#just skip the process and get married already guys

[existingingrey]

Sunshine smiles still there.

I mean even if they don't make buddie cannon they should still let them get married

Platonically ofc...

Coz Eddie is the only person Buck will never get bored with and Buck is the only person Eddie will ever trust Chris with. So it's a win-win.

#911 buddie #911 abc #911 s7 #buddie #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #just skip the process and get married already guys #how to look at your favorite people a guide by #evan buckley

[lbxbx]

Cockpit 3 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood,

Previous | Next

It’s the next morning when you wake up with an extreme hangover, you flip through your bed and your eyebrows scrunch when the sunlight hits your face.

Every time you get drunk you do absolutely stupid things that you decide to reflect on in the morning and scold yourself, as if the hangover headache is not enough.

You need to cure this hangover as soon as possible because you have a night shift tonight.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Seokjin says when you sit back next to him, you’re still in utter shock from what just happened.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks worriedly, “Did we cross the line.”

Words don’t even come out of your mouth, your hands are on your stomach and your brain suddenly stops functioning, What did Kim Namjoon do to you?

“Jungkook it’s all your fault.” Jimin scolds the youngest, Jungkook bites his lips in guilt.

“N-no.” You stutter. “I’m fine, really.”

“We should go home.” Hoseok offers and takes off his jacket. “You guys stay, I’ll call a cab.” He puts his jacket on your shoulder and grabs your purse, both of you get up and get into a taxi.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Hoseok asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You nod.

Despite all the dirty talk he gave you after that kiss, you have this weird stranger danger feeling towards him, and something tells you you’re not wrong. You’re always cautious around new people, but things went too fast him that you just need time to process it, and you need time to study him.

You roll your eyes at your thoughts. It’s just going to be a one time sex you don’t have to study no shit.

“Hobi?”

“Yeah?” He snaps his head towards you, ready to do anything you ask for.

“Before Namjoon and I kissed, I saw him by the bar.” You actually tell Hoseok about him.

Whenever you’re talking to him it’s like talking to a mirror, he gives the best advices and helps you no matter what, and most importantly he never makes you feel bad about yourself.

He doesn’t say anything in return, he just waits for you to finish your story.

“We exchanged phone numbers, is that okay?”

He tries to study your face, he tilts his head and asks. “Do you regret giving him your phone number?”

“Of course not, he’s just a stranger that’s all.” You shrug.

“So?” He laughs. “We were all strangers once, and now we’re best friends.”

You look at him, he smiles and puts his hand down on your knee. “Don’t over think it chief, if he ever makes you uncomfortable just block him.” He makes it look so easy. It probably is.

Oh yes, your phone.

You grab it and a sigh of relief leaves your mouth, thankfully he didn’t text or call. You’re not ready for that part yet, and you even wonder if you can just skip the talking phase and just have sex.

Jeez, it’s still morning.

You get up and take a hot shower, you wash your face, brush your teeth, then rush to make breakfast.

On the other side though, Namjoon is in his car, Ilsan was about 4 hours away from Seoul, he usually drives while listening to a podcast or an audio book, but this time his car is completely quiet, but his head storming with thoughts.

His sunglasses on and his fingers tapping the steering wheel, he’s supposed to appreciate the last few hours of quietness before he picks up Jay, but his full head isn’t letting him, and it’s far away from quite in fact.

He is genuinely glad he took your phone number to begin with, but when he thought about it again when he’s sober, he felt a huge load on his shoulder, why?

Because he’s married and that’s literally cheating, or at least in some way it is. He tried convincing himself that him and his so called wife are separated already and there’s no need to worry about that, but then the second thought comes chasing too.

He can’t call you nor text you, what if you thought he was a creep? Or someone who’s all over you? Or what if he scared you away? He feels nothing towards you but pure attraction, nothing more. He’s not that desperate for sex, or maybe he is, but he needs to be smart and reasonable and think straight.

With that subject off the table for him, he proceeds with recapping last night, he was monitoring you, watching your body language, he’s not a creep, but out of desire that’s all. He was petrified when your friends looked back at him. His first instinct is to run even if he did nothing wrong.

He thought you told them that he was hitting on you near the bar and that they’re going to whip his ass and beat him up, his body bathed in cold sweat when he saw one of the men walk closer to him, and the man was big and could easily knock Namjoon out.

“Good evening gentlemen.” The guy smiles and looks at Namjoon, he even thinks that he’s going to be exposed in front of his co workers.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” He said, and Namjoon nods before getting up.

He feels immediate relief when he finally finds out that this was a dare, and that he wants him to kiss his friend.

Oh gladly. Namjoon thought in his head.

The kiss was something that woke every single cell in his body, even while driving he finds himself touching his lips and smiling like a stupid virgin teenager being kissed for the first time.

He finally feels like a real man again who finally gets to kiss a girl and use his dick, well not yet, but he’s going to any time soon, and he wants it to be with you.

He wishes he can text you but he can’t, and he just hopes he runs into you again, doesn’t matter if it’s in the club or even in front of a stupid food truck, he just wants to see you.

It’s almost 12 in the midnight, already in the emergency department, it’s unusually quiet today, not so many patients are showing up, and the ones that actually do are not that critical.

You’re hanging out with the nurses drinking some tea and having some pretzels and chit chatting, when the watch on your wrist buzzes a notification, it’s a message, and it’s from—

Namjoon.

You quite literally feel heat running from your shoulders down to your body, you straighten up and put your mug down. Is it pathetic if you purposefully answer late? You should leave him hung up for minutes.

Of course you’re not going to do that, that’s really pity. So you do open the message immediately.

“Hey beautiful”

A little cheap shot Namjoon, but okay.

“hey big man” You text him back and cringe at yourself, that’s really cheesy. The read receipts immediately turn blue, meaning he already saw your message.

 “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night”

“I think I was being too honest.”

Your fingers hover over the screen, you don’t really know what to answer. He was being too honest, but you kind of liked it, you’re not even sure how to reply to this appropriately, because maybe it is meant to be inappropriate.

“you were all over me kim namjoon admit it.” Wow you’re really doing this.

It takes him a few minutes to reply.

“true.”

Fuck you’re at work, the heat you feel in your body is increasing, your hand makes its way to your lips, and the entire tape from last night goes through your head again, your brain even making it spicier. You start shifting in your seat, the heat in between your legs is the problem.

“Fuck I wish you were with me tonight.”

He even sends you a picture, he’s in what seems to be his house with the lights dimmed, his coffee table has a half empty glass of wine, and next to it is his pack of cigarettes. The vibe in his house is tempting for you, you wish you were with him too.

“are you busy?”

You took too long to answer but you eventually do.

“I’m on call tonight :(”

How the read receipts are turning blue immediately, you’re impressed.

You scoff a little when you actually know it’s just the beginnings, when men are being nice to you just to get into your pants, Namjoon must be one of those guys too. You huff. Men.

“oh no I’m sorry.”

“I’ll text you later take care.”

You don’t bother typing anything, you just send him a thumbs up emoticon and put your phone down.

Time passes very slow on your shift, you find it slow when there are barely any patients, it’s almost 4 in the morning, the ward has already dimmed the lights and you’re trying to catch some sleep on the chair when your phone buzzes a message.

It’s Namjoon, and why is he awake.

“awake?”

You don’t like leaving people’s text unanswered, or is that an excuse to answer very fast even when it’s 4 in the morning and you’re at work, Hmm.

“yup.”

He instantly reads your message, and you see bubbles popping up, he’s typing and deleting constantly, and it takes him 4 minutes to try and form a sentence but he ends up being offline which confuses you for a second.

Confusion quickly turns to mere shock when he calls you, the confidence on this man.

You excuse yourself out of the emergency room and go take a seat on a bench outside the hospital, you’re rushing as if you’re worried he’d hang up, a big part of you wants to enjoy the call.

“Kim Namjoon you’re drooling.” You answer, you’re more than glad to torture him.

He laughs and it takes him a few seconds to pick up the courage and speak. “I guess I am.” In his deep voice, you could easily imagine him in front of you if you close your eyes, the aura around this man is something else.

“It’s four in the morning and you’re calling?” You really want to know the reason behind his call.

“I was just thinking about you.” He breathes, which you could swear you can feel in your ear, you shiver and close your eyes, you cross your legs and answer him the first thing that comes off the top of your head.

“And did you make yourself cum?” You mirror what he said in the club last night, a hint of challenge in your voice.

“Fuck..” He grunts, he is being tortured by you. Your stomach is twisting and your panties are already sticking to you, you really want to touch yourself to his voice.

“Why make myself cum when you can make me cum.” He says, an audible smirk on his face.

“I can make you cum?” You’re intrigued.

“If you just let me fuck you.” He continues, “I’ll let you taste my cum.”

You’ve been with a fair share amount of men, but Kim Namjoon is out of this world, you’ve been with men who didn’t even make you cum while having sex. But he made you wet using his dirty mouth.

“Mmm..” That just slipped out of you, he releases a soft laugh and says. “I can make you cum too.”

Now he’s the one torturing you, you need to control yourself a little, this isn’t you.

“Prove it.” You look around hoping no one is around you. He lets out a shaky breath and you can hear him gulp, “Just say when.”

The whole idea is making your stomach clench and it even gives you nausea, not that it’s grossing you out or anything. You’re just nervous about the fact of sleeping with Kim Namjoon the captain you know nothing about except he’s insanely hot.

You get in the confidant and powerful fake persona you’re trying to claim with this man and speak. “In the mean time, enjoy making yourself cum Namjoon.”

You can hear him groan before letting out a laugh. “I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Go to sleep Namjoon.” You hang up and realize that you’re not breathing well, your hand reaches your face, you’re on fire. You throw your head back and take a long breath.

“Y/N.” Seokjin walks out of the main gate which startles you for a second, you forgot he was on call tonight too. He hands you a cup of coffee and studies your face for a couple of seconds.

“You don’t look okay.” He says, the back of his hand touching your face. You subtly push his hand away and shake your head in denial. “No, I am.”

“Did you see Yoongi’s message on the group chat?” He asked. “They’re playing poker next weekend at his place.”

You’re not really fond of playing cards, especially with your friends because it usually ends up in arguments and fighting, but you still enjoy their company that’s why you decide to go and participate.

-

Namjoon puts out his cigarette and blows out the last puff of smoke, he’s thinking about the only subject he has been trying to ignore. How is he going to tell you that he’s married? Or that he’s a father?

“Namjoon I have told you countless time do not fucking smoke inside this house.” His wife walks out of her bedroom, it’s already 7 in the morning and Namjoon isn’t able to catch any sleep.

He’s irritated for over thinking everything, and when his wife walks out of her bedroom, is when he absolutely loses his mind.

She’s the reason he’s in pure misery.

He shoots a glare at her, she doesn’t even flinch, she starts picking up Jay’s toys from the ground and keeps on babbling and scolding Namjoon.

“If you don’t like it just leave.” His glare doesn’t stop when he takes out another cigarette and lights it up just to piss her off.

“You know you’re a fucking terrible father for smoking when your own son is in the same house with you?” She shits out of her mouth, and that’s when he completely loses it, he hates being called a terrible father because he isn’t, he could die for his son.

“You’re just saying that out of spite.” He laughs. “Or probably because you’re a shitty mother and an awful house wife I guess.” This shit talk is happening earlier than usual.

“Oh fuck off Namjoon.” She turns and makes her way out of the living room.

He puts down the freshly lit cigarette and goes to his bedroom, closes the curtains and gets in bed. He sighs.

What did he do to deserve this?

A man just needs a smile and a kiss in the morning, his phone buzzes a text and he immediately checks it.

“wanna come over tonight? My place.”

It was you, you just got off of your shift and you’re driving back to your house, the entire shift was more than enough for you to think and just invite him over and get things over with.

Your text alone was more than enough to make his shitty morning turn better, he reads the message immediately and with a smile wider than ever on his face he replies.

“I’ll be there by 8.”

You reply with a thumbs up emoji and continue driving home, and Namjoon falls asleep.

-

You wake up around 4 in the evening with your headache finally gone, the headache started in the last hour of your shift due to lack of sleep, which you finally got rid of now.

You contemplated on taking a shower before you went to sleep, but you were too tired so you decide on showering right after you wake up.

The cold water hitting your body just turns off the fire lit inside you, you didn’t forget about your so called sex appointment that’s going to happen tonight, you use the body lotion you just purchased, you shave and fully keep yourself prepared.

It haunts you hours later when you’re standing in front of your closet that you just..

You just invited a stranger into your house? You gave him the location and all?

No matter how hard you try to brush it off, and no matter how insanely attractive Kim Namjoon is, he could drug you or even murder you and no one would know.

You haven’t been through a certain trauma in your life that require for you to be that careful when meeting new people or even inviting them over, but your friends scared you multiple times when mentioning stories of girls getting drugged or kidnapped around the town.

He can’t be that bad. You really need to stop over thinking.

You take out a black short dress that’s been hiding in the back of your closet, you don’t even remember wearing, and it proves you right when you check the dress and see the price tag still on. Why didn’t you wear this yet?

You shrug and rip the price tag off, you take off your tank top and put on the black dress, it’s really short, and really tight. You look in the mirror and scoff. This is exactly why you didn’t wear this dress yet. Your breasts look really good in this, it totally brings out your cleavage.

Something inside you tells you that this dress is too much to begin with, but you just keep it on, you’re totally not changing out of that.

You’re fully prepared, you even took out a bottle of wine and put it down on the kitchen counter with two glasses, you dim the lights and just wait.

It’s almost half past eight, and you almost think he ghosted you but your doorbell rings, your nausea is not getting any better and the tightness in your stomach is not comfortable, you regret you didn’t have a drink beforehand, it could relax you a bit.

You open the door and there he is in full glory.

Standing tall with his hands in his pocket, he’s dressed in a white polo t-shirt tugged in a pair of khaki jeans, the sleeves of his t-shirt tightly hugging his big bulging biceps, a thin silver necklace hugging his long neck, which you cannot wait to put your lips on, you look up at his dimple when he smiles and shows you his teeth. “Hey.”

“Hey, come on in.” You’re still standing behind the door, when he walks in and actually lays eyes on you, you can easily see where his eyes were pointing, and it’s all over your body before it lays on your breasts. Bingo.

“Look at you all dressed up.” He shamelessly eyes you from head to toe again.

“You too.” You close the door after him and stand against it with your hands behind your back. “How was your ride here?” You feel the need to make small talk.

“Maps drove me crazy.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay, have a seat.” You invite him in, you’re sweating and you’re pretty sure if you stood near him he’ll hear your pounding heart beat.

He walks in towards the living room and gets comfortable on the couch, leaning his back against the couch and man spreading his lovely thick thighs.

Oh yeah, you’re totally drooling.

“I like your place.” He looks around, hands running on his own legs.

“Thank you.” You follow his eye sight, you do take pride in your apartment. “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes please, thank you.” You admire his attitude, he’s completely respectful, although he is totally checking out your ass when you’re making your way to the kitchen, you take the bottle of wine and the glasses and make your way back to the living room to put them on the coffee table.

“Wine?” He smirks and leans his arm on the back of the couch.

“Oh, I can get you something else if you want to.” You turn to the mini fridge that you have in your living room, it was a gift from Taehyung. Namjoon immediately shakes his head and waves his hands. “No no. I’m fine with wine really.”

You lift up an eyebrow and pop out the cork before pouring wine in the glasses. “Is there a problem with the wine?”

“No it’s fine.” His eyes land on your boobs again when you lean down to grab his glass and give it to him. “Thanks.”

You take a seat on the same couch right next to him, with a respectful space kept between you.

“Were you working today?” You take a sip of your wine, you’re not really curious whether he worked or not, you’re just making small talk to study this man and his body language.

“Mm.” He shakes his head while swallowing a sip of wine. “But I still have some hours left to finish.”

“Hours?” You asked, now you’re intrigued to know more and you’re curious.

“Mhm.” He puts his glass down. “I have a logbook that I record my flying hours in, and when I’m done with a certain amount of hours, I can have my days off.”

He uses his hands a lot when he’s talking which you find cute, you nod and tilt your head. “Do you choose your working hours?”

“No, I usually get called the night before or something.” He shrugs. “I usually fly domestic so I don’t mind even if they called me on the same day.”

“That’s really cool.” You nod. “And do you like your job?”

He stays silent for a second before he laughs, he grabs his glass of wine and takes a sip.

“You don’t?” You gasp, “I find it really interesting, what you do.”

“No I like it.” He nods, “It’s just that it’s hard to make friends or even make plans with friends.” He leans his arm again on the back of the couch, the tip of his fingers twisting a strand from your hair, he’s flirting.

You quickly decide on flirting back, you run your fingers on his arm and form your lips into a soft pout. “Yeah, it must be hard.”

“Yeah, that’s why I make all my plans a day before.” He looks at your fingers and clears his throat, “Tell me about your job, do you like it?”

You nod and say. “Depends.” Which makes him laugh. “I rarely get days off, but at least I get paid for the shifts I work extra.”

“Do you always go on night shifts?” He asks sipping more of his wine, both of you are really blending into the conversation, he’s so easy to talk to which makes you comfortable, your nausea is long gone.

“Yeah, 4 or 5 times a month.” You nod. “But I don’t like night shifts, they drain me.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks. “You did seem excited last night when you told me to make myself cum.”

You almost choke on your own spit when he says that, you feel your face burning with heat, you should’ve known better before texting him that the other night. Fuck you’re embarrassed.

“O-oh..” You stutter, you clear your throat repeatedly, the nausea is totally making a comeback.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.” His smirk is still on his face, your eyes land on him for a couple of seconds before you playfully hit him on his hard big chest. “Idiot.”

He laughs and sips more wine. “So the worst thing about your job is the night shifts?”

“Yeah..” You inhale. “And idiots like you make it even worse.” You tease, he finally puts his glass down and inches closer to you, closing the empty space between you, he leans his elbows on his thighs and turns his head towards you. “Or I can make it better.”

You feel his thigh pressed against yours which feels like utter fire to you, your insides are clenching around nothing when you crave for his touch, you need to feel more of him, you have to.

“You probably can.” Your voice barely heard, his eyes land on your lips, his throat bulges when he swallows and licks his bottom lip, you know he’s ready to make a move so you decide on teasing him and lean forward, your nose brushes against his, you look into his eyes and grin. “You can go ahead and kiss me if you want to.” You shrug. “I won’t mind.”

“Come here.” He doesn’t even hesitate for a second, he leans forward and finally seals his lips with yours, this time the kiss feels different than the one before, this one more intense, his teeth biting onto your lips and his tongue already roaming the inside of your mouth, his hands down on your legs slowly making their way up but stopping right below the edge of your dress.

You kiss him and go with his pace, enjoying and savoring every second you get to taste his plump lips. Your body is slowly getting satiated with its needs, you can feel your panties getting wetter and your stomach twisting in pure pleasure just by kissing Namjoon.

You eventually run out of breath and stop kissing back, which doesn’t stop him and instead his lips make their way to your ear and suck on your earlobe before licking it, which you let out a shaky breath at, the sound of his tongue and wet kisses along with his breath against your ear is sending electricity through your spine.

“You like it don’t you?” He whispers, one of his hands finally making its way back to your ass and he wholeheartedly squeezes it which makes you hold on to his chest. His lips move further back to your neck and he licks a long trail from your collarbone to your ear, you’re melting from his touch.

He grabs your cheeks in one hand again and pulls you in for another steamy kiss, you kiss back as if it’s a natural reflex and your hands move to his t-shirt to unbutton the first few buttons, you tug on it softly which he takes it as a sign to slide it off and he instantly does.

Satan sculpted this man and he did a great fucking job.

He leans back on the couch and grabs you by your hands to pull you and sit on his lap, your foot knocks down your glass of wine and it falls down on the floor and splatters on his khaki pants, you gasp and cover your mouth. “Shit, sorry, your pants I—“

“Fuck the pants.” His palms land on your ass and he squeezes again while devouring your lips, you can feel his covered hard cock under you and you position yourself right onto it which makes him groan in the kiss, you think it’s too much but he totally disagrees and grabs you by the ass to grind against him.

“Fuck-“ You speak against his lips and lean your forehead against his, a string of saliva still hanging between your mouths, he smirks and looks at you in the face before clearing his throat. “Show me your bed Y/N.” The way he said your name in a needy tone makes you melt in his hands, you get up and pull him by his arm to your bedroom.

The second you walk inside he hugs you from behind, his covered boner pressed against your covered ass, he turns you to face him and pushes you back on the bed, your chest is already heaving out of breath, moving up and down dramatically, you lean on your elbows and watch him hover on top of you, printing a few soft pecks on your lips while his hands play with the hem on your panties. “Can I take them off?”

You know it’s the bare minimum that he asked you but you totally admire him for that.

The duality on this man frights you especially when he just innocently asked you if he could take your panties off, but the second he throws them across the other side of the room and looks down at your cunt makes you stare at him with your jaw down.

The way he’s admiring your throbbing wet pussy, he looks like he just won the lottery. He’s been hungry for years and you’re here to feed him.

He looks at you almost in disbelief, asking himself on the inside Is this real?

You feel his hot breath against your pulsating clit, he licks once, twice, then uses his fingers to spread open your pussy and reveal more, his tongue tickles your entrance and goes up to your clit to print a soft wet kiss on it, he puts your clit into his mouth and sucks the soul out of you, you immediately react and close your legs but he uses all his force to push your knees closer to your torso, he wants to have it all.

He pulls back and spits onto your pussy, a string of saliva hanging from his lips before he devours it like it’s his last meal.

You gasp and hold onto your breath when he sucks your clit again, this time using his fingers to rub your entrance, his ego already boosting up when he sees you all vulnerable. “Breath.” He orders and you obey immediately, your hands making their way to your hair, it feels insanely erotic that you start pulling your own hair. “I’m gonna fucking cum.” You announce, and as if he needed encouragement to go faster, he does.

His two fingers curling against your spot and his head moving left and right to add more friction, your back arches and your eyes completely close shut when the knot inside your stomach finally bursts and you cum, feeling it in your entire body. He doesn’t stop and fucks you with his fingers through it, his tongue now near your entrance waiting for taste your cum.

“Holy shit.” You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and your chest starts rising up and down trying to catch a breath, you throw your head back and clear your throat, you can feel the mattress moving and Namjoon is already over you, he leans his forehead against yours and catches your lips into a kiss, your cum sits down on your tongue, he pulls back and you can feel his breath against your lips. “Swallow.”

And you obey again, feeling the taste of your cum on your tongue, he smirks and says. “You taste heavenly.” He moves down to your ear and whispers. “I told you I can make you cum.”

You hit him on the chest and hold his head into your hands and kiss him again. “Fuck me Namjoon.”

Your words take a huge toll on Namjoon as he clenches his jaw and looks at you all over your face, he wants to pound you so hard but he’s not sure you can take it.

“Take off your dress.” He eyes your chest and starts unbuckling his jeans, you unzip the dress from the side and slide it off of your shoulders and down your body to get rid of it, he looks down at your breasts one last time before he prints a trail of kisses between them, caressing one into his palm and squeezing it. His mouth moves to your perked up nipple and he circles it with his tongue, his eyes on your face as you’re biting your lip and running your fingers through his damp sweaty hair.

He takes your nipple between his teeth and sucks on it like his life depended on it. “You taste so fucking good.”

“Shit.” You throw your head back and lift your knee up to rub his clothed cock, you need to feel him inside you, and the idea of that about to happen makes you even more impatient.

He moves up to your chest and prints a few wet kisses, you shake your head and pull him from his dangling necklace. “Namjoon, fuck me now.”

He sits up on his knees and pulls down the zipper, he pulls down his pants and boxers to reveal what he’s been hiding from you the entire night.

Your jaw drops at the monstrous size, Kim Namjoon is a fucking real man with an enormous cock.

“Fuck, wait a second.” He gets up and leaves the bedroom for a second before walking back with a condom on his hand, he tries ripping it with his hand but his palms were too sweaty to manage, you reach your hand out to him and he looks at you for seconds, “Give it to me.”

He hands you the condom with a look of a lost puppy on his face, he’s clearly confused, you get up and push him down on the bed and he lies down, you rip the foil package with your teeth which he finds his cock pulsating to the sight of you doing that, you sit on the bed on your knees and put your legs on each side of his waist, you grab his cock which your fingers hardly wrap around, the thickness on this man is inhumane.

You grab the condom and position it on the tip of his dick and roll it down slowly, “Is it good?”

“Yeah.” He reaches his hands down to tug and twist and make it more comfortable for him, “Give me your hands.” He offers you his, you hesitate for a second before grabbing them, he positions you right on top of him and grabs his dick, rubs your pussy with it before teasing your entrance. “Tell me when to stop.”

You nod and look down waiting for the tip to penetrate you, your temperature increasing when the tip is pointed towards your wet vagina, you tense for a second before you ever so slowly get down on the tip of his dick, a soft whimper coming out of your mouth before you instantly lift yourself up again.

“It’s okay, take your time.” He’s out of breath, his hands sit on your hips, his eyes scanning your entire body, the sweat on your chest and neck is doing wonders to Namjoon, your perked up nipples bounce with you when you retrieve from his big dick, he looks down at your wet pussy and loses his mind when his tip disappears inside you and he grunts. “Fuck.” And drops his jaw.

Your tight walls give Namjoon a hard time when he’s trying to push more of his cock inside you, your walls keep clenching repeatedly which drives him fucking insane. “Relax for me.” He grabs his dick and pushes his torso further up to push more inside you.

What drives him more insane is the view of you spitting on your fingers and stroking his cock to make it wet before pushing it back inside you, now being able to sit a little lower than before on his dick. You wet your fingers with your spit again and rub your clit and try to relax your insides. “That’s it, good fucking girl.” He bites his own teeth which you can see his jaw clench.

You feel the tip of his cock brush against a spot inside you which makes you gasp and lean your palms on his lower stomach and pause for a second. “Fuck…” You laugh out of breath and look up at him, he mirrors your laugh and grabs your hips tighter. “Does it feel good?”

“I need a second.” You’re really out of breath, the spot he just hit with his dick is the spot that will make you cum so hard in seconds if you don’t stop.

“Come here.” He grabs your hands and pulls you in for a wet kiss which you kiss back and cup his cheeks, his hands move down to your ass cheeks and he squeezes on them, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks in between the kisses, you lean your forehead against his before shaking your head, landing slowly on his sensitive cock, both of you grunting at the same time, he’s brushing against that spot again which makes your stomach tighten and your back arch. You’re still clenching repeatedly around his dick. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.” He says in the most sexiest deep manly voice ever.

He’s driving you crazy too but you’re not going to give him that right away.

You shift in your seat and start pulling back from his dick slowly before landing again, you lean back and put your palms on his spread away knees for support, then pull back again and land back down, your throbbing pussy is already leaking from the utter pleasure that’s going through your whole system.

You start riding him in a faster speed, he impatiently moves his hips up to meet yours which makes sinful noises around your room, your damp skin meeting his. His eyes are locked with your body, your long neck when you throw your head back and your bouncing tits with each thrust, he could swear he can see his dick bulging out of your stomach.

You look down at him and you see his stomach tightening, he’s even holding his breath with his lip in between his teeth. “Shit.” He grabs your hips with his big hands and stops you, sitting up to kiss you on the lips, his arms wrap around your waist and he flips you over, his cock still remaining inside you.

Your back lands on the mattress and he sits down between your legs, he moves one of your legs to meet the other one, and he hugs them closer to his chest before pounding hard inside you, the angle and position change now feels even tighter on both of you, your vision is getting blurry with all the tears in your eyes. “Please don’t stop.” You beg, the sharp tone you’re using drives him mad, he moves inhumanely faster and your tits bounce even harder on your chest, he wholeheartedly grabs one of them in your hand and squeezes on it, and with that your knot finally snaps and you start clenching harder around his dick, you throw your head back and stop breathing while you’re cumming, Namjoon sees your cum on his dick and feels the constant clenching when he knows you’re cumming, and he fucks you through it while grunting. “Fuuuck.”

You finally manage to breathe again and your chest heaves, tears already fell down on your cheeks, you feel like you’re going to pass out. Namjoon keeps fucking you even when you’re over stimulated, his breaths get louder and he finally throws his head back too and shoots his load inside his condom. “Ah..” His thrusts finally halts and he lets go of your legs, you wrap them around him and pull him closer, he leans his forehead against yours still out of breath, you kiss the corner of his lips and his jaw and neck, giving him soft bites and licks here and there.

You print a kiss on his ear and whisper. “I made you cum.”

He looks at you and manages to give you a lazy smile before falling completely on you, you run your finger nails down his back and kiss the top of his head.

Kim Namjoon was totally worth the risk.

#namjoon #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #bts x you #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc

[wolfiesmoon]

Binding the book

duke!gojo x fem!reader

This is in a manhwa au?? I don't want to call it a royalty au since neither of you are royalty but its essentially your average manhwa plot

I've decided to write something completely unrelated to the canon plot of jjk since I'm still in the process of watching the anime lmaooo

i feel overwhelmed by this anime tbh someone save me , i might just skip to the second season since i've already seen the first one back when it first came out but lowkey forgor everything😵

He's talking to her with that smile on his face again. You really shouldn't be bothered by this anyway, so why do you keep staring? You know how this story ends for you anyways.

You quickly turned around, not wanting to invade upon Satoru's buisness any further. You weren't outright bothering him, but you have a feeling he wouldn't enjoy you staring at him from behind the corner like some stalker. Not when he has better things to be looking at.

You've been married to Gojo Satoru for exactly 3 months now. It was a marriage born of neccessity, pure interest to stop marriage pressure from your families. Atleast on his side, it was. He made that clear during the marriage proposal.

"Well, I'm mostly just doing this so mom stops nagging me about finding a wife already. I'm sure the same applies to you."

Those words have been replaying in your head for a while now. You've known Satoru only for about a year at that point, and even then it was mostly through social events you attended that he also happened to be attending.

So needless to say, it was simulaneously a complete surprise and completely expected when he suddenly gave your family a surprise visit to offer his hand in marriage.

You knew there was zero romantic feelings involved from the very beginning, so you know you shouldn't be surprised if Satoru wants to leave you for Lady Ichikawa, the girl he talks to almost every day. But your heart can't help but clench at the sight, and you wish Satoru could...

Nevermind.

You should be attending to your duties anyways.

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

You sighed, practically collapsing on your bed. Finance is not fun, to say the least. Being the Lady of the house is a suprisingly tiring job, and definitely gives you more respect for your mother.

The servants had already helped you change into your night gown, and you were perfectly ready to hit the hay right now.

As the servant put out the lights in the chandelier, you thought about Satoru again. The guy is an annoyingly persistent thought in the back of your head, that's for sure.

You haven't even talked in a week.

Sure, the two of you tend to get busy, but this essentially just proves to you what kind of marriage this is. If he did care about you, he would've checked up on you atleast once, wouldn't he..? You don't have a right to complain about it anyways, since you were the one who agreed to the marriage in the end. You should be grateful you even had a say in it.

As the servant closed the door behind you, you clutched the pillow in your hand. Maybe if you keep being useful, he won't discard you. You've only been thinking of yourself up until now. You just now realise that if he leaves you for Lady Ichikawa, you'll lose your family face.

This is shaping up to be a nightmare.

Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door. "Oiiii, can I come iiiin?"

Well, speak of the devil. You would recognise that voice anywhere. "Sure, come in." you said so, but did you want to face him right now? You felt conflicted, both really happy and really nervous.

As the door opened, you turned your head, his silhouette, illuminated by the lights in the doorway coming into view. "Man, it's dark in here. You're going to sleep so early?" he said casually as he turned on the oil lamp on your table.

You only nodded in response, looking at him with half wonder half suspicion. Why is he paying you a visit all of a sudden? "What..? Can't a husband visit his wife?" Satoru furrowed his brows, noticing your dimmly lit expression and sitting down on the edge of your bed.

"I'm happy you're here." You assured him. And you truly were.

"Right, of course you are." Satoru smirked boldly at you, but somehow, you could tell that he was relieved to hear it. He looked in front of him.

"I got you this." he said a little more quietly, handing you a book as you sat up in bed. But it wasn't just any book. "No way... how did you even get your hands on this?!" you blinked multiple times in the dim light, making sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

When you realised how loud you just were, you quickly covered your mouth, and Satoru laughed at you for a bit before saying "I have my ways."

"That... doesn't answer the question. How much did this even cost?"

"...You shouldn't worry so much."

That idiot... You took another look at the book in your lap, the rare book you were trying to get your hands on for 3 years at this point. You can't help but wonder if the emergency finance work you had to do today has something to do with this.

"...Why?" you looked back up at him.

"Why what?" he flashed his usual smile at you, his white lashes fluttering as he gazed at you. This all seems... odd.

"Why did you get this for me? Why would you spend so much money on me? How did you even know I wanted this? What are you trying to do... here..." your last question died off as you saw his expression slowly shift to one of concern.

"You're... my wife? And I happen to know you want this? What kind of questions even are those, seriously." he scoffed, shaking his head.

"But... Lady Ichikawa..." why would he spend money on you when he could be putting it towards his future with Lady Ichikawa? Wait, why did you even start assuming that he'll leave you any minute to begin with? Gosh...

"Oh, her? Wait... are you jealous?" he raised his eyebrows playfully, leaning back. "Not really, I just thought that you... like her more than me." it felt strange finally admitting this to him.

"Ehhh.... She's just a friend, ya know. And I actually mean it. Why would I like her more?" Satoru looked as unaffected as ever, smiling at you. But beneath that nonchalant attitude and those shining blue eyes of his, you could feel confusion, doubt, and something else.

"You said in your proposal t-that... So I thought Lady Ichikawa..." all the turmoil that had been building up inside you for the last three months finally let loose, with you trying your best to speak through your tears. Isn't this pathetic?

"Shhh, I know what I said back then. But now that I actually have you, I dunno anymore. I wanna try out this whole love thing." Satoru moved up on the bed, moving over to your side and gently petting your head.

"In other words, you can stop crying now. Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

i dont like this one all that much I'll be real, but then again when do I ever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

this is actually based on a very specific manga plot, if you get it right I'll give you a gold star ⭐

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗ #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk au #female reader #fem reader #x female reader

[amysteryspot]

A Moment of Jealousy | S.R.

Summary: Reader offers to help Spencer when he needs a plus one to go to his friend's wedding. What she didn't expect was to feel so angry when one of your coworkers starts flirting with him.

Warnings:female reader, no use of (Y/N); jealousy; fake dating; fluff; little bit of angst; friends to lovers; coworkers to lovers; mentions fo drinking; mild smut (+18); secret relationship until it isn't.

Word Count: 4.1K

Requested by: @hb-writes

A/N: Hey there, love. I'm sorry it took me forever to fill your request, but I got carried away and made it a whole oneshot instead of just a blurb. A special thanks to @foxy-eva for beta-reading this one.

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | FOLLOW MY WRITING AT @mysteryslibrary

You tried, really hard, not to let people know how annoyed you were by the situation.

“I didn’t know you two were together,” Elizabeth says, surprised.

“Not for long, so we’re keeping it low while everything is still new,” Spencer answers, smiling at you. You smile back, looking at Elizabeth who was already staring back at you.

“I heard about how you arrested that guy last week. It must have been scary.”

“Yeah, it was but I had backup, so I knew it would be okay to push it a little bit.”

“Everybody’s impressed, I heard people in the white-collar department talking about it.

“It was a team effort.” You smile, politely.

“Teamwork is difficult in its own way, it must be harder on you two. Spencer is so clever and you are so…” she paused, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “so strong.”

Blinking once, twice, you force yourself to give her a grim smile, but after that, the conversation turned into a blur for you. It took everything in you not to take it personally, you and Spencer were not dating after all, but the comparison just made you feel… inappropriate. Like you weren’t enough to be with someone like him.

When Elizabeth finally left, you could barely control your feelings.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you exclaimed, making Spencer turn his head to look at you.

“What happened,” he asked, confused.

“What happened? What happened, seriously,” you asked, incredulous. “What fucking happened is that Elizabeth has been flirting with you for the past hour and you did nothing to stop her,” sneering, you made sure to spell her name with a sickly sweet voice.

Spencer frowned, turning his head to search for Elizabeth, who, of course, was looking back at him, trying to look demure as she waved at him right before putting a loose strand of hair behind her ear. In his defense, he did look oblivious to agent Parker’s advances towards him, which did absolutely nothing to wane your anger. When he looked back at you, something seemed to click inside that big brain of his.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “you’re jealous.”

“I am…” it took you a moment to process his words, “Am I what?”

“Jealous,” he promptly answered. “Of Elizabeth,” Spencer made sure to stress her name and you wondered, for a second, where that smug smile came from.

“You’re fucking delusional, Doctor. I’m just worried about how you’re making me look like a complete idiot by flirting with Agent Parker. We’re supposed to be a fucking couple, after all.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, “and that was your idea.”

“To save your ass, because you’re always alone in those kinds of events and you didn’t want to come with that woman Morgan set you up with… What was her name? Kristen?”

“Lauren,” Spencer corrected, putting his hands in his pockets, smirking.

Of course he remembered the name.

“Whatever. It does matter that your friend is getting married, you didn’t want to come alone and I’m here to help you. All I’m asking in exchange is that you don’t make me look like a fool by flirting with someone else.”

"That 's it,” he asked, taking a step closer.

“Yeah,” you nodded, skipping a breath as he stepped closer again, resting one of his hands on the small of your back, “that’s it.”

“Now, you see, I don’t believe you.”

He was so close that you could hear his breath and feel the heat of his body.

“What I do believe, is that you came here with me because you didn’t want anybody else in your place, anybody else with me, and that you’re so riled up by Elizabeth talking to me only because you’re jealous of her, even though all the poor woman did was compliment you the whole time.”

“I… what?”

“She’s interested in you, not me,” Spencer explained and suddenly you felt more like a fool than before.

Looking over his shoulder you could see the disappointed look on Elizabeth's face as she looked at the two of you, but she did smile when your eyes met and, even in the distance, you could swear she was blushing.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer laughed.

“This doesn’t mean that I’m jealous.”

“Oh, it doesn't?”

“No, it does not,” you answered, blinking a couple of times, still trying to process what was happening.

“So you wouldn't mind if I wanted to leave right now, taking you to your home and deciding to go out with Lauren? She texted me a few minutes ago.”

You bit your tongue before answering a faint, “No.”

Spencer hummed, letting go of you and offering his hand for you to take.

“Let’s go then, we already did what was supposed to be done here. Don’t want to let Lauren wait.”

“You… what?” For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Here you were, doing him a favor, and he was paying you back by talking to another woman all this time? “If you’ve been talking to her all this time you should've brought her with you, not me,” you exclaimed, letting go of his hand, walking past him only to hear him laugh.

Turning around, you saw Spencer smiling smugly and all you wanted at that moment was to wipe it out of his face.

“What’s so funny, Reid?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “you.”

“What’s so funny about me,” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“How many times I gotta say that I’m not… Wait, you just said that I’m cute?”

“That’s what you registered from what I said?” he asked, with a hint of amusement in his tone. 

“No, good Doctor, I was saying that I’m not…”

You never got to finish the sentence because Spencer pulled you to him by the hand and planted his lips on yours and, suddenly, you didn’t want to talk anymore. All you wanted was to be able to feel his lips against yours all the time.

Spencer wasn’t half as gentle as you imagined him to be. His hands gripped you tight, keeping you impossibly close to him, and his chapped lips were hungry against your own. When you both came up for air he gave you a quick peck, smiling.

“There’s no Lauren.”

Still in a daze from the kiss, it took you a minute to process his words.

“What?”

“There’s no Lauren. There never was. Morgan just said he was tired from both of us circling around each other, so when the wedding invitation came up he took it upon himself to bring us together. He said you would be jealous about me bringing someone else to the party, so he created that someone.”

“Morgan… what?” Still confused, you were unable to form a coherent sentence.

You were going to kill Derek.

“He wasn’t exactly wrong, was he?”

“You were on board with that?”

He smiled, sheepishly, looking a little bit guilty.

“I’m gonna kill you…”

Again, you were interrupted mid-sentence by Spencer’s lips on yours. Not that you were complaining.

“You’re not going to kill anyone,” he said, both of you out of breath. “Here’s what is going to happen. We’re going to say our goodbyes to the newlyweds, I’m going to take you home, and you’re going to invite me for coffee.”

When you opened your mouth to speak Spencer silenced you again, this time by resting his thumb against your lips.

“Ah,” he reprimanded. “We’re both going up and we’re gonna have a talk about what is happening between us. Okay?”

You weren’t sure what did it for you: maybe it was the hazel of his eyes shining so brightly as he looked at you or his honeyed voice as he told you what was going to happen, maybe it was the way he was holding you so close to his body that made you so comfortable it felt like home. What you were sure of was that there was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

“Okay,” you sighed, relaxing into his arms much to Spencer’s content.

He kissed your forehead, releasing you from his arms and clasping your hand in his instead. When you two turned around to say your goodbyes, there were a couple of people staring at you, including Elizabeth. You shied away from their stares, noticing a blushing Spencer guide you through the crowd. Then you felt a hand grasping your arm gently, making you stop and see an old lady, who you recognized as the bride’s grandmother, smiling at you.

“It’s so beautiful to see such a young couple like yourselves be so in love with each other. It reminds me of me and my husband, we were married for 63 years until he passed away. There will be hard times, but don’t give up on love. I wish you two the very best,” she patted your hand and left, smiling.

You looked at Spencer dumbfounded, finding him looking at you already, a smile on his face. Spencer only squeezed your hand, leading you to the newlyweds before you two left the reception, looking for a taxi.

The ride to your home was silent, your hands intertwined as both of you looked through the windows in opposite directions. After you entered your apartment things shifted from 1 to 100 in a second.

Before you could understand what was happening, Spencer had you pressed between his body and your door, his lips hungry against yours. Responding in kind, your hands found his hair, tugging at it and making him moan against your lips.

Walking both of you to the couch, you gently pushed Spencer to fall against it, quickly straddling his hips before you could lose the courage to do so. Your kisses were greedy, his hands trailing up your thighs, hiking your dress in between his fingers.

You lost no time in freeing him from his jacket, and then his tie, making quick work of unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, trailing kisses along his jaw and down his throat.

“Wait,” he mumbled, holding both your hands in his own, making you stop to look at him. “We need to talk.”

He was right. That was what you were here for in the first place, you were just too lost in each other and ended up caught up in the moment.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a deep breath, “yeah, you’re right.”

You two stared at each other for a moment before kissing again. It was too easy to lose yourself in him, but you really needed to talk so, despite your desires, it was your turn to part from him.

“Coffee,” you murmured against his lips.

Spencer nodded, eyes traveling down your figure as you got up, observing as you set your dress straight.

“Yeah, coffee.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment too long and before you could change your mind, you turned around and left for the kitchen to start making your coffee.

Suddenly there was a presence behind you, strong hands at your waist pulling you close to his body while Spencer trailed kisses down your neck.

“What happened with talking?”

He turned you around in a swift motion, helping you up to sit on the kitchen counter and making quick work of standing between your legs.

“We can talk later.”

And then his lips were on yours and everything else faded to black. There was nothing but him, the feeling of his hands roaming your body, the taste of him on your tongue. It had always been easy for you to get lost in Spencer: in his words, the way he talked, his mannerisms. You shouldn’t have been surprised at how natural it felt to get lost in his touch, letting desire take over as you two melted against one another.

You were too hungry for each other, kissing and grabbing at whatever bit of skin was revealed. One of your hands rested against his chest, right above his heart, feeling his heartbeat, delighted when you noticed how each one of them matched yours. It was as if everything the both of you had gone through was supposed to end here, at this moment, when you were so in tune with one another that even your heartbeats were in sync.

“I want you,” he panted against your lips.

“Then have me,” you answered, before he joined your bodies, making you gasp his name, eyes closing as you gave yourself to him completely.

Waking up next to Spencer should have made you feel in the clouds but it had the opposite effect. Thinking about the previous night, you became worried that all that had been just a one-time thing, maybe the alcohol talking, some unresolved sexual tension that would probably dissolve now that you two got it out of the way. How would it be at work? Would it change anything? Of course, it would, there was no way you would be able to ignore what had happened. You hated how your brain simply wouldn’t let you be happy for more than two seconds.

Spencer stirred awake, slowly stretching his long limbs beside you before resting an arm around your waist, and nuzzling your hair.

“‘Morning,” he mumbled in a raspy voice, nuzzling your hair.

“‘Morning,” you answered, basking in his warmth and affection, forgetting your worries for a second.

Considering how averse to touch Spencer is, you were pleasantly surprised at how good he was with his hands and mouth. Despite the fact that both of you were a little tipsy, Spencer made sure to explore every inch of your body, seemingly as much touch-starved as you were.

Leaning in, he captured your lips in his, kissing you lazily as both of you started to process being awake.

“We should’ve done that sooner,” he said, leaning into his elbow to be able to look at you.

“What? Have a good night of sleep?” You joked, grinning at him.

Spencer smiled back, quickly tickling you, making you squirm and beg for him to stop. When he finally relents, you look at him, both of you wearing big smiles.

“We never got to talk last night.” You laid on your back, looking for his reaction.

“Do we need to? Because I think things are pretty clear after what happened.” He grins.

Playfully, you slapped his arm and silence filled the room for a moment.

“What now?” you asked.

“I think it is safe to say that we both want to try this out or we wouldn’t be here. So we do just that, take it slow, see what happens.”

Nodding, you snuggled closer to him. Spencer pulls you to rest partially on top of him, kissing your hairline.

“Do we need a label?” you asked.

“Not if you don’t want one.”

“Do you need one?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him.

“Not as long as I have you.” He answered, leaning in to peck your lips.

“Coffee?” You grinned, making him laugh.

“Coffee.”

Never in your life would you imagine that after one night, just one night, it would be so difficult to pretend that anything has happened between you and Spencer.

Of course, you were prepared for that when you offered to go with him to the wedding, but you also didn’t imagine that you two would end up in your bed, so you were kinda expecting that things would be less awkward. The team would ask how things had gone, and you would tell them how the party sucked and that was it.

Instead, you had to be careful to not look all lovey-dovey when you arrived in the bullpen, after having to part ways before going into the building to avoid letting people know you two have come to work together.

As you expected, Penelope was waiting for you as you stepped out of the elevator, dragging you to the Batcave before you could utter a word.

“Tell me, how was it?”

She was practically bouncing on her chair, excitedly waiting for your answer.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek before answering.

“Boring,” you answered.

It was partially true. You were never a fan of weddings, even more when you don’t know anybody, so the ceremony, even though beautiful, was not enough to get your attention. After the reception, though…

“Oh, common, you can do better than that.” She complained. “Was the bride beautiful?”

“Yeah, she was. Very traditional, white dress, pretty flowers and all that jazz.”

“And boy wonder?” She asked, a hint of mischief in her smile.

“Spencer was… Spencer.” Which was more than enough for you. “He was, you know, wearing a suit, worn out converse, just… Spencer.”

“And I bet girls were all over him.”

You chuckled a bit at that, remembering Elizabeth.

“Yeah, they were.”

“Nothing more for you to tell me?” she inquired.

“We got out of the party, Spencer took me home, and we’re here now. That's it. Nothing interesting to talk about.” You said, omitting the in-between Spencer taking you home and you two get to work.”

“That sucks,” Penelope complained, making you laugh.

“Sorry for disappointing you.” You shrugged, getting up and patting her shoulder.

“There’s always next time.”

You met Spencer at his desk. Looking around before approaching him, making sure no one was around, you nodded at him.

“JJ and Emily got me the moment I entered the bullpen.” He complained, making you smile in sympathy.

“Pen was waiting for me outside by the elevator.”

He hissed, opening and closing his hands, which you deduced was his way of avoiding reaching out to you.

“This leaves us with Rossi and Hotch,” he said.

“They won’t ask.” You assure him, before thinking again. “I think.”

“Maybe not to us.”

“Well, they do have the girls as a source of gossip.” You sighed.

“Derek on the other hand…” Spencer started, trailing off as you two saw Morgan enter the room.

He looked at the both of you like he knew something the others didn’t. And he did know, considering how he and Spencer had planned the whole “Lauren” thing.

Pretending nothing happened and ignoring the smirk on your friend’s face, you head to your desk, preparing yourself for work.

Not long after, you got him alone in the kitchen under the pretense of getting a refill, standing beside him as you stirred the fresh coffee in your mug.

“You’re gonna regret this.” You said, giving him a side glance.

“Regret what, pretty girl?” Derek asked, turning around to lean into the counter, eyes fixed on you. “Getting you and pretty boy together?”

“We’re not together.” You answered quickly, taking a sip of your coffee to distract yourself.

“Come on, you may have tricked the rest with your lies but don’t forget that I know everything about Lauren.” He grinned.

“Yeah, that’s the reason why you should watch your back.” You smiled sweetly at him, the slightest treat in your tone.

“Should I be worried, pretty girl?” He smiled back, sipping his coffee.

“Oh, I don’t know. You know how people are, someone could share some compromising photos of a certain agent when he was a child, or maybe tell your baby girl about you ignored her advice and went to dinner with that girl… What was her name? Oh, Vivian, right?”

“You wouldn’t.” He said, a hint of worry when you mentioned Penelope.

“Just watch your back, Morgan.”

It only took the time for you to reach the door for his voice to ring in your ears again.

“Or I could always tell people how our pretty boy and pretty girl are now a pretty couple.”

Not daring to turn around to look at him, you gripped your mug tighter, trying to mask 

“We’re not a couple, I already…”

He interrupted you, saying, “You arrived together.”

You gulped, closing your eyes and swearing mentally.

“We did not,” you denied.

“Pretty girl, I saw you two in the parking lot,” Derek explained, standing beside you.

“Derek, you won’t…”

“My lips are sealed.” He said, making a zip signal. “But if you wanna keep this low you two have to be more careful. Penelope might have bought your story this time but you know how she is.”

“I know, I know. She’s going to kill the both of us when she discovers this.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We just want to take things slow.”

“I’m not blaming you for not coming out in the open about this now, just take care.” He said, getting closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “And just so you know, I’m glad that you both are figuring this out, whatever it is.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Derek.”

It was a slow day, with lots of paperwork and boring stuff.

“Drinks tonight. Who's game?” Emily asks, getting up from her chair and picking up her jacket.

JJ nodded, “I’ll let Will know that I’ll be out a little late.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Derek said.

Spencer looked your way and silently agreed that going out for drinks with a bunch of profilers so soon wasn’t a good idea.

“I think I’ll pass this time.” You said, not making a move to leave. “Yesterday I had drinks enough for a couple of days.”

“Giving trouble to Spencer, huh,” JJ said.

Spencer blushed a little. “Just a little bit.”

Everybody laughed as you rolled your eyes, trying to avoid thinking about the kind of trouble you’ve had given him.

Morgan looked at you with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Let's go then. Hotch and Rossi will meet us there in a few, I’ll go get Penelope.” He said, leaving.

“Spencer?” JJ asked.

“Not today, thanks,” he refuses.

“She really gave you trouble yesterday, huh?” JJ joked, before saying her goodbyes to you two.

“You have no idea,” Spencer mumbled under his breath, a smirk on his face.

You throw a ball of paper at him, making him laugh. After that, the both of you prepare to leave in silence, walking together to the elevator.

“My house or yours?” Spencer asked.

“Aren’t we going a little too fast?”

“Haven’t we danced around each other long enough?” He retorted, looking at you.

“Mine.”

In the end, going slow turned out to be far from what both of you wanted. When Spencer wasn’t in your apartment, you were in his, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hide things from your colleagues.

There were countless times in the past few months when you two almost got caught by them. The last one had been in the kitchen when the two of you were getting coffee and Spencer took the risk of taking your hand and his at the same time that Emily entered. You were quick to drop your mug as a diversion, but it was close enough to make the two of you try and distance yourself a little more at work. That seemed to work until one of the times the team decided to go out after a case.

You had roomed with Emily, making it impossible for you and Spencer to see each other for over a week. The both of you were touch starved, having missed each other more than anything despite having seen each other every day. That leads you to this fateful moment.

“So that’s what you two have been sneaking around these past few months,” Emily exclaimed, making you and Spencer jump away from each other.

“If we tell you that this is not what you’re thinking, it won’t work, right?” Spencer asked with his big brown eyes, looking as guilty as someone could be.

“Absolutely not.” She said looking between the two of you with a smirk on her lips. “We’ve been betting on how much time you two would be oblivious over the fact that we all knew.”

“You knew?” You asked and Emily nodded. “All of you?”

“The wedding, right?” She asked, making you try and get your jaw off the floor.

“Fuck,” you and Spencer spoke at the same time.

“Come on, lovebirds. Let’s go downstairs and meet the others for drinks.”

You looked at Spencer, that only shrugged, taking your hand in his so you could follow Emily to the elevator. At that moment, you thought that everything was falling into place. You had Spencer and that’s what mattered.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #reader insert #amysteryspot #mystery writings #+18

[princelylove]

Hi, accidentally stumble in your blog~ I love yandere jojo contents too so I hope to see your content about it :D

I don't know what to request yet but maybe we can talk about type of yandere. What is your favorite type of yandere? Mine is delusion or simp yandere (what characters in jojo you think they will be in this category btw)

Delusional types are adorable to me. There’s just something so charming about someone who’s so bent on being together that their brain skips the entire courting process and goes right into “We’re dating. No actually we’re married and have been married since forever and even our past lives were married. You belong to me what do you mean I have to stop calling for fifteen days.” I think my favored type is protective, but delusionals are too cute to pass on. As for those I think are delusional or simps, off the top of my head…

I’d also argue that Mista’s the type to simp, he’s pretty sure he’ll die if you carry your own shopping bags, but he doesn’t strike me as delusional. Love’s gotta be real to him, you know? He’s the kind of guy that can take a maybe, hell, even a hard no! He knows how to back off, but he’s just gonna keep watch from over here if that’s cool with you. I mean, come on, what kinda “friend” would he be if he let you open your own doors or pay for your own meal? He’s got a job, it’s totally on him! Don’t even think about trying to step over that puddle yourself, he’s already got you up by your legs to carry you across. He’s pretty strong, isn’t he? Oh, he’d die a happy man if you praised him for something like that. He’s like a dog whose tail just won’t stop wagging. You’re his everything, why wouldn’t he try to do things for you all the time? That isn’t weird, don’t shove him into the same category as creepy guys who never give up! It’s like typical hollywood stuff, you know? Romanticism or whatever! 

You know who’s fully delusional, though? I say this with lots of love, but Diego. He just cannot fathom the idea of someone rejecting him, I mean, what’s wrong with him? He’s the prince of the british horseracing world, how DARE you reject him??? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him, don’t play hard to get with him of all people! You should be begging for his attention, not the other way around, but here we are. Diego fully believes that you were made for him, you just don’t understand the gravity (I do think I’m funny for this wordplay) of the situation yet. No matter what happens, you’re always going to be his. As long as he’s got it in his head that you’re more of an object than a real person who has thoughts and feelings like he does, he’s not really going to care about your ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Look, pigeons are just meant to be led, and he’s already somewhat fond of you, so just let him have what he wants. I’m firmly of the belief that if you ever flat out rejected him, he’d just think you were unwell and needed him even more. Be good for him, he doesn’t have the time to play this silly little game of cat and mouse with you right now. 

Joseph is another “You can’t play hard to get forever!” type to me, honestly. He’s persistent like a bloodhound, and is going to get in the way of whatever lover or relationship you’ve got going on right now no matter what. He called dibs on you, so, it’s totally fair. He’ll show up to your apartment or house and completely ignore his training if it means getting just a glimpse of you. So what if he’s got a ring in his throat, he wants to put a ring on your finger! Joseph goes the extra mile for you- literally. If you were to move out of town, he’d walk all the way to your new place if he had to. Joseph won’t be deterred so easily. You just wanted him to get some exercise, right, babe? That’s so thoughtful of you! It makes his day when you look his way, especially if you actually catch him showing off with his training. If you were to actually talk to him, or god forbid compliment him, he’d be reeling for a week. He trails behind you on your errands, taking notes mentally of where you go and what you get. One day he’ll know it by heart, and then you won’t even have to go on errands anymore! Unless you want to go with him, that is. Then he’s totally down for a little couple’s day out. Joseph will buy you whatever you want as long as he gets his fix in. Let him put his head on your lap and just stare, and he’ll be thrilled. I don’t necessarily believe that Joseph would kidnap you if you broke his fantasy too many times, but you’re definitely going to start losing a lot of personal time. It doesn’t matter how he got into your apartment, he made dinner. Haha, ok, you caught him. He ordered dinner. 

I think it’s fairly obvious to say that Yukako is delusional. She has a warped sense of reality. Her crimes really don’t matter to her because she’s making up for it. Look, look, she cooked for you. Stop trying to go for the door or the window. Yukako loves you, so you’re going to be perfect for her, and you’re going to be perfect together. She’s firm about never leaving your side even though she’s already got you all to herself. She sees nothing wrong with skipping dating and going right to locking you up if she thinks you need her for something. You’re failing at that cooking class that school made you take despite your pleas not to? She can do that. You’re awful with directions? She knows every little corner of town. You actually don’t need her and are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself? Don’t talk like that. You need her. There’s absolutely no reason to deny her, so let’s do this the cutesy way she wants it. 

#yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere guido mista #yandere joseph joestar #yandere diego brando #yandere yukako yamagishi #yandere #tw objectification #request granted

[tadashisdisaster]

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦. 𝐄𝐱𝐞 ~ 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 part 1

CWˏˋ°•*⁀➷     Kinda Percy Danny, Goofy Ah reader, hints of smut at the end, movie night turns to something more…

AN- 

Never thought I would get to this lolololololol. But is did guys. Love y’all sm. Thank you for sticking around and waiting. (Istg I’m gonna marry one of you guys someday…🫢🤍)

Danny wipes the drool from your mouth making you whimper and scrunch your nose.

He chuckles, gently lifting your head off the desk and putting his coat under your head. “So cute.” You and Danny had been dating for a whole year now. Everyone knew that, but refused to except the fact that the 2 most hottest college students were going out with each-other.

“Time to wake up love. We should go to your dorm if you’re so sleepy.” Danny chuckles as he tucks the loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Time already…?” You say in a soft sleepy voice. The sound of you voice always made his heart flutter and butterflies that were once calm now restless. You fix your hair and straighten out the skirt you were wearing.  Danny watches the hem of your skirt flap up and down, almost teasing him, showing off the soft curves of your plush thighs that he could suffocate between for days. Danny’s thought drove his crazy, YOU drove him crazy, and he couldn’t do anything about it, well not till you got to your dorm that is. You both got lucky, you ended up sharing a dorm room together due to being in a coed dorm.

The walk was kinda far from the school building you both had in the evening but you didn’t mind. Long walks and deep talks was the best, especially when you had to walk through the pathway filled with trees and many different flowers. You were obsessed with the way the rain water looked on the plants, and the smell of the rain before and after…let’s just say you were content with life. You intertwine pinky with his as you talk about the next movie you both should watch before bed. “Howl’s moving, no, OMG I KNOW! MY NEIGHBORHOOD TOTORO!” you squeal making Danny’s heart skip a beat.

He loved how energetic and enthusiastic you were. You matched his vibe in a completely different way. He was chill and you, well you were a special case. For example, you were skipping while he was walking, making his arm look like a worm. “We’re almost there Danny!” He smiled at you as you let go of his pinky (help this boy, I feel like his face would just drop a little like 😕) you ran to the dorm building and push the door open. Danny couldn’t help but laugh as you trip over literally nothing and open the door in the process. He jogs over to you and holds the door open so you could walk in.

You giggle out a “Thank you kind sir!” As you step inside.

After you two get settled you snatch the remote from the bed side table. You snuggle under the sheets, Danny joining you soon after.

The movie was going great until, you got restless. “Danny…?” You almost making Danny a little hard, but that’s okay you didn’t mean anything by it so fix himself later. You climb on top of his lap resting your head in the crook of his neck feeling up his shirt. “Danny?” Your voice wasn’t as innocent as before, it was soft but laced in lust. “What love?” He runs his and across the top of your thigh to the small of your back rubbing comforting circles. “Didn’t you wanna watch the movie, hm?”

“Danny…I - I don’t wanna watch the movie anymore…” Danny’s hard on stiffens a little more as you move back a forth on his thigh. He grips your hips making you stop your ministrations, “Use your words baby…what do you want?” You grab his shirt in your hands feeling frustrated. “I want you… I want you Danny. I’ll be a good girl.” You look at him through your lashes stoping all brain process. “Okay then, be a good girl and lay down for me hm?”

#❕Khai’s queue #Tadashisdisaster #part 1/2

[pinklikeroses]

Gotta give it look to RS for misinterpreting what her readers and critics are upset about

RS needs to understand, ppl aren’t upset persephone is in a healthier place , developing a healthy relationship with her partner—-

Ppl are upset bc of the way it was handled:

TW://…mentions of SA, R*pe, Sexual trauma..//:

She had her MC get assaulted, go to therapy once, have a ten year time skip and briefly mention that she talked to her therapist about virginity in a very textbook manner

The problem I have is that we don’t see how Persephone has healed during the decade she’s been banished in the mortal realm.

We don’t see her continue therapy, bonding with her nymph friends,mentally or emotionally process her trauma. We don’t see her exploring methods outside of therapy or being consulted by anyone. Her healing journey is practically non existent.

We get very dry tasteless glimpses of her being horny. If she’s craving sex that’s fine, if she’s sexually frustrated that’s okay too. What’s not okay is not explaining how she got to that point. How is she okay with being sexual? How does she view herself with sex? What is her own personal relationship with sex? What does sex mean to her? How is she this comfortable with being publicly horny??

I’ve already mentioned that it’s okay to show a sa victim wanting and craving sex a while ago. that it can be an empowering thing and it’s a missed opportunity that RS not only overlooked but did a terrible job at writing.

Even when Hades and Persephone talk about sex, her SA is never mentioned, not once, we’re constantly told how this is supposed to be a healthy relationship and it’s shown that it’s not.

Neither one of them mentions the assault or brings up the mental and emotional issues it could cause during, before and after sex. It just comes across as RS just wanting her characters to bone instead of getting through the important parts that have the potential to leave impact.

But also outside of her trauma persephone hasn’t really struggled?? She fled to hades shortly after her warrant was issued, hide at his place going in shopping sprees and lounging, worked on in the mortal realm for ten years, easily defeated a Titan god, lounged at hades place some more, and agreed to marry the guy and constantly wanting to work.

What has she struggles with outside of her trauma???Nothing. The writing just tries to trick u into believing that bc there’s more telling than showing.

It’s clear RS can’t take criticism I get feeling frustrated with how ppl react to your writing but instead of posting vague tweets maybe consider getting your characters and story together and be mindful of how you wrote trauma and what u need to do incorporate respectfully into your work

#me ramblings #sorry this was so long #lore olympus critical #lo critical #lo persephone

[sillystardew]

I haven't seen this before but I thought it was a cute idea, so if you like it i'd love to see it written

My prompt is the farmer being good with kids and genuinely enjoys spending time with Jas, so they agree to keep an eye on her when Shane is out of town for therapy or something (and for sone reason Marnie can't).

Cue Shane coming back and seeing Jas curled up on top of the farmer, both of them asleep on the couch after watching a movie or in a blanket fort or something, and Shane instantly having a "Fuck, I love them" moment.

The scenario could take place while they're dating, already married, or while they're still friends and this is the moment he realizes he's in love with them, i'll leave that up to you.

I'm usually an angsty mf living for the pain but tbh I just want Shane to be happy lol

Thank you!!

AGHH yes i love this prompt!! I think i saw it once or twice over on Ao3, its such a cute one!!

Gender neutral reader 🦇

-Shane spends a lot more time with Jas than he did before he started going sober, which now includes picking her up from school and hanging out with her on the weekends and during festivals

-He wants to make sure this kid has a good life. She had a rough start, and he doesn’t want to be another reason for her to feel miserable.

-so, when the day comes that Marnie’s busy and he can’t take care of her, he’s a little stumped.

-normally he would have left her with Vincents mom, but he knows she’s busy today, so who else can help take care of her?

-Well.. the farmer’s not too busy today, right? Maybe she can hang out on the farm? After all, she always talks about all the pretty plants the farmer is growing.

-He asks her, and Jas is ECSTATIC. Jas was super shy when she first met the farmer, but now she loves talking about all the fun things they do and how she wishes she could hang out with them. And now she CAN?!

-She’s hopping and skipping the whoooole way there.

-He knows you wouldn’t do anything stupid with a kid around, so he trusts you to watch her while he heads into the city for his therapist appointment.

-He decides he’s probably going to pick something up in the city to bring back for you two, like food or a game

-anyway! You and Jas are gonna have so much fun :))) I imagine she probably likes to make jewelry (kandi-style or rainbow loom!) so you guys can just hang out at the house and make cute little crafts

-She really likes movies, so you also watch a few of those. You aren’t really sure how long Shane will be gone, so you pick out quite a few

-You two eventually fall asleep on the ground in front of the tv, surrounded by blankets, pillows, and any other soft thing you could find. Your pet is curled up right alongside you two in a big cuddle pile :)

-When Shane gets back and nobody answers the door, he guesses you probably took her out to explore somewhere. He knows you keep the door unlocked though, so he walks in to set down the things he bought, and-

-Oh. My. God.

-He thinks he can feel his pupils dilate when he sees you two passed out on the floor in a little puddle of blankets. Is he crying? Are those tears?

-Takes a moment to compose himself - he literally can’t handle how adorable this is. Why is his heart fluttering? What is going on??

-He turns the tv down since it’s still running, and in the process accidentally wakes up Jas, who immediately glomps him.

“Uncle Shane!!”

“Yoba, kid, keep it down!”

-Her jumping around wakes you up, obviously

-He immediately starts thanking you and apologizing for taking so long

-You’re like, half asleep. You dont process any of it

-after you wave them off and they start heading home (with Jas rambling the whole way about what you two did) he kind of just feels a dawning “oh, shit.”

-lets just say he didn’t get the recommended hours of sleep that night

(If anyone wants this turned into a proper fic and not just this bulletin-style type of writing, let me know! Im thinking of starting an Ao3 account for a shane fic I’ve been working on, so I need other things to post on there too ❤️)

#stardew valley #stardew fanfic #stardew shane #stardew jas #my writing #i hope you enjoy!

[kitkatt0430]

🌵🕯️📚🍬🥐

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

So I'm not really a playlist maker type person. Or a playlist-seeker-outer. (Seeker of playlists?) When I play music I just kind of stick whatever I'm in the mood for on shuffle. I've got a Plex server set up for my personal media - tv shows, movies, music - so I've got the music categorized by somewhat broad genres. That way I can just click a category and hit play + shuffle on it.

That said, I've contributed a little to the Heck Yeah Harrisco Playlist, so I do recommend that one. It's fun to listen to and does have a Harry/Cisco vibe to all the songs on it. I don't listen to it often, but I do check back in every so often to see what's new.

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Depends on when the editing happens. And we'll call 5 a neutral point between hating this process and happily typing away.

Pre-posting a fic/chapter? - 8 or 9. The spelling grammar aspect is nit-picky, but I like that I can go back and fix a scene that isn't working, add stuff I forgot, or move things that work better at a different point in the story. I can change the tone of a scene if necessary or fix mistakes where a character did something twice when they should have only done it once, or they left but are still there.

But post editing? - 2 or 3. There's always another spelling/grammar issue to find, some which screw up the meaning of a sentence. Who approved this to post??? (Me, that's who, it's me, I'm at fault, whoopsie-daisy) And if I want to add something to the chapter that wasn't there or remove something that is there or... then it's difficult to let people who have already read it know there's been a fix. *sigh*

I never completely hate editing because the editing process always makes the fic better in the end. But my enjoyment (or lack thereof) of the process is definitely variable.

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

I don't have any recent/new story notes as such, but I do have a fic I've been working on today. I've been reviewing my Armageddon notes, trying to make progress on an Iris-centered fic there. And I've decided to skip over Iris' ill-fated adventure with Ryan (Wilder, not Choi) for now (I'm gonna write it, it's gonna be pretty awesome for Iris despite Eobard hitting the reset button on her) and move to the scene I've been really wanting to write for a while. Iris and Barry meeting at Jitters, Iris struggling to accept that her fiance - Eobard - is actually the bad guy here.

She knows it, but she hasn't accepted it quite yet.

For a moment she'd felt the timeline shifting around her like a choppy, angry river... and known the truth for herself.  And in the wake of that certainty, she'd agreed to meet Barry.  To hear what he had to say for himself and to learn what Eobard Thawne had stolen from her in his obsession with harming Barry. Now she was less certain.  Iris was engaged to Eobard.  She loved him.  She wanted to be married to him and spend her life with him.  But... there were things she was giving up to be Eobard's wife.  Including the possibility of children, something he adamantly didn't want.  Iris thought she was okay with that.

Seeing the vision of her children in the real timeline is hitting iris pretty hard. And thus also breaking through what amounts to Eobard brainwashing Iris.

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

One of the reasons we like Leonard Snart so much - aside from Wentowrth Miller's stellar performance - is because we didn't really have much of him on the Flash. He was used sparingly and then snatched away by Legends before he could get utilized to his full extent. Which is something we all lament because his potential as a character was so vast...

But because the Flash writer's didn't really use him much, particularly after he died, they didn't get to screw him up and that was a good thing. We saw what they did with Savitar/The Future Flash arc. We saw how Eobard got flandarized all to hell by the end of the show. We saw Season 5 couldn't make up it's mind about who the main villain was. We saw how season 6 started off tightly plotted in the front half only to get lost in the weeds and do Iris a major disservice in the back half. We saw how poorly handled Cisco's send off was. We saw the three conflicting plots in a trenchcoat that was Armageddon... We saw the continual retconning of Hartley because they couldn't let go of The Sound and Fury.

As much as I wish we had more of Leonard Snart on the show... I think maybe having less meant his characterization dodged a major bullet. And I'm thus also extremely glad we have exactly what we got and no more too.

... I don't know if this is exactly an unpopular opinion, but it's definitely not something brought up a lot with all the musing on how awesome a Rogue's season would have been if the plot lead in for it hadn't been mishandled and dropped. Which is definitely a popular topic for Snart fans.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

Miette

I've definitely made so many Miette style jokes, substituting in my dog for Miette.

Estelle pouting because I won't feed her half-an-hour early? Jail for human, jail for a thousand years for starving poor puppy.

hehehe

#kitkatt0430 answers #writer ask game #emoji ask meme #thank you for asking ^_^

[clunelover]

My best friend from high school was here this past weekend for the baby shower. It’s an interesting situation - we were SO CLOSE in hs, and then she also was best friends in grade school with my current-day BFF (B)- they went to the same private grade school and then to different public high schools.

….I think a lot of this next part I’ve already written about here; so feel free to skip to the bottom couple paragraphs to get to present day update…

This friend, C, went to BU for college and met a guy there and got married (I think my youngest-married friend! Right out of college). So she settled her life fully in Boston right from the start.

Meanwhile, B and I went to the same college - and C was like “oh I hope you’ll be friends, you’re my two best friends, that would be so cool!” Initially I did NOT want to be friends with B cause I thought she was not “cool” enough (lol) but once it dawned on me that I was also not cool and had not made any friends, I embraced B and we’ve been BFFs ever since! But as it turned out, C was NOT so thrilled that we were BFFing it up, while she experienced that classic problem of “getting first boyfriend early in college” - you focus so much on “omg I have a boyfriend!!” that you forget to make other friends…oops.

Over time, the distance and C’s prickliness about B and I being friends led to us growing apart. We also would all hang out together on school breaks and so on, with often bleh results that I now see were because, while all of us were friends, it was more several discrete friendships that had never really overlapped, ie we didn’t grow up as “three best friends” or anything and so we tried to do best-friends transitive property and that did not work.

Further complicating things is that C’s mom is out and out insane, and abusive, similar to my mom but way way worse, so that made her not really want to come back here, and so visits became rarer.

The distance between us kept growing, and then I had kids whereas C very vehemently has never wanted them, so that made us grow further apart…I can be friends with people without kids, but her lack of interest, and strange stilted way of trying to appear interested, really put me off! I came to think of her as an obligation friend. I always “owed” her a call, and because I avoided them, whenever we talked it always took HOURS to fully catch up (I had not yet learned the skills of being more assertive on getting off the phone). So then that made me avoid harder, her feelings were always hurt, etc etc.

About five years ago, I was in the process of talking with a therapist about how to effectively “break up” with her (ie, “I’d love to catch up with you if you’re in town, but I am not a phone person and I can’t keep this up” type language)…and then she asked B and I to call her together, and when we did she let us know that she’d been diagnosed with MS.

So I shelved my break up plans indefinitely to try to be there for her. Which was challenging - SHE became really avoidant and non-responsive to contact attempts - because she was depressed as hell about her diagnosis and she pretty much shut down (understandable of course). Talking to her about it was difficult. I wanted to show support and interest, but not make every call into “so how’s the MS?” …she acknowledged that nobody could say the “right” thing and she was always angry, because she wanted people to care but she also really didn’t want to talk about it. So B and I did our best, but it’s hard to contend with that level of anger and hopelessness, or to know what to say back.

In the intervening years, a few things have happened - we settled into a slightly more comfortable pattern of not calling each other, and C started getting therapy, which has helped her become a little more relaxed and open (oh, due mostly to her family situation, she was prone to compartmentalizing things, and there were certain things she just would not talk about, and if you accidentally got too close to them she would shut down and it could be very awkward -through therapy, she does that a lot less now). I think there’s also more acceptance now around the fact that B and I live in the same town and see each other all the time, we’re doing the kid thing, we’re going to be closer to each other and that’s just how it is.

…but I did still feel like more often than not, I owed her a call, and I have also found more and more over time that I HATE TALKING ON THE PHONE I just never want to do it, and I am actually okay with drifting apart from people I don’t live near, based solely on me not wanting to do phone (or FaceTime or zoom or anything). And that probably sounds shitty and cold, but…it is what it is, maybe I’m cold. So I’d once again been contemplating a “hey I’m never going to do phone” talk with her.

ANYWAY all this brings us to her coming to the baby shower - as soon as I saw her, I felt this rush of emotions - “omg I MISS HER!!” I can almost cry thinking about it. She stayed the whole weekend and left yesterday afternoon so the three of us hung out several times. Now that we’re full adults and have stopped trying to force “we’re all best friends!” we actually ARE close as a group and can hang out happily. I’m realizing now - I got so hung up on the guilt and avoidance cycle that it clouded what I actually think of her, as a person, which is that I love her very much! And that in this case, the friendship probably IS worth me trying a little harder. Also some of my avoidance has to do with anxiety and is not always something to say “that’s just how I am” about.

She said that she and B have been having success with doing a call on a planned date, and then setting the next date at the end of the call so as to skip the “oh yeah I’ll call you sometime soon…” dance. So I said I’d be willing to try that too. And I will! And I’ll see how that goes, and report back! GROWTH, I suppose.

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 24

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,065

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: LET'S JUST TALK

Compared to the decades you've both been apart before, it really hasn't been much longer than a blink of time since you've last seen Bucky, yet you're staring like a deer in headlights anyways, struggling to process all of these damned emotions that overtake you like a tidal wave. At least you're not alone in this reaction, though.

Despite having been the one to call you, Bucky doesn't say anything too quickly himself. He holds the camera at a slightly awkward angle, struggling to keep it level which you aren't sure he realizes. Thankfully, the image remains crystal clear no matter how much he shakes the screen, allowing you to still dwell on his handsome features as if he were standing right here in front of you: his hair and beard have gotten longer, the former tied back into a messy bun; it's a nice look.

"Merry Christmas!" You blurt at last, cursing how much your smile must make you look like a giddy teenager. Oh well, you're too surprised by this unexpected video call to stress over it.

"Merry Christmas," Bucky repeats accompanied by laughter, a smile adorning his own face. You notice it immediately, unable to skip how much happier he seems in the moment compared to months ago. He carries this sort of glow to himself now that you had only ever seen snippets of while on the run, not to mention there's no longer bags under his eyes nor a drag to his voice. He's relaxed, and that alone makes you feel far better than you have been.

Shortly after Siberia, Steve had sent a letter to give you a vague update on things, however that only gave you temporary peace of mind. You often paced around your room wondering just how safe this 'Wakanda' could be for the love of your life. Steve said it's a very secure country and you trust Steve, but cat-man also tried to kill Bucky every time their paths crossed. Will Wakanda really protect him now? Are they capable of protecting him? Is he happy there and not as depressed as your nightmares tell you he is? You could never be quite sure of any answers until finally allowed to confirm them with your own eyes.

"How, um...How have you been?" You ask to get the conversation rolling, struggling to find a comfortable seat leaned against your pillows in the meantime. Not once during your readjustments do you take your eyes away from the tablet.

"I've been good," Bucky answers quickly, although after thinking it over, he decides to add, "I, uh, don't know how much Steve told you, but I actually went under for a while until the Wakandans could find a cure for the Winter Soldier...so that's all better now..."

He tries to play it off as if it's not a big deal, but ends up smiling shyly once you gasp with a huge grin, "Wait, you're serious?! Does that mean there's no more Winter Soldier at all?!"

"W-Well, we tried the trigger words and they didn't work -"

"- Bucky, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you! I was just thinking something seemed different about you, too - that you look more at ease and all. Oh, I'm sure, though! No more worrying about the other guy coming out must really take a big weight off your shoulders, huh?"

He blushes at your kind words, "We shouldn't get our hopes up too high yet...but yeah, it's been pretty nice having one less thing to worry about."

"That's really good news, Bucky - wonderful news!" You can't stop smiling, "What else have you been up to? You'll have to tell me all about Wakanda. They're known for vibranium and I watched King T'Challa's speech, but that's about the extent of my knowledge. What's it like there? Are you enjoying yourself?"

'Are you happy?' Is the question you're trying to hint at, desperately wanting to hear him say the words which will rest your anxieties in regards to everything that happened the last time you saw each other.

Fortunately, Bucky's eager to nod, "It's nice here. They've set me up with this little hut where I'm able to take care of goats all day and the villagers are super nice even though I'm still struggling to learn their language - Oh, and it's all by this huge lake, too. Did you get to see it? I think I put a picture on your tablet. I did it without any help, though, but I think I got it?"

You chuckle, "I did. You set it as the background. I'm assuming you're my secret Santa who sent this then?"

He nods more bashfully this time, "...Do you like it?"

"If it lets me finally catch up with you, then I love it."

This seems to please him as he goes to explain, "Shuri suggested it as a good gift. 'said none of the calls can be tracked by the government, so it would be a safe way to talk to you without giving away either of our locations."

"Smart. Steve sent a burner phone with his letter, but yeah, I didn't want to use it if it would risk any of you seeing as the government's apparently been searching nonstop for your whereabouts."

For the first time, Bucky frowns, the screen shaking a bit as he must've sat down, "...Have they been giving you a lot of trouble because of me?"

His fears dim your own bright spirit, however you don't want to focus on that nor do you want him to. Waving your hand with a so-so sign, you respond truthfully, "Eh, it's been touch and go. I wasn't formally charged with anything at least. Thanks to Tony putting in a good word for me, I pretty much got a slap on the wrist and required monthly meetings with a probation officer, although I do think they've been watching me pretty closely from afar. You know, in case I get into contact with any of my 'fugitive' friends, but seeing as the FBI hasn't busted down my bedroom door yet, they must be slacking off for the holidays."

Bucky gives a dull hum.

"I can't complain, though. Overall, they've been extremely lenient with me all things considered and hey, I get to live in the new Avengers' compound which is a total win! Like, do you see this room? This is first class living right here!" You turn on the opposite camera, proudly showing off your room for Bucky to see, however to your disappointment, it still only brings a vague tug to his lips before they fall back into a frown, "...Okay, what's wrong? Out with it, Barnes."

He fidgets with his own device, not looking into his camera directly even after you turn yours back to your face. When you draw out his name and thus show your refusal to simply drop the topic, he finally caves in, "I don't understand how you aren't upset with me..."

"Why would I ever be upset with you? Bucky, you've done nothing wrong. You were my friend. Together, we were living a peaceful life in Romania which was honestly the happiest months of my life. It was Zemo who came and ruined it. You couldn't have done anything to prevent that. He caught us all by surprise, even the Avengers -"

"- I know...I know..." He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, "I know you care about me and I know you never hesitate to protect me...But I just keep repaying Siberia in my head. I can't help thinking about when we confronted Zemo and everything that happened afterwards -"

"- Are you mad at me?"

Bucky's head shoots up, looking at you with wide eyes and shock written over his face, "Why would I ever be mad at you?"

It's your turn to shy away from the camera, rubbing the fabric of your pajama sleeves between your fingers as a distraction, "...I don't know. We went all that way together, we almost escaped, then I chose Tony over you at the last minute...I could've gone with Steve and you - "

"- He's your friend -"

"- So are you," you sigh, dropping your head back against your pillows in defeat, "...I didn't even say goodbye to you - I didn't say anything to you! What kind of friend does that?! ...Be honest with me, Buck. Did that upset you?"

He hesitates, "...Yes..."

You inhale through your nose, the guilt pricking your heart the same way it did back then.

"But I wasn't upset with you - not by any means. I was just upset with myself. At first, it was because I saw what I had done. You can argue that I didn't do it physically and that I had no power to stop it, but at the end of the day, Zemo used me to get between the Avengers and it was because you tried protecting me that you almost got into trouble yourself -" When you open your mouth to object, Bucky shakes his head, not giving you the chance, "You can't deny that part, (Y/n). If I wasn't involved, you wouldn't have had a reason to fight your friends or go against the law...That's the other thing that upset me...

"You had given up so much for my sake already - I never wanted to see you sacrifice anything else, yet you were still willingly to. That's why I should've been happy to see you choose Stark's side in the end. I should've been relieved that you finally put me aside for once to make your own choice...but I wasn't happy and that made me angry with myself. Even in that moment, regardless of how much you had given me, I was still hoping you'd go with Steve and I. I felt...lost when you didn't, then guilty for feeling that way because like I said, I should've just been happy for you instead. What right did I have in being that selfish -?"

"- Bucky -"

"- I'm not upset anymore, though - you should know that. I've had a lot of time to think things over for myself here in Wakanda and I thought about, um...- I mean it when I say I'm happy that you've been, uh, happy this whole time, too..." He begins to stumble with his words, trailing off with an eventual curse, "The thing is -...I've realized -...Shit, how do I say this -?"

"- It doesn't feel right when we're apart," you suggest, earning his attention, although you merely shrug with a smile, "No matter what you do, no matter who you're around, you always feel like something or someone's missing. You can be in a room filled with people and still feel lonely without that one person you had gotten so accustomed to being around all the time."

"Y-Yeah..." He rubs the back of his neck with one hand, a faint blush covering his cheeks, "You feel that way, too, then?"

"All the time. It's gotten a little better, but as it turns out, it's surprisingly hard to reset your life after two years."

"Tell me about it," Bucky rolls his eyes and chuckles. He brings his other hand back to the tablet, his mouth moving, however you don't hear anything making you smirk as you realize the reason as to why.

"James, hun, I think you've muted yourself."

He frowns before looking around as he seems to be calling for someone while tapping several buttons in an attempt to fix the problem himself. A girl soon appears on screen temporarily, shouting at him (which you don't need volume to understand) then swatting him away in order to take the tablet and unmute the video herself.

"- I swear, you're worse than a toddler - or my brother for that sake! Always touching stuff and poking buttons! Keep your hands to yourself!" You hear her curse as she walks off, leaving Bucky to pout and look back at you with obvious embarrassment.

"...Is that better?"

"Much," you snuffle your laughter, "You were saying?"

He appears caught off guard by your question and it takes him a good minute or two to remember the exact train of thought he had been having before, yet thanks to you repeating what you had said last yourself, it manages to jog his memory.

"...I was gonna say that I miss you," he admits bashfully, "Don't get me wrong, I like Wakanda and I'm grateful for everything everyone's done for me here even though Shuri can be intimidating at times, but I, um, really miss how it felt living together. I miss how comfortable I automatically felt around you and the way I could just - I don't know, turn around to talk to you. I miss that simple life we had where things actually felt normal as if we weren't on the run or had any terrible secrets to hide...Thanks to you I felt like a normal person and I could never thank you enough for that..."

You feel your heart soar which no doubt shows on your beaming expression, "I meant it earlier when I said those years we spent together were the happiness of my life. I missed -...I've missed you since then. If I'm allowed to be dramatic, it's utter hell whenever I have to go long periods of time without hearing your voice let alone be able to see you with my own eyes. You're a critical part of my life, James. It doesn't matter how much time passes nor what crazy stuff life likes to throw at us, that fact will always remain the same."

Bucky's blush grows brighter and although he dips his head down a bit to hide it, the smile he bites back is enough to let you know your words haven't crossed any line, thus you refuse to take them back.

"Maybe after the smoke's officially cleared, it'll be safe to see each other in person again and, if we're real lucky, we might even be able to, I don't know, live together again - If you're interested in that, of course."

"I'd like that," he nods, his voice breathless despite not having done any kind of exercise, "...I'm just not sure how plausible it'll be. What if the government -"

"- James, it's the government. It took them two years to find us the first time and as much as I hate to admit fault, I think we were getting a bit sloppy towards the end anyways. Living in the city, going on walks and coffee dates - I bet if we used a more concrete strategy, we'd never be found again. As far as the government would be concerned, we dropped off the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard of."

"What's this 'concrete strategy' entail?" Bucky asks, finding himself mirroring the slight smirk you give in response. He knows you well enough to guess you already have a plan in mind and your hum as you pretend to think doesn't fool him into believing he's wrong.

"Hmm...Well, based on the movies I've watched, it seems the go-to spot for hiding is somewhere completely off the grid - preferably the country since I've seen people move to high up mountains and I am not dealing with anywhere colder than Romania."

He chuckles.

"Think about it, though? We'd live off the land, so we wouldn't have to risk going into town for anything and being seen."

"I think living off the land is a lot harder than the movies, dear."

"Oh, we'll figure it out. We're both pretty smart - I am at least," you dismiss while ignoring the nickname he used. You have to worry about one thing at a time and if you make a convincing enough plan for your imaginary futures, you might just get to hear Bucky call you other sweet names that sit directly in your heart, "Also, if we go to the country, you can bring your little goats, too. Good deal, right?"

"I'm not sure if the Wakandans will let me steal their goats."

"I meant we can get you your very own goats. Please don't start stealing goats from people, Bucky. It's frowned upon," you roll your eyes which seems to trigger a yawn you would've never commented on, however Bucky does:

"It's pretty late there, isn't it? I should probably let you sleep -"

"- It's fine. I'm a world champion for lack of sleep, second to only Tony. It's a Stark thing, I suppose."

"Hypocrite," is Bucky's teasing response as he interprets your words in another way than what you had actually meant; a good thing, too, seeing as you're beginning to lose your self control. Yes, you can force your body to stay up for as long as needed to keep talking to him, however is it worth the risk of blurring the lines further between past and present, friend and fiancée?

"Not a hypocrite. I can function just fine on little sleep. You turn into a big grump, though," you counter, muffling another yawn behind your hand. Unfortunately, the smarter side of you eventually forces out the words you've been desperately trying to deny, "...Maybe you're right. Maybe I should get some sleep. It's been a long day..."

Bucky smiles triumphantly, proud to have won an argument with you for once and without having to say much either, although he must secretly admit his own bitter feelings towards the thought of this conversation ending. He could talk to you all night if allowed...

"...Hey (Y/n)...I -'' He starts suddenly after what felt like forever of silent thought, however you cut him off by holding up a hand and giving a tired smile.

"- I think I know what you're going to say, but how about you wait to tell me in person, alright?"

The stress visually melts off his bones into a sigh as he happily accepts not having to worry about those terrifying words right now, after all he prefers your suggestion of waiting for an opportunity to tell you in person anyways, although he does frown slightly at the thought of how long that'll take. This call ending brings him back to reality, reminding him that he doesn't get to see you nearly as often as he would like...How long will he have to wait until you're within arms length again? How long until the right moment to utter those words?

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"You'll start calling regularly, yeah? Remember: it's utter hell for me not to hear from you. You'll take pity on me by calling sometimes, right?"

Bucky smiles gently and nods, "I'll call as often as I can."

NEXT CHAPTER ->

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#bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #captain america #captain america cw #captain america civil war #falcon and winter soldier #winter solider x y/n #winter solider x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes x y/n #sam wilson #stark!reader #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #reader insert

[the-6th-harbringer]

listen scaramouche hear me out

you guys can skip the dating process youre basically already dating so please just go and GET MARRIED ALREADYYDFWHEFOIEWHOI

We are not dating. I don't know what you're seeing but you're seeing it wrong.

We're not getting married either. This isn't the first time you people have requested this.

#to spite the gods #hinadori flowerboy era

[tehuti88-art]

2/17/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Margit Dannecker. She's a pretty new character and is the mother of THIS guy. She's deceased before the main story takes place but played a large role in the personal development of her son's character. There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding her design, since her son is intended to be a purebred Siberian husky I guess that means she is too, though she's quite petite in size. She's intended to resemble her son's (later) stepdaughter, Margarethe (similar name too), although they're not related.

TUMBLR EDIT: I'm stepping into it deciding to draw this particular character 😕 but I want to exorcise her from my head. I'm going to have to try to keep details vague but a WARNING ahead of time, the Dannecker family is probably the most disturbing aspect of this story (well, aside from the literal Holocaust), so whenever their detailed profiles go live on Toyhou.se I may finally use an individual profile warning page (currently I just use a general warning for my entire account since I have so much triggering content). Meaning that although I won't go into gruesome detail here, yes, it will still be disturbing and offensive.

I'll say outright that the Dannecker storyline involves intergenerational child abuse. So please skip the rest of the entry if that's too much, I fully understand. Just a note that this isn't a plot point "just because"--in fact, while I knew of the situation with Dannecker and his stepdaughter, I only recently learned of that between him and his mother, it wasn't planned from the start. I generally don't try to get too far into the psyche of people like Dannecker, I figured he's just similar to a psychopath (if not specifically one), but the reason behind some of his behavior (a reason, not an excuse) emerged, so I felt the need to develop it. It's not intended merely to shock but to explain how somebody became so despicable.

All right, now that there's been a warning...

I've already gone over, various times, the terribly inappropriate relationship between SS labor camp commandant Ernst Dannecker and his young stepdaughter Margarethe, or Gret; I've never just come out and said it. Dannecker literally stalks and then marries Gret's mother, Else, for the specific purpose of grooming Gret, whom in a twisted way he considers to be his "true" wife. She's like fourteen or fifteen when he marries her mother; he gives her a year. So she's about sixteen when the abuse starts, and it continues until she's around eighteen or nineteen when she encounters Josef Diamant at the labor camp and the rest of the story has been told. Gret knows about the hidden passageway under the labor camp, which she and the prisoners use to escape, as Dannecker took her down there once to abuse her; this is why he told her nobody would be able to hear her scream.

Their relationship is a painfully complicated one in that, while on some occasions (like in the passageway) he's an absolute brute toward her, even going so far as threatening to target her younger sister, or put her family in his camp if she doesn't obey, on other occasions he comes across almost like a normal, doting father, spoiling her with gifts, fawning over her accomplishments, treating her with actual kindness. Part of this, obviously, is just the typical grooming process. Another part of it, however, is Dannecker's genuine feelings. He DOES love Gret. But it's a very messed-up, twisted-up love in that he doesn't have the same emotional capacity that other people do. He realizes what he does to her is morally wrong but that's not HIS morality, and on some level he does hope she'll come around and willingly become his wife. He's not insane. I don't even think I can call him a pure psychopath/sociopath as he DOES care about her, and his mother Margit, in a way I don't think psychopaths can. But...it's just corrupted and hopelessly messed up. Dannecker isn't capable of normal, healthy love; this is the way he was born, though his mother's actions helped refine it and bring it out. I think he still would've been messed up, and incapable of a healthy relationship, even without what his mother did (she herself sees this dark side of him emerge more than once, and it unsettles her). It's just that he probably wouldn't have ended up continuing the cycle by targeting Gret. Margit just helps cultivate what's already there. I. e., Dannecker was screwed from the start.

Result of all this is Gret despises her stepfather and tells Diamant she wants him dead, AND she actively participates in his murder, even taking a trophy--his honor sword (symbolic?)--afterward; yet after the dust has settled, and he's no longer a threat...she realizes, oddly, that she loved him, too. She always refers to him as "Papa," and frequently recalls the loving things he did for her--sure, most of these were just his grooming efforts, to try to win her over--but there was a genuine fatherly moment here and there and she remembers these fondly. There's even this unsettling scene, where Gret, by now aiding in the plot on Dannecker's life, asks him to take her back down to the hidden passageway where he did such awful things to her; he's actually surprised that she'd ask this (indicating that he's aware of how he hurt her), yet agrees. It's for reconnaissance reasons, but still, a harrowing--and confusing--experience. This has been edited (mostly text omission but a word change or two, as well) for obvious reasons; I'm going to eschew my typical ellipses, as they seem too suggestive. This was written before the plot point with Dannecker's mother developed, BTW.

She was skilled at readying herself relatively quickly, washing herself up and restyling her hair into its two customary long blond braids which her stepfather loved so much, putting on her undergarments, choosing her best dress from the closet full of beautiful dresses Dannecker had bought for her. She knew he liked the black dress the most, the way it complemented his SS uniform, drawing looks from both inmates and guards as they'd walk across the prison grounds. He was a lot like a vain cockerel puffing itself up as it paraded around its prize hen, she mused, and this thought gave her a tiny spiteful tang of delight as she hurried to slip the dress on and tie herself into it. Shiny black boots much like his own, and black bows on her braids, joined it, and with a final glance at herself in her mirror, she headed for the breakfast table.

Her mother, younger brothers, younger sister, stepfather all glanced at her as she entered; her mother and the older of her two brothers looked pensive, while Dannecker beamed even brighter than her mother had earlier, and she knew her ruse had worked; his vanity about his beloved camp and his position in it were his weak spot. "Come, sit beside your papa," he said, patting an empty chair, and she obeyed. The rest of breakfast went relatively normally, Gret eating silently as the others chattered, though under the table, her stepfather clasped her hand in his own, caressing her fingers.

Dannecker didn't follow the standard practice of a commandant living at his camp, she wasn't sure why, perhaps because of his family; she suspected he'd live there if not for them. Obviously someone higher up had granted an exception. His camp had never had any major incidents, his inmates and guards were well behaved, so perhaps this earned him some leniency. Every day he took a shiny black chauffeured car to the camp and today was no exception; they were allowed to drive within the main gate and slightly into the yard itself, where Dannecker would exit, taking hold of Gret's hand to help her step out and avoid muddying her boots and dress. She would loop her arm about his and he would walk her toward the main building as if she were his prize. They were always greeted politely by the adjutant and the other guards and the kapo if he were assisting Dannecker that day; Gret always greeted them politely back. On their way across the yard, she would also surreptitiously peer toward the inmates, see if any were paying especial attention. She spotted him off to the left and somewhat toward the back today, the Jew prisoner whose plan she'd seized onto as her potential salvation. His eyes met hers for just a fraction of a second and that was the extent of it: Gret averted her stare, looked toward the ground, ignored the dull business talk of the adjutant as they passed inside the building and headed to Dannecker's office.

It was a large, well-appointed office, yet she hated it, everything it had come to represent, especially the ornate wooden desk. She could tell from the furtive glances he cast her now and then that he was thinking similar things and probably would have loved nothing more than to indulge right then, but his adjutant was still talking, and the kapo stood at the back of the room with his head lowered respectfully. "This is really that important...?" Dannecker asked just as Gret came out of her thoughts; when the adjutant nodded a bit meekly (Dannecker's temper was well known everywhere, Gret mused), he sighed and stepped away from his desk. "Have to take care of a little business first, dear Gret, then we can go on our tour, ja?" She nodded. "Schindel will get you anything you need." He gestured and he and the adjutant left the office, the door going almost shut behind them.

The room grew quiet although she could hear distant voices in other parts of the building. "There is anything you want, Fräulein...?" someone asked softly, and she glanced up to see the kapo peering at her. She shook her head.

"Nein, danke, Herr Schindel."

He bobbed his head, shifted his gaze to the side, said nothing else. Gret tried not to think about the camp too much but the position of the kapo had always struck her in particular, someone having to do such odious things, and feign that everything was fine, just to survive. It seemed far too familiar. She didn't doubt he'd been on the receiving end of her stepfather's torments more than once, though there was no way she could speak to him about it.

Although it made her feel ill at ease, she went to sit in Dannecker's chair; she kept herself perched on the edge of it and tried not to think too much about him sitting in it. Everything in the office seemed to have a hidden connotation that made her insides clench unpleasantly, even some of the decorative items on the shelves. Oddly, the only neutral thing was the room just off the office, behind his desk; she knew this was meant as his personal quarters, where he was intended to sleep and easily be called on if there were any trouble in the camp, yet it was mostly empty, devoid even of a bed or cot, with just a few items for storage. It was dark and secluded and the perfect place for him to attack her savagely whenever he wished with no repercussions yet for some odd reason he never had. She suspected that the room was too private, too intended for that purpose, for him to get off on using it.

As if in response to her thoughts, the office door swung open and Gret jumped. Dannecker smiled and gestured; she obediently stood.

"Come now, pretty, we can take our tour." He glanced at Schindel. "We'll be looking around the camp for a while, maybe an hour or so. Let anyone who might stop by know that I'm not to be sought out or disturbed until I return, ja? Unless it's an emergency."

"Ja, Herr Kommandant."

"Let's go." Gret slipped silently out of the room as Schindel watched and she had the sudden dim wonder, did he know...? Did he suspect...? Dannecker looped his arm around hers and they headed up the hallway, footsteps echoing as they drew further away from all the business going on elsewhere in the building. She peered up at him, once only; he looked back down at her and gave that smile again, that smile that looked so kind and indulgent to anyone else who looked at him and saw a good father, but which to her was snakelike and menacing and reminded her of something far different from a good father. She didn't look at him again and as far as she could tell he didn't look at her, though she knew he must be thinking of all the prospects that were open right now, prospects that she was willingly walking into.

She briefly remembered her real father, who'd never been particularly attentive or doting toward her the way Dannecker was, yet he'd never done any of the other things her stepfather did, either. Although not especially loving or affectionate, her father had definitely been attentive to her mother, if the four living children, and several miscarried and one stillborn one, were any indication.

"Here we are, pretty Gret." Dannecker slowed his step, letting go of Gret's arm and reaching for his belt. She felt the tiniest twinge of panic even though all he did was remove a large keyring and approach a tapestry hanging on the wall before them. He nudged it aside and inserted a key into a hole that was barely visible; a dull thunk sounded when he turned it and then removed it. The hidden door was heavy and unwieldy, and he had to push at it with his shoulder to get it to obey; when it cracked open he gestured her forward. She slipped past him through the narrow space, trying to avoid touching though she brushed against the front of his uniform anyway; she felt her face grow hot and her insides twist again, but he didn't react, just pushed the large door shut and locked it again before returning the keyring to his belt. Another gesture, and they fell into step with each other, descending the slight slope into the passage. The air grew damp and cool the further they went; they approached the place where he'd first shoved her against the wall, and Gret felt her body start to shake, her heart thudding in her throat. Suddenly, the Jew prisoner's plan didn't seem worth it anymore; nothing was worth being down here again, alone with him, no one knowing where they were and no one able to hear them if they made any noise. She wished more than anything to be back on the surface, to just keep accepting him because at least that was more tolerable than being here. She fully expected him to notice her trembling, to deliberately misinterpret it, to offer that oily smile; yet the most surreptitious glance at his face showed he wasn't even looking at her, was staring at the passage ahead and seemed more pensive and distracted than anything.

Although she dreaded any sort of interaction with him--one could never tell what might set him off--she murmured meekly, "Something is wrong, Papa...?"

"Nein," Dannecker said. "Nothing for you to think about. Here..." He slowed to a stop, gesturing at the intersection at which they'd arrived, the passage continuing ahead but also left and right. "This way"--he gestured right--"is a dead end, a room with some storage at the end. This"--gesturing left--"leads under the west side of the yard. Ahead continues to the edge of the camp. Which way would you like to go?"

"A...ahead, Papa."

She peered at the darkness ahead, envisioning him dragging her within like some feral monster with her unable to see him. He reached up just after they stepped into the hallway and dim light surrounded them, from an old dingy bulb hanging from the ceiling. Gret let out a breath; this part of the tunnel was smaller, narrower, than before.

"You're nervous?" She nearly jumped, glancing up at him; she hadn't expected him to talk. "You're holding my arm rather tight," he added, and she hurried to loosen her grip, taking a step back for good measure, as she'd been almost pressed to his side. This bizarre muddle of actions and reactions--all of it stemming from a father who acted very little like a father--was bewildering. Although she'd never been close to her real father, she certainly longed for him now, to clutch his arm instead, have him protect her from the monster who was currently protecting her.

"S...sorry, Papa," she whispered.

Dannecker turned away, making a noncommittal noise. "Hold my arm all you like, there's nothing dangerous down here, though. Damp and mold and spiders is all."

You can scream and scream as much as you like... She made herself keep holding his arm, since he might get angry if she let go, though she kept her grasp loose. Something far more dangerous than a spider was down here, right here with her, yet Dannecker's voice and expression remained neutral, oddly disinterested.

So you can see Gret's confusion, longing for the protection of a distant, absent father, being protected by the very person she usually needs protecting from. She loves him, and she hates him. She doesn't take his honor sword merely as a trophy, a sign that he has no power or threat over her anymore. She also takes it as a reminder of his protection, literally using it to defend herself as he's no longer there to protect her from everything but himself. Yeah, it's confusing, as I imagine it'd be for anyone who's been victimized by someone they love and who's supposed to love them. It takes Gret a very long time to work through her feelings; it's easier to just shut them off most of the time. (This is the reason the other characters view her as cold and uppity--the man she later ends up with, Lukas Mettbach, at first refers to her as "Nazi b*tch," misinterpreting her aloofness and her similarities to her stepfather (she often dresses in black, wears shiny black boots, goosesteps a bit when she walks, and parrots Nazi tropes while collecting Nazi memorabilia) as blind devotion to him and his ideals.)

(All this is even further complicated by her mother, Else's, reaction when Gret tries to get in touch with her after the war. Else truly loved Dannecker, seeing him as having rescued her and her children from a potential life of poverty following her husband's death in combat; she has no idea how he never cared for her at all, frequently calling her a "fat old cow" behind her back. She's infuriated with Gret for taking her beloved Ernst away from her; she refuses to believe Gret's account of Dannecker's abuse, and even when Gret's brother Christof reveals to her that he himself witnessed it, she insists Gret must have seduced her stepfather. She disowns Gret, and dies never having forgiven her; ironically, the woman Dannecker admitted to Gret he could barely even stand to touch is the one person to really grieve for him when he's gone. Gret's two other siblings also pretty much turn their backs on her, making her doubt her own perceptions; only Christof, who helped her out after she escaped into the Diamond Network, shows her any sympathy.)

Dannecker went through a similar experience himself, with his mother, Margit. He, too, is very confused. This is the part of the story that emerged most recently and I touched on it in Isaak Schindel's entry.

Margit is married to Walther; they're a decent upper middle-class family, and she dotes on their lone child, Ernst. Ernst is a rather willowy, shrimpy kid, physically awkward and easily cowed, the sort who would get beaten up frequently under normal circumstances. The thing is that Ernst has a mean streak; it doesn't come out often, but it does peek its head out just enough for his classmates to leave him alone. He makes no friends, but then again he doesn't want any. He's cold and aloof and keeps to himself.

At home, his father is stiff and formal, a bit distant, but his mother lavishes him with love and attention. He's the center of her life. Walther finds her attention to him to be a bit offputting--he thinks Ernst needs to toughen up some--but he has no real reason to suspect anything's amiss, especially since Ernst doesn't respond much to Margit's affection. That changes one night when she visits his room at an awkward moment. He's embarrassed, but she tells him not to be, it's just natural. And maybe it is, but what she does afterward isn't.

I'm not sure of Ernst's age, but yes, he's underaged. And a one-time thing becomes an ongoing thing. The situation confuses him at first but his own mother says it's normal--she went through it with her father when she was young, and if Ernst ever has a daughter, she tells him, perhaps he'll do the same. So Margit's coming from a nasty background herself, and just continuing a cycle she was taught to normalize. And her son follows along, because it's his mother, of course she knows better than he does. They have to keep it secret from his father as she had to keep it secret from her mother, but that's just the way of things. Nobody else would understand the connection they share. (At least that's how Margit puts it.)

Ernst quickly latches on to the relationship with his mother in a way he never did before, seeming to become almost addicted to it. Margit sometimes has to coax him into calming himself down or being patient, he's so impulsive and starved for her attention. She sees the first hints of malice lurking beneath the surface whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's generally quite obedient to her, as long as she keeps a soft sweet placating demeanor and promises to reward him later on. For quite some time, this is how things go, until one day Walther catches them together.

Of course he's aghast--he knew something inappropriate was going on, just not THIS inappropriate. He starts yelling, Margit starts yelling--the only one not yelling is Ernst, who just watches the two screaming back and forth. It doesn't get through to him the exact import of his father's words: "How could you do this to him?--your own son!" Even through all his disgust, Walther rightly sees Ernst as a victim, but it's a thought neither of the others shares--they both fully believe they share some sort of sacred love. He finally yells for Ernst to get out and go to his room--Ernst refuses to go until Margit tells him to--and once he's there, Walther locks him in and keeps the key from Margit. After some further arguing he figures out this has been going on for years. He vows that this is the end of such "degenerate" behavior, and the next day they're going to address it head on. He goes to call somebody on the phone and makes some sort of arrangements; then pulls Margit away from Ernst's door, threatens her to knock it off, and orders her back to their room. He himself stays in the hallway and prevents her from heading to Ernst's room again. The rest of the night passes in this uneasy stalemate, but as soon as morning comes, Walther unlocks Ernst's room and orders him to wash up and pack--"A few changes of clothes, toiletries. Pack! Now!"

Walther's never been so livid, so Ernst obeys, while Margit hovers outside, begging to know what's going on. Walther refuses to answer, orders Ernst out to the car; Margit insists on going along, and Walther doesn't argue. He still doesn't answer any questions, either; though when he drives them to the railway station, the other two have figured out he means business.

Walther purchases a single one-way ticket, steers Ernst toward the platform, Margit on their heels, pleading. The train arrives not long after, and based on its next intended destination, Margit figures out where it must be headed. "The military academy?" she cries, and pleads with Walther--Ernst isn't made for military life, not her boy, he's no soldier. Indeed, though he's grown somewhat by now--he's about sixteen--Ernst is still shy and awkward and gangly, all arms and legs, and has never shown any militant propensities--he just wants to stay with his mother. Walther is undeterred, however: "Maybe there, they'll raise him right. Unlike in our house!" The train stops, the conductor opens the doors and starts calling for passengers; Walther grabs Ernst's arm and hauls him forward. Ernst finally protests, calling for Margit, and she calls him back, while still pleading with Walther; the three raise such a commotion that faces start peering curiously out the train car windows. When Ernst refuses to board the train, Walther first threatens to thrash him; then, when that doesn't work, he hisses, "If you don't get on now, I promise you you'll never see your mother again." That threat works; Ernst glowers, but takes his bag and ticket and gets on the train. The doors close and he hurries to the window to look out; Margit sees him, yells his name, runs after the train a bit as it starts to move, then collapses on the platform, sobbing.

Behind Ernst, one of the other teenage boys occupying the car murmurs, "Muttersöhnchen"--"Mama's boy." Everyone else chuckles. Ernst shoots the other boy a livid glare, but just as quickly looks back out the window, and doesn't stop until his mother is out of sight. The conductor arrives to ask for tickets, and everyone loses interest in joking; Ernst sits down at last to gloomily await his arrival at the academy.

Margit, meanwhile, is ordered back in the car--"If you don't get in, I'll leave you here," Walther vows--and they head home. From that point on, things are very strained. Margit refuses to even talk to her husband for a good long while, and when she does it's to rebuke him for abandoning "my boy." She definitely doesn't share a bed with him anymore. When a letter from Ernst arrives from the academy, Walther intercepts it, reads it, is infuriated all over again; even being away from home, Ernst's attitude toward his mother hasn't changed, and Margit's attitude hasn't changed, either. Walther tears the "vile" letter up and throws it away, though Margit manages to fetch it out, put it back together, and read her son's profession of his feelings for her. Walther manages to keep any other letters from getting through, so she doesn't get to hear from him for the next couple of years or so. And then, the Great War begins.

The dreadful news comes: Those at the military academy who are of age will be sent off to the Western Front. Margit doesn't even get the chance to see her Ernst one more time before he's sent off to fight. She breaks down sobbing, and spends the next several years in utter torment; Walther doesn't have to intercept letters anymore, as Ernst doesn't send any. The army sends no notice that anything's happened to Ernst, but this isn't much of a comfort to Margit, who slips into a deep depression. She largely ignores Walther, who sticks by her nonetheless; he still dimly hopes this is what's best for their son, though he hadn't counted on a war breaking out. He's admittedly anxious about Ernst, as well.

A letter at last arrives shortly before the armistice is declared: Ernst Dannecker has been wounded, but not seriously; he'll be coming home. The Danneckers arrive at the railway station to wait. Margit cranes her neck and anxiously watches everyone who disembarks, looking for her boy. It's only after most of the passengers have already gotten off that a young man climbs off with his bag, keeping his arm pressed close to his side; he doesn't really catch Margit's attention aside from the fact that he's wearing a military uniform. She looks at him until he finishes fiddling with his luggage, stands straight, then just happens to look in her direction--and freezes. The two of them stare at each other; Margit is confused, she was waiting for her gangly awkward boy, yet this is a tall, well-built man. But there's no mistaking those eyes, or the way he looks at her. It's been several years, after all. Of course her Ernst is all grown up now.

The three head home; Dannecker has a wound to his side but it isn't too bad. Nonetheless, his mother fawns over him, repeatedly exclaiming over how much he's changed--maybe serving in the army wasn't such a bad idea. Dannecker is both taller and more fit than his father now, and when the two of them look at each other, it's very awkward; Walther has to avert his eyes, as Dannecker can be intimidating with merely a glance, now. They sit for dinner, talk a little, then retire to the parlor for drinks, talk some more. After a while Walther starts to nod off, finally slumping in his chair, snoring. Margit catches Dannecker's attention--she's holding a little bottle. She slipped something in Walther's drink to knock him out. The two of them smile at each other, then leave the room together. All that time away in the military didn't change everything; Dannecker is still his mother's boy.

The two of them aren't as subtle about it as they used to be, mostly because Walther doesn't have much leverage over his son anymore--all Dannecker has to do is look at him and he realizes he stands no chance in a fight. He really has no choice but to put up with it. Dannecker, meanwhile, moves up in the world; when a paramilitary organization called the Schutzstaffel forms, it looks to be exactly what he's interested in; he resigns his military post to join, and is assigned to a camp as a guard. Margit proudly irons his new uniform and polishes all the shiny bits like a good obedient wife; Walther chafes but does nothing.

Dannecker quickly earns a reputation in the camp. He'd already told his mother of some of the things he did at the front, including his behavior toward the women; Margit finds it distasteful but obviously he did such things only because he had to, growing boys have needs after all. He seemed anxious that she'd be angry, yet she isn't. This is another peek at the darkness lurking beneath the surface, however, and his job in the camp just seems to bring it out even more. There's one especially nasty incident in which a Jewish prisoner, seeing Dannecker approaching, turns and runs straight at the fence, electrocuting himself; it turns out he'd had a run-in with Dannecker while they served at the front. It also turns out they'd had an interaction before that, when he'd so casually called Dannecker "mama's boy." Dannecker has a very long memory when it comes to perceived offenses, and is more than willing to act on them. Which puts his own father directly in his sights: Despite how well it may have turned out for him personally, he still resents Walther for separating him from Margit all those years. Walther has good reason to avert his eyes.

I'm not sure what it is, but one day something sets Walther off, makes him lose his temper; maybe he catches them together in his own bed. Whatever it is, he snaps and starts screaming at them like the first time, except this time he no longer considers Dannecker a victim--he's a rival now, going along with it willingly. Again, Dannecker refuses to leave when Walther yells at him to, and only a soft word from Margit makes him obey; he glowers at Walther as he passes, a glare much like the one he gave the young man who called him "mama's boy." Walther ignores the implication, and continues arguing with Margit; this is it, he insists--Dannecker will have to move out. When Margit says she'll simply go along with him, Walther replies, well then, he's going to make a call tomorrow, and inform Dannecker's superior officers of exactly what's going on. Given the SS and their rules and regulations, there's no way they'll permit such "degenerate" behavior to continue unchecked--Dannecker will surely lose his position in the SS-Totenkopfverbände, and face possible punishment, as well. Margit has no response for this, as she knows it's true; Walther says he's going to sleep on the couch, and they'll pick this up in the morning. He exits, and Margit sits in the bed crying until she falls asleep.

Walther doesn't know that after he left the room, Dannecker didn't retreat to his own bedroom as he did when he was a boy; he listened to the entire conversation. After Walther falls asleep on the couch, he slips into the room silently and approaches. Walther wakes abruptly when Dannecker makes a small sound, and blinks up at his silhouette in the dimness, mumbling, "Ernst?"--right before Dannecker shoves a pillow down over his face. Walther fights back as much as he's able, but his own son is a lot stronger than he is now, thanks to all that training Walther sent him off to, and it isn't long before his motions grow weaker and slower and then he falls still, going limp. Dannecker continues pressing the pillow over his face for a few moments more until he's sure the job is done--like I said, he's very patient when he sets his eyes on a target--then he carefully lifts it and sets it aside, damp side hidden. He closes Walther's eyes, repositions his sprawled limbs, and draws the blanket back up to look like he's still merely sleeping, before heading back to his own room. He falls asleep easily.

Early in the morning, Margit wakes, gets out his uniform, iron and shine, makes him a quick breakfast. Glances at her husband still sleeping on the couch but doesn't disturb him as she doesn't want to deal with him right now. Dannecker gives her a small kiss before he leaves--they look and act just like mother and son, nothing untoward, though once he's gone she agonizes over what they're going to do next. She can't bear to be separated from her boy, yet she can't endanger his job. She grows more anxious as the morning goes on, no solutions coming to mind; all she can think of is divorce, though Walther is unlikely to let her go without a fight. It finally occurs to her that it's almost noon and he hasn't awakened yet; she at last goes to rouse him, steeling herself for an altercation. He doesn't respond to her voice, not even to her gently shaking his arm; growing concerned, she tries to turn him toward her. Then gasps and recoils--his skin is cold, eyes half closed, mouth slack, a bluish tinge to his lips. Margit shrieks and heads for the phone--she tells the operator to call the camp, and begs to speak with Dannecker. When he's at last put on the phone he has to order her to calm down, she's grown so hysterical. She manages to tell him she's found Walther no longer breathing--apparently a heart attack, she has no other idea what to think--and she needs Dannecker there. He promises to come as soon as he can, and ends the call. Margit takes a moment to try to settle herself before it occurs to her how calm Dannecker himself was throughout the exchange, not raising his voice even once as she cried and babbled over the phone; something compels her to go look at Walther again. She can hardly bear it, yet she looks him over without touching him--nothing amiss--but she notices the pillow sitting against the back of the couch, atop Walther's leg--something about it seems off. She gingerly picks it up, turns it over. The other side is damp. Margit immediately drops it back where she found it, full of dread. She tries to tell herself it can't be what it's starting to look like.

Dannecker arrives with an SS doctor in tow; he looks Walther over, confirms his death (obviously), but seems puzzled when Margit suggests a heart attack; she admits he has no history of heart issues, yet what else could it be? The physician replies that Walther's eyes have tiny hemorrhages in them: a sign of suffocation. The dread rises even higher in Margit's breast; yet the doctor says perhaps he choked on something in his sleep, and calls a team to collect Walther's body and take him away for autopsy. He expresses his condolences and they all depart, leaving Dannecker and Margit behind.

Dannecker comforts Margit as she cries and remembers how poor her last exchange with Walther was; the comments he makes in response start out sympathetic, but slowly grow more resentful. Margit picks up on this and the dread seeps back; when Dannecker outright says, "He asked for this, keeping you away from me," Margit looks up at him and finally whispers, "Ernst...don't tell me you...?" He doesn't even deny it, just repeats that Walther was the one keeping them apart, of course he had to act. He seems genuinely confused when Margit reacts with horror--"Ernst! He's your father! I didn't mean THAT [you should kill him]...!"--though the more she protests that she didn't want him to do this, the more the perplexed look on his face changes; his eyes grow dark, his mouth turns down. The ugly malice just under the surface peeks out--this time, it's directed right at her. And for the first time, Margit is afraid of her own son, as she knows exactly what he's capable of--he told her himself. As horrifying as his own actions are, as much as she didn't want him to do this, she realizes she can't afford to cross him as he could do the same to her. She immediately changes tack, brings out her soft sweet placating voice, touching his arm and pressing close and calling him her boy, promising that they'll stick to the story Walther must have choked in his sleep and they're the proper mourning wife and son. Anything to protect his position. She's terrified of getting on his bad side, but just as when he was a teenager, the tactic works; the malice fades from his eyes, the tension leaves his muscles, slowly her sweet loving boy returns. He agrees to go along with her plan.

Margit now knows exactly where she stands: Dannecker can, and will, turn on her as quickly and easily as he's turned on everyone else who's wronged him, if she sets him off. He won't give her a pass simply because she's his mother and his lover. This is something she never counted on dealing with; she's never come across anything like this. She knows there's something fundamentally wrong and broken inside "her sweet boy" and no amount of her love and affection, however twisted, can fix it. She's walking through a field of landmines same as everyone else, and she acts accordingly, being extra careful to remain in Dannecker's good graces. She likely won't get any second chance.

Fortunately for Margit, she's good at what she does. She and Dannecker convincingly play the roles of devoted wife and son in grieving; Walther's death is perfunctorily investigated by the Allgemeine-SS, then the file is quietly closed and life goes on. Dannecker and Margit continue living in the same house and now freely share each other's bed. (They aren't aware that the Allgemeine-SS never COMPLETELY shuts down its observation--they've picked up that something is off, but don't have enough to act on, and their chief, Col. Heidenreich, advises them to tread softly to avoid a scandal.) Margit continues keeping house as if tending to her husband, even while gently prodding Dannecker once in a while that he should look into starting a family of his own, as the SS requires. Dannecker resists the advice--she's all he wants, there is nobody else. And it's true--he's never cared about anyone else in his life but her. It isn't love the way normal people feel it, but it's the closest his broken psyche can experience, and he feels it only for her. He doesn't want to get married, to be with any other woman, to start a family, if it isn't with her. Margit knows this is impossible--she never had a family with her father, for example--yet is sure not to push too hard lest she set him off. There's plenty of time to change his mind.

Except, as it turns out, there isn't. I think this occurs shortly before Dannecker is promoted and sent to watch over his own camp, though I'm not 100% sure. Margit faints one day and falls while Dannecker is at work; he nearly panics when he returns home and finds her on the floor. She insists she's all right, just tired--she's been fatigued lately--but with this, and the nasty bruise she's suffered, he doesn't even need convincing, he calls a physician. Margit is taken to hospital for tests and observation. After a while, a doctor appears with a sorrowful look and bad news: Blood cancer. This is the late 1930s/early 1940s; there's no effective treatment for leukemia yet. No matter how much Dannecker protests, and then threatens, that they need to try more, there's nothing much they can do, aside from trying to keep her comfortable and manage her symptoms. Dannecker's not used to his demands being refused; Margit has to calm him down so he doesn't target the doctor. She tries to keep her head for her son's sake, though when they're alone she fights not to break down, crying, "I'm afraid, Ernst." Although obviously just as rattled by this news, he comforts her again, promising to stay by her no matter what--she's his mother, his love, after all.

Margit rapidly declines; the disease is fast acting, aggressive. The morphine keeps her in a stupor much of the time, during which Dannecker forces himself to return to work, though when she wakes he's there to hold her hand and stroke her hair. The hospital staff take note of their odd closeness, but say nothing. One day in a moment of painful lucidity, Margit finally does break down: "I can't bear you seeing me like this, Ernst. I don't want your last thought of me being a shriveled little shell in this bed. I want you remembering me how I was." Dannecker insists he doesn't care how she looks, but she grows more and more adamant; she doesn't want to go this way. And then, meekly, she broaches the subject: "My Ernst, isn't there...isn't there something you can do...?"

This is Nazi Germany, and Dannecker is in the SS. He works in a camp. The Nazis have ways of dealing with people they deem a burden on society, "life unworthy of life"--and among these are the physically infirm, the terminally ill. People like Margit. Euthanasia, as it's so optimistically called, is legal. Dannecker knows immediately what his mother is asking of him as he's helped oversee the termination of countless unworthy lives himself. He pales, then grips Margit's hands harder and insists, "Mama, you don't mean it. That's just your sadness talking. There are other things we can do." She insists, though--the doctors have said there are no other options, and she doesn't want to suffer to the very end: "Bitte, my Ernst, you can't let me, you must be able to help me." She grows more strident and despondent the more he tries to talk her out of it and at last he realizes there will be no changing her mind; for once she stands firm against his pleas. And eventually he stops arguing. She can tell from the look on his face that her decision crushes him inside yet he calls the doctor back to consult with him.

The doctor comes to talk with the two. Margit knows of the SS's euthanasia programs but something she ISN'T aware of is the exact method used--what the Nazis call "euthanasia" isn't really a "good death" at all for most people. So no, Dannecker can't offer her this option himself, unless she wants to go in the gas chamber. The doctor is sympathetic and suggests a drug overdose--done properly it'll be like drifting to sleep. Margit jumps at the idea; Dannecker isn't happy, but doesn't object. After making absolutely sure this is what she wants, and having her sign the proper forms with Dannecker as witness, he brings in the proper equipment and administers the drug, then retreats a bit so Dannecker and Margit can sit together and wait. The two stare at each other while Dannecker clasps Margit's hand and she strokes his face, smiling and murmuring, "My sweet boy." Her voice and motions start to slow down though she does manage to tell him, "I'll always be there for you...I'll never leave you," before her eyes drift closed and she dozes off. After a little while longer, her breathing stops. Dannecker puts his head to her chest but can't hear anything; the doctor returns to check her vitals, finds that her pulse has stopped. He tells Dannecker the news though it's obvious already. Dannecker just stares mutely at his mother, his eyes wet. It's probably the first and only time he's ever cried over anyone.

Life goes on, though it's dull and tedious with an empty bed and no one there to greet him when he returns home, no one who "gets" him the way only Margit did. He gets a shiny new post as commandant of his own labor camp and moves into a nice big house nearby but even that doesn't do much to assuage the hurt, which is a really strange emotion he's not used to feeling. Then while walking down the sidewalk one day, in a bit of a hurry, he rounds a corner without watching where he's going and slams into somebody else who's also walking too fast and not watching where they're going. The other person drops their grocery bag; Dannecker drops, period, losing his balance and hitting the ground. He angrily snaps, "Watch where you're--!" before his eyes lock on somebody standing several feet away--a young girl, petite, in a long dress, with long blond braids and big blue eyes. The two of them stare at each other in silence as the woman Dannecker had run into hurries to pick up his own scattered items and help him up, apologizing profusely. A few other children, two boys and a younger girl, also stand to the side, but it's the oldest one Dannecker can't stop staring at. She's the spitting image of a much younger version of his mother.

He finally notices the older, frumpier woman trying to assist and placate him--obviously his SS uniform has her rattled, and she's terribly apologetic, taking the blame for his fall, retrieving his belongings before seeing to her own. He pushes himself up, dusts himself off, takes back his papers, grumbles for her to watch where she's going from now on; she thanks him repeatedly for his leniency, collects her scattered groceries, urges her children to come along now, she's so sorry, so sorry. Dannecker and the teenaged girl continue staring at each other as the little family passes by. She even glances back at him while they're walking off before turning away. Dannecker can't stop staring after her. He's distracted all that day, returns home at night, lies in bed staring at the ceiling. Murmurs softly, "Is it a sign? Is it you...?" He's not religious or spiritual whatsoever...but those braids, those eyes, that face. Margit had promised she'd never leave him. Is this her? Has she come back to him? He knows that was not literally his mother...but just maybe, his mother sent her to him. It must be a sign.

Dannecker has connections, and he's patient and perseverant. He does some asking around, some digging. Finds out the frumpy woman's name is Else, and her older daughter's name is Margarethe. "Margarethe," Dannecker whispers to himself; even her name is like his mother's. This is all the proof he needs that the two of them are meant to be. Margit had told him, after all, that one day he should have his own family, and hopefully his own daughter, to carry on what Margit had taught him and what her father had taught her. He's never been interested in starting a family, yet here is one ready made for him. He has a new pet project. When he learns Else is a widow, he starts making his plans to win her over. He's not interested in her in the least--Gret is the one his heart is set on. He's willing to do whatever it takes to get her, and eventually, he does.

Here's Dannecker's entry, somewhat outdated but the rest of his story. Here's Gret's.

Dannecker fulfills his mother's vow that the cycle of abuse would continue with him as the perpetrator and Gret as the next in a line of victims, including himself and Margit, that goes back who even knows how far. Gret, however, finishes the cycle, by participating in his murder--the abuse ends with her. It's a bit ironic, though, that she DOES repeat her stepfather's behavior: He murdered his own father as well. So although she manages to break free of the abuse itself, she doesn't ENTIRELY free herself of his influence over her. She carries his sword as a weapon of defense...but it's still also a symbol of the man who should have protected her unconditionally, yet ended up hurting her most of all.

[Margit Dannecker 2023 [‎Friday, ‎February ‎17, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:10 AM]]

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

[toji-bunny-girl]

Why you married the BNHA boys and divorced them on your wedding night 

Tags: Smut, crack, angst

Midoriya Izuku

He’s literally the sweetest little bean that you can’t wait to have a family with…but also tried to finger you while reading off of a website on google teaching people how to have sex with a woman AND it wrote ‘bite their clit gently’, he doesn’t know how gently he needs to be 😬😬😬😬

Bakugou Katsuki

He was hot and rich and sweet although he tries to hide how much he cared…then on your wedding night you planned to drink wine and have a good long love-making but he slept at 9 pm sharp and was snoring so loud the wine glasses broke 😐

Todoroki Shoto

He was the perfect guy any person would want and you were ecstatic on the day the two of you becomes a married couple…until the wedding night where he tells you there’s no way he’s having kids because of his childhood trauma and he wore three layers of protections just in case 😐

Kirishima Ejirou

He was the exact meaning of a gentleman and you felt like a real princess when you were marrying each other…skip to when the he’s slipping into you and activated his quirk to be ‘extra hard’; needless to say your cunt was bleeding and his cock was literally rock hard 😭😭

Kaminari Denki

You thought he was your soulmate, funny and just your best friend turned lover...later on while you were giving him a blowjob, he couldn’t stop making deez nuts jokes; like, you were actually thinking that you could be intimate on your first night but he CANNOT stop meme-ing and joking around that you told him you were going to get milk from the store (and never returned)

Iida Tenya

You loved an earnest and respectful man for yourself and lucky for you, he was the one...but little did you know he’s also one who read off of a guide book on how to have sex on your first times. And when you got a single step wrong, he’s lecturing you like a teacher but you held it off, until you were moaning for him to go faster and he decided to use his stupid recipro burst or something and rammed into you so hard your body hit the wall and you passed out, also leaving a huge crack on the wall. 

Amajiki Tamaki

Another shy little bean that you fell in love with but it took him 8 years to finally propose because he was so shy but that’s fine...and you’re starting to think he doesn’t love you when he couldn’t get his dick hard because he was just too shy, he only got it hard after an hour and you’ve already fallen asleep. And you woke up to see him jerking off in front of your face at 2 am 😶.

Hawks - Takami Keigo

The process of arranging the whole wedding with the handsome hero was fun and all but after the wedding reception, you couldn't wait to have him all to yourself...until he got so excited and horny he forgot human language and chirped and tried to beak your face in the middle of the act until the end of it. You’re now traumatised and scream when you hear a bird. 

Shigaraki Tomura

Girl, idek why you decided to marry his crusty ass but it’s a huge mistake...this virgin bastard literally tried choking you like he saw in porn and he forgot his quirk for a sec because a vag just felt so good and he dusted you. You died having a literal man child drooling on you with his dry af fingers on your neck 🤤🤪

Dabi

He told you his dad was Endeavour, number 1 hero, so you thought he was rich...and he deadass brought you to the back alley with rats as witness for your first night with him. He also smells like trash and tried to blame it on the back alley trashcans 🤮🤮

Aizawa Shota

One word, sexy majestic beast of a man and you thought you were lucky to get to be his wife...but you never notice how dedicated he was to his students and Eri until he had to change Eri’s diaper because she shitted her pants or something and had to bring his students back to the dorm when they sneaked out and were caught at 3 in the morning that he doesn’t even have time for you 😕

© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

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[cinnamonest]

Albedo idol girl darling thoughts M A N I F E S T E D

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Well, to be entirely honest, he thinks the whole idol thing is a little dumb.

For someone like him, at least. He's a PhD student in his final semester, lots of work to be done and all that. So, you know, he's a responsible, accomplished adult. Not the kind of person who gets into "that stuff," as he calls it in his head.

Nor does he even know how he encountered it... He just takes the occasional break from work to mindlessly open whatever app first pops into his vision and scroll through the feed. He's never watched anything like it in his life, so he's not exactly sure why he gets recommended some idol girl thing, and even less sure why he taps it without really thinking. Probably one of those videos that gets recommended to everyone. Well, can't be that, it doesn't have that many views... Probably loosely connected to some video game he's searched before or something. He's familiar with idols and what they are, and the subculture surrounding them, but he's never really cared about it.

Honestly, it's kinda pathetic that a bunch of grown adult men get so obsessed over these girls, he thinks as he watches. He's seen the type. Lonely, asocial dudes, most definitely virgins whose only female attention in their entire life is their mother, well into adulthood with no real social group to speak of.

...Not that he's much better off, but he hasn't quite sunk down to their level. The only reason he doesn't talk to people much is because they're busy, and he's even busier. He managed to make a few friends in undergrad years. Well, study partners who mooched off his notes since he was one of the top students, but same idea. They were people he spoke to more than once, which is what constitutes a friend, right? And for the record, one time in high school a girl in his class said she liked his hair. He hasn't changed the way he wears it since. Whenever he's sad, he thinks about that compliment from 10+ years ago, and it makes him feel a little better. But now, he's constantly slammed with work and research.

And his acquaintances are also all busy. He sees notifications every now and then from social media he never checks. Everyone is getting married at this stage in life, both friends and even other PhD students in his department. Not that he's ever been invited to a wedding, he just overhears a lot of conversations, sees notifications of posts. And he will too, eventually. He just has to finish up his degree, and then... Meet a girl. Well, that's actually the second step, step one would be finding out how to go about meeting a girl. He's... Never done it before. Probably does not happen sitting in the research lab at 11:30 pm on YouTube. He's talked to one of the other PhD students who's a girl before. And only stutters sometimes. He was even able to look her in the face while he talked to her once. That's a good start.

Ok, so maybe he is a little bit pathetic, but not as bad as... These guys. Reading the comments of the video actually make him feel a little better about himself, because frankly, they're kinda wild. The worship and fawning over girls is one thing, but they even have timestamps referring to various members like "she's super cute here!" Or "you can kinda see her thigh at 3:12!" Etc etc. Yeesh, creepy. And they get into comment fights over who is the best member, as if it even matters. It's fascinating in a human-social-experiment sort of way, the manifestation of a subculture and how humans interact with each other. On and on it goes, hundreds of commenters. He pays more attention to the comments than the actual video, but the song is kinda catchy in that annoying sort of way, and the girls are cute, just kinda... The typical thing he'd expect from idol groups. But the building will close soon, so he taps back to home screen and swipes the app closed.

Unfortunately, the algorithm remembers.

And he's not certain why he clicks the next one either, the following day. The lunch breaks he takes are usually pretty rushed. Not that he has specific class times at his level of academia, but he likes to get his work done. He intentionally eats either a bit later or earlier than the lunch crowd to avoid crowds and interactions. Finds a nice secluded little table tucked away. So when he opens it back up, what do you know, several more videos get recommended. It's absent minded when he taps on one, the kind of numb-brained entertainment every modern person indulges in, videos you wouldn't really be interested in but just watch because they're there.

Ok, this is really creepy. These dudes have made compilation videos of close ups of each specific girl. It's the same group as the video he saw before, same little lewd costumes. Admittedly the girls are kinda cute. He can kinda understand the appeal. But he's not like those guys, he would never become like, obsessed with them.

The song is actually really catchy. The kind of mindlessly addictive, repetitive pop music that's the same four chords over and over, each song is so similar you can't really tell them apart, but it gets stuck in your head anyway. This group has... nine members. Who needs that many singers in one group? It's not like a band or anything, they all just sing and do their little choreography. Guess that's a form of talent, even though he doesn't really get it.

Some of the groups he sees in recommended videos are cute and wholesome, and while this group is cute too, there's a very... Blatantly intentional lewdness to their poses and costumes. A hypersexualized sort of cuteness. Clearly marketed at lonely losers who have nothing better to do with their time than obsess over a girl who will never even know they exist.

He taps another video.

So many compilations, yikes. He has to give the guys credit, they're insanely loyal to the individual member that they decide to fixate on. Oh, and they even make official figurines and posters for these girls, that's... Something.

And a few days later he can kinda recognize the girls. They have color themes, you know, identical costumes except each girl's is a different color. This lead one is red, this main backup is blue, etc etc. Lots of bright colors. Kinda hurts his eyes to be honest.

And he's seen compilations of every girl except... The pink one. The pink one is always kinda off to the side. Well, these groups do have their favoritism, there's apparently one or two lead singers in all of the major idol groups, and the rest are basically backups and dancers. Still, a lot of dudes get super devoted to the non-main girls. So yeah, he's never seen a compilation for the pink one... He can't always exactly remember which one is which but now he's seen enough to know the other girls' names. He's not sure what hers is though. So he googles it and gets the name.

Wonder why she doesn't have as many videos...? Oh, it's because she's the newest member. Only been around a few months. There's... A whole board dedicated to the group, which he's getting this information from. Wow, pathetic. What kind of person spends their free time browsing a forum for an idol group? Well, he's just doing it to find information, not for fun or anything. He was just curious. Now he knows and he can forget about it and never look at anything related to them again... after he types her name and group name into the YouTube search bar and checks the results out, that is.

Oh, so they do have some compilations for her, just not many. "(Name) thigh compilation." Fuck, these people have no limits to how creepy and pathetic they can get, he thinks... as he watches the video. Ok, admittedly there are some good thigh shots there. There's a comment. "At 4:26 you can see her panties." Pathetic. They're not wrong though. Just to be sure, you see, he tapped the timestamp, and you can, in fact, see them. Stripes. Cute.

But he still has to do his work. Can't get too invested in watching mindless videos all day. He's got a thesis to work on.

That makes him curious, though, he thinks as he goes about his research. Do these girls go to school? Do they like, skip college, or do they join some kind of performing arts school or...? So he googles it. He can remember the pink one's name now, so he just finds her Wikipedia page. Oh, so she joined right out of high school and has been in various groups ever since.

Wait, various groups? So she has more groups she's been in? What are those? Before he typed her name into the search along with the group name, but if he just searches her name he gets... A lot more content from earlier years. Huh. Didn't know some of them did group-hopping like that.

Still, no education. Must be all smiles and body and no brains. Guess that's all you really need. Yeah, looking at that whole act they do... All giggly and childish and lewd... She's probably not too bright. At least she's pretty and sings nice. And the thighs are rather good. Smooth looking. They have a sort of jiggle when she jumps up and down on stage. The thigh highs they make those girls wear have that nice little dip where the skin is compressed by the fabric. Like... right there at that closeup. He takes a screenshot.

It's readily available, he's already seen the video and knows the best parts, whereas searching for porn would take time. The sooner he can get the daily stress relief out of the way the sooner he can work on his thesis. So this way is faster. That's why he's jerking off to the thigh video and not taking the time to look for porn. Plus, it makes him cum faster. Which it probably shouldn't since it's just thighs, but... Probably has something to do with the tease of it all maybe. That makes sense.

Or maybe it's that cute little giggle he can hear at some parts. She smiles and jumps and spins and laughs.

...It makes him wonder what she'd look like crying. Scared. Whimpering. Covered in bruises and bite marks. The contrast between that state and the one on the screen. The process and the things he could do to get her from one to the other. Yeah, he realizes, it's that thought, rather than the happy giggling on video or tease aspect, that makes him cum.

He's aware that his... tastes... are a little on the fucked up side, but hey, there's plenty of bastards out there far worse than him.

One day he discovers she has social media platforms. He... Doesn't really have any. He doesn't have Twitter or Instagram or any of that but... He downloads the app and makes an account for each. Just to follow her. Ooh, they even have the option to get a notification every time she posts... That's good. Otherwise he might check too frequently. He sets a special sound effect for notifications for her socials. The first few times, you see, he would get super excited when his phone went off, only to be disappointed when it was just a work email. Thus, he made the separate sounds.

He wouldn't say he has a favorite, that sounds really cringey you know? He just... Likes her more than the others. ...Dammit, that's what a favorite is. Ok, maybe he has a favorite, that's not that bad. He's not obsessed. He hasn't bought any merchandise at all or anything, especially not member-specific merchandise. Which they do have, because he visited the store page for a while and spent all his willpower physically restraining himself from buying something. It's not that he's biased, he just thinks she's objectively better than the rest of the group. Which can be backed up with evidence, anyone with eyes could tell by watching the performances.

As to what specifically draws him to her... he's not certain, to be honest. Maybe it's because she's the least appreciated out of the group, new and all. The less popular one. Or maybe her personality... She seems so sweet, even though he knows it's probably just an act for the fans. Or maybe just those thighs. That's also a valid possibility.

He cracks and buys some of the merchandise. Only about $300 worth. But honestly, he gets more invested into just printing out pictures of you. Pasting them onto the wall above his desktop. It keeps him going when the nights are hard.

But he refrains from ever commenting on anything. Some of these losers are just... so embarrassing, he can't stomach the thought of being associated, even if it's just an anonymous comment online. It's still pretty... Distasteful. He still browses the boards every day. You're his lock screen now. And home screen. And also your solo is his ringtone. He only sets his phone on sound when he's alone at home, though, when he's at work he puts it on vibrate. He... doesn't want anyone hearing that. No offense. He has some appropriate amount of shame, unlike the other bastards.

And the girls probably know that most of their fans are these kind of loser men, right? She'd probably be surprised someone nearly graduating with a chemistry doctorate is sitting around watching these dumb videos. Is that more or less pathetic? He thinks less, hopefully.

In fact, the other fans kind of irritate him. They're really cringy and annoying and it gives him secondhand embarrassment. And something... Deeper. Something about seeing the comments upsets him on a visceral level. It's gross. Sure, he's grateful for the dudes who sit around and make a list of timestamps for upskirt shots and the like, but... It kinda bothers him, feeling like there's some other dude out there sitting around, watching these long videos with his gross eyes and recording the times of shots that get him off. It feels gross. But more like... A violation against you. Sure, your group is very blatantly sexualized and intentionally risque in clothing but... Still, it feels wrong for someone to go through and get to see all of that.

Well, someone else. It's ok for him, since he's not a gross degenerate like the rest of them. He does genuinely see himself as... Above them. You know how like, back in the day, how the nobles used to sit around and watch plays from the far back while the peasants gathered around the stage? It's like that. He's not a gross loser or a NEET or anything like that. He's got a life. Well... Not a social life, but he's doing better than them, at least he has a degree, and soon a higher degree, and a job. He has a lot of things they don't. Basic hygiene. Student loan debt. And uh... Well, he's probably more pleasant to interact with, at least he's not gonna be frothing at the mouth like an animal if he saw you in real life. He would certainly freeze up, but that's preferable, isn't it?

And one day there's a video circulating in the idol community - not that he's a part of it or anything, he just keeps getting the dumb videos and watching them for mindless entertainment - where some girl group had an attempted kidnapping. Not her group, but some other group. The video has gone viral. Some dude tried to rush the stage and pull one of the girls away. Apparently the cops found he had an obsession with her.

What an idiot. If you're gonna kidnap someone, put some effort in, jeez. It's not hard to figure out how to do it right.

If that were him, he wouldn't be that stupid, he'd just look for an interval where she's alone. They have those solo or breakout group songs where some of the girls are backstage, just get her then. Memorize the concert schedule, wear something over your face, chloroform her, and stuff her into something and walk right out. Easy.

....

He catches himself in the thought and realizes that might have been a bit creepy, but he was just thinking in terms of hypotheticals. If he was the kind of crazy to do that, that's what he'd do, that's all.

He's always enjoyed entertaining strategic thoughts, really. He's had a couple fantasies about how he would commit murders of this or that person before, and he's never murdered anyone, so thoughts don't lead to actions. He just... Really doesn't like those people, and the fantasies help him... Deal with it. He just likes to strategize about methods, and how he'd get away with it... Stuff like that. Actually, he's convinced it's a very normal thing, but no one wants to admit it. Everyone has detailed murder fantasies every now and then.

Which is why this is no different. He's just strategizing because it's fun. He has no intentions of doing anything for real. He just plans out the details like a game. And tells himself to just never think about it again.

Until one specific night that he's staring down at his screen. Lying in bed. He should be asleep, he needs to be up early tomorrow but... He's just checking to be sure he's reading this correctly. You're coming to his town? He wouldn't think so, since it's not too big, just your average college town. But still, you'll be right here, right in his general vicinity, not far away at all.

Not that he'd ever actually go to such an event. No way. He hates crowds with a passion. He hates loud environments even more. A concert is like his worst nightmare. Besides, knowing the general audience of your group, it'll be a bunch of sweaty NEET dudes who haven't showered in a month and haven't crawled out of their house in even longer. No thank you.

But.

That's when the thought pops back up. It's been a few months since that night he had that strategizing fantasy, and, well, he tried to forget it but... It kinda lingered in the back of his mind. And now it's back in full force.

He shrugs the idea off. It's crazy. He'd never actually do something like that. It was just a fantasy.

...But he could get away with it if he wanted to.

He's not scared or anything, no, he's confident in his strategizing. He knows he could. Totally. It's foolproof. There's no need to carry it out to know that, besides, what would he even do with you?

Well, he's pretty certain he does know what he would do with you. He's watched that thigh video maybe a hundred times now. And even if he won't admit it, he's jerked off to the exact same fantasy for like, several months.

He doesn't really... Think about it. Just kind of slips into subconscious actions. Autopilot. One click and well, there goes $400 on an amp case. His eyes gaze over the dimensions... And then there's your height on the Wikipedia page... Yeah... That should work. He gets it sent to the address a few doors down just in case, and snatches it from in front of their door, but he finds himself backpedaling. What the hell is he doing? He would never actually go through with this, what a waste of money... But he still opens it. Sets it beside his front door. Tests the wheels to make sure they work.

He knows how to make chloroform. He doesn't need YouTube tutorials (unlike a certain someone else), he knows exactly how to do it, even alternate methods besides the usual acetone and bleach combination - so long as you end up with the same chemical makeup, it's all the same. He just goes with the traditional way though... Doesn't really know why he does it. Just mutters as he stares down at the concoction wondering why he wasted his time... But he pauses before pouring it down the sink, and instead puts it in a container and keeps it on the counter. Your weight is on Wikipedia too. Taking into account your height and weight you would need about... Yeah, a very specific amount to knock you out for about three hours.

The concert day draws closer and closer and he can't sleep very well. His mind keeps running what-ifs. Just, hypothetically, what if he did go through with it? What then? What would he do long term? How would that all work out?

Well, you'd probably hate him for a while, right? But that changes. Stockholm syndrome sets in. He would know, he had to take Psych 101 back in undergrad, and the professor talked about it for a full 10 minutes, so he's basically an expert. It's been like, 7 years since then, but he still kinda remembers it. He remembers that it's supposed to set in at about 2 weeks, and solidify with time. If the captor is nice, that is, which he totally would be. ...Maybe not in bed, but most of the time. He would be nice to you, and you would start to like him. Besides, they said Stockholm syndrome set in faster if the abductor has good qualities, so, he could also reason with you, remind you that you're lucky you got abducted by someone with money - or, well, he will have money once he graduates! - and isn't some ugly gross slob. He's clean and neat. Sorta... He'll clean up all those dishes that have been sitting there a few days now, pick up all those clothes off the floor... Ok, now he's clean and neat. And, uh, what else would girls care about... He's smart. He's pretty sure he can say that with confidence, if nothing else.

Ok, so, it would work. He could... Keep you kinda... Tied up here... If you started complying within that two week period, he could get you up and walking before atrophy set in. You'd probably have to get used to the lifestyle... Right now he's kinda on a budget, but, he can get you things to keep you occupied... And so, yeah, it could work. It's simple, just keep you with him and isolated for a few weeks and uh, you'll transform into some kind of hypersexual obedient cumslut and never want to leave. That's... How Stockholm syndrome works right? Maybe he should have paid more attention in that class... Oh well. He never liked psychology.

So the day draws nearer and nearer and he starts really getting into the right... Headspace. It's a sort of manic state that he's in. Operating without really thinking, all inhibitions removed by simply refusing to think about it. He lets the subconscious take over and do all these little things to prepare, until finally that day is tomorrow. And then he kinda snaps back to full awareness and questions, again, what the hell is he doing? He can't just... Kidnap a person! Normal people don't do that... It's illegal, he'll get caught, it'll ruin his life and....

What life does he really have to ruin?

That's the thought that sort of solidifies the decision. He realizes why he's even on this path in the first place. Sure he's got a lot of academic accomplishments, but his life is... Rather empty. He doesn't really have anyone. Maybe that's why he's slowly become... Consumed by this obsession that yes, he's now willing to admit to himself is indeed an obsession. It's kinda slowly taken over his everyday life without him even noticing it was happening. He's... Kinda miserable. And very lonely. And... If nothing else... This one girl makes him feel kinda happy.

... Which is why he's going to go through with it.

And he slips back into autopilot, ends up standing outside the building. It's every bit as loud and headache-inducing as he knew it would be. Ugh. He can't wait to get out of here. If this doesn't work, well, he'll be forced to turn around. The plan is a very simple one, actually... Act like he's supposed to be there. And he does. Dresses in all black like stage technicians do, dragging his big amp case behind him, holding a bunch of cords from random things he grabbed in his house, and tries not to look nervous, keeps a neutral face and walks straight forward and... He slides right in. The security guards off to the side don't even bat an eye.

And then he has a moment of "well, I didn't expect to get this far." Pauses. So uh... what now? Well, probably should find you first. He memorized the setlist, so he knows when you'll be off... And alone. Right now there should be three of the girls backstage. It's pretty easy to find where you are, but he's paranoid that the amp case is too loud as he's dragging it around. It's necessary, though. And then, finally, he stumbles upon the room... Opens the door, half expecting to be immediately stopped, but... He can just kinda waltz right in here, some open backroom, a person here or there coming through, a lady that looks like a makeup artist doing something over there, and an actual, real tech guy over there... And over to the far back corner... Oh. That's you. He takes a moment to revel in the sight, unable to move or even breathe, and has to mentally prepare himself before moving forward. He's... Not sure exactly what to do at this point... It's kind of perfect, to be honest, there's no one around you, and you're right out of sight, where he could turn the corner and not be seen. But he's not sure how to... Approach? He thinks about it as he walks, but again, autopilot is on in his brain and he's just numbly walking forward. Does he just... Keep walking until he's right at you and just... Or...?

And a miracle happens. You hear someone coming and you turn and smile and ask are you the tech guy here to fix my mic? You point to the little microphone attached to your face. They told you someone would be coming to fix it before your next song. You presume that's him, since he's dressed in all black like all the other stage techs. He hesitates a moment, wide eyed, but then nods. Yeah, that's him, he says. His voice cracks when he says it. It's kinda cute.

You smile at him. It's wide and sweet and genuine and it almost makes him pass out on the spot. He has to swallow for a second before continuing.

But, uh, he can't do it right here he says, because fiddling with it could disrupt the uh, frequencies, cause that really shrill sound you hear sometimes. So, um, come over this way a sec, over in this dark corner of the studio conveniently out of the view of all people and security cameras. You don't know how any of that stuff works, so you trust him, it's his job after all. So you get up and straighten your little skirt out - wow those are even more revealing in person - and walk over it the dark corner where he's waiting and... it's the last thing you remember.

He does a quick look left and right to ensure no one saw you collapse in his arms, but sure enough, this area is empty. You fit into the amp case with ease. Just curl your body up and pop the lid on. Wait, can you... breathe in there? Well, it won't take long to get outside. He just rolls the case right out the door, right past the guards again, and no one stops him, no one suspects a thing. Puts the case in the backseat, opens the lid, does a quick check go make sure you're breathing alright. So he props it open by keeping a book in between the case and lid as he drives home.

Once he does get home, he just does the same thing he did before - close the lid, roll you into the elevator and up the stairs and into his place, looking back over his shoulder over and over. And once he gets you inside he just kinda... falls to his knees. Shivering. Disbelief. Because holy shit he actually did it. He actually went through with it and it worked. He sits there and stares at the case and - oh, fuck, gotta open it again for you to breathe. Actually, he might as well... take you out... when he first shoved you in, he was so high on adrenaline he didn't really process any of it, but now... he almost can't bring himself to take you out. That means he has to, like, touch you. He's gotta take a moment to mentally prepare for that. So he does. Deep breaths. And finally, with trembling hands, pulls you out, carries you on shakey legs over to the bed and sets you down.

You know, you're a lot... Smaller... Than you looked on screen. Sure, he knew your height and weight but... somehow you still seem so much smaller than he expected. That's good. Will make everything a lot easier, since you're easier to restrain. And your thighs. They're... so soft. This is so much better than the video. They're so... fleshy and warm in person. Perfect. And wow, that skirt thing is... scratchy. Actually, up close, that whole outfit thing you wear looks super uncomfortable. It probably is. ...Well, guess he now has a reason to take it off.

The rest of your skin is... also fleshy and soft. Warm. Your face... chest... stomach... everything. Your tits are really cute, too. It occurs to him that all those rabid commenters on all those boards and videos would probably kill to be him right now, pinching and squeezing at your nipples. He's seeing something they will never see. It gives him an ego boost, to be honest, makes him feel proud to get a sort of one-up on them. He gets you naked, but refrains from pulling your legs apart. He probably... wouldn't be able to control himself, and he's aiming for some self-control right now.

So he waits. Breathes deep. Restrains himself with every ounce of willpower he has. It occurs to him he has no fucking clue what he's gonna say to you. Unfortunately, that thought occurs to him as you're starting to twitch and mumble, so, he doesn't have too much time to think. Oh, fuck, you're not restrained... well, he bought some duct tape and handcuffs and blindfolds off of amazon too, so he quickly puts those in place as you're starting to wake up, and then finally, you come to full consciousness -- that telltale jerking at the restraints, the muffled little cry of confusion and fear. It's kinda hot to be honest. Well, fuck, very hot actually. You're so scared. It gives him a rush of power. Said rush goes straight to his dick.

He's got a mixed twist of guilt and arousal at the whole thing, but... he's still trying to have some self control... and if you start begging and pleading and crying, it would be too much. Oh, no, not that it would be too much in terms of guilt, no no, just that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from fucking you if he sees you cry. So he leaves the restraints on for now, so he can't see your face emote.

Then, he does something really, really mean. He knows it's cruel, honestly, it's just... so cute. What that is, is that he does nothing. Says nothing. He goes about his work, typing away, knowing you can hear, but doesn't say a word. He knows you're awake, he just wants to see how long you can sit there scared out of your mind before you finally make another noise to draw his attention. Right now, he thinks, you're probably debating, you're probably questioning whether you should keep quiet and make him think you're still out or make a noise... but eventually you will. He can see you trembling. You're probably thinking so many horrible things right now, wondering what will happen, what he'll do to you... it fills him with a sort of sadistic glee that overrides the guilt it comes along with. Sure, the guilt is there, but fuck, he could almost cum just watching you shiver, and that's more important.

And you finally make a noise. A little whimper. He stops typing, and swears he sees you tense when he does. And when he stands up, walks over to you (making sure to stomp hard and walk slow for extra effect, watching the way you curl in on yourself with each step he takes), and stops right in front of you. Finally, tells you not to scream. He's gonna give you water, ok? You nod. And, surprisingly, you don't make any move to scream or anything, you let him give it to you. You don't move a muscle besides your shaking and sucking the straw and swallowing the water. You must be really scared of him. He knows that's technically not what he should want, but... it feels nice.

He spent that time of silence coming up with what to say to you. He says that for now, you're going to stay right here. Don't ask questions. Don't make any attempt to escape. If you really need something, tap the headboard until he hears. Understand?

You're... Surprisingly receptive. You give a twitchy smile and stammer out an o-okay. He's almost pleased, but quickly realizes what you're doing.

You've been trained for this, you see. This kind of thing is attempted rather frequently in the industry. You received training for this situation - comply, don't fight, prioritize your safety, because in 99% of these cases, the missing idol is found and recovered within 48 hours. So you do what you were told to do -- smile, pretend you're ok with it, don't do anything to anger your captor.

He knows that too. He doesn't do much in that 48 hours, in fact, he even tells you he's waiting to "see what happens." He knows he can't control himself very well, so he stays in his living room for the most part and works on research, it might be pointless if he's in jail a few hours from now, but oh well. Sleeps on his couch. He offers to feed you, but you say you don't feel good. He understands.

See, in his mind, if he gets to fuck you once or twice and then be hauled off to prison and never touch you again, well, that would be actual, literal torture, so much so that never fucking you at all would be more bearable. So that's why he forces himself to wait now. He feels like he can't breathe, he's so nervous, like any moment police are going to come knocking on his door. Every little sound makes him jump. He can't sleep.

But 48 hours pass and... nothing happens.

He breathes a bit easier. Finally dares to go online, which he's been avoiding, and check on your situation... Oh, wow, social media has exploded over your disappearance. But... They have no leads. Nothing. Says she basically vanished out of thin air. Situation is, quote, "looking hopeless." Huh. He did an even better job than he thought he did. There's videos from loved ones begging the captor to let the girl go, offering to give him money even. A lot of money. But, you're more valuable than any monetary measurements could ever conceive. And he's happy. It really worked out. Everything went right, and for once, he has something that really, really makes him happy.

Likewise, the 48 hours are even more torturous for you. You start out telling yourself it'll be fine. Hopeful. But that hope in your chest slowly, gradually dies out as you realize you've hit the 48-hour mark. Even for a normal missing person, you've always heard that if they don't find them within 48 hours... the chances of ever finding them goes down significantly. But, that's because they're usually dead, right? And this guy won't kill you, so, your chances are better, right...?

He comes back after that 48 hours and finally, for the first time since you woke up, crawls onto the bed, touches you, grabs your hips with his hands. Tells you that, well, they haven't found anything yet and it looks like they aren't going to, so you're officially his now, and he's no longer worried. You should accept it. It'll make things easier for both of you if you do. You'll get adjusted in no time, you'll see.

Unsurprisingly, you're a bit less compliant than you were when you had hope. You whimper and and struggle, but it's really weak. So much so it's cute. You ask who he is. No one important, he says. Just... A fan of yours. You can hear clothes shuffling. He doesn't waste time, he's already waited two whole days suffering, so he gets his dick in you pretty quickly. Manages to make you cum. It horrifies you and kinda surprises him too to be honest. You must kinda like pain, huh. Well, that works out well.

As time goes on, what hope you had left dies completely. Weeks pass. You realize they're not coming for you. In an attempt to get you to accept it, he even shows you that you've been replaced. They're rather quick to fix the absence. They have a new girl in your spot by the end of the month. He quickly realizes maybe he shouldn't have told you, from the way your face falls and you get all hysterical. Sorry. It's the way the industry is. Don't worry. She's not even half as cute as you.

He shows you the announcement when they close the investigation, too. This also earns a rather hysterical response, but he thinks it's important you see it, so you can finally come to terms with your fate, the way things were always meant to turn out. He gets a bit frustrated. Just accept it. It's not that hard. The sooner you do, the happier you'll be. It's for your own good that you accept it.

And you do. Try as you might. You begin to make conversation. He's the only source of interaction you have. You learn about him and his life. You become invested in it. You start to cum more easily. When he's sitting on the opposite side of the bed typing away, you find yourself slowly wiggling your way over and pressing yourself against the warmth, and he certainly doesn't mind. You ask him about his research just to hear a voice talk.

And sometimes you sing. It's absent minded, soft and quiet, when you have nothing else to do. He likes that a lot. You get sweeter. Nicer. Fight less. It does take a bit longer than two weeks to set in fully. But it does in the end.

He can't be with you 24/7, as much as he would like to be, so sometimes he has to tell you to just hang on a little while. Be good and sit still for just a bit. He'll be back soon. Just give him an hour. You're just really distracting and, well, his progress report is due tomorrow morning.

And you keep getting upset over the new member, bring it up a lot... It must have really bothered you, huh. Well, don't feel bad about being replaced. To him, nothing could ever replace you... you're still his favorite.

#.al #.idol

[twjournals]

The Right Place

This is the third and final part of the trilogy. I can not thank you enough for the endless support. I did not expect to even turn this into a three-parter, but you asked and you shall receive. You guys are amazing!

So Wrong It's Right

What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, dub-con, all characters are of age, pregnancy, abuse, mild non-con touching, violence

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Your world was in shambles and any move you made to try and fix it only seemed to make what was left crumble. You did not speak with anyone since you had found out you were pregnant, not even May. You did not know what you could even say to her or how you could explain what was going on. You knew she would find out sooner or later, but you had planned on later. You could not even stomach the thought of telling her. It would not be easy and you knew you would probably lose her friendship in the process.

You avoided Peter as much as you could. He always messaged to check up on you, but you would never reply. You were disappointed in yourself. If you had just been the biggest person and moved on, if you had not have gotten drunk, you would not be in this situation right now.

Peter never gave up on you. He had hoped you would come around. That you would understand why your life was going in the direction it was. You needed to get away from the toxicity you surrounded with, especially Chris. You were meant for bigger and better things. You were meant to be more than a housewife. You were to be a mother, a lover, a soulmate. You deserved the world and he wanted so bad to give you it plus more.

You continued to shut him out though. You did not answer his phone calls or his text messages no matter how many times he tried. He sat outside on your fire escape many nights, listening to you crying yourself to sleep. It broke his heart to see you in this situation, but he wishes you would look on the bright side of things. Maybe it was not the greatest timing to have a baby, but it didn't mean your lives were ruined. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. Sometimes change is required for what we need in our life and you weren't necessarily open to it.

He honestly had tried to give you your space. He stuck to the rooftop above you where you could not see him when you would finally leave the house for work. You always looked so beautiful to him, even if he knew you had been crying all night. If you would just answer his messages, he would not have to go this far.

Peter watched you many mornings on your way to work. He followed your bus all the way to the place he prayed you would never go. He kneeled on top of the building, watching as you stared sadly at the front doors of the clinic. He wished you would turn around. To save him from having to web you down before you got in the building. You were picking at your sweater. No matter the number of times you found yourself standing outside the clinic, you never could bring yourself to even reach for the door.

You were at war with yourself. Peter could tell you fought against the changes, but your heart could not bring you to stop them from happening despite how unhappy you were. It always ended with a sigh and with you proceeding to walk the rest of the way to work. Peter seemed to hold his breath until you walked away.

Work was always a drag now. You had nothing to look forward to anymore but everything in the world to worry about. You stared at your phone as it lay against the computer screen. You rubbed your face tiredly.

You knew it was time to let go of your past. You sighed deeply, taking your phone in your hands and clicking on Chris's old messages. You began typing.

Are you able to come by later?

You noticed he read your message right away. You sat your phone down, still staring at the screen when he responded back.

Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.

You told him you would message him once you got home. You were sure what time you would get off when it came to your job. You wrote a company and spent the hours necessary to do what you needed to do.

By the time your workday had finally ended, you were having mixed feelings about inviting him over. Being pregnant did not help your feelings from being all over the place. Your thumbs hovered over the keypad on your screen. You were hesitant. Even if he had said he respected whatever you decided, you knew he could not entirely mean that. You quickly typed out that you were home and hit send before you could give yourself time to think almost about it. Maybe you should have thought about it a little longer.

Peter was stuck at school for one of his night classes. He dreaded his night classes now more than ever considering your condition. He had already skipping enough classes due to worrying so much about you. He could not afford to flunk out of school now after all the time and effort he had dedicated already. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on you, he tried to give you room to breathe, to think, and process.

You pushed his bags in the living room by the door, straightening your sweater to keep it off of your stomach. You were not big to others, but to you, you worried if people can tell. You did not want to chance it and certainly not with Chris. You wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

Your heart almost leaped from your chest at the knock on your door. You slid the chain from the lock and pulled the door open to see his face light up as soon as he saw you.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hi." You leaned against the door slightly as you moved out of the way for him to enter.

"I'm so glad you're giving this a second-" He stepped into the apartment, noticing bags of his belongings to the side of him and he grew quiet. "You're not giving me a second chance." He pointed out and you frowned slightly, still standing by the door.

"I think it is what's best for the both of us." Your voice was quiet and calm, but in your mind, it was the hardest thing possible for you to say.

"Is it?" His voice seemed bitter and you looked down at your feet, nodding slowly. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. He turned to face you fully and you hesitated to make eye contact with him.

"It is. I still want the best for you."

"Do you not believe I can change? I don't understand. What can I do to change your mind?" He pressed.

"Please don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought. It consumes my mind to no end. I just need to focus on myself right now."

"Imagine that." It was silent in the room and you glanced at him, only to find him shaking his head with a snicker. "It's not what's best for the both of us. Not for me. This is what's best for you. Can't imagine how I even thought you could be anything but selfish."

"Chris, I just want to keep this civil."

"Good for you." He pulls the door from your grasp and slamming it shut, startling you. "That's all you've ever been, hm? You're gonna have to lose that mindset if you plan on marrying me."

"I don't-"

"You will." He corrected, moving so close you could feel his breath across your face. "I put too much time into this for you to walk away from me."

You swallowed hard. The man who stared back at you was far from familiar. You tried to step around him but he only pushed you back into your place between him and the wall.

"Goddamn it, just get your stuff and go!" You raised your voice and he slapped his hand hard across your cheek. It was strong enough to make you see stars in your eyes. You yelped at the impact and held your cheek as it stung in pain.

"You watch your fucking tone." He stared down at you. He had never hit you before in the years you had been together. He never raised a hand to you, but then again, he never raised one for you either.

You could not imagine how much worse this would get. You left sick to your stomach when he grabbed your chin, tilting your head upright to look at him, stroking his fingers across your stinging cheek as his eyes flickered over your face in thought.

"Truth to be told, I think it's you who needs to change. I put up with so much from you. You had me in the beginning. Thought I was getting this wild, sex-crazed wife, oh, the fun we use to have. The drunken nights." He stiffed a laugh as he let his free hand grab the end of your sweater. "You really had me fooled, didn't you sweetheart?"

You were scared to move. Scared that one wrong move and he would hit you again, maybe worse. You closed your eyes, hoping Peter would answer your prayers. You regretted how much you ever took advantage of his kindness. How long you acted like you never noticed. You had always noticed. You felt his hand push underneath your shirt, and his gaze grazed over your stomach.

You noticed the way his hand froze against the small curve of your rounded stomach and he instantly lifted your shirt to see the problem. Your vision was blurred from your tears as he stared at your stomach with wide eyes. You could tell he was getting pissed.

"Really looks like you've been focusing on yourself." He lets your sweater fall back down over your stomach. His grip was still firm on your jaw, giving you no choice but to look at him. "You have some nerve to leave me. I could bet money it's Parker's. It is, isn't it?"

You could not bring yourself to admit it, but you did not have to.

He shoved your face from his hand, causing you to hit your head hard against the wall as he let you go. "You fucking make me sick."

You tried to keep your sobs quiet, listening to his footsteps moving away from you, listening to him jerking his bags up. "Better it's his problem and not mine." He muttered before slamming the door shut behind him.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you sat up against the wall with a sob. You didn't realize how much you needed Peter until now. You were sure he would have been successful if Peter had not have stopped. You hugged your knees as you tried to catch your breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

After a moment, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself to your feet. You let out a whimper quiet, feeling mild cramps in your lower stomach. You frowned as you turned the lock to the door, pressing your forehead against it as you held your stomach from the pain. It only seemed to worsen the longer you stood there. You weren't sure what was going on, but you had a feeling whatever it was, it was not good. You stood like that hoping the cramps would ease, but they never did.

It was close to the end of class when Peter's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out of his phone slightly to see who it was. He glanced up at the professor who had still proceeded with his lecture and Peter lowered his head to answer. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him after all this time of avoiding him.

"Y/n? Is everything okay?"

"I think something is wrong." You whimpered quietly and he raises an eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean "wrong"? Is the baby okay?" He looked up at the teacher who was making eye contact with him now as he talked.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

That was all it took to get Peter moving. He grabbed his books off of his desk and tossed them in his bag while he scrambled from the classroom.

"It hurts." You rubbed your lower stomach like you always did when you had cramps before. Cramps were normal, but with being pregnant, you could never be too sure what they really meant.

"I know, love. I'm so sorry. Hang tight. I'm on my way." He reassured you as he sprinted out of the building.

---

You lay back on the hospital bed, sighing as Peter ran his hand over your bump in gentle circles. For once, you let him. Your cramps had surprisingly lessened since Peter had shown up, but he did not want to take any chances. It was better to be safe than sorry. He was so worried about you and the baby.

Nurses had been in and out of the room, doing blood work, swabbing, anything necessary to get to the bottom of this. Peter was quiet as he sat on the side of the hospital bed, focused on the massage he was giving your stomach. This was the first time he had touched you since the night you found out you were pregnant.

You could not help back to smile slightly to yourself as his long gentle fingers worked over your skin. He must have sensed your stare because it was not long before his eyes glancing up to meet your stare.

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is this okay? I'm not making it worse, am I?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm just watching."

He smiled at you while he continued his massage to your tummy. His eyes looked toward the door when a nurse came in, rolling some equipment over to the bedside.

"Miss. Y/l/n, your lab work should not be much longer. If you do not mind, I would like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. Is that okay with you?"

You nodded and Peter took his hands back to let her work. She rolled over a chair, taking some gel and squirting some across your lower stomach. The nurse rolled the transducer over the gel and smearing it in as she applied some pleasure in search of a heartbeat. You watched her roam your stomach, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes widened slightly when the sound of the baby's beating heart filled the room. Once the nurse got a clear view, she turned the screen to show you and Peter what she was seeing.

You looked over at the monitor, your heart fluttered slightly at the first sight of your baby. That was your baby, even if it was only a little bean now. You could not stop the smile from forming on your lips. This little bean was life was growing inside of you. This brought a whole new light to your pregnancy. It was like a light had switched on. You did not know how to explain the overwhelming feeling. It felt more real after seeing him or her.

Peter was just as taken back as you. His grin never faded at the sight of your baby. It only made him 10x more eager to be a dad.

"Look at that. Already looks like me." Peter teased and you giggled, considering he or she was not much more than a heartbeat at the moment.

"I can definitely see it." You grinned as Peter rest his hand over yours, sliding his fingers between yours. He brought your hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of it. You watched him kiss your hand and shivered slightly. You did not know what to think of everything at this point.

The nurse checked the baby's heartbeat before turning to the computer behind her and check your lab results with a quiet hum as she scrolled through your charts.

"Well, it seems like everything is just fine. Your baby is certainly healthy and has one of the strongest heartbeats I have ever heard." You looked over at Peter and he only grinned. You could thank Peter for that and all of his spidey senses.

"Your blood pressure was pretty high though and considering your history, your blood pressure has always been perfect. Have you been stressed out lately?" She looked back at you and you nodded slightly.

You were ashamed at how stressed you had let yourself get. "Well, I won't ask for details but if it is anything I can help you with, I would be happy to help. If not, I would stay to keep the stress to a minimum. Your baby does feel anything you feel, so some things can be too much and really take a toll on them." She explained. "Think of this as your baby reminding you to breathe."

You smiled, feeling Peter giving your hand a warm squeeze.

"If your blood pressure does continue to be high, we will see if we can do something to help." You nodded again as she made out some prints of your ultrasound and handing them to you. "If you don't have any questions, I'll let one of the other nurses know and they can keep your paperwork ready for you to go home." She took a paper towel and wiped your stomach clean before tossing it.

With that, she gathered up her equipment before rolling it out of the room with her. You pulled your sweater back down over your stomach.

"Hear that. Now do me a favor and leave all of the worrying up to me." He looked up at you as your eyes stayed glued to your ultrasound prints. His eyes flickered over your face, landing on the bruising mark on your cheek. He reached up, moving a piece of hair back of your face to get a better look. You flinched at the contact. Peter seemed taken back by your flinch.

"What happened? How'd you get that?" You kept your head down with a small frown.

"I invited Chris over to get his stuff. He thought I was taking him back. He didn't take it well." You explained and his eyes widened.

"He hit you?!" You reached Peter's hand as he started to jump up from the bed. "I'll kill him. I swear to you-"

"Peter, please. It's over with now." You assured him, tugging his hand to pull him back to the bed to sit down again. "He's not worth it."

Peter frowned, letting out a deep sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He did not want to stress you any more than you had already been. "I'm sorry he did that to you. I wish I could have been there."

"Honestly, I needed this. It made letting go of him a lot easier."

"Was that all he did?"

You grew quiet.

"Did he..."

"No, he didn't." You shook your head after he could finish his sentence. "He saw that I was pregnant and left."

Peter tried to keep his composure as his fist clenches out of your sight. He could not imagine how someone could lay a single finger on you with intentions to hurt you. He was quiet. He was trying to hold it together for your sake.

"He didn't say anything?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing your thumb across the print. "Just that he was glad it was your problem and not his." You shrugged your shoulders slightly. "Even though it's not a problem, I am glad it's you and not him. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a baby with someone that selfish."

His clenched fist loosened at your words and his eyes softened. He could not believe his ears. Were you really saying this?

His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "You mean that?"

You smiled at him with a nod. "I do. You're so selfless and care so much about what you can do for others. Even though I've been selfish, you still stuck by my side. I honestly couldn't ask for a better father for my baby."

His smile widened as he looked at you, resting his hand on your small bump. "Our baby."

You rested your hand on top of his with a smile, nodding your head. "Our baby." You agreed.

---

It was not long after that the nurse gave you the okay to leave. Peter had stopped to get you something to eat before he took you home. He wanted to make sure you had been fed. All of the little things like this had slowly pulled you closer Peter. You were not used to how observant and patient he was. As much as you knew how wrong your whole situation was, you could not help but to give in to it. Despite your age, Peter had treated you better than any other guy you had been with. Even better than the one you had been with for years. Peter was the blessing you never knew you needed. He was the blessing in disguise.

He held onto your hand, walking up the steps to your apartment and using the keys to unlock the door for you. He didn't expect you to let him stay. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay before he left you alone.

"Thank you for everything." You looked up at him as you both stood in front of your door.

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me."

"You know I owe you."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You don't owe me anything. You're having our baby. I consider that payment enough." He teases, his hands resting on your waist. He could not help but touch you. In every possible, he would if he could. Your cheeks blushed at his response, looking down but Peter let his finger hook underneath your chin to tilt your head back up. Your lips were barely an inch apart when the moment was quickly ruined.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" A familiar voice pulled you from your moment, making your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when the realization hit. You did not even have to look over to know it was May. Her face was red in anger when your eyes met hers. "You ignore me for weeks and when I come to check on you, you're smacking lips with my nephew?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your lips parted to say something, but no words came out. You did not where to begin with explaining yourself to her. You knew this was all wrong, but it was all too late.

"I thought you were hurt, but obviously, you're perfectly fine." She was fuming.

You never wanted her to find out this way. You wished you had more time to think about it and figure out a better way, but this was it. This was the moment of truth and you were terrified to lose your best friend. You felt tears forming in your eyes and Peter frowned.

"Aunt May, stop."

"Stop?! I'm not going to stop! You're not going to use my nephew so you can get over your worthless ex-boyfriend."

"Aunt May!"

You fought to hold back your tears until you could not anymore. You felt the tears running down your face. As much of a low blow that was, you felt you deserved to hear it. "Peter, i-it's okay." You struggled to form your words. You were hurt, embarrassed, ashamed.

"No, it's not." He shook his head, pointing a finger at May as she stood only a few feet distance from the two of you by her car. "You've gone too far."

"I don't understand how you think this is okay, Y/n." She shook her head, ashamed at you.

"I didn't expect for it to be like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You confessed.

"Just like you never meant for all those one-night stands to happen huh? I trusted you!" She yelled, making you flinch. You hung your head in defeat, glancing at Peter with sad eyes before going inside. You could not stomach the rest of the conversation without sobbing. You tried to calm yourself once you were inside.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled suddenly. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to decide what is best for me, Aunt May. I'm not here against my will and neither is she."

"She's supposed to be my friend." She didn't know what to make of this.

"You're supposed to be my Aunt! You knew how hard I crushed over her. For years you knew."

"I thought it was just a crush."

He moved closer to her in the parking lot. It was never just a crush. He was head over heels for you. "I love her. I've always loved her. You're can either respect it or accept it, because it's either way, she's pregnant and nothing is going to change that." He stood by her car.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She did not know what to think. Never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but then again never would have you.

"Pregnant?" Her voice was quiet.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad, Aunt May." He pulled his copy of the prints out of his wallet and showing them to her.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. There was nothing she could do about that. May stared at the prints for a moment, trying to process everything in the short time it had all happened.

"Peter... I don't understand..."

"She almost had a miscarriage today because she's been stressing herself out over Chris. You're not going to take this away from me." He looks down at her, taking the prints back from her." He looked down at her as she stared back with a small frown. "Go home, Aunt May before we both do something we'll regret. You can come back when you're ready to apologize for this." He held the car door open for her and she hesitated before slowly getting in the car.

She knew she was in the wrong for how she had handled things, but Peter did not give her the chance to even risk making things worse. Peter felt deep in his heart despite everything she would come around. She would realize how happy you made him and she would accept it, but for now, she needed to leave.

Peter walked back to your front door, knocking on the door with a sigh. After a few moments, you moved from your spot on the couch to answer the door. You opened it slightly to see Peter and you glanced behind him at May's car pulling out of the parking lot.

"How are you?" He frowned when he saw your red watery eyes.

"I feel awful."

He sighed when you finally let go of the door and he stepped inside of the apartment. He let the door close behind him. His arms wrapped around your body instantly, pulling you against mine as he hugged you, resting his head against yours and kissing the top of it. "I'm so sorry. I know it's hard to believe now, but she'll come around. Just give her some time."

"She was going to find out sooner or later. I expected that reaction. I just wasn't prepared for it right now." You pointed out as your head rested against his chest, letting him hold onto you.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. You relaxed in his arms. Your eyes were burning from all the tears shed. Peter scooped your body up in his arms bridal style, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, sliding into the bed with you as his arms naturally found their way around your waist. Your head fell to his chest as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"I'm starting to think I can never make the right choices." You admitted, laughing slightly to yourself and Peter tilted your head up to look at him.

His lips pressed a kiss to your nose. "Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places." He assured you before leaning in to close the space between your lips and kissing your lips.

He was true to word. No matter how much you held yourself back, every wrong choice you had ever made in your life brought you to this moment with Peter. This opportunity with Peter to finally get your life right. It was your chance to allow yourself the happiness you knew you both deserved.

End Credits Scene

He was not sure how long he had been sitting with his wrists and ankles restrained to a chair in the middle of a dark room. Maybe hours. It even could have been days. He was not sure. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light that poured into the room when he finally heard a heavy door open.

"Oh good, you're awake." He was covered in sweat from fear and the heat of the closed-off room. He could make out bits of a red and blue suit. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his eyes widened at the sight of Spiderman in front of him. He did not understand what was going on. Spiderman is supposed to save people.

His mouth was covered with solid webbing so he could not speak.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Peter moved closer to him as he spoke. He leaned down, ripping the webbing from Chris' mouth and making him cry out in pain from the grip it had on his skin. "You see Chris if there's one thing I hate, it's people who hurt the people I care about."

"W-What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

"Don't play dumb." Peter gritted his teeth underneath his mask, backhanding Chris across the face before gripping his jaw. "You know exactly what you did, but that's okay because it won't happen again. You'll never touch Y/n again. I'll make sure of that."

Blood dripped from Chris's mouth from how hard Peter hit him. "I should fucking kill you for putting your hands on her." He smirked to himself when Chris starts squirming under his grip. "But I won't."

"I won't. I won't touch her again. I swear-"

"Oh, I know you won't." Peter let go of his jaw before backing up towards the door again.

"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to let me go?" Chris started to panic as Peter pulled his mask off for Chris to see his face. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw if he died and the thing he would definitely remember if he lived.

"I didn't say I was going to let you go. I said I wasn't going to kill you." He smiled and Chris's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Peter Parker standing before him. "I was thinking we could make a game out of this. I hear you like games. Let's see just how important you really are. I'm gonna leave you here and we're gonna see if your friends succeed with their search party if they even send one out. I can't imagine what they would care about scum like you for, but I guess we'll see. I give you about 48 hours before your body finishes you off itself. That should give you more than enough time to think about what I've said. That's if you do make it and I don't really have faith that's gonna happen, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to get the hell out of New York. I promise to you if ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Chris swallowed hard as Peter stood in the doorway once more, the sun outlining his figure at the door. He was scared of the possibility of not being found. He was furious that a guy like Peter was capable of putting him in a situation like this.

"They'll find me and when they do, you're a dead man, Peter Parker." He pulled at the restraints on his arms with all of his might but he did not stand a chance against the webbing. Peter made it look so easy.

Peter grinned at Chris's promise. He loved the challenge. The possibility that even if someone did find him, he would have the pleasure of killing him himself. It amused Peter that Chris could even have the nerve to threaten him in the position he was in.

"Well, let the game begin." He gave a wave as he started to pull the door closed. Chris yelled to the top of his lungs until the heavy metal door ceased his screams.

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