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am-i-interrupting · 2 months

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A Broadcast For Bitch Breakfast | Vox

Summary: It’s the anniversary of Alastor going missing. Upset he left without a word, left you to deal with his shit, and maybe a bit worried that he may actually be gone, it doesn’t take much for Vox to convince you to go back to his place. Perhaps a bad decision but Husk is right, it’ll make an excellent story for (what he calls) your bitch breakfast with Rosie tomorrow.

Warnings: 18+, implied cannibalism, drinking, choking, oral, P in V

You didn’t want to get out of bed. Your body felt sluggish. Your head was aching. Moving a single finger felt like moving a ton of bricks. You hadn’t even lifted up your blanket and you already wanted the day to be over.

You groaned, nuzzling your face into the pillow. You hadn’t managed to get much sleep at all. Not exactly an uncommon experience for a denizen of hell but normally you could get more than an hour of sleep.

However, today was an anniversary and you knew it. You wished you didn’t. Then maybe this wouldn’t happen every year. Perhaps the third time was the charm, and next year you could get some sleep this night. It seemed doubtful though.

With slow movements, you got up. You switched on your radio, set only to one channel, as you picked out your clothes for the day. Radio silence filled the air and feeling petty, you grabbed a mock flapper dress.

You bought it years ago as a joke, just to piss Alastor off. With the reverse now happening, it seemed like the perfect time to bring it out again.

The dress was a fitted number in your most flattering color. It was off the shoulder with tassels hanging from the top and bottom, brushing against your arms and legs. The real kicker (or at least the thing that caused Alastor’s eyes to narrow and his smile to tighten) was on either side of your waist there were cut outs, showcasing skin. In fact, the whole dress showcased things that a true flapper dress would hide instead of showcase. The only thing that made it even resemble a flapper dress slightly was the beading and tassels.

Regardless, you did your makeup and hair true to fashion for the 1920s but put on some heels that were too tall and too clunky to be accurate.

Ready for the day, you walked out the door.

You passed by sinners and imps alike. None up to anything good, you were sure. Not once were you bothered but you couldn’t help but think how it wasn’t like it used to be.

Every morning for nearly as long as you’d been in hell, Alastor would wait outside your door for you to walk out or you’d invite him in, asking for his opinion on things as you got ready. Then he’d escort you to Cannibal Town for breakfast with Rosie. That stopped two years ago when Alastor disappeared.

Still, you found yourself missing the effect he had on other people. Back then people darted off as soon as they saw him. Now people looked at you and either didn’t know who you were or gave you a slightly weirder berth if they did.

At least in Cannibal Town, people still acted the same. They all smiled. They greeted you with an occasional small bow of the head, one shook your hand then turned it to place a kiss on it.

Cannibal Town remained more or less the same. It was a nice consistency.

“Oh, there you are, dear!” Rosie said, spinning around to face you with a plate in hand, tea cups and a kettle sitting atop it. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming today. Glad to see I was wrong. Come, come, sit. I was just about to grab some snacks. I’ll be right back with it.”

“Thank you, Rosie,” you said as she disappeared.

“Of course, dear, of course. Can’t let you go hungry, can I?”

She came back with a thigh in hand. She placed it in the center of the table and sat herself down. A still steaming cup of tea was brought to her lips. She sighed with a now content smile on her face. She looked you over carefully and that smile turned amused.

“Still no broadcast?” she asked with a nod to your outfit.

“Oh, no. I know he’ll make himself known when he wants to but still,” you said.

Rosie nodded in agreement. “For a man who prides himself on taking such good care of his ladies, he sure does keep us worrying.”

The rest of breakfast was filled with a combination of silence and gossip. It seemed like mere seconds had passed and it was suddenly time for Rosie to open.

“Are you going to check on Alastor’s souls?” Rosie asked as she made sure some things were in place.

“I do it weekly,” you reminded her. “At least with Nifty and Husk.”

“Okay, well, you have a good day, hon.”

“You too, Rosie.”

“Oh!” She caught your arm before you could leave. “I’ve heard talk of some kid trying to be the next up and coming overlord. He’s been getting a bit close to Alastor’s territory. He’s not any kind of real threat but if you wanted to blow off some steam and show him who’s boss. . .”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You did listen to Rosie. You found him easily and he truly wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, even as someone who wasn’t an overlord.

The past two years had been a prime time to grow your power and influence with the absence of Alastor. Not that he’d been holding you back. No, he’d encourage you actually but you never had any reason to, nothing to fight for. With the absence of Alastor less souls went to him for deals and with you taking responsibility for keeping his territory from falling to others found you instead.

You could do a stand in, sure. A couple souls here and there was no problem but you weren’t completely comfortable with the idea of being a full blown overlord yet. You’d take care of his people’s problems when they came to you (and the few you’d taken a liking to even when they didn’t). You’d go to meetings in his place. However, the responsibility was not nothing and it kept you busy even on the lazy days.

You found Nifty and listened to her chat your ear off about a story idea she had as she darted around cleaning. You mentioned off handedly that you could use some help cleaning up your own place since you’d rarely had the time and her smile gave you one of your own.

When night came, you went to the bar you knew Husk frequented. You found him at a table with others, drinking and gambling like you were sure you would.

You sent him a small wave but didn’t speak. Instead you ordered yourself a drink and started casually chatting and moving around, keeping his table in your general vicinity and the cards of others in your eye line. Round after round he won with a combination of his own cheating being aided by yours.

Sat on a stool with a drink in your hand, your attention had been on the truly shitty hand the lamb demon had until the sound of the door opening and a familiar voice hit you. Your head snapped.

Vox waltzed in with a phone by his head and a grimace on his face.

You hadn’t talked to Vox much unless strictly necessary. The only time you actively seemed him out was actually on this very day two years ago. You’d marched onto his office, grabbed him by the lapels of his suit (that he wasn’t wearing right now, odd) and yelled at him demanding to know where Alastor was.

Needless to say the two of you hadn’t had many conversations before that and after? Well, you only spoke to fire back against his points at overlord meetings, spurred on by Rosie beside you who would never say anything but wear a grin and the thought that Alastor would get a kick out of Vox being knocked down several pegs.

You’d just finished your first glass of the night, not going out with the intention of being wasted (you couldn’t help Husk cheat if you were), when Vox sat down right beside you.

“Get me a rye,” Vox said to the bar tender.

You pushed your glass using two fingers. “Make that two, would you?”

Vox glanced at you and then did a double take. “Well, well, if it isn’t Alastor’s little helper?”

“Better than being his fan club,” you retorted.

Vox’s screen did the smallest glitch, just a bit of static electricity coming into the air. He played it off with a scoff of a laugh.

Oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Instead he simply held his whisky glass in his hand. The liquid inside swished as his hand moved.

You took a sip of your own rye. A fan of it or not, it brought back those memories. You leaned back in your seat. Your glass clanked as you say it down with a bit more force than necessary.

“Rye’s Alastor’s favorite,” you said suddenly.

“I know.” You turned to look at him with a curious countenance. “Alastor and I have a long, complicated history.”

“Really now? I would have never guessed,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words.

There was silence for a moment and then, “Did he really never talk about me?”

You were feeling nostalgic, you already knew. Despite the resentment, despite the anger you knew was there, you couldn’t help but indulge him. The alcohol having softened the shell that was those feelings to reveal the truth that you really just missed him.

“Oh, he talked about you. Muttering under his breath about you ever time he saw you but he’s a secretive man. He’ll talk about everything except himself,” you answered.

Vox hummed to himself. “What about you?”

“What exactly about me, Mister Vox?” you asked, leaning closer to him.

“Would you say you’re the same or do your similarities with Alastor start and end with appearance?”

“What’s it to you? Looking for a new nemesis?”

“A man can dream.”

It was your turn to scoff. You turned your head away from Vox only to be met with Husk’s attention half on you and half on the game he was playing. He raised a brow at you, his claws drumming against the wooden table. You glanced down at the cards in his hand. You could see a small exhale leave his body before he did the same.

“You know, I always have wondered—“ you hadn’t even turned around to face Vox when you felt a hand on your ear— “what these felt like.”

Your back went rigid. No one had ever touched your ears save for Rosie and Nifty. Rosie when she felt like doing your hair and Nifty through scrambling up your body like you were her personal jungle gym.

“Vox, what are you—“

Your vocal cords betrayed you as you sighed and leaned back as Vox’s thumb carefully circled the little bit of downy fur at the base of your ears.

“A bit more coarse than I imagined but still pleasant,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up,” you managed to growl out even as you leaned into his touch more.

“Do you want me to stop?” You said nothing. “That’s what I thought.” You wanted to slap him. “The ears, the tail, the demand for attention, the way power suits you. Oh, how very much like Alastor you are.”

You felt the haze of pleasantness lift from you as Husk looked up at you again and he visibly was taken aback. You snapped around and managed to grasp Vox’s hand before it fell back to the countertop.

“You say that like it’s a compliment.”

“Perhaps in a way it is,” Vox said. “There’s a lot of things to admire about Alastor but the difference between you and him is that he wouldn’t let me fuck him.”

You almost got up and left then and there. You rolled your eyes and dropped his wrist. You went to grab your drink, planning on downing it and walking out, when Vox swapped roles with you.

His hand now wrapped around your gradient wrist. “Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll leave right now.”

You should have. It should have been so easy to say those two simple words of ‘you’re wrong.’ Instead you found yourself saying, “Your death wish a bit more prominent today.”

“Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic. I know you are. Otherwise there’s no doubt in my mind you would have thrown me through the wall. You can do it.”

You could. He knew that. Two years ago you hadn’t just yelled at Vox. You had grabbed him by his suit lapels and demanded the whereabouts of Alastor. After his initial confusion came some form of both glee and oddly rage. He’d yelled about how he was glad Alastor was gone but he should have been the one to kill him. Even then, even without the souls chained to you or the land to protect, you’d summoned some deep seated power within you and used it to throw him through the walls where he fell out of the building.

He knew you could do it and you did too. You should have. You honestly should have but there were a lot of things you should have done but didn’t. You were in hell for a reason and maybe part of that was your unwillingness to leave something unfinished.

“You haven’t said I’m wrong.”

He glanced down at his hand. His grip was loose. It should have never stopped you and yet it had.

You jerked your hand away and downed your glass. You slammed it on the table and turned your back to him as you began to walk towards the door.

Behind you, you heard Vox’s drink be picked up and then much more softly be put down followed by his footsteps.

Your arm was gripped again but instead of a light ghost of a touch, it was one you recognized. Husk’s paw was around your upper arm.

He took off his hat. It was used to block off the view of his mouth as he leaned close to your ear and whispered, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

Husk looked at Vox, almost a glare but not there yet. Then he sighed, “Don’t do something you’re gonna regret just because you know it’ll piss Alastor off.”

“I’m not an idiot, Husk.”

He flipped his hat around and placed it back on his head. He went back to his gambling buddies, grumbling something about a story, bitch breakfast, and Rosie.

Vox shoved you against the wall. You knew you should feel pain in your head and shoulders but this was Hell. You were used to it by now and Vox’s kiss was so much more interesting.

His tongue immediately slipped into your mouth and all you could feel was small electrical shocks. Not painful but buzzing. Almost like kissing pop rocks but with static.

One of his hands was cupping your jaw. The other was at your waist. His bare fingers touching your skin in both places.

Vox was full of new, interesting sensations. From the kiss and now just to his skin texture. You’d never touched him before, just his clothes. His skin was smooth and cold, like glass. However, only his claws had that hardness.

You pulled back. “How do I get this off?” you asked.

One hand was tugging at the collar of his turtleneck. You used the other to push off the black wool jacket he was wearing. Truly a shame to see it go.

He looked so much better in it than his suit or perhaps it was the fact that it was different. Either way, it gave him a 1950s feel even if all the clothes he wore were modern. For a man so insistent on being the future, he did hold onto at least some things from the past.

Vox sighed and moved your hand to the back of his neck where you found zipper. You couldn’t help but smile at the discovery.

“I can’t help but ask, do you need help putting on shirts that aren’t button ups or. . .?” you let your voice trail off teasingly.

“Shut up,” Vox said as he shrugged out of the shirt.

He then immediately placed his hands back on you. Your hair bunched up between his fingers as he drew you in for another kiss.

You felt his chest. Much like his hands, cold and smooth but not hard. You squeezed his shoulders and felt so much tension there. He moaned, fingers twitching.

He hooked his arm under your legs and swooped you up. Your ankles locked behind his back.

He rolled his hips. His hardness pressed against you. It was your turn to moan. You felt heat bubbling up inside you and your tail wiggle in excitement.

Apparently Vox felt it too as he pulled back. He adjusted you in his hold and began walking you to a room (his room you presumed). You were dropped on a bed.

Vox pushed up your dress and pulled on your tail. “Aren’t you just adorable?”

You glared up at him. In retaliation, you decided to pull him down onto the bed and flip your positions.

You leaned in, filling his space with your presence. You hands traveled from his shoulders to his navel and then back upwards. Your fingers lightly brushed against his throat.

“It’d be so easy to choke you,” you said, voice low and barely above a whisper.

“Then do it.”

Your fingers tightened around his neck. The smirk fell off his face and was replaced with a closed eyed, opened mouth expression. The muscles in his throat squirmed beneath your hold. You let up a bit.

Vox now looked up at you, hazy eyed.

You rolled your hips down against him. His breath hitched. His fingers pressed against the skin of your thighs. He pulled you down, held you in place.

His claw hooked your underwear. “Get these off.”

“Let me go.”

Vox did not let you go. Instead he pulled you down against his chest (which was now warmer than it had been mere minutes ago) and kissed you hard. He used this new position to slip your underwear down but as soon as they were off, you broke the kiss.

He looked ready to complain but a pressure on his throat and he was silent. You placed open mouthed kisses on his shoulders, down to his chest. You took a moment to lick his nipples as your undid the button of his pants. His back arch made you file away that information while you continued down his torso.

You slowly began to pull down his pants and underwear.

“For fuck’s sake hurry up,” he growled.

You paused for a moment. Then in two quick moment’s you pulled his clothes off and bit down on his hip. Vox gave a small shout as you licked at the now bleeding spot.

It wasn’t bad. There was barely enough blood to cause any space to start beading up. Though, there were definitely popped blood vessels beneath his skin.

“Ooooh,” Vox chuckled, “you little bitch.”

“No, not a bitch,” you said. “The proper term is doe.”

“I’d say you’re anything but.”

“Oh, really?”

You gave him your best doe eyes as you pressed your face against his hard cock. You hadn’t even truly looked at it but against your face you could tell it’s as long and slender. You mouthed against the base, not looking away from him.

“Oh, fu-uck,” his voice glitched.

You licked up and then deep throated him. You held your position for a moment. Then two. The small, cut off noises were too enjoyable to listen to. The unfiltered groan of frustration when he tried to buck into your mouth only for you to stop him was too entertaining.

You sat up. Your hand wrapped around him and pumped him. A blue tip peaked between your pointer finger and thumb.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him. He wasn’t the thickest or biggest you’ve ever had but he was certainly the longer. You could barely get him in all the way when you felt him bump against your ending. That pressure though, felt so good, so warm, like he was meant to be there.

You lifted yourself up and then down on repeat. With each thrust you let yourself fall with less and less caution. It would hurt if it didn’t feel so pleasurable. This was scratching an itch.

Vox sat up. His hands going to the tassels of your dress. They bunched up in his hands as he pulled the garment off of your body. He threw it across the room.

“You are so fucking—“ he groaned—“You drive me mad, did you know that?“

You didn’t answer because his hands cupped your breasts, so much hotter than they’d previously been. He licked at your neck and sucked on the skin of your shoulders, returning the favor you’d done for him earlier. He rolled your nipple between his fingers. His claws nipped slightly at your skin, providing another pressure that was simply there.

“I’m close. Fuck!” you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole building heard him with how loud he was yelling.

A whirlwind sound began in the room as (what you would later realize was) Vox’s fans kicked on. His hands (so hot you felt like you’d burn) squeezed your breasts as he gave a harsh thrust into you. You couldn’t help a noise of slight pain escape you while he groaned, voice and face glitching with pleasure.

You felt him twitch inside you. You could feel the warmth of his release filling you. You rolled your hips against the feeling. He surprised you by rolling back.

He released his hold on you, still lazily thrusting in you. His fingers reappeared against your clit. He rubbed it several times before they started vibrating.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, moaning his name. A lazy but confident smile covered his face.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

You whimpered and nodded.

He tugged on your tail. “Words.”

“Yes, mmm, perfect,” you said, words slurred.

His smile turned into a smirk. “Come for me.”

Now that he’s said it, you didn’t want to but you couldn’t help it. With his dick still in you, moving and spreading his cum causing it to drip out of you, his fingers against your clit vibrating, and now his voice demanding it, you were helpless.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

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agaypanic · 1 year

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Request for fem reader x Reese Wilkerson

Based on S4 E7 where Reese goes on a date with Allison (and technically Craig too) —> so instead it’s the reader and Reese going on the date with Crain tagging along but they all have a good time together :)

The Third Wheel (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

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Summary: Y/n and Reese have been looking forward to a concert for months. When they need a ride, their night takes an unexpected turn.

A/N: this was a little hard to do bc if I was Allison, i would've been so pissed if someone purposefully made me miss a concert i got (probably expensive) tickets for lol, but i tried my best :) Also there’s no pronouns for the reader but they’re referred to as Reese’s girlfriend. also F/A means favorite artist

***

“Reese, I can’t believe you! Why couldn’t you have waited until after the concert to get your license suspended?” You asked, anger radiating off of you. Reese, being Reese, had gotten his license suspended for a few months after some dumb stunt he pulled. You didn’t even want to know what he did; it probably would have made you angrier.

“Don’t blame me, Y/n!” He threw his hands up, as if he couldn’t believe that you would be upset with him right now. “My public defender wouldn’t even try to use the insanity defense.”

“Yeah, because that totally would’ve worked.” You were only half sarcastic. Aware of all the things your boyfriend did, you wouldn’t be surprised if an insanity defense would actually work for him in court. Reese didn’t seem to pick up on the sarcastic tone.

“I know, right?”

“Can’t you get one of your parents to take us? Mine are working that night.” You two had to find a solution fast. You saved up so much money for these concert tickets that nothing could stop you from using them.

“I’ll ask. Don’t worry, Baby, there’s no way we’re missing this concert.” He kissed you to seal the deal, and the anger you had felt towards his recklessness washed away.

***

“What do you mean, ‘Craig is our ride’?” You asked your boyfriend. It’s not that you had anything against Craig. He was just a character, to say the least.

“Babe, it’s the only way we can get to the concert. My dad’s car is in the shop, so he and Mom have to carpool to work.”

You sighed. You weren’t about to bite the hand that’s feeding you right now, but this was a less-than-ideal option.

“Okay, fine. It’s better than nothing.” Reese was about to speak, but you held up a hand and continued. “But if he starts acting weird, or weirder than normal, I should say, I’m getting out of the car. I don’t care if it’s still moving.”

“Deal.”

***

Two weeks later, you were waiting with Reese at his house to get picked up by Craig. You were wearing one of Reese’s jackets over your outfit to stay warm, and so Lois wouldn’t say anything about your appearance. You wanted to be a bit more dressed up, considering you and Reese were rarely able to go out to fun places by yourself.

When you two got into Craig’s car, you prepared yourself for the drive ahead. Craig seemed to be acting normal, or as normal as Craig could be. He made conversation with you and Reese as some nice music played in the background. It seemed like this would be a good night.

Until Craig passed the concert venue.

“Um, Craig, you just passed the concert.” You said, pointing out the window.

“Oh? I don’t think I did.” His tone seemed off, like he was hiding something.

“It said ‘F/A tonight!’ in the brightest lights I’ve ever seen.” You said, turning in your seat to watch as the venue shrunk to nothing as Craig kept driving away. “Craig, why aren’t you turning around?”

“Yeah, Craig, what the hell?” Reese said, staring him down from behind his seat. Craig shrugged, still driving.

“I’ve actually made some different plans for us.”

“But our plan was to go to the concert.” You said, starting to get angry.

“You can go to a concert any night, Y/n.”

“Not when this is the only night F/A is playing here for their tour!”

“Y/n, it’ll be okay.” Reese tried consoling you. The last thing he needed was for his girlfriend to kill their driver. You unbuckled your seatbelt and slid over to the middle seat to lean on Reese.

“I paid so much money for these tickets, Reese. I saved all that money for nothing.”

“Not nothing, Y/n,” Craig said, looking at you from the rearview mirror. “You can still make fun memories tonight! Now, I was thinking we’d start with a hayride. Then we have reservations at an Italian restaurant. After, we’ll finish the night off with a bonfire at the beach! How does that sound?”

You didn’t want to say anything; you were too upset. You’d probably say something rude, and this night would go even more south.

“We’re not getting out of this, are we?” You very quietly asked Reese. He sighed, which seemed to give you your answer. You put your head on his shoulder and looked at Craig in the mirror. “Fine.”

“Great!” Craig ignored that you were clearly unhappy with this.

***

By the time you got to the hayride, you had calmed down a bit. Reese had promised to pay you back for the expensive tickets and that he’d try to find a way to get you to see F/A in concert before their tour ended, even if it took an out-of-state trip. It warmed your heart that he knew how much this night meant to you.

The hayride was very pleasant, even though you still held some resentment for Craig. But at least he was paying for everything. It felt like a retribution in a way.

The dinner at the Italian restaurant was absolutely delicious. Having some food in you calmed you down some more.

Now, all three of you were enjoying a bonfire at the beach.

“I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I’m actually having a kind of good time.” You muttered as you roasted a marshmallow. Craig had a bright smile at the comment. “But I’m still pissed about the concert.” His smile dimmed slightly, but he still seemed to be having fun.

“Craig, we’re gonna miss our curfew,” Reese said as he looked at his watch. Your boyfriend was seemingly madder about the night than you were now.

“Oh, Reese, there’s no curfew on a night like this.” Reese groaned, leaning on you as he pulled his marshmallow off its stick. You two watched Craig as he pulled a ukulele from behind his chair, starting to sing some tunes.

“I’m sorry about tonight, Y/n,” Reese whispered to you before eating his marshmallow, shoving a graham cracker and a piece of chocolate in his mouth. You smiled at your boyfriend’s actions. Reese always felt making smores in your mouth was more efficient and less messy. When he was done eating his smore, he spoke again. “I wanted this to be the best date you’ve ever been on. We were gonna go to the concert, have fun with your friends, and then go to that restaurant you like to go to when we go out of town. And then we’d make it back with enough time for me to drop you off at home without worrying about missing curfew.”

You almost frowned. Reese had been upset both for you and because the night had gone in a way that neither of you wanted. But you still smiled because even though he could be a dumb brute, he could be so thoughtful. You kissed his forehead.

“It’s okay, Reese. I mean, it’s not okay that we couldn’t do what we wanted to do. But at least we had to endure this together.” He nodded in agreement, and you continued. “I’m glad I didn’t jump out of the car.”

“Me too. I would’ve been pissed if you made me have to do all this with Craig alone.”

“You know I can hear you guys, right?”

#reese wilkerson x reader #reese wilkerson #malcolm in the middle x reader #malcolm in the middle #agaypanic

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dracoqueen22 · 6 months

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The Care and Feeding of Vhampirs - Tempest Edition

Nym is acting very weird.

Er. Weirder than usual.

Tempest squints and stares at the arcanist as he hovers over Easton, offering him first a bowl of the stew Rathi whipped up, then a handful of jerky, followed by a bag of roasted nuts. Easton turns it all down and goes back to his book – it’s an old thing, all cracked spine, and crinkly pages. Tempest thinks he got it from Tarsus’ sanctum, but she can’t be sure.

Anyway. Easton’s not the one being weird. Nym is. He’s not foisting food off on anyone else, and he sighs like a Mam much aggrieved when Easton won’t take the food. Nym shuffles off and sits next to Dakota, close enough that he can keep an eye on Easton without it being obvious that’s what he’s doing. He starts eating the stuff Easton turned down.

Weird.

Tempest scoops a big spoonful of the stew into her mouth, and slurps up dripping juices. It’s delicious. Meaty. Mostly meat. Rathi doesn’t bother with vegetables much though Dakota dumped a bowlful of tubers and roots into the pot when she wasn’t looking. Silly Dakota. He’s always trying to get them to eat healthier things. Healthful things? Not-delicious things that’s for sure.

Tempest pushed the one root she found to the side of the bowl, and will tip it back into the pot when she goes back for thirds. Waste not, want not. Dakota can eat all of those.

Besides, Easton’s the one who needs to eat more healthful. He’s skin and bones, and Tempest swears he never puts any weight on. Like his body actively rejects food. Horrible. Maybe that’s why Nym keeps trying to shove food at him.

Everyone else knows Easton will eat what he wants to eat and when he wants to eat it, usually out of sight somewhere, but Nym is pretty new. He hasn’t learned their eating habits. Maybe he’s worried.

Wait.

Tempest pauses mid-chew. What if Easton’s sick and Nym’s the only one who knows? What if there’s something seriously wrong with him? She doesn’t know what it could be, but maybe food fixes it. If Easton’s not interested in the stew, or jerky, or nuts, maybe he wants something else.

Tempest chugs the rest of her own stew and digs around in her bag to see if she has something that might tempt his appetite. This old cinnamon roll? It’s a bit stale, but it’ll be soft on the inside and the sweet icing should make up for that. Oh, she’s got a few pieces of bacon leftover from their big breakfast before they left Delilly.

Everyone likes bacon.

Tempest wipes the back of her hand over her mouth and grabs both the cinnamon roll and the bacon. She skips around the campfire and plops down next to Easton, curling her tail around her body. He doesn’t even look at her, but his eyebrows twitch, which means he knows she’s there.

“I’ve got bacon,” she declares, holding it up to him. “And a cinnamon roll.”

“Congratulations?” he says, but it sounds more like a question. The furrow in his brow gets deeper. He’s very, very focused on his book.

It occurs to Tempest that Easton might just be sad. Sinoun up and vanished on them a week ago, and Easton acted like he had no idea it was going to happen. He and Sinoun are very close, too, so maybe Easton just misses Sinoun. It’s hard to eat when you’re longing for someone.

“You can have them,” Tempest says, laying the sticky roll on Easton’s knee and holding it in place so it doesn’t topple off. “You should eat.”

Easton closes the book and looks at her. The dark circles under his eyes tells her he’s not sleeping much. Even less than he usually does. He’s super-pale, too. But food ought to fix that.

“I appreciate the offer,” he says, and plucks the roll with two fingers before placing it back in her palm. “But you should keep it.”

“Bacon then?” Tempest suggests, holding it up. She casts a big smile. “Come on. You gotta eat something. For me?”

Easton sighs. He takes the bacon and nibbles one end of it, raising his eyebrows as if to say, “There. You happy?”

She, in fact, is.

Tempest takes a huge bite of the sticky roll – it’s a bit stale, but still as sweet as the day it was made. She’ll keep an eye on Easton, too. Help Nym out. If bacon’s enough to tempt him, she’ll make sure he gets more helpings of meat. Sinoun might be gone, but everyone else is still here. Sometimes, people just need to be reminded they’re not alone.

Easton’s a bit like Dakota honestly. Big boys that can’t take care of themselves. Good thing Tempest is around to help.

“Thanks,” Easton says after he’s finished the bacon and wiped his fingers clean. “You didn’t—I don’t—” He stops and his nostrils flare as he breathes out hard.

Tempest pats him on the knee. “I’ll bring you more tomorrow,” she promises, and realizes her fingers are sticky. Just like the spot on his trousers where she set the sticky bun. Oops.

Easton opens his book and hunches over it, pretending like he hadn’t heard her, but the muttered ‘thanks’ she picks up on the wind is enough of a prize.

Tempest grins and bounces to her feet, sauntering off to reclaim her bowl and another helping of stew. Minus the vegetables of course.

***

a/n: Thank you for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed. I plan on releasing more of this series and I'd love to know if it's something readers would be interested in. :D

#draco writes original fic #tethers universe #fantasy novella #tempest teapot #easton | riordan shaye #still unnamed party #they'll figure it out #sfw text #nanowrimo 2023

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venkman-and-rookie · 2 years

Note

Rookie, please, the brownie…

(Rookie): Oh! You're right haha! Time to prank Venkman with this nasty brownie hee hee!

...

(Rookie): Hey Venkman!

(Venkman): What's up Rouke?

(Rookie): I have a surprise for you~!

(Venkman): Hm? For me?

(Rookie): *She pulls out the nasty brownie, still in it's saran wrap.* Ta-dah! It's a brownie! I got it just for you~! *She winks.*

(Venkman): ...What did you do to it?

(Rookie): Wha-! I didn't do anything! It's perfectly fine! *Or so he thinks, hee hee! She thought.*

(Venkman): You're being too nice. There's something wrong with it, isn't there?

(Rookie): No! I'm serious! Everything's fine, just eat it will ya?

*Venkman reluctantly takes the nasty brownie from Rookie's hands, and unwraps it. A mischievous grin begins to form on Rookie's face as he begins to take a bite of the brownie but fades when he keeps taking bites of it, seemingly enjoying the taste of it.*

(Rookie): Wait... you actually LIKE that?

(Venkman): Yep, guess you were right, it IS just a normal brownie.

*He takes another bite out of the brownie.*

(Rookie): Woah woah woah hold on a second! Lemme have some!

(Venkman): *Holding the treat above her head, where she is unable to reach it.* Oh no you don't! You were the one who gave it to me so I get to devour this, might I say delicious brownie! Compliments to the chef, may I add.

(Rookie) ...H-Hey!!! Gimme!!! I want some!!!

*But before she’s able to grab it, Venkman shoves the rest of the brownie into his mouth.*

(Rookie): NOOOO!!! Are you kidding me! You ass!!!

(Venkman): *With his mouth full* Hey! lanfuage, misshy!

(Rookie): Ugh!!! Great. So the doc lied to me about his yucky brownies just so he can eat all of them! I knew he was a sugar addict but this is taking it to a WHOLE other level. And he even had the AUDACITY to ask me for a fast food run afterwards!

(Venkman): *His smile begins to fade* Wait... Egon? You got this from Egon?

(Rookie): Yeah, why?

(Venkman): He wasn’t acting weird was he? Weirder than usual I mean.

(Rookie):Well first off when I was about to go on a bust I smelled this really bad smell from down the hall! When I walked into his lab it REEKED! He said that he burnt his toast and the smoke made his eyes all red but I just wonder how badly he burnt his toast to get his eyes like that. Second, he was SUPER defensive about those brownies of his. Even after he told me they’re super gross he didn’t want me to throw them away for him. Oh and third he said he has a brownie dealer and he’s his best customer or something. Weird huh?

(Venkman): Kitty... you’re kidding me right?

(Rookie): Huh? No... why?

(Venkman): He was smoking weed, Kitty. And those were probably weed brownies too.

(Rookie): ...What?

(Venkman): Pot! Reefer! Hash! Mary Jane! Cannabis, Kitty!

(Rookie): ...Oh.

(Venkman): Yeah, “Oh” is right! God, I. I can’t believe it Kitty, how sheltered are you? You’re 28! You were in college! How do you NOT know what the signs are that someone’s been smoking weed?!

(Rookie): Uh... Venkman?

(Venkman): Do we need to have a talk about drugs and alcohol? Wait, oh Please GOD tell me you know where BABIES come from right?

(Rookie): Oh COME ON, YES! I know where babies come from you JERK!

(Venkman): Oh good, I didn’t want to have to do the whole birds and the bees talk with you.

(Rookie) VENKMAN!!!

(Venkman): Jeez, what? what is it now???

(Rookie): You ate the brownie.

(Venkman): Yeah? and?

(Rookie)...

(Venkman)...

(Rookie)...

(Venkman)... Oh. Oh no.

#peter venkman #kitty rouke #venky wenky #rookie cookie #answered asks #long post

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kozumedenki · 3 years

Note

Can I request kageyama, kenma or iwazumi with a secret s/o and the team finds out, they start asking question about how they met and stuff trying to intimidate the s/o but in the end they end up liking him and they bond about sports or something if that makes sense.

+ not so secret ⮯

guess who :) i'm kinda back in the groove and i hope you guys didn't miss me too terribly. i missed being on here and i missed my friends a lot :(( i'm so sorry for just dying for a couple months

"hey, kageyama... what's with that love charm on your bag?"

the gym went silent, all actions freezing in one moment as all the other students turned to look at the red face of tobio kageyama. the raven haired teen sent a sharp glare towards the loud mouthed ginger before continuing to shove his sneakers and clothes, not uttering a single sound.

"i've never seen you with one before, did a girl give that to you?" shouyou leaned closer to his best friend, curious brown hues trying to get a closer look at the other's backpack.

"mind your own buisness, dumbass," tobio, burning bright from embarassment, smacked the shorter in the forehead to push him away. all he got was a whiney 'hey !' in return as said ginger landed on his ass, rubbing the reddening mark.

"come now, kageyama. no need to be mean to the poor kid," koushi walked over to the pair, a worried smile on his face as he tried to keep what little peace their was with these two. "but you can tell us if you have a girlfriend or something, man. we'd all be shocked but... you know-"

"i don't have a girlfriend," tobio softly snapped, not looking at anyone as he got up off the gym floor. "just leave it."

"hey, we didn't mean-"

"tobio? are you almost ready?" a voice rang from the open gym doors, cutting the silver haired third year off. a (color) haired teen walked in, face scrunched up as he dug through his bag, the same love charm hanging from the zipper, and walking. "you haven't been answering my texts and my jacket is miss-"

the sound of sneakers against polished wood was let out as the boy stopped in his tracks, finally noticing how all attention was on him. a heated blush to match the setter's grew onto his face as he brought his hand up to give the other teens a small wave. "uh... hi? i just uhhh... came to, you know... walk my boyfriend... home..."

"...wait. boyfriend?"

tobio grabbed the (short/tall)er teen's hand, not looking at any of his teammates as he dragged his boyfriend to the doors. "good night, see you guys tomorrow. bye," he fumbled out the words as fast as he could, praying to leave before any of them got weirder than usual.

"hold on a minute there, kageyama." a heavy hand rested on the navy eyed boy's shoulder, stopping his heart and feet instantly. he turned his head to look up at his captain, dreading the next words to leave the older's mouth.

"let's meet the guy who's dating one of our little first years."

tobio whined softly and stepped in front of his boyfriend, a small and grumpy pout on his lips. "it's really late, we really need to get-"

"are you in any sports clubs?" shouyou's bright orange head popped out from behind daichi, big doey hues peering over at the (color) eyed boy.

"uhhh, yeah. i'm on the soccer team-"

"woah! soccer? the one where you can't use your hands at all?" a bright, fascinated look took over the short boy's face. "isn't that really difficult? i don't think i could ever last without using my hands..."

"well, it's not as convoluted as you think," he sigh left him as he got a confused look in return.

"convo... what?"

"it means-"

tobio puffed out his cheeks a bit, his grip tightening on his boyfriend's hand. he was glaring down at his shoes with a red face, embarassed at how interested everyone was with his boyfriend. he just tugged on the other's arm as he turned on his heel, not even looking up as he dragged the other boy to the entrance of the gym.

"hey! kageyama-"

"well, i guess it's time to say good night," the boy chuckled softly as he stumbled a bit, falling into step behind tobio. he smiled back at the rest of the volleyball team, waving as he walked. "it was nice meeting tobio's team, have a good night."

"wait, we never asked your name," shouyou pouted softly.

"oh, it's (name)!"

#♡.soft #□.ramble #•.nicoasks #▪︎.nonny #haikyuu #haikyuu x male!reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male!reader #male reader #anime x male reader #kageyama x male reader #tobio kageyama x male reader #kageyama tobio x male reader #tobio x male reader

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warmau · 3 years

Text

a sour taste makes its way down jisung's throat

he pulls the candy out of his mouth and scrunches his face up

"did this shit expire?"

renjun's lips thin, "since when have you started cursing?"

chenle harks on the grass beside the other two

"ever since he got dumped."

jisung doesn't disagree.

out of everyone to pick up on his change of habits, it'd be his best friend.

he doesn't like to admit it, but the breakup that launched the beginning of his summer has made him feel different

bitter, angry, empty

he's sure if he told someone older like his parents or a professor they'd explain that it's normal.

it's part of growing up to have to process these horrible emotions and learn to feel them less extremely.

that somehow doesn't comfort jisung at all, why is it his fault that being young makes everything feel more vivid? the shatter of the heart in his chest and all the little pieces wedged up in his veins hurt so bad.

"jisung, you'll find someone better."

renjun ties his shoelaces and gets up, he's still chewing on the taffy they brought from the corner store.

jisung follows and he's never been so awkward about his budding height more than he is now

"i doubt that, i don't think i could find anyone better than my first love."

chenle gives a depressed sounding laugh and renjun starts a spiel about how he's being dramatic and silly

the sounds gloss over in jisung's ears, he tosses the candy he'd spit out and the wrapper over his shoulder

"you shouldn't litter."

three sets of eyes turn to the voice, you stand there with your gym bag over your shoulder on a path a little way down from the grassy hill the boys are on

you look at jisung with an unwavering gaze that drops to where he assumes the candy wrapper landed

you bend down and pick it up, shake your head and walk away

jisung follows your figure through the park as renjun and chenle mutter about how you're kind of right but kind of rude

"do you know them?"

jisung asks and renjun taps the bottom of his chin

"i think ive seen them at the tennis courts."

jisung doesn't know what it is about you.

he mistakenly thinks it is dislike that breeds curiosity when he shows up at the public tennis court the next day

you're out on the court with a group of middle schoolers, showing them the right way to swing a racket

jisung leans against the shade of a tree as you go through each step slowly and then have the kids copy you one by one

when you make a sudden movement to turn in the direction he's standing, he slinks behind the trunk

this is so fucking weird, im being a creep

he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, or the rest of the summer, but still he cringes at himself

i should find something better than staring at a goddamn stranger. chenle was right, im cursing way too much.

so he leaves and he doesn't come back

but he visits the park for the next week with the slight hope that your path will cross with him on accident

not that he entertains that as actual hope - just that curiosity that nips at his heel like a cat asking to be feed

on day seven it happens

jisung is staring up at the expanse of the warm blue sky and you're walking from the direction of the tennis courts, you pause to check your phone and jisung springs to his feet

he's in front of you before he really knows what to even say

you don't look as freaked out as he was scared you might, you actually just blink and then point your finger at him

looks like they've got bad habits just like me

"you're the boy who litters!"

"i don't usually litter, i was just in a bad mood that day."

"doesn't excuse throwing your garbage around."

"is that why you remembered me?"

you slip your phone into the pocket of your duffel bag and shake your head

"no, there's another reason."

jisung itches to ask why but he realizes now that this conversation is going exponentially better than it could have

you could have said something like get the hell away from me....or who are you?

"do you want to walk with me for a little bit?"

fuck, i should have just asked why - asking them to walk is weirder

"why not."

you and jisung do loops around the park - it's pretty big so by the time you're on the third loop the night lamps are coming on and the sun is slowly disappearing

you two have talked about everything and nothing at the same time

jisung asks you if you're going to be at the park tomorrow

"i teach a summer tennis course for the park three times a week, but tomorrow is my off day."

"have any plans?"

he puts his hands in his pockets because they're sweating - i should have asked if they wanted me to carry their bag while we were walking. god did getting broken up with make me so stupid too?

"are you asking me out?"

jisungs palms stick to the fabric of his pants

"i got broken up with before summer started."

he blurts out before he can take it back, you poke your tongue into your cheek

"me too."

the genuine surprise makes jisung look younger than he is and you cross your hands over your chest as if you regret sharing the information

"sorry, i have to go."

you edge around him and jisung has one million thoughts run through his brain, how he should apologize or ask for your number or suggest something that could heal you both in the snap of this one summer minute

but instead he watches you walk ahead for a whole two minutes before you turn on your heel and uncross your arms

"can you meet me here at noon?"

"tomorrow?"

jisung feels the sweat on the nape of his neck now too, matching the moistness on his palms

"no, in twenty years. yes - tomorrow."

he nods and you don't give him anything else to work with as you disappear and jisung catches the last little slither of sunlight wave goodbye with you

"are you rebounding already?"

chenle's voice comes through the headphones as jisung clicks on a zombie with his mouse and shoots it

"it's not a rebound - we both got dumped so i thought we could like...FUCK! i died dude."

chenle groans

"maybe they can help you fix this cursing problem, but uhhh it totally sounds like a rebound to me."

jisung thinks about that as he waits for you at the park

rebounding has actually never even occurred to him as a possibility.

then again falling head over heels and getting tossed aside by the person he thought was his soulmate also never occurred to him as a possibility either - especially not before he's even managed to graduate university

but using someone to feel better about himself - that just isn't him.

"oh you actually came?"

he stops staring at the grass and meets the half smile you're wearing. he matches it with a shy one of his own.

you take jisung's hand easily - as if you weren't strangers a week ago - and tug him toward the park gates

"where-"

you look over your shoulder

"we have to eat ice-cream on a date."

jisung and you have the same taste, getting the same flavor of ice cream with a hard no to sprinkles. you tell jisung about this kid you teach privately for tennis and how he's a little rich brat but his parents always tip you nicely. jisung tells you that his best friend is chenle and they met when he nearly broke an elbow on the first day of middle school.

jisung pays for your bus ticket into the busier part of the city, you beat him at a couple of arcade games, and then he absolutely crushes you at mini-basketball. you pile all your tickets together and jisung tells you to pick the prize you want.

he watches you as you scan the cheap toys and then turn to your left where a younger girl is trying to see if she has enough for a sad looking stuffed panda

you dump the tickets into her hand and grin when her whole face lights up, jisung walks out behind you and goes

"you're actually nice aren't you?"

"oh - you didn't think i was nice when we first met?"

"i-"

jisung stutters when you look directly at him

"i just mean you- it was nice what you did in the arcade."

"why did your ex break up with you?"

jisung's world sort of stops for a moment. you still haven't looked away and he gets lightheaded by the sudden question.

"i don't know."

you nod, as if the answer is what you expected, and you take his hand again and make way toward the bus

he curls his larger fingers around yours and is silently thankful you don't ask for any more details

actually you both don't say anything the ride back, even though you rest your head on his shoulder the entire time

your hands are still clasped together and jisung finds himself not wanting to let go even when you stop in front of the park again

"thanks for the date."

you unwind your fingers first and jisung swallows

"do you want to go on another one?"

you shake your head

"sorry, i don't think i can do this more than once."

genuine shock sets in on jisung's face

"w-what do you mean?"

"i know being heartbroken makes you lonely, it makes me lonely too, but i can't just be someone's summer fling and get abandoned again. plus jisung -"

you tilt your head with a small laugh

"i think you're really cute and if we do this again i will start liking you seriously."

what the fuck do i say?

jisung thinks the summer heat in the air constricts around him - especially when he can't open his mouth to answer and you give a solemn wave as you turn and start to disappear down the sidewalk

fuck fuck fuck fuck

the curses start to hurt his brain and jisung breaks into a sprint to catch you before you make it to the end of the block

slipping his hand back into yours and spinning you to face him

"im not going to abandon you. and i - i already like you so please let me take you on another date."

the words fall out like letters into alphabet soup and you stare wide-eyed at him for about a second before you lean in and kiss him

and jisung forgets the entire language he's spoken since he was a child, curses and vulgarity gone with it

the second date comes and goes, then the third, and then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.

jisung watches you give tennis lessons and you even tug him onto the court one day to help with picking up the scattered balls off the court

the younger kids you teach really adore him, tall and smiley, they cling to him more than they do to you

and there really isn't any way you can stop them because soon enough you feel that urgency to be near him always too

it might be because jisung is so different from your ex, and you are so different from his

the reality is that when you finally tell each other what happened before your respective summers started

it turns out - it's almost exactly the same

jisung looks up at you as you lay across him in the tall grass of an empty corner of the parks sprawling fields, your tennis equipment abandoned and his shoes sitting beside yours in a lazy heap

"they just told me one day i wasn't enough."

you bury your face in his chest and sigh

"maybe im not, maybe something about me is still missing."

the tenor of his voice is sad and you put both hands on the grass to lift yourself up above him, you stare down into the prettiest eyes you've ever seen on a boy in your life

"shuttup park jisung. nothing is missing from you. you're enough."

he gives you a goofy smile and you want so badly to smile back and kiss him but you take the moment seriously and add

"remember when you asked me if i only remembered you because i caught you littering like weeks ago?"

the furrow of his eyebrow is enough of an answer

"i said there was another reason."

he sits up and you fall gently back against his knees and lap, jisung opens his mouth as if to ask what it was but you put your hands on both his cheeks before he can

"that reason was because i could see all of you - people tend to be shrouded in something, but it was all on your face the moment you made eye contact with me. jisung - you're the farthest person i know from being incomplete. you're you and no one else."

the weight of your words comes crashing down on you a second later and you get up off of jisung in a fit of embarrassment

even though you meant what you said it felt like something of a wedding vow than something you say someone you've been dating for only a month

but jisung just breaks into a bigger smile - he pulls you back down into a hug that gets you both covered in grass stains

"im so happy"

you smell the fabric softener on his t-shirt and suddenly wish you could slip it off of him and put it on yourself

his hands tighten around you

"i always thought the other reason was because i was ugly or something."

you scrunch up your nose and tell him to be quiet, but jisung just laughs and buries his nose in your hair

the rest of the summer is smooth and the happiest one you've had so far - and jisung, who had thought it would be hell, agrees

renjun points out that he hasn't heard jisung even utter the word 'damn' since he started dating you

and chenle cuts in that it's true - now whenever they game jisung just groans into the mic (or abandoned the game completely to fool around you with - as it is in chenle's imagination)

you notice it too, and you notice how everyday jisung grows further from the heartbreak that he had festered on for so long

and just becomes more open with you

on your last day at your summer job and what feels like the last day of summer in general, jisung picks you up with balloons

you both hand them out to the kids you worked with and keep one shaped like a big red heart tied around your wrist as you two walk through the dimming evening of the park

fall is coming, your shoulders shake and jisung pulls you closer into him, and when he stops suddenly

you see that you're in the place where you first met - when jisung had let that candy wrapper tumble down a grassy hill and you had picked it up with disdain

"is untying the balloon and letting it float off considered littering?"

he asks and you think for a second

"probably, it'll get stuck in a tree somewhere and we don't want that."

he looks down and leans in to kiss you gently, letting your lower lip sit between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away

"can we do it anyway to make the moment special?"

you look at him, eyes clear as day, and answer

"every moment is special with you."

jisung manages to get ten of those red balloons through the door of your shared apartment on your tenth anniversary

you fret about how balloons are bad for the environment, but still launch yourself at him in a big hug when he gets them all settled into your living room

he catches you, laughing as you both muse that you can't believe it has been ten years since you met

"and i haven't cursed once since then - can you believe it?"

you roll your eyes and say yeah sure, like he didn't curse when he stubbed his toe on your bed this morning

he pouts his lip and asks, "play along ok - just say i haven't cursed once."

"you haven't cursed once in the ten years we have been dating."

something twinkles in jisung's eye and you bite back your lip

"exactly - so is it ok if i curse this one time and say-"

he fishes something out of his pocket that looks like a small box, you think your breath catches in your throat

"i fuc-freaking love you - will you marry me?"

#i know this is read from jisung's perspective in the beginning but i didn't know how else to get across the like cursing thing #if i wasnt writing from his kind of vision but like the turning point shifts to the reader #anyway none of you give a fuck so ill stop talking #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #park jisung #jisung scenarios #jisung au #jisung imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct dream au #nct dream #sfw #cursing/#nostalgia

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chrisevansjellybeans · 3 years

Text

Undercover- Mob! Steve Rogers Part 2

Okay here is the highly requested part two to my Mob! Steve post! I had some technical difficulties posting it but hopefully you guys see it in the tags now :)

Warnings: swearing and smut

Word count: 2.8k

“When I said go undercover, I didn’t mean under his covers, Agent.” Director Fury slammed his hand down on his desk. It had now officially been twenty-four hours since your encounter with the mob boss and you had been waiting anxiously all day to talk with Nick Fury. The rumor around the office all day was that he wasn’t too pleased with how things went down.

“I did what I had to do, sir.” You stated boldly.

Fury scoffed but didn’t respond.

He was quiet for a moment, his eye scanning over the piece of paper in his hand. You fidgeted uncomfortably as your legs were still sore from your romp last night and you tried to hold it together as Fury gave you a weird look.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You muttered a thank you as you took a seat.

“Listen, this is all good and fine but I want more. This,” He waved the note in his hand. “Is just a drug felony. I want this bastard put away for life.”

“But what about Stark?”

“A slippery politician, nothing more. I want insight on just more than this. I want it all.”

You sat back in the chair. You understood where he was coming from, but he was also acting like you hadn’t just uncovered a huge piece of information.

“Sir-”

“Which is why you’re going to continue...seeing Rogers. Your undercover assignment has just been extended until further notice.”

“But, sir!” You stood up in protest.

“But nothing, Agent. You’ve made your bed and you’ve already lied in it. Now do it again.” He snapped.

“Are you pimping me out, sir?”

“You did that yourself, Y/N.” Fury snarked. “Anyway, as we speak I have other agents creating an entire new identity for you on the internet so when Roger’s does eventually look you up he’ll find everything we want him to find.”

You felt yourself sinking back down into the chair. He was being completely serious. You suddenly felt very hot as you processed all the information coming at you.

“And what exactly is it going to say?”

“That you are Y/N Monroe. You are the same age as you are now and a barista at the coffee shop just below your apartment. You went to the University of Minnesota and graduated with a business degree, but currently can’t find any jobs. Pity. Your parents died when you were young and you have no siblings-no need to wrap anyone else up in this. We’ve made an Instagram account since that seems to be the most popular app among adults your age. I pushed for no socials but apparently it’s weirder if you don’t have one.”

“Okay...but I don’t have a coffee shop below my apartment.”

“You do now. Your stuff is being moved into a safe house apartment on the other side of town. That’s where you’ll be staying for now. Don’t worry, I have Parker holed up in the apartment two doors down.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to try to calm down. There was nothing else you could do. Fury was right, you had made your bed. You reached over and grabbed the file that Fury had pushed towards the front of the desk. Your new life all put together in a Manila folder.

Damn you, Ma and your slutty advice.

“You can go now.” Fury waved you away, now totally focused on whatever file he had in front of him. You hesitated, wanting to say something but nothing came so you left.

“Y/N!” Peter ran up beside you as you stormed down the hallway. “Heard we’re gonna be neighbors.”

You smiled at how excited he was. “It’s only temporary, Parker. Don’t wet your pants.”

Peter blushed and gently shoved you to the side as you both continued walking. “I know that. But doesn’t mean it won’t be fun. We could have movie nights or something.”

“I suppose we could find some time.” You nudged him back.

“Oh here, before I forget.” Peter shoved a brand new iPhone into your hand. “Fury had me add some tweaks to the geo location so it’s more precise than what Apple has. My burner number is already programmed in there too.”

You studied the burner phone, impressed that they didn’t just give you another shitty tracfone like you were used to.

“Thanks, kid.”

“I’m not that much younger than you.” Peter grumbled as the two of you finally made it to the parking structure.

You smirked over your shoulder as you walked up to your Jeep Wrangler. “Young enough. ‘Night, kid!”

Peter flipped you off but was smiling the whole time as you drove off.

You punched in your new address in the GPS and followed along as it brought you to the older part of town. You had always loved this part of the city but never thought to move out here. Even though it wasn’t the new upcoming neighborhood, the rent prices had been driven up by the young kids moving in who just “adored the old time aesthetic” and the lofted buildings.

Your building was one of those you noted as you parked your car outside of your new address. The old brick building was tall, maybe six stories and had fire escapes littered across the front of it. The front door was a rusted green that you had to yank to budge to get open.

Extra security, I suppose. You laughed to yourself.

Your apartment was on the third floor and right off the freight elevator. You weren’t expecting much when you opened the door but you made a noise of pleasant surprise when you did.

The inside was warm and inviting. A plush gray sofa that resembled a cloud was center in your living room that you saw right away from the small entry hallway. As you stepped in further you saw a decent size tv mounted against the wall and two bookshelves on either side of it, filled with books and records that went along with the record player that was right underneath the television. To the left the living room was the kitchen. Nothing big, which you didn’t mind-you weren’t the best cook in the world. There was a small bar-like counter that had two barstools perched underneath. Down the small hallway you found your bedroom. A king sized bed covered in an off white comforter set with matching sheets. Small potted plants hung from the corner near the window and an array of makeup and perfumes littered the top of the wooden dresser.

Tentatively you opened the dressers to find a whole new wardrobe waiting for you. There were basics: such as t-shirts, jeans, bras and panties but there was also a whole drawer dedicated to skimpy lingerie that you knew was expensive. The walk-in closet was filled with dresses, some formal and some you wouldn’t let your grandmother even see hanging off the rack.

“Well done, Fury.” You mumbled to yourself as your fingers ran down the silk fabric of a long evening gown.

You were settling on to your couch, sweats on and a glass of wine in your hand when you heard a knock on the door. Slowly you got up, grabbing your gun from the plant next to the door. You looked through the peephole and let out a curse when you saw none other than Steve Rogers standing outside your apartment.

You shoved the gun back into the plant and ran your fingers through your hair before opening the door, but leaving the chain attached.

“Mr. Rogers, how can I help you?” Your eyes twinkled as the man in front of you rested his arm on the top of the door frame and leaned close to the opening you had created.

“You said I would see you soon, princess. Looks like soon is now.” The nickname again caused your stomach to flutter.

“I was just getting ready for bed. You’ll have to come by another time.” You feigned a yawn. Steve’s eyes blared as he stood up straight.

“It’s rude to keep your guests waiting, Miss Monroe.” Your heart jumped at the use of your alias. Thank god your team worked fast.

“And it’s rude to show up to people’s apartments unannounced, Mr. Rogers.”

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He hissed, but his eyes held anything but anger. He was intrigued. He never found a woman before who wasn’t afraid to dish back his sass. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

“Say please.” You teased through the opening.

“Please.” He said through gritted teeth.

Chuckling you closed the door gently and undid the chain. Before you could reopen it though, Steve pushed his way through scooping you up in his arms as he did. You naturally wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms held tight around him as you squealed against his neck.

He walked you back into the living room and plopped down on the couch, holding you so you were still straddling him.

You pulled away but kept your arms hanging loosely around him. He smirked up at you as his fingers toyed with the hem of the tank top you had on. His eyes fell to the wine that was only half drank on your coffee table.

“Heading off to bed soon, huh?”

“My bedtime snack.”

There was a part of your brain that recognized him for who he was: evil. But another part of your brain saw him as the man who made your body feel things that it had never felt before and that had your heart racing like a schoolgirl with a crush. The part that recognized that he was so easy to talk and joke with. The great sex wasn’t a bummer either.

His smirk was replaced by a genuine smile as he pulled you down and gave you a kiss that had your toes curling. He moaned into your mouth as you slowly ground your hips against his, your fingers tugging at the hair by his neck. His tongue massaged yours, letting you know exactly who was in charge at this moment. His hands ran underneath your tank top, fingers tracing up your spine before reaching the front and giving your nipples a slight twist.

He moved his mouth from yours and peppered kisses along the side of your neck as he lifted the tank top over your head. He threw it to the side as his mouth attached to your protruding bud while his fingers pinched and toyed with the other one. Skillfully, and with his mouth still attached to you, Steve flipped you over so your back was on the couch and he was on top of you. He lifted his head, his blue eyes clouded with lust as he started kissing down from the center of your chest, down your stomach and down your legs as he pulled your sweats along with him.

He hummed as he spread your bottom lips apart with his fingers, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. You wiggled your hips against his face but he responded with a smack against your core.

“Honey, you gotta learn who’s in charge here and who’s-“ he kissed your clit ever so slightly, teasing you. “Just a little cock slut.”

His tongue circled over your bundle of nerves while fingers toyed with your slick. Gently he pushed two fingers into your pussy. Your eyes fluttered closed as his steady rhythm and flick of his tongue brought your orgasm to the forefront.

“Shit, Steve…” you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him close. “Oh fuck, I’m close!”

“Let me taste you, princess.” Steve growled. You nearly lost it at the sigh of your juices dripping from his chin. “Give it to me like the good girl you are.”

“Oh god!” You called out as he hit that spongy spot that caused your thighs to tighten around his head. Your body spasmed as it rode out your orgasm. Your chest heaving and your legs shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers from you. A moan was caught in your throat as you watched him put his soaked fingers between his lips, a look of pure satisfaction covering his perfect face.

Steve leaned his body over yours but careful not to let his full weight fall on you. He ran his nose up the side of your neck, along your cheek before letting it rub against your own. You grabbed his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. There was something so erotic about tasting yourself when your tongues met.

“Show me your bedroom?” Steve pulled away. You gave a weak nod. Steve stood up and hoisted you up, your legs weak beneath you.

“Poor baby.” He cooed in your ear. “Only one orgasm down and already can’t walk. I can’t imagine how you’ll be when I’m done with you.”

With that he lifted you and walked down your short hallway to the bedroom. In your hazy, post orgasm mind you hoped the mattress was comfy. You hadn’t even tested out beforehand.

Steve threw you on the bed and you sighed as you fell into the cloud. You leaned back on your elbows and watched as Steve unbuttoned the new shirt and trousers he had on. You stifled your laughter thinking about the wine stained ones back at his house.

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed. He lifted your foot up, setting it over his shoulder as he kissed the inside of your calf.

“No, sir.” You teased.

“You’re a bad liar.” He nipped at your knee.

Not as bad as you might think.

Steve made you come at least four more times that night. Your body completely spent when he finally rolled over and laid next to you, yours and his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

You rolled over and threw your leg and arm over his body, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Steve’s fingers toyed with yours as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Spend the night?” You asked into the darkness. It was nearly three in the morning and your eyes were slowly closing no matter how much you willed them to stay open.

“I have some business things that I have to take care of early in the morning.” He answered, his fingers running up and down your arm.

“Oh, okay.” You said sadly. Steve’s chest rumbled with light laughter as he brought your hand that was in his up to his lips and gave it a kiss. You were soon realizing that he was actually a very affectionate person.

“But I want you to come back to the house tomorrow. I’ll send one of my guys for you in the afternoon.”

“Really?” You sat up. Steve blindly reached for your nightstand and turned on the lamp that was on it. His hair was tousled from the numerous times you had run your fingers through it and his lips were red and swollen. He looked like the epitome of sex and it was fucking hot.

“Yes, really.” He chuckled. He grabbed your phone that was on the nightstand and held it out for you to unlock. You did quickly and he took it back and started typing. “I don’t give out my personal number to a lot of people.”

“So I’m special.” You wiggled in your spot, a grin covering your face.

“Yes. You are.” Steve looked back at you and you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. He handed your phone back to you and you laughed at the name he had for his contact: Steve Rogers and an eggplant emoji.

“You’re a child.” You giggled.

Steve rolled his eyes and got out of bed and you took the time to appreciate his bum as he walked over to get his pants.

You gathered the soft sheets in your hand and brought them up to your chest. Although you weren’t sure what you were trying to hide, he had seen it all.

Once he was dressed and you slipped on a robe that you found hanging behind the door, you walked him out. He stood in your doorframe, his large figure making the space seem very small. He smiled as he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your head and leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“Make sure to lock all the doors behind me. And text me when you wake up tomorrow.” He demanded softly.

“Mmmkay, I will.” You said hazily.

“Go get some sleep, princess.” He laughed as he pushed away from the door and walked to the elevator. You watched as he got in and gave you a quick wave before whipping out his phone to make a call.

Once he was out of sight you closed the door softly, making sure to bolt everything before heading back to your bed. You were too tired to even clean up before you passed out.

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #mob steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #mob! steve x reader

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bowtiesandflutes · 3 years

Text

How You Met

First Doctor

You were a Thal he had met on the group's first trip to Skaro. You noticed the tension in the group and tried to ease it, talking to the Doctor who called you a 'silly girl' but you never took offense. You knew he was rough around the edges, but he did care about Susan, although he had shown it in the worst of ways. You helped them escape Skaro and left him with parting words that stuck with him centuries later.

Second Doctor

You were the wife of Ramón Salamander and met the Doctor when he impersonated him, but you could see through it immediately. "We need to warn him!" Victoria whispered to Jamie who nodded in agreement, grinning when he saw you appear in the doorway. He knew they had to warn the Doctor, but he would enjoy his reaction.

"Oh Ramón, you have finally returned!" You walked towards the man you believed was your husband, kissing him passionately. He froze in the beginning, awkwardly returning the kiss. "What's wrong, my love? Are you unwell? I told you not to overdo it."

"I'm fine." He cleared his throat, "You worry too much."

You playfully rolled your eyes and hugged him. "I am your wife it is my job to worry about you." You pulled his hand with a smirk, "He needs rest, gentlemen. You can continue this meeting in the morning."

"Yes, Mrs Salamander."

The Doctor quickly figured out where you were leading him and looked around for a quick exit, or a distraction. You took him to the bedroom and closed the door, locking it with a smirk.

"There. Now no one can disturb us." You approached him, taking off your dress which caused panic to flash in his eyes, breaking character briefly.

"Oh Ramón, I have missed you!" You kissed him and when he pulled away minutes later you smirked, listening to him stammer, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"You are not my Ramón." You interrupted.

"N-No."

"Where is he?" You asked.

"O-On business. While I-I was over there, he was here. Then I heard he was leaving so I came here. Believe me, this was not my idea." He said.

You nodded, stepping toward him. "Alright. I'll keep your secret." You said.

The Doctor thanked you and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. "My pleasure."

His eyes widened when you kissed him, but he didn't pull away, though he took a few moments to respond. His hesitance and uncertainty faded away and soon he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever known.

Perhaps Ramón being away for a few days wouldn't be so bad after all.

Third Doctor

You were a nurse at the hospital and were the first face he saw when he woke up. You helped him when a group of men tried to kidnap him from the hospital and when he found he was stranded on Earth, he would visit you and invite you along with him on his adventures and watch him work in the lab.

Fourth Doctor

You were the Brigadier's secretary and you had spoken to the Doctor many times during his third incarnation before passing him through to Alistair. Your job became muddled with his adventures and you became his companion and left to travel with him until he had to go back to Gallifrey.

Fifth Doctor

You were a companion in his eleventh incarnation and used a Vortex Manipulator to travel back to his previous selves and got stuck for a year, the Doctor is the one to fix it. Your teasing was irritating at the beginning as you refused to tell him your real name. But over time, your teasing becomes flirtatious comments and Teegan is always trying to guess what your relationship to the Doctor is in the future, and even when she guessed correctly, you still didn't confirm it. But the Doctor knew and when the Vortex Manipulator is fixed, he himself knows what your relationship is and kisses you goodbye, telling you he can't wait to meet you.

Sixth Doctor

You traveled with him during his fifth incarnation.

Seventh Doctor

You were a friend of Ace who (like Ace) could handle yourself in dangerous situations and you both got invited to become companions in the Tardis at the same time.

Eighth Doctor

You heard noises coming from the morgue and turned off the television, heading to investigate. A man you had wheeled in earlier, confirmed dead, walking out while keeping himself covered, was not what you were expecting to find. You screamed, probably scaring him more than he had scared you, and you grabbed the closest thing near you to hit him with when he approached.

After much confused and frightened yelling back and forth, you helped him find clothes. You were sure the outfit he had settled on was meant for Halloween but didn't dare speak as you stared at the strange man.

"You were dead."

"I was, yes." He smiled, eyebrows furrowing when you pressed a finger to his cheek, checking he wasn't a figment of your imagination. "You're not going to hit me with a clipboard again, are you?

"No."

You helped him against the Master, believing him when he remembered who he was, saying, "You came back from the dead. This night couldn't get any weirder."

And when it was over, you agreed to travel with him.

War Doctor

You attended the academy together, meeting again during the Time War. You were ushering children to safety and when he had come across you, he had stopped to help.

Ninth Doctor

You were a scientist enlisted to help examine the genetically altered pig and had caught him looking around. When he tried to use the psychic paper it didn't work so he resorted to telling you the truth and you helped him find the pig, saddened when it died. You helped him against the Slitheen and parted ways after Downing Street was left in a pile of rubble.

Tenth Doctor

You met in the alternate universe, an ordinary woman turned soldier to fight against the Cybermen. You were trapped in his universe and helped him after he lost Rose.

Eleventh Doctor

You were Rory's sister and when Prisoner Zero was in the hospital, it had knocked you unconscious and when you woke up, the alien was gone and you were introduced to the Time Lord, who didn't hesitate to persuade you to join the three of them on adventures.

Twelfth Doctor

You worked at the school with Clara and despite his many attempts to keep distance between you, you were always caring towards him. When you found the Tardis, he gave a brief explanation while insulting your intelligence and when you called his bluff, he took you on a trip, claiming it was only to prove a point. But you became a great friend in time and later became more.

Thirteenth Doctor

You were traveling with her when she regenerated.

Delgado!Master

You were a scientist at UNIT and a companion of the Doctor. You met the Master when he took you hostage, not harming you, and you were caught between the two Time Lords every time the Master reappeared.

Ainley!Master

You were a companion of the Sixth Doctor and he took you with him for a while, leaving the Doctor to chase him down to find you. Only when he did, you didn't want to leave the Master behind.

Roberts!Master

You were the wife of the man whose body he had possessed and when you saw the odd colour of his eyes in the light, you immediately knew something was wrong. You fought against him and he knew you would be valuable to him alive. So he got you to help him, spouting lies in the beginning that you never believed. You were stubborn and he realized early on that he could not hypnotize you so he settled for the truth. You made a deal with him that once it was over, he would leave your husband alone and he agreed.

Jacobi!Master

You had been traveling for weeks to reach the silo. You were skilled at fighting Futurekind and stepped in when a group of Futurekind tried to hunt a family heading where you were going.

When you entered the gates, you began to ask questions, questions about a man who everyone was calling their savior. So, desperate for answers, you sneaked past guards and found the lab was empty. Chantho had caught you looking around, and when the Professor returned, he summoned guards, but you had seen the missing factors in their plan and bargained with them. They didn't toss you to the Futurekind, and you helped everyone reach Utopia.

Simms!Master

You were his secretary who organized meetings, calls and was attached to his hip nearly 24/7. You always knew there was something about him and when you were going over an itinerary in his office before he had to go to a meeting, he caught your curious staring.

"Didn't your mother tell you that staring is rude?"

You apologized, looking at the desk.

"Well, what is it?" He asked.

"Nothing, Mr. Saxon."

He knew you were suspicious, but you were more help to him alive (as much as he hated to admit) so he told you the truth and his plan. You were shocked by it and he used your attraction toward him as a weakness, starting an affair with you. When he captured Martha's family and turned the Doctor old, he tossed Lucy in a cell and you were no longer his secretary but his lover who was almost as mad as him. He had changed your shy personality for the better in both your minds, but others would disagree. The Doctor had tried to reach out to you but you were loyal to only the Master who was surprised by how much you had started to mean to him.

Missy

You met when the Doctor brought her onto the Tardis. You were traveling with him after you were captured. She was relieved to see you again, and although she was no longer the blonde-haired hoodie-wearing Time-Lord you knew, you were open to continuing your relationship.

Dhawan!Master

You were a companion of the Doctor since his Twelfth incarnation and had grown close to Missy. You would often sit and talk about the people around you. Missy organizing people into different torture factories (telling you who would go where) and you would join in. You were mischievous like her and even the Doctor had trouble reigning you in at times. You had a feeling that something wasn't quite right about O when you first met him and when you confronted him before going to Barton's party, you surprised him when you said, "I won't tell her." You had hugged him and whispered in his ear, "Welcome back."

Jamie McCrimmon

You were arranged to be married to join your clans. You went traveling with him in the Tardis and got married when you returned.

Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart

You were born decades in his future and had met the Second Doctor during one of his adventures and became a valued addition to the Tardis. You met the Brigadier, then Colonel, during the Web of Fear. He was taken back by your flirtatious personality, leaving him speechless. You weren't like, women in his time and that was something that drew him to you immediately. You meet him again during the Invasion of the Cybermen and decide to stay in his time to pursue a relationship with him.

Mike Yates

You met when you were teenagers.

Alydon

You were a Thrall and it wasn't uncommon for his eyes to wander from Dyoni whom he was to be betrothed to, however, when the war with the Daleks grew nearer, your father pledged his alliance to Alydon. People used to call your father paranoid for he always said that the Dals would return and bring nothing but death with them. Alydon was shocked that he had a daughter who was a trained warrior. His staring caused teasing that you ignored as you questioned the bashful leader about the Daleks. He swore that the planet stopped turning when you looked at him, the only beautiful thing in the withered forest.

Rory Williams

You met during his time in Rome. You helped him blend in and he was thankful for your help. A friendship quickly blossomed between you.

Ian Chesterton

You were the new teacher at the school. Ian had overheard many students talking about you and when Susan entered his class late he wondered if she really thought his class was that boring. He would have been insulted if she wasn't the smartest in his class.

"You're late." He stated.

You followed Susan inside and Ian paused when he saw you. "Its my fault, Mr Chesterton."

He cleared his throat, shaking your outstretched hand. "Right. Well, don't let it happen again.

You smiled, "Of course." You left the room, sending Susan a wave that she eagerly returned.

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handwrittenhello · 3 years

Text

gave you wings

T, Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer, 4k, modern-with-magic AU. When Geralt is woken one morning by a crow tapping at his window, he finds that it's no ordinary crow--it's a shifter, bound in animal form by a nasty spell.

read here on ao3, or below:

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Geralt was roused from sleep by something persistent tapping at his window. With a groan, he rolled over—catching sight of his alarm clock flashing 3:48 as he did—and went to investigate.

He hoped it wasn’t one of the local kids again—lately they’d become far too fond of daring each other to throw rocks at his windows. It almost made him long for the times when witchers were feared and hated—nobody would dare risk provoking him so stupidly.

When he opened the window, though, it wasn’t kids throwing rocks—no, a crow sat on his windowsill, a pebble clutched in its beak, which it promptly dropped when it saw Geralt.

“Scram,” Geralt muttered, waving it away, but all it did was hop sideways a bit before letting out a loud caw.

Geralt furrowed his brow. “Get out of here,” he said a bit louder, trying to shoo it away again. It deftly avoided his hands, flapping a little to maintain balance on the narrow sill, before hopping onto his hands and letting out an even louder CAW.

This was no ordinary crow. Why else would it be tapping on his window so early in the morning, and so unafraid of his closeness? “Fuck,” he muttered, and left the window open while he went to brew a pot of coffee.

The crow seemed quite at home perched atop his kitchen counter, watching him with its beady eyes as he leaned back against the fridge and downed a cup of heavily sugared coffee. “So,” Geralt finally said, setting down his mug on the counter. “What’s so important that you got me out of bed at four in the morning for?”

The crow drew itself up and ruffled its feathers, as if readying itself for a speech. It was a strangely human gesture—Geralt was reminded that they wouldn’t get very far with the crow not being able to speak.

“Hm. Can you even understand me?” Geralt backtracked, earning himself an indignant look and a low rattling sound. But the crow bobbed its head up and down in a sure nod. “But you can’t speak.” Another nod.

The crow hopped closer, then, until it was almost atop Geralt’s hand lying on the countertop. Geralt caught a flash of something shiny around its leg—was there something wrapped around it? But when he made to reach for it, the crow skittered backwards, making another low rattle and fluffing up its feathers.

“It’s alright, I just want to look,” Geralt soothed, stilling his hand. The rattle stopped, and the bird hopped hesitantly closer. Geralt waited for it to come to him, motionless and patient. Only when it perched on his hand did he bring it closer, peering intently at its leg.

A silver chain, so fine as to be nearly invisible to the eye, wound its way around the crow’s leg. This close, he could see the barely-there, shimmering aura around it—it was surely enchanted. Likely a binding charm—chains rarely served any other purpose in spells.

Geralt whistled lowly. “No ordinary crow, then,” he surmised, though he’d already known. “Human?”

The crow rattled its displeasure at the term—so it wasn’t transfigured, then. But it was still clearly sentient—

“Ah,” Geralt said, an idea dawning. “A shifter.”

Sometimes called weyr, in the old tongue—as survived in words like werewolf—the species was exceedingly rare. Even before monsters and chaos had dwindled down to nearly nothing, one would be hard-pressed to encounter a shifter, let alone recognize one upon seeing it. In human form, they were indistinguishable from anyone else, by the naked eye or by magic. They retained their wits in their animal form, too, so unless one was careless enough to be seen shifting, it was nigh impossible for them to be caught.

Their rarity had made them a target by mages and non-mages alike—they were either hunted in hopes of harnessing their unique connection to chaos, or else were pursued by the ignorant who feared anything strange.

It was nothing short of a miracle, one showing up at Geralt’s door (or window, rather).

“Someone caught you. A mage,” Geralt guessed. Only a powerful magic user would be able to bind a shifter so thoroughly. “But why are you here?”

The crow cawed and launched itself towards Geralt’s throat. Geralt jerked his head back, but he had nothing to fear—the crow was pecking at the witcher medallion that lay in the hollow of his throat.

“My friend, you’d be far better off going to a mage. I have skill with breaking curses, but none so complex as yours,” Geralt confessed.

The crow let out an ear-splitting screech. Geralt slammed his hands over his ears. That would be a resounding no, then. He decided not to broach the matter of payment just then.

He eyed the crow, wary of another reaction. When none was forthcoming, he cautiously lowered his hands, the crow watching him intently all the while—waiting for an answer.

“I’ll help you,” Geralt decided. Well, he had decided the moment he’d let the crow inside, really, but it was easier to pretend he’d made an informed decision. “May I see the charm again?”

The crow obliged, fidgeting in place but mostly managing to hold still while Geralt inspected the chain. Though it was fine, he doubted it would be as simple as snapping it—that didn’t stop him from trying anyway, though the moment he touched it, the crow screeched and beat him back with its wings, before retreating to atop the fridge. There it huddled, fussing fretfully at its leg—and then Geralt saw, almost obscured by feathers but visible when looking for it, the dark skin beneath the chain, the blackened marks that resulted from a bad burn.

“Enchanted and cursed, then. I apologize.” The crow glared at him, not moving from its spot stop the fridge and out of reach. “I won’t touch it again. I promise,” Geralt vowed, sorry that he had caused any pain in the first place.

The crow huffed, but flapped back down to the counter. It watched Geralt, waiting for his next move.

“Come with me,” Geralt said, grabbing his jacket and keys.

The crow gripped the handlebars of Geralt’s motorbike tightly, the wind whipping past and threatening to dislodge it. It kept starting to open its wings, only to force them closed again, as if it was reminding itself that it wasn’t actually flying. Geralt kept a close watch anyway, afraid that if he took a turn too sharply or revved the engine too suddenly, the crow would be thrown off and crushed beneath the wheels of another vehicle.

Should’ve taken a taxi, Geralt thought to himself, but it was too late now. They were already on the freeway to Vengerberg, where a certain violet-eyed sorceress kept a summer home. He supposed he could have called ahead, but he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of cell phones—always forgot it whenever he went anywhere—and besides, Yennefer always appreciated a good surprise.

Geralt chased the sun east, watching as the horizon in front of him slowly went from indigo blue to purple to stunning gold as the sun rose. They crossed the border into Aedirn sometime mid-morning, and Geralt pulled over to a rest stop to refuel and grab something to eat.

The crow perched atop his shoulder as he entered the gas station, preening its feathers into place after being disturbed by the wind. The attendant stared openly, though Geralt was sure she must have seen weirder. He ignored it and grabbed a packet of sunflower seeds for the crow and some beef jerky for himself.

“Five sixty-eight,” the attendant said when he came up to the register, followed by, “Nice pet.”

The crow looked up from its preening and cawed loudly at her.

“He’s not a pet,” Geralt said mildly, then grabbed his food and left. While he stretched his legs out at a picnic table, the crow stretched its wings, flapping in circles above his head. Every so often, it would land briefly on the table and peck at the sunflower seeds Geralt had scattered there, before returning to its circling.

Geralt ate his jerky leisurely, and debated going back in for a soda.

After half an hour, Geralt felt they had delayed long enough. The crow was likely anxious to get going, and Geralt would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well. He got to his feet and whistled for the crow, which had steadily flown in greater and greater circles, and had since disappeared briefly from sight. Geralt wasn’t overly worried—until the crow didn’t show up. Geralt wished he knew what to call it—he would’ve felt stupid calling it ‘crow’.

He whistled again, louder and longer this time. Nothing happened for one second, two, and then Geralt heard it, and only thanks to his enhanced senses—frantic cawing and flapping wings among the trees behind the rest stop.

He broke out into a run, pushing aside the thin branches that snapped at his face as he fought his way through the undergrowth. The cawing was near, now, and Geralt heard tense voices accompanying.

“The cage—get the cage—!”

Geralt broke through the trees to a small clearing, stopping stunned at the sight in front of him. A silver woven net lay tangled in a heap on the ground in one corner, and opposite was a steel cage, door hanging open and waiting for an occupant. There were feathers scattered everywhere, and Geralt smelled traces of blood in the air.

And in the middle of the clearing was the source of the commotion—the crow flapped wildly above the heads of two men, talons extended and trying to scratch at their faces, while they flailed about with nets, not unlike the kind used to catch insects, though a bit bigger. A third man, older, wizened, stood apart, his eyes closed in concentration as he muttered something under his breath. Geralt’s breath caught in his throat.

Stregobor.

It had been centuries since Geralt had seen him, though he’d heard plenty about his latest exploits in the news—he was said to be making great strides in magical research, investigating transformative magic and its applications. Geralt had often tuned it out, but now it all made sense—if he wasn’t the one who had bound the crow shifter to a single form for some nefarious purpose, Geralt would eat his bike.

He wasted no time in instantly tackling Stregobor to the ground, disrupting the spell he was casting. The crow seemed to be holding its own against the two men with nets for the time being, though Geralt knew he needed to hurry—the scent of blood was growing stronger, the crow actively bleeding. He had the element of surprise, and didn’t waste it—he grappled with Stregobor, surprised at the strength the old mage still had even after so many centuries.

There was a sudden cry of pain behind him—Geralt thought it was human and not avian, but he couldn’t tell for sure. It distracted him momentarily, and that was all Stregobor needed to shout something in Elder that had Geralt flying backwards.

His back hit the ground hard, stunning him for half a second. Stregobor got to his feet, brushing the debris from his clothes—he still wore robes, even after all this time—and shot a bolt of light towards the crow.

It hit it in the wing, sending it tumbling out of the air in a heap of feathers. One of the men with a net—the only one still standing, the other writhing on the ground and clutching his bleeding face—slammed his net down onto the motionless crow with far too much force.

Geralt caught his breath and rolled to his feet, launching himself at the man that had the crow captive. He knocked him unconscious easily with a swift blow to the head, but that was as far as he got before Stregobor sent another pulse of magic towards him.

He dodged. It missed him by a hair, screaming past his head and exploding against a tree behind him.

“Stay out of this, witcher,” Stregobor warned, readying another spell. “This doesn’t have to concern you.”

“Let the shifter go and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Stregobor replied, and threw the spell at Geralt. Geralt dodged again, but too slowly—it clipped his arm. Hot, agonizing pain spread from the area.

If this turned into a fight between magic and witcher skills, there was no question who would win. Geralt made a snap decision, scooping the crow off the ground and darting out of the clearing, heading back towards the rest stop.

Stregobor was hopefully depleted after the many spells he had already cast—Geralt could only hope that he wasted the rest of his energy by chasing him through the brush. If they could just get to Yennefer’s…

Sure enough, as he sprinted towards his bike, Geralt heard Stregobor yelling curses behind him. Once or twice a bolt of magic went flying by, but it missed every time.

As Geralt broke through the tree line, he hoped that he had finally lost Stregobor. He straddled his bike and tucked the crow inside his jacket, hissing in apology when he jarred the crow’s injured wing. With a roar of the engine he peeled out onto the freeway, speeding east to Vengerberg.

Though there was nobody pursuing them, Geralt still felt hunted as he pulled his bike into Yennefer’s expansive driveway. He all but ran to her door, pounding urgently on it, regretting not calling ahead so that she knew to expect them.

Luckily, she answered only moments later. “Do you have wards up?” was the first thing Geralt asked.

“Yes. Do you know how alarming it is for that to be the first thing you say after not seeing each other for months?” Yennefer asked, beckoning him in.

“Have to be sure,” Geralt grunted. “Got a problem, and I don’t know if I was followed.”

“Would it kill you to bring flowers or wine instead of a problem every time you come by?” Yennefer sighed. “What is it?”

Geralt unzipped his jacket and carefully extracted the crow. It was no longer unconscious, but drowsy would be an understatement—it looked on the verge of a coma, eyes half-closed and breathing shallow. A few loose feathers drifted to the ground.

“Pest Services might be more apt,” Yennefer started to say, but paused when the silver chain caught her eye. “Ah. Binding spell? Friend of yours?”

“No. I’m for hire,” Geralt said, conveniently leaving out the part where he’d received no such payment. “It’s a shifter. Wanted by Stregobor—probably for research.”

The skin around Yennefer’s eyes tightened ever so slightly—he dared to call it concern for the shifter—and she gritted her teeth—and that he knew was deep-rooted hatred for Stregobor.

“Bring him to my workroom.”

He followed her upstairs, where she kept most of her magical equipment. With a wave of her hand, she cleared the books and various sundries from the worktable against the wall, and indicated for Geralt to lay the crow down on it. He did so carefully, mindful of its injuries, and hesitantly stepped back. Yennefer didn’t appreciate hovering, but he couldn’t fight back his protective instincts that had been roaring ever since the fight.

Yennefer leaned over the crow, inspecting. Her hands went to the chain, and Geralt’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t,” he warned, stepping forward and reaching out as if to physically stop her.

“I know,” she snapped back. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen a binding spell or two in my time, Geralt.” But she showed demonstrably more care in handling the crow, then, lest he become alarmed again.

She moved on to inspecting the crow’s wing, then, frowning at what she saw. “This was a magical injury, yes?”

“Yes. One of Stregobor’s spells—it was a bolt of light, caught it in the wing.”

“Well, lucky for it, the damage is physical only, from what I can tell. Stregobor likely meant to stun it only. Hence the lifelessness. It’ll wear off within the hour.”

Geralt let out a sigh of relief at hearing the diagnosis. Physical injuries, those he knew what to expect, how to deal with them. Now what worried him most was the binding spell.

“And the chain? Can you remove it without hurting it?”

Yennefer pursed her lips. “No. It’s an extremely strong bond—the sort not taken as a trifle. Forging a connection like this without the shifter’s consent…” She shook her head. “It’s a violation of the worst sort, Geralt.”

Geralt’s heart thudded in his chest. He wet his lips. “So what do we do?” He gazed at the poor crow, looking so small and hopeless where it lay. He couldn’t put words to his horror—being bound body and soul, and to Stregobor, no less.

“There are… theories, things I’ve read, but you have to understand,” Yennefer said, pinning his gaze, “I don’t suggest what I’m about to lightly.”

A pit formed in Geralt’s stomach. “What is it?” It couldn’t be worse than the binding spell, could it?

“If we formed another bond, one even stronger than this, it would give us room to throw off the old one. But the strength required… it would be ironclad, unbreakable. The shifter would spend the rest of its very long life bound to us.”

Even now, some eight hundred years later, Geralt thought back to the djinn in Rinde, to the connection that had once bound their destinies together, and he knew she was remembering it too. “Yen…” he trailed off. How did he put it to words? How did he express his understanding, acknowledge that she was trying to help, while warning her of doing the same thing she’d opposed so strongly then?

But then, looking into her eyes and seeing the haunted look there, he knew that he didn’t have to. She had already had this conversation with herself, and, seeing no other option, had accepted her role as becoming exactly what she hated.

A weak croak caught their attention. Geralt looked over and saw that the crow was looking slightly more lively—it had managed to sit up, at least, though it still looked bedraggled and unsteady. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, and received a delayed nod. Then a thought struck him. “Yen, can you…?”

“Read his thoughts? I would, but they’re too muddled. I don’t know if it’s the result of the spell or if it’s always like this in animal form. I’ve never met a shifter personally, and gods know there’s hardly any literature on them.”

The crow got shakily to its feet, and before either Geralt or Yennefer could stop it, it flew up to perch on Geralt’s shoulder, nuzzling in close to his neck. He instinctively put a hand up to cradle it in place—the last thing it needed was to fall off.

“Well, then? Clearly it’s gotten attached,” Yennefer said, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t—I don’t know.” How could he make this decision? It was too big, too important. He held the shifter’s life in his hands, and the knowledge terrified him.

The crow nipped him on the ear. “Ow,” Geralt complained, but was drowned out by the crow cawing in his ear. He suddenly felt very foolish indeed—the crow had heard them discussing it, must have, and they hadn’t even considered asking it its opinion of the matter. “Hm. I’m sorry that we can’t give you a better option.”

The crow cawed again, softer, and nibbled gently at his ear. It’s alright, it seemed to be saying, or perhaps I understand.

“It’s your decision,” Yennefer said. “I can bind you to us—permanently—in order to break the bond with Stregobor. Or, if you’d rather, you can live out your days here, and I give you my word that no harm will you come to you—though the bond would remain.”

The crow rattled in disgust. It nipped gently once more at Geralt’s ear, then flapped-hopped over to Yennefer’s shoulder, where it began preening her hair. Geralt couldn’t believe that she would allow it, but she made no move to dislodge the crow.

“Is that a yes?” he asked nervously, anticipation curdling in his stomach. The crow stopped its preening, looked directly at Geralt, and bobbed its head up and down neatly.

“Alright,” Yennefer said softly.

They cleared out all the furniture for the ritual that would replace the bond. The crow watched them, perched atop the table, until they had to move that too, and then it clung to Geralt’s shoulder as he worked. Finally, the room was clear, and Yennefer drew a large chalk circle on the floor.

Geralt took his designated seat warily, nerves making his skin prickle. Yennefer sat opposite him, legs crossed, while the crow was sat in between. Yennefer dimmed the lights and closed her eyes—he copied her, relying on his other senses.

He smelled smoke as Yennefer lit the bundle of herbs she’d gathered, heard the soft susurrus of the crow’s feathers as it shifted. As she began to chant, he felt the characteristic tingle of magical energy settling over him like a second skin—the bonding had started.

Yennefer’s chanting grew steadily louder, and behind his eyelids Geralt saw the light of the candles flare even brighter. The crow’s fidgeting grew wilder, and little croaks began to make their way out of its throat.

Geralt hoped it wasn’t hurting—and if it was, he hoped it would be over soon.

He himself was in no pain at all, besides the discomfort that came with all magic cast on him. He gritted his teeth and bore it, until all at once it stopped—the candles went out, Yennefer gasped once, and the silver chain around the crow’s leg fell to the floor with a soft clink.

Geralt’s eyes flew open, and where the crow had been only moments before, there was now a pair of legs—bare—and when Geralt followed them upwards, there was an entire man—also bare. Geralt blinked a few times, mind blank, before averting his gaze.

“Well,” the shifter said, smacking his lips. “That was unpleasant.” And Geralt watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, too quickly for Geralt to catch him.

“He’ll be fine,” Yennefer said, getting to her feet. She swayed a little as she stood, and Geralt ached to steady her—something she would never accept. “The bonding took a lot out of all of us—him most of all.”

Geralt hummed, gathering up the shifter in his arms. He weighed more than he looked—or perhaps Geralt was simply used to his weight as a crow. While Yennefer put her things back in order, Geralt carried the shifter to the guest room, tucking him into bed and feeling strangely fond as he did so.

“It’s the bond,” Yennefer explained, leaning in the doorway and watching the whole affair. She ambled over to the bed and sat down next to the shifter, reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Can you feel it?”

He could, he realized, when he reached deep inside. Just beside the djinn’s magic that tied him to Yennefer, he felt a fledgling something, a fluttering newness that nipped and tugged at his breastbone.

“That’s him?” Geralt asked, though he didn’t need the confirmation—he knew it as surely as he knew himself.

Yennefer nodded, dropping her arm and standing up. “Leave him to his rest. I imagine he’ll need some time to acclimate to the bond—we all will, for that matter.”

Though Geralt wanted nothing more than to stay and study the shifter, watch over him until he woke, he followed Yennefer out of the room, shutting the door softly so as not to disturb him.

The shifter woke some hours later, after Geralt and Yennefer had eaten a late lunch and were debating if it would be worth eating dinner. The shifter stumbled down the stairs, interrupting their discussion, and said, quite plainly, “Are we talking dinner? I’m starving.”

“You’re up,” Yennefer replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” the shifter—Geralt really needed to ask his name—answered. “Sunflower seeds are nice and all, but really, nothing compares to a good hot meal.”

He was wrapped in the bedsheet, Geralt realized suddenly. Of course—he had no clothes. It didn’t seem to overly bother him, though, as he crossed the room and promptly deposited himself on Geralt’s lap, wiggling a bit to get comfortable. Geralt’s hands came up automatically to wrap around his waist.

“And your wing?” Yennefer asked.

“Oh, good as new!” the shifter replied cheerily, untangling his arm from the bedsheet and wiggling it in demonstration. “Healed right up as soon as that awful binding spell was gone.” He turned to look at Geralt. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to help me—I know it was a lot of trouble.”

“It’s alright,” Geralt answered. “I wouldn’t leave you to Stregobor.”

The shifter shuddered. Geralt held him a bit tighter. “Ugh. He caught me unaware—normally I’m careful, but this very handsome man bought me a drink, and then another, and then before I knew it I was being manhandled into the back of a car. And I thought, well, can’t be manhandled if I’m not a man, but then he had that awful chain…”

“You’re not the first to fall victim to him. Though binding a shifter to him is a new low,” Yennefer said darkly.

Guilt tightened in Geralt’s gut. It was different, what they had done—but was it really? It was still a bond the shifter had been forced into. He moved the shifter off his lap, ignoring the hurt look that he flashed him. “Need to go for a walk,” Geralt grunted, and headed for the door.

“Don’t mind him,” he heard Yennefer say behind him. “Let him clear his head and then he’ll be back. In the meantime—what do you say to pasta?”

The door shut heavily behind Geralt, cutting off their voices, giving him room to think. The bond still pulsed heartily in his chest, but like this, it was muted enough for him to catch his breath.

How was the shifter so blasé about it? Surely he understood the fact that he was now permanently bound to two strangers?

Geralt jammed his hands in his pockets and started to walk, focusing only on his feet hitting the ground and the evening calls of the bird around him.

By the time his thoughts had settled and he’d made his way back to the house, the sun was setting, and a deep tiredness was settling into his bones. The early morning and excitement of the day were catching up with him.

He could hear Yennefer and the shifter inside, chatting, and hesitated on the doorstep. He suddenly felt as if he were intruding—what right did he have to storm off in the middle of a conversation and expect them to welcome him back seamlessly? Clearly they were getting along just fine without him.

The door opened suddenly and a gust of wind at his back urged him inside. Yennefer. He let her guide him to the kitchen, where the shifter stood washing dishes at the sink and she sat on the counter. “Ah, you’re back!” the shifter said, setting down the plate it was washing.

“Jaskier was just telling me about your trip here. It sounded quite exciting,” Yennefer teased.

“I like a bit of adventure, but I could do without the almost-kidnapping,” Jaskier said, leaning in closer to Geralt. “Lucky I had you there, I suppose.”

“Hm.” Geralt hesitantly lifted an arm, and Jaskier wasted no time in burrowing into his side. “Lucky.”

“And lucky you have such wonderful friends as Yennefer,” Jaskier continued, looking meaningfully at Yennefer. She raised an eyebrow, but hopped off the counter and sidled closer. Geralt let her sink into his side too, holding them both tightly, and felt the thrumming bond inside of him settle in contentment at having them close.

Lucky indeed.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskefer #yenralt #yenskier #yennskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt/jaskier/yennefer #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #geralt #jaskier #yennefer

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

Fools in Love

Summary: He can explain how String Theory works. He can figure out Riemann Hypothesis. He can recite all the numbers of pi until he’s blue in the face. Yet somehow, Spencer Reid can’t figure out what to do for his first first anniversary.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer Reid is a self-deprecating mf, Jane Austen quotes? But there’s a happy ending

Word Count: 3128

Fools in Love

He scratches the back of neck, a nervous habit that he’s sure makes him look weak. He wants to find the perfect recipe to make a wonderful meal for Y/N. It’s his first first anniversary so Spencer’s completely lost as to what to do. Y/N deserves the most romantic dinner, especially considering how much chaos he causes. It must be a lot to put up with him, Spencer thinks. He’s even more useless when it comes to love than when it comes to cooking. While he might not be a fan of technology, given he has the Thai place down the street from his apartment on speed dial. She doesn’t deserve some take out Thai with paper plates. But he’s a scientist, a well-known and well-educated scientist who is completely failing at planning his first anniversary.

It was useless. Completely and utterly useless, Spencer thought to himself as he ran his fingers across the various titles of cookbooks. Some featured complex dishes from Korea and others were 30 minute meals of the vaguely Midwest variety. Spencer never in his entire 33 years of living felt so out of place in a library. He’s so at home in between the stacks of books, he finds the comforting words of long dead authors and intricate mathematical theories a second home. However, it seems that Spencer Reid has found the most intimidating section of the library: cooking.

And what do academics do when they are at a crossroad? Well, they call in the experts. The love expert came in the shape of Agent Derek Morgan himself. This idea just might be the most brilliant thought Spencer’s had or the dumbest, but Y/N is worth it.

Okay, maybe it was a mistake to come to Derek, Spencer thinks as he sits in front of his friend, a coffee in his hand and an expression of pure fear on his face.

“You want me to, what?” Spencer asks, shocked at Derek’s suggestive advice.

“Lie in bed naked, call Y/N on the phone and make something up. You’ll be waiting in bed and then BAM! Anniversary sex,” Derek says, his eyebrows wagging as he sips his coffee.

“Are you messing with me, Morgan?” Spencer says, his face pale from the very thought of lounging in bed naked, waiting for Y/N to come over to his apartment.

“Why not, I’m sure it would get you laid,” Derek reasons. Get me laid? Spencer and Y/N don’t get laid, he thinks. They do have sex, but it’s not getting laid. It’s more romantic and loving than just whatever Derek suggests.

God, he can’t tell Derek that, he’d never live it down.

“You have slept with Y/N, right?” Derek asks, suddenly nervous that he touched a nerve with his friend. As much as he likes to tease, Spencer knows that Derek doesn’t mean any harm, hence why he’s the first person he thought to come to.

“We prefer to call it making love,” Spencer says, pretending to be very interested in his chocolate donut and trying to fight off the blush that rises to his cheeks. Even a year into their relationship, Spencer still gets butterflies at thinking about Y/N like that.

“So you want this to be more romantic than just fucking, because you’ve done it for a year?” Derek proposes as simply as if he’s talking about a case. Not that talking about serial victims is anymore normal or weirder than the current conversation.

“Morgan and you please stop talking about Y/N and sex in the same sentence?” Spencer says through gritted teeth.

“Reid, kid. I’m just busting your chops, I know who you feel about Y/N. When you two are in the same room, it’s like there’s no one else in the world. And it’s kinda hard to get your mind to focus on one thing, but Y/N does that,”

“I know,” Spencer says. “I can’t mess this up Derek. I can’t give another person a reason to leave me,”

“Y/N won’t leave because you can’t plan a terrible anniversary dinner,” Derek says comfortingly.

“I checked out 7 cookbooks, Morgan. 7, and I read them on the metro home. It’s useless, I’m useless,” Spencer laments.

He looks up to try to read Derek’s expression. The last thing he’d want to see on his face is pity or worse laughter. No, Spencer. Derek is your best friend. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. Spencer feels almost guilty for thinking that Derek would laugh at him, while he might like to tease him, especially about his lovelife, they trust each other inexplicably. What’s written on Derek’s face is not pity or ridicule, it’s a smile. A smile not for Spencer, but for the colorful woman walking towards their table.

“You told Garcia?” Spencer groans, but scooting over so Penelope would have a spot to sit with them.

“Of course I told Garcia, kid. You know better than anyone that we can’t keep anything secret,” Derek explains, leaning in to kiss Garcia’s hand.

“Spencer Reid! I can’t believe you,” Garcia says, smacking Spencer’s arm lightly.

“Garcia!” Spencer shouts, clutching his coffee and hunching down in his seat to avoid being hit by the tech goddess with her hard rings on her surprisingly strong hands.

“Don’t Garcia me, Reid. You need me, whether or not you realize it or not. I’m irreplaceable,” she tells him, grabbing a pink notebook and a fluffy green pen from her bag.

Spencer nods in understanding, as much as he hates it, he knows that he needs help. It’s just a hard pill to swallow when help comes in the form of Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, perhaps the two people on Earth who are the most in love.

“I know I need you guys,” Spencer says, looking from Garcia to Derek, half expecting them to tell him to order some terrifying sex toy from a scretchy store on the edge of town or something equally horrifying.

“What’s something that she likes? You know like a special thing that Y/N would never think about getting herself” Garcia asks, making notes with the fluffy when that bounces as she writes.

“She likes to read,” Spencer suggests, thinking about the first date that they had. They talked for hours about their favorite books and ended up getting booted from the library for overstaying their welcome. Y/N found it quite endearing that The Little Prince is Spencer’s while her is anything and everything by Jane Austen. He thinks back to her eyes gleamed when talking about the book, or how passionate she got when she argued that Mr Knightley and Emma were soulmates.

“Okay, that’s a start Spencer. Really good,” Garcia says, trying to boost her friend’s confidence.

“What else?” Derek asks, thinking about the times when he and Y/N hang out with Spencer and Penelope.

“Fret not, Boy Wonder,” Garcia says, softly patting Spencer’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of this,” she finishes as she reaches into her bag, that seems to have a never ending bottom, and pulls out a laptop.

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“So Garcia and Morgan took over your anniversary plans and basically just made it how they’d want to spend their anniversary?” JJ offers, as she hands Spencer a beer from her refrigerator and sits back down at her kitchen table.

Spencer takes a swig of his beer and shrugs his shoulders, thinking about how wrong this whole anniversary dinner has gone.

“I just wanted this to be special, JJ. I know it’s only been a year, but Y/N is it for me. God, she was it for me on the third date,” Spencer confesses.

“I know, Spence. I’ve never seen you this happy. Happiness looks good on you,” JJ tells him.

“Y/N makes me happy, she puts up with me, so the least I can do is make this perfect for her,”

“Spence, don’t sell yourself short,” JJ says, “You’re a kind man and a wonderful boyfriend, you’re both lucky to have each other,”

“Thank you, JJ, but Y/N is the better person in this relationship. That’s why this needs to be perfect,” Spencer explains, his self doubt still littering his mind.

“What about a baseball game? You can pay for a message to pop up on the Jumbotron. Like Happy Anniversary, Y/N,” JJ suggests, and Spencer really can’t tell if JJ is joking. She can’t possibly think that Y/N and he would have a romantic anniversary with the threat of getting pelted in the face with a baseball.

“Sports games are not our forte, JJ. I honestly can’t tell who’d hate sitting in the sun for hours with angry sports fans,” Spencer adds.

“Okay so no sports, I should have figured, Spence,” JJ winks knowingly. “How about this, think about somewhere that’s special to you two. Somewhere that makes you think of her,”

“The thing is JJ, everyplace we’ve been together makes me think of her. The elevator when she first kissed me, the movie theater we always go to on Saturday nights, even the sidewalk outside my apartment building. Everything makes me think of her because she’s my everything,” Spencer says, hiding his discomfort at the conversation.

“Spence, I think that anything you plan, will be wonderful. Have a little trust in yourself for once, Y/N is already head over heels in love with you, so I doubt that she’d really care where you go or what you do,” JJ advises, clearing up the dirty dishes from their Friday night pizza dinner with the boys.

“I’m going to go JJ, thanks for talking me out of my head. If I took Morgan’s advice, I’d probably end up with a restraining order,” Spencer jokes, putting his jacket on and saying goodbye to his friend.

“You think you need an Uber?” JJ asks, but immediately finds amusement from Spencer’s disgust at the idea of getting into an Uber.

“Germs and technology sound like a nightmare, JJ. And I’m not going to remind you of the statistics regarding missing persons and those rideshare apps-” Spencer offers, but is cut off by JJ’s pretend annoyance.

“Remind me to send Y/N combat pay, you know maybe she is a saint for putting up with you,” JJ teases.

He walks out into the chill of the night, recounting the advice his friends gave him. Derek and Penelope’s plan was a little outlandish, a little too much for Spencer and Y/N. JJ, who Spencer knows means well, only served to remind him of how hard it must be with him. His steps are slow and languid, but his mind anything but.

One step, you’re probably just a charity case that Y/N decided to save.

Two steps, why on Earth would a woman like her even look at a man like you.

Three steps, you’re so pathetic that you can’t even plan a dinner for her. She’s too good for Spencer, you’ll ruin her.

Everyone who you love leaves you or dies, anyway.

It’s that thought, not the thought of being alone, but the thought that he deserves to be alone that sends the tears down his cheeks.

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Somehow, someway, Spencer made it back to his apartment. It never felt so dark, so unlike home. Maybe he just didn’t never realized that these walls aren’t home without Y/N. He really should try to get to sleep, but he’d rather fend off sleep with the endless supply of coffee than have to face a night alone in the cold bed.

Just as Spencer makes his way to prepare a cup of coffee, he hears a distant jiggle of keys and the door knob rattle. And in comes Y/N, as fresh as the cup of coffee brewing and as beautiful as ever.

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Y/N tells him, dropping the bags on the floor. She moves over to him like a light breeze. All he wants is to welcome her embrace. He wants to scoop her up and carry her far away from the monsters that lie in wake. He feels an urge to be her protector, but how can be her protector when what he really wants is to be protected.

“Y/N, what are you doing here, it’s so late,” Spencer says, praying that his voice doesn’t let go. He knows it’s futile, one look from Y/N, her palm to his cheek or even worse a chaste kiss on his forehead, Spencer would not be able to think. What is a genius without his mind?

“I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, Spence, I just missed you too much,” Y/N says, her voice a prayer that spins around in Spencer’s brain, searching for refuge in his heart.

“You really missed me?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe her beyond belief. Y/N’s frown searches for an answer in Spencer’s distant expression. Even though they stand there with the kitchen light casting shadows touching as much skin as they can reach, Spencer is a million miles away.

“Of course I missed you, baby. And I just had to give you one of your gifts tonight. I just couldn’t wait to see your face,” Y/N says, practically bouncing as she bounds off to get the package for Spencer.

“So this is only the first part, and stay with me, I know how much you hate technology, but I think you’ll make an excuse for this,” She tells him, handing him a heavy cube shaped package. It’s decorated in Y/N’s handwritten flowers and hearts, and a cute doodle of who Spencer can only assume is them. His girlfriend may not be artistic. But she’s the artist who paints the stars in Spencer’s night sky. She’s the tailor who sewed him back up when he was broken. She’s the architect who has the key and blueprint to his heart.

Spencer opens the gift, his hands shaky and unsure. He’s terrified that Y/N can see right though him. He reveals the present. It’s a small wooden box with a red wooden heart that looks like it’s supposed to be pixelated. There’s a blank space on the top, that Spencer supposes is a screen.

“You gotta plug it in, Spence. So the messages can pop up. When you're far away from me saving the world, I can type a message from my phone and it’ll appear on your box,” she explains. Spencer looks up at her trying to search for what he did to get this lucky.

“Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Spencer tells her, placing a kiss against her forehead. It’s the kind of kisses that tell you so much more. It’s the kind of kiss you give when you know there’s more where that one came from. It’s safe and warm and everything good about this world.

“I gotta make sure you won’t forget me when you go traipsing all over the country. A hot genius like you only comes around so often. I’m sure you got loads of attractive people throwing themselves at you, Spence,” she says with a wink.

“Hot genius?” Spencer repeats half dumbfounded and half joking.

“Yup, I gotta make sure they know that you’re spoken for,”

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I still don’t know what I did to ever deserve you,” Spencer says, as the tears and the fears of not being good enough bubble to the surface.

“Spencer, baby. You’re shaking. What’s the matter? Huh,” she says softly, brushing her hand over Spencer’s head in a comforting and loving gesture.

Spencer leans into her, his head pressed into her neck. He can hear her heartbeat and he can smell her perfume. He wants to get lost in her. Get lost in the feeling of total and complete love.

“I just wanted this to be perfect, Y/N. For you- you deserve so much more than I can give. It must be so hard dating me. I know that I’m difficult to love sometimes,” Spencer murmurs, his tears pouring down his cheeks and spilling like his darkest thoughts onto Y/N’s shirt.

“Spencer, you make my life so much brighter. So much fuller. I know that you got a lot going on up in that mind of yours and it must be kinda scary. It must be hard always being the guy people expect answers from. But I got you, sweetheart. And I’m not letting go,” Y/N tells him the words falling from lips like a psalm and taking on a new life in Spencer’s heart.

“Thank you, Y/N. I really wanted this to be the best anniversary. I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Spencer apologizes as he peppers light, feathery kisses along her collarbone and up to her eyes.

“Well you’re my mess, Spencer. Let’s be honest, I’d be completely happy to spend our anniversary anywhere with you. Except maybe sports games, that sounds like torture for both of us,” Y/N laughs and Spencer can’t get over how she practically glows in the kitchen light. It could be that his mind is foggy with love, but Spencer hopes that he never grows out of this blissful feeling.

“Well it’s a good thing we’ll have many more to make up for this one,” Spencer says, letting himself get dragged to the large fluffy sofa.

“Oh no, Mister. The next 50 anniversaries have to try to top this one,” Y/N tells him and Spencer’s heart skips and flutters at the thought of having another 49 anniversaries with Y/N by his side.

“I doubt that 50 will be enough, Y/N”

“As long as you’ll allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Y/N says, cuddling so close to Spencer that she can’t see where her limbs start and Spencer’s end.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” Spencer says running his spidery fingers down Y/N’s side much to her delight.

“Ooh are you trying out some Jane Austen foreplay? Because that’s the way to make my panties drop,” Y/N says suggestively as she rubs her hand over Spencer’s chest and rests it on his neck.

“Maybe tomorrow, I just really want to hold you close right now, Y/N.” Spencer says, sweetly kissing along her temple exciting a bout of giggles from the two of them.

Spencer very well might be useless when it comes to love, but he was eager to learn that he’s worthy of love from his love expert.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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withoneheadlight · 3 years

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ok i saw this cap of zoë kravitz in hf and she's got such a dreamy expression, she looks so deeply self-absorbed and infatuated by whatever she's imagining and those lines. and i couldn't stop picturing billy exactly like that for days so,

There’s a pretty unusual sound coming off the house when Max comes back home, that summer afternoon.

Full volume. Walls shaking. And she quietly walks to the source of the sound, holding back her breath right in front of Billy's room because, there's this second sound? Stranger and way more unsettling and Max's not sure-sure at first but then Steve Perry’s voice takes off and Billy’s follows it and then he's like, singing along and. Well. Max did know Billy liked Journey but not like, their 'stuff for pussies' but uhm, he does, apparently. Rasps his voice all the way through ‘Faithfully’. Kind of, sighs. Longingly? When it ends? But pfff, ok, big brothers are weird. Definitely weirder after being possessed and then kind of resurrected. Even if it's in a good-weird way but, whatever. So Max's just about to sneak to her room, dutifully rolling her eyes, steps muffled by the first chords of 'Edge of the blade' when―

Click. Click. Billy stops the tape. Click. Takes it out. Tap. Tap. Click. Puts on― Billy puts. On,

Heaven.

Bryan Adams’ Heaven.

And Max―

Being a younger sister is a meticulous kind of full-time, private detective job. You gotta learn how the person you’ve been watching so carefully for years and years works. Hafta develop some sort of―sense about your target. And Billy’s been—un-Billy-like? These past two months. Smiling more. Telling more jokes. Playing ‘You shook me all night long’ in a loop on their drive to school and back, not complaining at all but even joining when’s Max who can’t help but sing along so.

So. She retraces her steps. Knocks. Takes the distracted grunt she gets as a ‘Yeahyeah, c’mon in c’mon in’ and,

Creak. Creak. ‘―baby you’re all that I want’

“Billy?”

Billy’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. Radio close to his knees. Cassettes scattered everywhere. Piles and piles of breakwater surrounding Billy’s old, rusty beacon of sound. He’s reading through the song-list of one of the tapes, a smoke locked on the corner of his mouth, bouncing up and down with every little, absent suck he takes, and he looks. He looks―

Self-absorbed and even. Relaxed. Happy. Like whatever he’s thinking about right now is actually carrying his thoughts away to fucking heaven.

“Ehh”

“Uh-hu?”

‘When you’re lying here in my arms!’

“Billy are you. What―” ‘I'm findin' it hard to believe. We're in heaven’ “What are you doing?”

But there’s this orbit around the sun and then there’s whatever one Billy's been spinning along with the last couple of months so he completely ignores her question. Shakes the tape on his left hand. Picks another one from the pile on his right. Asks her.

“Is Billy Ocean too much? ‘Cause I think it’s too much. But it kind of fits into what I'm trying to say so” he says, shrugs, looking up at Max and waiting for the answer of what she realizes was not really a question. Not at all. So she does her little sister job and just, nods “Right. That’s good. I think it’ll slide just nicely into Bruce Springsteen and―”

“Billy” Max insists, waiting for the charm of the third time to work. It doesn’t. Not really. But keeps Billy's eyes on her long enough to squeeze an “A mixtape?” And, uh. That’s what gets it on. The charm “Are you making a mixtape?”

“Uh?”

And it’s like Max just shook Billy out of a daydream. Ash plopping down from his cigarette as his lips try but can’t purse and Max― she’s good. She’s stellar at this detective thing. Recognizes an opening the moment she sees it, right there in front of her, frozen in the middle of shaking Billy Ocean and Bruce Springsteen in the air right before cocktailing them together. Shaken, not stirred, please. Max’s upgraded to James Bond-level just right now.

“You’re making a mixtape for someone”

“Oh-nonoMaxi―”

“But you didn’t have those tapes before. Not even in your secret stash”

“How do yo―?”

“Holy. ShIT. You’ve been listening to somebody else’s music” This is. Oh, God. This. Is. GOLD. Max gotta take a moment. Blink. Breathe. Process. Her hands move by themselves, palms spread toward Billy in a wait-a-minute kind of gesture except. Max’s gonna need way more than a minute for this “You’ve accepted a music recommendation”

“Maaaaax”

“Gosh, you’ve even listened to the tapes enough to. Make―”

“Max!”

“I just can’t believe it”

And Max was glad. Well. As glad as one can be. Bunch weeks ago. Her mom and Neil out for the day. Coming back home a little earlier than she usually does to hear those ugh. Those other noises. Happy screams. Again. After months and months of Billy being basically alone except for her and the party and Steve. And Max’s so glad, of course she is. But she’s also a little sister. And all this investigation work has a high, rightful purpose.

Make her big brother’s life a living. Hell.

“Oh my god, you must be so gone!” Max brings her hands to her mouth. Takes a deep, deep breath that’s more a poorly restrained giggle. Shoots her index at him “Is it Bon Jovi? What I’m seeing right there? Goddam, Billy are you in lo―”

Bam.

Bam. Bam!

The front door.

What a way to spoil the fun. Max doesn’t have time for this. She’s working.

“BILLY?” comes a voice from the other side “Billy are you in there?”

Steve.

Oh.

What a way to make the fun a hundred times better.

Bam.Bam.Bam!

She’s starting to move to get to the door, sinsonging “Well, I guess Steve’s gonna find out you’re so stupid in love you’re willingly listening to―” when she realizes Billy’s eyes have widened and he’s jerkingly trying to unfreeze, he’s mumbling something in around his already extinguished cigarette in the ways of “Can’t” and “Find out” and “Surprise” and “Fucking help me!” While literally trying to shove the huge mass of tapes under his bed, his tone like hurryhurryhurry!, like he would start gagging and throwing his lungs out at any given minute, so nervous he looks.

So Max doesn’t go for the door. Yet. She basks in the enjoyment.

“Oh, is it a secret romance or something?” She sighs happily, leaning against the doorframe instead. “‘Cause you look pretty worried”

Steve’s banging the door now, voice wavering a little as he asks-shouts “Billy? Billy answer me! Hey, bab―Are you ok?”

“Max, please” Billy begs. Begs. Crawling over to where a Madonna’s Like a virgin is laying with the tape looping slightly out “He really can’t find out”

“What? That you’re in lo-o-oh-oh-OH―”

Billy stops at the tone, right there on his knees. Spits his forgotten cig to the side. And in the instant it seems to take him to make up his mind they both can hear Steve shout “Ok. I know you’re in there!. I’m coming in now!!”

“Fuck! Yeah. I am. Ok?” he looks like he just realized he’s tripped. Blushes. “Making it, I mean”

BAM!

And Ohhhhhhh.

Zero-fucking-zero-fucking-seven.

“Steve,” Max gasps. Because. Hear it makes it like. Easier. To process “You. And Steve”

B A M!

“Yeah, Max, Yeah. And this is a fucking surprise and he’s gonna―”

‘I've been waitin' for so long. For somethin' to arrive. For love to come along’

Ok. Oh. Okok.

“Door!” Max hastens him.

“What?”

“You. Door. Run!” She commands, and Billy― sometimes Max can’t honestly understand how he's got the grades he's got, because Billy blinks, looks clueless “C’mon slow ass. Hurry! I’ll hide all this shit”

And Billy finally gets it. Nods. Slow. Then fast. Stumbles up. Literally runs, to get to the door.

Max still gets to hear his labored “Fuck, pretty boy. “That was really hardcore of you. That's how bad you wanted to see me?” And Steve's own breathless “Really?” Before pushing Billy's room door close with her back, and kneeling on the floor to check for stray, incriminating cassettes.

Pretty boy. Maybe Max isn't as clever as she thought she is. Or hasn’t been doing her job right, clearly.

It's when she’s making ‘It’s a kind of magic’ disappear into the rest of the pile that she lays eyes on it. The case. The J-card written almost all the way down to the B-side already. A mixture of songs Billy's heard so many times there are parts where his tapes screech, and others she'd bet her life he wouldn’t have deigned to listen to. Not ever. Definitely not because―no, for, somebody. Bowie and Cher and Cindy Lauper and Bob Seger right next to Metallica and Guns n' Roses and Meatloaf and― there. There. Almost hidden in the back of the spine. A note. A tiny, thin-lettered thing Max really, really shouldn't be reading but―

‘Thanks for driving me back.

Love. Billy’

But. That's what little sisters do too, she guesses. Intrude. Annoy. Snoop. Feel this sudden rush of relief. Of happiness. When Billy laughs softly, on the other side of the door. When Steve laughs back. Maybe a tear. Or two. But just maybe. She’s really good at this little sister thing, after all.

Hopes for stellar.

or: that post s3 where steve lets a camaro-less billy drive him around in his own car "really? again, hargrove?" almost every single day, for months, after he comes back, because "you’re gonna perpetually stick yourself to my ass at least let me do the one thing that frikin’ calms me down" which results in steve resigning himself to deejaying in the shotgun even if "jesus, what's that shit, harrington?" "my car, my rules, sweetheart" which results in billy developing a ‘songs steve harrington is in love with’ mental playlist, realizing he’s probably a little bit in love with the way he loves them and, possibly, a little much love with steve and then stealing steve's tapes one day and,

making a mixtape about it.

(the first of a whole lot, of love letters)

#harringrove #d+mb sh+t i write #but #i had fun!#writing max bc she's my fav <3<3<#and also #dumbstrucklovestruck billy? MY FAV TKVM #also #mixtaping IS an art #xharringrove

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Amoreena | chapter twelve

Chapter Twelve

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: spencers mom has a bad day at the doctor's and so spencer thinks he's going to have a bad day too but he ends up having the best day of his entire life.

talk of pregnancy, celebratory sex, oral (female receiving), grinding, no penetration, serious deep talks after sex about their most depressive episodes, sharing trauma and making sure they know the other is loved regardless of what goes on in their mind. it's a rough one so read with caution

word count: 4.5K

from the beginning <3

He was up before Amoreena, awaking for the second time that morning to the sound of his alarm, kissing Y/N on the forehead before leaving their bed, she simply laid there and watched him get ready.

Most of his clothes were here now, every time he was near his apartment he brought more and more things home with him. Because that wasn’t his home, it hadn’t been for a long time, even when he lived there it was just a trove of books and a bed he slept on occasionally.

They were probably going to move all his stuff over in the summer, after the second wedding… after the girls meet Taylor, and hopefully when Y/N’s actually pregnant and not too sick or tired to help.

“Come here,” she whispers before he can slip out of the room, “kiss your wife.”

He can’t help but smile as he bounds towards the bed, jumping in and wrapping her up in his arms. He smothers her face in kisses, making her laugh, still half asleep as she let him manhandle her.

“I love you,” he reminded her.

“We love you too,” she replied with a smile, answering for Amoreena even though she was still asleep down the hall, “don’t wake her up yet, she needs all her rest for today.”

“I’ll be quiet,” he responds with a smile, kissing her again before he finally gets out of the bed, if not he would have stayed there forever.

He tiptoes down the hall and into Amoreena’s room, kissing her sweet little forehead lightly before exiting just as quietly. It was like he was never there.

He snuck down the stairs quietly, locked the door behind himself on the way out, and took off down the driveway in his old blue Volvo amazon, paying extra attention to the path for any kitties or Rufus out on their morning strolls.

It didn’t take long for a happy day to go sour when he was in a doctor's office with his mom. Those were the worst places he could go with her, especially on a bad day. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she really didn’t like hospitals or government buildings, even lawyers' offices stressed her out.

Today she was convinced he wasn’t really her son, Spencer, and that he was actually leading her to be a government experiment. It was hard to see her struggle, especially on a day they needed to ask her serious questions while she sat still. It was the fact she had to stay awake for 24 hours that triggered the episode, the EEG requiring her mind to be deprived of sleep. It was rough, she barely knew him. They wouldn’t have the test results for a while but he already knew it wasn’t good.

He dropped her back off at the home as quickly as he could, not able to deal with the verbal abuse any longer, he didn’t even say goodbye. The woman he dropped off was his mother on the outside but not on the inside today. It was really hard to look at her and know her, but not see that same look in her eyes.

By the time he’s returning to the farm, it’s 11:45 and he’s exhausted.

He finds Y/N in the bedroom, lying in bed in just a t-shirt and her underwear, completely sound asleep with the blankets thrown off the bed. She looks so beautiful, he slips out of his clothes to match her, sliding into bed beside her and just looking at her perfect face.

He presses a kiss to her shoulder that startles her awake, “oh god, Spencer!” she places her hand on her heart as she calms down.

“Sorry,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in closer.

“How’s your mom?” Her tired words meet his ears and his smile dies.

“Not great, really don’t want to talk about it yet,” he was honest with her, snuggling in closer as she hummed in agreement to drop it. “How was Amoreena’s morning?”

“I told Amoreena I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t need to you to freak out in front of all the kids or cry or pass out in front of all them, but there’s a positive pregnancy test on her all about me project,” she explains it like she’s about to say it’s just Amoreena’s from 8 years ago…

He pulls back slowly, looking into her eyes as she smiles wider and wider, “you’re pregnant?”

She nods her head as her smile gets bigger and toothier, she’s wrapping her arms around him so tight it’s like he can’t breathe for multiple reasons.

“We did it, Spencer, I made you a daddy again,” the words carry from her mouth in a beautiful tune.

He’s holding her back so gently, afraid to squeeze too hard and hurt her and the tiny little life that’s starting inside her. He’s silent, overjoyed but absolutely dumbstruck at the fact it’s real. A month ago he thought about walking into traffic after work and just seeing what happened, now he was a father of 2 with a wife and a happy farm and a life that was good.

A life he deserved.

All thanks to a beautiful little girl with an interest in dinosaurs and making new friends. Amoreena was an angel sent from heaven, improving both of their lives greatly, and now they were making another.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, oh my god yes, I’m just,” he didn’t know what words to say and it was evident. “Amoreena knows?”

She nodded softly, “she now knows girl parts make eggs, boy parts make sperm, and that adults have sex but you can only make a baby at 25, she really didn’t seem to be all that interested in the science, but she’s excited to be a big sister.”

“Wow,” it all caught up to him then, he placed his hand on her stomach softly, “hi little one.”

Y/N laid back against the bed, pulling her shirt up so he could see the barely-there bump, “It’s mostly leftover’s from Amoreena, but yeah, there’s another one in there.”

He couldn’t help himself from running his hands over the curve of her stomach, thinking about Amoreena being in there once upon a time and how tiny she must have been. It was even weirder to think that a part of her was once even in him.

“It’s strange to think that I jerked off into a cup and you made the most perfect kid on earth with it… it just feels like it doesn’t add up. She’s so perfect I can’t believe she was once a part of us both,” he can’t help but let his inner monologue seep out, she didn’t mind it, she loved hearing how his mind worked.

“I can’t wait to see you holding this little one,” her hands joined his on her stomach, the shape of her forefingers and thumbs making a heart over her bare belly.

Spencer leaned in and kissed right in the middle, beside her belly button, in love with whoever was in there already.

“Amoreena had a dream last night too,” Y/N cuts into his little moment, “guess how many sisters she said she had.”

“8?” Spencer can’t help but smile.

She nods, “I don’t know what it is about this house but the good dreams always come true, who knows how many babies are in there right now.”

“I hope just one for now,” he says in all honesty, “I really want time with just one little one, you and Amoreena. A family of four for a bit and then the twins, that’s how it was in the dream.”

“Did they have names?”

“You called them Elly, Junie, tho and Cordelia, and you said there were 3 sets of twins, two after Cordelia,” he remembers it all as if he was really there, whispering all the words against her stomach, his cheek resting on the band of her underwear as he laid between her legs with his arms around her.

“Amoreena, Elizabeth, Juniper, Theodora, and Cordelia were all the options I was choosing from last time,” she says with the widest smile, “how the heck did your mind know that?”

“It felt very real, which is why I was so worried about where I was, I don’t know how I could have missed anything but now I know that part was just my anxiety,” Spencer rationalized it. “Amoreena probably had the better version of that future in her dream last night.”

“I was having a great dream before you came back,” she teases him, running her fingers through his hair as he continues to kiss her stomach.

He loops his fingers around the band of her underwear, sliding it down just low enough to really kiss where that baby of his is hiding out. She lifts her hips into the contact, letting him slip them down her legs and completely off, she spreads her legs even more.

He takes his time pressing a kiss to every single inch of her, her skin is soft, her leg hair is prickly on his hands and his cheeks but it’s nice, he rubs his face against her like a cat marking his territory as she continued to scratch his scalp.

He spread her open with two fingers, he presses a soft kiss to her clitoris and all the way down to her opening before licking a wet stripe up the sensitive skin. The moan she releases is the loudest one he’s heard on her yet, it was really the first time he’s been allowed to really enjoy her.

“It’s important for your partner to help with the stretching in the third trimester,” she teases him, “but they don’t mention anything about starting too early being a bad thing.”

“I don’t want to disrupt anything in there,” he worries aloud, letting her decide if it’s okay.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she laughed, “I don’t think you’d reach them, but if you’re really worried there are other ways to help.”

“Such as,” he asks, lowering his face back down to her wet heat, continuing to explore her with his tongue as he expects her to talk.

“You, um you can, shit, wow,” she props herself up on her elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing as she stalls for a few minutes, “just rub yourself over me, Spencer please, I want more of you.”

She grips him by his cheeks and pulls him up into a kiss, both of them rushing to push his boxers down and off his legs, she spreads her own once more so he can press against her.

His hard cock resting flat against her, rubbing back and forth as he spreads her wetness around with him. The head gliding over her clit just the right way as she held him close to her body, kissing down his neck and sucking marks all over his chest.

She was desperate for him and who was he to deprive her, so he rocked into her more, grinding down harder against her body and making her shaking lightly. It felt better, more intimate, more euphoric than any other sex he’s had, just being close to her had him on the edge faster than he expected to get there.

She’s chanting his name then, head tossed back against the pillow as she digs her fingers into his asscheeks, holding him so close to him he can feel her orgasm rush through her. She stills, bucking up into him one last time as he finishes all across her stomach.

His hands are curled around her cheeks then, holding her perfect face in his hands as he hovers over her, using everything in his power to not crush her or the baby. He’s trying so hard to steady his breathing, so is she, they just smile at each other, laughing lightly at how in love they are.

“I love you,” he says on impulse, “you’re so good to me.”

“Look at all the good you’ve given me,” she whispers, “it would be wrong for me not to love you for everything you’ve done for me, whether you were aware of it or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to tell you about my depression while your cum dries between us like glue,” she laughed at how crude it sounded.

He laughs lightly too, rolling off her to see just how much of a mess they made. “Tell me in the shower?”

“Seems appropriate,” she agreed, taking his hand and following him into the bathroom.

He loved the old feel of her bathroom, the green linoleum and floral wallpaper, the pink towels and bright orange shower curtain, it was happy and bright and the perfect place to laugh for half an hour as they washed each other.

She has him pressed against the shower wall then, water trickling over them gently as she stares into his eyes, “I don’t know how to say it without it coming out really scary,” she finally resumes the conversation they were about to have in the bedroom.

“I’ve probably been in the same mental state, I’m not going to judge your method of choice,” he explains it in a way that she’ll know he really, really gets it.

“I had a few suicidal thoughts when my grandma went to chemo before I chose your sample and before I did all the hormones, I was thinking why should I stay and bring another life into my misery when I could just die first and not have to see her go through that anymore,” she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth as she stops, letting him digest all the words.

“Did you try anything?” He’s not sure why he’s asking.

She shakes her head, the best no he’s ever seen in his life. “My grandma noticed on my birthday when I wasn't coming down for breakfast like normal, I was really depressed and so we went out and talked and had lunch together for the first time in forever cause she wasn't feeling sick, I’ll never forget it. It was the best and worst birthday of my life.”

“I’m the worst husband ever,” he says, taking her by surprise, “I don’t even know your birthday.”

It makes her laugh, taking her out of the sadness as she realizes he really doesn’t judge her, he gets it completely. “January 16th, 1986, three minutes after Evan,” she manages to say it with a smile.

“That’s the date Maeve died,” both of them stare at each other in shock, wondering just how many other coincidences they had out there to figure out.

“How many days after did you donate?”

“On the 19th,” he confirmed without taking a breath, “holy shit.”

“We both were suicidal on the same day,” she covers her mouth with a wet slap, laughing at the worst thing she’s ever said, it’s the shock and the emotions of everything catching up to her right then and there.

“Oh my god,” he laughs in response, both of them laughing as they hugged in the corner of her green shower. “we are fucked up.”

“Soulmate things,” she shrugged, holding him even tighter.

He wished she could see his face then, the looking that overcame him as he heard the word soulmates. She just called him her soulmate. He licks his lips, taking it all in and almost hyperventilating, she can feel the way his breathing changes as she looks up with concern.

“What?”

He shakes the thoughts out, swallowing sharply as he makes eye contact with her, “nothing.”

“No, I know that look Spencer, what did your brain say to you this time? I will go in there and kick its ass,” she pokes his forehead then, threatening his anxiety to fuck off.

“I never thought I’d get to hear someone say that to me, it’s stupid,” he felt too vulnerable suddenly, sky and closed off.

“Who hurt you?” She asks in complete curiosity, wanting to know why he can’t imagine someone loving him.

“My parents,” it slips out before he can catch it, “I love my mom. I always have to preface that, she did what she could but it was nowhere near enough. I don’t hold anything against her, I just hate that that’s how it was, that she had bad days at all because they always shine brighter in my memory than the good days.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you,” she worries this time, seeing the hurt on his face and feeling like she fucked up, he can read her micro-expressions easier than anyone else.

“I would have told you soon enough, my dad left because of my mom's illness and he made sure I knew he didn’t want me. I don’t care that he kept up with me on the internet, the fact he didn’t even care to let me know he lived 10 miles from me my whole life makes me feel sick. I was 14 point 6 miles away from Amoreena this whole time and I would give all my fucking organs to go back in time and be with her from day 1, I don’t get how he could just not love me?” The rant comes out of his mouth for the first time ever, the same thoughts that have been there building for 40 years bursting at the seam.

She reaches behind them to turn off the water then, stepping away from him while he cools down a bit, “Yeah, no I get it, I hate him too now. That's so fucked up, honey, I'm so sorry.”

It makes him huff out a laugh, “I’m sorry, you’re not my therapist you don’t have to deal with all that.”

“I’m your wife, I deal with that regardless. In sickness and in health remember?” She reminds him, “depression is just as real of an illness as cancer. I don’t want you to keep these thoughts from me. I want to know about every paper cut, every splinter, every bad thought that crosses that beautiful mind because I love you.”

“As long as you always remember that too,” he makes sure that she knows he feels the same. “Don’t keep anything from me thinking it’ll ruin the happy atmosphere of this kingdom, Amoreena would tell you that a castle is only as strong as its weakest brick. If you crack we all tumble.”

“My foundations are strong, if not Derek’s a renovator right?” She raised her eyebrows, making another joke. They were always going to be okay.

“Speaking of, how are we going to house all 12 of these children you plan on having?”

"We, smartie pants, we are having," she tosses the shower curtain out of the way then, stepping out and wrapping herself in a towel, “I was thinking we add a few more rooms, nanny and pop were always adding on to this place, it would be nice to fix it up a bit.”

“I can see if Derek wants to help, or we can find a contractor?”

“Well, Alli still has another 8 weeks till her baby comes, so you might as well do something with Derek here in that time,” she agrees with a smile, “my nanny left everything to me, so I have a decent amount saved still for whatever you guys think the house can handle, I just want it done safely, and it has to match.”

She was bossy, he loved every second of it. “Yes ma’am,” he smiles as he steps out, drying off beside her.

Y/N couldn’t stop smiling at him as she watched him fluff his curly wet hair in the mirror, “how would you like to go out and get our first kid a big sister present before the graduation?”

“We never had a chance to read on Saturday, would you want to get her a big sister book and read at the tree?” Spencer suggests, making eye contact with her reflection in the mirror, even backwards she’s beautiful.

She nods with a smile, “sounds great, daddy.”

He wraps his arms around her before she can leave the room, kissing her neck and shoulder as she squirms, trying to get away from him but failing on purpose. “Spencer, seriously we have to go.”

“Then don’t call me daddy,” he whispers in her ear, and he can physically feel the way it excites her.

“We will revisit this later,” she says with a stern look as she pulls away finally, dropping the towel on purpose as she walks towards her new closet.

She was going to be the death of him, and hopefully, that wasn’t for a long time. Hopefully, he thought right then and there, that the moment he finally does die, he dies is beside her. Happily in his sleep, as they’re in their 90’s, and in a perfect world she’d slip away with him.

“Can I ask a dumb question?” He rushes the words out, taking her up on that offer of hearing all the bad thoughts.

“Always,” she smiles.

“When we get to heaven, stay with me? Pick me instead of Stephen for the forever part?” He’s not sure why he’s crying, or why he’s thinking about it. But it’s where his mind went and she said she’d always follow.

She tilts her head to the side, dropping her shoulders as she sighs, “we can set Stephen and Maeve up with each other.”

It makes him smile, she always knew what to say. “Who knows, they could be the reason all this happened.”

She nods then, “I like the thought of that, they deserve to be happy together, I’m sure they would like each other.”

He really believed they were soulmates then, that something bigger set up all these dominoes and he was so excited to watch them fall. To see where they landed, the beautiful pattern that they would reveal. The wonderful world he was creating with her was always going to be amazing because something greater than them said so.

—

She looked more beautiful than he’s ever seen her as they rolled up to the school. She was physically glowing, her hair was perfect, her dress laid over her stomach in the right way that he could see proof she was with child, even if she called it leftovers from the last one. It was his favourite part of her, it was where she made the best person they knew.

They walked around to the back gate, hand in hand, smiling wide as they walked into the little classroom. There were balloons and streamers everywhere, they had little cupcakes all set up and all of them were in matching blue caps and gowns.

Amoreena waved at them when she saw them, not allowed to leave her seat from where they were practicing their ceremony. It was unbelievably adorable, Spencer couldn’t help but be that Dad who took a million photos on his cellphone. He was never going to miss another moment.

JJ wrapped her arm around him sneakily, startling him as she hugged him, “hello Spencer Reid, father and husband,” she teased him. “Still weird thinking of you as a dad.”

He wanted to tell her, but she’d know soon anyway once she saw the all about me project, “shit,” Y/N says from behind him as she realizes too. “Tell her.”

“We’re having another one,” Spencer whispers in JJ’s ear before she can even react.

She smacks his side as she pulls back, staring at him with her mouth wide open. The same face Henry made when he saw Y/N for the first time, completely shocked and nervous, “oh my god?”

He nodded, “we’re not telling anyone, I was supposed to find out on her all about me project but she didn’t want me to pass out in front of all the kids.”

It made JJ laugh, shrugging as she agreed with the idea, she pulled away from him and wrapped Y/N up in her arms, hugging her ever so softly. Y/N closed her eyes and pressed their cheeks together as she accepted the thank you, knowing JJ was just happy to see Spencer succeed.

She placed a hand on Y/N’s tummy before pulling away fully, “I always hoped I’d see the day where Spencer made a little genius, I still can’t believe Amoreena is his sometimes, that hasn’t really hit me yet, but this… this is real. I’m so happy for you.”

Y/N cried a little, wiping her eyes as she laughed it off, “okay, sorry this is a big day for me, my first baby is graduating, this baby is trying to grow a heartbeat, it’s all a lot.”

“I get it, believe me,” JJ agreed, placing her hand on Y/N’s lover back and holding her close to her side. Bonding in that moment, making Spencer’s heart swell.

“Where’s the cowboy?” She changed the subject, looking for Will.

“Oh there’s a case in Kentucky, I missed Henry’s graduation, so I’m here for Michaels while he’s on the case, it’s only fair,” she explained with a smile, content with how their life and relationship worked.

“Do you want to sit with us?” Y/N offered, pointing at the folding chairs, taking a seat with JJ in the front, sitting between her and Spencer so she could talk to both of them before the ceremony.

It was lovely having them become friends, his first love and the last one he'd ever have.

They passed out tissues (thank god) before the ceremony, Y/N and Spencer both using at least 5 as they watched Amoreena get her tiny scroll of paper, move the string on her hat to the other side and then wave at them. Spencer took at least 100 photos of her, unable to stop how proud he felt that he made her.

What Amoreena failed to mention was that she was chosen to be the class valedictorian, surprising them with a tiny speech at an even tinier podium. It was so cute, both Spencer and JJ recorded it to remember for later.

“My class chose me to talk to everyone because I’m the oldest, lots of my classmates like to think of me as an older sister,” she smiled right at her parents, hinting at the fact she knew when she thought Spencer didn’t yet.

So he played along, looking surprised at the word choice.

“I’ve had the best two years with all my friends in this classroom, Miss Kennedy was the nicest women they could pick to make sure we learned everything we need to before grade school starts,” her words were definitely chosen by her, possibly reworded by her teacher but definitely from her heart.

“My mom taught me the alphabet, she taught me how to spell and count, she taught me lots of things that miss Kennedy taught in here, at first it was hard being the kid who knew more, but then it was fun getting to help everyone else learn,” she continued with the most enthusiastic voice, going off-script as she thought of more. “My dad, though, he’s taught me how special our family is. How special it is to get to meet new people and learn about the world with them, I’m so glad my parents made me so I could learn with all of you these past 2 years.”

All the parents were crying, she was able to touch the hearts of everyone around her. At the age of 7, she was more well-spoken, more understanding and grateful than any of the adults in that room.

“I’ll see you all on the big kid yard next year!” She cheered, jumping up and down and clapping, all her friends rushed to the stage for a big group hug.

His little girl was so unbelievably loved, the way she deserved.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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statticscribbles · 2 years

Text

Pack Choice

Summary: Teen Wolf, Brett Talbot/Reader; Reader and Brett start dating and Liam tries to warn her he’s dangerous

Liam Dunbar had been your best friend since you can remember; you’d never really thought about him having a crush on you; or liking you in any way beyond friends. It seemed once Brett Talbot and his family moved to Beacon Hills and he took an interest in you it seemed Liam was pissed. You don’t want to ruin your friendship with him but Liam’s been acting weirder and weirder.

When Brett actually asked you out and you said yes, a little surprised he was interested enough in you because he seemed more focused on trying to befriend Scott and all of his friends.

He takes you out for pizza and a movie and when he walks you back home he’s even nervous to kiss you and ask about a second date both of which you enthusiastically agree to.

”Y/N I don’t care that you’re dating him… uh okay I care but it’s for that reason I can’t talk about!”

“Liam; either you tell me why he’s so dangerous or I’m just going to assume you’re pissed and jealous that Brett asked me out first.” Liam actually growls at you and throws his hands up before storming out. He turns to you as he walks through the door.

“It’s your own fault if you get hurt Y/N.” He snaps and you swear his eyes change colour before he slams the door. You scowl at him and then text Brett to see if you can hang out with him instead of just moping about your best friend becoming an ex-friend. Brett agrees and asks if you’d rather come over to his place or wait for him to get to yours. You decide you want to go over to his and he’s more than happy to pick you.

He’s telling you about his day while you’re driving. You’re laughing and nodding along but you do get distracted, worried about telling him about the sort of fight you and Liam had.

”What’s wrong babe?” Brett rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his forehead against your cheek. You sigh and cuddle closer to him on the couch not focusing on the movie that’s playing.

“Liam was being a dick.”

“Aw what was he going on about?” “That whole ‘it's not safe in beacon hills thing again’ I swear it’s like he wants me to move away!” You grumble and Brett laughs.

“That same old stupid thing about the werewolves again?” He laughs and you join in; hoping he doesn’t notice the worry in your eyes. While this is at least the third time you’ve brought up Liam’s distrust of Brett and Beacon Hills itself, you never mentioned that Liam would joke about werewolves; you try to deny that maybe it wasn’t a joke after all.

”Liam still being weird?” Brett tilts his head before resting his chin on your shoulder again, you roll your shoulder trying to get him to move off, you’d noticed he’ been doing that more; acting more possessive ever since you told him that you and Liam had that fight; while you were both trying to reconcile, Brett seemed determined to avoid talking about Liam, even in a bad way; he often would ignore you even bringing up his name.

“I still want you and Liam to talk out whatever bad blood you two seem to have, it’s like your both trying to be the alpha male in my life and I don’t give a shit; I just want my friend and boyfriend to get along..”

“Hm?” Brett snickers a little and you glare.

“If you keep ignoring me talking about Liam I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?” He glares at you and you can actually see his eyes change colour.

“Stop ignoring me talking about my friend…” You huff and can hear him growling; you think he’s going to yell at you but instead he stumbles forward and you rush out the door but manage to run into a group of people.

“Oh are you Y/N, we’re Brett’s pack..” You try to stumble back from them, but they seem to walk you back towards the house.

“Brett said you were getting him all riled up, talking about the McCall pack, they’re a different kind of werewolf to us; we want people to join, and Brett really does love you; don’t you want to be with him?” You try to find an opening to run away from them but they’ve managed to almost push you back fully to the door where Brett is waiting.

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samwilsonshandsandass · 3 years

Text

I Think I'm Seeing Triple

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Sam Wilson x Sam Wilson x reader x Bucky Barnes x Bucky Barnes x Bucky Barnes Summary: You just want to get settled in in your hotel room for a weekend conference, when your room is also given to two other attendees of the conference. And then something happens no one can explain and four surprise guests are also in the room Warnings: Smut, oral (f and m receiving), spanking, choking Word count: 3240 A/N: @keanureevesisbae were suffering together because of a post with four pictures each of Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan and then I had a thought and got some inspiration.

You went up to your hotel room after the first getting to know each other event at the weekend conference you had to go to. You hadn’t even put your shoes near the door when it opened and in came two other attendees. You knew who they were, had seen them all over the newspapers and also columns. Sam Wilson aka Cap and Bucky Barnes aka… he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore and you didn’t know if he wanted to claim that title to morph it into something good or if he was called something else. So, Bucky Barnes.

Before you could ask them what they did in your room, and how they got a key card when it was clearly booked, and before they stopped their bickering about who was the blanket hog, there were two flashes of golden light and from each flash tumbled a pair of men identical to the pair of men who just walked into your room. Just their clothing separated them from each other.

“Who are you?”

Sam Wilson asked and looked at someone who seemed to be his friend. Although that friend had entered the room beside him.

“I’m Bucky” The one spoken to, said.

“No, I’m Bucky!” A third version of the man said.

“And you?” The one who seemed to be the actual Sam, wanted to know.

“Sam.”

“Who am I then?”

“My less attractive twin?”

“Ha-ha.”

“So, There’s three Sams. And three Buckys. That’s not weirder than other things we were confronted with. And you are?” The Bucky who had entered the room with the first Sam questioned and looked at you.

“Y/N” You answered slowly. “And why are all of you in my hotel room?”

“We’re here because the person at the reception told us this room was available. We’re last minute additions to this weekend conference” That was one of the Buckys. He gestured to himself and one of the Sams.

“O- kay. And you four?” You looked at the seemingly identical versions of the Sam and Bucky who were supposed to be here.

“There was a flash, everything went cold and now we’re here” The third Bucky replied.

“We had something similar happening” The Sam in the middle said.

“Alright. Okay. Cool. I’ll just be blunt and say I wouldn’t have been opposed to one Sam and Bucky being in the same room for an entire weekend” You mumbled after you looked shortly to the heavens.

“You do know we’re supposed to actually attend meetings and workshops and networking events, don’t you?” The Bucky you dubbed “Bucky number one” asked you.

“Stickler for principles…” Sam number one grinned. “I know you. You’d do anything to get out of at least the networking events.”

“Of course I would! Still doesn’t change the fact networking just means getting drunk and fucking someone just for the sake of fucking someone. I’m not for that. And I can’t get drunk.”

You saw the other two Bucky’s nod in agreement.

“So, that’s the defining trait of the different Bucky’s” Sam number two smiled.

“As if you like what comes out of these events” Bucky (you couldn’t say which) grinned back.

“No, I’d cook for someone first. Be a gentleman.”

“See. And I’d take her dancing.”

You cleared your throat.

“I still don’t understand all this” You stated.

“Me neither” Bucky number three. “Maybe we could each explain the basics of yourselves.”

“Good idea. So. In this universe, my universe, you” You sat back on the bed and pointed at Sam number one, “were a para rescue and then used what you learned during that time to save the world. And you” You looked down at Bucky number one who was laying on your belly, “were a P.O.W. during World War II and then basically got turned into a human weapon and got frozen to keep your body the way they needed it to be. You were found and then, a year later in probably the technologically most advanced country on earth you finally got freed for good from it all and now use your skills for good as well. With him as your partner.” You pointed at Sam number one again.

“Wait. You had a second World War? We only had one. You know, the one from 1914 to 1918?” Bucky number two asked. “What happened in your universe?”

“The Germans thought the cure for their humiliation in Versailles could only be coped with by committing genocide and reaching for world domination.” Bucky number one explained. “And my best friend got quite big and muscle-y because of that. Why didn’t the Germans do in your universe what they did in mine?”

“Some Germans had their heads on straight. Fought back when the political landscape of 1920s Germany was close to morphing into street terror and they succeeded. They stayed a democratic country and that was that.”

“My Steve got all the muscles as well.” Bucky number three smiled. Then it fell from his face. “We actually served together, after he changed like that. When the Germans and their allies were defeated, Steve went on to train new recruits back home and I went to Korea.”

“So, you aged normally. How come you’re here now with a body like back then? And why are you also looking like that, when there even wasn’t a second world war and in theory you should’ve lived a long live and, no offence, be long underground?” You wondered and looked between Bucky number two and three.

Bucky number two snorted. “I know what you mean. After school, I actually got a scholarship, one of the few back then, for Teachers College, which is a part of Columbia University. I became a Math and Physics teacher. After some years, the university offered a few places in an experimental study about nitrogen and cryogenesis.”

“And I suspect you accepted one?” Sam number three asked.

“Yep. Wanted to see what progress the future made in science and to have the body and age and mind to enjoy it all fully.”

“That takes being a nerd to a whole new level. I thought the Bucky I know was flexing!” Sam number one exclaimed.

“Just because I could read the Hobbit when it came out and you couldn’t?” Bucky number one shot back.

“You read that, too?” Bucky number two and three exclaimed.

“No matter the universe, they’re nerds” Sam number two mumbled.

“And you two? What happened with you in your universes?” You looked at Sam number two and three.

“My and Sarah’s parents died quite a few years ago. My nephews were little, and yet, I thought I’d help my family more if I went off to the air force. Sarah wouldn’t have that and then the community got wind of my plans and they kept me there” Sam number two smiled. “I took over more of the workload to keep our fishing business afloat so Sarah could focus more on the kids when they were really little. When they got bigger, we shared the workload more equally and still do that now. Haven’t regretted not moving away one day.”

“I also didn’t move away. Well, not entirely to Washington, after our parents died. I worked my ass off to get into an undergraduate program for social work and now I’m working as a counselor for families in tight spots in St. Bernard” Sam number three told.

“Okay. This is quite much, but I can work with that. Or at least understand more. Want to know something about me?” You looked around at the six men around you.

“Isn’t that confusing for you?” Bucky wanted to know.

“On every level, yes. So, I’ll just concentrate on the fact there’s six handsome and hot guys and just one of me.”

“That’s certainly something” Sam smiled.

“Yeah” You laughed quietly and took his hand.

You felt him stroke the back of your hand and move towards you. With a half smile and half lidded eyes, he pecked your lips. He moved back slowly. You cradled his head in your hand and pulled him in again, scratching his head all the while and earning a moan. You moved your lips against Sam’s, sucking his tongue into your mouth. He chuckled against your lips and moved back again. This time just enough to be able to bite your lips and then move his tongue against your lips again.

When he allowed you to breathe, another Sam asked: “You gonna hog her all for yourself or let us have a piece, too?”

“As if I’d deny myself the joy and pleasure of all of you…” You simpered.

“Well then” He pulled you up to stand and walked you to the middle of the big, fluffy rug in front of the bed.

Sam stood in front of you. With a faint smile, he unbuttoned button for button on the top of your dress. At the same time Bucky knelt behind you and let his hands wander from your ankles to the hem of your panties. He pulled them down slowly, until they caught on the hem of your stockings. Bucky pulled them down as well and put them on the ever growing pile of clothes near the foot of the bed.

“Would you look at this body!” Came from the direction of the bed, where the other two Buckys sat when the Sam before you let your dress fall from your body.

“God” That drawn out moan came from the loveseat with two Sams on it.

You smiled and opened your eyes, looking around to see the four men naked and teasingly stroke their cocks.

“C’mere baby” Sam purred.

The two men who had just undressed you went over to the bed. You stood in front of the loveseat.

“And where am I sitting?”

“Laying” Sam smiled and pulled you down.

Your torso laid across the legs of the Sam sitting left and your thighs across the Sam on the right. You wiggled your ass jokingly until you felt a gentle spank on the right cheek.

“We’ll be the ones to make you move, baby. You just relax and take it” Bucky said from the bed. You had no idea which one.

“Although that doesn’t mean we’ll be soft” Another Bucky said. You could hear the smile in his voice.

“I don’t think she wants us to be soft. Well, maybe a little?” The Sam who had your torso laying on his legs, questioned.

You looked up at him and opened your mouth to answer but before you could, he slipped two fingers into it. His other hand wandered to the nape of your neck. He started massaging it, and with a guttural moan, you spread your legs.

The Sam with your legs on his thighs now kneaded your butt, lulling you into a sense of security and comfort.

Then came the first spank. Pretty light, on the left butt cheek. You squeaked in surprise.

Before you could say anything, he landed a slightly harder spank on the right one. You whimpered.

The third spank was even harder, on the left cheek again.

The fourth spank made your ass cheek jiggle and yourself moan.

Sam continued in that tempo and alternated the cheeks with every other spank. The other Sam moved his fingers in and out of your mouth at a different pace, not giving you a chance to get used to just one rhythm.

From the couch pants and moans could be heard. Sam didn’t let you move your head, squeezing instead of massaging your neck each time you wanted to look in the direction of the bed.

“No looking, baby. You just feel and hear.”

You nodded as best as you could and felt a visceral need in your core. You tried to alleviate it, humping the side of Sam’s thigh.

“You need something more, baby?”

You mumbled around the other Sam’s fingers.

“I’d say that’s a yes” The Bucky in the middle of the bed grinned.

“C’mere baby.” Both Sam’s helped you up and got you in front of the bed.

You looked up at Bucky and he petted your cheek.

“Ready?”

You nodded and knelt in front of Bucky and another Bucky pushed your head down to make you take everything until you gagged. They both gave you short periods of reprieve when one of them pulled a little back until they made you gag again. With each gagging noise you made, you felt yourself getting wetter.

Suddenly you felt the tip of a cock between your ass cheeks. With a sigh, a sigh as if he came home, the man behind you penetrated you slowly, making you feel every inch. Bucky pushed you down quickly. The pace made your eyes water and a tear fall but that didn’t keep you from recognizing that beautiful brown skin in the corner of your left eye.

“We’re so good, we make you cry?” Sam grinned, showing his canines.

You nodded once when you heard a growl above you. Suddenly your mouth was empty and not a second later long ropes of cum hit your face.

You opened your eyes just in time to see Sam’s hand rubbing your clit as he pulled your back close to his chest. You felt the warmth of his chest and his accelerated heartbeat at your back. He bent forward to caress your neck. Sam kissed your neck and bit every spot he had just caressed. You bucked against him, trying to get him moving deeper into you. You felt him smile against your neck where he had just sucked. He pressed his index and middle finger to your clit. He tapped it and with two further movements, you felt him squeeze your neck and with a long whine you came.

You wrapped your hands around Sam’s left wrist and that did it for him. You felt him spurt into your core and your legs trembled a little with the aftershocks.

“God…” He moaned into your neck and kissed it.

“J- just me” You mumbled in a haze with a grin.

You heard several chuckles from the bed. Someone pulled you slowly up and put you on the bed. Several people stroked your body and kissed you softly. You, in turn, caressed Sam’s face and could almost hear him purr under your touch.

When you felt like you were in the here and now again, you laid on back on the bed, the head in the lap of one Bucky with one Sam kissing the life out of you. He had his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed now and then. You were moaning and whimpering continuously but you didn’t know why exactly. Maybe it was because Bucky massaged your head. Maybe it was because Sam choked and kissed you so beautifully.

And maybe it was because what happened between your legs. Looking down your body, spread out like a feast, you saw one brown haired head. Two strains had escaped the low bun and stuck to his face with his spit and your slick. Next to Bucky, there was Sam. This was the Sam with longer curls. Perfect to rake your fingers through and pull him even closer to you.

Both of them licked, nibbled and sucked on your private parts and on the tighter rim a little below. Occasionally they bumped heads and shoulders, chuckling each time. Each chuckle sent vibrations through you and made you pull their hair. Every time you did that, they moaned. Even more vibrations went to your clit. A vicious cycle.

Until they stopped everything.

Although you wanted to form words of protest, nothing articulated came out of your mouth.

You saw the two grinning at each other and they rammed three fingers each in you. Three in your pussy and three in your ass. You could only moan and your back arched up.

Bucky attacked your g spot right away and Sam hammered into your ass. With the contrast of that to the kissing of the other Sam and the head massage by the other Bucky, you couldn’t focus on anything, just letting it happen. Out of the blue, you sensed something warm and wet and occasionally sharp on your nipples and your neck. You could only guess that was because of the other two.

With one more come hither motion of Bucky, you screamed into Sam’s mouth and came. You felt your walls spasm and spasm and spasm. Yet, Bucky didn’t stop. Each time your pussy let up, there was another come hither motion and Sam hadn’t stopped fingering your ass once.

Sam and Bucky bit your nipples until they were swollen and the Sam who still had his hand around your neck, squeezed.

Your body, that hadn’t ceased moving since your scream, spasmed as a whole and then everything went black.

---

As you came to again, one pair of Sam and Bucky were grinning up at you and two pairs were grinning down at you.

“There she is again” Bucky smiled.

“I take it you’re satisfied?” Another Bucky asked you cockily.

You nodded, panting.

You were maneuvered until you laid on a mountain of pillows. From that position you could see all six men gripping their erections. Your body was sweaty, spit from six men clung to it, your face was painted with the cum from one of the Bucky’s and between your legs there was a mess of the cum of one of the Sam’s and yours. Still, you wanted more. And you knew how to get it.

You made grabby hands, decidedly close to the men’s cocks. They grinned and moved closer to you.

“Please?” You made puppy dog eyes at them.

“How can you say no to this very beautiful and very naughty girl?” One of the Sam’s mumbled to himself.

“You don’t, never!” Bucky answered and started jerking faster.

You licked your lips and sat up a bit. You didn’t want to miss one second of this show. Their hands went over their cocks, faster and faster until the six faces contorted in pleasure and you saw your belly and breasts be painted by their cum. It was accompanied by several growls and whimpers.

You smiled tiredly, when the six collapsed around you. You pulled them closer, reveling in their warmth.

“Gimme some minutes, doll” Bucky whispered into your ear.

After some time, he went and got several warm wet washcloths. He and another Bucky cleaned you up softly. Only after that, did the men clean up themselves. You turned on your side, tired and sated. Sam pulled you into his chest, Bucky molded himself to your back and put his legs over yours. The other four cuddled up to you three in the middle, making you a tangle of seven people in the middle.

“Does one of you know when the first meeting of tomorrow starts?” You yawned.

“At nine” The Bucky of this universe mumbled.”

“The cyborg strikes again” A mix of a yawn and smile was audible in his voice. “Do we have to attend that?”

“I think so.”

“Ugh. And what about the four not from here?” Sam wriggled his arm free and hugged one Bucky and one Sam to his back.

“No idea” The Sam hugged by Sam shook his head.

“Let’s sleep for now. We can worry about that tomorrow” The Bucky between the two Sam’s said.

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years

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Lovedust Pt.5 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N invites Josh over to work on a project while Peter goes back to his Spiderman duties which sends Y/N into a spiral.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author’s Note: WOWIE I really stayed up all night to finish this ha. Anyway! This gives more backstory about Y/N and what happened with her biological parents and ughhhh things are moving yall! Also leave comments if it’s good and if it’s bad also leave comments 🥰

Warnings: Mention of blood, death, panic attack, ANGST

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue

Even though the Avengers Complex was your home, it was much more than a place where you crashed after school. You had to keep in mind that to any normal person, the idea of seeing alien technology in use or friends from galaxies away wasn’t an average Thursday.

You never thought any of this was particularly strange until now as you got the text from Josh that he was parked in the back lot of the building like you had told him to.

Since you and Josh were partners for anatomy, you thought it would be obvious that you would be staying at his house to work on your project but your dad had other ideas.

The sheer thought of you going to a boy’s house to “study” was absurd, especially since Josh’s parents were always out of town for business. You never thought your dad would ever let any of your friends into the complex, especially a boy but in the name of science, it wasn’t too hard to convince him.

You quietly opened the side door as Josh slid in behind you and let out a low whistle.

“ Not too shabby Stark, although I gotta say, the lawn is looking a bit wild,” Josh smiled as he readjusted his backpack straps,” if you need me to come over to cut it, I charge $9.00 an hour.”

“ In that case, your first shift starts next week,” You teased as you led him to the main set of elevators in the building.

You couldn’t help but feel on edge as Josh followed close behind you. You had never brought anyone over and you were scared that bringing Josh would make things turn into a big deal. You knew how protective some of the other Avengers were of you and you just prayed silently that you wouldn’t run into any of them, especially Peter.

You weren’t sure how Peter would take it if he found out you and Josh were getting closer.

Peter was in a fragile state and who knew what little thing could set him off. You were even more worried that Peter would find out about the party tomorrow night because it wasn’t like you could invite him along.

The idea of mixing hormonal teenagers and alcohol was a recipe for disaster but the damage that could be made from Peter’s self-destructive state could be even bigger.

As much as you knew how badly things could turn out with Josh in the complex, you knew you couldn’t let Peter’s actions affect what went on in your academic life and at the end of the day, Josh was just a classmate.

Josh looked all around him, taking in everything from the colorful array of gadgets neatly built into the walls to the natural light coming from the sleek windows.

“ I feel so out of place- am I underdressed?” Josh asked as a few lab technicians walked past giving you and Josh an odd glance,” and how do you not get lost in a place this big.”

You pressed the elevator button and gave Josh a reassuring smile,” Trust me, they’ve seen weirder things around here. Like, way weirder things.”

When the elevator doors opened, the two of you walked in and you started pointing to the elevator buttons,” So a quick tour! We’re on the main floor which basically is used for important meetings and conferences, the second floor is for the gym and pool, the third is where some of the bedrooms are, fourth is strictly for the scientists, the fifth is the labs, and the other floors are for S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Also, the basement has all the cool gadgets I’m not allowed to play with but I’m convinced it’s just where the guys all hang out and drink.”

“ You have an indoor pool?”

“ That’s what caught your attention?” You laughed as Josh nodded enthusiastically.

“ Well yeah! Do you even use it? I vaguely remember that when you were twelve, you almost drowned in 4ft water at someone’s pool party,” Josh said as you pressed the third button.

“ It was 5ft but yes I know how to swim...my dad made me take lessons after that,” You mumbled as you remembered that experience vividly,” I tried lifeguarding last summer at that super fancy hotel near Greenwich but the training was too expensive so I just took a CPR course at the YMCA and lifeguarded there.”

“ Did you ever have to save anyone?” Josh asked curiously as the glass elevators moved up towards your floor.

You nodded as Josh’s mouth dropped,” Yup, I had to give CPR and everything. Lucky for them, saving lives runs in my family.”

As the elevator doors opened up to your floor, you made sure to carefully scan the hallway before stepping out. Peter was supposed to be up in the labs all-day so that gave you enough time to work on the project with Josh while keeping Peter at a safe distance.

As you were approaching the door to your room, the fridge door in the kitchen closed and revealed Peter with an IV pole on his left side and an apple in the other hand.

“ Peter!” You said nervously as you took a small step in front of Josh, almost as if you were covering him up from Peter’s line of vision,” What are you doing here? I thought you were up in the labs?”

Peter looked past you and eyed Josh up and down before holding up the fruit, walking towards the two of you,” Um, I needed something to eat- Who is he?”

Peter was constantly feeling some type of distress whether it was chest pains or headaches but now that he clearly caught you hiding a boy from him, the pain felt off.

You had never brought over any of your friends to the headquarters before so to Peter, this was already a red flag. Peter felt like his body was on high alert as thousands of scenarios were going through his head.

Josh stepped forward and held his hand out for Peter to shake,” Nice to meet you, Peter, I’m Josh. Y/N and I go to Manhattan Prep together.”

Peter looked down at Josh’s hand for a moment before shaking it hard. Josh winced but played off his pain as he pulled his hand away and stuffed it back into his pockets. You could feel the one-sided tension between the two as you looked over to Peter to try to ease him but his eyes were glued to Josh.

You cleared your throat as you turned to face Josh,“ Peter is a part of my dad’s internship program so he spends most of his time here at the complex. He’s pretty much a part of the family and he’s a really good friend, right Peter? ”

Peter nodded as he tried to calm his nerves down, his quick glance to Josh was almost as if he was begging his body to put his guard down. He couldn’t control his body and this was the first time the lovedust had forced him into a territorial state.

“ No kidding, that’s awesome man. My buddy from Midtown was telling me that he knew a guy who was accepted into the Stark Internship,” Josh said as Peter stood up a little straighter.

“ Oh really? Who?”

“ Flash Thompson, do you know him?” Josh asked as Peter looked over at you, almost as a warning.

While Josh was trying to be civil towards Peter, Peter couldn’t help but feel the pit in his stomach sink lower and lower with the thought of Josh even associating with someone like Flash.

“ As a matter of fact, I do know Flash,” Peter said smoothly, his speech hardly hesitating,” you sure know how to pick friends.”

You and Josh could tell that Peter was giving a dig towards him but Josh quickly let it go as he tried to ease the situation.

“ Well... it was nice to meet you Peter, any friend of Y/N’s is a friend of mine,” Josh said as he gave a genuine smile,” I’m sure Y/N already mentioned this to you but if you’re not busy or anything, my friend is throwing a party tomorrow and you should come out.”

Fuck.

Peter looked at you for a moment before returning a small smile to Josh,” Thanks, I’ll think about it.”

“ Um Josh, can you just wait in my room for a second?” You asked as Josh looked between the two of you and nodded.

You didn’t want to be upset at Peter for feeling hostile towards Josh because you knew he really couldn’t help himself. It was eating away at you that you were the reason Peter was acting so jealous but come on, did he really have a reason to?

Once Josh closed the door behind him, you turned back to Peter and looked down at the IV that was in his arm.

“ Is everything okay?” You asked as Peter looked down at his arm,” that looks pretty serious.”

“ Yeah… I’ve been having some problems but nothing your dad can’t fix” Peter deflected softly before looking over to your bedroom door,” so Josh...is he a friend?”

Peter knew he was walking on thin ice asking about Josh but he couldn’t bring himself to just go back in the labs and worry about the two of you all day.

“ He’s just a friend Peter, we have a school project and we’re partners,” You reassured him as Peter felt almost relieved,” and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the party, I didn’t think you would want to go but I should’ve asked.”

Peter studied your expression for a moment before looking down at his feet. It was hard to tell if you were telling the truth, maybe you didn’t want him to come. School project or not, Peter felt threatened by Josh, even if Josh was trying his best to be as nice as possible.

“ It’s okay, you’re right. Parties aren’t my thing anyway,” Peter shrugged as you bit the inside of your cheek.

You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty but whatever you were feeling, you hated how much it was stirring inside of you. You never wanted Peter to feel left out and you could easily tell that it was bothering him as much as it was bothering you.

“ Maybe if you’re not busy tonight, we can watch a movie together. I checked the kitchen this morning and there’s a ton of frozen pizzas if you’re up for it?” You suggested as Peter tapped his fingers against the side of his leg.

Peter wanted to jump at the offer, any excuse to hang out with you alone literally set Peter so close to having a cardiac arrest in the best way possible. While he was getting the hang of controlling his words around you, it felt like the more time you spent with him, the more he felt himself fall for you.

“ I’m actually going to patrol tonight,” Peter said in a low whisper as he looked back at your bedroom door,” I haven’t been on the streets in a long time and I think I feel well enough to go.”

“ Are you sure you’re ready? You’re literally hooked up to an IV bag Peter,” You said as Peter subtly pushed the IV pole behind him as if he could hide it.

“ I won’t do anything crazy, I’ll be okay. I’ll only be out for a couple of hours and we can hang out when I get back,” Peter said as you hesitantly nodded.

You understood that being a superhero meant that you couldn’t take sick days but this was an extreme circumstance. To you, Spiderman could wait but for Peter, that was a large part of his livelihood that he had put aside for too long.

You wanted to tell him not to go, better yet, if you could hide every single one of his Spiderman suits you would. It didn’t sit right with you that with everything going on with his health that he would jeopardize it but you knew it wasn’t your call.

“ Okay, but please text me updates so I know you’re safe. Things have been so crazy lately and I-”

“ Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll be okay,” Peter interrupted as he felt his heart grow heavy,” I promise I’ll keep you updated.”

You didn’t know why the thought of Peter going out was so scary but before you could think things over in your head, your feet stepped forward and you pulled Peter into a tight hug. You rested your chin against his shoulder as you inhaled deeply as if hugging Peter would calm down your nerves for the rest of your life.

Without a second thought, Peter drew his arms over your body and held you close to his chest. His heart beat even faster than usual as he closed his eyes, holding you even tighter than before.

----------

You checked your phone for what seemed like the millionth time in the last hour as you grew more and more anxious.

Peter had been gone for hours to go patrol while you and Josh were still working on the project. It was eating away at you that Peter wasn’t back yet and every time another minute passed without an update, you felt like you were closer to losing your mind.

Even before Peter made contact with the lovedust, you would still secretly pray that he got home in one piece. When everyone you knew and loved had a career that put themselves in the line of danger, thoughts of not having them around anymore plagued you whenever you had a quiet moment to yourself.

You had lost people before to freak accidents like your biological parents who had passed away when you were old enough to know how death worked. You couldn’t imagine not having Tony as your dad but some nights whenever you were filled to the brim with anxiety, you wondered what your life would’ve been like if your parents weren’t killed during that home invasion.

When you’ve lost people, it never gets easier, terror plagues you. The fear of someone you know getting hurt was by far scarier than anything Hollywood could recreate with CGI and yet, it was slowly looming over you.

Superheros were literally your life and you weren’t mentally prepared that one day, something bad could happen and you could lose them forever. With Peter, you weren’t sure if it was because of how close the two of you were now but the fear of losing him was bigger than any other scenario you had crafted in your head.

“ Is everything okay? You seem a little out of it,” Josh said as you looked away from your phone and back towards your laptop.

“ Yeah, I’m good, my body just feels so tired. I’ve read so much medical terminology within the past couple of hours and now everything is jumbling together,” You sighed as you looked down at Josh who was sprawled out onto your bedroom floor with a textbook resting against his stomach.

You never realized how comfortable your floor was but seeing Josh on your floor looking as effortless as ever was a shock to your system. When Josh caught your gaze, you turned back to your laptop and rested your cheek against your palm to try to cover the blush that was creeping onto your cheeks.

As you rested your cheek against your propped up hand, you could feel your eyelids get heavier with each passing second. Josh noticed from his spot on the ground and sat upon his hands, watching you ever so intently.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed once you closed your eyes but once you felt a blanket drape across your shoulders, you stirred quietly.

You held your breath as you waited for anything else but all you could hear was paper shuffling around. You peeked your eye out and saw Josh crouched down on your floor, carefully putting his textbooks and notes into his backpack, being careful not to wake you.

Instead of waking up to say goodbye, you pretend to be asleep as if you were too nervous to even confront Josh this late. The papers stopped shuffling and as you tried to keep your breathing patterns even, you felt Josh’s hand rub your shoulder softly before walking out of the room.

Once your bedroom door had closed, you hesitantly opened your eyes and gave a quick peek to make sure Josh was really gone.

You exhaled loudly, not even aware that you were holding it in all this time. You let the blanket fall onto the chair before walking over to your large window that pointed towards where Josh had parked.

You knew you should’ve walked him down after everything he had done for your project but the least you could do now was to make sure he left the complex in one piece. After a few minutes of patiently looking out the window, you saw Josh’s car pull out of the long driveway and headed down towards the front gate.

Your mind instantly traveled back to Peter as you checked your phone again but this time you went back to your messages and looked at all of the unread messages you had left for him.

5:12pm || Y/N: update me when you get to your post!

5:29pm || Y/N: oh don’t swing and text loser!!!!

6:01pm || Y/N: you there yet?

6:36pm || Y/N: don’t make me spam text u nerd

6:57pm || Y/N: im gonna just pretend you’re too busy to txt me back-be safe!

7:40pm || Y/N: helloooo?!?! Is everything okay

8:00pm || Y/N: i will leak your identity fool txt me back

8:40pm || Y/N: whatever idc anymore

8:44pm || Y/N: still haven’t heard back from you, you dead?

9:06pm || Y/N: ur freaking me out dude, any updates?

9:33pm || Y/N: there was a fire near the museum are you okay?!?! The news said you were there

9:35pm || Y/N: peter????

9:50pm || Y/N: call me im worried

10:02pm || Y/N: ur scaring me pls respond

You cursed under your breath as you pressed the call button and placed it to your ear. After a few rings, Peter’s voicemail came on and you didn’t even bother to listen to it all the way. You had already left so many voicemails and at this point, there was nothing you could do but wait for him.

You were filled with dread as you scooted back into your bed and refreshed the news pages on your phone.

Spiderman Stops an Armed Gunman Outside Plaza

You knew that it wasn’t healthy for you to keep scrolling online but you needed to know if Peter was safe. You hated the feeling of not being kept into the loop and Peter wasn’t the type to completely ignore text messages unless that meant he was in real trouble, what could you do to help him, you don’t have any powers you’re just a teenager-

You took a deep breath in as you shut your phone off and stared up at the ceiling to clear your head.

Peter is smart. He’s fast. He will be fine. You kept repeating it over and over again like a lullaby and with some luck, you could feel your eyelids get heavier and heavier by the second with Peter being the last thing you thought before falling into a deep sleep.

You held your hand over your mouth to try and stop the sobs that rocked your body from underneath the bed. You could hear your dad begging, pleading to spare his wife before the sound of a gunshot went off.

It was louder than you remembered almost as if the sky let out a roaring thunder that shook the whole house. You could hear your dad struggling with the gunman before another shot rang out, this time even louder.

The glowing stars that were stuck to your ceiling shook off once your bedroom door had slammed opened and you prayed silently, wanting the nightmare to end.

You did your best to be quiet as you watched his feet walk slowly to the bed, almost at a teasing pace like he knew you were underneath there. Everytime the nightmare played in your head, the attacker took on a different appearance. Sometimes it was someone you knew, other times it was just a passing face on the street.

But everytime you had this nightmare, one thing never changed. The shoes, black sneakers with white laces and depending on how terrible the nightmare decided to be, you could spot the splatter of blood against the heels.

You watched as the man walked behind your bed and you let out a scream as you felt his hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you roughly against the carpet. As you scratched at the attackers face, your sob got caught in the middle of your throat.

The attacker always took a different appearance and this time, it was Peter.

You kicked and screamed as hard as you could as he tried to pin you down, his weapon pressed into the side of your rib as you sobbed uncontrollably. You knew it was a dream and you were so used to letting it ride out or until you fell out of bed but with Peter staring at you as he dangled your life between his fingers, all you wanted to do was wake up.

All you could do was continue to fight back through your tears as he kept saying your name, taunting you.

“ Let go of me!”

“ Y/N! I got you!”

“ It’s me Peter!”

“Y/N!”

You shot up from out of your bed, almost knocking heads with another figure as you let out a choked sob. You didn’t realize your fists were still swinging until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your body, cradling you.

The memory of the attacker was still so vivid in your head and all you wanted to do was get away,“ Let me go!” You screamed as you struggled against their grip as they held you even tighter,” get off of me!”

“ Y/N! Y/N! It’s me! It’s me! You’re okay!” Peter shouted as he let his grip go before cupping his hands on either side of your face,” open your eyes! Hey! It’s me, you’re okay!”

You squirmed from his lap as you opened your eyes to see Peter in front of you, the actual Peter. As relieved as you were, you felt your chest tighten as you continued to cry and without a second thought, you leaned into Peter’s chest and buried your wet face into his t-shirt.

Peter held you tighter as he rested one hand against the back of your head and the other was snaked around your waist. He smoothed down your hair as he made soft shushing noises to try and calm you down,” It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I got you.”

You hadn’t felt so relieved to see anyone until now and as you tried to control your cries, you felt yourself slowly transitioning back into reality. You inhaled his scent as you dug your face into his neck and you never thought a smell could bring you so much peace.

Relief wasn’t even what you were feeling, it was more than that. You couldn’t put it into words and it was heavier than the idea of weight being lifted off of your shoulders. Release. To sob into someone’s embrace where you knew you would be safe no matter what felt heavenly and with every sob you let out, you felt yourself separate from the nightmare altogether.

Peter had to hold back his own tears as he held you and slowly rocked your body back and forth like a baby. He wasn’t sure if it was comforting you but it definitely put Peter at ease.

Just minutes ago, he had just checked on you to see if you were still awake and once he saw that you were sleeping, he went back to his room to get ready for bed. It wasn’t until he was putting on his pajamas when the hair on his arm stood up seconds before you actually let out a scream only he could sense.

Peter literally scrambled to your room and had his web-shooters ready because from what he could hear, he thought someone was attacking you. It wasn’t until he saw that you were having a nightmare that he quickly threw his web-shooters to the side and tried to wake you up.

It was one thing to be in love with someone and to go through the motions as if it was a normal occasion but this was different. Seeing you so vulnerable and completely terrified utterly broke Peter in half and he knew for sure that it wasn’t all because of the lovedust.

“ You’re safe Y/N, you’re okay.”

“ Don’t worry I got you.”

“ Just breathe for me, okay?”

For what seemed like forever, Peter cradled you and whispered into your ear to let you know that you were okay and that he was there for you. He wanted you to tell him everything about the nightmare and what had triggered it but he knew that it wasn’t just an ordinary nightmare with the occasional boogeyman.

You thought back to your nightmare one last time as you pictured a hazy Peter attacking you and it almost sent you into another panic attack. Peter could feel how tense you got and his grip loosened so he could look back at you.

Your eyes were puffy from crying so much and your cheeks were flushed red but Peter thought you were absolutely beautiful. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, there was so much to say yet so little at the same time.

“ Thank you,” You whispered ever so softly as you craned your neck up and pressed a soft kiss against Peter’s cheek.

You both knew that it wasn’t an ordinary thank you but for Peter, he didn’t need to analyze it any further. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of Peter’s heartbeat that rang throughout his body.

From pure exhaustion of crying and anxiety, you felt even more tired than before and Peter could feel you slipping back to sleep. He didn’t want to let you go, if he could, he would hold you in his arms forever if it meant keeping you safe and sound.

Once Peter heard your soft snores, he held you for a second longer before carefully laying you back down into your bed. Like second nature, Peter pulled the covers back over your body and tucked a strand of hair that was danging in the middle of your face behind your ear.

Peter ignored the sore feeling that was lingering in his back and forearms from holding you up and lightly dragged his fingers across his own cheek. He was way into deep now.

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