#yeah i resent hearing almost anyone tell me what *they* think *i* look like. to the point where my mom kinda teases me for it

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🌲 Stuck in a Cabin Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🌲 Snow by Septic_Styles {M, 70k}

The snow was packed high, completely covering the doorway. Louis reached out to touch it but Harry pulled his arm back in.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"It's snow, Harry, not some creature from Mars." Louis rolled his eyes and pressed his index finger to it. It wasn't soft, it was firm and had an almost crunchy texture like the freezing temperature had turned it into ice as the night passed on. It had been sitting there for some time. "Yeah, just as I suspected," Louis said, closing the front door.

"What?"

"We're fucked."

Louis is set to travel thirteen hours up the country to stay with his family at a holiday rental in Edinburgh for Christmas, but when he makes an overnight stop at his cabin in the woods in the Lake District, an unexpected, unlikely face - which Louis has spent all of his teenager and most of his adult years resenting - comes knocking, seeking for help.

Little did they know that the heaviest snowfall England had ever seen would snow the two foes in for a week...

🌲 To the Ends of the Earth by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci {M, 68k}

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

🌲Take on Me by @haztobegood {E, 60k}

Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leadi ng role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?

🌲 Warming Up to You by @youreyesonlarry {E, 56k}

“I feel you,” Harry nods along as he zips his bag open, carefully pulling out his fancy looking camera before pressing a button to turn it on. “I love taking pictures for a number of reasons, but I think the best part of the whole thing is that I’m able to go through my older pictures and have all these memories from those moments come back to me.”

He puts the camera against his eye and points at Louis, and before the shorter one can even react, he hears a ‘click’, and Harry’s smiling down at the screen of his camera.

“And I don't think I want to forget about the day I got stranded in a cabin with a pretty stranger,” he finishes off.

Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.

🌲 Cabin Fever by @germericangirl {E, 46k}

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or: One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

🌲 Snow Job by @duchesskitty16 {E, 42k}

Harry is a world famous rock star who is closeted and never gives interviews. Louis is a failed novelist and reporter for a gossip magazine that has fallen on hard times. Louis is promised a promotion if he can get the ultimate get - an interview with Harry Styles. Louis finds out that Harry has a mountain cabin near where his friends Zayn and Niall live and heads up to try and meet him. In a twist of fate, Louis has an accident and Harry saves him. Will Louis get his story, or will the fact that he's falling in love change things? Will Harry forgive him when he finds out Louis is lying to him? Will Harry find the courage to come out of the closet and finally be happy?

🌲 too much, but it’s enough by @ohpleaselarry {E, 40k}

There are about a thousand things Louis wishes he could go back in time and fix. A thousand things, and nearly all of them include Harry.

There are the more simple things, like showing him more support, telling him it’s okay to be himself, gently reminding him that a condom in his pocket is rather obvious in skinny jeans, but if he could just choose one thing, just one to change, he’d probably just have told the lad he loves him.

Always has. And always will.

🌲 Something As Simple As This by frenchkiss {E, 34k}

Trapped in a cabin in the middle of nowhere after a blizzard derails Louis from getting home, he and the attractive stranger who owns the place have nothing to do but... well, each other. It would be a real shame if feelings got in the way, and even more of a shame if a secret about this stranger's identity turned both their lives upside down and inside out.

🌲 Etched in Salt (is a cathedral of the world) by @helloamhere {E, 24k}

Louis asks for very few things in life, and they are: to solve cases, to keep bad people from doing their bad things, to get good coffee, to go home to a spacious apartment with nobody else in it, and to manage his stupid telempathy powers with minimal interference. And now he's stuck in a tiny cabin in a snowstorm in the middle of god-awful-nowhere with Harry Styles. Because of course he is.

🌲 you’re the habit that i can’t break by @ohpleaselarry {NR, 24k}

The boys decide to have a belated band reunion, just the five of them. One week, one cabin in the mountains, five boys.

Harry and Louis haven’t spoken sober in a year.

🌲 An Aurora Grove Christmas by @dandelionfairies {T, 17k}

Harry gets lost on his way to St. Louis. The roads are horrid because of the snow and he ends up spinning into a ditch. Lucky for him, he finds a cabin nearby, as well as a cute blue-eyed man who immediately helps him. Unfortunately, his car is stuck for the night, but at least he has a place to stay with Louis. With the snow continuing to fall and another storm front coming through, will he ever make it out of Aurora Grove? Does he even want to?

🌲 The fic where Harry calls Louis an idiot for ten days straight because he is one. by @mercurial-madhouse {M, 16k}

They’ve found the perfect get away from their busy lives as nationally-famous footie player and well-respected restaurant critic, escaping to the isolation of a cabin in the woods where they can simply be Louis and Harry.

If only both were actually here.

A gift forgotten in London, the untameable force of the weather, and the scent of burnt snickerdoodle biscuits find Harry and Clifford pitifully alone and Louis... Where is Louis?

🌲 Darling, Just Hold My Hand by likelarry {E, 10k}

Louis and Harry decide to spend a week at a skii resort with their families during the Christmas holidays.

On Christmas night, Harry goes into labor but the family gets snowed in which forces him to give birth in the cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily, his husband is a surgeon who can help.

🌲 heaps of blankets by gemma {E, 7k}

You know when you and the one you love go for a not-so-adventurous adventure? And you do everything that's crazy, everything you want and just enjoy each other's company? That's Harry's plan when he rents a cabin at a resort in the mountains for him and Louis.

🌲 Orchids by talasArchivesx / @talasarchive {M, 7k}

“Do you find me sensible yet?” Twenty-two letters and six words, yet it lingers on Louis’ mind like an old song playing from a worn cassette. Such a memory holds so much significance it visits Louis’ mind every unsuspecting moment.

The words are a dreamy reminder of such precious seconds of his life.

A story about losing against the drifting tide, and finally coming home; featuring a cabin, winter blizzard and “one bed”.

🌲 Let It Snow by @jaerie {E, 6k}

With a blizzard approaching, Louis planned to spend his birthday with a drink and a good book. In his self exile at his remote cabin, he never expected a poorly dressed stranger to show up shivering and covered in snow. He also didn’t expect to have one of his best birthdays on record.

🌲 wish i knew how to break this spell by eleadore {E, 6k}

Maybe it should be more of a surprise to open the door and find Harry wrapped up in about a dozen blankets, face pink from the cold and soft from sleep. It isn’t.

Harry, Louis, and a cabin. It's cold outside.

🌲 Strange Trails by bananazine {G, 4k}

After one of Harry Style's third-years lost their favourite hat on a class hike, Harry goes back the next day to retrieve it. To his demise, a downpour of rain strikes, forcing him to search for shelter. He runs without a stop towards the nearest clearing and his prayers get answered when he sees an old hunting cabin. With trepidation slowing his steps, he finally makes it towards the presumably vacant cabin. Though, to be polite, he knocks, only to be faced by the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

🌲 (not) driving home for christmas by BeautifulWisdom / @justanotherghostblr {T, 3k}

Spending the holidays alone at his cabin, driving through a snowstorm Harry hits an animal. He takes the large dog back to his cabin to see if he can keep it alive until the storm breaks and he can get to a vet. Colour him surprised and woefully unprepared when said dog turns into a very bloody and very naked man.

#ficrec #hlcreators #hljournal #hltracks #trackinghome #trackinghappily #tracksintheam #hlsource #1dsource #1dficvillage #beautifulwisdom #bananazine #eleadore #jaerie #talasarchivesx #gemma #likelarry #mercurialmadhouse #dandelionfairies #ohpleaselarry #helloamhere #frenchkiss #duchesskitty16 #germericangirl #youreyesonlarry #haztobegood #stylinsoncity #septicstyles

[kedreeva]

The funniest thing about Robin's "It shocked me to my core, but I like you, I really like you" is that it probably was shocking, but it shouldn't have been particularly unexpected.

I think that a lot of people see King Steve and the thought stops at "douchebag jock." And there's accuracy in that! We see him being a dick to people we like. We hear Robin talk about how he came to class late and made a mess where he sat and ignored her even though she was right there.

But the other side of that coin is the reason why it's easy for people in-verse to be obsessed with him, the reason that he's King and not a douchebag loner. It's not the sports, although that may help. But lots of the kids play sports. It's a little bit the looks, but he's not the only pretty boy in school. It's not the money, although I'm sure that doesn't hurt either. And maybe the combination of things gives him a leg up, but at the end of the day, even when he falls from favor in season 2 he still plays sports, he still looks good, he still has money. But people aren't obsessed with him anymore because of one reason- he's no longer giving attention.

Because when Steve doesn't ignore someone, being the recipient of his attention is electric. And sometimes that electricity is deadly and you don't want it focused on you, like when he breaks Jonathan's camera, but sometimes it is bringing light to your whole world, like every time he pulls Nancy in for kisses or looks at her like she's the whole world.

Steve is the center of attention in almost any setting he's in, and being his center of attention has got to be An Experience. And I imagine that trying to get into that sweet spot and failing is where a lot of the general "douchebag jock" resentment comes from. People scraping for a reason to dislike him (when actually, god, when he's NICE to you it's fucking amazing, best feeling in the world even back then), blaming it on him being conceited about being good at sports or having good looks or being a rich kid etc (and again, it IS those things, too, but it's NOT those things). And Steve absolutely capitalizes on his attention being a commodity for personal gain (social status, sex, etc), and THAT is where the douchebag status actually stems from.

In Robin's case, she was mad about Tammy only wanting Steve's attention (as opposed to Robin's attention) but imagine what would have happened if Steve had paid attention to Robin? Like at all? Tammy would have noticed her, then. Everyone would have noticed her, back then. But he sat right there within arms reach and ignored her entirely, to the point where he didn't even know she existed, and so no one else did either, and that brewed some resentment.

It is also the reason that Nancy was so... novel, to Steve. She didn't want attention. She accepted his attention, sometimes, when it suited her, but she a) didn't want all the attention he could give her and b) didn't want what his attention in public would give her. And he recognized that even if he didn't understand it. She gets nervy about going to a party with him, and he assures her it's just the four of them- her and him, and the two people that know about them, and he's welcoming to her friend that knows. He comes over when she's studying and is baffled that she actually just wants to study (and that's an entirely separate meta). After they've had sex, she gets spooky about it and he assures her no, he didn't tell anyone, and also he shushes Tommy and Carol when they're getting loud about it in the cafeteria. Nancy's acting like she's honestly a little embarrassed to be seen in public with him and that's WEIRD. Like yeah ok, getting his ass handed to him by Jonathan is what caused the burning building of Steve's self-perception to finally collapse, but it was Nancy that set the fire.

Robin saw him before it was alight, and what she's finding, when she finally gets to know him, is that it's still true; having his attention is still electrifying. It still lights up the world. It's just that he isn't leveraging it for anything anymore. He's just Like That; he just puts all of himself into whatever he's doing, and it's actually really fun and great when what he's doing is genuinely being your friend.

#steve harrington #stranger things #buckington besties #stranger things meta

[d0llylove]

♡friends? [2]

♡pairing: saiki kusuo x f!reader

♡synopsis: art class put you in a sticky situation, having to pair up with someone you were uncomfortable with led saiki to save you from that. but things didn't go too well even after that.

♡t/w: sorry I forgot to add the reader was mocked in this fic for her art skills 💀

♡link to pt1: indifferent , pt3: furry feline

♡note: 'thinking', "saiki speaking telepathically"

ah yes art class, everyone's favourite lesson. not because everyone loves art, but probably because it's the one class where people could slack for it and get away with it.

obviously, kusuo was never a fan of art class to begin with. due his powers, he could draw the perfect replica of anything. almost as if it was traced line by line.

"spilt up into pairs and draw each other's portraits."

upon hearing that, you knew you were doomed. you always hated doing pairwork. not because you couldn't do it, it was because you had no one to do it with. you were ensure whether people just never noticed you to begin with or are actively avoiding you. either way, you still held a resentment against any sort of pairwork.

kusuo wanted to be careful with who he picked, he had already outed nendo and kaidou.

'I've got no one again?'

this familiar voice.

'I suppose she's struggling to find a partner.'

kusuo could see the you from the corner of his eye. it wasn't too obvious but you were sulking, probably beat up by the fact that no one approached you.

you face lit up as you saw someone walking towards you, he had weird lips but who cares?! this was the first time someone has spoken to you today!

saiki knew that there was no way he was going to let you end up with someone like takahashi.

"saiki-kun, if you haven't found anyone to pair up with, do you mind partnering me?" the class's most gorgeous girl, teruhashi kokomi had approached saiki.

he thought for a second, before giving a quick nod and then pointing to you.

"e-eh? could you tell me what you mean?" teruhashi seemed confused as she looked over his shoulder to see you with takahashi, seemingly very uncomfortable.

"let her join," saiki said with his signature expressionless face. teruhashi immediately started panicking over the fact that he was trying to include you. she took a peek at your face as you backed off from takahashi, in a polite manner trying to tell him that you weren't interested in the date he was asking you out to.

she felt horrible for you, having to be paired up with someone that weird. however, her heart fluttered when she realized why saiki was trying to invite you to their group.

'saiki-kun is always so thoughtful! helping out a girl in distress, I'll let you do it this time. even if it means sacrificing time alone with the most beautiful girl in class!'

'not really, it was out of pity.'

"o-oh wow!" you gasped, upon laying your eyes on teruhashi, you were speechless.

'why are you saying oh wow to teruhashi.'

"y-you're seriously asking me to join your group?" you repeated your question for the second time now, still in shock that teruhashi asked you.

"yeah, the more the merrier!" teruhashi gleamed clapping her hands together with a smile on her face.

you gave her a nod, before turning to saiki.

'this guy... is.. saiki, right? I think so, he has so many friends, it would be bad if I didn't know his name...'

looking at him, you grinned, "pleasure to meet you saiki-san!" he looked at you with a blank expression before giving you a small nod.

'a man of few words huh?'

'you're not wrong.'

"i just wanted to let you guys know, i'm not the best artist, so i'm really sorry if I draw you poorly," you let out nervous laughter, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your uniform.

"no worries, we won't judge!" teruhashi was quick to lighten the mood up.

♡

the three of you decided to take turns drawing each other. teruhashi would go first, saiki second then you last.

you sat beside saiki comfortably, as the gorgeous lady who sat opposite the two of you had a nervous smile on her face and flushed cheeks.

"are you okay, teruhashi-san?" you asked, looking up from your sketch book when you noticed how nervous she seemed.

she gave you a quick nod, quick to deny the fact that she was feeling nervous and blamed it on the large amount people surrounding the three of you.

'must be hard being the prettiest girl huh..'

you peeked over to your side, saiki sitting calmly beside you. your eyes blew wide as you saw the drawing of kokomi, it was far to realistic for a normal sixteen year old student to draw. you looked up, at saiki.

'c-could it be?'

'crap! she saw it,' saiki's brows furrowed as he awaited your response, as if it was a gamble, to see whether he won or lost it.

'saiki is secretly the world's best sixteen year old artist?!'

'she's truly an idiot.'

♡

"I'm finished with mine!" you exclaimed, proudly showing kokomi your sketchbook. teruhashi's excited smile immediately switched to a disgusted look for a spilt second before regaining her composure.

"w-woah.. [name]-san... its truly.. something," kokomi grinned nervously, trying her best not to hurt your feelings. even though her feelings were hurt. you didn't know but in her head, she couldn't believe her eyes, your drawing was well, to put it nicely, horrendous. it made sense why kokomi was so upset.

her eyes in your sketchbook were uneven, one big and one small, they weren't even placed correctly. her nose was just two big dots, no nose bridge, nothing. her lips? it looked like a toddler drew it. actually the whole image looked like a toddler drew it.

'I didn't know you were funny.' saiki had an unnoticeable amused smile plastered on his face.

'but it's really ugly.'

♡

bonus: (everyone's reaction to your drawing)

your popularity actually got boosted up so much when you teamed up with teruhashi. it went from a 49 to a solid 78.

that was until you showed her your drawing. everyone who was surrounding you guys were absolutely horrified by the sight that stood before them.

many of the guys started scolding you, yelling horrible names at you. however, saiki saw that coming, he made sure to use his powers on you before they could start making fun of you.

basically what you saw was completely different. in your eyes, everyone just saw your drawing, then just stood there quietly.

however, in saiki's eyes, when people were yelling at you, you just sat there, smiling calmly. it only lasted a brief moment before kokomi stopped it, telling them to stop treating you poorly because she thinks that you both are friends.

at the end of the day your popularity raised by an astonishing one! sitting at a solid 50! it did pull up from a 20 earlier when you were getting bashed by your classmates. but you never noticed so it's fine!

#saiki kusuo x reader #saiki x reader #saiki no psi nan #saiki k #kusuo saiki #kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo

[starcatcher-gvf]

Back and Forth - Chapter 4

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Word Count: 5.4k

I'm SO sorry for the late update! College has been a mess recently, and work is always horrible. But I FINALLY finished this chapter! There will be more after this, so stay tuned!

Warnings: Language, smut, sexual content, smoking, kissing, foreplay, touching, guitar face/drummer face (if you know you know ;)), male receiving oral, frottage (for real!), nipple play/stimulation, fluff

Let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy :)

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

The car stopped abruptly outside a generic-looking hotel, some sort of inn that promised dreamless sleep in a strange bed and a full continental breakfast at 5 in the morning. Danny popped the door open on his right and let himself out, Jake scooting out behind. The men looked at the dingy place with confusion. The Garden Inn? Was this the right hotel?

Danny fished the hotel key card he was given from his back pocket. Before leaving for the bar, their tour manager handed it to him and told him where the hotel was. But Danny was in such a hurry that what he heard went in one ear and out the other.

They both looked at the key card. No name. Danny flipped it on the back. No name. Just stock photos of random city skylines and the room number. 635.

“Well, that’s not helpful.” Jake looked back to the hotel and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hold on, I’ll call someone right quick.” Danny whipped out his phone and searched through his contacts. He clicked the number and held the phone to his ear, waiting for Sam to pick up.

Danny knew Sam would be more likely to pick up than Josh: the diva needed his beauty sleep, after all. And the younger brother had a notorious habit of staying up too late with his reeling brain. Come on, Sam, I know you’re up. Pick up the damn phone.

“Daniel?”

“Hey, Sam. What’s the hotel we’re staying at tonight?” Danny breathed out a sigh of relief and looked at Jake. He was wringing his hands around, and he still looked nervous and almost seasick.

“Aren’t you here?” Danny could hear Sam shifting around, presumably to look out the window.

He gulped. Danny completely forgot to tell anyone where he was going, to make up some sort of excuse for being absent. Josh and Sam got their own rides back to the hotel, so they most likely assumed Jake and him did the same. Danny rubbed the back of his neck and looked towards the front of the hotel again. “Um…no. I went out after the show.”

“You…went out. With who?” Sam’s prying tone made Danny wobbly. His heart was beating in his ears again.

“Just tell me what the hotel’s name is. We’re outside one, but I don’t know if it’s the right one. There’s no name on the key card.”

“You’re bringing someone?!” Sam blurted in Danny’s ear. He had to hold the phone back from his ear so it wouldn’t get ruptured.

I said “we”? I said “we”. Danny looked back at Jake and saw his eyes burning holes back into him. Jake mouthed “We?”. Danny’s stomach felt like it turned to jelly.

“No, no! I’m outside. Just me. What’s the name of the hotel, Samuel?!” He was at his wit’s end. Just tell me the FUCKING name.

“Oh, you’re so lucky my view is from the side, I would’ve busted you!” Sam, shuffling again, laughed with a slight hint of resentment in his voice. “We’re at the Garden Inn, on the corner of Southwest and…Green, I think? Either way, you can’t miss it. It’s got this big fucking sign at the front, and it flashes so bad I couldn’t look at it.”

Danny looked up at the sign again and, sure enough, Garden Inn was flashing so quickly he had to look away after a couple seconds. “Yeah, I see it. Thanks, Sam. G’night.”

“Night, Daniel. Don’t go too crazy. Make sure she can walk by tomorrow, we gotta pack up and get on the road by ten,” Sam replied with a laugh before hanging up abruptly.

Danny felt his ears get hot at Sam’s implications. Jake snickered beside him and brought out a matching key card for his room. “I assume this is the right place, then?”

Jake’s smile made Danny almost swoon. His entire face cracked open, revealing the smart, shy, talented boy Danny first met all those years ago, when they asked if he wanted to be in the band. His sick look was fading, revealing all his best features to Danny. The dimple on his left cheek. His eyes, slightly squinting from his smile. His teeth, shining beautifully underneath his lips. His lips, God, his lips. Danny was reminiscing on the way they felt pressed against his own, strong enough to crush coal into diamonds.

“Hey. You heard me?” Jake’s voice shot through the air and shook Danny out of his trance. He also heard Jake’s fingers snapping in front of his face.

“What?”

“I said I was gonna go to my room for a bit, if that’s alright,” Jake reiterated. “Maybe get a snack from a vending machine. And, uh…” Jake pointed to his mouth shyly.

“Oh! Yeah, take your time.” Danny ran up to the door and held it open for the guitarist, feeling dumb for not thinking of that earlier.

Jake walked past Danny, but he leaned in close to his ear and placed a small kiss behind it before walking into the lobby.

Jake let the door of the hotel room close behind him as he flopped onto the bed, careful not to crush the plastic container holding the turkey sandwich he got from the hi-tech vending machine down the hall. He groaned into the mattress, feeling his stomach churn with his anxiety and his hunger. His fingers reached his lips, still feeling Danny’s mouth on them. Feeling Danny’s neck on them. Jake sighed, letting a small smile through while his eyes surveyed the hotel room.

The room surrounding him looked like any other: off-white walls with a soft warm glow emanating from the lamp on the bedside table, pictures hung on the walls that matched the key cards, dark blue carpet that hid any trace of dirt or grime that might be lying there. But the bed, to Jake’s surprise, was soft and fluffy. It beckoned him to sleep. But he couldn’t sleep. Not yet.

Jake sat up and started eating, the feeling of food hitting his stomach keeping it quiet. The sandwich was harder than he thought it would be, but he didn’t mind that much. All that mattered was that he was keeping Danny waiting.

He wiped his mouth with a napkin he picked up from the room’s small kitchen area and tossed the trash into the small can at his feet. Jake looked across the room at his duffel bag, packed with the bare minimum of necessities, including his toothbrush and toothpaste.

The headache Jake felt was dull, but he could still feel it behind his eyes. The stress, the embarrassment of it all. He hoped Danny didn’t look down on him, didn’t see him as weak or fragile. Though he wanted, needed, to feel Danny overpower him, dominate him in some way, he still wanted some of his dark and mysterious personality to be intact. With a grumble he picked up his bag and shuffled into the bathroom.

He dumped the few items out he had packed onto the counter, and out rattled his small wooden cigar box. Jake stared at it for a second and opened it to see one last cigar placed in the middle of it. He put it in his pocket, just for good measure, and reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste.

Danny walked out of his bathroom over to the sliding glass window. There was a speck of mint toothpaste left on the corner of his mouth, but he saw it in the window’s reflection and quickly wiped it away with his thumb. He sighed and opened the glass door.

The wind whipped his hair around his face and raised the hair on his arms. Danny’s choice of pajamas didn’t exactly fit the weather, but he needed to get outside, clear his head, before Jake made his way to his room. The vintage band t-shirt billowed, but his gray sweatpants at least kept his legs warm.

He leaned on the railing of the balcony and looked around at the sky. The moon had completely disappeared at this point, leaving only the stars shining in the inky blackness. He also noticed the clouds moving faster to his left. Though Danny stared at the inclement weather, his head was still filled with Jake. He leaned his forehead on the railing now, staring past the sidewalk below.

What a fucking day.

He couldn’t believe it. Jake actually kissed him. A real kiss, with real feeling, real emotion. Danny remembered how slender Jake felt in his arms, how perfect his body fit in his hands. He shuddered, partly from the wind’s chill and from his memories repeating on loop. He wanted more, but did Jake? Those eyes on stage said one thing, but he might not have meant it in that way.

Danny felt his pulse quicken, a sign of his building arousal. But, he also felt something else: a tightness in his chest, like his heart was being squeezed. He felt like he could cry or hyperventilate. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Just foreign.

He then heard the pounding on the door.

He jolted out of his stupor and looked toward the door, making sure it wasn’t his imagination playing tricks on him, or some early-morning housekeeper. A pause ensued that felt like eternity. How long had he been zoned out?

“Dan?” Jake’s voice rang out through the sound of the wind. Dan. Danny quickly straightened up and walked back inside, neglecting the open glass door as his mind was laser-focused on Jake, Jake, Jake.

He unlocked the door and fumbled with the handle before throwing it open. Jake stood in the hallway, one fist ready to knock on the door again, the other in his pocket. His hair was pulled back in a messy bun, with the ends spilling around the back of his neck. Small strands of hair framed his face and made his eyes seem infinitely darker. Danny’s breath stalled in his throat. He opened the door wider, allowing room for Jake to walk through.

Jake walked past him but stopped in the middle of the room. As Danny closed and locked the door, Jake looked back and asked, “Getting some fresh air?”

Danny looked towards the open balcony door, the curtains billowing in the wind. “Shit, lemme get that.” He made his way to close the door, but Jake’s hand met with the middle of his chest.

“Actually,” Jake said as he pulled the cigar from his pocket. “I had another idea. We can’t get caught smoking on hotel property, so we gotta be careful” His mouth formed into a smirk as their eyes met again.

Danny was not expecting this to end like how it started. Jake’s hand lingered on his chest, spreading warmth through his body. Fuck. If he already had this much of an effect on him, he might as well just finish in his pants. Every single thing about Jake made his arousal more enhanced in this moment: his messy hair, the bare skin peeking out from his button-down, his musky smell. He suddenly felt that warmth radiate towards his cock and felt his pulse coarse through him harder.

“Jake.”

Jake’s hand trailed lower and lower, sliding over his abdominal muscles and his stomach. His thin t-shirt didn’t provide any sort of protection against the wind or Jake’s touch. He could feel every sensation like he was being struck by lightning with each inch he moved further down. But Danny wasn’t the only one whose composure was faltering. He could hear Jake’s breath picking up as his fingers landed on the waistband of Danny’s gray sweatpants. They felt too tight already. God, what is he doing to me?

“We gonna go smoke?” He tried to grab Jake’s attention again.

“Yeah,” Jake said after slipping his hand away from Danny. “Yeah.”

The smoke Jake exhaled blew away in the wind. He crossed his feet and leaned against the balcony as he passed the cigar to his left where Danny was. Danny plucked it from Jake’s fingers and brought it to his mouth for another drag.

They hadn’t said anything for fifteen minutes, but the inside of Jake’s head was loud. Really loud. The buzz from the cigar couldn’t quell his nerves like he wanted it to. He just stared out at the sky and waited for the man beside him to pass the half-burnt cigar.

His gaze lingered back to Danny from the side of his vision. Jake could see his tattoo now from this angle; the black ink contrasted with his tanned skin, but it looked so right, like it was destined to brand his skin. The moon may be Jake’s thing, but Danny wore it well too. Acting impulsively, Jake leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on the triangle, and he chuckled as he felt Danny jump slightly.

“What now?” Danny looked back at Jake with expectant eyes. Jake gulped.

“I’m not too sure.” A pause.

“Have you ever…?” Danny inquired.

“No. Have you?”

“No.” Jake’s pulse quickened. This was so new to both of them. Uncharted territory. All Jake knew was that he wanted to explore every inch of him. Somehow.

Danny passed the almost-finished cigar back to him. Jake took it and inhaled one last breath of smoke and held it in. He felt his lungs burning, screaming for air, but he wouldn’t let it out just yet. He quickly put the cigar out on the railing and dropped it in the street below before reaching for Danny’s face with both hands.

Danny’s arms automatically wrapped around Jake’s waist as their lips met for a passionate kiss, almost like they’ve done this so many times before. Like instinct. Smoke wrapped around them as Jake’s mouth opened and allowed Danny’s tongue to slip in.

Jake sighed at the sensation. The buzz in his head was growing again, more intense than he ever felt while performing. The feeling of Danny’s tongue, warm and exciting, against his own sent rushes of adrenaline and dopamine through his brain. He also felt Danny’s breath quicken as the kiss deepened, and his voice let out a small noise of strain. Oh God, oh God.

Jake pulled away abruptly as they both gasped for air. His gulps for air were interrupted by a small laugh from Danny. “You alright?”

Jake nodded with hooded eyes, staring longingly at his mouth, wanting more despite being oxygen-deprived. But Danny put a finger to his lips and pushed his head back slightly. “I have another idea.”

Danny led Jake back inside his room. The warmth in the hotel shocked Jake, a sudden contrast to the chill of the wind outside. Danny slid the glass door shut, which left a silence in the room punctuated by soft thuds from above, presumably somebody’s footsteps. His nervousness slammed back into him all of a sudden, and he sat down at the foot of the bed to steady himself. Another idea.

Danny stood over him and placed his hands on the bed, one on each side of Jake’s lap. Their mouths met again in a kiss, soft but sensual, as Danny lowered himself onto his knees. Jake pulled him closer by the back of his neck with one hand, the other placed on his shoulder. He had a faint idea of what was to come, but he just wanted Danny’s mouth as close to his as humanly possible.

Jake felt a calculated pressure on his cock, which made him squirm and moan into Danny’s mouth. He looked down slightly and found Danny’s hand pressed onto him. Fuck, his hand felt good. The warmth even through his jeans sent his body ablaze, and he started bucking up into his hand without even realizing it. “Dan…”

Danny separated themselves with a loud smack resonating through the room from their kiss. He leaned forward to his neck and placed sloppy wet kisses along Jake’s throat, paying special attention to the spot where his carotid artery made his skin pulsate. Jake sighed and ran both of his hands through Danny’s hair, feeling the curls and small tangles his textured hair left. A particularly rough bite on the side of his neck made Jake hiss through his teeth and pull Danny’s hair slightly.

“Ngh…you okay?” Danny breathed into Jake’s neck, testing the waters.

Jake nodded, finding his concern endearing and erotic at the same time. He reached behind his head and unraveled his bun, letting his hair fall onto Danny’s face and neck. He felt Danny lick a stripe up the side of his neck to his ear where he nipped at his earlobe, gently pulling on the small silver hoop Jake had adorning his ears.

“Can I…?” Danny asked, making sure to punctuate his words with a harder press of his hand on Jake’s jeans. Jake’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, both from his words and from his movements. He slowly nodded. He already knew. He would give anything to feel that, to see Danny defile him, to see himself defile Danny. He bit his bottom lip in anticipation.

Danny slowly lowered himself lower and lower, leveling eye-to-eye with Jake’s stomach. He placed his hands on Jake’s knees and spread them apart quickly. He heard Jake gasp and swallow, most likely in anticipation. Or was it his nerves? Danny looked up at Jake’s face, surprised to find his eyes staring intensely back at him.

“You tell me if it gets to be too much, okay? Do we need a safe word?” Danny thought this might be better than just “no”; that word could be taken in so many ways.

“How about ‘smoke’?” Jake proposed with a small smile. Smoke, Danny thought. How fitting.

“‘Smoke’ it is. And ‘fire’ for…” Danny trailed off as he slowly undid Jake’s jeans with one hand while keeping the other on his knee to keep them spread apart. Jake’s breath picked back up again, with his chest moving with his laborious breaths.

Danny pulled the elastic band of his boxers down to reveal a neat patch of hair settled at the base. Then slowly, slowly, Jake was freed. Danny’s mouth became dry as he stared. He never thought something like this could be so…pretty? That wasn’t the right word, but it was close. Jake’s member, pulsating with his arousal, wasn’t huge, but it was enough. The vein that ran along the underside led a trail towards his tip, swollen and pink and glistening with precome. A sight to see.

Danny looked up at Jake’s face again for one last moment of approval, but he was met with an impatient, lust-filled expression. His cheeks were flushed, and his hand was at his mouth, fingers pressed lightly on his lips. His doe eyes were fixated on Danny’s, pupils blown with lust, awaiting the next move. Come on come on come on, his face seemed to say.

He took Jake into his hand and started a slow rhythm of strokes, using Jake’s precome and some of his own spit to lubricate his movements. Jake’s voice rang out with a mhmm, fueling Danny to pick up the pace slightly. Fuck.

Jake let his head fall back, exposing his chest gleaming a little with sweat. The Atocha coins around his neck were clanging together with every inhale and exhale he took that matched the rhythm of Danny’s hand. With each pump of his fist, Danny’s own erection grew harder and harder in his pants, threatening to burst through if given the chance. He needed to calm down, focus on Jake first and foremost, before even thinking about himself. But damn, did Jake look good. His cover was slipping, leaving behind a shaking mess of a man.

Danny swallowed and placed his lips at the tip. He leaned in as close as he could and parted his lips, taking the first inch of Jake into his mouth. Jake’s head shot forward with a gasp, his knees closing on the sides of his head and applying faint pressure to his temples. Jake’s hair curtained his face and…holy shit. Danny looked up to the same face Jake usually makes when in a musical trance on stage: lips parted, eyes barely open, a sheen of sweat on his brow. “Shit…” Jake said through his breaths.

Danny felt his heart stutter at his expletive and decided to go farther, deeper. He lowered his head, taking in as much of Jake’s cock as he could without gagging. The rhythm Danny set made Jake’s legs shake, and he felt Jake’s hand burrow in his hair, pulling and pushing his head up and down unconsciously. Guiding him. Danny’s eyes watered, silently gagging but not caring.

Oh my fucking God. Jake couldn’t believe what was happening. Of course he’d had blowjobs in the past before, from various ex-girlfriends in high school and after, but this felt different. His cock was so sensitive to Danny’s touch he felt like he would come undone in seconds. And his chest felt tight, like he would cry. What the fuck was happening?

The hand Jake had in Danny’s hair kept bobbing his head up and down, up and down. The coil in his stomach threatened to burst all too soon, and Jake panicked. No, no, no, don’t. He didn’t want this to end yet, but he was too close. He haphazardly pulled Danny’s hair, hard, getting his mouth off of him with a pop.

Danny’s eyes widened in matching panic. Jake realized the implications of what he just did and tried to explain through ragged breaths. “I don’t…want it to end so soon. I was gonna…” Jake trailed off in embarrassment.

Danny reached a hand up to cup Jake’s cheek and gave him a smile. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to end just there.”

Jake’s cheeks flushed under Danny’s touch. He thought after this they would go back to their separate rooms, their separate lives, and never speak of this again. Jake wanted to stay, wanted Danny to stay, wanted him to want to stay. The blur of thoughts and implications made Jake feel dizzy, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against Danny’s.

“I want you,” Jake broke the silence.

“I know. I do too.”

“There’s nothing here to, y’know, help with that though.” Jake chuckled. He had the least bit of experience with intimacy between two men, but he figured they would need a lot of lube.

Danny laughed through his nose, a quiet sound. “We can save that for another time, okay?”

“Okay,” Jake replied. Another time. Jake’s heart fluttered at the thought. “What do we do about this now?” He gestured between them. His own painfully hard cock twitched between them, and Danny’s sweatpants had a visible tent.

Danny’s eyes lit up. “Slide back.” Jake cocked his eyebrow but complied, sliding back onto the bed. His shirt started to slide off of his shoulders, so he slid both arms out of the sleeves, leaving the button-up on the covers of the bed.

Danny threw his shirt off as well and placed it on the floor near the bed. He crawled over to Jake and sat criss-cross. His chest, adorned with a patch of dark hair, tensed with every movement. Jake couldn’t help but stare; he was practically drooling.

Jake yelped as Danny grabbed his waist, digging his fingers into his sensitive muscles. He was lifted onto his lap, knees straddling the larger man’s legs. His tip brushed Danny’s clothed length, and he shuddered from the touch. Danny’s face was eye-level to Jake’s chest, bare and glistening with sweat. The coins on Jake’s neck were now cold and coated with sweat, but Danny’s lingering breath warmed them up slightly.

What sounded like a growl emanated from Danny’s throat as he shuffled the band of his sweatpants down just enough to uncover himself. Jake swallowed as they connected. Danny’s cock was warm against his own, throbbing painfully with blood flow. Jake couldn’t handle it anymore, Fuck what he said earlier. He needed this.

A string of saliva dripped down between them from Jake’s mouth and landed on Danny’s tip. He gasped lightly as Jake took both of their cocks in his right hand and slowly, agonizingly, started to pump them together. The wetness of Jake’s cock, both from his own precum and Danny’s remaining spit, made the friction more fluid.

Danny’s head tilted back and a small moan escaped his mouth. This fueled Jake Jake even more, coaxing him to set a faster pace.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Danny reacted. He placed a hand on Jake’s waist to pull themselves closer to each other. Their cocks were now pressed up against each other’s stomachs, but there was still enough room for Jake’s hand to continue the movement. The tip of Jake brushed up against Danny, which he found to be a heavenly sensation, and it seemed that Danny was feeling the same way. His bottom lip was tucked underneath his teeth, presumably to stifle a louder moan of pleasure.

Jake’s composure was faltering even more. Sweat was rolling down his face and body in large droplets and chilling in the room’s air. Still, he felt like he was melting, both from the heat of being so close to Danny and his building orgasm.

Jake let his mouth hang open as Danny added his hand to the mix. Jake’s right and Danny’s left were connected, fingers brushing against each other, as they touched each other. Danny pulled Jake even closer and licked a stripe between his pectorals, gathering a trail of sweat onto his tongue. His tongue lingered on Jake’s chest for a second, all the while managing a steady pace, and he suddenly licked one of Jake’s nipples.

Jake gasped as Danny kept swiping his tongue over the hard bud. Never could he in his wildest dreams imagine that this act could feel so…intoxicating. More moans escaped his mouth, not of his own accord, and he put his lips to the top of Danny’s head to stifle them.

“Smoke?” Danny asked. He slowed the pace down on their lengths but still kept the pressure.

Jake almost wanted to laugh, but his heart ached in his chest too. Throughout all this, Danny was still concerned about how Jake felt and wanted to make sure he was okay. This was the Danny he adored so much: his quiet gentle companion in the band. His quiet gentle lover? Jake’s head was spinning again. All he knew was that this moment was his and theirs. Danny was his.

“Fire,” Jake whispered.

The word rang between Danny’s ears. Fire. His legs were numb from the way they were sitting, but he could still feel the warmth spreading through his legs and up to his sacrum. His length was pulsating more intensely now. He could feel it moving slightly in his own hand, and he was damn sure Jake could feel it in his. Fuck.

Danny took this breathless word and ran with it. He tightened his grip on themselves and pumped faster, putting monumental pressure on both of their tips. Precum smeared all over his hand and on their cocks, becoming one in the same. The sight could make Danny come undone, but he wouldn’t get there without Jake. No way in hell.

Jake’s moans started again, and Danny could feel his voice reverberating through his head as he breathed against the top of his head. He could also hear the wetness of their movements between them as Jake moved his hips for more friction. Danny let out a hum of approval at the sight of Jake fucking into their hands, fucking against Danny’s own cock. Seeing Jake so lost in this moment was so beautiful and gratifying. A voice in his mind told him that he would never be able to forget this.

Jake’s movements with his hand and hips were getting sloppier, and his hips stuttered on occasion. Is he…? Danny couldn’t tell, but he wanted to ride that high with Jake. Needed to.

Danny tightened his grip on Jake’s waist with his right arm and kept him moving. Face against his chest again, Danny took the other neglected nipple in his mouth and rolled his tongue along it.

A cry sounded from Jake’s mouth, and a hand gripped at the back of Danny’s head, pulling his hair in a fist but not to pull Danny’s mouth away. To keep him there.

“Just like that…” Jake breathed out. Danny couldn’t look up from the angle he was in, but he could tell Jake was looking at him. Watching him. Getting off on this sight, this moment, this feeling.

That warmth spread through Danny again, but he didn’t try to quell it or reign it in. He ran his tongue up Jake’s pectoral to the base of his neck and asked, “Fire?”

“Please…fire.”

Danny’s hand moved at an unattainable pace, faster than Jake could manage. Jake leaned his forehead down on Danny’s, mouth open and breathing like he had almost drowned. A tingle ran along Danny’s spine and ran through his blood. Oh God. He gritted his teeth and seized up, hips moving sporadically as his orgasm painted Jake’s stomach. His voice came through in a groan between ragged breaths.

His hand still moved but only held Jake’s aching cock. Jake leaned back on both hands now, still straddling Danny. He looked into Danny’s eyes, eyes half-lidded and eyebrows furrowed, as Danny pumped him to finish. Jake’s eyes abruptly rolled into the back of his head and his expression completely changed.

Danny felt a pang of worry for a second, but it melted away when Jake whipped his head back and cried out in pleasure. His release coated Danny’s hand and chest and stomach. Jake’s cries were louder than he meant them to be, but Danny didn’t care at this point. Jake’s chest quivered and expanded with breath as his back arched, letting his orgasm punch through him.

He let his head come back forward, and he looked at Danny with a tilt of his head and a blissful smile. Danny smiled back with love in his heart.

BANG. BANG.

Both men jumped at the sudden thumps, and they looked towards the wall behind the headboard of the bed. They looked back at each other with wide eyes like deer in the night.

And they laughed. Jake leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Danny, still snickering. Danny could feel him breathing in his scent, and he hummed. He returned Jake’s embrace with a kiss to his temple and his fingers tracing the skin on his back. Jake pulled his head back and kissed him deeply. The lingering taste of cigar came back, though it felt like ages since they were outside.

Danny pulled back from the kiss, and a sticky sound resonated between them as their bodies separated. Their stomachs were pressed together, and the evidence of their climax was mixed together now. A mess, truly, but Danny thought it was a beautiful mess.

He looked over at the clock on the bedside table. 3:51 am. Shit. He didn’t think it was this late already, but time flies. “I guess we should shower, huh?” He offered.

“Hmm, I guess.” Jake scooted back on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Their orgasms were painted all over his abdomen and his torso was coated in sweat, but despite his words, he made no move to get up for a shower.

“Don’t get too comfortable, now.” Danny stood up and stretched his arms upward to get his blood flowing again to his legs. “I could shower first, or you could. It doesn’t really matter.”

“Or we could shower together,” Jake said with a smirk. His eyes were closed now and his arms were crossed behind his head. Danny’s heart thumped, but he couldn’t get distracted. Sam said they were hitting the road at ten in the morning. Six hours from now.

“As much as I’d love that,” Danny replied. “We can’t. We have to get up around eight thirty.” Danny leaned on the bed and reached over for a chaste kiss.

“Hmmmm, you go first then.” Jake opened his eyes to look into Danny’s. “Was I that loud?”

Danny chuckled. “I think they’re just mad they didn’t get any tonight.” He stood back up and made his way to the bathroom.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #danny wagner #jake gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fan fic #fanfic #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh gvf #sam gvf #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van fleet fic

[patchwork-crow-writes]

There's a lot of speculation about what the Chapter 3 secret boss will be based on, with people guessing things like something of Asriel's, such as the contents of his drawer you can look in, or the suspiciously-similar OC he designed on his computer, or even the TV Darkner itself.

But I don't really see anyone talk about something that jumped out at me almost from the beginning - Asgore's flowers that Toriel keeps throwing in the trashcan. And you might be all like "What? When did that happen? What even is that?" but hear me out a moment.

Long post under the read more!

So when in the Dreemurr's house at the beginning of each chapter, you can inspect the trashcan, and it'll mention that it's "emitting a pleasant floral scent". And you think nothing of that, because some people spray air freshener in their trashcans to stop them smelling bad. But by visiting Asgore at the end of Chapter 1, he'll give you Flowers, which you can give to Toriel, who mentions that she'll find somewhere "suitable" for them. Then in Chapter 2, inspecting the trashcan again reveals that the floral scent "has increased".

So this tells us that Asgore has been trying this for a while, and every time Toriel gets his flowers, they go straight into the trash. And I mean... yeah? They're divorced, seemingly in rather acrimonious circumstances, and while he'd quite like things to go back to how they were, she seems very much past it all. Seems like an understandable, if rather cold, response to unwanted advances from an ex.

So... what's the deal here exactly? Well, consider that darkners are beings born from objects in the light world that exist to serve some sort of purpose - namely, to serve lightners. And consider, also, that darkners are capable of becoming resentful should they become unable to serve this purpose and are abandoned - the prime example of this is King from Chapter 1. Finally, consider that all of the secret bosses up to this point have originated from items that are typically discarded - the Joker card for Jevil, a spam email for Spamton.

With me so far? Good, because it gets better.

Imagine a beautiful bouquet of flowers, painstakingly arranged with care, with the singular intention of winning back the love of somebody you wronged. Imagine that love and care suffused into the resulting darkner, eager to serve this purpose. Imagine they reach their intended target, how they might feel when they are met not with pleasure or gratitude, but weariness and scorn. Imagine the despair they must feel when they are thrown away, abandoned, never to fulfill their destiny, never to see the light ever again.

Now imagine this happening again. And again. And again. Day after day, week after week. Imagine the love of their creator turning to obsession as he tries anything and everything he can to win back his lost love. Imagine the increasing exasperation and disdain that his desperate efforts are met with time after time. Imagine being forced to absorb these incredibly intense and conflicting emotions as you are tossed upon a growing pile of your past selves, corpse upon corpse upon corpse, into a bottomless pit where life, love and optimism slowly putrefies into death, resentment and nihilism, where the only constant is that soon there will be more of your number to join you.

What kind of a darkner could possibly result from such a horrifying cocktail? And what would such a being do when ostensibly given a second chance by some... mysterious benefactor?

And that's even BEFORE you get into the whole Flowey parallels, with a plantlike being who becomes increasingly bitter and twisted as he loops through time again and again and again, and eventually becomes a monstrous godlike entity through the power of SOULS. A plantlike being that USED TO BE THE SON OF THAT GAME'S TORIEL AND ASGORE.

...if this doesn't convince you that those flowers are going to be Chapter 3's Secret Boss, then nothing will. And if they're NOT the Chapter 3 secret boss, my jimmies will be considerably ruffled. So there lol

#rambling #deltarune #theory #chapter 3 #secret bosses #Asgore #Toriel #flowey is mentioned

[i-didnt-do-1t]

The one where Katherine follows the Delanceys’ down to the basement.

cw: threat of violence

The door to the basement slammed closed behind him, and Oscar wasn’t expecting a hit to land across his cheek as he stepped out into the hall.

It wasn’t a hard one, nothing compared to the backhands from Snyder or da, but enough to send his head sideways at the unexpected nature of it, enough for it to sting.

Immediately on guard out of the corner of his eye he caught movement again and caught the wrist in a harsh grip before the second hit could land.

When he looked at her, Katherine Pulitzer didn’t look back. Her gaze instead fixed on his bruising red knuckles circling her arm.

“What did you do to him?” She asked and her voice was hard, all sharp edges, and she didn’t seem afraid of Oscar either, not in the way she should be, and the realisation felt like pin pricks in his skin still buzzing from the adrenaline of beating on Kelly. So he tightened his grip, working against the logical part of his brain that told him it wasn’t in his best interests to rough up Joseph Pulitzer’s daughter and jerked her arm to the side forcing her forward.

“Only what your father paid us to.”

“Clearly money matters to you more than your morals.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine money is anythin’ that you’ve ever had to worry about.”

It was only at the vitriol in his voice that she attempted to pull her arm away from him. Instead he tightened his fingers, his knuckles aching at the movement.

He could feel Morris at his side, feel his stare, something akin to a glare but nothing enough to make him stop yet.

“There are other ways to gain it than being fists for hire, then beating on kids that are only trying’ to make a living-“

“Okay” Oscar relented. “Maybe there is. But maybe breakin’ Kelly’s hand is more satisfying’.”

He enjoyed the way her eyes widened, the way her jaw tensed with worry.

“You’re both bas-“

He cut over the top of her, loud and sharp and blunt. “-being paid by your father. Who told us we can treat him as we see fit.”

She was biting her tongue. He could tell. She tried to pull away again and he had to stop himself from laughing, almost had to admire her confidence.

“And we ain’t nothin’ next to what Snyder’s gonna do to’him. You gonna go start a fight with him too? Think you can win that one?”

“Let go of me.”

“You hit me first.” He turned to Morris, his too casual grip far too strong for the harsh way she tried to yank herself away again and failed. “What d’you think Morris. Brave little girl reporter ain’t so brave no more.”

“I am not, a little girl.”

“Oh. Course’ not.”

The mocking in his tone was enough to make her expression shift again from worried to angry before it stuck something firmly in the middle.

Oscar didn’t really abide by the whole, you can’t hit girls rule, not that it was something that he’d actually done, but he always thought if someone, anyone, swung first he was going to hit back twice as hard. But Katherine was different, laying a hand on Miss Pulitzer in any way that could leave a bruise all but guaranteed their return to the refuge, if not actual jail.

(but something in him, something that hated his father in a way not dissimilar to how she seemed to resent hers right now, told him she wouldn’t be saying a word. And maybe that was something he could respect.)

It was Morris in the end that lightly kicked his shin.

“Let her be. Door’s locked any way and you got the key. Ain’t like she’ll be getting in.”

And like she’d almost forgot Morris was there, her other hand raised, to try and hit out at them or do something stupid like try and grab the key in Oscar’s pocket he wasn’t sure and they weren’t gonna find out either, because this time in one fluid movement Morris grabbed her other arm.

“Thought you was meant to be smart,” he said, and he just sounded tired. “We can stand here arguing and Kelly can hear every word. You wanna make him worried bout you too on top’ve everything else?”

For a second Katherine was quiet, gaze flicking between the two of them and Oscar wondered what she was seeing. The Delancey brothers, made of the same blood and flesh who shared the same crease in their brows they got from their da. Snyder’s mutt’s from the refuge raised to bite and bare teeth. Oscar and Morris, side by side and back to back, putting money in their pockets and restless with the constant casual background hum of anger.

“You both could’ve helped.” She said eventually, and she pulled her arm from Morris, he let her go, shoving his hands back in his pocket before he came up with a cigarette. “You could’ve helped them.”

And the words felt familiar to Oscar, something similar spat at him one morning. He was right then, and he was right now too.

“Yeah? I help the guy who puts money in my pockets.”

He tightened his grip, only for a couple seconds, only until she winced, the expression near imperceptible, and then he let go. Swallowing down the rest of the anger, restless and pulsing through his blood and his limbs. He needed a drink, or a fight, or to turn around and beat on Kelly a little more.

Instead Morris shoved his shoulder toward the hall door.

He paused before he started walking though, sending once last look at Katherine as she held her arm to her chest and stared after them, frustration and something almost like fear written across her face, but not of them, not for herself.

“When Kelly fucks up his choices you ain’t gonna want to be at the rally Pulitzer,” He said, “Snyder’s men ain’t gonna be as nice as we are, not gonna have no qualms about hittin’ a girl.”

#constantly thinking about a broadway boot a watched a While ago where Kath follows the delanceys to the stairs and reaches out #and they roughly shrug her hand away

[medusapelagia]

8 Au-gust: Robots and Androids - Part 10

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WT: Android Steve Harrington, Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson, Temporary Character death [Steve], mention of previous death of characters Words: 2090

Owens and Joyce are looking at each other filled with eyes full of resentment.

“Elena.”

“It’s Joyce now.” the woman replies.

“Why did you leave us? To come here in the middle of nowhere to play doctor?”

“Fuck you Owens, you know nothing about me. I have a family and I wanted to protect them!”

“We would have protected them!”

“As you protected your own child?!”

Owens closes his mouth while Eddie looks at him surprised.

A child? Does Owens have a child?

“Come on kids, eat something, you worked hard on that android.” Hopper says putting a couple of plates in front of them.

“I miss Stevie’s cooking. I wonder if he will still be able to cook.” Will whispers.

“Everyone here seems to be in love with that android. But you promised me a story, Eddie, and now I want to hear it.”

Eddie nods and tells them what Brennan said about S.T.E.V.E. and himself.

“An android? Martin Brenner?”

“Yeah. He hides it quite well; if he hadn’t cut his own arm in front of me I would have not believed that.”

“But this means that if we manage to expose him, we could win the war!”

“We are at war?” S.T.E.V.E. is at the door, looking at them confused.

“Where is my husband? And who are you?” he asks.

“Shit.”

“Language!” S.T.E.V.E. scolds Dustin.

El gets closer to him, taking his hand “You were injured, don’t you remember? You need to rest.” she tells him, taking him back to the laboratory.

“Fuck.” Dustin swears again.

“What?!” Eddie asks, confused.

“Do you remember that he had encrypted files in his memory chip? Well, I think that they are not encrypted anymore.”

Eddie is vibrating with excitement “This is a good thing! It’s a good thing right?”

Both Dustin and Joyce glare at Eddie “How would you feel if you woke up one day and found out that you are not human anymore but you are an android?”

“But that’s what it is…”

“Eddie… he lived almost three hundred years as an android and he just woke up as a human, nothing good is going to come from such a sudden change.” Joyce states.

When El comes back she is looking really serious “I put him under. He is charging again in a stand-by mood but when he wakes up for real it’s going to be a problem.”

Dustin nods “Yeah, I was thinking of easing him into all this shit. And don’t forget that at the moment he is even missing components. He will not recognize himself either as an android or a human. God this is such a mess.”

“Maybe we should simply put him out of his misery.” Owens suggests, coldly.

“You were the one who said that he can help us win the war!” Eddie complains, but Owens smiles.

“He is not the only one who could help us, is it sweety?”

Owens’ eyes are pinned on El, while Joyce and Hopper get protectively in front of her.

“Stay away from my daughter.” Joyce growls.

“Only she is not really your daughter, is she?”

“She is mine.”

“What’s your name, honey?”

“El.”

“Which is short for…”

She remains quiet.

“I order you to give me your complete name.” Owens states and Eleven glares at him but answers.

“11KH9NHAKR.”

“Eleven, El, nice. Almost like your Stevie. Don’t you think, Ed?”

But Eddie is staring at the girl, trying to remember if he ever saw her eating or something like that but he really can’t remember.

What he remembers is how easily they pushed the android back to the repair room the first time it collapsed. It seemed too effortless, and that was because the little android was pushing the table.

Shit.

“You lied to me.” Eddie accuses her.

“No one lied to anyone and no one is going to do anything, so stop this stupid show right now.” Hopper exclaims, sitting in front of Owens “El is our kid, and I don’t give a shit about what you and your little group of weirdos think: I have no bad intentions but be assured that if you are going to say a single word about El I will not hesitate to kill you and your entire group of minions.”

“That’s what you choose, Elena? A caveman and an android girl?”

“Yes. And I already told you that it is Joyce now.”

Owens shakes his head “I’m sorry I failed you. I must have been a very bad teacher if you ended up like that.”

“Like what? Caring? And loving? What do you think will happen when you destroy all the androids, uh? Do you really think you’ll be able to rule the entire galaxy? We need the androids, that’s why we built them in the first place! We just have to find a way to live together in peace. That’s why I left your stupid group, Owens! Because I think that we can live together.”

“She is still an android, as is the boy.” the man replies pointing at El.

“She is not an android. Not… totally.”

Owens' eyes get wider “What have you done?!”

But Joyce doesn’t answer “This is the deal, Owens: we help you win your fucking stupid war and you let us be on this little planet no one cares about. Do we have a deal?”

Eddie looks at both of them, Owens' blue eyes pinned on the little girl.

“Do. We. Have. A. Deal?” Joyce spells out slowly.

Finally, Owens nods “We have a deal.”

***

The next time S.T.E.V.E. wakes up is pure agony for everyone.

He screams all day, until his vocal chip overheats and stops working, but Eddie can’t really blame him.

The poor android can’t even cry and waking up in a metal body, still convinced that you are at home with your husband three hundred years before must not be easy.

El has stayed with him all day, trying to soothe him, but the poor boy is inconsolable.

“I think it will lose his mind.” Dustin says, looking at some diagrams on his computer “You see this? Two different types of cerebral waves run at the same time. This can’t be good for his psyche.” 

Eddie nods, then looks at Dustin “Can you research something for me?”

***

When Eddie gets in the room, S.T.E.V.E. is still tied to the table, the poor thing seems without strength.

“Hey big… Stevie.” he doesn’t want to cause another crash in the system.

The android doesn’t give a sign that he has seen him.

“I did some research about your lover boy. Quite a spitfire, uh?” he projects some image on the wall in front of the android “Billy Hargrove, rich family, bad father, activist for gay rights. This is him, right?”

The android nods slowly while Eddie keeps projecting images of a blond guy holding a flag and fighting the moral police.

“And this is you. Steve Harrington, offspring of Harrington’s family. A degree in engineering and physics and a famous model. Aren’t you full of surprises?”

The android moves his mouth to say something but his vocal cords are not working.

“He is asking about Billy.” El explains to Eddie.

Eddie stares at the android for a long moment, then sighs and sits next to him, holding his metal hand into his.

“I know this might sound difficult to understand and to accept, but the images we are looking at are almost three hundred years old. Those two boys… they are not here anymore.”

“M… me?” a hurtful word finally came out from the strained mouth of the android.

“Let me tell you a story, uh? A long long time ago, there was a beautiful prince who was deeply in love with another beautiful boy. They thought their love would last forever, but the prince got really sick. This brave prince wasn’t scared about himself, he was scared of leaving his husband alone, so he asked a wizard to make a copy of himself to leave to his husband.

The wizard made the copy for the prince, but he wasn’t a white wizard, he was a black one, so he took all he learned and started to make a copy of himself to rule the galaxy forever.

When the prince’s husband discovered what the prince had done he got mad: he wanted his husband, not a copy, but when the black wizard tried to get the copy back the prince’s husband understood that he wanted to do something bad to the prince's copy, so he made numerous other copies and hid the precious one. He hid the prince’s memory deep inside the copy’s mind to keep him safe.” Eddie caresses the android face “You were loved, Stevie. You were so loved that someone made an entire battalion of other copies to hide you and I’m very sorry that now everything is confused in your mind, that you have difficulties reconnecting these two lives you lived, but you are special. You always were and you always will be and we will do our best to help you.” he promises, while the plastic eyes are still fixed on the blond figure on the wall. 

“D…”

“Yeah. He is dead.” El replies to the mouthed question “But he lives in your memories.”

The android turns his eyes, his expression so full of despair that Eddie feels like crying.

"Sleep well, sweet prince." he whispers to him, before putting him mercifully on stand-by.

***

Weeks later Eddie is still hunted like a rabid dog, while S.T.E.V.E. is getting better. Physically at least.

They have found a new arm for him and some weight for his back so that he is balanced again, but mentally, he is a mess.

He is not aggressive or dangerous, he just sits in the repair room all day, staring at a wedding picture that he can project on the wall in front of him, with no expression.

If he was human, Eddie would say that he is deeply depressed.

But he is not a human. Or an android.

He hasn't figured out what he is and the orders are still effective on him, so when Dustin commands him to get out and move some steps to keep his joints oiled, the android obeys and then comes back to the repair room.

"We can't use him. He is too broken." Owens states, while they are having a little meeting to decide the best way to expose Dr. Brenner "We need the kid."

"We are not going to put a kid in danger!" Gareth objects, he lost two siblings in the past and is really sensible on the matter.

"You have to understand once and for all that she is not a kid!" Owens explains to them for the million time.

"You just called her a kid." Eddie smirks.

"Ok, we will use the little android, is that better? Think of the public opinion's reaction! Not only is she half human but she is also a kid. It will be devastating for Brenner's public image!"

"Joyce will never let you use El, so find another idea." Eddie replies, playing with a screwdriver. He has just made some little adjustments to S.T.E.V.E. while trying to make him talk but with no success.

Owens blurts out "We can't simply declare to the world that Brenner is an android, you know that, right? We need proof!"

But both their proofs are useless: one is a kid with a very protective mother, and the other is a depressed android, so no luck.

"I'll do it."

They turn toward the android.

The fake skin is full of scars, so far from the perfect body he had when Eddie saw him for the first time, his plastic eyes are a little bit clearer, but he still seems out of his mind.

"What did you say?"

"What, the kid didn't fix my vocal cord properly?" he snarls.

This is the boy he was, trying to work things out with the android he is now, but Eddie can't help being worried about him.

"Are you sure? We don't have a plan but whatever we do, it will be dangerous."

"If you think I'll let you drag a kid to some shit like that, you are deeply mistaken." he answers sternly "I'll do what the fuck you want me to, but keep the kid out."

Ownes gets closer to him, studying the android for a long time, then he offers him his hand "Stevie, welcome to the Hellfire."

Tag list: @shunna, @yourmom-isgay I hope you enjoy it!

#android AU #Wanted Criminal Eddie Munson #Android Steve Harrington #tumblr fic #myfanfic #steddie #au gust 2023 #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #writing challenge #medusapelagia #medusapelagia fanfic #my fanfic

[reidslovely]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend: Twenty Questions (Stressed Out Lately) Chapter 3

Authors Notes: This week has been very hard and deeply upsetting. I have taken my hurt and my anguish and put it in different places. I am using writing as a distraction, and a coping mechanism. For anyone needing an escape right now this is for you. I love you. 

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

Content Warning: Emotional cheating(ish), talks of injury- nothing too descriptive. Overall fluffy angst? I think that is all. 

Read Part Two Here

_______________________

“Last minute night shift, love you. Money for take out in the cookie jar.’ Read the bright yellow note stuck to the fridge. (Y/N) read it, her frame slumping against the fridge, the weight of the day and her anger hanging on her shoulders. A part of her wished her mom were here to talk but the other half knows if she were it would be (Y/N) apologizing to Peter. She knew she owed him one, her anger came from a dark place; one of abandonment and resentment. Peter didn’t deserve that, he talked to her and that alone should have been enough. He was happier now, or so it seemed- and maybe she reminded him of a time in his life he did not care to remember anymore. Whatever it was she didn’t want to hear it, at least that’s what she had to tell herself, what good would it do anyways?

Her homework was scattered across the wooden desk poorly painted a dark yellow, one of her and Peter’s last projects they had done together. Her mind flashed back to that week of break where the two altered spending nights at one another’s houses. She closed her eyes and slumped against her hand, suddenly she was back there.

“If you two get a drop of that on my good wood floor we are gonna have words!” Bella pointed at the two teenagers sprawled out on a tarp, a can of yellow paint sitting between them. (Y/N) laughed, something that she was certain did not assure her mother.

“It‘ll be fine mom, promise. Peter and I know what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, May and her have me watching a lot of HGTV.” Peter laughed as he dipped the paintbrush in the paint, not daring to look at his friend's mother.

Bella looked skeptical at the two, but she let them continue anyways. She left shutting the door on her way out. (Y/N) had smiled at Peter before starting on the other leg of the desk. After a while she had grown tired of the playlist, she had reached out, switching the playlist on her iPod. “I liked that song!” He detested, looking in faux anger. “Of course you would.” (Y/N) teased back, as she settled on something different and much slower.

“Not this!” Peter complained, throwing his head back. “Oh come on, we love this song.” (Y/N) laughed leaning into his starting to sing.

“Come up to meet you..tell you I’m sorry.” She sang her hand on his arm holding back a laugh as she looked at him, her eyes shining.

“You don’t know how lovely you are.” Peter sang back with a playful grudge in his voice. He continued to paint humming along with the song, giving in as the chorus started.  

(Y/N) slid her face close to his, her lips grazing his cheek as she sang Coldplay to him. Her eyes admired the side of his face, taking everything in about him, her stare not dropping as Peter turned to her his dorky smile plastered across his face. Their noses brushed, and for a minute everything around them stilled. (Y/N) looked in his eyes, her face feeling hot from the inside out her hand found it way down his forearm holding tight. Their lips almost touch, when in a moment of panic she moves back. Cold, and somewhat sticky feeling paint was smeared across her cheek. “Mature Parker, real mature.” She laughed, collecting it off her cheek, smearing it across his face.

Pulled out of the memory she opened her eyes glancing at the clock. She hadn’t been aware how long she had been stuck on doing her chemistry homework, who knew it could go from 7:30pm to 12 am so fast. She had slammed her book closed, rubbing her eyes red as she slid the book along with her other papers into the old backpack. Peter still lingered in the back for her mind, maybe she did owe him an apology. His sad puppy dog eyes were burned in the back of her head, as she remembered how she yelled at him. 

Fine then, tomorrow he would get his apology and that would be the end of it. (Y/N) adjusted the volume on the tiny tv sitting on her dresser, the news catching her eye before she switched the channel. A new video of Spiderman swinging through the rainy street playing on the TV. As New York’s hero aims for another building one of his webshooters fails to stick to the soaking surface causing him to skid at high speed against the concrete of the sidewalk. 

“Yikes.” (Y/N) grimaced, only imagining how awful his knee looked. She changed the channel landing on a rerun of an old 90’s show. She laid back in the bed, her blanket pulled up to her chin as she tiredly watched the show. Wanting to sleep the day off.

Tap…Tap…Tap. 

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows sitting up, reaching for the lamp. It takes a couple minutes before flickering on, filling the rainy room with a dull yellow light. 

Tap..TapTapTap

Finally she looked towards her window and the figure there shocked her. Sitting on the roof outside her window was Spiderman, his bloodied knee cap visible through the torn suit. 

“You mind opening? It’s storming out here y’know!” 

(Y/N) shook herself back to sanity pushing the window open letting the masked hero in. “Sorry, sorry.” She apologized helping him in, confusion clear on her face. The spider tilted his head at her in what seemed to be confusion, muttering a quick ‘Oh right’-  pulling off the mask. What she saw next confused her even more.

“Forgot I was wearing it.” Peter’s voice filled her ears, as (Y/N) stared at his face. A bruise already yellowing on his jaw, his lip busted. (Y/N)’s heart beat filled not only her own ears but Peter’s as well. He was stressing her out, and bleeding onto her floor. 

“So this was your explanation?” She asked her tone filled with shock and annoyance, what right did she have? Peter nodded looking at her with those sad puppy dog eyes, he opened his mouth to talk but she disappeared out of the room. (Y/N) walked into the bathroom leaving the door cracked open as she dug through the sink cabinet for the first aid box. 

Peter was Spiderman, he was New York's hero. Her anger that has previously subsided seemed so childish, so dumb; it wasn’t because of Gwen or boredom. Her knuckles turned white as she grasped the kit like it was going to fly from her grip. Peter sat with his knee propped on the arm of the chair looking at her as she walked in, his eyes softened seeing her, the pain still lingered on his face though.

“I saw the video..for a superhero who swigs daily- you ate absolute shit.” “You’re so kind to the wounded.” He grimaced as she poured alcohol on his knee. 

(Y/N) snickered, patting his kneecap dry hearing him hiss. “I’m sorry, sorry.”

“You didn’t need to do this, I heal really fast.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

Peter blew air out of his nose, watching her closely. (Y/N) shook her head laughing, getting off the ground walking to her dresser grabbing some of Peter’s old clothes he had left there. She tosses him the clothes, turning away from him, allowing him to change. She picked at the loose thread on her shirt, their presence and dynamic falling back into place after all the months apart. 

“Why didn't you go to Gwen?” The question was bound to come up, she turned around to face him pulling his leg across her lap as she sat down. 

“You were closest, but I owed you an explanation and what better way?” Peter laughs sadly, his eyes catching her face as she bandages his knee. Her tongue poked out of her mouth a bit as she focused on the ace bandage. Peter bends his knee, flexing it to make sure he has full range; he pulls (Y/N) off the ground smiling at her. His hands stayed on her arms, rubbing up and down slowly; (Y/N) looked up at him, her eyes soft as she tucked his hair behind his ears. “I need to lay down..mind?” 

He flops on her bed leaving room for her to come sit next to him, (Y/N) joins him tucking her leg under her as she admires him. 

“I am so sorry I left you. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Peter’s voice grew tender, his hand rubbing the top of her thigh comfortingly. She shook her head letting the tears bubble over onto her cheeks, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“It’s alright Pete.”

“It’s not, don’t do that it’s not there’s so much I missed. I left you, and I made you feel like I didn’t care. And I did, I cared so much that’s why I did it.” 

She rubbed the top of his hand tracing the scars that scattered across the back of his palm. “I needed to keep you safe. I couldn’t lose you, so I pushed you away. Bad guys can’t kill what they don’t know about.”

“They don’t know who you are under the mask Peter- there could have been a way. You kept Gwen close.”

She threw Gwen’s name out there again, unaware of the guilt that riddled Peter’s chest every time she said it. There was a part of him that chose Gwen, it was easier that way. 

“Gwen is stubborn, and I couldn’t be a total recluse.” The way he had worded it made it sound like he had chosen Gwen over her, and to an extent he had and even Peter can admit that. Peter rested his head against her knee looking up at her with his big brown eyes, (Y/N) frowned and ran her hand through his hair. 

“I’ve been really stressed out lately.” Peter whispers. “I forgot how much I needed you.”

(Y/N) smiled sadly, her thumb rubbing his cheek before dropping her hand. “I could never be me without you.” Peter whispers, closing his eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” “Same here Parker.” 

She sighed laying down next to him, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at him. Something changed in his eyes as he stared at her, his pupils dilated and his hand reached out to hold hers. It wasn’t unusual, her and Peter had always been touchy with each other. Especially when one was seeking comfort, like she assumed Peter was. 

“Twenty questions.” 

“Peter, we are too old for that game.”

“Fine, one question.” He propped himself up, holding himself over her face looking at her. “And you have to be completely honest with me and I don;t want you to freak out. Okay?”

(Y/N) felt unsettled, her stomach tightening as she nodded at him. 

“Of course Peter, anything.”

Peter sat up, crossing his legs over one another. Nervously he bit at the skin around his nails as he thought about how to phrase his question. (Y/N) felt nervous bile build up in her throat as she swallowed hard, trying to prepare for whatever is about to come out of his mouth.

“Do you love me?”

(Y/N) blinked rapidly, looking at Peter shocked by his question. Four and a half years of their friendship and her unrequited feelings pushing to the front of her mind. She sat up taking his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of his head again. 

“I have been in love with you for years..” She admits, the weight following off her shoulders. “Maybe even since the first day we met but it only took weeks and all I remember is hanging out with you at the skate park and it felt like I woke up. I looked at you and I saw everything, and I thought- eventually it would go away.” Once she started talking she couldn’t stop, she stared into his eyes as she confessed everything. “It never did, and to this day I love you, I like you, all of those sayings.”

Peter stares at her in awe, his feelings pooling at the tip of his tongue as he feels like his brain fries. He leans in, wanting to kiss her to put the fire out. To get her to shut up, to show her he felt the same way. Suddenly a hand pushes him back, her eyes looking into his. Her eyes calm, her demeanor changed much like his, having let the weight off both their shoulders.

“But as much as I love you. I can’t..I can’t let you ruin what you have with Gwen.” 

Peter’s body shifted as he remembered his girlfriend, who was probably waiting to hear he had made it home safe. He looked away, his heart speeding up and tears hitting his cheeks as the guit boiled to the surface. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around him pulling him in for a hug, his hands rubbing her back as he cried.

“I’ll always be here Peter. I’ll wait for as long as I can, I just want you to be happy.”

Peter didn’t kiss her, he pressed his nose to her temple holding her close as he lay with her. He wanted to lay here with her for as long as he could, he laid them both down moving hair from her face. 

“Can I stay the night? Nothing will happen, I just..”

“Of course Pete, just like old times.” She assured him as she pulled the blankets over them. Peter smiled and closed his eyes listening to her heartbeat, listening to her fall into her sleep. Peter grabbed his phone out of the pocket of the basketball shorts. 

‘I’m home, and I fixed it. I love you, I'll see you tomorrow.’

Gwen looked at her phone lightening up beside her in bed, she read the message a feeling of knowing washed over her. There was no anger, but there was peace with whatever happened, as long as Peter was happy. 

‘Love you too, bug boy, get some sleep.’

_______

tags because apparently they broke the first time

@helloheyhihowdyheya @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @andrews-lovr @adhdhufflepuff @thatsassyhufflepuff @megmehz @marrymetheonott @lateridk

#tasm peter x you #tasm andrew garfield #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x self insert #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #peter parker x you #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #the amazing spiderman x reader #tasm!peter imagine #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield spiderman x reader

[korereapers]

Title: Don't go wasting your emotion

Fandom: Persona series/Persona 4 (the Golden?)

Pairing: Tohru Adachi/Dojima Ryotaro

Rating: Ex-fucking-plicit

Tags: SPOILERS, unhealthy coping mechanisms, canon typical violence, manipulation...

It may not seem like it, but this is kind of a happy fic. God knows Adachi doesn't deserve it that much, but eh, I love fucked up characters and I am also a believer that people can actually be better. So. Yeah

AO3

Adachi has never been too fond of… well, intimacy.

It’s not that he had bad parents while growing up, like many therapists theorize. He gets calls from them from time to time, but he doesn't really answer or call back. What is there to say, anyways? They probably feel like they failed as parents, and Adachi is inclined to agree. He ruined his own life, his job. And that was even before he murdered two people. He would laugh if he even found it funny anymore.

What a pain…

So, yeah, it's not that he had an especially hard life growing up. A regular kid, a smart one, top of his class, not too good at socializing. Increasingly good at pretending to be, while never getting too close at anyone.

"You're zoning out."

Dojima's voice is music for his ears, and he feels his lips tugging upwards. It's not happy, but it's… pleasant. That's a step, he guesses.

"Ah… sorry. You know how it is. I get distracted sometimes."

Dojima raises his eyebrow, disbelief in his features. He knows by now. He knows him, after all this time.

It has been seven years. Seven long years in which Adachi found even a duller place than Inaba. Calmer, too, in a way. He didn’t have to pretend anymore back then, didn’t have to deal with almost anyone, and that was fine by him.

Jail was a blessing, in some ways. 

“I don’t think anyone could get distracted while someone’s sucking their cock.”

Adachi’s lips turn upwards, in a small smile that Dojima easily recognizes. He has seen enough of these while he was visiting him back in prison.

“Is that what your detective intuition is telling you? Didn’t work that well last time.”

It’s such an obvious taunt, and yet, Dojima has to swallow his anger, knowing pretty well that the feeling will become more gray hairs, and maybe some muscular pain. He has gotten better at dealing with it, and he knows what Adachi is doing.

He cannot allow it.

“I thought you were long done with this game.”

The words are murmured against Adachi’s erection, and he can feel him tremble in arousal. Still, his eyes are blank when he looks at him, almost lifeless. He is good at this, at pretending, at putting a wall between him and the whole world.

“Aw. But I’m never really done playing, Dojima-san.”

Dojima’s smile is bitter, almost a little sad. There is still some fire in his dark eyes, though. He has known this man for years now. He knows how he works. He knows what he doesn’t want Dojima to see, what he wants to hide from the world.

“I am, though.”

And before Adachi can utter a single word, his mouth goes back to him, a calloused hand encircling him gently but solidly. He tastes him with his tongue, his gut burning when he hears the sound Adachi makes, when he feels his cock twitch against his palm.

“That’s… that’s not fair.”

A part of him becomes childish when Dojima plays dirty. It’s a dynamic they both recognize. It might have filled Adachi with anger and resentment, back in the day, but it was safer. Known. A painful solace in a world going to hell.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Adachi’s eyes are piercing. It’s a miracle he didn’t notice, back in the day. They drill into him, clever and calculating, a timebomb ticking behind them. Maybe he is that good of an actor. Maybe…

“I thought I understood you. And yet you keep surprising me. Again and again.”

Dojima looks up, facing him. He doesn’t stop licking him, keeping him interested, the touch so light Adachi can only pant in frustration. He used to do this to Dojima, back in the day. Never truly wanted him to reciprocate, for reasons that now he understands. He doesn’t allow himself to be vulnerable, but Dojima has other plans.

“Is it that hard to understand? You’re dear to me.”

That’s when Adachi snaps, so suddenly that Dojima does get surprised. His tantrums come and go quickly, like a bored child, like an emotionally stunted one, incapable of dealing with his own emotions. Not that Dojima can say anything about the matter.

“I fucking killed two people. I could have killed more. I almost got Nanako dead, for God’s sake!”

That does sting. He feels tempted to punch him, right in the face, to break his nose, maybe split his lip. Make him bleed, make him pay.

“I made your life hell!”

That’s when Dojima stops. He stops, his body moving so quickly that Adachi does recoil, like in the old times, instinctively. That’s a man that doesn’t fear pain, and still…

Luckily for him, Dojima doesn’t hit him. His hands are on Adachi’s cheeks, keeping him close, breathing so angrily that he swears Adachi can taste it in the air.

“That’s it. That’s the Dojima I-”

But Dojima doesn’t allow him to continue. He stops his venom with his own lips, the kiss less and less angry, a thumb brushing against Adachi’s face, making his eyes show a hint of something. Something that’s not bitterness, or anger, or disgust. Something as true as any other part of him.

“You…” he murmurs against Dojima’s lips, and he swears that his voice is shaking. “You did it again… I severed this connection to you, and still…”

“You’re dear to me,” Dojima repeats, as if talking with an extremely difficult child. “You are dear to Nanako. You are family. I…”

Dojima has never been good at this shit. What is he going to say, anyway? That he loves him? That the feeling that burns inside of him, that threatens to make him explode, is the purest form of love? That he saw guilt in Adachi’s eyes, all of those years ago, even if it was only for a brief moment? Even if it was not for the victims and it was for him. And fuck it all, Dojima has always been a selfish prick. He would run to Hell itself only to be able to take his hand and save Adachi from his own misery. He already has.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. You keep coming back to me. You keep pulling me close… I…”

“I want you,” Dojima manages to say, a knot in his throat. “I want you, with me. Call me selfish, but I will never give up on you. Never.”

Adachi's grin trembles, a crack in his façade.

"That's not very smart, sir."

Dojima sighs against his lips, his hands cupping the back of Adachi's head, feeling his hair, strangely better kept after prison. Maybe he had finally started eating more. Maybe, for once, he could afford it.

"I don't give a shit."

The futon moves when Adachi shakes in place. Never too brave, not in front of the undeniable truth. He makes a sound when Dojima gets closer, and for a man so obsessed with lust, he can barely react to even the smallest amount of care.

"Why… why don't I just suck you off and-"

"Dammit, Adachi. Just let me do this."

The desire is clearly there, but there is also fear. Fear that Dojima sees him, the real him, under all of his layers. Finally, after all of these years.

"I know what you did. And you didn't do it for my nephew."

Adachi gulps, his eyes on Dojima's lips as he speaks.

"I know you were terrified for Nanako. I know you were worried about me."

"I never…"

"You cannot lie that well. I cannot deny all the bad. But I cannot deny the good either."

Adachi kisses him. If it's to silence him, or out of genuine feelings, Dojima doesn't know. Maybe a bit of both. He kisses him, and Dojima feels dizzy. They might be naked, but this is the first time Dojima feels that something truly intimate is happening.

"You do not want… what I can offer you."

"I do." Dojima answers, and damn, he is being honest. Yeah, he knows, he knows this is unreasonable and outright mad. But he wants it, he wants him, every nook and cranny, every dark bit, every lighter one.

"You can't save me," Adachi insists, his voice broken, "I am beyond that. I'm sure you've read the reports, and you have no idea of what I can-"

"Shut. The fuck. Up," he groans, and Adachi's eyes shine in something like recognition. Bad habits die hard. "I may not be able to save you. But I can at least try to be fucking supportive while you learn to save yourself."

Adachi blinks, and Dojima realizes, his eyes are a little wet. No matter the shit he has done, his actual age… he still behaves like an overgrown child, sometimes.

"I can destroy your life. I already did it once."

The insistence is almost endearing, but Dojima knows him better by now. He recognizes desperation when he sees it. And Adachi is currently reeking of it.

Dojima lowers his voice, speaking slowly, as if trying to make himself clear.

"First of all… no, you didn't. Second…" and he speaks with a small smile on his lips, "try."

Adachi seems surprised at his display of bravery. Cowards, both of them, unable to face their reality, their true feelings. Either always running away, or letting themselves sink with his darkest desires. Adachi's lips curl upwards, clearly amused.

"Didn't know you had it in you."

"I'm full of surprises."

But Adachi's smile turns less sinister, goofier. A middle ground between both sides of him. Dojima cannot have enough of it.

"Okay… okay."

"Good."

Acceptance is more than good enough. Adachi seems to surrender, and Dojima takes that as a cue to keep going.

Dojima's mouth doesn't go back to him. Not yet. He pumps him with his hand after spitting on the palm. Adachi's ears become redder, his arousal so obvious it makes Dojima's head spin.

That’s when he tries something, the words burning in his throat before he even dares to say them.

"You are loved. Whether you like it or not."

Adachi's eye twitches, the words making him clearly nervous. He wasn’t expecting that.

Good.

"Loved?"

"Deal with it."

A pause. And then-

"You? Love me?"

"Shut up. Don't make me repeat myself."

Adachi lets out a snort, and Dojima sees the headache coming yet again.

"Little old me? Aw…"

"If only you didn't hide behind that wall of yours, rookie…"

Adachi's smile turns sad.

"Not a rookie anymore…"

Dojima doesn't give a flying fuck. They may be older, more tired. Adachi may have been a deceiving piece of crap, but he is still that man, young and nervous, that entered his office one day after being transferred. The man who got his coffee right, only when it really mattered. The man who stayed when everything seemed lost. No murder can change that. Nothing can change his affection. Absolutely nothing.

"Still deserving of love."

Adachi says nothing, the gears behind his clever eyes working efficiently, but probably not enough. This doesn't really have a logical standpoint, after all. Nothing smart about it. Nothing Adachi can analyze from that cynical perspective of his.

"No need to overthink it. Just accept it as it is."

There is still some shadow of suspicion and disbelief in Adachi's dark eyes, but Dojima guesses that's more than good enough. Good things come for those who wait. And he might be getting older but… maybe even because of that, he can wait as long as needed.

"What about Chisato?"

The question is not meant to be cruel, and Dojima faces it as such. He sighs, his grip tighter on Adachi's cock, making him squirm.

"You sure make a handjob harder…"

Adachi laughs a second before Dojima realizes his own pun, and he groans deeply. Not deep enough to avoid the question, though.

"I will always love her. You know that."

Adachi grimaces, and Dojima swears he sees a glimpse of jealousy behind his eyes. But then, the feeling disappears from Adachi's eyes, almost expertly. Dojima cannot allow him to dodge the conversation.

"That doesn't mean that what I feel for you is any less important."

Adachi furrows his brow, finally sighing after a couple of seconds.

"Okay. I get it."

He looks convinced, even if still kind of annoyed. Dojima remembers how he stayed while he and Nanako were in the hospital, how he was genuinely worried about the little girl, how he almost didn't sleep to ensure Dojima was resting. He might be a piece of shit, but he cares about them. About Souji, too, even if he would rather die than to admit it.

Adachi fears the fragility of their link. That Dojima will sever it one day, like he did back in the day, either because of the memory of Chisato, or because he finally realizes he isn't worth it. Even if Dojima thinks he is. Even if this, having him under his body, naked and flushed, is everything he would have ever wanted. Even if he hasn't been happier in ages.

"Don't look at me like that," Adachi says, almost pouting. "You look like a romantic fool."

Dojima can only laugh at that.

"Aren't I, though?"

Adachi rolls his eyes at that, pulling him closer. He kisses him, mouth against mouth, breaths entwined. Until Dojima groans, taking him again into his hand.

"That's it…" Adachi mutters against his lips. There is a smile forming there, and no matter how dominant, Dojima finds himself liking it nevertheless. "I have been thinking about this for years."

That does make Dojima shudder, holding him closer.

"You have?"

Adachi lets out a small chuckle.

"Of course I have. In different ways… that I will show you in due time."

Dojima feels himself blushing like a teenager, burying his face into Adachi's shoulder. This time, the laugh is louder, and Dojima groans in frustration.

"And I haven't even told you how and when I want you to fuck me… oops."

His words go straight to Dojima's groin, making him moan, even if Adachi isn't really touching him. He got it bad… he really got it bad.

"Shut up…" Dojima complains, quickening the pace of his hand, effectively shutting Adachi's mouth. Or not, because that breathy giggle is nothing but annoying… and strangely endearing.

He licks a trail of sweat on Adachi's neck, and that and the constant attention to his cock seems to do wonders for a man that hasn't been touched in years.

"This is… kind of pathetic." Adachi mutters after a strangled moan.

"You're not," Dojima reminds him, out of habit. "We are still getting used to this."

He swears Adachi wants to say something, the words somewhere in his throat, but he doesn't. He just keeps him close while Dojima pumps him, and Dojima makes sure to watch him, every expression, every way his face and body contorts when Dojima does something particularly nice. Every sound. He puts it all in a small treasure chest in a corner of his mind, secret and yet accessible. This is the Adachi he wants to remember. This is whom he wants to keep from feeling lonely again.

Adachi moans his name, and Dojima has to try hard to relax and not to come, the soft spasms and ragged breaths making Adachi's orgasm even more beautiful. He has dreamed about this, he is sure. But nothing could ever come close to reality.

Adachi bends his head backwards, a tired laugh coming from his mouth. He seems to be amused, and genuinely… happy. Dojima kisses his temple, and Adachi complains wordlessly, more out of habit than anything. Still not used to genuine affection.

"You… you know I'm a piece of shit, aren't I?" Comes the question, with no real bitterness behind it. Just matter-of-factly. His expression so incredulous it would be funny, except it’s not. It's Dojima's time to roll his eyes.

"Yeah. But you're my piece of shit, and I still believe in you."

Adachi keeps him close, not trying to avoid his contact, which seems like an improvement.

"Figures… But. I still have so much in mind, Dojima-san…"

Dojima raises an eyebrow, feeling the itch of a well needed smoke in the back of his brain. He thinks about how Adachi will surely light his cigarette as soon as he manages to put it in his mouth, and the lingering memory makes him smile.

"About?"

Adachi's smile looks downright mischievous. The kind of mischief that could make a series of murders out of pure boredom… and also the kind that could make Dojima harder only by thinking what he has thought for him. What that clever tongue can do and say to him to make him lose his mind.

"Oh, but I'm not going to ruin the surprise, aren't I?"

Dojima gulps, nervous and eager. He really has it bad, doesn't he?

He feels the smile on the corner of his lips, a clever tongue and teeth that grind against his skin a little too hard. Downwards, slowly, but still impatiently.

Dojima sighs, his fingers playing with Adachi’s hair. It’s going to be a long, long night.

#persona series #persona #persona 4 #p4 #my stuff #p4 spoilers #adajima #tohru adachi #ryotaro dojima #MORE THAN 10 YEARS LATER I WRITE A FIC ABOUT THEM F-

[britneyshakespeare]

man it really bothers me when ppl who know pretty much nothing about me call me pretty. it’s like yeah what does it fucking matter.

#one of my girls at my job has some... problems in common i dealt w as a kid #im thinkin about it #tales from diana #man. kids who call other kids fat. shut the fuck up #they should NOT be raised to think unsolicitedly commenting on ppl's bodies is acceptable. #not to like. call myself gorgeous or smth but puberty treated me well. compared to what i got as a child. #and im generally used to it now. in a weird way. i dont value my appearance but im aware of how im perceived. #i can very much tell when im being treated like a Pretty Girl wo the person having to say outright 'youre pretty' #usually when it comes out im like 'yeah. i know *you* think im pretty' and i think abt it all the time bc. how devastating would that be #for a man to hear. pretty sure it would make one disintegrate. #this that beat that make ya bump ya bump oooh i give ya whatcha want #yeah i resent hearing almost anyone tell me what *they* think *i* look like. to the point where my mom kinda teases me for it #and i really don't like it. #ppl who know me well. will precede their compliment on my appearance w a disclaimer like 'and i know u wont really appreciate it but...' #that's how you know i appreciate it. when you know i won't appreciate it. #it's like wow. you're signaling you actually value my opinions and feelings beyond your own perception of them? that makes it ok #but u'd have to know me on a deeper level to know my ambivalence to certain kinds of 'kind' comments. bc obviously i dont just snap at ppl #anyway that doesn't really matter. i don't like any compliments that are delivered like the complimenter is doing you a favor. or whatever #and usually when ppl try to make you feel attractive that's what they're doing.

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can���t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

#the old guard #tog #tog fanfiction #tog meta #immortal family #nile freeman #mine #damn look at me contributing to a fandom! that’s new #pls reblog if you like this my self esteem could really use it #I just love nile so much and I’m being the nile-centric content I want to see in the world #it is just genuinely nuts to think abt how this situation would be perceived by anyone outside the narrative #she just mysteriously heals from a fatal injury and then VANISHES!!! this should be national fuckin news #also I do think there’s a major hole in the story when you think abt social media #like the only time it’s even hinted at is right at the very beginning when Andy erases that girl’s selfie #and the concept of fuckin Reddit is not even brought up despite Copley’s stalker board being analog Reddit #there’s just a lot of places one could go with this which is very much what we got here #1k

[fallinfl0wers]

hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!

Literally baby-sized trouble.

summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><

Diluc

He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.

Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.

He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.

But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.

After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.

Very supportive and very protective!

You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.

If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><

He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><

You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.

But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(

He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3

But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.

You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...

He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;

So you two will have to think about a name again!

In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!

Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!

He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...

But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.

But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.

At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.

He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.

What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.

All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.

However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.

Scaramouche

He thought you were joking, so he laughed.

When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.

He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."

Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...

This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.

He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.

It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-

It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.

He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.

Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.

Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.

But...

"Now what?"

He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.

He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.

But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!

Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!

Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.

And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.

It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.

And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.

Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.

(Her first word was "papa!")

Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!

Kazuha

"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."

So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!

Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!

Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.

He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!

That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!

He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!

He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!

He's still a bit worried, though.

He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...

He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.

But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.

You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><

He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!

"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.

While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.

He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!

He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!

Xiao

You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.

It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.

So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.

"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.

It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.

He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(

Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.

He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.

Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.

He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.

He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.

Okay so that aside-

How do people care for babies?

What is he exactly supposed to do?

And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?

He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.

Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.

Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.

He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.

He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.

Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.

When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.

He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--

He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.

He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...

The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.

The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.

And he cries more.

You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!

Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.

But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.

Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.

Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.

The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.

The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.

His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.

#diluc x reader #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #melodywritings #melwritesgenshin #tw: children #tw: pregnancy

[messers-moony]

Wish | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at the age of 26 instead of 13

He was angry, that wasn’t mistaken, “ You aren’t listening to me! “

“ Are you hearing yourself?! What you’re about to do is dangerous! “ She yelled in response, and he scoffed.

They stood in the main room of their apartment. Y/n was placed in the kitchen leaning on the island while Five was dangerously close to the door. Both of them at the age of twenty-five. They had gotten married only a year before finding each other during one of his trips to Griddy’s with his siblings. He thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Five stalked closer to her, “ You are so stubborn. “

“ I am the strongest one. “ His voice was dangerously low as they stood only a foot apart, “ I will do this. I don’t care what you say. Nothing will change that. “

“ Five, please. “ Y/n begged, “ I’m- I’m just worried about you. “

“ You don’t need to be. “ Five snapped, and he fast-walked to the door.

The male swung open the door, “ Five wait, please- “ But before she could finish, the door slammed, “ I’m pregnant. “

It was new news. She didn’t find out until a week earlier. She didn’t know when to tell him; there never was a suitable time. Now he had just threatened to fulfill a lifetime goal of his– time travel. Since he was a boy, he’s wanted to prove his worth. The only way Five could think to do that is by time-traveling into the future. He didn’t know what the future would entail. He definitely didn’t plan to get stuck in an apocalypse.

So for nine torturous months, Y/n endured a pregnancy. She was carrying a child of her presumed to be dead husband, which she didn’t believe in the slightest. Five Hargreeves was alive, and she knew that regardless of what anyone told her. She had a baby boy who she named Malachi. The same bright, alluring green as his fathers.

Despite his birth father not being around, Diego was a significant help. Diego stepped in where Five couldn’t. He was there for all of Malachi’s firsts and everything in between. But he was always Uncle Diego. A constant reminder that this man wasn’t his father. As far as the little boy knew, he didn’t have a father.

Things got more tricky as he got older. Malachi realized that a father figure was more common than not, which brought raising questions. She answered to the best of her abilities, but nothing was ever valid. None of her answers could be a hundred percent true because she didn’t know either. It was killing her to see her son this way.

He longed for a father. Wanted nothing more for a father-son relationship. Every birthday, every Christmas, he wished for his father to come home. It was killing Y/n because she understood his pain. The amount of dread, guilt, and sadness.

Maybe if she had told Five sooner, he would’ve never left. The guilt ate away at her. It was like an insect slowly crawling its way under her skin into her bones and nibbling them until they were gone. It didn’t help Malachi was an exact replica of his father. The dark, almost raven hair parted to the side, the glittering green eyes and a defined face.

No matter how long Five was gone, Y/n never took off her rings. She was a married woman until proven otherwise. Malachi had never even seen photos of his father. That was normal to him. All he knew was that his Uncles and Aunts told him he looked the exact same. Despite the same appearances, they had clashing personalities.

Malachi was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Kind no matter who the person was. Wise beyond his years and intelligent like no other. His strong suit was English while he struggled in math. The irony was amusing. His father excelled in math, but he couldn’t do a two-step equation if he tried.

In the grand scheme of things, this didn’t matter. He got all the way up to high school. He was seventeen, to be exact, in his junior year of school. It was the summer before his senior year, and he couldn’t be more excited. As the years went on, the hope of meeting his father diminished to the point where he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He had his mom, and that’s all that mattered. His mom was his rock, his number one supporter, and his best friend. Malachi loved his mom more than anything and would give anything to keep her safe. Diego had grown to be like a father to him, but it was never the same. Malachi was sitting at the island doing homework while Y/n was cooking.

“ Hey, mom? “ He called, “ Yeah? “ Y/n turned to look at her son.

Malachi fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, “ Can I- Can I see your rings? “

“ My rings? Why? “ She asked, “ Well, dad gave them to you, didn’t he? “ Malachi replied.

Y/n nodded, “ Of course he did. We were married, technically we still are married. “

“ I just wanted to see what dad gave you. “ He murmured.

Hesitantly Y/n twisted both her engagement ring and her wedding ring off her left ring finger. She set them down on the granite island before her son so he could look at them. Gently he picked the engagement ring up and looked at it. It was the only time he’s ever seen the ring this close. She never took them off.

“ We got engaged in the snow. “ Y/n informed quietly, “ I really wasn’t expecting it. He never seemed like one to settle down. “

Malachi listened intently, “ Regardless. It was almost Christmas, and he took me to go Christmas shopping at one of the malls which was outside. “ She chuckled, “ Why he did that, I don’t know, but it was amusing. We got hot chocolate despite his love for coffee, and I made him wear a Santa hat. “

“ He was never into festivities before meeting me. Neither were your Aunts and Uncles. I started making holidays become more festive when you were born. Eventually, they got the hang of it. “ Y/n continued, “ Why was dad's name a number? “ He interjected.

“ He never got a name like the rest of his siblings. “ She answered plainly, “ Why? “

Y/n sighed, “ His father, more specifically your grandfather was a cruel man. Still is a very cruel man, which is why you’ve never met him. Reginald made the Umbrella Academy, where he adopted your dad along with his other siblings. “ She explained, “ They endured long days of training without breaks and horrid living environments. They were treated as experiments rather than children. “

“ They all got names, but Five didn’t want one. He rejected it because it didn’t matter. Name or anything. Their numbers would always define them, and Five was the only one who understood that. “ She finished.

“ What really happened to him? I know you’ve given me vague explanations, but I think I’m ready for the real thing. “ Malachi stated, “ I’m seventeen now. “

“ I know. Your father had powers. His others siblings do as well. They all do certain things. Five could travel through space and time. “ Y/n began, “ Growing up, he always felt the need to prove himself, to be better than everyone else. “

“ So, one day, he told me he was going to time travel. It was a big argument that definitely didn’t need to happen. At the time, I was a week pregnant with you, and I didn’t know how to tell him. “ She swallowed the emotions arising after remembering Five’s glare,

“ When I told him, it was too late. He was already out the door and gone. “

Y/n walked forward and took the rings back. She placed them back on her ring finger carefully as her son watched every movement. He knew she was upset. Malachi couldn’t help but be a bit resentful towards his father. All this to make a point? It seemed far-fetched.

“ That solution seems a bit absurd. “ Malachi commented, “ That's what I was trying to tell him, but he was very prideful and stubborn. “ Y/n replied.

A knock echoed through the apartment. The room felt tense. It wasn’t right; something felt off. Malachi felt it immediately cause he stood up and began walking to the door, wanting to protect his mother if a threat was there. Secretly Diego may have given him some defense classes, but that didn’t matter.

The boy opened the door to see almost the exact same face staring back at him, “ Who are you? “ Malachi snapped.

“ More importantly, who are you? “ The man retorted.

Every hair on Y/n’s body stood up. She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. It was him. He was back. It took everything inside her not to scream or cry but seeing Malachi hold his defensive stance against his own father was worrying her.

“ Malachi. “ She called, and he turned to her as she began to walk to the door, “ I need you to go to your room and promise not to eavesdrop. “

He wanted to protest, “ Please, sweet. I’ll be okay. I promise. “

Reluctantly Malachi backed away from the door giving the man a harsh glare that made the man evidently tense. Y/n waited for Malachi to be fully retreated in his bedroom before looking at the man in front of her.

“ Well. It looks like you’ve moved on. “ Five murmured, “ No- please. It isn’t what it looked like. “ She pleaded.

Her hand took his, and he recognized the rings on her finger. The same rings Malachi had just been examining. The same rings he took months to search for to find the perfect fit for his perfect girl. Everything seemed so colorful in his greyscale world now. His wife was still his.

“ Who- Who is he? “ His voice trembled as his lingering suspicion felt more accurate than ever, “ Come in and sit. We need to talk. “ Her voice was gentle and held no malice.

Five entered the now unrecognizable apartment. It wasn’t the same as when he left. In fact, everything seemed moved out of place. Y/n walked to the stove and turned off the burner that she was using. Five had peered at the papers on the island that were math worksheets and took a seat beside them.

“ Where did you go? “ She asked, “ The future. “

“ No shit. What did it look like? “ Y/n retorted playfully, “ It’s not as I hoped. It’s an apocalypse, love. “ His voice held so much pent emotion it was almost radiating off him.

She sighed, “ Okay. We need to talk about that- “

“ I- I want to know who that kid is. “ Five interrupted, and she gave him a knowing look, “ Malachi, can you come out here. “ Y/n called, and instantly he was out of his room.

The boy stood beside his mom, still not comfortable with the unfamiliar man. This time Five got a chance to really look at the teenage boy in front of him. The defined face, the almost raven hair, the same sage green eyes. His posture was protective and territorial, obviously for his mom.

“ Y/n… “ Five began as he swallowed the tears in his throat, “ Is- Is he mine? “

She nodded, “ Five Hargreeves, I’d like you to meet your son, Malachi Hargreeves. Malachi, I’d like you to meet your father, Five. “

#five hargreeves x y/n #five fluff #five fanfiction #five x y/n #five hargreeves fluff #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #five x reader #number five x you #number five x y/n #number five x reader #number five #tua netflix #tua memes #tua fanfic #tua au #tua five #tua x reader #the sparrow academy #the umbrella academy

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom 

Word Count: 8.2k

           I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

           Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

           Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

           It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

           To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

           I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

           “He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

           By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

           “Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

           And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

           Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

           “How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

           “I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

           He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

           “Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

           I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

           “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

           “Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

           Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

           “I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

           “N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

           And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

--

           Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

           In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

           The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

           After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

           I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

           Until today.

           “Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

           I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

           Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

           “Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

           “Why? Is there a problem?”

           Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

           “No, but I just think that-”

           “Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

           Right.

           I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

           Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

           But not to me – no, never to me.

           “Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

           After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

           “Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

           “… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

           I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated  groan.

           After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

           After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

           I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

           Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

           I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

--

           As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

           Or so I thought.

           I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

           And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

           “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

           “Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

           “Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

           “I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

           “C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

           “Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

           “You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

           “I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

           “Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

           Oh, fuck no.

           I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

           My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

           “What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

           “Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

           Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

           By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

           “You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

           I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

           “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

           I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

           Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

           “Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

           Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

--

           I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

           He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

           “I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

           “Oh. O-Okay.”

           And that was that.

           It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

           The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

           I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.  

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

           “D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

           “S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

           I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

           “Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

           I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

           “Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

           Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

           “You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

           “Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

           I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

           “Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

           I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

           Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

           “I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

           “Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?”            “N-No, Miss.”

           “Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

           “B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

           “Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

           Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

           “I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

           Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

           “Color?”

           “G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

           “Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

           “Tolstoy.”

           “Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

           A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

           “O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

           “You okay, baby?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

           My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

           “Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

           By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

           I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

           “T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

           “You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

           I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

           Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

           A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

           “Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

           “S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

           “Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

           “Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

           “Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

           “N-No, it’s just-”

           I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

           “No, it isn’t good enough?”

           Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

           “P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

           Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

           “Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

           That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

           “W-Why did yo-”

           “You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

           “S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

           Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

           “You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

           “Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

           “S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

           “Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

           “H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

           “Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

           “Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

           “Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

           While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

           “I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

           I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

           “Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

           With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

           “Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

           His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

           “Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

           “Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

           “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me. 

           “Y/N - fuck!”

           Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

             I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

           “C-Can you stay? Please?”

           The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

           “Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

           “Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

           “Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

           “What is it, baby?”

           A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

           “Can I kiss you?”

           After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

           My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

           “I have another question,” he says shyly.

           “Lay it on me, baby.”

           The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

           “It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

           Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

           “First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

           “Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

--

           And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #dom/sub #sub spence

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt day hurray! What does BaXia think of ChenQing? They would have crossed paths in the war, right? What do all the other weapons and instruments think of WWX apparently setting aside SuiBian for ChenQing? Can THEY tell he's got no golden core?

ao3

You seem kind of evil, Baxia remarked when she first met the flute.

Yeah? The flute responded without first bothering to extend her perceptive aura out to see who was talking to her, sounding like a little punk, arrogant and bold. Well, you seem kind of – oh fuck oh fuck you’re terrifying!

This was true. Baxia was terrifying.

Please don’t destroy me! My master needs me!

Baxia said nothing, enjoying how the flute squirmed, and nudged her own master pointedly.

Do not destroy the flute, her master responded with a sigh. He knew Baxia well. Her master is on our side.

Truly, war made for strange bedfellows. Baxia mourned the loss of the easy, straightforward night-hunt.

She nudged her master again.

Yes, fine, you can chase.

Her master - loving, wonderful, understanding master that he was - very casually walked across the room, unhooked her from his back, and put her down next to where the flute was hanging off her master's belt.

Chase, Baxia said happily, the aura of her power already spreading beyond the confines of her blade. Chase, chase, chase –

Someone help meeeeeee!

-

You’re kind of a dick, Chenqing said, having finally realized that Baxia had no intention of destroying her incipient spiritual soul. Anyone ever tell you that?

Yes.

…really? Who dared?

My master.

Your master is badass. Chenqing contemplated for a moment. So is mine, he's very brave, even suicidally brave, but not – you know – that much.

Baxia considered this, and accepted it. Her master was indeed a superior sort of human.

Why do you smell of death? she asked, mildly curious.

My master uses me to direct resentful energy, so I’m affected by its aura. You?

I bathe in it.

…you're so badass.

Yes. Baxia was.

You’re not bad, she told Chenqing, which almost predictably got a little huffy.

I raise armies of the dead! I am terrifying! They call me the phantom flute! I am more than 'not bad', okay?!

Baxia ignored Chenqing's nonsense. It would not take long for her to realize that being called ‘not bad’ by Baxia was a very high compliment, as such things went.

-

Are there any swords that aren’t afraid of you? Chenqing asked. She was very chatty. Or sabers. Or musical instruments…

Which musical instruments have you met?

Uh, mostly Wangji? Wangji’s cool.

Baxia occasionally wished for eyes so that she could roll them. Her human got a great deal of relief out of doing that, according to him. Wangji has a temperament of ice, yes.

No, I mean, that’s not what I meant, I – wait. Are you making a joke right now?

Baxia said nothing.

You have a sense of humor?!

Baxia said nothing.

This is ridiculous. It’s like meeting a hurricane with sharp teeth and finding out it also likes to sing bawdy brothel songs.

You’re kind of stupid, Baxia observed.

Well, yeah. I mean. Have you met my master?

Baxia had.

He’s only scary by accident, Chenqing said ruthlessly, which was only to be expected – no one dunked on a human like their spiritual weapon. Inside, he’s a big soft squishy meatball.

My master cries when he has feelings.

My master too! Humans, am I right?

Baxia supposed Chenqing was, in fact, right.

Perhaps she could stay.

-

It’s not that I don’t appreciate everything Wei Wuxian is doing for us, Baxia's master remarked to her one day. But didn’t he have a sword at one point? The one with the ridiculous name – Suibian.

At the next meeting, Baxia asked.

Suibian? Yeah, master doesn’t use him anymore, Chenqing said. It's a bit sad, actually. He can’t access the spiritual energy in the blade anymore.

Baxia didn’t like the sound of that. How come?

Master doesn’t have a golden core, Chenqing said. I think he used to, but he doesn’t anymore.

Seems careless.

Hey, I’m pretty sure it’s not his fault! Anyway, it’s a whole big secret. Why do you ask?

My master wanted to know.

Hah, Chenqing said. Nice of you to ask on his behalf, since you can’t tell him what the result of your question was.

Baxia said nothing.

You – can’t. Right? Masters can’t hear what swords say.

I, Baxia said, am not a sword.

…oh shit. Shit, no, you can’t –!

-

“We need to talk,” Baxia’s master said to Chenqing’s. “In private.”

You’re a rotten tattletale, Chenqing said.

Why do you care? He won’t know it was you that squealed.

Yeah, well, I know that I did it!

It’s for the best. My master will be nice about it, and your master will feel better for it. Baxia considered. There may be tears.

There were many tears.

Master really does seem like he feels better, Chenqing observed. I wouldn’t have called that.

Told you so.

-

So, Chenqing said. This hunt is probably the last time we’ll be able to hang out.

Probably, Baxia agreed.

I was hoping to ask for some advice.

Bichen is amendable to your flirting, and Wangji follows where she leads, so you have a shot.

I – what? That wasn’t what I was going to ask.

Baxia waited.

…wait, are you serious? Will that work? I could do that –

-

The flute’s an idiot, Baxia told her master. But maybe she and that master of hers can help you here.

It would be inappropriate for me to ask, her master said, rubbing his eyes. The Jiang sect kicked him out, remember? It would be stepping on their face to approach him despite that.

Okay, Baxia said. So step.

Baxia…

You share a secret with him, at his request, she pointed out. He owes you for keeping it secret for him. At minimum, even if he can’t help you right now, he can help protect your brother when you’re gone.

Her master was silent. That was his weak spot, and had always been.

No one would be able to know, he finally said. And Meng Yao comes every week.

Is our home so small that we can’t hide someone from Meng Yao’s sight? Baxia said scathingly. Since when is he the master here, not you?

I just meant that he’s a sneak that’d sell me out to his father given half a chance, her master sighed. All right, I’ll see if there’s anything that can be done. Wei Wuxian is a musical cultivator, and a genius; maybe he can tell me why Clarity doesn’t seem to be having the impact we hoped it would.

Sure, Baxia said. Whatever. I don't really care. Just get help.

-

Well, that worked, Baxia said to Chenqing. Sort of.

How are you this badass? You just -! Singlehandedly -! I can’t – how?!

Calm down, Baxia advised. What are you, human?

How dare you.

You’re the one acting like you need air to speak.

…so I’m looking forward to seeing the Lotus Pier again now that we're not banished any more, Chenqing said, pointedly changing the subject because she was wrong and she knew it. Thanks for that.

Thanks for figuring out that the evil meat was poisoning my master.

That’s. uh. Sure a way to call someone.

Why not? He’s evil, and he’s made of flesh, and he’s going to be nothing but meat as soon as I have an opportunity.

I thought your master was thinking of some sort of confinement…?

He certainly has thoughts, Baxia allowed, purposefully broadcasting.

I have very strong thoughts, her master replied pointedly. Do not kill him on your own – I’ll only get the blame for that.

Oh no, Baxia told him insincerely. How terrible for you.

Baxia. Please.

Fine. What about Jin Guangshan?

…what about him?

Me and the flute are going to take care of him.

We are? Wait, are you talking to your master right now? Oh that’s so cool. Tell him to tell my master that I said hi.

Baxia would tell her master no such thing.

That’s probably not the right way to do that, her master said, but in that wavering tone of voice that suggested he was open to being convinced. Though it would be easier to sell Meng Yao as being only collateral damage in the scheme if Jin Guangshan took the lion’s share of the blame, which would only happen if he wasn’t around…that doesn’t seem right, though.

Sure it is, Baxia said soothingly. He’s the one who wanted to play with resentful energy, right? All we want to do is play with him back. Who can say no to that? He’s practically volunteered!

-

“Okay, I have a weird question,” Chenqing’s master said to Baxia’s. “Please don’t judge me. But…did we happen to work together to drive Jin Guangshan into a resentful energy backlash?”

“We did not,” Baxia’s master said.

“Okay. Right. Got it. Sorry, stupid question.”

“Our spiritual weapons did.”

“…what?”

“If you’re wondering why your Chenqing shows signs of use in the manner that would be associated with Jin Guangshan’s untimely demise, it’s because the resentful energy you’re using has been sufficient to allow it to cultivate in the direction of a guai,” Baxia’s master explained. “It has a will of its own now, just as Baxia does. You will need to account for that when you master it in the future.”

“Wait. Are you saying that my flute has, what, a personality? Can think and talk and do things on its own?”

“Yes.”

“That’s…that’s so cool. Can you tell Baxia to tell Chenqing I said ‘hi’?”

Why are they like this, Baxia’s master asked Baxia.

I don’t know, you’re the human expert, she replied, ignoring the way that Chenqing was happily chirping answers to her human’s questions even though he couldn’t hear her. Why are you all like this?

I don’t know, he said. I really don’t know.

-

It’s nice to meet you, Suibian said, sounding appropriately respectful. I appreciate your master finding a way for my master to continue to wield me.

It’s through resentful energy, Chenqing said gleefully. Lots and lots of it, refining the sword like a saber – my poor master’s going to have to stay up late and learn so many techniques, his hair’s all going to fall out.

Yes, Baxia said. I can see the resentful energy. There’s a lot of it.

Lots and lots, Suibian said proudly. I drew in everything I could.

Without sorting out the evil?

…isn’t it all evil?

Mm, not really, Baxia said, and began to extend out her aura.

Uh, Suibian said. What’s going on.

I told you to be more patient! You shouldn’t have taken the evil parts, Chengqing said. It makes you a little bit evil, too, and that makes you Baxia’s prey.

…prey?

Chase, Baxia said. Chase, chase, chase –

Help! Help – somebody help!

I would, Chenqing giggled. But master doesn’t speak flute. Sorry!

#mdzs #baxia #chenqing #suibian #nie mingjue #wei wuxian #my fic #my fics #kind of evil

[venomous--fics]

Anon asked: maybe a continuation of the peter b parker kid thing where they finally confront the mom and get the readers things back 😩💞💞

a/n: ask and thou shall receive! this spent so long in the drafts bc i felt so insecure about it tbh, so any feedback is appreciated! I love seeing messages about what you guys think! really keeps me motivated! also, requests are open

Warnings: mentions of past abuse

Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, constantly looking at the clock. It was almost 5pm, you were supposed to be home an hour and a half ago. Yes, he keeps track of everyone's schedules, yes he knows the exact second you should be walking through the door. He's already texted you, but maybe you had detention. Nah, you were a good student, he highly doubted you'd have to stay after school.

His phone finally rang, and he was way too quick answering it.

"You okay?"

"I need some help."

"What is it?" he was already out the door.

You sighed, knowing he was probably going to give you an earful later.

"Well, it's a really long story, right.. But my mom showed up after school-"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think. Anyways, we got into it on the way home, which is no- Not normal." you adjusted how you were sitting, "And since she was dragging me back to the house, I figured I'd just get my crap and come home, right? Makes sense, saves us the tri-"

"She took you without permission?"

"Technically she is my m-...Parent. I guess, y'know, legally she can do whatever- But..Okay." you began to feel bubbles of anxiety and pain and even resentment form deep in your core, "She locked me out." You rubbed your neck.

"Are you," he paused, looking around at all the faces passing by him, "Still there?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."

"I keep causing problems for everyone."

"Not for me. Or Mj."

It was quiet on your end.

"You still there?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in like ten minutes."

"You probably shouldn't."

"Nah, nah." He said, having a sudden wave of anger rush over him, "Let me take care of this."

And true to his word, Peter was there in ten minutes. You hopped up from your spot on the porch as he made his way up to the door and knocked on it as hard as he could. He gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

The door swung open, and your mother seemed awfully surprised and confused to see some random man just standing there. Peter held no emotion has he looked her dead in the eye, "Can we come in."

She opened the door wider so that way you two could step in.

"Go get your stuff." is all Peter said to you.

Wasting no time, and not wanting to be in the middle of a potential argument between the two, you skedaddled to your room. It almost felt like too much to be in there. It looked so empty and barren compared to your room at Peter and Mjs place. Seems really dull. Lifeless, almost. Dust covered every surface, which meant that nobody had ever even bothered to see if you were even still in there.

You heard their voices from the living room, but they seemed so distant, seeing as all you could focus on was every shitty thing that woman put you through.

You remember the day that you got bit. It made you deathly ill, and you just thought you were dying from some sort of allergic reaction to the spider bite. You tried to get her to take you to any doctor or anywhere that could help because all you could seem to see were stars.

Everything then was so loud. Everything was so bright. It was all too much, and you were certain that the reaper was waiting for you. What did she say?

"Suck it up and stop pretending. Everything has to be so dramatic with you."

Or that time you forgot a single item on the shopping list. You got this whole speech about how stupid you had to have been. To forget one item. It was the world's most useless item.

Everything else seemed to play all over again, all at once. Like a waterfall. It should've made you sad. It should've made you cry, or scream.

You recounted all the times you wanted to fight back, or just run away. Leave everything behind and just run until your legs gave out. But you never did. You always found some reason to linger.

The conversation was growing louder where Peter was.

"You aren't going to do this to them ever again. Sign the papers."

You nearly dropped your last belonging on the floor as you scrambled to your door. Papers? He wasn't serious. Well, obviously he was. He just said it.

"Fine. It's not like the-"

"Zip it. Sign the papers."

"Who are you anyways? The law? If so, whatever they've told you is a b-"

"Listen, lady. I didn't ask for any attitude. I told you to sign the papers." he seemed to huff in annoyance, "That doesn't require talking."

"I'm a good mother."

"And I'm the king of France."

"Really. I gave them a good home. I have fed them and kept them warm-"

"Really? You think you did all that? Or are you convincing yourself that you did all that?"

"I am-"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Ye-"

"I've never said this about anyone, ever. I don't like speaking to or about anyone like this.. Ever, but, you? I think you're a piece of shit."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, look. You finished signing the papers. I'll take those. Thank you."

Realizing that it was your time to go, you stuffed your blanket into your duffel bag and rushed out the door and down the hall. Peter looked at you, expecting to see at least three bags. But he only saw the one.

"Where's the rest of your stuff."

"Uhm," you shuffled around, pretending as thought you dropped some, "This...This is all my stuff."

"That can't be ri-" He laughed a little, and noting the expression on his face, you saw that he was NOT happy. "That? That single duffle bag is all you have? That's it?"

"Yes..." you took a step back, "This is all.."

"I can't believe it." he said, "You're joking! One bag worth of stuff?"

He turned his attention back to your mother, who, for the first time in your life, actually looked like she got caught red handed, "You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

"But they're so u-"

"No! No, you don't get to talk anymore. You've done enough."

You awkwardly shuffled behind him, in the event that you two had to make a mad dash out the door. That and you needed to not be seen as you tried to hide your almost evil grin.

"The hell is wrong with you? You have this amazing kid, and THAT'S all you've ever gotten for them? And you sit there and call yourself a mother? Absolutely, without a doubt, bullshit. I'd be ashamed of myself to call myself a father if that's all I've provided for my kid. Don't even get me started on you as a person, we made that clear."

It almost felt cursed to hear him swear, seeing as he made it a point to tell you to not swear. Every time you did, you have to give a quarter to the swear jar. Mj was always on your side, though. She'd say a swear that was much worse and have to pay a dollar. Each word had a value.

"Maybe we should just go." you suggested, tugging on the sleeve of his arm, "She's not worth it anymore."

"She was never worth it, it seems."

You finally made eye contact with her, and the look in her eye. It's like she understood, but was choosing to not do anything about the situation. She could look sorry all she wanted, but you knew she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. You know that right."

"That means nothing to me."

"I can change."

"If you can change now, that means you could've changed then. You just chose not to."

"But I'm your mother, you should realize how I feel. You should want-"

"You're not my mom. You stopped being my mom the first time you-" You turned towards the door and started walking towards it, "Whatever. You mean nothing to me."

You practically kicked open teh door just to leave, and Peter was right behind you, shouting about how he'd make sure to egg her house everyday, just to piss her off.

"Do you really think I'm amazing?" you asked, the walk home feeling rather quiet.

"I think you're more than that. Just can't put it into words."

"Did you really mean it...That we could egg her house?"

"You want to? There's a store right on the way home."

"How about tomorrow."

"I'll have to clear up my busy schedule. See if I can work in a drive by egging. Well, swing by egging."

"You promise?"

"You kidding? I haven't egged anyone's house since college."

You had so much more you wanted to get off you chest, but you opted to just talk about it at home, with everyone present. You wanted to talk about how you felt about everything, and the papers. Whatever those were. But you were, for the moment, busy laughing about Peter's story about how he used to Egg this one reporters house. Someone named Jonah.

You wonder if Jonah ever put two and two together.

#marvel imagine #marvel x reader #into the spider verse x reader #into the spiderverse imagine #peter b parker imagine #peter b parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader