#so like i won’t claim it’s the only one out there But hopefully it’s something you haven’t seen written a thousand times before!!

[valeskafics]

"Bunny" - Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x District 12!Reader

Summary: Life in District 12 starts looking up when Coryo meets you.

Word Count: 3,000

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, innocence kink, overstim, loss of virginity, tummy bulge, p in v sex, fingering, oral f receiving, hair pulling

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

The first time he sees you, you take his breath away. You’ve come to the Peacekeepers’ base, carrying a basket, looking completely lost. You’ve got to be around his age, he thinks, eighteen or nineteen, but your face is so soft and sweet, so very innocent as you look around the base, like a fish out of water. You’ve clearly come to see someone, perhaps a brother or, hopefully not, a boyfriend. He walks up to you slowly, leaning against the wall beside you, a wry grin on his face.

“Looking for someone in particular, sweetheart?”

You startle slightly, gazing up at him, relaxing when you see that he doesn’t seem to mean you harm, “Oh, hello… I’m looking for my brother.”

Your voice is just as he thought it would be as you tell him your name. Soft, lilting, soothing to his ears. He feels like he could drown in it.

“I’m Coriolanus. Call me Coryo. I’m sure I can help you find him,” Coryo offers, gazing deep into your eyes, barely resisting the urge to brush an errant strand of hair off of your face.

You shake your head, voice sheepish as you protest, “Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m sure you’re really busy, I don’t want to be a bother.”

Such a sweet little thing. He could just eat you up. Like a wolf hunting a sweet little bunny in the meadow, he has his gaze trained on you, mouth watering as he looks at your plump lips.

“It’s no trouble, don’t worry. The base is pretty empty right now. Let’s see about finding your brother. Do you know where his barracks are?”

You shake your head, staring up at him helplessly, “It’s my first time here. I don’t know where anything is.”

Fuck, he’s going to enjoy this. A poor little bunny wandering into the wolf’s den without a clue just what she’s walked into. You seem so small and helpless. Like you need him. Coryo has never truly felt needed in his life, so this is quite the ego boost. He rests a hand on your lower back, leading you deeper into the base. You look up at him, sweet and unassuming, asking if he’s sure this won’t get him into trouble. How sweet, you’re worried about him.

“You won’t get me into trouble, bunny,” he promises, the nickname rolling off his tongue with ease, “It’s my job to help.”

You tilt your head, gazing up at him curiously through your lashes as you repeat, “Bunny?”

Coryo chuckles, nodding, “It suits you, doesn’t it? A little bunny who needs help finding her way.”

He resists the urge to say more, watching as you avert your gaze shyly. You’re adorable, so timid and innocent. Coryo wants nothing more than to cup your sweet little face in his hands and kiss those soft, plump lips, watching as you gnaw on the lower one nervously. But he wants to take this slow.

“I’m sorry, but did you say you know where my brother might be?” You ask, shifting your weight from foot to foot, fiddling with your hands.

They’re delicate, soft for someone who lives in the mining district, he muses, and so much smaller than his. He wonders how they’d feel in his own or running down his chest, or stroking his-

He clears his throat, a smirk creeping back onto his lips, “I’m pretty sure I do, but first, I need you to tell me something.”

You nod, eager to please, meeting his gaze, “O-okay, sure.”

Coryo leans in, his face only a hair’s breadth from yours, inhaling your scent, so very intoxicating to him, before he questions, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You blink owlishly, a bit taken aback by his query, but you shake your head, “No…”

He hums in acknowledgement, brushing your hair off your shoulder, “Then…” He murmurs, voice trailing off, “Would you like one?”

“Uh,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze, “I don’t know. Most of the boys here are ones I grew up with. Kinda hard to date someone you see as a brother, you know?”

“I don’t think you see me as a brother,” Coryo says smoothly, his breath fanning against your cheeks, watching as your lower lip trembles ever so slightly, “Do you?”

Your voice is barely audible as you mumble, “I hardly know you.”

He chuckles, nodding in understanding, watching as you fluster at his very presence, “You’re adorable. Have you ever even had a boyfriend before?” You bite your lip before shaking your head, a silent admission that you haven’t. Coryo raises an eyebrow, “Really? Ever been kissed before?” Another shake of your head. This is too damn good. He leans in even closer, “That’s a shame. You look like a girl who should be kissed. And often.”

You look up at him, lips parted slightly as you question, “I do?”

“Yes, little bunny,” he murmurs, “I think you do.”

As if on cue, your brother calls out to you, stealing your attention away from Coryo. You step away, though you continue looking at him, as if you don’t want to leave.

“Thank you,” you say in that adorable voice, “For keeping me company.”

He nods, watching the natural sway of your hips as you walk over to your brother, glancing back at him over your shoulder every so often, quickly looking away when you see that he’s already staring at you, “No problem, little bunny.”

He sees you sooner than anticipated, at the Hob where some have gathered to watch the Covey perform. You’re across the way, dancing with some of your friends, giggling and smiling, your hair swaying as you twirl around to the music. You’re so beautiful and innocent, the moonlight shining down on that pretty face of yours, your laugh sounding more enchanting than any music the Covey could ever write. He watches you all night, but you don’t sense his presence. He takes care to keep himself hidden in the shadows, watching as you turn down boy after boy who asks you to dance. It’s as if you already know you belong to Coryo, he muses.

As the night begins winding down, one by one, your friends leave, heading to their respective homes, as do you after waving goodbye to them. Your home is quite far away, Coryo notes, in the Seam, near the edge of the woods. You seem a bit skittish as you walk, remaining blissfully unaware of his presence as he follows you from the shadows, watching over you like some kind of dark guardian. When you get to your home, he watches as you rummage through your dress pocket for your keys, frowning when you don’t find them. You even look beautiful with your nose and eyebrows scrunched up in distaste, he thinks, such a precious little thing.

He can’t resist you any longer, stepping forward, pressing his front up against your backside, reveling in how perfect you feel against him as he whispers, breath tickling your ear, “Hello, bunny.”

You gasp, grabbing your chest as you turn around to face him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see who it is, “Oh, Coryo! You scared me!”

He smirks, leaning his forearm against your doorframe, caging you in between him and the entrance of your home, “Did I?” He asks, voice low and husky.

You swallow thickly, nodding, your back pressed against the door, “Are you on duty.”

He shakes his head, “No. And I believe there was something you and I were going to do, bunny.”

“We were?” You ask, furrowing your brow, looking so adorably confused, “I don’t remember…”

Coryo leans in closer, his nose running along your cheek as he inhales your natural scent, voice growing lower, “You’re a pretty little bunny, aren’t you?”

“Thank you,” you reply, taking a tremulous breath, gazing up at him, a bit dazed.

“A little naive, though,” he teases, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips moving to trace the Cupid’s bow of your lips, “You don’t realize how easy it’d be for a man to take advantage of a sweet little thing like you.”

“Oh, I know everyone around here, no one would do that,” you say, quite confidently.

“Is that so? What about me, bunny?”

“You’re a Peacekeeper. You protect people,” you say softly, “Right?”

Coryo laughs darkly at your answer, his thumb pressing down on your plump lower lip, watching as your lashes flutter at his touch, “I’d do terrible things to you, bunny,” he whispers against your ear, hot breath fanning against your neck, “And I think you’d love every moment of it.”

You shiver at his touch, looking into his eyes. He can tell that you’re nervous by how your body is shaking. But behind that, he sees it. The excitement. The curiosity. A little rabbit who’s walked into a snare.

“What kind of terrible things?”

“Do you really want to know?” You nod slowly, staring up at him with wide eyes as he responds, large hands cupping your face, “I would make you scream my name. Have your entire body trembling. Have you begging for me to never stop.” Your knees buckle slightly, and you likely would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for him pinning you up against the door. Your every reaction is so visceral, it turns him on like nothing else, his cock rock hard in his pants. You’re just begging for him to ravish you, looking at him like that. You turn your face away shyly, seeming as if you’re trying to gather your thoughts, but Coryo won’t have that. He turns you back to face him, “Look at me.” So soft. So pretty. So perfect. He smirks, “I would kiss you right now if you begged me, little bunny.”

The tension between you two is palpable and all is silent save for the noises of the night for a long moment before you finally whisper, “Please?”

He shakes his head, his grin a bit malicious as he insists, “Beg me for it. Beg me for a kiss.”

“P-please,” you plead breathily, your voice shaking, “Please kiss me?”

God, you sound so adorable when you beg. He leans in slowly, every second feeling like an hour as he moves his face closer and closer to yours. He can feel your sweet breath on his lips, his own hovering above yours before finally kissing you. He hears you gasp, your breath catching, as he kisses your soft, smooth lips, so sweet, so ripe against his, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he runs his hands along the curves of your body, squeezing every inch of flesh he can grab. He pulls you flush against him, grinding his cock against your thigh, listening to your sharp intake of breath as he does.

When the two of you finally break apart for air, your voice is barely above a whisper as you question, “Do you want to come inside?”

He nods, gaze intense as he murmurs, “It’s a cold night. Let me come in and warm you up, bunny.”

Coryo watches you, your fingers trembling as you manage to get the door unlocked and let him inside. As you close the door, locking it once more, he steps right behind you, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging on it, making you let out the sweetest little noise of surprise, his cock grinding against your ass, his strong chest against your back.

“Can you feel how bad I want you?” Coryo asks, his free hand moving to your thigh, sliding under your skirt to squeeze at your flesh, “Can you feel it, bunny?”

You whimper softly as he rubs your cunt over the fabric of your panties, the sound driving him nearly insane with need, “Yes…”

The noise you let out as he presses his fingers against your clit is so sweet, he thinks he could listen to it forever and never get tired. Your head falls back against his chest as he presses his lips to your neck, teeth grazing against your sensitive skin.

“C-Coryo, please…”

“Please what?”

You’re already begging. And he loves it. Your voice is flustered as you lean into his touch further.

“I, I don’t know… I…”

“I could show you more,” he rasps against your ear, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind it, “I could make you feel things you’ve never felt before. I can make you mine. Let me show you how much I want you, bunny. Let me show you everything.”

You nod wordlessly, whining softly as he slides his fingers beneath the fabric of your panties, teasing your wet pussy, flicking your clit at an agonizingly slow pace. You buck your hips up against his hand, wanting more, wanting to feel him.

“You like this, don’t you, little one?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

You let out a yelp of surprise as he pulls his hand away, dragging you toward your bed. He pushes you back onto it, staring down at you with his icy blue eyes, every bit a predator going in for the kill. He shrugs off his uniform, smirking to himself at the way you stare at his bare body in wonder. He’s probably the first man you’ve ever seen naked, he muses as your gaze lingers on his abs, his chest, his cock…

And he’s going to make sure he’s the only one.

Coryo feels no small amount of satisfaction as your eyes trace the veins on his forearms, the way you tremulously inhale as he pulls your dress over your head and tosses it aside. You lay there before him in just your white cotton panties, crossing your arms to hide yourself from his gaze. But he’s having none of that, taking your wrists in his hands and fixing you with a sharp look.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, bunny.”

You watch as he slides your panties down your legs, eyes wide as his fingers trail along your inner thighs.

“My perfect little doll,” Coryo murmurs, “So delicate. And all mine.”

He pushes two long, thick fingers inside you, knuckle deep, making you gasp as he begins pumping them in and out of you. He curves them in a come hither portion, your eyes wide, chest heaving, lips parted as he fucks you with his fingers without mercy. You turn your face away, only for him to grab you by the jaw, forcing you to watch his fingers disappearing inside your tight, wet cunt. You’re so shy, he loves it. He loves seeing the little faces you make, hearing the sweet noises you make as you reach your peak on his fingers, your toes curling as you cry out his name in the throes of ecstasy.

“Watch my hands, my fingers,” he demands, still holding you in place as he continues, your entire body shaking as he continues, the wet squelching noises making you want nothing more than to shy away, but Coryo won’t let you.

He wants you to watch as he makes you come undone once again, your soft whines of, “It’s too much, Coryo,” spurring him on as you squirm away.

But he’s not letting you go. He just moves his fingers faster and faster, making you cry out his name once more, your second peak hitting you harder than your first. But he gives you no time to recover, his mouth pressed against your wet cunt within moments as he gazes up at you, his tongue replacing his fingers, moving in and out of you, tasting your sweetness. You stare at him, entirely dazed, eyes rolling back as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders, his face moving side to side as he laps at your folds eagerly. Your entire body quivers, Coryo growing achingly hard, wanting nothing more than to bury his cock balls deep inside you, but wanting to make you come once more before he does. And when you do, your arousal coating his tongue as you mewl his name, the sound so sweet in his ears, he thinks he could cum from that alone.

Coryo moves to lie above you, supporting himself on his forearms, his dog tag dangling, tickling your neck as he slowly sheathes himself inside you, just the tip at first, making you moan his name as his cock stretches you open. Your arms move to wrap around his neck, clinging to him as he bottoms out inside you. For the first time, he’s grateful for how short his hair was cut, because otherwise, he wouldn’t feel your nails raking against his scalp as intensely as he does right now. He begins to rut against you in earnest, making you whimper and cry out his name, squealing with each snap of his hips.

“My little bunny,” he snarls, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust, “All fucking mine.”

“Yours…”

He glances down at your stomach, smirking at the sight of the outline of his cock against your stomach, one hand moving down to press against it, making you nearly scream his name. He pushes your knees to your chest, fucking into you faster and faster, sweat beading at his temples as he moves to bite down hard on your neck, staking his claim. He feels you squeezing around him, your back arching off the bed as you give a choked sob of his name, reaching your peak once again, his own climax coming moments later, filling you with his spend before collapsing against you, crushing your body against his own.

And with the way you cling to him, the way you nuzzle up against him, he knows that he can never let you go again. You’re going to be his sweet little bunny.

He’s going to make it back to the Capitol, sooner than later, and you’re going to be on his arm.

His little plaything, his doll.

For him and him alone.

His bunny.

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coryo x reader #coryo x you #coryo snow x reader #coryo snow x you #hunger games x reader #hunger games x you #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #coryo smut #my writing #coryo oneshot

[summerssover]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⊹ ִֶָ

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, in which you invite the boys over to sesh with you but nate can’t go a day without turning something into a competition

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, sub!reader x dom!nate x dom!chris x dom!matt, poc!reader

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, SMUT! oral sex (female receiving), overstimulation, foursome, fratboy!chris, asshole!nate, loverboy!matt, whoring

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓, 3.2k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙨!

rude chris makes me foam at the mouth like a fucking dog omggg give me 5 minutes with that man😭

i know im a little late but i didn’t want to give you guys half assed writing so i took my time enjoy lovesss

▐ ❝ 𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 ❞

˚𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

little feet tapping sounded over the wooden floor from your constant scurrying around in your california penthouse. you made sure that everything was nice and put away before turning off your main light and switched to the colorful ambient lighting. the sun was just starting to set, casting a nice ray of gold where you would be lounging soon, now waiting for your new friends: matt, chris, and nate to arrive.

you were a freshman attending the university of southern california for business, a native utahan, fairly new to la and desperate for friends. nate had saw you walking around campus and in a couple of his classes but didn’t pay any mind to it, that is until he caught you hitting your pen outside of the lecture hall before class.

“yo, can i hit that?”

his thick accent took you by surprise, ‘he’s definitely from up north’ you thought to yourself. you analyzed his character before moving forward with the interaction. nate had nice even features, pretty blue eyes and thick brows, not entirely sure due to them being scrunched a little. he wore a black snap back and a bright grin as he waited for you to hopefully grant him permission.

“for sure”

a couple weeks later the two of you would make it a habit to get high by the small pond on campus, talking about your lives away and prior to college, you guys bonded well together. soon you were upgraded from a school friend to a friend, friend, progressing the two of you to go to dinner after late classes, study sessions, you’d even made out a few times although just brushed it off, blaming it on the cannabis.

it wasn’t till two weeks before today when you met some of his closest friends. they were triplets, which was a little strange but cool at the same time. the first hangout with you and your new friends went better than okay hence you’d been hanging out with them everyday up to this one.

your body jolted at the sudden banging at your door. you made a quick stop in your room sliding on your slippers. “i’m coming”

the banging, only got louder the longer you took causing you to hurry to the door. “oh my god, i’m coming” you shouted again and dragged out the ‘g’ in ‘coming’.

the door finally opened revealing three immature boys giggling at god knows what. rolling your eyes you leaned on the door frame, “i said i was coming” the boys giggled again, this time a lot harder.

nate was the first one to pull you into a hug with hands resting on your lower back. “yeah we heard”

you also let out a small giggle and mushed his head into your house. you moved on to greet matt and chris next, pulling both boys into a hug at once. you hooked each arm around their necks causing your cleavage to be present right in their faces. pulling away you were met with shit eating grins, “hey” they both said in unison.

you walked further in the house with chris behind you and matt following after locking the door. nate had already made himself at home, kicking off his shoes and already claimed his spot on the lovesac near the cracked window.

while you watched the boys get settled you noticed they were missing one. “wait where the fuck is nick?”

“he’ll be here a little later, he’s out with madi” matt informed.

“oh there won’t be shit left for him” you chuckled out as you walked to your room again, retrieving your box of weed and papers along with a few of your essentials, then going to sit between matt and nate then placing the box down in the middle of the small circle that’d formed. the boys looked at the baby pink box with stickers of hello kitty and hearts scattered on it and laughed. chris picked up the pink rolling papers decorated with strawberries and matt picked the pink grinder. nate shook his head while laughing at his friends holding your belongings in the air.

“if your gonna’ laugh at my shit y’all don’t have to smoke” you rolled your eyes and snatched the grinder from matt. their laughter started to died down and you began to break up the bud into the container.

“who’s gonna’ roll?” you asked, looking around for who would be kinda enough to do you the favor and to no surprise matt was the only one to volunteer.

“i got you” he reached for the grounded up weed in your hand until his was swatted away by nate’s

“she can roll it herself matt, she’s a big girl” nate smirked at you while you sent an ‘annoyed’ glare at him.

“you’re so strange nathan” nate held his hands up in defense. “we’re your guest”

“yeah, show us how it’s done” chris butted in, staring at you with darker eyes than normal.

one thing you’ve noticed about nate was once he was under the influence he would get really flirty and you’d have a feeling he was already. chris didn’t really have an explanation, he was just naturally a horny person, in fact the first thing he said to you was a dirty joke when you met.

you began to roll the first blunt while six pairs of eyes were fixed on you making butterflies stir in your stomach, being careful not to mess up in front of them. it was one thing to have people stare at you while you tried to concentrate on something but you couldn’t go a minute without locking with a pair of blue orbs, each of them filled with hunger. you were now at the step where you brought the blunt up to your glossed lips, slowly licking a strip of the paper then folding and sealing it.

you heard a shuffle to the right of you, making you look to matt and notice that he had an pillow over his lap. you only chuckled and went back to sparking the freshly rolled joint then taking a long drag and passing it off to nate.

“took you long enough” chris teased you while it was nate’s turn to take a hit from the joint. you blew your smoke directly in chris’ face. “maybe you should’ve done it then”

“watching you lick all over the wood was worth the wait” chris laughed out as the rest of the boys joined in again, causing you to smack your teeth. “nate, skip him”

the rotation carried on for about four more blunts. your living room was fogged up and the sun was fully at rest and replaced with millions of tiny stars and everyone was for sure feeling it. chris and nate would not stop talking about the most random shit, literally just pulling things to say out of their asses while you and matt were on the chiller side but still engaging in conversation with your head laying on the pillow still in matt’s lap and your legs over nate’s who’d gotten a little jealous at how comfortably you lounged on matt.

you began tuning out the chatter and thought about this moment in your life. you’d never imagined yourself in la, surrounded by gorgeous men, drugs and good music, you felt like this wasn’t real life, like this was a dream and you’re enjoying every part of it.

“y/n, out of all of us who would you fuck?” nate dropped his hand to your leg that sat on his lap and gently rubbed it. matt’s fingers that’d been fidgeting in your curls fell as you lifted your head up to look at nate, his question catching you way off guard.

“woah what, did i miss something?”

“just answer the question, it’s me right?” chris crossed his arms and manspread in the second lovesac across from the couch you and matt were on.

“bro y/n/n would fuck me in a heart beat, tell em’” nate shook your legs a little.

“nate, your like three feet tall, she doesn’t want to fuck you i promise” you, matt, and chris cackled at nate’s offense to matt’s comment.

“doesn’t matter, what i’m lacking in height, i’m packing in length, can you say the same?” nate shot back at matt.

“not gone’ lie i would respectfully fuck all of you” there was a quick pause, shocking the boys (not really), hell shocking yourself, but everyone was having fun and getting really touchy so you thought ‘why not throw it out there’.

“bet i could make you cum the fastest though” nate wore a cocky grin and his hand on your thigh rose higher and higher.

“no fucking shot” chris argued.

“nah you gotta specify, there’s lots of ways you could get her to cum” matt added.

“if im fucking her i’ll give it maybe eight minutes, six if i’m raw doggin’ it” the boys debated like you weren’t even there, discussing all the ways they would make you cum and at what speed. you shifted in your spot and squeeze legs together at the heat pooling between them.

“i could definitely have her squirting by just sucking on her clit in four” they used such vulgar language and talked about such intimate acts like a group project. you were in complete heat, needing someone now, anyone.

“you good over there y/n/n?” chris asked you with a similar smirk to nate’s. he looked so good right now, all of them did.

“yeah, i’m fine”

“you think you can help us settle this, beautiful?” nate finished chris’ thought. the sexual tension in the room was now very high and everyone seemed eager for your response. thinking about this logically you knew that the boys were pretty good people and they weren’t the type of guys to record or do anything without your consent, you hoped.

“fuck it”

matt’s eyes looked as if they could pop out of his head. “are you serious right now? there’s no pressure or anything”

“matt shut the fuck up, she gave us her answer” chris jumped up after ashing the blunt and setting it aside.

“perfect” nate push your legs off of his lap and stood in front of you while you got up from your spot as well. nate started by pulling your shorts down and spreading your legs. “keep ‘em’ just like that for me” he whisper to you then took a step back

“damn, yo come look, she’s fuckin’ soaked” nate waves matt and chris over to get a good look at your dripping cunt while you could do nothing but giggle at the feeling of your head spinning, still violently high.

“oh shit, no panties either? good girl” chris looked up at you through his lashes then back to your heat and slid his fingers around your pussy, gathering all your juices and spreading it around your bundle of nerves, earning some whimpers in the process and you clench around nothing, already missing his touch.

“aw, she’s so needy” matt mumbled as he lifted your shirt over your head and unclipped your bra. you were now completely exposed in front of the window that overlooked the city and your chest heaved at the torture of them making you wait.

“wait we need a blind fold or something, i’ll be back” matt disappeared into your room for what felt like a lifetime after coming back with the satin scarf you used to protect your hair at night. he gently covered your eyes with the scarf and tied it behind your head.

“that too tight for you?” you mumbled a quick no and prayed that’d would be your last question before one of them would make a move.

“ready?” you didn’t know who that came from but you were so fed up by now that you didn’t even care. “yes, please”

with no warning you felt a tongue meet your core and repeatedly flick your clit, bringing soft moans out of you in an instant and your hands clinging to their hair.

cold hands were brought to either side of your lips, spreading them open, allowing room for his tongue to devour your walls while you could also feel hands groping and messaging on your tits and kisses on your neck, being hit with so much pleasure at once.

the point of their nose bumped against you while his tongue lapped up your slick and applied more pressure. you threw your head back and your legs started to tremble as you whined through your pleasure.

“time, time” you heard chris say before who had to be nate’s tongue pulling away from you. you remember that matt wore rings today, definitely looking forward to that.

“look bro, what’d i tell you” the three boys watched as you squirmed, whined, and clenched at the unwanted emptiness. a thick stream of cum began to pour out of you and you flinched at nate’s fingers stretching your folds back out, showcasing your pink pussy.

“so fucking pretty, good job baby” nate placed one last kiss to you core. you heard him shuffle from his knees and be replaced with a new pair. you had a feeling it was chris’ turn once a thumb messaged your clit and a tongue plunged beep in your core. your arm flung to the back of the couch as you squealed from just coming down from your orgasm.

“ughh, fuck” your words slurred out, stroking chris’ ego. he removes his thumb from your clit and stretched his arm to your chest, toying with your right nipple while another hand toyed with your left one. your breath got caught in your throat causing you to choke out a series of moans as chris slurped up your arousal.

chris’ mouth detached from you, “she came, gimme that” he hurriedly spat out to matt and nate, leading him to pause the timer.

“shit, three minutes” nate and chris laughed as they dapped each other up then did the same with matt. “not yet tho, matt about to go”

“you just told her, fucking idiot” chris chuckled as mat began to crouch between your legs.

“no i can’t do it” you whined and squeezed your legs shut. “s’ too much”

nate huffed and brushed the stray curls on your forehead back. “yes you can baby, you got it”

“i don’t have to, if you can’t handle it, okay sweetheart” matt comforts your strained leg muscles by pulling them back to the ground and rubbing your knee, still shaking from your pervious releases.

“matt she’s fine, go ahead” nate waved you off once he decided you had enough time to rest.

“i’m not touching her if she’s doesn’t want me to”

chris dramatically huffed at the stand still they were in. “bro, common, you want to be the only one to not make her cum, like a little bitch? that’s fucking embarrassing matt”

“shut the fuck” nate raised his tone, not wanting the brothers to start an argument while your bare ass was out. “she never said that” nate turned back to you as you’re just now catching your breath. “you still want matt too don’t cha’ sweetheart?” the words rolled off of his tongue so smoothly and it was like his voice scratched your brain so nicely and who were you to be the buzzkill, you’d all probably just laugh about it in the future anyways.

“mhm”

“you can do a little better than that mama” chris whispered and kissed behind your right ear while nate did the same on the other. their actions alone made you wet all over again and matt’s gaze sent tingles to your heat.

“matt, please i need you so bad”

“yea that’s what we like to hear, now you wanna’ show matt that pretty pussy of yours” nate pried a hand between the gap of your thighs and you allowed him to do so. your mind was so clouded that nothing mattered anymore, you wanted them to use you however they wanted and for as long as they wanted.

“hold her leg chris”

a small smile formed at your lips once matt enclosed his soft lips around your bud and sucked gently before he added two fingers in your hole, making you gasp from the ice-like cold of the rings.

“mmh” you vocally moaned moving your hands up to grab the boys heads on either side of you as matt left nasty open mouthed kisses on your cunt. the cold metal against your pussy and your legs being restrained brought to your attention that the boys were revealing kinks you’ve never cared to explored before.

matt pulled his fingers from you and replaced them with his mouth, making obsessive slurping sounds and lapping his tongue occasionally as you poured out into him. “fuck matt right there, yes”

both arms unhooked from nate and chris’ heads to hold matt’s down, scared of the euphoric feeling leaving you at any moment now. matt had gained some confidence, getting faster and sloppier, you offering pornogrphic moans to fill the boys ears. you gasped once more at the sudden hand rubbing circles on your clit, chris, followed by a mouth sucking on your tits again, which had to be nate, you’d peeped him staring at them all night. your back arched off the couch and your painted toes curled up in the air as you let out another overstimulated squeal, your high hitting you hard are and your cum dripping down matts throat and chin.

nate and chris unrestrained you, granting you the vision you wish so badly to have during the acts. matt remained kneeled between your legs and everyone seemed to take a moment of silence to really grasp the reality of what just happened.

“that was so fuckin’ sexy y/n/n” nate complimented, creating an domino effect of the three boys praising you while scattering to find your clothes and get towels for the cleanup. you were back to being a giggling mess with flushed cheeks.

chris went to wipe you off. “so who eats pussy the best?”

you stopped to think and you honestly couldn’t choose. everything was a blur, you just sat there and enjoyed the solid they did for you, all for the fun of it. “all of you were amazing”

“bullshit” nate came back with some snacks and water bottles for all of you then grabbing the remote from the coffee table.

“im being so serious, i felt like i was in heaven the whole time” giggled before looking at the boys who surrounded your couch with you in the middle. “matt did get the best reaction though”

matt raised both hands up in victory with a mouth full of water.

“he went over five minutes that’s not fair, i want a rematch” chris refused like a child. you four cuddled up in a blanket as each of you drifted off the sleep to pirates of the caribbean playing in that back ground and highs coming down.

“was nick ever coming?” you looked to your left seeing chris and matt passed out, then to the right, nate also being passed out.

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩!- @worldlxvlys @ariieeesworld @muwapsturniolo @esioleren @sturn59 @junnniiieee07 @iluvmattyb @kriissy4gov @patscorner @imsosillygoofylol @sturncakez @sturnzsblog @mattslolita

#chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #black writers #nathan doe x reader #chris sturniolo x black reader #summersover #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #x black reader #nathan doe #sturniolo smut

[recreationalfanfics]

Hello, I really love how you seem to have such a good read on RoR characters! Kinda shy asking this because I swore I read Record of Ragnarok for the action and backstories but it’s hard to contain my simping…. (๑꒪̇⌄꒪̇๑)

May I request some headcanons for Poseidon x a shy but kind human fem!MC? The idea I had in mind was that some thousands of years ago, Aphrodite, annoyed with Poseidon’s indifference to her charms, “cursed” him with a soulmate. This soulmate turned out to be MC who wasn’t even born yet back then. The plot will take place sometime before the actual human vs. gods battles start, so maybe during some preparation period where they’re setting up the stadium and all that? During this period, the human audience had already been “teleported” there (I don’t think they ever elaborated on how the humans all just end up watching the ragnarok) MC is one of these humans and coincidentally happened upon Poseidon during her stay. Of course, the soulmate stuff won’t magically make Poseidon have a complete change on humankind, but I was hoping he’d gradually soften up to her even if he won’t admit it.

As for what kind of soulmate AU, maybe the type where the first words your soulmate says to you is inscribed somewhere on your body? I think it’ll be fun to have her say something to him, he realizes but doesn’t say anything back so she just doesn’t know until much later.

Hopefully this isn’t too detailed or convoluted (๑•́‧̫•̀๑) And thank you so much in advance if you decide to write this! And if it’s not too much to ask, please don’t kill off Poseidon, but I also don’t want Sasaki to die either… maybe Poseidon will choose to forfeit (after fighting at first) because his soulmate is amongst the humans that will be eliminated if gods win? •ू(ᵒ̴̶̷᷄ωᵒ̴̶̷᷅*•ू) )੭ु⁾⁾

THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTE OMG!? I'M MORE THAN HAPPY TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU BUT ALSO, UR SO VALID FOR WANTING NIETHER OF THEM TO DIE, IDK WHY BUT THIS ANIME MAKES ME ATTATCHED TO BOTH THE GODS AND THE HUMANS-

Either way, I hope I did well, this was my first time writing for Poseidon!

- Consider how vain these two can be sometimes, it's only natural that they would butt heads often but when Poseidon dared to claim that Aphrodite truth wasn't as fair as she claimed herself- no, that she KNEW herself to be- she just couldn't allow this injustice to stand.

- He cherished absolutely nothing, he appreciated absolutely nothing. So she took it upon herself to change that. After all, it was HER who was the Goddess of Love. So she decided to pull a little trick

- Now, lets flashforward (to modern? ancient? Idk, man, heaven time??) and Poseidon has been summoned to his match. A match he felt was pointless but, whatever, who was he to deny his brother?

- Gracing the God's hall and going to his room to prepare and shield himself from sharing the same air as humans; imagine his surprise when he sees you.

- You're pathetic. Skittish, looking around like a confused mutt, and looking as disgusting as the rest of your kind. He knows your human alone and he's offended that you had the AUDACTIY to walk INTO THE AREA WHERE THE GOD'S RESIDE, AND EVEN STAND IN FRONT OF HIS DOOR.

- In reality, you weren't trying to piss anyone off. You had gotten separated from the rest of the humans and accidentally found yourself in a part of the arena you weren't familiar with.

- You were so relieved when you looked and saw another person in the hallway with you! Maybe you could ask them for directions. Poseidon did not know why you were approaching him so casually but he did NOT like it, like, AT ALL.

- Since your soulmates, maybe the reason why you don't feel his threatening aura like other gods and humans do is because some part of you just can't find it in you to fear him. He takes this as a sign of disrespect.

- You do feel anxious, however, he was such an attractive man but he absolutely did not look pleased to see you and you assumed he was just having a bad day.

- "H-Hello, I don't mean to trouble you!" You call out, your voice quiet and filled with uncertainty.

- He narrows his eyes at you, absolutely enraged by the idea of you approaching him so casually. You filthy little worm, he should destroy right-

- But then he takes a look at his wrist, he doesn't know why he does, a subconscious decision perhaps. But he side eyes you...odd, he makes sure to check his wrist. Oh well, he may as well grant you a few seconds of life.

- Then he checks his wrist and sees that the very first words you said to him...were on it. He looks from his wrist to you, who has no idea what's going on and honestly just wanted to find a way out of this big hallway.

- "U-Um, sir? I-I'm sorry, but do you know the way out?"

- He merely narrows his eyes at you before summoning his trident into his hands and thats when you realize; you're standing before a God. He says nothing to you and you instantly want to apologize but before you could, he just points in his trident into the direction he came from.

- You look at him, scared and confused, and he continues to stare at you with cold eyes. When he doesn't say or do anything for a few minutes you finally realized he was pointing the direction out.

- You apologize for the trouble and run like hell, his gaze following you.

- He observes you closely after that, believing this may be some kind of mistake. Thats why he didn't say anything to you, because a part of him was nervous. But he was mostly angry.

- It showed by when he barged into Aphrodite's room to DEMAND her what trickery she had stuped too and to undo it, she just smiles slyly and asks him: "What trickery?~"

- After some frustrating interrogation that goes NOWHERE...he finds himself staring at you quiet often, the mortals all cowering in fear when they feel his divine prescence. Not you, though, you never seem to notice him until you follow their stares and see his cold eyes, staring you down like you were gum under his new shoes.

- It's a very odd exchange, overall. Everyday, he'd show up at the most random of times and causing a stir among everyone else but yourself. Sometimes it'd even be multiple visits a day. Either way it confused you because the matches hadn't even started and already, you had somehow invoked a God's wrath.

- At least, that's what you thought at first until you noticed that he never did anything to really threaten your safety. Yes, watching you was a bit odd, but you find that you aren't really all that nervous about it anymore. Especially since with every visit, you believe that his gaze softens when they're set upon you.

- He kept his distance at first but then, once you started to take notice of him, you'd offer him to sit next to you as you sat in the beautiful fields that surrounded the arena or would be reading in one of the vast nearby libraries. Originally he would just walk away and as time went on he slowly began to warm up to you.

- Like a cat. tbh.

- He couldn't help it, at least, it FELT like he couldn't help it. He didn't know if it was your bond as soulmates, the unyielding kindness that he originally saw as foolish and niave, or overall just your quiet nature until you saw your friends.

- Either way, the more he began to see you, the more he could look past your flaws (which was being a human) and start to appreciate the things about you the made you beautiful.

- Don't get me wrong, he was definetly in denial for the longest time so he would kinda start off with small things. Like it goes from: "Oh, at least they bowed their head to my statue, thats a redeemable quality, at least." to "She is the epitome of perfection♡"

- You wouldn't really ever know that Poseidon's feelings towards you have grown, he hides it very well behind that stoic face that he wears and he hasn't even really spoken to you, yet. He doesn't know why but he feels like...the time isn't right. Despite his growing feelings, he truly isn't ready to accept a human as his soulmate yet.

- You just assumed he didn't talk much so you never pushed him too. Yeah, it mightve been a bit awkward at first but you appreciated his prescence, it brought you a new sense of comfort and peace that you never felt, not even when you were alive.

- When you made flower crowns in the gardens, you'd ask if you could decorate his trident for him and he gave you a deadpan stare before nodding his head in approval. He'd silently gesture you to follow him and show you a private pool whenever a say seemed a bit too hot for you and watch as you played in it, a soft smile growing on his face.

- He would even feel a bit of anger when he was with his fellow gods, listening to them generalize their hatred towards humanity. Usually Poseidon would join them but he couldn't bring himself too. After all, humanity was pesky and troublesome but some of them weren't that bad.

- They could be sweet, they could be unfailingly kindhearted and empathetic...They could be you. So he'd just glare distastefully but never say anything, but he didn't need to as everyone slowly stopped talking after sensing they somehow upset him.

- He spent a lot of his time with you during the days that led up to his match, you were unsure of who to root for; since it's true that humanity would be wiped out if the God's continued to win but at the same time, you didn't want to see Poseidon get hurt.

- He picked you out from the crowd immediately and made eye contact with you, not even acknowledging his opponent as he stepped into the ring.

- Did he still look down on humanity? Yes. But...he supposed there were some good aspects to it. Good aspects like you.

- As the mythical creatures and gods from his side cheered him on, shouting insults towards the humans, and telling him to destroy them like the ants they were: his eyes were locked on your (e/c) eyes before he finally made a decision. Internally, he had just lost a battle within himself in that moment...but he wasn't upset about it.

- So he interrupts Heimdall's introduction speeches as he addresses the whole crowd, "I FORFIET THIS MATCH!"

- Shock and bafflement was all that could be heard from both sides of the arena. They couldn't have possibly heard him right, though, after all: He was Poseidon, the beautiful God of the Sea, there was no way he would just-

- Then he looked at you and your heart leapt at hearing his voice for the first time. His eyes became gentle as they stared into yours, "I will fight for humanity. For some of you are worthy yet."

- You didn't respond for a bit, not noticing how the words "I will fight for humanity" appeared on your wrist, but he did. And he knew that even if Aphrodite had "cursed" him, that it truly didn't bother him. You were made for him. His perfect mortal♡

- This was only proven when you broke out of your shocked trance faster than anyone and cheered his name happily, your shyness lost as you joyfully cheered his name, causing him to visibly smile in front of everyone.

#ror x reader #snv x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #ALSO DO YOU THINK THAT WHEN THE HUMANS ARE SUMMONED TO WATCH THE BATTLES- #THAT'S IT'D KINDA LIKE JURY DUTY?? #EXCEPT IT'S JUDT MORE FUN AND IT'S FINE IF YOU KNOW RHE PERSON??? #LIKE THEY'RE CHILLING IN HEAVEN AND THEY GET A LETTER. #Some random human jn heaven: Sorry guys I can't. I've gotta watch the next Ragnarok match. #Their friend: Aw man that sucks- #Random human in heaven: Nah I don't think so. I think it's gonna be sick af- #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #Poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #ror poseidon #ror poseidon x reader #poseidon x reader snv #poseidon x reader ror #HOPE YOU LIKE THIS I TRIED TO MAKE IT SUPER LONG BC I LOVED THIS PROMPT.

[trashymouthgremlin]

‘The Hair’s’ Hair Care

Inspired by this post by @babyboyargyle about Steve touching Eddie’s hair. I just wanted to write some fluff about these two getting together.

**************

Eddie wasn’t an insecure person. It was something that had aggravated his bullies to no end. Any attempts at what they had thought would be obvious insecurities for Eddie had done nothing. They were all met with a cocky grin and a “Is that the best you’ve got?”, which infuriated them further. Eddie took great pleasure in infuriating bullies.

No, Eddie wasn’t typically insecure, but since he and Steve “The Hair” Harrington had started flirting in earnest, there had been a few… Self-conscious thoughts that had been floating around his head. It was irritating. Eddie wasn’t insecure, but he really liked Steve. Sometimes he just… Worried. It wasn’t like they were together or anything, but Eddie found himself caring a great deal what Steve thought about things. 

They were sitting at the back of a movie theatre, the kids all scattered in the rows in front of them, and Eddie very aware of Steve’s arm draped over the back of Eddie’s seat. They were whispering their quiet, playful flirting. Steve’s fingers started playing with Eddie’s hair before he… He fucking recoiled. 

“You okay, Stevie?” Eddie whispered, alarmed. 

Steve was making some… Face? Disgust maybe? A thousand panicked thoughts raced through his brain, but he couldn’t remember what he had just said that could have been so bad. Surely nothing that different from their usual flirting, right?

Steve pulled back his arm, holding it almost protectively away from Eddie.

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with your hair?!” Steve hissed.

Eddie blinked at him. 

“...What?”

“Your hair! Why does it feel so dead!” Steve made an exaggerated face that Eddie would normally find hilarious, but he was still so taken aback by what Steve had just said.

“You… You’re upset about how my hair feels…?” Eddie asked, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. 

“Uh, yeah! What products are you using? Because they clearly aren’t working for you…” Steve was inspecting Eddie’s hair now, tutting disapprovingly. Eddie opened his mouth, but had no idea how to even respond to that. He turned back to the movie.

A few seconds passed, but he felt Steve’s eyes on him intently. He tried to ignore it, realising that of course hair was a big deal to Steve “The Hair” Harrington.

“You wanna fix my hair don’t you?” Eddie asked without even turning to Steve.

“Please!” Steve said, like he had been bursting to say it. 

Eddie laughed quietly, and looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye. Those big eyes were looking at him pleadingly, hopefully, and well… Eddie was a sucker for Steve. So he sighed, resigned, and waved his hand dismissively.

“Fine. But only once!” Eddie conceded. 

Steve leaned into Eddie’s shoulder with a victorious smile. 

“Oh, trust me, you’ll be begging for more,” he whispered smoothly. 

Eddie felt his stomach do a flip, and grinned back at Steve.

“Is that a promise?” Eddie asked, leaning his face leaning towards Steve. 

“Oh, absolutely,” Steve replied, “you won’t want me to stop.”

“We’ll see about that.”

~

A couple of days later Eddie was at Steve’s place. The Harringtons were out of town, which meant Steve had the place to himself, and he could invite Eddie “The Freak” Munson over without anyone the wiser. 

“I hope you’re ready for the one and only time you get to have your way with my hair,” Eddie said, folding his arms.

Steve smirked, gesturing for Eddie to follow as he climbed the stairs.

“I’m gonna change your life,” he said confidently. Eddie scoffed.

“Huge claim to make, you better be able to deliver Stevie.”

Steve hummed confidently as he led Eddie to the bathroom. Eddie froze in the doorway. The Harringtons had a huge bathroom, but that is something Eddie had expected. What he hadn’t expected was a huge bath with two chairs in it, with various bottles lining the edge of it. There was even a large jug of water and multiple towels set up. 

“Is it too late to back out?” Eddie asked.

“Yup! Take off your shoes and roll up your jeans,” Steve said as he was rolling up his own. 

Eddie sighed and did as he was told, also pulling off his jacket. He sat down in one of the chairs in the bath, directed by Steve. A very soft towel was placed over his shoulders, and Eddie started to feel those insecu- no… Concerns, creeping back in again. The striking different between his world and Steve’s world was always there, but it hadn’t been wrapped around his shoulders until now. Just a towel, and it felt so different. 

Eddie wondered if this was something the rich kids did pretty often. Pamper each other and do each other’s hair. It felt odd. 

Steve was still fussing around the room, when he brought a boom box into the room, sitting it by the doorway, and put on a tape at a soft volume. Eddie had expected Steve to play some disco or new wave music, but he was pleased to hear that it was rock music. It felt like a compromise Steve had made, and Eddie smiled to himself. 

Steve finally settled himself on the chair behind Eddie.

“Are you comfortable?” Steve asked softly. 

“Uh… Yeah, yeah,” Eddie replied. He felt a bit awkward, but it was too late to back out now. Steve had got all this ready for him.

“Good,” Steve sounded pleased, “tilt your head back for me and keep your eyes closed.”

Eddie did as he was told. Steve cupped a hand over the top of Eddie’s hairline as he poured warm water over his hair. He filled the jug of water from the bath tap beside them a few times, making sure Eddie’s hair was soaked through properly.

“Let me know if this hurts at all,” Steve said.

He picked up one of the products, shampoo, and lathered it through Eddie’s hair.

Eddie felt a tingle go up his spine as Steve gently massaged his scalp and hair. For a moment, he was almost embarrassed to admit how nice it felt, but after a while, he felt his whole body begin to relax. Even the occasional tug when Steve’s fingers found a knot didn’t bother Eddie.  Steve hummed again, this time in approval. 

“You beginning to enjoy yourself already?” He asked teasingly, but his voice was still soft.

Eddie sighed contently, sinking down in his chair.

“Do you have magic hands or something? That feels incredible,” Eddie murmured.

Steve laughed, “Yeah? You like my hands?”

Eddie hummed an affirmation, not embarrassed to admit it. Steve chuckled.

Steve cupped his hand over Eddie’s hairline again as he washed out the shampoo. Next up was the conditioner. 

Eddie felt Steve’s hands comb the product through his hair gently, trying to detangle it without hurting him, starting from the bottom and working his way up. He did the same with a wide-tooth comb. It was already more than Eddie had ever done to his hair.

“Do you do this much?” Eddie asked curiously.

“No, actually,” Steve replied. “You’re the first.”

“Really?” Eddie looked up at Steve while trying not to move. “You seem to really know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, well, this is kinda just… The one thing I’m really good at,” Steve said with a slight laugh.

“That’s not true,” Eddie said with a frown.

“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, then leaned close to Eddie’s ear, “and what else do you think I’m good at?”

Eddie felt his face heat up, suddenly flustered. 

“Well, you’re a wonderful flirt, for one,” Eddie grinned up at Steve, who laughed.

“Yeah? Do you think I’m charming, Munson?” Steve smirked down at him, his eyes lit up with delight. 

Eddie liked seeing that look on his face.

“Absolutely. King of Charm, for sure,” Eddie nodded. Steve laughed again.

“Close your eyes,” Steve murmured, cupping Eddie’s hairline again and washing out the conditioner. He hummed for a moment, then stood up, getting out of the bath. Eddie moved to get up as well, but Steve tutted.

“I just need to get something, stay right there,” he said before disappearing. 

Eddie let his fingers drum on his leg to the music. He had been so apprehensive before, but this… This was nice. It had surprised him. Regardless of all the things the rest of their friends had to say about Steve, with Eddie he was unexpectedly gentle. 

Considering the circumstances they had met under, Eddie supposed that they sort of owed each other a certain level of gentleness. It wasn’t like this with the others, though. 

Steve appeared again, and Eddie flinched a little in surprise. 

“Sorry,” Steve said quietly, but Eddie just shot him a smile.

“‘S okay, I’m just not used to being this relaxed,” Eddie said. Steve beamed down at him like Eddie’s own person sun. His heart felt ready to burst.

He glanced down at the item in Steve’s hand.

“Is that a t-shirt?” he asked. 

“Yup, cotton,” Steve explained. When Eddie raised an eyebrow he continued, “You’ve got curly hair, so this is better to dry your hair with instead of the towels. I didn’t think about that before.”

Eddie closed his eyes as Steve took his seat behind him and started to dry his hair, gently lifting and squeezing with the t-shirt. No one had ever taken this much care with Eddie before. With all the flirting and dancing around each other that the two of them had been doing, Eddie had to admit that the care Steve took with him now felt different. It was like he could feel himself falling in love. 

Of course, there were any number of things that Eddie admired about Steve now. He cared about the kids deeply, he threw himself into danger if it meant helping people. Steve was brave and caring, and of course he was funny, sarcastic, and very easy on the eyes too. All of that would be enough, but this was more. This, despite Steve just washing his hair, felt more intimate than anything Eddie had felt before. He started chewing on his lip as he realised the weight of that feeling on his heart.

Steve’s hands stopped, and he leaned forward.

“Hey, are you okay?” he said, barely above a whisper.

Eddie’s eyes opened, looking into Steve’s big, worried ones. He was so damn attentive… Fuck.

“Y-yeah… I’m fine…” Eddie murmured, not sure how to pull his eyes away. He felt… Vulnerable. 

Steve’s eyebrows creased together, looking intently into Eddie’s eyes, as though a secret might reveal itself there. Eddie gulped. 

“N-no… No one’s ever done something like this for me…” Eddie said, finally pulling his eyes away. “It just… Feels…”

“Intimate?” Steve supplied. Eddie nodded. 

Steve’s hands resumed drying Eddie’s hair with the t-shirt and he hummed.

“I guess it is. I would only do this for people I felt really close to,” Steve said thoughtfully. 

“Yeah? Would you do this for Robin or Dustin?” Eddie asked curiously.

“Probably,” Steve replied, but there was a pause. “Maybe not this, though.”

Eddie was about to ask what, when he felt Steve’s warm lips on his forehead. Eddie’s breath caught in his through. His forehead tingled against those soft lips. He felt Steve smile against his skin before he pulled back, picking up another bottle of product. He rubbed it in his hands before running them through Eddie’s hair. 

Eddie’s mouth pulled slowly into a wide grin, and he relaxed back into the chair once more. Steve started massaging his scalp again, and Eddie hummed in enjoyment. They spent so long like that, Eddie was sure Steve hadn’t needed to massage his head for this long, but there was no way he was going to complain. It felt like heaven on earth. 

When Steve did stop, he helped Eddie over the side of the bath, and dried his feet from the excess water. Eddie watched him as he was kneeled down in front of him, focused on his task. When he looked up, Eddie surged forward, his lips meeting Steve’s. Steve made a muffled sound of surprise, but melted into the kiss quickly, a hand going to the back of Eddie’s neck. 

They pulled apart, and Steve was smiling at him so sweetly. Eddie felt like his heart might just stop permanently then and there. 

“So, you’re going to let your hair dry naturally,” Steve started, and picked up three of the bottles and a comb. “And you are going to use all three of these separately. I know you’re using the two in one shampoo and conditioner, but I want you to just throw that in the bin, okay?”

A fond smile crept over Eddie’s features, and he nodded. 

“You can’t just wash my hair every day?” he asked.

“Well you shouldn’t be washing it every day, just every second or third day,” Steve said firmly.

“So… I can’t just get you to wash it every second or third day?” Eddie asked, leaning into Steve’s space again with a sly smile. 

Steve smirked.

“Well, you told me this was just a one time thing, right?” Steve said innocently, but there was glint in his eye. “Or are you finally going to beg me for more?”

“Please?” Eddie said instantly, trying to flutter his eyes at Steve, who pretended to be considering it. “Pretty, pretty please?”

“Mmmm… Maybe just once more,” Steve said, leaning in until their lips were almost touching. 

“Pretty, pretty, pretty please?” Eddie breathed.

Steve cupped his face as he kissed him. Steve pulled away, looking at Eddie with a pleased expression. 

“Yeah, okay,” he said simply, making them both laugh. 

~

Eddie’s hair had dried. Steve was convinced it would take a while for his hair to adjust and repair, but Eddie couldn’t deny that it was definitely better than the scruffy curls he usually had. 

They were sitting together on Steve’s couch, watching a movie. Steve’s arm was once again draped across Eddie’s shoulders. He was playing with Eddie’s hair, and this time he wasn’t cringing. Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t like the feeling. It was soothing. He fell asleep like that, resting on Steve’s shoulder. Steve smiled down at him, giving him another kiss on the head, hugging him close. 

Eddie would admit later that Steve had been right. A hair wash really did feel like it had changed his life, and he would absolutely be begging for more. 

#lil fics #my writing #steddie #steddie fluff #i am laughing at my own title for this but i am very pleased with it too tbh

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[euaphoric]

“you are legally obligated to keep holding me!”

it’s been raining and storming bricks outside all day so i went to distract myself, pop in some headphones and zone out while writing a comfort (and a little smutty) fic about jk soothing you during a thunderstorm! very much not proofread srry

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[6:02 pm] you’d spent the entire evening cuddling and watching movies at home with your boyfriend. it was one of those days where you just chill and be couch potatoes for the whole day; not very productive but is much needed after the busy week you both had. the sky was no longer a bright, pearl blue instead turning a dull grey and heavy sounds of raindrops pattering against the window sill made you realize how gloomy it’s become. it was such a beautiful day out earlier, regretting the fact you didn’t take advantage of it before it was too late. “i guess we’ll have to scrap going to that retro themed diner we wanted to check out..” he sadly announces, looking over at the dreary weather mother nature has presented. “there’s always next time babe, don’t worry about it!” you snuggle up to get closer with your back against his chest. “i know but i was actually really looking forward to go! there’s this cool action figure display they have right when you walk in and it’s like heaven for collectors like me.” he gushed like a fanboy, his little rants and raves about his interests always made you fall in love with him all over again. you appreciated when he talked about the things he was most passionate about, it made you feel closer to him than ever.

[6:54 pm] “you want me to cook or order takeout babe?” his voice brings you out of your trance. you haven’t noticed that you weren’t paying attention to the movie and instead daydreaming off into la la land. you can’t help but be fully head empty, no thoughts when you’re laying in jungkook’s arms. “hm… doesn’t matter, i’ll take both!” you can never just make up your mind. he sighs, knowing that he’ll have to decide for the both of you. as the rain grows heavier, the elements of the outside only seems to worsen by the minute. a blinding strike of lightning echoes with a flash, only to be seen once again in a few minutes. then your worst fear just so seems to show up, the menacing sounds of thunder. you’ve been petrified of thunder since you were a child, never really getting over the fear even through adulthood. some may find it silly but hopefully your boyfriend won’t judge you for it. you curled up into a ball, bringing your knees to your chin as jungkook still has his arms wrapped around you. “everything okay bun?” he could easily sense when you were upset by something, you had some insane couple telepathy going on. “yeah, why wouldn’t it?” you awkwardly pause for a bit, “i’m totally fin— AH!!!” you scream while flinching. another crash of thunder mixed with lightning almost induces a heart attack in you. “is my precious baby scared of the thunder?” he probes, not wanting to make you feel embarrassed for being frightened. you nod, feeling your hands shake from getting too anxious and overwhelmed, beginning to feel helpless in this moment. “don’t worry baby, you’re safe. i’m right here, i’ll go get you some water and be right ba-” he tries to release his grasp but you don’t let him. “NO,” you respond quickly, pulling him back without a second thought “you are legally obligated to keep holding me!” you claim, hoping he’ll take the bait and want to never leave your sight. “okay miss. y/n you got it, it’s only right i listen to the team captain’s orders correct?” “correct.”

[7:38 pm] an idea came to jungkook’s mind when thinking of ways to distract you, he knows it’s not the purest but he knew that it would take your mind off things in an instant. he kiss you tenderly, being gentle with every move he makes as if you are fragile like glass. his broad frame hovers over your body as he thrusts into you slowly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder while calling you his sweet baby and precious angel. his strokes were agonizingly slow, but when he slams his cock deeper in you by surprise you whimper and cry out a bit. his low groans and pants can be heard under his breath, even though he’s going slower than usual he already feels him at his breaking point. “ah— gonna cum y/n, fuck babe!” he roars almost as louder as the thunder from earlier. speaking of thunder, the rain has subsided now. his cock has done more than a good job at pacifying your frenzied state, turning you completely cock dumb for him. it only took a couple more deep strokes to your walls to get you on the brink of your release and have you in shambles. your body went limp soon as you came, feeling as though your soul left it’s body. he still kept his cock in you after cumming inside, reeling you in with a sensual kiss. soft moans fill both your mouths, the air smells of sweaty sex and apple cider candles. you know you wouldn’t have gotten through that frightening thunderstorm without him by your side, he finds it sweet you need his protecting. “you’re so damn cute, you know that?” he blurts, making you giggle against his chest. “not a second goes by where i don’t want to swallow you whole.” figuratively speaking, he’s already done that before many many times.

i feel like this ended weirdly but… we move. pls leave a like/comment/reblog if you liked it, it’ll make my day \(^_^)/

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x female reader #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fic #bts imagines #jk smut #jk x reader #jungkook drabbles

[r0semultiverse]

Mr. 6 made you do a good show to be released?? 👀 um....

This is already giving serious eye vibes.

A whole show dedicated to public humiliation?

The Mr. Bonzo suit started moving??? 👀 Serious stranger vibes. 🤡

"It actually became a sort of ritual"

I've seen people being like "don't cross tag" but buddy... the writing cross tags itself here I mean c'mon! 😂 Something something ritual of the stranger- okay, I'll keep listening!

Hey, what's with the music?? Hey, who is Terrance Menki???👀

"The police said there were eleven bodies in total and his wardrobe was full of all sorts of homemade costumes." BRO IS ACTUALLY MAGNUSPOD WILLIAM AFTON-

"It certainly had a profound effect on the Mr. Bonzo brand." Oh I'm sure it did, holy fucking shit. 👀

Oh, me using this image is rather ironic now.

"In a lot of ways I’m more his prisoner now than I ever was on my show." WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? 👀

"The witness statements from three murders over the last five years that claim a person in a Mr. Bonzo costume was at the scene? Do you think there could be a copycat?" Has the fear of clowns manifested as an actual clown-guything?

"Don’t contact us again." "Us?" "Why am I still trapped dealing with all this this- Why won’t he let me go?! Why-" So Mr. Bonzo is absolutely a clown cryptid of sorts with some sort of hold over Nigel.

Oh no, Gwen's about to fuck around & find out, isn't she? 👀

Hey, is Colin still himself & is he supposed to be back?

Hmm, okay, I guess that's him (hopefully).

"Maybe don’t tell them I’ve been on their terminals. They’ll only get the wrong idea." "If Lena asks, I wasn’t here." Seems like everyone's got their own little secret investigations going on, fun! This can only go well! 🙃

One of the episodes absolutely no one shows up to work except Lena is there & is like "where the fuck did everyone go?"

"Time to get some new hires again I guess."

Let's go!! Ruin exploration gang!!

"Like, it’s Saturday night and I’m choosing to hang out in a hole with you. A wet hole. And not the good kind either."

Alice with the absolute best quotes. lmao

That sounds like something with giant wings like a bat or some sort of cloth flapping in the wind. Let's hope it's the latter!

Oh a rusty old filing cabinet! Wait tetanus- 😭

"That carved floor in the big atrium – I don’t know what’s going on with that." Ah so we're just gonna breeze past that then. 😶

These are probably the remnants of old avatar creation test areas like mentioned in the Gerry & Gertrude episode. I'm just assuming here.

A key? Big find! Let's go!

AS I WAS SAYING-

Gwen, it was nice knowing you. 🫡

"Now get out of his house."

Archivist! 👁👄👁

"symbols of ancient otherworldly power"

Wait could this be a timeline where this universe's Jane Prentiss actually did manage to invade the building & succeed? I'm thinking out loud.

21:10 that sounds like critters, insects specifically 👀

"I have memories of weird stuff I saw here, but no context. I want to know what was happening, why they chose us… why they didn’t choose me. Maybe find the bit where everything started to go wrong." I am so captivated & intrigued please recount said memories to us- I mean Alice so we can learn more. Please. 👀

EXCUSE ME, WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?!? WHO IS "[ERROR]?"

WHY DO THEY SOUND DISTORTED AS FUCK?? ARE THEY FROM THE PRIME TIMELINE OR IS THIS A NEW THING?

ARE WE GAZING OUR EYES UPON A WRETCHED THING FROM THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES?!

edit:

Is Lucia Wright an avatar of The Flesh now (in this universe or from the original timeline somehow)? Because it sure fucking sounds like it! 👀 Well, at least that key was put to good use! 😂

Also, supposedly Mr. Bonzo is a reference to Mr. Blobby.

Gwen, I'd be quaking in my boots too. That thing is terrifying!

Late observation but this universe & story seems to focus a lot on the cryptids & I like the direction it's going in! Loving this plot of cryptid hunters, childhood avatar experiments, a strange institute where our main character has past trauma, & just all of it is so good! 💜

Amazing episode, 10/10, I was at the edge of my seat the entire time! 💜 That Bonzo scene & the sound design were absolutely horrifying, thank you! The ending too! 🔥

#nigel dickerson if you need help from mr. bonzo or mr. six please blink twice omg #what if bonzo & six are actually the same creature or entity of sorts? #someone keep an eye on Colin; I'm worried about him #that carved floor in the big atrium is gonna come back into importance I just know it #so Lena uses mr. bonzo as a hitman crytpid of sorts... & now Gwen is exposed to the occult #this episode is a lot... holy crap #these episode do not miss; oh my gods; hit after hit; every time! #worm tracks made me think of jane prentiss; I just made the connection #did lucia wright become an avatar of the flesh & invade this world or is she a left over experiment of the magnus institute #I can only hope Gwen Bouchard will tell the others about wtf she saw (likely against Lena's wishes) #tmagp liveblog #mine #op #tmagp 10 #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #tma #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives

[tripleyeeet]

FIGURE YOU OUT (1)

SUMMARY: As Spider-Man's older sister it's your responsibility to make sure he comes home no matter the state. It's also your responsibility to question strangers who claim to be versions of him from other dimensions.

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 7,793

WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent (if that makes sense???), minor descriptions of injury, heavy alcohol use, mention of vomiting, inappropriate language.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OKAY SO this was originally supposed to be a hefty one shot but after much consideration I've decided it's going to read best as a series so you're getting not one but three parts! Hopefully y'all like it 'cause this is my first time writing for Miguel and I'm kind of nervous? :')))

CHAPTER LIST / NEXT CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

-

 “May, for the millionth time I’m not—“

Before you can even finish, Aunt May’s hands are on her face, pushing on the frustrated expression that laces through her features. She’s annoyed, as per usual. Exhausted, just like the pale and veiny hands that rest beneath the dimness of your dining room light, pulling at wrinkled skin. 

“I just think he’d be good for you, you know? Harry’s nice and attractive and—”

“Norman Osborn’s son?”

“Okay, but it’s not like the boy’s anything like his father.”

“That you’re aware of.”

She opens her mouth, a small huff releasing straight from her chest, knowing already you’ll never budge. You’re too stubborn like your father —like her nephew who so effortlessly had a counter for every argument he wound up tangled in. Like you, he’d fight to the death for every little thing and she knows it, causing her to merely frown. 

“Fine, fine but just know you’re missing out. He’s a real catch.”

You scrunch up your face, resisting the urge to gag knowing how much May chastises you for being childish. You’re an adult now, act like it! You practically hear the words echoing through your mind as you reach for the glass of wine in front of you, gripping the stem tightly as you take a huge gulp.

“Okay then, if not Harry, are there any other men?”

You almost cough into your glass, unprepared to answer. Sure there were men. Here and there you’d had some dates and flings and almost, maybe boyfriends. You played the field like any other twenty-something woman in Brooklyn trying for their shot at love by going out to bars or hopping on dating sites. Like everyone else, you scrolled through the endless faces and bios, picking and choosing your fave ones; having moments of is this the one with far too many boys who turned out to be nothing more than just a memory.

So yes and no, you decide, telling May the latter, knowing if you choose the former she’ll get too excited and start asking questions.

“You know you’re not getting any younger, kid.” 

“I know.” 

You also know that you should be offended. You should be pissed off or annoyed —any sort of negative emotion but all you feel is exhaustion, considering you have this conversation at least once a week. Sometimes twice if you have to drop by May’s or the shelter. 

Every time she sees you it’s as if she needs to put this pressure on you. To throw this burden on your shoulders so that she isn’t the only one thinking of it. Because if you’re thinking about it maybe you’ll do something about it, right?

“You should find someone to love —to settle down with.”

You want to. More than she knows. It’s lonely here in New York, living in your busted-up one-bedroom apartment with a brother who’s never around. Day in and day out you’re forced into a space of solitude you never asked for, moving aimlessly from bedroom to subway car to office and back again. 

It’s not ideal, especially when you have to watch Peter and his double life. Sure, it’s stressful —a burden sometimes more often than not, but at least it’s exciting. At least there’s substance.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed soon. The lab needs me early for testing,” you lie, smiling tiredly, hoping that May won’t notice. 

This time she doesn’t. Or at least, she feels worn down enough not to ask questions. A fact you’re thankful for as she nods her head and kisses your face, saying her usual goodbye before scurrying out the front door with a wave. 

When she’s gone you let out a heavy breath, running your fingers through the roots of your hair. You’re not sure how long you can keep living this way. Flowing from place to place like an aimless ghost. It hurts too much knowing all the potentials. All the crazy things waiting for you just outside your door. More than anything you want to experience them —to live them just like Peter. 

Secretly, you think you want to be like Peter. To be looked at —adored or hated, it doesn’t matter. Desperately, you want a pair of eyes to look at you as something other than you: a tired lab assistant just trying to survive. You want someone to see you, to know your worth in a way that doesn’t involve Petri dishes or DNA swabs. 

You want to feel needed, you decide. Not in a life-changing way per se. More needed in the sense of being someone’s first choice like MJ is for Peter. To have that one person you can rely on and vice versa no matter the circumstance. A ride or die. 

The thought makes you groan into the base of your hands as you pull at your roots, the vibrations against your skin making you pull away. It’s only eight and, embarrassingly enough, you’re ready for bed, your body weighing down in the chair you currently reside in. Already your eyes are starting close, their function slowing decreasing by the second as you reach for your glass of wine and down the rest in one gulp.

It’s disgusting but regardless you pour yourself another, already knowing you’ll need it to actually go to bed. 

You don’t sleep well when Peter’s out.

Blinking tiredly you pull your phone out of your pocket and shoot him a quick text. Are you good?

You don’t expect an answer but still worry when you don’t get one, causing your body to twitch as you continue to sit, downing glass after glass until the bottle’s empty and your head starts to feel like it’s swimming through molasses. 

By then it’s nearing nine. The lights of the city shine brightly through your window as you blink and rub your eyes, taking one last dizzy glance at your phone to see that Peter’s replied. 

He’s fine. What’s your address?

Scrunching up your face, you stare at the words in front of you, sounding out each letter so many times that it begins to blur in your mind. He’s fine, you read, knowing for a fact that Peter would never talk about himself in the third person. 

He’s not that weird.

Quickly, you disregard your rule of no phone calls in favour of answers, listening to the dial tone for a good minute before the other end crackles to life and a sigh pushes through. 

“Pete, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

You can feel your older sister instincts kicking in. Every worrying thought pushes itself through your brain right out of your ears to make room for a rage you haven’t felt in forever. Almost instantly it burns you from the inside out, attacking your chest with hot, heavy beats that have you standing from your chair and moving towards the front door in a rush.

As you do, the voice on the other end mumbles something you don’t quite catch, prompting you to yell. 

“Excuse me? Who are you? And why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“My name doesn’t matter.”

It’s a man on the other line. An older one that sounds almost as angry as you.

“Listen here, pal, I swear to god if you don’t tell me—“

“Peter’s fine. He’s a little banged up but we’ve got it under control. Just give us your address and—“

“We? Who’s we? What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Instead of listening to your demands he just groans again and asks for the address, making you groan right back and give it to him, too overwhelmed to care that some stranger and his friends have decided to take Peter into their mysterious hands. 

After that he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, prompting you to respond with an angry growl that has you stomping all over the house in preparation for guests you weren’t prepared for. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” you mumble drunkenly, pacing back and forth through your small living room, unable to sit still knowing that something happened. 

Something happened and you weren’t there to help, like usual. A thought that eats you up inside every time this happens because what can you do? You can’t fight crime like he can —you don’t have powers. You can’t heal his wounds —you’re not medically trained. So really, all you can do is offer him company when MJ isn’t around and rotate his ice packs. Make him food here and there but even that’s difficult when you spend most of your days at the lab.

Essentially you’re just another useless civilian who knows too much, leaving you distraught as you sit on the sidelines, praying to whatever god there is that he arrives home safe.

Thankfully tonight they managed to answer you in some capacity. Instead of dead, he’s just badly injured and as annoyed as you are, you’re still thankful for the outcome. Still thankful for the stranger on the phone despite the angered secrecy. 

You decide when he gets here you’ll apologize for the yelling. It’s the least you can do considering he and his friends probably have to drag poor Peter’s body out of some alleyway across the city. A difficult feat you’ve done a few times over the last decade or so. 

It’s not something you’d ever wish upon anyone. Not even the grumpy stranger over the phone whose gruff voice still rings through your ears as you anxiously move towards the kitchen and open the freezer, checking to see if there are any ice packs readily available. Shuffling through the frozen goods inside, you count four as well as a large bag of frozen vegetables, deciding then that you should probably wait to see the damage before even thinking of running to the pharmacy.

Out of the two of you, you’ve always been the worrier. The one whose mind constantly races at the sign of danger. Peter’s the fight and you’re the flight, and even before he became Spider-Man it had always been that way, which makes the waiting that much harder. The anticipation of what’s to come flooding you in waves of dread that leave you too unsettled to calm down. 

Continually you pace throughout the apartment, moving from kitchen to bedroom to living room in an endless loop that has you swirling around in such a stupor you barely hear the window of your bedroom being tapped on. 

The sound confuses you at first, knowing that it’s most likely just some bird. Peter would never make them take him up the fire escape but then it gets louder —more frantic. The tapping speed doubles as you stand disorientated in the living room, narrowing your eyes as if that’ll help your ears focus.

You realize quickly that it’s a someone tapping and not a something and immediately you spring into action, rushing to your bedroom window to see a trio of bodies all dawned in spider suits of their own. 

It leaves you breathless but still active as you push up the window, breathing out heavy breaths as you watch the smallest of the three —a lithe spider with pink webs stained over white— bound into the room to help pull Peter inside. 

“What took you so long?” 

It’s the voice from the phone, grumbling from the fire escape. He’s taller than the others —thicker. His suit black and red with an emblem that fills his broad chest with bold lines that drape down the front of his arms.

“Give her a break man, she’s probably scared to death.” 

Beside him, another Spider-Man whose suit looks more like Peter’s stands. Both of them grip your brother’s lower half, gently passing them over to the spider in your bedroom, prompting you to rush over to help.

“What the hell happened?”

He’s worse than you’d like to admit. The majority of his mask has been ripped apart. One of his eyes is completely uncovered, blooming with fresh bruises that cause it to swell almost completely shut. On his cheek, he’s got a pretty huge gash along with a few others around his chin and throat.

Immediately, tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes as they all move to lay him on the bed, making sure to be as gentle as possible. 

“It doesn’t matter what happened. What matters is he’s safe. Let’s go.” 

You turn to stare at him —the one who’s already caused you enough grief to last a lifetime. Angrily, you narrow your eyes, fighting the urge to yell as you watch his friends simultaneously shake their heads. 

“Seriously, man?”

“Miguel, you can’t just leave her with this.” 

They speak in unison, both of them matching your unimpressed response as you move in closer, pressing a finger to his chest. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me what happened I’ll kick your ass faster than you can say—“

He pinches the bridge of his nose and gives in, something that feels uncharacteristic even though you’ve just met. “He got a little beat up fighting someone he shouldn’t have, alright?”

“Alright?” you scoff, glancing between the three of them. “No, not alright. Not even a little bit. What do you mean he was fighting someone he shouldn’t have?”

“What do you mean what do you mean? Am I not being clear?”

“Not really, no.” 

He huffs, loudly. A heavy plume of air pushing through his mask. You can feel it fan your face as you take a small step away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the newfound presence of other spider people. 

You were almost certain Peter was the only one. 

“Maybe one of us should take the reins on this?” The blue and red one asks, prompting the other to nod, motioning for him to take over despite Miguel’s silent protests. 

“Look, we uh, we’re… we’re —how do I even start this? What do you guys usually say?” 

Without missing a beat, the shortest one takes off their mask to reveal a young girl with blonde hair. She looks familiar in a way you can’t quite place, her features bold and big and full of life, giving you a weird sense of deja vu. Have you met her before, you wonder, staring at her eyes and cheeks and mouth, picking apart the details until you’ve decided you definitely have. Somewhere.  

“Hi, I’m Gwen. This is also Peter and Miguel.”

She motions them to take their masks off but Miguel doesn’t budge. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest as Peter awkwardly peels his away, revealing a face that looks almost identical to your brother’s. 

Which obviously sends you into panic mode, seeing the somewhat distorted face of your brother on the body of someone else. It’s older —heavier, maybe. Unlike your Peter, this one’s eyes are filled with exhausted age and crow's feet. His lips are thinner and coated in a thick five o’clock shadow that takes up the lower half of his face. His figure is thicker, holding a bit of a gut but not enough to notice unless you’re staring.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Miguel says, but the two of them continue, moving through the conversation slowly to gauge your response. 

“Your brother isn’t the only Spider-Man,” Gwen tells you. “At least in general. In this universe he is but uh, there are lots of others which is where we’re technically from.”

You look at your brother confused, wondering if he’s always known or if this is newfound information for the both of you. If it’s new, you hope he’s okay. That once he’s awake and able to process everything that this doesn’t send him over the edge of sanity. 

He’s already hanging by a thread as it is. With family and friends and both of his jobs waiting in the wings at any given moment, the poor guy's constantly overworked. If he isn’t taking pictures for the Daily Bugle he’s studying at school or going on patrol as Spider-Man or laying on the floor in a heap of pain.

He doesn’t need any more stress.

“Listen, I appreciate you bringing him here but I think it’s probably best you guys go, yeah?” 

You smile as warmly as you can through the fog of alcohol that has you reeling. Simultaneously, you’re angry and confused —dizzy at the amount of so many new faces. You’re overwhelmed, to say the least, and knowing Peter he’ll end up the same when he wakes up. 

“Of course.” 

It’s the first time Miguel speaks with any sort of sincerity, his tone dulling down to a quiet calmness that sends a chill up your spine as you watch him fiddle with a watch-like mechanism on his wrist. 

In unison, both Gwen and Peter look at you with sombre expressions, their lips pushing into thin lines of almost disapproval as they watch you move towards your brother, completely forgetting that they’re even there. 

“Tell him if he sees anything suspicious to reach out,” Miguel adds, looking directly at you as he says it.

Cautiously, you look back and nod your head, trying to imagine the face underneath. You bet it’s old, based on the never-ending rage that it seems to radiate. He’s got the kind of attitude an old man would have, making you imagine bushy brows and forehead lines that have developed through continuous frowns. You imagine deep scars that have sat untreated for far too long. An overlay of bruises constantly decorating his frame due to misuse of the body. 

Standing next to your Peter, you imagine he’s the kind of guy who acts before he thinks. At the sign of danger, he spontaneously leaps to remedy any given situation regardless of details. He’ll do whatever it takes. 

He’s a fighter just like Peter. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Gwen waves before throwing on her mask. Old Peter does the same and even though you want to smile —to thank them for everything they’ve done, all you can do is nod and watch as Miguel presses the face of his watch, prompting an angular, orange portal to appear right in front of your window. 

The sudden presence of it somehow stirs Peter awake, prompting him to groan next to you. 

Immediately you move to his aid, kneeling near his face with concern as you press the back of your hand to his partially exposed forehead, feeling the beads of sweat that collect rubbing against your skin.

“Are you okay?”

He mumbles under his breath and moves to sit upright despite your protests. Slowly, he catches himself on the edge of the bed and swings his legs to the floor, doubling over in pain to watch as the three of them turn to face him one last time.

“You good, kid?” Old Peter asks.

“Never better,” he says back, moving to grip his stomach with his forearm, a bloodstained smile spilling across his face.

Despite the pain that’ll inevitably heal in the days to come, you know he’s being honest. Thanks to them, he’s never been better and upon hearing that you find yourself frowning, already knowing what that means. 

He wants to see them again. You imagine it’s because, in some capacity or another their appearance has made the burden of his existence easier. For once, their arrival has created a light inside him you’ve only seen one other time. It was when he finally told MJ that he was Spider-Man. 

As cliche as it was, he described it as this weight that had been lifted off his shoulders, and as you watch him smile at his new friends, you know that’s exactly how he feels now knowing that he isn’t the only one going through the motions. No longer is he the only one forced to navigate this life full of tangled webs. No, now he has friends. Partners that can aid him in the development of his career as Spider-Man. 

People that can help him better than you can.

Before they leave Miguel repeats the statement he asked you to relay to Peter. “Call if you see anymore anomalies.” It’s phrased differently. Molded in a way you’re not meant to understand, making you all the more angry as you watch them leave through the portal. 

“What does he mean by anomalies?”

Peter, now without his fellow spiders, winces as he takes off what’s left of his mask, ignoring your question in favour of repositioning himself back on the bed. Shakily, he sighs as he readjusts, trying his best not to disturb the injuries that cover his aching skin. 

“Can you at least tell me what happened?”

He’s silent for a moment, his mouth half open, unable to fully close thanks to the shiner located on the lower half of his cheek. Then, he cranes his neck towards you. “Some Doc Ock from another universe showed up,” he tells you, his voice low. “I was in the middle of dealing with a robbery when he showed up out of nowhere and caught me off guard.” 

You swallow hard, watching him lick his lips. They’re dry and cracked and covered in old blood that makes you want to cry because you hate seeing him like this. So tired and broken. 

“He didn’t look like our Doc. He was skinnier —younger. And his tech was completely different. He kept talking about me, or I guess his version of me and I was so confused.”

“Mhm.”

“He got me a couple times. Threw me around but then they showed up and I guess sent him back home. I don’t know, by then I’d blacked out.”

His story is easy enough to follow but still leaves you with questions. How did this Doc Ock jump into your universe? Did he have one of those bracelets? Did Peter have one? And if so, has he too gone to different universes?

The urge to bombard him with every single thought that races through your mind settles as you hear his strained breath, reminding you he’s in pain. Quickly, it resets the order of important tasks in your brain, sending you flying towards the kitchen to grab every ice pack you own and start stacking them along Peter’s wounds. 

Carefully you place one along the huge gash on his face, moving his hand to hold it steady before moving to his chest and placing one on either side of his ribs. 

“Are you okay? Like actually, no lying.” 

“Yeah, are you?”

You’re not. Not in the slightest. In fact, if it weren’t for the state he was in you’d be screaming by now, demanding more answers. Something he knows by the way you curtly nod your head instead of speaking. 

“I’m sorry, Miguel can be a lot.” 

Like always, it’s as if he’s read your mind, making you roll your eyes and scoff. “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Not really. I’m only really friends with Peter and Gwen. Everyone else are kind of like coworkers. They’re nice and we get along but aside from work we don’t keep much contact.”

“Aside from like, anomaly stuff?”

“Yeah.” 

It’s weird to uncover such a big secret from your own brother. He’s never been the type to keep things to himself, at least with you. So why this? Why them? 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, but make it quick I’m about to fall asleep.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

If it weren’t for the pain radiating through his shoulder you’re almost certain Peter would’ve responded with a shrug. A wordless movement of uncertainty that he instead replaces with a soft I don’t know that has you imagining Miguel and his idiotic mask telling him to keep his mouth shut.

“Was it Miguel?” 

It’s an uncomfortable statement to say out loud —an even more uncomfortable one to have confirmed as you watch Peter nod his head, a guilty expression plastered over his face. It makes you feel almost guilty yourself as you try your best not to explode at the thought of some asshole telling your brother what to do. At the thought of him controlling what he can and cannot tell you about his life. 

You wonder if it’s illegal for regular people like you to universe hop. It probably is but that doesn’t stop you from imagining a world where it isn’t anyway. A world where you rush through a portal of your own to find Miguel on the other side.

You’d give him a piece of your mind if you could, scold him for ever thinking he could keep such a broad existence a secret. You’d push that stupidly broad chest with all your force and tell him what’s what. That no matter how important he is amongst the spiders, you’re still Spider-Man’s sister and deserve the right to know what’s going on. 

“He’s not all bad, you know.”

Giving him an unimpressed look, you watch as he smiles, a small laugh pushing through his lips. 

“No, I’m serious. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges but he means well.” 

“How so?” 

You’re unconvinced but still curious. Who wouldn’t be after discovering the existence of other universes? 

“He cares about people in his own way. Kind of like you.”

“Me?” 

Should you be offended? 

“What I mean is, he’s only mean because he cares like you. You guys have that same intensity.”

You scrunch up your face. “I’m not intense.” 

Peter snorts as he rolls onto his side, hugging one of the ice packs as he moves to direct his back towards you, thus signalling the end of the conversation. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, sis.”

-

Peter isn’t answering your texts and it’s starting to stress you out. 

Across from you, Harry and Gwen sit chatting amongst themselves, sipping on what’s most likely their fourth or fifth drinks based on the way they’re leaning in and giggling as you call your brother for the ninth time.

It’s been nearly a month since the incident —two weeks since he started patrolling again— and despite knowing he never answers his phone, you’re still worried. He told you he’d be here an hour ago to escort you home. Something he always did when you got dragged out by the rest of the Oscorp staff. Being a woman, wandering the streets of New York at night wasn’t an option and even though you were technically a geneticist for a mega-corporation you weren’t about to cough up at least fifty bucks to get home, so Peter was agreed to be the next best thing. 

Or at least, he was supposed to be. 

By now you’re well past drunk. Your head is heavy and you can’t stop squirming in your chair because of how restless you feel. Your skin is hot under the fluorescents of the bar lights, their weird shade of neon pink beating down on you like a synthetic sun.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” you hear Harry say. 

You must’ve zoned out because both he and Gwen are already standing, grabbing their coats off the back of their chairs with grins too big to be deemed anything other than mischievous. 

You know immediately they’re going back to his place to fuck. It’s what always happens when Gwen drinks too much and decides that, just this once, she’ll indulge the boss's son. Unfortunately, though, this is probably the fifth time in the last year that this has happened, leaving you certain it’s more of a common occurrence than she lets on. 

“Is Pete still coming to get you?” Gwen asks.

You nod your head, unwilling to admit that he probably isn’t. That instead of flying through the air you’ll most likely be forking over way too much money to sit in some dingy car that smells like piss. 

“Okay, text me tomorrow. Let’s go for brunch!”

The two of them leave hand-in-hand, a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed as you continue to stare, trying to decide how the hell all of that started. It’s not like they’re friendly to each other. At work, Gwen is constantly complaining about Harry’s silver-spoon upbringing. Talking about how privileged he is despite her dad being the police commissioner.

A detail you’re always tempted to bring up, knowing that neither of them has ever truly known what it's like to struggle. Having grown up in big houses with paid tuitions and a never-ending family to love, their lives are completely separate from yours.

It’s why you resent them so much, you think, because growing up, you and Peter never had that. When you were young your parents abandoned you with May and Ben, falling off the face of the earth soon after. Back then you always wondered why but now you know it’s because they weren’t ready. They were young and in love and despite thinking they wanted to extend that love into children, it became quickly obvious they’d made a mistake. A mistake May offered to fix.

You liked May but she wasn’t your mom. Same with Ben. As time went on, you let them think they were your real parents, listening to them when they gave you advice; following their rules so long as you lived under their roof. You didn’t call them mom or dad but you respected them as if you did. At least up until Ben died and Peter got powers and everything got sort of complicated after that. 

And since then, it continued to be complicated. Each year that passed, something new and strange always happened, leaving you there to try and pick up the pieces. 

Most of it always involved Peter. Peter becoming Spider-Man; Peter nearly dying to Doc Ock; Peter nearly dying to Vulture; Peter nearly getting infected by Venom. It was like clockwork year after year, tending to the needs of your brother while trying to live a normal life. 

You couldn’t imagine how he felt. Sure, things were hard for you but for him? God, it must be hell.

Which is why you feel so guilty for phoning him. He’s probably busy dealing with some more important shit like stopping murders or break-ins or maybe even more anomalies. 

You really hope he’s not dealing with the last one. Because if he is it means Miguel’s in town. 

God, you hate that guy.

After the incident, Peter updated you on pretty much the whole anomaly thing. Apparently, in another dimension, there was this headquarters where spider people from all over the universe came to report various issues with their home worlds. 

Overall, the details were a bit confusing —you remember Peter saying something about them being a secret society and that Miguel was their leader but not much else stuck because honestly after that you sort of zoned out. At least until he mentioned that he was officially a part of it all, earning himself his own little watch. 

Upon hearing that, a part of you was proud. A much bigger part though, was skeptical, considering your immediate distrust of Miguel. In that one meeting alone he was rude and weird and you didn’t want Peter hanging out with him.

Not that you had any say, because Peter does what Pete does and that’s fine even though he can be a little bit too trusting —the kind of guy that always sees the good in people. Opposite to you, his trust is extended to whoever, whenever which you know is what ultimately makes him a good Spider-Man. People see that and immediately think of safety —of security in a situation that otherwise isn’t.

As a true New Yorker, you trust no one. Not even the guy that steals the seat across from you with a smile. 

“You here alone?” 

Your phone is still pressed to your ear as you stare him down, the line continuously ringing over and over and over again until it goes to voicemail and you lazily repeat the process. As you do, you continue to pay little mind to the man in front of you, merely watching him glance around the building, a glass of beer tucked tightly in his hand. 

“You calling your boyfriend?”

“Nope” 

“Girlfriend?”

You shake your head and he grins in the way that hyenas do when they’ve found fresh meat. Under the bar lights, his teeth look malicious and jagged, taunting you in a way that makes you internally nervous but externally confident. 

On the outside, you do your best impression of someone brave. Someone like Peter or even Miguel. Your forehead scrunches to form unimpressed lines, your eyes narrowing to match the way your lips tightly push together. 

Across from you, the man continues to grin despite this, looking you up and down and up again with a fire so fully lit inside his eyes you can already feel the oncoming burn.

You hang up and decide to call May. It’s a last resort, knowing that once that phone rings even once you’re in for an earful. You shouldn’t be out so late, kid, you know better! 

Even though you’re in your mid-twenties May still chastises you about the dangers of the city. Working with those less fortunate, you assume it’s because she’s seen some shit. The city’s a fucked up place as you know from both her and Peter but it’s not like you’re unprepared to handle it. You always have a plan! A getaway or an escape route. It’s not your fault that tonight’s plan accidentally fell through.

As you go through your contacts to click on May’s number another body takes the seat next to you. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

The voice sounds nicer than you remember, almost pleasant despite who it’s attached to. Awkwardly, you lock your phone and turn to look, noticing the unfamiliar features of a man you’ve grown to hate. 

Damn it, he’s attractive. And not nearly as old as you imagined him. He’s probably mid-thirties tops, you guess, surveying the texture of his tanned skin. It’s nice. Not as aged as Old Peter’s but you can see some of the same lines around his eyes as he glances between you and the man across.

“Can I help you?”

Miguel’s expression says it all. Fuck off. You can see it in the way his dark brows pinch towards the top of his long nose, showcasing his anger. The kind that’s almost impossible to replicate, the man quickly discovers, prompting him to merely sigh and leave the table, admitting defeat.

Once he’s gone you let out a heavy breath and sink in your seat. Never in your life did you think you’d be happy to see Miguel, and yet here you are. 

“Thank you.” 

Without so much as a glance, he stands from his chair and motions to the exit with his chin. Like usual, he’s got an air of arrogance you can’t quite stand, leaving you annoyed again as you roll your eyes and grab your coat off the back of your seat. 

He’s halfway out the door by the time you catch up to him. Your head, still drunk off the many pints of cheap beer you’d downed throughout the night, sloshes through the crowded room until it smacks dab right into Miguel’s back, prompting him to turn with a glare. 

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” he says. 

Despite wanting to, you don’t protest. Instead, you just follow him out of the building and down the street where he cuts into an abandoned alleyway and stops, checking on you with concerned eyes. 

“If I didn’t already know you were also Spider-Man I’d definitely be freaked out right now,” you say, trying your best not to slur as you lean against the wall of one of the buildings. The brick feels cool against your face.

“How much did you drink in there?” 

“At least five but probably more?”

“Five what?”

You shrug. There’s a moment of silence after that. One where you can feel your eyes fluttering in and out of focus, watching the way Miguel places his hands on his hips and stares you down. 

You can tell that he hates you now, officially. What once was merely a single conversation gone bad has turned to two which means you’re now considered a burden. A problem.

His problem. 

“I’m going to assume that travelling by air is a no-go,” he says; sighing because it means he’s probably going to have to walk you home.

Which you’re sure he doesn’t want to do considering he’s in charge of all the spider people. He’s probably got better things to do than to walk home his employee’s sister. 

“Where’s Peter?”

You’re on the move again before you know it, walking at Miguel’s side, watching the way he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“He’s out with the others. Another anomaly showed up when you called. He was busy so he asked me to come get you.” 

“Why’d he ask you?” 

Unfortunately for both of you, your filter is absolutely obliterated. Gone with the drinks you’d downed throughout the night. Every aspect of the embarrassment you’d usually feel right now is gone, your innermost thoughts quickly bubbling to the surface like the head of your last beer. 

Miguel, realizing this, shrugs it off and continues walking. Every so often he has to stop to make sure you’re alright —you are most of the time, but every third or fourth time you begin to slow he watches as you double over knowing that you’re probably going to throw up. 

“You good?”

Slowly you crawl to the ground until you’re on all fours, your hands gripping the edge of the sidewalk despite knowing how dirty it is. Beneath your palms and it’s cold and damp from the rain, prompting you to gag even harder because that means there’s probably mud on your hands. Dirty, gross mud from the bottom of people’s shoes. 

You feel a hand on your back. Carefully, it rubs a line back and forth along your spine, causing you to inhale and exhale and focus on the sudden calmness of his voice. 

“You’ll probably feel better if you just let it out.” 

“Mhm.”

“I know it’s gross but I promise it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if he’s blessed you with the promise of no judgement, you vomit on the ground, feeling your throat burn with the familiar acidity. As you recover, he continues to rub your back in long, slow movements, making you thankful that at this moment he doesn’t hate you.

Or at least, he chooses not to show it. 

“Thank you, again,” you mumble. 

This time he at least nods, acknowledging your words as he helps pull you to your feet, giving you one final pat on the back before you continue to walk in silence.

-

Miguel insists on staying until Peter’s back, despite your protests. 

His face, heavy with exhaustion looks at you, unwilling to budge on the matter as he pushes himself through the door. “Peter told me to take care of you,” he tells you. “So I’m gonna do that, okay? End of story.”

Now that you’re somewhat sober from the long walk home, you can feel all the hatred you have for him flowing through your system. Sure, he may have walked you home —comforted you in a difficult time but he’s still a dick. Under that sympathetic Spider-Man act he’s still the man that makes you want to scream every time Peter mentions him.

“Fine, but the second you hear anything from Peter you have to tell me.” You wag your finger at him intensely as you wander to the kitchen, feeling your mouth begin to dry up from the amount of water you’ve managed to avoid all night. 

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

He sits on the couch without another word, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. Underneath, his watch emits a warm toned glow, prompting you to look over as he presses the face revealing a small hologram lady. 

“Wow, so nice of you to finally drop by! What’d you do, take her out for more drinks?”

Miguel groans and leans back into the couch, his body practically melding into the cushions. “Is there any news about the anomaly?” 

The woman crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a look —one you can’t quite place as she pulls the pink-heart glasses down the bridge of her nose. “I’ll tell you but only if you tell me how your night went.” 

Her voice is full of mischief, causing Miguel’s head to practically smack into the back of your couch, his eyes finding refuge in the ceiling. He’s embarrassed, you realize then. Probably because instead of being the superhero like everyone else he was demoted to babysitter. 

“The night was fine. She threw up, we walked home, end of story. Update, please.”

“We walked home, huh?” She wiggles her brows and darts around, the light from the watch moving around to get what you assume is a better look at your apartment. “Is she there?”

Even though his head is still hung uncomfortably over the edge of the couch, Miguel still manages to threaten you with his eyes. A warning you reluctantly accept as you move further into the kitchen, making sure you’re out of view.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Ooh, and did you tuck her—“

“Lyla, can I please just get an update?” 

You’ve never heard him so defeated. So tired. It’s like all the fire inside of him has suddenly burnt out and all that’s left is the remnants of ash. His eyes are almost closing without warning, threatening to cut him off from the outside world as Lyla tells him about someone named Hobie and how he’s with your brother. 

Apparently, they’re on Earth-58163. Another universe you know nothing about and probably never will because Peter refuses to talk about it. He always tells you it’s too complicated to explain —too intricate. “If I tried, it’d probably break your brain,” he tells you, brushing off the conversation time and time again. 

It’s annoying in a way that makes you feel like you’re kids again, the child-like jealousy overthrowing your desire to be a good person and just drop it. You need to know more. To understand how this all works so that you’re not just some outsider looking in like usual. 

When you hear Miguel say goodbye to Lyla you practically sprint over to the couch and plop down beside him, deciding that if Peter won’t tell you, you’ll go right to the source. 

“What’s your universe like?” 

There’s still a buzz sitting at the back of your brain, egging you on to set aside your differences in favour of answers. 

“That’s classified.” 

“Classified? Are you serious?”

“Yes, that’s why I said it?”

He doesn’t understand that you’re making fun of him. Or, at least, if he does, he refuses to comment.

“Peter never tells me anything about you guys.” You sink into the couch like Miguel, your arms resting limply on either side of you. “It’s not fair.” 

“Life’s not fair, niña.” 

You scrunch up your face. “I’m not a kid, old man.” 

“Are you under the age of thirty?” He raises his brow. 

“Yes.” 

“Niña.” 

There’s a moment where you think about reaching over and smacking him in the face. Just a small, lightly placed tap, similar to the one you give Peter when he’s being annoying, but immediately you retract such thoughts knowing he’d probably just yell at you. 

“Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m a kid.”

“No but it means other things.”

“Like?”

His head turns to face you, his cheek half pushed into the backing of the couch. “That you’re inexperienced.”

“I’ll have you know I’m actually very experienced.”

“That’s what someone inexperienced would say.” 

“Says the guy who runs a secret society of spider people and still manages to get benched for the night.”

You expect him to yell at you then. To suddenly uproot himself from the couch and give you the kind of lecture May would but instead he just snorts and shakes his head, moving to rest the back of his head on the couch again. 

It confuses you if you’re honest. You don’t know Miguel in the slightest, but based on what you’ve heard you assume he’s the kind of guy who harbours a high temper and an unrealistic demand of respect. A boss in every aspect of his life. Because of this, you assume he can’t take a joke. That he doesn’t understand the concept of teasing or banter because his ego takes it too seriously. 

It throws you a bit, your mind suddenly questioning all your previous opinions. You suppose then it isn’t fair to judge him so harshly. Considering the job title, he’s probably under a lot of stress. With such a high volume of people looking to him for guidance, it’s more than likely Peter’s right. He’s not that bad. 

“Okay, well, if you won’t tell me about your universe because you think I’m inexperienced will you tell me about you?”

He’s silent. Or at least dormant, his breath steadily flowing as he slides further and further into the couch. You can tell then that his body is hanging by a thread of consciousness, subtly stirring in pace with his breathing. Slowly, his chest rises and falls, pushing his elbows in tandem as his mouth begins to fall open, making you yawn. 

It’s probably best you go to bed too, you decide, considering the only reason you’re still awake is to get information. If your informant is out cold there’s no sense in prolonging the inevitable, so instead of delaying you quietly stand and stretch your back. Loudly, it cracks, creaking with an age you’re certain now that Miguel would chastise you for. “You’re too young to be creaking like that,” he’d probably say. 

Another yawn filters through as you wander over to your bedroom and grab an extra blanket, throwing it over your shoulders like a shawl as you walk back to Miguel. 

“What are you doing?”

His voice scares the shit out of you, making you jump and embarrassingly let out a shocked squeal, your heart pounding violently in your chest. 

He’s still frozen in place but this time his eyes are half-opened, looking at you with interest. 

“Getting you a blanket.” 

“I don’t need a blanket.” 

“Okay, well, I didn’t know that? I’m not a mindreader.” 

“Why not?”

He may not be Peter Parker in his universe but he certainly retains the same sarcasm, leaving you annoyed as you tear the blanket off and toss it onto his head. 

“Goodnight, old man.” 

“Goodnight, niña.”

-

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#miguel o'hara fan fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara series #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #summer writes

[zooophagous]

Grey filtered light crept into the room softly, by degrees. Artemis crinkled her nose and shut her eyes tight as it gradually replaced the comfortable darkness. She opened her eyes and let out a startled gasp- only to shut her eyes and inhale in annoyance at her own reflex. Strauss lay facing her in bed, still sleeping deeply. In his “dream state,” as he referred to it. It wasn’t quite the same as being asleep, though he did report dreams. 

His eyes were slitted open slightly, though glassy and sightless. His thin lips were retracted to show the tips of his fangs. The muzzle had come off at some point in the evening. He looked older like this, and as much as she hated to admit it- quite ugly, when he wasn’t able to disguise his appearance with polite mannerisms. 

She slid out of the bed and into her pajama pants. Strauss was still nude, and she would leave him to sleep. He’d need it. She took the comforter and draped it over his prone form, protecting him from whatever sunlight might come in through the window. 

Sufficiently robed, she quietly exited and softly shut the door behind her. Hopefully auntie wouldn’t go poking around and ask any awkward questions about why Mr. Strauss was in the wrong bed. Auntie, for her part, was blessedly silent. Her pain medications had locked her in a deeper dream state than Strauss’ own, and Artemis found herself in possession of a rare gem: A moment to be alone in peace.

This called for a celebration. Coffee would have to do for it. In their anxious hunt for supplies, they had forgotten sugar and cream, so it would have to be choked down without niceties. She brewed her cup and sipped it piping hot. The heat wrecked her taste buds and burned all the way down. At least she couldn’t taste how bitter it was like that. And honestly, something about the pain was therapeutic. Better to externalize that sort of thing. Better on the tongue than on the brain. 

“Don’t drink it all, dear. I’ll need it if I’m going to shoot straight.”

Ursula yawned and toddled into the room to claim her own cup. 

“Mornin’.” Artemis nodded at her aunt. “How do you feel? How’s the leg?”

“Bad. As always. But I did at least get some sleep. Are you about ready to go?”

“I can be very shortly. Not like there’s a lot to pack. Where exactly are we headed?”

“I found an affordable hotel a little closer to the city. Would be a decent place to park a car and start looking for Mr. Cunningham. I’ve managed to speak to a few of our operatives. Most of the clerical staff have been released, but none of the slayer team or security wing has been heard from. Officially they’re still missing persons, the fire department is looking for bodies.”

She sighed heavily. “With any luck, they won’t actually find any bodies and the team members are still alive somewhere. But you know, it was a very nasty fire.”

“I’ll say. Their families must be losing their shit. Have the released operatives started talking to anyone? Police?”

“The ones I’ve spoken to are quite insistent they haven’t blabbed to anyone about anything. Personally I think it’s because I’m still scarier than the Witchfinders.” Ursula smirked. 

“What about us? I suppose we’re missing persons too at this point.”

“Yes, and presumed dead. The building itself is currently sectioned off and not safe to enter. Luckily it seems most of the library survived, but the rest of it is a near total loss. That medical wing is going to be very difficult to replace.”

“Assuming we’ll even replace it. Assuming the Institute even has a future.”

“It does have a future.” Ursula set her mug down with an authoritative clunking sound. “So long as I’m around, and the director is around-” She poked her finger at Artemis’ chest, “-There is an Institute, and it has a future. It’s just not clear what kind of future yet.”

“I wish I could be so sure.”

“Break it down into manageable steps. One task at a time. First things first we get to town, find a few emergency bolt holes, collect who we can and try to keep our people from getting hurt any more than they already have been.”

“If I turn myself over they might barter for the release of the slayer team-”

“Absolutely not. I’ll give them Strauss before I give them you.”

“Strauss isn’t yours to give. But something tells me he’d also give himself up before letting me take responsibility for my own mess.” She groaned and rubbed her face.

“Our mess, dear. Don’t take credit for all my hard work.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The two women froze. Artemis felt her heart plunge into her stomach and radiate a sour coldness through her body.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Ursula set her jaw and let out a stiff sigh through her nose. 

“I suppose that’s the door.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s too bad.” She shook her head. “I really hoped we’d have a little more time.”

“What do we do?”

“We cooperate. We’re not in any shape to fight at this point and even if we tried, we’d only make it worse.”

Ursula made her way to the front door. A male figure darkened the window. “Stay behind me dear. If they come in shooting I’d rather it be me.”

She opened the door carefully and blinked in confusion at the not so strange face that appeared on the doorstep. A ruddy face, haloed in white hair. Neatly dressed and smiling.

“... Vicar Martin?” She stuttered. “You’re here? Have the Witchfinders exhausted their supply of fighting personnel already?”

“Miss Harker. I wish I could say it was good to see you, but the circumstances really could be better.”

“How did you find us? Did someone rat us out? Where are the guns? The police? The navy?” Ursula craned her head to see past his shoulder. Vicar Martin only laughed in reply. 

“No, just me. You were expecting maybe Mel Brooks? Can I come in?”

“I feel like I ought to pat you down for weapons first.” Ursula quipped, but stood aside to let him in. “What do you want?”

“Believe it or not Miss Harker, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m sure you’re having a hard time believing that, but I’m here to warn you. All three of you are in very real and pertinent danger.”

“Not as much danger as you.”

A deep voice snarled from the stairwell. Strauss descended with a jump and landed heavily in the foyer, making the floor shake. He stuck his landing and stood on his feet, bristling in front of the vicar, teeth bared, and still completely stark nude.

“Oh DEAR GOD!” Martin put up a hand in surrender and covered his eyes with his other hand. “Why… why are you naked?”

“Why are you here?” Strauss tilted his head. “You have a moment to answer before I literally disarm you.”

Artemis stood in open mouth shock. Ursula turned bright red and began to sputter. 

“MISTER STRAUSS! I can’t… why… just…”

“It’s ok Luther.”  Artemis found her voice in the chaos, and used his first name to distract him from his own rage. “Vicar Martin isn’t with them.”

“For his sake, that had better be true.” Strauss hissed. “You haven’t said why you’re here. Very foolish to follow a scared vampire, Martin. Animals are more dangerous when cornered.”

“Just… give me a moment. I’ll explain, I just need a minute to collect my thoughts.” Martin let out an exasperated sigh and pointedly avoided eye contact. “I wasn’t expecting to see a vampire’s penis today.”

“You are one of the privileged few. Enjoy it.” Strauss sneered.

“You should get some pants on Strauss. We’ll all talk about this together when you’re dressed. Now, please?” Artemis asked shakily.

“The Van Helsing Institute has poked and prodded at my nude form at its leisure for this long. When I appear nude of my own free will it is a problem. I see how it is.” He snorted, but still made his way up the stairs to find a pair of pants. Artemis’ gaze lingered a moment on his backside but she quickly corrected herself to talk to the vicar.

“Sorry. He ah… he sleeps nude and he must have heard you come in. Let’s talk over coffee? Please.”

“Right.” Martin followed her into the kitchen. “Your pet vampire is very protective of you. That’s a good thing.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. You’ll hurt his feelings.” Ursula snorted. “If you are not here to throw us in the clink, what is it you do want?”

“I am here to warn you.” He looked at her very seriously. “Miss Harker. The violence perpetrated upon the institute was not something I recommended, or approved of. The Witchfinders have already overstepped their boundaries and then some, but I doubt they plan on stopping just because they get a disciplinary notice in the mail. And real help may come too late.”

“Tell us something we don’t know.” Ursula rolled her eyes and set to work dusting off a mug to pour the poor frazzled vicar a coffee. “I suppose if you can find us it’s only a matter of time before the Witchfinders do.”

“Yes. It was a bit foolhardy to move into a property that still has your name on it and expect to stay hidden.”

“What choice did we have?” Artemis asked. “It’s not like there are a lot of dedicated shelters for homeless vampires.”

“That is true. And your list of supporters has recently shrunk.” Martin sipped his bitter coffee and settled at the table. 

“A creature of the night is used to operating with very few friends.” Strauss’ voice crept up the vicar’s spine and made him shudder. The vampire reappeared, mercifully dressed. He was now a little overly covered, draped in a blanket over his head and shoulders to hide from the light pouring in from the kitchen windows.

“You aren’t entirely without friends. Without staff, maybe, but what happened back at the institute… the raid, the arson…” He shook his head. “It isn’t what this is supposed to be about. Even if you were a dangerous creature- not saying I think that’s true- abducting all of those people and nearly killing several more with fire and flashbangs is hardly the way to neutralize a single threat.”

“So you claim to be on our side?” Strauss asked coolly.

“I didn’t say that. I need to finish my own personal investigation first. I told you before I am not your enemy, I’m not here to try to trap you or trick you. But I do need to be an impartial judge. And I simply must ask, therefore, Mr. Strauss.” Martin turned and made very tense eye contact with the vampire.

“Did you kill Gregor White?”

It was Strauss’ turn to feel uncomfortable. He broke eye contact. 

“No. Gregor White saved my life. I owed him a debt. I would not have harmed him.”

“Why is he dead? Why does it look like a vampire did it?”

“A vampire very likely did. He was on Sylvain Pietra’s hit list.”

“And you know this how?”

“She told me. She tried to feed him to me. I refused.”

“So you have been associating with her? A known murderess, and shortly thereafter White is dead, and you claim you have nothing to do with it?”

“If you must know.” Strauss bristled. “I was assisting with YOUR investigation when it happened. I took the initiative to find Sylvain when your ilk could not, and question her about the male victim found in the park. It was both easier and safer for me to attempt to interrogate her than any human vampire hunter. I stuck my own neck out for your sake.”

“And Gregor White wound up dead?”

“Yes. I regret it. I tried very hard to prevent it. At the cost of my own skin. I am sure if you searched his apartment you found a good deal of my DNA on the floor. I was sloughing it off quite liberally when he let me use his bathroom.”

“Was it a fruitful venture then, Strauss? Did Gregor’s death at least give you any information about the case?”

“Ehh. Yes and no. Sylvain told me she was not responsible for the death of the young man found in the park.”

“And you believed her?”

“She had no reason to lie to me.”

“So she’s innocent of that murder, but guilty of killing Gregor?” 

“It would appear so.”

“Your story seems very flimsy and unlikely.”

“Your neck seems very flimsy you accusing underhanded little-”

“Strauss.” Artemis interrupted. “He’s right. This entire thing looks very bad for us. It will look even worse if you tell the only impartial observer in all of this that you have a violent temper.”

“Apologies.” Strauss pinched the bridge of his nose and folded himself into a chair, looking defeated. “I am very tired and under a good deal of stress and I am very upset at having to continuously defend myself. Asking to exist peacefully should not be treated like an unreasonable request.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, Mr. Strauss.” Martin folded his hands. “I don’t actually think you are the killer of either party.”

“No?”

“If you truly were a violent monster, and these two women under your unholy sway, you would have fallen on me and torn me to pieces as soon as you saw I was alone instead of inviting me in for coffee.” Martin sipped his now room temperature drink. 

“I told you before and I repeat it now. I am not your enemy. I’m on the side of the truth. Whether it comes from a smiling priest or a snarling vampire is not my concern.”

“So what do we do now?” Ursula interjected.

“Our church runs a halfway house in the city. It’s been closed for renovations for some time, but it is most of the way habitable. You’ll need to pardon our dust a bit, but your name isn’t on it and nobody will be expecting us to shelter you. Officially, I’m supposed to be helping with the effort to track and capture you.”

“It will do. We can leave immediately and we should.” Ursula pushed herself up from the table to gather her things. “I do have a question for you Emille. Have you… heard anything about anything else being captured from the institute?”

“If you’re referring to the lycan, no. He’s still at large. Still considered a dangerous, kill-on-sight target. He’s not the big ticket item. It’s Strauss they really want, but if they see your friend they will kill him for revenge.”

“He is alive. That is all I care about.” Strauss turned and faced the vicar. “I have misjudged you, Vicar Martin. Vielen dank für die hilfe.” He extended a claw to the vicar to shake. 

“No dead mice this time?”

“Not unless you want one.”

The two locked hands in a firm shake. Ursula set her mug in the sink. 

“It’s settled then. Grab your things. I’ll start the car.”

#wayward souls #writing

[cozzzynook]

Having thoughts of secretly sparked Bumblebee.

He knew something was up when he kept opting out of his favorite energon even giving away his secret stash of his favorite minerals that tasted overly sweet, his favorite secret indulgence.

His tanks couldn’t handle the thought of the stuff and his smell sensor kept malfunctioning every time he smelled the stuff. He snuck from his room late one night, servos nervously fiddling as he tried to work up the nerve to get some fuel into his systems but he simply just couldn’t bring himself to.

His concerns grew as his tank churned almost all hours of the day purging without fail after each transformation. He was thankful his team was none the wiser since he didn’t like being worried over but he knew something was very wrong when he tried to transform into his alt mode and the world went black.

He was thankful it happened after his patrol when he’d already commed the team letting them know he was going on a long lone drive and he was, truthfully he was.

Until he felt so dizzy his processor was faulting on even remembering his name let alone transforming. He doesn’t remember hitting the ground but he woke to pains wracking his frame and joints all over. His hub indicated he’d been asleep for the past seven hours.

He was in so much shock he almost missed the reason his self diagnostic scans provided him as to why he was in such peculiar shape.

Sparked, his hub read.

Sparked.

Him, bumblebee, sparked.

If he wasn’t having a hard time with his air intakes venting before he did now.

Both time and his intakes stopped all together.

The lack of fuel intake, the intolerance to his favorite meal and snack, the tiredness he felt no matter how deep a recharge. The slight raise to his chassis where his spark laid hidden all made so much sense now even if he had half a mind to try and deny it.

He suddenly was overcome with the necessary energy to scramble into a half sitting position and open his spark chamber. Getting a first hand look at the bright glow of not only his own spark but two tiny sparks that were hugged against both sides of his own.

His servos fell and he couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t believe nor stop staring at his vulnerable and open spark chamber that not only housed his life but two others.

He was sparked.

Bumblebee was sparked and he was going to become a creator in ayear by Earth’s standard time.

‘I’m going to be a creator..I’m..i’m going to be someones carrier,’ his processor drenched in distraught as his faceplates remained in shock. A stream was threatening to leak from his optics when a thought quite literally slammed his spark chamber shut.

Thudding footsteps, heavy peds, glaring red that were once lulling yellow always besides his long time conjuxed. Those four glowing red optics were a sight he was beyond gifted to behold and the little sliver of a smile and two warm fields accompanying it had him melting just the same as he did the day he saw and felt them.

He wasn’t sure why the two felt the need to see him, to touch him, to give caring and wanting touches to him when they were so perfect for each other and far too different from him.

Thoughts like these rang in his processor more often than he would ever care to admit.

He kept his insecurities and lack of assurance along with the rampant fluctuations of his em field close at spark. He never let the another feel the emotions warring inside him no matter how every bot who knew him claimed he wore his spark on his sleeve.

‘I can’t tell them..not..not about this..they’re conjux with each other. I’m..I’m no one. I’m just a momentary interest to spice things up in the berth.’

‘When the war ends, hopefully at a time we’re alive to see it, things will change and they won’t want me anymore…’

‘I’m just a pleasure bot they would use during our time away from our factions…sure they snuck me on board the Nemesis more often than not..but..they’re conjuxed..’

The flashes of the purple tank mech sitting in his large lab, working on a classified project Bee never bothered to ask about. The scientist sliding an optic over at the communications officer who watched the monitors of not only Earth but other territories commanded under Decepticon reign that again Bee pays no real mind to.

He’s not there to gain information just like the tank of a mech and the slim master spy don’t bother asking him for information nor do they try to gather intel from any data pads Bee brings with him.

He knew deep down both would find it illogical under any other circumstance to not take advantage of the opportunity given and yet neither crossed that boundary just as he never crossed theirs.

Only now Bee feels he’s crossed something much worse than a simple boundary.

He’s played with fire and now he’s burning along the frays as he struggles to intake through his vents no matter how much he presses along his chassis.

He slept with two conjuxed mechs.

Two very dangerous mechs known as the SIC and TIC of the decepticon army.

His dark thoughts reared their ugly heads at the front of his processor glimpsing at all the times he turned his optics from the conjuxs loving displays towards each other. The scientist was not a fan of touch or bots in his personal space neither was the communications officer but for each other they made exception.

So Bee avoided initiating any touch between the two along with allowing them to enter his space freely whenever they so pleased even going along with letting them initiate both interfacing and after face care.

The two knew exactly what the other wanted and Bee was happy to take whatever form of affection they would give him. Whether it be simple cleaning him up around his valve and laying comfortably in the berth to getting comfortable in their arms as they both held him on either side or each other.

Deep down he knew he wasn’t special to the two, he was a passing fling that somehow managed to go on for about an Earth years time. He was young and foolish falling for the quiet and mysterious sparks of a conjux couple but he couldn’t help himself. He figured he could keep the feelings close at spark not letting another soul know how he truly felt about the pair. Not even the science officer nor communications spymaster knew he was in love with them.

And seeing as how they were loyal to each other and the cause and not some young foolish bot who managed to get sparked on accident that was on the opposite side of their faction, he knew he needed to keep it that way.

His friends, comrades and family could never know about the sparks he was carrying. Bee would be put in the stockades or worst, they’d rip out his sparklings and send him to be tortured and have his processor torn to bits for information looking through his memory core and hard drives for any intel he may have given or received during his time with the two decepticons.

It wouldn’t matter if he was telling the truth in never giving up intel to the two nor would all his past acts of fighting for the autobot cause be remembered.

He was a traitor.

A sparked traitor who laid in the berths of two highly dangerous mechs who would offline him and their sparks the moment they discovered his condition and status.

He had to get out of there.

He needed to leave Jasper Nevada and with it his connections to both his friends and faction and the two mechs he grew to love.

He couldn’t transformer into his alt mode at the moment out of fear he would purge and momentarily offline again. So he scrapped his comms to his team, hiding his em field and spark signature before taking one last look in the direction of their base before turning and walking off.

If he were lucky he would make it to the cities edge and head out before his team sent any search parties for him.

He was confident the SIC and TIC wouldn’t be troubled once he didn’t show at their usual meeting spot. If he hadn’t passed out and discovered said reasoning for his strange behavior and symptoms he would’ve been on his way to meet with them.

He didn’t think they would be concerned maybe upset at wasting their time and any fuel energon on coming to meet with him but he’s sure after some time away from him they would move on, forgetting him in favor of time with each other.

Flashes of the two having things go back to normal swallowed his processor whole with every step he took away from the city. Images of the purple tank working in his lab as the spymaster cuddled with Ravage who would often curl in Bee’s lap rubbing along his chassis and tank. Bee didn’t think much of it when the feline cassette started doing it he just hoped it meant she was warming up to him.

Though, none of Soundwaves cassettes actually disliked him as far as he knew, they each cuddled up to him one way or another its just more recently they all started to make an engine rumbling noise that had him falling into recharge. He couldn’t for the life of himself fall into recharge in his own berth but every time Frenzy and Ravage laid on his lap and purred with their engines he was able to fall into recharge.

Neither Shockwave nor Soundwave ever disturbed him when this happened even as the habit grew more and more with frequency. Frenzy and Ravage had a habit now of sticking close to him and preferring being by his side whenever he set foot onto their base or met in their secret spot.

Bee should’ve guessed then that something was wrong but he hadn’t, he couldn’t have known it meant he was carrying since he’s never carried before. He was just glad he could recharge in peace after his steadily piling symptoms were leaving him drained.

‘I hope they don’t miss me too much,’ Bee mused to himself with worrying servos, his pedes hurt the farther he walked and he briefly wondered just how difficult his carrying would become since it was his first. Being a carrier meant having to know all there was to it in case of accidental sparking.

Going through his processor he really should have seen all the clear signs that showed he was with sparklings.

‘They won’t miss me..they were just following basic instincts,’ he reasoned with himself, spark and helm hurting at the thought. ‘It’s a good thing,’ he mused with a churning tank, ‘now I won’t have to worry about them telling the two.’

He felt a chill run down his spinal cord making his servos rub at his middle, the soft surface was still flat but the muscle he’d long sculpted there was gone. Another sign of his carrying clear as day that he hoped neither his team nor the two decepticons noticed. If Ravage and Frenzy could sense the sparklings within him from their more primal instincts it was only a matter of time before the two mechs began to notice.

Bee truly hoped neither cassettes told of his being sparked.

‘Just have to make it out of here,’ he thought to himself, rubbing the spot that housed not only his spark but two more he’d already decided to protect with his.

As he walked out of the city limits that nights and headed for a new destination away from the autobots and decepticons, he missed the warp gate opening to his last known spark location. Two large mechs scanning the area as Frenzy took to the skies with Soundwave following in pursuit and Ravage sniffing out the scent of the little autobot. Taking off with Shockwave following closely, both silent mechs held an air of promise with the intent to permanently offline the bot they believed took their future mate.

-

I love this pairing - all three togethe and the pairing shockwave and soundwave.

Gonna write about shockwave/blitzwing/bumblebee next or just shockbee angst next 👀

#transformers bumblebee #bumblebee #shockwave #soundwave #wavewave #shockbee #soundbee #shockwave transformers #soundwave transformers #bumblebee headcanons #transformer prime #transformers headcanons #transformers beast wars #transformers animated #transformers #transformers cybertron #transformers fanart #transformers angst #bumblebee angst #mech preg #mpreg #sparked #sparkling

[slut4fictionalmen33]

Don’t Leave (gally)

Summary: Y/n goes with the rest of the boys and Gally begs her to stay

Warnings: language, angst, violence, Gally’s “death” tmr spoilers

Word count: 1.8k

This morning you woke up bright and early to a familiar sound of yelling. A meeting was being held downstairs about escaping this hell hole.

“We can’t leave!” Gally yelled. “I was stung. The world is not good out there. And most of all we have to keep Y/n safe.” He pointed to his room which held you at the moment.

“Gally I know you’re frustrated bu-…”

“I am not letting Y/n out there. Even if my life depends on it.” Gally stomped up the stairs to your shared room.

He caught you listening into the conversation and he knew he had to say something.

“Y/n they found a way out.”

“I heard. Why don’t you want to go?” You crossed your arms. “Why don’t you want to be free?”

“Y/n… I want to be free. I do. But you haven’t seen the outside world. The Flare. The Scorch.”

“But what if it’s not all bad? What if there’s a place out there we can all make it to safely?”

“I won’t let you go.” He said sternly.

“Fuck you!” You yelled stomping out of the room and down to breakfast.

~

“Gally wants you to meet him in the homestead.” One of the builders said. “He said it was urgent.”

“Okay thank you.” You patted his shoulder before walking off toward the homestead.

“Gally!” You called out.

“Up here!” He called from your room.

Once you got up there Gally was sitting on the bed fiddling with one of the bracelets you had made him when you first started dating.

“Gally?”

“Y/n. I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have been a shuck face. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Look Y/n.” Gally grabbed your hands in his and sat down on the edge of the bed in front of you. “I can’t have you go out there without me.”

“Then come with us!” You yelled, letting go of his hands. “Come with us.” You repeated crying softly.

“Oh baby, don't cry please.” He stood up wiping your tears.

“How am I not supposed to cry when you rip my heart into two pieces!”

“No… no I didn’t. I love you.” He begged.

“Gally I think this is over.”

“No Y/n please.” He pleaded, grabbing at your arm.

“We’re done.” You said coldly, rushing out of the room.

~

A week after you and Gallys breakup it was finally the day you got to leave this maze.

Everyone was getting whatever important items they had claimed over their time in the maze and packing for the journey.

You had already lost so many people and many had only agreed to leave to get away from the past.

Thomas had a plan to keep Gally distracted and hopefully get him to come with you. So when it was time the plan fell right into place.

A couple builders under Gallys orders dragged Thomas’ lifeless body across the glade, dropping him at the base of the pole. All the while Teresa thrashed trying to get out of the boys hold.

“This is stupid!” and “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Were the only things falling from her mouth continuously.

“Tie him up.” Gally ordered calmly but when the boys did not comply the first time he snapped. “Did you not hear me? Tie him up.” He ordered again.

The two boys picked him up and the plan went into action. Thomas elbowed the boys in the groin while Minho cut Teresa loose and You and Newt made sure the boys didn’t try anything.

Gally spun around in a circle trying to comprehend what just went down around him.

“This is your last chance to stay here or come with us.” Thomas looked at Gally but implied it to everyone.

“Gally, I think I'm with them.” Winston spoke up.

“Me too.” A few more boys started walking over to group with us.

‘Please’ You mouthed as he looked you directly in the eyes.

“Good luck.” Gally said before walking through our crowd.

“Alright let’s go.” Thomas murmured, running into the maze.

You were frozen. With fear. With sadness. With all of it. You couldn’t believe Gally wanted to stay there. You felt like breaking down and crying but before the tears could even form in your eyes you were being ushered by Newt into the maze.

The run was long and consecutive, rounding corners every few feet just to see another ivy covered wall.

Eventually you reached the blades. Which were steel plates that stretched the whole length of the maze walls.

~

You reached the griever hole, Thomas poking his head past the wall to get a good look. He quickly swiveled, back flush against the wall.

“Is there a griever?” Chuck asked, squeezing your hand. Thomas nodded, swallowing hard.

“Chuck, I need you to stay back with Y/n and Teresa. Everyone else… Do you trust me?”

A series of nods went around and Thomas started charging toward the exit. He screamed when he came in contact with the first griever fighting him off with his spear.

Suddenly a door that was invisible to the rest of the boys opened. “Thomas?!” You yelled walking through. “There’s a code.”

A code? Code! He thought. “Minho, what's the sequence of the maze?”

“What?!” Minho yelled, fighting off a particularly strong griever.

“The sequence to the maze!” Thomas yelled again.

“7…1…5…2…uh 6…4…” He was cut off by a griever falling right on top of him from the sky.

Minho struggled until Jeff gained the courage to jump on top of the culprit stabbing it with his weapon.

Minho escaped from under it but now Jeff was a victim. The griever thrashed as it started eating Jeff’s legs until the others started climbing in front of it.

“Jeff!” Winston yelled as Frypan dragged him backwards.

“Minho what’s the rest!” You yelled.

“uh… 6, 4, 3, 8.” He yelled stabbing at the grievers.

The walls above them started to close, crushing them instantly as you and the rest of the gladers got sucked into darkness.

~

You woke up in a hallway with a door labeled “EXIT”.

“Really?” Frypan said sarcastically, pulling the door open for everyone.

There were bodies everywhere, none of them alive. Many of them shot. Some were stabbed.

“What the hell?” You gasped stepping over the puddle of blood.

“They were watching us.” Newt said, walking over to a computer that showed various segments of the glade. But one thing that didn’t seem right was that Gally wasn't there.

Thomas watched for a minute then stared at the flashing red button under him before pressing it. A hologram popped up on where the glass used to be. An older lady with her hair tied back and bright red lipstick on.

“Hello, my name is Dr Ava Paige. I’m director of operations at the World Catastrophe Killzone Department. If you’re watching this it means you’ve successfully completed the maze trials. I wish I could be there in person to congratulate you but circumstances seem to have prevented it.”

Everyone stared as this woman you had never seen spoke to you about some three years of your life and how it had all been a trial.

“I’m sure by now you must all be very confused… angry…frightened. I can only assure you that everything that’s happened to you… everything we’ve done to you. It was all done for a reason. You won’t remember but the sun has scorched our world.” You stood there in shock once again. Gally was right and now there was nothing you could do.

“Billions of lives lost to fire… famine… suffering on a global scale. The fallout was unimaginable. What came after was worse. We called it the flare.” And a viewing of a flare victim was shown on the screen. He was violent, black goo dripping down his face, thrashing under the nurses hold.

“A deadly virus that attacks the brain. It is violent. Unpredictable. Incurable. Or so we thought. In time a new generation emerged that could survive the virus, suddenly there was a reason to hope for a cure. But finding it would not be easy.” Chuck looked at you strangely for your teary eyes. You had pieced this puzzle together.

“The young have to be tested, even sacrificed inside harsh environments where their brain activity could be studied. All in an effort to understand what makes them different, what makes you different. You may not realize it but you’re very important. Unfortunately, your trials have only just begun. As you’ll no doubt soon discover not everyone agrees with our methods. Progress is slow, people are scared. It may be too late for us, for me, but not for you. The outside world awaits. Remember WCKD is good.” She said right before grabbing her gun and killing herself right in front of a bunch of teenagers. As if everything she had done wasn’t enough.

Most of everyone looked away, a few so hooked they couldn’t look away that was until a familiar voice caught your ear.

“We can’t leave.” Gally said, gun in his shaky hand.

“Gally?” You questioned stepping towards him. “Gally what’s wrong with you?”

“We can’t leave.” He repeated raising the gun.

“Gally no.” You put your hands out.

“Get out of the way Y/n.” He ordered, aiming the gun at Thomas.

“We belong to the maze.” He said pulling the trigger. Chuck jumped in front of Thomas shielding him from death while Minho threw his spear across the room and right into Gallys chest. He fell to the floor gasping for air. Short breaths in. Short breaths out.

You stood there shaking, turning between Gally and your friends. You ran over to Gally and fell to your knees in front of his body.

“Gally please. Don’t leave. I don’t hate you. I love you. I hurt you. I'm sorry. I-…”

“Y/n I-I l-love y-you.” He choked out reaching up to caress your cheek.

“I love you too, I need you to stay with me.” You grabbed his hand. You bathed in the affection until Newt and Minho had to pull you off of him.

“No! We can’t leave him! I won’t leave him!” You thrashed as they carried you to the helicopter.

“Y/n he’s dead.” Winston broke the news to you.

“No he’s not you dumb shuck! He was alive when you carried me out! He’s alive.” They placed you in the helicopter. “I have to get him.” You told Newt.

“I know love. You’ll meet him again.” He caressed your head similarly to how Gally would after a long day.

You cried into his chest until you fell asleep on him. Falling deep into slumber dreaming about your dead boyfriend.

#the maze runner #gally one shot #gally maze runner #gally #gally imagine #gally x y/n #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally angst #will poulter

[nonsensical-pixels]

THE LINDASIMS2 RESEARCH AND EXPERIMENTATION: PART SIX

Today, it's finally here, and with proper grammar and punctuation (hopefully!), as my 200th post. The proof that only @lindasims2 could've destroyed her own content.

As a bloody April Fool's joke.

And we've all been blind to it for years and years and years.

With the help of @fireflowersims, @bstu, my buddies Yolkema and Zeta_Reticuli on the Simscord, @honeymoonseason, and many other lovely folks who are also tired of Linda and her followers' BS, we finally got proof that only LINDA, ONLY LINDA, could've destroyed those files we got.

Keep reading, it's a long one, but I promise it's worth it.

THE REASON FOR THE POLYCOUNT

Firstly, I returned to my roots: the March 2021 set. I wanted to see what else I’d missed. Now, when I loaded up a specific pair of leggings Linda made, I finally understood why the polycount is so high.

If you zoom in closely, you can clearly see that each subset is duplicated multiple times. At first I thought that was normal, until I realised that it's all identical. And uh, that's not normal!

Now, what did Linda herself say? That she has experience in… clothing?

Yeah, I’m pretty sure you'd be able to do this, Linda. With your eyes closed.

THE JPG IMAGES

For awhile I wondered why this particular image was thrown in so randomly into not just this file, but almost every file in the March 2021 dump. But thanks to Linda’s providing that lovely VK link on her callout post against NoMoreSims2Patreon, I finally know the only person in this that had any ‘sentimentality’ regarding Mr Junior over here. (Yes, it’s not actually McQueen, which makes it all the more specific! I love it!)

This was posted just 1 day after that lovely March 2021 dump finally released, on 1st April. No coincidence, I bet, that this Junior is being sent by the lovely lindasims2 herself! Photo provided by @honeymoonseason and also shared to me by multiple others :]

Yeah, Linda, what do you have to say to this…? Your favourite fake Lightning McQueen has finally exposed who actually placed him in this file, and only because you were kind enough to link us to your VK group <3

THE DATES

So, after this pretty incriminating discovery, I decided to backtrack and take a look at what Linda claimed in her callout post to NoMoreSims2Patreon:

These files were apparently last edited on March 28, many days after Linda made a post announcing them. Which points to the leaker being the one to edit them, right?

Well…Linda, did you forget how you operate or something?

Linda uploaded these files on April 1st 2021, having ‘forgotten’ to upload them on March 31st. Credits go to @caramelsmiles12 and @honeymoonseason for the pics <3 Yeah, Linda, thanks for admitting your own guilt?

It’s impossible for any leaker to be able to edit files before they’re even released. To my understanding, Linda purposefully added those corrupt characters and NSFW defaults to her CC, as a sick April Fool’s prank on the people who download her leaked CC.

All of the files you see above, have had the hidden sim, PT 19 (also renamed some very bad slurs by Linda) slipped in. (Though #332 has been accidentally saved by me, lol). The top-only teen-elder male folder also contains the weird gigantoborkodoggo default. And they were all last edited a day before Linda even released the files to her subscribers.

THE EXPERIMENTS

@fireflowersims was kind enough to do some experiments with the corrupted files, to see what else we could find, as well as to dig deeper in them. I won’t state all of them here, but here are a few that stood out to me:

THE LOGIC

I can already hear Linda’s hardcore defendersand subscribers in my askbox (like @alicestrife and @sims2x10 <3) claiming that the pics have been edited, that somehow I have changed the story, etc. I have done nothing except look at the facts I have dug up or been shown. If you want proof, look at this post, it contains some stuff that may interest you and was found over a year ago. As well as the original files :]

I can already see that not being enough for some of you, so here’s the logic even if you don’t take the incriminating Junior (yeah, the fake Lightning McQueen) JPG, or the fact that the files were edited pre-release, into account.

Let’s look at the pros and cons to corrupting these files, for both Linda and her leakers.

PROS FOR LINDA: Gets to ‘expose’ the leaker that has been a thorn in her side all this time. Gets to prank the clueless people who download from her for April Fool’s. Gets more subscribers since people are desperate for ‘good’ content from her.

CONS FOR LINDA: Some people may accuse her, but of course, she always points them to her leakers. Because who else gets direct content from her? Only her hardcore patrons, who won’t turn against her.

PROS FOR LEAKERS: Uhh… maybe gets a kick out of seeing people get mad at Linda?

CONS FOR LEAKERS: People no longer trust them. They won’t download their content, which is how pirates survive in this community. Attitudes towards pirates have always been terrible in this community, especially from the paywallers themselves. Also, people will probably accuse them since they are the people who reupload CC.

Who do you think would have corrupted these files, even without the evidence shown above?

SUMMARY

Stolen meshes, illegally paywalled content, etc. was never enough for Lindasims2, clearly. No, she had one thorn in her side that she wanted to get rid of: NoMoreSims2Patreon, who continually shared her files FOR FREE to the public and meant she made much, much less money.

So, for one final April Fool’s joke of leaked content, she slipped in a very large, very corrupted surprise for anyone who downloaded from her leaker–and sat back and waited. A year later, @dystopianam stumbled across that hidden surprise and on spiraled this saga of discoveries by myself and many others.

However, Linda made a couple of mistakes. She assumed people would look at her response post and think, oh, surely it’s the leaker! Linda’s dates match up!

But thanks to Dale Earnhardt Jr. himself, a bunch of Simscorders and many others decided to research further. And found her lie. Thanks for having such love for a minor Cars 1 character, Linda!

I urge everyone to do their best to report Linda’s Tumblr account, Boosty, Patreon, etc. What she has done ON PURPOSE to destroy people’s games and frame others is NO JOKE. I am not sure if we can take legal action against this sort of ‘malware’ that she produced many years ago, but I know one thing.

A minimum of 2278 simmers have downloaded the reuploaded archive containing Linda’s special April Fool’s 2021 joke. 2278, not counting anyone who might’ve been shared these files through other links, downloaded them from friends, etc. 

CHECK YOUR GAMES, guys! And for the love of all things holy, STOP SUPPORTING SIMS PAYWALLERS! ESPECIALLY THIEVES LIKE LINDA!

#lindasims2 #s2cc #sims 2 cc #ts2 cc #important info #the lindasims research and experimentation #how do u tag these sorts of posts #sims 2 research #sims 2 alert #lindasims #fuck you linda #you can say what you want about the results of my research #but the root issue is YOU #YOU paywalled the content. you deal with the people whose games are fucked because of YOUR money-hungryness

[doll-elvis]

Hi! First of all, I love ur blog it’s one of my favourites and I really appreciate your nuanced takes and the research you put in to your answers. :)

I wanted to ask you — I read today that EPE didn’t allow Sofia Coppola to use any of Elvis’ music in her movie. I figured he wouldn’t be depicted very positively in it but I kinda hoped it would be a realistic and human depiction of both of them, not like sort of a condemning ‘he’s the villain of their story’ vibe lol. I guess we still won’t know until it comes out… Anyway it got me feeling like perhaps the depiction will be more negative, but maybe EPE just didn’t consent to his music being used because they weren’t included in the movie. Hard to know. Wanted to ask for your thoughts/take on it.

Also, what do you think Lisa would think about this movie being made?

this just made my day 😭, you are the sweetest <3!! I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to show your appreciation, it truly means the world to me that you get something positive out of my posts

also thank you very much for the ask, I really love to be able to have open discussions on here with fellow Elvis fans, especially regarding all the recent events that are taking place 🤧

as for your question, according to the latest interview with Sofia Coppola and Priscilla Presley, it was “Authentic Brands Group” (who owns 85% of EPE) that denied the request to have Elvis’ music featured in the film. As Sofia tells it, it was because ABG only endorse projects that they have originated as they are protective of their brand ⬇️

(quote from the “Hollywood Reporter”)

so I don’t think Elvis’ music not being in the film is indicative of how he will be portrayed, the decision seems more business based than anything else (hopefully 😭). I’m also wondering if this was a funding issue as this film doesn’t seem to have had the biggest budget (they only had 30 days to shoot) and I would assume the rights to use Elvis’ music would be rather costly 👀

as for how Elvis will be depicted… I think I speak for many other fans when I say when this movie was first announced my heart sank 🤧 the 2022 film accomplished so many amazing things for Elvis and his legacy and I think we all felt like this Priscilla movie would jeopardize that. But this recent interview with Priscilla, along with the film’s official synopsis, has given me more hope that this movie will be more nuanced

Priscilla telling Cailee Spaeny, the actress portraying her, to be sensitive towards Elvis honestly made me breathe a sigh of relief 😩

(quote from the “Hollywood Reporter”)

But I think the reason so many fans are still currently dreading this film and biting their nails over the release of it is because of the reception it has received online… particularly by non-Elvis fans

if you have Instagram or Twitter (especially) you know what I mean 😭

people are literally praising Sofia Coppola (even Priscilla) because they think this film is going to be a hit piece against Elvis and will expose how he “groomed” and “abused” her

I can almost guarantee these people and anyone else who have made similar comments have never even read Priscilla’s book, or have ever read about Elvis besides what they see on social media through things like twitter threads on how he was a “predator” or how he “stole” music from black musicians

their dedication to believing whatever they see written about him just proves their ignorance to me. If they haven’t taken the time to research the claims made about him then I just disregard their opinion🤧 I’ve really struggled with disengaging from people who hate Elvis but I’ve begun to learn that nothing we say as fans will change their opinion of him, and no matter what they say, it cannot change who we know he really was

and whenever I do see these people reference Priscilla’s book I’m like… did we read the same book? did y’all not see how 90-95% percent of that book praised who Elvis was? and do y’all not see how Priscilla still defends his actions to this day and says things like “he was the love of my life”? I’m just confused as to why these people think Priscilla wants Elvis to be “exposed” 😭

and like the majority of people who have written about Elvis, Priscilla’s book has the good, the bad, and the ugly, and I expect the film to be that way as well. However, I hope the good completely outweighs “the bad” and “the ugly” just as much as it did in Priscilla’s book

People always hyper-inflate the “bad” stories (of which there are very few) that are mentioned in Priscilla’s book. For example the story where when they were pillow fighting he accidentally gave her a black eye, which is also referenced now as proof that he “abused” her. But they won’t mention how Elvis profusely apologized and felt incredibly guilty, nor do they mention how Priscilla blamed the pills they were taking for Elvis’ temper in that moment, as opposed to Elvis himself

(excerpt from “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley)

I feel like a lot of anger has been misdirected towards Priscilla lately regarding stories like this but in all honesty you cannot blame her for people taking what she wrote out of context. I’ve seen some fans say that she is only out to make Elvis look bad but she very clearly states he was remorseful for the incident

Like I mentioned above, I think 90-95% of her book puts Elvis in a good light, and shows how truly good his character was

One of my personal favorite stories is the lasagna incident, where Priscilla insisted on cooking for the whole group and in her nerves for proving that she could do such a thing, she forgot to boil the noodles before assembling the dish 💀

and this story is just one out of dozens that show how sensitive Elvis was to Priscilla

(excerpt from “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley)

not to mention the very last paragraph of her book where she has nothing but good things to say about him… yet people who hate Elvis think this film, that is based on her book, will be out to “expose” him 😩?

(excerpt from “Elvis and Me” by Priscilla Presley)

obviously we can only really speculate on what the film will be like but I’m just hoping and praying this film will be a massive disappointment to anyone who is thinking it will affirm their opinions about how Elvis “mistreated” Priscilla… that would heal my soul 😩 like if this film is just a total love letter to Elvis I will be laughing my way out of the theater lmaoo

at this point the only reason I’m not excited about this film is just because I don’t think it was done in a way that would reach it’s full potential. That recent review of it that came out of Reddit was kind of what I expected the film to be (lackluster, lacking depth and Jacob not really capturing Elvis’ essence… Coppola’s reasoning for casting Jacob was that since all the females in the audition room were enamored by him he must have had a similar charisma to Elvis but I just do not get that vibe😭 (no offense to Jacob stans)

as for what Lisa Marie would have thought of this film being made, I’d imagine she would act in a similar way to how Riley is. Supportive but not involved perhaps? This film is really Priscilla’s story. Not Elvis’ story, not Lisa Marie’s story etc. etc. so I don’t expect as many people in the Elvis world to be involved with it as they were with the 2022 film. Like I don’t expect to see Jerry Schilling doing interviews for this movie or girlfriend’s/friends of Elvis to give their review of it

I really really wish Lisa Marie was here, I miss her terribly and I still haven’t fully processed her passing, but I believe that Riley is doing everything her mother would have wanted, and I wish the best for her and her sisters 💗

#thank you 💗 #what do y’all think about everything going on recently #Twitter has just been a dumpster fire for Elvis fans lately #everytime I see ‘Priscilla’ trending I get a migraine 😭 #also I really hope a 2-3 minute trailer drops for this movie #that teaser gave absolutely nothing #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #priscilla presley #Priscilla movie #sofia coppola #Priscilla 2023 #elvis asks #elvis fans

[sunny-speaks]

Hello ! I've read your fanfiction about a 14dwy academical rivals to lovers AU. I loved it... and know I'm obssessed. Could you please give us more headcanons ?

Academic Rivals! [REDACTED] x Reader Headcanons

Ahhh! This is my first ask and I am more than glad to answer! I am so sorry I took so long responding,,, but I do hope you enjoy!

Characters: [REDACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

(also to @14dayswithyou you can make as many additions as you want to this au, anyone can! a tag or two would be cool,,, but I don't mind not being tagged! i just can't believe i'm the first to write academic rivals-- but ill gladly claim the au!!)

So… [REDACTED], huh? Out of all the people at your post-secondary education institute, you chose the asshat fuckboi?

…Not a bad choice.

What, you falling for him because despite that hugeass brain (and his even bigger dick), he doesn’t make you feel like you’re dumb or inferior to him?

What, you like the fact that he treats you with borderline reverence on the inside yet willingly chooses to joke around and banter with you because it’s attention nonetheless?

What, you like the fact that he’s crazy dedicated to you and would never cheat (unlike a certain *cough* Teodore *cough*) on you?

What, you falling for him because deep down he is crazy, down bad for you and just wants you to want him as much as he wants you?

Well, you’re in for a ride if you even muttered a ‘...sure’ to any of those questions, because boy… does [REDACTED] deliver.

So maybe you say you hate him, but do you really?

Would your gaze drop from his eyes to other places on him and back up to him if you detested him as much as you say?

Would you continue bantering and teasing him like you do if you really wished he were dead?

Mmm, nah. He didn’t think so.

He knows you well enough to know you don’t actually hate him. You just rather think you hate him.

Oh, you loved the tension that came with rivalry, didn’t you?

Don’t worry, as long as you did, he did too. &lt;3

He may have gone to therapy for some of his family issues or deep rooted self-esteem issues, but that won’t change anything in the way he loves you.

He loves you sooo much, and he knows how smart you are as a person and believes in you so much… But he can’t help but worry!

He promised he’d leave his life of lies behind… but until you’re safe, he can’t stop what he’s started…

So, yes. He will ‘obsessively’ love you. But it would be less… ‘secretly following you in real life’ and more ‘just checking through the cameras.’

Something that hopefully you wouldn’t be aware of any time soon.

After all, you had a real communicative relationship with him now!

Why would he jeopardize that?

Better yet, if you ever feel unsafe from other stalkers, you could always stop by his place. He’s probably stronger than you if you want someone intimidating around to scare off the creeps!

“Hey, [REDACTED]?” You hesitantly asked, god, this was embarrassing… But he was the only person that you could go to that would hopefully not ask too many questions about your request.

You hated his guts, but at the end of the day, if you had to admit it (to yourself, never to him, God forbid), [REDACTED] was a dependable guy. And he seemed to respect you at times…

So that meant he was one of the people you trusted.

“Yeah, angel? Do you want some help with tutoring? Y’know, cause I’m sooo smart?” He made some offhanded comments with a snarky tone as he gathered his items into his bag before seeing you were serious. His grin fell. “Ah, sorry. …What is it?”

“Well- Uh— I-” You stammered, regret flashing through your face. Did you really have to ask him…?

No.

It was a problem, hopefully they’d help you out.

No matter how rude or condescending he acted, [REDACTED] was a good person nonetheless. He does realize that there are days you’re not up to bantering with him and leaves you alone… And days where he makes sure you’re not sick under the guise of it not being a fair fight.

Well, they wouldn’t like all this hesitation…

Better to be blunt about it. “I think I have a stalker.”

His face immediately fell to concern, “Shit. You’re sure?” He quickly shoved everything into his bag before swinging it over his shoulder as you gave him a brusque nod. He hesitantly hovered his hand over your shoulder, giving you a worried look, ��That must be horrifying.”

[REDACTED]’s lip furled into a disgusted frown just thinking about the assholes out there who had even dared to scare you a bit. It was none of their goddamn business to stare, even breathe the same air, as his angel.

The fact that they had the gall to follow you around? Atrocious.

You let out a stuttered breath, body tensing at the adjective he had used. It was horrifying. You didn’t know where this stalker had come from… All you had known was that there was supposedly a creep on the loose and you didn’t need any sort of pervert interested in you… “I d-don’t need your concern, dumbass.” You gave him a quick, approving tilt of your head, letting him rest his hand on your shoulder, contrary to what you had huffed under your breath.

Something about the warmth of someone else grounded you, tethered you back to the world. It was a lot nicer than that paranoid feeling you’d been carrying with you lately. You hadn’t seen anyone you were close to, not wanting to bother them…

But with [REDACTED], it just felt… easier? You weren’t quite sure.

“I was just… y’know wondering if you might… wanna have me over for a couple days?” You awkwardly chuckled, maybe this was too much to ask of him… How could you phrase this so you didn’t seem too vulnerable…? Especially in front of your jerk rival. “I know you might not handle my presence with you for so long, you might even combust from being so close to me… My apartment just doesn’t feel… too safe right now.”

His face immediately softened, eyebrows unfurling from worry to concern and comforting features made their way to his face. He gave you a small smile, “Angel, you can drop by anytime you want. I don’t have experience with…creeps like that.” His mouth curled into a snarl, but immediately was washed over with a kind smile, “But if you feel more secure with someone like me around, then I’m more than glad too.” He paused, a smirk making its way to his face, “But I hope you aren’t doing this to scope out your competition. Wouldn’t be trying to find a flaw of mine, now are ya?”

Your body relaxed, as you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Before you heard his last quip at least.

You let out an annoyed and flabbergasted noise at his quip before rolling your eyes, “Oh? You’d be so flattered, wouldn’t you, [REDACTED]? I don’t even need to scope you out to beat you…!” You stopped before sighing, “But… Thanks for letting me stay at your place, I guess. I’ll need to pick up some of my shit at home before we go, that alright with you… 2nd place?” You jeered at the insult. After all, what were the two of you if not competitors for the highest mark in the class?

Friends? You scoffed at the notion fondly, if he were to ask, you wouldn’t say no.

But that was for you to know, and for him to never discover.

He softly smiled to himself, more than glad to see you back to your nature before looking down at you than winking, “Won’t be 2nd for too long, angel.”

You stared at him, beckoning him with you on your way out of the class, “Gonna walk me to the car? Can’t hurt to have people gape out my intellect without you there to rub it in. We both know I’m better anyway.”

He let out a series of breathless chuckles, “That’s my considerate rival now, always putting my needs above yours… I’m honored.”

“Good. C’mon now, [REDACTED].”

The two of you end up teasing each other, hurling insults, bickering and a bit of everything in almost every conversation.

It’s in your nature to be naturally competitive for some reason.

Maybe [REDACTED] just enjoys seeing how frustrated or worked up you get… It is kind of adorable.

The same goes for him too though…

You roll your eyes at him, a small scoff making it through your voice, “You beat me once. Don’t let it go to your head.”

He gave you a taunting grin, his eyes squinted, light blue twinkling with mischief. “Why? Are you jealous, angel?”

“What-” You made a sound of disbelief. He was acting like a child! “Wipe that stupid grin off your face, idiot! So you beat me by a couple points-”

“And you flaunt it when you beat me by even less…” He mumbled loud enough to himself that you could barely pick up on it.

“Hey! It’s different and you know it!” You huffed at him, “Whatever. Just… stop grinning like that, you look stupid.”

He shrugged his shoulders, a triumphant, lazy grin splayed on his features, “Make me.”

Your eye twitched at his threat. Ohhh, that punk did not just― You flexed your fingers as if that would calm you.

Of course, he had to beat you by a couple of points this one time… It was such a dumb project! You hissed at him under your breath, seeing that stupidly cocky grin on his face.

Why’d you have that dumb main character with little to no trauma, while he got the side character that hides all their insecurities but ends up projecting onto their kids?!

Unfair. That teacher was totally biased.

Giving [REDACTED] more work to analyze… making his grade go up from the research… Hrrr, so biased. So unfair.

He gave you a slitted-eye smile as if to mock your frustration. You grumbled in envy before glaring at him. You grab him by the collar, tough enough to pull him towards you but gentle enough for him to break out by choice, “You wish. What’s it take to shut that stupidly pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

Your eyes flickered between his widened, shocked blue eyes to those soft, kissable lips of his.

You did not like where this was going…

Or maybe you did.

You weren’t too sure, emotions get muddled easily… Love and hate have a fine line after all.

…So do fear and arou-

Nope! 

No way!

Those are not very ‘pure’ thoughts!

You pulled him closer to you by his shirt collar and tilted your head, “Maybe a kiss from a resident angel?” You practically snorted at the remark of that condescending nickname he used for you.

[REDACTED] stared at you, too stunned to speak as you huffed with pride, quickly letting go. You smirked, turning around after winking at him, shit-faced grin all on display, “Clearly, that worked.”

With no one in the class anymore, [REDACTED] was left by himself. Their jaw went slack for a bit before mumbling into his hand as you were far away, furious blush spreading through their cheeks.

“…Was that a promise?”

#14 days with you #ren 14dwy #ren x reader #yandere #visual novel #ren 14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy ren #🧨headcanons #🌟small fic

[certainmaybe]

The worst patient

Assistant should be used to hospitals by now. After all, most of their job came down to managing the teams hospital appointments. Of course they had other duties as well, from taxes to taking out the trash, there were a lot of things that didn’t fall into anybodies job description and ended up on Assistants plate. Not that it was written in their job description, but since nobody actually knew what their job was Assistant didn’t protest. As long as they had nobody monitoring their work and they could write their own paychecks they were happy with what they did. And most of it was arguing with grown adults about having to take the meds and stay in bed, even if they claimed they felt better. It was annoying, but the soft, gentle sort of annoying that made you feel important.

There had only been one time so far where Assistant had hated the hospital, and that was when Leader had gotten hurt. While the others turned into whiny babies or were simply irresponsible Leader was furious. Of course they hadn’t actually been angry with Assistant. They had been angry at them self, always so careful and responsible, because they couldn’t afford to get sick. After all, the people needed them. But it had been Assistant who stood between them and the door, who called the nurses and refused to let them get away, and so it had been Assistant that Leader screamed at. Leader could barely look them in the eye now, and Assistant was still hurt from all the things Leader had said to them, but both of them had always been professional.

So to summarize, Assistant should have been used to hospitals by now. And they were, as a guest. As a patient, apparently, they were terrified.

They were still angry at themselves for letting it happen. They knew, better than anyone, not to touch things they didn’t know, not in the base, not with Scientist being the way they were. Of all the teams hospital stays at least a third was related to something dangerous being left lying around. And still Assistant had picked up the crumpled up piece of paper, intending to throw it in the trash, only to find that a strange alien infection had entered their system.

To their credit, they had been very professional about it. They had discarded the paper, assessed the damage, realized it was spreading. They had called in sick, called the hospital and even made sure the teams affairs were handled so far that they could work without Assistant for a few days. Hopefully it would only be a few days before Assistant could at least do remote work.

you still need to put down an emergency contact

“What?” To their great embarrassment, Assistant had been too scared to pay attention to the nurses explanation.

“An emergency contact? I hate to say it, but the surgery is risky. We have no idea what exactly is happening to your body and it is sadly not unlikely that you won’t wake up. I'm sure there is somebody who would want to know?”

“Leader,” Assistant said without thinking. If Assistant died, they would need to hire a replacement fast. But there should be somebody else, telling them, not the hospital. That wasn’t the kind of relationship they had. Assistant had set up an automated message, in case they didn’t make it.

Subject: Resignation

Cause: Death

“Okay, I put them down, anything else I can do for you?”

“No, no, I don’t…” Assistant searched their mind for some other name to give the nurse, but the plan in a situation like this had been to hire a nurse to take care of them during recovery. Sadly, this had been on to short notice and Assistants inquiries had not been answered so far. They were hoping that once they were ready to get released from the hospital they would find somebody.

“Okay then. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

It wasn’t shortly. It took ages. Terrible, horrible ages during which Assitant thought abut all the things that could happen. They could die, of course, but there were so many things worse than dying. They could wake up. They could wake up sick and hurt, damaged to a point of no repair, alive just enough to know they would be better of dead. They could wake up to a slow, painful recovery, the kind they knew deep down they couldn’t manage alone. They could end up sick and hurt and dying and knowing that it was all their own fault for not being strong enough. They could end up forever alone, because they wouldn’t have anything to give, and what were they but the sum of the services they could provide.

And then the doctor came and started the anesthesia. Assistant was told to count back from ten.

Ten. They didn’t want to be here.

Nine. What if this was the end?

Eight. Why hadn’t they told anybody?

Seven. Would their team even care?

Six. They had written their will, but would anybody even look for it?

Five. If they woke up again, what were they supposed to do?

Four. Assistant had always called a nurse, just to make sure everything was all right.

Three. But what if Assistant woke up to sick to call somebody?

Two. What if they woke up and nobody cared?

One. Would anybody get them something to drink?

There was an annoying beeping sound. A metallic taste in Assistants mouth. They were, in some capacity, alive. They felt nothing but exhaustion at the thought.

They should try to open their eyes. Figure out if there was enough of them self left to call for the nurse. What was the plan for recovery, if there was one. Which medications, what therapies, which additional procedures that would all come with their own recovery plans. There was no use putting it off, if Assitant ever wanted to be healthy again they couldn’t slack off now. They had no time to wallow in their misery now.

Still, just for a moment, Assistant let their eyes stay closed. They reached for the slowly fading fog, pretended just for a moment that the hard part was over. Then they started blinking into the blinding light of the hospital.

The room was familiar at least. The same to bright lamps, of white walls, horrible flower painting, uncomfortable chair. Disinfectant and stale coffee. Assistant tried to shift towards the call button and groaned in pain.

There was the distinct sound of a person falling out of a chair and scrambling to their feet.

“Assistant? They are awake! Somebody get here, they are waking up!” The voice was to sudden, to loud for Assistant to remember it. It had to be familiar, why else would they know their name.

Things were happening much too fast for Assistants still numbed mind to register. All they knew was that soon a doctor was shining a even brighter light in their face.

“I am just checking that your brain functions properly.” They explained. The words had a meaning, though Assistant had a hard time connecting it. “Okay, everything seems to be looking good so far.” Oh, yes, brain function. That was a thing Assistant wanted to keep. Especially if their body might not ever funktion the same again. They wanted to ask.

“I-” Their throat was so dry it was almost on fire.

“Here,” said the familiar voice, and a straw was pushed towards their mouth. Assistant drank. It was possibly the best water they had ever had.

“How am I?” They got out.

“Well, I won’t lie, right now you are not in good shape. But we did manage to get the infection out. Once your body has recovered from this surgery we will start the process of repairing the damage. I won’t lie, you have a lot of hard work in front of you, but from where we are now I see a full recovery as very likely.”

“Great.” Assistant felt sick.

“It’s going to be alright,” said the familiar voice. It belonged to a silhouette, hardly visible against the blinding light of the window. “All you need right now is to rest.”

“I will let you two alone now,” said the doctor. “Call if you need anything.” The words weren’t said to Assistant, but to the other person.

“Thank you, doctor,” said that familiar voice. And suddenly it wasn’t just any familiar voice.

“Leader?” Assistant managed to get out. With the doctor gone Assistant could finally focus on the person standing in front of them. On Leader, looking like they had been to hell and back.

“You couldn’t have told me before?” Leader asked hoarsely, pulling the uncomfortable chair close. 

“I had an email set up.”

“Assistant, I- I suppose it’s all I deserve.” Leader made a motion as if wiping tears away. “Is there anything I can get you? More water, another blanked, a pillow? Do you need- are you in pain? I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to do this.”

“It’s fine,” Assistant managed to get out.

“Okay. Just tell me if you need anything. Promise me, please.”

“Why are you here?” Assistant asked instead. Leader set out a sigh so full of despair that Assistants heart almost broke.

“Because the hospital called me. There was a complication during the surgery, and since you put me down as your emergency contact-” And then Leader simply started sobbing. “I’m sorry,” they managed after a moment, wiping their tears away again. “This isn’t about me. There was a complication, but they managed to fix it. But they called me, and I came.”

“You came,” Assistant echoed. 

“Of course I came, Assistant, I mean-” Leader stopped themself. “Do you want me to leave? I understand if that’s… I know we aren’t exactly on good terms. If there is somebody else you would rather have here, just say the word.”

“I don’t.”

“Is it okay if I stay, then?”

“Sure.”

Awkward silence filled the room, the same awkward silence that had filled elevators and meeting rooms.

“Can I-” Leader stopped themself. “I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but, god, please don’t ever do this to me again. If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but you have to talk to somebody. I know you like doing things on your own, but some things you just can’t do alone. And this- I think this is one of those things.”

“I know.” Assistant was getting teary eyed them self. They were exhausted and in pain and still high on medication and their stoic leader was crying in front of them, there was really nothing they could do.

“Then why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“I-” It was the drugs fault what Assistant said next. “What if you hadn’t come?”

“Of course I would have come. Though I suppose I understand why you would have doubted that. But why didn’t you call any of the others then?”

Instead of an answer, Assistant just glared at Leader.

“Okay, I see how that might not have helped the situation.”

“What happens now?”

“It’s mostly up to you, but if I was you, I would get my revenge by being the most difficult patient the world has ever seen.” It was as much a cry as a laugh, but still Assistant had missed hearing Leader laugh.

“I feel like I am off to a good start for that.” And Leader laughed, and Assistant let out a painful chuckle. “I think I will sleep now.”

“Okay. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

#whump #heroes and villains #hurt/comfort #hero #snippet #original story #heroxvillain #assistant #leader #medical whump #sickfic