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#she is very smart and angry
strikeslip · 2 years
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Today I chewed through the entire third Scholomance book in a night (it's YA, it's less than 500 pages, this is fucking easy mode) and anyway, The Golden Enclaves came for me EXTREMELY HARD when describing the one kind of game El got to play with the kids her age who didn't particularly like her, and also basically every time Liesel talked (Some of us KNOW HOW TO COUNT El) and I enjoyed this immensely.
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samuraisharkie · 2 years
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tf when ur dad but then you indulge in an old childhood show and feel better
#i always forget how much I like teenage mutant ninja turtles until I get started again#I saw clips of the new movie from animators that worked on it on twitter and YouTube and it made me curious and god.#I remember I judged that show based on the designs and the way they drew master splinter but it’s actually pretty good??#I actually really liked some of the changes they made#putting splinter’s character arc of learning to be at peace with his past in the show was surprisingly fulfilling#he’s not like the past iterations of splinter at all but there’s something compelling about what they chose to do with him#you just. have to get through the first few episodes where he’s at his lowest#also I kind of like what they did with Leo in the newest show#and moving Raphael away from the trope of ‘big angry brute’ but designing him like that was a surprising trope inversion#i just like the way they did the turtles’ personalities in this one. they’re goofy brothers that kick ass!#also the show instantly shot forward in respect from me#bc one of the show writers basically canonized that at the very least Donny and Mikey are on the spectrum#and unlike most shows w an autistic smart character they actually write Donny pretty well in that context#also instantly like it a ton bc April is a cool member of the gang again and not a damsel in distress or uncomfortable love plot device#also she’s a black girl now and it’s fucking awesome#I hate the amount of racists that pop up everytime she’s even referred to online though :/#this April seems like the best one I’ve ever seen tbh she meshes with the rest of the main cast extremely well
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stinkrascal · 1 year
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this is a spoiler i guess but it doesnt matter since i havent posted straud in 6 months anyways but breanna and mila are going to have a huge feud and it is 100% breannas fault shes so mean for no reason
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whalehouse1 · 1 year
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You don’t realize how much you hate how a character until you walk into a store and audibly groan so loudly over seeing them as the main selling point.
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thebibliomancer · 2 years
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Essential Avengers: Avengers #270: WILD in the Streets!
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August, 1986
Its probably fantasy racism but look at that partially obscured sign behind Namor’s rock hard calf that says Go Fish
Somebody recognized that their hatred for sub-mariners dovetailed nicely with their love for puns.
Anyway.
Last times in Avengers: well there was a lot of Kang stuff. A three issue arc. Who does he think he is?
But relevantly, Captain America decided to propose a depressed Namor for Avengers’ membership to help him get over his kingdom asking him to kindly gtfo. As an Avenger, Namor hasn’t flooded New York again but there’s been friction. Mostly between him and Hercules.
But right before the Avengers got swept up in Kang Drama, the public at large learned that Namor was an Avenger and now there’s protests. And counter-protests.
Because Namor is both that guy who punched a lot of Nazis in World War II but also flooded New York and tried to take over the world a couple times. He inspires divisive feelings.
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I mean, just look at these divided feelings!
So far the people with opposing feelings about Namor have mostly just yelled at each other, thanks to the brave work of some horses in keeping the crowds apart.
But with a title like WILD in the Streets, who knows how long before things get something in the sheets.
Wait, could Namor seduce the crowd?
He has abs for days and some portion of the crowd is bound to be into that.
Anyway, the reporter dressed like a fireman gets some vox pops about Namor. A representative of Veterans of Foreign Wars says that Namor was one of the United States’ greatest allies during World War II.
Another guy yells that the Russians were one of America’s allies during the war and hey fuck ‘em! Also, Namor declared war on the whole human race once!
The reporter exposits for the good of the angry crowd and also reading audience that the State Department had granted a blanket amnesty to Namor in the Sub-Mariner limited series as part of a move to have Atlantis admitted to the UN.
Hmm. I wonder if that ever went through. Be funny to have a scene set in the UN and there’s just some guy with a bowl of water on his head zoning out.
There’s a scene change to a group of men watching the news. A guy named Farrington announces “we finally have a change to get that fish-man, once and for all! I say we take it!”
This guy is originally from the Strange Tales book back in the 60s but he doesn’t seem to appear in any more Avengers books after this.
He’s pissed off at Namor for some reason, they apparently have history. But I don’t really know his deal.
All of the dudes with Farrington in the scene announce that they’re WITH Farrington in an alliance to take down Namor!
Wuh oh, Prince of Abslantis, better watch out for... these dudes!
Anyway.
Inside Avengers Mansion, Jarvis also glumly watches the news coverage which has started asking why the Avengers haven’t made an official statement about Namor’s membership.
Jarvis: You’d have had your statement 24 hours ago, young lady... If half the Avengers hadn’t been spirited away. And now, the others are gone as well -- vanished to who knows where... or when!
Due to Immortus just flinging them back home as soon as they started asking too many questions, where is a couple rooms away from Jarvis and when is right at the moment he finished his thought.
The Avengers are, for the record, pretty annoyed with Immortus giving them the brush off. Cap wishes they had a better assurance that they wouldn’t have to deal with a three-part Kang story again then Immortus just telling them ‘its fine, its fiiiiine.’
Hercules: “I know now why Thor said he found dealing with Immortus a trial. The Limbo-master treats men and gods alike as mere pawns!”
Captain America: “We don’t like it any more than you, Herc!”
Hah.
While the rest of the Avengers wander off to find what today’s plot is rather than continue rehashing last month’s, Captain Marvel asks Black Knight for a favor.
She’s annoyed that her weakness to Darkforce energy has come up for a second time and she’s willing to turn to SCIENCE to make it stop happening.
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She says that he recently helped Wasp get better with her powers. Although to be more accurate, Wasp’s powers got better on their own and Black Knight just pointed it out.
Either way, Black Knight agrees to do some SCIENCE tests on her powers.
Ahh, I remember back when Iron Man used to do science tests on Captain Marvel. I miss that dude every other week.
Anyway.
The Avengers find Jarvis and he catches them up to how bonkers things have gotten with the Namor protests.
Hercules: “Ungrateful wretches! Who are they to tell us who we may or may not make an Avenger! I shall thrash them all soundly!”
Wasp: “Hercules! Don’t you dare!”
Cap points out that because AMERICA, people have the FREEDOM to protest even if they’re saying dumb things that are wrong.
Hercules accepts this but fumes that they should respect Namor’s valor. And also fumes (in his thoughts) “leader or not, the Wasp would do well not to address the son of Zeus in that tone of voice!”
Yeah, this is going to be a problem sooner or later.
Hercules voted for Wasp to be chairwoman of the Avengers because he was intrigued at how assertively she was at requesting the position. But to him the novelty has worn off and he’s just annoyed that a lady woman is bossing him - a big buff he-man muscle god - around.
Not a good look on him.
Black Knight is impressed that as much as Hercules and Namor squabble (and it has been a significant amount), Hercules still leaps to defend his teammate.
While Namor just solemnly watches the him-protest.
The news broadcast brings up the time that Namor invaded New York just a few years ago, because of course he did.
Namor: So, it begins at last. Every bit of my misbegotten past will be brought back for all the world to see... all those deeds done in the name of a throne I no longer possess. How can I now defend such actions? Is it any wonder that... so many hate me?
Speaking of, the news interviews a widow in the anti-Namor crowd who says her longshoreman husband was killed when Namor destroyed the wharf he was working on.
Widow: “A-a-and now that m-murderer is an Avenger?!”
Exceppppt
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FBI Agent Derek Freeman - you remember him, right? He was in that issue that set up X-Factor with the Jean Grey pod? - he’s flying around in a helicopter looking for Karla Sofen/Moonstone who escaped custody. And he gets a report that the crying widow on the TV news is actually Moonstone.
Even though Derek lampshades that she’d have to be crazy to head right to Avengers Mansion and stir up trouble after escaping custody, yup, that’s her.
She went right to Avengers Mansion because chaos draws her in, I guess.
Oh and she’s doing a good job stoking the chaos.
The protest and counter-protest go wild, taking on a red tint probably meaning that the rage is upon them.
Just when it’s looking like there’s going to be a riot and a police officer complains that they’re out here policing right in front of Avengers Mansion instead of the Avengers coming and helping, the Avengers come and help.
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Captain Marvel appears in a giant flash of light that confuses the mob enough that they just stop and stare.
Then she uses her words and tells people to calm the fuck down so the Avengers can try to address their concerns.
Meanwhile, Moonstone decides to sneak out the back of the mob. Probably thinking ‘shit shit shit SHIT who would have thought an Avenger would have showed up here, in front of Avengers Mansion??’
One of the faces in the crowd asks Captain Marvel if Namor is really an Avenger and Marvel confirms, yup, proposed by Captain America himself.
At this point Cap casually walks up.
Another face in the crowd: “But, Cap, that murderin’ -- !”
Captain America: “Just a minute, son! The Sub-Mariner’s made a lot of mistakes, but the man I know is no murderer!”
Oooof. You may want to take a look at Namor’s first appearance, Cap.
He drowns a man. Granted, he’d never met a human at that point so was kind of confused about the whole thing but... wait, are you saying he didn’t kill anyone during the entirety of World War II?
I guess that doesn’t count as murder though.
We’re talking a specific, legal definition thing here.
Anyway, yet a third person in the crowd protests that the widow lady said differently but the widow lady has snuck away so Captain Marvel just doesn’t know what the guy is talking about.
Then Wasp shows up and tells the two Caps that the FBI called to let her know that Moonstone is in the are.
Now, Moonstone could make a clean escape here.
It’s going to take the Avengers a minute or so to put together that Moonstone was the widow and start looking for her.
But Moonstone came here to cause trouble on purpose and DAMMIT she gonna do that!
Moonstone: “I don’t know what’s going on back there, but things are quieting down far too much for my tastes! I could use a bit more confusion to help cover my trail.”
So she blows up a fire hydrant.
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And sure, the argument is that the confusion will help her escape.
Except, a hydrant exploding and gushing water just draws everyone’s attention and Moonstone is then stuck in a position where she can’t slip away without a major diversion.
WHICH IS WHAT BLOWING UP THE HYDRANT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!
Instead, Captain Marvel (who can move at light speed) light speeds over to melt the hydrant closed to stop water from blasting everywhere and is fully aware that Moonstone is probably nearby.
Moonstone is supposed to be smart and really manipulative. Maybe that happens later.
Instead, she blasts a helicopter, causing it to start spiraling to the ground.
Namor flies out of the mansion to the rescue.
Wasp asked him to lay low due to the anti-him protests but dangit, he’s not going to let innocent people die while he sits on his thumb!
Namor has some trouble though. He has enough strength to lift a helicopter easily but its spinning out of control and drags him to the ground along with it.
He manages to steer the crash away from the crowds but it still crashes. Right before it does, Captain Marvel nyooms over in her light form and gets caught in the explosion.
Moonstone congratulates herself for the great distraction she did.
Moonstone: “Hah! That’s two Avengers out of my hair... permanently, I hope! With Captain Marvel out of the picture, slipping away will be easy!”
I really doubt that a helicopter explosion is enough to do in Namor, who can stand toe-to-toe with the Hulk. And something like a helicopter explosion isn’t going to destroy light.
You’re being far too optimistic, Moonstone.
And you’re being far too optimistic instead of running away.
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Remember how the fire hydrant and helicopter explosions were meant to be distractions so she could get away instead of enjoying the chaos?
Well, while Moonstone enjoys the helicopter explosion, Wasp spots her and fires a few warning shots.
Moonstone immediately intangibles through the ground making me wonder why she didn’t lead with that. Why worry about drawing attention if you can just literally disappear into the crowd?
Moonstone, you dumb.
Wasp isn’t going to give up the chase that easily, not after all the trouble Moonstone has been causing.
So Wasp blows a hole in the pavement and flies into a utility tunnel to pursue.
In the utility tunnel, Moonstone has ditched the widow weeds and changed into her supervillain outfit in time to spot Wasp fly by.
Moonstone notes that Wasp has better control of her shrinking powers than the last time Moonstone fought the Avengers but decides she can still kick Wasp’s ass.
She sneak attack blinds Wasp with an energy blast and tries to get her while Wasp blindly tries to DOOOOODGE.
Meanwhile, back at street level, Black Knight and Hercules come running out of the mansion.
Black Knight: “Cap, we just got new orders from the Wasp!”
Hercules thoughts: Orders... from the Wasp... BAH!
Get over it, guy.
This is what you signed on for.
Wasp’s new orders that she sent to Black Knight specifically (is he her second in command now or what?) is for Hercules to go dig Namor out of the helicopter crash. The rest of the Avengers should join her in the utility tunnels to help capture Moonstone.
All of Moonstone’s blasting willy-nilly in the tunnels below, cause part of the street to collapse.
Hercules saves a guy from a police van that was about to tip over on top of him and Black Knight heads into the tunnel.
None of the other Avengers do. Which in this case means Captain America doesn’t. He helps Hercules clear the streets.
Black Knight finds Moonstone recovering from the dust and smoke kicked up in the explosion she caused. And when she sees Black Knight, she immediately tries to blast him.
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But Black Knight’s Extremely Cursed But Pretty OP Ebony Blade absorbs Moonstone’s attack.
And when the villain claims that she killed Wasp, Black Knight unleashes the absorbed energy like some kind of sword beam and knocks Moonstone on her ass.
Then Wasp shows up and reveals she’s perfectly fine.
When Moonstone blew up the gas main while trying to blow up Wasp, it knocked Moonstone for a loop but Wasp just shrunk down to insect-size so she could ride out the shockwave.
Tiny mass is its own superpower.
Anyway, when Black Knight arrived and getsuga tensho’d Moonstone, Wasp was busy shutting off the gas main to prevent further explosions.
Back up at street level, Namor and Captain Marvel show up, unscathed from the helicopter explosion and having rescued the people that were in the helicopter.
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The crowd remains divided on Namor, Contentious Sexyman.
The people that like Namor point at this example of Namor being a cool hero who saves lives.
(The couple that are students or perhaps parents for the Sub-Mariner seem detailed enough that they’re likely a cameo or reference to someone the creative team knew.)
People that don’t like Namor suggests that this was a staged rescue to make Namor look good.
Agent Freeman, a guy who was in or near a helicopter explosion, just gets annoyed that anyone would think the FBI would deliberately crash a helicopter in the middle of New York.
Captain Marvel: “People believe what they want, Mr. Freeman.”
Now, I wouldn’t go far as to say an intelligence service would never do that but its not cost effective to do that for a superstrong fishman when the Avengers have to do a heroism at least once a month.
Save a helicopter, just wait for an alien invasion.
What really changes the crowds’ mind is when the Avengers haul Moonstone out of the sewer and reveal that she’s the “widow” that made the accusation against Namor.
Also:
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You’re just really leaning into this annoyed at woman thing, aren’t you, Herc?
The Avengers put Moonstone in a power-harness and bundle her into a police van with the help of some police wearing face obscuring helmets.
HMMM.
Anyway, some guy shows up and asks if Namor is Namor and when Namor answers in an annoyed affirmative, the guy serves Namor a summons.
He’s being sued!
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Meanwhile, the police van with the police wearing face obscuring helmets.
The police decide to mock Moonstone.
It’s not like she doesn’t give a lot of material to riff on.
Not-suspicious police 1: “For a gal who’s supposed to be edjicated, you sure pulled a bone-headed stunt back there! You oughta know better than to mess with the Avengers on your own!”
Moonstone: “Nobody asked you!”
Not-suspicious police 2: “Ohhh! A tough one!”
Except it turns out that these not-suspicious police aren’t actually police!
Shocking, I know.
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Not cop 1 is Absorbing Man and not cop 2 is Titania and they’re here to present an exciting new opportunity to Moonstone, or else.
First they present their bona fides by talking about the superheroes they’ve beaten up. Thor for Absorbing Man and She-Hulk for Titania.
I’m pretty sure they’re here to recruit Moonstone for the Masters of Evil which means That storyline is getting close which means I’m excited.
Also, it makes this scene like a Nick Fury recruitment scene decades before that was a twinkle in Kevin Feige’s eye.
Also also, makes this like the stinger that a subset of fans desperately wish would start appearing in MCU movies.
Anyway, that’s a taste. Now back to the Namor getting sued plot.
Why is Namor being sued?
He’s being sued by insurance investors (led by Leslie Farrington, that one guy from old Namor comics I mentioned!) for two billion dollars of property damage to property that their insurance covered.
Now, I thought that Namor had been granted amnesty but the comic has that covered as the Avengers’ lawyer, apparently, Mr. Costello informs, the amnesty only clears him of criminal charges. He can still be sued in civil court.
Hm. Weird for there to be a superhero adjacent lawyer that’s not Jen Walters or Matt Murdock. Although I don’t think Jen has her license yet to practice in New York at this point.
Anyway. Mr. Costello advises that Namor can probably beat the suit but it would be a major court battle and A LOT of bad publicity.
He suggests an out-of-court settlement but NAMOR WILL NOT HEAR OF A THING! HE WILL FACE HIS ACCUSERS IN COURT! THE JUDGEMENT WILL BE ON THE RECORD! AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!!
Mr. Costello, looking like he’s regretting taking this case, says he can push for an early trial if Namor really wants that but that Namor will have to work very closely with him and it won’t be easy.
It sure would be bad timing if a new plot wrinkle dragged Namor away from all this, wouldn’t it?
Anyway, Namor’s dickhead cousin Byrrah shows up and tells Namor that Attuma has taken over Atlantis and is laying a trap with Namor’s friend and almost-wife Marrina as the bait.
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Black Knight suggests that all the Avengers come together as a team and kick Attuma’s ass but Namor insists no This Is Something He Has To Do Himself!
... It feels like it’s been a while since one of those. Was it... the West Coast Avengers first volume and Wonder Man’s beef with the Blank?
I don’t remember but I didn’t miss it.
Black Knight tries to change Namor’s mind but Hercules has Namor’s back and tells him to go off and have fun beating up his nemesis for honor.
So Black Knight gives up because he has no chance to get Namor to stay without Hercules. Which indicates to me that his plan was to point Hercules at Namor and say ‘get ‘im!’ if he couldn’t convince him with words.
And off Namor goes! Out of the Avengers and into Alpha Flight!
... I hope he comes back. He was barely on the team.
Hercules: “No need to worry, Dane... Namor will make fast work of this Attuma!”
Black Knight: “I hope you’re right, Herc. And I hope he gets back here soon! ‘Cause with that lawsuit pending, if he’s gone too long... this whole mess could blow up in our faces!”
Oh damn, he’s totally going to miss his court date.
DAMMIT HERCULES!
Follow @essential-avengers​ because of reasons. Good reasons. Reasons that are just so very persuasive. Like and reblog, it makes me feel appreciated.
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charliemwrites · 17 days
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There are men across the street.
The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.
But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.
You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.
You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.
Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.
She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.
It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.
The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.
You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.
You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.
The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.
“Excuse.”
You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.
What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.
“Hi,” you say, straightening.
He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.
“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.
You blink, surprised and confused.
He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.
But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.
“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”
The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.
Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.
“This is Guy.”
You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.
“Guy?” he asks.
“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”
You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.
“He is a little guy,” the man muses.
Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.
“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.
The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.
“What are their names?”
You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”
A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.
“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”
You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”
“Yes, the short one.”
You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.
“Does he know you call him that?”
“Not if you don’t tell him.”
You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.
Someone’s at the door.
You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.
Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.
You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.
You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.
“Morning,” you chime.
“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.
“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”
He grunts. “Work.”
And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.
“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”
“No.”
You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.
“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”
You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.
You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”
He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”
Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.
“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.
“So! The truck - when will it be here?”
“Noon.”
“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.
You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.
The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.
You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.
You blink and abandon the dishes for later.
The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.
You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.
You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?
“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.
You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.
You yawn. “Mhmm.”
He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.
“It is late.”
“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.
“The sun is up.”
“So what?”
He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.
“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”
You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”
Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”
Well shit.
Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.
Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.
Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.
You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.
At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.
It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.
“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”
His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.
“The cat comes too.”
Cat?
You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.
He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.
There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.
You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.
The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.
The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.
Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.
“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.
“Why?” he asks.
You shrug. “To be nice.”
He stares. You blink back.
“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”
Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.
To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.
“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”
The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.
“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.
That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.
“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”
He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.
“Nikto,” he rasps finally.
You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.
“You,” Krueger says.
You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”
“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.
“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”
He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.
“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.
“No problem,” you answer, smiling.
Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)
“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”
“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.
“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.
“We will handle it,” Krueger says.
“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”
You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.
“Huh,” you say, surprised.
Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”
You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”
That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.
“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.
Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.
“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.
Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.
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lilacsandlillies · 1 month
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I was going through the anti Jason Todd tag because I hate myself and want to understand where people who dislike him are coming from and one thing I kept seeing was annoyance at Jason fans who claim that Jason is female coded and realized that the term “female coded” might not be the best term to describe what we mean.
A female coded character in literature and media typically means a character that has no specified gender or otherwise does not have a gender but is obviously meant to be a stand in for a woman or female. Kind of like how Starfire has no specified race (due to being an alien) but is still obviously black coded based on the way she’s drawn and treated by the narrative.
This is slightly different than what we mean when saying that Jason is female coded. It’s not that Jason is literally supposed to be a stand in for a female character, it’s that the way a lot of characters treat him and a lot of the tropes used on him are things that usually saved for female characters, not big buff men like Jason.
To start with, being Robin is narratively (or at least was) very similar to being a woman in a story. Robin is a role made to complement Batman (who we all know is basically the ultimate male power fantasy). Robin’s role is to be an accessory to Batman. Robin can be smart, but not smarter than Batman. Robin can be strong, but not stronger than Batman. Hell, Robin is often kidnapped and used as a literal damsel in distress, a role often regulated for women as a whole.
What sets Jason apart from the other robins (except for Steph) in this regard is that they were allowed to be characters outside of Batman. Dick might not have been the “man” of the story when he’s with Bruce, but when he’s with the teen titans suddenly he’s the smart one who has all the answers. Jason’s Robin was never really allowed this.
Then we get to the most, controversial, part of Jason’s female coding. The fact the he was effectively fridged. Fridging is usually only referred to as frigding if it’s a female character, but Jason’s death checks pretty much all the other boxes needed. An incredibly brutal death that was more about Bruce’s feelings on it than Jason himself.
This is especially apparent when compared to the other Bat characters. For all the female coding, the only other Robin to actually be fridged was Steph (and we all know about the misogyny surrounding her death). Barbara was also kind of fridged during the killing Joke. The only female character to escape this is Cass (to my knowledge). When you look at it through this lens, the fact that the only other characters to be permanently damaged like this for Bruce’s story are female, it’s not hard to see where the idea that Jason is female coded comes from.
You can even find this in Jason’s origin story. Poor little orphan is saved by benevolent billionaire is a role usually saved for little girls, like in Annie.
Despite what you might think, this even continues after Jason’s revival. Jason is still used less as a character and more as a motivation for Bruce. He’s regularly called emotional and hysterical (terms usually used to refer to women).
Jason is first and foremost a victim. A role performed by women in most media. Men are expected to be stoic and “rise above” the things done to them as to not be victims, as continuously shown by the way characters like Nightwing are not allowed to be effected by the horrific things they go through. The fact that Jason is shown the be angry, and sad, and emotional, constantly, and the fact that he’s punished and vilified for it puts him in a place much more similar to a female character.
There’s a reason that so many Jason fans (that like him for a reason past “antihero with guns”) are female. For most characters, when you swap their genders there would be a pretty clear and big difference in the way their story takes place. If you swap Jason’s gender, the story takes place identically.
A lot of this is best shown in men’s reactions to Arkham Knight’s version of Jason. In that game, Jason is similarly angry and emotional, albeit for slightly different reasons. He is also still unmistakably a victim. You’d think the men playing would like him. After all he’s a big cool angsty guy with a lot of guns and muscles. Instead, a lot of men’s thought that he was whiny. That his feelings were annoying.
There’s also something to be said about how his autonomy is regularly undermined by Bruce (specifically in Gotham war) and how his decisions and feeling are constantly treated as if they’re worth less than Bruce’s, but that’s a discussion for another day.
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talaok · 1 month
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a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had
warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason
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You were flirting good
The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone
Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl
"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.
He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed
As if
“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”
But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you
"she's not"
Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter
"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face
"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting
"Now."
There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding
"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill
You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving
"Cockbloker"
You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,
only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud
"you're in trouble doll"
again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know
The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear
"I'm talking to you"
You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage
And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.
maybe this will get your attention
And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face
"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 
"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"
The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay
"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"
You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront
"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 
Oh he was fuming
"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"
you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat
he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.
"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"
What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please
You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk
"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"
The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory
"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 
"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 
"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"
Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"
He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.
"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty
"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"
The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case
"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 
His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that
"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 
And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do
"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"
And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.
If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.
He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time
"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"
And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants
"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth
"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"
His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.
You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-
It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed
For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this
And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.
"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 
He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less
"What, you scared?"
And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant
"fuck me, daddy"
God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love
"Jesus fucking Christ doll"
He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat
He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.
He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.
he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good
"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them
He was being serious, he needed you to know that
 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 
You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice
"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"
If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this
"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 
And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him
"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating
"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"
"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"
And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.
You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground
"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"
"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips
You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you
Later
"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.
the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now
"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours
"I gotta clean myself up" 
"I could help" 
You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you
"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"
And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard
And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe
"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.
Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about
"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"
To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century
His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself
"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"
"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"
Kaleb stumbled back, literally now
"w-wha-"
"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month
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DILF!Konig x Babysitter!Reader
It was a nice little gig.
Konig's son is more than a little bit neurodivergent and less than a lot traumatized by his mom's essentially running away from him and his daddy - so, you, as his babysitter, is left to pick up the pieces. Not like you'd usually care for the sad family history, but the little guy is genuinely nice when he is not busy biting off heads of his dino toys or trying to explain every gun his dad has to you. He is the quietest kid you know and the loudest one at the same time - and his father is kinda the same.
You know Konig as a brief appearance in the door when he goes home. You know Konig as a dad of the kid you babysit - as a guy who is never early and always late, as a guy who makes you think you like the kid, but you'd drop him off solely because of his dad - but then he brings you a hefty bonus for staying up late with little Felix, and you just know you need money more than you need time.
This guy is always somewhere instead of spending time with his son - so you kinda started to stay up late, knowing that even a very independent 6 year old shouldn't stay at home alone because his dad is too busy at his desk job as a mercenary instructor, or doing alcoholism, or crime, or literally whatever, you don't even care - you just get your laptop with you, a few pairs of fresh clothes and a tooth brush from the nearest supermarket. Staying up late in their house was a bit weird at first, but Felix adores you - and you don't care what his dad thinks.
This is how Konig finds you, curled up on the couch, his son laying on your tummy. You are the first person his son touched outside of his mother - and you're the first woman Konig sees who doesn't make him ridiculously angry or bitter. He knows he shouldn't look at you like this, you're young, too young for him - probably fresh out of college in the best case scenario, just a quick money grab for a girl like you...still, he can't help but stare. Can't help but touch you cheek, so soft compared to his rough hands.
Felix looks at him with disdain, little shit always hating on him ever since his mother left - but even his son knows what's good for him, so he doesn't care that dad is touching the babysitter while she is asleep. He is a smart boy and knows when to start crying when his dad is leaving for a three-month mission and begs for you to just stay at the house - he will pay you per week, way more than you got before, and he will send you money for food and house necessities.
Honestly, you should have listened to your guts here, but...Felix is a nice kid. His dad is mostly harmless. You thought so, at least.
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sundrop-writes · 1 month
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Careful - Chapter Two
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Two: Liar
Why should I deny what's all at once, so crystal clear?
Summary:
Spencer is eager to talk to you - to find out if your son is actually his. But there are more important matters at hand, like the fact that you might be the next target of a serial killer who is actively stalking single mothers.
The two of you get locked in a battle of wills when you stubbornly refuse his protection and Spencer remains determined to keep you safe.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst and Smut.
Word Count: 8,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: again, general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of killing/murder, mentions of the reader being a target for a killer; mentions of the reader buying and using a vibrator (does not take place during the fic, more so mentioned as the reality of the ‘sex life’ of a single mom); the reader and Spencer parted on very bad terms (but the details of the situation are not yet revealed); the reader is very angry towards Spencer; the reader and Spencer argue; the reader is in denial that she is the target of a killer; there is some mention of Sebastian having similar hair to Spencer - but I don’t want that to describe or exclude the reader’s race because in the next chapter, there is a mention of Sebastian having the reader’s skin tone; mention of the reader ‘shoving’ Spencer out of anger (not hard enough to cause harm); mention of the reader owning a gun (registered with gun training) as a form of self defense; mention of the reader character celebrating a birthday - but there is no mentions of specific dates or months when the fic is set, so you can easily imagine that this takes place around your birthday (aside from mentions of holidays or seasonal weather); mentions of JJ x Will; JJ talks about her trauma regarding dogs after being attacked in 2x15; this ends in another flashback, this time including flashback sex (smut); Spencer cuts off foreplay to give the reader a birthday present - mentions of heated kissing and some groping; Spencer calls the reader ‘Princess’ (not during sex - in the context of ‘I am here to serve you like royalty’); the smut basically consists of Spencer eating the reader out. And I think that’s it for this chapter. 
A/N: Okay so something I did not intend to happen - a lot of this chapter is from JJ's perspective. It just naturally started happening while I was writing it, and it was really interesting to me to write about Spencer and the reader's relationship through her eyes (especially to keep the conflict between them vague to the audience, because JJ doesn't know the details of what happened), and it's not something I did intentionally, but I really loved how it shaped the chapter, so I kept it in. Also, I really wanted to include a lot of JJ x Spencer friendship and comfort moments in the fic because (as a lot of people in the fandom have discussed) - the writers love to have the characters say that JJ and Spencer are best friends, but they don't often show it. They just show a lot of conflict between them. So I wanted to show the potential of their friendship. And I had a lot of fun exploring that. So - I hope you guys enjoy the second chapter, and definitely hope to see you come back for chapter three!!!
...
When you heard someone knock on your door, you thought it was a delivery. 
You had ordered Sebastian some new educational coloring books, and some new CDs with Mozart concertos to fall asleep to, because he was getting bored of his current ones. You often felt like you couldn’t keep up with him - Sebastian was so damn smart, and you always tried to provide him with the best resources to learn. Even if he was getting to a point where he was asking for high school level chemistry text books and actually seemed to understand the material in them and you were confused about how he could comprehend any of it. 
The package also could have been the new vibrator you had ordered. You weren’t sure if that package was small enough to be left in the mailbox or not. You had to roll your eyes when you thought about how pathetic your sex life had been since having Sebastian. But you couldn’t risk bringing random men through the house just for sex when you had Seb around. So battery power and smut novels, it was.
“Sorry!” 
You called out, hoping the delivery person would wait, as you raced to get to the door. You hoped they wouldn’t just slip one of those ‘failed to deliver’ notes into your door handle and force you to run an extra errand with a kid under your arm. You tripped over a toy truck and cursed yourself for procrastinating cleaning up (again). 
“Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
‘I was in my office, in the back of the house.’ 
The sentence died off on your tongue when you finally fumbled the door open - your mouth going numb from shock when you saw him. 
Spencer Reid. 
The father of your child, the man you had once loved. 
Your heart raced inside your chest, your body so overwhelmed so quickly that you couldn’t even decide on an emotion. 
Happiness. Joy. Lust. Longing. Sadness. Relief. 
Shock. 
You lingered on shock for a while as you stared at him, your eyes locked on the sight of him - wondering what the hell he was doing standing on your porch. How did he know where you lived? Why was he here? 
Was he here because of Sebastian? Was he angry? He had to be angry that you hadn’t told him about Sebastian for all of these years. He had to be angry that you had given birth to his child and not told him about it. 
You flickered back to lust for a moment as your eyes traced over him. 
He looked good.
Somehow, he had grown up so much in just four years. He had gone from a gangly, boyish man to a full blown man. But he was somehow still so much the same. His hair had grown out a lot since you had last seen him - instead of the neatly combed, short cut you had last seen him with, it was downright wild. The chocolate brown locks were sprawling out into the thick curls that you had come to see sprouting from your own son’s head. It wasn’t a look that you were used to on Spencer, but it looked damn good on him. 
He was wearing his usual leather messenger bag - probably the exact same one from years ago. And he clearly had the same dress sense, but these clothes in particular made you want to jump his bones. A lavender cardigan that complimented his skin tone so well - and his usual button up shirt and tie, along with his usual gray slacks. 
You desperately wanted to blame the sting of attraction that you felt for him on the recent lack of male suitors in your life; the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in a long time. But you knew it was something else, too. Your previous attraction to him - the fact that because you had slept with Spencer before, you could still feel the ghost of his hands and tongue on your body. 
How did he look so good? 
He made you feel like a slob in your casual ‘work from home on a random Tuesday’ Mom clothes. If it had been your choice, he definitely wouldn’t be seeing you for the first time in years while you were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that you were sure had raspberry juice stained on it somewhere, and eyeliner that you had slopped in between traffic lights in the car that morning. 
(You hated it.) 
“Y/N,” 
He finally broke the silence, speaking your name in that honey-sweet way. 
Unfortunately, it brought you rocketing back to that night all those years ago. Your stomach dropped, and you felt like you were standing in that apartment all over again, tears in your eyes as you faced down the crashing reality that the best relationship you ever had in your life was over. 
This chased out that tiny splash of lust and brought on a whole new wave of confusing emotions. 
Anger. Rage. Sadness. Bitterness. More longing. Regret. 
Like your brain was a spin wheel, it whirled around for a few hectic moments, and then - you landed somewhere between anger and pure rage. 
And that was when you finally spoke. 
“Spencer Reid.” You hissed out his name like it was pure venom, your neck aching as the blood pumped hard through your aorta. 
Immediately, Spencer’s features fell from looking at you with nostalgic fondness, and fear took over his face. 
“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked fiercely, this question rocketing back to the forefront of your mind. 
Spencer opened his mouth, seemingly to answer this question, and the rage pumped harder in your system. You found that suddenly, you didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he had to say. 
You stepped through the door, easily stepping into his personal space as you came onto the porch. Without even thinking, you gave him a hard shove in the middle of his chest as you spoke your next words - much louder than you intended. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You screeched. 
You let your emotions carry your actions before any sense of logic or common decency could kick in. It was resentment and heartache that you had locked away four years ago - and apparently, it had been aging like wine, only becoming more potent with time. 
“You think that you can just magically show up in my life again after I specifically told you not to contact me?” You screamed. “Do you think that order has a fucking expiration date on it?” 
You gave him another hard shove. Perhaps expecting to prompt an answer out of him, or wanting to shove him off the porch entirely and get him out of your life once again. Which of those it was, even you weren’t sure. 
Spencer just looked at you with wide-eyed shock. Clearly, for once in his life, at a loss for words. 
“You better have a good fucking reason for showing up here!” You screeched, your voice becoming so loud that it wore out your throat. 
“Look, Y/N, I-” He stuttered out. 
“Don’t say my name.” You hissed, cutting him off. “Don’t say my name like we’re friends.” 
You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, and Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets, now finding himself utterly speechless. 
He definitely was not expecting this kind of reception. 
The two of you became locked in an icy staring contest, neither of you speaking. Spencer found his throat too dry, and for once, his head far too empty. You were simply too angry and too stubborn to speak in those moments. 
This stalemate was only broken up when JJ walked around the corner. 
“Spence, Hotch just told me that the first woman doesn’t even match the-” 
“JJ!” You cried out her name happily, your entire demeanor changing when you saw her. 
She grinned, completely forgetting whatever news she had to report to Reid as you practically flew off the porch and ran to meet her. JJ eagerly opened her arms to hug you, and you squeezed her with all the warmth and kindness of an old friend. 
Spencer felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t being greeted with as much affection. He knew that the last argument between the two of you had been bad, but he didn’t know it had left such a distinct impression on you. He didn’t know it had been enough to make you hate him. 
When you pulled away from JJ, you looked between her and Spencer, and then it suddenly struck you. 
If Spencer wasn’t here alone, that meant this wasn’t personal. He wasn’t just here to see you over some lost love, or - maybe he didn’t know about Sebastian at all. You felt a pang of guilt twist your gut because of that. 
“What - what are you guys doing here?” You asked, now entirely confused, directing the question toward JJ. 
JJ looked toward Spencer, and according to his ill-concealed frown, his reunion with you had not gone well. She doubted that you would take the news that you were possibly being hunted by a killer well on top of that. 
“Is it alright if we come inside?” JJ asked, her voice tentative and soft. It was the same voice she usually used with victims and their families. 
“Yeah.” You said, knowing there must be something big that you were missing, and hoping that you would be filled in soon enough. “I’ll put some coffee on.” 
You walked back up the few steps of the porch and breezed right past Reid. You didn’t even spare a glance in his direction as you went back in through the open front door, leaving it open for the two of them with the expectation that they would close it behind themselves. 
“So - I take it things didn’t go well?” JJ whispered to Spencer as she moved up onto the porch. 
“Not quite.” Spencer mumbled in return before moving into the house, waiting for her to follow. 
This made JJ even more curious about what had gone down between you and Spencer all those years ago. 
What could have possibly made you so cold and distant toward him? 
But she couldn’t just come out and ask. They had a job to do. They were there to ensure your safety against a man who had already killed five women and orphaned five children. 
JJ walked into the house and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t surprised that she nearly tripped over a plastic toy truck in the entryway. Even though your son didn’t seem to be here (it was far too quiet for a small boy to be around), this was definitely a house where a child lived. 
The first space that was visible to her eye - the living room, was clearly a space that belonged to a young child. There was a large, colorful play mat underneath the coffee table, and a few toys scattered over across the floor, showing that he clearly liked to have hands on play. In the corner, there was a child-sized desk with a small chair, which seemed to be surrounded by art supplies, and advanced textbooks? Some of them opened and were dotted with bright, colorful stickers. One glance told JJ that the reading material very advanced for his age clearly belonged to him. 
So he very likely was Spencer’s son. 
She wasn’t sure why, but that did bring a cluster of joy through her. Likely because she knew he would be so excited to have a child of his own. 
JJ couldn’t help but to notice that many of the toys were Paw Patrol themed - it was a favorite show of Henry’s, too. In the back of her mind, she wondered if your son and Henry might be friends. 
“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You huffed, rushing around with your arms half full of toys now - distracted from getting the coffee, as you had mentioned. You were clearly rushing to pick up some of the mess now that you had realized how it appeared in the eyes of your ‘guests’. “All the - stuff.” 
You hesitated to say ‘toys’. Clearly, you didn’t want to bring up the subject of your son, even though the evidence of him was so visible all around. You didn’t want to give Spencer the smallest opening to start asking questions about him. It was something you wanted to avoid speaking about for as long as possible. 
Spencer looked at you with a mournful look on his face as you dodged around him, purposefully avoiding eye contact while you picked up a coloring book and a handful of crayons off the couch. You still refused to look his way at all as you rushed off to stash the items away somewhere. 
Clearly, he wanted to ask you more about your son, and simply ask that penultimate question: was he the father? 
But now wasn’t the right time. 
“It’s alright.” JJ assured you. “You can just come sit down. We really need to talk to you.” 
You heaved out a sigh, defeated in your effort to clean up, and then came back from one of the other rooms. (JJ could only assume you had stashed the toys in a playroom or a closet, because much like her own home, all areas had become a domain for toys and playtime). You motioned for them to sit on the couch, and you scooted over a rocking chair from the other side of the room to sit in front of them, blocking the shut-off TV on the other side. 
“So, what is it?” You asked, clearly eager and curious to know what they were doing in your home - why they had contacted you now after so many years apart. 
JJ and Spencer exchanged a look, and with a gentle nod from him, JJ took the lead. 
“Well, um… there’s no easy way to say this, but we believe that you might be in danger.” She told you, introducing the topic gently, while wanting to be honest and direct. “Perhaps you’ve seen it on the news? But if you haven’t… several single mothers have been killed in the area recently, and we have reason to believe that you might be the killer’s next target.” 
You looked at her, entirely observant, quietly taking in her words. Your face was still and expressionless, and JJ was unsure if you were going to take this calmly and logically - if you were going to panic after you had fully absorbed the news, if you were going to cry. 
After a moment of silence - you burst out laughing. Your laughter was harsh and nervous, a sound that cut through the air like the rip of a chainsaw. Clearly, it was the stark opposite of someone taking the news with tears. 
“Oh my god.” You sighed, taking a breath from the non-humorous laughter. “You know that you didn’t have to make up some excuse just to come and see me, right?” 
Spencer’s face curled into a deep frown. He was upset that you weren’t taking this seriously. JJ found herself in shock. Usually when people found out they were potentially on the radar of a killer, they were paranoid, afraid, questioning why. 
But it was very rare to see denial. 
She did take notice of the fact that you didn’t immediately ask about what kind of evidence or reasoning they had to believe that you were the killer’s next target. Perhaps if your brain let you assess that reasoning for yourself and found it to be valid, then fear would take over. And you couldn’t let that happen. So this laughter, this posturing and not taking things seriously - it was an unconscious way to protect yourself from that fear. 
But JJ could only theorize about that. 
“I did miss you, JJ.” You said, very pointedly looking at her while you said it. “But you could have just sent me an email or something.” 
You continued avoiding Spencer’s harsh gaze as he bored holes into the side of your face with his intense, intrusive eyes. 
“Look, this is serious-” Spencer began, and you cut him off. 
“Okay.” You shrugged. “Let’s say for argument’s sake that there is someone trying to kill me,” 
You spoke of this lightly, the words entirely condescending on your lips, as though Spencer’s theory was entirely wild and imaginative to begin with. 
JJ saw the movement in his jaw as he grinded his teeth out of the corner of her eye, and she was surprised that he let you continue. 
“I have an alarm system that I set every night before I go to bed.” You informed them. “I am a proud gun owner. I have a registered revolver that I keep in a lock box beside my bed and I renew my gun training every single spring.” You told them, not seeming the least bit worried at the idea of a killer hunting you down. “If someone wants to kill me, let them try. I’m sure you guys have much better ways to spend your time than sitting around here, chatting with me when there are people out there, actually in danger. People who probably need your help.” 
You said this, trying to dismiss them. And then you moved to get up from your seat, looking to escape the conversation entirely. But once again, Spencer stopped you. 
“That’s it?” He fired back, entirely indignant, standing from his place on the couch. 
This caused you to roll your eyes and let out a hiss, your lungs deflating like an annoyed balloon as you paused in the middle of the room. 
“Yes, that’s it.” You groaned back. “Look, I know it’s your job to see problems everywhere, but-” 
“It’s my job to protect people.” Spencer replied, cutting you off. “And-” 
“Funny!” You scoffed, your voice escalating in volume. It had turned into a full-blown argument now - you were entirely uncaring that JJ was there to witness it; Spencer was locked in your sight like the crosshairs of a scope, and you were ready to fire. “You give a shit about ‘protecting’ me now, but what the fuck happened four years ago?”
You glared harshly at Spencer, and he locked his jaw, staring right back. It turned into a poisonous silence as neither of you spoke - he didn’t have a good answer for this question. And it made JJ all the more horribly curious about what had happened between the two of you. But she didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that the two of you needed some privacy. 
“Do… do you mind if I go get myself a glass of water?” She asked, tentatively standing up from her place on the couch. 
“I’ll get it.” You huffed out, moving to leave the room. 
“It’s okay.” JJ told you. “I can get it for myself. Just point me in the right direction.” 
You motioned toward the kitchen and JJ left, and she heard Spencer hiss out something about you being stubborn, which turned into another cluster of voices. The argument turned even more personal and sour now that the both of you didn’t have a witness. 
When JJ made her way into the kitchen, she was happy to see that your backyard was full of toys. A pair of sliding glass doors let her peek out to see a colorful swing set and a large playhouse, and a scattering of other toys meant that your son obviously spent a lot of time outside. She smiled to herself, trying to ignore the rising, angered sound of voices from the other room as she found a glass in one of the cabinets. When she moved to the refrigerator’s water dispenser, something along the way caught her eye. 
A vase of fresh flowers was sitting on the counter. 
White carnations. 
It made her stomach churn ominously. It felt too perfect to be a coincidence. 
She abandoned her half-full glass and grabbed the vase, walking back to the living room with it. 
“You just can’t accept help from anybody, can you? How can you not understand that your life is in danger here? This man is not going to stop until-” Spencer ranted on. 
He was still trying to convince you to take the threat seriously - but you were still boiling with rage over the past, blind to anything else. 
“I can’t accept anyone’s help?” You scoffed, crowding into his personal space to hiss the words closer to him. “That is so rich coming from someone who-” 
JJ cleared her throat loudly, cutting you off. 
“Spence.” She got his attention from the intense gaze he was keeping on you - anger hot in his eyes even though he was staring heavily at your lips. 
When Spencer looked over and saw the vase in JJ’s hands, his entire face shifted in a blink. His expression went from tight-knit anger and annoyance to ‘shit-your-pants’ worry. The danger went from being theoretical to being very real in that moment. 
“Where did these flowers come from?” Spencer asked. 
“What?” You gaped, so entirely confused. 
“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked, rephrasing the question, his tone more urgent and demanding now. 
“Why does that matter?” You replied, exasperated. You didn’t see how it was at all relevant. 
“All of the women who were killed received these exact same kind of flowers within days of their death.” JJ told you. “Do you have any idea who sent them?” 
“I thought my mother did.” You shrugged. “There was no name on the card. It just said ‘Happy Birthday’. She didn’t get to see me in person for my birthday, she’s traveling right now. She’s one of the only people who would send me flowers for my birthday.” 
“Yes, but your mother knows that your favorite flowers are lavender and baby’s breath. Why would she send these?” Spencer replied. 
Naturally, he remembered your favorite flowers. 
You couldn’t get stuck on that, though. Instead, you pondered the question he posed. 
Why would your mother send you white carnations without even signing the card? 
It wasn’t something you had thought about. At the time, you had just thought it was considerate, and sweet. When you had called her to thank her for the flowers, you had gotten her voicemail. You had left her a message thanking her. She was away on a singles cruise with shoddy reception and she hadn’t gotten back to you yet. 
“They’re just flowers.” You said, letting out another nervous chuckle - but your voice broke over this one. 
Obviously the reality of things was truly starting to set in with you. 
“We need to set up protective custody for you.” Spencer said, taking out his phone in order to get this done. 
“No!” You snapped. “I am not having some random cops follow me around because you think I might be in danger.” You hissed angrily. 
Spencer paused and stared you down, debating if he was going to go against your wishes or not, his phone still in hand. 
JJ hated the look in Spencer’s eyes. That deep, bitter fear. Whatever had happened between the two of you, there was still enough care lingering there that he would fight for you no matter what. He was terrified for you. He wasn’t going to let you meet the same fate as the other victims. She knew he wasn’t going to let this go. 
JJ put the vase down on the coffee table, and turned to you. 
“It doesn’t have to be random cops. We can stay with you, in order to-” She started to explain, only to be disrupted by the digital ringtone of your home phone echoing through the house. 
You rushed to grab the phone, and JJ heard some of the quiet conversation from you on one end. 
“Yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll be there soon. It’s no problem. Thank you so much. Yeah, twenty minutes. Bye.” 
You hung up and then rushed back into the living room - and before either of them could speak further on the matter, you rushed past them. You went to the entryway, taking off your slippers to exchange them for sneakers. 
“Look, guys, I would love to stay and hang out, but I have somewhere important to be.” You huffed out. 
“Seriously?” Spencer replied, entirely frustrated with you. “This isn’t some tea party. We aren’t just hanging around here for fun. Call whoever that was and tell them that you’re gonna be late. Or call and cancel, or-” 
“No!” You yelled back, entirely frustrated with him. “Dammit, Spencer! People have responsibilities, you know! I have responsibilities. I am an adult, I’m not some child you can talk down to. Now get the fuck out of my house so I can lock up, and get to the important things that I have to do. Things that don’t involve wasting my time talking to you.” 
You said the last part so snidely, resenting that Spencer’s unexpected visit had been part of your day. 
He opened his mouth to argue against this, but JJ put a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him toward the door. He sighed and flexed to this movement. He angrily stormed past you to leave through the front door, which he left wide open like a toddler having a tantrum. 
You grabbed your keys and your purse from a side table near the door and JJ moved to leave as well. On her way along, she put a gentle hand on your shoulder, capturing your attention. 
“We’ll check back in with you later, okay?” She said, using her most gentle, non-confrontational voice. 
“Sure.” You easily agreed, unable to be angry with her. “But just call, or something. There’s no need to bang down my door over some stupid flowers. It’s nothing.” 
She stepped through the door and you followed. As you used your keys to lock up, you added on: 
“I would give you my number, but I’m sure Penelope can find it for you in five minutes flat.” 
JJ chuckled at this. 
“More like two and a half, I’d say.” She replied - it was a joking tone, but she did truly think this highly of Penelope’s skills. 
You smiled over your shoulder at her and she nodded before she began to walk back to the car, where Spencer was already sitting in the passenger’s seat, stewing in his anger. 
When she got in beside him, they watched you pull out of the driveway and drive off before either of them spoke. 
“What the hell happened between the two of you?” JJ asked, the question finally unleashing from her lips. 
“It’s complicated.” Spencer huffed out in reply, tired. 
In order to distract himself from all of it, he was staring down at some files in his lap - some of the case files of the other murders that he had pulled out of his bag. He needed something to do to keep his mind from churning more on the fact that you seemed to hate him. He wanted to find a way to protect you now, instead of focusing on the past. 
But JJ seemed hellbent on walking backward - getting him to look back on what happened between the two of you. 
“I can do complicated.” She said. “We’ve got plenty of time. We should just sit here and wait for her to come back.” 
“You should go check in with Hotch.” Spencer told her, dodging around the question once again. “I’ll come back after.” 
“After what?” JJ questioned, finding this wording particularly strange. 
JJ started the car and pulled away, hoping that you would be safe during the time they didn’t have eyes on you. The UnSub had a particular routine - he liked to stalk his victims for a few weeks before he broke into their homes and killed them. So she hoped that he wasn’t ready to make contact with you yet. She hoped that if he did, your gun and your alarm system would be enough to deter him. 
“I - I wanted to get her something nice.” He answered, sounding rather shy about this proclamation. “Like she mentioned, her birthday just passed. And, according to the preschool forms, her son’s birthday was a week ago. I want to get something for him too.” 
“They have the same birthday?” JJ asked. 
“Not exactly the same, but their birthdays are only five days apart.” Spencer replied. “I missed his birth.” He added on, a quiet sigh, entirely melancholic. “I missed the whole pregnancy. I - I missed everything.” 
“You still didn’t answer my question.” JJ reminded him. “What happened?” 
Spencer knew she was asking as a friend. He knew that of all people - she was the one to talk to about this. 
“It - it was right after Hankel.” He admitted quietly. “That was when Y/N and I broke up.” 
“Oh.” JJ said quietly. 
The air in the car became thick as the heaviness truly overtook her. 
So, it was complicated. 
But she definitely couldn’t understand your rage toward Spencer. 
“When I came back from Atlanta, she knew I wasn’t the same. And things - we - we fell apart.” He admitted this barely above a whisper, hesitant to even voice the words as a reality. “You knew what kind of person I was back then. I wasn’t good to her. I wasn’t good to anybody.” 
Spencer let out a harsh chuckle - a defense to all the hurt he was feeling about it. 
JJ spotted a sign for a shopping center, and pulled into the parking lot. She knew that Spencer likely had a good idea about buying into your good graces with a late birthday gift. Even if it wouldn’t instantly make up for everything that had happened all those years ago. 
“Yeah, but you’re sober now.” She reminded him. 
“She doesn’t know that.” Spencer replied. 
JJ ruminated in thought for a moment. 
“You know, I met Will afterwards, right?” She said. 
Out of the corner of her eye, Spencer nodded. 
“It was only a few weeks after everything happened, when we were working that case in New Orleans.” She explained. “And he looked at me like I was a hero. Because I helped him finish what his father couldn’t. He didn’t look at me like I was fragile or broken. He didn’t tip-toe around me. He didn’t see me as some ghost. And that is part of the reason why I fell for him. He always saw me as this goddess. Like Superwoman.” 
Spencer smiled at this. 
He wanted to be that person for you. He wanted to be your Superman. (But he feared that he couldn’t live up to that. That he would fail you when the time came.) 
JJ found a parking spot, and parked, but Spencer lingered - sensing there was more to the conversation. 
“You know… Henry wants a puppy.” JJ’s voice shook, her throat clenching up around these words. 
Spencer’s stomach shook. 
He hadn’t been there, but he had seen the scars on JJ’s arms. He had seen the footage of the other poor woman being torn apart by those dogs. 
“And I had to tell Will everything. How I was chased down, how I had to shoot two innocent animals - the stupid fact that I still feel guilty about it, even though they would have killed me if I hadn’t done it.” She said, her throat becoming more closed off with each word. She cleared it before she spoke again. “How I lost you, how it was all my fault.” 
“What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” Spencer felt the need to say this aloud, reaching over and putting a gentle hand on her knee. She nodded at him before she continued. 
“Just - it was all so overwhelming. The idea of having a dog in our house. But… I told him that I wanted to try, at least. For Henry.” JJ explained. “But when we went to the animal shelter - the sound of dogs barking… I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. And next thing I know, I’m sitting on the curb outside with my head between my knees and Will is putting a bottle of water to my lips.” 
“Henry seems more like a cat person anyway.” Spencer replied, hoping this slightly humorous comment would offer some comfort to his friend. 
JJ let out a tired laugh. 
“He’s three and a half, I think we’re still in the stage where a goldfish is more than enough for him.” She added on. 
“I - I never told Y/N.” Spencer said, suddenly shifting the conversation. JJ raised her brow, prompting further explanation of this. “I never told her what happened to me. What happened with Hankel.” 
JJ gave him a sad look. 
“Why not?” 
“I - I didn’t want her to view me as weak. I couldn’t fight him off. I accepted the drugs. At certain points, I…. I even pitied him.” Spencer replied. “I didn’t want things to change between us. Even though they did anyway.” 
“Do you still wanna be with her?” JJ asked. 
“What?” Spencer gaped, not expecting the question. 
“If the kid is yours, obviously you wanna be in his life. But co-parenting as separate, single people is one thing.” JJ explained herself. “Do you still want to be with Y/N? Do you still love her?” 
“Yes.” Spencer replied shyly. 
“Then you have to tell her everything.” JJ said firmly. “Being with someone for the long term isn’t about creating some fantasy. I fell in love with Will because he looked at me like I was Superwoman, but I stayed in love because he takes care of me when I’m powerless. You have to be weak in front of her and let her take care of you, so that you can be strong everywhere else.” 
Spencer sighed - letting this wisdom fully penetrate him. 
He knew that being a genius sometimes meant that he wasn’t the smartest person in the room. Apparently, this was one of those times. 
“You’re right.” 
Then, he reached for the car door’s handle, feeling like JJ had taught him a lot with that conversation and he needed some time to think alone. 
“You want me to come with you?” JJ asked. “You might need a woman’s opinion on what to get,” 
“No thanks, I know Y/N pretty well.” He replied. “At least I hope I still do.” He opened the door fully and stepped out. “And I wanted some alone time, to… think all of this over. To think about what I’m gonna say to Y/N. I’m gonna walk back afterwards, the house is only a few blocks away.” 
JJ nodded. 
“I should check back in with Hotch.” She noted. “See if they found anything with the other women on the list. Otherwise, all we’ve got is the flowers.” 
Just as he moved to close the door again, JJ spoke up one last time. 
“Rubble.” She said suddenly - which sounded very strange with no context. 
“What?” Spencer asked, ducking his head down to see inside the car to potentially hear her words better. 
“Rubble - it’s a character from the kids’ TV show, Paw Patrol.” She explained. “There was about five action figures of him sitting on the living room floor back there. So I would assume that he’s your son’s favorite character.” 
Spencer’s chest jumped at the way she said ‘your son’ - so casually. 
He could really have a child in his life. This could really be his future. 
If he played his cards right, this could be his future with you. 
“Thank you, JJ.” Spencer grinned at her. 
She smiled back and he stood up to his full height and closed the car door, walking off into the shopping center by himself. 
And of course, his thoughts drifted back to you. 
He thought back to the last time he had spent your birthday with you. Before Hankel, before all the madness. Before everything good in his life slipped through his fingers and he was left feeling so alone. 
… 
For someone with basically no serious relationships under his belt before you came along, Spencer was excellent when it came to romance. 
Perhaps it was because he spent his time reading the classics - he could recite Elizabethan poetry off by heart, he could whisper epic romantic ballads in your ear before kissing you with such intense passion that it left your head spinning. He had such a perfect picture of what romance should be, and it meant that he knew how to plan a date that left you feeling like a queen. 
Every single time he took you out, he made you feel like you were the only woman on earth - like he would move the seas and the sky just to show you how much he cared. 
And because he insisted that your birthday should be a day all about you - a day dedicated to celebrating you - then this was certainly no different. 
The night had been a whirlwind of perfection. 
After dinner at a gorgeous fine dining restaurant downtown, Spencer then drove the two of you to an art gallery to stroll around. He cited that he wanted you to have some down time for your food to settle before he gave you your present. From the spark in his eye, you had a feeling that you knew exactly what that present would be. The whole evening was so utterly beautiful and peaceful. And like everything with Spencer - it was a pleasant enrichment of the mind, looking at art while he told you things about the artists or the origins of the paintings. 
Before you got halfway through the gallery, he checked his watch and told you that it was ‘just about time’ for your present, and then he drove you back to his apartment. 
The two of you barely made it through the door before you had him pinned against it, your mouth enveloping his in a hot, desperate kiss. You were so utterly grateful to have such a romantic, thoughtful man in your life. 
The entire evening had been nothing but a reminder of that - the way he looked at you with love so pure in his eyes. Him opening doors for you, keeping his hand on your lower back to usher you gently around, speaking lowly to you as though his words were precious and only meant to be yours. 
You needed him. You needed to show him how much you appreciated all of it. You needed him to know how much of a treasure he was in your life. 
You reached for his belt and Spencer let out a choked off moan into your mouth. 
You were surprised when he reached for your wrist, gently pulling your touch back - stopping you from unfastening the belt as he pulled his now slightly swollen lips away from your kiss. 
“As - as much as I want to,” He huffed out against your mouth. “I - I still have to give you your present.” He noted, flashing you a smile. 
“I thought this was my present.” You replied, reaching down to grope Spencer’s half hard cock through his pants. 
He let out a groan; but then he reached for your wrist again, pulling your touch back. 
“I - I promise - later - afterwards? Later tonight.” He stuttered out, hard pressed to focus as more blood rushed to his cock. 
Spencer puzzled you. You had never known any other man to interrupt foreplay for something other than sex, unless it was life or death. But it made you very curious about what your present was and why he was so desperate to give it to you. 
And sex was still on the table, so that panging need between your legs would be taken care of eventually. 
You hummed in ascent and stepped back, releasing Spencer from where you had him pressed against the door. He gulped in a large breath of air before he moved across the room. 
You were surprised when he didn’t move to turn on any lights in the apartment, leaving the two of you settled in comfortable darkness. The only lights being the light from the bathroom that he had left on before leaving, shining down the hall, and the dim lighting coming in the windows - some street lights and the occasional passing car’s headlights. 
Spencer shrugged off his blazer and tossed it over the back of the couch on his way toward the window. He yanked up the blinds in front of the space where he had set up a very expensive, advanced, gorgeous telescope - one that had been there the last few times you had visited. Astronomy was one of his many hobbies, and he often invited you to view different stars or passing comets. It was just one of the many things you learned from him - knowledge you absorbed from being around him that made you feel infinitely smarter. 
You always indulged in the joy of feeling smarter just from being in his presence. You loved that Spencer was someone so gifted who loved to share his knowledge, rather than gatekeeping it or being snide toward others who weren’t as privileged as him. It was just another thing to love about him - the fact that he was so kind in sharing his big brain with others. 
You watched him with intrigue while you took your wrap off your shoulders and tossed your purse onto the couch. Enjoying the quiet and the peaceful darkness and watching him work, you moved to sit on the arm of the couch to begin unstrapping your heels. 
He checked his watch again, and then looked to a small side table he had near the telescope. He flipped open a notebook that he had there, and you supposed that the minimal light coming in through the window was enough for him to see whatever it was that he had written there. He adjusted the telescope slightly, then looked at the notebook again, then adjusted the telescope again. 
Then he said ‘aha, there you are’ under his breath, grinning widely to himself. 
The entire thing made your insides glow with curiosity. 
Spencer then turned back to you, still grinning widely. When he noticed your shoe half-hanging off your foot, he stepped over to you and softly grabbed your ankle, sliding your shoe off the entire way before gently rubbing the sole of your foot. 
“Let me help you with that, Princess.” He said quietly, before moving to take the shoe off your other foot. 
Again, your insides tingled as he made you feel like you were the most important woman on earth. 
“Thank you.” You replied, almost speechless at the action. 
“If you’ll step right this way, I can show you your present.” He said, motioning toward the telescope with a dramatic flare. 
You let out a giggle as you stepped over your abandoned shoes and moved to look into the telescope. 
You wondered if he had written some poem and taped it onto the other end of the lens or something like that (it was Spencer, it must have been something epically romantic). But as you bent down and closed one eye to get a good look, it was entirely ordinary. 
The telescope was focused on a single, tiny star. 
It was beautiful, but it was very… plain. And more than anything, it was confusing. 
Your present was… a star? 
“Spencer, I don’t really get it?” You sighed, standing up to your full height once again. 
“I got you a star.” He said proudly, grinning even wider now. 
When you stared at him with more intense confusion, Spencer reached over to the notebook and pulled something out. After he handed it to you, you leaned into the light of the window and studied it carefully. 
It was a certificate stating that Spencer had paid to name the star after you. 
He had literally changed the night sky for you. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly. 
You felt so overwhelmed. 
If he had made you feel like the most important woman in the world before, then now - you felt like the most important woman in the galaxy. 
“Spencer, this is - this is too much.” You said, your throat clenching up slightly due to the intensity of the emotions. 
“No, it’s not.” He said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on your jaw, tilting your face up from looking at the certificate to look at him. 
There it was again, all of it spelled out in his eyes - the adoration, the pure, overwhelming affection that he felt for you. It bloomed nothing but those same feelings in return from you. It was almost so overwhelming that you felt like you could have exploded from how much love you felt for this man, all of it swelling inside of you so quickly that you felt like your body couldn’t contain it. Like it was a sickness that was going to overrun your body if you weren’t careful. 
“Spencer.” 
His name swelled in your throat like that throbbing love, and you couldn’t help yourself from reaching out and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. Because of course, words weren’t enough. You smothered him with your mouth, trying desperately to communicate every ounce of passion and gratefulness you were feeling with the heat of that kiss. 
Spencer held you, engulfing both your cheeks with his large, warm hands, kissing you back with just as much intensity. 
Both of you lingered there for a few moments, savoring each other’s lips, mingling in each other’s breath. 
You were disappointed when Spencer pulled away. 
“There is something else.” He told you, a bit of glee edging on his voice. 
“What?” You gaped, shocked by this. 
“There’s something else I have to give you. Another part of your present.” He clarified, pulling back completely - likely in order to fetch this thing. 
You let out a breath. You weren’t sure how this magnificent man could possibly do more. 
You placed the certificate for the star down on the table where Spencer had kept it. Later, you would take it home and have it framed, wanting to display it proudly. You could imagine yourself putting it up in the front of your home when you eventually moved in with Spencer. You could put it next to your marriage certificate; eventually, put next to wedding photos when the two of you eventually got married. (And sometime later, it would be hanging alongside photos of you and Spencer with your kids. You tingled, realizing that this was the first time you had ever thought of having kids with him, but it fit so well. It seemed right.) 
The thought made you tingle. 
You could truly imagine yourself having a life with Spencer. Standing proudly because this was just the beginning of it. He truly felt like ‘the one’ you had always been waiting for. 
“Here.” 
Spencer’s voice pulled you from your plethora of dreamy thoughts, and you turned to see him holding a velvet box. Your heart skipped a beat at the passing thought that it might be the box - but no. Now wasn’t the time. The two of you had only been dating for a year and a half. And while you were so deeply in love, you knew that it was a bit haste to assume that he was ready for marriage when you were his first serious girlfriend. You were still both so young. 
He opened the lid and you let out a small gasp when you saw it. 
It was a simple, elegant silver necklace. The pendant was a four pointed star, with a small, dainty stone in the middle. You easily recognized it as your birthstone, meant to represent the fact that he had given it to you on your birthday. And obviously the star pendant as a whole represented that he had also gifted you a literal star in the sky on that same day. 
“Spencer, it’s so beautiful.” You said, utterly breathless. 
“Traditionally, the four pointed star is believed to represent the designation of a goal. It marks one’s great endeavors, because it seems to point to the four cardinal directions. This star is meant to guide someone, like a map - the way that sailors used the stars to guide their path.” 
Spencer explained, knowledgeable as he always was. 
“I - I chose this for you because… well, because when I met you, I felt as though I had accomplished great things in all areas of my life, except for one. Academically, I was satisfied. In my career, I was happy. But when it came to matters of the heart… I was utterly clueless. And when I found you… it felt like you were my guiding star. Like you were the person I had been waiting for to finally show me - show me the meaning of love.” 
“Oh, Spencer.” Your voice cracked around these words, barely able to form them. “Oh, honey. I love you so much. Thank you.” 
It was all your mind could gather at the moment. It wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, but it was certainly one of the most intense. 
“I love you too.” He replied. Through the dimness, you could almost see tears forming in his eyes. “You truly make me so happy.” 
Spencer then cleared his throat harshly, wanting to clear away his intensely emotional tears. 
“Can - can I put it on you?” He asked shyly, motioning with the necklace in its box. 
“Of course.” You grinned. “I’d love that.” 
You turned around and Spencer took it out of the box, fiddling with the dainty clasp for a moment before he put it around your neck and then did it up for you. It felt so right around your neck. It felt like his love was being carried with you. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t want to take it off anytime soon. You could easily imagine yourself feeling so proud to answer whenever random strangers or your co-workers asked where it was from. 
When it was secured around your neck, Spencer leaned in and laid a gentle, open-mouthed kiss against the chain. This simple act reminded you of that needy throb between your thighs; of what you had been wanting so badly the moment you had come in the door. 
“So…” He whispered against your neck. “What else does the birthday girl want?” 
“I can think of a few things.” 
That was how you ended up with your back pressed against the softness of the couch - too impatient to even make it to the bed - with your dress pushed up around your waist, your panties tossed somewhere in the middle of the living room rug. Spencer’s glasses were pressed up onto his forehead while his knees dug into that same rug, his fingers splayed across your thighs, holding you open to makeway for his tongue. 
He ate you out with all of the intensity and passion that he had kissed you with - moaning into your pussy as though he was singing directly to the gods. 
“Fuck, Spence.” You moaned, raking your hands through his hair, holding him close - not that he would want to pull away for even a second. 
He loved your taste more than anything in the world, and he savored every second that he got the privilege of being on his knees for you. He moaned into your pussy, loudly, almost pathetically - hot echoes coming from his lungs as though he was the one being pleasured. He laved his tongue across you with an open jaw, drinking in as much of you as possible while your thighs quaked around his head. Your nails dug into his scalp and he only moaned harder, loving the sound of your needy whines and your gasping breaths as your clit throbbed under his tongue. 
Spencer hummed in delight while he bounced your clit on his tongue, loving the feeling of that sweet little bead throbbing against him; loving your taste, loving your echoing moans. Loving how much he could bring you pleasure. 
“Fuck, Spence, so close!” 
He put his lips around you and sucked then, holding you gently against him by the hips. He couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of your body quaking against his face while your orgasm overtook you. It was overwhelming and beautiful and warmed your whole body - just like the love you felt for him. 
He pulled away after a moment, when he was sure that he had seen you through to the satisfying end, and he grinned against the mound of your pussy. 
“Happy birthday, pretty girl.” 
… 
After the break-up, Spencer often looked up to the sky and thought about you. 
On the nights when your star was in place overhead, he felt a particular pang in his chest. He wondered where you were and what you were doing. He wondered if you were safe. He spent many nights staring out his telescope, wondering if you were happy, blanketed under that inky sky. 
You thought about the star sometimes, too. 
You thought it was a lot like your relationship with Spencer. Placing all of your hopes and dreams onto something already dead - something where the light had died out long ago.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Three - Turn It Off
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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months
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someone's there
Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack
Repost
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You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.
You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.
Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.
And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.
The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.
You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.
She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"
Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.
Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.
You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.
Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.
The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.
The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.
Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.
The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.
You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.
The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.
"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.
The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.
"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.
You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.
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By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.
You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.
But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.
To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.
You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.
You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.
As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.
Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.
He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.
You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.
You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.
He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.
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You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.
It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.
You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.
You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.
"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.
"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.
"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.
"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."
"The pizza place?"
"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."
You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.
"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.
"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.
"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."
"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.
The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.
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"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."
June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.
Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.
Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.
You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.
Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.
A teenager was on the phone with the police.
You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.
The door swung open, letting in a draft.
Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.
Sirens.
"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.
A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.
"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.
You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.
"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.
"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.
You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.
You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.
"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"
He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."
You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.
"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"Take me home, Buck."
fin.
buy me a coffee
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imthatqueerkid · 1 year
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I'll Never Date A Fuckboy - LN
Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Summary: Lando doesn't think it's a crime to enjoy a woman's company but when his friend refuses him for his reputation and believing she'll be thrown aside as a result. He proves he always gets want he wants.
PSA this is kind of fucked up ngl
Themes/warnings: Kidnapping, abuse of power, bad tempers, "training", friend!reader, slut-shaming(ish), voyeurism (somewhat dubcon), dom!Lando-ish vibes, restraints, a bit of a sweet ending (? as sweet as an ending as I could make for this fic?)
I may decide to do a small part 2, it would be much shorter but kind of a peak into what becomes of them
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Y/n isn't sure how she ended up in Lando's apartment but their night out with friends has somehow led to here. Dwelling on why would be too much of a headache right now.
But when them sitting on the sofa eating McDonald's together turns into her finding herself in a very hot and heavy kiss she has so snap herself out of it and remember her self-respect is still intact. She hasn't drank that much.
"I should go." Y/n states grimacing just at the thought of how many other girls saliva is in her mouth.
She needs to brush her teeth and watch her mouth out with mouthwash now. Or even some strong alcohol might do the job.
"What? Why?" Lando frowns watching her stand up and literally trip and fall over the coffee table leg.
"Ow." Y/n winces to herself before she tries to get up again.
"Y/n, will you calm down? What's wrong?"
"I just...we are not going down that route. I'm not being another name on a list for your fans to condemn for being a slut-or-or a gold digger and I have enough self-respect that you have a solid group of women to rely on for sex."
"What are you'd talking about?" Lando frowns looking completely confused over the whole thing. She's just not making sense.
"You're a fuckboy, Lando! And I will never date, fuck, involve myself like that with a fuckboy. It's not your fault, it's not something you need to change but I'm not going to put myself through that." Y/n states moving to grab her stuff. "You're a great friend, I love you as a person. But in the same way that I love Max and P and all our other friends. That kiss...is a mistake and we both need to forget it happened. Ok?"
"Are you serious? You're rejecting and shaming me for being with other women before you?" Lando scoffs catching her wrist and while he's not holding her to a bruising degree. He's holding her tight enough that she's locked in his hold and unable to escape. "And how many men have got between your legs in your life?"
"Lando, let go of me." Y/n grunts trying to escape his grip despite knowing that he's too strong to attempt overpowering him. So instead she gets angry. "You've literally had your tongue in like 6 girls mouths tonight and I don't even want to think about the potential diseases on your hand from where you've touched them. So let go of me."
"Alright, but will you calm down before you leave? We're still friends, I don't-I don't want you leaving when you're clearly drunk and upset."
Now admittedly in a logical and rational way that makes the most sense, and while her drunk self wants to tell him to fuck himself because his previous comment hurt. She knows she's spoken more harshly towards him. So it's only fair that she just calm herself down before making one exit.
"Ok, but can you let go please?" Y/n mumbles proving that she is going to calm down.
-
Every time Lando touched another woman, especially when he was having sex with her, y/n is at the front of his mind.
Watching another woman leave his hotel room, he groans rubbing his hands over his face.
The thoughts of a solution were going against any right pointing moral compass and he wishes he hated himself for plotting to go through with it.
He figured it would take some smart strategy since things had been tense and awkward despite the agreement that they'd pretend the kiss and night never happened.
He decided to make her the only one invited to Monaco and while he knows his family and friends find it suspicious to not be invited. He knows they won't ask or question him about it, after all they know his invitation is a privilege to get. Not a right.
Seeing y/n enjoy her weekend and document it all is pretty fun. He almost feels a pinch of guilt knowing how it's going to end.
He's arranged it all and he's not going to let it go wrong.
After getting a good race result, he goes for media and debrief before grabbing y/n and pulling her to his apartment saying they need to change for the night out with other drivers.
Y/n could've never expected being cuffed to a radiator (does anywhere have radiators outside of England anymore idk, but for the sake of this fic we're saying he got at least one radiator and it's in his bedroom). She couldn't have imagined he'd gag her and when tears are blurring her vision, she is left at his mercy.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll be back." Lando smiles gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb before he leans forward feeling her flinch when he kisses her forehead. "I'm trusting you to behave while I'm gone, ok?"
Y/n whines behind the gag more tears appearing to flood her face.
"It'll be ok." Lando promises with another smile. "Don't move."
-
Now admittedly it's a risk, but this girl seems to be drunk enough to be level with Lando who used liquid courage to continue following through on at least this part of the plan. The only part that holds such significant risk.
Y/n's head snaps up only visible to Lando from where she's curled up in the corner of the room. Clearly having been obedient to his instructions.
"Fuck." Lando groans as lies back on the bed as the girl slides a condom on and climbs on top of him, beginning to bounce on him while y/n watches silently. Admittedly the darkness of the room and her position probably allows for a limited view, but neither Lando nor the girl are being quiet.
Now Lando doesn't want to finish so after managing to pull her girl off and give her head till she orgasms. He doesn't care to save feelings when he not so subtly helps her redress and shows her the door, tossing the condom off into the bin before he gets back to the bedroom, momentarily tucking himself into his shorts that he'd picked up while dressing the girl who he never bothered to learn the name of.
"Hey, love." Lando greets crouching in front of y/n while she takes heavy and unsteady breaths looking at him. "Oh come on, there's no need for tears...but you're going to finish the job ok?"
Y/n nods seemingly agreeing out of fear more than anything.
"Good girl. Now if you try to run, or scream or bite or do anything I don't think is ok. This is going to be a long and hard journey." Lando states before reaching around the back of her head and undoing the gag making her cough and heave a little.
After grabbing the keys to unlock her wrists from the cuffs he sighs placing her on the bed and wanting to test something as part of his theory.
"Did watching turn you on?" Lando questions making her close her thighs trying to block his hand from touching her to test his theory. "I thought you were going to behave."
"I-I'm sorry." Y/n chokes out, not fighting him as much as he's sure she wants to. But when his hand force her thighs apart again and he laughs lightly pressing a finger under her damp underwear. He clicks his tongue.
"For someone who doesn't want a fuckboy. You really seem to be lying." Lando states shaking his head before he moves up pulling her back down to the edge of the bed. "On you knees, I want to see how your mouth feels."
Y/n doesn't even stop herself from getting down on her knees as he sits on the bed, gathering her hair into a hand. The wet warmth of her tongue hits the top of his dick before the rest of her mouth follows. And while he lets her initially lead the pace, his patience somewhat spent. He begins bobbing her head faster and reaching a new depth that, on his side, is euphoric.
There's no option of being a quitter who spits when he groans holding her down as deep as he can force himself. Cum shooting down her throat and seemingly not stopping as he feels himself throbbing in her twitching and pulsing throat, forced to swallow everything before he manages to press even deeper for a couple seconds enjoying the moment and sensation before finally allowing her the air she's being blocked from.
Y/n hiccups between coughing and gasping for air while Lando feels what he knew he'd feel afterwards with y/n. The urge to comfort and love her.
"Come here, baby." Lando smiles making her practically crawl up.
Y/n is the exact type of person who needs comfort in times of distress even in times when the only person available to give her any comfort is the person who caused the distress.
"Let's get you changed into something more comfortable and then I think you and I both need to sleep." Lando states making her sniffle and nod.
"Ok." Y/n whispers though her voice sounds like he may have actually given a couple jabs at her vocal cords.
"Are you ok?" Lando questions knowing from his side this is more of a test while y/n is too caught up in herself to be thinking about Lando's ulterior motives in the question.
"I think so." Y/n mumbles before she swallows thickly. "Can I have some water?"
"Yeah, you just wait here." Lando nods gently hoisting her to the bed.
-
When morning comes around the shock has definitely worn off and y/n is not feeling as eager to find comfort in Lando.
"You kidnapped me and you used me!" Y/n hisses while Lando eats his breakfast of overnight oats. "I'm not worth this, Lando. You-you can choose so many girls. SO MANY and not abduct them and hold them hostage."
"I think I've made it obvious I don't want those other girls." Lando frowns before watching her yank at the roots of her hair in frustration.
"You can't do this, Lando...if we were ever friends you'd not be doing this." Y/n stresses swallowing thickly before she hiccups feeling her emotions get the better of her. "Lando please."
Lando sighs placing down the little jar before he moves over and cups her face, earning a flinch from her but she's trapped in his hold.
"I don't want to have to leave you here...don't make me do that, y/n." Lando sighs while she watches him with sad eyes. "I can be so good to you, the best man you've ever had in your life."
"What do you mean you're going to leave me here?" Y/n mumbles making him refrain from rolling his eyes.
"I have to go over to Canada in a couple days, where you'll be in the hotel and stay in the hotel." Lando states earning a thick swallow.
-
Lando decided cuffing her ankles was a better and likely safer option to keep her in the room. Long enough for her to get to the en suite but since it's a suit she can't get all the way to the door. Though there's a do not disturb sign to make sure housekeeping don't find her either.
She's killed her time just flicking through Netflix, not bothering with an attempt at escape. It's unlikely going to get her far. She's in Canada for fuck sake with no phone, no money, no ID and if she told people that he'd kidnapped her, he could probably find a way to pay them.
"Hello, gorgeous." Lando smiles and to y/n's surprise she smiles for a split second before forcing it to drop. "What? Have you not had a good day?"
"Would've been good if I could leave the room." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh from the F1 driver. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"It's alright, but I have to be able to trust that you're not just going to leave." Lando smiles sadly before he gently rubs her back as he sits down. "I love you."
Y/n doesn't reply, not being able to say anything before she huffs and keeps her mouth shut.
"Did you watch qualifying?" Lando asks making her look at him for a moment before she nods.
"Front row is pretty good." Y/n mumbles then throwing her leg up onto the bed. "Can you unlock it so I can go in the bath?"
"Can I join you?" Lando smirks gently playing with the restraint.
"Yes." Y/n mutters earning a hum. "You know I don't hate you."
"Good. I don't want you to hate me." Lando smiles rubbing her leg, quite enjoying the sight of her in crop top and a pair of his boxers as her choice of outfit for the day.
He sighs pulling the key from his pocket to giving her the freedom, leaning back a little to watch as she gets up and jogs to the bathroom.
She returns leaving the water to run for a bit since the bath is pretty huge and it doesn't need to be watched just to fill for the most part.
"Can I ask something...and don't get mad?"
"Go on..."
"Do you really not want anyone else?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her for a split second before he laughs a little.
"You think I'd go to this length if I wanted anyone else? I don't."
"But why do you want me." Y/n almost whispers then jumping a little as he pulls her forward towards himself.
"I want you because when we kissed. It was the best fucking kiss of my life and when I wake up next to you, the first thing I want is to get inside of you. God I always want to be inside you." Lando groans just at the thought.
It shouldn't feel as flattering as it does.
"Do you really mean it when you say you love me?"
"Stop." Lando instructs suddenly making her frown. "We're moving at a pace that isn't going to rush you into doing stuff you'll have doubts about. I've thrown you in the deep end but from here we're easing you into everything else slowly."
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Class clown
class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always
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"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"
"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."
You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?
But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."
You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.
"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.
Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.
Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.
You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.
But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."
"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.
"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.
"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.
"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.
"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."
"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.
"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.
"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.
"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.
"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"
He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.
Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.
"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."
"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.
"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.
"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.
But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."
You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"
"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.
You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"
You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"
"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."
You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."
"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."
"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"
"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.
"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.
"Baby, please, slow down?"
"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"
"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.
"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"
You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."
"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.
"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.
He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."
"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."
"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"
"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.
"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.
"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.
"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"
It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.
"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.
"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.
But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"
"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"
He really is insane.
____________________
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holllandtrash · 1 year
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the people's princess | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x princess!reader (selin yagcioglu faceclaim)
everyone thought charles was the princess of monaco but when the real one comes out hiding and slowly inserts herself into the world of f1, suddenly 2 princesses don't seem so bad i know very little about royalty and monarchs so uhh dont come for me
princessyn.updates
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liked by dailyceleb, monaco.daily and 25,91 others
princessyn.updates meet the 22-year-old Princess, who is set to be Monaco's first female monarch since the 17th century. Y/N has kept out of the spotlight for much of her youth as she focused on academics until recently where it is announced she attended Collège Alpin Beau Soleil in Switzerland and Kings College of London
view all 612 comments
genzprincesses where the hell has she been hiding
userjanessa this is now a y/n fan account
perceval_lordsharl this is a lie, charles leclerc is the TRUE princess of monaco
monacomonarchynews
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liked by monaco.daily, princessyn.updates and 18,103 others
monacomonarchynews The 23-year-old Princess, Y/N is the only child of Albert II, Prince of Monaco. Y/N has studied abroad in the United States, Sweden and in Dubai up until recently. She has now returned to Monaco and has shifted her studies to the Monarchy.
view all 412 comments
userjanessa this is conflicting information
ynismommy hello didn't another account say shes 22 and studied in switzerland and london?? what is the truth
allthefandoms so no one knows anything about her is what it seems like
fantasy_leagues_lewis kinda sus...charles would never
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driverupdates
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liked by carlossleclerc, paddocklewis and 17,204 others
driverupdates charles leclerc seen back in monaco following the australian grand prix!
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hunnyseb he's calling fred and putting in his 2 weeks after the chaos that was sunday
sharls16 hes angry but he's pretty
pole.positions he needs this break more than any other driver lmaaao
yn.ofmonaco
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liked by daily.celeb, ynfanclub and 19,182 others
yn.ofmonaco happy to be home
view all 2,104 comments
ynfanclub she is the moment
userjanessa i've been WAITING for her first post and the princess did not dissapoint
sharls16 maybe charles will be in a better mood once he meets the literal princess of monaco
happyhamilton ??? are they. .. supposed to meet? sharls16 i mean, why wouldn't they? he's f1 royalty and she's ROYALTY royalty both from monaco lestappen i would pay so much money to see them together r u kidding
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princessyn.updates
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liked by ynismommy, monaco.daily and 24,192 others
princessyn.updates Y/N has just arrived at the Fondation Prince Albert II de Monaco Gala ! This is the first public event she has attended but we hope to see more of her as she settles into life as a Royal in Monaco
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ynismommy okay i luv her
yellowferrari wait didn't charles go to this thing last year?? what if he's here this year too 👀👀
charschumick ARE WE GONNA GET A ROYAL ON ROYAL MEET UP FINALLY
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yn.ofmonaco
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liked by lewishamilton, princessyn.updates and 46,102 others
yn.ofmonaco so happy to have been able to attend the Fondation Prince Albert II de Monaco gala tonight, as a girl i was always so inspired by my father and what he has given back to this country. I can't wait to have a bigger role in this organisation moving forward ♡
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ynismommy oh shes smart kind AND charitable
user.schumacher if charles doesn't date her i will
ferrarisandmclarens lewis hamilton what are you doing here in her likes
gussellreorge im sorry but the fact that she doesnt even follow 8 time world champion lewis hamilton but he's still out here liking her pictures...like the drivers know shes a catch leclercswatch idc about her and lewis i care about the non-existent her and charles
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princessyn.updates
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liked by charles_leclerc, monaco.daily and 28,216 others
princessyn.updates Princess Y/N is back in Boston this week as she has been invited to be a keynote speaker at Massachusetts Institute of Technology
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usermclaren ok so we all heard that charles liked this post and came here to see if it was true right
sharl16 he's making moves usermclaren is he?
bottasspls so is she a business bitch or a princess
ynismommy both
charles_leclerc added to their story
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yn.ofmonaco
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liked by lewishamilton, princessyn.updates and 59,827 others
yn.ofmonaco What a whirlwind couple of days! I will never take anything in life for granted, thank you mitsloan for inviting me back to speak to future graduates and thank you to the kind stranger at the train station who helped me figure out where I was going (also I just learned what a photo dumb was...did I do it right?)
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ynismommy sweetheart its a photo DUMP
mclarenstractors my favorite thing about Y/N is that she understands social media about as much as my 45 year old mother does
pierregasly 8/10 on the boston dump
yn.ofmonaco That's a passing grade, I will take it!
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francisca.cgomes
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liked by pierregasly, joris__trouche and 32,765 othes
francisca.cgomes what's better than a last minute trip to nyc
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pierregasly you almost said no
francisca.cgomes but i made it
camii_18 her and pierre are so cute 🥺🥺
bottastappen am i insane or is that the princess of monaco herself in that last picture
ynismommy Y/N was hanging out with kika AND pierre?? i need a 2000 word essay on how this came to be with citations
sharlandsainz but where is charles why isn't he in any photos or did he leave before the princess showed up 🥲
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inthepits.podcast added to their story
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yn.ofmonaco
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liked by francisca.cgomes, charles_leclerc and 53,102 others
yn.ofmonaco Art has always been a passion of mind and to be able to accompany Establishment Preschool Des Carmes during their trip to the art gallery was so inspiring and I hope to do it again soon with other schools
view all 3,2100
ynfanclub she is quite literally an angel
formulafirstpls i have it in my head that she is genuinely the sweetest person to ever exist and honestly, i think i'm right
francisca.cgomes 🥹🥹
charles_leclerc Quelle expérience amusante! What a fun experience!
yn.ofmonaco Tu devrais nous rejoindre la prochaine fois! You should join us next time! liked by charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yn.ofmonaco, pierregasly and 412,103 others
charles_leclerc miamiiiii 🌴☀️🏎 ready for the weekend
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scuderiaferrari game face on
f1mia we're ready for the ferrari boys 🏎❤️
yn.ofmonaco Make Monaco proud!
charles_leclerc i will do my best 😊
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yn.ofmonaco
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liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 78,102 others
yn.ofmonaco It only makes sense that my first Grand Prix is Monaco❤️ While I'm thankful for the experiences I had as a child that led me to studying around the world, I must say it's an incredible feeling to be home and cheering on charles_leclerc and scuderaferrari 🏁
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scuderiaferrari and we're so happy to have you here ❤️
ynismommy SHES CHEERING ON CHARLES
ynfanclub WHY WOULDN'T SHE BE HE'S LITERALLY FROM MONACO
sharl16 one princess cheering on another princess
charles_leclerc 😊😊😊😊
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by yn.ofmonaco, carlossainz55 and 513,443 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
scuderiaferrari And for the first time Charles Leclerc is a RACE WINNER at his home race, the pinnacle of Motorsport, THE MONACO GRAND PRIX🏁🏎😎 Well deserved win for our Monegasque driver❤️
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charles_leclerc thank you thank you❤️
yn.ofmonaco Well deserved indeed! Well done charles_leclerc!
charles_leclerc thank you y/n😊 means even more that you and your family were there to watch today liked by yn.ofmonaco yellowferraris this is not a drill, the princess of monaco has FINALLY followed charles back and now they are being all cute and friendly in the comments hannah_notmontana she was waiting for him to actually make monaco proud before tossing the follow 💀💀
yn.ofmonaco
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liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 155,283 others
yn.ofmonaco Had to go through the archives to find this one, but congratulations to my longtime friend charles_leclerc for his Monaco win today! Sundays are officially my new favourite day of the week❤️
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charles_leclerc so much love for you, merci y/n
ynfanclub YA'LL THEY HAVE BEEN FRIENDS THIS WHOLE TIME ARE YOU KIDDING
ynismommy oh my good god we've been bamboozled
pierregasly now that the princess is out of hiding you have to give the crown back charles_leclerc
yn.ofmonaco What does this mean? pierregasly charles has been deemed monaco's princess since you have been gone🤣 charles_leclerc 😐😐😐 yn.ofmonaco Ohh, it's okay charles_leclerc you can keep the crown as long as I get the title haha charles_leclerc i am not a princess scuderiaferrari not with that attitude liked by yn.ofmonaco and pierregasly
aaaand im back with another long smau hehe this was fun, if you made it this far thank you and ily and check out my masterlist here
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jazzyoranges · 5 months
Note
Can you write a friends with benefits situation Wednesday or Tara has with gp reader? Wednesday or Tara enforces a no strings attach policy but of course reader has to catch feelings and admits their feelings. It freaks Tara/wednesday and causes her to push them away and ghost them effectively hurting the reader who after a while tries to rebound with another girl causing major jealousy from Tara/Wednesday. You can choose the ending I just wanna see some jealous smut and angst mix in there 😩
She’s my Collar
Wednesday Addams x fem!werewolf!reader
Words: 4.6k (whoopsies)
Warnings: gp!reader, definitely ooc Wednesday, heat cycles, unprotected sex, knotting, explicit smut, everyone is 18+, Wednesday calls you a mutt and a puppy, breeding kink, is it really pet play if you’re actually a pet?, italian/spanish pet names and phrases, possessive Wednesday, fluff, angst i think
A/n: so sorry it took so long for me to write this anon who requested 😓 could be read as a prequel to this fic, but not specifically written as one. also i kinda strayed away from the original request, sorry about that too 😭🫶
MINORS DNI!
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Wednesday didn’t want to admit it, but she was feeling a certain emotion that was completely undesirable. You’ve been out sick for an entire week. Wednesday hadn’t seen you in the last 8 days, 17 hours, and 42 minutes. But who was counting? Definitely not the Addams girl
Others would say Wednesday looked the same as any other week, but Enid’s roommate senses were tingling. Constantly fiddling with her rings, the very prominent scowl on her face that was meaner than usual, and the common frustrated grunts when Wednesday would make a mistake with her writing. Something was up, and not even god herself couldn’t stop Enid from figuring it out
While Wednesday was smart in every aspect except social, Enid’s people smarts came in useful every now and again. It really didn’t take long for her to piece two and two together. Angry roommate while someone she frequently hung out with was out sick? It was child’s play, really. All she needed to do was have Wednesday come to the same conclusion as her
Easier said that done, really. Wednesday was a knucklehead not so smart when it came to emotions. Any emotion other than creating despair, Wednesday struggled with. Luckily Enid was dedicated and also a knucklehead
Currently Wednesday was seated at her desk, simply staring at a blank piece of paper without moving. On any normal day her fingers would be speeding across the typewriter with ideas constantly coming to her. Now she was met with absolute digital silence from her mind, which proved to be discouraging and inconvenient to say the least
“Alright, Wednesday. What’s going on?”
“I have not a clue what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve been different this entire week. Spill the beans”
“As I’ve just said, I don’t have the information you want.”
“It’s because you haven’t seen her all week, right? You miss her, don’t you?”
“Why would I miss that mutt of a werewolf? I do not miss Y/n.”
“I never said her name, yet you know exactly who I’m talking about. Funny how that works, Wednesday” Enid teases. Her roomie has been caught red handed
“If you want your tongue, I’d recommend you stop talking.”
“Cmon, Wednesday, I’m being serious. It’s not weird to miss a friend. How about you check up on her?”
“First, I do not miss her. Second, she is definitely fine. I do not need to check up on her.”
“She’s been out sick for an entire week. She texted me just today the sickness isn’t showing any signs of stopping”
“Why has she not called the nurse, then?”
“She told me they ran out of the medicine she needs. The sickness is werewolf specific. I’ve gotten it before and it hurt like a bitch without medicine”
“What kind of school clinic runs out of medicine?” Wednesday says under her breath while getting up. Presumably to check on you, Enid assumes
“It’s really high in demand right now. It only infects werewolves, so you won’t catch it”
“I suppose I’ll ask Y/n on the specifics of her current condition. Perhaps it could be a part in my writings.”
“I’m sure it will be, Wednesday. Tell me how it goes!” Enid waves goodbye to Wednesday as she exits, and the Addams misses her roommates wolfish grin
Luckily your dorm isn’t too far away from Ophelia hall but it’s still a considerable walk to and from. The walk there gives Wednesday enough time to really question why she was doing this. She did not care for you, that was most definitely certain. At least that’s what Wednesday kept telling herself when she neared your room
The Addams girl hesitated before she knocked on your door. She could hear you whimpering and whining in pain, your tail quickly thumping against your bed. The shorter girl bit the bullet and held her fist against the door, quickly knocking on it
“Open up, Y/n or I’ll be forced to axe down your door.”
“Go away, Wednesday” Your voice was muffled
“Either I pick your lock or you open this door. Make your decision.”
Wednesday hears your feel shuffle to the door, and you open it just enough for your eye to peek out. Wednesday immediately notices your flushed skin and dark eye bags. You’re only wearing a tank top and boxers, trying to hide your lower body behind the door
“What do you want?” You spit out a bit more aggressively than you mean to
“I’ve come to check up on your illness”
“I’m uh- I’m okay. You can go now, Wednesday”
“You obviously aren’t, you haven’t gone to your classes all week.”
“Listen, I’m not actually sick. If I tell you what’s actually happening, promise you won’t freak out?”
“I promise.”
You suck in a breath to calm your nerves. “I’m in heat. The school clinic ran out of suppressants, so I haven’t been able to come to classes”
Wednesday looked you up and down, and in a split second she felt something she hadn’t before. Something about how your wolfish features came out. Ears were pressed against your head, tail hung low and swaying softly, and Wednesday noticed your fangs poke out when you spoke
“Let me help you.”
“W-What?” You momentarily stoped holding the door, and Wednesday let herself inside. Wednesday was immediately hit with a musk that was so… you. Werewolves weren’t her major, but she could tell you’ve marked your entire room with your own scent. Something about it made Wednesday’s mind think of all the unspeakable things she wanted to do to you
“Uh, sorry for the mess. And sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad…” You shift on your feet, and it’s only then Wednesday notices the tent in your boxers. Quickly mumbling out apology after apology, you move your tail so it covers your growing erection
“Stop apologizing, it’s getting quite annoying. I said I’d help you, did I not?”
“Help me like..?”
“Yes. Help you as in having sexual intercourse”
Your cheeks flush red and you have to actively stop your tail from wagging in excitement. Wednesday takes a step closer, but you take a step back
“A-Are you sure? You’re human, and I’m a werewolf. Your body isn’t designed to handle our heats”
Wednesday takes another step closer to you, grabbing your neck to make you look straight in her eyes. You can’t stop the whimper that escapes your throat
“I decide what I can handle.” The shorter girl firmly gropes at your clothed erection, and you moan at the contact
“Wednesday, I-”
“A dumb puppy is what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you were in heat?”
“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d care” When Wednesday starts to massage your clothed cock more roughly, she earns another moan out of your throat
“Please, please make it better, Wednesday. It hurts so fucking much” You whimper, and Wednesday wonders if you’d look good in a collar with her name on it. She’d have to save that idea for a different day.
“Puppy.”
“Wednesday?”
“Take everything off. I want to see all of you.”
Wordlessly, you start to strip, which doesn’t take long since you’re barely wearing any clothes. Your mindless obedience made Wednesday happy. You start with your tank top and the Addams chooses to observe every part of you. Wednesday notices you’re considerably more furry than usual, your happy trail showing just above your boxer briefs
“Are you sure?” You ask nervously when you reach your boxers, and Wednesday is getting considerably more impatient
“Do I have to do everything for you?” Wednesday mutters while she takes off your boxers instead. The shorter girl sucks in a breath when your hardened cock slaps against your stomach
Wednesday didn’t expect you to be so… lewdly big. Looking at the size of your erection only reminded her your body was meant to breed. You were designed to reproduce, and the thought turned Wednesday on more than she liked
The shorter girl pushes you onto your bed, and she takes a second to look at the state you’re in
“Please, Wednesday…” You whine
“Be patient, Y/n. You’ll get there eventually”
“It hurts so much, please I can’t wait” Begging harder, Wednesday doesn’t likehow her first instinct is to give you what you want
“You’re lucky I tolerate you. If you were any other person, I’d think this was dehumanizing.” She pushes you further back, licking a stripe up your tip and across a vein. You have to stop yourself from cumming embarrassingly quick
Wednesday keeps giving your shaft long kitten-licks and you’re in heaven when she finally decides to suck your tip with a new type of hunger.
And due to previous attempts at suppressing your heat by yourself, your cock was absolutely raw at how much you masturbated. It only made Wednesday’s tongue feel even better
She hollows out her cheeks, making your tip hit the back of her throat. This earns a groan from the back of your throat. You didn’t know if touching was allowed due to her track record of broken arms and hands, so you decide to play it safe by just holding onto your bedsheets for dear life
“F-Fuck, I’m about to-“ Before you can finish your sentence, Wednesday pulls away from your cock. The look on your face is something Wednesday would like to cherish. Your penis was twitching like crazy. It was drooling with pre-cum and the shorter girls saliva. She couldn’t help but admire how you shook under her
“Why’d you stop?” Whining seemed to be a strong suit of yours
“In me.” Wednesday wipes a bit of her saliva off her chin, and you swear it’s the most attractive thing ever “Now.”
“Huh?”
“You know what I mean. Really, do I always have to spell it out for you?”
“You have to cut me some slack here, Wens…”
“I suppose I could provide an understanding for your view. You’re nothing but a dumb pup, are you not? Your kind is known to follow orders.”
“I think you’re confusing me with a domesticated dog, Wednesday”
“If I were to demand you pluck stars from the night, you would, would you not?”
“I mean I would, but for different reasons…”
“My point still stands.” Wednesday mumbles, sinking down on your erection. You don’t remember when she got naked, but you’re also not exactly complaining
The Addams holds onto your shoulders for support, and you hesitate before putting your hands on her hips. Luckily you made the right choice, your warm hands directly polar to Wednesday’s.
It takes a little effort for Wednesday to completely take in your cock, but the stretch is worth it when she sees your labored breathing like she’s the best pussy you’ve ever had. Which, Wednesday wouldn’t admit she was proud of. She could feel every vein on your cock and every twitch made her spiral into thoughts of you
The sight is funny, you think. The Wednesday Addams is impaled on your cock. The Wednesday Addams that saved Nevermore. The Wednesday Addams that was notorious for being gorgeously scary. That Wednesday Addams was riding your dick like her life depended on it.
Skin slapping together was music to your ears, and the feeling in your lower stomach you recognized well was rapidly building up. Wednesday came with a hitch in her breath, and you reluctantly pulled out before releasing your own cum with a groan. Both of you are left breathing hard.
“There will be a silver bullet in your skull if you so much as think about telling anyone about this.” Wednesday mutters in between breaths.
“Duly noted.”
You’ve been in this arrangement with Wednesday for about 4 months, now
The first month consisted of a casual fuck here and there. After a particularly hard week, teachers being annoying, or a hard test. It wasn’t difficult to keep your situation away from your friends. For all they knew, you two were still the platonic match-made-in-hell duo that were strictly friends
The second month was a little harder to keep your situation away from your friends. Wednesday would randomly pull you into any empty closet or classroom she could for a quick orgasm to get her through the day
The third month was rough. You two went on dates as you liked to call it, but Wednesday would call them study sessions or hangouts. Trips to Jericho on the weekend, Wednesday helping you with botany, it was practically impossible to separate both of you. Unfortunately your friends became suspicious
So during the fourth month, a new vampire transferred to Nevermore. You were assigned to give her a tour of the school and her classes. When Wednesday saw you two hang out when you’d usually see the Addams, she suspected the tour went better than anticipated. What Wednesday expected to be a minor inconvenience for one day, caused her many unwanted thoughts. It made a vein pop out of her neck. (not literally, but that’s what it felt like)
Wednesday noticed how you two started spending more time together after and during school. Of course there was definitely a reasonable explanation, you were her only friend. Unfortunately a very minuscule part of her brain is telling her you like the new vampire more than the Addams. The thought didn’t sit right with her
You were supposed to be Wednesday’s. You were supposed to only have eyes for the Addams and not some vampire that doesn’t even make you half as happy as her. You would always be Wednesday’s. When you finally realized the vampire wasn’t enough to satiate your needs, Wednesday would be there. She would be there to catch your fall, and the thought made her uncomfortable.
Wednesday Addams, a feared individual that wore her heart tucked under enough layers of blunt sarcasm and a deathly scary look, yet once glance from you sent her spiraling into something between fear and love. She hated it. She hated you. Wednesday hated you for bringing this side out of her she swore to be kept away from the surface of her character.
The Addams couldn’t afford this. You were her weakness. You definitely knew this as well. Unwanted doubt flooded her mind. Thoughts that ended up with you exploiting her only weakness made her heart ache, and not in a way she enjoyed.
You would end up breaking off your relationship with the Addams, leaving her to be made a fool as you were the only one that could do it. The worst part is Wednesday couldn’t even be angry with you. She knew you deserved someone of your own kind. Another werewolf that would understand and satiate your needs. Wednesday would end the arrangement the next time she saw you.
“(L/n).”
“Wednesday?” You open up your door with a smile on your face. A sight for sore eyes is what you were.
“We cannot continue our arrangement.”
“What? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Wednesday wished she could take back her words, but she was doing this to keep herself safe. To make you happy.
“Our late night meetings can no longer continue. I’ve grown uncomfortable with your presence.”
“Wednesday, I-“
“A nuisance is what you are. You’re needy, and you can’t do anything by yourself. You really are just a dumb mutt. You are incapable of doing anything except cling to me like a lost child.” Wednesday spits out, and something akin to regret dawns on her face
Stray tears leave your eyes and you wipe them up as quickly as they fall, but Wednesday notices. She can tell you’re trying to be strong, your quivering lip giving you away
“I’m- I’m sorry you feel that way, Addams.” You say before turning your back on Wednesday, closing the door. Broken sobs escape your throat, and Wednesday brings her hand up to your doorknob. She thinks a little longer before a single tear falls from her eye. She turns to leave instead.
Three weeks, nearing four since you’ve last talked to Wednesday. You’ve been out for a week and a half and Wednesday knows exactly why. Since the Addams has been helping with your heats for the past few months, you haven’t needed to request for more suppressants. Neither you nor Wednesday knew why your heats were commonly hell-ish and lasted for weeks without the suppressants you desperately needed
Really, she could picture you right now. You would’ve found the boxers that created the least amount of friction, and you’d be whimpering and whining while your tail rapidly thumped against the bed mattress. Finding the nearest thing to bite, which usually happened to be your bed frame, you’d sink your teeth into the cold wood and find a splinter on your tongue the next time you brushed your teeth. Rinse and repeat until you eventually fell asleep or Wednesday saved you from your own body
It was pathetic how much you constantly needed Wednesday…and consequently, how much Wednesday needed you.
Disgusting is the only word Wednesday can choose when thinking of how much space in her mind you took up. She was seated in the Quad while eating an apple and contemplating her life. Which, was not in an ideal situation.
“I know you want to talk to her, Wednesday” Enid takes a seat near the shorter girl
“I do not.”
“I know for a fact you didn’t mean what you said. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to realize it”
“She has that new girl, does she not?”
“For the last time, Wednesday, they aren’t dating”
“They may as well be. The two are practically attached at the hip”
“So were you two, but then you decided to fuck it all up and haven’t talked to her since” Enid groans. This is was going to be harder than she thought
“Wednesday, you know how much I love you, right?”
“Annoyingly so.”
“Not-so-respectfully, you fucked up really bad. I know you didn’t mean it, but would you rather see her kiss another girl, or would you rather be the girl she kisses?”
The question makes Wednesday hesitate, and relief washes over Enid. Did she want to be with you? She mentally scoffs at the thought. The Wednesday Addams uncharacteristically soft for a girl. Outrageous. Disgusting. Absolutely unheard-
“Well, it seems you have your answer. Talk to her right now, ‘kay?” Enid knew her roomie would do the right thing even if it was gut wrenchingly difficult
The shorter girl only responds with a grumble, but it’s enough of an answer for Enid to skip away and continue being the social butterfly she was. Wednesday was going to… apologize to you. Just thinking of the word made her recoil, but it was you she was going to. As much as Wednesday didn’t like apologizing, she didn’t want to admit the thought of being away from you any longer was the worse option
She was almost in the same exact situation almost five months ago. Only this time you were sad, and it was Wednesday’s job to make you feel better (in more ways than one)
It didn’t take long getting to your dorm. She knew all of the correct routes and shortcuts to take. Wednesday was met with a tightly locked door and a knob that had collected dust after the past week and a half. She brought a hand to the door, knocking loudly
The Addams was only met with silence. That is, silence, with the exception of stray whines and whimpers
“It’s Wednesday.” Silence again.
“I know you’re in there. Ignore me and I’ll find other means to see you.” More silence
“You’ve made your decision.” The shorter girl sighs, taking a lock pick from her uniform pocket. Why she had a lock pick? For important situations like these, of course
When Wednesday finally managed to unlock your door, she noticed how you looked considerably worse than the first time the Addams decided to help you with your heat
What Wednesday didn’t expect was you fully naked sprawled on your bed. Bite marks littered your bed frame and a chew toy Wednesday bought to mock you, but it ended up being somewhat helpful. A low quality fan spun, only making your scent waft around the room even more. An air freshener was mentally added to her list of things to buy
“Go away, Wednesday.” You growled. You never growled. “If you’re here to mock me and call me a nuisance, I’d recommend you leave”
“I came to help.”
“You’ve full of bullshit, aren’t you?”
“I’m not lying, Y/n.”
“Go away, Wednesday, I’m not going to say it again.” The Addams only took this as an invitation to step closer to your bed where you were laying face down and a light blanket to cover your ass
When you only heard footsteps near, something inside you snapped. You were a werewolf. Not a puppy that said please with a tail between your legs. No, you would make Wednesday leave. Also you were sexually frustrated while in heat, so that was definitely fuel to your sour mood
Before she could register what had happened, you pinned the smaller girl to the floor. Your pupils contracted into small circles while there was a permanent snarl on your face
“I said, go away.” Your erection accidentally brushes against Wednesday’s thigh, and she was suddenly aware of how much self control you had for not already relentlessly stuffing the shorter girl full of your cum
“Knot me, cucciola.”
When the words leave Wednesday’s mouth, something in you changes. You’re overcome with sinful thoughts, and your cock starts to drool with precum at the image of Wednesday being full of you. It’s sinful, truly
“Is that why you came here? Just to be bred?”
“No, but it seems my words are working. You’re incredibly hard.” The shorter girl grabs your erection, jerking you off roughly
“Puppy.”
“Don’t… don’t call me that.” You say in between moans. Wednesday starts to sit up, and your back meets the side of your bed frame
“Cucciola wants to breed?”
“F-Fuck you.”
“We’re getting there, mi sol” The pet name accidentally slips, but you’re far too blissed out to notice
“She can’t make you feel as good as me, can she?”
“W-What? Who are you talking about?”
“You know who. The vampire that can’t get her hands off you.”
“Wednesday, we’re no-“ The shorter girl only started to stroke you faster. Her hand barely fit around your cock, but it still felt like heaven
“I don’t- I don’t like her that way” You say in between moans. Your orgasm was nearing and Wednesday knew this. She slowed down her pace, and you whined at the sudden loss of stimulation
“Knot me.”
“Huh?”
“Show me you don’t like her the way you like me.” You only notice your proximity after she speaks. Your noses are only inches apart. Wednesday’s eyes flick down to your lips, and you quickly close the distance
Wednesday was an addiction. Nicotine, acid, weed, none of it compared to how you felt while kissing Wednesday. You’d get drunk off her taste and crave it until she was in your arms once again. It was hell without her
When the shorter girl accidentally grinds on you, a surge of lust runs through your body. You quickly pick her up with your lips still attached to hers and take off her skirt. You couldn’t go another second without being in Wednesday
Sinking her onto your hardened erection, you let out a gasp of pleasure when her velvety walls stretch at your intrusion. You’re holding up her body by her thighs, and Wednesday just wishes you’d go faster.
“Cucciolo, ti amo.” The Addams moans when she looks down to see she’s only taken half of your length in her pussy. The sight is rather lewd, Wednesday thinks. Your cock is absolutely dripping with pre-cum when you push yourself further in her
“Mierda. Más, cachorro. Tan bueno para mi.” Wednesday slips into her native tongue. You haven’t seen her like this any other time she’s… helped you out
Bringing your lips to hers again, you decide to be in control when you push your tongue into her mouth. Eyes half lidded, bangs sticking to her forehead, and hair a bit disheveled, you think she’s never been prettier.
You let Wednesday rest a bit before sinking your cock deeper into her cunt, and the Addams ends up scratching you hard enough small amounts blood start to drip down your back. The sensation takes you by surprise. Accidentally bucking your hips up further into Wednesday, the girl lets out a groan as she fully takes your length in her pussy.
Placing her on the bed, you notice a tiny bulge in her stomach. You decide to be bold. Pressing your thumb against the intrusion, you hear a sound you’ve never heard before
Wednesday whimpers at your touch.
You do it again.
Her cunt squeezes around your cock, making it harder for you to keep thrusting. But you’re a wolf in heat and Wednesday is incredibly horny, so you continue your movements.
“Sh-She’ll never- she’ll never be as good as you, Wens…” An unexpected growl comes from deep within your throat
“No one can take my cock as good as you…” You’re thrusting considerably faster when Wednesday looks back down at where you two meet. The scenario folding out is a sight for sore eyes, the Addams thinks. You, feeding into your primal urges like it’s an unstoppable beast; and Wednesday willingly taking it in however she can.
“Cara mia.”
“Mine… mine all mine. No one else but mine…” You whimper a little pathetically, but the girl below you is only focused on your thrusts. Her cold hands find their way to your back again, leaving a trail of blood behind
“Yours, puppy. All yours.” Wednesday feeds into your possessive behavior. She knows she shouldn’t, but with you thoughts of reason leave her head and are replaced with thoughts of you
“Were you serious about the knotting, Wens?”
“Deathly.”
“Are you- mph~ sure? It’s kinda big…” The girl under you looks down again, and your ever growing knot seems to just be getting bigger and bigger. Even horny out of your mind, you still wanted to make sure your mate was alright.
…you decide to ignore that thought.
Your eyes were trained on how your erection stretched out Wednesday. Her pussy would be yours, and yours alone. Nobody would make her feel as good as you did. You’d make sure she wouldn’t need anyone else’s cock but yours.
A breathy moan erupts from your throat when you start to actively try to push your knot into Wednesday
“Relax for me Wens, it’ll never go in unless you want it too” You feel her tensed under your touch, but your words are enough for her to relax
Every thrust you get closer, until you eventually start to reach your peak. You can tell Wednesday is too. Her hair is messy and both of your bodies are littered with marks of possession.
“I-I’m so close Wens…” Are the last words you say before succeeding in pushing your knot into the Addams girl. You cum inside of Wednesday’s pussy, and the swell of your knot inside her is enough for Wednesday to cum impaled on your cock. The feeling of being full is an experience Wednesday wished she did with you far sooner.
You wiggle your hips to seemingly get more comfortable inside of Wednesday, but the movement only makes her moan. She was sensitive as hell.
“…was that enough proof I like you more than I like her?”
“More than enough, (Y/n).”
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