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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

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superheroes and flat caps | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!actress!reader word count: 9.4k words (i'm not sorry) request: yes, by anons: “hi babes, can i request a max v piece where you two met in monaco 2021 and you hit it off and became best friends and then started dating in december after he won the championship and your relationship wasn't public but there were speculations (reader is a famous singer and actress) and then miami gp 2022 after his win max just kisses the reader and thus outs them? 🥺” & “how about a fic of being best friends with max but he has such a soft spot for the reader and they pretty much act like a couple? 🥺” & “helloo! could i maybe request a fic where max is teaching the reader how to drive a manual. like it would just be super cute and fluffyyy. also, i really love your workss ❤️” & “hi can i request something where reader has a really bad panic attack and no one can help her calm down but max? warnings: this is really freaking long and i haven't slept in like 24 hours. not proofread bc i really wanted to post this rn. language, time skips, mentions of j*s verstappen, h*rner, m*rko. drinking(legal), idk what else. a/n: well that was an interesting weekend.

my masterlist

(post-race max supremacy)

may 20th, 2021.

the first time she set foot in monaco, she didn’t know what to expect. she’d been invited to the f1 race weekend in monte carlo, which was both nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time. she was new to all the glitz and glamour of fame, and she only had what she’d seen in movies as reference to how monaco was.

she had the vip pass hanging from her neck, since she hadn’t been invited by a team specifically, she was free to roam around wherever she wanted to, which was nice, but at the same time, she didn’t have one specific spot that she could claim as hers. she was walking through the paddock, spotting many a-list celebrities, most of them probably didn’t even know who she was, but her fans did recognize her.

“hi, can we take a picture with you?” two girls about her age stopped her, she smiled and nodded.

“of course!” she grinned at the camera waving at the girls as they left, she took a step back, stumbling into a person passing by, “oh, god, i’m so sorry!” she apologized quickly, seeing a guy wearing a red bull polo and cap, she recognized him, it was the red bull racing star, max verstappen. “sorry, i didn’t look where i was-”

“it’s okay, don’t worry,” he gave her a small smile, she felt her cheeks heat under his stare, “are you lost?” he asked.

“uh, i actually don’t have anywhere to go, i don’t really know where i’m supposed to be,” she chuckled, feeling a small knot of nerves in her stomach. “i wasn’t invited by a team and it’s my first time here and-” she took a deep breath, “and now i’m rambling and wasting your time, i’ll find my way eventually, don’t wo-”

“you can come with me if you want,” he offered.

“oh no, i’m sure i’ll be fine,” she shook her head, taking a step back, accidentally colliding with another person, “sorry!” she apologized again, feeling more embarrassed than ever.

“really, i think it will be better for the whole paddock if you crashed in the red bull garage,” he chuckled. she covered her face with her hands, laughing lightly, “come on, we don’t bite,” he winked at her, she nodded after a few seconds, a small smile on her face.

“are you allowed to bring in strangers to the garage, though?” she asked.

“well, you’re not a stranger, everyone here knows who you are!” he smiled.

“wha- you do?”

“of course! one of my best mates is a huge marvel nerd and he made me watch the show you’re in,” he laughed. “i liked it, didn’t understand much of it, but i enjoyed it. and your character, you were my favorite,” he nodded, and the heat in her cheeks intensified.

“thank you, i wasn’t too sure if the public would like me, or the character, but-”

“are you kidding? you were the best part of the show. i didn’t really connect with the story at first. the whole, switching decades and references to old sitcoms was neat and all, but there was something missing, i was about to change and put another show or film but when i saw your face on the screen i just knew things were about to get interesting,” she was left speechless, then a huge grin formed slowly on her lips.

“thank you,” she said, biting her lip as she felt a funny feeling in her stomach. they reached the red bull hospitality, he let her in first, her eyes went a little wide as she saw everything. “this is nice,” she said.

“yeah, much better than anything else you could find out there,” he winked, again. she laughed, nodding.

“maybe,” she said.

it was pretty early, and they still had a few hours left before he had to prepare for the first practice session. he invited her to his driver’s room.

“you can wait there if you don’t want to be bothered by anyone while i’m gone,” he said, and it made her feel warm inside, that even though they had only just met he was already looking out for her.

they talked about anything and everything they could think of, finding out they had more in common than they thought at first. her anxiety disappeared as she got to know max, it was like talking to an old friend. the jokes started mere minutes after they sat down next to each other.

she told him about her switch from singing to acting, a scary process that made her doubt her skills.

"i've only been doing this for a short time, it was risky because i could've lost everything i have, but i think it worked out in the end," she still couldn't believe how much her life had changed in just two years. her rise to fame came thanks to her music, but when she told her manager that she wanted to try acting as well, and the opportunity to be part of such an ambitious show like ‘wandavision’ was a once in a lifetime opportunity. plus, the character she performed was one that nobody really expected. a female version of an iconic character was something that raised eyebrows at first, "did you always know that racing is what you wanted to do?" she asked,

"it's really not like i had any other choice, of course i enjoy doing it, and i have from a young age, but there was never really a plan b for me. i have been surrounded by this my entire life and it's what comes natural for me. i don’t really know what else i could do. but now we’re here, and i have a chance at winning the championship. that’s the goal,”

“is it your goal, though?” she asked, the words slipped out of her lips without thinking twice, and she only noticed what she’d said after she noticed that max didn’t reply for a few seconds. “i mean, are you really doing this for yourself, or because you feel like you have to do this to get your parents’ approval? but you obviously do have the passion and love for it, otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it.”

“no, you- you’re right,” he admitted, “of course, at first i was really influenced by my dad, especially, i wanted to make him proud, and hopefully achieve what he couldn’t, but it’s become my life now. it’s what i love, it’s what i want to do, now i’m doing this for me.”

“you don’t have to explain yourself to me, i didn’t-”

“no, no, you’re okay, haven’t had a deep talk like this with someone in a while.” he chuckled, she smiled.

“so, what happens today?” she asked, crossing one leg over the other, she leaned back against the couch in his driver’s room.

“we have free practice 1 and 2 in a bit, with a few hours break between each. practice is when we learn the track, even if you’ve been here before you still need to see how this year’s car will perform, but you have to be careful with all the tight corners, you don’t want to mess up your car, especially tomorrow before qualifying,” he explained.

“that’s when you figure out which order you’re starting on sunday?” she asked, even though her knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast, some of the things she’d researched stuck with her.

“yeah,” he nodded. “there’s still some time left before fp1, why don’t we go down there? i can show you around,” he offered.

“oh, no, i- i don’t want to- you should probably start getting ready and i don’t know, train? before you get in the car, and-”

“you ramble a lot,” he noticed, “it’s cute,” he smiled. again, she felt her cheeks getting warm. “here’s a thing about me, if i didn’t want to do something, i wouldn’t offer. so, come on,” he got up, offering his hand. she thought about it for a second, but smiled, placing her hand in his as she got up.

“but you have to tell me when you need to leave, okay? i might be new to this but i can also take care of myself. and, i don’t want to be the reason you don’t perform well today,” she followed him out of his room, walking down the stairs.

“you can just stay in the garage if you want to,” he shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing, “wait, you should wear this,” he said, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, “there. and if anything, your presence there will just be another reason for me to try my best.”

“i never thought you’d be a sweet talker,” she let out a chuckle as they reached the garage.

“there’s a lot of things no one knows about me, schat,” he raised his eyebrows, a big smile on his face.

“oh, we’re starting with the nicknames so soon? okay. i’ll come up with something for you, then,” she chuckled.

“i’m sure you will, quicksilver,” he said, she rolled her eyes. her character in ‘wandavision’ was a female version of pietro maximoff, from a different universe, it certainly caught people’s attention, especially with the presence of the other pietro already in the show.

“that could be your nickname, though. you know, because you go really fast in the car,” she explained, lifting an eyebrow.

“we’ll both be quicksilver, then,” max nodded, and so did she, “okay,”

“okay.” she agreed, “now, teach me your nerdy f1 ways,”

the media was so confused after that thursday. both she and max were approached separately during the whole weekend, asking if they knew each other from before, what their relationship was like.

it was refreshing to create a bond with someone new so easily. it truly felt like they’d known each other in their past lives. they got along from the moment she stumbled into him, they could bounce off the other’s jokes, they created a chaotic environment in the red bull garage, -a band that granted her access to the garage now secured around her wrist-, one they hadn’t seen since 2018 when daniel and max were still teammates.

when max was gone, though, she hid back in her shell. but with him next to her, she didn’t care who was watching, he brought out the best of her.

may 22th, 2021.

he’d explained the day before how much he wanted to get a podium in monaco, it was his home now, and since starting his f1 career he’d never had the chance to step on the podium.

“your time will come, you just have to be careful,” she told him before the saturday qualifying session. “i’m sure it’ll come eventually. maybe even tomorrow, but you know you’ll have more chances here,” she reminded him, he nodded his head.

“i don’t know why i’m surprised that you’re good with speeches, you basically write poems for a living,”

“i know, i know, i’m the best,” she batted her eyelashes, making him laugh and throw an arm around her shoulders.

“it’s insane that we only met yesterday,” he said.

“i know. i’m not complaining, though,” she chuckled.

“yeah, me neither,” he let out a deep breath. “weekends will be boring from now on, without you here,”

“aw, but haven’t you heard that distance makes the heart grow fonder?” she teased, taking max’s cap from a nearby chair and putting it on.

“that’s bullshit, distance only creates issues.” he scoffed, she frowned.

“you really think so?” she asked, throwing her legs over his lap, her back against the arm of the couch.

“it’s what i’ve experienced,” he said, his voice low. she noticed him tensing as he spoke, so she didn’t pry anymore.

“well, maybe it won’t be like that this time,” she smiled at him. he turned his head to look at her, to her hopeful eyes, and he couldn’t help but smile at her, too. he even felt his cheeks flushing.

“thirty minutes, max!” the knock and call from outside of his driver’s room startled them both, she started laughing at her own reaction, to avoid embarrassment.

“i have to get ready,” he said, patting her knee and lifting her legs as he got up, only to place them back down on his couch. he walked to a small closet where he kept his fireproof undershirt and pants, he took them out and placed it on the massage table set against the wall. without muttering a word, he started taking off his shirt.

“whoa! a little warning, please!” she covered her eyes with her hands, hearing his laugh.

“oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal,”

“well, let me tell you, mr. verstappen, that guys usually take me out on a couple of dates before i see them shirtless,” she stood up, peeking from behind her fingers, seeing his naked back toward her. she walked to him and slapped his head, snickering as she heard a loud ‘ow!’ from the dutchman. “perv,” she smiled, walking to the door.

“are you mad?” he asked, she turned to look at him, opening the door. she shook her head side to side, the same grin on both of their faces. “hope you enjoyed the show!” he said as she took a step out of his room, his fireproof undershirt in his hands.

“quali is supposed to be the show, max! i’ll be in the garage, magic mike,” with that she shut the door, she heard max’s loud laugh, a small chuckle left her lips as she felt her cheeks warm. that seemed to be the permanent state of her face when she was around max.

may 23rd, 2021.

“what are you doing?” max asked, she had her hands on his shoulders, her eyes closed.

“i’m passing all my quicksilver superpowers to you,” she replied, a small smile on her face. she’d noticed he was quite nervous before the race, and she wanted to show her support for her new friend.

“you do know that’s just in the show, right?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice. she peeked one eye open, seeing a big grin on his face. she patted herself on the back mentally, it was working.

“shut up, do you want the powers or not?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she stayed with shut eyes.

“fine,” he said.

she felt nervous as she walked alongside the red bull team to the podium. she didn’t really know anyone, but max had asked for her presence.

‘if i get a podium, no matter where i finish, i’d like to see you there.’ he told her before the race started. she felt the same funny feeling from friday in her stomach. she only nodded her head, letting him get back to his pre-race training.

and not only had he scored his first monaco podium, but he’d also won the race. the mechanics noticed her, and parted so she could squeeze her way through, so she was now against the barriers. she watched as max parked the car in front of the ‘1’ board, he turned off the car and took out the steering wheel so he could get out, placing it back after he got up.

the loud cheers from the people around her made her smile, she found herself doing the same. max congratulated the other two podium finishers, and finally, he made his way to his team. he jumped and they held him up, clapping his back, his helmet, his arms. even his butt. she laughed, watching as he took his helmet off, walking to her.

“i don’t want to say the powers worked, but…” she didn’t get to finish her sentence, as max wrapped his arms around her frame and pulled her as close to him as possible. she hugged him, hiding her face in his neck.

“thank you for your superpowers, quicksilver,” he said. she felt his breath on her ear, he sounded sincere. “thanks to you i won the race today,” she felt small tears in her eyes as she heard his words.

“no, you did all this by yourself, max.” she said, and max leaned back. he noticed the small tears in her eyes. “but you can keep the superpowers for as long as you need them,” she smiled, unwrapping his arms from him, letting him go to his post-race interviews and podium celebrations. he tapped the cap she was wearing, she winked at him.

june 24th, 2021.

“what do you mean you don’t know how to drive?” max asked, she rolled her eyes.

“manual. i don’t know how to drive a manual,” she corrected, kicking him.

“well you’re lucky your best friend drives for a living,” max said, standing up and offering his hand.

“aw, so you’ll be my chauffeur from now on?” she teased, smiling.

“i already am and don’t even get paid,” he shook his head, grabbing her hand and lifting her back from her bed. “i’m teaching you how to drive,” he declared.

“no, max, i’m fine with only knowing automatic,” she protested, but max was already walking to her luggage and grabbing a pair of shoes for her.

“you never know when you’ll need it,” he said, kneeling in front of her as he helped her put on her shoes, “come on, cinderella,” he picked her up by the waist and started walking with her in his arms.

“put me down!” she laughed, “where are you even going to teach me how to drive?” he put her down, and gave her a stern look. “oh, no! no, we’re not going to-”

“are you ready?” max asked, they both had helmets on, she had a frown on her face.

“i hate you,” she whispered, turning on the car. she was aware of the cameras set up all over the car, recording everything they said or did. “go on,” she took a deep breath.

“hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. i know it’s probably too late, but you can still back out, or i can go first,”

“no, you were right, i have to learn at some point. and i guess you’re the best teacher anyone could ask for,” she replied. max was looking at her, and there was something in his eyes, something she hadn’t seen before. like a sparkle, a gleam.

“i’m glad you feel that way,” he smiled. “ready?” he asked, she nodded, smiling at the camera. “hello, guys. max here, and today i’m joined by my friend, (y/n) (y/l/n),” he pointed at her, she waved to the camera, smiling. “we are here in austria, on the red bull ring track, because today i will be teaching (y/n) how to drive.”

“a manual!” she clarified, throwing him a dirty look, “i do know how to drive automatic, but this dork insists that i need to learn how to drive a manual as well. so here we are, pleasing the diva,” max rolled her eyes at his words.

“anyway, hope you guys enjoy. and pray for me,”

“shut up!” she laughed, slapping his arm.

it was already nerve-wracking enough to be driving with a literal professional racing driver next to her, but add to that the fact that they were in an f1 track, with dozens of people watching. she was nervous, and he could see that.

“so we’ll start slow, there’s really not much of a difference, you just need to coordinate the gear change and your feet.” he explained.

max was, surprisingly, a really great teacher. she didn’t know if it was because she was the student, but soon enough she found herself speeding on the main straight.

“brake, slowly, and switch,” he said a few seconds before she had to do it, so she had enough time to react and not screw up the beautiful honda car they were lent.

“am i doing it?” she asked, thinking out loud.

“you are, look at you!” max smiled, tapping the hand she had wrapped around the stick shift. “and you said you didn’t want to learn,” he turned to look at her, seeing an adorable frown between her brows, what he’d deemed as her concentration face.

“max, i’m driving a manual!” she squealed, her eyes flicking between the road ahead and her best friend sitting next to her.

“i told you, you could do it, schatje,” the nickname slipped from his lips easily, she’d taken a liking to the word since the first time she heard it. she liked it when she heard him say it, specifically. “there you go, keep going. if you can handle the curves you’ve got it,” he continued telling her what to do, and soon enough they finished their first lap. there was an excited smile on her face, and a proud look on his. “you’ve got it,” he clapped his hands as they approached the spot where they had started.

“that was really fun,” she had both hands on the wheel now, gripping so tight that her knuckles were turning white. “i feel like my heart’s coming out of my chest,” she chuckled, placing a hand on her chest. “thank you,” she smiled, her cheeks hurting.

“you might give me a run for my money,” he leaned his head, covered by the helmet, against the headrest, face turned her way. she chuckled as she did the same. they both stayed quiet, the comfortable silence speaking louder than any words both of them could’ve said at that moment. the only thing they could hear were their deep breaths, “i have an idea, let’s switch,” max said, unbuckling his seatbelt and running to the other side of the car. he opened the door for her, helping her out, “are you ready for your own hot laps experience?” he told her, her eyes widened.

“are we allowed?” she whispered, he bumped his helmet against hers. they were both wearing the same design, the same as his racing helmet.

“who cares?” he asked. she smiled at him, standing on her tiptoes and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before rushing to where max was sitting before. they buckled their seatbelts, twin mischievous grins on their faces as they watch the confused stares from people outside. photographers, people from media outlets, the red bull marketing team. “ready?”

“let’s go, quicksilver,” she smiled, she hadn’t called him that in a few weeks. her back was flat against the seat, she bit her lip as she tried to contain an excited squeal.

“don’t hold back, schatje, let it out,” he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye. she shook her head slightly, and max chuckled, going even faster. and this time, she did let out a loud laugh.

“you’re going too fast!”

“you want me to slow down?” he asked between his own chuckles.

“no!” she continued laughing. “i trust you,”

august 14th, 2021.

she furrowed her eyebrows as she locked her phone, tossing it inside her bag. she hadn’t received a text from max since the day before, and she was starting to worry. everytime they were apart for more than two weeks, she thought back to what he said the day after they met, about distance only screwing things up.

they hadn’t seen each other in almost two months. after the first weekend in austria she had to fly back to atlanta to film a movie. her first marvel movie. max had been so excited when he found out that they’d added her character at the last minute, changing the original script to feature her.

june 30th, 2021.

“i have to leave tomorrow,” she said, and his face fell. “i’m sorry, i know i promised to be here for the two races here, but i-”

“it’s okay, you can’t turn this down, i understand.” he gave her a small smile, but he barely lifted the corners of his lips.

“i feel bad,” she pouted, and max wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“don’t. this is something that we have to celebrate,” he pushed aside his feelings, he had to be a good best friend for her, just like she’d done many times for him. “we should go out," he said.

"out, where?" she asked.

"to party, you're going to be in your first major film. i can call some of the guys and tell them to meet us in a club or something," max pulled out his phone, he started scrolling through his contacts, she placed her hands on his.

"i don't need anyone else," she said, "i will have as much fun just with you then with a hundred people. i don't care how many celebrities, fans, or people in general are there to celebrate my accomplishments if you're not there."

the next morning, she woke up with a pounding headache and an arm around her waist. a strong chest was rising up and down, pressed against her back. she tried to turn around, but stopped once she felt someone breathing on her neck. she looked down, recognizing the hand that was holding her back.

she wanted to smile, to voice out the feelings inside her chest as she saw max cuddling her in his sleep. instead, she swallowed, pushing the feelings aside. carefully, he removed his arm from her, replacing her body with a pillow that he could hold on to. she checked the time, it was still early. once she heard max snoring lightly again, she stepped in the shower of her hotel room, she didn’t wash her hair to save time. she changed into sweats and a hoodie. she would’ve picked one of his hoodies, but he usually didn’t wear them. instead, she picked up one of his caps, adjusting the strap in the back and putting it on.

max woke up to an empty bedroom about two hours later, a text waiting for him.

‘had to run! thank you for last night, i had so much fun. good luck on your race, quicksilver!’

she landed in atlanta about 18 hours later, after a layover in london. she was exhausted, the entire flight she could only think about max. about the way they danced like no one was watching them, as if they were the only people in the world. she thought about the way he stared at every guy who even thought about looking her way, sending them a death stare that kept them away. she thanked him by brushing his hair away from his face, placing her hand on his cheek and rubbing it softly.

she arrived in her hotel, seeing her agent waiting for her there.

“i’ve been trying to call you,” was the first thing he said. she frowned.

“my phone died on my way here,” she pulled out her phone, seeing the black screen, “why? what happened?” she asked. her agent shook his head, handing her a black card.

“here’s your room key, 20th floor, room 33. get some rest, rehearsals start tomorrow. and please, don’t stay awake too late, the walls here are thin,” he said before walking away. now she was really confused. she stepped in the elevator, pushing the button for the 20th floor. after the doors opened, she looked for the door with the number 33 on it. she sighed, thinking about max again.

she didn’t expect to find the lights of her hotel room on. and she didn’t expect to hear someone talking.

“i know. i will be there in time, i promise.” she must’ve been hallucinating. he couldn’t- “yes, christian, i know. i will be in the car by the time fp1 comes around, that’s the only thing that matters,”

“max?” she asked, eyes wide.

“i have to go.” he hung up, cutting his boss off mid-sentence.

“wh-what are you doing here?” she asked. she still couldn’t believe he was there.

“you left. and you didn’t say goodbye,” he answered, walking to her. “so i came here,”

“ho-how did you even get here faster than me?” she furrowed her eyebrows once he was standing in front of her.

“private jet. which, you could’ve used if you had woken me up instead of leaving like that,”

“i-i had to leave,” she answered.

“but why did you leave like that? are you mad at me? did i do something?”

“no, no. i just… i don’t know, i didn’t want to bother-”

“you never bother me. you’re my best friend, sure, you’re annoying sometimes, but you could never bother me,”

she smiled, a real smile. her eyes scanned his face, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“you flew to the other side of the world just to say goodbye,” she pointed out, taking a step toward him.

“i had to get my cap back,” he said, she could see his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. she didn’t buy his words.

“how many girls have you done that for?” she lifted an eyebrow, leaning her weight on one leg.

“none. only you,” he replied without missing a beat. “you should know by now, there are things i can do only for you.”

“lucky me,” she smiled. and this time, she couldn’t ignore the feeling in her stomach, that was now traveling to her chest as well.

she thought about the last time she saw max. when he flew across the globe just to see her and wish her good luck on her new project. she bit her bottom lip as she tried to hold back a grin. she really wanted to see him again. but he was on holidays, and with his tight, hectic schedule, he had to take every opportunity he was given to rest and focus on the next half of his season.

his last race before summer break was not one he wanted to remember. she wanted to be there for him, but her schedule just didn’t allow it. she was afraid that max’s thoughts about distance were coming true.

she heard a knock on the door of her trailer. her fifteen minutes were up. she adjusted her costume, getting ready to shoot the next few scenes. she walked a few meters to set, seeing the blue and green screens where the locations would be added later. she watched in silence as two of her co-stars were wrapping up a scene. she walked to where her designated chair, was, but found someone sitting on it.

“hey, i think you have the wrong chair,” she whispered, tapping the person on the shoulder. “max!” she whisper-yelled, aware that she couldn’t be too loud or the mics would catch her words. “what are you doing here?! you didn’t answer my texts and- and you’re supposed to be in croatia!” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the back, where they could talk freely without the chances of their conversation ruining the shot.

“i missed you. and i had this week off, so, i flew here,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“god, i missed you too. come here,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands went to her waist, pulling her close, being careful with her costume. “i can’t believe you’ve surprised me here twice,” she laughed, burying her face in his chest, she inhaled, the scent of his cologne registering again, she’d almost forgotten what it smelled like.

“and i’ll do it more and more if it means seeing that happy look on your face,” he tapped her nose, making her giggle softly. “look at you, quicksilver, you clean up nicely.”

“thank you, thank you,” she twirled, allowing him to see the whole outfit.

“i brought my cap but i think everyone will kill me if i ruin your look,” they both laughed.

“you’re just in time to see one of my big scenes! come on, let me introduce you to everyone,” she grabbed his hand, dragging him as she led him to the set, where they were setting everything up for the next scene. “how did you even get in here?” she asked, lacing her fingers between his.

“mark,” he answered. of course, her agent.

“oh! did i ever tell you that he thought we were dating?” she said, and max’s heart skipped a bit.

“wh-what?” he asked. she smiled, nodding.

“yeah, remember when you first came here? he told me to watch out for the thin walls of the room, his room was next to mine, and he thought we would… you know,” she felt her cheeks blushing as she thought about what everyone else must think when they see her and max together.

“oh,” max said, swallowing nothing again.

she had to bite her tongue to avoid saying something else, he clearly was uncomfortable with the idea of them being together. it was clear.

december 4th, 2021.

her nails were long gone. she had a lump in her throat each time she watched max approach a corner, which in this track, was almost every second. the second she saw the track layout, she knew that this wasn’t a safe circuit. she’d tried to voice this thoughts to max, but he shrugged and just said that there was nothing he could do about it.

“i’m not asking you to rebuild the circuit, i’m asking you to be careful.” she snapped at him. they were in the garage, he was about to go out for the qualifying session, and the crash from earlier had left her a little shaken up.

“i will be fine, why are you worrying? you’re never like this,” he furrowed his eyebrows.

“just… be careful, okay? the real work is tomorrow. don’t push the car too hard,”

“that’s exactly what i have to do,” he answered, putting on his white balaclava. “that’s how quali works,”

“on a different track, one that you know, maybe. not here. the position you start in won’t matter if you don’t even start.”

he wanted to ask her why she was telling him this, but was ushered to the car as lights were about to go green.

it was hard watching him be so pissed at himself. she hated being right about this. but she knew max, she knew that he could be impulsive, letting his instincts get the best of him. she had a feeling he would push to the limit to get that pole position. instead, he couldn’t even finish what could’ve otherwise been one of the greatest qualifying laps in history.

it took a while before she could actually see him after the session. everyone could see that he was bitter about his failed lap. she was waiting for him in his driver’s room, her leg bouncing up and down as she thought about a good speech to tell him.

the door opening startled her. max’s hair was still sweaty, his fireproof clinging to his skin. he started removing it, and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

“are you happy?” he said. she frowned, looking up.

“what?”

“your little speech, you got in my head and i didn’t perform my best,” his words were short, stern.

“you’re saying it’s my fault? max, i literally warned you, i was looking after you,” she stood up, walking to him.

“get out,” he said.

“what?” she asked, her heart pounding. she tried to meet his eyes, but he refused to look at her.

“get out, i- i don’t want to see you right now.”

“max, what’s going on with you? are you listening to yourself?”

“yes, i know what i am saying. i don’t want you here. not tomorrow, or next week.”

she gasped, the air stuck in her throat.

“you’re just a distraction,” he finished. he turned his back to her, placing his hands on the massage table. for once, she was glad he couldn’t see her, or the tears that were threatening to spill from her eyes. she grabbed her bag, knowing it was useless to try and reason with him when he was like this. “i need my cap back,” he told her. she took a deep breath, removing the hat from her head and throwing it on the floor.

“this isn’t you,” she said as she opened the door, closing it behind her as she saw him turning around.

december 5th, 2021.

she was in her hotel room, watching the race happening only a few kilometers away. she wanted to be there, she wanted to be the first person max saw as he stepped out of the car, but she didn’t know how he was feeling.

of course she was feeling hurt, but deep down, she knew that he didn’t mean his words from yesterday, she knew those weren’t his words. she had experienced a plethora of different max moods during race weekends, but this was different. he had never been this close to winning a championship even with one race to go. every other race looked like child’s play compared to this. the pression was on him, by his team, by himself, and by his family.

she’d tried many times to convince him that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he didn’t get it that year, but he would always say that ‘this was his year’.

it was horrible not being able to be in the paddock. she hadn’t been able to sleep all night, and she’d spent the entire day locked in her hotel room, watching through her window as the track began filling with fans, she could hear the rumble of the engines, the roar from the crowds. she didn’t have any nails left, so she grabbed a red bull cap she found amongst her stuff and started playing with the velcro strap to deal with her nerves and anxiety. she knew it probably wouldn’t work afterward, but it was everything she could do.

seeing him standing on the podium, faking a smile, knowing that he didn’t have anyone to hear him out, hear his real thoughts, the ones only she had the privilege to hear, broke her heart. the next race would be great for the fans, but it would take a great toll on max’s mind.

she saw his face on the tv, she could see the dark circles under his eyes, the exhausted look on his face. she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him, make him hide his face in the crook of her neck, and whisper that everything would be okay. that she was proud of him no matter what, that she loved him more than anything else in the world.

instead, she fell asleep on a cold bed, with no one by her side.

december 12th, 2021.

it was like being in monaco all over again. she had nowhere to go. she knew that if she stepped in the red bull hospitality or garage they wouldn’t kick her out, but she also knew that max didn’t want to see her. it was two hours until lights out, and the drivers were doing their usual ‘class of 2021’ picture before stepping onto a bus to take a few laps around the track for the drivers’ parade.

this time, she was on top of the garages, she could see the pitlane from her spot. she heard the mercedes drivers being interviewed, could see what the cameras were recording on one of the screens stuck to the wall. the drivers as well, they could see the same broadcast.

it was now max’s turn to be interviewed, he smiled as he waved at the fans, he was distracted by the sudden cheer from the crowd.

“she’s back,” he heard from behind him, pausing his answer to look at the big screens. he gasped, clearing his throat to pretend that everything was alright. the rest of the drivers had gotten used to seeing her around, it was weird for everyone when they saw her on friday and saturday, but missed the race.

she frowned as he heard max stumbling on his words, the small truck was passing by the main straight, below from where she was. she was standing up, her hands against the concrete wall that reached up to her waist. she turned her head to one of the screens. it was like a chain, she saw max looking at her in one of the screens. the delay made it obvious to everyone that she was the reason he reacted that way.

she had to get out of there. she turned around just as the truck was stopping, the drivers rushing out of there in a hurry. she squeezed past other celebrities, trying to make herself as small as she could to go by unnoticed. she tried to hide her face behind the cap she was wearing. the only one she could find was a generic red bull cap, it didn’t feel like the one she was used to wear. his. max’s.

she made her way down the stairs, walking the opposite way from the rest of the crowd. she kept her head down, but had to look up when suddenly everyone was moving out of her way, making a free path for her.

max was walking toward her, people were actively stepping aside to let him through. she turned back around and started walking away, but stopped when she felt a hand grabbing her arm. she tried yanking her arm away from his grip.

“stop, stop. you’re going to hurt yourself,” he said.

“then just let me go,” she replied.

“come here,” he started guiding her to the red bull hospitality.

“max,”

“i just want to talk. please,”

“are you sure i’m not just a distraction? you should probably be getting ready for the race, i wouldn’t want to be the reason you lose the championship.” it hurt to say those words, her heart broke at the sight of visible pain on his face.

“i- i didn’t mean that. just, please, come with me.” he pleaded.

“you have ten minutes,” she said. he dropped his hand down to grab hers, lacing his fingers with hers so they wouldn’t get separated by the crowd of people in the paddock. thankfully, the hospitality was nearly empty, everyone was in too much of a frenzy out in the garage to really pay attention to what was going on back there. once they were in the privacy of his driver’s room, max immediately wrapped his arms around her entire frame, holding her close to his chest. her arms stayed by her sides, even though her hands were practically aching to hug him.

“i’m so sorry for what i said last week. i didn’t mean any of that. you were right, it wasn’t me.” he said. “i was… i let my dad, and horner, and marko get in my head. but it’s not true. you’re not a distraction, since that weekend in monaco you’re one of the reasons i do this. the best part of every race, no matter where i end up, is stepping out of the car and seeing you waiting for me. your presence, your… friendship,” he took a deep breath as he said that word, “means more to me than any championship, any trophy. in truth, the biggest accomplishment of my year is having you by my side.” he spoke fast, it didn’t sound rehearsed, he voiced every thought that came to his head. “last week in jeddah, and this whole week, i’ve not been myself. i can’t be myself without you.”

“this week has been hell,” she said.

“i am so sorry for putting you through that, i promise i-” she placed a hand on his chest, he paused.

“seeing you, without focus, your mind somewhere else, trying to prove to everyone that you’re worthy when you’ve already done that hundreds of times before, that was hell. max, you’re human, you’re allowed to have emotions, to have good days or bad days, you’re not a machine. you’re not programmed to win, no matter how many races you take part in, how many trophies you have. that’s the thing about life, every day is a new chance to do what you want to, your life will not end if you don’t win a race, or a championship. you have more chances.”

“i know.” he whispered. “but this is what i’ve been working for my entire life.”

“but is your life going to end if you don’t win? no. if you keep acting like you did last week, if you let toxic people manipulate you, turn you into something you’re not, the only thing that will happen is that you’ll push everyone away.” she could feel his hands tightening their grip on her waist at the thought of her leaving again. “i’m here to stay.”

“you’re all i need.” he pressed his forehead against hers, her eyes flew down to his lips. he noticed. he leaned closer, his nose brushing against hers.

“max,” she said, “we’re friends. best friends,”

“of course,” he leaned back a little. “the best friend i could ask for,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“i love you,” she said. “as a friend,” her voice was shaky.

“of course. i love you as a friend, too,”

“good. now, we have a championship to win,” she patted his chest twice, making him smile.

“what happened to the speech you just-”

“the fact that you have many other chances doesn’t mean you won’t fight your hardest to win this one,” she reminded him.

“come down with me? the garage feels empty without you.” he told her. she nodded.

“of course, i missed the thrill and the noise, watching on tv is just not the same,”

“i’m sorry,” he said, she shook her head.

“don’t apologize. i’m here now, we’re here now. let’s go, they must be looking for you. i’m sure horner will kill me once he sees us walking in.”

“i’ll fight him,” max said, walking to a desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out a cap. her cap, he always made sure it was the same one. the one with his name written inside with a sharpie. he took off the cap she was wearing, placing it on the desk before putting her cap on. “there,”

“much better,” she smiled.

december 13th, 2021.

she was wearing a black shirt with a design in white and gold, stating that max was the world champion. she was tossing and turning on her hotel bed, still buzzing with adrenaline from the previous celebrations. she hadn’t drunk that much in a long time, but it was the perfect occasion to party as much as she wanted to.

max was finally a world champion.

she smiled everytime she thought about it, she got teary eyed when she replayed the moment he stepped out of the car and ran straight to her hugging the life out of her as he thanked her for everything she’d done for him.

she loved him. perhaps, she loved him from the moment he ran into him that weekend in monaco. but she couldn’t risk it. one week without him had been hell, if her feelings were one sided and things ended badly, she didn’t know if she could survive without him in her life.

she groaned, kicking the covers off with her legs. she sat up, grabbing her phone and scrolling through the pictures and videos she’d taken that night. max and her pouring each other shots, seeing who could drink them faster. her licking the salt from his neck, taking the lime from his lips. him doing the same, the feeling of her tongue against her throat was one she would never forget. her stomach turned, knowing that it was only because they were drunk.

being in love with your best friend sucks.

‘i love you like a best friend’ she thought back to her own words. coward.

she heard a knock on her door, it startled her at first, she checked the time. 4:38am. the person knocked again, she got out of bed and walked to the door, seeing a familiar head of dirty blonde hair on the other side.

“max, what’s-”

“i love you,” he blurted out. “i love you, and… not like a best friend. i don’t want you like a best friend, i want more,”

her breath got stuck in her throat, she couldn’t speak.

“i’ve had this feeling in my hands, since i let go of your hands when i was putting on my gloves, they haven’t stopped shaking, it’s like i can’t control them and…”

he lifted his hands, and she could see what he meant, slowly, she placed her hands in his. lacing her fingers with his, and the shaking stopped.

they didn’t speak anymore, they let their actions speak for them. she took a step closer, he leaned his head down. she stood on her tipoes, he closed his eyes. her eyes shut on their own accord, he parted his lips. they kissed, and it was like the piece that had been missing was finally found. two halves made a whole, two hearts became one, a friendship turned into something more.

may 2nd, 2022.

she walked the red carpet with max by her side. to everyone else, they were still just friends, although on evey interview they were asked the same question, they both always answered the same.

‘she/he’s my best friend.’

which, technically, wasn’t a lie.

she was extremely nervous that day, people were asking her what she was doing there, since her part was a complete secret.

she was doing an interview with two of her co-stars, xochitl and benedict wong, she had to pretend it was her first time meeting them, since they didn’t appear on her show. max was standing by the side, watching her.

“i don’t know, they invited me and we were already here for the grand prix so we came,” she said. max noticed how she only lifted one corner of her lips to smile, a sign that she was nervous, she was about to slip.

“so, do you know what the future of your character is? we were left in a cliffhanger after the end of the show, are there any plans for future projects?”

“umm, i- i’m not sure, i-” she didn’t know what else to say, she looked to her castmates, silently begging for help, but they were unaware of her inside struggles. she hadn’t had that much preparation on this type of interviews, and she didn’t want to screw this up.

“can i just say something?” max said, popping his head and walking into frame before anyone could complain, “i personally don’t know what the future of her character is, but i just think that she’s an amazing actress who did an incredible job on that show, and both she and the character deserve to be part of this cinematic world. plus, look at her, she could act as a rock and it would still be oscar-worthy,” he finished. and she let out a shaky breath as he felt his hand on her back.

“aw, you two are just the sweetest. are you sure there’s no sparks flying around between you? you just seem like you’re meant to be,” the interviewer said.

“the only sparks are the ones from my race car when i go over the curbs,” they both laughed, catching the interviewer a bit off guard.

once they were inside, she started breathing quickly.

“fuck, i think i screwed up. someone’s definitely going to notice,” she said, her fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. “fuck, i’m so fired, they’re never going to call me back, and-”

“hey, hey, stop. don’t say that,” max said, grabbing her hand. “no one will notice, and they won’t care. in my opinion, you should’ve just told the truth, show off your incredible work here, show them how much you deserve to be here,”

her chest was still rising up and down uncontrollably, and max wanted to kiss her lips, show her how much he loved her, that everything would be okay. but, they were still in public. so, he settled for a kiss on the cheek and a few words in her ear.

“i love you,” he whispered, “with all my being, in this life, all my past ones and those still to come. i love you, and i’m so proud of you,” he said before leaning back. “you will be fine, okay?”

“okay,” she repeated, he was holding her hand, with his thumb on top of the vein, he could feel her heartbeat slowing down to normal.

may 8th, 2022.

her eyes switched from one screen to the other, max had an amazing start on the race, making up one place on the opening lap. he’d been nervous that morning, having had limited time to understand and learn this new track. but his desire to win was there. it wasn’t too long until he reached the race leader, making brave, precise decisions at the right moment to maximize his winning opportunities.

the safety car, as always, shook up the race a little, with the top four being closer than ever. but max was able to keep the lead, the issues he noticed in the car were quickly fixed with gp’s help, he knew to stay calm when necessary.

she had her cap on, even though the heat was unforgiving, she had to wear his cap. and she was tapping her nails against the desk area in front of her, under all the screens. she was incredibly proud of max, he had shown so much growth since the end of last season. of course, like everyone else, he still had some moments when the frustration often took the best of him, but he knew to take it easy, to let things go the way they’re supposed to.

long gone was her fear of walking alongside max’s mechanics and engineers, now she was just one of them. she was always given the spot closest to max. she was always the first person he hugged. she had the brightest smile on her face, this week had started good for her, and even though the weekend was tough for max, he managed to come out on top.

max stepped out of the car, her loud cheers mixed in with the rest of the crowd. she clapped for him, a huge smile on her face as he stepped toward her. but, he went to his crew first. they pampered him in congratulations, as max took off his helmet. he shook hands and bumped fists with all of them, taking his sweet time to make his way to her. she had a small frown on her face, maybe he hadn’t seen her and that’s why we went with the others first.

no, he noticed her. finally, he made his way to her, placing his helmet on the floor and wrapping his arms around her waist, making her stand on her tiptoes.

“max,”

“i love you,” he said, leaning his head down and pressing his lips on hers. the crowd erupted in even louder cheers, she was shocked at first, but it only took her a second to melt into his touch.

“good race, champ. a little warning would’ve been nice,” she told him as he hugged her again, burying his face against her neck. one of her hands went to his hair. she loved his post-race hair.

“come to the podium with me,” he said, she nodded. she would’ve agreed to anything at that moment.

as max was ushered to do post-race interviews, he tried his hardest to concentrate on the words leaving his lips, but he could only focus on her. she was glowing, shining brighter than the miami sun.

“yeah, my girlfriend and i have this inside joke, we pass each other the quicksilver powers, and she had them earlier this week, and now she gave them to me. i guess you could say that helped me win today,” max chuckled, her cheeks were hotter than the sun. as soon as he finished, he walked back to her, the red bull crew helped her get through the barrier. the red bull media team were already waiting for them in a car that would take them to the podium on the other side of the track, since there was no space left, max sat first, patting his lap.

“your carriage awaits, quicksilver,” he joked, she rolled her eyes as she sat on his lap, feeling his hand on her thigh. he pressed a kiss to her cheek, she turned her head, her lips touching his again.

“i think we broke the internet this week,” she laughed.

“what a great end to a great week,” max kissed her again. she sighed against his lips, she would never get tired of his kiss.

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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Hi!! First I want to say that A Fresh Start is absolutely my favorite thing I’ve ever read. I binge read it over the past week and I’m getting ready to re-read it. You write so amazingly that I was hoping I could ask you some questions? I’ve been trying to write a Din Djarin piece for a couple months now and I just hate it every time I read through it; and you write him so well! I am not new to the Star Wars fandom, my parents practically raised me on Star Wars, but I’m new to writing fan fiction for the Star Wars community. Do you do a lot of research to get the languages/terms? Do you also do a lot of research on the different worlds? When you’re writing do you pre-plan your plot or do you just write while it feels good? How extensively do you edit? I feel like editing is my downfall. Do you have any advice for for someone like me who is striving to be as good of a writer as you? 🥹 thank you and I can’t wait to read more of your writing!!

PS. Don’t feel like you have to answer this publicly or at all! I mostly just want to give you love on your writing because it is absolutely amazing!! 🩵🩵

OKAY FIRST OF ALL, YOU’RE SO FUCKING SWEET. Thank you so much omgg. And absolutely yes ask me all the questions. I will always answer (you didn’t even have to butter me up with compliments💁🏻‍♀️✨)

I love when people say they like how I write Din b/c I’m low-key just throwing a bunch of headcanons together and praying for the best lolol.

Long rambles ahead of me attempting to answer questions:

For Mando’a, I am not awesome at it. Some people are so way better. I had someone actually correct me once on the tense of a word and it blew my mind. However, I use this dictionary and this translator. I have no idea how accurate either is but I wing it from there lol.

I am a big researcher and it’s b/c I’m a perfectionist. I’m shockingly more lazy about it when it comes to Star Wars worlds. Like, I’ll search it up and get the big things (world name, setting, city names, etc.) but from there I just toss things in that I think would make sense? And in my last chapter of AFS, I just straight made up a world b/c I didn’t feel like doing research. I think that’s part of the beauty in working with a medium like Star Wars is that when it comes to setting you have a lot of free reign.

Ah. The age old question of ‘plotter vs pantser’. There are huge merits to both. For my original story, I have sat down and extensively plotted things out. Like a good little organized writer, which tbh is part of the reason why I’ve been lazy with it. Naturally, I am very much a pantser. I will come into a story with a vague idea of what I want, a few mental scenes I want to play with, but from there I just sort of let it roll. Writing fan fiction is like playing jazz for me. Very in the moment, improvisation, winging it.

Many times, I am surprised by my own ideas and that’s why it’s so much fun. Now, granted once I start writing a plot begins to form in my head. A rough outline. For example, in AFS, I started out with one idea: Domestic Din Djarin. And I had one scene in my head I specifically wanted to write: the scene where reader save a sick Grogu. So, I just started writing things and around chapter 6 or 7 my brain had a rough plan on where I wanted the story to go and how I want it to end, but I still leave it very open for if a new idea suddenly comes to me.

UGH EDITING SUUUUCKS. I go through one round of editing b/c otherwise it feels miserable. I write the chapter or the drabble without stopping to look back and edit. My only recommendation is ‘DONT EDIT WHILE YOU WORK’, b/c you end up getting stuck in this loop. Write it all out, just get it on paper, then read through it and edit afterwards.

I’ll type out a Drabble in google docs without re-reading it or editing it, then I post it over to Tumblr and when it’s on that new page win a different style I read through it and edit as I go. Then I hit post. (So if you come across errors in my work that’s why lolol)

My advice is don’t strive to be like me. (I mean I am totally honored to hear that you think I’m a great writer and want to be like me, that went STRAIGHT to my ego).

But what I mean is, never try to shape yourself into any other style. Don’t ever compare yourself to others. Because I guarantee you, right now, that you have skills and gifts that I probably can’t bring to the table. You are going to write something and just by it being in your voice you are creating something unique and beautiful. So don’t ever try to edit the way you write to match someone else b/c then you’d be depriving the world of your own voice. That being said the best advice I was ever given about improving my own writing skill and style was ‘JUST WRITE’ and it’s so hard lolol. B/c I wanna write but I don’t wanna write. You feel me? I just want all the words in my head to be on paper and that be it hahah. But the point of that is, it’s like any other skill or hobby or sport, the more you do it the better you become and the more comfortable you feel with your style.

I have no formal training in writing. My degree is in science, only took the baseline literature classes in college, so everything I know and do is self taught through trial and error. One of these days, I might post one of my early works b/c it is ATROCIOUS. Like literally godawful. I swear to you I’m not being humble, it was actual trash BUT IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE. The first things you create are not going to be brilliant or moving and they might even make yourself cringe when you look back on it, but as long as you had fun writing it that’s what matters. Then you keep writing and writing and writing and eventually you find your rhythm.

I started writing in the 7th grade. If you compare my 7th grade work to my 10th grade work, I improved by leaps and bounds. Compare my 10th grade work to my sophomore year of college works, again HUGE changes. Compare my college years of writing to what I do today? Even better.

I still have days where I’ll stare at a page and feel incompetent and illiterate. It happens. But I never gave up on writing, b/c it was truly what I loved to do, and gradually I found and solidified my voice. I don’t think I’m an extraordinary writer by any means, but I am confident in the words I use and the style I write in. And that makes me happy.

So, that was my VERY long winded way of saying: I am so proud of you, I think you're being harder on yourself than necessary (everyone is their own worst critic), and have fun. 💜

#jj gets serious #asks #feel free to ask me about anything!!#sorry it's so long #y'all know me #i just never know how to shut up #pls never be afraid to ask me questions though #i love answering things #and being helpful #at least i hope this was helpful lol

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 7 months

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I hit about eight different topics in this post. All related to various comedians. It's been a while since I've done a post in which I just start writing and then let myself go, if one thing I write reminds me of a different thing I'll start writing about that. There's no plan to this post. Adding a cut for people who (justifiably) do not want to go through something even more rambly than usual, for me. I'll say at the outset that there's nothing particularly deep or insightful here.

Just finished listening to the podcast episode to go with the new Taskmaster, and it was quite good. Solid insights from Ivo Graham, as I’d have expected. I missed this podcast, since they stopped putting stuff out every week. I realized I’ve missed hearing Ed Gamble – I do like him enough to enjoy hearing him talk for 45-ish minutes per week, which I learned from the several years he spent doing the Taskmaster podcast with very few weeks off, and I miss it now that it only airs while Taskmaster (UK) is airing.

If only I hadn’t spent years in a sport that forced me to track my weight so meticulously that I am now incapable of seeing food as entertainment, ruling out getting into Off Menu. If only I didn’t have a combination of hypochondria that mainly manifests as fear of developing cancer and/or diabetes, and fear of needles, along with a specific fear that I’ll develop diabetes and then have to have needles for the rest of my life, and the way I manage to go through life instead of being constantly paralyzed with anxiety about this is by avoiding thinking about the existence of those things as much as possible. I can think about if I’m absolutely forced to, but at the very least, I’m unable to derive enjoyment from thinking about them. So Ed Gamble’s stand-up might be great, I don’t know, I haven’t sought it out.

I have a disappointing amount of reasons to avoid listening to his stuff, given how much I enjoy hearing him talk. Maybe I should get into his radio show, I like Matthew Crosby. And every once in a while I think of how the side of Ed Gamble I like least is the way he’s a bit too TV polished sometimes, so clearly the solution to that is to get into the Peacock and Gamble stuff.

Anyway, it was a fun episode. The more I think about it, the more excited I am for Taskmaster season 16. That first episode was so good, one of those things that’s so good I just want to go over and over it, so I enjoyed hearing Ed and Ivo do that.

I remembered today that a few months ago, I was hanging out with my brother, and I told him I’d bought tickets to see Tom Ballard. He didn’t know who Tom Ballard was, I said he’s an Australian comedian, my brother said he didn’t know as much about Australian comedy as he should. Then we both started naming other Australian comedians, to see if we have any knowledge of them in common. He didn’t know any of my names, until I asked him, “Do you know Sam Campbell?” and he said yes. I asked him if he likes Sam’s comedy, and he said that actually he’s never seen Sam’s comedy.

“But you said you know him,” I said. My brother said yeah, from when he lived in Melbourne. I often forget that my brother lived in Melbourne for a year, in about 2015-ish. He also lived in London for a year, around 2011. Did some comedy in both those places. Anyway, he told me that one time when he lived in Melbourne, he was at a party, and one of his comedy friends introduced him to a guy named Sam Campbell. “I haven’t seen him perform, but he was a nice guy,” my brother said. I told him we are working with different definitions of what it means to "know" a comedian.

I think this might be the first time I’ve been two handshakes away from a Taskmaster contestant. I can get three away from plenty of them – I’ve met someone who’s met someone who’s met them. Three away from Mae Martin in plenty of ways, I think, and not even just through my brother, now that I’ve spent some time with other local comedians. A bunch of those local comedians, including my brother, have worked with some of the comedians who were on LOL Canada, a fairly bad… okay less bad than you’d expect given the premise but definitely not great… comedy-based reality show that I watched this summer entirely because it had Mae Martin on it. Mae Martin’s pretty good in that, by the way, for the information of anyone who’d like to know that. By which I mean, if you happen to just really like watching Mae Martin do anything, that is a show on Amazon Prime that features Mae Martin doing some stuff. Mainly trying not to laugh at Tom Green.

So I can get three away, but I think Sam Campbell is the first Taskmaster contestant my brother, or anyone else I know personally, has actually met. I mean, technically I’ve now met Josie Long and Grace Petrie, and they’ve met lots of Taskmaster contestants. Technically I’ve been one handshake away from a Taskmaster contestant, as Josie Long was an original champion (well, second after Wozniak). But I think in this case, I’m defining “handshake” as working with someone or seeing them socially. It counts if you only worked with or met them once, but it has to be work or social, not just accosting them on the streets of Montreal and asking them to sign a tour poster from over ten years ago.

Though my meeting with Grace Petrie has turned out to possibly be slightly more significant than I’d thought at the time. I haven’t been able to find my wallet this weekend, and the last time I definitely, 100% had it was when I took it out at the merch table at her concert and gave her money for a CD. I think I remember having it when I got home from the concert, but I can’t be totally sure, and I can’t find it anywhere in the house.

I was an incoherent mess when I met Grace Petrie at her merch table, I remember shaking and stuttering a bit as I spoke to her and trying to remember what I wanted to say, and I definitely don’t remember keeping track of anything. It is absolutely conceivable that my flustered state from meeting Grace Petrie led me to forget to pick up my wallet when I left the table. Again, I don’t think so – I think I would have checked for it before leaving the venue at the end of the night. But the more I search this house and don’t find it, the more likely it looks that the “too excited to meet Grace Petrie to remember to grab it” theory is exactly what happened. So basically, my current working theory is that Grace Petrie stole my wallet.

It'd be good if Sam Campbell won Taskmaster, not just because I called that the moment the cast was officially announced so now I have to back him like he’s a sports team because I like being right. But I’d enjoy being two handshakes away from a Taskmaster champion.

My brother does have a few “meeting now-famous people” stories about his time doing the comedy circuit in London, which I would like credit for not having posted here. Last year he gave me some entertaining gossip about British comedians, and I have refrained from mentioning that on my blog about British comedians, and I just want people to recognize the restraint I showed. In case anyone’s concerned, since “there’s a story about a famous person” so often means bad things, it’s nothing like that. All stories with tawdry parts in them have been entirely consensual. Though I will say that one time last year, my brother and I were in our parents’ living room and he told a story about Daniel Sloss that resulted in us having to explain the concept of dick pics to our mother. That is fine to say because it’s not putting any previously unknown gossip out there, as Daniel Sloss’ most recently released filmed special has a whole routine about how there are lots of his dick pics out there and one is bound to get leaked at some point. And I said “Yes, so I’ve heard.”

My brother told me at the time that he didn’t particularly like Daniel Sloss’ comedy, but I’m pretty sure he hadn’t actually seen it, and this was just one comedian automatically disliking another comedian who had started around the same time as him but become much, much more successful. Though to be fair, I have seen the DVD Daniel Sloss made when he was 22, and it’s fair to say he was not always the deep and complex comedian he is today. There is some bad stuff in his half man/half x-box days. And even recently, I don’t think everything he’s done is great. His latest special was fairly uneven and I do get sick hearing him call himself a dangerous an edgy comic, even though I know that’s just normal marketing. But I think he’s made some legitimately great things.

My brother told me more recently, however, that he had watched Daniel Sloss’ Jigsaw for the first time and loved it, that it’s exactly how he feels about relationships but hasn’t seen someone put it so well into words before. And he sent Jigsaw to his friend who’s in a bad relationship, saying this might encourage her to get out of it. I said I know what he means, that Jigsaw put into words a bunch of stuff that I also think about relationships but couldn’t articulate as clearly as Daniel Sloss did in that show, and I’ve also used it to show other people what I think. For example, I said, when I was early in the process of dating my most recent ex-girlfriend, it was going really really well and we were both talking about how we liked this but had agreed at the outset that neither of us were looking for a serious relationship, I sent her the Jigsaw show as a way to explain why I don’t do serious/traditional/committed relationships, but I really like her so can we keep seeing each other anyway? And of course about three weeks later we decided we had fallen in love and would therefore make an exception and use the word “girlfriend” and call this a relationship properly. I told my brother this, and he said… “No, that’s not the same thing. I sent Jigsaw to a girl I like because I hoped it would make her break up with her boyfriend. That’s what you’re supposed to do with that show, use it to break people up. You’re not supposed to send it to a girl you like who’s already dating you, as a way to start a relationship with her. Do you think it might have been a bad sign that you started a relationship by showing her that strongly anti-romance comedy show and saying this is what you think?” And I said I don’t know, fuck off, and yeah, probably.

It is nighttime and I have to get up for work tomorrow but I can't sleep, so I thought I'd just start writing some stuff and see where it takes me. Obviously it took me here. I started writing about the Taskmaster podcast, and I ended up writing about why my relationship fell apart last year. I'm doing fine. I need to go to sleep. I also need to find my fucking wallet. Just my luck, having Grace Petrie steal my wallet.

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tehuti88-art · 2 years

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8/20/22: r/SketchDaily theme, "Chess." I did two different arts today!

Firstly, before I found out the new theme: Today's character from my anthro WWII storyline (yes, I did another) is Mirela...no last name ever given. She's Romani and carries quite a grudge toward the bad guys who tried capturing her (and did capture her father). There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding her design...I only just realized I forgot to give her earrings! 😱 Well...uh. Crud. Maybe another time.

TUMBLR EDIT: I'm afraid I don't know a terrible lot about Mirela yet, though that's never stopped me from rambling, right??

Mirela's one of the intermediary-phase characters from the Trench Rats series. She's not old and not new. She may have been developed specifically for the version of the story I started posting online in the early 2000s (I'm not sure of the exact date but I just looked and the existing text was posted to Writing.com between 2001-2, and there's mention of it being posted on Fanfiction.net (now FictionPress) before that. Hm, a bit older than I thought, but fits with the 2002 character list, I guess.) Mirela is actually the one who starts out the story (well, that version of it) when her father is captured and she's rescued by the Trench Rats while fleeing the Nazis. Why are Nazis chasing them? Mirela and her father--since named Nikolas--are Romani, Gypsies. A people the Nazis hate about as much as they hate Jews. I imagined this chase scene, BTW, set to Pat Benatar's "Promises In The Dark." No, the lyrics have nothing to do with it, it's just an awesome tune I grew up listening to on 8-track. (Yes, 8-track. Google it.) Here, let me hook you up. Take a listen and imagine two anthropomorphic rats riding a pair of dogs trying to race away from evil Nazis, then come back here. I'll wait.

Wasn't that awesome? Okay. That there is Mirela's song, I guess. Though when I finally look up the words...it honestly seems better suited to someone like Klemper. Hm. Anyway. Turns out, in the original text, Mirela is actually PISSED to be rescued--she'd wanted her shot at the Nazis. Plus, I don't think it's in the text but it's implied she's anguished about the Rats not succeeding in rescuing her father as well. She was intended to spend a good deal of the story being in Trench Rat custody and feeling extremely bitter about the fate of her father, trading lots of barbs with Cpl. Gold Rat, who's portrayed as a...hm, not really a chauvinist, definitely not a misogynist, but in today's world most of his commentary would fall under sexual harassment. He engages in LOTS of flirting and innuendo, even--especially--toward women he's not even interested in getting with; he means no ill by it, it's just his thing. LC Lyndsey Skye, the only female Trench Rat in the story (recall Cpl. Anna Julian is long dead), is a frequent target of his attentions, I mean, there aren't exactly any other women to hit on. She puts up with it and even flings back some saucy comments of her own; both of them know where the other stands and so no offense is taken. Other women react differently. Some accept it, some get angry. Mirela, she gets angry when Gold flirts with her, especially considering that the Nazis who'd been chasing her made comments that made it clear they had some unpleasant intentions for her. Let me share that exchange!--this version of the story is unfinished but fully extant, after all!

Seeing her standing up defiantly, the first one laughed even louder. "Look," he yelled to his companions in German. "She doesn't want to be friends, she wants to play target practice. Doesn't she make a lovely target?"

"Come on," a second one retorted. "I thought we were going to have some fun."

"And this isn't fun? You need to get out more. I'm saving you the trouble of bothering with the trashy little thing. This'll be a lot more fun, I promise. Then we can all go out on the town, mission accomplished, what do you say?"

The second one muttered to himself but offered no argument. The others hooted and catcalled when the first smiled again and aimed the gun between her eyes.

She stood up as straight as she could and shook her fists at the air in a defiant gesture. "You want to shoot? Go ahead, big man, show me that your gun's really got some bullets in it after all!"

A burst of laughter from the others. A surprised, then furious look crossed the soldier's face. "Mouthy little whore," he hissed, cocking the gun, finger pulling back the trigger.

(I recently read that depicting guns being cocked in fiction is dumb and should be avoided--I guess it's more for looks and isn't necessary, though I thought it was?--I don't get it--so aside from all the Russian roulette in the story--there's just a weird amount of Russian roulette--I intend to TRY to avoid this from now on. I know zilch about guns. I'll just say that now. My mother once showed me a hidden compartment in the bathroom closet ceiling and I shrieked like a little girl when a handgun fell out. Turns out it was a BB gun she'd taken from my brother long ago and had forgotten about but it looked dangerous enough to me, how could I know? There's this entry's nice little anecdote, hope you enjoyed.)

Well, Gold's flirting doesn't go over well with Mirela, and she mouths off to him quite a bit. He's not a complete troglodyte and eventually lets her be. This aspect of Gold's personality, by the way, remains in the current version, though it's a little more nuanced. He flirts, he makes vaguely sexual comments, he'll even touch a woman's arm or take her hand or give her a once over. If she shows discomfort, he backs off. If she flirts back, he keeps up the exchange, though usually with no intention for it to go further. And if she actually tries to take it further--as Didrika pretends to do--he gets extremely flustered and REALLY backs off. He's genuinely not interested in banging every woman he sees--he just overcompensates for his own intense insecurity by acting like a douche toward women. (And toward most guys, too.) So of course when called out on it, he doesn't know how to handle it. (As with most other aspects of this story, please don't take this as me excusing such behavior in the real world. In FICTION, I like to try to put myself in the minds of people who engage in behavior that'd be odious and possibly unforgivable IRL, to try to make characters who are three dimensional, and not just caricatures--anybody can write a male chauvinist or an evil Nazi. I want characters who aren't JUST that, characters you want to hate or love yet you find yourself feeling a bit of the opposite, too. Complicated characters. I don't know if I'm succeeding since the story isn't written and I don't think anybody is reading all of this. But that's my intent. Not any sort of sympathy toward Nazis and sexual harassers and murderers and whatnot, just an attempt to write in shades of gray rather than black/white.) Gold's actual reason for being so intensely insecure, BTW, only recently came to light; I was going to share it here, but I intend to get his portrait out of the way soon so I'll save it for that.

ANYWAY. Mirela's upset that her father is still in Nazi custody but can't immediately do anything about it. As the circa-2000 version of the story went, she was intended to be in Trench Rat custody for much of the time but at some point started trying to take on the Nazis in her own ways. The details were never ironed out before I stopped writing. A couple of...ahem...romantic scenes exist, between Mirela and, of all people, Lt. Ratdog. Originally, these two were intended to have at least a brief relationship, though I can't recall if it was meant to last; I don't think it was. Not positive. (My adult scenes, BTW, are the catalyst that rebooted this story in my head last November when I wondered what would happen if I paired off Papillon and Drake...that scene started to run long, plot developed, then for some bizarre reason a swarm of new characters started pouring out of my head demanding my attention. So...thanks for getting it on with each other, guys, I guess? o_o ) In Mirela's and Ratdog's romantic scenes, it's depicted as a sort of love/hate thing, starting out almost like a rape as Mirela tries numerous times to attack Ratdog and he has to restrain her just to protect himself. (Why are they in each other's company in the first place? I have no freaking idea.) They warm to each other, though Mirela struggles with her hatred of the Nazis and by extension how she feels she SHOULD hate Ratdog. (Ratdog isn't a Nazi and was never written as one, far as I can recall. Him being an unofficial member of the Wehrmacht is a retcon and a newer development, but he was never a Nazi. Mirela just sees no distinction--he works for a Nazi (Schavi--know what?--screw it, my autofill is nagging me and I'm just gonna go with it now, I will refer to him henceforth as Schavitz), so to her, that's bad enough.) Ratdog, for his part, only struggles to keep Mirela from killing him. (Even after they do the deed she tries again to finish him off.) He's rather a man-whore, goes both ways, and isn't picky. If someone is interested in him, generally he's good to go. He honestly doesn't get why Mirela keeps trying to kill him. But anyway, that was how the story was originally intended to go.

Ratdog's character arc has developed in a different direction since then, however. As things currently stand, Private Godfrey Klemper is his true love, though it takes him quite a while to realize this, and his initial lack of interest in relationships is ironically what pushes Klemper--who's definitely interested in him--away. I'll try not to get overly into it since this isn't their entry, though I didn't cover it in their entries, so...Ratdog's idea of "love and romance" is just no-strings-attached sex, and he hooks up with numerous parties for brief times only--this is how he ends up a single father. After the death of his young son, he just doubles down on going to bars, getting drunk, and taking someone home or letting them take him home. That, and shooting Trench Rats (whom he incorrectly blames for his son's death), are his sole motivations in life. Klemper, meanwhile, suffered a horribly abusive childhood at the hands of his drunken father, lots of internalized self-hatred over his romantic interests (it's like his father's voice acts as his conscience), shooting his own father when he was just ten years old, growing up VERY fast by joining the Wehrmacht at age thirteen, getting hooked on methamphetamine, and going through a series of incredibly dysfunctional "relationships" that were actually either him being used and dumped by the other party, or just outright raped (he's underaged throughout most of this, as he's only around seventeen or eighteen when Ratdog, probably in his late twenties, meets him). Klemper is desperate for acceptance and love, to the point of always ending up victimized; this, his abusive childhood and self-hatred (his father molested him with a beer bottle to "scare him straight"), and his drug addiction combine to make somebody who's VERY muddled and bitter and broken. He's constantly angry and lashing out, he literally regresses and runs away when he feels overwhelmed, yet the moment someone shows him an ounce of compassion, he latches on and doesn't let go--until they inevitably let him down, of course. Then he hates them with a vengeance. The rest of the time he spends in a twilight daze, high out of his mind and often mixing up childhood events with the current situation; sometimes he just completely zones out. Literally the only time he's really functional is when he's fighting or performing military duties that require him to focus; if not for that he'd just completely fall apart. Oh, right--and the Wehrmacht punished him just when he was starting to show promise by demoting him from sergeant to PFC and denying him the right to progress further, when news of his fling with a male Jewish partisan leaked out (the ONE positive relationship he'd had, as it is). In short, he's an utter mess, and he's only in his late teens.

This is the state he's in when he's tasked with assisting and protecting Ratdog, a sniper who's granted the honorary rank of first lieutenant (oh wow does this detail rankle Klemper, who worked hard just to get demoted). He also hates Ratdog's drinking and whoring tendencies. After Ratdog's initial attempt at kissing Klemper results in Klemper kneeing Ratdog in the groin, elbowing him in the chin, and yelling, "SCHWUCHTEL!!" before running away, Ratdog successfully seduces him (Klemper is young, fit, Aryan, somewhat effeminate, and good looking--basically, a twink) and they spend a night together. Klemper catches feelings. But Ratdog thinks it was just some harmless fun and keeps whoring around. Klemper gets steamed. When Ratdog makes a move on him a second time, Klemper smacks him and snaps, "You want to get laid so bad, go pick up someone at the bar like you usually do!" Ratdog...isn't that bright. In fact he's kind of stupid, it's one reason he's assigned Klemper in the first place. He's mystified why Klemper is so mad. Klemper's commanding officer, Lt. Dasch (he and the men in Klemper's unit are the only people he trusts anymore), enlightens him a little while also threatening to mess Ratdog up if he upsets Klemper too badly. Ratdog's never had or wanted an emotional relationship while that's the sort of relationship Klemper's been seeking all along, yet can never find. Ratdog used him just like the other men he's known; of course he's spiteful.

Somehow, Ratdog starts warming to the concept of being monogamous, if it means Klemper will be with him, though it takes an incredibly negative experience of his own for this to happen: Ratdog actually takes Klemper's advice to go to the bar for a one-night stand. He turns down the sergeant who hits on him, however, since something feels "off," and heads home alone. Unfortunately for him, he just turned down Sgt. Lange, who's so sadistic the Nazis sometimes use him as a torture device in his own right. Lange doesn't take this well, and follows Ratdog back to his apartment. You can guess what happens. Klemper shows up the next morning when Ratdog is late and sees the state he's in (his eyes have been blackened, and he winces when he sits down); Ratdog claims it was a bar fight, but Klemper has enough experience to know better. This time Ratdog is the one to get uncharacteristically angry and snap at him to leave but he refuses. He gets even more protective, and when the two of them run into Lange at a party and Lange makes some lewd comments to Ratdog, Klemper shoves his pistol in Lange's gut and threatens him. Lange backs off--that time. Later while his and Klemper's units are searching an abandoned house, he attempts attacking Klemper and manages to pin him to a bed, but Klemper is amped up both on meth and on years of rage at being victimized, so despite being much younger and smaller and frailer than the sergeant, he headbutts Lange with his Stahlhelm and then proceeds to beat the s**t out of him until Dasch arrives to break them up. ("A misunderstanding," Klemper simply says when Dasch asks WTF happened.)

Ratdog gets a look at Klemper's blackened eyes afterward and finally understands. He isn't interested in casual flings anymore, he wants to be with Klemper. Klemper wants the same but is understandably reluctant by now, yet Ratdog is persistent. Even while they pursue a relationship, Klemper continues to insist it won't last: "Everyone leaves. No one comes back." At one particularly self-aware moment, he tells Ratdog, "It's not your fault. I was already broken...you just came along too late to make a difference." Those are the better moments; at other times, he lashes out in a rage since he's still an addict and he's still never resolved all his painful experiences--in one scene when Ratdog attempts to confiscate his Pervitin, insisting he doesn't need it when not in combat, Klemper punches him, locks himself in the bathroom, takes the drug, then regresses to his childhood when Ratdog breaks in the door, putting his arms over his head and wailing for Ratdog not to hurt him, he promises he'll be good. Both of them make a good-faith effort but it's difficult, and Ratdog has to put up with some abuse himself. Ratdog gets called to appear before Wehrmacht authorities when they discover Schavitz's appointment of him as lieutenant isn't legally valid, and when he tells Klemper, the private is resigned to never seeing him again. Ratdog insists he'll come back, but Klemper dejectedly says, "Everyone leaves. No one comes back," and walks away, waving off Ratdog's promises. WELL...Ratdog is preoccupied dealing with this legal issue for quite a while, and even ends up in jail as it turns out Schavitz never bothered to clear his appointment with the Wehrmacht, and doesn't even respond to attempts to get him to speak on Ratdog's behalf. A-hole. Instead, to Ratdog's surprise, another party arrives: Capt. Otto Himmel of the SS, whom he and Klemper had interacted with earlier (Himmel's the one who explained the circumstances of Klemper's demotion to him, as the SS were responsible for the investigation). Himmel vouches for him, with a signed letter from his superior, Maj. Jäger, to back him up. The Wehrmacht authorities are reluctant but decide to reinstate Ratdog's "unofficial" status, albeit with a warning. He's released, and wants to immediately return to Klemper, but Klemper's unit is constantly on the move and he has no idea where they are. Himmel gets on the radiotelegraph and asks around before pinning down their last known location, although it's a few days out of date. Ratdog makes his way there anyway. Asks passing Wehrmacht and Waffen-SS troops for info as he searches. Finally, as he's walking through the woods one day a voice hails him by his first name, Adel--only Klemper calls him that. In Ratdog's absence, Klemper had grown so despondent that Dasch put him on lookout duty to distract him, and he just happened to see Ratdog's approach. "You came back," he exclaims. "You came looking for me and you found me. You came back! You found me!"

Suffice it to say, from that moment, Ratdog wins Klemper's heart permanently. Although they have to separate at times, emotionally they're inseparable, and Klemper devotes himself to Ratdog completely. They still have their volatile moments, but Klemper finally finds what he's been looking for, and would literally lay down his life for Ratdog from now on. (Ratdog is used to his independence, and Klemper's clinginess is something he's unused to, but it grows on him.)

Throughout the story these two occasionally run across resistance fighter Didrika and her men. Didrika is Romani like Mirela, and like Ratdog, she's a skilled sniper. The Germans are weirded out by women taking on men's roles; Ratdog couldn't care less, but Klemper, ironically (given that some of his own actions don't exactly fit gender norms), is quite offended by her temerity. When he first sees her with her rifle (actually, her lover Boris's Russian rifle), he shouts, "Hey Flintenweib (Rifle Broad), didn't your mother teach you you belong in the kitchen?" Didrika shouts back, "Looks like you still belong with your mother, little Toy Soldier!" Ratdog can't help it; he laughs. Klemper and Didrika trade verbal barbs every time they cross paths, and Ratdog and Didrika are obligated to try to shoot each other, though there's more grudging respect involved than anything. They even end up aiding each other more often than not, with Ratdog and Klemper secretly turning on the Nazis and directing refugees in Didrika's direction.

Toward the end of the war, within days of each other, both Boris and Klemper are wounded. Ratdog comes across Boris hiding in a trench; he's been shot in the gut, is in great pain and bleeding out slowly, and Ratdog has nothing on him with which to help him. He removes all but one bullet from his pistol and gives it to his enemy, the implication silent but obvious. When he turns to leave, Boris aims the gun at him (this would've been one of those cocking-gun moments 😒 ) and says, "I can at least take out one of you Krauts before I die." "Would it be worth it, though?" Ratdog says, and leaves without looking back. Some distance away, he flinches when he hears the gunshot, then keeps walking.

Not long after (at least, I think it's in this order--unsure), Klemper is also shot. He initially looks as if he'll make it, when Ratdog removes the bullet and takes him to his forest home to recover; but Klemper dies in his sleep, bleeding out from another wound that Ratdog had overlooked in the initial mess of blood. The loss strikes him especially hard, not just because he lost his love, but also because he feels he let Klemper down, plus his negligence is reminiscent of the time he lost his son. He buries Klemper beside his son, not far from his home. While trekking through an open space a bit later, he hears a bang and feels a burning in his side--somebody has shot him. He collapses and, hearing footsteps, looks up to see Didrika approaching, gun still aimed at him, hate in her eyes. She found Boris after his suicide, and recognized Ratdog's gun in his hand. She deliberately wounded rather than killed Ratdog because "I want you to know it was me, and I want you to suffer slowly." "Like he would have?" Ratdog says. When Didrika angrily insists Ratdog could have helped Boris, he says he couldn't, and that what he did was the only solution he had. She threatens to shoot him again and he snaps, "Go ahead! I have nothing left to lose. My life is gone already." Didrika doesn't shoot, however; her breath starts hitching and her eyes fill with tears. "I loved him," she says, voice cracking, and sinks to her knees. "I should have been there with him"--and she breaks down crying. Ratdog's own eyes blur looking at her--they've both lost everything--but before he can say anything else, he passes out from blood loss. He comes to a while later in his own home, in his own bed--where Klemper had died--with his wound patched up. As soon as Didrika saw just how badly injured he was, she'd yelled, "Not you! Not you too!" and managed to get him back to his home and stop the bleeding. They haltingly begin to talk. She'd noticed the fresh grave decorated with Klemper's Stahlhelm and Iron Cross; she remembers the "Toy Soldier" who used to call her Rifle Broad. "I loved him," Ratdog echoes her own earlier words, and just as she had, breaks down.

It isn't something that happens instantly, not by a long shot, but Ratdog and Didrika end the story as a couple; post-Ultima Thule they even have two children, a son Didrika names Godfrey, and a daughter named Tatiana (after Boris's deceased sister). They never get married, and never are what you could call husband/wife or even boyfriend/girlfriend; the best term I've found to describe them is partners. They respect and care for each other, and take comfort in each other's company, but I don't think they ever truly fall in love with each other. Rather, they act as each other's placeholder, temporarily filling in the hole in each other's heart. They know neither of them can ever replace their true loves, they're just there to ease the grief and loneliness for now.

(BTW, I'm pretty sure that in a much earlier entry I described a different version of a scene with Didrika tending to a wounded Ratdog. That started out as this scene but has obviously changed. I like the dialogue from the earlier version, so it may be otherwise incorporated.)

...Why did I go into all that when this is Mirela's entry? Well, because I can, and because I didn't get the chance in the previous entries. But also because it leads into why Mirela's plotline changed. As it stands now, the previous idea for her fling with Ratdog doesn't hold up as well. I like the idea of them still hooking up, but it'd most likely have to occur much earlier in the plot, before he gets serious with Klemper. I toyed with the idea of Ratdog cheating on Klemper just once, but considering Klemper's extremely fragile mental state, I don't think it'd go well. So I'm not sure how this plot point goes yet. It may even be that Mirela simply tries to seduce Ratdog as part of a ruse (more in a minute), but then she tries to kill him before they get far. I lean most toward this because it can then occur later in the plot, Ratdog can maintain his faithfulness to Klemper (however barely), and it's more in keeping with Mirela's character than the existing scenario is.

Mirela's character is that she's been sheltered and protected by her doting father most of her life but she longs for independence, to have a purpose. His capture by the Nazis just strengthens this resolve and she wants to do anything in her power to get him back--except she has no power, no skills to speak of. She despises depending on the Trench Rats--she despises depending on any men. She'd like to learn from a woman, and she'd like to learn from the best. She'd like to learn from Didrika.

The Rats, after processing the people they've rescued, attempt to relocate them to the most appropriate parties--some go to the partisans led by Champere, some to the Diamond Network, some to Didrika and some lucky ones back to their surviving families. (Though the Network occasionally takes in rescues permanently--for example, Helena Urbach, and the Wolfsteins--Champere doesn't, and Didrika accepts only men who know how to fight. Otherwise, they just help shuttle these people to safety.) Didrika's not interested in taking the time to train anybody, especially a woman who's nowhere near as valuable as a male fighter. (Yep, kind of ironic, considering.) Still, Mirela tries to argue her case. Didrika's not too convinced, but Mirela's really passionate about her cause, and being Romani like Didrika doesn't hurt either. She agrees to take Mirela on, just temporarily--"Until you get your father back"--but Mirela has to keep up and hold her own. Didrika's not going to slow down the rest of her men for Mirela's benefit. Oh, and Mirela will have to look out for herself around all those men, too. Mirela agrees as well, and starts her stint learning how to fight alongside them.

She's...really not good at it, at first. Clumsy, soft, weak. Tears fill her eyes easily but she just wipes them away and keeps trying despite how much she fails. More than once Didrika threatens to just leave her behind, and more than once Mirela does almost get left behind. She really does try, but it gets hard to keep her spirits up when she just sucks so much at everything she does.

This scenario popped into my head literally as I was typing this. Didrika quickly gets fed up with Mirela, but it turns out she has an unexpected ally. Boris, usually no-nonsense, blunt, and unconcerned about anyone but Didrika and the few of his men who deserted the Red Army with him and joined Didrika's forces, takes pity on this young, slight woman who can't get anything right but keeps trying anyway. Without Didrika knowing, he takes her aside and offers to train her himself--he's not Didrika, but he's the best she'll get. When Mirela asks why he's interested, he admits she reminds him of his late younger sister, Tatiana, who also fought in the Red Army: "She never f**king gave up anything, got her killed, but she never did quit." Mirela accepts, and whenever there's a spare moment he teaches her various skills such as shooting (both with a pistol and with a rifle) and hand-to-hand fighting. She does learn, though she's still just not naturally skilled like most of the others, and this frustrates her. Boris advises that it's a matter of her finding her own particular skill. It's not shooting, it's not fighting, what is it? Mirela has no idea. Boris hands her a knife, demonstrates how to use it, and tells her to give it a try. Mirela comes remarkably close to hitting the target on the first try. Tries again--bullseye. Repeats it. Fights to contain her excitement; Boris just smiles and says, "So you're not a gunwoman, you're a knifewoman."

(Hey folks! Story creation in progress! I literally just came up with that whole bit right now. And yeah, it's similar to a (unfinished?) scene in my adult Ameni Chronicles series with Tas'hukh and Ri'hus, I believe, except that involves archery. Anyway. Oh, plus I looked to see if "knifewoman" has a German translation similar to Flintenweib. The term is Messerstecherin. This literally means "knifer" or "stabber." HAHAHAHAHAHA YES.)

Mirela never really gets better than average when it comes to shooting--which is the majority of activity Didrika's men engage in--but she practices constantly and gets really good with the knife. She wins a fight or two against Boris but he says the real test is Didrika herself. Takes some convincing, again, to get her to agree to a fight, but she finally does, to get Mirela off her back. Mirela loses--but not before slashing Didrika's arm open. Everyone holds their breath as Didrika clasps the wound--expecting a tirade--but Didrika merely looks at her and says, "Now you need to learn to aim for the throat."

(Privately, Didrika finds out Boris had a hand in this and exclaims, exasperated, "Seriously? You did this? What exactly are you trying to do or to prove, are you trying to make me look stupid?" Boris scoffs back, "Come now! You can't tell me you don't see yourself in her anywhere?" Which shuts Didrika up, because it's true, and likely the reason she's been reluctant to train Mirela--she doesn't like how she reminds her of her own past. She's a bit sore at Boris for the stunt, though.)

Why knives? I haven't looked back at the original adult scenes (they're cringey to me by now) to make sure, but as the two of them fight, Mirela grabs a sharp implement of some kind and attempts to stab Ratdog with it; I think she does cut him, similar to this Didrika scene. So that still fits. It also fits with the idea that in order to kill Ratdog, she'd have to get close to him, so using seduction as a ruse seems likely. (Plus this here is something Didrika can help with, as she's had plenty of experience with that.) I'm leaning toward the new scenario including Ratdog STARTING to fall for Mirela's ruse, but quickly noping out when, y'know, she tries to stab him. He succeeds in subduing and disarming her, but she pulls a Klemper and jams her knee in his groin, then headbutts him to get him to let her go. Her plan is thwarted but she escapes unharmed. Ratdog, meanwhile, is later confronted by Klemper, who gives him a sour look, arms crossed, and simply says, "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Ratdog's got nothing. Except a sore head and groin, I guess.

I already mentioned Mirela's initial interactions with Cpl. Gold Rat. Late in the story she comes back into touch with him; by now, he's been promoted to sergeant to assume the deceased Black Rat's place, and is recovering from serious injuries of his own. (Like Black--and like Black's killer, Schavitz--he loses an eye, and I think his leg or arm is mildly injured as well but as things are coming to a head, he insists on remaining in service.) His formerly brash, casual attitude has been tempered quite a bit and Mirela is surprised at how he's changed; he's surprised by how she's grown up and changed as well. As they interact she finds herself drawn to him, though he shows no signs of reciprocating, so she assumes he isn't interested. He learns that she's still hoping to find her father, though her hopes have dimmed considerably given the passage of time. Gold asks LC Mahogany Rat, who was able to find out what had become of Helena Urbach's husband, to try to do the same with Nikolas. It takes quite a bit of digging but Mahogany finds out the camp he was first brought to, then follows the trail to track him down to his last known location--as it turns out, the nearby concentration camp headed by Commandant Klaus. The Allies have just moved into the city and are in the process of liberating the camp, but it's a huge camp, so this will take a while. The fleeing SS guards made off with their records and everything's confusing at the moment. This is a combination labor and extermination camp, so Nikolas's current status is unknown, and it could take weeks to find him, if ever. And that's only if he's alive--if he was gassed immediately on entering the camp, there may likely be no record of him whatsoever even if the Trench Rats locate the records. Gold decides to take a risk. Maj. Klaus has been captured alive and is well known for his proclivity for taking bribes and making bargains, so Gold makes a bargain with him: He won't be executed for war crimes, if he provides what info he has on his inmates. (Gold doesn't really have the authority to promise this, so presumably there's a bit more involved than just his word.) Klaus agrees, and gives up what he knows regarding not just the possible location of the confiscated records, but individual details of his own recollection. Did his camp have any Zigeuner (Gypsies), Gold asks? It did, Klaus replies. Gold keeps asking questions to narrow it down and finally thinks he may have accounted for Mirela's father being in the camp, still alive. Klaus isn't sure of his exact location but gives a general idea of where the Zigeuner inmates were last located. As Gold departs, Klaus calls out, "You may want to hurry yourself, Herr Gold, most of 'em weren't in great shape. Killing 'em off would've been a mercy."

Gold, Mahogany, and Mirela--who's not aware of their actual purpose for visiting--arrive and witness the chaos going on within and around the camp, swarms of half-starved inmates crowding near the fences, many sitting or lying on the ground, at least some of them already dying. Allied troops weave in and out but are easily outnumbered by the vast number of prisoners. The three start walking along the fence, Gold and Mahogany trying to ask about Nikolas, but everyone is either ignorant of his whereabouts or too weak to respond. Mirela walks off ahead of the other two, staring dejectedly at the hollow-eyed captives, but halts when she realizes someone far off is calling out, "Mir? Little Mir!" That was the pet name her father used for her, even right down to while they were being chased by the Nazis. Mirela glances around, calls out, "Papa--?" but can't see him anywhere. Paces back and forth along the fence, crying out at the voice, before the crowd thins out enough for her to catch a glimpse further inside. There, sitting in the yard, too weak and injured to do anything but crawl, his eyes nonetheless light up when he sees her--Nikolas. Mirela panics a moment trying to figure out how to get into the camp to reach him; Gold and Mahogany locate an opening in the fence and she rushes to her father, dropping down and throwing her arms around him. He's near skeletal, quite ill, unable to walk, and was most likely due to be gassed sometime soon, but he's alive. This whole time he'd assumed that she'd ended up captured as well and was likely tortured or killed; it was only looking up at the moon at night that convinced him to hold on, as this was something they used to do together, and he wanted to believe she was looking at it too. "Herr Gott has brought you back to me," he exclaims; when Mirela shakes her head and says, "Nein...they did," and gestures at Gold and Mahogany, Nikolas replies, "Herr Gott had them bring you back to me."

Nikolas is in bad shape, so they immediately take him back to Trench Rat Headquarters for medical attention. He has tuberculosis and both of his feet are badly infected; Burgundy warns he may not be able to save his left leg; Nikolas replies that he can live without his legs, he can't live without Mirela. Burgundy and LC Amaranth Rat do their best, and amputate Nikolas's left leg below the knee. Mirela keeps him company as he recuperates and is treated for the TB, and he can't help but notice how she looks at Gold when he visits; she denies it at first when Nikolas asks if she has feelings for him, but finally admits it, though she adds that 1. Gold isn't interested in return, and 2. he's a gadjo, an outsider. Her father asks how does she know he isn't interested, and finds out she's never asked him; regarding the other, more pressing matter, Nikolas says, "You really think such a thing matters much anymore...? When they've killed most of us? I do not even know if the rest of our clan is still alive or not." If Mirela is truly interested in Gold, and if Gold at the very least treats her well and with respect, he sees little wrong in the two of them being involved with each other; he promises to give his blessing.

Mirela confronts Gold and decides to just out and ask it: "Do you like me?" Gold just stares at her for a moment before saying, "What...?" Mirela promptly loses her nerve and tells him never mind but he adds, "Wait--what do you mean by 'like'?" but by then Mirela is just utterly humiliated, tells him never mind again, and turns to leave. As she steps away she hears him call out, "I think you're beautiful." Mirela halts, slowly turns back. "And smart," Gold says. "And brave. And clever...and kind." Mirela hesitantly says, "So...you do like me?" to which he replies, "I'm not sure how much clearer I can make it." When she exclaims, "But--you never said anything," Gold furrows his brow and says, "Me?...you never asked."

So, despite their rocky beginning, Mirela and Gold end up a couple after all. They show up again in Ultima Thule with Gold heading to the Alpine Fortress with the main group (including Ratdog and Capt. Himmel), while Mirela remains with the others (including Helena and Didrika) who man the radio to maintain contact. After the war, she and Gold and sometimes Nikolas often stop by to visit Himmel and Johanna Wolfstein at the big country mansion they share with Himmel's adult son Kolten and the various children Himmel and Johanna adopt, as well as Ratdog and Didrika and their children, and Jakob Wolfstein and the occasional other Trench Rat who remains in the country. I'm not sure if Gold and Mirela ever have any kids of their own (if not, it's not by choice, it's just what happens), though whatever the outcome, I'm sure Nikolas doesn't mind; they're alive, they're happy, that's what counts.

[Mirela 2022 [‎Saturday, ‎August ‎20, ‎2022, ‏‎4:00:14 AM]]

#artists on tumblr #ibisPaint x #SketchDaily #original characters

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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

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When In Italy Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

He remembered your order.

It was all you could think about after you sat down, a waitress coming quickly to your table and he gave you a look, asking you if that’s what you wanted. You gave a small nod and you refrained from commenting on it, not wanting to stroke his already enlarged ego you are sure has only gotten big since you have seen him last based on… well everything.

The waitress thanked you both, taking your menus and leaving the two of you alone, giving one another an awkward smile before you looked down at your hands, now regretting pretending to not know what to order in order to hide behind your menu a bit more.

“So…” Harry began, fingers drumming onto the table, “how have you been?”

You let out an airy laugh, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow before leaning back in the woven dining chair, warm Italian sun hitting your face as you looked out at the view and back to him, not even sure what to say. You, obviously, were not doing great and he was.

You open your mouth to start to answer but stop when the waitress comes back, placing the cool, water glasses in front of you and they quickly become interesting as you watch the condensation drop down from the glass onto the table.

“Y/n…” Harry began, looking up at you and sighing when your eyes met, “Can you talk to me? I just want to see what you’ve been up to.”

“What about you?” You counter, heart pounding against your chest, “I feel like you’re the one who needs to check in and share some updates more than anyone else, don’t you think?”

“I guess I deserve that.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water and looking at you over the glass causing you to scoff.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” you glare, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart, “really makes the whole situation better.”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” He nodded, holding his hands up in defense, “but I didn’t know you were going to be there, I would have never brought her if I would have known that, obviously and I’m sorry it happened this way but I’m glad I saw you, I’m glad to see you.”

“Who is she?”

He looked surprised by your question, not expecting you to rip the band-aid off in the way that you did. But, you knew him. Better than anyone you’ve ever known in your life and you couldn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this so much. You also needed this for yourself, not wanting to fall for his famous charm, looking into those beautiful, jade eyes you knew you would be done for.

It’s the reason your sitting across from at this table at all, not being able to resist his smile, his sot, caring voice as he asked you to see him, having no idea what you would be getting into all, you said yes without any hesitation and you decided in that moment, watching as he went around the clear high priority topic with ease.

“Her name is Olivia.” He sighed, “she’s the director of the movie I’m going to be in and…”

“You’re together?”

He didn’t answer, looking at his hands.

You nodded, taking his silence as the clear answer and you bit your bottom lip hard, tasting blood as your teeth sunk into the flesh, hoping the pain would stop the tears that were stinging your eyes. You could feel your hands shake and you let out a sigh, standing up from the table and running your hands over your skirt, frustrated he didn’t even have the nerve to come out and simply say it.

“I-I’m going to go,” You began to ramble, looking down at the water glass and you dug through your bag, looking for money to pay for your meal and tip the waitress, even though it wasn’t yet served to you, eyes burning as you did your best to keep in your tears.

“Please stay.” He whispered and you shook your head rapidly, pulling out your wallet and looking for a big enough bill, “Okay, let me just drive you back, put your wallet away this is on me.I asked you to come.” He added, pulling out his wallet and laying down a more than generous amount.

“No, please.” You whispered, stepping back as you stepped closer to you, “just, stay. Take my food with you. I’m gonna book a flight home and you guys can have the house to yourselves by tomorrow night.”

“Y/n-”

“Goodbye, Harry.”

You ignored his calls of your name, walking down the pavestone as you made your way through the quaint town, passing the many boutiques and gelato shops you two went through a dozen times.You also did your best to ignore the longing look of pity as you passed by the strangers, thankful your italian wasn’t as good as his, that way you didn’t have to also hear what they were saying about you.

You wandered your way through the beautiful village, wishing it brought you the same amount of joy as it always did, but not it just left you a bitter taste in your mouth, reaching for your phone and calling for a cab, looking up flights the second the car pulled up.

***

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your alarm, heart wrenching at the realization that all of this was real and you fist rubbed your swollen eyes, sniffling as you sat up and the details all came back to you.

“He found someone else already.” you had sobbed into the phone to your best friend, clutching at your chest as your back was against the front door. “He already moved on, y/bff/n and he brought her here and-and… I-I got a flight home and I just don’t know what to do.”

You were beginning to hyperventilate, mind being unable to wrap around the fact that he had moved on so quickly, the man you thought you were going to marry, being together for years, had already moved on to someone else.

Your best friend had done her best to calm you, begging you to let them fly there to help get your things together, to at least meet you at a connecting flight so you weren’t flying home completely alone, but you didn’t allow it, knowing how much trouble they would get into with their boss.

“I’ll be there to pick you up.” they told you, after a long pause, their heart was breaking at the sound of your cries, “You’re gonna make it through this, y/n. I know you are.”

You weakly stumbled out of bed, walking straight to the closet and, once again, pulling your bags out and throwing them onto the bed, throwing your all clothes into a messy pile and zipping up the bag, pushing it into the hallway after quickly changed into a clean outfit, slipping on a pair of sneakers as you got ready for your flight home.

Forcing yourself to brush your teeth and run a comb through your hair was harder than you had ever imagined, hating to have to look at your reflection as the face of her was being compared side by side in your mind. You hated yourself more for wishing that Harry tried a little harder, wishing that he had ran after you and tried to at least explain more, extend the olive branch so to speak, even though it would never fully heal your wounds.

Your anxious mind wouldn’t stop reliving your morning with Harry and you couldn’t help but have regrets, wondering if you overreacted, wondering what would have happened if you stayed for the rest of the meal.

Could you ever be friends?

Pushing yourself away from the counter you hoped that the thoughts would subside, wishing you knew the answers but knowing you never would. You shuffled your way into the living room, curling up on the couch as you waited for the car to come pick you up and take you to the airport, not having the energy to reach to pick up the remote so you sat in silence.

Although it felt like minutes, an hour soon passed and you heard the knock at the door and you forced yourself up, grabbing your suitcase and wheeling it behind you as you opened the door, being greeted by the driver who took your suitcase from you and loaded it into the car as you followed behind, finding your place in the backseat.

The time went faster than you thought it would, the drive to the airports, the security line, flights, layovers, all of it. The next thing you knew you were walking down the steps of the airport, seeing the face of your best friend and running towards them, dropping your suitcase in the process as they quickly took you in their arms, holding you as tight as they could.

“I got you.” They whispered, rubbing your back as your tears sunk into the fabric of the fabric covering their shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?” you horsley whispered, “my heart hurts so much.”

“I know, I know.” They whispered back, pulling back and looking you into the eyes, giving you a smile and wiping away your tears, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You are an incredible human being, y/n, you are so unbelievably strong andI know that you can do this and I’m going to be there for you every single step of the way, okay?. ”

And they were.

Being there for you every single step of the way for the next two weeks since you got back from your trip and even moved into your apartment with you for a few days at first as you adjusted. Holding you every single time that you cried, always checking in and making sure that you were taking care of yourself and always being there for you to talk about everything, even though you weren’t quite ready yet, they were there for you when you were going to be and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

Now, after a couple weeks of healing, after your plummet on your journey of healing post break up, you felt like you were back on your way up. You started leaving your apartment more again and y/bff/n even got you to go out with them and a couple of friends one night.

Actually starting to feel better and even starting to feel a lot more like yourself.

Your phone buzzed and you quickly took a look down at it, seeing a text from y/bff/n

Be there soon! i can't wait to try out this new coffee place!

You smiled and sent back your quick reply, letting her know you were going to head downstairs touching up your makeup quickly as you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled back at your reflection, seeing the glow and fullness starting to come back to your face, the circles under your eyes slowly disappearing more and more everyday.

Grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter and sliding on your shoes you got ready to leave your apartment, heading out the door and locking the door behind you, jiggling the handle to endure it was locked before turning on your heel to head out. You go to reach for the elevator button, but it dings as it announces its arrival and you step out of the way, allowing whatever neighbor to have a clear path to their apartment. Instead, you're met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Harry?”

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ghost-ghost-baby · 3 years

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We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 5/5

pt 1 / pt 2/ pt 3/pt 4

omegaverse lore

lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

a/n: FINALLY WE DID IT!!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT ITS 4K WORDS!!!! ENJOY!!! general nsfw hcs will b posted at some point, gonna make a diff taglist for it tho so lemme know if u wanna b on it. Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, untraditional omegaverse roles, gets a bit spicy towards the end

“Okay, so, we’re inviting Kirishima, Sero, Jirou, she’ll wanna bring her mate Yamomo, and Yamomo will wanna bring her bestie Shoto, of course.” you had no idea what Denki and Mina were going on about, you and Izuku were waiting in the park while Katsuki finished up an exam, and the pair had cornered you with plans for your party. Izuku had been extra clingy, he’d held your hand all the way to school, and then inched his seat closer to yours in class so he could keep touching you in any way possible, and now he was practically in your lap, arms possessively wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder.

“Uh, okay, I wanna invite Shinso too, I know he’s Mr. Aizawas kid but he’s really nice, oh and Tokoyami, he might wanna bring Tsuyu-“ You were distracted, not that your friends noticed, by Izuku’s arms tightening around your waist, and you only realised he let out a growl because you felt it vibrate from his chest and into his throat. Your friends were still rambling, completely ignoring you and your mate, so you turned to Izuku with a questioning look.

“You okay?”

“I don’t like the way Shinso looks at you, why are you inviting him?” Izuku pouted, and you shook your head, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Don’t be silly, now Izuku. I’m with you and Katsuki, I’m only inviting him so he can make more friends!” Your answer soothed your mate, although barely, he’d just have to stick to you like glue for the entire party.

“Let’s go, c’mon.” Katsuki pulled Deku up by the back of his shirt, ignoring the omegas cry of protest to offer you a hand, gripping it tighter than usual and pulling you up, wrapping his arm around your waist as soon as you were standing, Izuku grumbling as he made his way to your other side.

“Wow Bakubro- the exam was that bad, huh?” Denki’s question was only met with a growl from Katsuki, and you shushed him before you turned back to your friends.

“Sorry guys but you heard the man! Text me if you need any help with the party but I already told you what I want!” You waved, Denki and Mina waving back from their place on the grass, and you heard them giggle as Katsuki pulled you away, the omegas scent much stronger than usual.

You headed right for the shower when you got home, only stopping to grab a towel, with your mates hot on your heels.

“What’re- what’re you guys doing-?” You were about to start stripping when you noticed them standing in the door, Katsuki with a frown and his arms crossed, Izuku hanging off him with an expression you could only describe as eager.

“You weren’t planning on leaving us, were you?” Izuku pouted, and for a moment you were too shocked to speak.

“I’m just- I’m just having a shower?” You frowned at the pair, and Katsuki let out a growl at your response.

“Why do you have to leave us for it though, we could shower together-“

“Katsuki! Absolutely not! The shower’s barely big enough for one person, no way the three of us are squeezing in there!” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest and staring down your mates. Katsuki was glowering at you, which you were used to, however, you were not used to Izuku’s puppy dog eyes, you never stood a chance against that.

“Fucking fine- you can stay in the bathroom, but if you so much as touch the shower curtain I’m locking myself in my room and not coming out until tomorrow, got it?”

“Yes alpha! Thank you!” Izuku flung himself at you, Katsuki joining less than a second later, at least they weren’t fucking growling at each other anymore.

“I forgot clean clothes, would one of you be okay getting me some? I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” You almost fell when they pulled away, you didn’t realise how much you’d been leaning on them, and Izuku was answering without hesitation.

“I’ll grab you some of mine!” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he headed off, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a growl, quickly following Izuku’s kiss before he went after the other omega.

“Like hell they’re just wearing your clothes!”

The solution was Katsuki’s hoodie, and a pair of Izuku’s shorts, brought to the bathroom in record time, and both omegas looked so proud of themselves for compromising you got distracted showering them in praise and kisses for a good five minutes. Your actual shower was uneventful, although the conversation with your mates made it fly by, and you still made them turn around when you got out to dry off and get changed. Then you were being bombarded with kisses from your mates, and coos of how cute you looked in their clothes had you blushing. Then they’d ushered you to the kitchen, and Katsuki wrapped your arms around him before he started cooking, even nodding at Izuku for him to join, although he ordered the other omega to get him ingredients. Izuku didn’t seem to mind though, and he pressed kisses to your cheeks and lips every chance he got, even daring to press a few daring kisses to Katsuki’s cheek, which merely got a huff instead of the growl it would have in the past.

“You’ve been awfully good today, Kacchan.” You’d taken to calling Katsuki by the nickname, which still got a growl when you used it, but he was so cute when he got grumpy. He couldn’t help but let out a purr at the praise, it rumbled up through his chest and even Katsuki was shocked by how loud it was, he looked like a started cat, and you and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh, something you both got yelled at for.

“Okay guys, I’m gonna turn in for the night.” You yawned, trying to get up but being stopped by Izuku’s arm around your waist. Your movement woke Katsuki up from the doze he’d fallen into after dinner, and his red eyes were sleepily blinking up at you from where his head rested on your lap.

“Zuku? You okay…?” You shot your mate a questioning look, and Izuku bit his lower lip as he thought.

“Yeah, shitty Deku, they wanna go to bed, so do I.” Katsuki was finally coherent, although he made no move to get up.

“I wanna scent you first.”

“Huh- you scented me right after dinner-?” You were confused, and Izuku’s request had Katsuki bolting up and wide awake.

“Yeah but- I don’t know- y-your scent it’s- it’s stronger than- than normal and-and mine just keeps wearing off and- I don’t like it when you don’t- when you don’t smell like me.” Izuku was a blushing mess by the time he finished speaking, he always got that way when scenting came up, and you leant forward to kiss him before you spoke.

“You can scent me as much as you want, but can you do it in bed?” Your question had Izuku’s face going even redder, and the omega was too flustered to speak, which had Katsuki cackling.

“You broke him, Y/n! Apparently scenting in bed is too scandalous for sweet little Deku.” He grinned at Izuku before turning to you, “However, I have no problem scenting you in bed, he’s right about your scent overpowering ours lately.” Katsuki finally sat up, stretching more than he needed to in order to wack Izuku over the head.

“It’s not- not too scandalous-! Y/n, tell Kacchan to stop being mean!” Izuku whined, cuddling close to your side to rest his head on your shoulder and glaring at your other mate.

“Oi! Don’t bring them into this!” Katsuki growled, and Izuku only smirked, maintaining eye contact with the blonde as he leant forward to bite your neck, hard enough it had you yelping and Katsuki snarling as he pulled you to him.

“Hey- guys- what happened to- oh…” You trailed off when Katsuki started kissing from your collar up to your jaw, the blonde smirking at Izuku when you melted against him.

“That’s so not fair-!” Izuku followed, crawling forward until he was basically on your lap and you were trapped between the two of them, with their scents almost overwhelming you. “Y/n, look at me!” You didn’t even realise you’d closed your eyes until Izuku was whining and grabbing your face, green eyes darting to Katsuki still mouthing at your neck before he leant forward and forced his lips to yours, your eyes once again fluttering closed as you reached up to wrap your arms around Izuku’s neck. His lips were always so soft, and he kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him sane. You were brought back to the present when Katsuki bit down right above your scent gland, the pain and the placement clearing your head enough that you could push Izuku off and stagger to your feet, wiping your mouth as you tried to regain control of your breathing.

“B-Bed, guys-“ your head was still foggy, and you shook it to try and clear the haze. It worked, partially, but once it was gone you were so, so tired, you were ready to collapse.

“Look what you did Kacchan- you ruined all the fun.” Izuku pouted, but he was rushing to your side without hesitation, wrapping your arm around him so you had someone to lean on, Katsuki only huffing and joining the two of you a moment later, shoving himself under your arm on your free side.

“If both of you shut the fuck up and take me to bed I’ll still let you scent me, but don’t push it.” You growled before Katsuki could say anything, and both omegas shut right up at your words, bowing their heads as they practically carried you to your room.

You hit the bed with a relieved sigh, already closing your eyes before Katsuki cleared his throat, and you opened one eye to look at him, a moment passing before you realised why both your mates were just standing there staring at you.

“Oh, right, sorry!” You pushed yourself back up, automatically baring your neck and almost giving your mates an aneurism at the sight of you. Katsuki all but jumped on you in his eagerness, quickly smothering your startled noises with a kiss before he rubbed his wrist on his own neck and then rubbed his wrist over almost every inch of you, until you were completely covered in the smell of caramel.

“Don’t hog them!” Izuku was next to you just as Katsuki finished, and he shoved Katsuki out of the way so he could proceed to scent you too, although he chose to rub his scent gland directly over yours first, and you almost pulled back with a yelp from how intense it was. You somehow held it together until Izuku was satisfied that his and Katsuki’s scents were even, although the omega took over ten minutes, thankfully for most of it he was doing the same as Katsuki, but your eyes were still drooping closed by the end, and you would have fallen back if Katsuki hadn’t moved behind you to help prop you up, his arms wrapped low around your waist.

“Are you almost done, Deku? They’re practically asleep in my lap.” You could hear the smirk in his voice even if you couldn’t see him, and Izuku only huffed in response, although his eyes softened when you offered him a sleepy half smile. You looked so sweet, eyes lidded and face flushed, was this what you’d look like when-

“Oi! I asked you a question.” Katsuki leant forward to shove Izuku, and that snapped the omega out of his… more unsavoury thoughts.

“Sorry Kacchan! Y/n’s just so cute when they’re all soft and pliable like this, I got distracted!” Izuku grinned, quickly leaning forward to kiss you before Katsuki could yell, and you did your best to kiss your mate back despite your half asleep state. You didn’t want to pull away, but Katsuki didn’t have an issue breaking the two of you up, something you were thankful for, in that moment at least.

“Enough getting distracted, they need sleep.” The blonde manoeuvred you so you were laying down facing him, and Izuku let out a huff as he followed suit, mumbling something about how Kacchan always ruined his fun. You shushed both of them before Katsuki could reply, tugging the blonde closer for a kiss to stop him grumbling, then you were grabbing Izuku’s hands, pressing your head to Katsuki’s chest, and finally falling asleep.

You woke up covered in sweat, the hoodie you’d worn to bed now feeling like it was suffocating you combined with the heat your mates gave off, and you gently slipped out of bed, throwing the hoodie off and letting out a sigh of relief when you were just in a tank top. You still had twenty minutes before you needed to get up, and you turned to wake your mates, only to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself squeaking. Neither of them had woken up despite you moving, but Izuku must have moved closer to Katsuki in his sleep, and the two of them were cuddling, with Izuku’s head nestled against Katsuki’s chest. You quickly grabbed your phone, making sure it was on silent mode, before you proceeded to take a rather excessive amount of pictures of your mates. Then, still being as quiet as you could, you made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. You made yourself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, taking a seat at the counter before you opened your messages, quickly finding the group chat with Mina and Denki, and sending through one of the pictures. The response was instant, Mina going into all caps to scream about how cute it was, and Denki sent through a spam of keyboard smashes, also in all caps. You kept chatting to them while you finished your breakfast, but a yell from your room had you texting them goodbye and putting your phone down. Any minute now.

“Get the fuck away from me, Deku!”

“I was asleep, Kacchan, it wasn’t my fault! You’re the one that did this to me!”

“I thought you were Y/n, stop following me!”

“I’m not following you, I’m trying to find-“

“Y/n!”

“Y/n! Kacchan is being mean again!” Your mates turned the corner into the kitchen, Izuku sprinting to your side, and your eyes widened at the mark on his neck.

“Damn, what happened?” Izuku wrapped his arms around your waist, whining until you bared your neck for him so he could rub his cheek over your scent gland.

“I was just sleeping, alpha! And then Kacchan bit me!” Izuku whined against your neck, and you cooed as you reached up to play with his hair, calmly brushing through the curls and turning your gaze to Katsuki with raised eyebrows. At least the blonde looked sheepish, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck before he answered you.

“You’re usually the one in front of me, how the fuck was I supposed to know it was shitty Deku. When did you even leave, huh? You’re meant to wake me up.” Katsuki growled, and you sighed and shook your head, he really couldn’t take the blame for anything, huh? Still, you gestured for him to join the hug, which he happily did, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I know you were expecting me, Katsuki, but you really uh- gave Izuku a shock, can you apologise? For me?” You cooed, only getting a growl in response, so you pulled away with a sigh, Izuku whining in protest at the loss of contact.

“Katsuki-“

“Fine. Sorry for biting you, Deku, even though it was your fault for cuddling me.” The blonde growled, but you weren’t going to get any better, and Izuku seemed happy enough, by the way he was hugging Katsuki.

“See, there we go! Izuku and I gotta get ready for class now!” Your words had both of them turning to you with a growl, and you could only look at them in confusion.

“We’re not going to class today, Y/n.” Izuku pulled away from Katsuki to look at you, and you were cut off before you could ask why.

“Yeah, your birthday’s tomorrow and you fucking reek, no way you’re leaving the apartment.” Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest, and you grabbed your phone with a rather dramatic sigh.

“Fine, guess I’m stuck here with you idiots.”

You’d gotten yelled at for that remark, and Katsuki was still sulking when he pulled away to go and shower, Izuku tugging you to the couch the second Katsuki was out of view.

“You still wanna scent me? We’re not leaving the house-“ Izuku kissed you to cut you off, and all thoughts went out the window as you kissed him back, letting him lay you down on the couch and pin you under him with his weight. Your head tilted back when Izuku pulled away to kiss down your jaw and neck, your hands automatically tangling in his hair to tug him closer, and Izuku let out a whine that had your scent going haywire. He kept going down, peppering kisses and sucking marks over your collarbone before he moved to your chest, and you briefly wondered where he was going with this, but then Izuku was lifting your shirt up for better access. He stayed at your chest for a few more minutes before he continued, pressing kisses to your ribs and stomach, and your heart was in your throat as he reached your hip, but then the omega just, stopped, resting his head on your hip and just gazing at you from between your thighs.

“You’re so pretty when you’re all hot and bothered like this, alpha! Are you disappointed that I stopped?” Izuku chirped, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, and you were quickly grabbing a pillow to cover your rapidly growing blush, while Izuku just looked at you and giggled.

“Kacchan! Pass that shirt to me when you’re done!” Izuku was seated on the bed, casually scenting anything Katsuki had scented and thrown his way, as if this was the most normal occurrence ever. And it almost was, except for the fact you were stuck in the middle of the bed, getting growled at if you so much as shifted your position. They wanted to ‘build the nest around you’ apparently, which was something you’d never heard of, but you weren’t going to argue with your birthday a mere day away, Katsuki and Izuku had been… on edge lately.

“Arms please!” Izuku’s chirp broke you out of your thoughts, and you hesitantly held out your arms, although you got the message when Izuku leaned back against you, and you were wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder without a second thought. A shirt was hitting you in the face seconds later, and you yelped at the impact, throwing the shirt right back at Katsuki.

“What was that for!” He snarled, throwing the shirt back at you and huffing when Izuku caught it, although both of your moods improved when he let out a happy hum and proceeded to scent the material before gently folding it and placing it on the bed. You couldn’t resist sticking your tongue out at Katsuki from where you were stuck behind Izuku and the blonde only grumbled as he got back to grabbing bedding from the cupboard you had especially for when he nested. He was… more subdued, than normal. He didn’t growl when Izuku kissed him, and you’d actually caught them cuddling on the couch when you came back from the shower. The lack of bickering was a breath of fresh air, and you couldn’t resist pulling Katsuki in for a kiss when he came to dump more material on the bed. He let out a grunt when you tugged him down, the blonde almost falling on the bed, his arms going either side of of Izuku, who took the opportunity to kiss whatever part of Katsuki’s neck he could. You were the one that had to push him away, and Katsuki growled at you when he lost contact, which caused you to flick his forehead and click your tongue, but Katsuki just pouted and got back to scenting the fabric. See what you meant? You’d be worried if his scent wasn’t so… content.

Movement next to you woke you up, and Katsuki came into focus above you as you blinked away the sleep.

“Good, you’re awake.” The blonde nuzzled into your neck and you tilted your head to the side for him, sleep still heavily clouding your mind so you couldn’t made sense of anything.

“Why am- why am I awake…?” You mumbled, too tired to stop yourself letting out a little moan when Katsuki pressed a kiss to your neck, and you felt him smirk against your skin.

“Your rut’s started, dumbass.”

“Mmmm? I don’t feel… any different… just kinda hot…. You smell really, really good, Katsuki…” Your hands went to his hips, and Katsuki let out an exasperated sigh, resting his forehead on the pillow next to you before he answered.

“God you’re so fucking stupid, that’s my heat, idiot, it woke me up. Deku’s started too but he’s still asleep, so I thought I’d wake you up now, I want to get something straight, okay alpha?” He went back to kissing your neck between words, and you only hummed in response, nodding as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Good, now listen, okay? I was here first, I want to fuck you first, and I want to mark you first too, okay alpha?” His teeth grazed your skin and you whined, your fingers digging into the blondes hips, and you let out a whimper when he bit down, almost breaking the skin.

“Of course, Katsuki- you’ve been so good of course you can…”

“Say it, I wanna hear you say it, alpha.” Katsuki pulled back, bracing his arms and caging you in so you couldn’t look anywhere but his face, and a blush spread over yours in response.

“You can- you can fuck me first, Katsuki-“ you barely finished the sentence before he was kissing you, nipping your bottom lip before he pulled off, his breathing heavier than it was before.

“Good, now, I guess we better wake shitty Deku up.”

The throbbing from both sides of your neck woke you up this time, and you groaned as you tried to move your neck, slowly coming around to your surroundings. You were on your back, with Katsuki’s head on your chest and Izuku’s on your stomach. When you finally sat up slightly, (you didn’t want to wake them) pride flashed through you at the site of the fresh bonding marks, and you couldn’t stop yourself letting out a happy purr. Unfortunately, your back was killing you- so you gently shimmied out of bed, pulling the blankets back over the sleeping pair before you turned to the cupboard to get yourself a shirt. Fuck, your neck was still killing you, maybe icing it would help? You couldn’t help the pained hiss that escaped you when you pulled the shirt over your head, still knocking the bites despite your best efforts to be gentle.

“Y/n…? What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki rubbed his eyes as he sat up, his abrupt movement waking Izuku, who let out a huff at his sleep being interrupted.

“Neck hurts, I was gonna try and ice it.” You looked at yourself in the mirror, no wonder you were in so much pain-

Your neck and shoulders were littered with bites and hickies, some of them rivalling the bonding bites with how deep they were, you probably needed to do more than ice it.

“Oh, right, Deku got carried away.” The blonde let out a groan as he stretched, and when you turned back to them you weren’t surprised to see Izuku pouting.

“You got just as carried away, Kacchan! Don’t try to blame it all on me!” Izuku hopped out of bed despite his half asleep state, shuffling to your side and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he cuddled under your arms, possessively wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Tch, whatever Deku, just take them to the kitchen to get some ice, I’ll check to see if we have witch hazel or arnica to help with the healing.”

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#omegaversse #reader insert #bnha omegaverse #bnha x reader #alpha reader #abo #omegaverse x reader #poly #poly fic #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku x reader #bakugo x reader #deku x reader

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junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

Text

˚₊·˚ “babes” | ot7 ˚₊·˚

↬ pairing: ot7 x reader ↬ genre: fluff | drabbles | scenarios ↬ warnings: none ↬ w/c: 1.3k ↬ requested by: 🤍 ↬ request was: Hihii I was wondering if you could do enhypens reaction to calling them things like baby or my love in your native language (excluding English and Korean) ↬ a/n (a few things !!)

since i clearly don’t what “my love” in everyone’s native language “babes” is the place holder word and you can imagine it as whatever “my love / love” is in your language !! also i haven’t done an ot7 post in a while so these might be kinda bad and lowkey might not make any sense 💔

also, the 500 followers event is closed (unless you decide to send one in tonight then i’ll still write it 👀 !! ) but somehow we hit 800 followers today !! how this blog managed to get like 200 followers while i was ia is beyond me 😭

but thank you everyone 🥺 i’ll be writing requests from the 500 followers throughout the week and responding to asks as well <33

˚₊·˚♤˚· lee heeseung ˚₊·˚♤˚·

late one night you and hee are laying in bed, unable to sleep so you ask him,

“babes, wanna eat some ramen?” he’s like yes, ramen !! but wait,

“babes?” he asks. “isn’t that fish in russian?” (like that whole “te amo” means “i love you” in tagalog / filipino even though it actually means ‘i love you’ in spanish. but yeah, he’d probably think it was something completely different in another language lmao) once you realized what you just called him you tell him,

“it doesn’t mean fish, it means love in [insert your language].” the dots connect in his head and all of a sudden,

“i babes you,” you hear. you can’t help but smile at him and laugh a little because,

“that’s not how the grammar works, but at least you tried.” from then on if he wanted something from you he’d do aegyo and would say.

“babes, please !!”

˚₊·˚✎˚· park jongseong / jay | self indulgent jay mini fic somewhat related to this req ˚₊·˚✎˚·

you’re chilling with jay one day and all of a sudden,

“hey, babes can you hand me the remote?” you ask. suddenly he’s frozen in place, looking at you like,

“did you just call me love in [insert your language]?” you look at him, slightly tilting your head to the side and you’re all like,

“huh, i guess i did.” in his head, his mind is going crazy because what ?? you l-word him ?? but then you’re just like,

“wait, how do you know what that word means?” and then he gets all flustered and begins to ramble.

“i went on a YouTube spiral at four am, and, uh… uhh… yeah, i just heard it. it sounded unique so i sorta just remembered.”

“when?”

“like, a few weeks ago.”

“what were you watching?”

“the basics to [insert your language] 101.” you’re shocked but not really since jay is basically a language genius. but now your heart feels all fuzzy and warm because he’s learning your language.

˚₊·˚ ✁˚· sim jaeyun / jake ˚₊·˚ ✁˚·

if anything, you probably didn’t call him babes first. why? because you said it to layla. you stopped by jake’s place before the both of you went to your parent’s place. since you haven’t seen layla in a while, she instantly captured your attention (like she so rightfully deserves).

“babes, i missed you!” you say as you smile while petting her and seeing her tail wag in happiness. jake looks at the sight of the two loves of his life and can’t stop the way his heart flutters a little. he doesn’t want to ruin the moment but he wants your attention so he ends up sort of sitting on the ground next to layla and peeks up at you with wide eyes and a smile.

“babes?” he asked. you end up also sitting on the floor, layla settling onto your lap,

“it means love in [insert your language].” he frowns,

“you said you love layla before saying you love me?”

“who says i love you?” he gets kind of pouty because he knows that you love but he wants to hear it. some time passes and when you’re at your parent’s house, you’re talking to them and you tell them in [insert your language],

“i love jake.” he hears the word and his name in the same sentence. so he takes a chance and using the same sentence you said but with your name he says,

“i love ___.”

˚₊·˚ ❆˚· park sunghoon ˚₊·˚ ❆˚··

it probably slipped out in a moment of panic while the two of you were ice skating. sometimes you slipped into [insert your language] due to a surge of various emotions, sometimes anger, fear, or frustration. sunghoon had asked if you wanted to go on a date to the new rink that just opened and you said yes because ice skating with hoon, how could you miss the opportunity ?? he was holding your hand and skating to your pace trying to teach you how to ice skate. but somewhere down the line, he ended up letting go without you realizing it (like when you ride a bike and the person behind you holding the bike lets go !!) so you turn around, eyes wide at the distance between you and sunghoon and you’re like,

“YAH, BABES YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T LET GO,” and all of a sudden you lose your balance. thankfully, sunghoon being the great skater that he is manages to get to you and holds so you so that you don’t fall. you’re clutching onto his jacket, trying to catch your breath, “i hate you,” you mutter. he smiles as he moves your hair to get out of your face,

“yeah, keep telling yourself that. wait? what does babes mean?” he asks.

“it means love in [insert your language].” suddenly, ice king composure melts. heart going a hundred miles a minute. mind is all like wait what? he accidentally loses his footing and balance, falling while taking you down with him but you’re fine since you landed on top of him.

“are you ok, babes?” he asks to at least try and keep some cool because even though you’re in an ice skating rink, it suddenly feels as if things just got a hundred degrees hotter.

˚₊·˚❂˚· kim sunoo ˚₊·˚❂˚·

he had been interested in learning about your language and culture, mostly for the food… but a+ for effort, right? he would often ask you, “what does this mean?” “what does that mean?” that kind of stuff, since he was genuinely curious. he picked up a few words here and there, occasionally using a word that he knew in a sentence while talking to you. your family asked you to bring him over for a family gathering / party situation sometimes it felt like they liked him more than you. you were sitting down with a plate of food,

“babes, can you hand me a napkin?” suddenly, your and sunoo’s ears are filled with the sounds of “OOO” and your family begins teasing you. to yourself, you’re just like, did i really just call sunoo… but when you look at sunoo his smile is the widest it’s ever been

“you called me love, matji, matji?” (matji meaning like “right” in korean, idk it just felt right to spell that out here ok anyways)

“how did… how did you know?” and he does that thing where he kind of giggles,

“you just confirmed it!”

˚₊·˚✧˚· yang jungwon ˚₊·˚✧˚·

one night jungwon was dropping you off to the front of your doorstep to make sure you got home safe and sound. you were trying to be cute and said,

“saramhae” (saram means person in korean, but what you really meant to say was, “saranghae” which means i love you in korean). jungwon then does that thing where he smirks at you, tilting his head slightly, and he says,

“nado saramhae, babes.” (so like “i love you too, [love in insert your language]” but it’s saramhae because that’s what you said at first) but then,

“babes?” you ask. he plays it off by saying,

“i’m the leader, i need to learn how to communicate in different languages for engenes.” but really it’s just secret language learner pt. 2 exposed.

˚₊·˚⍢˚· nishimura riki / ni-ki ˚₊·˚⍢˚·

ni-ki’s head was on your lap, eyes closed since he was taking a nap and decided your lap was the best thing to claim as his pillow. you needed to get up so to wake him, you poked his cheeks,

“ni-ki,” you said. nothing.

“riki-ah?” this time as more of a question while lightly patting his hair. also nothing.

“babes, if you don’t wake up i’m gonna shove you off my lap.” suddenly, his eyes open and he looks up at you which causes you to jump back in your seat slightly.

“bae-ehbs?” he asks, trying to sound out the word.

“uh huh.”

“wait doesn’t that mean, love?”

“no… it means pabo,” you reply playfully. (pabo meaning like dum dum / stupid in korean, but it’s not meant to sound offensive here !!)

“no it means ‘love’ jay hyung told me about that word when i started dating you.”

“well, if you knew then why’d you ask?”

“wait, so it actually does mean love?”

“you just said jay told you!”

“yeah but i didn’t believe him.” at the confirmation of the word’s true meaning, he feels happy and kind of giddy at the new name he’s earned for himself from you. like heeseung, he’d use it to get something that he wants from you but instead of aegyo it’s more like teasing.

↬ a/n pt. 2 + semi tmi: i speak two languages and i suck at both, english and my parent’s native language. two & a quarter if you count the bare minimum of spanish i learned from taking it during the first two years of high school and the few words of korean i picked up from kdramas lmao 😭

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul ) | blog masterlist | blog navigation

↬ tagging: @bloom-bloom-pow | @markleepooh | @sunshineshouchan (permanent taglist is open if anyone wants to be in it !!)

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starlessea · 3 years

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I See Red (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Prompt: “If you hurt my brother, I’ll kill you. I swear I’ll kill you all.” Requested by @alex-sulli, numbers #25 and #29 from this post.

Summary: You’ll threaten anyone who dares mess with your little brother; and Daryl is left to pick up the pieces when you feel guilty for doing so.

Words: 2078

Warnings: Language.

Never before in your life had you found yourself at a loss for words. Whether it was rambling to Daryl during the early hours of the morning whilst he grumbled to let him sleep, or giving your father grief like it were an older sibling’s duty, you always had something to say. That was, however, until now.

Carl had his hands held up, directly in front of his face so that they were visible. He shot you a look, urging you to do the same. You didn’t. Instead, you glanced back and forth between your brother and Ron, like you couldn't quite comprehend what was happening.

"It's fine." Carl said, trying to reassure you. "I've got this."

He didn't.

You'd been upstairs, watching over Judith whilst your father and Michonne were on their patrols, when suddenly you heard shouting coming from Carl's room. You sighed, thinking you'd have to scold your teenage brother and his friends for being too rowdy when your little sister was fast asleep in her crib. At first, you let them off the hook, but when glass shattered in the distance you decided enough was enough.

You'd bound down the stairs with the practiced heavy footsteps of an older sister, already preparing your best yelling voice. Except, rather than the row you were expecting to give, you were rendered speechless as you flung open the door.

Ron stood with his arm outstretched, pointing a pistol directly at your brother. Carl glanced back at the sound of you entering his room, and pleaded with you to follow his lead. The other boy remained silent, but shifted his weight on his feet as you glared at him.

Ron was no killer; you watched as his hand trembled over the gun, and he chewed his lip between his teeth. He was no killer - but he was certainly an asshole.

"Put it down." You demanded, taking a few steps closer to him. "Now!"

The boy flinched as you yelled, and Carl glanced back at you nervously. You didn't care what he'd told you; there was no way you'd allow him to diffuse the situation alone. Your innocent baby sister lay asleep upstairs, and your younger brother was facing a loaded gun downstairs. You thought your father would actually kill you if anything happened to either of them on your watch.

Ron fumbled with the gun, narrowing his eyes at you like he was debating your words. You'd expected him to surrender it immediately, and let you march him home to his mother by the ear. Except, he didn't. He trained his aim on you instead, and his shoulders shook even more as he did so. You let out a bitter laugh in disbelief, and raised an eyebrow at him. He didn't back down, but neither did you.

Carl watched the exchange as you walked even closer to Ron, until the barrel of the pistol lay flush against your chest. He didn't pull the trigger; you knew he wouldn't. You could feel the cold metal quivering against your skin, and you took it from him without hesitation.

He let you, and took a few steps back in response to you getting even nearer to his face - so close that you could see his skin prickle from your breath on his cheek.

"If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you." You whispered, letting him feel the gun against his own torso this time. "I swear I'll kill you all."

The boy looked down at his shoes, as your foreheads pressed together.

"You think you can pull a gun on my family?" You questioned, forcing his chin up with your knuckle. "Then wait until you see what I can do to yours."

You unloaded the gun, letting the magazine fall to the floor as you watched the bullets scatter out from it. You took a step back, and watched as Ron seemed to take his first breath. He immediately glanced over at Carl for some support, and you laughed in his face as he did so. You couldn’t believe he dared have the audacity to look to your brother for help not even minutes after threatening to kill him.

"Get out." You spat, and the boy did just that.

Your jacket caught on the handle as you snapped open the door a little too forcefully, and you growled below your breath. You'd been looking forward to returning home all day, and having some time to yourself to relax - but now all you saw was red. You kicked the door shut behind you with your boot, and grimaced at the sound of it slamming, and the glass shaking in the pane.

Daryl looked over at you curiously, raising an eyebrow where he stood in the kitchen. He was covered in grease, and you guessed he'd been working on his motorcycle whilst you were with the teenage firing squad.

"How was yer day?" He drawled, pouring you a glass of water from the sink.

You sighed, and slumped into his chest when you reached him - letting your forehead drop against his shirt.

"I think I just threatened a sixteen year old." You mumbled there, and heard him chuckle as you did.

Daryl took a sip of the water, forgetting to offer you some first.

"Yeah, mine was good too." He replied, nonchalantly, and you hit him over the shoulder.

"Daryl-" you whined, not having the energy for playful banter.

He smiled at you sheepishly, and rubbed the back of your head, gently playing with some strands of hair between his fingers. There were oil-stains over his clothes, and he looked like he needed a shower. Though, at this moment, you didn't really care that the grease had rubbed off on you, or that your hair probably looked like coal dust.

"What did Carl do this time?" He asked sarcastically, but it made your blood run hot merely thinking about it.

"My brother didn't do anything." You snapped, and immediately regretted your tone. "It was Ron."

Daryl let out a low laugh, and you felt it rumble through his chest. He squeezed your shoulders, feeling the tension that had built up there.

"Does seem like kind of a lil' shit, don' he?"

You sighed; if only he knew the half of it. Daryl pressed his knuckles against your lower back, relieving the stress from your muscles. You closed your eyes, savouring the feeling.

"He pulled a gun on Carl." You admitted to the man, and instantly noticed as he stopped massaging your skin. "Then aimed it at me when I told him to drop it."

It was like you'd shown a red rag to a bull. Daryl went from completely loving to positively menacing in a matter of seconds, and stormed straight past you towards the door.

"Daryl, stop-" you called out, panicked. "He's just a kid."

You grabbed onto the man's shoulder, and he turned on his heels as you did so. His brow was furrowed, and you watched him narrow his eyes like he couldn't at all understand why you held him back.

"And kids should know their damn place." He growled, making your shiver.

You placed your hand over his chest, spreading your palm flat to feel his pounding heartbeat.

"He does. I made sure of it." You said quietly, trying to convince the man. "I'm just regretting the way I handled it."

Daryl immediately noticed the way your voice trailed off, and how your eyes dropped to the floor like you were ashamed. You weren't proud of what you did; but it needed to be done. You couldn't risk anything happening to your family - not when you'd all fought this hard just to stay together.

The man brought his hand to your cheek, coaxing you to look up and meet his eyes. You did, and he placed a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead - which you could feel him smile into ever so slightly.

"Is he still breathin'?" He mumbled against your skin, seeming to have calmed down enough to comfort you, instead.

"What-" you stuttered, before registering his words. "Yes, of course." You spoke, a little too loudly and a little too quickly.

Daryl chuckled, and wiped away some oil he'd gotten on your face with his thumb.

"Then ya handled it jus' fine."

There was a knock at your door not even an hour later. You'd told Daryl you would get it, but he bounded there before you had the chance - instructing you to stay on the couch and keep your feet up. He'd gotten a blanket and tucked you in so tightly that it felt like you were on an army base. You giggled to yourself, wondering if there was anything that man wouldn't do for you.

"Is she there?" Ron asked Daryl, mustering every ounce of confidence he had. "I want to apologise."

He scowled back, and practically snarled at the boy barely half his size but twice as stupid. Daryl was sure he could knock him on his ass as easy as the wind blowing a piece of paper through the breeze. He was scrawny, and fumbled with his hands like he couldn't dare to meet his eyes.

"Listen here, ya lil' prick." Daryl spoke, biting out the words. "Ya pull that shit again an' you'll have me to deal with."

You flipped the page of your magazine, re-reading the events from over a year ago and mumbling something about 'yesterday's news.' You tried your hardest to relax, but you had a nagging feeling that you couldn't escape from - making you feel antsy and on edge.

"Hi." Came the voice, wobbling through your living room like it was coated in a layer of shyness. "I just came to say I'm sorry."

Whipping your head around, you caught sight of Ron, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. Daryl stood behind him, like he was blocking any escape route he may have planned - but in reality, he looked like a grouchy guard dog having come to make sure you were okay.

For the second time today, you felt speechless, and slowly closed your magazine before tucking it underneath a pillow. Not even an hour ago had you staked your life on how intimidating you could seem, and now you were bundled up near the fire like a grandmother with arthritis. You blinked, and stood up quickly - letting the woven blanket fall to the floor and kicking it under the couch like a poorly kept secret.

"I guess I was jealous of Carl." Ron continued, feeling pressured by your lack of response. "I'll never do anything like that again. I promise."

You met his eyes but he looked away, staring at the photo frames littering your walls - and resting his gaze over the picture of you, Carl and Judith in the centre.

"Damn right you won't." You finally replied, and watched the boy flinch like your words had cut him open.

"Come here." You instructed, and he listened.

When he approached, you slumped back down onto the couch, not caring if he noticed your glossy magazine slipping out from under the pillows. You patted the space next to you, gesturing for him to sit. He did, and the two of you stared into the red flames of the fire, watching them jump and splutter in front of you.

"When we're scared, we do stupid things." You told Ron, your voice coming out a lot softer than it had done before.

You caught sight of Daryl in the corner of your eye, leaning against the doorframe like he was content to watch from afar - leaving you to finish what you'd started. He'd always have your back, but sometimes he just wanted to hang back to see where you decided to take him.

"In this new world, you only have two options." You explained, and gave Ron's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The boy jumped a little at your touch, but soon settled into it when he realised how different it was from earlier that day.

"You can either fight it, or accept it." You said, listening to the crackle of firewood as it turned into red embers. "Fear it, or control it."

A/N For my sweet @alex-sulli who always leaves the most wonderful comments that never fail to make my day :)

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole

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gh0st-patr0l · 3 years

Text

ADHD in DSMP

So about a week back, I made a post about Karl Jacobs (a bit of a passive aggressive one, I’ll admit, but I think it was justified), complaining that a lot of the ‘criticism’ I see about Karl is actually rather insensitive towards his ADHD. I got a lot of responses to that post, and the most common sources of confusion I saw were:

People not understanding what I was saying they should avoid being judgmental of, or-

People who didn’t know that Karl had ADHD or didn’t understand which behaviors were caused by it.

First of all, Karl has confirmed that he has ADHD.

(NOTE: Yes, I know he said ADD. ADD and ADHD used to be categorized as separate disorders, but in the most recent edition of the DSM, it was decided that they are both simply subtypes of the same disorder- ADHD is the correct technical term. ADD is still sometimes used as shorthand by some practitioners to diagnose primarily-inattentive ADHD, but it's a bit outdated.)

Secondly, that original post made me realize that a lot of people who may be well-meaning may genuinely not fully understand ADHD and its symptoms as well as they want to or think they might. If you aren’t aware, Karl isn’t the only one in the DSMP with ADHD- to my understanding, both Technoblade and Dream have confirmed that they have it as well. So, I thought it would be helpful to put together a comprehensive crash-course on ADHD symptoms and how they effect people’s behavior!

Now, before we go further, I want to address something- as I said earlier, I saw some people unsure of whether certain behaviors are ADHD or “just his personality”. I feel the need to point this out above the read more so people will see it. To answer this question, as someone with ADHD;

A lot of times, it’s both. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, meaning that it’s caused by the way your brain developed from birth. A lot of the symptoms and effects of ADHD are extremely influential towards the way we think, act, and behave, to the point where “symptoms” and “normal behavior” really don’t have a clean differentiation. This is why it’s technically classified as a ‘disorder’, instead of an illness. While certain aspects of it can require treatment, the condition itself as a whole is not something to be mitigated or eliminated- it’s a part of who we are as a person. This is also why sometimes, even if you don’t have ADHD, you’ll look at certain specific behaviors or experiences and go “Oh, but I do that too!”. A lot of ADHD ‘symptoms’ are just a bunch of normal traits or behaviors, but in combination with each other and some actually problematic aspects, form the appearance of the disorder.

So, what are you allowed to nitpick about it? Well, there’s no real ‘authority’ on this, and even if there was it certainly wouldn’t be me. But if you want my opinion? Nothing.

See, here’s the thing- what I was trying to say when I made that post was not that you can’t be critical of Karl. If you want to say something about his Actions, his Ideals, or the content he creates- sure, go for it, that’s fair. I will agree that there are some very valid and constructive points to be made. But when you post ‘criticism’ about the way he speaks, his interests or preoccupations, his personal behaviors? That’s not criticism. That’s just judging someone.

And you’re allowed to think that stuff! Nobody can control what annoys or bothers them. It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. But you don’t need to be vocal about it. You can keep your mean thoughts to yourself. And if you do make posts or communities or whatever about judging someone for things they can’t change about themselves, don’t call it “criticism” or try to morally justify it. It’s not productive or righteous, it’s just rude. Nothing else.

Anyway. Back to Education!

The following will be a descriptive list of visible ADHD behaviors, using Karl’s behavior as examples.

I feel the need to add a disclaimer here- I am not a mental health professional. However! I have ADHD myself, I have taken some psychology courses and done a Lot of research into this stuff, and I’m the daughter of a therapist with access to a DSM. While I’m not an expert, I’d like to think I’m fairly well versed and knowledgeable on at least ADHD. (That being said, if by chance anyone who Is a professional sees this post and notices mistakes, by all means let me know and I’ll fix it!!)

WHAT IS ADHD?

You’re here for the behaviors more than the science, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. ADHD is Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (Known in the past as Attention Deficit Disorder). Despite its name, the root problem of ADHD is not in the person’s ability to pay attention, but their brain’s capability to manage itself. In simple terms, people with ADHD have a lot less control over what their brain does and wants. This results in some behavioral differences along with some personal challenges, namely a difficulty with attentiveness and self-discipline.

Now, onto the symptoms!

ATTENTION

This is perhaps the most visible and pervasive of the ADHD symptoms, hence why it’s the namesake. Inattention is a lack of focus and an inability to stay present and occupied with certain tasks or thoughts.

Because ADHD impairs self-management of the brain, people with it have an extremely hard time directing themselves anywhere but where their brain instinctively wants to go. This results in inattentiveness and the easiness of distraction that is often mocked or stereotyped for people with ADHD.

Here are some examples of how Karl can sometimes display his inattentiveness;

When he has an idea that he seems passionate about, only to drop it or switch to something totally different without warning soon after (either forgetting or getting bored of his original idea).

When he sets out to do something like a build, works on it for a short amount of time, and then immediately gives up or gets someone else to do it.

When someone else is talking and he totally zones out. (NOTE: While I wont make a whole section for it because it’s not easily observable, maladaptive (constant and intrusive) daydreaming is a common ADHD symptom as well!)

It’s important to remember that the whole problem with ADHD is that we can’t control when or what we focus on. When someone with ADHD zones out during a conversation or activity, it doesn’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, and they likely don’t mean any offense! We often are trying our best to listen or participate, but our brain just wont cooperate.

However, inattention is not the only way ADHD effects our focus. There’s also what’s called hyperfocus or hyperfixation, which is when we are so absorbed into a single subject, task, or idea that it is extremely difficult to get us to think about or do anything else. This is usually because our brains have found something that is getting those satisfaction chemicals flowing, and it’s clinging to that with everything it’s got.

People with ADHD will often experience brief periods of hyperfocus. Think of how Karl talks about spending hours straight working on a build or project without eating or drinking, or how he’ll sit down to play a game with someone and end up going six hours without even noticing.

There are also hyperfixations, where someone with ADHD becomes extremely preoccupied with a certain subject, topic, etc. for a period of time. These can be short term- personally, my hyperfixation can sometimes change as quickly as a couple weeks at a time. However, it can also be long term. Karl has been obsessed with Survivor since the second grade- not to mention his memorabilia, rambling, and constant references to Kingdom Hearts.

HYPERACTIVITY/STIMMING

This is a BIG one for Karl. I should clarify; ‘stimming’ is not a technical term, and in professional situations these behaviors are just referred to as Hyperactivity. However, I personally like the term stimming much more and find it far more accurate to what the behaviors actually are, so I’ll be using that instead for this post.

If you’re not already familiar, ‘stimming’ (derived from ‘stimulation’) is an unofficial term used to describe consistent and abnormal patterns of physical and vocal behavior typically expressed by people with ADHD and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). This includes things that people usually call fidgets or tics.

(NOTE: There are differences in how people with those two disorders stim. This post will explain stimming specifically from an ADHD perspective! ASD stimming is caused by very different factors and presents itself in much different ways. Do your own research if you’re curious!)

There are two major observable forms of stimming- physical and vocal. Karl expresses both VERY often! I’ll use examples for each type;

Physical Stims: Flapping his hands/arms, jumping up and down when he’s excited, twisting around into odd positions in his chair, throwing, hitting, or tapping things, standing up and pacing around when he’s hyped up or laughing, twisting his rings, etc.

Vocal Stims: When he gets excited and repeats a certain phrase incessantly (Think any variation of “I’m popping off”), making certain repetitive noises while he’s focused on something or bored (”la la la”, the meow-noises, the weird heart-beat noise, etc.), singing or humming, tongue clicking.

It should be noted here that it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to get “stuck” on certain phrases or noises, and be unable to stop repeating them (reminiscent of echolalia, a symptom of ASD, but not the same thing). Think of how Karl might sometimes keep making a weird noise for an extended period of time even though it’s not that funny, or that one time he was physically struggling to keep himself from singing the Bakugan theme. These repetitions are completely impulsive and trust me, we usually know how annoying it is while we’re doing it, but we physically cannot stop.

ADHD stims are caused by the fact that the barrier between our brain and body is much weaker than a normal person’s. Because of this, most ADHD stims are actually very positive expressions of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm! Y’know how when you get excited, you feel like you wanna jump or dance? The ‘hyperactivity’ of ADHD is basically just that, but we don’t have the self-control to Not do it.

Stims can be caused by negative feelings like overstimulation, but in ADHD this is not nearly as common. Usually, the most negative reason we’ll stim is when we’re bored- in that case, our brain isn’t getting the Constant Stimulation that it naturally wants, so stimming is a way to make our own.

Whatever the cause, stimming is natural and impulsive. While different people experience it to varying degrees, those who regularly stim typically have little to no control over it. Suppressing stims is very hard and very frustrating to do.

Besides that, like I said- ADHD stims are often an expression of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm. They’re a beautiful thing that shouldn’t be seen as shameful or annoying!

BEHAVIORAL DIFFICULTIES

ADHD is a disorder which causes a lack of self-control. Naturally, this means that people with ADHD are inherently reckless, impulsive, and struggle with a lack of self-discipline that they cannot fix.

Of course, people with ADHD do still have some level of self-control, and they are still responsible for conscious, long-term behavioral patterns and decisions. However, in regards to most things, they are much, much less capable of controlling themselves than an average neurotypical person is.

These are some examples of how this will often present itself in Karl;

Excessive rambling, dragging on a joke or conversation when it could and should probably have been dropped, etc.

Speaking over or interrupting other people (NOTE: As someone with ADHD- THIS IS ALMOST ALWAYS UNINTENTIONAL. I know it can seem rude or annoying but I promise, 90% of the time if someone with ADHD talks over you, they either didn’t realize or physically couldn’t help it. Please try to be patient!)

Lack of awareness towards social cues (NOTE: Unlike ASD, in which the person is incapable of/has problems fully understanding social cues, ADHD results in a lack of awareness. For whatever reason, we’re often just not paying close enough attention to pick up on things like body language, tone of speech, and facial expression as well as we would normally.)

Indecisiveness and overthinking

Bluntness, lack of subtlety

Unintentional dismissiveness, accidentally ignoring things/people (NOTE: Again, this behavior is purely accidental. In this case, it’s usually just the person genuinely not hearing or processing things.)

Making noises, speaking, joking, etc. at inappropriate times

There’s probably more, but I think you get the idea by now. A lot of the time, behavior which results from ADHD can be seen as rude, lazy, dismissive, or otherwise intentionally harmful. In reality, we just aren’t wired to navigate common social interaction with grace.

In Karl’s case, he’s clearly an incredibly sweet, empathetic, and kind-hearted person, if the various close friends who have talked about him are to be believed. Just because he talks over people or makes a poorly timed joke, that doesn’t mean he meant any harm.

I think that’s about it for how much I wanted to point out! You can do more research if you’re curious, but I feel like this post should be enough to tell you what to keep in mind and be understanding about when talking about/making judgements on Karl, and other people with ADHD.

#sorry if this is longwinded but I had a lot to say so [shrug]#karl jacobs #dsmp #dream smp #dreamwastaken #ghost.txt

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flrtwoo · 3 years

Text

wc: 858

"so you think i should create a contrast between the song and my words?" you asked sunwoo, facing him. he leaned back on the sofa you both were sitting on and turned to face you as well. "yea! i think it'll create a cool effect, and at the end of your video you could end with words that kind of agree or disagree directly with the song, depending on the message you want to portray! play with the song's lyrics or something you feel?"

"yea i feel!" you smiled, bobbing your head up and down in agreement to what he suggested. as you typed down his words in the notes app of your laptop, sunwoo took notice of the way you scrunched your nose whenever you mispelled something, or how you only used your pointer and middle finger to type. he wanted to pinch your nose, intertwine your hands together, just show you some sort of physical affection, but he held himself back.

"not yet sunwoo, not yet." he thought to himself. the usb in his pocket suddenly felt heavier and heavier, so sunwoo considered this as a sign that it was time.

"uh hey..." sunwoo started as he leaned forward. you stopped typing to direct your attention to him. "what's up?"

"i uh... actually have a song right here if you want to use it for your project." he said hesitantly and brought out the usb from his pocket. "you can give it a listen, see if it matches the vibe of your film."

you looked at the usb in his hand then at him. he looked... nervous? you took the usb and inspected it carefully. "did you write a song?"

"wrote and recorded" he replied with a nervous chuckle. "ohmygod... sunwoo this is so sweet what the heck" you pouted, your heart growing even more for the person in front of you. as for sunwoo, he felt his heart do a whole gymnastics routine at your expression.

"can i listen to it now?" you asked him excitedly. "oh yea sure of course!" he nodded, still not meeting your eyes. you were curious as to why sunwoo didn't seem... himself, but you figured it was probably just because he was showing you one of his works for the first time.

you plugged in the usb to your laptop. once its contents loaded, you were surprised to find that there was only one thing on the usb: an audio file titled "make or break".

you clicked on it, and after a few seconds the sound of guitar strums filled the air. you relished it, and unknowingly swayed to the rhythm.

then suddenly, his voice.

his voice was sweet, smooth, like honey dripping from a leaf. it was something you knew you couldn't, and wouldn't, get enough of.

a smile grew on your lips as you listened to the way his voice would hit the high notes and low notes, how he'd change up the tempo every now and then, and how he sang like he was talking to you and only you.

as you were looking at your screen (because you knew you'd turn into a puddle of nothingness if you faced sunwoo right then and there), sunwoo was looking at you and gauging your reaction. when you smiled, he smiled, and when you blushed, he might have blushed as well.

jacob's nagging made it into his thoughts however, and he sighed. "this is it guess."

This ecstatic, vivid emotion

Shines clearly

"y/n, i have something to say to you"

"yea?"

I don’t wanna leave that dazzling fantasy

As a dream

"hanging out with you and getting to know you these past few months have honestly felt like a dream; it's crazy how close we've gotten already."

Make or Break

You come close to me

I’ll say wait a minute minute

Wait a minute minute

"and everytime i'm with you, i feel like... i don't know, that i'm meant to be there in that moment with you. when you laugh, it makes me want to be the reason you do, and when you're going through something, all i want is to be by your side and tell you that everything's gonna be okay."

Make or Break

The moment you smiled at me

Now say yeah I’m with it with it

Yeah I’m with it with it babe

"i rarely act on my feelings, but lately that's all i've been doing around you. you make my brain all fuzzy, you fill my thoughts, and you turn me into a mess whenever i see you smile."

All fantasies come true

"i'm sorry, i'm rambling again, but what i'm trying to say is that i like you-"

your lips on his. sunwoo couldn't process your lips on his. when you noticed that he wasn't moving, you backed up. looking into his eyes, you mumbled out an apology as your cheeks turned red.

1 second.

2 seconds.

he then put his hand on your cheek, leaned in, and kissed you. slowly, and with so much care, he kissed you, and you could only describe the feeling as pure magic.

zero-probability | ksw

[chapter 23]

previous | masterlist | next

summary: both you and sunwoo knew that life would always throw its hurdles, especially now as college season is coming up. but who would've thought that part of "life's hurdles" was getting someone else's college application results? because as of what they know, that should be a zero-probability event—something that would and should NEVER happen.

taglist: @fr0gluver @suzy-rainbow @artfulbarnes @skiez @bloom-bloom-pow @kswr1d @jaerisdiction @fullsun9890 @404-incorrect @nyuworld @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @17scheol @rindomo @p-prettysour @cloudskyu @nyuoot @hidejeon @deputyjuyeon (reply to this post or send an ask/message if u wanna be part of the taglist! :>)

a/n: CROWD CHEERS THEY FINALLY DID IT ‼️ IT WAS ABOUT TIME GADDAM HAHAHAHAH and ,, as u know make or break is very upbeat HAHAHAHA but while writing i imagined sunwoo doing a slowed down, acoustic ver of it and i just think that it would be Beautiful 🥲 also yes another grid huhu i am so sorry ;< lastly, these next 2 chapters will just kinda wrap up zero-probability, so hopefully you all are still here and up for a little more sunwoo, y/n, and friends content !!! i love u all so much, and thank u for liking zero-probability 💛

#sunwoo social media au #sunwoo sm au #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo series #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo angst #kim sunwoo #the boyz sm au #the boyz social media au #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #the boyz

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ubemango · 3 years

Note

*gregorian chant* breeding kink c*m inflation kink breeding kink c*m inflation kink breeding kink c*m inflation kink bree

In another universe pups is the ABO fic I never wrote HJDHJDSHJDSHJHJFHJFSD OK so anyway I won’t lie I had to google what cum inflation was and when I saw what I saw.... yes. Ok. It got my brain gears going *rusty noise of gears turning* U know what I mean??? So i was thinking..... ***NSFW WARNING

You see hentai on Namjoon’s laptop one day. You’ve mastered the art of nonchalance, though. So when he comes back from the bathroom and gives you a smile—as if you haven’t gotten a peek into Things That Turn Namjoon On That Don’t Include You—you breathe an internal sigh of relief. Safe.

Except you’ve stopped taking notes and now all you can think about is Namjoon watching porn so brazenly on his laptop. Where he does schoolwork of all places! He could at least just use his phone. Also you’re just a teensy bit wet because cartoon boobs and dick is still conducive to horny hours, even if you are doing something as unsexy as critical writing.

Your study date ends with a simple kiss on the lips because Hoseok’s home this time and you’d rather not taint the living room space while he’s occupying the apartment too. Namjoon slips in a little bit of tongue though, because he’s cheeky like that.

You text Namjoon right when you get home. You lie and say you’re going to sleep early, with the excuse that you have to wake up early for a meeting with your advisor. And when he sends you his good night text, you get to it. Getting ready for bed, turning your night light to the colour red once you’ve settled in.

You have sleuthing to do.

Because the hentai wasn’t just... well there’s no regular hentai, is there? It’s just. There. Being hentai. And what’s Namjoon without an inclination for messy pussies because of—because of—

You close your eyes tight because you can’t believe what you’re about to type into the search bar on your phone.

But first!

Incognito. Whew. The shame of clearing your history would be too much to bear. So when you press enter on cum inflation it isn’t so bad. Especially when all the X-rated websites pop up and your screen just becomes Anime Boobies Galore when you click the first link.

You can’t believe Namjoon had the gall to just leave that website up there on his screen. You’re scrolling down the page and already you’re feeling hot. And it isn’t even because of the fact that you’re skimming through videos of perfect girls getting so cummed up their stomachs literally become distended. Nor is it the thought of Namjoon watching it and enjoying it, either. Rather...

Was he thinking of you when he was watching these videos? Bending your knees up over your shoulders and promising you that he’s saved up all his cum for you? Getting you to drool down your chin, cross-eyed?

(Your hand is down your panties at the third video you come across. You come pretty hard when you see the girl’s pussy literally spew semen from how hard the guy comes inside her. And when you reach post-orgasm clarity you immediately exit the browser, chuck your phone onto the floor, and hope to god sleep overtakes you within twenty seconds.)

The next time you meet up for another study date with Namjoon is the weekend. That’s a good three nights of jacking it off to the same video of a huge dongle fucking a good five buckets of semen inside his girlfriend. And when you settle all your notebooks and laptop down, you immediately go for the kill.

“Do you like anime boobs?”

Namjoon chokes on the water he’s drinking from his bottle. “I—ahem. What, uh... what brought this on?”

“I’ve been watching a lot of hentai so I thought I’d ask,” you clarify.

“Uh-huh,” he says incredulously.

“And you know, it’s just—I liked it. A lot. You know. Just for your information.”

Namjoon blinks. “Are you trying to get at something here?”

“Because I don’t really mind, you know. Porn is porn. And you can like whatever you want. Like as long as it’s nice and consensual,” you ignore him.

“Babe.”

“Like I would never make fun of you because I’m—well I’ve watched Grinch porn before but that was against my own will—“

“Baby,” Namjoon laughs, squishing your cheeks to stop your rambling. “What’s going on?”

“I like h’ntai,” you try to articulate with his hands still keeping your lips pressed in like this.

“I get that. But why?”

Oh god. You don’t even know what you want from this conversation. Maybe the guilt of catching him has caught up to you. Or maybe you also just want to have a distended stomach from having Namjoon bust a fat load inside you.

You take his hands from your face, clutch at them for support. “I saw... Um. What you were watching. The other day.”

“Ah.” You watch Namjoon’s ears turn red. He squeezes your hands right back. “You—damn. I’m sorry.”

“No—!” You clear your throat when it warbles. “N-No... it’s... well I...”

You feel his thumb rub comfort into your skin. He looks like he’s getting ready for a scolding. So when you say, “I actually really liked it and I’ve been watching it every night,” in one breath, Namjoon blinks.

And blinks.

After a solid sixteen seconds of silence, he says: “That’s really hot.”

You both stare at each other. The notebook you laid out for notes sits quietly, waiting.

“You wanna go to your bed—?”

Namjoon nearly dislodges your shoulder when he pulls you up to stand. “Yes we’re going right now.”

Something you’re really thankful for when it comes to Namjoon is how compatible you two are. You can’t count how many times you’ve both just looked at each other, no words to say, but somehow still completely on the same page. It’s like you both have the instinct of the other person ingrained in the part of your brain that deals with intuition.

You’re pretty keen on foreplay most days, but even Namjoon sees you’d rather rip your hair out than not immediately go for the feeling of his dick ramming inside you right at this very second. He laughs when you strip in record time, laying supine on the bed while he undresses.

“What’s gotten into you?” As if he’s not hard himself. He crawls over you with kisses warm on your belly, your breasts. “I have to admit. I really just wanted to fuck today.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh. You knew something was up the second you realized Hoseok wasn’t home. He probably sexiled himself. You remind yourself to buy him dinner one day for his noble deed. “Just—I’m wet. I think. I just want you inside me, please.”

Namjoon groans. “You’re dangerous.”

“I watched hentai for three nights straight, I’m horny,” you whine in correction.

“You wanna know something? Please don’t laugh.”

“What?” Oh you’re wet alright. Namjoon lines his cock at your hole, slides tight inside. “O-Oh—what?”

“I kind of. I haven’t jacked off since the last time we met,” he says, voice tight. “Thank god you watched that shit because I probably sound crazed right now.”

“Huh?”

He grinds up till his hips meet your ass, and you shiver when the tip of his cock hits just right. “I—I wanted to save my cum for you,” he admits, sweating at his neck, and something clicks inside you, because you were right.

“I thought—about that too—ngh!”

Namjoon fucks you steady now. No more shy thrusts like he always starts off with to gauge your mood. He knows you want it. “Shit. About what, baby?”

“You. A-And... making me full... of you.”

“Oh my god.” He grabs your thighs, opening you wide. Takes a thumb to your clit like he’s on a mission. “Will you come with me? Can you do that?”

Holy fuck you’d do anything for him. So you nod, moaning with every hard thrust he gives you. Your legs threaten to close when he rubs you raw, but he commands with a low voice:

“Open, pups.”

Embarrassingly, that does it. He’s never one to order you around. And knowing he’s purposefully saved you his cum like it’s Christmas come early, you know better than to hinder the process.

Your legs shake when you open wider, feeling the warmth of his cock tenfold. “I’m close,” you cry when he slams into you.

“Feel it here?” He slides a sweaty palm to your abdomen. “Gonna give it to you right there. Make you so full. So pretty. All—mine—!”

You don’t even know if that was your signal. But the thought of him swelling you up like that girl on your screen, her womb so full with cum and promise—

“Joonie!” You shriek, toppling right into red-hot pleasure, clutching at the sheets because it’s too much. You come in waves, and Namjoon rides it with you, bucks into you with one last groan. You feel it, feel his excess warmth coat your insides just like he’d told you, and you pretend you feel your stomach balloon for more space. He rubs a grateful hand on your stomach.

“My little cum dump,” he coos tiredly, and you slap his arm with a laugh.

“Don’t pull out yet.” You slide your arms around his shoulders, bringing his tired form onto you. “Keep me plugged in.”

He laves at your neck. “Oh so now I’m out of line when I say weird shit.”

“I never said it was weird,” you whisper. “I’ll happily house all your semen.”

“Oh my—pfft. Ok. You know what? Show me that video you were watching, I need to know what’s got you like this,” he snorts, and you promise to do it later. You’ll just keep him like this for a little while.

#bts smut #namjoon smut #bts scenarios #ubemango fic #f: pups series #d: pups series

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tanyawritesstories · 3 years

Text

Keep It Warm | Commander Wolffe x Reader

I couldn't not post a fic on May 4th, it's Star Wars day for Makers sake 😝 so have some sexy Commander Wolffe and May the Force be with you!

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: smut, NSFW, cockwarming, voyeurism, oral (m receiving), spanking, edging, brat taming, orgasm denial, Sinker & Boost get a little action, masturbation, Wolffe is the second best dom in the GAR

•••

Wolffe looked up from his desk and was hit with a wave of emotions as you stood just inside the door: namely frustration, disappointment, and lust. He couldn’t believe the audacity you had to stroll into his office after the stunts you had pulled. To top that off, he had called you to his office an hour ago and you just now showed up. You clearly needed a lesson in manners.

It had started as a bit of revenge. Wolffe hadn’t even kissed you since he got back from his mission, which had been two weeks ago! You teased him by unbuttoning your shirt more than usual and bending over whenever you knew he was watching. You had hung out in the mess until he had shown up before flirting with Sinker, who knew all about your plan. Wolffe had glared daggers into both you and his sergeant to no avail.

The entire day you had teased him and at this point it was just becoming fun to see him pent up and frustrated, knowing sooner or later he would take said frustration out on you. Or at least you hoped he would. He didn’t tolerate much from you, and, as much as you enjoyed it, even you thought you might be pushing the envelope this time. Especially when you had, on impulse, taken your chance and spanked Boost as he was walking by. You had almost hurt your hand smacking the plastoid hard enough that Boost would feel it. The trooper reacted surprised but winked back at you and sent you a look that made your knees weak. That time you hadn’t known Wolffe was watching.

You weren’t sure what finally made Wolffe snap and call you to his office, but when he had, you were actually working and so waited until you had finished your assignment. Now you stood just inside the door, waiting for him to say something.

He beckoned you closer with a finger, you made a show of rolling your eyes and reluctantly walking to stand in front of his desk. He looked you up and down, you could see the stern and judgemental look in his dark eyes.

"Why were you late?" He asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

"I was busy," you replied curtly.

"I see. Too busy to follow your Commander's orders?"

You stayed silent, not sure what kind of response or reaction he was looking for. "Given that they were unprofessional orders, I figured they could wait." His eyes narrowed at you. Well that was the wrong answer. "What have you been doing all day?" He questioned.

"Work."

He huffed a breath out his nose in annoyance. "No, Kitten, you've been naughty. Why?"

You finally broke and began rambling. "It's your fault! You've been back from your mission for two weeks and haven't even shown me a lick of attention. I know I shouldn't drag you away from your work, but fucking hell, Wolffe. Two weeks!"

"So that's what this is about?" He asked, rising from his chair. “That’s unfortunate for you, baby. I was going to make tonight special for you, but now you’ve pissed me off. My side of the desk, now.”

You sighed, feeling defeated and annoyed. You crossed your arms with a huff and walked to his side, bending over the desk without having to be told.

“Look at that! You are capable of being a good girl, you just don’t want to,” Wolffe mocked.

“Just fucking spank me if you’re going to,” you snapped, ready to be done and get back to work. Wolffe’s fingers dug into your hair and he yanked your head back. His hand came down harshly between your legs, not where you were expecting. You yelped and he slapped your cunt again.

“Wolffe!” you exclaimed, “What the hell?”

“You better watch your tongue, Kitten. I had planned on letting you cum, but now every time you mouth off I’m pushing it back one hour.” He snarled.

“Are you serious?” You tried turning your head to look at him but he kept your head straight.

“That’s two hours now.”

You groaned in frustration and gave up trying to fight him. This was Wolffe, he would get what he wanted. You heard him sit back down in his chair, but his hands never left your hips, his thumbs pressing into the skin between your ass and thighs.

“You wet yet, kitten?” he purred.

That line alone, said in his gruff but smooth voice was enough to make you soaked. One of his hands left your hip, his knuckles dragging against your clothed heat.

“Y-yes, sir,” you answered.

Wolffe just hummed as his hands wandered up to the waist of your pants. In one swift movement he yanked them and your panties down to your knees. You squeaked as he exposed your wet flesh to the cool air.

He kicked your legs apart and slowly dragged one finger through your soaked folds. "You're wet but I need you wetter," he commented.

"If you'd let me cum that might help," you mumbled.

Wolffe flicked his finger against your clit, the pleasant sting making you release a strangled moan.

"That's three hours now."

You rolled your eyes, at least he couldn't see that. You heard him spit into his hand before he cupped your pussy with it, smearing his saliva around. You bit your lip trying to hold in the lewd noises that threatened to spill from your lips.

You couldn't hold them in when he eased his middle finger into you, wiggling it around and sending bolts of pleasure through your body. He fingered you tantalizingly slow. Enough to stimulate you but not enough to make you cum. He had gotten this down to a science.

He could feel your slickness increase and your walls flutter around his thick digit. Once he decided you were wet enough he removed his finger. You whined in protest and were so caught up in how he was denying you that you didn't hear him undoing his trousers.

He suddenly grabbed your hips in an iron grip and pulled you back towards him. Your back hit his chest and he lined his cock up with your entrance before shoving you down on him.

The noise you made was something between a moan and a yelp, your body tightening with the unexpected intrusion.

"That could've hurt," you grumbled.

Wolffe took one hand and placed it on your stomach, pressing down he was able to feel how deep he was inside you. "Careful, kitten. You're up to four hours now." He took his other hand and used two fingers to stroke lightly over your clit. "And you're going to sit here and look pretty while you keep my cock warm for every one of those hours."

Your mouth gaped open, four hours! You loved sitting on Wolffe's cock but four hours was a long time. He was nestled snugly inside you, hot and throbbing. This might be impossible.

Wolffe reached up and undid the rest of the buttons on your shirt, letting it hang open. You felt tight around him and he could feel every little ripple your muscles made.

"Now don't misbehave, I have work to finish," he said.

He kept a strong arm around your hips, keeping you still while he looked over reports on his datapad. You sighed dramatically and Wolffe pinched your inner thigh in response. You leaned back against his chest and made yourself comfortable, you were going to be here for a while.

~~~~

As if just sitting on Wolffe's hard, impressive cock was difficult enough, every so often he would shallowly thrust up into you or play with your clit. Anything to make it more tortuous.

Nothing was really happening aside from his teasing and occasionally asking you to hand him a different datapad from his desk. You were startled when knocking was heard on his door. Your head shot up in alarm.

"Wolffe?"

He didn't move.

"Wolffe what if they walk in?" You tried to get up but his strong arms held you down, keeping you tight to him.

"Then they'll have proof that you are the sluttiest officer on this ship," he growled in your ear, "and you're all mine." He called for whoever was on the other side of the door to come in. The door slid open and you looked away in embarrassment.

“Boost, do you have the data drive I asked for?”

You hesitantly looked up to see Boost standing across the room fiddling with the drive in his hand, his face had gone as red as his hair and his eyes tried to look anywhere except for you.

“I’m going to need that drive, Boost,” Wolffe said, motioning him closer.

“Can I toss it to you?” The flushed trooper asked.

“As you can see I can’t exactly get up right now so I’m going to need you to bring it here,” Wolffe responded.

Boost sighed and kept his eyes on the floor as he walked up to the desk and set the drive down.

“I’m going to need you to do one more thing,” Wolffe said, “Look up.”

Boost didn’t dare, he only shifted in place refusing to look at you or tear his eyes away from his feet. It hadn’t been his fault you spanked him, he didn't have any idea what you had been planning. “Respectfully sir, no thank you.”

“That’s an order, trooper,” Wolffe’s voice was stern. “I saw the look you gave her earlier. I know you want to look and I’m giving you permission. Go ahead.”

Boost slowly lifted his head and took in your mostly nude form, his eyes meeting yours before traveling downwards over your barely covered breasts, and stopping at the apex of your thighs where he could see your glistening pussy, plugged with his Commander’s cock. He released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in and couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Wolffe felt you clench around him, you were enjoying this, being on display and being eyed up like you were about to be devoured. “Say, kitten, if you and Boost are alright with it why don’t you suck his cock and if you do a good job I’ll take an hour off your punishment,” he suggested. Boost’s eyes widened and you whimpered.

“I’d like to if he’ll let me, please Commander,” you asked. Not only had the panty-dropping smirk Boost had given you before fueled your decision, but you needed some kind of stimulation and Wolffe would take away an hour. It was a win win.

Boost swallowed the lump in his throat and walked around to the other side of the desk. He removed his codpiece revealing the hard bulge in his blacks. His behavior changed from bashful to confident once he heard her gasp at the outline through his pants.

“You like what you see, princess?” Boost slowly pulled his blacks down as far as they could go with the rest of his armor still on. He wasn't as big as Wolffe but he was still well endowed.

You reached forward and lightly ran your fingertips up and down his shaft. "No teasing or I'll ask the Commander to keep that hour on your punishment," Boost threatened.

You sucked his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around and soaking up his precum. You broke away to spit into your hand and begin stroking his length. He hummed contently and ran his fingers through your hair.

You kitten licked his tip once more before engulfing his member in your mouth till he hit the back of your throat. Boost groaned and tugged on your hair as you started bobbing on his cock. You used your hand to pump what wasn't in your mouth.

Wolffe thought you deserved a reward for sucking Boost off. He reached down and put slight pressure on your clit, slowly rubbing circles on the concentrated batch of nerves. He could feel your body release more slick as he rubbed his fingers up and down your slit. You moaned at the sensation, sending the vibrations along Boost's cock. He growled and pulled you further onto him.

"C'mon Kitten, swallow his cock, I know you can," Wolffe encouraged.

You pulled off so just his tip was in your mouth before taking his dick down your throat so your nose bumped the skin of his abdomen. You breathed steadily through your nose and swallowed around his length.

Boost pressed himself impossibly closer, your forehead bumping his belt. You pulled off and jerked him with your hand a few times before taking him back into your mouth. You could feel your own high coming on from Wolffe's incessant toying. Boost's hips bucked and he slid further into your mouth.

"Mmm, c-can I cum down her throat, Commander?" Boost asked, his voice strained from being on the edge of climax.

You heard Wolffe hum in approval from behind you. Boost thrust himself into your mouth a few times before releasing his load into your mouth. You swallowed everything he had and licked him clean, leaning back against Wolffe’s chest while licking your lips.

“Thank you, Boost. You may go now,” Wolffe bid.

Boost covered himself back in his armor and made his way out of the office. You evened out your breathing, coming down from the near high that Wolffe built you up to.

“How much time do I have left?” You asked.

“About fifty minutes I believe,” Wolffe replied, he grabbed the drive off his desk and plugged it into his datapad. You made yourself comfortable and settled back, just having to wait.

~~~~

You hadn’t realized you fell asleep until you were woken up by someone palming your breasts. You stirred, shifting around only to be reminded you were still stuffed full.

“Your time is up, kitten.”

Swift taps to your clit jolted you fully awake. Wolffe placed gentle kisses to your neck. “Would you like to cum now?”

You nodded weakly and mumbled out a yes. Wolffe easily lifted you up and off of him, causing you to whine as he slipped out of you. He laid you on your back on his desk, parting your legs to stand in between them, his still hard length resting against your stomach.

“You’ve been good, Kitten, so you get to decide. How do you want me?” Wolffe asked, sincerity in his voice.

“Hard and fast, Wolffe, please,” you begged. Your Commander smiled, “That’s my girl.”

He slowly sunk two fingers into you while his thumb played with your clit, you whined at his teasing. “I need to make sure you’re wet enough,” Wolffe addressed, “I don’t want to hurt my kitten.”

He pulled away once he was satisfied with the amount of slickness at the apex of your thighs. He coated his dick in the juices from his fingers, he lined up and pressed just his tip inside. Moans and desperate whimpers fell from your lips.

"What do you say, Kitten?"

"Can I have your cock, Commander? Please, please, please I want it so bad!" You rambled.

"There's a good girl," Wolffe praised. He rewarded you by sliding all the way in, his tip nudging your cervix. He released a guttural groan and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

"I'm glad you got what you wanted."

Both your and Wolffe's heads snapped towards the door where Sinker stood, arms crossed, an amused look on his face.

"Sinker, what the hell are you doing in here!" Wolffe snapped.

"I take it this is why Boost has had a pep in his step ever since he left your office," Sinker mused, "I just came to give you this datapad. You're lucky I convinced the General to send me instead of delivering it himself."

Your face heated up and you looked away. Your time was up, Wolffe was going to let you cum, why did Sinker have to interrupt now? You were already planning some way to sabotage him as payback when he spoke again. "I see your plan worked, you're welcome," Sinker was now standing against the right wall, messing with his vambrace.

"What plan?" Wolffe asked.

"The one she told me to just play along with in order to rile you up so you would fuck her senseless," he answered nonchalantly.

"Oh, she failed to mention that plan to me," Wolffe voiced, looking down at you. You had covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment at being found out.

“However,” Wolffe continued, “I did know what she was up to: and you, Sinker, did not have to be a part of it. You should have known better.”

You could practically feel Sinker smirking through his next words. "Do I get a blowjob too?"

You didn't expect Wolffe's reply. "No, Sinker," Wolffe slowly pulled out of you halfway, "You get to watch while I fuck her senseless."

At that, Wolffe slammed back into you making you cry out his name. He set a brutal pace, one hand on your shoulder the other holding one of your legs up. The delicious scrape of his cock against your walls made you moan loudly, your eyes fluttering closed, your brain almost unable to comprehend how good you felt.

"Nuh uh, baby," Wolffe drawled, moving his hand from your shoulder to your jaw, tilting your head back. "Look at him, kitten. Show Sinker how good I'm making you feel."

You slowly let your eyes open to see Sinker biting his lip hard and trying to keep his hands off himself. Wolffe hit that hidden pleasure point within you and you screamed.

"That's it, scream for me, kitten."

You looked to see Sinker had slid down the wall and removed his codpiece, he was staring at you while furiously palming himself.

You clenched hard around Wolffe and he growled, picking up his pace if that was even possible. You felt your high rapidly approaching.

"Are you getting close, Kitten?" Wolffe asked.

You were at a loss for words, they were all being fucked out of you. All you could do was moan and shout Wolffe's name. He knew you were seconds from falling over the edge based on how your whole body started shaking.

You glanced at Sinker long enough to see he now had his cock in hand, jerking off to the sounds you were making. Wolffe pulled your face back to look at him.

"I wanna see you come, kitten. C'mon, cum for your Commander," he urged.

With a few more thrusts you were pushed over the edge, the pleasure surging throughout you, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream that your lungs just couldn't produce. Wolffe came seconds after, grunting and growling as he shot his seed within the confines of your warm constricting walls.

He gently laid himself on top of you, your foreheads resting together as you came down from bliss. You cupped his cheek lovingly and Wolffe nuzzled into your touch, finally pressing a long awaited kiss to your lips. He slowly pulled out and did his best to clean up the mess he made of you.

A near silent curse reminded you both that Sinker was still in the room. You looked over to find that he had cum into his hand. You sat up on the desk and whispered a question into Wolffe's ear.

"Sure, kitten, you were good. I'll tell him," he answered. You beamed and pulled your panties back on.

"Sinker come here," Wolffe requested, "my girl wants to clean you up."

He flinched before standing up and walking wobbly over to the desk. You spun around in your sitting position to face Sinker, taking his fingers and licking them clean of his essence.

Wolffe sat back in his chair after making himself presentable again. He watched proudly as his woman helped his brother. He couldn't help reaching over and running his hand over her waist.

Sinker watched with wide eyes as she cleaned up his fingers, staring in awe. He tucked himself away once she was done and looked between the two of you.

"Commander, if you don't mind my asking, where did you find her? I want one."

#star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #sergeant sinker #clone trooper boost

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon.

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet.

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

#Frankie Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x F!Reader #Frankie Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Francisco Morales x F!Reader #Francisco Catfish Morales x Fem!Reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x you

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Curious Travels - Geralt of Rivia x (f)reader

- reader is part of my Of Monsters and Men series

Summary: Yet again has your humble bard dragged you and Geralt to another kingdom for whatever reason, though as the snow falls outside, you know just how to keep warm.

Warning: fluff, SMUT, some actual plot

Masterlist

Jumping off of your own horse you’re immediately greeted with the soft crunch of snow under your boots. Your pack of three mighty adventures have traveled all this way to the wintery mountainside kingdom of Turga for, as Jaskier would say, “food, festivities, and fun times to be had”. Not being one to ever walk away from such intriguing tidings, you’ve made it a point to accompany Jaskier on his trek to the kingdom.

Geralt on the other hand could absolutely not be bothered in the slightest to come for such “fun times to be had” but he loves you and begrudgingly decided to follow the two of you anyways.

The whole ordeal of traveling had taken about a week, through forest and fields, streams to pass and bridges to cross, until finally at last your horses had reached snow. And more importantly the wooden post naming the direction of said mountain kingdom, causing your bard to become even more chipper and talkative then usual.

Much to your amusement and Geralt’s silent moody frustration, though he would have liked to smack the bard across his head or quite possibly snap that lute in two. Watching your face light up at Jaskier’s jokes and stories from before he met both you and Geralt, so far has kept the grumbly Witcher to himself, just being able to see your beaming face is enough to make this trip all the better.

Though he’s still doubtful anything fantastic will actually come out of this journey in any way, considering most travels with the two of you end rather poorly.

You’re eyes grew big once they spotted the snowy glowing city of Turga sitting comfortably atop a silver hill in all her beautiful glory. Jaskier wasn’t fooling, this place is absolutely magnificent, it’s like a true winter wonderland.

Great evergreens stand tall at the large wooden gates of the town, two guards dressed in silver armor and a red sash over their breast greet you three with generous smiles of welcome tidings that take you more off center then you’d ever expected. How strange it is not to be looked down upon, or scrutinized by people who always tend to think the worst.

Jaskier simply grins, clearly knowing something you and your grouchy Witcher do not, but what could that possibly be, then again it isn’t exactly abnormal. Following closely behind, you and Geralt lead your horses along the snow covered streets as Jaskier leads the way to the stables.

The whole time your eyes have been wide in awe at the beautiful surroundings of the town, lanterns held up by steel chains hang in a line above your heads. Dashing evergreens keep watch from their various positions in the square. Oddly enough the stables look cozy, decorative pines are hung at the front doors, and from the opened windows you can see on the inside that there are rafters kept along with ornamental little flags of a hundred colors.

Soon enough the face of a dirt smudge stable boy races out of the wooden door, a wreath on the back of it jostles at the quick unexpected movement. Although on further inspection you realize he is a sylvan once you notice the two hooves peaking out from under his oversized cloak, he smiles brightly at the three of you while his big shimmering eyes shine a soft pink as he shuffles through the snow to Jaskier’s steed.

“Vallo Vaskier! Hove yuv bveen!” Exclaims the boy in a peculiar accent with a smile that could light up a room.

“Oh you know..” Shrugs the bard, “A bit of this a bit of that. But here’s something....I have made some loyal companions on my travels, they’re a real time, it’s been great honestly...although a tad bit dangerous at times but eh I’m still breathing.” He laughs, “So anyways, when’s the grand feast at the lady of winters hall?”

The boys face turns into a thrilled grin, “Are you performing?”

Jaskier glances to you before turning back to the kid, “Of course I am. Didn’t just travel all the way up here for nothing. So uh, when’s the feast?”

“Oh, right the veast. You hev to be invited first. But I vouldn’t vorry to vuch, vord alveys spreads vhen you’re here Vaskier.” States the stable boy with a curt nod.

“Boy you got any taverns close?” He snaps his head up to you, curls bouncing in the process as he gives a shy smile before nodding.

“Of course mviss. Vaskier knows ver they are.”

A smirk plays at your lips as you find the bards gaze, “I should have know.” You mutter, turning your head to find Geralt, “Now to find that tavern.” You add suggestively with a quick wink. Causing your man to hand you the smallest of smiles in knowing acknowledgment.

“Alright, Finn. Take this pretty lady to her home for the night. You’ve got two others who’ll need a stall.” States Jaskier as he nods to his horse, “And uh, the one with the scary face and white hair, be good to his mare. She’s very special to him, more then the half-vampire that rides with us and..Oh! Oww! Y/N don’t hit me woman!” Stammers the bard as you fold your arms across your chest.

A smirk upon your lips at his flustered reaction, “What was that about Roach being more special then me? You didn’t finish what you where going to say.”

“Well I would have if I wasn’t assaulted first.” Assures Jaskier, turning back to the kid, “Anyways, we’re ready to find our stead’s a place for the night. Well perhaps a couple nights, we may be here for a few days give or take.”

“A few days? He never said anything about that?” Grumbles Geralt in that familiar gravelly voice of his, “Y/N did he mention a few days?”

Grasping your horses leather reigns in one hand, you rest the other on Geralt’s broad cloaked shoulder, “Oh where’s your festive spirit? Come on love this is gonna be fun. I can feel it.”

Turning to follow Jaskier and the stable boy into the barn, Geralt tugs for Roach to start walking, rolling his golden eyes as he watches you swagger into the large pine rimmed entrance. Though a small tinge of excitement rushes throughout his body when remembering that subtle wink you shared with him only moments ago.

Your crimson irises light up at the colorful flags and cozy barn atmosphere, perfect for the tired horses that so desperately could use a good rest. You’re never this impressed by such festive decorations most times, but it’s been a long while since you’ve bared witness to such things. It feels rather nice, and anyways, another adventure with your boys is always welcomed.

The stable boy quickly takes Jaskier’s horse to get settled for the night, leaving yourself to find your own stable and Geralt to do the same. You turn, leading your own mare into a hay covered stall and doing what you can to help her feel more comfortable.

Taking off her saddle, you lay it off to the side, going now to brush her brown back, smoothing her fur down as you do. While so lost in your own little world you can’t help but begin rambling about your thoughts to the patient horse.

“Now since it’s come to mind...I think this place isn’t too bad, ya know? I haven’t really met any of the townsfolk so my true impression of the people here have yet to be determined. Although I’m not really getting a hostile feeling coming from this place so that’s good.” The mare snorts in reply, or at least you think she does, causing you to chuckle at the horses timely reaction, “Yes, my friend that’s exactly what I was thinking but you already new that and now I am talking to a horse.....and Geralt is standing right over there isn’t he.” You rush, whispering the last part to your horse.

Geralt leans his large frame against the wooden stalls door, a small amused smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you brush the mare. “Not strange at all. I think they understand, in their own way.”

“Maybe it’s because I travel with you too much, look at me, I’m talking to a horse.” You mutter with a small laugh, “Though I guess their company can be better then an actual persons. I have a feeling you know my meaning.”

He smiles again, looking around the barn until his golden eyes find yours once more, “Better then most.”

You gently tilt your head in a small nod, brushing the last of the mares ruffled hide before setting the brush down. Then reaching for your belongings that are hanging from a metal hook inches from Geralt.

He politely steps to the side as you take your cloak and sheathed silver dagger from off of the hook, bundling them under your arm you take a step forward past him, stopping for a moment to not-so-subtly trail your eyes up to his handsome face.

“See something interesting?” He muses, eyeing you up just the same causing a swarm of butterflies to make themselves know in your stomach.

Biting your lip you refrain from pushing him against the wooden wall and kissing him like your life depends on it, deciding to instead hug your things tighter and give him a small fangy smile.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Is all you can whisper out as you swiftly turn on your heel to go and find Jaskier before you change your mind and pounce on your Witcher like a cat to her prey.

It doesn’t take long to find him, the bard is casually seated on some blocks of hay as he gently strums on his lute while the stable boy brushes his horse for him. Jaskier is so caught up in his own world of playing that he neglects to notice when you’re standing directly in front of him.

“Jask!” You vocalize loudly, causing the entranced bard to jump and just about drop his prized lute if not for the strap.

“My gods Y/N, warn a man would you.” He sputters, setting himself a bit straighter once again as he gathers his bearings, “I could have dropped my dear lady just now.”

Taking a couple steps backwards towards Geralt, you chuckle, “In that case, I’ll try harder next time.”

Jaskier sends you a silent dirty look, causing Geralt to slip a couple hushed snickers out from behind you. “Alright bard..” Starts your Witcher, “where’s the nearest tavern? Considering it’s late and we’re all hungry.”

Jumping to his feet, Jaskier nods, “Right. Right. Of course, a tavern would be nice. Well my friend...and Y/N...let’s go find one.”

“Yes let’s.” Mutters Geralt, annoyance lacing his voice as Jaskier practically swaggers past the two of you, lute tightly in hand.

You turn to follow, nudging Geralt’s shoulder as you step past him, “Come on my White Wolf, let’s find that tavern. I could use a good rest, how about you?” The wink you send him is all but enough to fill his mind with wondrous thoughts for how his evening may truly end.

His heart admittedly fills with warmth and excitement as he watches you trail Jaskier out of the barn and into the wintery night air. Soft cool snowflakes kiss your warm skin as you stand in the silver wonderland, waiting for your Witcher to catch up.

A pleased smirk shows itself upon your face as you turn your head up to the dark clouds, enjoying the feeling of the small ice crystals as they float all around you. The night is absolutely divine, as you enjoy the small white puffs of air leaving forth from out of your mouth and nostrils.

You feel no chill from the harsh winter air, though you’re surprised when a certain someone unexpectedly attempts to throw a snowball at your back. Hearing the ball of ice swishing in the crisp air, you step inhumanly quick to the side.

A burst of laughter falls forth from your lips when the snow crashes into the shoulder of Jaskier as he looks from house to house trying to remember where the tavern is. He jumps back, his blue eyes wide as he snaps his jostled attention over to you, and the snowy haired man smirking from behind you.

“That was—was....Y/N!” Grumbles the bard with an angry pout before he begins to smile and eventually shake with laughter as well.

Chuckling still, you turn a raised brow to Geralt as he simply shrugs, “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yeah okay, Sir. I-Didn’t-Even-Want-To-Come...” Suddenly your eyes narrow causing Geralt to loose his amusement, “You tried to hit me with a snowball, you fucker.”

Geralt takes a cautious step closer to you, a pleading look crossing his features, “And now I know how well your reflexes are.”

“You already know how well my reflexes are.”

“Yes. But...” He pauses for a moment, trying to think of what to say next as you await an answer, finally he takes another step closer, bringing his hand to tilt your head up with the tips of his fingers. His face so close now you can feel his hot breath against your skin, “I’ll deal with your wrath all night long if that’s what you’d wish.”

Gently removing his hand away from your face, you lean in even closer, your lips practically brushing past his own, “I think that is a deliciously appealing proposition, my love.”

Geralt has no time to answer before you swiftly shift away from him, leaving the man with his thoughts and slightly tighter pants as he watches you walk over to Jaskier once again, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him.

It took about a good fifteen minutes to actually track down the tavern of Jaskier’s choice, an admittedly large and homey hall appropriately called The Silver Faun Inn. Quite the name for quite the tavern, as per usual when walking into anywhere on the continent in a place like this.

Your marry band of three was immediately greeted with a multitude of cautious glares and many other intrigued excited glances. Though to your relief, no one dares bother either of you while you make to find a quiet corner for the late hour of the darkening evening.

Soon fresh food and tasteful ale is to be had, filling the three of you up just enough to be satisfied for the night, but not too much, you’ve got plans for later. Plans that are so obviously unnoticed by the titular bard who’s now decided the tavern is in desperate need of entertainment.

Leaning into Geralt’s strong side, a lazy smirk upon your face, you watch in amusement as Jaskier joyously strums his favorite lute. “Don’t think I’ve heard that ballot before.” You whisper.

Your quiet Witcher hums in reply, earning him a light friendly squeeze to his forearm that rests on the table next to yours, “The enthusiasm radiating off of you is just, astounding.” You chuckle, burying your face into his shoulder.

Geralt smiles affectionately at your adorable reaction to his less then impressive one, his heart swells with more silent joy when you pull away once again. Only to stop yourself from speaking, your scarlet irises so caught up in your lovers humored face.

You remain quiet for a moment, your face stoic though your eyes crinkle with mischief before you finally break out into a large beaming grin. Without a second thought, Geralt leans in to gently press his plush inviting lips against yours for a beautiful moment of love and lust.

He feels so lovely, you can tell just how much he truly wants you, but all to soon does he pull away, “I think we should find that room, what do you say Y/N?”

Biting your lip, you stare longingly into his golden eyes, “Fantastic idea. I got the keys so let’s get outta here.”

In a heartbeat do the two of you slip from the taverns quiet corner to wander past your oblivious bard as he belts out another marvelous tune that sends the crowd into fits of song and laughter. Soon all is forgotten and left to the back of your minds as you lead your Witcher up the steps and down to the end of the hallway where your room just so happens to be.

Quickly going to unlock it, you’re bewildered when the little metal key won’t turn left, huffing in frustration you try and force it as gently as you can muster. Geralt leans an arm against the doorframe doing nothing to help you focus on your new task at hand.

“Y/N just turn it left.”

“I am turning it left.”

“More gently.”

“I am turning it gently.”

“How much did you drink?” He chuckles.

Snapping your head to him you playfully make a face, “Same as you idiot, now if only I could fucking get this bitch open then we could...” Errreck. Crack. “Oh fuck me.” You deadpan.

“I’m trying.” Muses Geralt.

Smacking Geralt against his arm you take a step away from the broken lock, “Dammit. I broke the fucking key....and I think the lock too.”

“Can you open it now?”

Sighing in annoyance you raise a brow at your man, “Well uh, guess we’ll find out.”

Turning towards the thick wooden mahogany door with its freshly broken lock, you nervously reach a hand up to turn the golden door handle, sucking in a breath you twist the knob only to be met with resistance.

Pursing your lips together you lean your head against the door, “Whoever made these shit locks I’ll fucking cut their hands off cause apparently they don’t need them anymore with whatever kinda fuckery this is.” You growl.

All you wanna do is get it on with Geralt, this is not helping.

“You could just force the door.” Suggests Geralt.

“I’m not forcing the door love, I really don’t need a bounty on me for breaking a knob.”

“Well, guess we’ll just have to sleep in Jaskier’s room tonight then.” Replies your Witcher with a shit eating grin, he knows just how much you want him right now. And so help you god if you don’t get what you want when it comes to a night with Geralt of Rivia.

“No! No! I can handle the fucking door!” You sass.

Taking a step back into the hallway, he folds his arms over his chest, “Alright then. Open the door Y/N.” Smirks Geralt, urging you to create some chaos.

Huffing, you take a step back, readying yourself to charge the grand mahogany door. The smirk on your Witcher’s face is admittedly smackable or kissable, you just can’t bring it in you to focus on anything else but opening this door. He watches in anticipation as you charge, hands out and ready to force open the closed entrance as you make hasty steps for the tavern room.

Without warning the giant door swings opens, taking you off guard as you fly through the new opening and into the grand room before falling to the hard floor with a grunt. Your chin smacks the wooden floorboards with a thwack sound, your opened palms doing just the same when you land.

“Ouch.” You mutter, lifting yourself up from the ground, turning when your nose catches the scent of someone new.

Snapping to your right, you’re caught with big brown fearful eyes of a young maid, “Oh, uh....your room is ready miss.”

Not aware of the less then friendly grimace adorning your face, Geralt steps into the room before you decide to shove the girl out yourself, “Sorry. The lock wasn’t working, I think we may have broken it.”

Quickly snapping out of her frightened trance, the girl turns a nervous eye to your Witcher, “Um, that key you have there...it’s not the right one. I’ll just uh....leave then.” She whispers, her eyes never leaving yours as she hastily slips out of the room and down the hallway.

Geralt gently closes the door, shoving a chair under the handle to create a makeshift lock while you take a couple steps forward over to the large mattress, resting a hand on the bed. He turns to you, “Well that was...”

“Entertaining much?” You scoff, rubbing your split chin, “I think I’m bleeding....no yeah, I’m definitely bleeding.”

Geralt hums, nodding before walking over to find a small spare cloth on the nearby table, “Sit on the bed I’ll clean you up.”

Doing just as directed you sit, watching as your silver haired lover walks across the room to seat himself next to you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Rolling your eyes you pout, “Funny is it? The things I do for you, and now my fucking chin hurts.”

Suddenly his eyes go soft, though there still remains a tinge of humor in them, “Y/N, you’ve already healed and the pain will die soon enough....here, let me just clean the blood away.” He mutters, reaching his arm up to press the pale cloth against your blood smudged skin.

Fine, ignore my pain you ass.

Though you’re still annoyed, the feeling of being tended to by Geralt is enough to dissipate away all your recent frustrations and brewing anger. Sending you into a blissful minute of staring lazily into your mans pretty golden eyes like a dazed lover.

Once he’s confident all the blood is gone, he sets the pink cloth in his lap, saying nothing as the two of you stare deeply into the eyes of one another, the sexual tension of the room rising by the second. You slip out a soft breath, the tiniest of smiles pulling at your lips.

“This is the part where you kiss my pain away. Right here.” You point at your chin, just below your lips. His golden eyes dart down, following your directions.

Ever so meticulously slowly does he lean in closer, the blood smudged cloth left and forgotten as it falls to the floor when his large hands go to touch your face. His lips press softly onto your chin, then cheek, then the other, and another two over your jawline. Earning a satisfied hum of approval from you, much to Geralt’s satisfaction.

Your own hands grasp onto his thick forearms, the rest of yourself feeling rather warm all over as Geralt kisses all over your face, slowly as ever.

“You know..” Kiss, “Geralt, mhmm....my lips are right here...” You mutter, just as he presses a heated one onto the preferred area you’ve asked. He tastes so sweet, like the ale he drank earlier in the evening, but this is admittedly much better then any ale you’ve ever drank.

Soon his hands fall to your waist and arm, then to many other places as he decides to explore your body with his calloused hands. Not being one to hold back, you do just the same, earning a low husky moan from deep within his throat when you palm him just to see what’s going on down there.

Fortunately he’s decently hard, the fabric of his dark pants are nicely stretched out from what pleasantries await you soon enough. Leaving him be for the moment, you gently break away from his sweet lips.

“Oh don’t give me that look.” You chuckle at the annoyed expression adorning his handsome features, “I’m just, rather wet down here and I’d like to get things rolling. Though don’t get me wrong I could kiss those lips of yours all fucking day.” You add, deliberately doing your best to give him your bedroom eyes.

He pauses for a second, his eyes trailing from your clothed nether regions all the way up to your shimmering lust filled gaze, “You’re already wet?”

Rolling your eyes you reach out to pull him further up the bed, “Oh fuck off, you’re already harder then a frozen ice cycle and that was before we even got into this room so shut uh uhh mhmm...” Is all you’re able to ramble out before he’s attacked your neck again with those beautifully plush lips of his, the rest of his body hovering just above you as he rests a knee between your parted thighs.

His lips leave a wet trail all the way down your throat until they reach the edge of your tops laced fabric, where a clear V is had that reaches down to the area between your breasts. He kisses once on the lace and exposed skin on your sternum, then another further down.

He’s just about driving you wild with the frustratingly grand lack of friction in certain areas that are so desperately craving such attention. Done with his teasing you lightly tug at his long white hair.

“Geralt just fuck me already.” You mumble, sucking in a quick breath when he gently squeezes your breast without warning.

Kissing your cheek, his face remains mere inches from your own as he stares mischievously into your crimson eyes, “We may need to take some clothes off first.” He chuckles, planting a quick kiss to your lips before sitting back on the bed.

Laying there, body hot and pulsing with pleasure unreleased, you hastily sit up and fumble as fast as you can to remove your grey top. Flinging it to the floor as your eyes find Geralt’s once again, though this time he’s completely shirtless.

Drinking up every last little piece of your muscular Witcher, you bite your lip as he smiles at you, “And that’s a sight I could look at everyday.” You just about swoon at his quick witted words, no doubt feeling a bit heated the longer he stares at you.

Winking at him, you swiftly shed the thin dark material calling itself an undershirt, a playful gleam in your eye as you watch Geralt quickly find your two exposed breasts. Beautiful and soft, your nibbles perked at the arousal coursing throughout your entire vessel.

Wanting to be bold, you wiggle a brow at him before confidently standing, your eyes never leaving his. He watches with an intrigued curious gaze before you begin unbuttoning your black trousers, earning another blissful smirk across the mans face.

Soon enough are all the buttons finally undone, with a spectacular dramatic bow do you then go to shimmy out of your pants, kicking them to the wooden floor in a rush as you’re now left in nothing but your small whole filled and slightly ripped underwear.

As to be expected, Geralt reaches a hand out to touch your exposed legs, getting nothing but a quick playful kick to his hands as you hum in disapproval. Instead you go to set a hand on your hip, nodding your head for him to remove his own concealing attire.

He hums in reply, standing to his full height as you unabashedly watch him fully undress himself, tossing his pants and undergarments to the floor ever so dramatically. He stares you down with those big beautiful golden eyes of his, you keep your sights locked onto them and painfully ignore his now exposed member that’s hard and dripping with pre-cum.

Biting your lip, you try your absolute best to keep from smiling, “Fuck me I love you so much.” You speak breathlessly, your eyes turning more serious again, “Now sit, please.”

Geralt hums, seating himself upon the soft billowy mattress just as directed, deciding to lean back on his arms and let his body lay open and ready for you. Blinking slowly you finally reveal a pleased smile down at him, just about mirroring the same one that he’s handing you so freely, just like his body.

Slowly you walk forward on the bed, your legs held firmly to either side of his lower waist as you kneel down, hovering your soaked womanhood right above his glistening member. You let out a breathy chuckle, resting your palms against his broad shoulders as he does the same action but with your bare hips.

“May I?” You politely ask, leaning your head against his as he gently squeezes the flesh of your hips in reply.

“Of course.” He mutters, low and gravelly in your ear as he patiently awaits your body, his very heart about to explode with how much he loves you right now.

Parting your legs wider, you remove one hand from his shoulder to quickly grasp his thick cock, “Alright let me just...” Bringing it to your dripping entrance you line it up perfectly, “I’m coming in..” You laugh, “literally.”

“Y/N you don’t have to say it...”

Digging your fingers into the side of his shoulder you quickly tilt your head to shut him up with a kiss, “Yes, but you laughed.” Pulling back to look at your face, Geralt’s mouth opens to reply, though his words are left on the wind when you slowly slide yourself onto him.

The new welcoming warmth of your core sending his mind swirling with nothing but a colorful bliss. Yours about the same, he’s big as he sinks deeper and deeper into your body until finally he’s completely filled you up.

Closing your eyes, your face scrunches up in slight discomfort at the new thrilling contact, this feeling isn’t anything new it’s just he’s quite large and you need a couple moments to adjust before the real fun begins. Sensing your slight displeasure, he keeps still inside you, trailing a comforting hand over your cheek as he watches your brows furrow together as you adjust.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t mean to hurt you.” Worries your beautiful Witcher as you open your glistening scarlet irises to find his concerned face.

Shaking your head you slowly roll your hips into his, “Never. Apologize for a big dick Geralt....you’re honestly about to work wonders so keep that pretty mouth shut and make me scream.”

Holding in his laughter, he decides to do just as you’ve asked, a second later do you gasp in surprise when both his hands dig into your hips. Pushing you down onto him even more as he pulls you with each roll of your hips against his. Creating a blissful synced rhythm that begins to bring a low pleasurable build into your soaked core.

He suddenly thrusts up into you as you bounce down on him over and over again, your chests rubbing against one another as you both attempt to hold each other’s gazes for as long as you can try. The room feels hot and sticky, the smells of sex, sweat, and Geralt filling into your sensitive nostrils that drives you mad with lust.

All that can be heard is the familiar slapping of skin on skin as you both move against one another in quick passionate motions. Without warning Geralt thrusts deeply into your sweet spot sending you into a flurry of moaned curses as he thrusts his strong hips into you over and over again.

Your body falls flush against his as you whimper and moan into his shoulder from the intense buildup of pure pleasure that he’s slowly filling you with by the second. He can tell you’re close and with that thought in mind you’re pleasantly surprised when he abruptly holds your back, keeping you against him as he quickly lays you onto the soft mattress.

You audibly moan at the new positioning, not being able to hold back any more whimpers of pleasure as he fucks you into the comfortable bedding like his life depends on it. You’re visibility sweaty now, the slickness of yourself and Geralt doing everything to increase your growing pleasure as he slides in and out of you like a crazed man gone years without a proper fucking.

Another moan escapes from your lips as Geralt bounds you into the mattress, hitting you with deep precise thrusts each and every time, leaving you with nothing to keep you steady but his bare back that no doubt is covered in fresh pink scratch marks.

He keeps flush against your body, his manhood buried deep within your parted thighs as he intertwines his fingers with yours, his lips so soft and inviting as they press against your neck and jaw. You can’t remember if you’re ever felt such pleasure from this man as he pulls you to the edge of oblivion.

He suddenly moans against your ear sending new waves of bliss deep into your core and just like that do you come, moaning his name over and over again as he relentlessly thrusts into you with all that he has left.

He grips your hands tight, his warm seed spilling into you a second later, causing you to squeeze your legs tighter against his, “Ugh fuck Geralt.” You moan, your lips brushing past his as he pumps into you for a few more blissful moments before he falls limp against your body.

Utterly spent with your heated love making session, you chuckle at his honestly adorable actions as he lays flush with you, his cock still buried deep inside. He may be a large heavy man, but you’re no common human woman who lays underneath this handsome Witcher.

It’s plain as anyone could see, though you’d cut the throats of anyone bold enough to take a peek at your secretive actions.

Humming in content, Geralt moves to lay at your side, bringing you along with him so that he can stay inside you for a bit longer. You smirk, holding him close as he does the same, “A little needy tonight are we?” You muse, placing a chaste kiss against his puffy red lips.

“Maybe I missed you in more ways then one.” He replies, his golden eyes finding your crimson ones, “It certainly doesn’t help that Jaskier is always with us when we set up camp. I never get a true moment to myself with you.”

Trailing a hand down his scar covered back, you smile once again, “Well you’re about to get a whole week with me if you’re lucky. And I’m looking forward to every single second of it.”

The way you make him feel cannot ever truly be expressed in Geralt’s mind, though you can tell he loves you deeply even when no words are said at all or perhaps when he gets flustered and stumbles on his tongue for the right ones. Though right now he seems to have you vexed, completely entranced and utterly opened and surrendered to him.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same, his eyelids close in content as you gently trail your fingers down his cheekbone, earning a low hum from deep within his throat that sends shivers down your spine even with something so innocent as this.

You break out into a grin, your fangs showing as you let out a couple chuckles once you realize he’s still inside you. His own lips curl into a tired smile, though he doesn’t open his eyes. “Y/N?” He mutters, wondering what on earth could be so funny right now.

Pushing a few stray hairs out of his face you blink, trying to contain yourself once more, “Oh nothing, you’re just being....dare I say, cute. And all things considered, you’re still inside me.”

Geralt shows you a lazy grin, “I like being inside you.”

“Yes and what if I have to relieve myself, or get a drink?”

“I see no problem when you’re lucky enough to be laying next to me.”

Fake scoffing you gently tug on his silver locks, “Geralt of Rivia you’re blessed enough I love you so much you ass.”

Finally he opens his eyes, the most adorable of smiles crossing his face, and only for you, “Well I guess someone has to.”

“Yes.” You smirk, “And I’ll make disappear the next confidant fucker who dare think to take you away from me.”

“So I’m assuming that last tavern wench we met a month ago went missing....not, under mysterious circumstances?” He wonders, a brow raised in humored accusation.

Rolling your scarlet irises, you give him a friendly pat over his bare shoulder, “I wasn’t appreciating that foxy look she was giving you, looked like a horny buck ready to pounce.” The look he gives you is enough to make you burst with laughter, “What? Don’t give me that face Geralt, I didn’t do anything adherently evil....all I did was leave her in the middle of the woods...near another town!” You protest, trying to make your little petty adventure sound less terrible.

“Well, at least you were nice about it,” Muses Geralt, “though I’m not sure if that’s better.”

“Oh shut it, I couldn’t help myself if you’d like to know alri...” Knock. Knock. Knock. Three raps against the thick bedroom door immediately draws your attention away from Geralt. Propping his head up by his elbow, he turns a protective glare at the mystery person keeping themselves on the other side.

Wanting to snap at the hidden individual who dare break you away from your rather pleasant evening, you push away from the soft comfort of the mattress, quickly pulling out of Geralt, you maneuver yourself into a seated position. “I’ll see who it is, can’t be anyone with a personal vendetta against us, well.....at least I don’t think so.”

Pursing his lips together in slight apprehension, Geralt silently watches you slip from the bed with nothing but a thin white sheet to keep your nakedness from any prying eyes. Your steps to the barred door are swift and silent as an owl in flight, just the same when you remove the chair from the door knob.

With one hand on the golden knob and the other grasped tightly onto the bunched up bed sheet, you turn a curious glance to Geralt who’s now seated fully upright on the mattress, a thin sheet covering his previously exposed manhood.

Finding your sights upon the door once again, you turn the knob, swiftly opening the door where you’re both greeted with the nervous wide eyed face of a young elven boy, who looks only to be about fourteen, dressed in lord-like attire. A suspiciously high status pose about him that sends your brows furrowing in confusion for this strange unexpected intrusion.

Wearing a soft purple scarf over a pure white thick fur laced jacket, his green eyes shift warily from you to your shirtless Witcher then back to you again. His cheeks most certainly reddening the longer he stares, mouth slightly agape, clearly this kid was not expecting the sight before him.

Deciding to relieve the awkward atmosphere, you clear your throat, “Well you certainly don’t look like an assassin, nor do you appear to be ready with coin for a wanted killing. So, do relieve us of this suspense...I was kind of in the middle of something important.” You state, the tone of your voice appearing slightly annoyed even when you try and hide it.

His big emerald irises flicker as he blinks, swallowing his nerves, does the elven boy in the fancy coat and purple scarf stand a bit straighter, “Hello. I am Venemyr of Rorym, messenger to Queen Allira and her husband King Gabriel of this winter kingdom of Turga.” He stammers, eyes shifting nervously from Geralt to you, suddenly he pulls out a folded piece of white and gold craftsmanship in the form of a beautiful card.

His hand shakes slightly as he reaches out for you to take the concealed letter, finding no ill intent from the boy, you fearlessly accept. Once in your hand does he finally begin his explanation, “I come to ask the Princess Y/N of Alkatraz and the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, if they will accept this invitation to the King and Queen’s eldest son’s banquet as special guests of honor.”

Oh, now things have just gotten very intriguing.

Not positive on how to correctly respond to this large proposition, the young elven messenger nods, “My adversaries had been made aware of you two by a bard named Jaskier who is thought of warmly in this kingdom, then it appeared that the eldest prince became very interested in meeting a lady dhampir and a Witcher of Kaer Morhen.”

Oh, Jaskier you motherfucker.

Smiling politely, Vesemyr watches with wide foresty eyes when he catches sight of your fangs, noticing his apparent change of demeanor, your face falls, “Uh, well, thank you for the message and this invitation? We’ll see to it soon, and without a doubt report back accordingly sometime tomorrow.”

“The banquet is in two days.”

“Is it now?” You reply in a knowing tone, your brows raising, “Good to know, now if you’ll excuse us...the hour is late and you’d better get to wherever you’ve come from before it gets any colder outside.” And with that said do you flash him a wink before slamming the door into his scared little face and high end attire without a second thought.

Looking down at the strange yet exquisite invitation placed in your hand, you turn it over and find the golden waxes seal of a house sigil. “Y/N come to bed, I think I’d like to have a look at whatever fuckery Jaskier has roped us into.”

Raising your attention back up to the naked man seated casually against the headboard, you smile, making swift steps to the mattress before launching yourself next to his side causing the bed to shift and creak at your jostling movement. Instead of finding his annoyed expression, you’re fortunately greeted with an arm pulling you flush against his side.

With the two of you wrapped up in the white bedsheets, leaning comfortably on one another does Geralt slowly take the parchment from out of your hand. He holds the letter up, studying it’s beauty in the side table’s candle light as you rest your head on his shoulder with one arm slung over his muscular waist.

His breaths are slow and calm, the rise and fall of his chest gently pushing you up and then back down again only ever so slightly while your Witcher carefully observes the golden wax of the houses sigil. “A stag, with a crown of leaves....should we open it?” Muses Geralt, fully aware of how much you want to see what’s inside.

Geralt I swear to god.

Gently giving his waist a loving squeeze, you nod, “If you’d be so kind.” Humming in reply, Geralt makes quick work of the letter, soon its cut open and pulled out for your eyes to witness its ink marked contents.

“Fuck.” Mutters Geralt dismally, “Guess that kid wasn’t fucking with us.”

“And I guess we’re going to a party.” You exclaim, much more excitement flowing through your voice then what Geralt could ever give.

He quickly turns his head down to you, “Y/N no. I don’t give a shit if this prince wants to speak with us, I have no interest in becoming involved in something like that.”

You lightly chuckle at his less then stellar mood before turning your face to press a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder, he sighs, meeting your crimson gaze once again, “Think of it, free drink and food, and this prince wants to see us....we’re practically the guests of honor and I cannot wait to see Jaskier tomorrow cause I’m gonna slap him for it...then I’ll thank him.”

“Ugh, fine.” Begrudgingly mutters Geralt as you press your lips to his.

Maybe a part 2 later on, idk we’ll see. Hope you enjoyed this :)

Tagged for series: @seninjakitey @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work) @a-girl-who-loves-disney

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt imagine #geralt x you #geralt x y/n

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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