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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Collision Course

Summary: You and Spencer were just bound to collide. Only fate could plan a first meeting that unique.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: fluff, minor car crash (no serious injuries), swearing, sexual harassment (specifically cat-calling from a stranger), mentions of eating a lot of food, implied allusion to sex (not specifically stated)

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my one-shot entry for @ellesgreenaway ‘s 1k follower celebration! congratulations! <3 i’ve had this fic in my drive for a while but i never got around to finishing it until now

Masterlist

The metro was down for scheduled repairs today. JJ offered to bring Spencer in but he politely declined. He figured he should drive his car at least every once and a while so it doesn’t just collect rust in his parking spot.

Leaving his apartment 15 minutes earlier than he normally would to account for his rather slow driving, Spencer cautiously reversed out of his space.

He sighed in relief that he had not hit the neighboring cars. Spencer began to pull out of the parking garage. Unfortunately, he was so relieved from his little victory that he forgot to check both ways when he drove out of the parking garage.

Spencer slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He hit a young woman jogging and knocked her to the ground. Luckily, his average speed was that of a snail so he hoped her injuries were not too bad.

Spencer put the car in park and got out, “Oh god, oh god, oh god. Are you okay, miss?”

“I think so,” you were on the ground, assessing your body for any damage.

“Can you stand?” Spencer extended his hand to help you up.

You carefully stood, wincing a little when you put pressure on your left ankle.

“Is there anyone I can call? Do you want me to drive you to the ER?” Spencer frantically asked.

Your eyes widened, “No!” you stated a little too loudly, “Um I mean no thank you. I should finish my run anyways. I have a 5k for Alzheimer’s research coming up and I need to run or else I don’t raise any money,” you politely waved and took off again, much slower this time.

Spencer cringed as he watched you limp slightly every time you stepped on your left ankle, knowing it was his fault you were in pain. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

“Hey JJ, have you left yet? I need a ride, I’ll explain in the car.”

“Pretty Boy, how was your drive in?” Derek asked as soon as Spencer stepped off the elevator with JJ.

“I got about 20 feet and then hit someone with my car and had to call JJ so not great,” he admitted.

“Boy Wonder, you did WHAT? Are they okay?” Penelope gasped.

“She insisted she was fine but then she was limping away. I offered her a ride but she didn’t seem too keen on getting in a car with me,” Spencer explained.

“I wonder why,” Emily chuckled.

So there Spencer was. In the park in his only pair of short athletic shorts and a hoodie.

He had asked Penelope to sign him up for the 5k as a way to sort of make it up to the woman he hit. Plus, obviously it was for a good cause that was near and dear to his heart because of his mother.

Spencer had to take a lot of water breaks, periodically stopping to walk for a bit.

In the distance, he saw you on a bench and he suddenly felt the energy again to continue running to you. As he approached, he saw you tightening an ankle brace around your left foot and to make matters worse, you had a wrist brace as well.

Spencer considered just leaving you alone but he felt the need to apologize.

“H-Hello,” he awkwardly sputtered.

“Oh, hi,” you replied.

“I am so so sorry. Please let me pay your medical bills and any other expenses that I caused,” Spencer apologized.

“Unless you meant to hit me then it’s fine,” you stood from the bench.

“I definitely didn’t and I wasn’t on my phone or anything like that. I just barely ever drive but the metro was down today,” Spencer explained.

“You don’t have to pay my medical bills. I’m friends with a nurse so she did this for free. However, I would allow you to sponsor me for the 5k,” you answered.

“Absolutely,” Spencer nodded, “And funny story, you inspired me to register as well. I got everyone in my office to sponsor me.”

“That’s so great! The money is certainly going to a good cause.”

Spencer saw you smile for the first time since he met you.

“I’ve never been much of an athlete though. I barely passed my fitness test for work,” Spencer admitted.

“What kind of job has a fitness test?” you asked.

“I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI,” Spencer stated.

“Oh shit, you’re a federal agent? Maybe I will sue you and make bank,” you grinned.

Spencer’s face reddened.

“It was just a joke. You can laugh, then that means the incident is in the past and no hard feelings,” you smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

“Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer, if you ever need a running buddy, I’m more than happy to come along seeing as we both are training for the same thing. But I do have to warn you, this brace is kind of a bitch so I’m a little slower than normal.”

“I can assure you that you will probably still be faster than me with the brace on so maybe it was a good thing for me that I hit you with my car so you won’t be miles ahead,” Spencer grinned.

You laughed wholeheartedly, “See, Spencer! I’m laughing about it so no hard feelings, all is forgiven.”

“I’m just finishing up for the day but I was planning on being here again on Wednesday at the same time if you want to meet at this bench,” you offered.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Spencer nodded.

“See you around, Spencer. Hopefully not in your car though,” you winked and waved.

“Oh god, you’ve fallen in love with the chick you almost killed,” Derek groaned.

“Not love...well, yet anyways. She’s so pretty and easy to talk to and isn’t mean to me after everything that has happened and her laugh is like honey,” Spencer smiled softly, recalling the sound in his mind.

“Okay, lover boy,” Penelope giggled, “Did you get her number?”

“No but we’re meeting for a run tomorrow. We actually met at the park when I was training,” Spencer said.

“So she’s seen you in those short shorts and agreed to another meeting? Maybe you do have a chance, kid, cause you really put it all out there,” Derek smirked.

“Speaking of, I actually need to get more of them,” Spencer sipped his coffee.

“Just go all the way and get spandex. Leave nothing to the imagination,” Derek chuckled as Spencer rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, I’m going to have to hit your right leg this time if I’m going to have any chance of keeping up with you,” Spencer huffed as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.

“Well good news is that was four miles so you definitely will be able to run a 5k because it’s only 3.1 miles,” you encouraged him.

“Technically, it’s 3.10686 miles but I see your point,” Spencer heaved.

“I know a really good smoothie place nearby. Come on, it’s on me,” you grabbed his hand.

Luckily, Spencer’s face was already red from exercising so you weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks.

“No, it’s definitely on me. I know you said we’re fine but I am forever going to be indebted to you because of the incident.”

“Spencer, really just forget about it,” you assured him.

“I can’t, I have an eidetic memory,” he grinned.

“Ah, I see. Fine, you buy me one smoothie but then we’re even,” you conceded.

You were walking down the street to the cafe when you heard a whistle come from one of the cars driving by.

“Damn, your ass is looking sexy in those leggings,” a man hollered from his passing truck.

You flipped him off and tried to pull your shirt down as much as possible, crossing your arms tightly around your front.

Spencer unzipped his hoodie and extended it towards you, “Sorry, it’s a little sweaty but if you want to wear it, you can.”

You smiled softly and accepted the sweatshirt, feeling more comfortable now.

“I’ve got his license plate number memorized and I intend to file a police report. Unfortunately, reports like these usually don’t go very far but I’ll keep pushing it through. I’ll also call the company that was printed on the side of the truck and ask to speak to his supervisor,” Spencer spoke softly after a few minutes.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you leaned your head on his shoulder and sighed.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just doing what’s right. He had no right to make comments about your body,” Spencer said, wrapping a gentle arm around your upper waist.

“Welcome to Y/N’s carbo-loading extravaganza!” you opened the door of your apartment to let Spencer in.

“I brought dessert as requested,” Spencer held up a chocolate cake.

“I like how you think, Spencer. Dinner’s all ready,” you smiled.

“Spaghetti, meatballs, and crispy buttery garlic bread,” you pulled the bread out of the oven.

“Looks absolutely delicious,” he complimented.

“Eating carbohydrates before a race boosts the glycogen storage in your muscles allowing you to work out longer,” Spencer informed you.

“Interesting, I never knew the science behind it but I’m never going to complain about eating tons of pasta and bread,” you twirled some pasta on to your fork.

Halfway through the meal, Spencer accidentally got a sauce stain on his pale pink shirt.

“Oh no,” you said as he tried to dab it away.

“That needs to soak right away. I don’t want any casualties at the carbo-loading extravaganza. Give it to me to scrub and I’ll get you another shirt.”

Spencer unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. You gulped at the sight of him shirtless, grabbing the shirt and heading to your bathroom sink to scrub it with laundry detergent.

“You can just grab any t-shirt from my room that you think will fit,” you called out to him.

Spencer settled on a light gray shirt with a golden retriever on the front.

“Okay, the stain is out! It’s just soaking now-“ you immediately stopped talking as soon as you saw the shirt Spencer was wearing.

He noticed your eyes were beginning to glisten with tears, “I’m so sorry. I can pick a different shirt,” Spencer was already beginning to pull it over the top of his head.

“No it’s fine, Spencer. That’s just my grandma’s t-shirt. I forgot I even had it.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he spoke guiltily.

“You didn’t know, besides it looks good on you anyways,” you smiled, “My grandma is the whole reason I’m running the 5k.”

“My mom has Alzheimer’s too so I understand that it’s extremely hard to watch a loved one go through that,” Spencer pulled you in for a hug.

You cried into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

After Spencer hadn’t heard any sniffles in a while, he whispered, “Do you have any tea I can make you?”

You nodded and Spencer guided you to the couch, wrapping you in a blanket before turning the kettle on.

Spencer answered the cheerful knocking at his front door early in the morning.

“Race day! Are you ready?” you exclaimed.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Spencer smiled.

“I promise we are sticking together the whole time because it doesn’t matter how long it takes us as long as we finish,” you held up your pinky.

“Together,” Spencer affirmed, locking his pinky with yours.

The starting line in the park was only a short distance away from Spencer’s apartment so you and Spencer decided to walk there as a little warm-up.

You and Spencer were doing quad stretches when you saw his eyes wander to something behind you and then widen. His face immediately reddening.

“What?” you asked, turning around to see a group of people with a sign that read ‘Go Spencer and his girlfriend!’

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect them to do that,” Spencer stammered.

The poor boy was so flustered so you decided to take it easy on him.

“I don’t mind,” you shrugged with a slight smile.

“You don’t?” Spencer clarified, “I’m not very good with words or flirting in general but I would like to see you again after the race is over. Maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“Yes but my only condition is...I’m driving,” you smirked.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Spencer grinned.

An air horn sounded, signaling the start of the race.

“I think you’re going to have to catch me first, Dr. Reid,” you giggled as you sprinted ahead.

“It’s in sight, Spencer! We can do this!” you pointed to the finish line in the distance.

“Y/N, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t,” Spencer heaved.

“If you finish this race, I will…” you cupped your hand to his ear and whispered something.

Spencer immediately perked up and started running again.

“Hey, wait up!” you laughed.

You and Spencer crossed the finish line at the same time. Spencer’s legs immediately gave out which caused you to fall too, collapsing on top of him.

“I know I’m really sweaty and gross right now but can I please kiss you?” Spencer whispered.

Your lips were pressed on his as soon as he finished his sentence. You honestly didn’t know how long you had been kissing for but you didn’t look up until you heard one of the race officials shout, “Hey lovebirds! That’s very sweet but other people are trying to cross the finish line.”

“Sorry!” you and Spencer apologized, scrambling to your feet.

“Not really,” Spencer whispered to you and you jabbed him in the side with your elbow playfully, stifling a laugh.

what slightly inspired this fic is one time @samuel-de-champagne-problems commented on one of my posts “i could never stay mad at spencer” and then i thought to myself “same. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if he hit me with his car” and now here we are... 🚙

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #cm fanfic #spencer x reader #reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #ellesgreenawaybookclub

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brittanyslibrary · 3 years

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Small Victories ➤ Levi Ackerman

Summary: The special training course you opted into was fast paced, exhausting, and downright brutal. Even so, you were determined to become a sorely needed field medic for the Survey Corps, knowing it would most likely lead to your demise.

You couldn’t lie, a part of you also just wanted to prove to Captain Levi that you were far more than just Titan bait…

You knew, going into this, you’d be on the front lines. Commander Erwin had informed you the day he went over your file that you would be stationed close to the Special Ops squad; where you were needed most.

You knew that, and yet, as you watched a soldier’s flailing legs disappear into the 10 meter’s mouth, heard his deafening screams piercing the humid air, smelled the irony scent of blood, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d been in over your head.

Perhaps Captain Levi had been right about you.

“All you medic types are the same,” he’d told you the first time he’d ever met you. “Self sacrificial, stubborn, and fucking stupid”

It was then that you decided you would prove him wrong.

You leaned over a fallen comrade, clinging to life despite the gaping chunk taken out of his thigh. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen, openly weeping for his mother as his body trembled.

I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him, I can’t leave him.

The rumbling of titan footsteps shook the ground beneath you, but you knew you’d lose your nerve if you turned to look at them ambling towards you. So, you opted to keep your face set as your hands worked on instinct.

His eyes were wide and pleading as he searched your immediate surroundings for any sign of the Special Ops Squad. You’d been separated from them when you saw the kid, amidst all the chaos, nearly lose his entire leg to a four meter titan.

You were grateful they’d taught you how to slay the ugly bastards, but you could hardly perform your medical duties while killing the titans that were heading straight for you.

And if you didn’t stop the bleeding soon….

“You’re alright, you’re gonna be fine,” your assurances left your lips like a mantra while you wound thick, cotton bandages over his thigh.

“They’re coming…they’re coming straight for us,” he wailed.

“Let them come, but I’ll be damned if you’re gonna give up when we’ve still got a fighting chance” you snapped, tying the bandage as tight as you could. “You’re gonna have to lean on me and use your other leg. I can’t carry you to the cart like this” you informed him.

By now, both of your clothes were soaked in his blood. As he hobbled to the abandoned cart, where your horse was waiting to pull it, you could practically feel the titans on top of you.

You could picture their smiling faces, eager to devour you.

The boy, who’s name you learned to be Asmund, scooted as far back onto the cart as he could with his busted leg. Hope bloomed in your chest as you tossed your supply bag beside him.

You were going to make it.

He was screaming again, but not for the sorry state of his leg. He was screaming your name, urging you to hurry because there was a titan directly behind you and if you didn’t get your ass onto the horse it was going to-

You felt its fingers wind themselves around your shoulders, upper arms and torso. It squeezed you in its palm, causing your eyes to bulge and silencing the scream that sat poised on your tongue.

You were done for, you knew that much. All that was left to do was close your eyes and think of him, the man who would, no doubt, blame himself for the loss of your life.

The first time you’d offered to help the Captain with his paperwork, he’d scoffed at the notion and told you to leave him alone.

You brought tea the next time, and he finally allowed you the allotted space in his office, giving you your own personal stack of papers to date and check.

“Your lack of sleep is going to catch up with you, Captain” you’d told him as you dipped your pen in the ink well. “You’re pushing your body too far when you only allow it a few hours’ rest. I’m surprised you’ve made it this long without fainting, truthfully”

You worried for him the way a spouse would worry after their partner, but you never wanted to admit that to yourself.

“Yeah? So what?” he paused his furious pen strokes to level you with a glare.

“You should take better care of yourself,” you murmured gently.

“You should mind your own damn business” was his curt reply.

You weren’t certain if it was the reflection of the candle flame or the shadows on his face playing tricks, but you could have sworn you saw a blush rise to his cheeks.

“Nice work!” Petra commended you with a slap on the back and a grin on her face. Out of Levi’s Squad, she was by far the most welcoming.

“Yeah, you almost beat my time. Too bad I’m far more skilled than anyone here” Oluo smirked from his seat against a tree trunk.

You’d done well for yourself in training, only having two years to complete your cadet training rather than the usual four granted to everyone else. You were much older than them, as well, and stuck out like a sore thumb. So, admiring your handy work in the form of slain titan dummies, you were rather proud.

“You used too much gas,” Levi drawled, coming up to kick at one of your near empty canisters.

His eyes were narrowed as he glared at you, waiting for a proper response.

“I’m sorry Captain, I..I guess I hadn’t realized how much I’d been using” you winced as his glare sharpened.

“You didn’t realize, huh,” he circled you like a predator, eyeing your taut form as he did so. “Perhaps you’ll realize it when you’re halfway down a disgusting titan’s gullet. Perhaps you’ll realize when you’re stranded in the middle of an open plain and crushed under one of their feet”

He stopped, suddenly, directly in front of you. He was so close you could make out the dark circles under his eyes and the lines at his brow.

“A stupid mistake, I can always count on that from you” he spoke your name as if it were an insult. All the while, his face showed no sign of anything but irritation.

You hated that you cared so much about what he thought of you.

“I’ll do better next time” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“Outside the walls, there won’t be a next time!” his volume had grown steadily, as he was all but shouting now. “You get careless and then you’re dead. You get yourself killed out there, and we lose you, and then that’s another fucking life…wasted”

The others had enough sense to ditch this situation when it first began, which had left you and Levi by yourselves between the trees.

He quickly turned away, crossing the grounds swiftly enough that you barely had time to analyze what the hell he’d just come out with.

The Captain cared about all his soldiers, you assured yourself to quell the pounding in your chest.

It probably meant nothing.

You heard your name again, this time from a completely different direction.

.. The titan’s jaws were just below you as you dangled from its grasp. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t even think of anything besides the smell of the gaping mouth you were about to be shoved into.

And Levi, your Captain, a man who was so gentle if you could just break through the tough outer shell he hid behind.

He was calling out to you, desperation you’d never heard from him before apparent in his shouts.

You caught a glimpse of him, swords drawn and determination set in his grey eyes. He was fast, but you knew he wouldn’t be fast enough.

You accepted this as the hot tears fell slowly down your cheeks.

.. “I enjoy your company, Captain Levi” you confessed to him from your seat at the other side of his desk. The paperwork lay abandoned in front of you, as you had far better things to look at than the ink on those pages.

Levi coughed and nearly dropped his pen at your sudden proclamation. His eyes had grown wider than usual, and he outright refused to look at you, acknowledge what you’d said.

“You don’t have to say anything, I understand” you spoke slowly, solemnly. “It’s just..you aren’t like anyone I’ve met before. You try so hard to shut people out with your harsh words and constant glaring, but you care far more than you let on. I think, I think you’re the first person in this damn regiment that actually gave a shit about me”

You noticed his knuckles had turned white with the force that he was gripping his pen.

The expedition was tomorrow; you might never get a chance to tell him this.

“Maybe in another life, maybe if we had more time, maybe….we could have loved each other” you pushed the seat out from under you, standing straight as a pin.

Once the words had left your lips to hang tensely in the air between you two, you were unable to gather enough nerve to look at him.

“I just wanted you to know that, in case something happens to me when we-“

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you” he rasped, head bowed over the page, pen still gripped in his hand.

“How can you be so sure?” you smiled sadly.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, because I….because I won’t let it”

The conviction laced in his words left no room for you to doubt him.

You’d done your duty, left with no regret about stopping to help that young cadet that had an entire life ahead of him.

But you did regret leaving behind the Captain, leaving him with your awkward confession and never, ever getting to find out what his lips tasted like.

As you fell into the titan’s mouth, you thought Levi probably tasted like the tea he drank.

Everything ached and burned when you came to. Your eyes blinked heavily at a dark ceiling, your lips parting slightly as the warmth from the sunlight streaming in soaked into your cold skin.

You must have been back home, back inside the walls. The thin, white sheets and itchy cot you were laying on was enough to know that. How could you have possibly made it back?

The titan ate you, didn’t it?

“I told you,” you jumped at the figure beside you, groaning as your body protested the sudden movement.

You turned your head slowly, shocked and incredibly relieved to see none other than the Captain himself sitting on a wooden chair beside your bed.

His body was hunched forward, arms folded over his knees and shoulders pulled forward. His eyes immediately softened when you smiled at him, and he let out a ragged breath.

“How?” was all you could manage to choke out. The familiar stirring in your chest had become an erratic rhythm of pounding and fluttering.

“I almost didn’t make it in time,” his gaze fell to his lap. “You were in its mouth by the time I made it to you. If I’d sliced its jaw open a moment later, you would have been down its throat” he squeezed his eyes shut, as if the memory was replaying before him.

You sucked in a breath, wondering just how far he’d gone to ensure your safety.

“You saved me….when anyone else would have thought it to be a lost cause. You didn’t give up on me..” you trailed off as your vision began to blur with unshed tears.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Just when you thought he’d take his leave, he spoke again.

“I don’t know what love feels like, but I know that I don’t want to fucking lose you”

All that brutal training, all those insults when you’d made careless mistakes, all those nights spent filling out paperwork at the same desk, they all finally had meaning.

How could you not have read the signs before? How could you have not noticed the subtle way he cared for you?

You reached a shaky hand forward, grasping his calloused one in a gentle caress.

“You don’t have to,” the promise in your eyes when he finally spared you a glance grounded him.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stuttered, a fierce blush over his pale face. “I’ve never been good at this bullshit” he muttered.

“We can learn together..if you’d like to move forward with this” you bit at your lower lip, face hot and heart lodged in your throat.

Levi’s lips curved up into the tiniest smile you’d ever seen, but it was a smile nonetheless. A small victory.

“Fine, just…don’t tell Hange. They placed a bet with Erwin, and I don’t wanna give them the satisfaction of winning….”

** did tumblr always have this stupid word block limit bc that's whack. I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible without being vague, hope y'all enjoyed !! **

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dandelionflower · 3 years

Text

She sings alone

When they got to the room, Adrien was sitting at an enormous piano, playing a jaunty tune and bouncing in his seat. He wasn’t even looking at the keys, his eyes roaming the room and choosing to stick on-

Lila.

Oh.

Okay, maybe he hadn’t seen her come in. After all, the piano was really big, so even if Adrien was looking directly at the door, he might not have seen them come in.

Lila danced around the room, orange skirt warping around her legs as she spun near to Alya and pulled her deeper into the spacious closet, taking one of her hands and joining it with Nino, leading the pair in a quick-paced dance until she was satisfied that they would carry it on without her.

Adrien’s eyes stayed on her, closing slightly as he allowed for a fond smile.

Okay, okay fine. That was fine. Adrien was allowed to watch his friends! Even if his friend was (ugh) Lila. Marinette drifted further into the room, keeping to the walls as other friends mimicked Alya and Nino’s lively movements.

Finally, (finally!) Adrien’s eyes caught hers and he gave her a cocky wink as the song he was playing changed bit by bit until it was the accompaniment to her favorite pop song; one they had sung together on their way back from their first date.

Marinette’s lips turned up in a fond smile (she really couldn’t resist those green eyes, huh?) as she took a deep breath and-

“Living in my own world...” Lila hummed out the starting notes, approaching the piano with a coy smile, like Adrien was doing this for her. “Didn’t understand…”

Marinette dug her fingernails into the heel of her hand. This was fine. This was fine. Nothing wrong with a couple of friends singing a song together! Even if it happens to be one of the friends’ girlfriend’s favorite.

Lila hopped up on top of the piano, turning her waist so that while her knees faced one of the walls, her torso was pointed directly towards Adrien, so Marinette wasn’t even able to see what sort of expressions she was making.

...not that she needed to. Because she wasn’t. No one liked a jealous girlfriend, and anyway, Adrien knew Lila was a liar! So there’s no way he could be interested.

Lila leaned forwards, recapturing Adrien’s attention from the keys and forcing it back to her face. Adrien tensed in surprise, but seemed to relax even more than he previously was once his eyes landed back on Lila’s face.

Aaaaaand that was that. She needed to step out for a second.

Marinette pushed off of the wall and began traversing through the dancing pairs, eyes on the doorway. She had only made it halfway when Alix grabbed her and began leading her in an odd dance of her own.

“My usual partners are a bit occupied.” She quipped, jerking her head towards Kim, who was trying fruitlessly to get Chloe to join him on the floor. Nathaniel and Max had their own partners as well, though Sabrina and Marc seemed a bit more acquiessing than Kim’s intended. “Thought since you weren’t dancing, you’d like to join me.”

Marinette remembered all the times Alix had protested cancelling or even postponing class dances due to scheduling. During Bubbler, Alix almost seemed disappointed for the party to be over. Even though she never claimed to be as formal as her father, it was clear that she loved dancing in a crowd with only another person as her anchor in the waves of people.

She put on an encouraging smile, not looking at whatever scene was happening by the piano. Alix was her friend, and if she wanted to be dancing, they would dance.

“Sure thing. Thanks for thinking of me.” Marinette could focus on this, just this, until the song was over and she could go, or, even better, join Adrien by the piano.

It wasn’t a problem, until at the end of the song, Adrien’s voice harmonized with Lila’s in a chord that was so beautiful, it shattered her heart in more ways than one. Alix spun Marinette and between rotations she saw how close the two were, and how excited Adrien seemed. She caught her in a dip and Adrien pressed the keys in the final note, everyone separating from their partners to applaud the musical duo.

“That was great, you guys!” Nino placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “A match made in heaven!” His eyes caught Marinette’s and he amended his statement. “A professional match made in business heaven?”

Lila laughed and gave a mock bow. “Thanks, Nino. I wasn’t really planning on singing; after the rock slide accident where I had to call for help in the freezing cold for hours, I didn’t think my vocal cords would be up to it, but when I heard my favorite song start playing, I guess it was just instinct.” She shrugged in a gesture of humility that was about as real as the rest of her.

“Well, your instincts were great.” Adrien commented, standing up from the piano bench and giving her one of his wholesome smiles. “I really enjoyed playing with you.”

“Likewise.” Lila smiled back until her gaze wandered to Marinette. (Of course, everyone but her boyfriend was looking at Marinette (nope, no not bitter at all)) “Oh, Marinette! You’re still doing the costumes right?”

Marinette nodded, once, teeth grit into a smile.

“I found the most beautiful dress,” she spun to a box that was sitting by the wall, picking it up to bring it to Marinette and show her the red silk inside, “and I’d really love it if you’d modify it for me?” She tilted her head forwards and gave Marinette pitiful eyes. As if she didn’t already know Marinette couldn’t say no in front of everyone.

“Of course. I’d just need your measurements and what you want me to do with the dress.” She could be a ventriloquist with how little she was moving her mouth.

“Great!” She pulled out the bottom of the dress, showing off a familiar skirt. It was the dress from the picture. “I’d really like it if you could make it more form-fitting, less poofy, you know?”

“Don’t you think we should ask if we can modify these dresses before we make any decisions?” Please don’t make me ruin such an incredible dress. “Technically, they are historical artifacts.”

“Grace said you could redesign the costumes, right?” Alya tapped at her phone and pulled up a recording she had made.

“Your main job will be refitting and redesigning all the costumes for your friends.” Grace’s digitized voice affirmed Lila’s request.

“That settles it then,” at least one of her teeth must have cracked by now, right? “I’ll just get your measurements and edit the skirt. I’ll need to do it some other time, since I don’t have my-”

“Measuring tape?” Lila whipped out a stylized tape from the box. It was rose gold and was almost calling to her. “I found this near the dress. I’m sure it will work.”

Marinette took the device reverently, running her thumb over the engraved vines on the sides before catching herself and looking up.

“That’ll work. Can you hold your arms out?”

Marinette took Lila’s measurements with a practice ease, and rechecked before typing her numbers and desired modifications into a document on her phone. When she looked up, she was surrounded by boxes and her friends, looking at her with hopeful eyes, as well as a stack of suits of each boy, none of whom seemed to care.

“Okay, what do you want changed? I already have your measurements.” She knelt down and sat beside Lila’s box, letting her friends come to her. This was her favorite part about designing; giving people what they wanted and making them look however they liked.

Rose and Alix both wanted the fabrics from their dresses converted into suits. That was easy enough. Alya found a sweet orange dress that she just needed refitted. Juleka muttered something about “less wide, but still swishy.” Mylene wanted the opposite; to give her dress a larger diameter.

All in all, Lila’s would probably take the longest, because she wanted all the complexities of the intricate gown to be stripped off and for the silk to be repurposed as a cocktail dress.

Marinette nodded to herself and began stacking boxes, looking up at her friends who were still standing awkwardly nearby.

“Guys, these are way too many boxes for one person to carry; let’s each grab a box and take them to Marinette’s room!” Lila chirped, leaning down to pick up her dress, the hem of it dragging on the grimy closet floor.

Everyone murmured an agreement and picked up their respective costumes, filing out the door. Marinette was the last one out, but just as she was about to step out, she found herself face-to-face with Lila.

“You haven’t found your dress yet, have you Marinette?” Her voice was saccharine sweet, but with the masked loathing that Marinette found herself recognizing whenever Lila spoke to her. “Why don’t you spend more time in the closets?”

Before she could realize what was happening, the closet door had slammed in her face and clicked with what Marinette was certain was a lock.

“Oh no, Marinette!” She heard Lila’s muffled ‘concern’ through the door.

“What happened?” Alya’s voice grew louder as she approached the door, or, more likely, Lila.

“Marinette stopped to tie her shoe and I must have bumped the door closed by accident. I feel so guilty.” Sure, and the tears Lila was crying right now weren’t crocodiles.

“It’s fine girl,” Alya reassured her (no, it wasn’t fine!), “I’m sure Marinette will forgive you. Here, give me your box; I’ll take it upstairs while you go find someone who can get her out.”

“Right.” The sound of receding footsteps; they must have left. “Just as soon as I have a chat with one mister Agreste.” ...or not. There was a cheery ring of the phone, and Lila’s smug tone melted into something more pathetic. “Adrien! Come back downstairs, quick! I’ll meet you at the front desk.” Lila chuckled and left with a single knock at the closet door.

...Great. She was stuck. Through sheer habit from akuma attacks, Marinette traced all four walls with a finger, looking for another secret passage, or even a normal one at this point. Nothing, because of course when she’s comfortable she finds a random exit, but not when she actually needs it.

She groaned and fell back against the wall, sliding to the ground and tilting her head back so she could close her eyes and pretend she wasn’t actually in this situation.

The people I’m closest to either don’t know what’s going on or think it’s handled. She thought morosely. So I might as well get comfortable.

Just as she was about to let herself take a little cat nap (she could hear Chat Noir snickering now), she heard a trill come from the piano. Her eyes cracked open and slid to the corner of the room with the instrument, thinking that maybe one of her friends stayed behind.

But no one was there.

Marinette’s curiosity won out and she approached the keys. They pressed down in a few familiar chords; another one of her favorite songs. She wasn’t really sure how self-playing pianos worked, but it must have been ‘programmed’ with some of the more recent pop songs, despite the fact that the room looked like it had been untouched for years, aside from their recent discovery of it.

Shrugging, she sat down at the bench, watching as the keys continued playing the introduction to her second favorite song. She had nothing better to do, why not?

“I’ve got a lot of things I have to do… All these distractions, our future’s coming soon…”

She sang through the entire song, leaning to her left side occasionally, like some other person was sitting beside her; someone that hadn’t left. Marinette closed her eyes and adopted the illusion of company. Blond hair, beautiful eyes, a teasing grin- no a half-smile, like he’s hiding how much he’s enjoying this. Even though he knows she knows he loves it, just like she does.

Just like she loves him. Her grumpy dork. Her Fe-

There was a clatter near the door, and it crumpled, revealing Allegra, leg out in front of her like she had just kicked it down. Which she probably had.

“Marinette? Lost again?” Her laugh seemed shaken, nervous. She had expected to see someone else.

“Something like that.” She matched the laugh; Allegra’s business was her business. Not Marinette’s.

“Well, come on out.” She gestured over her shoulder. “Your friends are looking for you.”

They walked together out of the ballroom and into the main entrance of the building, where Alix and Kim accosted her immediately.

“Marinette! We need your help. Nino’s gone missing?”

“Grace!” Allegra barrelled into the room like a tornado. “He’s here! He’s manifesting.”

Her clipboard clattered to the floor as Grace’s knees buckled. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Felix! He’s here.”

Grace sighed. “Felix is an apparition, ‘Legra. Barely even a poltergeist. He has a mild presence, but there’s no way you could have actually seen him.”

“Oh yeah?” Allegra whipped her head at her, flames in her eyes. “Earlier today, I found Marinette in the hall of portraits. She said she followed a black cat through a tunnel.”

“Well- that could have been-”

“And, and just a minute ago, I heard the piano playing and singing. When I came into the closet; it was just Marinette. She thought the piano was self playing, Grace. As in, she wasn’t the one playing.”

“Felix didn’t play the piano.” Grace reminded her. “Bridge did, because-”

“Because her voice sounded like a dozen murder victims, I know.” Allegra rolled her eyes. “But it was Felix who taught her how to play. Gracie, it’s him.”

“It’s not.” Grace glared at her. “There’s no way he could be coming back so soon.”

“Fine, keep being ignorant. But I’m telling Finny, and he’ll believe me.” Allegra stormed out of the room, turning over her shoulder only once. “Oh, and it looks like Nicky has come out to play, so get ready to handle that.”

……

The rest

@merry-madness @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @aestheticnpoetic @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything @goggles-mcgee @grumpy-kitten-vixen @artemisdragona @lookatthestars1 @demonicbusiness @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @vice-artist

#felinette #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #ml salt #ml felix #ml adrien #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #felix agreste #Felix Culpa #ml haunted mansion #haunted mansion au #yes I did use high school musical songs because I’m unorginal

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downondilaudid · 4 years

Text

Anatomy Lesson

Reader has some sex trouble, out of all people to ask for help, she asks Spencer Reid.

Requested: Nope

Prompts: Nada

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: It’s pretty much just straight smut

“Good sex is like good bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand.” -- Mae West

Your head fell back against the plush pillow with an annoyed groan. You threw the vibrator to the side, watching it roll across the bed, once again you were unable to achieve an orgasm. It was almost always like this, even in past relationships you found yourself having to often fake orgasms. You definitely didn’t have a low libido, you considered your sex drive to be slightly above average, but an orgasm for you was hardly ever attainable, especially not solo.

Maybe it was the fact you had always been a sucker for rough sex, it was easier for you to come while being totally dominated. All of your past relationships had been fairly vanilla, they either weren’t into it or still couldn’t get you off.

You were desperate for an orgasm at this point, were you doing something wrong, was something wrong with you? You had to find out, you had exhausted all of your options. There was one thing left to try, you had to ask Spencer, I mean, he was your best friend, and a genius, he would know. He wouldn’t find it totally weird, right?

You had decided Friday would be the perfect day to ask him, Friday, at the end of the day, where you could avoid him until Monday if the conversation headed South.

“Hey, uh, Spence?” You questioned, luckily, by the grace of God, you were the last two packing up to head home after a long week.

“Hm?” A sugar-crashed Spencer answered.

“I have a question, it’s sort of-Oh God how do I word this?” There was no backing out now, you had to ask.

Spencer stopped what he was doing, his brows furrowed in concern. He laid his files onto his desk, walking around it briskly towards you. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“No-no-I just, I was just wondering” you took a deep breath, letting your words flow together as fast as possible “how unlikely is it for someone to be unable to achieve an orgasm during sex?”

Spencer’s face flushed slightly, automatically stuffing his hands into his pockets, a habit you had noticed he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “I-uh-well, I mean, statistically during- uhm, intercourse, only around 20% of women have an...o-orgasm, and around 5% of women never have orgasms during intercourse.”

You nodded your head, keeping your eyes trained on your desk, straightening a set of files. Well, that was good to know, there definitely wasn’t something wrong with you then. Maybe you just needed a man's touch, and, yes, that is a horrible thing to say. Usually, you weren’t so dependent, especially dependent on a man alone, but you needed some form of relief, and if a male could give it to you, then you would take it.

Spencer cleared his throat, “are you, uh, having t-trouble?”

For some reason you didn’t want to answer the question, the topic was already embarrassing enough, and admitting aloud that you were having trouble orgasming doubled that embarrassment. “Y/N?” Spence’s tentative voice brought you out of your stupor.

Huffing, you grabbed the files shoving them into your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. You turned, continuing to look everywhere except at Spencer, beginning your trek to your car.

You were halfway to the elevator when Spencer caught up to you, his hand coming to lay on your shoulder. “Y/N, It’s nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, it’s quite normal, especially for someone who isn’t in a relationship.”

You pushed your shoulder back, moving away from his touch. “Let’s not talk about it, I shouldn’t have even asked, it was a stupid question.” You stepped into the elevator, Spencer hot on your trail.

“It’s not a stupid question, Y/N, it’s perfectly normal. Out of curiosity, are you just-is it just-vaginal penetration?” The elevator doors shut, and you were regretting ever asking the question.

“Nope, Spencer, it’s not.” You huffed. It shouldn’t be this uncomfortable to talk about your sex life, but this was Spencer we’re talking about. Spencer was practically asexual!

“Maybe you should try relaxing, your mind at least, sometimes if you’re distracted by other things it’ll become hard to achieve an orgasm. It’s actually the opposite for your body, a lot of women report feeling tension, especially in their abdomen and legs during or before an orgasm.” Spencer stated, watching as you walked out of the elevator, following after you.

Since when did Spencer get so open talking about sex? Sure he was a bit hesitant, but, to be honest, you didn’t even know if he was going to answer, let alone in this detail. “Thanks, Spence.” You said curtly, it was a little wrong for you to be so upset when you were the one who asked the question, but you were already stressed enough.

Here you were, one warm bath later, laying on your bed, butt naked, once again.

Still, you couldn’t orgasm. Shamefully, you had even gone as far as choking yourself, playing out one of the dirtiest fantasies you could think of in your head. When that didn’t work you switched to visuals, which definitely brought you closer to the edge, but wasn’t enough to push you over into the sweet bliss

Surprisingly Spencer didn’t say anything about your awkward encounter on Monday, or the rest of the week, until Friday. Once again, you and Spencer were the last two, Spencer had been going over the files from the most recent case, and you were filling out some paperwork, trying to get ahead of the load Hotch was going to give you next week.

“Spencer, it’s over. She’s safe, and that bastard is off to prison.”

He sighed deeply in response, one of his long slender fingers pressed thoughtfully against his lips. “I just don’t understand how I didn’t see it sooner.”

You scoffed, “Spencer, you may be a genius, but no one expects you to know everything, you don’t have to know everything. Spence, you’re going to kill yourself trying to figure out everything. You’re always so stressed, you just need to relax, let go, read a book, or listen to some music, do something that calms you.”

Spencer turned to you, his hazel eyes bearing into yours, “speaking of stressful, how’s your, uhm, problem?” His hands stuffed into his pockets comfortably.

You let out a short chuckle, as uncomfortable as talking about your sex life with Spencer was, the sight of Spencer flustered and stuttering was definitely humorous. “Spencer, stop trying to distract me, you need to stop stressing over closed cases.”

“So, you haven’t cum yet?” Spencer questioned, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

You swear your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, Spencer had never been that forward, especially not talking about sex, and especially not with you. Your mouth fell open, not completely sure how to respond.

“That was too forward, wasn’t it?” Spencer questioned, realization seeping through his voice.

You nodded your head, mouth still hung open.

“And you tried relaxing, but also simultaneously letting yourself be tense?”

“Yes, Spence.”

He went silent for a while, turning around and beginning to gather his things.

And you thought the conversation had ended, and he had decided to drop it, and hopefully go home and relax, but alas, you were wrong.

“You know, I could always, uhm, help you, i-if you want.” Spencer stuttered, his face flushing with an awkward smile.

At first, you thought you were hearing things, that sentence had not come out of Spencer’s mouth. You didn’t even know how to respond, he obviously wasn’t joking. I mean, sure, Spencer was very attractive, but you had never really thought of him as anything more than a friend.

“W-what do you mean?” You knew what he meant, at least you thought you did, but you didn’t want to risk being wrong.

Spencer grabbed his satchel, placing it across his body, “I mean I could help you, you know, help you, uh, o-orgasm.”

Holy Shit. You were right.

“W-we don’t have to, obviously, I just-it sounds frustrating, and I just-I want to help.” Spencer’s hands wrapped around the strap of his satchel, watching you with wary eyes.

“No-no, I get it, that-that’s very sweet, Spence, I just-won’t that change our friendship?”

Spencer shrugged, “not necessarily, Y/N, you’re my best friend, I want to help you. Plus it’ll be good for me too like you said, I need some sort of stress relief.”

You smiled, how on earth did you get so lucky to have a best friend like him, “thanks, Spence, that means a lot.”

“Just think about it,” Spencer said with a smile.

You nodded your head, turning to begin packing up your things.

You ran your hand over your sweaty face, pushing aside some hair. Still, nothing. At this point, you were very much ready to accept Spencer’s offer. Even if it did change your relationship.

Your eyes glared at the screen of your phone, the 11:04 seemingly taunting you, would he even be awake? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try

Y/N: Are you up?

You hit send, laying your phone next to you, you didn’t really expect Spencer to answer, at least not immediately, he rarely ever used his phone. But, like a lot of things lately, you were wrong, because your phone buzzed beside you.

Spencer: Unfortunately, I can’t seem to sleep. I’m assuming the same for you?

Sighing, you formulated a reply.

Y/N: Unfortunately, you probably know why…

His reply was almost immediate as if he was sitting there waiting for you to answer.

Spencer: My offer still stands.

You ran your hands over your face for what seems like the millionth time. Were you really going to do this, let Spencer come over and fuck you?

Y/N: How fast can you be here?

Yes. Yes, you were.

You paced back and forth in front of your door. You had brushed your teeth, and hair, luckily, you had already shaved today. Were you supposed to wear something, like lingerie? Was he even going to touch you, or just tell you what to do? What if he couldn’t make you cum? What if he wasn’t rough enough?

Knock, knock, knock. Three soft wraps on the other side of the door. Spencer.

You sighed, no turning back now. You moved, unlocking the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

There Spencer stood, clad in some simple plaid pajama pants, and a grey T-shirt. It was unusual to see him so casually dressed.

“Hey” you greeted shyly.

“Hey,” Spencer said, stepping into your apartment.

“S-So how does this work? How do you want to do this?” You questioned, gulping nervously.

Spencer chuckled surprisingly calm, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Y/N. This is about you, helping you get some relief.”

You smiled, biting your lip slightly, you had zero clue where Spencer’s newfound confidence was coming from, but you were enjoying it. “Well, I don’t know, I’m pretty much okay with anything, I guess.”

“How do you usually like to have sex, rough, soft, both? What gets you off Y/N, what turns you on?” Spencer stepped closer to you, his voice dropping an octave.

Your breath hitched in your throat, who knew Spencer had such a dirty mouth? “I-uh, well…” you trailed off.

Spencer moved forward once again, his large hand pushing a strand of hair out of your face, “something tells me you like it rough, you like to be dominated, totally fucked into oblivion.”

The room seemed to spin, and your lip caught between your teeth, at this point, you weren’t even sure if this was Spencer? Had you just let a random man into your apartment? Did an alien infest Spencer’s body and now it was here to kill you?

Spencer tucked the strand of hair behind your ear, but his hand continued moving, playing with the hair at the back of your head. Then in one swift tug, your head was yanked back, neck exposed. You let out a yelp, digging your teeth deeper into your lip. “Am I right?” He questioned, his hazel eyes now a deep brown with lust. His other hand ran a finger up your neck, watching you shiver.

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t, somehow, it almost felt foreign to move your mouth, if he didn’t have you convinced before, he definitely did now. Maybe Spencer could make you cum, and maybe multiple times.

He tugged on your hair harshly once again, causing you to release a low groan. Spencer leaned in closer, placing his head next to your ear, whispering lowly “in case you can’t tell, I’m looking for an answer, sweetheart.” His finger trailed to the base of your neck, flattening his palm to run it up to your neck once again, his hand wrapping around the sides of your neck.

You whimpered lightly, letting your hands grip his wrist for support. Without thinking you breathed out a response, “yes, yes sir, you’re right.”

Spencer pulled his head back from your face, his dark eyes making contact with yours. “Mhm, good girl.” Spencer’s voice was low, and gravely, obviously, he seemed to enjoy this just as much as you did. His hand released your neck, shifting slightly so he could run his thumb over your bottom lip.

Once again, almost out of instinct, you took his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. If someone had asked what your plans were for tonight, never in your life would you think to respond “inviting Spencer Reid over to my house at 11 o'clock at night, then letting him fuck me.”

Spencer groaned lightly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, dragging it down your chin, wiping off the saliva. He brought his other hand up to cup your face gently, his eyes darting down to your lips. Taking the initiative, you stood on your tiptoes, bringing your lips up to his soft pink ones. Your mouths moved in sync as if this were an everyday occurrence.

You both pulled away, chests heaving for air. “Y-you’re sure about this?” Spencer questioned, concern filling his eyes.

You giggled, Spencer would never not be a gentleman, “I’m sure, Spence. I need this, and you need some stress relief, and if it’ll benefit us both, why not?”

Spencer chuckled lightly, “okay.”

Smiling, “okay” you responded.

“Is there-you know, anything that I shouldn’t do, things you aren’t comfortable with?”

You let yourself think for a moment, was there anything you weren’t comfortable with? You were very explorational with your sex life, and you trusted Spencer. “Not really, Spence. Just, do what you think will make me cum.”

Once again, the predatory look clouded over Spencer’s eyes, his lips curling into a smirk. “That's not my name, sweetheart.” He growled.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your thighs rubbing together for some sort of friction. “Sorry...sir.” You were slightly hesitant, you had already called him sir, but you weren’t sure if it was the name he was looking for.

A smack rang through the air and a stinging spread through your ass. Your body jerked forward pressing further into his, “shit! Sorry, daddy!” You cried, your eyes snapping open to watch his reaction. The daddy had slipped out, you didn’t know if Spencer would be weirded out, or into it, hopefully, the latter.

Spencer’s eyes widened, apparently, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. Before you could correct yourself, one of his hands gripped your hips, roughly pulling you into him, and the other pulled your head to him, smashing his lips against yours. You moaned into the kiss, your hands wrapping around his torso, trailing up his back and into his long hair, tugging at it. He groaned against your lips, his head falling back slightly, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck, Y/N, not what I was looking for, but, I definitely enjoyed it.” Spencer groaned out, his hands traveling your sides. Yet, you longed for more, you longed to feel his skin against yours, the weight of his hips between your legs.

You peppered kisses over his neck, relishing in the way his hands felt against your body. Spencer groaned lightly as you sucked at a spot at the base of his neck. His hands dug into your hips harshly, and you whimpered slightly at the pain. With a rough shove, Spencer pushed you away from him, both of you panting.

“I want you on the bed, naked, don’t touch yourself, just wait for daddy,” Spencer said, his voice dripping with an authority he only ever used in the interrogation room, and God did you love it.

You nodded your head in understanding, turning to walk to the bedroom. Once inside, the nerves hit, you were really doing this, you were actually going to fuck Spencer, and hopefully cum. Your shirt hit the floor first, the cool air causing your nipples to harden since you had opted not to wear a bra. Your leggings came off next, with only a little struggle due to the slight sweat that came with being aroused. Lastly, your thin lace thong, which you made sure to drop a little closer to the doorway, just so Spencer would notice it first thing when he walked into the room.

Spencer walked down the short hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet, alerting you of his approach. Quickly you sat on the bed, both legs and arms crossed in a means of covering yourself. As excited as you were to cum, that didn��t knock the anxiety of Spencer seeing your naked body.

Spencer appeared in the doorway, his teeth immediately biting down on his lip at the sight of you. He took slow steps towards you, maintaining eye contact the whole way. He crouched in front of you so his face was level with yours. His hands ran over your arms, uncrossing them gently before doing the same with your legs. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

A blush covered your face, it was incredible how quickly he could switch from domineering to sweet. Spencer leaned in, peppering kisses over your neck. His arms were placed on either side of you, his mouth working sinfully.

Your head leaned back with a breathy moan, giving him better access to your neck. Spencer's mouth worked over your collarbone, beginning to leave open-mouthed kisses in the valley of your breasts. “Such pretty tits,” he mumbled against your skin, letting one of his hands reach up and palm your breast. Your back arched into his touch, his warm skin against yours.

You brought your head upright, watching as he took one of your perky nipples into his pretty pink lips. “Fuck, Spence” you moaned out, placing your hand on the back of his head to run through his hair. Spencer’s teeth lightly grabbed your nipple, pulling his head back, tugging sharply. “Shit! Daddy, I meant daddy.” You corrected breathily.

Spencer’s mouth released your nipple, his head coming up to yours for a sloppy kiss. He pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. He chuckled lightly, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip to break it. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

You smiled, could this man get any more polite? “Yes, please just do something.” You begged.

“Ask and you shall receive” Spencer answered, a hint of playfulness in his voice. He moved slightly, situating himself on his knees. You bit your lip softly, wishing this intimate moment could last forever. His large hands rested on your knees, spreading your legs. He chuckled, “Mhm, so wet for me and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your head tilted back slightly, ecstasy running through your body at his words. One of his hands trailed up your leg, stopping to rub soft circles around your clit. You moaned lightly, one of your hands placed behind you to keep your body upright, the other on the back of Spencer’s head playing with his hair. His pace sped up slightly, and you bucked your hips forward, aching for more. “Please, please, I need more.” You whined.

“Patience, love” despite his words, his pace sped up again, and your head tilted further back with a loud moan. “There you go, sweetheart, enjoy it.” He removed his thumb, and before you could complain, it was quickly replaced by his tongue, kitten licking your clit slowly.

You groaned lightly, the hand in his hair tightening its grip. “Yes, daddy, fuck.”

Spencer’s tongue sped up, his eyes gazing up at you, watching you squirm with pleasure. Spencer’s hand on your knee trailed up your thigh, his fingertips running up and down your lips.

You looked down at him, a whimper escaping your mouth at the sight. His hand parted your lips, pushing a finger into your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Spencer.” He didn’t correct you this time, instead, he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking lightly, while his finger began slow strokes in and out of your cunt.

A loud moan escaped your lips, your hips rocking lightly against his face. The tip of his tongue ran lightly over your clit, and his finger picked up the pace. “Mhm, yes, daddy, just like that.” Your hand tugged harshly at his hair, and you were sure it had to hurt.

Spencer’s lips released your clit with a pop, “are you close, love?” He questioned, a lust-hungry look in his eyes.

You nodded your head vigorously, “yes, so, close, please-just-please.” You could feel it, the knot building rapidly in your stomach, the tension in your legs. Spencer slipped another finger into your pussy, crooking them slightly, his pace becoming ruthless, hitting a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed. His lips wrapped around your clit again, this time sucking harshly, watching as your thighs shook around his head and your back arched, your hips thrusting into his face.

You let out a loud cry, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you came. Your toes curled, breath hitched, and your thighs clamped down on Spencer’s head, whimpers and moans leaving your mouth. It was like pure bliss, and you had never been more thankful for Spencer in your life.

Spencer’s mouth and fingers worked you through your orgasm, only slowing down when your chest began to heave for the breath you lacked. His lips popped off your clit, and his drenched fingers slid out of your pussy. “You made a mess, baby.”

You looked down at him, and never had you seen a more beautiful sight, his hair was tousled, and his chin was covered in your arousal. He brought his fingers to his lips, taking them in his mouth, cleaning off your arousal. You moaned at the sight alone, still slightly out of breath. Spencer pulled his fingers out of his mouth, placing his hands at your sides. He pushed himself back up onto his feet. “You want me to fuck you?” He asked, his voice low and strained, you could see why his erection was visible through his pants.

Your mouth hung open, you had just come, but somehow, your body longed for more, to feel his cock inside you. You nodded your head, your eyes pleading with his. His hand trailed up your side, sliding over your breast and up to your neck, choking you lightly. “Use your words, sweetheart.” He teased.

“Yes, yes, please fuck me, daddy.” You squirmed in his grip, body aching for him.

The hand on your neck pushed you back so you were lying flat against the bed. Spencer released your neck, quickly beginning to shed his clothes. You watched with hooded eyes, your thighs rubbing together for some friction. Once he was fully unclothed, he was on you, his mouth catching yours in a feverish kiss. Your hands wrapped around his torso, nails clawing down his back. He groaned at the pain, “ready for me to fuck you?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck me!” You groaned, reaching your hand in between the two of you to pump his cock. He moaned loudly in your ear, and you swear it was like you had died and gone to heaven. In one swift motion, he snapped his hips forward, burying his cock in you. You yelped, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your nails scratched down his back once again as he bottomed out, slamming back into you setting a brutal pace.

“Fuck, you’re so tight for me, so perfect.” He groaned out. He stopped momentarily, his hands grabbed your thighs, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders. He pounded into you, this time balls deep. Your hands left his back, moving to grab your breasts, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

His hand shot up, wrapping around your neck lightly, causing your already dizzy head to spin more. Groans and curses left Spencer’s mouth, a thin sheen of sweat coating his tan skin. He looked like a God above you, and you had no idea how you got so lucky as to fuck him.

“Harder” you groaned out. Your hips thrust up to meet his, both of you working aggressively towards your orgasms. Spencer complied, his head falling back with a groan as he rammed into you. You screamed, eyes crossing as his cock brushed over your g-spot, your cunt clamping down onto his cock. “Fuck! Right there, Spencer, God, yes!”

“Oh, God, Y/N, such a perfect little slut for me.” He growled, his breath coming out in short pants. Incomprehensible moans and cries of Spencer's name left your lips.

Your hand on your breast crept up to Spencer’s hand around your neck, wrapping around his wrist. “I’m so close” you managed to groan out.

“Fuck, me too.” Spencer moaned, his voice deep and gravely. Your skin slapped against his with each thrust, the sound filling your bedroom. “Rub your clit” Spencer commanded, his hand held your hip in a harsh grip, which would definitely leave bruises.

You nodded, as best as you could with his large hand wrapped around your neck. You reached your hand down, using two fingers to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit. “I-I’m gonna cum.”

Spencer moaned above you, his eyes shutting, and his teeth biting down on his perfect lips. “Fuck, cum, cum for me.” He leaned closer into you, his swollen mouth capturing yours in a kiss. You pressed your lips desperately against his, teeth clashing sloppily.

You broke the kiss with a moan, your head falling back against the bed, and your back arching. The hand on his wrist squeezed harder, “tighter, tighter.” You cried, signaling for him to cut off more of your circulation. Without question, his hand tightened to the perfect pressure, and it was all you needed to send you over the edge into pure bliss. You came with a loud scream, that was sure to alert the neighbors, and your walls fluttered around Spencer’s cock, tears of pleasure flowing freely down your face. Everything in your body tensed, and your eyes rolled so far into the back of your head you’re surprised they didn’t get stuck there.

Your orgasm sent Spencer into his own, his head falling back with a deep guttural groan, his hands on your body tightening their grip. His body stilled, his cock buried deep within you, twitching and releasing his cum. “Fuck, Y/N, you perfect slut, ugh.”

Spencer’s hand released your neck, falling onto your hip. You gulped down the air like a fish, your hand releasing his wrist and coming up to rub your sore neck. Spencer pushed your legs off his shoulders, and his body collapsed onto yours, both of you completely wrecked.

You felt his hot breath against your neck, both of you panting like dogs. You could feel the sweat running down your forehead, mixing with the tears on your face. Your eyes were still closed, your body still coming down from it’s high. At that moment you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, not just because you were exhausted, but because you could wrap around Spencer like a sloth. You laughed lightly, running one of your hands through Spencer’s hair. “That was amazing” you breathed out.

Spencer chuckled into your neck, “I knew I could make you cum.” He pulled back, hovering on his forearms above you.

You giggled at his words, your hands trailing down his back, to his tense shoulders, massaging them lightly. With one last peck to your lips, Spencer pulled away, turning around. You giggled again at the sight of his bare ass, “as much as I love the view, where are you going?”

He turned back to you with a light-hearted smile on his face “I need to clean you up, I don’t think you want to go to bed with cum dripping down your thighs.”

You groaned, lazily reaching out for him, “but I’m tired.”

“And whiny,” Spencer replied, his voice muffled as he walked away from you and into the bathroom.

“I’m only whiny because I want to go to sleep, we can take a shower in the morning.” You attempted to sway him.

He walked back into the bedroom, a wet rag in his hand. You smiled, you could already see the multitude of love bites you left on his neck. “Your neck looks pretty,” you stated lazily.

Spencer laughed at your words, crouching down to run the rag up your thighs. “Yours does too, you’re going to need a lot of makeup to cover that bruise.” He was right, a bruise in the shape of his hand was going to be on your neck for days.

You let out a hiss as he ran the rag up your folds, still extremely sensitive. You sat up slightly, attempting to retreat further onto the bed and away from Spencer. His arms slung over your waist, pulling you right back to the edge of the bed. “The quicker I do this the quicker we get to go to sleep, sweetheart.” He chided.

You rolled your eyes, pouting like a child, “but it hurts.”

Spencer hummed in understanding, continuing to clean you, “you know, I was going to make you cum another time, but, I didn’t think you could handle it.”

“Oh, please, I’d let you fuck me till I pass out if you made me cum like that again.” You laughed, watching as he threw the dirty rag onto the bedside table. He turned back to the bed, hovering over you once again.

His lips found yours in a slow, passionate kiss. “I’m holding you to that.”

You scoffed, pushing him off of you, “you better.” You turned onto your hands and knees, crawling to pull the comforter down. Spencer repeated your actions, crawling into bed next to you. You threw your leg over his, laying an arm across his chest.

“Here,” he said, sitting up slightly to slide his arm under your head as a makeshift pillow. “Next time, I’ll have to teach you how to make yourself cum.”

You sighed dreamily, snuggling further into Spencer’s warm body. You looked up at him, “next time, huh?”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his body shifting slightly away from you, “I-I mean, only if you want to-”

You laughed, using your hand on his chest to push him back down onto the bed, “ of course I want to.” You paused for a moment, “but, won’t that be a little...weird?”

Spencer laughed “Only if you make it, Y/N. Think of this all as an anatomy lesson” Spencer whispered breathily into your ear.

#criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencerreid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

How to get your crush to walk you to the nurse’s office (Highschool AU)

This is part 3, but it can be read alone!

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of a monster schlong, and unedited.

Parts: 1 2

Synopsis: Childe offers Lisa a shady deal to yet again sit next to you. However, all his efforts are in vain after he makes a complete fool out of himself by tripping over literally nothing because of a stupid cold. Maybe getting a cold isn’t so bad if he gets to be escorted to the nurse’s office by none other than yourself.

Note: Pure unedited crack luvs. Can’t wait for Childe rerun tmr I hope I get the ginger and the emo nun! 🥲💖

The eyes on you are suffocating, to say the least, enough for you to consider peeling a layer of your own skin off just to breathe. Every now and then, you get a teasing glance from a classmate, and you're sure you'll be an entire puddle of guts on your desk before home room even gets a chance to begin.

There's no doubt it's Signora that spread the news of your date yesterday as a means to some sick revenge. Knowing this was going to happen, you packed some salt in your backpack to cancel out all her evil. Now all you need is a chance to knuckle ball it in her face.

Fingers crossed, you pray to the archons that Childe didn't slip anything about your...brick slip yesterday. It's a good thing you weren't in a school uniform yesterday because that would've been the end of your high school life right there.

Thinking back to it, you collapse into your open hands. How could you have beaten a bunch up losers up...risking your flawless reputation for a sadistic ginger with an affinity for chaos? And worst of all, why did you care about them shit talking him in the first place?

"You okay dear? Something you want to tell me?" Lisa feigns concern, already knowing why.

With a sigh, you blink an eye open through the gap in your fingers. "Doing just fine."

"Oh it couldn't have been that bad." Her eyes shine in mischief. "I bet Childe was a real gentleman."

"He sure was." Kaeya pipes up from the back, leaning in to show you the image on his phone. It's a picture Childe took of you absolutely oblitering an ice cream cone.

You groan and slump deeper into your chair from embarrassment as Kaeya and Lisa engage in chatter, mostly revolving around your date.

Ignoring them completely, you start to ponder about Childe. Where is he? You were sure he'd be here bright and early to reminisce on your eventful date yesterday, which mostly consisted of a competition of who could win the most stall games at a local festival.

Maybe he'd even tease you about the Monoceros Caeli keychain attached to your phone. The very one he'd won for you, and the reason that started the competition in the first place.

Your cheeks warm when you fidget with said keychain, and you can't tell if the fast pace of your heart is because you're nervous to see him or because of the biology quiz you have second period.

So wrapped up in all these foreign emotions, you fail to notice the shadow that looms over you, a glittery finger guard tapping at your desk.

The student council President, Ningguang, plops down a stack of budget files on your desk during homeroom. She's gives you a light smile, and you know what's coming when you meet her alluring gaze.

"Be a dear Y/N," Ningguang smiles, tight lipped, all pretty with her hair pinned back to crown her face. "Even with all hands on deck, i'm afraid the student council's efforts will not come to ripeness concerning all of this paperwork."

This isn't the first time you've done her a favour by becoming the president's personal accountant, and it definitely isn't going to be the last.

Ningguang is powerful, with wit like no other, and you want to be able to call in a chit when the time comes.

"Of course," You reply with a smile that rivals her own. "I'll have them done by the end of the day."

"Excellent. I knew I could count on you, Y/N." She departs elegantly, probably opting to sit next to Beidou and bicker.

You're halfway on the third sheet for total income, a minute before class starts, when you're interrupted. Childe stumbles through the door quite noisily, a shitstain of a grin plastered on his face that is directed at you.

You sigh and shake your head as he approaches you. Thankfully the seat next to you is occupied by—

Shit! Where's Lisa?

Across the classroom, Lisa gives you a thumbs up with a bar of vending machine chocolate in her hand. You should've known she'd betray you yet again.

Childe slides in smoothly after bumping fists with Kaeya, and he falls short of containing his giddy nature.

"Hi Y/N." There's something weird about him today, because you're sure you haven't seen his cheeks so flushed ever. His eyes land on your phone, which is splayed on the desk, and the keychain widens his grin.

You snatch your phone and hide it in the middles of your thighs, but the damage is already done. The urge to shrink against the wall has never been as strong as it is in this moment.

"Hi." It's a miracle you haven't combusted on the spot. Is it usually this awkward? Everything went so fine yesterday, so why can't you ease into it today?

He takes that as a go ahead and instantly reaches for your hand on the table, but you retract at the speed of light.

"Don't even think about it." You're ready to connect the tip of your trainers to his bleached asshole, nose crinkled at his behaviour.

Kaeya whistles lowly, leaning forward for the HD show that is your life.

Childe's smile is sheepish as he's scratching the back of his head. "So we're not on that stage yet huh? I seriously thought you had a change of heart after you beat up those high schoolers for m—"

You muffle his statement with a hand on his mouth, and send a pointed glare to Kaeya. "You didn't hear shit."

The Captain of the skating team nods innocently, and salutes. "Yes boss."

Returning your gaze to Childe, who looks like he's having the time of his life with your small hand on his mouth, you narrow your eyes. "Stop trying to spread rumours."

He can only hum in reply, but you feel a weird pressure on your palm and—

The smug asshole kisses your palm.

You pull back your hand and wipe at your pants, full of disbelief. "Did you just??? Did you just? Kiss my hand???" Mouth twisted, you have no idea what to think.

Childe's throws his head back, and his laugh rings in your ears. You hate yourself for wavering slightly at the sound before smacking his arm. His laughs turn into coughs, probably because he may have swallowed his saliva down the wrong pipe. Charming.

Where the fuck is Zhongli? It's already been five minutes too long into homeroom.

Rolling your eyes, you opt to continue and scribble down budget numbers and add sums up or whatever you were doing earlier after Childe pipes down, choosing to admire you quietly by leaning his weight on one arm. It's enough to make you squirm, face flushed.

"Can you not?" Clicking your tongue in disapproval, you don't look up as you speak.

"If you give me a kiss, then maybe." Childe's cheeky, ridiculously so, and he points a finger at his cheek.

"I don't negotiate with terrorists." You deadpan, fingers itching to choke something or rather...someone.

Childe pouts, and then his eyes close for a second, almost as if he's exhausted when he gives you a sort of smile. With how he's leaning in so close, you can easily spot the swelling in his eyes and the paleness of his face.

For the first time today, there's no bite in your tone when you ask with a slightly raised brow. "Are you okay Childe?"

"Yeah!" He's quick to answer ecstatically, snapping out of his tired haze by straightening himself up. "Better more than ever now that I've seen you, girlie."

You blush madly, the compliment enough for you to drop your pen on the ground. It rolls over beyond your reach.

"I'll get that." Childe jumps out of his chair and you're unable to stop him as he goes to go fetch your pen like the chivalrous idiot he is. There's a slight pause in his movement, his body taking longer to process the messages his brain is sending.

He recovers from the muddle in his cognition by shaking his head, and casually goes to pick up the pen, then ends the move by falling over backwards in unconsciousness.

"Childe!" You lunge for him, managing to catch him a second prior to his ass hitting the floor with the help of Kaeya, who somehow looks like he's expected this outcome from the very start.

The entire classroom clamps up and turns to look for the root of all the commotion.

"Don't just sit there and watch!" You hiss angrily, waving them off. "Someone get Zhongli!"

Aether doesn't need to be told twice as Venti and him race down the hall together. Venti probably just to use this opportunity of sudden chaos to skip homeroom.

"Looks like a fever." The Captain accesses the situation as a small crowd forms around you two. "There's no way he didn't feel it in the morning."

"The absolute idiot." You groan at his words. "Of course he'd try to have a pissing match with a cold."

"I'm still here you know." Childe slurs, leaning into you for warmth, chest rising and falling softly. "Just a...a little sleepy. Am I dreaming angel?"

You roll your eyes, but don't make any moves to lean away from his touch. "Anyone got a water bottle?" Curling your hands around his shoulder, you shift your gaze towards the crowd.

Somebody passes you an emerald green water bottle with dandelion charms that clink against the hard plastic handle from a nearby desk. It screams stupid, but you don't have time to judge the owner.

Opening it up hastily, you're about to let Childe take a sip until it's snatched away from you at the speed of light.

"Hey what gives!" You call out to Kaeya, who inspects the bottle closely with his one eye. He then nods in affirmation as if his suspicions are confirmed.

"I wouldn't recommend it." Is all he says when he motions for you to take a whiff, which you do so reluctantly, eyes closed.

The scent hits you all it once. It's watered down vodka, except without the watering down. Tears form from the intensity.

"The goddamn bard." You choke out, and it earns you a drained chuckle from the ginger that has his head situated on your forearm.

He has half the mind to nuzzle in further, but the position is convenient enough for you to crush his skull if you wish to do so. So he refrains, albeit reluctantly.

Zhongli manages to make it in less than two minutes, sipping on a cup of steaming tea as he breaks apart the crowd to crouch down. "Is everything alright? I came as soon as I could after I made this tea. I assumed it was just another prank."

Everyone in the room shakes their head incredulously.

"Unfortunately it isn't a prank. Childe fainted briefly." You tell him politely despite the urgency, since you're whipped for all your teachers.

"I didn't faint!" Childe groans, exasperated. "Got a little dizzy s'all."

"Yeah," Kaeya cuts in to summarize the situation. "I'll be happy to take him to the nurses office with Y/N—"

Zhongli clears his throat. "You won't be going anywhere Mr.Alberich. I'm sure you have five overdue assignments in my class. Y/N here can walk him just fine." He then attempts to wink at Childe secretly like the wingman he is, but everyone in the classroom and their grandma notices.

The facepalm you do is not enough to render you brain dead.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh for the nth time today, and it's only eight thirty in the morning. "No worries, Lisa can help—"

"Sorry cutie. I'm manifesting for the biology quiz." Lisa deflects, lighting three candles on her desk unceremoniously with her eyes closed.

You don't understand why no one has confiscated her box of matches yet. This entire school is a law suit waiting to happen.

You succumb to the team effort everyone is trying so hard to display. "I guess I can go." The hall pass is already written, signed, and neatly folded into the chest pocket of your uniform. "How did you even..."

You don't even get a chance to finish before both you and Childe are whisked away to the outside of the classroom, the door shutting behind you with a slam. Your ears perk up at the sound of a lock clicking in place.

"Looks like you're stuck with me." The smug bastard still has the audacity to beam even when he's pale in the face. "Might have to hold my arm. If I fall and crack my skull—that wouldn't look too good on your record." He makes grabby hands, like a toddler.

The smile you give is unnerving, and with the speed of a snail, you manage to loop in your arm with Childe's. "Another word and let's move on to how your hospital record is going to have more than just a cracked skull."

"If you'd nurse me back to health, it'll all be worth it." The quip he sends without a beat lacks its usual goof, but it does manage to get some sort of reaction out of you.

"Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

—

Childe's busy thumbing at his phone while you pace at the foot of the bed, arms crossed with a frown etched on your features. You hope you don't look too worried, don't want to give him the wrong idea.

"Can we just get this over with?" He wails uncharacteristically from his spot on the white sheeted bed after ruling out everything he wanted to do on his phone. His hair is tousled more than usual, as a by-product of his constant restlessness.

"Shut up." You answer monotonously, arms crossed as you lean against the wall. "Let her finish her tiktok."

Barbara—the daughter of the school nurse, has her phone on the window, lip syncing and dancing to some music on beat as she films a tiktok with the utmost of important.

It's concerning that her father isn't here to tend to your needs, but apparently he's in the middle of a meeting with principle Varka. Said meeting had been going on for the past few months, but this school is devoid of logic anyways so nobody really questions anything.

"I'm literally dying here."

"Archons you're such a baby," Shaking your head, you approach his bed with a newfound annoyance. "Barbara has to create a tiktok at least once every twenty four hours or her fan club goes feral and..."

"Tries to jump off the roof as the ultimate sacrifice to her majesty." Childe sighs, and for the first time you sense his irritation. "Got it."

Just in time, Barbara finishes her cute little dance and comes over to where Childe is laying.

Childe doesn't miss the way your scowl has dissipated, and you give Barbara your undivided attention, hearts in your eyes from all the adoration. He has half the mind to call you out on it, no doubt a little jealous over how the young highschool idol can get you to show more emotion than him.

"I'm so sorry! I started those tiktoks out of mild interest but now I have an obligation to my fans." The younger apologizes profusely, getting to work almost immediately.

"No worries." Childe starts, staying still as the blonde examines him. "I'm sure it's nothing too serious. Y/N here is being dramatic, she probably just wants to spend some alone time with me."

You inhale sharply, turn to Barbara, and ask. "If I jumped out of the window right now from this floor, would it be a quick and easy death?"

The younger girl's eyes widen, and Childe stifles his snort.

"Kidding." You raise your hands up to cease her worries, and then motion towards him. "Common cold?"

"Yes," Barbara moves on and writes down something on a slip. "We'll just keep him here until his parents can pick him up."

"My parents can't pick me up." He asserts in a casual tone. "Don't call them."

"We still have to call them. If they don't come, you're to stay in this bed all day." She hands you the note, which is a viable excuse for all the classes he'll miss today. "Give this to his homeroom teacher. You'd also better get to class, your hall pass is about to expire."

"Hold up." You remark, barely paying attention to the note that you've shoved down your pocket. "I'm not leaving him here alone." There's no room for argument, your decision is firmly stated.

Childe hypes you up in his weakened state, disoriented. "You tell em girlie."

"He won't be alone." Barbara flashes you a reassuring smile. "I'll be monitoring him until his parents get here."

"No, no, you don't understand." You argue, inquiring all the doubts you have. "He's gonna try to pull some shit and I'll have to be here to stop him."

"Ease up babe." Childe tries to calm you down, despite the giddiness in his chest at the realization that you want to take care of him.

His subconscious begs him to let you stay, to let himself be doted and cared for the way he's always wanted you to, but he knows he can't let you skip class. Not when you've worked so hard and come so far. "I'll be okay for a few. You can go back to class and then visit me during break."

You bite your lips, head jumbled with all the different possibilities of how shit can hit the fan. "I can't! What if Signora shows up? She'll poison you in this weakened state to get back at me for trying to exorcise her." The hesitation in your features gives away everything.

Childe's eye twitches at the thought of Signora out of all people getting the best out of him, and also the absolute audacity you have to be calling him weak. Clearly all his efforts towards the little shows of dominance (e.g. Shoving Pallad against a locker, spraying a hefty amount of cologne on, being an asshole in general, etc.) have not bore fruit.

"You tried to exorcise her?" Barbara gasps, momentarily reminding the two of you that she's still present.

"Her evil has no bounds." Your expression is hard to read, dead serious. "I do not regret my attempt at cancelling Satan's hell spawn."

Childe himself has been cancelled hundreds of times over the span of highschool because of all his problematic traits (e.g calling Venti a twink) and it is not a pleasant experience.

Though it does give him a sense of comfort, knowing that arrogant bitch Signora is finally getting what's coming to her, even if she is one of his friends.

Serves her right for trying to Pavlov her stupid Chihuahua into biting the closest human being just by the snap of her manicured finger. As if it's persistent yapping and tendency to run in front of cars isn't enough torture to deal with on a daily basis.

Childe's yanked out of his thoughts rather forcefully at the sound of the door opening abruptly, the handle crashing into the wall, shocking Barbara's attempts to reassure you.

He knows who it is because of his top tier gaydar, dreading what's to come.

Scaramouche is a morose son of a bitch with a mean streak that hasn't been broken since he was an itty bitty shit in the fourth grade.

"I can't believe you let yourself get sick!" The navy haired boy exclaims in disbelief, doubling over with tears, clapping his hands to add on some extra effects. "Natural selection finally decided to stop pussy footing around your primate-looking ass."

You press your lips together. "Isn't he supposed to be your best friend?"

Scaramouche sputters violently, using the wall as leverage to hold himself up. "You told her I'm your best friend? Oh fuck. Oh this is good. What else did you tell her huh? That you have a monster cock?"

"First of all, you make me reconsider my opinion on the death penalty, dickhead."

Barbara is mortified. Childe continues on anyways.

"—and I do have a monster cock. But why are you so interested in my monster cock huh?"

Scaramouche scrunches his face up in disgust, amusement nothing but a distant memory. "You don't have a monster cock you plebe."

Childe has an awfully scandalized expression on his face, but smoothly enough it transitions into an unsettling grin that you're all too familiar with. "You didn't deny not being interested in my monster cock though."

It's your turn to be mortified, shaking your head at the banter that goes on back and forth.

"How did you even know he was in here? We aren't even in the same class."

Scaramouche raises a brow as if you're some sort of toddler that's babbling out a mixture of Cheerios and spit, maybe a few digested strawberries here and there. He waves his phone in front of you, "posted it on his story."

"What the—give me that!" You snatch his phone right up, staring at the screen in bewilderment.

There's a video of you doing trick shots with your tech deck on the ledge of a nearby window with a pressed expression while waiting for Barbara to finish up, captioned with: "In the nurses office rn pray for me 🙏, there's this cute girl in front of me should I ask her out?"

You check the poll and ninety five percent say yes. Scaramouche voted no. You have mixed feelings.

Shaking your head, you give Childe, who's unable to sit still, a look of pure exasperation.

Scaramouche claws his phone back from you rather harshly, the bells on his hat jingling, making it hard for you to take him seriously when he sneers your way.

"You should be thankful you're the lover of my comrade." He shivers slightly at the word comrade. "or I would have obliterated you on the spot for that little stunt."

Childe doesn't even pretend to look fazed at the older's threat when he says "as if I'd allow a kumquat headass like you to touch my girl."

You and Barbara hastily jump in to stop the bloodbath that is seconds from happening. "No!"

Luckily, no limbs are teared apart.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #kaeya alberich #childe #childe x reader #fanfic #genshin oneshot #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #aether #venti genshin impact #genshin impact venti #kaeya genshin impact

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odos-bucket · 3 years

Text

Protective Batbros, a subsidiary of my Protective Batdad series

Tim is sitting alone.

It was something Dick had made note of shortly after arriving at the gala. There are people scattered around at various tables, but even more people milling about and socializing. Before he can do more than smile and nod to the newest Robin, a small group of WE investors draw his attention into a dull conversation.

Dick talks with them for a little while, then makes his rounds throughout the big hall, mingling with various acquaintances, and sampling some hors d’oeuvres. By the time he’s back to where he began, he notices that Tim is still sitting by himself. Or, he amends, maybe someone else has been by and gone again?

Tim ’s posture is perfectly straight, and he isn’t looking around. His expression is neutral, but not blank like he’s spacing out. There are appetizers on his plate that he clearly hasn’t touched. One of his hands is folded in his lap, the thumb of the other hand is rubbing methodically at the polished handle of a decorative spoon. Dick makes his way over to take the seat beside him.

“Heya, kiddo.”

“Dick!” Tim’s face lights up when he sees him, if only for a moment, which makes Dick’s heart light up as well, as he pulls the kid into a one armed hug.

He makes a brief mental note of how tightly Tim clings to him in return, then files the observation away to analyze later.

He doesn’t like how little they’ve seen Tim around the manor recently. His parents have been in town for the past week and a half, which throws a bit of a wrench into their nighttime escapades.

But it’s a good thing, he reminds himself. Tim doesn’t get to spend nearly enough time with his parents; it’s good that they’re around. Dick feels a little guilty for thinking of them as an inconvenience, even though he’s pretty sure Bruce does too.

Dick leans back into his own seat, but keeps an arm resting on the back of Tim’s.

“How’s it going?” He asks.

“Okay,” Tim says with a shrug, expression and posture already returned to their neutral state.

“Been kinda boring without you around this past week.”

“Yeah, sorry. My dad likes to know where I am.” He begins to rub his hands together, then seems to realize what he’s doing, and forces himself to return to the subtler motion of worrying at the silverware.

Dick nods, watching his hand.

“Must be nice having them around for a while.” He is being supportive. He needs to be supportive.

“I- yeah. It’s great…”

Dick looks at him with an open expression, waiting for some clarification.

“They’re not like around around,” Tim says. “They still work. But it’s nice when we get to have dinner together. And Mom says that maybe we can try to have a family game night before they have to leave again, if there’s time…”

Dick resists the urge to ask when that will be. Tim sees right through him.

“They’ll be leaving for Norway before the end of the month.”

Dick isn’t sure what the appropriate reaction to that is, and his expression sort of ends up stumbling into a grimace. He glances down to keep it concealed, and Tim is kind enough not to draw attention to it.

“I’m sorry they’re not staying longer. But it’ll be good to have you around again.”

Tim nods absently. An uncomfortable expression flits across his face, but vanishes quickly.

“Tim, are you feeling okay?”

At first he just gets a noncommittal noise in response to the question, then after a minute Tim wrinkles his nose, and glances around the room.

“It’s loud.”

Dick nods. He hadn’t really been attuned to the noise level himself. It wasn’t especially loud by Gotham aristocracy standards, but he could see how it might be annoying to someone who was bothered by that type of thing, or just wasn’t particularly used to it. Of course, Time would be used to it though, so that didn’t really factor in here.

“I might have some headphones in the car,” he offers. “They’re not noise cancelling, but they might help. Do you want me to go gram ‘em?”

Tim’s expression shifts, and he eyes Dick, like he’s trying to decipher something about him.

“This isn’t exactly an appropriate setting for headphone,” he says after a minute. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.”

“I don’t think anyone here who’s sober enough to notice whether or not you’re wearing headphones is going to feel slighted if you are.”

Tim shrugs stiffly. Dick glances to where his hand is still fidgeting with the flatware, and feels a spark of concern that he might just rub a hole into the pad of his thumb.

“Why don’t we step out for a sec?” He suggests.

“Because it would be rude?” Tim offers uncertainly, not picking up on the rhetorical nature of the question.

“Just for a minute,” Dick insists. He doesn’t like how uneasy Tim is here.

Tim glances around them cautiously, twitching slightly as the band hits a particularly high note, then turns his attention back to Dick and nods.

They head out through the front doors. And while a few people glance at them as they leave, no one hinders their exit.

Outside, Tim seems to finally notice the blister he’s been wearing into his thumb all evening.

“Does that hurt?” Dick asks.

He doesn’t get a response at first, as Tim is frowning down at the finger with apparently intense concentration.

“It’s ugly,” he says after a minute. “I used to pull at the skin around my nails. It never hurt badly, just looked weird.”

“I think Bruce keeps bandaids in the car. I’ll go grab you one.”

“That’s-“ Tim begins.

But Dick is already halfway down the wide outdoor staircase. He doesn’t want to leave Tim along for long if he’s been by himself all night, but figures he probably won’t miss much in the forty five seconds it should take him to get to the car and back.

He finds bandaids, and a set of earplugs in the glove compartment. As he dashes back to the main entrance, he acknowledging that the round trip may have taken closer to sixty five seconds, but figures that’s still pretty good.

When he gets to the top of the stairs Tim’s talking with a woman. Or rather, he’s holding very still and being talked at, by a very unhappy woman, who it takes Dick a moment to recognize as Janet Drake.

“-Don’t know what could possibly have made you think it was appropriate to come out here in the middle of a party. We came back to the table and you were gone! People were asking about you too, and what were we supposed to tell them?”

“Hi,” Dick interrupts, as loudly as he thinks he can get away with, and in a deliberately upbeat voice. “I’m so sorry! I had to get something from my car, and asked Tim to come keep me company. I thought we’d be back in before anyone had a chance to miss us.” He dips his head apologetically, and looks back up with a bashful grin.

Mrs. Drake seems completely caught off guard, looking rapidly between Dick and her son, whose gaze has been mostly focused on a spot behind her right ear. After a minute she manages to force some composure into her expression.

“It’s not that we mind you borrowing him, Mr. Grayson-Wayne. It’s just coming back to the table to find that he’s not there, you understand-“

Dick waves off the rushed explanation of her concern.

“I’m sorry to have worried you.”

She studies him for a minute. Dick isn’t sure what she’s looking for, or what she thinks she’s seeing. But he matches her scrutiny, and forces down the thought that he does not like this woman.

She looks away from him quickly enough, clearing her throat.

“Come, Timothy.”

Dick slips the bandaid and earplugs into Tim’s suit pocket as he follows them back inside, and squeezes his shoulder once there’s no longer a plausible reason for them to be going in the same direction.

He then proceeds to spend the rest of the evening maneuvering himself to keep the Drakes in the periphery of his line of sight, keeping an eye on his little brother. Because Tim can handle himself in this environment, but Dick knows he doesn’t like it, knows that all the sound and bright light gives him a headache. And they’re all a little nervous in crowds. And he knows intellectually that the chances of anything really bad happening tonight aren’t actually all that high. Even so, he needs to look out for Tim, because what if no one else is?

It’s almost too hard to think about. Dick has given himself permission to be a little overprotective, feeling like he has a pretty damn good reason to be. But the thing is, Tim’s not really supposed to need it. Not all the time. Not here. He has a family. Dick has always felt a little guilty for resenting them, but watching the Drake’s go the rest of the night without saying more than a stray word or two to their son makes him wonder if maybe he has the right.

He doesn’t know their situation, not really. But he knows what he sees and he doesn’t like it.

“Can we make sure Tim’s family’s at the same table as us the next time we have to go to one of these?” He asks Bruce later that night, asks as if they themselves aren’t already Tim’s family, even if it feels wrong to imply.

Bruce hums a distracted agreement, and Dick thinks he must see it too.

Not that it matters especially, but I kind of picture this happening in the same continuity as this story, but maybe a couple months beforehand (or maybe just a couple of weeks if you want the Drakes to be on the same visit).

Hope you enjoy!

#tim drake #dick grayson #batman #batfam #batfamily #robin #nightwing #my writing #bat bros #batbros #is that a tag?#I don't know #fanfiction

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silhouetteofacedar · 3 years

Text

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder is not feeling lucky.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.

It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.

At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.

She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.

“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”

The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”

Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.

She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”

He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.

She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.

What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.

Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.

He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.

You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.

He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.

She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.

He’s doing it to himself.

Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.

He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.

He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…

“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.

“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”

“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”

He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”

“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”

“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.

“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.

“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.

“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.

“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-

“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”

“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”

“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”

“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”

They’re silent for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.

“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.

“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.

She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”

“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.

“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.

He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.

It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.

There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.

He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.

Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”

Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”

“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.

“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.

“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”

“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”

“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.

“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”

“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”

“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.

“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.

“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”

“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.

Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”

Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.

“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”

“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.

“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”

“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.

Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”

“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”

Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”

He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

Because he can’t get Scully.

#my fic #txf fic #msr #xfiles #fox mulder closet romantic #fmcr #OH SHIT YALL THE ANGST TRAIN IS PULLING INTO THE STATION #had to do it to em

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seouliie · 3 years

Text

bikini bottoms (m)

having a job as a lifeguard on the beach has you doing many things you’ve never done before. stopping fights between a 5 year old and a seagull, spending hours trying to dig a jeep out of a 4 foot hole some doofus had dug, and lastly, giving jung hoseok a blowjob.

(gif from weheartit)

GENRE: e2l, smut, lifeguard!au

WORDS: 2753

MEMBER: jung hoseok

WARNINGS: really only a blowjob, implied smut, possible part two, hoseok is a fuckboy, mention of sexual harassment, there’s banter in this and hoseok slaps yn’s ass, but it’s all playful!!

The wooden chair of the lifeguard tower creaks as you sit down, as if releasing a heavy sigh after a long night of no usage, now to be sat on at the fresh time of 10 am- the start of your work day. From above, the people now rolling in to the beach start appearing, encouraged by the sunny sky and beautiful weather to get on their swimsuits and hop in the clear water.

This was an everyday thing for you- and you loved it. The fresh air seemingly always in the atmosphere, tinted by the salty smell of the sea, the sun, the sand- everything. It was the perfect way to start your day, and the perfect day to end it. Your mornings could never go wrong at the beach.

From the corner of your eye, you can see the outline of a rather familiar figure making his way towards the lifeguard tower, a frown naturally forming onto to your lips.

Well, except for one thing.

Meet Jung Hoseok, the heartthrob of the beach. Not gonna lie, the only reason you haven't filed a complaint for him to get fired was because almost half of the people who come to the beach are teenagers who want a piece of him. Not just him- his dick. If he did evidently get fired, then less people would actually come, meaning less money for you. Yes, you have thought this through before. And you prefer money.

"______!"

You sigh, not wanting to interact with this sex machine at least until you've had your third cup of coffee. Lazily, you respond: "Yes, Hoseok?"

He smiles when you make eye contact with him, his gaze pure and playful. "You left your shoes at the shed! I wanted to bring them to you!" A hand covers his eyes from the rays of the sun, and he lifts his other hand to reveal your pair of dark blue flip-flops hanging off his middle finger.

"I know, Hoseok," you reply. "I leave them on purpose. I don't like the feeling of shoes on a beach." You rake a hand through your hair, your strands getting blown into your eyes from the slight wind.

"Well, I brought them, so you might as well wear it." He smirks as he waves the shoes around mockingly. From afar, the sound of a baseline is audible, hinting that the car of the boy-crazy girls have arrived.

You scoff. "Just throw them up or something. Don't you know how? Weren't you captain of your basketball team?"

Hoseok laughs, a sound that- for some reason- causes your stomach to flurry. "First of all, I was not captain and I barely played since the coach despised me. Secondly, I will not throw these up, and you will come down to get them."

High-pitched laughter rings through your ears, causing your mood to already turn negative. You roll your eyes. "Don't you have some girls to fuck? I can practically hear them calling your name already in their squeaky ass voices like some fourth graders."

At this, the raven haired boy pouts, slight wind brushing his bangs into his eyes. "Come on, I'm trying to be nice, princess."

You bit your lip. The sun was pretty hot today, the wood burning up below your feet. Maybe you should put some comfort between your skin the the fiery hot chair. "Alright fine." You stand up and turn around, going down the ladder one foot at a time.

Little did you know, Hoseok was not focused at all on giving your shoes back. After he saw you climbing down the little wooden stubs, his eyes were trained on your ass, naturally pushed out each step. Once stepping onto the grainy smooth sand, you swiftly grab your shoes from his hand, pulling him out of his trance.

You bend down to slide the soft material onto your feet and shake your head. "God, making me do all this extra work for nothing-"

A hard smack to your ass cuts you off mid-sentence. Jung fucking Hoseok. Almost breaking your neck from looking up so fast, you notice that the human incarnated form of aggravation is not in front of you like he was a second ago. He's halfway up the ladder.

"Hoseok!" You cry, shocked by how he slapped your ass and how he climbed the goddamn thing so fast. "The hell are you doing?"

"Getting away from those girls." He says as he reaches for another slab of woob. "Jesus, you fuck them once, and they get all attached."

The group of girls have already set up their towel on the pale sand, one of them already oiling themselves up. He fucked them all? Like.. at once or all tog- You huff a breath of air. You are not going to be thinking about that right now.

"Not all at once, of course," He calls out, which makes you wonder if you were thinking out loud. "Although it definitely wasn't individual." Hoseok talks with a sly tone, raising a brow at you.

Looking back at the girls, you see them talking amongst themselves. However, they are all turning their heads, looking for one thing- the thing that's sitting at the top of the lifeguard tower.

Realization hits you like a truck. "Jung Hoseok, you are not leaving me with those maniacs."

He snorts, raking a hand through his hair. "Yes you are! I got you your shoes, do me this favor."

You could not believe the audacity of this man. He practically forced you to take the shoes, and now as a 'favor' you had to deal with those hoes who you only wish would get a grip of self worth so they stop chasing after that man? What a great way to start your day.

"Oh my fucking God." Anger is flowing through your veins, taking over your thoughts and actions, and you no longer can feel your sanity. "This is not a fucking favor, this is you manipulating me for you sake, so fuck you slutty bitch!"

The sand is wet and warm as you roll it into a ball, turning around and chucking it at Hoseok’s head. You barely miss his slim face and hit his neck, but still doing damage by getting stuck to his skin. "That's for slapping my ass, asshole."

You miss the way he eyes your leaving figure up and down after wiping the sand off his neck. Oh, he just loved messing with you.

-----

Swimsuits are tight. They curve around one's body perfectly, almost painfully, used for swimming or other water activities. They're actually pretty comfortable, if you do say so yourself, and you take pride in knowing the way your body looks in the bright red one piece of the lifeguard apparel.

But wet swimsuits are a whole 'nother story. Wet swimsuits are the devil themselves. They're sticky and distressing and tight, feeling like hell in spandex form suffocating your body and not letting you get the blood you need. Not to mention they take almost an hour to take off.

"God, can't I just take it off?" You whisper to no one in particular. The pad of your thumb scrolls through Instagram, images of other people's picture-perfect lives on view to the world. Feeling itchy, you continuously adjust your swimsuit, trying to find some relief for the discomfort you currently felt.

Sounds from the door break the much appreciated silent atmosphere you were miraculously blessed with, of course broken by the one and only Jung Hoseok. "Help me," he quickly says, slamming the door of the hut shut. There's still some sand stuck on his bare upper chest from where you've hit him.

You scoff and look back down to your screen. "Help yourself, Jung. You've clearly been doing that the whole day, anyways." You squeeze your eyes shut as memories from earlier in the day came rushing at you.

The girls approached you right after you walked away from throwing the sand at Hoseok, ignoring the way he screamed your name repetitively. Not only did they waste your time by asking you where Hoseok was, but once you wouldn't let them go up the lifeguard tower, it got into a heated argument and one girl had the audacity to throw you into the fucking water.

She was strong, not gonna lie, but over what? A simple fuck? From the man who probably has a little tic-tac anyways? Oh, how you went off on them.

"They, uh-" Hoseok's voice slightly cracks, and he's talking in a slight panicked way, fast and mumbled. "They sort of attacked me- harassed me."

You look up. "They harassed you? You mean like... harassed harassed or harassed harassed?" He just blinks and shyly points to his trunks.

"Harassed harassed." Your eyes trail down, and the little bulge in Hoseok's pants momentarily shocks you.

"Holy shit, Hoseok."

Eyes wide, he nods. "I know. They fucking went after me once I got down the tower, so I ran here as fast as I could." When his breathing begins to slow, Hoseok moves to stand next to the big wooden table in the center of the room. "God, crazy bitches."

"And you got turned on from that?"

Not from them, he thinks to himself. But he wasn't about to let you know that he was already having his senses heightened after he saw your wet figure in the water.

"Well not exactly. It's kind of, just, you know," he sighs in defeat and shakes his bangs.

"And you want me to help... how?"

Hoseok stares at you, saying nothing. And you realize it.

"No, Hoseok, no way." You click your phone off and set it on the armrest of the wooden chair. "I'm not gonna sleep with you."

He lets out a frustrated groan. "I'm not asking you to sleep with me, just help me deal with this!" His hair comes out slightly ruffled after he rakes his hand through it. "I can't walk around with a fucking tent in my shorts around everybody. There's children!"

It takes all your self control and dignity to not look down at his crotch once again, for the outline is becoming more and more visible as the seconds roll on. And you've got to admit, he doesn't look as small as you thought. "Why should I do that? You've basically ruined my whole day by tricking me into getting down from the tower so I had to deal with those psychos. Not to mention, you slapped my ass and one of them threw me in the goddamn water!"

"Okay, well," Hoseok tries to counter argue. "You... threw sand at me." He knew he wasn't convincing anyone with that. "Please ________ just help me. I swear I'll make it up to you."

You think. You actually think about it. Blame it on the fact that the Jung Hoseok is practically begging you for it. An amused idea runs through your mind as you think of all the things you could make Hoseok do for you, all the embarrassment that would come with it, all the revenge you would finally get. Without saying anything, you make eye contact with his desperate form and stand up, walking towards him. His eyes widen.

"Woah, you're actually gonna-"

"Stop talking." You turn the both of you around and push him onto the chair, kneeling down in front of him. Hoseok is so stunned he doesn't even realize he bumped your phone off the armrest and onto the sandy floor. His breath gets stuck in his throat at the sight of you on your knees, ready to take him in your mouth. You run both of your hands up his thighs before slowly outlining his cock lightly with your fingertips.

"Jesus Christ," he breaks underneath your touch. He couldn't believe he was gonna get sucked off by you, the girl who's hated him since they first met. It was unbelievably hot. He sucks in a harsh breath when you squeeze his clothed dick. "Please don't fucking tease me, ______"

His length hardens in your hand when you begin to sensually rub your palm against it. You would be lying if you said that you weren't even the slightest bit turned on. "Patience, Hoseok," you grin. "God, you're so desperate for me, huh?"

A whimper. Jung Hoseok fucking whimpers.

Dominant, cocky Hoseok, just whimpered. For you. And it went straight to your core.

Rubbing your thighs together, you opt for some relief from the tingling you felt. Hoping to distract yourself, you toy with the waistband of his swim trunks for a few seconds before finally pulling them down his thighs.

It was much different than you would've ever imagined. In the past whenever you thought about his dick, which was rarely ever, you obviously knew he was packing some size considering the amount of times he slept around. However, seeing it in person has outdid all of your previous expectations. His dripping cock had length to it, but the thickness was shocking. It was unbelievably thick.

"Fuck," you whisper. You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, your fingertips barely able to touch each other. You give it a light squeeze before slowly sliding up.

Hoseok is watching your every move, his hands forming fists by his side to keep him from thrusting himself into your grip. "_____- shit." He leans his head back, clenching his jaw as you spread his precum around his length, making sure to coat every spot with his juice. The sight of his throat bobbing up and down makes your eyes flutter. God, why is he so hot right now.

"Your so naughty, Hoseok." You lightly trail your tongue up his cock, keeping your eyes on him the whole way up. Wrapping your lips around the head, Hoseok whimpers once again when you begin to suck on the swollen tip. He can't hold back anymore and snakes his hand into your hair, pulling at the roots while letting out deep groans.

When you take all of him in one go, he slowly pushes down on your head so that his tip meets the back of your throat. The sound of you quietly gagging sends him into overdrive, his body shaking from the pleasure. You grasp at his thighs, clawing your nails into his skin. "______, please please please, fuck."

Remembering a tip your friend once gave you, you hollow your cheeks and suck, continuously bobbing your head up and down. Obviously, your friend knows what she's doing, basing off of the way Hoseok lets out a loud vocal moan and thrusts wildly into your mouth. You've never seen him like this- so unhinged and in a way almost pathetically desperate. It was turning you on beyond belief.

He's close and it's obvious, sweat dripping down the side of neck, letting out a string of curses and swears as he gets closer to his high.

"Fuck, _____ don't stop, p-please don't stop." His voice sends a rush of warmth to your core, and his other hand releases the grip on the armrest to join the other in pulling your hair. Both of his hands are grabbing at your head, and you move even faster, giving his throbbing cock a couple swirls with your tongue until finally he's squeezing his eyes shut and releasing his seed into your mouth. The warmth in your throat seems to never end, akin to the strings of moans Hoseok lets out. After swallowing, you release his cock with a pop and wipe his cum off of your chin with the back of your hand.

Hoseok tilts his head back and keeps his hands in your hair, wanting to pause for a while for him to catch his breath. "Goddamn, ______." He lets out a breathless laugh.

You smile breathlessly and rub your hands up to his abs, tracing the outline lightly with your fingertips. His eyes darken again as they watch your lips swollen red and with his cum dripping down the sides. He forces himself to loosen his grip on your hair and slowly pulls his hands back.

You grab it before he can fully retreat. He looks at you, confused. A soft laugh escapes your lips.

"You still owe me a favor, shit head.”

#jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #jhope smut #smut #bts smut #hoseok smut #e2l smut #smutty smut smut #idk what other tags to use #lifeguard smut

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 years

Text

Jason was someone who knew the value and the importance of a good night sleep. And life on the Argo ll showed him that the others were lacking in that department.

And without quite fully realising it, he studied them and found solutions that maybe they hadn't even realised.

(Or, Jason is distressed team mum and wants to help everyone get some sleep)

He'd find Percy drifting off while sat on the sofa and would inquire that the other slept. Percy would give him a fond and amused grin "yeah, I will." But Jason can see the bags under his eyes and the way he's slower to react (not by much of course, it was Percy after all impulse was kinda his thing) and resists the urge to shake his head.

Instead Jason goes over to the window, and feels his power fill the air. A cool gust of wind and the trickling of rain start to appear, followed by the cool lapping waves of the sea (because of the wind) and Percy listens to them absentmindedly but only takes a few minutes for him to nod off on the sofa, lulled by the sounds around him. Jason had heard him fondly talk of Montauk, of a rainy cabin by the sea and Jason knew at once what to do.

A light swirl of wind picks up the blankets from his room and tuck him in, a pillow pet wedged in his arms.

Jason finds Leo tinkering in the engine room with Annabeth by his side. They've thrown themselves into another invention and happily explain it to him. And while most of its intricacies go over his head, he praises them regardless (and tries not to frown at how surprised they are, especially Leo to receive genuine praise. That he files away for later.)

His points of going to sleep fall on death ears of course, but he's caught them before they've started to consume any caffiene. Jason takes a deep breathe and mumbles some words in a language he's never truly used before. But Leo does, freezing in place and staring at Jason in open mouth surprise.

It's a song Reyna sings, has sung to Jason more times than he can count. On cloudless night skies full of stars, when all they have is each other to hold on to. Jason doesn't completely known the language but Reyna uses it when there alone, he wants to know because he knows just how important it is to her.

Tears well up in Leo's eyes, his body sags and his eyes flutter sleepily like Jason had hoped. It reminds Leo of his Madre, and warmth wells up in his heart. To seal the deal, Jason hands over a blanket with all the importance of a treaty and mimes for Leo to put it around him.

Leo raises an eyebrow, still reeling from the song and does so. He gasps in surprise, for this is a weighted blanket that seems to by magic dull the anxiety that wells up in his friend. (Jason is certain that weighted blankets are just magic). He gives Jason a grin but for once it reaches his eyes, eyes that shine witb gratitude "okay okay, I'm going to sleep Jase if you're gonna go through all this trouble."

Annabeth looks like she's about to protest for all of 3 seconds before shaking her head and bade Leo goodnight. She gives Jason a calculating look "I'm assuming you're doing this with everyone." Jason nods, open and honest because he has nothing to hide and knows how much that means to her. Annabeth stares at him for a few seconds, before nodding, accepting it.

"We have been... Running ourselves ragged I suppose...." To Jason that's an understatement, she can read them all but he can read her 2. He can see just how much she's struggling to keep herself together. Otherwise she'd probably have put up more of a fight to his plans. "So, care to tell me what you thought of for me?"

Jason smiles, taking out a book and pressing it into he'd hands, she raises an eyebrow and makes what's halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "You want me... To read till I sleep?" She asks, Jason nods absolutely serious. Annabeth isn't sure how to react that but finds no harm in it and does so. She's about 5 pages in when her head falls onto the pillow beneath her and softly snores.

Annabeth had been that exhausted that few things wouldn't have made her fall asleep. That is if she were anyone else, but she was Annabeth. She was someone who's guard was raised at all times, so he made his intentions clear and handed her a book to help her sleep. It wasn't that the book was magic or anything it was even what it contained though that was important.

It was on keystone arch way design, an architectural style that had been pioneered by Romans. This particular book was one of Jason's favourites, and by giving her a book important to him, about something he cared about he was able to gain her trust. Jason had relaxed Annabeth enough that her guard dropped momentarily so that her tired body was able to win out.

Jason had no doubt she would read the book the next day and bookmarked it for her, using the wind to gently send her to her room.

He found Frank polishing his bow and talking to Hazel. Jason strode over to them and told them that it was late and they should rest. That they had a big day ahead of them and he wouldn't want them to get hurt through their exhaustion.

And while the words were casual enough, they bore with them a certain edge. Not harshness or even cruelty but a certain form of confidence that spoke of authority. Now Jason didn't have authority, not here but he used to. Frank and Hazel has known him for a while personally but not as long as he'd been their Praetor and Jason knew instantly that they'd recognise his tone.

But he didn't leave it there, otherwise he'd have felt cruel and cold, and besides it wasn't the whole plan. Jason smiled warmly, and began to tell a story. Like so many he'd shared at a campfire after long days at Camp Jupiter. Hazel curled up beside Frank who stifled a yawn, the almost Prateor voice had got their attention yes.

But the story pulled them in, just like it always had. It was one they'd heard a thousand times of a mission a former Prateor had been on but Jason weaved words like magic and before he was finished they were out like lights.

He smiled fondly, just like than and wrapped a blanket around them and left once they were comfortable.

Piper was sat by one of the windows, staring into her blade in deep thought. Jason clears his throat to make his presence known and she jumps slightly, waving at him once she regains her composure. "Oh, hi Jason. What's up?" She tries and fails to hide her true feelings. Piper's afraid, and Jason knows it. He asks her if she can fall asleep and she shakes her head silently. Jason nods, expecting as much and sits beside her.

Instantly she rests her head on his shoulder, it takes a few seconds but she voices her worries. Her anxiety and fear about their mission, and he holds her close. Jason let's get it all out, even prompting her at times before consoling and comforting her. He addresses every one of her fears with a realistic but kind response, it reminds him of new campers still learning the ropes and asking a billion questions all at once.

He comforted them, answered their questions and made sure they knew he was always their to support them. Jason comforts Piper the same way, bringing up that she has improved, how far they've gotten and holding her close.

And it helps her relax, much like it did to them in the past and once she does she starts to yawn. He gives her a pointed look and she laughs tiredly "fine I'll get some rest, only if you do as well." Jason nods, watching her go back he'd to her room.

Of course he will, he fully intends to keep that promise like all the rest. The rain is more natural now, perhaps he'd initially caused it but oh well. Jason thinks of the seven, or rather the six and how they've worked their way into his heart. He thinks of Reyna and knows she'd have been amused of his efforts as she always is.

And now Jason finds himself able to sleep, now that he knows everyone else is well and truly resting. And that's what he feels as he drifts off to sleep curled up in a nest of blankets like the wolf he is.

When Nico joins them, and everyone notices him having trouble sleeping there is little surprise among the six when Jason quietly approaches him.

It's a lot less surprising when they see Nico drinking hot chocolate at night and discussing Mythomagic strategies with Jason, as his eyes begin to flutter, that remind him of so much of late night conversations with Reyna on days that have been so hard on them both.

Because every now and again Nico will drop in something serious in their friendly banter and Jason will not belittle, nor ignore nor make light of it or coddle him but listen and ensure he feels listened to. Because that he finds is what Nico needs... And if he manages to hug him at some point and get him to sleep that's a definite plus.

(Really wanted to hammer it home that Jason makes others feel comfortable by addressing who they are as people and uses himself to help.

With Percy he uses his powers to remind him of his safe place when he's in distress.

With Annabeth he uses his passion and being a literal open book because he knows she values and needs trust and safety.

With Leo and Nico it was his friendship with Reyna, of how they've both helped each other when there hurting and applied what he's learnt here.

With Frank and Hazel and Piper it was his role as Prateor, the knowledge of how to help tjise who are openly hurting and want that support and telling stories because that's what helped campers like Frank and Hazel are to feel better.

Because helping others is such a core part of who Jason is)

#jason grace #percy jackson #The seven #reyna avila ramirez arellano #nico di angelo #piper mclean #leo valdez #Frank zhang #Hazel levesque #annabeth chase #Mama Jason Grace #jason grace protection squad #jason grace appreciation squad

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 6

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

To say that I was doing well after I left Derek’s house would be a lie. I really don’t understand why it hurts so much. We barely knew each other outside of a few encounters. Was it just me that felt the aching in my chest? I want to believe that he felt the same thing, but that seemed selfish. That I wanted him to miss me. That I dreamed of him showing up at my window and begging to see me. But that wouldn’t be real, that was a fantasy. Derek would never act like that. That was just my fantasy.

I promised Stiles I wouldn’t get romantically involved with Derek, but it was more painful than I have ever imagined.

I sat in Coach Finstock’s office while the school day went on. Relacing the netting on the crosses that were used in case any of the players broke their own. The repetitive movements were mind numbing so it was probably for the best. I could zone out and not think about Derek.

Tonight was parent teacher conferences for some students who weren’t doing well academically, both Scott and Stiles were a part of that list. But who could blame them? One of them was a werewolf and the other was friends with the aforementioned werewolf. The weeks seemed to run together, it didn’t even feel like autumn yet, but we were halfway to winter.

I had stayed away like I promised. The only times I even heard about Derek was from what Scott told Stiles. They were both planning on finding the alpha and taking him down together. That would be good for him. Good for both of them. I have been feeling so many emotions since then. A lot of anxiety and anger. But they never felt like my own. I sighed and rested my eyes for a minute, the repeated movements slowing my brain down enough to sleep on Coach’s desk.

The man in front of me was badly burned, one side of his face was pink and muddled, much of his hair was burned on that side.

“I need your help.” Derek’s voice echoed, “If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just… Just something to point me in the right direction, okay?” The man, his Uncle Peter, stayed in the same position.

He sighed, “Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura? Whoever he is, he’s an Alpha now… but he’s one without a pack, which means he’s not as strong. I can take him. But, I have to find him first.” Still no response.

“Look, if you know something, just give me a sign. Is it one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire?”

Still getting no response, he became agitated, “Just give me anything! Blink! Raise a finger! Anything!” He growled, reaching for the man, “SAY SOMETHING”!

“Hey.” I jolted at the sound of Finstock’s voice. He stood in the doorway of his office.

“You alright, kid?” He asked, his eyes went from my face to the crosse that I was aggressively fixing the net on. What was that? Was I… seeing what Derek was seeing? No, that was impossible. Insane even.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” I went back to relacing, tugging the knots taut and reaching for a lighter to burn the ends of the string so they wouldn’t unravel.

“Do I need to kick his ass?” He asked, his large eyes looking a little more crazy than usual. He was trying to seem threatening, but I wasn’t threatened by his booming voice and looks anymore. He was alluding to someone not treating me right but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

I chuckled a little, “No. It’s not his fault. He’s going through a lot right now.” I stood up and placed the crosse in the spare locker with the rest of them, “Besides, I probably shouldn’t be dating considering the last guy I was dating murdered my parents and tried to murder me.” The humor was dark, but what a way to cope.

“Any news on that guy?” He stood up straight, walking to his desk.

“Nope. I think he skipped town. He’s the feds' problem now.”

“Does Stiles want to be a doctor?” He changed the subject, he was looking at a paper in his hand.

“Uh… Not that I know of.” I shrugged.

“Because he wrote a detailed history of male circumcision on his economics test.”

I got out late, well past the time the student teacher meetings were over. Filing records, grading a couple things for Finstock and ordering more pearls for the upcoming games since we were running low. These days really run together, especially when you’re trying to forget most of the year that happens.

Speaking of happening, was I really seeing the same thing Derek could? It didn’t make sense. They were just random dreams. Like the one the other day where Derek was speaking to this woman about how she didn’t kill his sister. That was just a dream. But… Why could I feel sadness? Sadness, guilt and pain.

I got home, seeing that Stiles’ Jeep was nowhere in sight meaning that he was off to do more werewolf nonsense with Scott. I trusted Scott to keep him safe, but that didn’t mean I wanted Stiles running around where there was an alpha on the loose.

That night I made dinner, ate, saved two plates for Uncle Noah and Stiles and sat in the living room. They were running a story on another body that had been found. A bus driver killed in an animal attack. They were calling it a mountain lion. A mountain lion was more likely than a werewolf normally. But here we are. Officially werewolf capital of the world. I turned off the TV and laid back on the cushions, closing my eyes. Maybe a couch nap would relax me a little, it would kill my back in the morning, but I would be able to tell when Stiles came home.

Scott and Stiles were walking towards me across the school lawn, playfully pushing each other.

“I’m gonna kill both of you.” Derek’s voice said, “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?” He was frustrated and angry, but also a little scared. Finding the alpha is what he needed to do, at the same time though, this person got the jump on Laura.

“Sorry…I didn’t know it would be that loud…” Scott said sheepishly.

“Yeah, it was loud… And it was awesome!” Stiles cheered.

“Shut up.” Derek barked.

“Don’t be such a sour wolf.” Stiles mocked.

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asked, looking around me.

“What?” Derek asked, I turned to see an empty backseat, “I didn’t do anything…” I saw Scott and Stiles’ eyes widen as pain exploded through my back. Blood gushed from my mouth as I was lifted up. I was coughing and choking on my own blood. Pain and fear were running through me, my heart pumping so quickly causing more and more blood to gush from my mouth. The last thing I saw was the world rushing by me as I was thrown towards the school wall.

I woke up before I made impact. My heart was racing and my back ached. I reached behind myself awkwardly. The only thing I felt was the raised bumpy scar from my stab wound. So it was just a dream, but it felt so real. So…Was it real? Did I just experience Derek…

I looked up at the clock and saw it was well into the early morning. I got up and made my way upstairs, Stiles’ door was slightly open and there was still light inside. I just went in, panic already starting to build in my chest. Stiles was sitting at his computer, he turned and looked up. He looked like he had a long night.

“Stiles, is…” I swallowed thickly, “Is Derek d-…Dead?” My lip was trembling. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it. He avoided my eyes.

“I really don’t know.” He explained what happened at the school that night. How the alpha attacked them and chased them around the school and that when they got out, Derek’s body was gone.

“I don’t know if he crawled off somewhere or if the alpha dragged him away before the cops showed up. But I’m pretty sure I won’t have to go back to school until Monday. We tried to blow the alpha up. And we also kinda blamed Derek for it.”

I shook my head and chuckled, “Nice. Throwing a dead man under the bus, after all he’s done for me.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” He shouted in a hushed tone, “We thought he was dead for sure. But now I don’t know. Besides, we couldn’t give up the big secret to a hunter’s daughter, a dick, and Lydia who has been through enough already.” I nodded and left the room. He called after me but I couldn’t be in the room anymore. Just… they could have blamed anyone. A rabid animal even, but they were blaming Derek. I closed the door and leaned against it, slowly sliding down until I met the floor. My chest felt tight and I wanted to cry. I had cried so much lately I didn’t know if I could. My emotions were running so high and it was so confusing? Why was everything so different?

It was Monday morning and tonight was another full moon, meaning Scott was jumpy and could turn at any moment. The night before they had gone off to “hang” but Stiles was really bad at hiding the alcohol he had taken to get drunk with Scott.

I was eating cereal at the kitchen table when Stiles came down. He was groaning and definitely hungover.

“Booze doesn’t pay, does it?” I smiled.

“You’re more chipper than usual.” He grimaced a bit, holding his head.

“Not chipper, just really good at fakin’ it.” I went in for another spoonful. He looked away, hearing Uncle Noah coming through the kitchen on his phone.

“We are watching his family’s house. Maybe he’ll wind up there?” Uncle Noah looked up, seeing Stiles, “Give me a second.”

“Don’t you have a test to get to?” He asked.

“What’s going on? Did you find Derek yet?” Stiles asked, more pep in his voice.

“I’m working on it. You go take your test.” He said firmly.

“All right, Dad, listen to me-” Stiles stood up.

“Go!” He shouted, I had never heard him shout before.

“This is really important! You have to be careful tonight, okay? Especially tonight.”

“Stiles, I’m always careful.”

“Dad, you’ve never dealt with this kind of thing before, okay? At least, not like this.”

“I know. Which is why I brought in people who have. State detective. Go take your test.” Stiles grumbled but grabbed his book bag and left the house. Uncle Noah sighed and went back to his phone call as he followed Stiles out the door.

Later on in the day, Stiles texted me. He probably shouldn’t be, especially with his test.

STILES: Scott had a panic attack about Allison. He said he might kill someone.

I sighed, my thumbs dancing over the phone screen.

(Y/N): Then we’ll chain him up so he can’t get out. I’ll pick up some chains at the hardware store.

After a stop at the hardware store, I got to the lacrosse fields where Coach Finstock was looking over a list.

“How’s the pink-eye epidemic?” I asked. He rolled his eyes.

“Real good, half of my players had to go on the bench. Goddammit, Greenberg.” I looked over the list.

“Who’s Bilinski?” I squinted at his sloppy writing.

“That one.” He pointed his pen towards Stiles.

“You put Stiles on the first line?” I smiled, perhaps my subtle hints had worked.

“Yeah, and we made McCall co-captain.”

I blew air out of my mouth, “I’m sure Jackson shit a brick.”

He shook his head, “Yeah, he’s not taking it well.” I shrugged and made my way over to the bench where Scott and Stiles were in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t join, just listened in.

“Yeah, she likes you. She’s totally into you.” Scott smirked. Stiles grinned, clearly excited. The She in this scenario could be none other than Lydia Martin. But there was something about Scott’s tone that threw me off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lydia making her way to her seat in the bleachers, pulling out a compact mirror and fixing her lipstick. I didn’t want to believe that Scott would do that to his friend, but the facts were pointing towards it.

Practice seemed to be going well, that is until Scott got pushed over during a practice run. I could practically feel his anger from across the field.

“All right, you’re up, big boy! Let’s go!” Coach called. Scott retaliated this by knocking into another player, and sending him hard on his back. I winced, intaking a breath through my teeth.

“That’s it, McCall! That’s the spirit! You earn it! Earn it, McCall!” Coach grinned. Maybe this is why we had so many players on the bench. Coach could see victory when Scott played. It was Stiles' turn on the offensive against Scott. With the full moon so close, I don’t think their friendship would do Stiles any favors, he shoved Stiles away just as hard and fast as the other player. Each time he got a goal. The next player, Danny, also was a victim of werewolf rage since Scott hit him in the face, sending him to the ground. I grabbed Coach’s whistle and blew it, calling for the play to pause.

I jogged up to Danny and knelt down, some other players surrounded as well.

“Danny, can you hear me?” He nodded slowly, holding his bleeding nose. I stood up, “Take him to the bench guys.” I walked back over to Stiles and Scott.

“Everybody likes Danny. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.”

“I don’t care.” Scott said smugly. Stiles shook his head and went back to the benches.

“What the hell is your problem? You make co-captain and it goes to your head.” I shoved his shoulder. He breathed out, his eyes glowed yellow

“You don’t want to mess with me right now.”

I narrowed my eyes, “Is that a threat?” He smirked, his eyes going up and down my body.

“It could be.” I looked at him in disgust.

“First Lydia and now me? You’re a really shitty friend, Scott.” I made my way back to Stiles who was staring back at the bleachers. Jackson and Lydia were talking.

“He did it.” He whispered. I squeezed his arm lightly. It was going to be a long night.

That night, Stiles and I went to the McCall’s house to get prepared for the full moon. Stiles carried a duffle bag to the best of his ability, even though it had the steel chains and locks I had bought. One of the only reasons I came was so if I needed to I could get him out quickly. The other was because I didn’t know how he would react to the situation with Lydia. Stiles unlocked the door and went inside. Did Mrs. McCall know he had a key?“

Scott?” We heard her call. Mrs. McCall turned the corner and saw us in the hallway. She was in her scrubs, probably going in for a late night shift.

“Stiles.”

“And (Y/N).” I waved.

“Ah.” Her eyes went to Stiles' hand, she pointed, “Key.”

“Oh, yeah, I had one made.” Well, that answers that question.

“That doesn’t surprise me. It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me” And then, like a buffoon, Stiles dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud.

“What is that?”

“Uh, school project.” He lied. Mrs. McCall, who either believed the lie or just wanted to change the subject, asked: “He’s okay, right?”

“Who, Scott? Yeah, totally.” Stiles lied.

“He just doesn’t talk to me, not much anymore. Not like he used to.” She said somberly. I could only imagine that’s how my mom felt when I went into high school and into a phase where parents were uncool.

“Well, he had a bit of a rough week.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Yeah. Um, okay. Uh, be careful tonight.”

“You, too.”

“Full moon.” She looked out the window. Stiles and I stiffened.

“What?”

“There’s a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets. Brings out all the nutjobs.”

“Oh.” He breathed out, both of our shoulders dropped.

“Yeah…” She said awkwardly.

“Right…”

“You know, it’s, um, actually where they came up with the word "lunatic.”

We opened the door to Scott’s room. Stiles dropped the duffel and turned on the lights. We both jumped when we saw Scott sitting in his computer chair.

“Oh my god.” I put a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath.

“Dude, you scared the hell out of us. Your mom said you weren’t home.”

“I came in through the window.” he said blankly. Stiles and I shared a glance.

“Okay, um, let’s get this set up.” Stiles bent down to get into the duffel bag that was near the radiator, “(Y/N) got the heavy duty stuff.” I kept my distance from Scott, staying right by the door, ready to grab Stiles and book it.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, causing us both to stare, “I’m just gonna lock the door and turn in early.” We all knew a door wouldn’t stop him, he had other plans in mind.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, “Cause you got this kinda serial killer look goin’ on in your eyes. I’m hopin’ it’s the full moon taking effect cause it’s starting to freak me out.”

“I’m fine.” Scott repeated, “You should both go home.”

“Alright, we’ll leave.” He stood up then stopped, clearly trying to put his back up plan into motion, ‘Well would you at least look in the bag and see what we bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t.”

“Just in case you’re feeling a little anxious.” I smiled. Scott got up and walked to the duffel bag. He bent down and pulled out the thick, metal chains.

“You’re thinking I would put these on? Chain me up like a dog?” He snarled and dropped the chains.

“Actually, no.” Stiles quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and slapped him on Scott’s wrist, chaining him to the heater. I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away when Scott lunged.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott growled.

“Protecting you from yourself.” Stiles sighed and glared, “And giving you payback. For making out with Lydia.” And there it was. Maybe I should have checked the bag for other items he bought. He went downstairs, leaving me and Scott in the bedroom.

“(Y/N), uncuff me!” He struggled.

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t have the key.”

He lunged and growled, causing me to jump. I looked away, embarrassed that I was showing him that I was afraid. But I was afraid. I’ve known this kid practically his entire life and he was turning into a completely different and dangerous person.

“You like that? Hmm?” He hummed suggestively. I shook my head, talking to him was probably going to just make things worse. Thankfully, Stiles had come back…with a dog bowl.

“I brought you some water.” He said, pouring water from a bottle into the bowl and setting it down in front of Scott.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU” Scott roared and threw the bowl at Stiles.

“Stiles…” I whispered. The situation was getting dangerous.

“You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed Lydia. And that’s my…The one girl that I have-'' Stiles shook his head, “You know, for the past three hours, I’ve been thinking it’s probably just the full moon, you know? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing and tomorrow he’ll be back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been. A son of a bitch. A frickin’ unbelievable piece of crap friend.”

“She kissed me.” Scott interrupted.

“What?” Stiles looked so betrayed.

Scott grinned menacingly, “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me.” Stiles glared and walked out of the room, I followed behind.

“She had her hands all over me, she would have done anything I wanted! ANYTHING!” Scott’s voice rang through the house. Stiles paced back and forth outside the door.

“Stiles?” Scott called through the door, “Please let me out. It’s the full moon, I swear! You know I wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. Stiles, let me out. This is starting to hurt. You said it, Stiles, it’s the full moon. It’s Allison breaking up with me. It’s not just a break, she broke up with me. It’s killing me! I’m feeling hopeless. Just let me out.” Stiles paused, looking towards the door. I looked him in the eye, shaking my head.

“He’s just trying to make you feel bad.”

Stiles nodded, “I can’t.” He called.

“No! No no no!” Scott shouted, followed by screaming. And then silence. Stiles opened the door, Scott was gone. Only broken handcuffs remained. I grabbed a set of chains and started going downstairs.

“Stiles, stay here.”

“(Y/N)!” He called, grabbing my arm before I went out the door.

“Stay put.” I glared, shutting the door behind me. Scott was a sweet kid normally. But if I needed to keep Stiles safe and if that meant knocking out a couple of his teeth then I would. I went around back to his window and followed the path of broken grass into the woods. I gripped onto the chains tightly, ready to swing if I needed to. My plan had been to knock him out and chain him to a tree. Not sure how well that would work though.

I stopped in a clearing, having lost the trail. Behind me a twig snapped. I’ve always been an act first, ask questions later in these situations. I swung the chain, cracking Scott across the face. My eyes widened at the state of him. Like Derek, he had coarse hair growing down his cheeks, the bridge of his nose was scrunched up and appeared more animal like, his brow bone protruded. His jawline though? Still weird.

Scott’s head had swung to the side with the chain, he looked back slowly, and glared as he spit blood onto the ground. The scrape on his cheek healed almost immediately.

Ha ha, I’m in danger.

“Scott.” I said cautiously, taking a slow step back, “You know me. I’m your friend.” He wasn’t moving closer, but he also hadn’t stopped looking at me with his glowing yellow eyes like I was food.

“So, uh, you blow off your steam. Do some running, clear your head, that good stuff. And I will see you tomorrow. Okay?” I smiled nervously, he didn’t answer, “Okay.” Now it was time to run since I had gotten myself a decent head start. I turned and ran, hearing a roar and footsteps behind me. I threw the chains back over my head, hoping to trip him or hit him in the head. That didn’t seem to do much since he didn’t slow down.

All at once I was body slammed to the ground and turned on my back. Scott was sitting on top of me, leaning down he roared loudly in my face. His large pointed canines shone in the moonlight.

I screamed, shoving and kicking at him, “SCOTT! SCOTT PLEASE!” He thrusted a clawed hand down towards my chest that I barely caught. He seemed slightly confused, but pushed down. I whined, using everything I had keeping his sharp claws from my chest. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Scott, please don’t hurt me.” I begged through my teeth. He roared again, raising his other arm to strike when something flashed across my vision. Whatever it was, it knocked Scott off of me. I gasped for air, my lungs and muscles were screaming at me. The two began to fight, growling and snarling. I sat up, scrambling to get out of the direction of the brawl. I couldn’t see much in the dark since the clouds had covered the moon, but whoever it was got Scott on the ground, roaring down at him. The other stood up straight just as the moon’s light peaked through. And there stood Derek Hale - tall, proud, and very much alive.

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

Read part 7 here!

Oh boy, who could have seen that coming? Anyone who’s seen season 1, that’s who.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Comment below or message me about being on the taglist :)

You Saved Me tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs (hi eggy)

#derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

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chickwiththepurpleguitar · 3 years

Note

You said to put a rebuke prompt in here sO what about a sickfic? Luke is sick and Reggie and Bobby try to take care of him but then Reggie gets sick and all that's left is a grumpy Bobby who is tired of their dumbassery

Sorry this took so long. I hope you like it!! My first try at rebuke, but hopefully not my last ;)

read on ao3 here!

The minute Bobby gets to school, he knows today’s going to be kind of a disaster.

His first clue? Luke’s not there yet. He’s not exactly late, and isn’t in any real danger of being so—it’s only 7:30, and the first bell doesn’t ring until 7:55—but if Bobby’s being honest, he can’t remember the last time Luke wasn’t early. Usually, by the time Bobby gets to school, Luke’s already bouncing around the halls somewhere, playing his guitar in the stairwell or pretending to flirt with girls outside the library or trying to break into Bobby’s locker because Bobby refuses to give Luke his combination.

Luke doesn’t like school, but he likes being at home even less. And at least at school, his friends are there.

His friends are there now—two of them at least—but Luke isn’t.

It just doesn’t bode well for things to come, in Bobby’s opinion.

“Hey,” Reggie says when he meets Bobby at his locker, blindly bumping Bobby’s fist as he glances up and down the hallway. “Luke’s not here yet?”

“Guess not.” Bobby shuts his locker and shoulders his backpack. “Alex still home sick?”

“Think so,” Reggie confirms with a nod. “He said on the phone last night he was gonna try to be back today for a Spanish test, but I don’t know, he sounded pretty rough.”

Bobby grimaces. “Better he stay home and not infect the rest of us. He can always retake a Spanish test.”

“Yeah, but you know Alex.” Reggie shrugs. “If he’s not back, can I come over tonight? Since we won’t rehearse, I mean, just—just to hang out?”

A smile pulls at Bobby’s lips as his stomach does a weird, not unpleasant, flip flop. “Yeah, man, of course you can. Luke too?”

Reggie grins. “Of course!”

Bobby nods and turns back to his locker, fiddling pointlessly with the lock so that Reggie won’t see him blushing.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Alex—he does, a lot—he just… likes Alex as a friend. And he likes Reggie… and Luke… more than that… or differently… or something.

It’s stupid, and hell if Bobby knows how to put the damn thing into words, but… he figures the more time he gets to spend with just Luke and Reggie, the better. Even if it means taking advantage of the few times Alex isn’t available to make plans.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Reggie and Bobby hang around his locker, talking about their gig coming up in a couple weeks and the math homework Bobby didn’t do and whether it’s likely for Bobby’s finicky TV to be working well enough for them to play Super Mario Bros. after school today.

At 7:52, just when they’re starting to consider giving up and going to class, Luke appears at his own locker, about halfway down the hall.

“Hey, there you are!” Reggie calls, bouncing over to him. “We thought you weren’t gonna show up today.”

Bobby follows, and the closer he gets to Luke, the more dread bubbles up in his stomach. Luke slumps against his locker, not even reacting to Reggie’s words. He looks pale and flushed at the same time, his nose and cheeks an alarming shade of cherry, and his hands tremble slightly as he tries to put his locker combination in.

Bobby stops short a good ten feet away as the pieces fall into place in his head, and before he can think of the right thing to say, what comes out is, “You look like shit.”

Luke’s response is a little delayed. When he does raise his eyes to Bobby, they’re glassy and dull, and his self-deprecating laugh and mumbled little, “Thanks, Bobs, that’s real nice,” come out so painfully hoarse that Bobby swears he feels his own throat sting in sympathy.

He takes another step back. Luke doesn’t just look terrible; he looks contagious.

Reggie, it seems, has no such reservations. He sidles right up to Luke and slings an arm around his shoulders; Luke immediately leans back into Reggie’s hold, his expression crumpling with relief like maybe he was having trouble holding up his weight on his own.

“Aw, Luke,” Reggie coos, rubbing Luke’s arm. “Did you catch Alex’s cold?”

“No,” Luke grumbles petulantly, and then contradicts himself by coughing into Reggie’s shoulder (Bobby flinches). “Maybe,” Luke amends. “But it’s Alex’s dumb saliva’s fault.”

Bobby’s stomach flips again. This time, it’s a little unpleasant. When have Luke and Alex been… sharing saliva?

“Well, Luke, bro, you shouldn’t have taken a sip of his drink when you knew he wasn’t feeling well,” Reggie chides, parental but for the most part unconcerned.

Luke pouts. “But he had a milkshake, and I couldn’t afford to get my own, and it seemed like a good idea in the moment, it was yummy!”

Relief surges through Bobby so intensely he almost feels faint with it—so Luke and Alex weren’t kissing. Okay. Good.

Not that he should have any say in what his friends do with their mouths on their own time, he just… he’d like to know about it ahead of time, if at all possible. Maybe be involved himself sometimes, that’d be nice.

Again. Stupid.

“Why are you even here?” Bobby asks, and it comes out harsher than he meant it to; Reggie and Luke both look up at him, frowning. He clears his throat and tries to soften his tone. “I mean. You should’ve stayed home, if you’re sick.”

Luke grimaces, and reluctantly pulls out of Reggie’s grip when the bell rings shrilly above them. “Mom wouldn’t let me,” he says with a wet sniff, yanking his locker open and grabbing a stack of books seemingly at random. “I didn’t have a fever, and I may have been known to fake a cold to get out of stuff once or twice… a month…” He shrugs, and drags a wrist under his nose. “Guess I wasn’t convincing enough this time.”

“This wasn’t convincing?” Bobby’s backed up another few feet, unable to take his eyes off Luke’s dripping nose, which he just wiped with his hand—God, who raised him? How and why in God’s green earth does Bobby ever find him attractive?

“In Mrs. P’s defense,” Reggie says cheerfully, “Luke’s really good at faking.”

Luke slams his locker closed. “Whatever, I’m fine. Let’s just get to class, Bobby. We’ll see you later, Reg.”

He starts, stumbling, down the hallway, toward the history class he and Bobby share. Bobby and Reggie exchange a look behind his back—Reggie’s is concerned, Bobby’s more than a little disgusted.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Reggie pleads. “Just until I see you guys at lunch?”

Bobby glances over at Luke, who’s paused a little ways down the hall to have a coughing fit into the crook of his arm—sleeveless, of course. “How close an eye are we talking?”

Reggie’s smile turns tolerant. “Please, Bobby? For me?”

Well, fuck, what is he supposed to say to that? He nods, stammers out a reply, and turns toward his classroom, just in time to see Luke careen forward with a spraying, uncovered sneeze.

Bobby shudders, hefts his backpack a little higher on his shoulder, and tries not to breathe.

“He better not get me sick,” he grumbles to himself, and goes to drag Luke into class.

***

They get about fifteen, twenty minutes in before Bobby starts to think, yeah, no, no way in hell this is gonna work.

Luke is struggling.

First of all, he can barely sit up straight and keep his eyes open, much less pay attention to the lecture, so Bobby highly doubts he’s learning anything. He sniffles more than breathes, coughs more than talks, and gets up out of his seat to get a tissue from the front of the room so often that their teacher Mrs. Carroll eventually just nods for him to take the whole box back to his desk.

Every time he sneezes, Bobby cringes and scoots his desk a few more inches away. Every time he coughs, Bobby sinks lower in his chair, trying to surreptitiously pull the collar of his hoodie over his mouth. Every time he blows his nose, and just leaves the dirty tissues sitting in a gross little pile on his desk, Bobby wonders how the fuck they’re even friends.

When the bell rings, Luke slumps back in his chair and coughs into a fresh wad of tissues for a full minute and a half, while their classmates file out of the room around them, giving Luke grossed-out looks as they pass.

Bobby doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed on Luke’s behalf, considering they’re totally justified in their disgust. Mrs. Carroll catches his eye from her desk at the front of the classroom, and before she can so much as mouth, Maybe you should take him to the nurse, Bobby nods and holds up a finger as if to say, No, yeah, I’m on it.

“Hey,” he says, kicking the leg of Luke’s chair. “Pack up your stuff, sicky, you’re going home.”

Luke frowns at him, tissues still held over his face, muffling his already stuffy protest. “What? No, I’m—”

“Shut up,” Bobby cuts him off. “I don’t care if you claim you’re fine, I don’t care if your mom will be pissed, you look and sound like shit, I’m taking you back to my place until someone can pick you up. No arguments, you hear me?”

Luke just looks at him for a moment, and Bobby worries he’s going to fight back again, but then something shifts in his expression, and he just looks so tired all of a sudden. “Yeah,” he croaks. “Yeah, okay, I—I think that’s probably a good idea.”

Bobby lets out a breath. “Good. Me too.”

It takes longer than it should to get Luke out of his seat and to the door, even after Bobby takes his books from him so that all Luke has to carry is his box of tissues. Mrs. Carroll writes them both hall passes, and doesn’t fight Bobby when he says he probably won’t be back for her government class in the afternoon.

They walk slowly down the school hallway, Luke leaning heavily into Bobby’s side so he doesn’t stumble. Bobby almost manages not to think about the germs Luke is almost definitely passing to him, because his own health doesn’t matter as much as Luke’s right now. Bobby’s worry for him is hotter, more present, in his chest than any anxiety or germaphobia.

And that worry only grows when they get to the nurse’s office and find Reggie sitting on a plastic-covered bed waiting for them.

“There you guys are!” he says cheerfully, grinning and swinging his legs like a kid. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d last the whole period.”

“The hell are you doing here?” Bobby asks as he guides Luke into a chair.

“Felt like I was gonna throw up,” Reggie explains, then gives Bobby an exaggerated wink he doesn’t understand.

“You did? Are you okay?”

Reggie’s brows knit together. “No—Bobby, that’s just what I told Miss Ellison so I could get out of English class. I wanted to meet you guys down here so I could go with you when you leave.”

Bobby frowns. There’s a lot going on today, he doesn’t have a whole lot of brainpower to spend on Reggie’s riddles. And he’s definitely missing something here.

Apparently, Luke is just as confused. “Wait,” he croaks, sniffling and slumped over in his chair. “You’re sick, too, Reg?”

Reggie rolls his eyes. “No, Luke, not really. I just pretended so that I could go home with you guys. You are going home, right?”

“Yeah, he barely lasted one class, he’s not staying the whole day,” Bobby says, ignoring the petulant glare Luke shoots him.

“Then I’m going with you.” Reggie glances nervously between them. “Unless… you don’t want me to?”

“No,” Luke says quickly. “No, I want both of you. Please.”

Reggie grins. Bobby’s stomach flips.

“Fine, I guess we’re all sick, then,” he grumbles, ducking his head to hide his blush, and points to Luke and Reggie each in turn. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

It’s unfairly easy for Bobby to convince the nurse to let him drive Luke and Reggie home, since they’re both “so sick” (he doesn’t even have to pretend to be sick himself. The nurse takes one look at Luke and agrees to let Bobby go with him for no reason, if only to get his germ-ridden friend off school property).

It’s a little less easy to call Emily Patterson at work and explain to her that he’s Luke’s friend, no, ma’am, he’s really sick, I don’t mind taking him back to my house until you get off work, yes, ma’am, I’ll make sure he gets all his homework, etc, etc, etc.

Reggie’s parents don’t even pick up. Bobby has a fake conversation with “Reggie’s dad” just so he can tell the nurse with some level of confidence that Reggie’s been given permission to go home with him, too. He’s not sure she believes him. He doesn’t think she cares.

“You’re gonna get sick,” Bobby says when he returns to find Luke lying on the bed with his eyes closed, head in Reggie’s lap, sniffling into Reggie’s pant leg while Reggie strokes his hair back out of his face.

“I think he’s got a fever now,” he says, which is not at all a response to what Bobby said. “Are we ready to go?”

Bobby gives a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

***

As Luke gets worse, he also gets clingier. Which, really, Bobby should’ve expected. It’s one thing in the car, where Bobby can roll the windows down and focus on driving while Luke stretches out all over Reggie in the backseat, coughing and sniffling and ignoring Bobby whenever he reminds him to cover his damn mouth.

Once they get back to his house, though, Bobby washes his hands about fifteen times in a row, then heads into the studio with the intention of recommending that Reggie do the same, only to find Reggie and Luke curled up on the pull-out couch together, fast asleep.

For a minute or two, Bobby just stands there, watching them. Both of them idiots, one of them disgusting, and yet… god, he loves both of them so much. How fucking stupid is that?

Luke’s gonna get Reggie sick, if he hasn’t already; that’s just an inevitability at this point. And then one or both of them is going to get Bobby sick, and it’s going to suck, because colds always hit Bobby super hard for no good reason, which is why he tries so hard to avoid catching them.

But a few days of misery is worth it, he guesses, if he can spend today taking Luke’s temperature and rubbing his back and forcing Vitamin C on both him and Reggie until they’re both sick of him.

And at least, whatever happens, he can blame this whole thing on Alex.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @molinapattersons @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #fanfiction #my fics #rebuke #bibobceps #bobby wilson #bobby shaw #reggie peters #luke patterson #sickfic #prompt fill #500 followers aaaah!!!

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browniefox · 3 years

Text

@wrightfamilyweek day 1 - Pride and Joy :D

This is a sequel to my oneshot ‘Trucy and the Week Long Paranoia Game’ that you can read here.

Phoenix and Trucy talk about reasons for adopting someone.

oOo

It’s the end of a week of fear and worry and anxiety, and twenty-four hours spent on a plane. A moment of silence from all the questions rattling through her head, with Mr. Miles Edgeworth behind her, and now Trucy is back in California, back home, and her daddy is right there. The next thing to do is all too clear.

Trucy hugs her daddy and cries.

After Trucy has bawled into Daddy’s shoulder for what feels like a week and Daddy’s tears have drenched her hair, and her face has been covered in layers and layers of kisses, Daddy finally pulls away from her, a clear reluctance to the action, and grabs onto Miles’ hand. Then, with a quick and sudden yank that makes the man stumble, Daddy pulls Miles into hug too.

“God, Miles, really, thank you.” Daddy says fervently, insistently.

“Nnngh, o-of course.” Miles says. His words come out a little haltingly, but he returns the hug almost immediately.

“If… if you’re already here, you know, you should stay for a bit.” Daddy tells Miles. With them hugging like that, Trucy bets that Miles can’t see Daddy’s face, how hopeful it looks right then.

“... perhaps you’re right. It’s a long trip across the ocean, and a hard one to make in quick succession like your daughter just has. Perhaps we could meet up… tomorrow?” Miles offers.

“Well, my office-”

“Does not have nearly enough room to put up another person. I’ll see you tomorrow, Wright. Go home and… and talk to your daughter.” Miles’ eyes flicker over to her and he whispers something into Daddy’s ear. Daddy nods, looks at her too, and then nods again.

“Okay,” Daddy gives Miles a pat on the back, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Trucy sees how Daddy’s hand lingers on Miles shoulder for one, two, three seconds before he steps back to Trucy. He ruffles her hair and gives her forehead yet another kiss and squishes her face in his hands, all familiar actions from him, all things he’s done before. Something feels off about each and every one of them. She isn’t sure what makes them different. Maybe it’s him. Maybe it’s her.

It must be her. Her fault. From running away.

Trucy still feels gross from the plane ride, and there’s a brief moment where she thinks she might just throw up again. She doesn’t. What she does do is grab onto Daddy’s hand, holding onto it tightly. Her hand fits perfectly like that. Daddy squeezes her hand back just as tightly. With that, the two of them and Miles walk out of the airport.

There’s a big man waiting for them outside. She recognizes him, but only barely. His name is far more familiar to Trucy, the Detective Dick Gumshoe of Daddy’s old case files, the man who worked most of the murders that Daddy’s clients were accused of. Daddy had shown her a picture of the Detective, once, and told her that if she was ever in trouble and needed police help, she should talk to Gumshoe, because Gumshoe is a good man, and a friend, and she can trust him. Unless she’s been arrested, in which case nobody is her friend and she shouldn’t say or do anything until she’s talked to a lawyer.

(Trucy remembers right after her First Daddy disappeared how a bunch of policemen tried to talk to her about it, and her Daddy - then just Phoenix Wright, just the old boy who she’d handed off a piece of paper to and was supposed to help her First Daddy - telling her that she didn’t have to say anything, didn’t have to tell the policemen anything, even if they were being really mean or really nice or kept asking the same questions or it was going on for a really long time. He told her that just before policemen took him away so they could talk to him, too.)

“Oh good, she is okay,” Gumshoe sighs in relief, visibly slumping with emotion. He then sees Miles and his back straightens right out, “Mr. Edgeworth, sir, good to see you again!”

“Likewise, Gumshoe.” Miles says, his mouth twitching into a bare-bones smile. Despite its thin appearance, the expression has an odd kind of warmth to it that surprises Trucy. Miles had been kind throughout the entire flight, but also clearly uncomfortable, not talking to her much. He seemed to try and distract himself with anything and everything he could, but there was a tension and rigidness throughout his entire form from the moment the plane took off until it landed. He kept looking at her almost like he expected her to explode, like a bomb. Now, though, Miles looks much more in control of himself as well as his surroundings, “I’ll admit, however, that I’m surprised to find the police already on this case. I thought a missing person couldn’t be reported until twenty-four hours have passed.”

“Well, not officially, no, but I might’ve seen what I could do, you know, just with my own time.” Gumshoe says, scratching the back of his head. Daddy grins and pats Gumshoe on the back.

“Dick came running as soon as he heard. Really put up with me those first twelve hours.” Daddy says.

“Well, just because police work slow doesn’t mean we always have to! And, well, it’s your girl, we all know how much you worry about her.”

The three adults talk some more, but the sound of their voices seems to fade away as Trucy stares down at her shoes. Daddy was worried about her. Of course he was, but he’d been worried the entire time. She feels silly, now, for having run away, for having doubted him. But even then, even now, she isn’t sure what he wants from her. ‘Nothing’ is the answer, apparently, but still, still the other shoe feels like it’s hovering at eye-level, just waiting to drop.

Daddy’s still holding her hand. She gives it a squeeze, and he squeezes it back, and she tunes back into the three talking adults.

“Well, since I’m here, I can give you a ride to wherever it is you need to get to!” Gumshoe offers Miles.

“Hm, I already ordered a ride, but perhaps you could drive me by the prosecutor’s office before I head to my hotel. Wright, why don’t you take my ride.” Miles offers. Daddy stiffens slightly, in that way he does when a game looks like it’s starting to slip through his fingers, or when people on the street give him weird looks and start whispering and she gives his hand yet another squeeze.

“Miles, I really don’t-”

“Wright, it’s already been paid for. I, of course, have no issue letting such a frivolous amount of money go by, but there’s little to no reason to let something like this pass you by when you’re this far from the office at this hour of night, when most buses have already stopped working.” Miles says it with swiftness and clarity, leaving no room for argument. Daddy, however, still looks like he might try and argue anyway, so Trucy adds in her own opinion, tugging, Daddy’s arm a little and saying,

“Daddy, I wanna go home.”

The stubborn-expression that had been forming onto his face melts away almost immediately.

“Alright, let’s go home.” He says.

Daddy exchanges another hug with Miles and then one with Gumshoe. Gumshoe puts out his hand to give Trucy a handshake, but she gives him a big hug anyway and he chuckles, something that shakes through his entire chest, that she can feel when held up against it like that. It’s very nice. She might just like Gumshoe. Miles starts to go for a handshake, then aborts it halfway through, and gives her an awkward pat on the head.

“Be good for your father.” He says with a certain amount of ferventness.

“I will.” She tells him. She grabs the sleeve of his shirt and pulls on it until he catches on and kneels down to her level. Then, she gives him a pat on the head right back. He looks surprised, and Daddy laughs. Miles surprised expression morphs into a scowl, but there’s no heat behind it as he stands back up, rolling his shoulders and crossing his arms.

“I’ll be off then. I shall stop by your office tomorrow around noon. Please try and tidy it up, Maya tells me you’ve made the place into a hellscape.” He says hauntily.

“No promises.” Daddy says.

Miles and Gumshoe leave, and then she and daddy climb into a car. The stranger in the front offers them his ipad to play games on, but Daddy rejects it. Trucy mainly stares out the window, and when she looks over, Daddy is too. His hand is out, though, still holding onto hers.

The car drops them off at the hotel across from the office, and they cross the street and climb the stairs back to home. The night is dark and quiet, and Trucy can’t help but to think it feels like a calm before a storm. She’s seen Daddy frustrated before, and get in fights with others before, but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him be well and truly mad. Now was probably as good a time as any, though. She wonders if it’ll be like Grandpa’s anger, all cold and silent. Maybe it’ll be like first Daddy’s, loud and raging, just barely a second away from throwing something.

“I know you’re tired, Trucy, but we need to talk.” Daddy says before Trucy can slip into her room. Slowly, she walks away from her door. He’s sitting on the couch, and he pats the spot next to him. She hops up. Daddy runs a hand over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin. He’s looking straight forward, not at her.

“Yes Daddy?” Trucy says. Daddy sighs, ending back on the couch, now looking up at the ceiling.

“... Trucy, you know I want what’s best for you, right?”

Trucy doesn’t know what to say to that at first, and the moment stretches on for far far too long. Daddy sighs again.

“I know that, but…” Trucy bites on her lip, “But isn’t there something else you want?”

“‘Something else I want’?” Daddy repeats. Trucy is avoiding looking at him. Her heart has relocated to her throat and her stomach is doing somersaults.

“I-it’s okay, I know I’m… but whatever it is you want from me, I just wanna know, okay?” Trucy swings her feet.

“Truce, why do you think I want something from you?” Daddy presses. Trucy shrugs and swings her feet harder.

“That’s what parents do. And after I… after what I…” She tries and tries and tries to say she gave him the piece of paper that got him disbarred, that she knows she did, that she’s really really sorry about it, but the words all stick to her tongue and get bungled up inside of her. Her face is getting hot, and her eyes are getting hot, and her chest feels like it’s going to explode.

“... Trucy, if you’re not happy here, you know you just have to tell me. Your happiness is what’s most important, okay?”

“But I am happy here!” Trucy wails, and just like that the flood gates give way and she starts sobbing. She turns and grabs onto her Daddy, crying into his soft gray hoodie, and he wraps her up in another hug, holding her close to him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, hey it’s alright, I’m right here.” He says, a constant mumbling mantra. And he is right there, and he’s nice,and great, and willing to listen to her, and play with her. He’s not perfect, but he’s definitely trying, she can see that, she knows that.

“... j-j-just please, tell-tell me what you w-w-want from me! Please, Daddy!” Trucy cries, trembling, “M-Miles says you don’t want anything, b-but-but that can’t be right! You-you gotta want something! I-is it my help-help-help with poker? Is it revenge against my Daddy somehow? Is-is-is it something else! Please just t-t-t-tell me!” Trucy buries her face even more into him. He’s rubbing circles into her back, making little soothing ‘shush’ing sounds. He doesn’t say anything until she’s quieted down a bit.

“I guess I should’ve expected it was something big. Why else would you go all the way to Germany over it, huh?” He mumbles, “Truce, I didn’t have some kind of secret or evil motive behind taking you in. You were a kid, all alone. It wasn’t really a choice at all. I know what it’s like, to feel like the whole world is against you, and you’re alone and little and confused about what’s going on. I didn’t even think about how it might’ve looked to you. Or, well, I guess Miles brought it up, but I didn’t want to think about it.

“I… I am selfish, maybe, for wanting you to stay here. Trucy, you’re one of the few good things that have come to me in the past year, alright? Seeing you perform, seeing your smile, hearing your laughter… it means the world to me, okay? And if you’re not happy here - no, let me finish - if you’re not happy here, we can find somewhere where you can be, okay? I know I’m not like Zak; I don’t let you perform whenever you want, and I try to keep more track of your location, and I imagine it must be hard adjusting to my rules instead of the ones you were raised with. But I’m willing to learn and get better. And if that means starting with telling you that you matter to me, Trucy, that I love you, and that my reason for adopting you and keeping you around is just because I love you and the light you give my life, then I’ll start there, okay?”

Daddy gives her a small smile. He’s so open right now, and honest, no little tells twitching upon him.

Trucy squeezes onto his lap and lets herself be held for even longer.

Daddy isn’t Grandpa, or first Daddy, or Vallant, or anybody from the circus. He’s just Daddy, and maybe Trucy is still trying to figure out what htat means, but Daddy is trying to figure that out too.

They’re going to figure it out together.

“I love you, Daddy,” She tells him, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

#wrightweek21 #ace attorney #wright family week #phoenix wright #trucy wright #fanfiction #fanfic #browniefox writes

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

Same Smile

Huge thanks to my wonderful girlfriend @spiky-lesbian and my amazing friend @minky-for-short for the inspiration and listening to me reigniting my widomauk obsession.

Please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

------

Caleb Widogast did not know his husband, Mollymauk Tealeaf, had an identical brother.

He didn't know his husband had two identical brothers.

He didn't know one of those identical brothers is on shore leave and was sitting on his couch. Not until he kissed him, anyway.

Basically a Modern AU where all of the tenants of the Tealeaf body are identical triplets!

------

Caleb dropped his satchel on the floor with a dull, heavy thunk. He tried to find it in him to care when one of the overtaxed buckles popped open and a pen, some student’s papers and a handful of crystals spilled across the hall rug. That could be a problem for tomorrow morning.

But for tonight he’d had a very, very long day. He’d had two seminars where none of his students had done the reading, a lab demonstration that had gone horribly wrong and made him smell like ammonia all day, he’d had to eat lunch on the train to make it to the bookshop on time only to find the day’s delivery was wrong and he’d ended up with hundreds of copies of a medical textbook that was very informative but probably weren’t going to sell very well. All in all it had been a pretty shit day and a burst buckle was not going to muscle its way in on top of all that.

Caleb had a very narrow, very selective list of what was going to be allowed in the rest of his day. And top of that list was finding his husband, slumping down next to him and pressing his face to the curve of his neck where the scent of his perfume was the strongest. Next on that list was letting his son sit on his lap and do that adorable thing he’d been doing lately where he rubbed his head all over his papa while babbling contentedly, almost like he was just telling Caleb about his day. Next was his daughter curling around his shoulders and purring loudly right next to his ear.

And that was about it, honestly. Maybe a cup of tea.

Caleb hung up his coat and scarf, both of them still dusted with drizzle from outside, kicking his shoes into the corner. He half considered going and putting his pyjamas on but that wasn’t on the list, he just needed to have Molly run his fingers through his hair to work the knots out of it and tell him everything was okay, that he was home now.

Molly was curled up on the sofa, the slightly tatty one with it back to the door. He had his hair loose, just pushed back from his face with a thin leather headband. It looked nice, Caleb made a vague mental note to tell him so.

“Hey,” Caleb leaned over the edge of the sofa, already smiling just from the closeness, “You would not believe the day I’ve had…”

He didn’t give his husband a chance to answer, just kissing him softly, catching his lips halfway through forming a word. Caleb melted into it, putting his hand to his face, stoking his thumb across a cheek that was slightly rougher than he remembered it being that morning.

Caleb froze, eyes snapping open.

He yanked himself backwards, face completely expressionless as he stared at this person he’d just kissed. This person who absolutely, definitely was not his Mollymauk.

That person grinned crookedly, “I think you’re still having it, Red.”

Whenever Caleb was confronted by sudden panic, his brain chose to cope with it by shutting down entirely, by going into some kind of distant stand-by mode like a computer overwhelmed by a virus and choosing to simply crash in response.

Which was probably why he responded to this stranger that looked exactly but not exactly enough like his husband, sitting on his sofa and who he’d just passionately, mistakenly kissed, by opening his mouth and saying, “You’re not on the list.”

The stranger’s lopsided grin didn’t fade, the same sharp teeth that lived in Mollymauk’s mouth flashing but a few of these were cracked, one entirely made out of dentist’s acrylic, like this person had been punched in the face a few times. They were also wearing black leathers mostly, a sleeveless tunic that billowed out into a coat, a tight white shirt underneath and close fitting pants. And the tattoos weren’t right, he had them for certain but the designs and placement were wrong, these were heavily done in stark black and showed mostly waves and coordinates and compasses. They looked like homemade stick and poke jobs. The jewellery wasn’t as heavy either, seaglass threaded onto leather and thin gold chains.

Not Mollymauk. Definitely not Mollymauk.

“You must be Caleb,” they chuckled knowingly, “Nice to finally meet you.”

Caleb was saved from having to think of where to go from there by footfalls on the creaky floorboards in the hallway and Mollymauk appearing in the doorway. His actual Mollymauk, he glanced up and down him and confirmed it- the heavy gems hanging from his horns, the bright flowing coat and high boots, the scars that littered his neck and collarbone, the stretch marks that peeked between the waist of his leggings and his crop top.

What threw Caleb for a moment was the slightly harried, slightly exasperated expression on his face. He could count on both hands the amount of times he’d actually seen Mollymauk look stressed like that. Also the fact that he was holding a tray on which he’d actually gone to the effort of arranging two mugs that almost matched, sugar in a little bowl, a milk bottle, a handful of spoons.

Molly’s red eyes flickered between them for a moment before his face slumped into an expression of equal parts guilt and defeat. Like the face of someone who’d forgotten to water someone’s beloved houseplant and had been caught in the middle of replacing it.

“Oh,” he said in an attempt at cheeriness that was edged with too much tiredness to be convincing, “So you’ve met already…”

“A little more than that,” the Not Mollymauk laughed, leaning back casually and kicking their boots up onto the scuffed coffee table, “Your husband’s a good kisser, Moll.”

Caleb gave a strangled squeak of alarm, all that he could come up with in his own defence while his brain was still in static mode, feeling his face flush a hot, prickly red.

Molly just shook his head, an exhausted kind of realisation tightening his already tight smile, “Um...Caleb, this is Kingsley. Kingsley is, uh...he’s my brother.”

Caleb stared at him blankly, metally tearing through his files for any hint that his husband had mentioned a brother before and coming up empty, “Your...he’s not on my list, Mollymauk.”

Molly tilted his head slightly and gently skipped over that, shooting Caleb a brief, pleading look that promised an explanation later. He moved past Caleb to set the tray down on the coffee table, his tail giving an irritated flick to move his apparent brother’s feet out of the way first.

Kingsley moved, apparently completely unfazed by anything that had happened so far, “He’s cute, Moll, where did you find him? When you told me you’d shacked up with a professor of all things, I was expecting someone a little more-”

“We met at one of my shows,” Molly cut across him, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence, “We were friends for years and then we got together. And he isn’t just a professor, he’s got the bookshop too.”

“Gods, your band!” Kingsley laughed, folding his legs up underneath him instead, “I remember that, you and Yash and that busted old guitar you had...I mean, fuck man, if he still married you after hearing you play, you know it’s true love.”

Molly gave a noncommittal grunt, pushing one of the mugs at him perhaps a little harder than he needed to.

Caleb hesitantly moved to sit in a chair off to the side, still quite unsure what to do. He was so distracted he almost sat on Frumpkin, who huffed and slithered into his master’s lap, glaring through slitted eyes at this doppelganger of someone he already wasn’t fond of.

“But yeah, like I was saying,” Kingsley, cradled the tea between cupped hands as scarred as his brother’s, “The Revelry’s got me running this cargo to Nicodranas and I thought hey, if I’m going to be in the area, why not drop in on my favourite brother?”

“Why not,” Molly repeated, a little thinly, “Without calling or sending a letter or anything to let me know you’d be stopping by…”

Caleb winced a little at the undercurrent of annoyance underneath his love’s voice but Kingsley only laughed, like it was a joke.

“C’mon, you know that’s not how I work, Moll. I never know where I’m going to be heading or when. I’m just glad I got to see you! Especially seeing as apparently you got married since I last saw you? And popped out two kids, what the hell?”

“Una is adopted,” Molly mumbled, like that was the important point.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Kingsley continued brightly, now smiling wide enough that Caleb caught the wink of a gold tooth, “I mean, you’re easily the most responsible out of all of us but still, married with kids, that's actually insane…”

Caleb’s eyebrows rose. He adored his husband but one thing he’d never be able to call him was responsible. Molly caught the movement from where he was sitting next to Kingsely and his cheekbones coloured.

Feeling a sudden stab of guilt, a sudden need to rush to Molly’s defence after he’d done it for him, Caleb blurted out, “Mollymauk is a great dad.”

Kingsley looked over to him, smiling crookedly, “I bet. He was always running around after me and Luce, making sure we didn’t get into trouble...well, as much trouble, I guess. Hey! Have you heard from Lucy lately, Moll? I haven’t spoken to him even longer than I hadn’t spoken to you.”

Molly tensed instantly at the question, jaw growing taut like a bowstring, his quietly simmering frustration igniting into full blown, barely concealed fury.

“I don’t speak to Lucien,” was all he said, voice tight and tense and, above all, final.

Even Kingsley seemed to pick up on that, backpedalling quickly, “Sure, sure...so where are these sprogs of yours, then? I’m so excited to meet them...”

“Yasha offered to take them for a few hours after I realised we had our unexpected guest,” Molly bit off the end of the sentence sharply, clearly struggling to maintain his control. He shook his head tightly, standing up and sighing, “Excuse me…”

Kingsley opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, finally falling silent as he watched his brother disappear in a swirl of his coat. Caleb didn’t hesitate, getting to his feet and moving after him, throwing Kingsley an apologetic glance.

“I’ll just, uh...see what he needs.”

Kingsley just nodded, flashing him a quick smile that didn’t quite shine as bright as his other ones, then just staring into his drink. Frumpkin jumped up next to him, eyeing him suspiciously.

In the kitchen, Caleb found Molly with his head in his hands, in the middle of a long, deep breath. Caleb tried to remember everything his husband did for him when he got overwhelmed, coming up behind him and gently wrapping his arms around his middle. Instantly he felt Molly lean into his touch, aching into it.

“I’m an asshole,” he heard him groan, muffled by his palms.

“You’re not,” Caleb murmured into his purple curls.

“I am,” Molly dropped his hands, “Gods, I haven’t seen my brother in years and he comes here and I didn’t even tell my husband or my kids about him, what does that make me look like to him? To you?”

Caleb shrugged, “It was a bit of a surprise...um, why didn’t you tell us? Just out of curiosity…”

Molly turned in his arms, pressing his face to the curve of his neck, having to bend as Caleb was just a little shorter than him. It was long enough that Caleb had accepted he wasn’t ready to talk about it, content just to hold him and let it pass, but then he felt him murmur.

“I hardly ever see him. He’s a pirate with the Revelry, he’s always off sailing somewhere and...and I try, I used to try but he never replies and I’d spend ninety percent of the time having no clue where he was before he’d just pop up suddenly and I’d have to bend my life around him for however long he’d stay and then have him just run off again…”

“And...Lucien?” Caleb asked hesitantly, “He’s your brother too?”

Molly moved back, eyes suddenly solid and serious, “Caleb, I need you to promise me, if you ever hear anything from Lucien, if you ever see him or he contacts you, you ignore him completely and you come straight to tell me. Don’t let him get anywhere near the kids, don’t listen to a word he says, just ignore him and find me. Understand?”

Caleb swallowed hard, more than a little taken aback, he’d never seen Molly like this, “I promise.”

At that, Molly relaxed a little, “He just...he’s not a good man, Caleb. He’s in deep with this cult shit, just...we’re having nothing to do with him anymore.”

Caleb nodded but a question was pressing irritatingly at the base of his tongue, wanting to push forward, as much as he worried it would upset Molly. His husband noticed, reading his face as easily as he ever had, a tired but fond smile chasing the last of the severity off his face.

“Go on then,” he prompted gently, “Ask me.”

Caleb almost groaned in relief as he nearly blurted, “How do you know they’re your brothers?”

Molly gave a rough laugh, “You mean aside from the obvious, that they look enough like me that you sucked Kingsely’s face thinking it was mine?”

Caleb’s face went up like flashpaper as he started to splutter, “It was an accident!”

Molly grinned, looking a little more like himself, putting a gentle hand on his cheek, “I get it, babe, don’t worry, I’ll take an IOU...but I get what you mean. You’re right, I don’t actually remember growing up with them, I don’t remember actually being their brother. And that’s kind of why it kind of hurts having him around, honestly.”

Caleb nodded sympathetically, “So they just sort of showed up after you woke up again?”

“Yeah,” Molly huffed out a laugh that didn’t have much humour in it, “Imagine you’re just walking down the street one day and some guy with your own face runs up to you and hugs you so hard it knocks you off your feet.”

“I can see how that would be...disconcerting?”

“Somewhat,” Molly sighed, moving to look at his reflection in the microwave door, trying to sort out the mess he’d made of his makeup, “Kingsley just...he’s a sweet enough guy even if he is a flit but...when he looks at me he sees this big brother he thought he’d lost, someone who apparently looked after him and ran around after him and held things together for him. Someone I absolutely am not. And he can’t seem to get it through his skull that I can’t be that person.”

Caleb gently but firmly stepped in front of Molly, taking his hands in his own. He didn’t seem to realise how badly they were shaking.

Molly gripped his fingers tightly, like he was holding on for dear life, like he hadn’t even realised how deep the water around him was until Caleb reached out.

“Honestly,” his voice was a shaky exhale, “I’m kind of glad he doesn’t stick around. He’d realise his brother’s gone for good.”

Caleb took a moment to consider his words, wanting desperately to say the right thing, willing his brain to kick into gear and let him help.

“Maybe if he met you now he’d realise he liked the brother he has?” he murmured gently, running his thumbs soothingly across Molly’s knuckles, “I am biased but I think you’re pretty fantastic.”

Molly smiled softly, leaning forward until he was resting his forehead on Caleb’s, “Thanks…”

“I don’t think you need to pretend to be anyone else,” Caleb promised, shifting slightly so he could press his lips to his forehead. It wasn’t quite the kiss he was imagining but he could tell it made Molly feel better and that was all that mattered.

Maybe so he couldn’t lose his nerve, Molly quickly returned the favour with a gentle kiss to the cheek and moved back into the living room. Caleb decided it was best to give them a moment, making a cup of tea of his own. He lingered over it, holding the warmth between his hands, watching the light outside of their small window turn from the full, deep orange of sunset to a cool blue.

Only then did he pad into the living room, not entirely sure what he was going to find. Of course he trusted Mollymauk but still, it wouldn’t hurt to be a little prepared to break up a fight. He mentally catalogued the components in his pockets, just in case.

But when he stuck his head around the corner, there were no flying feathers or drawn swords. The two Tealeafs were sat on the sofa together, Kingsley in the middle of another ramble, hands moving through the air as he gestured widley. Molly had an expression of bemusement and vague surprise.

“-and I was thinking I could show them how to tie knots, I swear man, you don’t even know how many godsdamned knots there are,” Kingsley was saying, eyes alight with excitement, “And maybe, if it was okay with you and Red obviously, I could take em out on the ship sometime! Just a little day trip and you guys could come too, there’s a place where you can always see dolphins and there’s seals and I even saw a whale once! Kids would be into that, right? Kids like animals, don’t they?”

For the first time, Kingsley looked something other than blithely amused. For the first time, a kind of hopeless uncertainty edged into his eyes.

Molly clearly caught it, something in him softening, “You...you really want to spend time with my kids?”

“Of course I do!” Kingsley blinked, “I mean, okay, I’ve not been the best brother on the planet but I’m an uncle now. Like, I’m someone’s actual uncle! That’s the most incredible thing and I just really want to do a good job at it. I want them to like me.”

For a moment, Molly looked startled, like he hadn’t expected him to say that. But once it had sunken in, his face cracked into a smile.

“I’ll be honest, Kingsley, I don’t think you’re going to have to work that hard to get them to like you. You’ll see.”

Kingsley looked like that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, his face lighting up like the dawn.

“And look,” Molly shrugged, “You’re not a shitty brother or anything just...just call more, damn it.”

“Okay, I promise,” Kingsley was back to laughing, looking like he was a second away from pouncing on Molly and hugging him, “I mean, I'm gonna be checking in with my little niece and nephew all the time, right?”

“Yeah,” Molly grinned back at him, “I guess you will.”

For all the broken teeth, they really did have the exact same smile.

Caleb leaned against the doorway, eyes warm as he watched them, as he watched Kingsely loudly announce that he’d even brought a present for his new family members before pulling an entire cutlass out of a holster neither of them had noticed under his coat, as he watched Molly choke down a laugh and start to explain why, as cool as they’d find it, a pirate sword really wasn’t an appropriate gift for two toddlers.

None of this had been on his list. But there was something to be said for surprises.

#modern au #widomauk #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #kingsley tealeaf #critical role #please comment!

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

Text

Business AU - Working Late, Part 9

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

Let’s fuck things up a bit, shall we?

She woke up peacefully, the soft warmth of the early sun washing over her naked body tangled in the bedsheets. As she stretched her limbs, she found herself to be alone in bed, lazily reaching for her glasses on the nightstand nearby only so she could have a clearer view of her surroundings. Donnie was nowhere to be seen, Vee taking this moment to sit in bed, envelopping her form in the sheets and just think about last night's events. What would that make out of them? No real declarations of any sorts had been made, but the feelings were there and real, that she couldn't deny. Sure, it wasn't the first time she had slept with someone without any real attachment, but never had she felt that way with someone before... Donnie was a tender and very attentive man. She had that feeling that whatever he'd say or do, it must be true to him. She wanted to believe he would wish for them to be more... But for now she laid her expectations to rest and simply reveled in whatever was happening between them. She felt good. She felt appreciated. And, to be frank, the sex had been amazing.

She heard footsteps approaching the room, along a rolling sound. The mutant soon came in view, accompanied by a small trolley that held two plates with food, empty mugs and a pot of coffee. He was only wearing black boxer briefs and his glasses, his whole self a delectable sight. As he noticed that the woman was awake, he playfully struck a little pose while saying:

“Breakfast in bed for madame.”

That brought a soft giggle from Vee, though touched by this attention given to her. Instead of handing a plate, Donnie moved to sit by the woman's side in bed, unable to resist cupping one of her cheeks, his thumb tenderly brushing her skin. His eyes kept scanning her, his joy blooming at the mere sight of her smile.

“… Can't believe there's such a beautiful woman in my bed this morning,” he softly said.

“Can't believe such a sexy man is bringing me breakfast in bed,” replied Vee.

“I can bring more than that.”

Remnants of last night's emotions still brought some sparks in the air, Donnie's motion fluid and met halfway by Vee. It was sweet and slow, a kiss that felt like a dream. As it kept going, the terrapin started to shift his position and Vee's; soon the covers out of the way and Donnie's frame over the woman, forever careful not to be too much of a weight. They couldn't let go of one another, this morning's laziness bringing each motions to a tender point. As the terrapin was kissing at the woman's neck, she did add in a soft tone:

“What about breakfast? It's gonna get cold, just like the food last night...”

“I don't mind cooking another one later. … I'd cook one for you everyday even.”

That brought a hushed chuckle out of Vee, but deep down she was touched by that small confession. The simplicity and tenderness of this moment brought such ease in her.

“Donnie, I-...”

She stopped herself, knowing exactly what her heart wanted to say, but knowing now was not the time. Their gaze crossed, Donnie patient and Vee trying to find the right words to say next.

“... I’m so happy right now. Being with you feels so nice,” she ended.

“It does feel nice, indeed,” first replied the terrapin in a sweet tone. “... I could spend the rest of my life like this.”

Vee felt speechless, trying her best to read his emotions. He did sound sincere, but maybe it was this honeymoon type of feeling that was talking as well.... In any case, she prefered to kiss him in answer, knowing she did think the same as well. It was much preferable to live in this present moment, rather than worry in speculations.... At least, only for this morning.

***

That Monday morning was as grey and rainy as it could get, the usual omen for a bad day and week to come, but in Vee’s mind and heart, it was as sunny as it could ever be. Her work started with the usual routine; reviewing the projects for the day and then handing the paperwork. Her step around the office was light, humming some tunes to herself as she distributed the documents among her team.

“You look awfully happy for a Monday morning,” started one of her coworker’s voice, a guy.

That broke her stride, turning around to the source. She noticed a small handful of employees grouped together, probably discussing first amongst themselves until they saw their manager. Vee recognized the man who had spoken, already going through her papers as she walked towards the small group.

“I had a nice weekend, that’s all,” she answered, handing him the work.

“What, you buttered up the boss enough for you to get a raise?” said the other, reluctantly taking his due.

Vee instantly frowned: “... Excuse me?”

“We saw you leave with that Donatello, Friday evening,” added another coworker, a woman. “You’re not fooling anyone. It’s been quite some time that you both have been hanging together.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your concerns,” said Vee. “We’re friends, I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“Yah, sure, friends with benefits perhaps,” continued another person. “Soon you’ll benefit from a monetary gain while he benefits from your tits. Workplace logic.”

Vee was disgusted, knowing if she continued to argue, she’d make things worse: “I don’t know what’s wrong with you all, but you better mind your damn business.”

As she was walking away, she heard that last jab: “If I buy you a drink, will you give me a raise?” She did not stop, her step slightly getting faster instead. Her blood was boiling, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. At once, she wished she could simply disappear... Turning a corner, she abruptly bumped into someone, her remaining folders flying out of her hands and spilling to the floor. She felt strong hands hold her forearms, forbidding her to fall backward

“Woah there, easy. Are you alright?”

She met baby blue eyes surrounded by orange, quickly recognizing the presence as another one of her bosses: Michelangelo. She quickly nodded, trying to get a hold of her senses once more. Her eyes next scanned the floor, letting out a big sigh as she noticed the mess.

“Damn... I’m sorry,” she started. “I should’ve looked where I was going...”

“Nah, it’s fine,” smile the orange clad terrapin. “Next time I’ll be careful not to be on your war path!”

Both were already crouching down to pick up the fallen papers, Vee feeling so absent-minded by this meaningless task. All she wanted to do was to run away, to be quite frank. As Michelangelo handed her the last files, he did inquire again: “... You sure you’re alright?”

Vee faked a small smile, quick to dismiss his concern.

“Yes, I’m okay. No worries. Have a nice day, sir.”

As she got back on the move, her distress did not escape the mutant, although he did not try to push his questionning any further.

***

“What’s up, D, my man?”

Donnie paused his writing, glancing up towards his office’s entry. He saw Mikey standing there, the purple clad mutant huffing lightly as he then continued his task.

“I’m busy, Mikey.”

“You’re always busy, so any time to poke you is as good as any.”

The tall one rolled his eyes, although he did smile a little. He quickly gestured for his brother to come in.

“What’s up?” he asked as the other was taking a seat.

“Meh, I dunno man, just wanted to take some news from you,” shrugged Michelangelo. “You’ve been staying late a lot these days... How was your weekend?”

Donnie stopped writing once more, leaning back into his chair with a dreamy smile.

“It was hella nice.”

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Spent some time with a beautiful lady.”

“There yooouu gooo!” lightly laughed the youngest. “T’was about time you’d get some fun. Who is she?”

“Slow down, I’ll present her to you soon enough. ... We’re just taking some time to ourselves first, you know...”

Mikey was disappointed by the lack of details, but he did respect his brother’s choice: “Fair enough.” A thought came back to him, suddenly adding: “Oh, speaking of meeting ladies, before I got in here I bumped into one. I dunno what’s going on in the office, but she did look kinda distressed. ... She’s got nice green hair though! We don’t see lots of people with different hairstyles around here.”

Donnie slightly jumped in his chair as he heard the mention of ‘distress’ and then ‘green hair’. It had to be Vee.

“Where is she?” he instantly asked.

Mikey was surprised by his brother’s reaction, vaguely gesturing a direction.

“I, uh, I have no idea. Somewhere around those parts we don’t really have a use for.”

She must’ve went to the drawing room... Donatello did not waste any second, already on his feet and heading out.

“Sorry gotta go,” he quickly excused himself. “Talk to you later.”

Mikey didn’t even have time to place a word, still seated as he watched the other dart straight to a precise direction. “Oooookay...”

***

It didn’t take long for Donnie to reach the room in question, already hearing some quiet sobs when he was close to the entrance. As soon as he stepped in, he found Vee at one corner, by a table, her glasses removed as she tried to forbid tears to ruin her makeup. The woman jumped as she saw the terrapin’s form appear in, trying her best to gain a better posture and make herself more presentable as she put back on her glasses.

“Shit! D-Donnie, I-”

The turtle was already on the move, soon next to her and certainly preoccupied.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing,” tried to brush away Vee. “I’m not- ... fuck, I don’t want you to see me cry.”

“Don’t worry. Tell me what happened,” he asked again, his touch gentle as his thumb dried some faint trails on the woman’s cheek.

“It’s nothing,” she repeated. “I just heard some stuff I didn’t want to, that’s all. I’ll stop my bullshit soon enough and get back to work.”

Donnie tsked, not wasting any second to get a hold of her hips, barely giving any effort as he slightly lifted her up to sit on the table. At least now he wouldn’t need to lean down too much, his hands resting at her sides, on the table, now their eyes at the same level.

“Talk to me.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze long enough, a sigh escaping her first. ... It would be preferable to touch the subject anyway, before any rumors would start flowing around.

“I had some employees on my team this morning saying some ... stuff about us.”

“What kind?”

“The kind that makes it look as if I’m hanging out with you only so I can get a promotion or something like that to advance my career,” she added, her tone slightly harsh. She paused, trying to calm herself down quickly: “... Look, before you say anything, I want you to know that it’s not true. I’m not some kind of business leech that’ll try to flirt her way up. I work hard and-and- I do an honest job, and-”

“Don’t worry, I believe you,” cut Donnie gently, trying to have her look at him again.

When their gazes met, she did feel some relief.

“I don’t give a damn what they say,” he continued. “They don’t have the full details anyway, so their judgement is invalid.”

“I hope they don’t get all the details, I’d prefer to keep most of them to myself,” added Vee with some amusement.

“Me too,” he smiled.

He tried, and succeeded, to lift her morale by giving a sweet kiss on her lips. Vee couldn’t help bringing him into an embrace afterward, her arms resting around his neck. She wanted to stay like this forever... His strong arms around her were so reassuring.

“Don’t mind them,” softly said Donnie as he was nuzzling her hair. “There’s always gonna be some assholes everywhere we go... The best thing we can do is stand up to them and stay true to ourselves, okay?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to stand up to them today,” mumbled the woman against his scales.

“Alright, I’ll do it then.”

Vee instantly frowned, backing up a bit to give him a stern look.

“Don’t you dare! I don’t want anymore troubles.”

The terrapin chuckled: “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say names. ... I’m just gonna teach them all a little lesson. ... There’s no place for rivalry and petty discourses regarding matters they have no involvement with.”

“If things turn to hell, I blame you.”

“Deal!” he winked.

***

Time was passing by and Vee was somehow getting more and more anxious about what Donnie would do in regards to her team... She most certainly hoped he wouldn’t rub in the issue and ask the others to mind their own business. But at the same time she knew he could demonstrate tactfulness and would probably approach the matter at hand appropriately.

She first heard the squeak of small wheels, her attention shifting and soon noticing the terrapin walk in with a portable whiteboard. She groaned internally, tempted to melt on her chair and disappear under her desk...

Donnie attracted people’s attention by clearing his throat first, then adding: “Hi there! If you guys won’t mind, let’s have a talk.”

He removed the cap from an erasable pen he was holding, writing in big letters “TEAMWORK”. Vaguely gesturing the word, he started:

“What defines teamwork?”

Silence at first. At some point a woman shyly rose her hand, Donnie inviting her to speak:

“Please, don't be shy, no need to raise your hand. What do you have in mind?”

“Teamwork could be defined by good communication?”

“That's a good start, what else?” smiled the terrapin as he wrote “COMMUNICATION” on the whiteboard.

“Sharing the workload equally?” started another person.

“Efficiency!”

“Having a common goal.”

“Trust!”

Donnie lighted up at that word, circling it a couple of times for emphasis.

“Yes, trust!” he said. “Seeking a common end, resolving conflicts and frictions, having an open conversation about issues you might be experiencing in the workplace. All that trust you can put in your coworkers mirrors the trust you have in regards to their skills and abilities. A mutual trust is defined by a confidence between team members that each puts the best interest of the team ahead of individual priorities.”

“I guess it depends on the person and their position,” added in a guy.

Vee recognized him as the man who had first sparked the comments this morning. She tried to avoid his gaze, Donnie noticing the sudden tension.

“I suspect you have something on your mind,” started the terrapin calmly to the man. “What’s your name?”

“Ben.”

“What do you mean by ‘it depends on the person and their position’, Ben?”

The guy was obviously feeling some discomfort by being the center of interest.

“Well... when you see someone like, let’s say a manager, taking advantage of their position and time to advance themselves in the work place, it’s hard to put trust on them.”

Donnie clapsed his pen shut.

“Are those allegations founded? Have you spoken to that person and tried to see if that was actually the case? Miscommunication and misunderstanding can lead to a lack of trust, indeed.”

“When you see them hanging with higher ups, that kinda confirms some questioning,” continued Ben. “When she stays late at night and fraternizes with a boss, that does raise some concerns about the practices of this workplace.”

“There we go,” smiled Donnie, accentuating his words with a sharp point of his pen. “Now we’ve come to the source of your concern; first you mentionned a manager and now a ‘she’. Knowing there’s only one project manager for the creative team, I can suspect you have some concerns in regards to Véronique.”

“You’re just gonna defend her, why should we listen to you?” said the other.

“Because I’m not here to defend anyone,” shrugged the mutant. “I’m here to make you understand that you’re a team, and all its members shouldn’t feel afraid to speak to one another, instead of raising suspicions.” He gestured Vee, the woman only wanting to disappear. “Ever since Véronique started working here she has been spending countless hours in office to learn the ropes of this place and give the best of herself only so you can give the best of you all in return. I value her judgement and experience, and she has agreed, on her free will, to participate on a project I was personally struggling with. In return I have been helping her with her work, because that is how trust is built: by sharing the work-” he started to point the words on the board. “-being efficient, communicating, and having a common goal. ... And that’s something I want in this office, for its people to be open and help eachother - not because they feel they need to, but because they want to.”

That gave everyone a pause, somehow giving a feeling of accomplishment to the turtle.

“May that spark a friendship or not - when it does not involve this work environment and it’s out of office, it’s nothing to worry about afterward. ... Let that be food for thought.”

He looked a bit toward Vee’s position, giving her a quick wink. The woman did feel some relief by his speech, knowing he might have struck some chords here and there. She wasn’t fully convinced that everyone would be on that same line of thought, especially that Ben, but there was no denying that it would ease some tension somehow.

***

Vee had waited until work got back to a somewhat normal pace before she wrote that to the terrapin.

Her smile was tender, her fingers easily typing away.

Thinking about it also, today was one hell of a long and stressful Monday...

Probably one of the only good things today...

There it was again, that damn charm of his! She could feel the rush in her veins, remembering those moments with him. Frankly, she wanted more as well...

***

The following morning was as normal as it could get on a weekday, Donnie taking the opportunity to clean around his office. He was going through a filing cabinet, starting from the top drawer. Some papers did slip from his hold, the terrapin next crouching to get them off the floor. But at the same moment the entry door was harshly opened, a voice sternly calling his name. Donnie’s reaction was to jump straight back up, but that resulted in him hitting the top of his head on the previously opened drawer, getting a yelp out of him. He quickly diverted his gaze to the newcomer, rubbing his scales.

“Leo!” scolded the purple clad mutant as he saw his older brother. “The fuck?! Don’t you know how to knock or something?”

“We have to go.”

“Go where?”

“No time to explain, we’ve found them. We need to move right now before we lose their track again.”

Donnie instantly got serious as well, his posture straightening up.

“... Do we still have our backup gear in this building?” he asked.

“Yes,” confirmed the blue banded turtle. “Mikey and Raph are already aware as well. Get your stuff and we leave in fifteen minutes top.”

A simple nod in answer was good for Leonardo to get on the move again, leaving Donnie. There was no time to lose, the tall mutant rapidly tidying up his space before grabbing any personal items and exiting his office. His mind was running, thinking about what was to come. On his way he did notice Vee at her desk, somehow pausing only to bask into that view. At first she was focused on whatever she was working, but she did feel a gaze on her, her eyes lifting to meet Donnie. She first offered him a sweet smile, to which he briefly returned, then she saw him get back on the move - an expression of concern coloring his traits. That did confuse the woman, her eyes following his path and noticing that he was about to leave the building. She tried to shrug the feeling away, only telling herself that she’d poke him later about that...

((Part 10))

#it's-a-moi #business au #usual sorry for mistakes #that moment when I pump out drama a lil' faster than smut LOL #also note to self: DO NOT TRY TO EDIT/FIX ERRORS ON YOUR DAMN PHONE #stick to PC 😤#next chapter should come soon-ish as well - I'm pumped for this

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