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bloody-bee-tea · 2 months

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IntiMarch 2024 Day 7 - Change it up

The prompt for this was "I want to show you something"

Suguru learned to be okay with his life—for the most part—but sometimes he really fucking hates it. Hates his technique and his body and is weakness and lately, he most of all hates the fact that he wants to have Satoru around all the time because that only makes the other things worse.

Satoru is in perfect control of his techniques, after everything that happened with Toji and Riko, and he’s not shy to boast about it, too.

Which only makes Suguru feel even more inadequate because he barely has a grasp on his technique and most definitely no control at all, as the spikes showing up in random places on his body are currently proving.

It’s the reason he’s always wearing such baggy clothes; he never knows which features of a curse will show up on him after he swallowed it but like this most of them can be hidden away without anyone around him being any wiser.

And this is where the Satoru problem comes in.

Satoru is handsy and clingy and doesn’t hesitate to hang himself off Suguru every chance he gets. Which is usually fine, Suguru doesn’t mind it at all—likes it maybe a little bit too much—but right now there’s a very real danger that Satoru might try to drape his arm over Suguru’s shoulder and be stung by a goddamn spike for his troubles.

And then he’d find out that Suguru has basically no control over his technique and is basically a walking monster to boot.

“Yo, Suguru!” Satoru calls out, quickly catching up to Suguru and Suguru just knows that he’s going to jump on his back the moment he’s in reach.

He’d welcome that usually—even though he would complain, just to keep pretences up—but the spikes are still shifting over his skin and the curse is churning in his stomach and Suguru cannot let Satoru find out about this.

So he stops and turns around to him, effectively halting Satoru’s momentum.

“What?” he asks, more annoyed than he really wants to be but he’s upset and he feels sick to his stomach and he just wants to go home.

Or pull Satoru close to his side and that is most definitely something he can’t do right now.

His annoyance puts a damper on Satoru’s mood, because he slows down before he comes to a stop almost an arm length away from Suguru and it seems it stole the words right out of Satoru’s mouth, too, because he doesn’t actually say anything.

“Let’s just go home, please,” Suguru finally says when it becomes clear that Satoru is not going to say anything and he pretends he doesn’t see the way Satoru’s face falls at his words.

“Fine,” is Satoru’s lacklustre answer and Suguru feels bad for all of a second, because that is when a spike shows up on his neck, high enough that his uniform doesn’t hide it.

Thankfully it’s not on the side where Satoru is walking but Suguru breaks out into cold sweat anyway.

For some reason the features of the curses don’t usually show up so high on his body; his neck and face are mostly spared and for that Suguru is thankful. It would be hell to hide if things like the spikes would show up regularly where the entire world can see. He’d have to wear a facemask and a blindfold, and unlike Satoru, Suguru couldn’t pull it off.

“Are you—is everything okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Satoru asks when they are about halfway to the subway and Suguru shrugs.

“No, it’s just—the curse,” he vaguely says, unwilling to go deeper into it, but just as unwilling to completely lie to Satoru about this. Satoru at least knows that the curses usually make him sick, because throwing up on a regular basis is really hard to hide, and in moments like this, Suguru is thankful for that because Satoru understands without asking further.

“You want to hang out later? Watch a movie or something?” Satoru asks and Suguru winces.

The curse has been at it for at last half an hour now; experience has shown that it won’t quiet down for at least another hour if it’s already been going that long.

Suguru’s silence must have been too long because Satoru forces a smile on his face.

“Or not, never mind,” he says, trying to sound flippant, as if he doesn’t care at all, but Suguru knows him better than that.

He knows that Satoru cares and he knows that he’s hurting him whenever he brushes him off like this but Suguru can’t help it.

Satoru is going to be so fucking grossed out when he finds out and he probably won’t want to have anything to do with Suguru afterwards. He keeps reiterating that they are the strongest, but Suguru isn’t even strong enough to handle the curses he swallows; surely Satoru will be disappointed on top of everything else after he finds out.

And Suguru is in no rush to have that happen.

“I really don’t feel so good,” Suguru finally says, desperately trying for a compromise, anything to wipe that fake look off Satoru’s face. “Can I decide when we’re back at the school?”

The train ride should give him at least another forty minutes. If he can also manage to talk Satoru into taking a shower when they arrive, he should be safe.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Satoru mutters and despite everything Suguru leans in, quickly, to press their shoulders together.

“I’m sorry,” he softly says and Satoru deflates.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t always be so pushy after a mission,” Satoru gives back and flashes Suguru a quick smile, a real one this time. “But it just—ending a day like this alone in my room sucks. I’d rather have you around.”

It warms Suguru from head to toe to hear that and he is about to lean in again when spikes break out almost all over his body.

He rocks back on his feet, praying to all the deities he knows that nothing is visible through his clothes, but of course Satoru noticed the aborted movement and a frown mars his perfect face again.

And Suguru hates himself for putting it there in the first place.

~*~*~

Suguru weighs the orb in his hand carefully. He dreads swallowing it, even though the abilities of that curse will be useful in the future. But the immediate aftermath of him absorbing the curse is going to be a whole fucking nightmare.

The curse practically only consisted of maws and Suguru doesn’t need to be a genius to know that they will show up all over his body.

He shudders just thinking about it, and he wonders if he’ll ever get used to the feeling of not being completely in control of his body, of not being able to keep his form stable.

It freaks him out more than he likes to admit and showering after a mission is sometimes so upsetting to him that he throws up, without any aid of the curse settling in his stomach.

“You gonna eat that?” Satoru carelessly asks with a nod to the orb still in Suguru’s hand and a flash of anger goes through Suguru, hot and white and entirely unfair.

It’s not Satoru’s fault Suguru’s technique fucks with him so much. And it’s definitely not his fault that Suguru keeps this particular part of his technique a secret.

“Don’t feel like it right now,” Suguru gives back, pocketing the curse for later, but Satoru must have noticed that something is off because he gives Suguru an apologetic smile.

“Wanna catch up on that show we were watching?” he asks, shuffling his feet and Suguru opens his mouth to say yes, because he does want to do that, but the orb in his pocket feels as if its burning straight through the fabric.

Suguru knows that he’s not going to be able to concentrate on anything before he gets this over with but that also means that he needs to stay locked up in his room for at least the next two hours.

“Not today,” he gives back, trying to sound not as snappish as he feels but when Satoru works his jaw, he knows that he failed.

“Yeah, right, because you never do feel like doing stuff with me anymore,” Satoru snaps at him and Suguru would love to argue that point but the thing is—Satoru is right.

They are being sent almost exclusively on grade one or even special grade missions and those curses are so much harder to assimilate. The side effects of his technique last maybe ten to fifteen minutes with lower grade curses but the stronger they are, the longer they are warping Suguru’s body into something that isn’t his anymore.

And that also means he has to find more and more excuses for Satoru.

“That’s not true,” Suguru tries to argue, because he would love to spend the rest of the day with Satoru, curled up on his stupidly comfortable couch and trash talk whatever is on the TV but he can’t do that.

Not today.

Probably never again right after a mission and just the thought makes Suguru’s eyes burn.

“Right. I see how eager you are to get away from me, Suguru, there’s no need to lie about it. Fuck, if you don’t want me around, just tell me to fuck off, it would be easier than this—this stupid limbo where I always hope you’re going to say yes.”

Satoru is breathing hard by the end of his little tirade and he’s just as angry as he’s hurt, Suguru knows him well enough to be able to tell that, but there is nothing he can say in his defence.

He does want to spend time with Satoru, but he can’t say that without having to explain why he sometimes can’t. So in the end, he stays quiet.

“Can’t even tell me that, huh?” Satoru eventually mutters, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I get it, Suguru, no need to pretend anymore. I’ll just—not be around anymore, I guess,” he dejectedly says, and walks away without giving Suguru a chance to reply.

He can do nothing but watch Satoru walk away, his shoulders drawn up so they almost touch his ears and he looked so upset that it breaks Suguru’s heart.

Suguru opens his mouth to call after him but closes it when he realises he doesn’t even know what to say.

It’s not until Suguru is safely back in his own room, the orb still in his hand, when he realises that he’s losing Satoru. He’s losing him without ever having told him the truth about his technique and this is what Suguru is afraid of, isn’t it? Losing Satoru.

But instead of losing him because Satoru thinks of him as weak or disgusting, he’s losing him because he’s being distant and evasive and that might even be worse.

Suguru never meant to push Satoru away like that, never meant to make Satoru turn away from him but it’s happening anyway.

And if it’s happening anyway, maybe it’s time he comes clean about his technique and his loss of control.

Mind made up, he walks over to Satoru’s room, but even though he’s resolved to do this now, he can’t help the shaking of his hands. He just hopes Satoru won’t notice.

He knocks and almost thinks Satoru isn’t there, that’s how long it takes him to come to the door.

“What?” Satoru bites out when he spots Suguru and Suguru’s heart falls when he sees how red-rimmed Satoru’s eyes are.

“Did you cry?” he blurts out, because he has never seen Satoru cry before and Suguru knows he made a mistake the moment Satoru’s face closes off.

“Get fucking lost,” Satoru hisses but when he’s about to slam the door shut, Suguru pushes his foot in.

“I want to show you something,” he says. “Please.”

“What the hell do you want to show me? How much you dislike my presence?” Satoru gives back, and he wants to sound angry, Suguru knows that, but it comes out shaky.

Suguru hates that he’s the cause of all of this.

“It has nothing to do with you,” Suguru whispers out and fights the urge to reach out to touch Satoru. It surely wouldn’t be welcome right now. “It’s all me. And after this—you might not want anything to do with me, anyway.”

That makes Satoru frown at him.

“Well, now I’m curious, so you better make it good,” Satoru finally says and opens the door again, much to Suguru’s relief.

It’s only short lived though, because now he has to go through with it. This is it. And it might still break whatever he has with Satoru.

“Can I—?” he motions towards Satoru’s room and after hesitating briefly, Satoru steps aside to let Suguru in.

“So, what is this mystery thing you want to show me?” Satoru asks once Suguru is inside his room and the door locked behind them again.

“I—” Suguru falters, because he didn’t really think this through, didn’t prepare how to break this to Satoru at all and now he’s at a loss. “It’s—”

The orb is still heavy in his pocket and Satoru is getting angrier by the second, Suguru can tell, so he needs to say something fast.

“I can’t control my technique,” is what he finally blurts out and then winces when Satoru narrows his eyes at him.

“So now you’re going to lie to me?” Satoru bites out and Suguru lets out a harsh breath.

“I’m not, it’s just—controlling the curses is just one part, right? When I absorb them, I don’t have any. Control, I mean. And they—” Suguru has never told anyone about this and he finds that it’s much harder than he feared it would be.

“They what?” Satoru finally prompts him and Suguru deflates where he stands.

“They change me. Temporarily, but still.”

“Change you how?” Satoru demands to know and he’s getting impatient, Suguru knows.

“It’s best I show you,” Suguru says, voice shaky. “And—I need to take off my shirt for that.”

“Right,” Satoru says, and his tone alone lets Suguru know just how much he doesn’t believe him.

Suguru doesn’t waste any more time though, he slips out of his shirt and then unceremoniously swallows the curse before he can change his mind again.

“And now what?” Satoru asks after a few seconds and Suguru is just about to tell him to fucking wait for a hot second when the first maw manifests on his stomach.

“And now this,” Suguru faintly says, and just the sight of the maw on his body, where none should be, is enough to make him want to crawl out of his own skin.

He hates this so much, hates how this makes him feel like a stranger in his own body, how it disconnects him in ways that shouldn’t be and he looks towards the ceiling when a second maw shows up, unable to stomach the sight anymore.

“Oh,” Satoru breathes out, and he takes a wary step back.

Suguru feels like crying. Of course Satoru would be disgusted.

“Are you turning into a curse?” Satoru warily asks, and Suguru notices the nervous flick of his fingers, as if he wants to form the finger sign for red and Suguru goes cold.

Satoru wanting to kill him for this hadn’t even factored into his fear but he realises now that that might have been stupid.

“No,” he still forces himself to say. “It’s just—it’ll be like this for an hour or so. The most prominent features of a curse will show up on me like that for a while after I ingest them, before they settle down. It’s not—I’m still me. Mostly,” he adds with a wince and Satoru relaxes.

“Does it hurt?” is the next thing he asks and Suguru mutely shakes his head.

He feels it, sure, but it doesn’t hurt; it’s barely even noticeable at all.

“Okay, then—what? Why were you so cagey about this?” Satoru asks and Suguru glares at him.

“This is—disgusting, Satoru, and creepy and all kinds of wrong. Why the hell would I want you to know about this?”

“It’s completely involuntary?” Satoru asks, finally stepping closer again. “Are they going to bite me if I touch them?”

“What?” Suguru incredulously asks because those words cannot have come out of Satoru’s mouth right now. “Why the hell would you want to touch them?”

“I don’t know. Can I though?” He looks at Suguru with a hopeful expression and in face of that much curiosity, Suguru can do nothing but nod.

Satoru carefully touches his fingers to a maw high on Suguru’s chest and he only gets bolder when it doesn’t move at all.

“So it’s just—the feature. You can’t do anything with it.”

“I’m not the one doing it, so of course not.”

“But can you?”

“Huh?”

“Can you make those features appear even after they have settled?” Satoru wants to know and Suguru blinks at him.

“Why the hell would I want to do that?”

“Well, I mean, these maws might not be helpful but if you can manifest a spike when a curse is trying to hit you, that might be good during a fight. But mostly—” he falls silent, biting at his lower lip in contemplation and Suguru grinds his teeth together.

“What, Satoru?”

“The curse last week, the one with the flowers,” Satoru slowly starts. “Could you like—make them appear in your hair? Like a flower crown?”

“What for?” Suguru wants to know because surely, that doesn’t have any kind of practical use.

Satoru shrugs.

“It would be pretty?”

“It would be—what?”

“Pretty,” Satoru repeats. “This curse, the one with the maws. It was such a vibrant purple. Can you make that your hair colour?” he wants to know and Suguru flinches.

“Don’t say that,” he bites out, because it’s hitting somewhere that hurts him, still, after all these years, but Satoru doesn’t seem to catch on.

“Then it would match your eyes, you know. They are such a nice purple, too.”

“Don’t talk about my eyes,” Suguru hisses out and turns away from Satoru, trying to hide his eyes, even though Satoru very well know what they look like.

“Suguru?” Satoru unsurely asks and he carefully places a hand on Suguru’s shoulder.

There’s a beat of silence before Satoru speaks again.

“Purple is not your eye colour,” he finally says and Suguru flinches again.

“It’s not,” he forces himself to say. “It’s—the first curse I ever swallowed had eyes like that. I never managed to change it back and now—I don’t remember what it was before.”

“I see,” Satoru whispers out and drapes himself over Suguru’s back, despite the fact that there’s at least one maw on there at the moment. “I’m sorry. For suggesting something like that at all.”

“I just don’t—why would you even say something like that. It’s disgusting.”

“The maws might not be pretty,” Satoru agrees but feathers his fingers over the one on Suguru’s chest despite his words. “But not all aspects of all curses are ugly. Remember that snake you wanted for it’s venom? It had such pretty, iridescent scales. They were glittering so much. I just think it would look amazing if you could dot them along your throat,” Satoru admits, trailing a finger over Suguru’s skin there.

“And I understand why you’re upset about your eyes but they really are pretty,” he then adds, much more quiet and Suguru slumps against him.

“You don’t mind?” he wants to know and he means the maws and his eyes and his inability to control any of it.

He just hopes Satoru understands.

“I don’t mind at all,” Satoru gives back and noses at Suguru’s cheek. “Is this—you were kind of giving me mixed signals for a while there,” Satoru whispers against his skin. “Is this okay?”

“I was afraid you’d turn away from me for this,” Suguru admits and leans into the contact. “I told you today, because you were turning away from me, just not for what I feared.”

Satoru hums at that.

“Should have blown up in your face sooner then,” he gives back and kisses Suguru’s cheek. “I like you, Suguru. I’m in love with you. Maws and all,” he cheekily adds and it’s enough to make Suguru laugh.

“I’m in love with you, too. Annoying brattiness included.”

“Hey,” Satoru complaints but still presses a kiss to Suguru’s cheek.

Or at least he means to when a maw shows up right there and Satoru rears back.

“No offense, but I don’t think I want to kiss that. Who knows where that has been.”

Satoru’s reaction still sent a thread of trepidation through Suguru but he forces it down. Satoru clearly doesn��t seem to mind too much and it’s more than valid to not want to kiss a curse maw. And besides—it gives Suguru an opening.

“Maybe it’s time you move on from my cheek then,” he says and turns around in Satoru’s arms, so their noses brush together.

“Maybe it is,” Satoru agrees and leans in the last bit, to finally claim Suguru’s lips in his.

It’s good; better than anything Suguru ever dared to daydream about and he never wants to stop. When Satoru moves back, he makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat.

“So about those flowers,” Satoru asks, carding his fingers through Suguru’s hair and undoing his bun in the process. “Think you can do it?”

Suguru sighs out and tips his forehead against Satoru’s.

“Can I just—this wasn’t easy, today, Satoru. Gimme a day and we can figure out what I can and can’t do, alright? Today I don’t really feel like it.”

“Fair,” Satoru immediately agrees and kisses Suguru again. “As long as you feel like doing this, it’s fine.”

Suguru would love to tell him just how much he’s feeling this, but he thinks showing Satoru might work just as well.

(He does figure out how to make flowers grow in his hair, how to make it purple and green and blue, almost like Satoru’s eyes, how to make glittering black scales show up dotted over his skin, encouraged by the way Satoru kisses love and pride and happiness into his skin whenever he manages to do it. It’s a good incentive to learn to wield his technique more effectively. And it helps for the admiring looks he gets from Satoru as well.)

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #getting together #geto suguru's technique #secrets #hurt/comfort #first kiss #mild body horror

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kaseyskat · 1 year

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i've been making my name in the dndads fandom as the shenanigans king but i have to inform yall that im very much a hurt/comfort writer and i love angst and i went through the entire henry oak tag on ao3 and decided there was Not Enough henry angst fics so here is uhhh something? that i might continue in a longer form on ao3 someday

the second the blade touches henry’s back, things go wrong.

there is a fog over lark’s mind. he doesn’t feel real anymore, even as sparrow – sweet, kind sparrow, who had chosen lark as he promised he’d do even though there is uncertainty in his eyes – sets up the scene, gives lark his opening. they had discussed this only briefly, but between the message spell lingering in his head and the anger burning beneath his skin, he knew that even without sparrow’s approval, he had to do this.

it wouldn’t hurt. it was a small blade, a knife taken from the kitchen, just big enough to draw blood. release the doodler, a voice whispers in his head as he guides the knife to his father’s back, the mockery of an embrace haunting him and taunting him even despite the fury that fuels his actions. this is your destiny.

he apologizes. of course he does; somewhere in the back of his head buried deep, deep down, he knows that this isn’t what he wants. however, unlike sparrow, lark is not built for compassion or love, and he feels nothing except for an unbridled sense of relief when he is allowed to bury the small knife between his father’s shoulders, mesmerized by the tear in henry’s clothing, the drops of blood that pool around the wound.

and this is where things go wrong.

sparrow, for all that he loves his brother, also carries a deep devotion to their father that lark will never reciprocate, and he frowns at the scene, at lark, before his eyes roll into the back of his head and he convulses with static, heaving. the same static burns in lark’s stomach, and he represses the feeling until he’s pulled away, satisfied with his work.

the blade, however, does not stop moving.

lark’s chest heaves with the effort of restraining himself, even as sparrow collapses to his knees. it burns– but all lark can do is stare as the knife rips down henry’s back, seeking the staticky curse that lives in him, carving a bright, bloody trail.

henry wheezes. when lark finally steps away to kneel at his brother’s side, he can see what sparrow had first seen before the curse had overtaken him; the pain in their father’s eyes, even with the love, that stupid, unconditional love, filtering in over it.

and then he, too, convulses, static pouring out of him like a fountain. he did it, lark realizes, and the relief washes over him again; finally, things can change. i’ve won.

it is all lark has the chance to feel before the static overtakes him, and his vision blacks out.

(in his unconscious state, he misses the way darryl carries him and sparrow both to their bedrooms, safe from the carnage lark has brought to them.

in his unconscious state, he is unaware of the way his father's life drains out onto the floor, overtaken by black sludge and static as the knife carved a place for itself in his heart.

he cannot hear his mother crying, nor the way his father whispers to her: mi amor, mi vida, it will be alright. a placative lie; henry has always been the best at placative lies.

he knows his father's friends, and he knows that they must try and save him- to no avail, because the afflicted wounds are fueled by magic, and it is too late, it is far too late.

as lark dreams of a darkened sun, his father dies in his mother's arms, and the doodler finally emerges.)

#kasey writes stuff #henry oak #dndads #dungeons and daddies #this IS canon divergent btw like i have this entire au in my head now #do yall think the rogue spell would break if henry died?#cause uhhh i do <3 #lark oak #angst #whoopsies

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the-fried-rice-symbolism · 2 years

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The way Kotetsu loves Barnaby though.

Honestly I don’t think he himself knows that yet.

I made a post about Barnaby loving Kotetsu to a degree where he doesn’t even think that he can lie to him. It comes from the fact that Kotetsu is the first person outside of his family that Barnaby can trust, and he has a lot of trust to give once he decides to do so (the fact that it takes him 8 episodes and a near death situation is another thing but once he does he gives it his all and then just never stops. Barnaby’s love for Kotetsu is so obvious that he wears his heart on his sleeve for him and everyone can see it besides Kotetsu).

But the way Kotetsu loves Barnaby is different of course. It’s more subtile, because Barnaby is not his first love so there’s none of that naivitete of “oh we have all the time in the world” (Kotetsu knows that’s not the case, he lost one person he loved already). And he just. Does things for him. Is there for him. Respects his boundaries and tries his best to be what Barnaby needs at that moment.

And he does all that in actions like, making fried rice for him when Barnaby cannot think of that, seeking for the truth behind what really happened. Asking if he’s really okay with the grueling hero work etc.

And it’s like. Kotetsu is so good at hiding his feelings, that he’s mistaken for not caring at all by people who don’t know him. He is so oblivious to them that he’s like “Yeah that’s what partners do” and he is also an idiot, and plays with his stupidity well.

Kotetsu loves Barnaby so much and is so good at hiding it that he’s even got Maverick fooled - that once he’s apprehended he’d give up on him, that he just cares about him bc he’s his partner.

Kotetsu loves Barnaby so much he gives him a nickname that changes everything. And it’s such a 5d chess love language encrypted by societal expectations that nobody pays it any mind, hell even Kotetsu doesn’t think it means a lot.

Kotetsu loves Barnaby so much that he doesn’t try to hug him when Barnaby doesn’t want to, and stops inviting him over for dinner after like tenth time Barnaby declined. But the minute Barnaby expresses interest in going to drinks together Kotetsu holds him to that - because he loves him.

But he doesn’t know that yet.

#I can really see them with the 'you've been flirting with me? have been for the past year thanks for noticing'#and the thing where Barnaby things Kotetsu knows they're dating but Kotetsu asks him out after like 10th date together #anyway they are so in love and orbiting around each other it's a miracle if they ever get together #anyway i love them your honor and I think that this is such a nice way of showing love in different forms #they're gay!!! good for them!!!!

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wrench-jackie · 10 months

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𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 - Jack W.ynand

01. type of bed: Jack doesn’t have a strong preference on a type of bed, he spent his childhood sleeping on cots, comfort was never a luxury he worried about. All he needs is a space designated for him. It can be the couch or his bed in his room, it just has to be set aside for him, otherwise Jack won’t sleep there.

02. number of blankets: Jack doesn’t feel temperature very well unless its extreme (and by that I mean he can feel how hot the lava in Hephaestus is. But not how hot the stove is. He will burn his hands on the stove a LOT). His choice in blankets is mostly about texture, how soft they are, and he’ll only have one.

03. number of pillows: He has two. One for his head and one he always ends up holding in his arms.

04. type of clothing: Jack isn’t picky about his clothing in general, but he likes to keep things simple and consistent. White sleep shirt and gray pants. He’ll never change it up, Jack would rather patch up the holes in the shirt than buy a new one. Maybe the colors are similar to his hospital gown, but Jack never makes that connection.

05. does it matter where they sleep?: As long as its safe Jack can make do. The trick is actually getting him to feel safe enough to sleep.

06. what do they do if they cannot fall asleep?: In general Jack puts off sleeping for as long as he can, doing chores around the house, reading books, doing the paper’s crossword and sudoku until he can’t justify putting it off any longer. Jack feels an obligation to lie down and try to sleep even when he doesn’t want to. Something left over from the labs where he went through empty nights with nothing to do but lay in bed. He isn’t able to shake that habit yet, and will lay in bed, hoping he’ll fall asleep. Nightmares are the only thing that will get him out of bed; he’ll go outside and sit on the porch. Counting the stars until he feels better. If he’s really on edge he grabs his shotgun from its case and watches the perimeter all night.

07. frequent dreams, nightmares: Sleep is always restless for Jack, his dreams are rarely empty and he deals with constant nightmares. There’s a sense of powerlessness in dreams that lends itself to his fears. He has a lot of dreams about WYK and Fontaine, as those moments were always his weakest. Dreams where he was never freed and forced to live other people’s whims. Dreams where he’s still under Fontaine’s control and ordered to kill Tenenbaum and the girls. Dreams where Jack’s house is empty and Fontaine is waiting for him in the living room. Dreams where Tenenbaum left Jack behind in Rapture. Jack can’t consciously remember his time in the labs, but his subconscious still holds those repressed memories and they bleed into his nightmares. Fuzzy and shattered relocations of things that happened in his childhood, and when Jack wakes up he can’t remember those dreams. Only the feelings remain and he can’t look at Tenenbaum in the morning.

09. when do they sleep: Rarely. He consistently goes days on just a couple of hours of sleep. He’s built to function on less sleep but it still takes a toll on him. Jack has trouble letting his guard down enough to sleep. Being unconscious is vulnerability, and he can’t be weak. Not when he has a family to protect. He has to be awake, in case someone attacks his home. In case someone comes after him. Tenenbaum doing work on his mind while he was unconscious did not help this, even though she was helping him it still reinforces that vulnerability. That while he sleeps someone could rewire his brain and change him to their whim, and he’d be helpless to stop them.

10. what could wake them up: Jack is a light sleeper, it doesn’t take much to wake him up. The slightest sounds are enough to rouse him, from someone walking down the hall to the wind against the house. He’s on alert for any sign of danger, and for any sign of the girls being up. He wants to be there for his children, so the girls waking up wakes him up. They’ll get through the night together.

Tagged by: @resistancesought

Tagging: @mxlevolent @sanctamater @bellytochin

#{{Headcanon}}#{{I Am Mine Before I Am Ever Anyone Elses}} (Jack)#things instead of sleeping: WRITING ABOUT SLEEPING!!! (i am going to bed now)#i could write a lot. about jack's relationship with sleep. it is! not good!

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5judgements · 1 year

Text

@stingslikeabee asked:

“How about you and I? Are we gonna try again?”

Another chilled night had fallen upon them, his eyes focused on the warm crackling embers of a fire keeping their room tolerable. It hadn't been a meeting born with any intention outside of being with one another, the proximity was enough for him, though he understands she wanted more. She sought to save his soul from the damnations of the empire, and he would struggle against her every attempt to do so, a condemned man weighed down by his self made chains. Dressed down in the oppressive armor of his station it is a bolstering focus for himself just who he was supposed to be, what he became.

Melissa in her existence here, under a name not her own and sent on the whims of their rocky relations with Bhujerba, was an entangling mystery. Though the woman claimed no misguided intentions to be in Archades he couldn’t in his right mind, deny the impeccable timing of it all. Something in the way that her expression had changed when they first locked eyes upon one another, so many months ago now, had set him off. A red flag waving its fabled color of blood against the contrast of her alluring appearances; he was no fool, there was a feeling of the situation being incredibly wrong.

Bowing his head for a moment and running his fingers across the nape of his neck in a display of an exhausted mind, he is fairly aware of her moving around behind him, keen ears listening for the betrayal he figured was coming. That is all his life had ever amounted to. A countless occurrence of treachery, violence, death, he cannot afford to believe anything else. Stilling himself and glancing towards his helmet placed on the floor between his feet, Gabranth observes her reflection in the metal from where he’s sitting.

“How about you and I? Are we gonna try again?”

She asks, and he doesn’t respond, watching the way that she stood like a wilted flower beyond him. There is a sadness settled whole into her voice that pierces through whatever remained of his heart.

He doesn’t know what she wants from him, that he was entirely unable to give her an answer made his guts coil into knots. She continued to lie straight to his face and still, she wanted to make something of them? He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it, if he hadn’t been the one to agree in the first place, to meet her in the rented hotel room. Maybe it is an underlying seam in his armor that she is plucking upon to try and unravel his every defense, this ploy, these emotions, all her claims of innocence.

He doesn’t want to find evidence supporting otherwise, but it is beginning to eat him alive, that she might still stick a long blade into his throat.

“We can’t,” he finally answers her.

The words feel as hollow as his chest, a whistling gust of wind through his lungs releasing the syllables. His fingers feel numb against the gloves they are wrapped in and it seems like a waking dream when he reaches out to take the glaring helmet from where he’d set it. These motions are not his own, they belong to someone else, a monster puppeteering his every action and thought. He isn’t sure if there is a distinction between the two anymore, if he is even alive, or if this Gabranth had swallowed everything that made the flesh beneath the armor. It doesn’t seem an important tribulation enough to stop him from replacing the offensive grimace over his features.

“You would do well to end this charade, before I do it for you.”

He will leave with the wondering question, what had Noah seen in her, and have the answer before he steps foot outside the building.

Everything.

#(GABRANTH) IC #stingslikeabee #feeling very normal about this #definitely not emotionally compromised #or crying

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kira-fluff · 2 years

Note

*discreetly slides french fry across the table* could you out nishinoya and hinata in for the next haikyuu boys accidentally waking in on you?

a/n: i now only accept french fries as currency. jk lol you’re so cute anon ;-; 💕 glad to see it’s not just me who loves to read these tropes;;; once again i am thirsting after hiroo koji like he should not be allowed to be that hot and he deserved more relevance solely because he is so so attractive ugh

accidentally walking in on you changing - haikyuu [pt. 3]

pt. 1 pt. 2 refresh my page in order to view my navigation (includes masterlists) :) tw: fem!reader, suggestive, nsfw, cursing

nishinoya yu

rapid blinking, his facing progressively growing more red. if you’re quiet, you can hear the faintest little gasp.

you thought he was going to make a big, loud ruckus once he saw you? no, he’s literally shocked into silence. what a cutie. please don’t yell at him :’( he feels superrrr bad especially since like,,, he can’t stop thinking about you in that state. why are you so lovely and pretty and gorgeous?!?!??!? once he’s over his initial shock and you come out of the room fully dressed, his apology will also include a few compliments. what? he can appreciate art just like the rest of us.

hinata shoyo

“O-O-OH MY GOD I’M — I’M SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! SORR—“

jumped so high he accidentally hit his head on the top of the door. his eyes are comically wide open! won’t stop apologizing though, he literally cannot hear a word you’re saying over the rushing of his heartbeat. repeatedly bows in tandem with his many apologies. you might have to grab him in order to get him to finally stop. this boy was about to grovel for you lol. he can’t help it though!! he drinks respect women juice and he just wants you to know that he loves and respects you AND you are so pretty but oh shit did i say that last part out loud?

daichi sawamura

“p-please excuse me!”

this dude deadass broke your door he slammed it so hard. i mean he’s beefy as fuck so what did you expect. he bows so low you think he might topple over with the exertion and effort he’s putting into it. he won’t allow his mind to wander.. he knows just how easily he will go down that road. he swears he’s a gentleman even when it’s late at night and he can’t sleep, a tent in his pants. even when he’s trying so hard to resist thinking of you, his dick says otherwise. he will reflexively apologize to you whenever he sees you… he’s terrified you can read his thoughts — they aren’t the purest things ever.

matsukawa issei

“heh.”

can i punch him? shut the fuck up issei. his stupid ass fucking laugh like what’s so funny bitch you wanna throw hands??? you missed the way his hooded eyes pooled with lust when he took in your form, a complete lack of clothing adorning your beautiful body. if you’re feisty enough you might even start beating the shit out of him while forgetting you’re completely naked. that would be something he’d never forget. lol. but seriously, he’s not laughing at your body, he’s laughing because all that’s running through his mind is “what did i do for god to bless me like this?” hanamaki calls him “lucky bastard” for a while, unbeknownst to your oblivious self. yeah, he’s going to ask you out. soon. no one else can look at you like that… right? please date him. he doesn’t think he can handle anymore of your blushing gazes… he wants to kiss you so bad.

semi eita

looks anywhere but you. what? “did you see something?” pfft. no. no. nope.

what do you mean you swore you met his eyes? he was looking at your potted plant (which you need to stop overwatering, by the way). he knows you can tell through his thinly veiled lie, but please don’t call him out on it. it’s all that holding him together right now. seriously. he wants you so, so badly.. and you just made things a whole lot worse. he knocked but you didn’t hear him? how does that even happen? you knew he was coming over!! …by the way, this stays between the two of you. if tendo ever found out……yeah, no. absolutely not.

shirabu kenjiro

crosses his arms, biting the inside of his cheek, eyebrow raised. but he’s looking away, so…

another salty ass bitch. but he does it hot-ly. so it’s like, semi-okay. but only SEMI-okay. he’s such a big, fat, bratty liar. like “oh geez use a lock dumbass” but you know and he knows that he is soft as hell for you. it’s pretty hard to ignore the fact that he gives you adorable highlighted, meticulous study guides for every single test you have (and not to anyone else, of course). basically he’s salty to everyone but you. but he’s got a reputation to uphold so he’s gonna act like that’s totally not true. but fuck, you’re so pretty. not fair. and why did you have to be in your panties? couldn’t you’ve kept a damn shirt on?

hiroo koji (if you don’t know who he is he’s HOT ASF TRUST ME so look him up and join the Worship Koji religion uwu)

“seriously?”

how is this shit even real? what is this, an anime? yes this shit doesn’t happen normally but of course you just HAD to find a way for even the most impossible situations to occur. such a classic YOU thing to happen. only you. it was always you. you already consumed the majority of his thoughts and now it looks like you might just consume all of them. letting out a painful sigh, he closes the door as you continue to gape at him, only letting out a soft, “uuumm…” what sort of reaction was that anyway? i mean, you throwing stuff at him would’ve been a pain but it almost seemed like— …no, there’s no way. whatever, it’s not like he cares. totally not at all. ugh.

himekawa aoi

no words, just a shocked hand over his mouth, covering his silent scream.

hoW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM!!! hE WAS NOT PREPARED!!!! immediately his face bursts into flames… why is it so freakishly hot in here? why are you naked? why did you have to take so longer to register his presence before finally covering yourself up? WHY ARE YOU SO GORGEOUS?? literally sirens, just sirens going off in his head. so dramatic. literally, if you aren’t screaming your lungs out as he slams the door, you can hear his rough panting, trying to cover his face as he feels all his blood rush south. so. cute. though he probably will take at least a month to recover.

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spectaclespencer · 3 years

Text

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter here! You can also send me an ask to be added to/removed from the taglist.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #virgin spencer reid #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #gublernation #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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the-splodge · 2 years

Text

Okay so I’ve just unlocked the colosseum and beaten the meta knight tournament, and WOW, HAL really did him justice!!

- i wasn’t actually surprised that he was an arena boss, since the trailer showed waddle dees watching you fight him. I guess I was a bit disappointed he wasn’t a story boss, but it’s actually really fitting for his character so I don’t mind it!

- his intro??? flying over waddle dee town and into the colosseum??? and then swooping down into the arena itself??? Legendary gotta love that energy

- also gotta love you being given the sword to fight him. a classic

- his MOVES!!! one thing I disliked about star allies’ meta knight fight was that it was chaotic and. not in the good way. 4 meta knights plus 4 allies made it VERY hard to comprehend what was going on, plus the background was dark enough that meta sorta blended into it. plus his moveset was quite limited, and it didnt feel like you had to put much thought into fighting him (he’d either stab you from the ground, stab you from the air with the crescents or do the rock attack)

- here though? Meta Knight moves EXTREMELY fluidly; actually appearing to dodge attacks, using moves that would push you away then fly over to the other side of the arena (hell, even the fact that he MAKES USE of the whole arena and doesn’t just stab you in one spot is impressive for me), the attacks that you’re forced to dodge and then given a chance to move in, occasionally flying above you so that you’re forced to use air attacks

- still speaking of his moves, I love the variety! most of them are still sword attacks, which is fine, but they’re all different now and you have to dodge them in different ways! Plus I love that they kept the rock attack from star allies. Don’t really know why but I appreciate it

- THE EFFECTS!!! Holy fuck the effects. I didn’t expect the effects. Theyre GORGEOUS, and it might just be me being easily distracted, but I love the chaoticness of them - they stand out from the stage (speaking of the stage I’m very fucking glad MK actually contrasts it this time so I can see where the fuck he is) and draw your eyes to them, making you want to pay attention to them instead of who you’re fighting (which I MUCH more appreciate than the ‘I literally cannot tell what is going on’ from his star allies fight). Also the effects differ from each other, which is extremely fucking cool!!! And the BATS!!! I wasn’t expecting the fucking bats (or any of the more dark effects) but holy fuck they were cool af give me 20 more of those. Also I appreciated after his ’stab his sword into the ground’ attack you could see him trying to pull it out. Didn’t think that one through did ya buddy

- also I think they changed up his theme a bit. I only heard the first 10 seconds because I block out music when I’m focusing but the first 10 seconds I did hear were cool AS

- also I feel like his battle was reasonably balanced? I’ve been playing on wild mode because I’m not going to lie this game is easy. But I actually had to think and dodge and panic a bit rather than stab and run away, which I very much appreciated. (Plus I got mildly frustrated when I couldn’t hit him when he kept flying around, which I genuinely enjoyed since it made actually landing a hit feel so much better). However, he wasn’t hard. He made me think, yes, but he was a fair boss and it didn’t make me feel like the game just pulled out a whole lotta bullshit just to make him difficult.

- overall I can’t rate how I feel about this; numbers Cannot do it justice. I really appreciate how fluid the fight felt, as well as rewarding to beat him, and plus I love how they made use of the fact that it’s a 3D game now

#kirby series #kirby and the forgotten land spoilers #kirby and the forgotten land #kirby spoilers #meta knight #I just love it so much you guys

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silverflame2724 · 3 years

Note

Accidental Martial God WWX

That was exacty what I meant actually but I do have a few more povs if you want.

LQRs reaction to a demonic cultivator ascending, JGS and JGY reaction to the Yin Tiger Tally moving completely out of reach, WQ pondering the true requirements for ascension given WWX doesn't have a golden core yet ascended, WWX musing on Godhood and on his new followers both the good and the more disturbing worshipers.

Maybe LWJ protects the Wen Remnants because WWX asked him to in a dream and after he succeeds (13 years later) he ascends and is finally reunited with WWX.

Lan Qiren did not know what to think. Wei Wuxian, his most troublesome student, a demonic cultivator, had ascended. He’d ascended. How was that even possible? Were the Heavens blind? Why would they allow someone like Wei Wuxian to ascend?

From what Lan Qiren had thought, only those who are righteous and followed the correct path in life like the Lan clan’s founder, Lan An, would be worthy of ascending.

Either the qualifications for ascension were lower than he thought or Lan Qiren had been horribly mistaken about Wei Wuxian’s personality and motivations for using demonic cultivation. That last thought made Lan Qiren feel very uncomfortable.

He’d always been harsh on the boy and disregarded him, even - he ashamedly admitted - punishing him harsher and more frequently than others.

He’d thought he was in the right because of how Wei Wuxian was but…..

But if he was wrong then Lan Qiren owed him an apology.

………………….

Jin Guangshan wanted to scream out in frustration seeing Wei Wuxian ascend. That brat had the Stygian Tiger Seal on him - according to his spies - and now that he ascended, the Seal went with him.

He had had so many plans on bribing Wei Wuxian to his side or killing him when he refused - as well as stealing the Seal - and then taking over the cultivation world, lording over it as he was always meant to be.

Now those plans are ruined. He sighed. Hopefully that bastard son of his can finally prove his usefulness and give him countermeasures or he might retract his favor from him.

……………………

Jin Guangyao’s first thought upon seeing Wei Wuxian ascend was: Oh shit. I have to go make up new plans to help Father.

He knew his father wanted Wei Wuxian and the Seal and didn’t really care how he obtained both or either, just as long as no one traced it back to him. He sighed. This was going to be a big headache. But at least the plans on putting his father as Chief Cultivator were going smoothly. He could only imagine what his father would do to him if even this failed.

..............................

Wen Qing had still been in Yiling, making plans to relocate her family, when the news that Wei Wuxian had ascended had reached her.

Her first reaction was, That’s impossible.

Because it was, right? Wen Qing should know. She cut out his core, after all. But to think he was still able to ascend while he was a demonic cultivator made her wonder what the requirements were for ascending. Perhaps it’s an honest heart? Self-sacrificing tendencies? Or is it a sacrifice of some sorts? She paused. What if.....it was a trial? To test a person’s will? What Wei Wuxian had suffered was.....horrible. Could it have all been just a test from the Heavens?

If that was so, the Heavens really are cru---

“A’ Jie, we have to go! Some Jin were spotted nearby!”

Wen Qing gritted her teeth. Members of the branch families of Qishan, regardless of whether they were innocent or not, were captured and subsequently tortured to death by the Jin and sometimes the Nie. Because her family was all in Yiling, they were safe.......but only for now. They had to hurry and escape.

Wen Qing sent a quick prayer to Wei Wuxian, hoping for her family’s safety, and tucked the rest of her belongings in her qiankun pouch, remembering to wrap her arms in bandages to hide the needles she might need to paralyze any Jin that came close.

....................................

Wei Wuxian’s first thought when he landed in the Heavens was, What the fuck.

Then he looked around and looked taken aback and wary at the unfamiliar faces around him. Where the fuck am I?

“Hello.” A rather stoic-faced man greeted.

“Hello.” Wei Wuxian parroted back. The person in front of him didn’t seem to be a threat so he felt a little tension loosen from his shoulders. “Um, Xiansheng? I’m afraid I don’t know where I am?”

“You have just ascended.” The man replied, throwing Wei Wuxian aback.

“Are you pulling my leg?” Wei Wuxian asked. “How is that even possible! I don’t even have---” He swallowed. I don’t even have a core.

“I do not lie. Come, we are wasting time. We must get you washed up and dressed for the induction ceremony.” Seeing Wei Wuxian still frozen, the man sighed, signalled for some people to pick Wei Wuxian up and dragged the struggling man to some quarters.

After absentmindedly washing, drying and changing himself, Wei Wuxian noticed some differences in his body. He wasn’t....cold or hurting anymore. And - he touched his back - he could feel his back! After having his muscles and nerves shredded by Zidian, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to sense touch on his back or even move without pain! But now he can!

He heard the urging of some people and grumbled.

“You will become a god of demonic cultivation.” Was the first thing he heard when he stepped out of the room.

Wei Wuxian choked. “Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said. Now then, if you would please concentrate, you should be able to hear the prayers of the people below.”

Wei Wuxian felt like everything was moving a little too fast for him, but nevertheless complied. Immediately after, a flood of prayers hit him at full force.

“Wei Wuxian!” That was Jiang Cheng! “….Have some fun up there.”

“A’ Xian, do be well. Shijie isn’t there to take care of you so do be well.” Wei Wuxian refused to cry.

“Wei-Xiong! I hope there’s someone up there to supply you with you know what *winks*”

How does someone even wink in their prayers? Wei Wuxian thought amusedly.

“Wei Ying.” That was Lan Zhan. “Wei Ying, I will—be well.”

Ah, Lan Zhan. Always concise even in your thoughts.

Wei Wuxian was a little teary. As much as he was glad to not be a part of the cultivation world considering all the rumors, he did regret leaving behind those that cared for him.

That thought was much more cemented upon hearing…….

“Ah, Lord Wei, the pinnacle of evil, the role model of all demonic cultivators!” Wei Wuxian’s eye twitched. “Please hear my plea for more power! I need it, I need it to destroy everyone who harmed me!”

“Wei Wuxian, I wish to gain power over resentful energy so that I may tear my enemies limb by limb!

“Give me money! You’re a god, aren’t you? Be useful for once and give me some gold!”

“Tch. If I’m going to pray for anything, then it’ll have to be the Seal. You’re a god, now, right? So you have no need for the Seal. Just give it up.”

No matter the good or bad, Wei Wuxian heard the wishes and prayers of the people down below and while some were innocent enough, there were those that wished for death, destruction, tools for torture, power, money, women…….you name it.

It made Wei Wuxian feel a little disgusted with humanity. He cut off his focus from the bad and focused on the prayer he received from his friends and family.

“Wei Wuxian, I heard you became a god.” It was Wen Qing. He hadn’t heard her voice in a long time. “I know this might seem shameless of me after all I did to you, but please. Please guarantee the safety of my family. We’re being hunted down and—”

Her prayer was abruptly cut off, before coming back in full force with notes of desperation. Her family had been captured and taken to Qiongqi Path! Wei Wuxian panicked. He didn’t know how to escape from this place and try to go help her.

The…..person who was watching over him evidently knew what he was thinking about and merely stated that gods cannot interfere with the mortal realm. So he was stuck.

But that didn’t mean he was out of options.

It took a few days, but he managed to wheedle out how to help: via dreams. He merely needed to get into the mind of one of his followers and tell them to help. Much like those prophetic dreams Wei Wuxian had read about as a kid.

So he buckled down, thinking of the best candidate to help him.

……………………………

Lan Wangji looked at the landscape around him and concluded that he was dreaming. Though, it was a little odd that he was aware that he was dreaming. Not that he hasn’t realized he was dreaming before - especially in those many fantasies he had of Wei Ying - but to be aware that this is a dream and to see nothing but a flat landscape was pretty out of the ordinary.

Anyway, he digressed. What was going on?

“Uhh, Lan Zhan? Can you hear me?”

“W-Wei Ying?!” Lan Wangji couldn’t be blamed for stuttering. He wasn’t expecting this!

“Phew. Oh good, you can hear me. Anyway, Lan Zhan, I gotta be quick about this because I’m kinda sorta bending the rules here, but do you think you can go to Qiongqi Path and rescue Wen Qing and her family?”

“Okay.”

“Huh? Just like that? Not even going to ask me for a reason, er-gege?”

Lan Wangji’s ears flushed red at the address. “If Wei Ying wants to save them, you must have a good reason. That’s enough for me.”

“Ah, Hanguang-Jun.” The title was spoken fondly. “Always so good. I’ll tell you anyway. Wen Qing and her family sheltered Jiang Cheng and I after Lotus Pier fell and even brought back Jiang-shushu and Yu-furen’s bodies! That’s a debt I cannot repay.”

“I understand. I will help.”

He couldn’t see Wei Ying, but could practically feel the amusement from him.

“Wei Ying.”

“Yes?”

“Are......Are you well?”

“Of course I am. I’m actually feeling so much better than before.” Wei Ying grumbled, “I’m not even in pain anymore.”

“You were in pain?” Lan Wangji asked worriedly. “Wei Ying, why didn’t you say anything.”

“Lan Zhan, there was nothing you or anyone else could do to alleviate my pain. It doesn’t matter now. I’m okay.”

Lan Wangji was still worried and wanted to speak to him more, but---

“Ah! Looks like my time’s up!” Wei Ying exclaimed cheerfully as the dreamscape wavered. “See you, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji nodded. “See you, Wei Ying.” I’ll catch up to you soon.

And 13 years later, Lan Wangji kept his promise.

___________________

I didn’t edit this so I’m hoping there’s not too many grammatical errors lol.

#mdzs #wei ying #wei wuxian #lan qiren #jin guangshan #jin guangyao #lan zhan #lan wangji #wen remnants #wen remnants survive #JGS and JGY can no longer scheme against WWX :)#LQR is kinda an asshole #but at least he sorta admits it?#hurt wei wuxian #implied chronic pain

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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years

Text

Sweet as Sugar (Sugar Daddy!Jensen Mini Series) - Part Three

Summary: Jensen’s not like the other sugar daddies - he doesn’t want to mix money with sex. But meeting Y/N might have him changing his mind.

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Jensen x Reader

Part Tags: fluff, angst, teasing, flirting, lingerie, mentions of sex toys, anticipation, fluff, mentions of Dom/sub, mentions of smut, kissing

Part WC: ± 6.5k

A/Ns: This was the original ending to the series, but my patrons wanted more, and they get what they want 🤣There are another 5 parts to come.

Sweet as Sugar Masterlist // Jensen x Reader Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

Part Three

Two Months Later

Jensen: What have you been up to today, sweetheart?

Y/N: Cramming for these finals, I cannot wait for the semester to be over.

Jensen: Do you need me to leave you alone?

Y/N: No! Please don’t. I miss you, when are you back?

Jensen: Two more days. Want to spend the day together on Friday?

Y/N: I have a deadline Friday, but after three I’m free.

Jensen: Great, then I’m taking you out and we’re celebrating.

Y/N: Yeah, until Monday when I’ve got another deadline to hit.

Jensen: Monday can wait. We’re talking about Friday right now

Y/N smiles fondly at her phone, biting her bottom lip. It’s been two weeks since she’s seen Jensen. He’s been on some business trip in New York, and she’s been too busy for him to send for the helicopter to bring her to him for a few days. So they’ve had to resort to texts and phone calls instead. A tiny part of her is relieved, though. Ever since they kissed on his yacht, things between them have been different, but not necessarily in a good way. They’d both admitted to liking each other that next morning, and they’d both agreed to take things slow and steady, letting things naturally progress, but Y/N didn’t think it meant this slow. They’ve not kissed at all since. Not beyond Jensen kissing her forehead, or another part of her head that isn’t her lips. And he sometimes will put his arm around her more affectionately than before, and sometimes their conversations get a little deeper or a little more flirty than they used to, but that’s as far as it’s gone.

Beyond that, everything had been back to the way it was. Jensen hasn’t tried to make any more moves, and Y/N has been too afraid to make any herself, because now she’s second guessing if he even likes her that way. If he did, he’d have kissed her again already, right? So maybe he’s changed his mind, and she can’t kiss him if he has, or it’ll be awkward and weird and ruin everything. And whilst she was the one that had said no sex, now it’s all she can think about. What Jensen’s hands would feel like on her skin, what his kiss would feel like in other places. If her head wasn’t spinning from college work, it was spinning from thoughts of Jensen. But now she just wishes she’d never kissed him in the first place. Because now she knows what she’s missing, and fuck, she’s missing a lot.

Nowadays, money appears in Y/N’s account and she spends it on bills or whatever it is she needs, and she doesn’t necessarily think about where it’s coming from, which is helping her separate her feelings for Jensen as something more than just her Sugar Daddy. But she can’t be sure the same applies for him. They’re both in unchartered waters, after all. Besides his ex, Jensen hasn’t had a real relationship in a long time. What if he’s decided that he doesn’t want to make an exception like he’d said he would on the yacht that day? He’s still flirting with her, but Y/N can’t be sure that means anything, because they flirted before they kissed.

Jensen: How long have you been studying?

Y/N: A few hours, I woke up at nine.

Jensen: Baby girl, it’s almost six p.m

Y/N looks at the time and sees that Jensen’s right. Fuck, she’s been studying for nine hours and not even realised it.

Jensen: Have you eaten?

Y/N: Yes

It’s a lie, but Jensen will probably be mad if she tells him no.

Jensen: You should take a break. I’m gonna send you some money, get online and buy something nice for our drinks on Friday.

Y/N: I’ve not got much left, I’ll do it once I’m done.

Jensen: No, you’ll do it now

Y/N: Yes Dad.

Jensen: It’s Daddy, thank you

Y/N giggles at her cell and sits back in her chair, stretching her neck and rubbing her shoulders. She finally gets up, realising just how numb her ass is, and heads towards the kitchen. She should probably at least make herself a drink. Her cell phone rings out and she sees it’s Jensen.

“Hey,” she answers, turning the coffee machine on.

“I’m just checking you’re actually taking a break,” he replies. Y/N rolls her eyes at thin air and grabs a mug. “Are you having coffee at this time?”

“How the fuck did you work that out?”

“I know the sound of your coffee machine, it makes that beeping noise, I should get you the one I’ve got, it’s quicker too. But that’s beside the point, caffeine at this time is a bad idea.”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like being called Dad, you sure act like one sometimes,” Y/N sasses.

“Are you looking for an outfit for Friday?” Jensen asks, changing the subject.

“Not yet, I was thinking of actually going into town tomorrow afternoon, I can try some stuff on then,” she explains.

“Yeah, I like that idea, you should get out of your apartment for a bit.”

There’s a knock at her door and Y/N frowns.

“Two seconds,” she tells him, heading towards the door. She opens it and sees a pizza delivery guy handing her a box. “Oh I didn’t order–”

“Eat,” Jensen’s voice sounds out down the phone. Y/N sighs and takes the box, thanking the driver and closing the door with her foot.

“I already told you I’ve eaten.”

“And as you keep reminding me every time you call me ‘Dad’, I wasn’t born yesterday.” Y/N places the box down on the kitchen counter and opens it to see her favourite.

“I’m gonna get fat if you keep sending me food, you know, will you still want me then?” Y/N jokes, grabbing a slice and stuffing it into her mouth. Now the smell of food is here, she’s realised how hungry she is.

Jensen laughs, “always.”

The line falls quiet, and Y/N so desperately wants to bring up the conversation on the yacht, but she doesn’t want to seem desperate or annoying, so she stays quiet, using eating as her excuse.

“Well I’ve gotta go, sweetheart, but I want you to eat that pizza and take the rest of the night off, okay?” he orders.

“Yes, Daddy,” Y/N smirks, licking her fingers before grabbing another slice.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” she smiles, hanging up. She bites her bottom lip as she places her cell down, and thinks about his comment about how he’ll always want her. Then why isn’t he making a move? He’s giving so many mixed signals, she needs something to give her a clear sign for once and for all.

Y/N has forced herself away from the computer and books and is actually in town like she’d promised Jensen, ready to spend the money he sent for her to buy something for Friday. She’s finally accepted that Jensen likes her spending his money, and so she’s started to see shopping and retail therapy as something that is beneficial for him. She’s making him happy by doing this, and she likes making Jensen happy. She’s not sure what she’s on the lookout for, but she eyes up dresses in shop windows as she passes, hoping she’ll see something that stands out. She slows as she passes a lingerie shop, and bites her bottom lip. She does need new underwear, and she knows Jensen’s going to have sent her plenty for a dress and several other things. She steps inside and starts looking, grabbing a few bras and panties, and then she gets distracted by a red lace bodysuit on a mannequin. She heads over to it and finds her size, staring at it on the hanger for a long moment. She has no reason to own something this sexy, it’s not like anyone is seeing her in her underwear, and her and Jensen aren’t in that kind of relationship.

She’d gotten into the habit of sending Jensen photos of everything she buys with his money, and she giggles at the very thought of sending him a photo of that. And then her giggle dies. What a good idea. She can just send him a photo of the lingerie, she doesn’t have to be wearing it, but maybe his reaction will help her figure out how he feels about her. She clutches onto the suit before she can change her mind and continues to look around the store, but then decides to only buy what she’s got in her hands. She finally finds a dress in the next store that’s simple and black but looks nice on, and she heads back home with her shopping bags, excited to show Jensen what she’s bought.

She tries the dress on first and stands in her mirror, taking a few shots of her wearing it and sends it to Jensen. It doesn’t take him long to reply and tell her he likes it, and he’s glad she went shopping like she wanted to.

Y/N: I did buy a few other things too

Jensen: Let me see

Y/N lays the underwear out on the bed in sets and sends him a photo.

Jensen: You mean, you’re not going to model those too? ;)

Y/N laughs at his reply, feeling her cheeks heat up. Jensen’s always been a bit of a flirt, but this is the first time she’s shared something slightly risque like that.

Y/N: Do you want me to?

She’s confident with her reply until she hits send, and then she questions if she’s been too forward.

Jensen: I was only teasing

Y/N is a little disappointed with his reply. Part of her liked the idea of him saying yes. And she’s still no closer to figuring out if he likes her or not.

Y/N: I do have one other option for Friday night…

She’s feeling a little nervous now as she waits for his reply, and she decides she isn’t going to send the lingerie on its own, she’s going to model it. It’s not exactly majorly revealing.

Jensen: Can I see it?

Y/N strips off and pulls the lace suit on, pleased to see it fits nicely and actually looks good on. She sorts out her hair a little and then tests out a few poses before taking some shots. Looking through her gallery she settles on her favourite one, actually quite liking the way she looks in it. If she’s going to do this, she needs to do it properly, so she types out a teasing caption to go with it, and her heart pounds in her chest when she sends it. The ticks turn blue and she waits on bated breath.

Jensen’s POV

Y/N: Do you want me to?

Yes is the answer, but Jensen can’t say that or he’ll go against everything he’s ever stood for. He isn’t one of those men that needs sexy photos from his sugar baby for her to get his money. And he doesn’t want to make Y/N uncomfortable. She’d been clear when they talked on his yacht a couple of months back that she didn’t want to involve sex yet, and he’s respected that, taking a back seat and letting her call the shots. He’s wanted to kiss her again so many times, but he’s always been afraid that that might be crossing that boundary. Kissing might lead to more, and he doesn’t want to put Y/N in a position where she feels like she has to. Plus, she’s not tried to kiss him yet, so he just needs to wait. So as much as he would like to see Y/N in her underwear, he’s not going to ask for it. Not unless she wants to off of her own back.

Jensen: I was only teasing

Y/N: I do have one other option for Friday night…

Jensen smiles softly at his cell, glad he’s not freaked her out with his teasing. He likes that Y/N has bought options for their date on Friday, though he’d be happy with her in jeans and a t-shirt, she deserves to feel amazing and wear something nice after all the stress she’s been under. And he likes receiving photos of her. He’s not seen her in a couple of weeks now, and he misses her. Just being with her, without the sex is still more than enough for him.

Jensen: Can I see it?

Jensen waits patiently for her to send another photo, kicking back on his couch and grabbing his whiskey. It had been a long day of meetings and discussions, and he’s finally able to relax in his New York apartment for the evening, meaning he’s completely and totally Y/N’s. He takes another sip of whiskey as his phone buzzes in his hand and he clicks on the photo and spits the drink out in front of him, sitting up straight.

“Fuck.” Y/N looks perfect – better than perfect if that’s possible. He’s never seen that much of her before, and fuck it only makes him want to see more. He zooms in on every single part of the photo for a closer look, and it only gets better. It’s been long enough since Jensen’s really had any relief that he can feel his slacks growing a little tighter. He’s thought about it a lot recently, what it’ll finally be like being with Y/N in that way. He can’t help it. He’d tried to fight it for so long, but he can’t deny it any longer. He’s in love with her, and knowing that she’s not another Katya as Y/N would call it, only makes him love her more.

Y/N: What do you think, Daddy? Or is it too revealing?

Jensen: It’s definitely my favorite, but I’m not sure about other men seeing you like that ;)

Jensen wants to remain respectful, but what is an appropriate response to a photo like that? He doesn’t want her to feel self conscious or worry she doesn’t look good if he doesn’t tell her how much he likes it, but he also can’t exactly tell her he’s freaking hard in his pants like some teenage boy over it – that would be inappropriate.

Y/N: Maybe I’ll wear it underneath the black dress then ;)

Jensen imagines getting Y/N home on Friday night and ripping that black dress off to reveal that red lace suit underneath, and his cock only gets harder still. But he can’t tell her any of this, not without overstepping a boundary. A tiny doubt niggles in the back of his mind that maybe she only did this after his comment about her modelling the underwear, and he wants to make sure she knows she doesn’t have to do it.

Jensen: You didn’t have to send me a photo.

Jensen: I’m not saying I don’t want the photos because I do, but just know you don’t have to send them.

Y/N: I know. I wanted to. I always send you photos of what I buy ;)

Jensen chuckles softly, and resists the urge to tell her to buy more things like that. Just the idea of Y/N sending him more photos is making his cock throb. Jesus Christ, it really has been too long, apparently. Jensen grinds the heel of his palm into his erection but it only makes it worse, so he grunts, undoing his trousers for some relief, and then his eyes drift back up to the photo and he finds himself mindlessly reaching into his slacks and pulling his hard length free.

Y/N: You know I don’t have much lingerie, maybe I should buy more?

Jensen: Say the word and I’ll send you the money.

Jensen’s hand only moves faster and harder over his cock at the thought of more lingerie, his bottom lip trapping between his teeth.

Y/N: Hm, yes please, there were several sets I’d like, maybe you can help me pick out more?

Jensen: It would be my pleasure.

And Jensen apparently isn’t lying, as a choked moan escapes his lips and he cums hot and salty on his own hand.

Friday Night

Y/N is sitting closer to him than usual, wiggling in her space as she moves her body to the music and drinks some more wine, and Jensen watches her fondly, but can’t help but let his eyes wander to her bare legs, wondering if she really is wearing that red number underneath. She probably isn’t. They still haven’t even kissed more than once and when – if – Y/N is ever ready to introduce sex into their weirdly unique relationship, she’s probably going to want to take it slow. Her hand drops to his thigh and she squeezes it, leaning into him.

“Can we go?” she asks above the music. Jensen nods and begrudgingly slips out of the booth, meaning Y/N’s hand slips away from his leg. He holds a hand out for her and she takes it, sliding out of the booth. As they step out onto the street, and it’s quieter, Jensen turns to her.

“Where would you like to go next?” he asks.

“Home,” she replies. Jensen’s a little disappointed that she wants to end their night, but she has had a fair amount to drink, and she’s now a little drunk. He’s barely sober himself.

The car ride back to her apartment is quiet, but he does hold her hand, and watches how she smiles quietly to herself the whole way there. He just can’t wait for her to be ready to introduce the physical stuff. He had been fully on board with leaving sex out of it at first, but now he’s gotten his head around the idea, he’s eager for it. As always, Jensen walks Y/N to her door, and even steps inside with her to make sure she’s okay before he leaves her alone for the rest of the night. But tonight, Y/N lingers by the door once she’s closed it and looks up at him through her lashes.

“Thanks for a fun night, Daddy,” she purrs. Jensen smirks softly.

“You’re welcome, baby girl,” he tells her gently. Y/N sighs, pressing her hands to his stomach and smoothing them up his body to his chest. There, she starts playing with the button of his shirt, biting her bottom lip.

“Do you have to go?” she asks quietly.

“I think I should,” he replies honestly. He wants nothing more right now than to pin her against that door and rip her clothes off of her body, but she’s not making any moves, and even if she was, she’s too drunk for him to feel okay with that.

“You don’t want to stay? Let me show you all the red lace underneath this dress?” Jensen’s cock is clearly listening now. Fuck.

“Shit, you’re making it really hard for me to keep your rule,” Jensen admits honestly with a sigh.

“What rule?” she smirks, like she knows the answer. “Maybe you should live a little, maybe I want you to break the rule.” Her hands fall down his body to his belt as she plays with that but doesn’t undo it, and Jensen’s mind is spinning with an insatiable need.

“Tell me again when you’re sober,” he tells her honestly, reaching down to grip her hands and stop her.

“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees. She reaches up on her tiptoes and places a lingering kiss on his cheek. “Night Daddy.” Jensen watches her turn and head down her hallway towards her bedroom and sighs heavily. God, he hates being a good guy sometimes.

Your POV

Ever since that night, Y/N has made it a little bit of a game. How far can she push Jensen before he snaps? And fuck, she really wants him to snap. She wants to drive him so crazy that he just loses control and can’t help himself. He likes her, she likes him, it’s stupid that it’s taking so long, and Y/N is fairly sure as soon as the levee breaks, there’ll be no stopping either of them. But the tension and the anticipation is like foreplay, and every day she only wants him more. Only grows more desperate to finally push him over the edge. She almost doesn’t want this part to end.

Today is no exception. Y/N is officially done with college until fall, and Jensen is celebrating by taking her away for the week to some tropical island she’s never even heard of in two days’ time. She’s been so focused on their week away together, where she can lay around in tiny bikinis and sip cocktails all day, that she’s not even really stopped to think about how much that might be costing Jensen, and how the Y/N that stepped onto his yacht for the first date would be mortified at the very idea of going on a week long vacation and letting Jensen spend all that money on her. Because it’s not just the private beach and hut with the chefs and waiters and staff on call twenty four seven that Jensen is paying out for. It’s the few hundred dollars he’s been throwing at her on a regular basis, every time they talk about the vacation and how she needs new clothes. Y/N hasn’t been on a real vacation in years.

Besides evening outfits for dinner, Y/N doesn’t really need clothes. Not since she and Jensen decided that they would do nothing but relax the whole week. Jensen’s been busy with work and Y/N with college, so they both deserve the total break. But still, Jensen has insisted regularly that she buy more bikinis, or sun hats, or new dresses, and shoes. Any excuse for her to spend his money, he found. After her old suitcase broke, he’d bought her new luggage, and had even talked about paying for her to spend the day at the salon to prepare for the trip. But she’d just been so caught up in teasing him, trying to make him cave, she’d been playing along with no protests. Something Jensen was clearly very happy about.

As Y/N walks through her door that afternoon she heads to her bedroom and dumps her shopping bags down on her bed. She grabs her cell and shoots Jensen a text, letting him know she’s been shopping again. She can’t help the smirk that curls over her lips at the very thought of what’s inside her shopping bags as Jensen replies and asks to see what she’s bought as always. She bites her bottom lip as she sits on her bed and types out a reply.

Y/N: So I was thinking about how I haven’t got much to wear for bed for our vacation. And I mean… I could sleep naked of course, but I thought I should probably get some stuff to wear just in case…

Y/N giggles at her own message, knowing that Jensen will be rolling his eyes, pretending to be annoyed about her teasing, but probably secretly turned on. Y/N reaches for the one bags and pulls out the tiny silk nightdress she’d bought, with the lace detail around the chest that leaves very little to the imagination.

Jensen: Why do I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well for me?

The dress fits like a glove and barely covers any of Y/N’s modesty which is exactly what she wanted. She poses in the mirror and sends Jensen the photo she’s just taken.

Jensen: Yep, this isn’t ending well for me

Y/N: And then I saw something and it made me think of you…

Y/N changes out of the silk nightdress and grabs the thin lacy bodysuit that’s a pale pink and has tiny sequin details to make it sparkle in the light. The neckline is so low it only just covers her belly button, and the fabric sits high on her hips and barely covers much, but she loves it. It’s perfect. She takes another photo and sends it, smirking as the ticks turn blue.

Jensen: You are on thin ice, missy.

Y/N: Don’t you like it Daddy? Should I take it off?

Jensen: You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?

Y/N: So is that a no? Should I leave it home?

Y/N chuckles to herself knowing that she’s getting under Jensen’s skin. Oh how she’d love for him to barge into her apartment right now and rip this off of her body himself.

Y/N: If you don’t like it, maybe you should come and rip it off of my body? Ruin it so I can’t wear it again…

Jensen: Baby girl, I’m in a meeting, you’re not making this easy.

Y/N: Could say I’m making it hard?

Jensen: Yeah, you could say that. I’ll call you later.

Y/N: Wait, there’s one more thing I bought. It’s not for vacation, but I really need one

Jensen: Okay, what is it? Dare I ask you to show me?

Y/N pulls the other bag closer, reaching inside for the box before opening it up and pulling it out of its packaging. Pressing the button on the side, the small vibrator jumps to life, surprisingly powerful in Y/N’s palm, and she has to click through a few different vibration settings before it turns off. She places it down on the bed and takes a photo, wondering exactly what Jensen’s reaction is gonna be to this.

Y/N: If you want me to model this one, I will

Jensen views it, but then there’s no reply, and Y/N is afraid that she might actually have pushed too far. And she fears not in a he’s gonna storm in and break the rules kind of way, in a pissed off, this isn’t working we should call it off kinda way. Which is not what Y/N wants at all. She chews her bottom lip anxiously now, waiting for a reply from Jensen that doesn’t come the entire time it takes her to get dressed in her regular clothes again. She changes her mind about adding the new items to her luggage that’s sitting mostly packed in the corner of the room. That’s if she’s even going now and Jensen doesn’t hate her for being a cocktease. God, she’s fucked this up big time.

Y/N: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease.

This message doesn’t get read. Maybe she’s overthinking this, maybe he’s suddenly got busy in the meeting she was interrupting and he can’t reply right now. She can only hope that’s what it is. She sulks out of her bedroom and into the kitchen to grab herself a drink, and almost jumps out of her skin when there’s a loud knock on her door. For a split second, she considers the fact that her little fantasy is coming true, and she rushes to answer the door. It only seems more real when she sees Jensen on the other side.

“Jensen,” she whimpers out, her eyes widening. He doesn’t look impressed, and he also doesn’t make moves to step over the threshold.

“Do you want me to break your rule?” Jensen asks immediately. Y/N’s mouth opens but no sounds comes out. “Do you? Just tell me. All the photos and the flirting and the teasing, I just need you to tell me explicitly. Do you want me to break your rule?” He seems annoyed, and that’s putting Y/N on edge. Maybe he doesn’t want to break the rule.

“No, not if you don’t want to,” she replies quietly.

“No, this isn’t about me, I’m asking you what you want. So just tell me, I need to hear you say it. You’re not making any real moves, so I need to hear you tell me you’re happy for me to make them.” Y/N swallows hard, her heart thudding in her chest. She thought making him snap and break the rule would be fun, but now she’s starting to realise that this is her rule, and Jensen is a respectable guy above all else. He’s been waiting on her.

“Yes,” she admits, her voice a little shaky. Jensen seems to relax ever so slightly at the confirmation, and then he takes a deep breath. Suddenly there’s an arousal thrumming through Y/N’s veins stronger than before, and she squirms on the spot. That’s it, it’s out there. This has to be the breaking point.

“Okay, good to know,” Jensen nods, reaching up to straighten his tie.

He turns to leave and Y/N frowns immediately.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Back to the meeting I just fled from,” he smirks a little. Y/N wants to tell him that that’s not fair. He can’t just storm over here, talking about making a move and then leave. What a – oh. Y/N purses her lips to stop the protest from leaving them, knowing she has no right to be angry at Jensen for giving her a taste of her own medicine. “I shall see you at the airport on Wednesday. Oh, and you should pack the things you bought today.” He flashes her a wink before turning on his heels and walking confidently down the hall. Y/N’s mouth is still wide open and she doesn’t break her trance until he’s left the building. Fuck, this vacation can’t come quick enough.

Y/N hasn’t felt this nervous since she and Jensen started this whole arrangement. It’s more anticipation than anxiety, but knowing that it’s coming had started to make her overthink things in the couple of days between Jensen showing up at her door and her meeting him at the airport. Without the teasing keeping her entertained, all she’s done is second guess if they’re really making the right decision. But as soon as she climbs out of the chauffeur car and walks towards the jet, seeing Jensen standing at the entrance at the top of the stairs, her worries seem to disappear, and all she feels is excitement for the vacation and to be spending an entire week with Jensen with no interruptions. When she gets to the top he greets her with a kiss on her cheek and leads her into the jet and over to the big plush leather seats either side of a table.

The flight is pleasant as they eat and drink some wine, chatting about random things until they land. The island is perfect, even better than Y/N imagined in her mind. The sand is almost pure white and so soft between her toes she’s starting to realise that bringing shoes was redundant. The ocean is the purest blue she’s ever seen, and the hut they are staying in is down a pier, surrounded by the water with a large panoramic view of the ocean ahead. There are two bedrooms in the hut, with a large luxury living area separating them and both bedrooms have ensuites with bathtubs that overlook the ocean. There’s a hot tub on the deck, and sun loungers too. Back on the main island sits a larger hut that homes the staff and the restaurant, where the chef is ready to take any food order they could possibly think of.

The entire island feels like a fantasy, and Y/N feels like the luckiest girl on the planet.

“Where would you like your bags, Ma’am?” one of the waiting staff asks her, her luggage at his side.

“Oh.” Y/N instinctively looks at Jensen, and Jensen smiles softly.

“The left bedroom, thank you,” he replies for her. The man nods politely and disappears, and Y/N is dying to ask the question of what bedroom Jensen is sleeping in, but then she notices his own luggage over his shoulder, in the doorway of the bedroom on the right, and she gets her answer, the disappointment setting in quickly.

“C’mere, let me show you something,” Jensen tells her gently, guiding her to the large glass wall that separates them from the ocean. As they get closer, Y/N notices that what looked like a window is a door, and Jensen slides it across so that the ocean is right there, just below the hut.

Jensen bends down and removes his shoes and socks, and as Y/N is already barefoot, she takes the hint and sits on the floor, dropping her feet into the pleasantly warm water. It’s so clear she can see the bottom, even though it looks deeper than she is tall. Jensen joins her side and reaches across to grab her hand, holding it softly. Y/N feels her cheeks heat up, but there’s still a niggle in her stomach as she remembers that Jensen has put her in a different bedroom.

“Do you come here often?” she asks instead.

“I’ve been a couple of times, with a friend.”

“A friend,” Y/N can’t help but tease.

“He is definitely just a friend,” Jensen confirms, laughing softly. “I don’t usually bring other people here.”

“You don’t?” Y/N asks, confused.

“This is a sacred place to me, I only share it with people I feel extremely comfortable with.”

“So urm, your friend and me, anyone else? Katie?” Y/N can’t help but ask next.

“No, just you and Jared.” Y/N can’t help but forget all about the luggage at Jensen’s declaration. She’s one of two people he trusts enough to bring here.

“Jensen?” Y/N breathes, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been recently,” she admits, looking down at her feet in the water.

“We’ve never talked about this before, because it would’ve been inappropriate, but if we’re gonna do this, there’s some things you should know about me,” Jensen begins, clearing his throat. “I like… control,” he admits, “and I like working for that control.” He’s being careful with his words, Y/N can tell from his tone, and she can’t help but smirk a little. “I like a bit of resistance, but ultimately knowing that I’m in charge.” He seems to be getting a little more confident with every statement, probably because Y/N isn’t pulling away, or freaking out. If anything, she’s only getting more and more uncomfortable. God, can this man be any more perfect? All he has to do is grab a guitar and serenade to her at sunset and she’s had it, all in for life. “The way I am with you, the way I’ve always been with you, isn’t really what I’m like… in other areas.”

“So you like it rough?” Y/N concludes, waiting to put him out of his misery of feeling awkward about talking about this. Jensen laughs, a little shocked at first but then nods his head. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Y/N bites her bottom lip and giggles.

“Well urm, me too,” she confesses, feeling her cheeks heat up. Now she’s talking about herself, she’s feeling just a little more reserved again. “And I like resisting, as you put it.” Jensen smirks at your comment and looks back out at the ocean. “Awesome,” he concludes, making her giggle again.

“But we’re gonna… work up to that, right?” Y/N checks.

“Of course. I was just telling you so you don’t feel bad about the last few weeks,” Jensen explains, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

“Okay, great,” Y/N nods, letting out a breath. “So the last few weeks were…”

“Absolute torture, and I am going to get you back,” Jensen finishes for her.

They laugh together for a moment, and she notices Jensen looking at her and stops, clearing her throat.

“So, you’ve got my explicit consent, and we’re doing this as you just put it… so why the separate bedrooms?” she asks quietly. Jensen looks over her shoulder at her bedroom in question and smirks softly.

“Like I said, I’m going to get you back,” Jensen smirks deeper.

“The whole week?” Y/N asks, her eyes widening. Jensen licks his lips and chuckles softly.

“I’m teasing,” he concludes. “I just figured that maybe us sharing a room might be a little… much. We haven’t even kissed yet. I mean… again, properly,” he corrects. Y/N bites her bottom lip, turning herself to face Jensen a little more.

“Why is that? Don’t you want to kiss me?” she jokes.

Jensen laughs and nods his head, “oh definitely. I guess I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”

“We’re literally sitting in a hut on a private island, looking at the entire ocean and the sun is about to set. So, Prince Charming, is this good enough for you or do you need candles and romantic music too?” Jensen smirks at her teasing, shaking his head softly.

“Don’t make me sound like a girl,” he pouts, and Y/N finds herself tilting her head to one side, leaning a little closer.

“Don’t act like one,” she sasses back, but her voice is quieter as the anticipation builds between them.

“Now you’re just being a brat because you know I can’t do anything about it yet,” Jensen replies, leaning closer himself.

“Well when I said slow, I didn’t mean this sl–”

Jensen’s lips smother hers, cutting her sentence short, and Y/N gasps for air and kisses back, deepening the kiss and licking against his lip. Jensen reaches up and grips the back of her neck, keeping her close as his tongue explores her mouth and she whimpers against his lips at his firm touch. This kiss is even better than the one they shared when Y/N was drunk, because now she knows that the full body tingles have nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with Jensen. The arousal coursing through her veins makes the anticipation she’s been feeling for weeks seem like child’s play now. Y/N breaks away just for air, her head feeling so light and fuzzy, even though she doesn’t want to stop kissing him at all.

“Okay, I don’t think I can handle any more slow,” she admits, out of breath, clawing at his t-shirt. Jensen chuckles, “thank god for that.”

“So you’ll move my luggage?” she asks against his lips, unable to resist the urge of kissing them again.

“Oh baby girl,” Jensen smirks, pulling her in tighter against him. “You’re not gonna need your clothes this week.”

Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie / @sexyvixen7

* * *

Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @eve-loves-apples / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl / @sacriceria / @pink-sparkly-witch / @justanotherficreader / @katbratsupernaturalwhore

* * *

Sweet as Sugar Tags: @woodworthti666 / @redbarn1995 / @firefly-in-darkness / @the-fandom-trash-fairy / @joseyrw / @dumb-bisexual / @danneelsmain / @kyoutos-kisses / @bobbie3939 / @ajreturnstocringeyaccount / @mskatharinak / @morgunsilver / @multifandomlover121

#Sweet as sugar #sugar daddy!Jensen #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #tell me a story bingo #slow burn #fluff #jensen x you #mini series #supernatural fanfic #rpf fanfic #spn fanfic #negans-lucille-tblr

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doctorofmagic · 3 years

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My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

#what if...?#doctor strange #stephen strange #what if doctor strange lost his heart instead of his hands?#wong #christine palmer #the ancient one #long post #review #he did nothing wrong #so what? he destroyed a whole universe #/j #benedict cumberbatch

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

Text

Unlucky in Love

masterlist

Gif credit to @ogledalo-moje-duse

Summary: Spencer is unlucky in love - until he isn’t.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive content

Word Count: 3.4k

Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. In his early twenties, Spencer often caught himself fantasizing about being on the receiving end of some great storybook romance straight out of one of the classic novels on his bookshelf. On the rare occurrence where his mind was able to slow down long enough, Spencer would daydream about what his future partner would be like. Would they share his fondness for the written word, or his penchant for foreign cinema? Would they find his tendency to go off on tangents endearing and his less than fashionable style of dress charming? Spencer liked to think so, but the likelihood of finding someone who could accept him despite all of his quirks seemed low.

But still he hoped, even though he knew hope was a dangerous thing. Hope gave life to the possibility of disappointment – and if there was one thing Spencer did not need more of, it was that.

Spencer Reid was in love with the idea of love – obsessed with the idea of his soul intertwining with someone else’s. But with his thirtieth birthday quickly approaching and absolutely no prospective love interests in sight, Spencer was feeling more than a little disheartened. It certainly didn’t help that everywhere he turned, love was running rampant. Hotch had Beth, Penelope had Kevin, Jennifer had Will, and Morgan had… any number of possible partners. Emily and Rossi were both unattached, but happily so in a way that Spencer just couldn’t quite manage.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like seeing the people around him happy – it was just that he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d finally get his chance at love.

A month before Spencer’s thirtieth birthday, everything changes.

When a member of Garcia’s victims’ support group goes missing, it’s all hands on deck at the BAU. It’s not that they’d give any less than one hundred percent on any other given day, but as with any case that hits close to home, everyone on the team is in a frenzy trying to put the pieces together. The thing that makes this case different is the fact that people from other departments are quick to lend a hand. It comes as no surprise to Spencer – Penelope is a social butterfly by nature. She made it her business to know and befriend everyone in the building. Her sunny disposition is hard not to love, and her current distress had garnered the support of more than a few non-team members.

By the time the case wraps up, the bullpen is much busier and, much to Spencer’s chagrin, much louder than usual. The steady influx of people has Spencer’s head spinning and he can’t seem to focus on the papers sitting in front of him. What should take him thirty seconds to read has almost taken twenty minutes, and at this point the words on the paper are all running together. Spencer knows that it doesn’t help that he’s running on less than three hours of sleep, as evidenced by the frequency of his yawns. Worse even is the fact that his coffee cup is empty and no, he thinks, that simply will not do. With a sigh Spencer pushes away from his desk, bones creaking as he stands.

With his coffee cup in hand, Spencer shuffles to the breakroom. He goes through the motions of preparing his drink, lazily stirring in the mountain of sugar before turning to leave.

Spencer supposes that if it weren’t for the fact that he was horribly sleep deprived, he would’ve seen you walking down the hallway. But alas, Spencer’s alertness had been compromised by poor sleeping habits, and he isn’t aware of your presence until his body is colliding with yours and his hot coffee is dripping down the front of your blouse.

“Ouch,” you whimper, and Spencer is immediately overwhelmed with guilt.

“O-Oh my God, I am so sorry,” he splutters. Without waiting for a response, Spencer’s rushing into the break room and procuring a thick stack of napkins. The part of his brain that controls logical thinking is apparently overrun by the onset of his mortification, and in an act of absolutely panic, he begins to dab at the stains with one of the napkins.

“I-I wasn’t looking where I was going. I’m so so sorry,” Spencer stutters out, frantically attempting to blot the stain. “I’ll give you money for a new shirt. A-Actually, you should probably take this one off. The best way to treat scalds is to immediately get the person away from the heat source. You should also run some cold water over it.”

In his hurry to rectify his mistake, Spencer hadn’t managed to take a good look at you. When his eyes leave the stain in favor of looking at your face, he prepares himself to see anger there. What he doesn’t expect is for your face to be just as flushed as his, with eye brows raised in shock.

Spencer also doesn’t expect this to be the moment he’s been waiting on his entire life, but one look into your eyes tells him this is it - this is your person.

Stunned into a stupor, Spencer stills, eyes boring into your own. You’re even more beautiful than he’d dared to let himself imagine, but in all honesty that didn’t matter much. What matters is the fact that there’s a faint hint of smile lines etched into your skin, and your eyes are so inherently kind that Spencer has no doubt that you’re as gentle as you are alluring. Your benevolence is also evidenced by the fact that you hadn’t immediately begun to yell at him, and for that he is thankful.

Spencer’s revelation renders him unable to form any semblance of thought, and before he knows it almost a solid minute of him gaping at you passes. You begin to squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.

“I, uh, appreciate the help, and you seem like a nice enough guy, but your hand is on my boob and I kind of make it a point to not let strangers touch the goods. So, if you don’t mind,” you stammer, looking pointedly at his hand that is still pressing a napkin to your chest. Spencer recoils as if he’s the one that’s been scalded.

“I-I didn’t mean to, um, t-touch your -,” Spencer gulps, “- chest. I swear I was just trying to get the stain out. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he chokes out. Spencer had imagined the moment he’d come face to face with his person a million times, and none of his daydreams had accounted for the possibility of him giving her second degree burns and inadvertently copping a feel. His emotions fell somewhere between mortification and elation.

“Mm likely story,” you murmur, lips upturning into a smile that has Spencer feeling weak in the knees. Spencer practically swoons. “Do you make it a habit to ask strangers to take their tops off, or am I just special?”

Oh God, had I really suggested that? Spencer cringes and wonders what good an IQ as high as his was when it seemed to fail him at times like these. Speaking to women had never been a specialty of his, despite Derek’s coaching, and Spencer was floundering to come up with an acceptable response.

You are the most special woman in the world, probably. Nope – too creepy, and Spencer definitely doesn’t want to scare you off. Not when he’s been waiting the better part of thirty years to meet you.

I didn’t mean to insinuate that you should take off your shirt, but I also wouldn’t particularly mind if you did. Even worse – that would certainly earn him a stern talking to from HR.

Spencer decides to go for the honest approach.

“I-I’m not sure how to answer that.”

His honesty draws a laugh from you, and Spencer loves the sound so much that he decides then that he’ll never tell a lie again. You shake your head at him and reach for the napkins that he still has clutched in his hands.

“What’s your name?” you ask him as you continue his earlier efforts to sop up the coffee.

It’s probably the easiest question he’s ever been asked. That doesn’t stop him from making a fool out of himself, though.

“I’m Doctor Spencer R-Reid. Uh, I’m Spencer. Y-You don’t have to call me Doctor.”

Someone please put me out of my misery.

Your eyes meet his again and he can tell that you’re holding back a laugh.

“Okay, then, Spencer,” you say as you discard the napkins in a nearby trash bin. “I’m Y/N.” You punctuate your words with an outstretched hand, and before Spencer can think better of it, the usual spiel come tumbling out of his mouth.

“The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss.”

Your lower your hand and cock your head to the side.

“Are you always this forward, Doctor Reid?” you tease him, eyes flashing amusedly.

“I-I didn’t mean that we should kiss,” Spencer interjects, cringing at the way his voice has suddenly raised in pitch. “N-Not that I wouldn’t kiss you! I-I’m sure that kissing you would be really n-nice. I just meant that… you know. Germs.”

Are you there, God? It’s me, Spencer. A hole opening up in the ground and swallowing me up would be great.

To Spencer’s delight, you don’t seem offended in the slightest.

“I cannot believe that they’ve been hiding you up here, Spencer Reid. I should’ve come to visit Penny years ago.”

Wait – what?

“You work here?”

You nod.

“I work on the floor below this one – sex crimes,” you explain.

“For how long?”

“Coming up on three years now.”

Three years. You’d been right under Spencer’s nose for three years and he hadn’t the slightest clue. You’d parked your car in the same parking garage and taken the same elevator as he! How many times had your paths nearly crossed in the last three years? If he’d been just a little bit earlier or a little bit later getting into work, might the two of you met earlier? The possibility of it was maddening.

“Oh, wow. I-I’ve never seen you,” Spencer mutters lamely. But miraculously, you don’t think he’s lame, if your response is any indication.

“Nor I you, Doc. It’s a shame, too. You’re a funny guy.”

Spencer Reid has been called a lot of things in his lifetime – funny was never one of them.

“Y-Yeah. I’m a real riot at parties,” he deadpans. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you hum, and Spencer really hopes that you mean it. “Would you mind escorting me to Penelope’s office?”

Spencer nods, and the two of you fall in step together. Spencer’s wracking his brain again for something – anything- he could say to fill the silence. Thankfully, you don’t seem quite as inept at conversing as he, and you beat him to it.

“You look a little young yourself, Spencer. How long have you worked here?”

“Uh, I’ve actually worked here for almost eight years. I started when I was twenty-two.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock.

“Twenty-two, huh? That makes you – what? Thirty now? I wouldn’t put you a day past twenty-five,” you muse, and Spencer isn’t quite sure what to make of that. You must pick up on the conflicted look on his face, because you clarify. “That’s a good thing, Doc. I hope I look as good as you do when I’m thirty.”

Spencer has to remind himself how to breathe.

“I’m not thirty yet. Technically I have twenty-three more days. I could have a rapid decline in attractiveness by then.”

Spencer’s not usually one to try to be funny, but she seems to have a good sense of humor and he wants to impress you in any way he can.

“I guess I’ll have to swing back by in twenty-three days and find out.”

The two of you come to a stop in front of Penelope’s office and Spencer tries not to look as disappointed as he feels. He doesn’t want your meeting to come to an end – not when there’s so much about you that he wants to know. He wants to ask about your opinion on books and obscure foreign films and most importantly, Spencer wants to know what you think about him. Did meeting him affect you in the same way it did him? Did you secretly wish to make this moment last, too?

Spencer wants to say so much, but he can’t. He’s too awkward and too scared and too nervous to find the right words. So instead, he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m sorry about your blouse. Can I please give you the money to buy a new one? I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

“Absolutely not. It’s really not that big of a deal. Didn’t even really care for the shirt, if I’m being honest. Red really isn’t my color.”

Spencer wants to tell you how wrong you are – that he’s infinitely certain that you’d look irresistible in any color – but he doesn’t.

You reach for the door knob, and Spencer’s shoulders slump.

“It was nice meeting you, Spencer.”

And then you’re gone, and Spencer can’t help but think that he royally fucked up the most important introduction of his entire life.

When Spencer envisioned how his life would look at age thirty, he’d imagined it being a lot different than it is now. He’d hoped to use his intelligence for something great – finding a way to cure Alzheimer’s had been his main aspiration. Yet, here he was, thirty years old with nothing more than three PhDs to his name. He’d accomplished nothing of great significance, and the idea of having wasted his intelligence was eating away at him.

In short, Spencer Reid was in a bit of a funk.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you since that fateful day in the bullpen. Spencer had contemplated paying you a visit, but the lingering embarrassment over his actions kept him from reaching out. He didn’t think he could handle how badly a rejection from you would hurt, so instead he sulked around the office and wallowed in his own self-deprecation.

Spencer’s birthday wasn’t something he tended to advertise. From a young age, he’d chosen to observe it silently. Usually, his mother would forget, and he never really had any friends to celebrate with, so the day was always rather unimportant to him. Perhaps he would order takeout and gorge himself on greasy food while he sat alone in his apartment. It had been good enough for him last year, and he supposed it would have to suffice this year as well.

He made it a point not to mention it to his coworkers, and the day passed by just as any other day. By the time five o clock rolled around, Spencer was waving a goodbye to his coworkers and heading out the door. As he waits for the elevator, he debates on whether to order Thai food or pizza for dinner.

Just as he settles on Thai, the elevator doors open.

“Oh, thank God, I was worried that you had left already!”

Before Spencer can get over the initial shock of seeing you, you’re stepping out of the elevator and into his space, an excited smile on your lips. And then you’re holding out your hand, and Spencer’s almost moved to tears when he sees you wielding a single chocolate cupcake.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d like chocolate or vanilla better, so I went with my gut. I get the feeling you’re a chocolate kind of guy,” you say, eyes shining as you look up at him. “So, was I right?”

“You brought this for me?” Spencer asks, voice barely above a whisper. He can’t fathom it – that you had spared him any thought past your initial meeting. Spencer had surely expected you to forget about him entirely. Either that, or you’d written him off as someone to be avoided.

You nod.

“Of course, I did. It’s your birthday. Everyone deserves something sweet on their birthday.” You pause, the smile dropping from your face. “It is your birthday, right? I didn’t miss it, did I?”

Spencer is slow to shake his head.

“N-No, you didn’t miss it. I’m just surprised you remembered.”

You chuckled softly.

“You’re very unforgettable, Doctor Reid,” you say, and Spencer’s heart flutters in his chest. “And you didn’t answer my question.” You gesture to the cupcake expectantly.

“Chocolate is my favorite,” Spencer breathes out, raising a shaky hand and taking it from her. “I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do this. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re turning thirty. That’s a very big deal, Doc.,” you argue, and Spencer gives you a tentative smile.

“If you say so.”

“I do,” you smirk, before hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “So, do you have any big plans to celebrate?”

The doors open and you and Spencer file into the elevator together– an event three years in the making.

“Not really. I was just going to order some food and stay in,” Spencer says before taking a bite of the cupcake. It tastes wonderful – better than a store-bought cupcake could ever be. This cupcake was undoubtably made from scratch, and the thought of you taking the time out of your day to bake something for him makes him feel weak at the knees. Pair that with the way you’re looking up at him and Spencer worries he might collapse.

“What kind of food?”

“Thai,” Spencer says around the mouthful of cake.

“Mm,” you hum. “You know – I happen to love Thai food. And I also happen to not have any plans for the evening.”

Even Spencer, who struggles to decipher the simplest of social cues, can deduce that you are insinuating that you want to spend the evening with him. He’s thankful, then, that he had already swallowed the bite of cupcake, because there’s no doubt in his mind that he’d have choked on it. Spencer gapes at you, but your gaze is unwavering and your body language gives no indication that you were joking.

“D-Do… Do you want to, uh, come over?” Spencer trips over his words more times than any grown man should, but in his defense, he isn’t exactly well versed in matters like this.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes.” Spencer answers so quickly that it should be embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Then in that case, I thought you’d never ask,” you sigh dramatically, and then the door opens up and you link your arm with his. “You know, I was beginning to think I’d never see you again. I’ve been driving Penelope crazy asking about you, Doc.”

“You’ve been asking about me?” Spencer asks, incredulous.

“Absolutely. It’s not every day that you meet a guy who has the audacity to feel you up and ask you to undress within the first five minutes. I just had to know more,” you tease, and Spencer can’t help but laugh. Despite the cold air of the parking garage, Spencer feels warm – warmer than he’s ever felt and he knows that it has everything to do with the way you’ve pressed yourself against his side.

“In that case, I’m very glad I spilled my coffee on you,” Spencer says and you let out a snort.

“Yeah, I could’ve done without that part. And the part where you called me germy.”

“I did not mean it like that,” Spencer insists. You hum and detach yourself from him, and Spencer instantly misses the contact.

“Because it’s your birthday, I’ll let you off the hook,” you announce, making your way to the other side of his car, all while never taking your eyes off him. “And if you’re lucky, birthday boy, I might just be willing to test that theory of yours.”

Spencer cocks his head to the side.

“Theory?”

You nod, and the smile that creeps across your face is the best birthday present he’s ever gotten.

“You said you thought kissing me would be nice. I think we should find out.”

Spencer Reid is, by most people’s definition, unlucky in love. But as he steals glances at you on the way to his apartment, his chest swells with a hope that maybe – just maybe – his luck is about to change.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer x y/n #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #fluff #fanfiction

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ohworm-writes · 3 years

Text

BNA: Brand New Animal Relationship Headcanons!

bna masterlist

‼ General Dating Headcanons ‼

Featuring: Shirou Ogami, Michiru Kagemori, Nazuna Hiwatashi, Marie Itami, Pinga

Warnings: spoilers for BNA!, some angst amongst all of them, but mainly tooth-rotting fluff :,)

a/n - thank you for reading!!! BNA doesn’t have enough fanfiction content, so here you go!! i actually adore doing headcanons, so this was nice to be able to write!!! BNA is also my favorite/comfort anime soooooo I couldn't NOT write something for it!!! if you want to see more BNA related works, i’m definitely going to be open to writing them in the future!!! my requests open up next week, so drop one then if you’d like!!! thank you for reading <3

content below the cut!

shirou ogami

» wolf husband!!

» oh we all know he’s gonna be nervous when it comes to love

» he’s scared he can’t trust you at first

» it’s probably gonna stay that way until he gets comfortable with you

» which, albeit, takes quite a while

» but when he does?

» he’s all over you!!

» i like to think he’s a very cuddly person

» he doesn’t show it a lot though, but for you?

» he’ll let it slide

» he’s not one for extravagant gestures though

» so if you’re going on dates

» expect it to being either at his place, or something extremely simple

» i don’t think he’d be particularly for PDA

» but if someone were to flirt with you?

» he won’t be afraid to show them that you’re with him

» again, very cuddly

» he likes to be big spoon cause he wants to make you feel safe

» but he also likes to be held

» the memories of his comrades dying is a memory that’s painfully engraved into the very fibers of his being

» so please show him some love

» kisses!!!!

» oh he LOVES to smother you with kisses

» he’s very affectionate in private

» he just loves you so much!!!

» i like to think that michiru got the two of you together

» just like

» michiru: hey look at that beastman over there! they’re super pretty!!!!

» shirou: yeah, sure

» michiru: i’m going to go say hi

» shirou: w h a t

» also, going back to trauma-

» he doesn’t like to talk about it much

» it brings up bad memories

» so he won’t outwardly talk to you about it

» but if you want to console him?

» you’re one of the few people he can really trust and get vulnerable with

» VERYYYY LOYAL PARTNER

» he loves you, and is so scared of you leaving him

» he would never think about cheating on you (the best boy)

» maybe it ties in with him being a wolf beastman-

» shhhhhhhhhhhh

» very very very nervous to tell you that he’s the silver wolf

» he’s so scared you’re going to leave him or hate him or look at him different

» but the sweet kiss you give him when he tells you melts all of his worries away

» GIVE HIM PETS!!!!!!!!!!

» he’s embarrassed but he loves it!!!!!!!!

» his love language is quality time!!!!!!

» he just wants to spend time with you

» he’ll go out of his way to blow off unimportant things (like michiru-) just to be with you

» softie-

» but we love him <3

michiru kagemori

» AHHH MY SWEET GIRL!!!!

» i love her oh so much

» if she likes you, it’s obvious

» painfully so-

» she gets all flustered before you start dating whenever she talks with you

» tripping over her words

» making a fool of herself

» (somehow more than usual-)

» but when you express you like her back?

» you’re stuck with her

» loves cutesy dates!!

» you wanna just watch a movie???

» she’s got a pillow fort and a ton of snacks at the ready

» you wanna go for a walk?

» you’re dancing with her under the stars in the park

» she’s a sucker for that kind of stuff

» she loves showing you off too

» michiru: everyone, this is my partner, y/n, and they are the best person in the world

» y/n: michiru i-

» she absolutely introduces you to everyone like that

» she loves you too much not to express it!!!

» that leads me to her love language…

» words of affirmation!!!

» she’s going to tell you she loves you at any chance she gets

» and if you’re ever insecure?

» she’s your girl

» she’s also big on physical touch

» loves holding your hand out in public

» hugging you and peppering your face with kisses

» the whole lot!

» she’s such a goofball-

» she’d do something stupid just to make you laugh

» michiru: Y/N! I GREW WINGS! AM I GOING TO LAY AN EGG OR SOMETHING???

» when she first told you she wasn’t a real beastman, she was nervous

» but it all washes away when you hold her and tell her you love her no matter what

» she’d definitely cry at that

» she’s so grateful to have you

» and she would go to any extent just to make you happy

nazuna hiwatashi

» GOD SHE’S SO PRETTY I’M NOT EVEN GONNA LIE

» she’s a very caring partner

» when you first start dating though, she’s very nervous

» will you hate her for faking the silver wolf?

» or maybe because of her slightly dismissive behavior?

» but when you decide to stay? she know’s shes in love

» her love language is touch!

» she always wants to be touching you

» she’s not the best at expressing her love or gratitude through words

» so she lets the soft caresses, forehead kisses, and cuddles do it for her!

» oh i can imagine her being a cuddle bug

» just holding you while the two of you fall asleep

» or you holding her!

» she adores just being able to be near you

» when she introduces you to michiru

» it’s chaos

» y/n: in my defense, I was left unsupervised

» nazuna: wasn't michiru with you?

» michiru: in my defense, I was also left unsupervised

» just being absolute idiots together

» back to nazuna though…

» she gets jealous easily!!!

» you can’t change my mind

» if she thinks you’re giving someone too much attention

» she won’t be afraid to just come in and hug you until you pay attention to her

» it’s adorable

» with the church of the silver wolf tho…

» you probably met AFTER that was all said and done

» she doesn’t really have followers anymore

» and a few beastman still hold a grudge against her

» she gets insecure because of it

» make sure to tell her that you love her for her

» she really needs to hear it

» oh! she loves any romantic gestures

» fancy dates? walks in the park? sign her up!

» she loves too much not to show it

marie itami

» crime weasel

» cbhmasbbchasb okay but seriously i love her

» i like to think that she’s sly with her flirting

» but if you flirt back?

» she’s a flustered mess

» she lovesssss pet names

» she particularly likes using “baby”, “love”, “sweetheart”, and “hun”

» loves if you use some back

» her love language? acts of service

» she loves to help you with small tasks

» opening the door for you? absolutely. grabbing the remote for you? of course!

» she wants you to know she loves you, but mainly in smaller gestures

» not as much of a cuddle bug as the rest, but definitely appreciates it

» she’d never turn you down for hugs or pecks

» any time she has by herself, she wants to spend it with you

» her dates aren’t extravagant though

» cuddling on the couch and watching a movie are her specialty

» i like to think that she usually falls asleep after you

» she’ll talk with you until you eventually fall asleep

» it’s more of a protective thing if anything

» she wants to make sure that you’re okay before she rests

» she loves you so so so much

» you’re the only person she’s allowed herself to be vulnerable with

» she has her own insecurities yes, but she tends to bottle them up

» she doesn’t want to bother you

» she’s better at listening and giving advice than venting it out

» it’s not your fault, she’s just not very keen to it

» she likes to keep your relationship more private than anything

» her job is… not normal, and she doesn’t want to eventually end up making the wrong people mad and get you hurt

» so PDA is kept to a minimum

» but she’ll always make up for that in private

» telling you how much she loves and appreciates you being with her

» she doubts your relationship sometimes, thinking that you deserve better

» tell her you love her

» that you really love her

» and her heart is yours

pingua

» your honor

» i love him

» oh my goodness his love language is totally gift giving

» 100%

» you cannot change my mind

» if you look at something in a store for more than 3 seconds

» expect it to be in your possession by the next day

» he won’t say he did it

» but he totally did it

» taking you on flights???

» yes pLEASE!!!!

» he loves showing you the world from his eyes

» and adores it if you love it as much as he does

» wing hugssssss

» imagine him just draping his wings around you while you guys cuddle

» my heart-

» wait, here me out-

» y/n: mcdonalds! mcdonalds! mcdonalds!

» pingua: mcdonalds! mcdonalds! mcdonalds!

» HE WOULD THOUGH AND YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND

» not afraid to get vulnerable with you

» he’ll talk about his comrades and the stupid regulations with ease

» yes, it’s a tough subject

» but you have to talk about difficult things to get through them

» he has nightmares because of it

» he wakes up in cold sweats sometimes, those images ingrained into his head

» hold him

» please

» tell him that you’re here and you’re not going anywhere

» give him kisses and help him ride it out

» aside for that, another goofball

» loves, and i mean LOVES making you smile

» also a HUGE flirt

» he’s cocky about it too

» pingua: aside from being adorable, what do you do for a living?

» y/n, dying: cjsdbivcbhshdkcjbakjcbhsadbmc

» another one who loves romantic gestures

» i like to think that he’s quite the gentleman

» restaurant dates and dancing are right up his alley

» but dear god he loves you so much

» he has no clue where he’d be without you in his life

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drowningbydegrees · 4 years

Text

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Read on AO3

He can’t remember the last time waking up was a remotely soothing experience. Geralt’s sleep muzzy mind has no other word for the body plastered against his front from shoulder to hip, the steady heartbeat against his palm where his hand is splayed out across someone’s chest. His nose is tucked against the nape of someone’s neck, and the scent is far too familiar to be jarring.

“Jaskier,” he rumbles quietly, his mouth miles ahead of the rest of him. The quiet, absent pleasure of waking up tangled with someone who smells sleepy and content and like they’re his leaves no room for reason. There’s no room for anything really, except to press a kiss to whatever patch of skin he can find, savoring the soft sigh it earns him.

Jaskier is… The night before rushes back to him, and Geralt almost jerks away, even though it would be entirely pointless to bother with that now. He cracks an eye open and is met with the disaster that Jaskier’s hair, mussed in the night by sleep, and by Geralt’s fingers buried in it before that. Even as worry begins to creep in, he sort of wants to do it again.

This isn’t the first time they’ve shared a bed. This probably isn’t even the hundredth time they’ve shared a bed. This is most definitely the first time they’ve done so with so little clothing between them, none to be exact. There’s only the blanket tucked around them both, warm and lovely and unexpectedly distressing.

Geralt isn’t sorry, per se. Jaskier’s chest rises and falls under Geralt’s palm in the slow rhythm of sleep. It’s the loveliest thing Geralt can remember waking up to, and therein lies the problem. An emotion fed only grows, and this unruly, sprawling affection is the worst offender. Stupidly, Geralt had thought getting this out of his system would quell it, but the longing reaches a fever pitch instead.

Jaskier is beautiful, all the more so for the way he shifts in his sleep, closing the gap Geralt has tried to put between them. Geralt could happily wake like this every day for the rest of his life, but it isn’t a fair thing to ask of someone who flits from one love to the next like a butterfly between flowers. He will not trap Jaskier in this just because he happens to be besotted. Somehow, the resolve not to try to keep this does nothing to ease the guilt welling up that he wants to in the first place.

Nothing Jaskier said the night before conveyed meaning beyond a playful desire to tumble into bed together. Moving the target now would only be cruel. He should be rolling out of bed, hastening them back to normal. He should be proving that this has done nothing to harm their friendship. It isn’t Jaskier’s fault, after all, the way Geralt wants to breathe him in and kiss him senseless and forget the rest of the world until the innkeeper boots them out.

“Geralt?” Jaskier startles the witcher from his worries, wriggling impossibly closer and laying a palm over his knuckles. “You okay?”

“Thinking,” Geralt replies vaguely.

“Well, don’t hurt yourself,” Jaskier teases, still warm and lethargic with sleep. Geralt almost manages to take advantage of the levity of the moment and extricate himself, but before he can, Jaskier rolls over so they’re nearly nose to nose. His fingers cradle Geralt’s cheek and any attempt to escape now would just be graceless. “What about?”

Geralt doesn’t know how to answer, so he only hums noncommittally and hopes Jaskier will let it lie. Of course, Jaskier being Jaskier, does no such thing. He takes advantage of the change in positions to tangle his legs up with Geralt. “I can’t tell you to knock it off if you don’t tell me what it is.”

“We should get going.” Geralt tries once more to escape, frowning when Jaskier shows no sign of releasing him. It’s silly of course. Jaskier couldn’t hope to hold him here if Geralt was set on leaving. He just can’t actually make himself do it.

“Was it that bad a night?” It’s an easy opening, an invitation to stray back to their usual banter, but Geralt gets no further than a raised eyebrow before Jaskier is clasping a hand over the witcher’s mouth. “Wait. Don’t answer that or I might have to smother you with a pillow and that’ll just be unfortunate for both of us.”

Right there, with Jaskier smiling at him, Geralt can almost believe they’re going to survive this. Almost, but almost still leaves a distance he cannot cross. As soon as Jaskier pulls his hand back from Geralt’s mouth, the witcher opens it. “They’re not going to let us sleep in forever.”

“They might if I convince them to let me play again this evening. We could move on tomorrow,” Jaskier ventures, but something in Geralt’s face must give him pause. “Oh do not look at me like that. The world isn’t going to end just because you stop to take a breath once in a while, Geralt.”

“That’s not…” Geralt starts, but he doesn’t know how to finish. There are no words that convey the razor wire sensation of facing down the impermanence of Jaskier’s affections, of realizing how deeply his own feelings run far too late.

“Shh.” Geralt knew what to do with impulse, with Jaskier’s mouth crashing into his, with Jaskier’s hands scrabbling at him to shed his clothes. He doesn’t know what to do with the tender, intentional way Jaskier regards him this morning, lips pressing to the witcher’s brow and lingering afterwards. Does it mean something, or does Jaskier grant all his lovers this subdued, aimless devotion? Lust was so much simpler than this aching sort of affection that puts down roots even as Geralt tries to burn it away.

Geralt doesn’t precisely surrender, but he resigns himself to the lazy attention Jaskier is so determined to lavish on him. If he lets Jaskier turn him away later instead of now, there will be at least this one pleasant thing to remember. So he doesn’t complain at Jaskier’s fingers combing through his hair, or the bard’s body pressed warmly to his. If every touch feels like a harbinger of their demise, it’s still hard to let go of.

He almost passes things off as okay, he thinks, until Jaskier kisses him. It’s a brief thing, immediately withdrawn. “Geralt?”

If realizing the hopeless situation he’s stumbled into was uncomfortable, the idea of talking about it is nothing short of torture.

“Well, you haven’t shoved me out of bed yet, so you’re not mad. Talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, his expression so openly concerned and affectionate, Geralt could scream.

“It’s no-” Geralt starts, but Jaskier shut him up with a theatrically sour look.

“I swear if you say nothing,” Jaskier threatens aimlessly, an easy smile on his lips, but underneath, Geralt can hear the way his anxious heart threatens to vibrate right out of his chest.

“I don’t know what this is,” Geralt admits because that, at least, is safe. It’s nothing about how he feels in relation to anything. It’s nothing about the want that simmers under the surface despite his guilt.

Jaskier’s brows scrunch in a way that would be endearing if the entire ordeal didn’t feel so fraught already. “I don’t think I follow. I mean, I know having a conversation isn’t your usual wheelhouse, but it’s not exactly a foreign concept.”

“Not. That.” Geralt bites the words out, tight and clipped while he gathers his frayed nerves enough to explain. “You’re not in the habit of keeping people. I don’t know what you want.”

For just a second, Jaskier looks like he’s been struck and Geralt wants desperately to take the whole thing back. But the bard’s expression smooths out and then twists up in a wry smile. “Of course I don’t. What would I even do? Drag someone else along on our travels?”

There’s a point Jaskier is making. It’s right there. He knows it is, but it eludes Geralt anyway. “You could have stayed somewhere if there was someone you wanted to stick around for.”

Jaskier laughs, just a giggle at first, and then so hard that even his efforts to bury his face against Geralt’s shoulder do nothing to stifle it. “You are absolutely right. I could fall completely and utterly in love with someone and choose to stick around.”

“I don’t see how that’s funny,” Geralt says flatly, staring at the far wall of their room. The urge to curl around Jaskier and forget the whole stupid conversation in strong, and maybe he’d have been better off doing that in the first place, but he doesn’t surrender to it.

“Well, you’re one of the smartest people I know, so these moments where you decide to be an absolute idiot happen to be hilarious,” Jaskier teases. The bard must take pity, because his palm slides to cradle Geralt’s jaw, and Jaskier puts himself right at eye level where the witcher can’t look away. “Don’t you realize? I fell in love with someone, and I chose to stick around. It happened ages ago.”

Geralt has long since given up on trying to anticipate what Jaskier will say to any given prompt, but that is… somehow not even on the same continent as anything he might have expected. “What?”

“You really are determined to make this as difficult and stressful for me as possible, aren’t you?” Jaskier asks. There’s a tightness around his eyes when he looks at Geralt, leaving the witcher with the awful realization that Jaskier must be flying as blind as he is. He’s probably as unsure of Geralt’s intent as Geralt is of his. And yet… “I chose you, you ridiculous man. I always choose you.”

That… that explains a lot, actually. Geralt swallows thickly as Jaskier’s nose bumps against his. “Why didn’t you ever say?”

“Ah yes. ‘Hello my very dear emotionally… hampered witcher who will sometimes, on a very good day, admit that we are friends. Would it it complicate things overly much if I also happened to be completely, utterly in love with you?’” Jaskier huffs out a helpless, almost panicky sort of laugh. “Tell me Geralt, is there any time in the last few years where that would have gone well?”

Years? Now, confronted with the full force of it, Geralt isn’t sure how he even missed it last night, let alone for so long. Now that he knows it’s always been a bit painfully obvious. And much as he’d like to, he can’t really argue against Jaskier’s point that it probably wouldn’t have gone well to say so. “What changed?”

Jaskier sighs in that dramatic, overdone way he tends to when he’s being asked what he thinks is an exceedingly silly question. “You did.”

“Hmm.” Geralt doesn’t comment and Jaskier doesn’t press for further conversation. It’s peaceful, this thing blossoming between them, now that his most immediate concerns have been silenced.

That Jaskier laid his heart on the line and asked for nothing back isn’t lost on Geralt though. The words catch and stick on his throat, so Geralt writes them into the tender way he traces the curve of Jaskier’s spine with his fingertips. He presses them against Jaskier’s lips, jaw, throat with lazy, lingering kisses.

“So tell me-” Jaskier starts, the words interrupted by a soft sigh as Geralt’s thumb skims the divot of his hip. It’s an unmistakably promising sound all by itself, even ignoring that delightful way Jaskier presses into the touch. He finishes his thought, but it’s unmistakably breathless. “What are you thinking now?”

The recognition that this isn’t some fluke settles warmly around him. This could be always. There are so few things a witcher really keeps, but for now he’s willing to entertain the notion that this might be one of them.

“I’m thinking…” Geralt mumbles against the side of Jaskier’s neck, delighting in the way the bard’s fingers tangle in his hair and tug. “That maybe we’ll leave tomorrow.”

#geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #gerlion #the witcher #my fic #They're both dumb and I love them #They may not have been remotely related to what I meant to write this month #But hey I posted stuff three days in a row and it's not even Nano month yet

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