#please be nice this is the first imagine or anything ive ever done for the hobbit or lotr

[janaispunk]

are you ever dreaming of me?

series masterlist • this is part IV

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: This got very dark very quickly, but it had to be done. It’s basically just one big love letter from me to Dave and his character. I know Dave’s behavior in the last chapter has been a little frustrating but I hope it’ll make more sense now (it’s still frustrating though ngl). I also know this is not as smut-heavy as the other chapters, which might come as a disappointment to some. Stay with me here, more filth is coming soon, I just had to get emotional for a second. <3 (also, please be nice because I lowkey hate this, actually)

word count: ~3.1k

summary: Dave’s side of the story.

warnings: ANGST, bits of fluff if you squint, age-gap, mentions of killing people, mentions of death, mentions of rough sex, power imbalance, able-bodied reader, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, dubios morals (Dave is cheating on his wife… kinda), idiots in love, this whole serious is still very much 18+ only, mdni… did I mention angst? (As always, please tell if if I forgot something!)

dividers by @/saradika <3

find my full masterlist here!

Dave York isn’t a good man.

He isn’t a good man and he hasn’t been in a long time. He probably had been, once, when he first joined the military, when he still thought that he was doing the good thing, the right thing. Before he killed his first man. Now he’s living in shades of gray, where nothing is as simple as right or wrong.

He knows that what he’s doing is not right, but then again, the people that he’s killing aren’t good men either. He’s doing what he’s good at, what he has been trained to do for years. He doesn’t really know what else he’s good at. If there even is anything else.

He makes enough money to provide well for his daughters, the only thing in his life that he really cares about, the two girls that he loves more than anything. He loved their mother too, once, when they were both young. They were high school sweethearts, got married quickly simply because that was the thing that you did, only to realize later that adult life with each other wasn’t what either of them had imagined.

He’s never told Carol what exactly it is that he does, trying to protect her, which then led to her not understanding what was going on when he came home feeling cold and empty, a void inside of him that nothing could fill. They both grew distant from each other, not sharing any real connection anymore, just living aside one another. It works for him; their daughters are still the top priority for both of them, and they’re going to do everything in their power to give them the best possible childhood.

He suspects that Carol is seeing someone else, with the way she’s sometimes working late for no good reason, sliding out of the room to answer her phone at odd hours, the way he occasionally finds a position on their shared credit card bill that he doesn’t have an explanation for.

Dave knows that if he cared, he could easily find out every little detail about it. If he cared, he would probably be angry at how she’s not even making an effort to hide it. But the thing is - he just can’t bring himself to care. Has never done the same thing either, neither out of spite, nor because he had any desire for it.

Until he met her.

Sitting in a hotel bar, two seats over from him, when he’d just gotten a job done and figured that a quick drink might help him fall asleep easier. The whiskey’s burn in his throat didn’t ease the coldness that felt like it had permanently settled into his chest, not that he’d expected it to.

He had just decided to retreat to his room and get out of the city first thing in the morning when she sighed loudly and downed her own drink abruptly. He had noticed her when he walked in, the way he always clocked every person in any room he entered, and every possible exit route. He had absentmindedly noted that she was attractive, then dismissed the thought immediately. Probably here for a date, much younger than him, not paying him any mind. Not a threat, and therefore not important.

Not important at all, until he found himself turning to her and offering to buy her another drink before his mind had even caught up to his actions, learning that she had just been stood up for what would indeed have been a date, noticing the glint of interest in her gaze as she eyed him up and down, feeling a kind of longing that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Getting her to go up to his room with him had been easy. A mutual understanding of wanting each other, the desire to turn a shitty evening into something else, something that he doesn’t think either of them understood at the time.

Kissing her for the first time had been easy, too. Touching her, feeling her hot skin under his fingertips, her entire being so much softer, lighter than he was, felt easy. It felt right, like something that he hadn’t known he was missing right until that moment. He wanted to devour her, make her his, get her as close as he possibly could, before he inevitably had to give up this fleeting moment of something that suspiciously felt like happiness, and happiness never stayed within his reach for too long.

Sinking into her for the first time, hearing her gasp, her breath hot against his neck, felt even better. This was never gonna last, things this good never did. The way she clenched around him when he first slapped her ass and her whimper of “harder, please” turned him feral in a way that he hadn’t known before. How she gave up all control to him so willingly when his entire life had felt out of control for so long - it was addicting. He had known that he would come back for more again and again before he had even spilled himself into her for the first time.

He hadn’t planned for her to stay the night. Hadn’t planned for the way she kissed his lips in the morning, acting a little shy, like she was worried that he might send her away, but so clearly showing him that she wanted more of him, if that was what he wanted. And god damn, did he want to give her more, give her all that he had to offer, if only it wasn’t for the fact that any more of him would be enough to scare her away for good.

So, he didn’t give her more. Made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t looking for an emotional attachment, told her about his marriage, told her that they couldn’t be a thing. She was quick to hide her disappointment, but not quick enough for him not to notice. He half expected her to walk out then, that this wasn’t something she wanted, but instead she scribbled down her phone number, gave him a flirty smile and told him to call her “whenever”.

He knew he was being greedy, that he should have kept it a one time thing that he could keep a fond memory of, but of course he called her. Kept making stops in her town before flying back home, started spending weekends with her, the feeling of being around her too good to let go of.

He knows that it’s not right, that he’s probably taking advantage of her in some way. Of course he sees how badly she wants to please him, how she looks at him like he’s hung the moon for her. She has never denied him anything, no matter what kinds of depraved things he’s wanted to do with her. Hesitated, yes, but she has never said no. Never called red, never asked him to stop. Not when he first told her to call him “sir”, not when he spanked her for the first time, not when he’s edging her until she’s barely coherent, not when his fingers tightened around her throat for the first time. He could leave her a crying, shaking mess on the floor, and by the end of the night she’d still look up at him with those wide eyes and thank him.

It’s addictive and he can’t stop, always comes back for more when it feels like his whole life is spiraling out of his control again, when the darkness around him is threatening to swallow him whole. She’ll let him grab at her with rough hands, mold her body into any shape he wants, let him spit filth at her and let lose until he feels grounded again, until some of the darkness around him has dissipated.

Lately, work has been weighing on him even harder. Maybe he’s just getting older, maybe he has finally reached his limit, he’s not sure. With the whole week off, an incredibly rare occurrence, he knew who he wanted to spend it with. She had seemed stressed lately, like she needed a break too, so it was easy to convince himself that he was doing this for her. That it wasn’t just a selfish plan of his to spend more time with her.

Because somewhere along the way he has come to enjoy the time with her way too much. He enjoys lying in bed together, both of them catching their breaths, laughing about a stupid joke, the little tidbits from her life that she shares with him, the rare occasions when they’re walking around her neighborhood. The way she shyly grabbed his hand the first time, like she was scared that he would pull it away. The smile that she tried to but couldn’t hide when he didn’t.

This isn’t right and it’s not going to last, he’s well aware of that. As clear as he has been about his intentions, he still feels like he’s leading her on sometimes. But it feels too good to stop, to let go of one of the few comforts that he has in life.

The past few days with her have been heaven. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would enjoy spending so much uninterrupted time with her, how good it would feel to be around her the entire day, just watching her be herself and listening to her talking. And he has been talking as well, the feeling of speaking to someone without an ulterior motive, of someone listening to him just because they wanted to, more meaningful to him than he could put into words.

And all throughout, she had so willingly bent to his every wish, put all her trust into him, secure in the knowledge that in the end, he would take care of her.

So, Dave had let his guard down. Relaxed. Then the dream happened.

Last night, he had come home to find the girls slaughtered in their house, their small bodies soaked in blood. It’s a recurring nightmare, a fear that he can never entirely shake off, that haunts his subconscious every couple of weeks. He’s being thorough in his work, never leaving loose ends, keeping his private life concealed from the world that he moves in. The risk that anything could happen to them is as low as he can push it, but it’s not zero. Never zero, and it’s eating at him. Usually, he wakes up alone, gasping for breath, the sheets soaked with sweat. Him and Carol haven’t slept in the same bed for a long time.

Last night, it had been different. It had been different because she had been there beside him, shaking him awake and holding him in her arms until he calmed back down. It had also been different because she had been part of the dream. Just as dead, just as blood-soaked as his daughters.

She had been so sweet when he woke up, and it broke his heart. He wasn’t a good person. He was endangering everyone around him, he was endangering her by not being able to end this thing with her, and yet here she was, oblivious, comforting him.

He had always thought that eventually, he would be the one to break things off. But what if it was her? What if she figured out what a pathetic excuse of a man he was, that he couldn’t give her anything? Not a real relationship, and no future. He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t let her see who he was. What he did, what he was afraid of - and just how realistic those fears were.

He couldn’t even bear to picture the look on her face if he ever told her. The betrayal, the disgust, and eventually the fear. He couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t. But how could he go on with this, knowing that every minute that he spends with her, he puts her in danger? Someone could find out. Someone could find her.

So does what he does best. Makes a plan. Suppresses his emotions until he’s sure of what to do. How to keep her safe. The logical part of his mind arrives at a solution pretty quickly: She’ll be safest if she stays away from him.

The emotional part of him, the part that he tries to keep shut down, doesn’t approve of this idea.

He has to tell her. Sooner rather than later, while the dream is still fresh in his memory, while he can still see her dead body when he closes his eyes.

Because he obviously knew about the dangers of being with him when he first laid eyes on her. When he kissed her for the first time, texted her for the first time, walked up to her apartment for the first time, when he booked this damn vacation because he’s unable to stay away from her. Unable to think straight when it comes to her. There’s a million reasons why he shouldn’t be with her and yet, he always finds a reason not to quit.

He tells himself that he’ll speak to her as soon as she gets up. Then once he’s done with his phone call. Maybe after they’ve had breakfast. At the end of the day, when they’re back in the room. He never does. He can’t.

The tension has become unbearable at that point. He knows that she’s confused, that she has questions that he doesn’t have answers for. His life feels out of control once again, so he tries gaining it back in the only way that he knows.

He half expected her to refuse him, but she seems just as relieved as he feels when he tells her to get down on her knees. Afterwards, he doesn’t feel better. Possibly hates himself even more.

He can tell that she’s off afterwards, and he’s battling himself to comfort her. This is not what he should be doing. None of this is what he should be doing.

Usually, she tucks herself into the space between his shoulder and his chest before he can even say a word. Not tonight. Tonight, she had her back turned to him before he had even switched off the lights, the “good night” that she normally breathes against his neck nothing more than a murmur from her side of the bed.

He stares at her backside in the darkness of the room, the way she seems to be curling in on herself, and he has no idea what to do. What they just did seemed like what she wanted, she had appeared eager, enthusiastic even, but maybe he read her wrong. Shit, he hadn’t even asked for her color once.

It’s quiet for a long time. He finally feels himself slowly drifting off to sleep, when her hears her sniffle. His eyes fly open again. It’s only minimal movements, but he can see her tremble ever so slightly. Fuck it, he thinks to himself as he reaches out towards her.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

You tense at his words, at the fact that he’s apparently awake. Has probably been the whole time. You try your hardest to make your voice sound normal, even though you know that it’s pointless.

“Nothing.”

It comes out even weaker than you had anticipated. You keep your back to him and feel him shuffling closer, his hand gently pulling at your shoulder to turn you towards him. “Baby. Talk to me.” His voice is soft in your ear and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. Baby. He has never called you Baby before. You feel a fresh wave of tears welling up in your eyes and shake your head but let him turn you around until you’re facing him.

His eyes search your face in the faint moonlight that’s filtering into the room and his hands cup your damp cheeks, his thumbs gently running over the skin under your eyes. The worry that’s so evident in his expression right now makes you want to break down. You’re exhausted, and confused, and you don’t understand the man in front of you and his contradictory behavior at all. So far you’ve been crying silently, but you can feel your bottom lip trembling as you try to suppress the sobs that are threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Did I- shit, was I too rough, did I hurt you? You didn’t say anything, but I never asked- I should’ve checked, I’m sorry, I-“

“You didn’t hurt me,” you whisper, cutting off his frantic rambling. He didn’t, not in the way that he’s referring to, anyway.

“Then what’s wrong?” he pleads, his hands still on your face, “Talk to me.” You inhale deeply. You really don’t want to have this conversation, but maybe it’s best like this. Rip the bandaid off, make it quick.

“Do you want to leave?”

Your voice breaks on the last word. He stares at you for a beat, his eyes wide. “Do I- What?” You shrug, unable to bring yourself to ask a second time. One of his hands slides down to your shoulder, holding you there. He doesn’t speak, his eyes boring into you.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer, your eyes dropping down to his chest instead. “You’ve been… weird. Today. I thought- I don’t fucking know, that I had done something or that you’ve-“ a sob breaks free and interrupts you, “that you’ve had enough of me. That you don’t want to go on with… this.” You gesture helplessly between the two of you.

You’re certain that now you’ve said too much, that if he hadn’t had enough before, he definitely has now. You’re supposed to be fun, a distraction, not someone who’s clinging to him, but you’re feeling too exhausted, too raw to keep pretending like this thing between you doesn’t mean something. To you, at least.

“Fuck,” Dave mumbles, and you gaze up to see the anguish in his eyes before his arms envelop you and he presses you against his chest, speaking into your hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

It’s quiet for a minute as you’re inhaling his scent, trying to calm yourself down, when something occurs to you. “You didn’t say no,” you whisper into his chest, “you said that I didn’t do anything, but… you didn’t say that you don’t want to leave.” Dave freezes for just a second, searching your face, then he sighs heavily. He sounds defeated, you think.

“No, I don’t want to leave.”

taglist/people who have expressed interest in this: @joelscurls @reddedmiller @iamasaddie @guelyury @theywhowriteandknowthings @amanitacowboy @corazondebeskar @vabeachazn @mellymbee @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @no1-nosesitter

let me know if you wanna be added, also no hard feelings if you wanna be removed! 🫶🏻

if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

series masterlist

#janas fics #the dress series #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories

[suneeater]

solomon + cold s/o

✎a/n: i feel like this solomon is a little ooc from the other posts ive done for him but i hope you like it anyways aaa

✰warnings: none, enjoy!

✉: Req open? POG!!If you don't mind i would like to req solomonxreader.. what will Solomon do when the reader feeling cold, i need more fluff pls! 😭👌Lesson 13 on nb ain't much for Solomon 😔

Solomon is constantly freezing, the man is literally a human ice box – it must be something about being away from home that has you both feeling so cold all the time but it’s like there is just a constant chill that has you both shivering. Don’t worry, you are definitely in this one together

The moment that you mention to Solomon that you’re cold he’s probably suggesting that you huddle together for warmth but honestly, it’s really only for his own benefit. If anything, cuddling with Solomon just leaves you even colder because his skin is icy cool to the touch at any given moment

You compromise and curl up together under some blankets. As if the weight of a heavy wool blanket isn’t enough, Solomon is wrapping himself completely around you as if trying to trap all of the heat against you so that you can’t ever possibly feel cold again. Depending on how long you stay like this, you might actually end up getting a little too hot 

Hot drinks on TAP, you’re always going to have some kind of warm beverage to sip on and let warm you from the inside out, and it’s nice to hold between your hands too. Maybe just to warm your hands up with. Maybe pour a little out the window when Solomon isn’t looking and then tell him how good the tea he made for you is. Which is why it’s all gone. It was so yummy.

Imagine sitting by the fireplace with Solomon! Definitely is going to be one of his first suggestions if you mention that you’re feeling cold. Not only is it a quick way to warm you up, but it’s homey and romantic. It reminds him a lot of being back at home, and it helps him to feel even more at ease – especially because it’s a feeling that the two of you can share. Even though his feet are still FREEZING, this thought can at least warm his heart

If you’re cold a lot, then Solomon is thinking about ways to keep you warm even when you aren’t with him. Some common gifts include blankets, hoodies, fuzzy socks, etc. He can’t pass up any remotely warm looking item without thinking of you, so he of course had to get it

Always makes sure that you don’t leave your home without layering up. Honestly, he sounds a little bit like a mother making sure that you bring a jacket, telling you to make sure to wear a hat and keep your head warm, making sure you have proper socks on – his love language is definitely acts of service

Will offer (more like insist) for you to wear one of his sweaters or hoodies to warm up in, concocting some story about its mysterious origins and how its enchanted with the warmth of 100 suns and about how he almost died retrieving it (he got it at costco) (please just wear his clothes)

#solomon x reader #solomon obey me #solomon x mc #solomon hc #solomon x you #solomon x yn #solomon headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me hc #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #soloman obey me #soloman x reader #soloman hc #soloman x mc

[ninas-tearsofrain]

Maybe

Pairing: Jake x Kallie

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Kallie has been friends with the boys since they were in highschool. Their friendship always turbulent with many twist and surprises. Things change when people grow up, but can Jake and Kallie ever be, what they were before?

A/N: This was supposed to be a short christmas themed fic, i wrote as a secret snata gift, but i got carried away and i built a whole storyline since highschool age and it will develop into their adulthood. I´m going to continue as much as i can over christmas break, but if i dont get it done in these two weeks, i´ll probably update every week after that, so, Kallie, bare with me :,) (and its barely edited)

If anyone would like to help a beginner writer out, to edit, give ideas or to spice things up a bit, anything would be appreciated

For anyone else reading this, you can just imagine this as an original female character if you want.

This is my first story im sharing on here (and first ever actual fanfic ive written), so please be nice :)

It was warm, despite the angry snowstorm and the merciless wind outside. The fireplace was lit, which engulfed the room in a comfortable heat and a soft orange glow. The lights on the Christmas tree were twinkling like the stars, that weren’t even visible tonight, due to the constant onslaught of fresh snow. You liked it this way, sipping your mint hot chocolate on the couch while Howls Moving Castle was playing on the tv.

You couldn’t focus though. It had been so long since you had spent Christmas with the boys. You were a bit nervous about seeing Jake again. Last time you saw him, you left things on a bit of an awkward note. Josh is your best and oldest friend, knowing him since high school, with that came the friendship with his brothers, it just happened automatically. But with Jake, it never felt like the friendship you had with the other Kiszka’s or Danny. It was always a bit different and felt more complicated.

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One day you were hanging out at Josh´s house, when Sam barged into the room, Danny following closely behind, yelling at Josh for taking his charger without asking. “Can you just please stop taking my stuff?! It’s like this every time. If I were to take your stuff without asking, you would literally tackle me to the floor right now” He was fuming, ripping through the room looking for the charger, while Josh was yelling at him not to mess up his room.

You looked to the door, to see Danny still standing at there with an amused smirk on his face, watching his best friend be his usual self. When he saw you, he smiled, it was a “I’m sorry that this is what you’re getting yourself into smile” and gave a little wave, while Sam was so distracted with finding his charger, that he didn’t notice you at first, but when he realized, his mood immediately changed, and he greeted you with his typical Sam grin and introduced himself and Danny. You didn’t know back then, what that mischievous Sam grin meant, when he looked at Josh and asked if he had introduced you to Jake yet. Josh simply replied that he wasn’t home yet.

When you met Jake, it was when Josh had invited you to watch them play in their garage. Josh had told you before, that they were in a band with one of their friends, Kyle, but you would have never anticipated that they were already that good. Josh had just always made it out to be just this casual thing they did sometimes, but they sounded professional. You´d known that he liked to sing but hearing him belt out a cover of rolling in the deep, making it his own and giving you goosebumps, you were blown away.

Then you saw him. Jake. He opened the garage door with some drinks in hand. He was looking at Josh annoyed “Next time just wait a few minutes until I’m here before playing. It’s not like you had to wait that long, last week you were an hour late Josh”. Josh just rolled his eyes. Jake was struggling to push open the door while also trying to balance the drinks in hand, when Josh spoke up “Kallie, would you be a sweetheart and help Jake out? I have to set up the microphone again, since someone just tore the cord out of the wall” he gave a pointed look at Jake.

You could barely see Jake, since the door was facing your way, on the little beat-up sofa, they had in their garage. You pushed yourself off the clearly well used red thing and walked to the door, pulling it open a bit further so that Jake could walk in. “Thanks” he murmured. The first thing you noticed, was his long wavy hair. It fell below his shoulders like a shimmery waterfall. As you met his eyes, your breath caught in your throat. They were the warmest shade of golden brown you had ever seen.

You ripped yourself out of your thoughts, feeling like you were staring into his eyes for an awkwardly long time. “Here, let me help you” you said, while taking some of the bottles out of his hands, as to not look like a complete fool. Your fingers brushed his for a tiny moment, sending sparks through your body and making your fingertips, where they´d touched, feel hot in spite of the air conditioning which had made the garage a bit chilly. You didn’t know, if the goosebumps on your skin were because of the temperature or because of the slight feeling of an impending crush on this beautiful boy in front of you.

Feeling like you´d made enough of a clown of yourself you moved to let him through. You heard Sam snicker behind you as Jake walked to his cherry red Les Paul. He kept glancing at you, throughout the entire time he was playing. You were truly captivated by him since that day.

That tiny little crush grew and grew over the next week, catching him often looking at you on your now almost daily visits to their garage jam sessions, which made it even worse, but he never actually talked to you a lot, he would always just constantly sneak a look at you and continue with whatever he was doing. As time went on, you felt like he just had no interest in talking with you, since he seemed to chat it up just fine with his brothers and friends.

Once, while chilling on the floor with Josh in his room, you mustered up the courage to bring it up. “Josh?” your voice gave away your nervousness, despite your effort to sound as casual as possible. To your relief, he didn’t even seem to notice as he gave a little “Hm?” without even looking up from his notebook, which he had been feverishly writing in for the past few weeks, writing down any lyric idea that popped into his head. They had started writing some original songs, which was exciting.

“Do you think Jake hates me?” Now he looked up at you, with both an amused and a confused expression on his face “What makes you think that?” he asked, bewildered. Now there was no backing out of being vulnerable anymore, but it’s not like you felt like you had to anyway, Josh always made you feel so comfortable telling him your deepest darkest secrets, you didn’t need to feel stupid talking to him about this.

“Well, he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me much.” you sigh, frustrated with him and yourself about caring so much if Jake talked to you or not. “You know how he is; he just doesn’t talk much. He’s a quiet guy, I promise you, he has no reason to hate you, you’re too sweet, silly” he attacked you with a tight hug and a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You were both giggling now, lying on the floor. He always knew how to make you feel better.

After calming down a bit and sitting upright again, you got serious again “I guess you’re right, but none of you act that way around me, not even Danny and he’s also a quiet guy” you said making air quotes “He’s also the shyest out of all of you, but he still talks to me. It´s not like Jake is completely mute, he talks to you guys and all his other friends, so what’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t he like me?”

Josh was looking at you with slightly squinted eyes as if he could see right through you “Are you really that upset that you’re not friends with Jake or is this something else?” he asked, grinning. “What? No, what are you talking about? I don’t know what you’re implying, pfff” you were so flustered, you didn’t know what to say.

You should’ve known, with how much time you spent together and how he knew you so well, that he would indeed see right through you. “I think sweet little Kallie has a cru-u-ush” he sing-songed. “Oh my god Josh, no I don’t” your cheeks were hot and even if you would have been able to lie to Josh, your beet red face would have been a dead giveaway. “Oh, but I think you do. Nothing to be ashamed of, I mean I get it, we are identical twins, he looks just like me, so what’s not to like” he flicked his hair back with a shit-eating grin while laughing.

You pushed his shoulder playfully “Stop, you’re so annoying”, but even you couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping onto your face. He stopped laughing but still had a calm smile when he looked into your eyes “Kallie, you’re the most beautiful, smart, talented girl I know, Jake would be lucky if someone like you had even the slightest interest in him, trust me. His current ´girlfriend´, if you can even call her that, barely seems to like him. I just don’t want my brother to get hurt, but it’s not like I can do much about it except for talk to him.”

You hadn’t even known, he had a girlfriend until now, only proving your point on how Jake never talks to you. Even more the reason to bottle up your feelings.

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This went on for a while. You were now a near constant presence at the Kiszka house, but Jake still seemed to be able to avoid you, not like you were looking for him or anything. Even though Karen and Kelly were even starting to treat you like one of theirs and their guest room constantly having some of your stuff left in it, you barely saw him. Until one day.

Josh had invited you over for a hangout, as per usual. You were in the backyard on some lounge chairs, Josh was getting philosophical again, when he stopped “Its hot out and I’m dying of thirst. Would you please be a dear and get us some drinks out of the fridge in the garage. I would, but I’m too busy thinking about the absurdity of our human existence” You laughed, seeing his attempt at puppy dog eyes. You gave in and got off the lounge chair, walking inside and to the door leading to the garage. As you got closer, you heard music flowing through the cracked door, a guitar. Jake was in there.

 You stood infront of the slightly opened door, listening to the fast, angry growls of jakes electric guitar. You could barely see him and his accelerated movements through the gap, his fingers moving swiftly along the fretboard with his head thrown back, eyebrows knitted together and sweat glistening on his forehead. You missed seeing him, even if you never talked. He had his hair pulled into a bun low on his head and he looked… angry. You really didn’t want to go in there. Why did he make you feel this way.

You wished you could just walk back and steer clear of being in a room alone with Jake, after he had seemingly avoided you for so long now. But what would you tell Josh? ´Sorry I didn’t get our drinks, your brother was in the garage, and I was too nervous to just go in there, get our drinks and go, because he makes me nervous to be around him´? That wouldn’t work. You were ripped out of your thoughts, when you noticed that the music stopped, and a voice spoke up.

“You don’t have to stand there gaping, you can come in”. You were caught and now you felt embarrassed, but walking away without saying anything, would be even worse so you pushed the door open and stepped in “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, I was just getting some drinks for me and Josh. That sounded amazing though, are you working on something new?” you tried to keep the conversation going, ignoring the tension in your belly.

“Not really.” his voice was monotone, but you could make out an unsteadiness in it, you knew came from holding back emotion. “I just like to play when I don’t know what else to do with myself.” He was looking at you now, his eyes glassy and filled with something, you couldn’t quite make out. Wow, this was the longest he had ever talked to you. Normally he´d give one-word answers and that was it.

He seemed sad and angry though and despite your anxiousness around him, you continued “Everything alright? You seem upset. I know, I’m probably one of the last people you want to talk about personal stuff about, but you don’t have to suppress your emotions. I can get Josh, if you’d like.” He looked distressed by that idea

“No, please don’t, I love him, but I don’t want wise advice right now, I just want to be furious right now and if I had listened to his advice in the first place, none of this, would have happened.” he was tense and you were starting to feel nervous under his unwavering gaze “What do you mean Jake? What happened” “She cheated on me. My girlfriend cheated on me, with Kyle. Guess we have to find a new drummer now, but he’s been an asshole for a while now anyway, this just cemented it”.

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

A/N: Of course this story isnt done yet. the next chapter, we´ll find out how Kallie reacts and if they can finally keep a conversation going and why Jake has been avoiding Kallie

#fanfic #greta van fleet #gvf #secret santa #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka

[inkrabbit]

the papas reacting to meeting your parents for the first time??? tbh probs comedy GOLD

Papa Emeritus I:

he's bristling the second he sees them

don't let them near his garden don't let them near his garden don't let them

tries to be professional and calm, but he's still giving off an intimidating aura

it's not his fault. he's just... not impressed. you get it? you get it

will shake their hand, but he's wiping his hand off on his robe after he's done

he'll give them a tour of the abbey and give them the rundown of everything. he's very proud of it all

please please make sure your parents don't say anything that will upset him. his ghoul is still by his side and they're not happy anyway

absolutely dares them to try and disrespect him or his practice in his own domain. he's pushing his 60s but he's still ready to throw down and he will win

Papa Emeritus II:

lets out a very disinterested hum

just stares at your parents when they hold out their hand for a handshake

they're not getting a handshake. they're not even worth his time but he promised you that he would behave

he's keeping up that gentleman imagine but don't expect him to be overly welcoming. they're lucky they even get to meet him

keeps his ghouls on standby. for now. if either of them step out of line, he lets his ghouls correct them

absolutely takes each and every opportunity to talk about you, whether it's praising your work in the abbey or your work in the bedroom

he has no shame. in fact, he hopes it's enough to never have to see them again

you have to give him extra love after they're gone. with such an experience, he's going to need payment for being so good

Papa Emeritus III:

less impressed than his brothers, but he doesn't let it show

still his charming self, kissing both of their cheeks

it's an Italian thing and he hopes they don't know about it and he hopes it makes them uncomfortable

makes sure a hand is on you at all times. don't you even think of moving it. he'll have a fit later if you do

you know he's gloating about his grammy too. they don't like his music? tough shit. they're wrong

he's full of backhanded compliments and he's smiling so sweetly as he says them too. and yes, he's saying a lot of nasty things in Italian. let him have his fun

will 100% invite himself over for dinner when they're about to leave, and he's not taking no for an answer. they can't escape him

Papa Emeritus IV:

he doesn't want to meet them. not because he doesn't like them, but because he's nervous

what is he meant to say? you think he's ever met parents like this before? if anything, Sister Imperator has met them. he doesn't wanna do this

but through his fear and panic attacks, he's the definition of a gentleman, welcoming them warmly

he may or may not had done that stupid fistbump/handshake thing. don't bring it up. he doesn't wanna talk about it

Aether is also accompanying you two on the tour through the abbey. he's here as emotional support and he's being such a sweetheart

Copia also might've mixed up your parents' names a few times. we're also not gonna talk about that

absolutely gushes over you and the work you do, though he's still using the pet names he's given you

please reassure and cuddle him after. he feels like an idiot and like he messed everything up

Young Papa Nihil:

oh honey. oh honey

he's talking all that good shit and he's unfiltered too

you see now where Terzo gets his insults and disgusted look from

100% has Ares by his side, still in human form but unmasked, just to send a message

assures your parents that you're safer by his side than you could be anywhere else (and he's looking your parents up and down too with a disgusted look)

reminds them constantly to not put their grubby hands on anything and, no, he won't be answering questions about the "ghouls". it's none of their business

makes sure he keeps you close to him, and he's not scared to get a little handsy with you

he's nice when they're leaving, but he reminds them not to return unless they're ready to change their religion and join the abbey

#requests #primo #secondo #terzo #copia #nihil #ghost #ghost band

[notnahoya]

- p 1 h a r m o n y -

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ first kiss...

warnings : none !!

AN : Im very sorry ive been gone for so long, ive been very busy !! please request, i need ideas !!

🍙.... theo

you and theo had been at the fair all day, it was night now, you guys went on the faris wheel, theo had looked at you and smiled, "what? is something wrong?" you said looking back at him, he shook his head no. you and theo have been dating for a few months but you guys never actually, kissed or even really hugged each other. you guys had been talking about how your date went. you had this sparkle in your eyes that he loved so much, he wanted to kiss you so bad. "can i kiss you?" he said, with a look on his face that said he was being serious, "if you want to, you can" you said smiling. you were about to start talking when you felt his lips on yours, his lips were plump and soft like you imagined, and his lips fit perfectly with yours, you pulled away and looked at him. he just smiled and looked away. "why did you wanna kiss me?" you asked just wondering why he did it, "no reason, just felt like it" he said looking at you, you guys slept at your own dorms that night, but the warmth of his lips left a mark on you....

🍙.... keeho

you had been dating keeho for exactly 5 months, you had always wondered what it would be like to kiss him, his lips always looked so plump and soft. keeho invited you over to his dorm cause he wasn't busy that day, of course you went over. you got over there around 5PM and you guys just talked and cuddled each other, you guys were always busy and never got to see each other. you guys had just got done eating and went back to his room and started listening to music, "hey, do you ever just stare at people's lips? just like cause they look so soft and plump and nice to touch or kiss" you said hoping he'd get the hint, he did, he leaned down and kissed you, the kiss sent electric waves through your body, it was so magical. "there." he said knowing you had been staring at his lips all day long, you smiled and blushed a little, you cuddled up into each other's embrace and fell asleep

🍙.... jiung

you and jiung were at the park and it was around sunset, "the sunset is pretty, not as pretty as you though" he said smiling, "god, your so cheesy" you said with a laugh, you guys were talking, just watching the sunset. you were telling him about your family. he was staring at you lips "can i kiss you?" he asked holding your hand, you didn't answer, you just went in and kissed him, his lips were so soft, you never thought they would be, but they were. you guys went back home and watched a movie

🍙.... intak

you and intak went to the mall, not for anything in particular, just for fun. "ooo, this looks nice, im gonna try it on!" you said grabbing a dark red dress and heading to the dressing room. you put it on and realized that it was rather tight, showing your curves. you walked out of the dressing room "intak look!" you said with a big smile, intak looked up from his phone "woah..." he said looking at your curves, he got up, walked you to somewhere more private and kissed you. you were shocked at first but eventually you kissed back, when he pulled away he was very flustered. "what was that for?" you said with a small laugh, "you look good in that dress" he said with a slight blush on his cheeks. he paid for the dress and you guys went home.

🍙.... soul

you and soul had went to the store, cause soul wanted to do some painting that day. you guys went home and laid the paint out in yard and set out the paint and canvases, "soul, im gonna go get changed, okay?" you said so he knows where your going to be. you went and got changed into some old clothes from school. when you went back outside to see soul covered in paint. "oh, hey Y/N" he said standing up "soul, dont you even think about it" you said backing away from him, he some how sneaked his way behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, "to late" he said with a big smile, "soul please let me go!" you said squirming around to get out of his grip, "only if you give me a kiss" he said, he had been wanting to ask for a kiss for so long, but was to shy. "promise you'll let me go if i do?" you said not believing him, he nodded. next thing he knows your lips are on his, he was shocked so he didn't kiss back automatically. once you pulled away, he was shocked that you acted like nothing happened. he let go and you guys decided that you guys were done for the day, and went inside.

🍙.... jongseob

you and jongseob had went to the skate park. "jongseob, im gonna fall!" you said standing on his skateboard trying not to fall, even though you were holding onto his arms for dear life. "no you wont, i promise" he said reassuring you that you wouldn't fall. he instructed you on what to do in order to ride the skateboard, after maybe 30 minutes of falling flat on your butt, you finally were able to keep your balance. "jongseob, look!" you said ridding the board with ease, "good job! are you ready to go home?" he said but you didn't hear a word he said, you were so happy that you ran up to him and kissed him. the kiss lasted for maybe 1-2 minutes. you pulled away, "sorry.." you said looking down, "no, your okay! i liked that!" he said smiling, "really?!" you said, he nodded. you guys walked home and stayed at home the rest of the day.

hi my lovelys! please enjoy this! i hope you guys stay safe and drink and eat!

#notnahoya #p1harmony #p1h fluff #kpop fluff #theo #keeho #jiung #intak #soul #jongseob #stan p1h #request

[kal-lyp-so]

tokyo's 2024

here i am on my last day in tokyo, crying and writing this to you.

My dear cruelest heart i have ever known, i am not sure if it was you who broke me or maybe it is me.

i came to this city hoping maybe, just maybe. i get to meet you and i hesitated at first if i should really text you or not, but i know i'd probably regret not doing it at all so i did.

the only reason why i hesitated is that im so scared of you saying no or just ignore me. in a way, killing the only hope i had.

but either way, the hope was only there to help me realised that my life is definitely not a movie or as magical as i hoped it would be.

ive been keeping it inside because again my love, im still alone.

to my dearest peeta, i know you would probably never care but i couldnt betray the love i have for you. it was really beautiful. and to you, it was just another short discovery or maybe just an experience. you probably would never ever remember me on any random day and unlike you, whatever i do, you're on my mind every second. i'd still imagine we were together and that's the only way for me to stay calm and just pretend my life is okay.

i dont know how my life was ruined by something so genuine and so beautiful. Truthfully, i am too; very very scared to care and love someone not because i cant do it, but because it was one and done for me.

I told you so many things and promised you alot too, unlike you, ive never broken my promises.

Sayang, it hurts so much knowing that youre only a monster to me and nobody else.

As much as i would like to ask god, again and again, to let me have you back, i dont think id ever get you.

ive tried everything and still failed. maybe that is it.

and i dont think whatever success get fix my shattered heart.

funny how most of the songs talked about how they regret hurting or maybe how angry they are after being hurt,

why cant i listen how is it being perfect and fitting and nice and genuine; basically being the best human version of themselves and still getting hurt by other people.

other people said that its your loss. is it?

why dont i feel happy? why do i still cry though it is your loss?

your loss somehow feels like mine as well. and i wish i can prevent that from happening but you and i are so different.

its not like moon or sun type of difference, it ups and downs type of difference. its dishonest vs genuiness. its not yin and yang because they balance each others out, you and i are just wrong. to you of course because you were the one who chickened out.

my sweetest monster, please help me. i dont know how to get over you. why do i love you still? i want to stop but they keep coming back. I am so alone right now and im very strong. but i need you.

and i wish i dont need you. because people like you, dont deserve people like me. not the other way around. you are the type to always win by hurting people, by being selfish and arrogant. Sure, i can so too but its not fun nor nice.

i figured that maybe i really need to not only let it go, i need to force myself to walk away. but walking away doesnt mean im going to walk my new path with someone new. sometimes i'd wish or imagine im walking with you but just that. that tiny piece of imagination will make me happy. though i'll realised that it's not real, but i'd do anything just to survive.

im trying to survive, still far away from living.

sometimes i imagine us working at a same place so i could just see your reaction to seeing me, sometimes i imagine id meet you maybe when im traveling somewhere. but let's be real, from japan to south korea and now back in japan, we still couldnt meet. you didnt want us to meet and its just that.

i will still cry whenever i think about you and missing you.

i will still wish and forever wish with whatever hope that was left in me that you'd come back. but my reality is far more greater than my silly imaginations. they used to be smaller but look where it got me.

i will still imagine and wish that im watching Brooklyn-99 with you and would laugh and talk why the scenes were funny as if you're listening.

i'd still imagine going to the cinema with you because that was what we promised to do.

whenever i eat my butter scones, i'd think about you because you used to care about that.

whenever i listen to music, id think whether you would like the song or not because i like it and im hoping that you'd like it too.

but one day, when i stop imagining, there could only be two possible explanations.

i've outgrown my emotions

i have died

i really really wish that i dont have to go through this pain in my entire life. it sucked my soul. all the pretty parts thats left and ive managed to protect growing up; they got destroyed just like that.

you were so impulsive and im scared of that now. you were so so arrogant. the attitude.

why cant you talk to me how i talk to you? why cant you talk to my like how you talk to strangers? did i hurt you? no. you said it wasnt me but it was actually you.

then why did you make me the villain?

this will be my last time i will ever visit tokyo for traveling; this time it hurts me so so much. i dont think you understand how much it hurts and you'd never will understand my pain.

and i refused to allow others to fix what you have broken. i refused to give them the same chance i gave you.

I came here for you and i left without you.

I pray you happiness, best health, and a sense of security. this way you'd never have to lie or pretend anymore.

its a shame that i have met you. its embarrasing that i have showed you my flaws. its scary how i care too much too.

i will stop praying that i want you or anyone. its better being alone than having to deal with this pain again.

id cry being alone and yet it is still better than crying because i want someone who doesnt ever think or care about me.

he didnt even love me. and i gave him my whole heart.

he didnt love me.

kalypso, 18th feb 2024.

[spencersawkward]

*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed! 

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best. 

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him. 

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't. 

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh. 

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals. 

"you should bring one of your other friends." 

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world. 

"I thought that was just me." he says. 

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?" 

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep. 

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up. 

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't. 

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other. 

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open. 

"yeah?" 

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift. 

"I could hear your breathing change." 

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds. 

"I wanted to say goodnight." 

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.  

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound. 

"now I can't because you made it weird." 

"how did I make it weird?" 

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?" 

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated. 

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.  

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours. 

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do. 

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship. 

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing. 

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs. 

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate. 

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge. 

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart. 

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it. 

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over. 

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again. 

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing. 

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest. 

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things. 

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath. 

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars. 

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most. 

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle. 

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out. 

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull. 

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate. 

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head. 

he definitely has a concussion. 

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway. 

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun." 

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold. 

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor. 

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious. 

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know. 

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank. 

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key. 

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could. 

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called. 

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else. 

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed. 

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.  

"hi." 

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here. 

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me." 

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second. 

"Y/N, I'm really fine." 

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed. 

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully. 

"sounds like a nightmare." 

"it is." he cracks up. 

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?" 

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too." 

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm. 

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter. 

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her." 

"oof." you wince. 

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did. 

"yeah." he avoids your gaze. 

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard. 

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares. 

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder. 

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking. 

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret. 

"you already said that." 

"shut up." 

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks. 

"whatever. you care about me, too." 

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you." 

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums. 

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas. 

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud. 

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you. 

"were you thinking about anything in particular?" 

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.  

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care. 

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you." 

"like?" now you're intrigued. 

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down. 

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?" 

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um." 

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be. 

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you." 

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal. 

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed. 

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you." 

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more. 

your heart swells. 

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder. 

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way. 

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look. 

"I'm in love with you, too." 

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod. 

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable. 

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it. 

"I'd say so, yeah." 

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9. 

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly. 

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead. 

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before. 

never like this. 

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his. 

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact. 

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans. 

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in. 

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection. 

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you." 

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer." 

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you. 

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other. 

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast. 

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material. 

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god." 

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too. 

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now. 

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow. 

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.  

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..." 

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth. 

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans. 

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down. 

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully. 

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like." 

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop." 

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines. 

"mhmm." 

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something." 

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers. 

"I'm a virgin." you say. 

Spencer frowns. "really?" 

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful." 

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry. 

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence. 

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?" 

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency. 

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts. 

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands. 

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face. 

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you. 

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.  

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back. 

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting. 

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly. 

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop." 

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort. 

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock. 

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it. 

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin. 

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect." 

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum." 

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too." 

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement. 

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan. 

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high. 

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions. 

you collapse fully, him still inside. 

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it. 

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out. 

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird. 

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy. 

"we should try multiple times." 

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?" 

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?" 

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate. 

"yeah." 

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg​ 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #baby spence #mgg #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

[edna-skiffens]

The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

Lmk if you want to be on my tag list

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland hc #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom Holland #tom holland x y/n #nurse!tom #nurse!tom au #nurse!tom Holland #nurse!tom x patient!reader #sick!reader #edna skiffens writes #writing #my writing

[hellbabyfromhell]

i unfollowed you, not because i dont like you, but rather because you have such trans girl swag that i just followed you for like... years without realizing you're not transfem and we have nothing else in common. i truly wish you the best of course but like... to me you're just some person walking around making posts and stuff.

ok?

it honestly bothers me that you followed me for years and you didnt like the content of my character or anything ive done and decided to now send me this saying “im just some person walking around making posts” because i didnt fit your image of who you thought i was. and it was entirely contingent on my gender and not any other thing about me? i am not a transfem, youre right, but 1. you also really dont know my history with gender and 2. its shitty that you went out of your way to tell me you were uninterested in any aspect of my personality other than my gender for years apparently. and you felt the need to inform me that you’re unfollowing me because i don’t fit your mental image of me….

you are just some person who treats people on the internet like they arent real, because you only care about a fictionalized image of them. you are like some person who thinks their opinion of someone is so important that they have to decree theyre unfollowing me in their askbox. im sorry you dont like me for who i am, but i guess i prefer that you’ve unfollowed because i dont want to be seen as someone else, someone imagined. (i think in some ways this is why perfect blue is so important to me) i want to be, i AM me, and thats all i can be. i am just some person walking around and liking myself (new development!) and sometimes other people do too, because of who i am as a person. this sort of thing drags me down, especially when i see it first thing in the morning, because it really bothers me when people send me these presumptuous and sometimes rude asks because they don’t think about the feelings of the person that theyre sending it to. so i guess all in all, if you are the kind of person who sends this sort of message, i truly wish you the best of course but i’d rather that people who actually like me for me follow me. i am a person, anon. this is really dehumanizing. in the future, please treat fellow internet denizens as human beings with feelings.

on that note, im sorry im replying to this and not my nice asks. this is kind of an anomaly and i don’t get stuff like this often. the nice asks, i like to keep them and look at them. honestly, sometimes when im at my lowest, i read them, and its like exp or spore food bits in the first stage. i truly appreciate how kind people are to me from the bottom of my heart. ive done a lot of work trying to bring myself back from having a horrible self image, because for so long i couldnt stand myself, and when i get a nice ask, its like adding a plate of armor to my knight-suit. i am feeling stronger than ever, and i appreciate and love every message and reply with all my heart. idk how to reply to replies sometimes but i read them all and they stay in my back pocket. i wish i could Like the replies. i just really appreciate how kindly people treat me and i cannot thank you enough. ive been through really tough shit the last 6 years and the dust is finally settling and everything is looking like itll be okay, and im touched whenever i get a kind message, because im grateful, truly, for people who have seen my highs and lows, failures and triumphs, and are so unrelentingly supportive. i wish i could express genuinely how much it means to me from the bottom of my heart. there are times when people here treated me much kinder than i would ever allow myself to at the time, and i really can’t explain how much it meant and still means to me. so thank you, a million times thank you. i started crying writing this part lol. i am just very beyond appreciative that i so infrequently have negativity on my blog. thank you to all the people who have stuck with me and sent me such kind things. i hope to keep making stuff and doing things and i hope it’ll entertain you and make you happy as much as doing those things makes me happy. lets be happy all together! thank you.

#sorry for the brick

[hangovercurse]

Nothing

Part i of the Without You series: When Colson and Megan break up, the boys count on Y/N to piece Colson back together, which only leads to disaster.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Colson being kind of a dick, cursing, a little bit of aggression/ violence. This one’s definitely angsty.

A/N: This was supposed to be just a one part fic. Then that turned into 2 parts. And then 3. And then all of a sudden I had written 5 parts and over 10,000 words. Enjoy 😊 (also this is v unedited so if you see a mistake... mind ya business)

Word Count: 2084

| ii | iii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

When you got the text from Rook, you knew it was probably gonna be bad. 

Megan just left him, for good. Not gonna be pretty the next few days so maybe don’t come by anytime soon. 

Your heart broke for your best friend. Colson had been really in love with Megan. And as much as you hated seeing them together for your own personal reasons, you could tell he was really happy. 

Ok. Let me know if you guys need me. If it gets bad I can take Casie for a few days. Take care of him for me pls. 

You and Colson had been friends for years now. You knew almost everything about each other, you told him everything. He let you crash at his place after your ex kicked you out, and you had spent many hours curled up with him, watching stupid movies to distract him from his most recent breakup or mental breakdown. 

But this was different. Colson told you he wanted to marry her at some point, and you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn’t blame him. As much as you hated no longer being the only women (other than Casie) in his life, you couldn’t dislike Megan. She was just one of those people who everyone loved. 

The thought of texting Colson crossed your mind, but you weren’t sure if it would hurt or help. From the sound of it, he was a wreck.

So, naturally, you texted Pete. 

Have you talked to Cols yet?

With Colson came Pete, or came you, you weren’t really sure. Somewhere along the way you and Pete had become close friends. He was like the older brother you’d never asked for, and he would probably say something similar about you. 

You couldn’t really explain it, Pete could read you like a book. And because of that, he knew everything. He was the only one to catch on to the way you sometimes looked at Colson for too long, or got irritated when he’d bring a new girl around. 

I’m heading over there right now. You should talk to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Not sure that’s the best idea. You guys are better at handling... all that. Once he gets a little less angry then I’ll take him. 

Pete texted you back a few minutes later.

Thanks for the support, kid. I’ll keep you updated. Just pulled in.

Good luck, Petey.

You tossed your phone on your bed, a sigh leaving your lips. You decided worrying was a problem for another day.

No more than 12 hours later you were getting a phone call from Rook. 

“Dude it’s like 4 in the morning, why are you calling me.” 

“Y/N, we’ve tried everything. He’s locked up in his room and every time one of us tries to talk to him he blows up. Literally he almost punched Slim a few hours ago.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning at the predicament. “So now you want me to come over?” You asked, “What do you think I’m gonna be able to do?”

“Well he’s not gonna try and hit you for one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s significantly nicer to you than to anyone else.”

“What do I even say to him? “Sorry that the love of your life broke up with you but at least we can smoke pot and watch Spongebob?” I mean come on, man. I’m not good at this.”

“Please.” He pleaded, “We’re all out of options and I can’t stand to see him get any worse than he is.”

You moved off your bed and towards your dresser. “Fine, I’ll be there in 15.” 

You threw on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and slipped on shoes, grabbing your key and heading out the door.

True to your word, you pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, parking on the side of the street and heading straight into the house. When the guys saw you, they visibly brightened up. 

“You guys are such fucking wimps.” You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the stairs. 

Baze chuckled, “We love you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, stopping by Casie’s room to see if she was asleep. To your surprise, she wasn’t. 

“Hey sweet girl,” you whispered as you entered her room, “why are you still up?”

She smiled a little when she saw you. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m really worried about Dad.” 

You leaned on her doorframe, sending her a sad smile. “I am too. But he’ll be okay. Your dad’s pretty tough.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but he really liked Megan.”

“Did you?” You ask, trying to gauge her emotions. 

“I mean, I guess so. She was nice to me. Most of his girlfriends aren’t that nice to me.” 

“That’s a pretty shitty way to measure if you like someone or not.” She giggles at that. “Don’t tell your dad I said that word in front of you.”

“Ok. She was nice. And she made him happy so, yeah, I guess I liked her. Not as much as I like you but...” Casie’s voice got higher as she dragged out the last word and you just rolled your eyes with a chuckle. 

Casie had this fantasy of you and Colson getting married one day, but you always told her it would never happen. 

“Ok kiddo, whatever you say.” You teased her, “try and get some sleep, okay?” 

She nodded with a smile. “Are you gonna go talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay? If you need to come over and talk or stay the night or anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” She said quietly. 

“Love you too, Case.”

You shut the door to her room, moving down the hallway to Colson’s door. You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and knocked. 

“I told you guys to go the fuck away.” A muffled yet angry voice said from the opposite side of the door.

“It’s me, Cols. Y/N.” You said, hoping he could hear you. 

When you got no response you asked, “Can I come in?” 

A few more seconds of silence followed, and then the lock clicked and the door opened. You stood face-to-face with your best friend. His hair was a mess, falling in his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and the frown he wore made him look even more pathetic. You felt your heart breaking. 

As you met his eyes, you gave him a sad smile. “Hey Cols.” 

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. 

He started walking backwards, pulling you with him as he continued to hug you. One of his hands pushed the door shut and he sat on his bed, finally letting go of you. 

You looked down at him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your own. It was something you had done before, you two were very touchy people and so half of your friendship was just you two cuddling or play fighting or holding hands.

“So we can do one of three things,” you started, “We can talk about it, we can cuddle and watch something stupid and pretend nothing’s wrong, or we can get high and do something stupid.”

For the first time in what you would imagine to be all night, Colson smiled. it was a very small smile, but you took it. 

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “And by stupid you mean...”

You rolled your eyes, “I mean we can go set off bottle rockets in the backyard or try to jump off your roof and into the pool.” 

“Oh damn. I was hoping you were gonna say you would suck my dick.” 

Your eyes widened at his bluntness and the implication. You shoved his shoulder, “Colson! That’s gross!” You giggled, but his expression was unwaveringly serious. 

“I’m being serious.” He deadpanned and you furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Colson what the fuck?” Your mind was spinning trying to figure out if he was joking. 

You got your answer when he stood up, grabbing your waist and leaning over you. “I thought you’d want to...” 

You took in a breath at the sudden proximity, trying to back away from him but his grip remaining firmly on your waist. “Colson, stop. Please. This isn’t funny.” 

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. He’s drunk, and sad, and doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

“I thought you’d want to, cause it’ll make me happy. And you’ll do anything to make me happy.” One of his hands reached up and grabbed your jaw, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“Colson you’re being a fucking weirdo, let me go.” You raised your voice. Your heart was racing at this point and the thoughts flowing around your head were not pretty. 

You were always anxious for the day he’d figure you out. When he’d finally realize how you felt for him. But this was worse than anything you’d thought of. 

“You’ll do anything to make me happy because you love me, right?” 

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, wanting nothing more but to look away from his sinister expression. The way he was looking at you made it very clear that he was enjoying your discomfort, your embarrassment. 

“Colso-” 

He walked forwards, pushing you gently against the wall. His arms went to either side of you, his face inches from yours. You tried to look away, but his hand on your jaw forced you to face him.

Any other time you would have loved for Colson to pin you against his wall, but this was wrong. 

“Just say it. Say you’re in love with me, and I’ll drop it.” 

“Colson, what the fuck are you on right now?” You tried to steer the topic away from you, but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Say it.” 

You reached up to try and push his chest away from you, but he was much taller and stronger than you, so you did nothing. 

“Just tell me!” He yelled at your silence. A tear slipped down your cheek as you trembled under him. His face was red and his eyes were watering. 

 “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. This all felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“Because I need to know if she was right.” His voice got a little quieter, but he still wouldn’t move away from you. “I need to know if the reason the love of my fucking life just left me is true.”

You were shaking, your breaths getting shorter. “What are you talking about.” Your words were choked. The grip on your jaw started to get a little too tight.

“I defended you!” He yelled, tears falling from his face. “She told me that you were in love with me and I defended you.”

“Colson you’re hurting me.” You whined, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He ignored your statement and continued talking, but his grip loosened slightly.

“And then she told me that she thinks I’m in love with you.” His voice was getting darker. “And that’s why she left. So I want to make it very clear to you.” He paused, leaning closer to your ear. “I will never love you. Ever. Not now, not in a million lifetimes. You mean nothing to me.”

Your vision was blurry from your tears, so you blindly reached out to push him away from you. His body seemed to have given up, as he moved backwards out of your way, stumbling slightly. Through your tears you could make out a smug smile on the man before you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You ran down the stairs, the guys waiting for you to give them good news, but their hope turned to concern once they saw you. You walked straight past them towards the door, not trusting yourself to say anything without breaking completely.

As you reached for the door handle you heard a faint yell from upstairs, followed by loud banging, and then silence. You sniffled, turning the handle and leaving the house, much to the protest of your friends.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker angst #est #xx

[juseki-taisen]

Ive watched the anime and that was some good shit right there. the mix of 3-D and 2-D animation is wonderful too! I would love to know how the 12 would treat their recently transitioned or in transition S/O because I hear “trans rights” coming from them

You bet your bottom dollar that they all scream TRANS RIGHTS!

Updated: Because I did Sharyu twice and forgot Nezumi. Sorry!

Inounoshishi

Dating Inounoshishi while transiting is actually ideal

Not only does she support you and whatever gender you want to be, but mama has money and is going to pay for it

You're her darling, why wouldn't she pay to keep you happy?

She's also going to take you shopping. She loves shopping and the idea of getting you a whole new wardrobe is to good.

Just be nice and say thank you, and show how much you appreciate her

Honestly? She never got to figure out who she really was/is as a person since she was always trying to please her parents. Seeing you figure out/announcing who you really are is really motivating for her.

Dotsuku

Doesn't have a problem with it.

May occasionally slip up on your pronouns, but always corrects himself immediately. After a week? Doesn't mess up again

Dog. Loyal. He's not about to let something like you being who you really are affect what he thinks of you.

Added bonus: His daughter just rolls with it. Kids aren't as stupid as people make them out to be. If you used to be a princess/prince, you're now the opposite. The real question is, what kind of super hero cape do you want?

Dostuku will help with your medical bills. If doctors give you shit for it, the man has connections. He will find a good doctor who respects you and get your surgery (if you so choose) taken care of

Niwatori

The whole idea of being trans is a little confusing at first for her, but it takes about 000.1 seconds for her to decide it doesn't really matter?

Her whole life she's been a tool for the family, with you she's a person. In the end, no matter how you identify, as long as you still love her that's what matters?

Does a TON of research. She gets books, medical journals, ect. She uses her contacts to find doctors for you, and don't worry. Cost isn't an issue.

Anyone who tries anything just...vanishes. You know from that weird smile she gets she 110% had something to do with it

If you ever feel ad or dysphoric about your body, she's very supportive.

Sharyu

She already knew. She's very perceptive, and was just waiting for you to be comfortable telling her.

The most supportive.

Does whatever she can to make you comfortable. If you want new cloths, she'll shop with you. If you're to embarrassed to go to a store, she'll order online.

Never uses the incorrect pronouns for you.

Will put one of those little trans flags in the window of her apartment.

If there's a pride event, will go with you.

Arranges a good doctor for your transition when you're ready, and will go to appointments if you're nervous

Hitsujii

He's old, and has seen it all. He may be older, but he's not going to question it.

One of those "Whatever makes you happy" people

Doesn't understand a lot of surgery details and hormone stuff. He'll try to research it, but you may have to help him learn terminology. He does catch on fast

The idea of surgery freaks him out because he has no control. He’d help you, but he is going to be silently panicking on the inside

Uuma

Actually really cool with it? Just tell him you still love him. The first thing he worries about is that you’re going to become this amazing you, and the you that loved him wont love him anymore

Really supportive? Doesn’t know a lot about trans issues, but he tries

He will probably buy you anything with the trans flag on it. 

If you have surgery, he’s going to make sure only the BEST doctors do it

Listens when you talk if you have feelings to get out. It just makes him really happy you’re confiding in him

Takeyasu

Trans? Cool. Fine. Help him pull off this heist

He really doesn’t care, if you’re happy he’s fine with it? 

Actually brings up frogs that can change their gender, and that there’s a species of lizards that reproduce without asexually. If reptiles do it, why can’t people?

Gives you money for surgery if you wanna get it. Worries through the entire thing, but only Nagayuki knows about his brother internal freak out

Also, shopping spree. Criminal shopping spree. grab and RUN

Has trouble using the correct pronouns, but tries really hard and corrects himself. 

Nagayuki

He already knew way before you told him. He’s perceptive, smart, and also finds your online content. Really, he was just waiting for you to tell him yourself

Probably gets you a tray of cupcakes with the frosting colored with the trans flag colors. He likes snacks, any excuse to get snacks and make you happy? Killing two birds with one stone

Master of your pronouns and possibly your new name

You know how hard it is to change your name? This dude hacks into the systems and does it in a night. 

Helps you get surgery if you want it. Not emotional about it, but will hold your hand if you want him to. 

Ushii

Help him. He doesn’t understand trans when you first bring it up, but when you explain it clicks

Now he is fully on board and ready

While he can’t keep up with a lot of LGBTQ+ terms, he supports you and what makes you happy. You want to be the gender you’ve always wanted? No problem. Just tell him what he needs to do

Has fought someone who purposely misgendered you before. 

Will take you shopping if you’d like

You want surgery? He knows people. Honestly? He’s so well known that the doctors are volunteering to make sure it gets done properly.

Never once messes up your pronouns.

Tora

She’s seen so much on the battlefield that when you tell her, she’s not that concerned. It’s great that you trust her, and she will support you but...You’re not going to leave her, right? 

Cuzz she loves you with all her heart and if someone like you can become every more yourself (and therefor more amazing) why would you stay with a screw up like her?

After she gets past her insecurities, Tore is very supportive of you

Has punched a guy in the face for being rude to you. Maye have started a street brawl over it, it’s fine. She won.

Surgery freaks her out no matter what is it, but she’s going to be there if you want it. She may just cry when you can’t see her. What if something goes wrong???

It wont and you’re fine but you wake up and she’s crying like a BABY

Usagi

This...is kind of a disaster? Not in the way you’re thinking

He gets all your pronouns right, and quickly is VERY excited to call you his new girl/boy friend. 

But uh...people may die...A lot of people

If he notices that people give you weird looks, they’re dead. He will FIGHT and MURDER people who are transphobic (but what’s the loss really?)

Loves to shop with you, and tries to pull things he thinks you’d like (probably kills people there too, RIP)

If you want the surgery, you have to do the research. Usagi doesn’t get it. HOWEVER he will help pay...sort of

“It’s expensive”

“Will this cover it?” Proceeds to pull out diamonds and gold bars, and...is that a rare species of monkey? WHERE DID HE GET A MONKEY?

How do you even exchange that for money?

Imagine going to pride with Usagi. 

Snuggling with Usagi if you have body dysphoria. Him not really understanding everything but 110% being willing to support you. 

Neuzmi

Already knew. Not a huge deal for him. 

Supportive, but really casual about it

He’s great with pronouns, and does use his ability a lot to try and make sure he doesn’t say something to make you uncomfortable

always quick to apologize if he does. 

#juni taisen #juuni taisen #juni taisen x reader #juuni taisen x reader #inounoshishixreader #inounoshishi x reader #dostukuxreader #dotsuku x reader #niwatorixreader #niwatori x reader #sharyuxreader #sharyu x reader #uumaxreader #uuma x reader #takeyasuxreader #takeyasu x reader #nagayukixreader #nagayuki x reader #ushiixreader #ushii x reader #toraxreader #tora x reader #usagixreader #usagi x reader #I hope this is okay!!

[morganaspendragonss]

Hey! I absolutely love your "the lovers that went wrong" fic - ive been back to reread it several times now because i think its such a good idea and I love the relationship with TK and his mum - if only the show could give us something as good as that! - I was wondering- only if you were interested, could you write something from Carlos' pov with his parents? maybe they can see that TK is more than a friend and they talk to Carlos about him and TK and why he's feeling insecure? if not np :)

thank you so much anon, that’s so sweet of you!! i love this prompt, too - god knows the show probably won’t show us carlos’s pov. it was my pleasure to write it.

a note on the spanish - technically, i do speak spanish but it’s still very much a word in progress, so if any spanish-speakers want to correct me then please do

ao3 | 1.6k | 2.04 spoilers

Carlos can feel TK's eyes burning holes into the side of his head, but he doesn’t look around. He doesn’t want to see the confusion and hurt he knows TK must be feeling - and if that makes him a coward, then so be it. His parents’ gazes are flicking between them, so Carlos distracts his mom by pulling her into a hug, grateful for the brief opportunity to hide his face. 

Behind them, his dad is shaking TK’s hand, and Carlos’s entire brain is screaming wrongwrongwrong. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Not like this. Not yet.

He’s not ready.

His mom pulls away and Carlos forces a smile back on his face. They stand in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, Carlos feeling like he’s being scrutinised.

Then, TK speaks. “It was great to meet you, Mr Reyes, Mrs Reyes,” he says, “but I should go. I told my dad I’d meet him and I’ll be late if I don’t leave.”

The lie rolls off his tongue, smoother than Carlos’s had, and Carlos dares a glance over. What he sees is so much worse than he imagined; to any other person, TK looks the picture of innocence, smiling kindly, eyes wide and bright. 

But Carlos knows him. He can see the tense set of TK’s shoulders, the way he’s subtly put more distance between them, the hurt hidden deep in his eyes. He feels sick with guilt, but there’s nothing he can do to fix it. Not here.

“I’ll drive you,” he offers, but TK firmly waves him off.

“No,” he says, jaw clenching minutely. “My dad’s place isn’t too far; I can walk.”

“But -”

“It’s fine.” 

Their eyes meet, and Carlos is suddenly hit with the force of what he’s done. Everything he’s been so scared of - TK deciding they’re not working, running away, Carlos getting his heart broken - all of that might happen now after all. 

And it’ll all be Carlos’s fault.

TK’s hand lands on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Carlos,” he mutters, and then he’s gone, striding back the way they came and taking half of Carlos’s heart with him.

“Is everything okay, mijo?” his mom asks, as Carlos keeps staring after TK even though he can’t see him anymore. 

Carlos doesn’t have an answer to that - the casual way they parted cut deeper than he’d ever thought possible, and he doesn’t know if it was just TK keeping up the act or his way of hurting Carlos the way he’d been hurt. Carlos wants to believe it’s the first one, but his less charitable side can’t help but wonder.

He can’t tell any of this to his mom, though, so he braces himself and turns back around, smiling. “Yeah, of course,” he says, surprised by how steady his voice is. “What are you guys doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Clearly,” his dad remarks, faintly amused, but before Carlos can figure that out, his mom is taking his arm and dragging him along with her.

“I was planning on making my chiles rellenos tonight, but your father forgot the chiles when he went shopping the other day.” She sends a reproachful look behind her, but the effect is offset by her fond smile. “You know they do the best ones here, so out we came. And here you are.”

“Here I am,” Carlos agrees through gritted teeth. He tries to extricate himself from her grip. “Look, mami, I don’t want to keep you. I’ll go, and you can -”

She stops suddenly, planting her hands on her hips. “I don’t see my only son for weeks, and the second we run into him, he wants to escape?” she demands. “No. You’re coming home with us, and you can help me with the food.”

“It’s hardly been weeks, mami,” he says weakly, knowing he’s already lost this argument. When Andrea Reyes makes up her mind, nothing can sway her.

“Psshh, details.” She waves her hand dismissively and takes his arm again, leaving Carlos no choice but to follow her to their car. He directs a wordless plea for help back at his dad, but he just holds his hands up, shaking his head. 

“Your mother’s right, you know,” he says. “We barely see you these days. Give us the afternoon, at least.”

Which is how Carlos ends up in his mother’s kitchen, silently helping her prepare chiles rellenos and trying not to wallow in his grief over TK.

He fails miserably - miserable being the operative word.

His mom is being suspiciously silent, and if Carlos had any energy left, he would call her out on it. He knows they’re going to end up having a discussion at some point, but he’s in no mood to provoke it. Easier just to let her initiate it herself.

“That boy at the market,” she starts eventually, far too casually for Carlos’s liking. “What was his name again?”

“TK.”

She hums. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

He sighs heavily. “We’re friends, mami,” he reminds her wearily, the lie coming easier this time, which is something he really doesn’t want to read in to.

“I never suggested otherwise,” she says. “He seemed nice.”

“He is.”

She sighs, clearly fed up with his reticence, and sets her knife down. “¿Qué pasa, mijo?” she asks, turning to face him.

“Nada, mami, no pasa nada,” he insists, though he’s not entirely sure why he’s still bothering to lie.

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Carlos Reyes,” she says sharply, startling him. “Soy tu madre; te conozco. Now, I’ll ask again - what’s going on?”

He meets her gaze, seeing only warmth and concern there, and it nearly breaks him. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try me.”

Carlos bites his lip, deciding how best to break the news to her. He’s still not ready, not really, but he’s made his bed. Time to lie in it.

“I’ve met someone,” he hedges, trusting her to fill in the blank of TK’s name. “I’ve known him for a while, but we’ve only been seeing each other for the last four months.”

There’s a brief silence, then, “Why did you not tell us?” she asks, her tone gentle, not at all accusatory. “Is it not serious?”

He hesitates, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I don’t know,” he admits, half-whispering. “I don’t… He… I…”

Carlos shakes his head, giving up on speech. He doesn’t protest when his mom reaches up to draw him into an embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. 

“I’m scared, mami,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the tears fall. His mom holds him tight, rubbing comforting circles on his back as he shakes in her arms. 

They stay like that for a while, until she moves her hands to his shoulders and eases him away from her. “Why are you scared?” she asks. Her eyes narrow. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”

Carlos recoils at the thought. “No,” he says, the words bursting out of him in a half-shout. “He would never.”

“Then, what is it?”

He hesitates again, the thought of telling her everything suddenly very daunting. She clearly notices, as she reaches around him to push the half-prepared food away. Carlos’s eyes widen at that; his mom never stops cooking once she’s started. She smiles ruefully, then leads him over to the couch, pulling both of them down onto it. 

“Tell me.”

And Carlos does. He doesn’t divulge all of their long, complicated history, but he tells her enough for her to understand. He talks about TK’s reluctance to start anything, his own determination to try anyway. He talks about those days after TK got shot, and the solar storm, and that night under the stars when they finally agreed to give them a shot.

He talks about his fears that it’s all just a fantasy, that any day now the rose-tinted glasses are going to come off and TK is going to realise that he’s made a mistake, and Carlos will be left behind again. And he talks about his guilt for even thinking it, the way he wants so badly to believe that this is it.

Because, for him at least, Carlos is fairly sure that it is. He just wishes (hopes) the same is true for TK.

When he’s done talking, he glances hesitantly over at his mom. She’s watching him with a small smile on her face, her hand gently squeezing his knee.

“Oh, Carlos,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

He grimaces and nods. “I’ve ruined it all,” he says. “I hurt him, and now he’s never going to trust me again.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she admonishes. He frowns up at her, only to meet a spectacular frown of her own. “You’re going to go to him, right now, and explain everything like you’ve just done for me. He’ll listen, and if he doesn’t then clearly he’s not good enough for you.”

“He’s good enough, mami,” he says, cracking a small smile. “I don’t know where he is, though; he was lying when he said he had to meet his dad.”

“Then you’re going to go home and wait,” she says, matter-of-fact. “If half of what you’ve said is true, he’s going to want to talk just as much as you do.”

Carlos doubts that, but he supposes it’s as good a plan as any. He could call TK, but he doesn’t want to rush him. Better to let him decide when he wants to talk to Carlos - Carlos had been the one to hurt him, after all.

He leans into his mom’s side, smiling at her. “Thank you, mami.”

She kisses his temple. “Te quiero, my son. Now, go. If this boy is as good as you say, I’ll never forgive you for letting him go, let alone him.”

Carlos laughs, then gets to his feet and leaves his parents’ house, filled with a sudden determination to fix this.

He doesn’t think he could live with himself if he didn’t at least try.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star spoilers #lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #tk x carlos #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #userkimmy #tuserpaige #anonymous

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII /  Part VIII  / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

What the fuck was he thinking?

That was the first thought in Peter’s mind when he opened his eyes the next morning and remembered what he had done the night before. Agreeing to meet with a subscriber, really, how dumb was that? It was one of those things he did before bed when his brain was too slow to make good decisions and then the next morning there were consequences. Consequences. Peter couldn’t deal with fucking consequences, he was still struggling with the fallout of his other terrible life choices.

I should cancel, he thought, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to wake himself up.

He should definitely cancel. Right. It was only reasonable. He could tell Tony he slept on it and realized it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Or he could just say he was sick – for the foreseeable future. Or something. He would figure it out as he typed.

He sighed heavily and reached for his phone on the nightstand, pulling up his chat with Tony. He was going to call the whole thing off – he was! – but he made one crucial mistake. Before he started typing an excuse, he re-read the conversation from the night before. He didn’t understand why or how, but Tony’s words just – inebriated him, and by re-reading them, he was put under his spell all over again.

I need to see you, he said.

Not want. Not would like. Need. The word choice wasn’t lost on Peter, but he wondered if he was reading too much into it, if maybe Tony just said the first thing that came to mind without giving it much thought. But it couldn’t be casual, could it? Nobody would say they needed something casually.

Right? 

He pictured the older man holding him close, whispering in his ear, “I need to see you”, until, somehow, in his imagination, words got lost somewhere and it became, “I need you”. Peter shivered just thinking about it. He was sure his voice would exude power and confidence, he just knew it, he  wouldn’t be able to resist Tony’s commands, and yet–

Please.

He asked nicely. Peter was hyper-aware of the fact that the word “please” had an unreasonable and slightly concerning effect on him, he should probably talk to someone about that, but it just did. It fucking did. Tony could have demanded whatever he wanted – and embarrassingly, Peter would have probably said yes. He could have been an asshole about it, pushy, like some other people were, but no. He was…

I’ll treat you right.

Peter never stood a chance, he realized, sighing, letting his phone fall off his hand and onto the bed. That man knew exactly what he was doing, didn’t he? Peter wondered if he was that transparent, if anyone who talked to him for more than five minutes could see how needy he was, how badly he craved affection. If so, how embarrassing was that? A touch-starved porn star with feelings?

Ex-porn star, his brain supplied, and Peter rolled his eyes at himself. But still, technically, he was not a porn star anymore, he was more like… A model. A social media influencer? An adult entertainer. He could settle for that.

He picked his phone back up and looked at the chat, re-reading their conversation from the night before, over and over again. At least it didn’t seem like he thought Peter was a hooker – well, he hadn’t offered money, so Peter assumed he meant it as a casual meeting, not a business transaction. Nothing else has to happen, he promised. Nobody would ask a hooker out not expecting anything else to happen.

Right?

While he freaked out wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into, his phone beeped and vibrated in his hand, as he got a notification saying he had a text from an unknown number. He frowned, because not a lot of people had his number, but when he opened the text message, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“Hey, babe, it’s Quent. I saw you unblocked me on Instagram. Can we talk?”

He felt immediately dizzy, his vision blurred and his hands shook. His only reaction was to throw the phone as far away from him as he could, as if it was on fire. His throat closed up and breathing became harder, he thought he might suffocate, as he sat up on the bed and tried to take deep breaths. Deep breaths. Tried not to get lost in his –

“I can’t do this anymore, Pete,” was the first thing he said the minute the younger man walked out of the en suite bathroom, drying his hair with a towel.

“Do what?” He asked, confused, tilting his head to the side. He watched as Beck slowly got out of bed and walked to him. Peter noticed he wasn’t naked anymore, he had put on some pants and a t-shirt. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of the situation.

“This. Us.” He gestured between them and Peter stared at him for a few seconds, as the words flew around in his head, refusing to provide any meaning. After a couple of minutes, he laughed weakly, even though his eyes burned and his chest felt crushed. Beck’s expression remained impassive.

“You’re joking, right?” Even as he asked that, he knew in his heart that he wasn’t. His face fell when Beck simply shook his head. “Quent… What...” He didn’t even know what to say, what to ask. He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, trying to stop his eyes from watering, Beck hated it when he cried for no reason. “Listen, let’s just – let’s just talk about this, I’m sure–“

“There’s nothing to talk about, Peter, I’ve made up my mind. I’m sorry.” He took the two steps that separated them and ran a hand down the younger man’s wet cheek and Peter grasped it desperately, as if it could make him stay. “You’re immature, needy and quite frankly… a little boring for someone who gets fucked for a living.”

“I can do better, Quent, I can change, please don’t – don’t leave me,” he begged quietly, voice cracking, barely audible over the sound of his own sobs. Beck winced, pulling his hand away.“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please… Please, don’t leave me...” He shut his eyes tightly, trying to wake up from that nightmare. Just a few minutes earlier, everything was fine, they filmed a scene, Beck told him to get in the shower and the minute he walked back into the bedroom everything went to shit, how the fuck did that happen?  

“This is exactly what I’m talking about, Peter. Look at you, listen to yourself right now. It’s… Pathetic.” He looked at him like he was the saddest sight he had ever seen, a mixture of pity and disgust, annoyance and impatience. Peter remembered a time when he looked at him like he was  precious, like he was the most important person in the world… What went wrong? Where did he fuck up? How could he fix it?

“Quent, I-I – you’re all I–“

“That’s the problem, Pete,” he scoffed, shaking his head with an incredulous smile on his face. “I’m tired of being your everything, it’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.” He leaned against the wall next to the bedroom’s door, as Peter freaked out just a few feet away, thinking he was having an actual heart attack from how bad hearing that fucking hurt. “I don’t love you anymore.”

He was pulled from his memories when the doorbell rang and his heart jumped. Could it be him at the door? He couldn’t have found him, he had no idea where Ned and MJ lived – hell, he had no idea where Peter went, he didn’t even bother to ask. For all he knew, Peter could be living on the streets. He knew he had no money, no family, and he didn’t fucking care, he just fucking kicked him out, he barely gave him time to pack all of his things, his eyes were cold, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for Peter to leave. And he begged and kept begging, and–  

Fuck, he was losing it. He was going back to that dark place he had barely crawled out from just weeks earlier.

He took a deep, calming breath and shook his head, trying to get his emotions under control. It was not Beck at the door. He had no way of finding him, and Peter knew he wouldn’t even try to. The only reason he had to contact him was probably a job. He knew a lot of people in the porn industry would still try to book him through Beck, since he was his agent for so long. That was obviously the reason he was trying to reach out. Money. As always. That was all.

So he took another deep breath and walked slowly to the front door. When he checked the peephole,  Ned and MJ were casually standing outside, talking to each other like nothing was wrong in the world. He didn’t think twice and yanked the door open.

“Get dressed, loser, we’re going– what the fuck!?” MJ’s eyes almost jumped out of their sockets once she took a look at him. He knew he must look like garbage, he had no idea how he was even standing on his own two feet, he felt like his whole body was falling to pieces. He threw his arms around Ned, who was closest to him, and the older boy just pulled him close and let him bury his face in his neck, not missing a beat.

“Shh, it’s ok, buddy. Everything’s fine now.” He rubbed his back gently and Peter cried a little harder, a mixture of relief, sadness and regret filling his chest, leaving him confused and exhausted all at once. “Come on, let’s sit down for a minute. MJ, bring him some water, will you?” He pushed him lightly inside the apartment and directed him to the only piece of furniture in the living room, crouching down in front of him as MJ rummaged his tiny kitchen. “You ok, man?”

“I’m ok, I’m ok. It’s just… one of those days.” He forced a smile, trying to dry his face with the collar of his shirt. He didn’t want to tell them that Beck had tried to reach out, it would only cause them to worry unnecessarily. They were the ones who had convinced him to block his number, even if Peter insisted Beck would never call.

MJ hurried back from the kitchen and thrust a glass of water in his face, seeming a little nervous and completely out of her element. He realized that it was probably the first time they ever saw him in such bad shape, he didn’t have the energy to try to put up a strong front for them, which he always did, ever since he was a ten-year old boy. They had seen him cry before, of course, just probably not like that. Peter felt like shit and he knew he looked like it, too.

He drank the water that was offered to him just to have an excuse not to talk for a few seconds, as he tried to cool down and get himself back under control. MJ was fidgeting, standing beside Ned who was sitting on the floor, rubbing Peter’s knees comfortingly.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Ned asked, squeezing his leg, and he shook his head firmly.  

“No, thanks. I’m fine, really. Did you have plans for today?” He looked at his friends and noticed they both had their jackets on and looked ready to go out. It was, after all, a sunny Saturday morning. “I’ll go get dressed right now.” He tried to get up from the armchair but MJ placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, we can stay in, if you want.” She assured him, still looking a little freaked out, which was funny to watch. She was never very good at comforting people.

“No, that’s stupid, come on,” He got up, forcing Ned to do the same, and headed to the bedroom, but the older boy grabbed his arm before he could go too far.

“Don’t worry, c’mon, let’s go down to our apartment, at least we have a couch.”

Peter wanted to insist that he was okay to go out, but if he was honest with himself, he was... not okay. To do anything. And he didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

So he just nodded at his friends and followed them downstairs. Back at their place, he plopped down on the couch with MJ next to him, as Ned headed for the kitchen. He came back with ice cream and three spoons and Peter smiled weakly, appreciating the gesture.

“So… Bad day?” Ned asked sympathetically as Peter pretended to focus on the frozen desert.

“Bad day,” he answered, simply, with a small smile on his face, and his friend nodded in understanding.

“Did something happen or…?” He insisted and Peter stuffed his mouth with enough ice-cream to give himself a brain freeze, just so he could avoid talking for a while. He shrugged.

“No, just… Memories.”

“Of course,” MJ scoffed, as she stabbed the ice-cream with her spoon. “That asshole. I can’t believe he gets to be your first love. That fucking sucks.” Peter was sure MJ didn’t mean to make him feel bad – or rather, worse – but he hadn’t even thought about that yet. The fact that Beck was his first love. His first everything, really. Nothing could ever change that fact. He swallowed the lump in his throat with a spoonful of chocolate chip ice-cream. “Don’t worry, one day you’ll find a decent man who will show you what a healthy relationship looks like, you know. That perv deprived you of even that.” MJ shook her head and Peter sighed, wincing.  

“I don’t think I can find a decent man, MJ,” he mumbled, looking down at the ice-cream pint. “I’m a certified whore now. Imagine Prince Charming googling my name and finding my gang bang video, or the fisting one.” He scoffed, shaking his head. He didn’t dare to look up at his friends, he played with the melting ice-cream and shrugged. “I’m sorry for the mental image.” His face was burning red, he hated to talk about his videos with them, but they needed a reality check. He was pretty sure they never watched the videos, so they had no idea how bad the situation was.

“Good thing you’re not looking for Prince Charming, then, Cinderella.” She rolled her eyes. “You need a man who understands that sex is just sex, it doesn’t matter how many people you slept with, or if it was filmed or not. Besides, it was just a fucking job, like any other, people use their bodies to work. Writers use their hands, waiters use their legs, you used your ass, so-fucking-what?” MJ argued and she genuinely seemed to believe her own words, which made Peter laugh a little and feel relieved that his friend didn’t think badly of him. That made one of them.

The thing was, it was a beautiful speech, big words, great ideas, but none of it meant anything because it wasn’t real. He believed MJ thought like that, but most people didn’t. Most people would look at him differently knowing he used to do porn and knowing that he still did solo stuff on Just4Fans. They would think it was fine to fantasize about him, it was fine to jerk off to him, maybe it would even be fine to have sex with him casually, but have a serious relationship with him? Probably not.

He must have been distracted for a while and jumped up a little when he felt Ned’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, dude. Not everyone is that narrow-minded, you know. At the end of the day, it’s just porn. A lot of people do it, even more people watch it, it’s not that big of a deal.” Ned shrugged and Peter looked at him a little surprised. He didn’t look freaked out at all by what he said earlier, which – he didn’t think he would be rude or anything, he just didn’t expect him to be so cool about it.

He smiled at him and nodded.

Peter spent the rest of the day at their place and gradually started feeling a little more like himself, a little calmer. His head hurt from such a rough morning, but having his friends by his side helped a lot. They had pizza for lunch and binge watched a sitcom for seven hours straight, which helped keep all the intrusive thoughts at bay. Well, mostly.

When he got home that night, he picked up his phone that was still lying on the floor. The screen was cracked, but at least it was still working. He quickly blocked Beck’s Instagram and his new number before he could think twice about it, and only then did he notice there was a message from Tony waiting for him, from a few hours earlier.

“Hey, gorgeous. How’s your day? I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Can’t wait to see you.”

For some weird reason, reading that message soothed him. It should have freaked him out, sent him over the edge again, but it didn’t. He had forgotten all about the fact that he agreed to meet Tony, but he was glad he did. He felt exhausted from all the emotions he had to deal with all day long and he thought he didn’t want to do anything but sleep it off, but talking to Tony sounded like an even better idea somehow.

“Not so good, I’m a little tired, but I’ll survive. How was yours, daddy?”

He wasn’t surprised when he got an answer right away.

“I’m sorry to hear that, kitten. I’d give you a foot rub if I was there, would that help?” Peter couldn’t help but smile at that message, which was a little shocking to him, he thought he had lost the ability to do that hours ago.

“That would help a lot, daddy.” He sighed, rolling onto his side, burying himself under the covers. “I wish you were here.” He didn’t expect to mean it so much, not when he was talking to a virtual stranger, but Tony had such a weird effect on him when they talked. Peter felt like he knew him, like they were intimate, like he was safe. And none of that made any sense, but he couldn’t help it.

“I wish I were there, too. I’d take good care of you.” Fuck, and he kept saying those things. Those beautiful things that made his stomach turn and his head hurt and his heart go wild. He was so fucked. “Dinner’s still up? Does Thursday night work for you?”

“Thursday works fine. I’m just a little nervous.” He curled on his side, looking closely at the cracked screen. Immediately, Tony started typing an answer.

“Please don’t be, sweetheart, I promise you’ll have a good time. We’ll have a nice meal, some fine wine, a good talk. What’s not to like?” That was exactly what Peter thought the previous night, and it had made perfect sense in his head. When he woke up, though, it didn’t sound reasonable at all. And now there he was, hypnotized again by Tony’s charm.

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say or if it would be weird.

“Then, please, don’t worry. You can leave at any second if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“Okay.” He replied, worrying his bottom lip, working up the nerve to say what was on his mind. “Look, you know I’m not, like… a prostitute, right? Nor an escort. I just post dirty pictures online, which might be misleading, but I’m not a sex worker. I hope you know that.” There, he said it. He held his breath as he waited for Tony’s answer, who kept typing for what felt like ages.

“To be completely honest, no, I was not sure, and I didn’t want to offend you by asking, but this changes nothing. I didn’t ask to meet you for that, I hope you know. I just really need to see you in person. I like talking to you here, but I’d love to hear your voice, see your smile, make you laugh. I promise I have no ulterior motives.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Peter joked lightly, because it seemed like Tony always knew what to say to wrap him around his little finger.

“I am, baby, I promise. You’ll see.”

He was pretty sure he had heard similar promises before, beautiful words without any meaning. Still, for some reason, it wasn’t hard to believe him.

-x-

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

[mrsjadecurtiss]

Another ask, if you have the inclination: I've just been rereading Reek III with all that entails, and Theon thinks about 'the son is just the shadow of the father' re Roose and Ramsay. Do you believe that Roose can actually be as bad or worse than Ramsay at this point? He's got to be worse than average and his morals very lacking, but it's hard to imagine us being made to abhor him more than Ramsay in the remaining books. Is it just Theon's terrified paranoia, or do you think it can pay off somehow? 🤔 Or am I misinterpreting that line do you think?

Do you believe that Roose can actually be as bad or worse than Ramsay at this point? He's got to be worse than average and his morals very lacking [...].

This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. - Reek III, aDwD

This is no man to jape with. You had only to look at Bolton to know that he had more cruelty in his pinky toe than all the Freys combined. - Reek III, aDwD

I believe quotes like these refer to the effect of the cruelty they enact, rather than the specific crimes.

Ramsay is vile and cruel, enacting heinous violence upon people like a slasher movie villain. We do not have any evidence that Roose personally inflicts the same degree of crass violence upon people, as even in his presumably candid retelling of the miller's wife story, while a horrifying and inexcusable crime, he does not reach the extreme level of violence Ramsay inflicts upon smallfolk on the regular with his hunts and torturings.

"Roose Bolton's cold and cunning, aye, but a man can deal with Roose. We've all known worse. But this bastard son of his … they say he's mad and cruel, a monster." - Davos III, aDwD

The point, i believe, is not who produces the worst feats of violence, but rather another facette of grrms criticism of feudalism:

Would Ramsay even have a chance to do these heinous crimes if his father, who knows about everything, had an ounce of morality in him?

[Roose:] "All you have I gave you. You would do well to remember that, bastard." - Reek III, aDwD

Everything Ramsay has, his high position, the freedom to do all the crimes he wants, the protection from law that would have otherwise sent him to the wall in no time, he has because of his father's selfishness. Roose could have stopped these crimes from happening, he could have given Ramsay the appropriate punishment, instead he keeps Ramsay around because he feels like it...

Roose is at the top of his society, answering to barely anyone except his overlord and his king; so much power is at his fingertips, and yet he uses it for selfish reasons, commits crimes, allows crimes to happen in full knowledge, and everything is handled as it benefits him instead of abiding to morality or law. Every crime Ramsay does is Roose' responsibility as feudal lord and thus his crime.

"When soldiers lack discipline, the fault lies with their lord commander," his father said. - Tyrion VIII, aGoT

Roose is called the leech lord, and indeed he is a leech upon society, bleeding his people dry to his own benefit while not lifting a finger himself. While he is not a literal vampire, obviously parts of his character are a play on vampire myths, and the aristocratic bloodsucking vampire is frequently used as a metaphor for critique of the ruling class (i hear Fever Dream by grrm plays with this, though i have not read it). He might not commit a Texas Chainsaw Massacre in person, but that doesn't make him any less morally bankrupt and despicable, and he still has the same blood on his hands.

There is a tendency where Roose tries to lighten his crimes in conversation - here are three examples showing different facettes:

"The arrogance of it! They do not expect the north to believe their lies, not truly, but they think we must pretend to believe or die. Roose Bolton lies about his part in the Red Wedding, and his bastard lies about the fall of Winterfell." - Davos IV, aDwD

[Roose:] "Tell me, my lord … if the kinslayer is accursed, what is a father to do when one son slays another?" - Reek III, aDwD

[Roose:] "The maesters will tell you that King Jaehaerys abolished the lord's right to the first night to appease his shrewish queen, but where the old gods rule, old customs linger. The Umbers keep the first night too, deny it as they may. Certain of the mountain clans as well, and on Skagos … well, only heart trees ever see half of what they do on Skagos." - Reek III, aDwD

1. Denial of involvement - Roose frequently either escapes blame completely (for example for Duskendale), puts blame on someone else (like blaming Ramsay's bastard blood for Winterfell), or lies about his crimes to evade blame.

2. Selectively invoking law - using the kinslaying law, he pretends his hands are tied when it comes to Ramsay, even though he could for example also send him to the wall as punishment. He frequently breaks laws as he pleases and also took part in breaking sacred contracts such as guest right (red wedding), so him invoking law in this instance is likely a tool to absolve himself of blame during the conversation.

3. Comparing himself to others to lessen his own acts, after failing to escape blame - by bringing the Umbers etc into the conversation, he tries to make himself look less bad; "look, everyone's doing it, and the skagosi are probably even worse than me!"

As opposed to Ramsay, he is aware of how the severity of the crimes he is doing would be received by others. He likes to present himself as a rational and civilized man, and thus has an interest to downplay his criminal actions, even if he does not see anything wrong with them as he did them for his own benefit.

"No tales were ever told of me. Do you think I would be sitting here if it were otherwise?" - Reek III, aDwD

"That annoyed me, so I gave her the mill and had the brother's tongue cut out, to make certain he did not go running to Winterfell with tales that might disturb Lord Rickard." - Reek III, aDwD

As the Mormonts were bannermen to the Starks, [Jorah's] crime had dishonored the north. Ned had made the long journey west to Bear Island, only to find when he arrived that Jorah had taken ship beyond the reach of Ice and the king's justice. - Eddard II, aGoT

The foolish Ramsay tries to pride himself in his crimes; Roose however knows of the importance of optics. He is aware that he frequently breaks the law, and tries his best to keep his reputation intact as to not attract unwanted attention; especially with an overlord like Ned Stark, who would not handwave any crime and would make sure justice is served.

From what we can observe, in my opinion the difference between Roose and Ramsay is that Roose doesn't see anything wrong with comitting violence as long as the result is of a benefit for him, while Ramsay additionally also commits violence because he merely finds enjoyment in inflicting it, violence for violence's sake. This is why Roose is able to control himself and always gives Ramsay the advice to be restrained, but Ramsay is unable and unwilling to do so and his acts are much more extreme. Roose is likely starting to realize this difference by aDwD.

Is it just Theon's terrified paranoia [...]?

I do also believe Theon's statement is fueled by paranoia, if you look at the entire context:

"I mean you no harm, you know. I owe you much and more." - "You do?" Some part of him was screaming, This is a trap, he is playing with you, the son is just the shadow of the father. Lord Ramsay played with his hopes all the time. "What … what do you owe me, m'lord?" - "The north. The Starks were done and doomed the night that you took Winterfell." He waved a pale hand, dismissive. "All this is only squabbling over spoils." - Reek III, aDwD

Roose is not necessarily tricking Theon here since it appears to be a correct statement; And he does have an interest to be on friendly terms with Theon (offering him fresh clothes for example) because he wants to make use of his position as heir to the iron islands, a goal he expressed as early as a Storm of Swords.

"Flaying Theon will not bring my brothers back," Robb said. "I want his head, not his skin." - "He is Balon Greyjoy's only living son," Lord Bolton said softly, as if they had forgotten, "and now rightful King of the Iron Islands. A captive king has great value as a hostage." - Catelyn VI, aCoK

"Serve us in this, and when Stannis is defeated we will discuss how best to restore you to your father's seat," his lordship had said in that soft voice of his, a voice made for lies and whispers. Theon never believed a word of it. - The Prince of Winterfell, aDwD

Note that here Theon does not believe him either, any trust he has shattered by Ramsay as well as Roose' unlikable personality. Still it seems likely Roose was really somewhat trying to be nice with Theon, because as he tries to teach Ramsay there's value in it:

"Power tastes best when sweetened by courtesy. You had best learn that if you ever hope to rule." - Reek III, aDwD

Do you think it can pay off somehow?

This is speculation, but i believe Roose' story is likely headed in the opposite direction - A Storm of Swords featured his greatest villainous feat, the Red Wedding, a showcase of cruelty and treacherousness. I do not think it will be followed up by an act of even greater cruelty; instead i think he will finally reap what he has sown.

Roose Bolton said nothing at all. But Theon Greyjoy saw a look in his pale eyes that he had never seen before — an uneasiness, even a hint of fear.

That night the new stable collapsed beneath the weight of the snow that had buried it. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

I believe the line about the stable is meant as a metaphor for his regime collapsing, as it is put directly after the line where he realizes the situation is growing dire for him.

It all seemed so familiar, like a mummer show that he had seen before. Only the mummers had changed. Roose Bolton was playing the part that Theon had played the last time round, and the dead men were playing the parts of Aggar, Gynir Rednose, and Gelmarr the Grim. - a Ghost in Winterfell, aDwD

Roose is likely going to continue the parallel with Theon as his arc goes steadily downwards. He is a foil to Ned; where Ned died but his legacy lives on, Roose will likely live to see his legacy crumble.

There is of course a possibility that he, when cornered, starts expressing more cruelty as a last-ditch effort. We saw the stable used as a metaphor for his rule in Winterfell; but there is another interesting detail about the reconstruction of the burned Winterfell:

Serve well, Lord Bolton told them, and he would be merciful. Stone and timber were plentiful with the wolfswood so close at hand. Stout new gates had gone up first, to replace those that had been burned. Then the collapsed roof of the Great Hall had been cleared away and a new one raised hurriedly in its stead. When the work was done, Lord Bolton hanged the workers. True to his word, he showed them mercy and did not flay a one. - the Prince of Winterfell, aDwD

Aegon the Conqueror had commanded [the Red Keep] built. His son Maegor the Cruel had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the fortress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed. - Catelyn IV, aGoT

This is a crack theory, but perhaps Roose has something up his sleeve when it comes to the newly constructed roof of the Great Hall (a location that features extremely prominently through all of Theon's aDwD Winterfell chapters). Maybe he could make it crash intentionally to bury his treacherous allies or something like that...

I doubt however that he will do Ramsay-style extreme violence, i can't really see a reason and it doesn't appear to be his style. He seems more about cunning than flashy displays.

As always these are not PoV characters, so as long as we don't have a view inside their heads we can never say anything with 100% certainty.

#asoiaf #roose bolton #ramsay bolton #asoiaf meta #a song of ice and fire #asks #mzyraj #sorry if i went a little off topic ajsjdjfjxjd #im like roose i just love going on a tangent of someone gives me an opportunity to talk #also ive seen your other question its very interesting #ill see when i can get to it