#and youre twisting her words to make her look like the attacker. plus trying to make us think she also wants to stop being friends with us?

[justlemmeadoreyou]

hopelessly devoted to you - 4

Summary: The divorce battle is here, and Harry has prepared you well. Will it go exactly how you wish it should?

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings: angst, crying, insecurities, a divorce and custody battle in court, a kiss. fluff too!

previous part here | series masterlist

The morning of the custody hearing, the courthouse was tense. . You walked in hand-in-hand with Harry, drawing strength from his reassuring presence. Elliot was already there, stone-faced with his arrogant lawyer in tow. The second you made eye contact, his expression twisted into a sneer, looking at you with so much anger and disgust.

Harry leaned in close as you took your seats. "Don't worry about him, yeah? We've got this in the bag as long as you stick to the truth."

He knew that Elliot still had an impact on you, years of torture doesn’t just slip away in one day. But when he wanted to pull you down, he knew he needed to be the support you could climb on to.

You gave a jerky nod, your stomach tying itself in knots. Despite all the evidence and preparation, a nagging voice whispered that it could all go wrong. That Elliot might somehow slither his way out unscathed like he always did. That he would take your daughter away from you, and you would end up with nothing.

The courtroom quieted as the bailiff's gruff voice rang out. "All rise for the honorable Judge Peterson."

Here we go.

The opening statements set an ominous tone. Elliot's lawyer, an oily shark of a man, wasted no time painting you as a scorned, unstable wife making reckless accusations against his client. He portrayed Elliot as a doting family man being unfairly persecuted. A man who was always devoted to his family, and never showed even the tiniest bit of anger toward you.

What a lie, what a lie, what a lie.

But the facade he was putting on didn’t seem to be working. He kept looking down, at the walls, at the stenographer, but never straight front, like an honest person would

Harry's jaw tensed, but his rebuttal was measured and methodical. Over the next few minutes, he clearly outlined the mountain of evidence against your soon-to-be ex -eyewitness testimonies, the drunken, unhinged video from your mother's home, and most damningly, Ellie's own statement about the threatening "uncle" who accompanied Elliot.

You could see the first fissures of doubt cracking Elliot's cocky veneer when Harry finished. His smug lawyer already looked rattled.

Finally, you were called to the stand. Harry's steadfast gaze assured you as you raised your right hand to be sworn in. This was it - time to confront your demons once and for all.

"In your own words, can you describe the sequence of events that led you to pursue this divorce and custody case against Mr. Harris?" the judge prompted in a neutral tone.

You took a fortifying breath and launched into your well-practiced testimony. Every sickening detail, from the escalating verbal and emotional abuse to Elliot's drunken rampages, poured out in an unstoppable torrent. In front of you, Ellie huddled against your mother's side, her little face pale. You never wanted her to listen to these horrors you had experienced, but her testimony was important for the case too. Plus, it was the hearing for her custody, so she had to be present.

Elliot's lawyer tried to shake you, pelting you with ruthless character attacks about being a negligent mother, a cheating wife, an alcoholic with anger issues. 

But, Harry had prepped you well. 

"Look him in the eye and don't let his tactics rattle you. He's trying to make you doubt yourself, but we both know your truth."

So you steeled yourself and stared Elliot down, refusing to be cowed any longer. The more you spoke, the more flustered and furious his lawyer became until he finally sputtered to a halt, realizing his tactics weren't landing.

When you finally stepped down, Harry's proud smile was all the reassurance you needed. The evidence was mounting, the cracks in Elliot's case becoming increasingly apparent. You could sense the momentum shifting in your favor.

The final twist came during Elliot's ex-buddy's testimony. His so-called "friend" strode in, flanked by guards, having been detained on an unrelated matter. The guy's sheer size and plethora of vivid tattoos made it instantly clear why Ellie had been so frightened.

Elliot kept shooting venomous glares at the hulking man, until the shocking revelation dropped - Elliot had hired this terrifying figure as hired muscle to muscle you into giving up Ellie during their confrontation at her school. He was going to take Ellie home with him, once he had threatened you when you came to pick her up.

Pandemonium erupted. Elliot was forcibly restrained as he launched himself towards his traitorous former ally, bellowing vile curses and threats, even spitting at him. The judge had to call a recess while order was restored, the courtroom buzzing with shocked murmurs.

When proceedings finally resumed, the flinty-eyed judge stared Elliot down as a broken, bitter man. Any veneer of upstanding family man had been irrevocably shattered, leaving only a twisted bully raging against consequences of his own making.

At long last, Judge Peterson took a fortifying breath and delivered her ruling. "In light of the preponderance of evidence pointing to ongoing domestic abuse, alcoholism, and reckless endangerment of a minor, I am awarding full legal and physical custody of the child to Mrs. Y/N Y/L/N . Mr. Elliot Harris will be granted supervised visitation rights upon completion of court-mandated therapy and rehabilitation, to be re-evaluated quarterly."

You sagged in your seat, all the tension fleeing in a rush of dizzying relief. It was over. You had won. Tears were welling up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to cry. Not right now.

Harry was beside you in an instant, strong arms enveloping you in a fierce hug. "You were incredible, darling," he murmured against your hair, steadying you while happy tears streamed down your cheeks. "You never gave up fighting for your little girl. I'm so damned proud of you."

His warm breath caressed your skin as you tilted your head back to gaze up at him, savoring the admiration and affection blazing in his expression. For weeks you had fought to ignore the deepening feelings simmering between you. There was a connection, an intimacy that went far beyond even close friends.

Now, caught in his tender embrace, everything suddenly felt so complicated. This remarkable man had strode into your life like a soothing balm, sheltering you and Ellie from the ugliness with his steadfast strength and kindness. He had faced down your darkest demons and emerged victorious, like a knight in shining armor.

Surely you couldn't be naive enough to believe he felt anything more for you than loyalty between friends and allies? And even if he did share the growing spark you felt, acting on it would only stir up more upheaval in the wake of this custody battle, wouldn't it?

You almost convinced yourself that Harry sensed your spiraling doubts at that moment. His bright green eyes dimmed ever so slightly, letting you tuck away whatever fragile intimacy had been blooming between you.

Instead, he simply rested his forehead against yours for a heartbeat, offering you a tender smile before releasing you from his arms. 

Right, back to being consummate professionals.

"Let's go get your little girl so we can celebrate properly, eh?" he murmured, clearing his throat. "I'll call for a car to take us back to mine. Pizza and a night in watching crappy telly. Think Ellie would like that?"

You had no place to live, and in a moment, he had given you a home and a promise–of keeping you and your daughter safe till you parted ways.

Parted ways.

You managed a shaky laugh, ignoring the dull ache in your heart as the moment passed. "She'd love it. Thank you, Harry...for everything."

So you followed him obediently towards the corridor where your mother was waiting with Ellie. For the time being, you would bask in your hard-won victory and focus on nothing but enjoying this reprieve. As for whatever was simmering between you and Harry...that would have to wait.

Because you couldn't afford more complications right now. Not when you were both still putting the shattered pieces of your respective lives back together. Not when the slightest miscalculation could unravel the fragile peace and security you had fought so hard for.

So you pushed away the nagging awareness of all the lingering glances, the heated charged moments when you gravitate towards one another without thought. The profound sense of being utterly seen and cherished for the first time in your life.

All of that would need to be firmly locked away for now, you decided as Harry swept Ellie up into his arms amid her delighted squeals. The way he blinked rapidly to hold back tears you pretended not to notice. The tender, protective way his free hand found the small of your back as he ushered you both out of the courthouse towards your waiting car.

He was fulfilling something he didn’t have to.

For this little while, you would dwell only on the joy. On reveling in your fresh start, free from the shackles of abuse and toxicity that had haunted you for so long. When the time was right to face your blossoming connection with this man who had become your steadfast champion, you would find the courage to lean into those feelings.

But first, you would savor this night with your daughter and the closest friend you now considered family. You would let Ellie's happy laughter soothe every last ache as you snuggled on Harry's plush sofa watching terrible rom-coms and eating a greasy pizza.

Tomorrow could bring what it may. Tonight, you were simply basking in your own rebirth alongside your two favorite people in the world.

The next few weeks passed in a cozy, domestic blur. True to his word, Harry insisted you and Ellie stay with him to decompress after the emotional turmoil of the custody battle. His spacious flat became your safe haven, a sanctuary where you could begin piecing your little family back together.

With Ellie happily ensconced in the guest room surrounded by plush toys and her favorite books, you found yourself settling into an easy routine with Harry. Mornings were spent enjoying elaborate breakfasts he seemed to delight in whipping up - blueberry pancakes drizzled with sweet lemon curd, thick-cut bacon, and frothy hot chocolates for your girl.

"She barely ate anything for months with all the stress," you admitted one morning, watching Ellie devour her third pancake with unbridled glee. "It's such a relief to see her appetite back."

Harry merely reached over to squeeze your hand, offering you that soul-soothing smile. "She's got her mum back now. And she knows she's finally safe."

You tried not to dwell too much on the way those words settled deep in your bones like a warm caress. How you lived for the casual touches, the reassuring embraces that always seemed to ground you so effortlessly. For the first time in forever, you felt truly seen in a way that transcended the ugliness of your past.

Evenings were spent watching musicals and Disney classics cuddled on the sofa, Ellie snuggled between you both. Her delighted giggles as Harry crooned along to the silliest songs in that rich baritone never failed to make your heart swell. Sometimes you would glance over to find him already watching you with an achingly soft expression, his gaze heated yet tender.

Those were the moments your breath would catch, the awareness of him washing over you with heady intensity before you quickly averted your stare. Falling for your knight in sharply-tailored armor would only lead to catastrophe, you constantly reminded yourself.   

Because Harry was planning to request a transfer out of the city once your divorce was finalized.

"Big changes are in order for me too, love," he confessed one evening after Ellie had dozed off between you, her beloved stuffed bunny clutched in her arms. "I've been feeling the need to shake things up for a while now, get out of the big city's toxic rat race. Go to a more quiet place."

You tried not to let your broken expression show, focusing instead on stroking Ellie's soft curls. "That makes sense. You've more than earned a fresh start after...well, everything."

Harry hummed in agreement, lazily tracing patterns on your knee with the pads of his fingertips - an idle gesture that nevertheless sent shivers down your spine and heat lancing through your core. 

It was a harmless habit you had gotten yourself, feeling safe with his touch on your body.

You would have to get rid of it soon too.

"Who knows, maybe I'll finally make good on that dream of opening a practice in some sleepy seaside town where the most vicious crimes are petty theft and parking violations," he teased, emerald eyes twinkling mischievously.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't quite banish your looming sense of loss. The thought of this man eventually exiting your life, leaving just another Harry-shaped hole...it was unfathomable after everything you'd been through together. But you would never ask him to derail his aspirations just to assuage your own growing fears of abandonment.

No, you loved him and–

Oh.

Oh shit.

You loved him.

And loving means knowing how to let go.

"Well wherever you end up, I hope a certain little moppet will be welcome to visit her favorite uncle from time to time," you replied, aiming for a lighter tone.

Harry's penetrating gaze flickered over your face, savoring every feature in a way that made you flush with self-consciousness. "Nothing would make me happier," he rasped, his voice thick with an undercurrent of emotion that sent your heart racing.

You cleared your throat and quickly glanced away, cursing your traitorous heart. Allowing yourself to indulge in the growing spark between you would only lead to more pain when he eventually left. It was better to savor these peaceful moments without becoming ensnared by the hope of anything more lasting.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," you said, forcing a smile. "I'm sure Ellie will be heartbroken when you inevitably move on to greener pastures."

Harry's expression faltered, a shadow of hurt flickering across his features before he schooled his face into a neutral mask. "You're right, of course," he murmured, shifting his gaze to Ellie's sleeping form. "I wouldn't want to upset the little one."

An awkward silence fell between you, the air thick with unspoken tension. You hated the way you could practically feel the walls going up around him, the fragile intimacy you'd shared fracturing under the weight of your own doubts and fears.

Desperate to recapture the easy camaraderie you'd found, you reached out and squeezed his hand. "Harry, I...I don't mean to push you away. It's just—" You sighed, struggling to find the right words. "This has all been so overwhelming, and I can't bear the thought of Ellie getting her heart broken when you inevitably leave.” you took a applause, before saying, “Like everyone else does”

And that shattered Harry’s heart.

His grip tightened around your fingers, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. "I understand, love. Believe me, I don't want to hurt either of you. But I hope you know that no matter where I end up, you and Ellie will always have a place in my life."

You offered him a watery smile, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection for this incredible man. "Thank you, Harry. That means more to me than you know."

He returned your smile, the warmth in his gaze making your breath catch. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him, to let yourself get lost in the comfort and security of his embrace.

But you couldn't. Not when the future was so uncertain, not when your wounds were still so fresh. So you settled for savoring the tender intimacy of the moment, committing every detail to memory.

So you smiled and changed the subject. Because you were the one who chose this path by pursuing divorce, setting into motion the dominos that would ultimately rob you of Harry's steadfast presence.  This day had always been coming.

Still, you couldn't regret finally summoning the courage to shed your shackles and start anew, no matter how bittersweet the cost. For the first time in her young life, Ellie could simply revel in being a normal little girl without the specter of her father's anger and demons looming.  You had given your daughter the truest gift of all - the freedom to grow up unchained by fear and toxicity.

Looking at Harry cuddling her sleeping form, his handsome face awash in tender adoration, you felt a sudden flare of bone-deep gratitude for this remarkable man despite the pain of his future absence. You would carry the strength and resilience he had shown you for the rest of your days. 

So you allowed yourself a fleeting moment of weakness, reaching over to interlace your fingers with his where they rested on Ellie's back. Harry froze at the contact, eyes snapping up to bore into yours with molten intensity. His sharp inhale was clearly audible in the stillness of the room.

But you simply angled your body to face him fully, committing every chiseled plane and nuance of his expression to memory - from those soulful evergreen irises to the dusting of freckles across his proud nose to those ridiculously lush lips you had definitely not imagined kissing more than once.

You didn't speak, though. Somehow you both instinctually understood that words would only taint the profound intimacy thrumming between you in that suspended heartbeat. 

Then you released his hand, the moment fracturing before your heart could betray you even further. Harry gulped harshly, his throat bobbing as he visibly steadied himself.  The air itself seemed to shiver with all the things you refused to acknowledge aloud.

This connection - this blissful yet transient pas de deux you had stumbled into with your dearest friend and savior - was too profound to be reduced to something as ephemeral as mere words. It simply was, and you would soak in every remaining second before you inevitably drifted apart.

Because people like Harry Styles didn't stick around forever, no matter how desperately you might wish it. He was a brilliant, vital force of nature destined for a grand future full opportunity. While you, well...you were just the broken divorcee still only beginning to rebuild your life from the ashes.  

So you would let him go with your blessing, just as he had given you the greatest gift imaginable - your precious Ellie's hand to cling to as you stepped out of the shadows and into the warmth at long last. As you inhaled the gentle citrus notes of his cologne that had become such a source of comfort, you swore to cherish every beautiful memory this extraordinary man had gifted you.

Then tomorrow would come, and the future would wash over you with its inevitable tides of change. But for tonight, you had this: your baby girl secure in Harry's loving embrace, oblivious to the bittersweet poignant permeating the air. The sense of belonging, even if it was only fleeting.

So you smiled and tucked yourself against Ellie's side to bask in their combined warmth, feeling more whole and cherished than you ever dared to dream. The outside world and all its tumult could wait until morning. Here and now in this fragile cocoon, you had finally rediscovered your sense of home.

The next few weeks passed in a cozy, domestic blur. Harry's spacious flat became your safe haven, a sanctuary where you could begin piecing your little family back together. Mornings were spent enjoying elaborate breakfasts he seemed to delight in whipping up, while evenings were spent watching musicals and Disney classics cuddled on the sofa.

And through it all, Harry had been your steadfast champion, your guiding light. Even if the future held the inevitability of his departure, you knew that the indelible mark he'd left on your life would continue to sustain you.

So as you drifted off to sleep, your head resting on Harry's shoulder, you allowed yourself to savor the fragile beauty of this moment. Tomorrow would come soon enough, with all its uncertainties and challenges. But for now, you were home.

In the days that followed, you found yourself clinging to those precious moments of stillness and contentment. The easy camaraderie you and Harry had built slowly began to mend, the awkwardness of your previous conversation fading into the background.

Ellie's joyful laughter and unbridled enthusiasm were a balm to your soul, and you reveled in watching her blossom under Harry's doting attention. He seemed to have an innate knack for making her feel safe, treasured – qualities you'd long feared your daughter would never experience.

As you observed the two of them together, you couldn't help but find yourself falling deeper under Harry's spell. The way he looked at Ellie, with such pure, unconditional love, made your heart swell with a yearning you dared not give voice to. And when his gaze would shift to you, the tenderness and raw adoration shining in those mesmerizing green eyes left you positively breathless.

Still, you resisted the urge to lean into that budding connection, reminding yourself of the inevitable heartbreak that would follow. Harry's plans to leave the city were a constant presence in the back of your mind, a relentless drumbeat that refused to be silenced.

But as the days turned into weeks, and your divorce was finalized without incident, you found yourself growing bolder. Little by little, you allowed the walls around your heart to crumble, letting Harry's presence seep into the cracks. His unwavering support, his fierce loyalty – it was a lifeline you clung to .

And when he would catch you watching him, that all-too-familiar heat blooming in the depths of his gaze, you didn't look away. Instead, you'd hold his stare, daring him to make the first move, to finally tear down the fragile barriers you'd both erected.

The simmering tension between you was palpable, a living, breathing thing that threatened to consume you both. You knew you were playing with fire, risking the precious friendship you'd forged in the crucible of your darkest moments. You couldn't resist Harry's warmth and devotion.

Harry reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. The simple gesture sent electricity crackling down your spine, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't stop thinking about you. About us."

Your heart pounded in your ears as you slowly opened your eyes, drowning in the vulnerability etched across his handsome features. "Harry..." you breathed, your fingers trembling as you covered his hand with your own.

"I know it's complicated, and that I'm planning to leave," he continued, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek. "But I can't deny this any longer. The way I feel about you, it's...it's everything."

You found yourself nodding, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as the weight of his confession settled over you. "I feel it too, Harry. God, I've tried so hard to ignore it, but—"

He silenced you with a gentle press of his fingers against your lips, his gaze burning with an intensity that stole your breath away. "Then don't," he murmured, his face inching closer to yours. "Don't ignore it. Let me in, Y/N. Please."

The world seemed to slow to a crawl as you stared into the depths of his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But all you found was a fierce, unwavering adoration that threatened to unravel you completely.

Slowly, reverently, you lifted a trembling hand to cup his jaw, marveling at the soft scratch of his stubble against your palm. 

"Well, then, I guess one man's trash is another man's treasure," you said, the words slipping out without a second thought. The smile faded from Harry's lips, his brow furrowing.

"Don't ever say that again." His voice was soft yet firm. "You are a treasure. You're my treasure. But you were never anything less than that, not to me."

Before you could respond, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. All the unspoken feelings between you ignited, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. You melted into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his soft curls as you surrendered to the passion consuming you both.

His lips moved against yours in a way that had you melting into him. His touch was soft, almost as if trying not to break you.

When you finally parted, breathless and flushed, you found yourself drowning in the sheer adoration etched across his face. "Bloody hell, you're everything," he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. "I didn't mean to fall for you, but I can't imagine my life without you in it."

You chuckled weakly, your fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. "I think it's a little late for that, Harry. I'm afraid you're stuck with me now."

His answering smile was dazzling, a glimpse of the boundless joy that had been lurking beneath the surface. "Good. That's exactly how I want it."

In that moment, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you and the sleeping child you both cherished. The future was still very much uncertain for you, but it seemed less uncertain when you knew you had Harry.

You knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, not with Harry's departure coming. But as you curled up against him, Ellie's soft breaths ghosting across your skin, you felt a profound sense of peace wash over you.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[cameronspecial]

Fight or Flight

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Sexual Content (Not full-on smut but mentions of a heavy makeout and grinding.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: When Y/N plans to take her first solo trip, Rafe has to make sure she can defend herself.

A/N: Inspired by this post.

Masterlist

Wherever Y/N is, Rafe isn’t far behind her. The duo had been best friends since they were in diapers and he has been protective of her for almost as long. Everyone knew they liked each other, but neither of them was willing to admit it. “You don’t know how to defend yourself, princess. Who is going to protect you if I’m not around? I can book a ticket right now if you want,” Rafe proposes, watching as she books her own ticket to London. Y/N shakes her head, “Rafe, it would defeat the purpose of my first solo trip if you come with me. Plus? I don’t need you all the time to protect me. You know, I’ve been taking self-defence lessons.” He raises his eyebrows in a surprised manner. “Really? You think you know enough to keep yourself safe?”

“Yes, the instructor seems to think so.”

“Okay, well, if you want me to not coincidentally happen to be on the same flight and staying in the same room, then I’m going to need to test your skills. I’ll book the boxing platform at the gym for us for tomorrow. Deal?”

Knowing it was the only way she could get him to back off, Y/N had no choice but to agree. “Deal.”

———

Y/N walks out of the woman’s changing room in her athletic clothing with her hair in two Dutch braids. Rafe can’t help but smirk when he sees his old high school varsity sweater covering her figure. He knew she had stolen it even though she kept denying it, but he couldn’t be angry at the fact because the sight before him was breathtaking. She gets to the rope that surrounds the ring and he walks over to help her up. She feels a warm feeling in her stomach as he does most of the work lifting her up onto the platform without breaking a sweat. “I’m not going to go easy on you. A normal attacker wouldn’t,” he warns as she takes off her sweater. She gives him a thumbs up and they go on opposite ends of the platform. 

They begin by circling each other and then Rafe goes in for the attack. He lunges forward and wraps his large hands around her neck. Y/N remembers what she learned and immediately tightens her neck. She uses the weight of her whole body to push down on his thumbs and bow herself out of the choke hold. She does a little victory dance that makes Rafe laugh at how adorable it is. “You know you shouldn’t do that if you were actually being attacked,” he comments, stepping back from her. She looks over at him, “I know, but I’m proud that I actually remembered. Hey, can you get me your water bottle, please? I’m thirsty.” Rafe just shakes his head with a smile on his face and turns to do as she requests. 

Once his back is facing her, she runs with all of her force to push him onto his stomach, which works. However, Rafe thinks faster than her next move and he swipes his foot from side to side. It knocks Y/N off of her feet and she falls flat on her back. Her legs are spread open on top of his spread legs and before she can get herself up, he hooks his legs around her. He twists them so that she is on her stomach and his chest is against her back. His pants brushes past her ear causing her cheeks to heat up at the feeling. Rafe knows the position has made his blood rush to a certain prominent lower body appendage, but he does nothing to hide it from her. They stay lying this way for a few seconds in silence and since she doesn’t try to remove herself from him, he decides to shoot his shot.

He lowers his head so it is closer to her collarbone, placing a kiss right there. Y/N’s breath hitches as he begins to kiss up her neck. He stops at a particular spot where he notices her eyes fluttered shut and begins to nibble at the skin. The attack on that spot only stops when he is certain a hickey is going to form and he begins to kiss his way back up to her lips. She brings her lips to his and they start to move against one another. This position is a little uncomfortable to be making out in so she quickly flips over so that their chests are pressed against each other and her legs are wrapped around his waist. He places his lips back to hers and his tongue slips into his mouth, but they begin to fight for dominance. When it begins to look like she is losing, she thrusts her hips up so it comes into contact with his clothed cock and he stops to let out a moan. That is when she takes the advantage to slip her tongue into his mouth.

She notices how much he likes that action and she flips them so that they are both sitting. She straddles his hips and begins grinding into him. He moves his lips from hers and starts kissing back down her neck so his lips are kissing the top of her breasts. Realizing where this is about to go, she runs her fingers through his hair to push his head back. She presses her forehead against his and they both take a panting moment to catch their breaths. “We can’t continue this here,” she breathes out to him. Rafe brings his lips close to hers, “Okay. We can continue this in London.” 

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[writeforfandoms]

Island 3

Find the series masterlist

You do your level best to make sure these four can survive the Island, if anything were to happen to you. Things don't always work out as planned.

Warnings: Violence, dinos, most everything is trying to kill people, dinos are hungry and people look tasty I guess, swearing, injury.

Word count: 2.1k

The next days passed quietly. No drops in sight. No attacks. 

Just teaching. 

You took the group of them out to gather berries and plant fibers. You showed them how to weave baskets to the best of your ability - you were far from an expert, after all. 

You took them hunting again, a skill they already had mastered. But you made sure they all practiced getting cuts of meat. 

You made them all help you with cooking, too. Cooking was an essential skill, one they would need. 

Just in case. 

You weren't surprised when Price brought up taming again. 

“Taming.” He stood in front of you, arms crossed, head tipped to look down at you. 

You huffed in soft amusement. “It is week two,” you agreed. “Alright. I assume you want the hands on version.” 

That got you interested looks, Soap and Gaz lifting their heads and looking at you with blatant curiosity. 

“Right, okay.” You couldn't help but smile, amused. “Grab your weapons, I'll get Bessie.” 

It didn't take long before the group of you were headed down towards the beach. The hyaenadon had insisted on coming, and trotted happily between you and Gaz. 

“Think we could find another one like her?” Gaz motioned down at the hyaenadon. 

You shrugged. “They're around, though not so far down as the beach,” you mused. “But they're hard to start taming, you have to sneak up on them.” 

“Probably don't have ghillie laying about,” Gaz guessed with a little grin. 

“Funny you should mention that, actually.” Your lips twisted in a complicated mix of emotions. 

“What, really?” Gaz turned wide eyes on you. 

You shrugged, fingers twitching restlessly at your sides. “I have a set that more or less fits me, and two more sets. Plus some bits and pieces. It's one of the things that can be found in the drops.” 

Gaz nodded slowly. “I'd like to see that, and what else you have,” he said. “Later.” 

“Later,” you agreed, pausing at the tree line just at the edge of the shore. “Right. Who's volunteering to try this?” 

There was a moment of silence as the men all looked at you, clearly unwilling to volunteer to be the first. Until Price huffed and stepped forward. 

You nodded. “Right, good. Pick a dino. Anything you can see around here will be an easy tame.” 

Price turned a slow circle, taking in the beach, the various creatures walking around, and the sight of his men all huddled together like school children. He huffed. “What are the advantages to each?” 

You couldn't help your little smile at that. “Don't bother with dodos, they're not good for much but food. Trikes are good defenders and they can carry a lot of weight. Parasaurs can carry a fair bit too, and they're good watch towers.” You shaded your eyes to look around again, to see what else was around. “Let's see… that looks like an iguanodon, never had one before. If we can find one, gallimimus are pretty fast runners.” You shrugged, looking back to Price. 

His brow furrowed as he looked out at the iguanodon. This one was mostly green, with darker green stripes along its back and a lighter belly. Not a bad choice for a first tame. 

“That one, then.” Price looked back to you, shoulders straight and even. 

“Right.” You stood straight and looked at the other three. “I'm leaving you lot here with Bessie and the hyaenadon. Too much activity will spook the iguanodon. So I expect you lot to stay here and keep your eyes open. Yes?”

“Yes ma'am,” Gaz agreed easily, while Soap murmured an “Aye”. Ghost said nothing, but his chin dipped towards you, just enough acknowledgement that you took it as agreement. 

You grabbed the bag of berries from Bessie's saddle and handed it to Price, whistling for the two tames to stay put. The hyaenadon whined but sat next to Gaz. 

The walk towards the iguanodon was quiet, Price keeping pace with you. He stopped when you did, crouching next to you in the long grass. 

“Here, take these.” You handed him a bag of berries. “Start rolling berries towards it. You want to entice it closer until you can hand feed it.” 

Price gave you a bit of a side-eyed look but did as you instructed. The iguanodon slowly lumbered towards the two of you, eating berries along the way. You smiled, just a little.  So far, so good. 

The iguanodon stretched out its neck slowly, cautiously, until it could take a berry from Price’s hand. It was a little less shy the next time, until it didn't hesitate at all taking the berries from him. 

The look on his face was priceless, a bit shocked and a bit awed. 

The iguanodon lifted its head and lumbered away, not fast like it had been alarmed. Just like it was done eating. 

“Good,” you murmured, watching it go. “How do you feel?” 

He wiped his hand off on the grass, shrugging after a moment. “That was… interesting.” 

You laughed quietly. “Yeah, I remember. Okay. Think about it. How many more times do you think you need to feed the iguanodon?”

“Once.” He blinked after he spoke, like he hadn't quite meant to say that. 

You nodded knowingly. “See what I meant?”

He huffed, but his lips twitched in amusement. “I do see,” he agreed. “So, what now?” 

“Now we head back. Or, I suppose we could do a bit of hunting while we're out.” You stood up and stretched, working out some of the ache that had settled in your muscles while you waited. 

He stood with a little grunt, nodding for you to lead the way. 

“So? How'd it go?” Soap asked as soon as you two were close enough, clearly intensely curious. 

Leaving that one to Price, you simply rolled your eyes and tucked the bag of berries away again for now. Right. How best to divide the group of you…

“Gaz, you and I are going to gather berries. You three can hunt.” 

Gaz didn't even protest, just nodded once to you. 

By now, you trusted those three enough to not get themselves hurt while hunting, so you just whistled to the two tames and started looking for berry bushes. Gaz kept pace with you easily, glancing over at you every so often. 

“Think I could tame a hyaenadon?”

You snorted. “Sure,” you agreed with an easy shrug. “If you really want to, we'll figure it out.”

He grinned. “I'd like that.” 

You chuckled. “She is sweet,” you agreed, looking down at her. “We'll see if we can find you one to tame in a decent area.” 

“Thanks.” Gaz grabbed an empty bag and started picking berries. You stopped at the next bush down, focusing on not getting pricked. A soft curse from Gaz made you chuckle. 

“Thorns?” You asked, deceptively mild. 

“It was hiding,” he grouched, making you smile. 

Companionable silence fell between you as you focused on picking berries, moving around each other easily. 

“Think you'll make more of those biscuits?” Gaz couldn't quite keep the hopeful note from his voice. 

You laughed softly, shaking your head in amusement. “That fond of them, huh? Yeah, I'll make more. Although we'll need to find a supply drop soon, I'm getting low on some things.” 

“We'll find another one soon, I bet.” Gaz tied off his bag and went to get another, wandering off to find a different type of berry. You just watched him go, a little ache in your chest. 

They'd all learned fast, had taken to living here more easily than anyone else you'd seen. It was incredible, and heartening. 

Even if something happened to you, they'd be fine. 

The rest of berry gathering went quickly and quietly, and the two of you went back to see what progress the others had made with meat. 

Between you and Price, it didn't take long to get things packed up on Bessie. (Soap still eyed the dino with mistrust, but he was coming around.) Soap and Ghost took the lead, Soap chatting as they walked. Price walked next to Bessie, keeping an eye on the rear, leaving you and Gaz walking together in the middle of the group. 

Everything was fine. You didn't see any movement around you, didn't hear anything unusual. 

Soap shouted ahead of you, and a gun boomed through the relative quiet. You took off, swearing when you spotted the long body on the ground. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, skidding to a halt at Soap's side. “Did it bite you?”

“Aye,” Soap hissed, looking down at his leg. “Burns.” 

“Shit.” You dropped to your knees, leaning closer. Sure enough, blood seeped from the bite mark, punctures clear from the fangs. 

You didn't have anything for this at base. Not for a titanoboa bite. 

“Get on Bessie,” you ordered, pushing back to your feet. “Now.” 

“But–” Soap looked confused for a moment. Ghost, fortunately, didn't care, and bodily moved Soap to the trike. Price didn't ask, just helped shove the mohawked man up onto the dino. 

“We need to move.” You didn't look back at them, just started towards the base. Gaz kept pace with you, shooting worried looks towards you. But you didn't say another word the entire way back to base, too busy thinking of what needed to be done. 

This was not going to be easy. You felt like a fool for not having anything for a titanoboa bite. But you hadn't seen one for a long time, hadn't thought they came to this area… 

It was still your fault. You hadn't prepared them for all the dangers of this place. 

You hadn't been prepared for this. 

If Soap died… 

No. No, you weren't going to let that happen. 

You pulled the gate open and ushered the others in. “Get him inside,” you said, glancing at Soap, who had gone pale and sweaty already. 

“What can we do?” Price asked, even as he helped Ghost get Soap down from on top of Bessie. 

“Get everything else inside,” you answered, barely waiting for Soap to be out of the way before you started unloading bags. “Keep him cool. Do whatever you have to, but he will be running a fever.” 

“There must be something else,” Gaz pressed as he took some things from you. 

“No,” you snapped. “You all are staying here. I am getting the things I need for the antidote.” 

“One of us should go with you,” Price argued, even as he took things from you too. 

“No. I'm taking Ripper. Nothing else will keep up with him.” You pulled off one of the bags from Bessie's side, putting it aside and unloading the second bag. 

“Let us finish this,” Price ordered, coming back out with Gaz. “Do what you need to get ready.” 

You didn't bother arguing, just dropped everything and jogged over to Ripper's paddock. The raptor huffed at you, prancing in place a little. 

“I know,” you murmured. “Hold still.” It took a little longer than you liked to get his saddle on and fastened properly. It had been a while since you'd ridden Ripper. But you finished and led him out of his paddock. 

“How long will you be gone?” Gaz hovered nearby, shifting his weight as he watched you. 

“Don't know,” you admitted, glancing at him for only a moment before the guilt threatened to render you useless. “I'll be as fast as I can, I swear.” 

“Be safe.” Gaz stepped closer, taking your hand and squeezing it. “Okay? Come back safe.” 

“I'll bring back what we need,” you promised instead. It didn't matter if you were safe. Speed was more important than safety. It mattered that you saved Soap, nothing else. 

Gaz squeezed your hand again, but didn't press the issue. Instead he backed up, giving you and Ripper room. 

“Stay,” you told the hyaenadon finally, leading Ripper to the gate. “Keep him hydrated and cool,” you reiterated to Gaz. “Whatever it takes.” 

But you didn't give him time to respond. You pulled yourself up into the saddle and clicked your tongue at Ripper. Finally free to run, the raptor took off, long strides eating up distance much faster than any other tame you'd ever seen. Except maybe a horse. 

You knew where you needed to go. You knew what you needed to get. But you didn't know what you'd encounter along the way. 

Dammit. 

But you wouldn't let Soap die. Not on your watch.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #f!reader #island

[ficdumper]

Hey there! So I heard that you doing requests so I decided to ask for one! It would be male reader x Rosie, where the reader is a psychotic murderer who's just in the hotel for the free room and is usually a nuisance, but when Rosie comes to visit one day he goes all silent and shy and she finds him super adorable so she keeps coming back. It can be head cannons and it would be romantic fluff.

Rosie x m!reader

Type: one-shot, headcanons

Relationship: romantic

Tags: fluff

Warnings: mentions blood and murder

You, just like all the other sinners in the Pride ring, were here for a reason. Or, reasons. For some it was an ice cream stolen when they were 5, for others - alcohol and robbery.

For you, though?

Murder.

Lots of it.

You've always been quie a creative person when it came to death, your own didn't change it. It just meant you could get more creative and stop hiding it.

Your first years in hell (or has it been centuries) were pretty much the same: kill, cause chaos, annoy some overlords, kill and so on. It was becoming a little too repetitive. So, when you heard about Hazbin hotel, you decided to check it out. It seemed quite an easy deal: you show some of your less bloody qualities and you get to stay there for free. Sounds like a dream, right?

Well, not completely. Charlie's sweeter than sugar meetings and not being allowed to torture whoever you liked there didn't seem very nice. But a big plus, besides free housing, was that you managed to befriend Alastor, or at least become a close acquaintance.

Was it a big surprise? To other residents, probably. To you, however? No way. Both of you could be described as psycophats, curses, menaces and every other "compliment". But your bloody styles still had some differences. While Alastor was more formal and quite careful, even a little elegant in his own twisted way, you were more unpredictable and chaotic.

It wasn't just with murder. You quickly git a reputation for pulling some unexpected pranks. Let's just say, you're a master at giving others heart attacks.

One day Alastor thought it would be interesting to show his best friend Rosie the hotel. And that's what resulted in our current situation: you were so bewitched from the moment you saw the elegant cannibal that you walked into a wall so hard you got a nose bleed (and who can blame you?)

When Rosie sees it, she asks if you're alright and wipes the blood off your face. You can't do anything besides letting her and admiring her up close. Her dark eyes, her neat elegant hair, her perfect smile...

Your thoughts may be beautiful, but from the side you looked like an entranced zombie staring at Rosie with a slightly opened mouth. 'Now, we don't want you to choke on a fly' she says before gently closing your mouth with her hand, while a gentle smile adorned her face.

That made you shut down completely. Usually you would make a comeback or bite off the hand, but now you were nothing like that. Who knew that someone could bring down a murderous psychopath to his knees with just a smile and a few words?

Even when you were covered in blood and unable to say anything, she couldn't help but think 'Cutie~'

She wouldn't mind getting to know you closer, what a bloody pleasure ❤️

She quickly gets interested in you, but it takes more time for her to actually develop romantic feelings

You quickly intrigue her, especially how someone as bloody and murderous like you can be so adorable and romantic

You two give off Morticia and Gomez vibes, you can fight me on this

She sometimes teases you for blushing and/or stuttering around her. She can't help but find you adorable

You two would develop a tradition of meeting up in the Cannibal Town for some tea and snacks

Since both of you can get quite bloody, she would invite you to her Emporium to try out some body parts. Definitely learns your favourites

Someone: why are you two together?

Rosie: he makes me laugh

Reader, covered in blood: •⩊•🔪

A/N: The photos aren't mine, found them on Pinterest

Thanks for your request, I had fun with it😊✨

#hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #fluff #one-shot #rosie x reader #hazbin hotel

[absurdthirst]

How do you think Joel would react finding out that you’re pregnant and he’s the father (after losing Sarah)?

Soooooo I'm actually writing a story with @wardenparker right now where you had a night with Joel outside the walls and over year later he finds out he has a baby girl.

Joel's reaction below the cut.

"That's fair." But it still makes you blow out a slow, anxious breath and look down at your hands in your lap instead of even trying to look him in the eye. "It's just...if either of you has an issue with being around a baby...I'll find you somewhere else to sleep."

A baby?" Joel's eyes widen in surprise and he frowns. "You found a baby out here?"

"Not quite." Found isn't really the word you would use. "I..." Your fingernails bite into your palms, nerves making you close in on yourself. With no idea how Joel will react, you just dive in head first. "She's seven months old. A-and her name is Caroline."

It doesn't take long for Joel to put the pieces together. You look like you're about to shit a brick and twisting your hands together nervously. Seven months old plus the eight months carrying her. Puts her conception right at the time where he had been outside the walls and met up with you for one night. Joel's chair scrapes the floor as he pushes it back abruptly and turns to stalk out of the room, needing fresh air before he passes out.

"Oh fuck," Ellie murmurs, eyes going wide as she looks between you. Whatever gossip she thought she was going to get, this is way better.

"It's not like I could just call you." Immediately ready to defend yourself, you're also ready to collapse inwardly from the anger and hurt on his face. "Show up to a FERPA QZ unauthorized and they hang you, so it's not like I could go to Boston, either." Calling the baby Caroline had been your nod to the city where her father supposedly lived, and she's had Sweet Caroline sung to her as a lullaby every night of her very short life.

Your words stop him from leaving, his back turned to you and he tries to breath but all he can see Sarah's lifeless eyes, unable to protect her. "I-I need- to go-out-outside." Joel chokes, out, stumbling for the door.

"Joel!" Turning to follow him right away, you pause only for a second to point a finger at the girl. "Stay here," you tell her firmly before going after the man who has no idea how to navigate the colony he's about to be ambling around blindly.

Joel hits the door, stumbling into the colder night air, stumbling off to the side and bends over as he tries to suck in lungfuls of air and put his head between his knees at the same time. Blind panic taking over as all he can hear is the rapid, panicked breaths of his dying daughter's last breaths, not realizing it's actually his own breathing.

"Joel." Shooting after him, you find him hyperventilating against a tree in the courtyard beyond the gate. This isn't the first time you've ever seen somebody have a panic attack - it's a regular occurrence to a certain extent - but since it's the first time you've ever had to tell a man that you gave birth to his child, you're a little shaken. "Joel, you gotta breathe, okay?" You kneel down beside him and gently put your hands on his shoulders, trying to figure out if touching him will be soothing or just spook him more. "Deep breaths. Long, steady exhales."

"I c-can't - you- you- ba-bab-baby" Joel closes his eyes and stops breathing at one point before he starts to drop down to his knees in the dirt. Inhaling roughly and sounding like a man starved of oxygen finally getting a breath. Trying not to pass out from the rush of oxygen to his brain and he clenches his fists on his thighs.

"I don't want anything from you." What the hell could you even ask for? Child support? That's fucking laughable in the world you live in now. Dropping to your knees in the dirt next to him, one hand is one his back but you're trying to search his face for some kind of reaction beyond panic. "Caroline and I are as good as anybody can be with the way the world is, okay? You just concentrate on deep, looong breaths."

"I don't- I can't-" Joel chokes out a sob and his hand wraps around his watch. The last thing that he has from his daughter. "Sarah." He manages, trying to steady his breathing.

"Sarah doesn't need to know." Finding out he does have someone waiting for him is a disappointing twist to your gut, but you can't be focusing on yourself right now.

He shakes his head, shoulders slumping down and he takes a moment before he manages to take an even steady breath. "Not-" He stops himself and reaches for your hand. "She's okay?" He asks. "You're okay?"

"Yeah." You nod and squeeze his hand, wondering what the hell is going through his mind. "Yeah, Joel. We're okay. One of my friends is watching her while I'm on night shift, but we're good. She's...she's my angel."

Joel closes his eyes and absorbs the news that once again - twenty years later - he's a father. He nods, squeezing your hand back before he opens his eyes, more in control of himself than he had been minutes before. "Okay." He rasps out.

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

I was wondering if you could do a joyce byers x daughter reader or daughter figure where the reader has a bad panic attack and joyce consoles/comforts them? I'm asking all around for this fic. I have really bad panic attacks so i'd like to think of joyce as a comfort.

i don’t typically write for joyce (only in my ST series) but she is such a good mom. i too would like to be comforted by her. takes place pre-season 1. joyce still has her job at melvards or whatever it’s called. also i get bad panic attacks at times it sucks.

joyce byers x fem!reader (platonic) (cw: cursing, slut shaming, harassment, panic attack. also tommy hagen in its self. why i chose to include him, probably cause it was the ‘easiest’ way to produce a PA at least for me.)

masterlist

stupid tommy hagen and his annoying ass face. egging your car, spilling his lunch on you, call you not true names. you’ve had enough of his taunts.

“oh, if it isn’t the walking tramp of the (l/n) house. hey, how much for an hour? heard you were quite pricey.” his obnoxious laugh filled the square. it was only you and him walking down the street, how lovely.

“fuck off, hagen.” not bothering to look his way. gripping your purse strap in a vice.

he scoffed, “oh, i’m actually asking you to fuck me. heard from some of the basketball team your pretty good at the dirty dance. holy praises.” you could hear his feet dragging on the pavement.

you glared over your shoulder at him, flared nostrils and scrunched brows. “don’t you have a girlfriend? pretty sure she’d be fine with your charity case ass.” turning back to see your place of work coming into view.

just as you passed the hardware store a bruising grip latched onto your left wrist and yanked you back, causing a stumble to your walk. tommy hagen was pressing his chest into your back, almost curling over you as his breath fanned the side of your face.

“i’d watch that slut mouth of yours. could land yourself in some real tro-“ you cut tommy off as you twisted yourself and slapped him hard across the face. chest panting with quickening breaths.

“leave me the fuck alone!” kneeing him in the crotch for good measure and dashing into melvards. fast feet carried your further into the store so you weren’t seen from the windows.

“hey hon- you okay?” joyce byers circled the register and walked towards you slowly.

you didn’t realize you were shaking until you could barely get a word out with it getting stuck in your throat. “i- i uh, tom- he har- harassed-“ frantically pushing at loose bits of hair, tugging harshly at your clothes.

“hey, hey.” joyce helped move your hands from the hem of your shirt. “slow breaths. deep, slow breaths.” then she wrapped her arms tight over your shoulders, palms pressed flat between your shoulder blades and running in soothing motions.

your hands clinched to her work vest, fingers curling into the scratchy fabric. your hiccuping breaths were making you light headed and frantic. “in and out. in and out slowly.” joyce said calmly. “you need to calm yourself hon, your heart is beating fast.”

“i- im try- trying.” squeezing your eyes shut. “i know.” a hand slid up to cradle the back of your head.

it must have been only a few minutes of joyce cooing and comforting you before you were calm enough to step away from her hold. “sorry, didn’t mean-“ “it’s fine, hon. i’m a mother, it’s natural for me to parent people.”

you wiped away a few stray tears. “wanna- wanna tell me? about what happened?” rubbing a hand over your bicep. you just shrugged, “boys and stupid rumors making my life hell.” keeping your eyes to the linoleum floor.

joyce licked her teeth, “have you gone to the sheriff? sure that would help, to have an authority figure step in.”

“worried it might make it worse somehow.” picking at your nail beds. “plus there’s no actual evidence, only word of mouth.”

joyce hummed, “well, as the adult and a parent, you should go to the police or even your principal. kids shouldn’t be do that kind of stuff to each other, it could lead to… very harmful consequences.” sounding like she was talking from experience.

“i know,” voice so small, “i’m just scared. a little of going alone to the station.”

“well, why don’t we go after work? i’m friends with sheriff hopper and he’s a teddy bear, he just likes to act like a grizzly.” talking about him with a soft kindness.

you bit into your bottom lip as you looked at her, “that- i would like that. thank you, joyce.”

-

a/n: this will probably be the only joyce request/fic i write. if you request for a character that i don’t write for or haven’t mentioned, i’ll either write for them once or just not at all if i can’t find any inspiration/connection for them.

#erin's blurb request #joyce byers #joyce byers x fem!reader #joyce byers x reader #joyce byers stranger things #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[voidisverytired]

Luka tended to check out sometimes. He'd be fully immersed in a conversation one second, and the next he's staring off into space, catatonic, unresponsive to even the loudest screams.

In his teen years, his mother thought he was on drugs and had him taking a drug test randomly every couple weeks.

And he might as well have been on some type of drug. Maybe it was a hallucinatory one that plagued his sight with visions of Chat Noir getting impaled by his own staff. Or Vesperia getting her miraculous ripped from her hair. Or that time Ryuuko jumped a little too late and was flung into a wall of brick.

By now, he knew the identities of every miraculous holder in Paris, plus some other uncomfortable details. Like the fact that Gabriel Agreste was Monarch, or that Alya once willingly caused an Akuma in her teen years, or that Felix's dad was an abusive dick (don't even ask how that one was found out in the span of five minutes).

Luka had witnessed a thousand different possibilities. Each one haunted his dreams, twisting the once sweet melodies echoed from his life to his dreams into dangerous and violent tunes. Screeching of chords that would have normal people covering their ears and begging for it to be turned off. But no, not Luka. He'd grown so used to the clanging of cymbals that he sat and listened to the sound, trying to make a sense of a beat. A melody. A pattern, so he could better understand.

But he never found one.

That did not stop him from pursuing one fervently each time the screeching chords revisited him.

As Viperion, Luka had seen horrible things. Witnessed things that only he would remember.

Rena Rouge wouldn't remember the scream she let out that rubbed her vocals raw when Carapace had fallen from the Eiffel Tower with no shield available. Rooster Gold wouldn't remember the feeling of having his arm torn apart by the claws of a panther. Pegasus wouldn't remember the feeling of having his hair ripped from his head. And oh so thankfully, Purple Tigress would never remember the way she choked on her own blood when she was stabbed by a violent villain.

It was terrifying, Luka supposed, to be the one who remembered. To be the one who'd carry those screams, those sounds, those sights, to an early grave.

It was utterly terrifying.

"-erion! Viperion!"

Someone was shaking him, Luka realized. When he focused his eyes and looked up at the person who had their hands on his shoulders, he came face-to-face with Ladybug. Behind her, the other heroes of Paris stood, each with equally worried looks on their faces.

"What happened?" He asks, though he fears he already knows the answer.

"We were hanging out, but when Pigella tried getting your attention, you weren't responding." Carapace responds.

"You weren't reacting to anything." Chat Noir was crouched in front of him, worried greatly. He was one of the few present who knew Viperion's identity.

"Sorry." He supplies dumbly.

When he gets no further verbal response, just worried glances, he decides to give them more context.

"When I have to use my second chance during an attack, I usually check out for a good hour. It's best for me to go to my flat and relax, but you guys were really insistent that we all hang out." Luka immediately regrets his words when he notices the guilty looks of the heroes. He hadn't meant to inadvertently blame them. "It's fine, really!" He tries backtracking. "I only had to use it a total of 17… no, that's not right." He shakes his head quickly. "16… no 15 times. That's a bigger amount than last time I had to use it. This guy was hard. In one of the scenarios, Argos got stabbed." And oh, Luka realized as he rambled on about what he had witnessed, he was slipping again.

"Ladybug got her earrings ripped out one time and this other time, Carapace used his shell to protect Rena but didn't account for himself and got crushed by a giant rock. I spent an entire loop laughing uncontrollably after Chat was thrown off a building and hit the ground. And oh, that was such a fun thing to hear. Can someone take me home?" He tries to use some of his still intact brain cells to interrupt his rambling. "I really need to go home or I'll keep rambling and you guys really don't need nor want to hear this stuff. I need to go home!"

"I've got you." Argos steps forward and helps Viperion up. "Your loft is on my way to my place anyways."

—

As Felix, detransformed and wearing some silky pajamas, tucked him comfortably into the weighted blanket and sat by his bedside, Luka recalls a conversation he'd had with Sass after a particularly bad loop.

When Luka screamed that he felt he was going insane, Sass looked him dead in the eye and said, "Insanity is a given for the people who wield my power. I chose you because you can deal with it. Do not make me believe I chose wrong, Luka."

Luka had no choice, really, to lay down and take what the universe threw at him.

He'll wake in an hour or two, screaming for someone— who? He doesn't know— to run, to jump out of the way, to get out of the fight.

He'll spend tomorrow walking around his flat in a haze. He won't remember how he spends his day, but he will remember the bone dead tiredness seeping into his veins and locking him to his bed, like vines made from the strongest of metals.

He'll live.

He has to.

#he means the world to me #i love him #Luka Couffaine who disassociates for hours or even days at a time #he needs therapy #Luka Couffaine who takes medication for disassociating but it does nothing to help #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #ml ladybug #nino lahiffe #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #felix fathom

[blues824]

Can I request the remarried empress with the female Ida Shroud reader.

🎮Both the Eastern and Western empire are ambiented on a European late or post-medieval setting. So imagine ida bringing technology in that time.

🎮Her freaking out because it normally only happens in anime that people get iskaid and now she is here having a panic attack because she got telported during one of navier tea parties.

🎮It took her a while to convince people she is from a different universe and not here to harm the empress but later on she became navier trusted spy.

🎮How whoud they react her unusual looks I mean hair that is made of fire but it didn't harm them and her shape Teeth but most importantly she raw intelligence and her ability to create new technology for them.

🎮Imagen her telling navier about the time she got kidnapped by the ghost Prince and about her little brother who sadly didn't come with her.

🎮Her being the antisocial person like always and getting a panic attack because rattrash won't leave her alone and sovieshit giving her a panic attack because he wants her to his mistresses because of her looks .

I’m going to change it up a bit to make it a tad easier for me.

Sovieshu

You were found in the woods where you were stuck in one of the Emperor’s traps (sound familiar?). His Majesty was completely smitten with your otherworldly appearance and took you into the palace to make sure you got treated.

Once you got to a point where you were able to walk with ease once again, you realized that it would be impolite if you didn’t go and thank Sovieshu. That led to you both getting tied up in a great conversation. You explained that you were from a completely different world than him, as the land you were from was much more technologically advanced, plus your younger brother was back home.

Then out of nowhere, His Majesty asked if you would be interested in becoming one of his mistresses. You spit out the tea you were sipping and ask him to repeat himself, your mental system was fritzing out. Once he confirmed that you did, in fact, hear him right, you refused immediately. You rushed out of the room, actually, hyperventilating and trying not to pass out.

Rashta

She had heard that you were caught in one of the Emperor’s traps and were injured. Her first thought was to fake concern and worry, when in reality she was extremely jealous that Sovieshu was dedicating all his time into making sure you were okay.

She secretly followed him to the door of the room you were in, and she pressed her ear against it to try and hear what was going on inside. Then she heard her mans asking you to become his mistress. Then she had to step back because you ran out of the room while hyperventilating.

At first, she thought you had accepted his proposal until she asked you upfront. You stuttered through your words, but you eventually got the point out that you refused. You didn’t want anything to do with Sovieshu and just wanted to get home. She suddenly became angry that you had the audacity to refuse the Emperor, and she wasn’t helping anything at all.

Navier

You had appeared right in the middle of her tea party. You didn’t look like anything besides what she imagined the god Hades looked like in Greek Mythology, if He were a goddess rather than a god. You even had a golden crown with gems embedded in it, along with a classic toga.

After you explained that you weren’t here to hurt the Empress (she hadn’t told you who she was yet) and that you just wanted to get home from this weird world you magically got teleported to. She gently asks you to clarify what you were talking about, and you went on a nervous ramble how you left your brother behind and needed to get back to Twisted Wonderland

She finds you to be quite interesting, and asks if you would be willing to help the kingdom advance further technologically in the time that you are here. You, not feeling as scared around her, accepted the offer. This bloomed into an unforeseen friendship between the two of you. You would stop by as often as you could and lighten her mood with a story of your homeland. You loved Her Majesty’s smile, and you would do anything to see it.

Heinrey

He has seen you in Her Majesty’s chambers as Queen. You eventually put a device next to him in his bird form and when he let out a squawk, it translated it and now he was scared of Navier finding out his terrible secret. You were smarter than that, so you would always say that the translator was broken whenever Her Majesty asked you to translate Queen’s squawks.

He has learned that you became the Eastern Empire’s spokesperson of technological advancement, and you led a bunch of workers. He also learned that you swore loyalty to only the Empress, so he was thinking that when he married Her Majesty, you might want to work for the Western Kingdom instead.

Once he asked, you accepted his offer. Not only was he going to pay much more, but he wasn’t asking you to be his mistress. You actually had a better time working with him because he didn’t give you strict deadlines and would give you an extension if it was a particularly larger project.

Bonus: Kosair found out about you when his sister wrote to him about you. From the looks of it, you were a great friend to Navier, so you were alright in his book. When he met you for the first time in person, his heart skipped a few beats. You were absolutely beautiful.

After getting to know you more, he learned that you had such brilliant ideas on how to advance this world forward in the technological aspect. The first thing you made was something similar to a phone, so that you both would be able to keep in touch after he was exiled.

When you made it to the Western Empire, Kosair asked if you would be interested in marrying him. You had grown fond of him and loved him, so you accepted. Navier and Heinrey were both happy for you and even funded the wedding. Since he was a knight, he always wanted you to be the one to give him your handkerchief for when he leaves. You even press a kiss on his cheek and he is fired up and ready to fight.

#remarried empress x reader #remarried empress #the remarried empress x reader #the remarried empress #emperor sovieshu #sovieshu x reader #sovieshu #rashta x reader #rashta #empress navier #navier trovi #navier x reader #navier #heinrey x reader #heinrey #kosair x reader #kosair trovi #kosair

[undinegeist]

don’t want to live without you

-xx-

Johnny

-xx-

“Hey.” She speaks first; I’m scared, cold, shaking, outside and inside.

“Hey.”

“How was the fest?”

“Great, yeah. I’m…I’m exhausted, it was so crazy, but it was awesome too.”

She grins, and I melt, though I try not to show it.

“I saw one of the streams…you’re done collecting bras for real?”

I’d stopped doing that for Gretchen’s sake when we got back together, not caring that it made me look uncool; it was force of habit more than anything, plus it made me less of a dinosaur…Y/N’s always had a different way of thinking though.

“Are you disappointed?” I can tell she’s something that isn’t nice.

“Yeah, but…just a little.” She laughs, makes a square with her fingers, sort of nervous, but I feel something warm inside. “I like you, I just…want you to have fun. Refusing bras sounds boring.”

“I’ll…I’ll keep that in mind for the next tour.” All I can hear, though, are the words ‘I like you,’ on endless repeat in my head.

“Cool…I’ll watch for that.”

“Maybe…maybe you’ll be watching from side stage.”

Her eyes glitter, and my heart’s beating so hard, I feel dizzy with it…I’m caught between wanting to slip the words back in and the thought of holding her.

“Only if you’ll let me keep them.” She smirks…and then she’s hugging me; I feel like I could fly, better than any high.

-xx-

Y/N

-xx-

He feels different, skinnier, but underneath that, I missed him so much I don’t care that he’s dressed to the nines, wearing things I’d twist my nose at…I’ll still twist it, but never hard enough to hurt him.

“I…I really missed you.” He has his fingers in my hair, but I don’t mind, unlike with most people.

“I missed you, too.”

He sighs. “Why didn’t I ask you to come with me?”

I move back just enough to look up at him, resting my chin on his chest. “Because we’d just gotten fucked out of our minds and had things to sort out before we did whatever it is we’re going to do.”

“So…we’re going to do it? You still want to?”

If this was before, I’d run from the breaking in his voice, chase it with a high, fuck whoever I could find to pretend I didn’t want him…I know there’s no way around it now, even if it scares me, even if one of us goes before the other…I can never let him go, no matter how hard I try.

“I don’t want to live without you.”

He shivers, moves closer. “Is it cheesy if I kiss you?”

“Let’s give our audience what they want.”

-xx-

Johnny

-xx-

She smirks, and I can’t take it, I’ve waited so long…she moves first, though, faster than me, and it barely seems to matter that I’m too tall for her; she reaches most of the way on her own, and then our tongues are flicking past each other’s, and it feels like we’ve never done this before.

-xx-

Maya

-xx-

Elias sighs, and I turn to follow his eyes; Johnny and Y/N kissing, thankfully not in the limelight this time…the damage control before was the worst.

“I guess it’s finally happening, huh?”

“Did you ever think it wouldn’t? After the shenanigans at the pool in the UK…”

“That was what I thought would kill it. Plus…I thought it’d be Lily, not Y/N.”

I shudder. “Thank God it’s not Lily.”

He nods, but he’s distracted. “Well…I guess he’ll need a new assistant.”

“No, I won’t.”

He comes out of nowhere, arm around her, and though I’m not surprised, Elias starts.

“You’ll be giving me a heart attack, moving like that, kid.”

He’s laughing, patting Elias on the shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be louder next time.”

“That’s the only thing I miss from your wasted days…we could all hear you coming a mile away.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking. “Thanks. Listen…we’re gonna duck out for a minute.”

“To go where?!”

“Nowhere dangerous, promise.” Y/N looks him straight in the face, and that calms him; he’s always trusted her when it comes to Johnny, though his eyes narrow a moment later.

“You’re not getting matching tattoos, are you?”

The look in both their eyes give them away; Elias is going red in the face, and honestly, it’s funny.

“It’s Christmas Eve, we’re in the snow, where are you even going to find someone at this hour?! If you make them visible, how will we explain it when you’re seen together working, it’s…”

“El, please…” Oh God. They look too amused; I’m worried. “Come on. Johnny has a million tattoos, what’s one more?”

“Plus, we’ll be getting them somewhere with restricted access.” He does something with his tongue that has me trying not to laugh - or gag - though Elias only goes redder.

“Not on your asses!”

They’re laughing as they leave, passing Adam and Janis out the door, gone, though Elias is still sputtering like their mad old grandpa…

“What is going on here?” Adam, as ever, is puzzled, staring after them…and their held hands.

“They’re going out to get matching tattoos! On Christmas Eve!”

The indignation. I can’t hold it any longer; I’m laughing as he goes on a tirade, completely unnecessary, part of his charm. One of my favorite things about him.

“Wow. Never thought I’d see that happen.”

“I did.” Janis pipes up.

“Of course, of course you did, my love. So perceptive.” She hits him for his sarcasm, and somehow, he’s chasing her around the house.

I turn to Elias. “Well.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what to do with all these damn kids.”

“Wait til the rest get here.”

He side-eyes me. “You’re the Devil, woman.”

“Nah, I’ll help you with them.”

“Thank you.”

We go to the kitchen, get started on dinner…before long, Vivian’s mother is helping, and then so is Vic; the house is full, Johnny and Y/N get back from the tattoos they refuse to speak about or - much to Elias’ relief - show.

Eventually we all sit down to eat, and it feels strangely safe…a place I never expected to get, with all these people who have suddenly become a better family than the one I came from.

#johnny faust #johnny faust x reader #andy black x reader #andy biersack x reader #american satan #paradise city

[secretaccountlol]

“Occasionally, we don’t get to finish dinner.”

This is part 3 of food days, please click on my profile for part 1 and 2!

18+ no minors! Thanks.

Im so sorry that I haven’t been posting any new fanfic, I’ve just been a horrible art-block. I literally tripped my way thru this whole fic until the end haha. Food days is a comfort fic for me so it’s first I go to when I need to learn how to write again.

are you ready for some turbo angst?

Cw time: angst, a lot of it! Stalking, mentions of harassment, talks about readers former life (as a sex worker nothing graphic) , reader down playing her own trauma, self sabotage n self doubt. Fingering and unprotected sex. Oh! And typos :)

Your reblogs And comments are much appreciated.

3946 words.

Enjoy.

You grab one of the meal prep kits you made out of the fridge, Peter’s eyebrow quirks as he watches you put it in your bag.

“Where are you going hon? It’s not a work day?”

You hum as you grab a bottle of water, “Oh, I forgot to tell you.. I’ve been taking nurse classes.”

You turn to face him, you smile as Peter’s face is dumbfounded, “Why?“

“Uhm, because my boyfriend is a superhero? And he loves to get hurt and refuses to go to a hospital and I can only do so much with the basics- should I go on?”

You grip your bag handles as Peter’s face grimaces, “You don’t have to do that for me..” you sigh as you bend down to slip on your shoes, “Peter, how do you think I feel every time you come home, bleeding out and all I can do is try not to cry as I apply pressure to your wound?” Your eyes lift to meet his eyes, his lips are pressed into a thin line. Your hands grace the knob of your front door before you can turn it you feel Peter’s hand's ontop of yours.

“I’m sorry” Peter’s voice is low in your ear as you let your eyes trace his upper body to his face, though his face was serious, his eyes Fien guilty. “It’s fine, Pete. But I’m not the type to be helpless, or useless for that matter.”

“You’re not useless” Peter’s head moves to the side like a puppy. Your lips press into a thin line, “Plus, It can be useful to know this stuff just for everyday life, just in case. Never know when someone will have a stroke or a heart attack, you know?” Peter’s eyes piercing yours makes you gulp.

“Okay…”

You nod, turning away again, Peter’s hand grabs your wrist twisting you back to face him, “Peter, I’m going to be-“ his lips smash into yours, your hands grip his shirt as he roams your body. His tongue whirled against yours as he pushed you against the door, you try to pull back but Peter captures your lips again making you whimper.

His lips finally release yours, as you try to catch your breath

“P-peter please, I’m gonna be late!” His lips trailed down your neck, giving little love bites.

“I-I’m sorry.. I didn’t- God, I can’t control myself around you..” Peter’s eyes stay glued to your lips, before moving away uncaging you between the door, fixing your clothes as he sniffs.

“I meant to give you a kiss, g-goodbye but uhm.. I-I got carried away” Peter’s hands rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke averting his gaze from yours.

“Yeah, you did.” You speak flatly as Pete’s eyes lower in shame, you feel your heart tug.

You lift his chin, kissing his cheek then giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“It’s much appreciated though, I’ll be back soon.”

Peter waits for a moment, watching you cross the road before scrambling to put on his suit, He was out the window in seconds.

He knew he shouldn’t follow you, he knew you’d be pissed but he couldn’t help it. I mean what was the harm of making sure your girlfriend gets to her Destination safely, wasn’t like he was stalking her,

Cus it’s like chivalry or whatever.

His hands gripped the side of the building before leaping off in the direction you turned, he never realized how quickly you walked when you were trying to get somewhere. He watched as your legs switched left and right, as your head did the same watching out for potential dangers.

You captivated him, you made him swoon, The way you looked at him, the way you snored in your sleep, all of you just made him drool.

He sighs as he watches you grab a quick snack from the small stands that line every New York street before you make your way toward the above line station. His webs shoot onto the top of the train, he crouches to avoid being seen, He felt a strange sense of deja vu hanging on a train.

Soon he watched you run off the train recklessly jogging down the stairs before breaking into a mad dash down the street, if he wasn’t web-slinging he would have definitely lost you.

He chuckles softly as he watches you catch your breath before smoothing over your clothes and walking inside the mystery building.

He could feel the weight off his shoulder, you were safe, now he could leave. But, what about when you get out? What if someone hurt you when you left- no he couldn’t let that happen, not again.

Peter’s hands rest above his head, “Breath, Pete, breathe.” He could feel his body trembling as he took deep breaths, his hands slowly came to his side.

“God, I am so pathetic.” Peter’s hands smash into his eyes before blinking then pulling out his phone.

Me: Hey babe! Wanted to make sure you made it safely.

My love: Hi, yes I made it safely. Thanks for checking on me.

Me: Yay! Do you wanna get lunch when you get out?

My love: sure that sounds good.

Me: :C whyyy you type it like that, do you not lubbb spending time with meee?

My love: I love spending time with you, Peter. You know that.

Me: yeah I know.

Me: what time should I pick you up?

My love: 3:00 pm Gtg class is starting, please don’t worry about me so much, I have a taser for a reason.

Me: Can’t help it, see you at 3:00.

Spidey straightens up, “Enough moping spider, you got a job to do!” With that, he took a leap.

-

Spider-Man checked his watch, 2:00 pm..

“Well, might as well be early..Sorry to leave you hangin’ but I have a date with a smokin’ hot babe!” Peter’s words pierce the webbed criminals with anger as he swings away, making sure to swipe some chocolates on the way.

A quick change in the alleyway, and he stood in front of your building at 2:30 pm, tapping his foot to an invisible melody.

A sudden ring of his phone makes Peter scramble to answer it.

“Hey, baby!”

“Hey, Peter. I’m probably going to be late- the classes ended earlier than expected- Peter?”

“In the flesh, with chocolates!” His hands extend to you holding out your favorite sweets as your mouth is ajar.

“Peter…” You slowly hang up on the phone, sliding it into your purse.

“Yes, my love?” Peter’s cheery voice set you off even more.

“Peter, I never told you where my nurse class took place.” You watch as Peter’s face morphed into horror.

“Peter, d-did you follow me?”

“I-..I can explain?” Peter’s voice was just above a whisper, as his eyes cast downwards.

You sigh as you straighten up, “I guess this means we’re getting food to go..”

-

Your ride home with Peter was silent, all the way up to the front steps of your apartment.

“I don’t.. have my key on me cus I used the window..” Peter’s voice barely broke the silence, you just nod and open the door.

Silence once more as you both set the living room table of food, it’s a practically tradition now. The table was now deliciously decorated with various side dishes and fajita meats.

Each of you reaches for a Tortilla, fingers gracing each other’s hands.

“Sorry”

“M’sorry”

You and Peter’s eyes lock onto each other, hands still hovering over the tortillas.

“Peter..”

“Yes..?”

“I-..I’m” your eyes scan his face, he looked like a hurt puppy. His lips in a slight pout, puppy eyes attached with tears, a new small cut dons his slightly bruised lips.

God, he looks so cute right now. You clear your throat, focus.

“Peter, I-..I’m not that upset at you, you know?” You sighed, your eyes cast down at the food again.

“Yo-you’re not?”

“I-…I understand why you did it, you’re a superhero. People want to hurt you, which means people also want to hurt me” you pause, eyebrows arching, what a sobering thought.

“So- I know why, you wanted to protect me, make sure I got there safe.” Your eyes met his again, Peter’s body was practically hanging on to your words.

“But, you know how I feel about my privacy and how I feel about being… w-watched unknowingly.” You could feel your emotions well up, tears stinging. “I-I ..just wished you’d talk to me about it..” you sucked in air through your teeth, stay strong, don’t cry if you cry he won’t take you seriously, he’ll say you're overreacting, he’ll say you didn’t give him a choice.

“Have I been unreasonable or so weak? For you to undermine me like this, Peter? Have we not always talked things out, hm? I mean you know how scared I am when you go out there! But I don’t follow you around, do I?!” Your words came out in a hiss, venom coated your tongue, it made you want to gag.

Peter whispered your name, softly grasping your hand before you pulled away. “I didn’t mean to undermine you, it-it was totally spare of the moment and I’ve never followed you before, this was the first time, I swear.”

You bite your lip, feeling the metallic taste fill your mouth, “why’d you do it?”

“I-..” you watch as Peter’s eyes search your face, his eyebrows knitted together.

“I’ve.. lost some people, family…friends, lovers- because I wasn’t- I wasn’t attentive enough, and ..some bad people.. took them from me. I just- wanted to make sure you got there safe, hun.” Peter's watery eyes made contact with yours, you felt vile.

God, how could you be so selfish? “I-..I’m sorry, Peter. I didn’t know.” You whispered, you couldn’t look at him anymore.

“Hey, it’s okay. I mean I-I never told you about it, so don’t feel bad. You’re right I should have said something about it..but hey, we should eat before our food gets cold.” The warmth in his voice returned, yours did not.

“I..I’m not hungry anymore, I’m gonna go lay down. Please eat though..” You spoke softly as you rose from the floor, slowly walking into your room.

Your hands shook as you closed the door.

Why? Why? Why were you like this?

“What the fuck is wrong with me..?” You muttered.

Peter cares about you, he’s never once been mean or said hurtful shit to you, never once argued but you have to go and try to fuck it up. You remember your therapist saying that self-sabotage was a thing but you’d never thought you’d do it to Peter, Spider-Man of all people.

You let your fall back onto the door, hard. Before undressing to fall into the bed, clothes thrown whatever to the floor, you didn’t care where. Soon you were just in your underwear.

Usually, you like to fill the whole bed with your body, and stretch out. you felt like you needed to take advantage of it, plus it was fun, made you feel like a little kid again. You never had a big bed growing up, and your adult years weren’t much better, until now.

Something about being in the Fetal Position made you feel weak, tiny, and insecure.

“Stupid..” you sighed. Huddling yourself to the corner of your bed.

“What’s stupid?” You felt the cover dip as he spoke.

“Nothing thinking out loud” you sniffed, sinking under your blankets more, you didn’t want him to see your tears, to see you weaken.

The covers began to shift, cracks of light poked yours before you gripped them, closing them shut.

“No.”

“..I-“

“I don’t want to get up right now..”

“I’m not goin’ to make get up, I just want to see your face..”

“No.. I don’t want to see my face either.”

“Why? I love your face.”

“Because.. I-I just don’t want to, Pete. Please..”

You wanted to finish with “leave me alone” but you couldn’t cough the words up in time.

You couldn’t feel him next to you anymore, you sighed in relief, sniffing. You needed to be alone, you deserved to be alone, you sniffed again as your tears started to flow.

You felt the cold air hit your back freezing you in place, soon your body felt a warm wall against it.

Fingers brush against your waist, sending tingles down your spine.

His lips grace your shoulder, “I’m not mad at you.” You bite your lip, scooting away from his touch only to get swallowed by it again.

His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you completely to his chest, “Mm, nope. I’ll be here as long as I need to be to make you smile again.”

You sniffled, “I’m sorry..” you sob as Peter peppered kisses down your skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You squeaked out, “I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn't, it's okay.”

“I’msoselfish, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You are not selfish, it’s okay.”

“Please don’t leave me, I’m sorry. I’m sorry”

“I’ll never leave you, never.”

Your sobs turned slowly, whispers, then hiccups as you slowly drift to sleep.

-

“Baby..babe” your eyes flutter as you groan.

“Pete?”

“Mornin’.” His hands brush your cheek as you stare up at him.

“M-morning?”

Peter’s thumb softly rubs the sleep from your eyes, kissing your forehead. “Sleep well, love? I got you some tea for your throat.” You sat up as you grabbed the tea, staring into the abyss of the cup.

The memories of you being a blubbering mess in his arms last night flood your systems, you felt like shit all over again, tears silently started to slip into your cup.

“I’m sorr-“

“No.”

You shudder looking up at Peter, his eyes were a brown ocean.

“But I-“

“Stop” his hands gently taking the tea from your hands.

“Peter, please- I just-“

His lips pressed against yours gently, like you were glass.

“You don’t need to tell me more about your past, at least not until you're comfortable enough.” Peter's thumb stroked your lip.

“I-I am comfortable..” your hand wraps around his, kissing his palm. “I want to tell you..”

You watch as Peter chews his lip, “Okay..shoot.”

“I..well. I-I had this customer, he was a regular. S-sometimes we wouldn’t even have sex.. we would just talk, it was nice.” You smiled picking at your fingers as you talked. “He was always so sweet and a little awkward but we all were once, y’know? But I always thought it was a bit strange that all his dates would fall flat. He would say, ‘oh they weren’t the right one’ when I asked. Soon, he asked me out on a date. It was okay, I had fun but he asked me to stop doing sex work which was my only job so of course I said no. I thought that would be it, y’know?”

You sucked in air, “ Of- of course it wasn’t though, to make a long story short. He started stalking me, showing up at my apartment, breaking my windows, even showing up at other clients' houses to harass me. Luckily, some of my customers were well off, bless them. They helped me with the harassment case and even got some of the other girls to testify. He’s been locked up ever since. ” Your eyes peeked at his, “Please don’t think less of me..” your eyes drifted back down to your fingers.

“I would never, you know that.” Peter’s gentle voice made you glance at him once more, watched as his lips trembled and his eyes watered.

You sigh, “ I mean it wasn’t that serious- I-I didn’t get rap-“

“Stop. Stop downplaying your struggles!” Peter’s sudden uptick in voice made you tremble, his eyes softened, lowering his voice. “Stalking is a very serious thing and clearly it caused you trauma. You don’t have to be strong with me, you’re allowed to be weak and You’re allowed to cry.” Peter’s hands cup your cheeks, “Being a couple means being vulnerable, with each other. I-I’ll try as long as you do too.” Your eyes softened as he spoke.

“O-okay.”

“Can I kiss you?” Peter’s lips hovered just above yours

You could smell his minty breath.

“Yes please.”

Kisses lips slotted against yours, hands sliding up and down your torso. “P-Peter.” Your hands fiddle with his shirt.

“Yes, love?” He grins as he speaks, “I-I-! Can we ..y’know?” His eyes flicker to your lips then back to your eyes as you speak, smirking.

“I don’t know, mind telllin’ me what’s on your mind?” His voice was low as he licked his lips, god you hated when he did this.

“Peeeteee! Don’t make me say it!” You whined, your hands picked at the hem of his shirt,

“I can’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.” His fingers rubbed circles in your skin as teased you.

“I-I wanna.. have …sex, please?” Your voice was barely a whisper, your eyes trained on the floor.

“Ooh, she has manners. Such a good girl” his hand gently tipped your face up toward his.

“Of course, we can have sex, thought you’d never ask.” Peter chuckled.

His hands roamed your body, “Lucky me I don’t have to take any extra clothes off, straight to business. “ he snapped your waistband, making you squeal then focused on his shirt and pants.

“I love you.” Peter’s eyes connected with yours, “ I know”

“Do you now?” Pete’s chuckles warmed your heart as he climbed on top of you. “I’ll really make sure you’ll understand tonight.” His words sent a shiver down your spine.

Peter’s hand slipped into your panties, pawing at your clit you sigh at the soft contact.

“So pretty.” Peter’s gentle circles matched his voice, “Do you mind takin’ your bra off for me, love?” You simply nod, pulling off your bra before covering your chest.

“Can.. we turn off the light?”

“Why would we do that?”

“Cus- I’m embarrassed..” you could feel the sweat forming on your skin as you stared into his eyes.

“Mm, why?” Peter’s free hand slipped between one of your hands covering your chest to fondle one of your boobs.

Your mouth makes shapes but only little noises come fluttering out, you pout as Peter laughs at you.

“No worries, I getcha” he winks as your eyebrows pinch together. “Then why'd you ask?!” fake irritation in your voice.

“Cus I like messin’ with ya.” his nose bumping yours slightly as he captures your lips. His hands traveled down again to your panties, pulling them swiftly down as his lips bombarded yours.

You pull away for air, “Pet-” you groan as his fingers enter you slowly, abducting your will to speak. “Sweetest sound I know.” Peter’s eyes were lowered with lust as he picked up the pace. Your pants became more vocal as his fingers pumped, “I-ah! Peter- plea-!” Your hands wrapped around his wrist, you could feel your legs going haywire.

“Please what? God, you’ve never been this sensitive before. Is it because we haven’t done it in a while?” You arch as he spoke, unable to answer him, trying to desperately move his fingers faster, whining at his pace, it was but not fast enough.

“P-please more! Mm- I - can’t!” You threw your head back as his thumb hit your clit in the perfect spot. “Cant cum? Oh, that’s intentional.” His fingers pulled away from your aching hole, your whine of dismay made him vibrate with desire.

“Shh, I got ya” his hands gripped your sides as he lined himself up, letting you adjust to his size. You shake as his cock jerks suddenly, your face no longer controllable.

“See, this is why I can't turn the lights off. I would miss this gorgeous face of yours.” you could feel his cock pulse inside you as he watched your face squeeze together.

“A-shut up, f-fuck me, Pete!” your hands weakly hit his chest as you attempt you grind against his cock, urgent for more friction.

“Aw, so bossy. Your wish is my command!” Peter's lips smacked against yours as his speed made you see stars in seconds. His tongue swallowed yours as you wailed.

“Gonna c-cum already, love?” you nodded as he spoke, tears in your eyes made it hard for you to see his face. “D-don't worry I'll make it even easier for you.” before you could process what he meant, you were screaming his name as he pounded into you.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt his cum spill inside of you, your nails scratching his chest as your head tilted back.

“Oh- God…!” you croaked, eyes fluttering, “ That was..really good Pete.”

“I-I've never come that fast before, I guess I'm a bit sensitive too. “ you chuckle at his bewilderment, tracing circles in his hair.

“Well, it's welcomed. But now I do need to shower to get your cum outta me. So would you kindly remove yourself from me?” you hummed, giving him a smirk.

“I have a gift for you before you do that tho, one sec!” His hands gently helped you off his penis. You watch as he scrambled out the door before producing a teddy bear.

The teddy bear was dressed in spiderman gear equipped with a mask and all. In the teddy’s hands was a box, your eyes lit up.

“I love stuffed animals, Pete! How’d you know?” You faked a suspicious eye.

“Lucky guess I swear.” your hands brush against his as you take the bear into your arms, plucking the box way in its hands.

“What's this?” you hugged the bear pinning it to your chest as you picked at the box, sneaking a glance at Peter who was clearly nervous.

“Oh! Mr. Bear must have grabbed it for you as a gift- you.. should uh, open it!” Peter's hand rubbed the back of his neck.

You giggled as you opened the box, and two beautiful crimson diamonds blessed your eyes. One is a necklace with a dainty gold and white chain the other was a ring with a black band, with amazing little rich blue sapphires surrounding it.

You gasped, “Peter!”

“Before you say anything! I handcrafted everything in a friend of mine's lab, including the diamonds. I got the sapphires from a jewelry store I helped stop a robbery. I-i also made us matching pairs.” you watched as his cheeks redden.

“Peter- It’s lovely. Bu-”

“I-I'm not finished yet. I-...” Peter sighs, “I- put a tracking device in both of our rings and necklaces. You told me you get worried c-cus you don’t know if I’ll come back and I get worried when I can’t be with you all the time. This way we can both ease our worries, plus if you want you can take it off and not wear it if you want! I promise I won’t follow you if you do.”

Your eyes searched his face, his eyes were firm but soft, it made you melt. Your hands took the ring, “So, is this an engagement ring then?” You held it up, twirling it in your fingers.

“If.. you want it to be.” Peter squeaked.

“Mm, only if you put it on my finger.” You grinned as you watched Peter get on one knee, whispering your name.

“Will you give me the honor of being your fiancé?”

“Yes, of course.”

Peter grins as he slips the ring unto your finger, before tackling you to the bed with a bone-crushing hug.

“I love you, Peter Parker.”

“I'm starving, we should eat those leftover tacos.”

Tags: @theorgansarerotting

#tasm!peter parker #peter parker smut #tasm fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #mcu!peter x reader

[topazy]

Hunted

Pairing: Liam Dunbar x reader

Warnings: None

Chapter: 5.09

Liam leaves your side and storms towards his alpha, “What do you mean no?”

“Liam, look at her,” Scott says quietly. “She’s too weak. It will kill her. Plus, we don’t know what attacked her; it could be something that’s already started to turn her.”

Your attention is drawn to Theo, who starts cleaning some of the sweat off your forehead, “I’ve got a confession to make. I found out who your biological dad was, which was pretty easy considering how hard your mom tried to hide the truth from you.”

You give him a pleading look with your eyes, mentally begging him to somehow end this. “You were right, btw. The name you scored off your list was in fact your dad's name.”

No.

“You promised!” Liam yells. “You promised me you’d do everything you could.”

“Which is why I’m not going to do something I think is going to kill her. There has to be…” Scott begins to gasp for breath. “There has to be…”

Theo winks at you before putting on a concerned voice and giving Scott his inhaler. “Guys,” he says, squeezing your hand. “We need to do something, otherwise she’s not going to make it.”

—

You awake with a burning pain shooting through your body. You feel as if your heart and head are about to explode at the same time. The inside of your ears start to hurt when multiple alarms start to go off at once.

“She is awake! She’s awake! Mason, go get Liam now!”

You open your eyes to see Melissa McCall standing over you, adjusting one of the IV drips. She smiles at you brightly, “It's working. You just need to keep fighting, okay?” When you try to speak, she frowns and says, “No, no, honey, you've got to save your strength.”

“He's…” Your voice comes out extremely hoarse and crackly. “Is..." in…”, you start to gasp for breath.

“Shh, shh, please don't say anything else.”

You ignore her instructions and continue trying to talk. “Theo... Scott... danger!”

She leans in closer to you, looking alarmed at hearing the word danger right after her son's name. “He's... he's…” Tears spill from your eyes as the pain becomes more intense, but you refuse to give up trying to warn her. “He... he...He’s going to kill Scott.”

Melissa drops whatever’s in her hands and runs from the room. Seconds later, everything goes black.

—

Your eyes flutter open and the first thing you spot is a figure slouched in a chair with her head resting near your feet. You can only see the back of them, but you already know who it is.

“Derek?”

He slowly sits up and turns to face you. He looks petrified and exhausted, “y/n…”

“Lulana, I don’t like being called that. Kate was the only one who ever really called me by my first name.”

An uneasy feeling settled in your chest. Why did he come? And was he really your dad?

You try to clear your throat but end up coughing instead. Derek picks up the cup of water from the table and brings it to your lips. You take a drink from it before continuing. “Uh thanks, are you?”

He answers before you have the chance to finish the questions. “They ran a DNA test, and it’s a match.”

Your mind feels as if it’s going into overdrive. Derek Hale was your real father, but the man who raised you as his own was recently killed by your mom. That, paired with all the other shit that was going on, would give anyone a headache.

“Why did you come?”

He sits down on the foot of the bed, “Scott called me.”

“He’s alive?”

Derek nods. Tears of relief fall from the corner of your eyes.

“I didn’t know.” His voice was so low it was hardly audible. “I never knew Kate had a daughter until I saw you that day in Mexico.”

“Believe it or not, I’d made a list of all the potential fathers and removed your name from it because I didn’t actually think Kate would go anywhere near a werewolf.”

“I know. Stiles showed me the list in his room.”

“He just showed you his crime board?”

He shrugs, “I might have twisted his arm a bit.”

You had no idea if he was joking or not. Stiles referred to Derek as a ‘sour wolf,’ and he was very aggressive. You wondered if he’d always been like that or if what Kate did made him that way. hybrid. Theo’s voice echoed in your ears, and you knew what he meant. You were a Hale and an Argent.The thought of coming from a proud family of hunters amused you, and you let out a small laugh thinking about it.

“What’s so funny?” Derek asks, confused.

“The Argent family really is one big joke. Our name literally means silver, but yet we can’t stay away from werewolves.”

He stared at you blankly, “Your boyfriend has been waiting outside for days. He hardly ever leaves.”

“Days? How long was I out for?”

“Three days. Chris was here but he needed to leave. He said it was urgent and that he would be back with help.”

You sigh, “is Liam outside now?”

“No, but your other friends are,” he answers bluntly. “Do you want me to get them?”

“How long are you staying for?”

“However long you want me here for.”

The Calavera Kate, Hunters.

A sinking realization presses on your gut, “I don’t want you putting your life in danger by staying here.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, “I’m not the priority anymore.”

The moment he opens the door and gives a nod for the others to come in, Stiles practically shoves him out of the way to get to you. Derek lets out a low growl, clearly irritated when Stiles pulls in for a tight hug.

"Seriously? Are we doing the overprotective dad act already?” Stiles asks sarcastically.

Not finding him funny anymore, you hit him in the arm lightly. Your eyes light up when Mason walks into the room carrying a tray of food for you. “I knew you'd be hungry,” he says as he places the tray on the table beside you. “You had us so scared, Lu, I honestly thought you were a goner.”

Your eyes continually shift between your two friends, Derek and the doorway, as they explain that Theo had been working for the dreadful doctors. It surprised you how natural it felt having Derek, occasionally chiming in. They fill you in on Hayden dying and coming back to life, but each time you ask where Liam was during all that time, they avoid the questions or change the subject.

“Where’s Liam?” You ask.

“He’s coming by later,” Mason says, faking a smile. “I called him. He was so excited that you were finally awake; he almost cried.”

You look between your friends and notice how shifty they have suddenly become. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”

Stiles looks hesitant, “he’s coming later because…”

“He’s coming later because he can’t be around Scott at the moment,” Derek says interrupting.

“Yip, thanks for that,” Stiles says, giving him a thumbs up. “Now your answer is going to lead to more questions that we can’t answer.”

You become irritated quickly as they go back and forth on how much they should tell you. Suddenly, the door swings open and Liam runs over to you. He hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry, Lulana,” he sobs. “I had no idea Theo was the one who attacked you. I trusted the wrong person and almost got you killed.”

You can see the rage of emotions on Derek's face, and notice the daggers Stiles is giving your boyfriend as well.

You cup the side of his face, “we all fell for his act.”

“You didn’t,” Stiles chimes in. “You warned me about him. “You figured it out before the rest of us." He stands up from the chair he’s in, “I need to get going. Scott and I are going to Mexico.” He motions for Mason to follow him and taps Derek on the shoulder, “Let’s give them a moment to talk.”

Reluctantly, Derek stands and glares directly at your boyfriend, who is shaking with nerves beside you. “I will be right outside.”

He slams the door shut behind him. You brush it off and look at Liam, “Where have you been?”

He avoids your gaze, “I went for a walk because Scott was here. He doesn’t want to be around me right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I... I tried to kill him.”

#teen wolf #liam dunbar x reader #Liam Dunbar x you #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf x reader #Liam Dunbar #derek hale #stiles stilinski #mason hewitt #theo reaken #hunted #Liam Dunbar/oc #Liam Dunbar/reader #Liam Dunbar/you

[lightvsdark18]

Twisted Wonderland Book 7.2

(Translation from Gasumasuku Gamer and Cymr)

Alice speaks to Crowley about Malleus being the next overblot, even telling him about her notes on the housewardens representing the Great Seven and the dreams she has been having. But he laughed. He laughed at her and her theory on the next overblot. "Mr. Draconia isn't going overblot. He's one of the most powerful mages, he won't fall victim to something like that."

(He has his eyes shut to take in the information before responding. Finally invited to a party but it's a farewell party for your father)

(He's so cute)

(Malleus's face as Lilia teases him)

(He's aware of the blot)

[Your Secret Is Killing You]

[Another One to Leave Me Behind (1) (2)]

Alice attends the party to get her mind off of what happened yesterday and hopefully talk with Malleus.

(Cater mimicking Trey XD)

(Doesn't look like you regret it)

(600 students plus teachers, that's a lot of catering you have to do. I doubt every student is at the party, but who knows.)

(Lilia wants to his last party be full of people with Malleus there to enjoy it)

(He's not wrong, Azul)

(Lilia, this is the last time you two will see each other and you're just going to drip without a goodbye. Silver is right, it's not fine.)

(I can't stop laughing at Sebek with a mouthful of food)

(That cry sounded weird XD but in all seriousness, him saying they're not friends when they technically are, sigh)

(No, you should never dott anyone, even if they cancelled you. But also, that's scary to have your online friend show up on your front door without you giving them your address)

(What about 1000 years instead of 10,000?)

(Bruh, is Alice some type of roach to you or something?)

(I won't get over Malleus snapping his fingers and it's no longer snowing)

(In my timeline, Silver is eighteen during this time which may push the scene more considering he's technically an adult)

(Silver, honey)

(Maybe using the last of his time to make something worth it in the end)

(A toy became our downfall... Silver has be so confused at what Malleus is saying and laughing about it)

"What happened?"

Frowns at Grim. Rude.

(Lilia, leave Epel alone.)

(Lilia is drunk, that's why he's excited)

(The conversation between Lilia and Ortho is painful)

"Oh, hi Lilia. Thank you for inviting me and Grim."

She smiles at Lilia. "Of course." Then freezes at the flash of Maleficent. Her anxiety bubbles up as Lilia questions if she's okay before seeing blot coming from her nose.

"Oh dear, Kate, you're blotting." She wipes her nose and balances herself against the wall.

"I'm okay, I just need to breath for a little bit."

"Please don't push yourself. Your health is more important than this party. Head back to your dorm if you're not feeling well."

The other three come over and Jack points out her shaking legs, asking if she's doing okay. Ortho suggests she sit down for awhile as Epel comments on her looking pale.

"I'll be fine, I just need to catch my breath. Please don't worry about me."

Ace and Deuce, being one of the six people who know about her blot being a problem again, figure it's time to take her back to the dorm to avoid her getting hurt or having unwanted attention.

(The Malleus stans have a nickname in game, it's canon)

(Trust no one at this school)

Furls brows at Sebek.

"I don't like you, at all."

(Lilia, don't leave without saying a goodbye. Are you trying to emotional hurt them?)

("They" you mean one of Malleus's parents?)

She covers her ears at the harsh whip of wind. She lows her hands and takes a few steps from the wall to see the green flames in the middle of the room, then see Malleus appearing within those flames. A uneasy feeling raises in her chest.

His words has her tensing up as blot runs down from her nose again.

"Malleus! Stop!" She steps forward and is blocked by Ortho.

Freezes up at the words "rapid increase in blot" and looks over at everyone jumping in to fight Malleus. She has a panic attack.

She reaches up to her throat and struggles to breath properly as she felt like she was being crashed. She watches helpless as Malleus summons a ring of fire around himself and sends everyone back.

"Malleus, stop," her voice comes out weak and hush. Tears colored in blot roll down her face as she grips her shirt collar and stares down at the floor. Everyone's voices blend together into a muffled noise ringing in her ear and couldn't understand everyone, except for Lilia's desperate yell.

She snaps her head up and see the lounge turn dark and vines starting to sprout up from every corner of the building, covering the area in its sharp thorns. A sparkling green light appears from above everyone's heads and begins circling around them, then one by one everyone collapse onto the floor. The sound of fade snoozing and breathing fills the lounge and hallways.

She falls on her knees at the spell affecting her and tries to fight against it, blinking her eyes to erase the sleepiness from them. Laugher, then footsteps replace the sound of everyone sleeping, seeming to get louder while she fought to stay awake. She shakes her head and sees a pair of legs standing in front of her, glancing up at the person. Her heart sinks into the deepest pit of her stomach. It happened, he overbloted.

Malleus leans down towards her and cups her face into his hands. "It's okay-" he wipes the black tears from her eyes with his thumbs- "there's nothing to be afraid of." Her bottom lip quivers as a soft cry escapes her only to be hushed.

"If you let yourself sleep, a thousand years will pass by in a blink of an eye." Her eyes widen at those words and open her mouth to speak, to protest, but her voice got stuck in her throat. He pulls her head closer and places a gentle kiss on her forehead, causing the drowsiness to intensify.

Her eyes and body grow heavier and heavier from every passing moment, unable to fight against it anymore. A pair of arms slide under her body and pick her up, cradling her in his embrace. "All of you-" she looks up at his smiling face- "will become the heroes of this fairytale."

The sound of hum fills her ears as his face nuzzles into hers, her eyes finally closing and slowly drifting off to sleep by Malleus's chilling but comforting voice.

[The King of The Abyss & His Dear Princess]

(I'm not okay.)

#twst book 7 #twst chapter 7 #twisted wonderland book 7 #twisted wonderland

[adleryoung]

"Not a chance," I snarled. Engaging in venery with a Sisterhood Floozy would be like walking into a trap! If I was going to prevail, I had to fight her on MY terms. "You barged in, attacked my student, put a knife to my throat, mocked and berated me, threatened to turn me into a mindless puppet, and now you intend to blackmail me into having venery with you? Have you no shame? Don't bother answering; I know you don't. And the very fact that you are trying to give yourself a high seat of power in my future government shows that despite your words, my plan does have a good chance of succeeding!"

"With my help, it certainly would," Lana quipped smugly.

"You would be my loyal Prime Minister, eh?" I sneered. "The same way you were loyal to Estmere? I haven't forgotten that the Sisterhood MURDERED MY BROTHER."

"I heard that YOU killed him," Lana stated drily. "Nobody else seems to know that Estmere died of his own folly. He chose to sit on the Coronation Throne despite being told not to. Anyway, you should understand full well why he had to die. Even if he could have been convinced to abdicate the throne peacefully, there can be no loose ends. Not only was he a terrible Emperor, he was just a terrible person in general."

"He was a cool dude," I insisted angrily.

"Whatever," Lana sighed. "It's a bit late to start caring about him now. And yes, by the way, I am blackmailing you. I need to make sure that you fulfill your destiny. Even if you can do it without the Sisterhood, I still intend to benefit. Think about it: I could just beat you unconscious and take what I need, but where's the fun in that? Plus, it would spoil your looks and that would be a tragedy since your looks are all you have going for you."

"That's ironic coming from you," I scoffed.

"You're interrupting again," Lana scolded. "Since you're such a big grown-up prince now who's learned to care about other people, maybe you would be more inclined to take my offer if I tied you up and stepped out to have a word with that stupid rabbit I left drooling in the clearing. She will still be there. I know how to handle the time-slips. Perhaps I could slit her throat or break her neck. But you know what? After all of your whining, I think I'm in the mood to carry her out in the woods, hide her in a place she'll never be found, and break all her limbs so she slowly dies of agonizing starvation."

"Don't you dare!" I exclaimed.

"Oh, you don't like that? Maybe then you should shut up and take what I'm offering you. Or perhaps I need to pay your little skunk femme a visit. The Sisterhood has been planning this for longer than you can comprehend. We have too much invested to let you screw it up. The only reason you were born is because the Sisterhood willed it. You BELONG to the Sisterhood, and the Sisterhood knows well enough to leave no loose ends. That lowfolk femme is a loose end. What was her name? Vernier? It's a pity; she could have lived out her life in peace, but you made her into a loose end which somebody - probably me - will have to deal with. I could just garrote her and be done with it, but that wouldn't be very satisfying. Maybe I'll ruin her reputation and have her driven out of town. She does seem to have an unlucky streak, which will make this much easier to pull off. Just imagine her dying in an alleyway somewhere in a puddle of her own tears while cursing your name. Before the end comes she'll have to lower herself to doing shadow puppets for a scrap of food…"

At that point I must have had a brief flash of Irenaeid Battle Fury, because I don't remember lunging at Lana and grabbing her. The next thing I knew, I had her in a headlock through the stair railing and was twisting one of her arms behind her back.

"ENOUGH, FLOOZY," I growled. I was still furious but somehow aware of what I was doing. "I HAVE BORNE ALL THE ABUSE I WILL TAKE FROM YOU."

"There's the old Irenaeus fighting spirit," Lana chuckled. "That's what I was hoping to see. Adler, buddy, baby, ol' prince, ol' pal, Your Highness, you and me, we're going places. Keep your mojo and share it with me. You'll be Emperor and I'll be your right-hand ewe."

"YOU WOULD BETRAY THE SISTERHOOD?" I demanded.

"Well, sort of," she wheezed. "Not so tight on the windpipe! We have contingency plans to cover just about every possibility. I'll just have to explain it to them. I might wait until after we succeed and you are on the throne; that will certainly strengthen my case. But in the meantime you can consider me your henchfemme. It's customary in these situations to seal the deal with a bit of venery -"

"FOUL FLOOZY, EVER FULL OF TRICKS AND DECEIT," I declared as I apported one of Burnside's blades from the heap where I had tossed them on the porch overhead. "WHERE WILL YOUR POWER BE IF YOU ARE NO LONGER BEAUTIFUL?"

#furry #adventure #elves #story #plot #cartoon #skunk #tboay #sheep

[dreamy625]

This rockstar life - 3.5 Barnet

Words: 522

Content: A little bit of plotless fluff :)

-----------------------------

Emerging from the bathroom rubbing perfunctorily at his head with a towel, Steve wanders over to his dresser in search of a comb. He glances over to where his girlfriend is blow-drying her hair in front of the mirror. After studying her for a few seconds he asks “Is your hair…” and then repeats louder, “Is your hair getting redder?”

Turning off the dryer, Alice pulls up a strand of her hair and squints at it in the mirror. 

“Mm maybe? The dye’s probably washing out.”

“It’s DYED?!”

“Er, yeah?” She is bemused by Steve’s oddly intense reaction to this seemingly very unexciting fact. “It’s not grey or anything, it’s just a tint” she says defensively.

“What colour is it really, underneath?”

“Sort of… dark auburn I guess? Reddish brown.”

“Oh my god! She was right!” He’s holding his head as if pained, but also grinning. 

Confused, Alice makes a questioning face. 

“Marth, Lorelei, always said I had a thing about redheads. I thought I’d broken the pattern, and now I find out I’m shacked up with a secret redhead!”

Laughing, Alice points out “No, but you did break it! You fancied me as a brunette, not knowing about the red. QED. Unless… do you fancy me more? Now you know?”

Steve considers, “Hmm, about the same I think? But that’s not the point. I fell in love with your… soul, and stuff. And that’s always been a redhead.”

“Oh. That’s so sweet.”

He smiles fondly at her big-eyed Bambi expression reflected in the mirror. “You women with your feminine wiles. Us poor men have no chance.”

“I am not responsible for your gender not knowing about hair dye and Wonderbras!”

“Wonder-what?”

“Nevermind.”

Alice goes back to trying to tame her fringe while Steve, comb found, attacks his own unruly mop. When she switches the hairdryer off again she hears ‘Ow. Ow. Oh god.’. 

Steve holds the comb up, with clumps of blond hair stuck in it, “I’m going bald!”

“No you’re not, you’re just pulling it too much. Give it here.”

Taking the comb, she kneels behind him on the bed and gently starts to tease out the knots. 

“Ow.”

“Shush.” She works on it silently for a few minutes. “It is pretty bad actually. There’s practically a dreadlock back here!"

“Uh huh.”

“It’s all the bleach. And the backcombing. And going to bed with wet hair.”

“Mm hmm.” Steve has stopped complaining and his eyes are closed, lulled into tranquillity like a monkey being groomed by its mate. 

“I could plait it for you, before bed? You’d look adorable!” She twists his hair into a loose rope and tugs on it, turning his head so she can see his profile reflected in the wardrobe mirror. 

“Whatever you think.”

Alice cups her hand under his chin and tilts his head back to comb the shorter section at the front. Steve looks up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, and the corner of her mouth quirks up. He turns to catch her waist and eases her back onto the bed, the curtain of newly-smoothed hair falling around their faces as their lips meet. 

(July 1990)

—----------------------------

This was inspired by the state of Steve’s hair in the behind-the-scenes videos from the Hysteria tour. It looked like he backcombed the front and just left the back a big tangled mess! Plus, I reckon everyone has a playing-with-Steve’s-hair fantasy, right?

Also note ‘barnet’ is English slang for hair

#steve clark #steve clark fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #this rockstar life fic

[therealvalkyrie]

when to cradle, when to pry

Pairing/setting: Pro-hero!Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Summary: As he re-learns the joys of loving you, Katsuki also learns how to help you back on your own feet when you need it.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: reader has depression and self esteem issues, panic attack, fluffy comfort

AN: So, this is a sort of "in the aftermath" look at the relationship in you feel love in the sodium, from Katsuki's perspective. Honestly, I don't know what hit me last night but it just plopped down onto the paper from my brainsicle and I've decided it's worthy of seeing the light of day. Plus, it has the @katsupeach seal of approval and I trust Emme's brain much farther than I trust my own<33 As always, don't be afraid to come say hi in my inbox or DMs or comments, I always love when y'all do that:D Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

prequel: you feel love in the sodium

Two weeks after moving back into your apartment, Katsuki comes home from the night shift to find you crying at the kitchen table. You don’t hear him come in -- don’t pick your head up out of your hands or stop sobbing as he hastily toes out of his boots and comes to your side.

“Hey, what’s up?” He’d been tired after a long shift, eyes drooping on the elevator ride up to your floor, but now his heart is pumping like he’s been doing rounds boxing with Kirishima. His hand clamps firmly around your forearm, to ground himself as much to ground you.

You jolt in your seat as he touches you, letting out a shocked hiccup that cuts off your tears.

“Oh, god,” you breathe. “Is it really that late? I’m sorry, I didn’t want--”

“You’re sorry? Fuck being sorry, what’s wrong?” His tone is maybe a little too sharp, but the way his stomach is flush with anxiety over your blotchy and wet face demands answers.

“I didn’t want--” you start, but have to stutter back more tears trembling on your lashes. “I didn’t want you to see, but I just-- I just-- shit--”

You can’t get a decent breath. Katsuki can see your chest rising too shallowly and sporadically. His hand leaves your arm to twist in your fingers and he finally lowers himself to sit at the table from where he’d been leaning over you.

“Breathe.” The command leaves as gently as he can make it from his mouth. “Don’t rush it.”

You nod, gripping his hand tight and focusing on where his eyes are boring into yours. Painstakingly, he waits as your lungs regulate and start working normally again. Your fingertips are chilly against his sweaty palm.

When your throat seems to unstick itself, you try again.

“I just really hate myself tonight.”

Your words are spoken too softly for their meaning. Katsuki’s never heard something so violent said with such careful reverence. The first response that threatens to pass his lips is altogether too aggressive, and the second would be entirely unhelpful. Four or five possibilities cycle through his mind before one his anger management counselor would deem appropriate pops up.

“Why?”

It’s a simple question, but one he would rather slice his own toe off than know the answer to. He doesn’t want to know why you hate yourself tonight, doesn’t want to hear and dissect the bullshit lies your depression is feeding you to make you feel this way.

But he thinks this is how he gets through without making you shut him out entirely.

Your lips twitch into a smile briefly -- like some part of you is happy to elaborate on how you suck -- before you answer him.

“Because I’m a fat, worthless college dropout with no prospects whose pathetic cries for attention earned her a pity boyfriend who has better things to do than pick her up off the floor every other day. Because I’m an awful, stupid person who does selfish things that hurt the people around her. Because I--” you interrupt yourself with a broken half-sob, half-laugh, and gesture with your free hand to the kitchen floor behind Katsuki. “Because I broke the fucking Pyrex.”

Katsuki follows your gesture, turning to see a mess of soapy water and glass all over the kitchen tile. For a moment, he just stares at it. Your words scatter through his mind until they rearrange themselves into something decipherable.

“You hate yourself,” he turns back to see you biting your lip, “because you broke the fucking Pyrex.”

“Yeah,” you say, looking for all the world like you expect him to start yelling. You blink at each other for a moment, until he bursts out with--

“I fuckin’ hate Pyrex!” He does yell it, but it shocks you so much that you stop looking so pathetic and start looking confused. “Shitty fuckin’ company,” he continues, finally letting go of your hand and standing up. “Says it’s shatter-proof, but look at this shit! Fuckin’ shattered.” He points at the mess, then pins you with the most deadpan face he can manage. “We should sue.”

“Katsuki.” You sniff and run a hand under your dripping nose. “Don’t be sarcastic.”

“I’m not, we should sue for emotional damages. Look at you.” Now, he steps closer into your space and chuffs a finger under your chin. “You’re distraught over-- what? A couple hundred yen of glass? We’ll suck the sons of bitches dry.”

It takes a second, but Katsuki sees the exact moment when the layer of melancholy over your face slips enough to allow clarity.

“Ha,” you laugh tonelessly. “You’re funny.”

“I’m a goddamn comedian. But before we sue a kitchenware company, let’s clean up their shitty trash and discuss more in-depth why my beautiful, intelligent girlfriend hates herself.”

Together, you clean up the glass and mop up the water. Katsuki finishes the half-done dishes in the sink while you go change out of wet pajamas. As the sunrise starts to creep in through the windows, turning your living room grey and breathing into Katsuki a new understanding of exhaustion, you cuddle on the couch and try to believe him when he tells you your brain is a dirty, filthy liar.

When he tells you that you’ve been his first choice since he was seventeen. When he reminds you that you did get your undergrad degree and that he’ll support you when and if you decide to go back to school. When he tucks his body into the curves of you and whispers worship into your skin.

It’s not the last time Katsuki comes home only to have to stack you back onto your feet. He gets better at it, learning when to pry and when to cradle. Learns how to tell you he needs a break in a way that won’t make you feel like a burden. As he re-learns the joys of loving you, he comes to view knowing this side of you as a privilege. To know the whole of you is to be trusted, to be known in return. To know you won’t think he’s weak for breaking down when his own shit gets too heavy.

Nonetheless, it’s not an easy thing to tell if the two of you will be okay. Not for a while, at least. There are moments when he can’t reach you, when he can’t find the right avenue in and becomes destructively frantic to keep you from slipping too far.

You try to break up with him again, once:

“I don’t want this anymore.”

“Bullshit, you don’t want it.”

“You don’t get to tell me--”

“Do you still love me?”

“I--”

“Well? Say it to my face, if you don’t.”

“I can’t--”

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you do. You do love me.”

“Sometimes, that’s not enough--”

“It’s enough for me. I love you. Let me love you.”

“Katsuki.”

“Baby. What’s this really about?”

And there are moments when he’s so manically in love he doesn’t feel real. When it’s just the two of you riding on a speed train through the countryside on the way home from a much-needed vacation. You lean your head into his neck and read aloud from your book, and he tries to keep his head from floating to the top of the train car.

And there’s a moment when you’re standing in the kitchen of your stupid, shitty apartment scrubbing brand new glass measuring cups and humming an indistinct tune that Katsuki feels the gravity of the afternoon he came back to you so fully he can’t breathe. One more day, another hour, if he’d ignored Izuku’s calls, and he wouldn’t have you. You might’ve been gone, too far for him or anyone to reach.

You pause in your humming and place a dish in the drying rack.

“What’s with the face?” Your voice, so blissfully normal and real against the storm in his chest, sends goosebumps across his skin.

“Fuck you,” he says, voice cracking with heatless emotion. “I can’t look at my hot girlfriend?”

That afternoon, he does a lot more than just look at you.

That afternoon, he can tell you’ll be okay.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #fem!reader #female presenting reader #depression tw #panic attack tw #fluff #comfort #comfort fic #bakugou comfort #ah god i keep going between hating this and liking it #just please if it's trash ignore it al;dksjfncs #valkyrie writes #when to cradle when to pry #my hero academia fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #shortfic

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

De(railed) +18

Summary: The canon episode "Derailed" reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

CW: mommy kink sub! Spencer x dom! female (she/her) reader, cum play, penetrative sex, light degradation, praise kink, light choking (mentioned), edging, calling him a slut (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 6 K (this is the longest thing I've ever written!)

Author's Note: Special thank you to @shemarmooresfedora for reading this for me because I was very nervous about the smut portion. And a very special thank you to @notanotherreidgirl for inspiring this idea! this was my ask so yeah, this is a little out there for me so be kind (*dips into the shadows*). Also I either really hate or really love this title :)

Taglist: You can join the taglist here!

De(railed)

Sitting on the train, headed towards Virginia for the custodial interview, you tried to remind yourself what Spencer said to you the previous night when you dropped him off at his apartment. You had his hands in yours and you could feel him shake with nerves when he spoke.

He told you that he believes in you. Even when you think that Hotch and Gideon are sending you out to the solo interview too early, Spencer believes in you. If only you’d believe a little bit in yourself, then maybe you’d be able to figure out a way off this train, but an armed man and innocent passengers proves that a little challenging.

The man passes the train up and down and you tell yourself to relax. In hindsight, it seems like a horrible series of events that lead to the man shooting the train attendant. You’ve done your best to keep him calm until the police can see him off the train. Looking outside, you see SWAT, local PD, and FBI lined up 50 yards from the train.

Continuing to wave his gun around the train, the unsub rants about wanting to talk to a higher authority. To yourself, to wish that Spencer was here with you. He’d have figured out exactly what was wrong with the man by now. For less than professional reasons, you’re forever grateful that he’s not here- that he’s safe on the other side of the train.

“He’s out of his mind,” the man holding a bottle of whiskey says, “You gotta do something, lady,” he says, taking a swig of his drink. Your eyes dart to him and back up the doctor, the unsub’s psychologist, looking for a way out.

You breathe deeply, hoping that the BAU would come up with a plan. Knowing FBI protocol, you expect them to try to initiate a line of communication. Glancing over at the unsub, you think that he’ll want to talk to someone who looks like they are powerful. That would be either Hotch or Gideon. Selfishly, you’re grateful that Spencer still looks like an underpaid TA with a toy gun attached at his hip.

“No! Please, don’t hurt me!” the young woman screams, trying to release herself from the man, Ted’s, grip. He releases her, throwing her to the ground when his phone rings.

Gideon.

On the phone with Gideon, the man demands for something to be removed. You can’t hear what he’s saying to the unsub, but you place the little faith you have left into hoping your team can save you.

***

His vest is much too big for him.

That’s all you can think of when you realize Spencer is the “technician” that they’re sending in. His tie and shirt stick awkwardly and there is a gap in his shoulders around the vest. The straps are pulled so tight that they nearly fold over. His hands aren’t shaking when he carries the small black box, but his eyes look terrified.

You want to reach out to him, maybe hold his hand or brush the strands of hair that have fallen into his face, but you can’t. You have to sit there and pretend that this is the first time you’ve met him. It’s excruciatingly sick and mildly amusing in an equally twisted way. The first time you’ve come to terms with loving Spencer, you both can very well die.

“I’m here for the chip,” Spencer says, holding his hands up, “the higher authorities sent me,” he claims, feeding into the unsubs delusion. You shield your glance, unable to trust yourself from launching yourself in between Spencer and the man with the gun.

“That’s far enough and drop your weapons,” Ted says, holding the crying woman by her neck, “and take that vest off. I want to see you,”

“I don’t have any weapons. They don’t authorize them for-”

“I said take it off!” the man shouts, throwing the woman to the ground.

Spencer complies, taking off the much too big vest and tossing it to the ground. He holds his hands up, playing the part of the unsuspecting underling well. He reaches out to Ted, showing him the tools that he’ll use to take out the “chip”. You wonder how Spencer will pull it off, but you know he will in the end.

Spencer digs into the man’s skin with the scalpel. You can’t catch the sleight of hand, but you know that’s what he used.

“I have to leave, the higher authorities need the chip-”

“Turn it on,” Ted orders, “Turn it on!” he screams, his voice booming in the small train.

Spencer’s eyes dart to yours thinking of ways that he can get out of here. He looks almost sorry, and you feel a wave of intense regret. The thousands of times you could have said those little words seem so simple now.

“I can’t turn it on,” Spencer says, “I can’t turn it on,” You hate how scared he sounds, and you hate even more how you have to pretend that you don’t know him.

“Why!” the unsub yells, thrashing the gun around, “You’re one of them!”

Thinking quickly when you see him point the gun at Spencer’s face, you jump to your feet. You push Spencer out of the way, terrified that he’ll do something rash. You can’t lose Spencer, not when you’ve hadn’t had the chance to have him yet.

“It needs to be implanted to be activated,” you say, “I know this stuff Ted, I’m a Fed. Only me. Everyone else,Ted is just innocent. Just let them go, Ted,” you plead, “Just let them go,”

“No!” he yells, shooting up into the ceiling of the train, “no!”

The windows are closed, but you suspect that Hotch and Gideon have the train surrounded by now. Spencer moves closer to you, staring at the man as he scratches his upper arm. He drops his hand towards yours and squeezes, like he’s saying sorry and saying goodbye all in one touch. You don’t realize this before it’s too late.

“Doctor Brier,” Spencer says, standing up with his hands near his head, “you’re right, there’s more-”

“Just make it stop!” the desperate man pleas, “Make it stop!”

“I know what it’s like, Ted. The voices, they’ve been talking to you since you were a kid. They don’t stop. I know what it’s like Ted,” Spencer says, inching closer and closer to him, “Leo? Why don’t you let him think for himself?” Spencer says, trying to use the man’s delusion against him.

“Don’t! Stop, you’re trying to trick me!” the man begs, whipping the gun around too close to Spencer’s face, “stop!”

You always listen to Spencer. Whatever he talks about, you listen. From Russian cinema to Star Trek to the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture, you listen to him. It’s not that hard and it’s easy to get lost in his eyes or the way his hands move when he talks. But the seconds leading up to when the gunshot goes off, you’re not listening.

Because without Spencer, there isn’t much worth listening to.

***

Your eyes are squeezed shut so when a large hand hovers over your shoulder you jump at the touch. It takes you all of ten seconds to realize it’s Spencer. You look him over, searching for signs of mortal wounds that will rip him from your clutches, but there isn’t any.

“You’re okay,” you say, wanting nothing more but to kiss him or yell at him, or maybe a mix of the two, “you’re okay,” you repeat, not fully believing it the first time.

“We’re okay,” Spencer says, hugging you tight as you collapse into his arms, not caring if the rest of the team watches.

“I haven’t been fair to you, Spence,” you say, breaking from the hug to caress his face. You stop, holding his face in your hands, soaking him in, “you’re not someone who gets strung along, baby. I fucking love you and you-you mean so much to me. And I hate-I hate that it took you almost dying for me to realize that,” you cry, unable to care anymore.

“You love me?” Spencer whispers, unable, himself to care that they have an audience, “You love me back, but I’m, I-I,”

“Spencer,” you tell him, pausing to kiss him fully, “I,” you plant another kiss, on his right cheek, “love,” left cheek, “you,” forehead.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, looking at you with a proud smirk, “I guess that’s good because, I love you, Y/N. I don’t go risk my life just for everyone,”

“Watch yourself, baby,” you remind him, channeling the surge of pure life that runs through your veins, “you’re in for it later, my darling,” you tell him, whispering into his ear so only he can hear.

***

You didn’t even give him time to breathe before you pushed him up against the wall. Spencer’s hands still held yours, you don’t think that he dropped them since you two safely exited the train. He whimpers through the kiss, his breathy moan only serving to spur you on. His hands broke from yours, clinging to your waist. Spencer tries to peel your clothes from your skin, but he's much too distracted by your lips that travel across his cheekbones and down to his neck. He’s breathless and panting, but you don’t let up. If he’s breathing, he’s alive and that’s all that matters now.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Spencer pleads, the desperation in his voice causing you to pause from your attack on his neck, “I-I, Y/N,” he stutters, feeling empty without your kisses.

“I’m not mad, sweet boy. I’m not mad at you,” you say, laying on a sweet voice as your fingers skim through Spencer’s hair. He’s shaking slightly and closes his eyes, looking like he’s grateful to be alive.

“You’re not, but I wasn’t good,” he whispers, “I wasn’t good for you, Mommy,”

You do everything in your power to keep your composure, but after a day like today, you’re ready to melt into him. He might be the one begging at your feet soon, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s you who's wrapped around his finger. He looks up at you, with his back leaning against the wall; his face flushed pink and marks littering his neck.

“You scared me, Spence. I thought- I just let me take care of you,” you request, dropping your hands from his hair and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him to your bedroom. You’ve made it a habit to go to your place after cases; Spencer claims that the sunlight that dips into your bedroom in the morning is more pleasant than his view of the street, but you know he just prefers your bed and the attention he gets at your place.

“Please, Y/N,” he begs, following you into the bedroom. He’s at your heels and burrowed deeply in your heart, exactly where you want him.

You drop his hands, guiding him so his knees hit the edge of your plush bed. He kicks off his shoes and starts to undo his tie and shirt, but you stop him before he gets the chance.

“Let me do that for you, baby. I’m taking care of you tonight,” you say, feeling your heart swell as he looks up at you adoringly, “Mommy’s got you, my brave boy,” you tell him, your fingers grazing over his cheekbones, his nose and eyes. His eyes close as you continue to draw shapeless shapes over his skin.

“Thank you,” he mutters, saying it like a pray as he relaxes for the first time today, “thank you, Mommy,”

You smile at the name, enjoying how pliant he is as you unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie. His flushed cheeks lead down his equally flushed chest. You place both your legs over his body, hovering over him as you straddle him. The proximity eggs him on and the minimal friction near his pants causes him to buck up words. Mercilessly, you chuckle at his attempt to get off. You want nothing more than to put him out of his misery, but watching him squirm for the tiniest bit of affection— your affection makes you nearly as desperate as Spencer.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you tell him, harshly pulling off his shirt as you nibble on his ear. He whimpers out in desire, already unable to form coherent thoughts even though you’ve so much as kissed him.

You stop touching him, sinking down to your knees before him. Spencer looks down at you, his pupils blown and his hair messy from being pushed up against the wall. His breathing is erratic and unmeasured, but he’s heart is still beating. You smile, unafraid and not caring that it breaks character as you give his thigh a squeeze. You bring his hands to his buttons, motioning for him to unbutton his pants for you.

“I can’t do all the work now, can I, baby?” You question rhetorically, quite self satisfied that he nods eagerly. He quickly undoes his pants, kicking the heavy corduroy trousers near your bathroom door. If the moment wasn’t so tense and erratic, you probably would have teased him for his excitement.

“I want to touch you, please? Mommy” Spencer starts, his hands holding your face as you kneel. He holds your face so delicately and gently, it’s a contrast to the sinful way he’s squirming above you.

“Not yet,” you tsk, slipping your finger under the waistband of his boxers. The bulge in his underwear looks very uncomfortable, but Spencer clearly tries his best to behave under your strong stare. You peel back the underwear and let it drop to Spencer’s feet. His cock, now exposed, is painfully hard. He concentrates on his breathing and trying to remain composed as your fingers travel up his leg and towards his groin.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you coo, grabbing Spencer’s jaw and making him look down at you. He lets pitiful whine at your words, “Come on, make my fingers nice and wet,” you order, sticking out two fingers that he sucks enthusiastically.

“What a good little slut I have, you’re sucking Mommy’s fingers just as if it’s my strap, aren’t you sweet boy,” you say, gently resting your other palm loosely around his neck. You don’t apply any pressure, but let it serve as a reminder of what could happen.

Happily, Spencer sucks your fingers, moaning around them and bucking his hips up in frustration. Marred by impatience, you remove your fingers from his mouth and kneel back down on the floor. Loosely, you grip his cock with your wet fingers. Spencer whines at the friction that’s nothing close to enough.

“Tell me how that feels,” you demand, “Tell Mommy how I makes you feel,”

“I-I feel,” Spencer starts, concentrating intently, but unable to truly articulate the passion you ignite in him, “Mommy, you make me feel so good,” Spencer says, finally finding the words, even though they barely scratch the surface.

“That’s all I want, baby. You deserve to feel good. So let me take care of you, my love,” you tell him, watching as he simpers at your words.

For a second there you let yourself think that maybe it’s calling him my love that prompted his reaction, not the promise of his cock in your mouth. You know after tonight there’s no tip toeing around it anymore: you’re unequivocally in love with him and you’re a little disappointed that it took the pair of you nearly dying to figure it out finally.

Looking back up at him, you abandon your plans for a moment. You kiss him hard. Normally, you’d hate the way your teeth clash against someone else’s and how the kiss isn’t really a kiss. It’s hard to pace yourself when he’s whimpering below you as you grind down hard on his crotch. The fabric of your pants provides much needed friction, causing Spencer to cry out in a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. He paws at your work short, silently begging for you to shed your layers as well.

“Good boys wait,” you tell him, kissing his forehead and sinking back down for the last time. You’ll never be done teasing him, but for now you intend to put his needs first.

“Such a pretty cock that only I get to see,” you coo, running a finger up his length, relishing in how he shudders at your touch. You’ve touched him so many times, yet he reacts each time as if it’s the first. He’s leaking precum as his breathing becomes more and more strained. This is far from your first time with Spencer and you’re well aware of the signs of his release.

Smiling up at him, you lazily wrap your hand around him, giving him the smallest bit of friction and attention that he needs to come. You drop him once he’s close to the edge, his pleading, begging eyes turning glazed over when he realizes you’re taking off your shirt. By the way he’s looking at you, you’d think you’d be wearing your best lingerie. Quickly, you’ve learned that with Spencer you could be wearing your ratty college tee shirts and he’d still look at you like you were dripping in gold.

“Mommy,” he pleads, “I’m a good boy,” he says, no trying to convince himself to hold back from his release, “please Mommy. I’m gonna-“ Spencer says, the flush on his face deepening as he throws his head back in ecstasy. However, he summons enough energy and will to reach out and palm your boobs. You don’t hide your moans as he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger. It only encourages him, but nowhere can you find in yourself to care.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Spencer whimpers, unable to hold himself up anymore and collapsing on the bed. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to collect himself. He comes all over your chest, staining your lavender bralette and looking very proud of himself. Spencer learned quickly as well that coming before you’ve even touched him earns him quite the praise.

“Such a good boy,” you praise, choosing to ignore him coming without permission, “such a messy boy though,” you chastise, squeezing his thigh and crawling your fingers up his chest.

“Mommy, please, I want to make you feel good too. I love you,” Spencer begs, his eyes droopy with exhaustion from the long day and glazed over with his orgasm. His words slur together as if he's drunk off something potent. His eyes meet yours, but flit down quickly. He scans your soiled chest, licking his lips unconsciously as his eyes rank over your breasts covered in the lavender lacy and stained with his cum.

“Do you know what good boys do?” You ask, expecting Spencer to answer the question without hesitation.

“They clean up their mess, Mommy,” he says. In a moment of bravery, he grabs your hand, guiding you to lay down on the bed. He twists his hands around your back, unlatching your bra from your body and tosses it on the ground.

Above you, Spencer lowers his face so his chin barely grazes your chest. His tongue darts out onto your skin, licking up the messy cum that fell on your chest. You place your hands in his hair, gripping firmly. It’s not hard enough to cause any pain, but it’s tight enough to remind him to stay put. Spencer hums contently, lapping up your chest, but keeping his eyes trained on yours. You pull him up by his hair, pieces fall over his blissed out eyes. He smiles up at you, his chin glistening with cum, but looking pleased with himself.

“That’s a good boy,” you praise, pulling him up to kiss him deeply. His tongue swirls around in yours and his large hands cup your face. You can feel him moving in your lap, more and more desperate for attention and friction as you continue to hold him off, “I love you, baby,” you say, hoping that he’ll hear enough times for it to stick and for him to start living his life like he wants to stay alive.

“Just for you, Mommy,” Spencer mumbles, already sucking and marking the valley between your breasts, “Can you? Please?” Spencer asks, still embarrassed, after all these months to put to words his desires.

“What, baby? You need to use your words,” you tell him, scooting up in the bed and smirking to yourself as Spencer practically chases you up the headboard, “You need to tell him what you want me to do, baby,” you say, talking slowly as you rub circles into his skin. He’s still hot to the touch and flushed all over.

“I want to make you feel good,” Spencer begs, licking his fiery red lips that are swollen and bitten from your earlier treatment, “I want you to feel good,” he says, attempting to buck his hips against your legs.

“Are you sure about that, Spence?” you ask, teasing him with your wandering hands. One stays latching in his hair, exposing his criminally bare neck and the other sneaks down to his cock, but hardly satisfies his burning need, “Because it seems like you’re an insolent little slut who only cares if he gets off. Do I need to remind you that I have needs as well,” you chide, increasing your grip on his hair as your lips nip the sensitive skin of his neck. He shudders in response, unable to fully articulate a sentence.

“But you’re lucky, you’re beautiful, Dr. Reid,” you say, dropping his hair and letting his head fall onto your chest. Knowing your expectations, Spencer doesn’t hesitate to kiss and nip along your skin. You feel your panties dampen at the sight of him: his hair wild and messy, his neck marked with evidence of your mouth, and his chest is bright red, somehow still flustered and embarrassed by your affections. You find it bizarre that he still doesn’t fully believe just how head over heels you are for him. He’s too good and pure for this world, and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life reminding him just how deserving of goodness and pureness he is.

“I love you,” Spencer whimpers against your skin, his breath is hot as he pants, “but please fuck me,” he begs, flipping around on his back so you can be on top.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy, Mommy will take care of you,” you remind him, balancing yourself so you can hover over him, “Now, I’d normally want you to be quiet, but I want to hear everything. So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me how you feel, sweetie,” you instruct, maneuvering yourself so you’re lined up with him.

“Give me a second, please,” Spencer asks, pushing himself up so his back rests against the headboard, “You make me crazy, I just need a moment to think,” he says, quietly, staring off nothing in the bedroom. You take the opportunity to grab his hand, that’s gripping onto your floral patterned sheets, and kiss his scars on his knuckles. Some are new and fresh, while others are old, from longer ago than working at the BAU. You kiss them over, as if your lips are able to help the evidence of his physical pain.

“You make me crazy too, Spencer,” You say, growing more and more unhinged as he moves underneath you, “I love you so much, darling,” you tell him, kissing his eyes, lips, nose, anything you can reach.

Slowly, so slowly, you sink down onto Spencer. You watch his microexpressions, but you know how he’ll react. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s willing himself to hold off. He breathes in and out, teetering on the edge. You wait for his nod, for his sign of approval that you can move. He whines and peeks open his eyes. Spencer’s hands dig into your waist, his strong, large hands searching for any skin to grab onto.

“Please move, Mommy,” Spencer begs, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to plead with you to have mercy on him, “I need it, Mommy,” he moans.

“Don’t be greedy, darling. You’ll take what I give you, but don’t you want to make me feel good too, baby,” you ask, guiding his nimble fingers to your slick core. His thumb and pointer finger begin to rub quick circles around your clit. You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you feel the pressure build. Between the heightened tensions of work and Spencer's hot breath against your neck, you know that you’ll come soon. Spencer’s breathy moans get more and more desperate.

“Are you already going to come again, love?” You ask, increasing your pace. His other hand grips your thigh, drawing shapes into your soft skin. Following suit, you match his sweet movements on his cheek. His breath is his shaky as you stroke his cheek lovingly, “Make me come first and then, maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me,” you promise, already knowing that you’ll let him come inside you.

“Watch you disappear inside me, baby. Watch your pretty cock slip inside my pussy. It’s just like you were made for me, darling,” you cry, your voice getting slightly breathy yourself. You watch yourself as his cock goes in and out, red with overstimulation. Spencer’s eyes, littered with small tears, looks transfixed.

“Fuck,” Spencer says, “I’m so close, Mommy. I-I, you make me feel so good. You’re so beautiful, I-I-”

“So needy, you’re so fucking needy,” you say to him. You can tell he’s growing more and more impatient by the moment. His hands lurch towards your chest, pawing at your boobs. Spencer’s sloppy movements bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“So good, so good,” he repeats, his sweaty forehead rests on your collarbone. You pull him up again his hair, relishing in the pitiful moan that he lets out. It’s raw and pure sin, it should make you want to fuck him more, but it only makes you want to love him more.

You’re drunk on him. Drunk on his moans and whimpers of pleasure. You’re drunk on the way his skin sticks to yours and how his hands roam around your body, always finding a spot on your torso and legs that makes you approach the edge closer and closer. You wonder, for a second, if you’re being too hard on him. If you should just whisper that little sentence and let Spencer feel the wave of pleasure.

“I need it, Mommy,” Spencer pants, kissing lined up your chest and collarbone. His face is pressed up against your face and moves up and down as you continue your pace, “I-I, Mommy, I want you to-”

“What do you want, baby? Hmm? Tell Mommy?” You ask, your voice sounding sickly sweet. The noise of moans fills the room, Spencer’s moan akin to whimpers and whines and your’s more like praises and words of approval, “you’ve been such a good boy, baby I’ll give you want whatever you want, my love”

“Please, please let me make you come, Mommy. I need you to come, Mommy. I need it,” Spencer whines, looking up into your eyes and latching onto them in the darkness.

It’s sinful how the filthy words contrast with his sweet, shy tones. He looks so innocent, but enthralling with his face between your hands, but his own hands rubbing small circles on your clit. His moans grow more high pitched. You kiss by his ear, ready to whisper the words of approval that you’ve neared your release.

“Oh god, Spencer. God. You have no idea what you do to me. My sweet boy,” you murmur, pressing Spencer’s face further into your chest. You can feel him heave and his breathing grow more and more unsteady, but he still has enough sense to continue rubbing your clit.

You kiss him, wanting to feel him everywhere when you come undone. Kissing him is desperate and full of gasps of air. His skin is so soft as you slide across his mouth, up his cheeks, and over his jaw. His helpless moans spur you on, giving you the strength and energy to thrust down on him another time before you feel yourself come undone.

“It’s your turn, baby. Come on, sweetheart. Come inside me and maybe I’ll have to call you daddy? Hmm?” you chant, halting your movements to torture him a little longer.

“Please, Y/N. Please let me fill you up,” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse and scratchy from being so vocal, “I’m yours. I love you so much,” he calls out, wrapping his arms around you so your chests are pressed up together. He holds you sweetly and you kiss his shoulders and his neck, choosing to leave a large red welt as a reminder for him.

“You like that? Hmm you like if I call you Daddy and let you fill me up? Come on, Spencer. You can come. Don’t you want to be a good boy for Mommy?,” you say, giving him the permission that he’s been desiring all night.

He tightens his grip on your upper half as he meets his release. Spencer’s strangled moans turn into sweet whimpers as he looks down into your laps. Quietly, you ride him through the rest of his orgasm, letting him come down from his high peppered with light pecks along his freckled shoulders and sharp jawline. Spencer smiles into the kisses, his eyes are shut and his cheeks are dusted with a light pink flush. For the first time today, he looks relaxed and safe.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Spencer says quietly, mirroring your motions and kissing your shoulders and neck as you slow your pace, “Can we stay like this. Just for a moment,” Spencer asks, burning for the feeling of being inside you for even a couple more minutes.

“Of course, baby,” you tell him, squeezing him into a tight hug, “you did so wonderful for me. Such a good boy. I love my sweet boy,” you tell him, brushing the stray hairs from his face. His neck is marked by your mouth and his eyes are glazed with sleep and desire.

“I love you,” Spencer says again, his forehead falling against yours and his breath hitching as you move slightly with him inside you, “and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about today,”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart and then we’ll talk about it,” you suggest, taking the opportunity to kiss his lips as you pull yourself away from his lap.

Spencer doesn’t say much in response, but nods silently. He groans slightly as you separate your bodies and he tries to chase your lips with his as you climb out of the bed and into your bathroom.

“Please come back,” Spencer says, sounding like he wasn’t sure if you’d keep your promise.

“I’m right here, Spence,” you reassure him, returning from the bathroom dressed in an old tee shirt and carrying a warm, damp washcloth and a pair of clean underwear for Spencer.

“Can you please hold me? Please, Y/N. I need you,” Spencer says, reaching out to you in the dark. That’s one request you know you’d never deny.

“Of course, Spence. Just let me clean you up and I’ll hold you,” you tell him, gently dragging the warm towel over his skin. He’s quiet as you clean him up, but his soulful eyes look lost and sheepish, making him look smaller and more vulnerable than he actually is. You drop the towel to the floor, not caring that the water isn’t good for the floor.

You lay back down on the bed and Spencer, like a magnet to another magnet, crawls in close. He’s still undressed, except for the underwear that you gave him. His eyes are droopy and his breathing is still shaky, but steadies out as your hands draw circles on his back. You pull the covers up to his chin, making sure he’s covered before you start what you know all too well is a difficult conversation.

“Spencer,” you croak, “Why did you do that? Why do you think that’s okay?” you ask, still trying to make sense of why Spencer would risk his life like that so recklessly. You hold him tighter, squeezing his arm as he breathes out, ready to tell you what he’s never told anyone before.

“Bec-, because- I don’t matter,” he says, the words choking out between cries of years and years of pain, “because it doesn’t matter to anyone if I don’t come home. I don’t have anyone to come home to,”

“You’ve always had me,” you say quietly, “I’m your person to come home with, Spence,” you tell him, hoping with all the faith in your body that he’ll believe you. You hold his hand, weaving your fingers in his. Looking at your hands intertwined together, you’d think that your hand was made for it. It’s a little cliche, but Spencer is the kind of man that makes all those cliches seem like wonderful possibilities.

“I-I, I never had someone before,” Spencer says, “I mean, I had my mom, but it’s gotten harder. But then, then, I met you. And I never thought you’d like me like that, Y/N. I never thought you could love me,”

“Spencer,” you say, twisting around so you can hold his face in your hands, “Spencer, I love you. You are so much more than your job. You’re worthy of being loved, Goose. And I’d spend the rest of my life making you realize this”

“You want to spend the rest of your life- the rest of your life with me?” Spencer asks, sounding like he can’t believe the words that you say.

“Spence, I’ve loved you since I’ve known you,” you say, dragging your hands through his curly hair that’s matted against his forehead, “You would have realized that if you weren’t too carried away with making me your future history,”

“I think I have a habit of doing that,” Spencer confesses, kissing your forehead sweetly, “You’re- I’m sorry that I worried you like that, but for so long, for so long this is all I’ve had. And before that it was school. I throw myself into academia or work because it’s all I had,”

“Had,” you repeat, “as in the past tense. You’ve had some much more than too, Spence. We all love you. Elle and Derek. JJ and Hotch. Penny and Gideon. We all love you, but I love you the most,”

“Good,” Spencer replies, turning his head down to kiss you, “because I love you the most,”

His lips glide across yours, moving slowly at first and faster as he grows more urgent. There’s no sense in rushing through. You could kiss him lazily in your bed all night and continue until it gives way to morning. There’s no time limit, no buzzer that’s going to go off and force Spencer to whole himself back up into his past. He smiles through the kiss, knowing well that there’s more to come tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. His lips were warm and soft, maybe still a little tender from before, but still eager to feel your lips against his. Breathing together, savoring that you both are breathing, you smile yourself, fully ready for whatever comes next.

***

Taglist (not my usual taglist because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable bc this is smut. You can join the taglist here!)

@shemarmooresfedora @just-another-persona123 @folkreid @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @spencersrose @strawberryspence

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #no minors #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut fic #spencer reid x fem reader #sub spencer reid #derailed #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #no minors please