makes him such an easy victim for Jungkook’s judgement.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” you reassure him. “He’s just jealous.” You know deep down that what you said is probably true, but the reality right now is that Jungkook’s jealousy towards Taehyung means that he’s already decided that he doesn’t like him anymore. Maybe you can change that though. You hope that one day he will regain that bit of confidence he had when you first met him.

You softly run your fingers through his messy curls as you think about how to make Taehyung feel more at ease while also convincing Jungkook to back off.

Suddenly, your nose picks up a smell. Looking down at your friend you ask, “Tae, did you shower before you left this morning?”

He tenses up before shyly looking away and shaking his head.

“Umm kinda, I rinsed off a bit, but it was really early so I just kinda threw on some clothes and left.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you pull out of his embrace. “You know how I feel about dirty bodies in my bed,” you groan.

He looks away again, but sits up and adds quietly, “you didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night.”

“What was that,” you counter, both amused and a bit surprised at his sudden show of sass.

He clears his throat before correcting himself and explaining, “well I uh… I know that the blankets needed to be washed anyways so I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal you know… sorry.”

You hold your frown for just a few more seconds then break into a playful smile. “It’s fine, I need to wash these sheets today anyways.”

You notice him quietly release a breath and let out a nervous chuckle at your response before standing up and stretching. As his shirt rises, Your eyes slide to his stomach and you reach forward and slide your hand beneath it.

His cheeks redden as he notices your touch and you slide your fingers a bit further up his stomach as you say, “I don't remember telling you to leave just yet.”

He rests a knee on your mattress and leans into your touch, his eyes closing as your other hand reaches up to caress his face.

“Is that what you want,” you pout innocently, “to leave me all alone in here?”

He bites down on his lip nervously, and you slide your hand downwards now, already prepared to tease him.

You want to leave me up here all by myself? Just like this morning, without a single goodbye,” you pout as your fingers tease the waistband of his pants.

“I…I don’t want to wake you,” he sputters, a small whimper leaving his lips.

“But you missed all the fun,” you pout. Jungkook and i had a nice little shower together. I know it would have been so much nicer if you were there too…”

He gasps as your finger traces over the hard outline of his cock, but you simply ignore it and continue. “I could have helped you… the same way I helped him…”

He moves his knee, and slowly slides his body down to your floor. His sweet eyes stare into yours as he gazes up at you from his knees.

You move to the edge of your mattress and open your legs so his head can rest between your knees.

Taking your index finger and placing it beneath his chin, you lean forward and taunt him. “You would have liked that wouldn’t you? Watching Jungkook fuck me until I can’t take it anymore…”

He sucks in a breath, his gaze sliding to your mouth.

Your fingers slide through his curls and grab them roughly as you whisper, “maybe, you would’ve wanted to see the look on Jungkook’s face as you fucked every last thought of him out of my mind…”

He moans at the pain from his head and you place a light kiss on his lips. “Would you have liked that?”

He nods up at you earnestly.

“That’s too bad…” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders . “Maybe if you hadn’t left so quickly this morning you could have gotten all of them.”

When he closes his eyes in frustration, you gently slide his curls away from his eyes. You can tell he’s frustrated. He’s probably beating himself up for missing the opportunity to be with you again, and losing to Jungkook.

“I meant what I said earlier though.” You whisper conspiratorially, hoping to pull him from his thoughts. “You should probably take an actual shower. You still smell like the bar from last night.”

He rubs the back of his neck with his hand and looks down at his lap as he nods.

“Yeah you’re right I don’t exactly feel clean right now anyways.”

You smile at him and playfully ruffle his curls as you say, “hurry up and shower, I’ll go ahead and put my blankets in the wash and then we can make some lunch when you finish.” He looks down at his lap, and you slide your fingers over the fabric. “Who knows, maybe we can have some desert as well,” you add with a smirk.

He gives you a nod as he stretches and tiredly shuffles out of your room before grabbing a towel from the hallway closet and heading to the bathroom.

You pull your sheets and blankets from your bed and bring them to the washing machine. You’re just about finished setting up your bed again when you hear Taehyung walk up behind you.

“Ooh that was pretty fast!”

You glance over at him, ready to respond when suddenly your mind goes blank. A stray droplet of water drips from his hair and along his chest as he leans against your bedroom doorway. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but when you saw him in the past you made a point not to let yourself stare, now there’s nothing stopping you.

“What,” he asks concerned, “is there something on me?” He looks down at his body and your eyes travel down to the towel hanging loosely around his waist.

Your mouth waters at the image of what’s behind the fabric and you begin having an internal struggle about what you want to do.

The sheets on your bed are new. You just spent the last twenty minutes struggling to put your bed together. But just look at him. How are you supposed to ignore how fucking good he looks right now.

‘Okay,’ you tell yourself, it’ll be fine. The sheets won’t get dirty, I’ll figure it out.’

You clear your throat and angle your head at your roommate who’s now looking at you like you’ve just grown a third head.

“Come here,” you whisper quietly, pointedly, as you curl your finger at him.

He walks towards you nervously, and your hands travel along his damp skin. He sucks in a breath as you reach forward and begin tracing your fingertips along the outline of his biceps. You feel the goosebumps that form along his arms and back as your fingers slide over it, and you let your eyes slowly roam up his body until you’re left glancing between his eyes and his mouth.

“Do you know how long it took me to put my bed together?”

He looks at your bed behind you and widens his eyes a bit.

“Umm a while?”

You reach up and lightly grab his chin.

“So long,” you answer, your lips lightly brushing against his.

Your hand slides up and down his chest and abdomen, your nails scratching his skin slightly as it goes.

He closes his eyes and sucks in a breath as your nails tease at his nipples, and you guide his body to your bed and sit him down.

“You know what that means,” you ask careful to keep his body in place.

When he shakes his head, you grab his chin firmly and whisper, “it means, we’re going to be very, very careful.”

He looks up at you, uncertainty filling his gaze, as you lean him back and climb up his body. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a few remaining water droplets dripping down his neck and chest.

His chest is your first stop, your tongue lightly sliding along his smooth skin until taking a detour to one of his nipples.

His hands travel to your hips, and he grabs them softly as he watches your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his nipple gently, and you lightly graze your teeth against the sensitive skin and pull.

His fingers tangle in your hair and you slide your tongue along his chest until you get to his other nipple and do the same. You notice that he’s already hard beneath his towel and let one of your hands untuck the fabric from his hips.

From somewhere in your room you hear your phone vibrate, but you ignore it. You have more important things to worry about right now.

Your tongue travels up his chest and along his collarbones, your lips placing light kisses over the bruises you made on his soft skin last night.

His hands slide along your thighs as they make their way beneath your shirt and around your breasts.

You grab his wrists and hold them together firmly above his head, your mouth returning to his for a slow hot kiss. Your tongue slides against his and you nip at his bottom lip before whispering, “no touching.”

He gives you a nod, and you slide your body until you’re kneeling on the floor in between his legs.

“You know, seeing all of that water on you made me so thirsty,” you tease.

He sits up and leans back on his elbows, biting his lip nervously before nodding down at you.

“Maybe you can help me with that.”

You curl your finger at him once more, and he leans towards you as he waits for you to continue. You lean forward and globe him a slow kiss while sliding your hand along his jaw. You pull back after a moment and slide your tongue along his bottom lip.

“Hmm, I thought that might help, but I guess I need more.”

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, and you look into his eyes and bring two fingers to his mouth.

His lips part as you slide your fingers between them and his tongue swirls around them as you pull them back out.

“Good boy,” you praise as you slide your tongue along the same two fingers.

“Maybe this would make me feel better,” you tease as you slide your fingers over his precum and spread it along his length.

“Would you like me to try?”

He releases a whine before quietly groaning out the words, “yes...please...yes.”

You smile up at him as you slowly drag your tongue from his base to his tip.

His hands ball into fists as he gasps, and he squeezes his eyes shut as you take him into your mouth.

“Look at me,” you say. “If I see you look away or close your eyes again I’m going to stop. Understand?”

He gives you a quick nod. “I understand.”

“Good,” you say and take him back into your mouth, deeper this time.

You watch one of his hands move closer to you, and you lightly drag your nails along the insides of his thighs.

Again you hear your phone vibrate, but you’re so close now. You can’t just stop.

“Please, let me touch you…”

You slide your hand up and down his length and give him a nod.

“Sure.”

His hand slides around the back of your head and he grabs a fistful of your hair as you take him into your mouth again. You try to take him deeper each time, but he’s just too big. You feel him reach the back of your throat, and groan as your gag reflex threatens to appear.

‘Come on,’ you tell yourself. ‘Just a little bit more. If you could do it last night you can do it now.”

Your phone vibrates now for a third time, and you see Taehyung reach behind him and grab your phone from beside your pillow.

“Here, go ahead and take it. It seems pretty important if they keep calling.”

You take him out of your mouth and look at the caller ID. To your surprise it’s your father. Well, not technically your father. It’s his secretary. You know that he would never take the time to personally speak to you.

You roll your eyes and clear your throat before releasing a sigh of exasperation and accepting the call.

“What?”

“Hi Miss, Y/N, this is Keni Ouro calling from your fathers office, do you have a minute?”

You grit your teeth, as you glance at your roommate in front of you.

“Not really, what do you- I mean what does he want?”

“I’m glad to hear you’re available,” she responds sweetly.

“No I didn’t sa-“

“I have your father on the line,” she interrupts as usual. “Just a moment.”

Taehyung watches as your gaze hardens, and he mouths the words “everything okay” as you take a seat on the floor.

You give him a nod and cover the mic of your phone as you whisper, “I’m really sorry, can we finish this later.”

He wraps his towel around his waist once more and kneels down in front of you as he nods.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he whispers, “but you got this.”

He closes the door behind him quietly, and as he leaves you find yourself thinking you father better have a damn good reason for calling you out of the blue after all this time.

You hear a click on the line as your father finally picks up the phone, and take notice of your angry reflection across from you.

“Father,” you say, the word both your greeting and your method of irritation.

“Hello, Y/N.”

***************

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#jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #possessive jungkook #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts roommates au #bts pwp #Attitude Adjustment 2

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butterysalt · 3 years

Text

Fun | Sherlock x platonic!Reader

Pairing: Sherlock x platonic!gender neutral reader

Request ( @a-paper-cut ):

Word Count: 2,202

Contains: Mentions of child abduction, platonic fluffiness and banter :)

A/N: AAAAAAA thank you so much, lovely! This was my first request and I was SUPER excited to write it hehe. I’ve been on a slight creative block lately and I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope this fic does justice for what you wanted and I hope that you are doing amazingly 🧡🧡

It was an early, snowy winter morning in London. You and Sherlock Holmes have been mind-boggled by a puzzling case for the past week. The detective proposed that the two of you go on a walk to allow some fresh air in the brains again. This suggested that even his extensive mind palace and composing weren’t helping the genius. Not that you were complaining about sharing a nice stroll with Sherlock. It had been years after all since you two had spent any casual time together. Like what people normally did in their free time, anyway.

The two of you stepped side by side, feet planting in the thin sheet of snow on the ground in unison. You grinned a little at the matched body language. You and Sherlock always had special ways to subtly communicate with one another. It was like a part of your minds were connected.

“Anything yet?” the tall brunette questioned. Your lip twitched upward. “Don’t rush the process, Sherlock. Just enjoy the moment. Live in it a little.” Sherlock’s long drawl could be heard next to you. His walking strides were growing longer as his patience began to thin out. You could practically hear the subtle gnawing of his teeth.

“We’ve only been walking 5 minutes,” you flouted, “Loosen up a bit.” Sherlock snickered to himself, messing with his gloved hands. “You’re already trying to read me?”

“You’re walking like you’ve got a stick up your arse. It’s clear you’re agitated,” you jested. The curly-haired detective sneered at you and kicked a clump of ice out of the way. “I can’t think, Y/n. We have potential homicide to solve and we’re here drudging in the snow.”

“Remember, this was your idea, genius. Unless you can come up with something else, this is all we’ve got.” Sherlock went silent, chewing the inside of his cheek. His mind wandered to try and come up with something snarky to throw at you. Perhaps a witty comeback that would leave you in doubt. The headache he was dealing with was enough to strike him in his train of thought. He shook it off and his focus returned to the matter of urgency. Unsolved case.

Sherlock lifted his face to the sky, blowing a hot cloud of breath into the chilly London air. He tugged his scarf a little closer to his neck, shoving his gloved hands down into his thick coat. The breath cloud was a common habit of Sherlock’s during cold weather. It mimicked the effect of blowing cigarette smoke, just without the tar and nicotine. Fortunately, the only time the detective abused drugs anymore was when cases had him horribly stumped; thanks to you and John’s efforts, his drug use was much more controlled now.

“Five missing children. All between the ages of 7 and 9. We know that the connection is tied to their private schools. Three different religious private schools within a 10 kilometer radius — so, fairly close together. The parents reported their children coming home with expensive gifts from a mysterious donor shortly before they went missing. They referred to the perpetrator as ‘Ray’. Anyone handing out shiny trinkets to naive children is either a philanthropist or a predator. I’d like to bet on the latter.”

You sighed, mentally reviewing all of the evidence from the case in your head. “But all of the children knew basic safety protocols: don’t talk to strangers, never accept anything from strangers, the whole package. Their parents are terribly traditional. They never would have let any of them see the light if they broke any of those rules. So the chances are near impossible that they would have fallen for such typical child abduction tricks.”

“Near impossible, L/n. That means there’s still a possibility and possible is all we need to screw this up,” Sherlock tutted. He blew another large cloud of air, shaking some light snow off his curls. You frowned, “The suspects. We’ve interrogated the popes, teachers, parents… who are we missing?”

Sherlock stopped walking. You turned to check up on him, finding him with his eyes shut. “Maybe we’re asking the wrong questions…”

“Of course we’re asking the wrong questions! We have all the pieces in our hands but no instructions, Sherlock. We’re running in circles with this case,” you walked over to a public railing, leaning against it and looking out across the long white blanket that stretched to the horizon.

He joined your side shortly after, bending down to pick up some rocks to toss down the snowy hill and watch as they made skinny trails in the frosty powder. Sherlock sighed out, exasperated and worn out. “We’re not getting anywhere by mulling over it, are we?”

You smiled at him and shook your head. You pulled your coat a little tighter around yourself. “That’s why I’m here to keep you in check. It’s good to get some air, you know? Christ knows when’s the last time you did that simply because you wanted to.”

Sherlock’s eyebrow perked up and he faced you with a blank expression. “How do you mean?” Your eyes widened a little, unsure of how you should pick out your next words. “Well… you know, you don’t exactly, uh…” Nervously, your eyes flicked up to his. He was watching your expression very carefully.

“You don’t spend a lot of time for yourself,” you said simply. Sherlock frowned in disagreement. “I spend a lot of time by myself. I thought you knew me better than that,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, leaning your back against the cold railing now, crossing your arms. “In your mind palace, Sherlock. I mean you don’t do things you enjoy.”

“Who said I don’t enjoy things?” he countered your query. You found yourself forming a cold sweat, debating on how to deliver your message. “Hobbies?”

“Violin.”

“Meh. Parties?”

“You disturb me.” Your best friend’s disgust made you cackle. “See, that’s my point! You don’t know how to have fun anymore. What happened to old Sherlock?”

Now this was a personal offense against Sherlock. “What? You don’t think I’m fun?” Sherlock sounded incredibly appalled by your claim. A hot cloud of air rose to the sky when you scoffed.

“Holmes, you are probably the farthest thing when it comes to the definition of fun!”

“Well, probability-wise, that’s highly improbable when Mycroft exists.”

“His poshness makes up for it. You’re just irritating.” Sherlock puffed out his red cheeks, nudging you playfully. “Oh, come on. You must admit that I’m at least an interesting character?”

You pondered in fake thought, scrunching your face together. “Interesting is debatable. Fun? That’s foreign territory, Sherlock.” The tall man grimaced deeply at your bluntness that he clearly had issues with. “What do you mean by ‘Old Sherlock’? What was good about the ‘old me’? I consider myself much more refined in the present day.”

Old memories of the two of you hanging out with one another as teenagers came back to you. A smile melted on your face from the warm feelings of nostalgia, the chilliness from the snowfall leaving your body.

“You used to prank Mycroft all the time. Everything was always a competition with you and me; we would go from racing down the neighborhood to reach my house first or rush to finish homework and claim the telly before the other could. Oh! We would always make up fake cases, too, trying to entertain a mystery that didn’t even exist,” you laughed to yourself, “Look at us now.”

Sherlock grumbled at the reminder of your old shenanigans. He wasn’t always the fondest of his younger self. But he had to admit he was reckless, even as a child. It was a simpler time and kids didn’t have much to fret or fear.

“Now you’re all enigmatic and stoic with your flipped up coat collar and scary cheekbones. The difference is so disappointing, it’s sickening,” you gagged. Sherlock slipped off his glove and jabbed his freezing hand against your neck, making you exclaim at the coldness and shove him backward. He wore a victorious smirk at your suffering. You pointed a hard finger at him, holding back your own laughter to prove a point.

“NO, that’s not being fun, Sherlock. That’s torture- sadism! You’re just an arse!” He threw his arms in the air, tossing his glove in your face. “It’s subjective! I can be fun,” he insisted.

“You’re predictable, Holmes. You don’t remember what good humor is and it shows in your actions. You pick everything up from books and telly. You can’t surprise me anymore,” you declared. Sherlock’s expression contorted into shock as he stared at you in disbelief. You had left the great Sherlock Holmes baffled. The silence was deafening — music to your ears.

When you thought you were winning this argument, a special glint quickly shone in Sherlock’s eyes. Your expression dropped and then you were pushed backward. There was no railing behind you anymore to catch you.

As you were falling, you naturally grasped for something to hold on to. In this case, Sherlock’s coat. The evil smirk on his face was immediately replaced with shock then fear as he was crashing hard into you. Gravity did the rest of the work. With the momentum you had already begun, dragging Sherlock down with you was one of the worst possible outcomes of the situation. A crude curse slipped past his lips and both of you latched onto each other because there was nothing else to brace with.

What was initially meant to be a playful fall down the snowy hill turned into a rolling battle full of frantic thrashing and screaming as both of your bodies thumped and tangled with each other. The two of you occasionally bounced a few inches off the ground and crashed back into the ground, knocking the breath out of both of you. The wild human avalanche down the hill was finally put to a stop when you rolled into a tree. With a loud OOMPH, you and Sherlock flopped into the ground, groaning and croaking in pain. Neither of you moved for the first passing moments, unable to process what just happened.

Your fall was broken when you landed on top of Sherlock, his body sprawled out in the cold snow, rasping heavily. Some snow fell off your form and your arms shook as you propped yourself up, no longer caring about the fact that you applied all the pressure in your friend’s ribs.

“You alright, mate?” you panted, checking up on Sherlock, eyes analyzing him for any serious injuries.

“You take my breath away.” You sputtered and shook your head at his ridiculous humor. “Aren’t you just romantic?” He squinted his eyes and flashed a sarcastic smile but groaned out, “No, really. Please get off my chest.”

“Oh God, sorry,” you scrambled off of him and he rolled over into the snow, gasping for air as he clutched his side in pain. You punched him in the shoulder. “You bloody twat, Sherlock Holmes! Pushing me down a hill by Jove’s sake!”

“I remember it being much more fun when we were younger,” he grunted out, pushing himself onto his forearms. And just then, his eyes burst wide open. His face slack-jawed as his brain computed at top speed. He was onto something.

“Sherlo-”

“FUN, Y/n,” he articulated, scrambling over to you and grabbing you by the shoulders. You stiffened and backed away, startled by his abrupt realization.

“Oh, Y/n, you are brilliant! This is why we work together!”

“What?! What are you-”

“The kids were abducted because they were having fun! ‘Ray’ is Remus Stooge, another private school kid in the area. The Stooge family owns several of the land plots around this corner of London and they’re the ones funding all three schools — The Stooge’s are plenty wealthy. The children were going to Remus’s home, ditching class time to get a personal house tour of his daddy’s money. The fancy car rides, luxurious delights, shiny sneakers and tailored clothing… Who wouldn’t pass up on an opportunity like that? It only makes sense why they were lured in so easily! Their rich best pal Remus has been the one inviting them right into the trap!”

“What- Sherlock! Where is this all coming from?! How do you even-”

“Trust me, Y/n!! I have it figured out- It all makes sense!” he interjected again. The look on your faces was bizarre. You tossed a handful of snow at him as he blocked it with his hands. “NO?? It doesn’t! This is so sudden-”

Sherlock was on his feet in an instant, brushing off the powder from his coat and yanking you up. His eyes were gleaming with excitement. “We have to go tell Lestrade, now! Call John and get over to the Stooge’s place!”

“To arrest the kid?!”

“No, the butler!” He grabbed your gloved hand and dragged you up the steep white hill. You shook your head wildly, “Holmes, you better have a bloody good explanation for this in the cab or there will be hell to pay.” Sherlock smirked triumphantly and squeezed your hand.

“Come, L/n! The game is on!”

Requests are open! <3

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock fic #reader insert #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x platonic reader #platonic #fluff #humor #request #gnc #gender neutral reader #a-paper-cut #prompt list request

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sjhanny2000 · 3 years

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Secrets Worth Sharing

A/N: Hey y'all! This is my first Naruto fanfic, which I've also posted on Archive of Our Own. Please be kind and enjoy!

Warning(s): Minor character death, angst, hurt/comfort, intersex characters, arranged marriage, talks/thoughts about abortion/miscarriage

~~~~

Tobirama Senju was a man of many secrets. Well, more like a man that highly values his own privacy and is not as open as other individuals (like his easy-trusting older brother for example). He was not given the privilege of being open with his truths and feelings, having been groomed from birth to be a heartless shinobi who did not allow his emotions to interfere with his performance. His father had been harsh with these facts whilst training and out on the battlefield, blunt and uncaring that Tobirama and his brothers were children and children had no place amongst the battlefield and shouldn’t be expected to take a life without a bat of an eye. Kawarama had only been seven when he was ripped away from this world, so young and full of life, and it had taken everything in Tobirama’s small, lanky eleven pre-pubescent form to not break down much like his elder brother had, to feel such unbridled emotion his surviving otouto had felt. Itama’s death only a year later (sweet, innocent, and healing Itama) wrung him dry of tears, of allowing himself to be so vulnerable when it came to loss because to die ‘in battle was honorable’, at least that’s what their father had said as dirt was piled atop of his otouto’s grave to the right of Kawarama’s. He fought with every fiber of his being to protect what little family he had left, taking hits meant for Hashirama and saving Toka from debilitating blows, creating new jutsus, and putting the needs and feelings of others before his own because he wasn’t supposed to feel, shinobi don’t feel-.

Then, as he stood dutifully beside his anija opposite the Uchiha heirs amongst their fellow clansmen, Tobirama couldn’t help but feel. Moments before he had nearly stolen the life of one Izuna Uchiha and as adrenaline and tension crossed through his ever lanky yet muscular form, the conversation mingling between the opposing clans made his heart thumped against his chest as the two clan heads agreed to peace. Hope fluttered dangerously in his chest as his wine colored orbs searched Madara’s half hidden profile, gazing at those pools of obsidian with caution and reluctance whilst trying to determine whether the Uchiha was speaking truth when he offered his hand in establishing between through blood soaked clans. The time following the mutual surrender of the Senju and Uchiha, of Hashirama and Madara finally obtaining the means of support to create the peace they had dreamed of from a young age as they were forced to bury clansmen and young brothers, was a whirlwind of events, filled with peace talks, negotiations, and making sure his anija did not make a fool of himself. He waited for the other shoe to drop as each party laid out the final agreements, for this foolish dream of peace between the two rivals to come to an end before he began to believe it was true, and much to his surprise and his other clansmen (including his far too optimistic elder brother), the Uchiha set a requirement for concession.

“A Senju heir must marry one of ours, as a show of mutual acceptance of these peace agreements and in means of acquiring extra security for our clan.”

By the time this peace talks came to be, Hashirama and Mito had been married for nearly a year already and with the eldest Senju heir already taken and the other two dead and gone, the responsibility of establishing peace, in ending the unnecessary bloodshed between their respective clans, to honor the unneeded deaths of Itama and Kawarama, fell onto Tobirama’s shoulders. Being placed in such a position with no means of escape or replacement had been both suffocating and frustrating but he knew better than to reject the frail olive branch the Uchiha had set before them. Hashirama had tried to reason with Madara, (“Madara, is this really necessary-?”), and before the Uchiha clan head could even think of a response, Tobirama calmly sealed his fate.

“We agree to the terms you lay before us.”

His readied agreeance shocked not only his brother and cousin but floored the Uchiha delegation, particularly one Madara Uchiha who stared at him like he had grown a second head. Many deemed him one of the greatest haters of the Uchiha, having seen his treatment towards the rival clan on and off the battlefield, but Tobirama truly had no firm and enduring hate and ill-will towards the fire natured shinobi. Yes, he felt hate towards the Uchiha that had slaughtered his brothers but it was not directed towards the entirety of the Uchiha; they had been at war and a shinobi did whatever it took to survive or gain an upper hand, even if it meant killing the innocent. He found himself wondering what Kawarama and Itama would be like as he stood there with determination, arms crossed over his chest with finality. Would they be upset at seeing him agree to practically give himself away as a bargaining chip as a means to obtaining peace? Would they beg for there to be another way, to demand the Uchiha change their mind? Sadly, he would never know and that piece of knowing reality only strengthened his resolve.

Hashirama, placed between a rock and a hard place, conceded to giving away his only living brother away as a means of finally having peace and Tobirama watched as dread and reluctance colored his anija’s tar colored eyes. The plans of this arranged marriage were set and Tobirama found himself coming to look eye to eye with his promised husband and obsidian orbs subtly clashed with his pools of merlot, an unspoken bond now tying them together forever. Upon arriving back at the Senju compound, Tobirama found himself subjected to a nearly hysterical Hashirama, his elder brother demanding why, why had Tobirama agreed to such demands, there had to be another way-! Toka, while significantly more in control of her emotions, had similar demands, her main emotions having been anger and frustration (“There is only enough room for one idiot in this family, little cousin, and Hashirama already has that role covered!”) and after dealing with a depressed Hashirama, Tobirama did his best to soothe his cousin's worries. The only calm and rational person aside from Tobirama himself was Mito, his well-collected and commanding sister-in-law swiftly jumping in and knocking some sense into her blubbering husband and seething cousin-in-law and if she told him that she questioned his intelligence as they parted ways for the night, only the gods and the chirping crickets would know.

With the negotiations finished and the bed made and laid in by both parties, the construction of Hashirama and Madara’s dream village began and with it began his forced courtship with the Uchiha clan head. Hashirama, in an attempt to be intimidating, threatened the apathetic Uchiha with bodily harm if he ever came to harm his “precious otouto”, those his threats fell short for numerous reasons, the largest being that the peace treaty prohibited any violence occurring between the clans. Tobirama was swift in reminding his anija of this fact. Madara and his courtship began with a rocky start, as many arranged marriages do (Hashirama and Mito’s being the rare exception), and the need to be open emotionally, to not hide his emotions and to be the mind and voice of reason always was a difficult task. His betrothed also struggled with this reality, to be vulnerable in a world that ate such an open state with murderous glee, and arguments were had and feelings accidentally stepped on. Two emotionally stunted men together was a recipe for disaster and many watched them with bated breaths, for their engagement to fall apart, for the cautious hopes for peace to shatter into millions of pieces before their very eyes. The weight to succeed weighed heavy on Tobirama’s shoulders and as he stood in the middle of Madara and Izuna’s backyard amidst another argument with Madara, copious amounts of rain hailing from above without restraint as frustration and confusion tormented his soul, it finally forced him to collapse. He shouted at the Uchiha standing a mere few feet away from him under the roof of the engawa, tears racing down his marked face as he shouted himself hoarse, one of the worst storms in the region's history unfolding around them. Madara watched him with irritation, a well-made mask of indifference sitting upon his stoic visage, and as Tobirama finally gave up, when he threw the towel in and allow himself to be vulnerable for the first time in years, the Uchiha’s rough lips were suddenly on his own and suddenly his surroundings, his worries, his fears were gone and replaced with warm comfort.

Their relationship became one of truth and openness from that moment forward, the two of them doing their best to establish a balance between themselves, and unknowingly fell in love along the way. By the time the primary building of Konoha had been completed and their wedding date arrived, Tobirama could confidently (and quite fondly, though no one needed to know this at the time) state that he loved Madara Uchiha. As they exchanged their vows before the clans of the village, with Izuna smirking that ugly smirk of his and Hashirama in tears as his poor wife comforted the weeping fool (“He is taking Tobi away from me Mito!”, “Tobirama is not yours beloved, he is a grown man.”) Tobirama gazed at his husband to be with honest hope and heated cheeks. His heart sweetly ached at hearing Madara say “I do”, at knowing without a doubt in his mind that he was now Madara’s and Madara was his, that he had someone in which he could wholly confide his secrets and feelings in, and Tobirama knew he had been blessed well the moment their lips joined, sealing their marital union as those around them cheered and sobbed in the case of his anija. Their marriage, while lovely, of course experienced its own bumps here and there, particularly on matters of legislation and equality within the village, but Tobirama wouldn’t trade it away for the world because a world without Madara at his side was not worth living in.

Yet, as he stared at the white stick resting within his shaking hands, Tobirama feared that the world they had made was going to shatter at any second. Two lines of crimson glared at him with undenying truth, the feeling of an extra, new source of chakra nestled within his own person only confirming the results within his grasp. He had been born as an anomaly not only in appearance but in anatomicalities as well; the midwife had nearly passed out when she caught sight of not only albinism but his newborn self having both male and female genitalia and his father’s reaction hadn’t been much kinder. Few people knew of his condition and those who did typically accepted him no matter his abnormalities, Madara being no exception to that, and as he found himself happily married and being tasked with teaching the up and coming generation, the Senju found the yearning to have children of his own grow with each hair ruffle.

Tobirama knew the likelihood of someone with his condition, rare as it was, being able to carry a child let only father one and had unhappily accepted that he would never be able to have a child of both his and Madara’s making. With this truth in mind, the two of them still practiced safe sex and were content with the moments of parenthood being a mentor allowed them, never feeling compelled to strive for anything more; well, at least, Madara hadn’t shown any interest of having children of their own. Even with their vigilance and cautiousness, they ended slipping up here and there, having drunk too much sake or simply enjoyed feeling one another intimately, flesh to flesh, and now here Tobirama was, standing alone in their shared bathroom, two seconds from imploding as he internally panicked. How could this have happened? They had been so careful! What was Madara going to think?!

Silent, unshed tears threatened to fall down his pale features, the gravity of the situation at hand weighing down on him without any restraint. Madara and he were busy with their village and clan duties, with Tobirama being the advisor to his idiot brother who had been elected hokage somehow, along with being the Uchiha matriarch, and Madara acting as his other advisor and clan head. They had already been married for two years and were financially and emotionally stable as two shinobi could be and would have no trouble affording the costs that came along with having a child. No, Tobirama worried over whether this pregnancy was even viable and if Madara would want the child growing within him. The two of them were happy and content with their childless life, what if Madara only wanted that? He couldn’t give up his child so easily, the chance of having one in itself was a miracle, but he could never imagine living a life without his dark haired Uchiha. This secret was going to be the literal death of him.

*Knock knock*

Soft knocks from the bathroom doorway ripped Tobirama away from his heavy thoughts, the Senju hurried tucking the test into the pocket of his training pants, calling out swiftly, “Enter!”

He was thoroughly relieved when the calm personage of his sister-in-law appeared in the doorway, a look of caution and soft worry conflicting with her beautiful features as she stepped forward, sliding the door closed behind her.

Comforting pools of inky black washed over his form, the Uzumaki princess coming to kneel beside him, “No one saw me enter. It is just us.”

Relief flooded his system once more, a shaky sigh escaping the albino as he ran a hand through his hair for probably the millionth time in that hour alone, “Thank the gods.”

“If I may ask, what is this sudden need for secrecy Tobirama,” Mito questioned calmly, gazing at him with searching eyes. “Has something happened?”

Here goes nothing…

Slowly retrieving the test hidden within his pants pocket, Tobirama shakily deposited it into his sister-in-law’s hands, and if the situation had been different, Tobirama would have revelled in being able to shake Mito into a state of shock as she was now.

The Uzumaki’s now avid attention shifted from the positive pregnancy test to Tobirama, the redhead murmuring with caution, “Are you certain?”

He gave her a weak nod, his nerves growing with each second. “I can sense another source of chakra developing within me. Its size fits with the time frame of the last time Madara and I slept together without protection eight weeks ago.”

“Does Madara know of this,” Mito replied, face growing stoic once more. His lack of an answer had his brother’s wife sighing, placing the test back within Tobirama’s grip, “I see. I figure this pregnancy was neither planned nor expected.”

Tobirama did his best to reign in his fluctuating emotions, the sensor squeezing his eyes shut, “I presumed having a child of our own would never be a reality, considering our circumstances. We have never discussed having children, Mito; what if he does not want to be a father? I-I cannot just dispose of it.”

Mito shifted her form, a comforting hand coming to rest on his shoulder, “While I cannot speak entirely on your husband’s behalf, Tobirama, I know I can say that he would be over the moon to hear you are with child. Madara treasures the clan children, why would he not adore having his own?”

Both he and Madara treasured the children within the Uchiha clan, spending large amounts of time assisting fellow clan members by babysitting their spawn or teaching them various jutsus. Tobirama had often found himself imagining the dark haired children that often swarmed his husband were their children, excited to see their father after a long day. A reality he never thought possible until now.

Pools of wine, shakened with doubt and worry, came to fall upon Mito’s face of comfort and dignity, “How do I even go about telling him? What if he assumes the child is not his?”

She squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, voice smooth as water and warm as midday sun, “He would have to be stupider than he is now to conclude the child within you is the product of adulterous actions, brother. You simply need to be honest with him, just as you always have been; keeping this secret will only complicate things more.”

“Tobirama, I’m home!”

No, no, no, he wasn’t ready, he-!

It was only Mito’s touch that kept Tobirama grounded in that moment of panic, the Uzumaki stating with confidence, “Some things cannot be kept secret Tobirama. Tell him.”

“Tobirama? Is everything alright -?”

Madara’s familiar figure appeared in the bathroom doorway, the Uchiha’s already concerned face only intensifying as he stopped mid sentence, coming to kneel beside Tobirama with worry, “What has happened?”

Standing to her feet with grace, whilst knocking the pregnancy test out of view, Mito greeted the Uchiha clan head with a small smile, “Nothing that will not right itself in time, my friend. Now please excuse me, I promised my husband of mine that I would have his favorite dish prepared for him before he returns.”

Her gaze shifted to Tobirama with skillful ease, stating calmly, “Have faith Tobirama, all will be well.”

With that, the Uzumaki was gone, and the two men were left to themselves, an awkward silence quickly enveloping their persons due to her absence.

It was Madara who spoke first, the Uchiha taking Tobirama’s bare hand in his gloved one, “Are you alright Tobirama?”

Was he alright? He was eight weeks pregnant with a child he was not even sure had been possible until his discovery, one he was not certain that his husband would want. The Senju had numerous duties to fulfill not just as the advisor to the Hokage and as clan matriarch but also as a sensei to his students; he would not be able to assist them in learning for the following months until the child’s subsequent arrival.

Tobirama swallowed the fear attempting to slither up his throat, hand tightening around Madara’s, “Promise me that you will listen to what I have to say before releasing your judgement Madara.”

“What is going? Tobirama-!”

Steeling himself, Tobirama gave his husband a stern glare, “Promise me.”

Madara shifted uneasily in his position beside Tobirama, answering reluctantly, “I promise to listen.”

An agitated sigh left the sensor, Tobirama doing his best to gather his thoughts, “As you know, I have been experiencing fatigue and bouts of sickness these past few weeks. To better understand the reasons behind my condition, I conducted various tests on myself and whilst running these tests, came across a foreign entity within myself.”

His husband stiffened and moved to speak but Tobirama cut him off before a sound could escape him, “Worried that it was unnatural, I began to run more in depth tests to better understand the origin of this foreign entity.”

“In the end, with my symptoms in mind, I conducted a final test to confirm my suspicions. The results have me anxious about your reaction, because it is something I did not think possible of occurring.”

The clan head gazed at him with wariness, fear present in those beautiful pools of midnight black that Tobirama loves to peer into for hours on end, but Madara’s voice is strong with determination, “Whatever it is Tobirama, we will face it together! Hell, that idiot brother of yours will do everything in his power to fix it!”

A frown formed on Tobirama’s face, the sensor retorting quietly, “This is not something that can be healed Madara-.”

“It cannot hurt to at least try,” Madara shouted, his other hand coming to cup Tobirama’s left cheek. “I refuse to let you die laying down you foolish Senju-!”

Chuckling wetly, tears of anxiety and cautious joy blurred his vision, “I am not dying you Uchiha idiot.”

Confliction of relief and confusion waged on Madara’s personage, “You are not? But you said it was unfixable-!”

Tobirama was quick to cut him off, giving the fiery man a firm look, “If you had let me finish before rudely interrupting me, I was going to tell you that the condition I am in cannot be healed but it will fix itself on its own in seven months time you blockhead!”

Black eyes searched his person, clearly scrambling for answers, and the albino groaned in annoyance, “I swear, you can be as dense as my brother at times! I am trying to tell you that I am pregnant, you imbecile!”

Oh kami, what had he done?

Madara froze in his spot beside Tobirama, staring at him with undetectable emotion, and the sensor instantly was sent into a panic at his reaction, “I know we have never officially discussed having children and I know having a child right now while the village is still so young and with us being so busy is not logical but I want to have this child and I will raise it with or without your approval-!”

Rough lips smothering his own cut him off mid-rant, fiery passion burning brightly in the act of intimacy as his husband’s other hand came to cup his right cheek, and after a few moments of quiet, Madara pulled away, joy shining brightly in his tear-blurred eyes, “How could you ever think that I would not want to have a child with the man I love?”

With that, Tobirama fell apart, silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he timidly replied, “A normal man could never do this.“

“Who said I wanted a normal man,” Madara firmly questioned, eyes stern and passionate. “I married a man who is a genius shinobi in his own right, who also happens to have a condition that has gifted us with a chance to have a child of our own flesh when so many others couples dream of such an opportunity!”

“You are not upset,” Tobirama whispered cautiously.

Madara gave him a shining smile and kissed him once more, tears of his own running down his face as his right hand came to rest on the albino’s flat stomach, “I could never be upset over something like this Tobirama. A child is a gift from the gods; I only pray it has your beautiful mind.”

The Senju stifled a sob at the Uchiha’s confession and Madara rested his forehead against Tobirama’s, allowing him to give his husband soft, comforting kisses.

After a few moments, Tobirama was able to reign himself in, giving Madara a small grin, “Hashirama and Izuna are going to be complete nightmares once they learn I am expecting.”

Scoffing, Madara pulled away, though he didn’t move his hand resting on Tobirama’s abdomen, “Those two buffoons are already nightmares in general. All hell will break loose once they hear they will be receiving a niece or nephew within the year.”

A comfortable silence filled the area for a few minutes before Tobirama spoke once more, “I asked that we do not let anyone know of the baby until at least the twelfth week mark, Mito aside of course; I do not want to get anyone excited in case I happen to miscarry.”

“You are not going to miscarry anything,” Madara stated confidently, moving Tobirama to rest his back against his chest whilst other hand came to join his right one. “But I understand your reasoning and agree to wait until you are ready to share this news.”

Tobirama turned his head to look at his husband, murmuring lovingly, “Thank you Madara.”

His husband pecked his lips, replying fondly, “Anything for you, my husband.”

Some secrets were better worth sharing after all.

#madara x tobirama #tobirama senju #team tobirama #headcanon #uchiha madara #senju hashirama #uzumaki mito #naruto #arranged marriage #angst #intersex #fluff #minor character death #izuna uchiha #toka senju #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines

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herstarburststories · 3 years

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Calamitous Love

Paring: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.

A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily

Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.

The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.

Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.

Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.

You surprised him once again.

You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.

Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.

‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’

And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam.

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration.

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas.

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Don’t shout.

summary: Harry doesn't know what to do after he lied to Y/N.

word count: 1.7k

based on these requests:

"fuck i didn’t mean to send that haha okay for ‘shy little boy’ can u do something where yn and harry fight over him going to a girls house while on tour (but she’s a friend) when he gets back home yn ignores him bc she found out n stuff (the kid is not home i can’t remember his name srry) hope this makes sense"

and

"How about when Harry and y/n fight and Artemis thinks they are going to break up but he doesn't want Harry to leave him. I love you writing. Artemis is sooo cute uWu."

and

"hey idk if you’re taking requests but i was wondering if you could do one where you and harry get into an argument where he makes you cry and artemis sees and gets mad at harry and won’t talk to him until harry apologizes to you,, ty !!"

and

"where y/n and harry have there first big fight"

and

"For the my shy little boy series, could you do one where y/n and Harry fight about something and Artemis gets upset at one of them as well?"

a/n: had to change the requests a bit but i hoped they worked together!! I enjoy writing angst so i liked doing this one :)

you can find more of my shy little boy here

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Y/N was never one to pick up a fight. She was the type of person who preferred bottle up her feelings, most of the time. Usually she didn't have drama in her life aside from the occasional four-year-old tantrums and stuff, but then again she hasn't dated anyone in what felt like years. And she has never dated a famous person before, so every day she learned something new.

Like how trust is the most fundamental part of a relationship. She couldn't believe every little thing that was put in the internet about him, as eighty percent of it was all fake information. So she always trusted Harry and waited for his side of things before jumping to any conclusions.

However, this time, she couldn't do that. Not when dozens of pictures of him leaving one of his ex-girlfriend's house with the same clothes from the day before where all over the internet. She couldn't care less about that part, to be honest. What she was hurt about was the fact that Harry told her he was at his hotel and wasn't going to go out that night.

She knew Harry had friends, a lot of them were women. And she was no one to tell him who he could and could not hang out with. What she felt betrayed about was that he lied about it.

Now, Y/N considered herself a very mature person. But this time she allowed to feel angry and ignored every call of Harry's, not being in the mood to talk to him after she saw those pictures.

When he was back to London, he already had figured what was the problem. And he couldn't blame Y/N for ignoring him either, so as soon as he landed, Harry went straight to Y/N's home, determined to give her an explanation.

Y/N opened the door, raising an eyebrow at him but let him in anyway. She turned around and walked to the kitchen, completely ignoring him. Harry closed the door behind him and followed her, knowing her silence was anything but a good sign.

"Where's Artemis?" He asked softly, trying to make small conversation.

"His room." She murmured, raising a glass of water up to her mouth to drink from it.

"Are you mad at me?" He already knew the answer, but he didn't know how to bring up the subject. All he received was a bitter laugh from her. "I'm sorry..."

"For what? Because you lied to me or because you got caught?"

"Caught? Nothing happened, Y/N."

"Then why did you lied to me?!" She almost slammed the glass on the kitchen island, growing really angry. "Why you didn't tell me you were with her?"

"I didn't want you to be mad." He murmured, like a little kid who was being scolded.

"And how do you think i am right now? Uh?" Crossing her arms over her chest, Y/N stared at him. "I trust you, Harry. Every day, all the time. All i ever ask from you is honesty. What happens when i can't even get that?"

Harry panicked for a second, not knowing if she was going to break up with him over this. "Please, tell me how i can make it better."

"Start with telling me why you lied." She demanded. "And don't say because you didn't want to upset me because i'm not buying that. I called you the night before those pictures were taken. You told me you were at your hotel room, was that even true?"

He nodded furiously. "I was at my room when i called you. I swear."

"You told me you were gonna take a shower then you'd call again to wish Artemis a good night, but you never did. Harry, i called you, three times and you didn't answer. Here i was thinking you were so tired of working you fell asleep when in reality you were at you ex's house doing god knows what!" A single tear rolled down her left eye, breaking Harry's heart.

"She called me. She had broken up with her boyfriend and needed a friend." He said. "We drank a little, that's why i couldn't drive back to the hotel. I slept in her couch. Nothing happened, baby, you have to believe me."

"I'm not worried about you cheating, Harry. I worry about you lying to me. How can i trust you if you don't tell me the truth?" More tears fell from her eyes. "I don't want to be that type of girlfriend, but i thought we could tell each other everything."

"And we can, god, we can. I'm sorry, so sorry, baby."

"Were you still going to tell me even if those pictures didn't come out?" She asked. Her lip was trembling as she waited for him to answer, however, Harry stayed silent. "That's what i thought."

She tried to walk out of the kitchen, but Harry wrapped his hand around her wrist gently, stopping her from leaving. But Y/N was too hurt right now to react properly, so she snapped. "Don't!"

"Mummy?" A much smaller, scared voice was heard, making both adults swallow hard. "Why are you crying?" Artemis was confused when he saw the tears on his mother' face, but then his eyes landed on Harry. Under any other circumstances, he'd jump on his arms, excited he was back home. But he was quick to put two and two together, and he instantly blamed Harry for his mummy's tears. So he furrowed, stepping in front of Y/N to take a good look at her.

"Hey, baby. Were you there long?" Y/N asked him, running a hand through his soft curls. Artemis shook his head. He didn't heard much, and what he heard he didn't understand. Just that his mum was shouting and Harry was apologizing for something. "Let's go back to your room, okay?"

She took his hand and guided him back to his room, staying with him for a little bit to show him she was okay. She knew Harry wouldn't leave, especially not after a fight, but she wasn’t sure she could keep fighting with him once she came out.

Harry made the decision to make lunch for them, hoping Y/N would be willing to talk to him. He knew Artemis was now mad at him too, and Harry felt so bad for upsetting his two loves. God only knows how protective Artemis is of his mum.

He didn’t even know why he couldn’t answer Y/N’s last question. He didn’t think paparazzi would take pictures of him entering and exiting his ex-girlfriend’s house, or that Y/N would react in that way. But he also understood how bad it looked from her perspective.

“You’re still here.” He heard her voice from behind.

“I’d never leave while we’re like this.” Harry turned to look at her, furrowing when he saw her red eyes. “I never meant to upset you.” She nodded, staying quiet. “I know how the world makes it look every time I’m out with someone from the opposite sex, I’ve been targeted as the biggest player for that.”

“Those things are not true.”

“And you know that. But… in my past relationships, they didn’t believe me. They’d automatically assume the worst, that’s why I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want the opinion you have of me to change. I’m truly sorry.”

Y/N sighed. She looked at him in the eye and could see how vulnerable Harry was allowing himself to be right now, how honest and regretful his eyes looked.

“You’re a good friend, and a good boyfriend. That’s what I think of you. Harry, you don’t have to lie or hide things from me. I know nothing happened, I trust you in that. Just, please, be honest with me. I don’t want to find out of things when there’s already millions of pictures online, I want to hear the truth from you so we can save arguments like these.”

Harry nodded furiously, again. “I promise, it won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” She stated. Harry walked towards her and pulled her for a tight hug, squeezing her close to his chest and sighing in relief. “But Artemis is kind of upset too.”

“I should go apologize to him too. We shouldn’t have been fighting with him in the house.”

“Go talk to him, I’ll finish this.” She pointed at the almost done meal Harry was cooking.

He obeyed, making his way towards the little boy’s room. The door wasn’t entire closed but he still knocked before entering. “Hey.” He said softly, but Artemis didn’t answer. “I’m sorry you heard that, monkey.”

“You made my mummy cry.” He stated, crossing his little arms across his chest, looking exactly like Y/N while doing it. “You have to apologize.”

“I already did, kiddo. Mummy and I have talked, now I want to say sorry to you, for upsetting you.” Harry knelt in front of him.

“Are you gonna leave?” He said, his mood drastically changed as his eyes filled with tears.

Harry was confused by the question, but was quick to assure him. “Of course not. Everything’s fine, monkey. Adults fight sometimes, but I’m not gonna leave, ever.”

“That’s what my teacher told Susie but her dad doesn’t live with her anymore.” He rubbed his eyes with his little fists, whipping his tears.

“But that’s not us, Artemis. I’m here, do you see? I’m never gonna leave you or your mummy.”

“Promise?” Artemis offered him his right pinky and Harry wrapped his much bigger one around it without hesitation.

“You have my word.”

They hugged, Artemis wrapped his little arms around his neck, applying a little pressure as he was still afraid Harry would leave him. But in response, Harry just squeezed him closer to him. He sat on the floor with Artemis on his lap, letting him calm down as he cooed at him.

“I love you.” Harry barely heard the words, as Artemis spoke above a whisper, still pressed to Harry’s tattooed chest.

But he still heard. And he couldn’t help the dimpled smile from appearing on his face. He loved this boy more than he could ever begin to describe, and the reassurance that the feeling was mutual was always something Harry loved to hear.

He kissed the top of his head, brushing some blonde curls out of his small face so he could look directly at his hazel eyes. “Not as much as I love you.”

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

taglist!!

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#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #dad!harry #stepdad!harry #harry styles fanfiction

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useyourbrainsmorons · 3 years

Text

Warmth

Zuko X Earthbender!Reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, maybe a little angst

Summary: Zuko’s wife is cold. Like, all the time. Luckily, Zuko is a firebender. And he makes the perfect cuddle buddy.

Word Count: 1019

Sleeping with the Fire Lord had its perks. For instance, he always seemed to be radiating a pleasant warmth, which made even the coldest of winter nights bearable. This, to Aria, who seemed to have the worst circulation in the world, was certainly a blessing. It seemed as if Zuko would never fail to be surprised at how cold his wife’s hands would be. He grew so accustomed to warming her face and hands with a little fire bending that sometimes he even did it in his sleep.

Sometimes Aria was awake for this, and she always thought she might die from the cuteness of it. She’d never told him, but her heart melted every time Zuko took the time to make sure she was warm. This also meant that her spot as the little spoon was fairly well established, and she didn’t think there could be a more comforting feeling than being wrapped up in Zuko’s arms like that.

It was comical how the strong and intimidating duo, when in private, became the softest, cutest, and most loving pair one would ever see. It was often that that the only time the couple really had together was at night, Aria’s body curled up beside Zuko’s. It just so happened, that for the past couple weeks, this had been exactly the case.

Both had been so busy with royal duties, Zuko with his regular meetings and duties at the palace, and Aria having to go on multiple ambassador missions to continue the spread of peace within the nation. Aria returned to their chambers that night, especially exhausted after meetings that day. There had been many arguments, the people being stubborn and unwilling to show her respect, due to her status of being a peasant girl from the Earth kingdom. Even now that she was the official Fire Lady, many of the Fire Nation subjects looked down upon her.

With a heavy sigh, she let down her hair as she remembered the last time she had told Zuko of her problem.

“What? They can’t treat you like that! I’ll speak to them,” he proclaimed, the fire alight in his eyes.

“No, Zuko,” said Aria gently, placing a calming hand on his forearm. “I don’t think I will gain any respect form the nobles if you reprimand them, I’ll just have to work at it myself.”

Too exhausted to think about it any further, Aria flopped down on her side of the bed to get what little sleep she could get at the late hour. Zuko mumbled in his sleep, tossing a little as Aria got situated in bed.

“Go back to sleep, love,” she murmured, brushing her hand gently through his hair. Zuko quickly settled back down, but not before putting an arm around Aria’s waist. The small action made her smile as she drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the darkest, coldest part of the night when Aria awoke. Violently, she sat upright and flung the blankets off of her. A strangled cry escaped from her as she curled up in a ball. She’d never felt so cold in her life, and she began to shiver uncontrollably.

There was a stirring next to her, and Zuko, voice raspy and sleepy, spoke up. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, still too upset.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He reached out to touch her, and instantly recoiled. “Spirits, you’re freezing!” he exclaimed.

He began to warm up his hands to place on her, and when he touched her again, she melted into his embrace, clutching to him for dear life. He could practically feel her heart beating through her chest, and he reached up to stroke her hair. “It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Zuko said calmly, knowing she was frightened.

All Aria did in response was burrow further into his arms as she whimpered softly. She could feel herself starting to warm back up from the heat Zuko was emanating.

“Tell me about your dream,” Zuko requested. He began to rub small circles into Aria’s back.

She shuddered. “Everything was normal, I was with you and all our friends, until… a giant wave of flame and destruction rose from the horizon, and it just… kept heading towards us, and I had to watch everyone die, even you. But I was left behind, all alone, the world destroyed, cold and desolate, and it felt like I wandered for ages, getting colder and colder as I shouted your name. But there was nothing,” she finished. Aria began to shake again, remembering how it felt in her dream. “It was like slowly freezing to death, all alone,” she whispered.

Zuko’s heart ached. He sometimes had dreams of losing Aria and others that he loved, but nothing quite as bad as the sounded. He squeezed her a little tighter. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful,” he murmured in her ear.

Aria let out a loud sigh as she relaxed in his grip. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” she said, sounding exhausted.

Zuko gently tugged her down so that they were lying down again. He suddenly realized this was probably the most interaction they’d had with each other in about a week. He looked down at her as best he could, her head nuzzled into his chest. He brushed a hand over her head as she sighed contentedly. “I think maybe we need a vacation,” he said quietly.

Aria shifted slightly to curl further into Zuko’s body. “Mmmm, that sounds nice,” she agreed, trying to fight the urge to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, with the way Zuko was running his fingers through her hair, it was very difficult.

“I’ll try to arrange something tomorrow. We can go to Ember Island for a few days,” he suggested.

Aria nodded slightly. “Yes please.”

They laid together in silence for a while. Just as Aria was about to fall asleep, she muttered quietly, “I love you, Zuko. You’re the best heat-warmer ever.”

And if Aria had still been awake, she could’ve seen the intense blush that had settled upon Zuko’s face.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla #zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #zuko x oc #fluff #earthbender #fire nation #avatar x reader #zuko avatar

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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years

Text

What’s going on with you? (Bucky x reader)

What is going on with you?

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2633

Warnings: Purging, restricting, depression, anxiety

Summary: the reader is a part of the avengers, and has an eating disorder. It used to be worse, but whenever she feels like she makes a mistake r gets into an argument, she slips up. Bucky discovers this one day and tries to help her.

A/N: It has BEEN A BIT. I am home for the semester, and therefore have much more time. I should be able to write more, but I don’t want to get overwhelmed. I’ll make a separate post about what happened. Take care of yourselves!

You stood up on shaky legs, leaning against the sink for support. Your heart was still racing and your head was pounding. You flushed the toilet and looked in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, tear-stained face, and sweat-slicked skin. You looked like you were sunburned and had just had an intense crying session. That or something much more likely.

You looked like you had just been throwing up. Which was the case.

You sighed as you turned on the water, cold. It helped with the redness. You washed your hands first, then cupped them to bring to your face. Ideally, you would shower, but you were too exhausted for that right now. Plus, you had a meeting to get to and this round of purging had taken longer than you had anticipated. Damn pasta nearly choked you on its way back up.

It was methodical. Wash your hands, then your face, make sure your eyes aren’t as bloodshot. Blow your nose 20 times, stick your face in a towel and sigh, take your hair down and make it look more presentable, like when you had come in. finally, when everything is presentable, spray the air freshener and practice your fake smile.

God, you hated this.

You tried to stop. It wasn’t like you enjoyed puking your guts out. But you felt like your say in the matter was long gone.

You either didn’t eat anything or ate and vomited everything.

Thankfully, no one had picked up on it yet.

You sighed again as you turned off the lights and exited the bathroom. You felt lighter and calmer, although your heart was still racing. Family dinner with the Avengers is always the worst. No excuses to miss, no reasons to not eat, therefore, you just had to take care of it after.

Usually, it wouldn’t have been too bad - you hadn’t eaten anything in days aside from a few apples. But you had fucked up. You were sparring in the gym with Natasha and you kept missing your mark. You were weaker, unable to focus.

God knows why.

Nonetheless, it was a horrible training session and you got your ass beat. Not just normal Natasha-Romanoff-beats-everyone beat, but if-this-was-real-you-would-have-killed-me beat.

Not that that was too undesirable at the moment.

See, usually, you were able to just get away with not eating without trying too hard. But whenever you made a mistake, you felt that urge. You wanted to just eat everything. You don’t know why or where it came from, but you just wanted to eat everything in sight. Just so you could barf it up along with all your negative feelings about yourself.

You had tried to get over your issues with food for so long and it never really worked out. You had gone to therapy and hospitals as a teenager and they would always give up on you. The hospital staff knew your name by looking at you, you were the revolving door patient. Any discharge and goodbye really meant see you at your next admission when you relapse in a few weeks.

It wasn’t really about you recovering. It was about keeping you alive until your next relapse.

It was better now. You used to be skin and bones, on the verge of dying. Then you started eating and vomiting your feelings. Now you were a healthy weight, no matter how much you tried to lose it. You missed being skin and bones. You wanted to get over this, but you wanted to be thin first.

You weren’t dying but you weren’t living either. Your eating disorder was better but still was the silent shadow on your life. The only difference was now no one saw it or asked about it. So when you went longer without eating or purged more times, no one noticed. Because no one realized there was something to notice.

You didn’t think it would get better so you stopped hoping it would. You stopped trying. You were an adult now, so you were free to make your own choices. No parents or therapists in your way.

You made it into the common area, where Steve and Bucky were waiting. There were a couple of empty chairs - one for you and one for Sam. you had a mission briefing, and since it was urgent you would be leaving tonight.

Great.

You sat down - well, you more fell into your chair - and leaned back and closed your eyes. Bucky, who sat next to you, turned your way slightly and laughed nervously.

“You okay there, doll?”

You opened your eyes and turned towards him. “Just a little tired I guess. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Bucky chuckled. “You and me both.” He laughed a little, but you knew it was a touchy subject. Nightmares would keep Bucky up for days on end, and the dark circles under his eyes right now told you this week had been relentless for him.

Steve, ever the one to care about his team, inquired, “Are you okay to do this mission y/n? I can get someone else if you need to -”

“I’m good Cap. Really, I’m fine.” you interrupted, sitting up and flashing a fake smile.

He smirked a little. “There you are.”

Bucky was a little less convinced. “You sure you’re -”

At that moment Sam burst in and sat down. Steve perked up. “Finally. Alright, everyone’s here, let’s start.”

You caught the first few things that Steve said but began to zone out. You couldn’t focus. You kept your eyes on the files in front of you, but it looked like an entirely different language to you. You pretended to read but your eyes just glossed over the pages and pictures. All you knew was it was a HYDRA base you were going to. But that was a given.

Bucky shook you out of your trance, only for you to realize everyone else had left. You looked at him and he furrowed his brows together. “You sure you’re alright? You totally spaced out.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I’m good, sorry. Just tired I guess!” you said lightly, hoping he didn’t hear the nerves in your voice. You stood up and your vision went black for a few moments, so you leaned on the chair with one hand.

Bucky was by your side in an instant. “I don’t think you’re fine. What’s going on?”

You shooed him off of you and flashed him another bright (fake) smile. “It happens all the time, I swear. It’s fine.” and before Bucky could protest you walked away to get ready to leave.

You knew you should eat something. You’d only kept down a few apples in the past few days. But you were doing so well, and you didn’t have time to purge should you eat too much. You felt like you were about to pass out though…..

You shook the thought out of your head. You had gone longer on less food doing more exercise before. You would be fine.

You put on your uniform and went to the roof to get into the quinjet. Bucky was there as well, Steve up at the front getting ready to pilot. Once again, you were waiting for Sam. no surprise there.

You flashed a small smile to Bucky, and he gave you one back, but you could see the concern on his face. Silence was all there was aside from Steve up at the front. After a few awkward minutes, Sam came jogging in, and with that, you were off.

“Shouldn’t take too long,” Steve called from the front. “It should just be a small base.”

*skip to the battlefield*

Boy, was Steve wrong.

You hadn’t known what to expect, but from what Steve said (and how everyone was fighting), it was well over double what they had anticipated. You were with Bucky and Sam was with Steve, everyone fighting HYDRA agents on all fronts. Luckily, they were taking all of the hits. For now.

As you were fighting, stars swam through your vision. You kept shaking your head trying to reorient yourself, but you were starting to get nervous. Your offensive and defensive moves were both delayed and weaker than usual. Bucky was covering your ass and both of you knew it.

When all fronts were secured Bucky turned to you, slightly angry but also concerned. “What the hell is going on with you?”

You were panting and your heart was racing. Widened your stance nonchalantly to try and regain some balance, and placed your hands on your hips. “I don’t know…..What you mean…” you said between breaths.

“You could’ve gotten us both killed! You’re lucky we didn’t all split up y/n. I don’t know what’s gotten into you!”

You swallowed thickly and blinked back the tears. You tried to speak again, but your mouth went dry and you couldn’t speak. You saw Bucky’s eyes widen as he saw your face go white. He reached his arms out just in time as your knees gave out and you were unconscious.

He didn’t hesitate to pick you up and carry you back to the quinjet. Over the coms, he said “Something’s wrong with y/n. I’m bringing her back to the quinjet.”

Steve immediately asked, “What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know but she’s unconscious.”

A pause.

“Stay with her, Sam and I will finish this.”

Bucky laid you down across a few seats and scanned your body for injuries. Maybe a HYDRA agent had sliced you somewhere he hadn’t seen. But he found nothing and didn’t know what to think. No injuries, just a racing heartbeat, a white face, and shallow breathing.

And he was fucking terrified.

He’d never said anything, but the super-soldier had quite the feelings for you. He was always too shy, feeling damaged, and like he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t want to hurt you but what he didn’t realize was you were hurting yourself more than he ever could.

And he still didn’t know.

You came to after a few minutes, disoriented. You looked around and your eyes fell on Bucky, who sighed in relief. You tried to sit up but Bucky gently but firmly pushed you back down.

“What happened?” you asked groggily

“You passed out y/n.” he deadpanned

Your eyes widened. Shit…

“Does that also happen ‘all the time?’ Or is there something else going on?” he asked firmly, still worried about you but you mistook it for anger.

You felt tears prick your eyes and your face heated up with shame and embarrassment. You put a hand over your face, hiding your eyes. “I’m fine, Buck,” you said, but your voice cracked and you knew you didn’t sound convincing at all.

“To hell you are! What the fuck is going on with you?” he nearly yelled, causing you to flinch. Bucky softened a little, and you started letting out small sobs, shoulders shaking. Bucky helped you sit up and pulled you into an embrace, hushing you and rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you kept mumbling and Bucky just held you tighter.

He was terrified. He had a feeling that something was wrong but he didn’t know it was something this bad. He didn’t even know what was wrong yet. “Please, y/n. Tell me what’s wrong. I just wanna help you.”

You shrugged. “No one can help me anymore.”

Bucky stiffened at your words, oh too familiar to his own thinking. But what could possibly have you feeling that way? You were the kindest person he had ever met. What could have you feeling so down? “Please tell me what’s going on y/n.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unable to find the words to say. “I just...Sometimes I….and it’s just hard…..I don’t know what…” you exhaled, unable to form a coherent thought. After taking a few deep breaths, you closed your eyes and tried again. “I throw up sometimes.”

Bucky pulled back and looked you in the eyes with concern. “Are you sick? Why didn’t you say something, we could have brought you to medical -”

“It’s not like that Buck.” you cut him off and looked to the side. “Not exactly.”

He furrowed his brows and cocked his head. Why would you be throwing up if you weren’t sick?

You took another deep breath. “It’s a long story, and it’s depressing and I’m sorry. It’s just...I hate myself and I just need to lose weight and I’ve done this my whole life and I try to be healthy and sometimes I don’t eat for days and then I eat and I can’t stop and then I hate myself more and then I just need to get rid of it and I throw up and I can’t stop and ithurtstobadijustneedittostop-”

“Hey hey, breath…” Bucky said as he pulled you in, and you realized how you were hyperventilating. You tried to calm down and focus on Bucky’s heartbeat, trying to follow his forced deep breathing patterns. After a few minutes you felt yourself calming down. Still locked in his embrace, Bucky began to ask questions softly.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since I was a teenager.”

“Why did it start?”

“‘Dunno.”

Some silence passed between you.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Silence.

You sighed. “Technically a few hours ago, but I didn’t keep it down.” you said softly. “Before that an apple a couple days ago.”

You felt him inhale sharply and swallow, wrapping his hands around you a little tighter. “Y/n…”

“I know, I try to stop I really do but it’s so hard.” you said, voice cracking and fresh tears filling your eyes.

More silence passed between the two of you. Eventually Bucky took a deep breath before asking, “Can I try and help you?”

You let out a dry laugh. “I’ve tried getting help for years Buck… It never really sticks. It never gets better. I stopped hoping that it would.”

Bucky’s heart shattered. He’d never seen you so defeated before. And it scared him how much you sounded like his own thoughts surrounding his nightmares. “It can always get better doll. Please don’t stop trying. Please, let me help you. Talk to me, talk to any of us...But you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You passed out y/n, and it could get a lot worse...I can’t watch you do that to yourself. I care to much about you. We all do.”

You looked up at him. “You sure you wanna get involved in this? I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He smiled back at you. “You could never disappoint me with this. You’re trying your best, that’s all I can ask for.”

You smiled a little, still skeptical but nodded anyways. Maybe he really could help you. Maybe things could get better.

And it was hard. There were days you slipped up, days you broke dishes, snapped at Bucky, locked yourself in your room, and found yourself bent over the toilet again. But there were also days that you couldn’t stop laughing, you enjoyed movie nights with the team, and family dinners weren’t so hard. It was a long journey, but that was exactly it - there wasn’t a destination. It was all a process. One that you had help with now. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything.

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