#I WILL BE CATCHING UP AND PARTICIPATING ALL MONTH I SWEAR TO YOU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

timewillpasssoon · 2 months ago

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ETERNAMENTE !

PAIRING — bob reynolds x gen neutral!thunderbolt!reader , + family!thunderbolts

SUMMARY — ten months have passed since the thunderbolts/new avengers grouped up. a few days ago you got badly injured during one of the group missions, making you have to stay in the compound with bob- who also is staying at the tower, practicing gaining control of his powers.

WARNINGS — you/your, spoilers for thunderbolts*, mentions of abuse, child abuse, reader and bob’s poor mental health, alcohol, fighting and stabbing, knife and guns, injuries, blood, mutual pinging, suggestive, kissing/making out, hair pulling (bob receiving), no full on smut though (soon dw,,,), swearing, reader has no superpowers but has enhanced senses, lmk if i missed any !

WORDS — 9.0k

NOTE — inspired by eternamente by gal costa !!! sorry if there is spelling errors,,, also happy one year to this account ! i have like two other large Bob fics and one Bucky fic in the works, hopefully i don't lose motivation </3 anyways enjoy

this was honestly bullshit. at least that’s what you thought. you’ve haven’t been able to participate in missions for the past week since this damn injury. during a mission, your task was to make sure all civilians in and near the crumbling building were safe and sound. when entering the very large establishment, you managed to get lost while looking for more innocents lingering. then you saw someone in your peripherals, hiding, trying to attack you when you were oblivious to their presence.

having extremely enchanted reaction time, you were able to defend yourself when they tried to strike you. your arm shot up just as the pipe was about to strike your skull. pain shot through your upper arm, but with the adrenaline now pumping throughout your entire body, that pain only felt like a medium sensation. you twisted their wrist making them drop the pipe that was once held in their hand. you were quite busy kicking the metal away from them that you didn’t notice the knife they pulled out of their pocket.

with a very swift motion, the unknown person stabs your right shoulder with all their might. you scrum out a piercing roar, the pain being too much to handle. you ducked down, your right knee making contact with the dusty floor while your other leg was still bottom shoe–floor contact. your sudden movement made them dig the knife deeper into your skin. with all the panic and momentum stored inside, you grabbed their arm mid swing and twisted until their shoulder popped. their grab on the knife was none as they screamed out for help, yet that gave you more courage to continue the fight.

with them crying like a little baby you were able to sweep them off their feet (in a literal sense) and have them over your shoulder. with all the strength you had, the action of throwing their body on a nearby desk was accomplished. the wooden structure broke in half due to impact. with a knife still stuck on your shoulder you pulled out a gun on them, “you done?” was all you handled to say.

the next couple of seconds were a blur. you were going to comm Yelena and Bucky about the person who was obviously in the gang you were catching, but they quickly kicked the gun off your hands. you stammered in pain as they tried to reach for the gun now on the ground and succeed. without a second thought, they aimed it towards your head. with only half a second of reaction time, you moved to the right so the bullet wouldn’t go through your chin. yet, this movement only made the small life ending copper go through your shoulder.

immediately once the mission was complete, you were rushed to the med bay. you don’t remember much due to you automatically spacing out when the doctors and nurses were trying to stop the bleeding. once the stitching and bandaging was down, you were ordered to rest for at least a week and a half. despite all your protests, the full week and a half agenda was pushed. the guilt of having an unplanned and unprompted rest was starting to get in your head. you swore to the rest of the team that the stabbing and bullet wound didn’t affect you anymore, but Bucky wasn’t having any of that. “just a couple more days.” he would constantly say to shut down your attempts of persuasion.

although, you couldn’t really complain about your free little vacation. you got to finally relax- even if you thought it was undeserved- and Bob was there to keep you company. after the whole press announcement about the group being the “new avengers” Bob was put on hold. he decided to train so he could figure out how to control his powers and intrusive thoughts. so, that meant being stuck in the compound. whenever you asked how he thought about it, he would never complain about it. he was too perfect. quiet, shy, observant, but had those few little moments where he would shine during group hangouts. and whenever those tiny scenes played out, you couldn’t help but smile.

you distinctly this one time that pulled your heart strings.

this happened three months after the Void incident and it was finally game night. it was one of those rare days where there was no training, missions, and chores to do. so of course with all of you bored out of your minds. Alexei sat everyone down in the living room for ‘family bonding’. everyone protested in their own ways. Yelena said she was too tired to stay up, Ava saying straight up no, John being slightly intrigued despite saying “I don’t do games”.

Alexei still tries to lift their spirits up! “bah! you all complain now but soon you will laugh! bond, cry maybe.” Bucky and you are the first ones to give up the tough guy acts and just get the board games over with. Bob is soon to join the two of you, placing his half read book down and getting up from his comfortable chair, now sitting right beside you on the floor in a swift motion. your hands were placed behind your view, letting yourself lean back against your palms.

while Bob was about to sit down, he placed a hand on the ground to give himself more balance. doing that he was obviously reckless with his hand placement and next thing you know his fingers glazed on top of yours. you didn’t retreat your hand though. no, instead you darted your head at the now more nervous man beside you. finally completing his motion of sitting down, he quickly apologized in his usual scrambled manner. the way he backed away made you somewhat frown at his action. “it’s alright, don’t worry.”

the reassurance was needed to be honest. yet, you weren’t sure if he was afraid about the possibility of making you face your past or if he was genuinely appalled by the touch of you.

it had taken what felt like hours (it was really like four minutes), multiple threats to Walker, a shit load of Alexei’s persistence, and snacks for the rest of the thunderbolts to join. they either sat on the couch or floor. Alexei cheers in excitement, “that’s what i’m talking about! family!” Ava picked out the Monopoly, which should’ve been the first sign of a chaotic night, to be the game of the night.

with the group being knee deep into the game, everyone was either gaining headaches from screaming at each other, or laughing their asses off. first it was property wars. Yelena scoffed at Walker, “you bought boardwalk? so predictable.” and temu Captain America clapping back with a “it’s called strategy, Yelena. you should try it sometime.” then it was Ava being on everyone’s ass whenever they landed on her property, saying the amount they owned her with too much glee. “you know you could say it with less joy.” Bucky mumbled at her as he gave her $750 of his play money.

the next phase was getting the rules confused. well, it was mainly Walker but that was only because he was trying to cheat. occasionally Alexei would mix rules together so he could justify why he was giving himself money (he fought for the banker position). Bob with his hefty debt to you and Ava. “you owe me $750!” Ava deadpanned at Bob, which made him widen his eyes. he stammered on his words “uh- i um… i’m retired!!!” he played off a cute little smile.

you looked at him because of his change of voice tone. but his toothy smile made you continue your staring. with him being somewhat close, the distance made you really look at him.

his posture was slightly hunched forward, eyes darting between you and Ava as he gave out his excuse on why he couldn’t pay either of you. there was a softness to his features despite the obvious anxious expression. his hair was messy, mainly due to his fingers running through his own locks. the dorky smile he had plastered on his face grew slightly as he peeked at you, catching your goggling. the sudden eye contact made your chest feel weirdly warm. as half a second went by, your eyes widened, trying to respond to his response. Ava interfered with the very uncomfortable eye contact (it was only uncomfortable to the rest of the group), “you’re not retired-“

“could be,” he shrugged, his smile shrieking but it was still visible. “early retirement… because of um- emotional distress!” you squint your eyes at him, disregarding his answer once again and demanding he payed you and Ava back- mainly you. he nodded aggressively, mumbling the words “got it” under his breath and looking back at the board. yet his eyes still lingered on you for a short period of time that everyone saw. Walker makes a face and calls the two of you out, “are we playing the game or flirting?” which resulted in more arguments.

you will never forget that moment because that was the day you realized how Bob was your exact type. he was always there, yeah sure, but you never really gave it a second thought until that night. ever since then, you would steal glances his way. you liked the way he would blabber about a topic he knew too much about. or when small pieces of hair would fall on his face when he did the dishes. what you didn’t know was Bob felt your pair of eyes on him twenty-four-seven. he didn’t mind at all though. yes, it made him nervous but a good type of nervous, you know?

throughout the entirety of your small break you managed to get mildly closer with Bob. you were already close to him already, but there was still this barrier between the two of you. though, the other thunderbolts could tell there was a small lingering feeling. they noticed way before the two of you did. so, at the start of your break, the both of you were too shy to make a move. you guys would pass by in the kitchen and have that awkward moment where the two of you are facing each other and stepping on the same side thinking the other would move the other way. whenever you entered the living room and Bob was already there, he would stammer to himself before existing the large room.

it was so frustrating that you didn’t have the courage to talk to him. you could do a one versus three but you couldn’t ask a man to go get coffee with you? it made you feel pathetic. this weird feeling you were experiencing was sickening- no, straight up cruel. and it was all because of Bob.

on day four you managed to gather up the courage and go up to Bob. he was in the living room space reading a book peacefully. his eyebrows furrowed as he got more invested into the book. the way he would mouth out the words he was reading was somehow cute to you. shaking your head mentally, you cleared your throat loud enough for him to shoot his attention at you. “uh. are you hungry? do you want to go get something- anything with me?” you asked in a mild tone, pointing at the door behind yourself so your hand doesn’t awkwardly sit at your side. he takes a moment to himself before remembering to answer.

Bob’s mouth is left slightly gaped, “you should be restin-“ without a thought you interrupt his shirt sentence, stumbling on your own words now. the words ‘i’m okay now’ or something along those lines leaving your quivering lips. despite the cold stoic expression on your face, mentally you were freaking out. you face palmed yourself for the unnecessary hesitation laced in your words.

“i mean it. a walk outside won’t break my shoulders, would it?” Bob nodded at your statement. he didn’t like the thought of you being hurt- or any of the other thunderbolts! the determination on your face that seeped out made him feel that you were telling the truth. i mean, you were right. no harm in a simple snack run!

”yeah. okay...” his soft smile that you could stare at for hours appears on his face. he jolts up and follows you outside the building and the two of you head to the nearest coffee shop after a few moments of thinking what to get.

the two of you began walking in silence. although the quiet was comforting to Bob, it wasn’t to you since you were trying to start a conversation. with a topic idea finally coming to you, you ask him what he was reading. he plays it off, the tone of his voice soft and quiet. he gives you the book title, and with you obviously wanting the conversation to move forward, ask what it’s about. he hadn’t expected that follow-up question.

he thought you only wanted to make small talk, but the way you gazed at him, that assumption was out the window. his shoulders relaxed a bit, explaining the book in the best way possible. his arms flopping around as he made little features that completed his words. “honestly it’s… kind of beautiful. sad, yeah- but not in a hopeless way!” you hummed quietly, still enchanted by his wittiness. the way he explained the book piqued your curiosity, making you ask questions here and there. he, obviously, answered them in the most gentle way.

Bob gave a small soft smile your way. once his eyes met yours, he was stunned that you were actually listening and engaged in this conversation. there was a familiar flicker in his eyes. the same emotion that you had.

“you can have it- the book- i already read it two times!” you smiled at the gesture, and without realizing you nodded at his request. “i’m down.” your guys’ steps synchronized with one another’s. the silence washed over you guys once more, but this time the silence was comfortable- easier to sit on.

the small bakery’s door was in front of you. being a person with basic manners, you open the door for the nervous tall man that accompanied you on this journey. he muttered a thankful “thank you”. once the both of you entered the cozy room establishment, the two of you looked at the menu on top of the cashier. the worker welcomed the two of you, letting the both of you have a moment to yourselves.

“do you know what you want?” your head tilted towards his body, your sight still fixated on the options ahead of you. Bob let out a muffled whimper, “mmh- i think so…” you nodded at his answer and headed towards the worker. Bob quickly followed you like a lost puppy. placing your own order, you step to the side so Bob can choose for himself. after paying and waiting, the two of you decide to eat at the tower- there being more known to the both of you.

the empty living room was expected. Bucky, Ava, and Walker were on a mission while Alexei and Yelena were on another. you speed walk to the couch, placing the bag or pastries on the coffee table as well as your drink right beside it. today felt too peaceful. the low ruckus of the city outside, the warm orangey-yellow glow of the lamps, and Bob’s quiet footsteps behind you.

he hovered awkwardly near the arm of the couch, unsure whether to sit or wait for permission to do so.

you plopped down and leaned back with a soft sigh. “wanna watch a movie?” you glanced up at him, a spark of boldness slipping past your usual self. Bob blinked, surprised. he shifted from foot to foot, the hesitation practically oozing off him. “uh… yeah. i mean, if you want. i’d-… yeah.” you cracked a smile at his yes, also because of his nervous structure. patting the empty spot beside you, the remote was now in your hand after a quick search for it. The smile remained on your face as he shattered on the couch, “you get to pick.” Bob’s mouth slightly opened yet no sound came out, then lowered himself onto the other end of the couch as if it might crumble beneath him. he reached for the remote, your fingertips grazing each other. quietly scrolling through the options while you stole little glances at his profile. the soft slope of his nose and the way his brows furrowed as he read the movie titles. there was something so careful about the way he moved, like he was always afraid of taking up too much space. you found it cute.

you shifted slightly, not enough to startle him, just enough to nudge your leg a little closer to his. he noticed. of course he did. you caught the way his eyes flicked down, the subtle inhale through his nose, the quick return of his gaze to the screen. He picked out a random movie. the both of you had no idea of its existence.

the once empty screen was now broadcasting the opening scene of this unknown movie. you leaned forward, offering Bob another bite of your pastry, out of habit. he gave you a sheepish smile, shaking his head. “i’m good. uh- thanks, though.” trying to mirror his smile you accepted his rejection. with the gentlest lean, under the idea of getting more comfortable, your shoulder now brushing just slightly against the edge of his. yes, it did slightly sting, but it was going to be worth it. the silence stretched.

still, Bob said nothing.

you let the warmth of the moment settle around you like a blanket, your fingers inching a little closer to his on the cushion between you. and Bob… didn’t move his hand away. just as you were about to make a move on Bob, by trying to interlock your fingers with his, Alexei and Yelena burst through. it was mostly Alexei who rushed in. he let out a loud “WOOH!” alongside a bunch of small laughing fits. a concerned Yelena was behind him, “you need to go to the med bay.” her tone was harsh, but genuinely uneasy about his physical state. Bob, who gets started whenever Walker smacks the fridge door shut a little too hard, obviously got freaked out by this sudden nuisance.

his hand that was once on the couch cushion is now interlocked with his other hand… great! Alexei stumbled a little but held his arms up in victory. he made eye contact with you and Bob, ignoring Yelena’s concerns entirely. “you should’ve seen it! i threw a guy into a dumpster. headfirst!” his iconic dad laugh piercing everyone’s ears. Yelena, unimpressed and exasperated, pressed a hand to his side. “you are bleeding, you idiot.”

Alexei waved her off like she was being dramatic. a somewhat hurt expression on his face. “that's no way to talk to your father!” he pointed at himself while the last word left his mouth. then, noticing the way you and Bob practically split apart like guilty teenagers, Alexei paused. his eyes narrowed. interrupting Yelena’s pestering, he loudy asked “-wait a second… did i interrupt something?” everyone but his own eyes were on the giant bloody gash on his right arm.

you and Bob immediately shot up in sync, voices overlapping in awkward unison. “no!”

you glanced at Bob, who looked just as horrified to have blurted it as you felt. clearing your throat to recover your composure, you motioned vaguely toward the TV. “we were about to watch a movie,” you muttered, tone overly casual. Yelena, hands on her hips, arched a brow and gave Alexei a knowing look. Alexei grinned, practically glowing with glee. “ohhh, were you now?” he teased, eyes twinkling with mischief. “young love is in the air, eh Yelena?”

Yelena sighed, but her smirk betrayed her amusement. “mmhmm.” she said, voice deadpan as she gave you both one last glance, then turned Alexei around by the shoulders. “let’s go. before you bleed on the nice furniture.”

as Alexei stumbled forward with Yelena guiding him, he turned over his shoulder to shout, “don’t let us stop you! just pretend we were never here!” the door finally closed behind them, but the silence that followed was no longer soft and inviting. it was fragile… like glass was between the two of you. glass that was easily breakable, yet the both of you didn’t dare to break it- even touch it.

you both now stared at the screen. the movie played on, the main character now on screen doing god knows what. you shifted, slightly, settling back into the cushions with a hush exhale. Bob didn’t say anything. he kept his eyes on the screen, hands folded in his lap like he was in a business meeting. the space between you wasn’t that wide, but it felt like miles. the warmth from before was extremely cooled from that little show Alexei and Yelena preformed. no shoulder brushing. no hands creeping closer.. just two people, trying to pretend like they hadn’t just almost held hands like squeaky teenagers.

day five was alright. it was the morning after your little movie night. remember? the one where you and Bob sat too close? yet you didn’t touch nor speak about it. pretended the movie was the highlight of the night when, really it was the almost-moment you shared before it crashed and burned. do you remember?

existing your barely refurbished room. the smell of sweet breakfast croissants and warm syrup drifted throughout your hallway. you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, feet dragging on the floor. as you walk towards the kitchen, plastic bags could be seen on the kitchen island. you automatically assumed that someone ordered breakfast.

your tired gaze landed on Yelena, who leaned against the counter, a smug smirk plastered on her face, while Bob stood awkwardly across from the cocky woman. his hands were stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. he had an embarrassed look on his face anyone could decode. Bob’s head turned when he heard your rushed footsteps. his shoulders perked up.

“good morning!” he said with that soft smile of his. the same one that makes you melt inside. your heart skipped- of course it did. “ mornin’.” you replied, trying to sound chill, but it came out a little breathless… real smooth. Yelena snorted into her iced coffee like she’d just read both your minds. “i was just asking Bob,” she said, pointing a finger at the man in front of her, “that i am heading to those pet stores to buy stuff for my baby. want to join us?” her baby obviously being the guinea pig she found before we knew Bob. Yelena had a look of ‘go with my lie’ that was daggered onto Bob. his confused face now turned into an obvious cover up. He mumbled a ‘yeah’. the finger once pointing at Bob, now pointing to one of the plastic bags on the counter, her eyes had a look saying ‘help yourself’.

you covered your mouth, yawning right after, nodding as you did so. “sure, i don't have a mission to go on, so...” making your way to the plastic bags to grab one of the boxes. as your fingers brushed one of the styrofoam covers, Bob leaned forward instinctively to help, but your hands met halfway. a light touch. nothing major. barely a second. you both froze. just like the night before, there was that moment. unspoken, electric, warm. Bob gave you a soft look. one that said he wasn’t sure if this was allowed, but hoped it was.

you pulled your hand back gently, not too fast.

Yelena squinted at the both of you, then grinned so smugly. “i’m just gonna… take this food to my room. far from whatever this weird thing is,” she muttered, “were leaving at two.” and walked off, sipping loudly from her straw.

that left just you and Bob.

you stared at the box in your hands like it was going to offer advice.

“so…” you said, glancing up at him.

“so,” he echoed, already fidgeting with the string on his hoodie.

the silence stretched, but not in an awkward way.

you both just… stood there for a beat, clutching your respective food containers. neither of you spoke, but you weren’t exactly avoiding each other’s eyes either.

Bob’s lashes were longer than they had any right to be. his hair was still a little messy from sleep. floppy, kind of soft looking, like he’d just rolled out of bed. there was a faint flush on his cheeks. the yellow and orange tones radiating from the morning sun casted onto his tall figure. he looked good in the morning light.

Bob’s eyes flicked over your features too. they were lingering a bit too long on the corner of your mouth. he was mentally bookmarking everything about you. he opened his mouth once. a brief moment of courage sparked in his face-

“ayy! what’d i miss?”

-Bob’s spark dimmed almost immediately. the loud, screechy voice of Walker barreled through the hallway as he marched into the room. behind him came Ava, tying her hair up in a messy ponytail, looking more awake than either of the three. she nodded in your direction, then squinted at the two of you seated side by side.

Bob blinked like he’d just been caught doing something illegal. his once gaped mouth was completely shut now. Walker made his way to the plastic bags in front of the two flushed humans. he furrowed his eyes, pointing his head up so he could face Bob and you while his hands grabbed a styrofoam box filled with breakfast. “why does this feel weird in here?” he asked, looking between you two. “you guys fight or something?”

“no?” you said too quickly.

“no!” Bob added, way too in sync with you.

Ava gave you both a long, slow look, then leaned on the island, clearly amused. “oh. i get it,” she said, “you sat too close during your little movie night, didn’t you? almost kissed or some dumb crap like that?” her voice was light but teasing, the kind that made your stomach flip for all the wrong reasons. Yelena definitely told her what happened when she and Alexei barged in. you’ll have to remember to get back at her. Bob nearly choked on his own breath. “wha- no, that’s not-”

you accidentally cut Bob off, “excuse me?” Ava just laughed in both of your faces. “you so did..”

Walker squinted, chewing on a piece of croissant, his mouth too full to make a comment. Bob looked like he wanted to disappear into his hoodie. he was trying to keep his cool, but the tips of his ears were visibly red now. “we were just... watching a movie.”

“sure,” Ava said, dragging out the word. she held her box in one hand, a drink in the other, and gave you both a mock salute. “well. we’re taking this to the training room. the silence here is giving me second hand tension.”

Walker was already halfway to the door. “you guys figure your stuff out or whatever.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but Ava held up a hand without turning around. “don’t care. bye, lovebirds.”

the door shut behind them. leaving you and Bob alone, with nothing but a comfortable- yet anxious- conversation about to arise.

the rest of the day was a breeze. Yelena picking and choosing what her little baby needed- more like what she wanted, but you weren’t going to tell her that- while you and Bob were just yes men when she needed two second opinions.

oh but day six. oh lord day six was heavenly for your eyes.

the training room was fairly quiet despite a breathless Bob training in there. you hadn’t really planned to go in. honestly, you were just passing because you had to go to the med bay so you could re-wrap your shoulder wounds. strolling through the hall, you see the door wide open, a wooden door wedding stopping it from closing. once your body was directly blocking the door, you saw Bob inside. he was already mid-workout, a focused expression etched on his face. he hadn’t noticed you at first. his back was towards you, muscles flexing with every movement as he practiced strikes on one of the padded dummies. you stepped in silently, leaning on the edge of the door frame, eyes glued to the way he moved.

he soon stopped his punching, his breath out of control. in a swift motion, he faced his whole body towards the door- where you were at-, tugging the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his forehead. that damn shirt. it lifted enough to show the cut of his abs, the glisten of sweat trailing down his toned torso. your gaze lingered maybe a second too long and Bob finally noticed you once the cloth was out of his clutch. his smile twitched, a little embarrassed expression could be seen on his face.

he paused, chest rising and falling with deep breaths you were too familiar with. the faint smile on his lips is still visible. “oh! i didn’t notice you! ” he spoke out, voice a little breathless.

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks betrayed you. “i was... passing by. sorry.”

he nodded, clearly not believing you. “right.” neither of you said anything after that. he went back to punching the dummy. you didn’t leave.

day seven and eight were just as special to the both of you. the warmth and comfortable silence between you guys was impeccable. you talked about anything that came to your minds. and the other would engage in said conversation.

something had shifted, softly, naturally. the tension that once sat heavy between you and Bob, awkward and skittish, had melted into something quieter. something safer. eight months ago, every accidental touch was followed by a quick retreat, with Bob frantically saying sorry, being scared that he may send you back to cursed memories. but now… now it is different. now, when your hands brushed when the both of you tried to grab a cup, or walking side by side with your knuckles brushing against the other’s, it didn’t feel like a mistake.

there was a moment, on day seven, in the hallway outside the armory. you had both reached for the same door handle while being too carried away in the conversation. your fingers met, overlapped. but this time, neither of you moved away. his thumb grazed your knuckle, slow and warm, and you didn’t flinch. you didn’t even look away. Bob gave you a soft, almost sheepish smile, like he was still surprised he was allowed to linger. but you moved through the door together. the conversation did not stop one bit. this felt normal. you liked when he stood a little closer now, like it was natural to take up space next to you. the way his laugh softened when it was just the two of you. something was building- something good.

day nine.

it was another regular fun day. the morning was utter chaos because Alexei decided to cook breakfast for everybody. flour was everywhere, Yelena trying to read the instructions of the pancake mix box, Ava bumping her head on the kitchen counter when trying to pick up the falling eggs, and Walker yelling, “i swear to god if someone throws another spatula-” just before someone did throw another spatula. everybody was laughing. this was a family. the family you never got to have- the one you deserved.

the pancakes ended up looking like abstract art and tasting a bit too salty- for some odd reason, but everyone still ate them. you were sitting on the counter, legs swinging slightly as you watched the group argue over whether or not the pancakes were edible. Bob stood beside you, plate in hand, picking at a lumpy one.

“these taste like salt water…” he said, chewing slowly. you tried not to laugh but failed, covering your mouth with your hand. “you’re being dramatic.” Bob looked at you with that soft, amused expression you were starting to know too well. “he’s being honest! who put salt in this!?” Walker busted out as he tried his best to swallow the big piece in his mouth. Yelena whipped around from the stove with a wooden spoon in hand, wiggling it as she spoke. “you try making pancakes while Alexei’s screaming about protein and Ava’s throwing eggs at the wall!”

“it was one egg!” Ava shouted from the floor, still rubbing her forehead. “and my hand slipped!” no one believed her, obviously. Alexei puffed his chest proudly. “in Soviet Russia, pancakes eat you!” Bucky scoffed, not daring to touch another salty pancake.

“yeah ‘cause no one in their right mind would eat these.”

the afternoon was filled to the brim with training. you had to beg Bucky to let you join the rest of the group. “my shoulders are FINE!” and after pestering him for a decent amount of time, he budged. although you knew everyone would go easy on you, that didn’t matter.

the sky outside had dimmed to that deep navy blue, the compound settled into a calm, tired hum. everyone had broken off after training to shower, change, and unwind. Walker had declared himself starving three times before the group finally agreed on takeout. a debate about which place to order from led to a chaotic argument before they all shuffled out the door. Ava making a snide comment with a pointed glance at you and Bob, Yelena grinning knowingly. Alexei offered a dramatic thumbs-up. and just like that, the door shut behind them.

you and Bob were left behind. not a purpose, definitely. the poor excuse Yelena made was that someone needed to take care of her baby- and that someone was you and Bob.

you both migrated to the living room, collapsing onto the couch with soft sighs. the air between you wasn’t heavy or awkward. it was warm. the TV played something neither of you were really watching, and conversation picked up like it always did. something dumb, lighthearted. “that was back when i was getting used to this whole ‘being in the spotlight’ thing.” you said, smirking as you leaned back on the couch. “but now that i look back on it… it’s very cringy.” Bob laughed, the sound being very genuine.

you were mid-laugh when the sharp sting flared through your shoulder. your body tensed, face twisting as you accidentally pressed too much weight against the injury. the laughter died on your lips, and you winced. you drew in a slow breath through your nose as you tried to be nonchalant.

Bob immediately became alerted, an alarm flickering across his face. “hey- hey, are you okay?” you nodded quickly, biting down the discomfort. “yeah. yeah, just leaned on it too hard. It’s not much of a stresser, i've been through worse.” trying to lighten up the mood once again. the comfortable air immediately dimmed once the small whimper left your mouth.

he blinked, frowning. “worse? like what?” the word echoed softly, almost unsure. his brows furrowed, curious about your past. he never knew about, didn’t cross his mind since he was so scared of triggering a horrible memory lane when touching you. and then he seemed to catch himself. “i mean- i shouldn’t have asked that. sorry. i didn’t mean to,”

“it’s okay,” you cut in gently, your voice softer now. you said a little more confident, hand pressed against the sore spot. you didn’t look at him right away. “you can ask.” Bob didn’t speak, but he stayed close. he didn’t want to push your boundaries. after a beat of silence, you started to talk. at first, it was just vague words. the kind that circled around the truth without landing on it. you mentioned the pain that started all of this. you mentioned places you would never forget. with a tone Bob understood too well. his eyes never left yours. they were soft and sad. not with pity, but with that kind of deep, quiet empathy that comes from knowing.

you already knew Bob’s story. the Void rooms made sure of that. you knew the weight he carried, the things that broke him. you knew more unfortunate details than the rest of the group.

three months ago.

it had been one of those rare nights where everyone let their guard down. the mission was successful so everyone was relieved. the mood was unusually good. someone, probably Yelena, suggested drinks in the common room, and no one fought her on it. bottles were passed around, music played low from someone's phone speaker, and everyone fell into soft laughter and slurred confessions. Ava and Walker were in the middle of a heated debate about what counted as a sandwich. Alexei was passed out on a bean bag with a half-empty beer still loosely in hand. the night was soaked in the kind of hazy comfort that made even the haunted feel a little human again.

you and Bob had drifted toward a quieter corner of the room, the lights dimmer there, shadows softer. you sat cross-legged on the floor, your back to the wall, with your third drink still untouched beside you. Bob sat across from you, knees bent, arms resting on them casually. he looked more relaxed than you’d seen him in a while. maybe it was just the moment.

he was the one who broke the silence first.

“i used to sit like this under my porch when i was a kid,” he said quietly, looking down at the floor like it was somewhere far away. you rose your head once sounds came out his mouth. he continued, “i’d sneak out at night and just… sit. pretend i was somewhere else.”

you tilted your head. the alcohol consuming your voice, “why under the porch?”

he shrugged, his expression faintly amused, faintly sad. “it was the only place nobody bothered me. ’m dad didn’t care enough to come looking. house was small. loud. angry.”

you stayed quiet, letting him keep going if he wanted. and he did.

“sometimes i’d just lay there, listening to the world and pretending i wasn’t in mine… until my dad would come and force me back inside. dragin’ me inside..”

your fingers fidgeted slightly, heart softening with every word. he was drunk. already on his fourth drink and the consumption was making him speak his mind. you thought that he wouldn’t want to share this in a sober state, but you were wrong. he wanted to be… open. honest.

Bob’s shoulders dropped slightly, not with defeat but with a strange kind of relief. he kept going, the toxic liquid making it easier to swallow the words he’s been dying to tell someone else. the sad details whenever his father would abuse him or his mother. it caused him pain, so you listened. all your attention on him and his story.

he stopped speaking after his background got to the part where he moved to Malaysia. his shoulder stiffened, “i didn’t talk about it for a long time. thought if i buried it deep enough, it wouldn’t matter. then the Void rooms…” he trailed off, eyes flicking up to meet yours. he had that tiny smile he would always do whenever he was at a loss for words. “you saw it too.”

you gave a slow nod. “i did.”

“you didn’t look at me any different afterward… did you?” you still gave him those smiley eyes you gave him back at the vault Valentina sent you in.

“i never would.”

he paused for a moment, remembering all the pain his father caused him. all the built up anger he had because of the man who hit him every chance he got. yet, he released the tension in his shoulders. his eyes filled with terrible nostalgia. “…’m sorry.” you shook your head at his apology. “you don’t have to be.”

you reached out his hand, which was on the floor to make sure he didn’t tumble down. he was too indulged in his mind to notice. or to care.

and that was it. he didn’t say thank you. he didn’t need to. the air between you was already filled with understanding. two people, each with their share of dark stories, sitting quietly in the middle of the night while the rest of the world carried on in laughter and debate.

you won’t forget the look he gave you… so gentle, like you were something precious he didn’t know how to hold yet. that stayed with you for days.

that’s why it was easy to speak now. because he wouldn’t try to fix you. he would just listen, like how you listened to him. his torso angled towards you, his hand resting between you two on the couch, close but not touching. when you finally stopped talking, the silence wasn’t empty. it was full of things neither of you needed to say. Bob’s face had contorted somewhere in the middle of your explanation. his brows were furrowed, lips pressed tight, something raw in his eyes. as if he wanted to take every wound from your past and carry it himself.

you gave him a small, tired smile. “you don’t have to say anything,” you said. “just… being here’s enough. sorry.”

Bob moved slowly, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away. his hand finally reached for yours, the backs of his fingers brushing gently against your skin, testing the waters. when you didn’t pull away, he threaded his fingers through yours properly, his positioning more comfortable. secure but gentle. there was something so patient about him, like he’d wait forever if you needed him to. the silence between you two wasn’t awkward… it was full of understanding. full of everything that didn’t need words.

you shifted closer without really thinking. something in you just wanted to be near him, physically, emotionally, in every way you’d been too scared to admit. Bob noticed, opening his arms slightly, an unspoken offer. and you went in, resting your head against his right shoulder, your good arm draped across his chest as his arms circled you in return. you both just held on, unmoving, like that stillness was the only thing holding you both together. you felt the weight in his breathing. two people broken into half, trying to hold each other together.

“we’ll get through it,” you murmured, your voice small but sure. “all of it. you, me… the others too.” you smiled against the fabric of his shirt. “even if the therapy bill’s gonna be astronomical.” that made him laugh, really laugh. sincere and something in you bloomed. you laughed too, maybe because he did, but it didn’t matter- that warmth was real.

after a moment, the laughter faded into a soft, quiet moment. he pulled back from the hug. not fully, just enough so your faces hovered inches apart. so close you could see the pure blue in his eyes, the way his expression softened just for you. his hand cupped your cheek like he wasn’t sure he could. your breath caught, not because you were nervous, but because you wanted this. you’d wanted this for so long it hurt.

his voice was just above a whisper. “can… uh- can i kiss you?”

you didn’t speak. you looked at him, memorizing his soft lips. the way his gaze traveled from your eyes to your lips. the tracking was slow, he was giving you every second to pull away. but you didn’t, couldn’t. all you could do was slightly nod at his questions.

Bob gulped, barely audible, but visible in the tight movement of his throat. his breath hitched just enough for you to notice. his eyes searched your face once more. it was as if he wasn’t sure this moment was real or if he would wake up from a dream. his thumb brushed your cheek so gently it made you ache. you could feel the hesitation in him, the way his body wanted to close the distance but his mind was still asking if this is okay. if he deserves this.

then, slowly… so slowly, you watched the uncertainty in his eyes flicker into something else. not confidence exactly, but a quiet uplight. his head tilted just slightly, and his lips brushed yours with the kind of softness that made your chest squeeze. a light touch, almost like he didn’t believe he was allowed it, but the moment your lips met, something in him exhaled. Bob’s hand curled a little firmer against your cheek. the kiss deepened, not in intensity, but in presence. there was a growing certainty in the way he leaned into you. like he was realizing that yes, this was real. and you weren’t going anywhere.

it wasn’t a quick kiss. it wasn’t frantic or uncertain. it was deep, slow, and emotional. as if he meant it to tell you something words never could. his lips were warm against yours, the contact tender but solid, like he was grounding you both in that exact moment. yet when he leaned in, and your lips met… something in you hesitated. you didn’t lunge in right away.

your lips stayed just barely there, your body still as your thoughts caught up to you all at once. not because you didn’t want this. fuck, you wanted it. had wanted it for longer than you were ever brave enough to admit. but suddenly, panic whispered in the back of your mind. what if this ruins things? what if this kiss turns all the warmth between you into something awkward? you and Bob had become something so rare… so safe. comforting. real. what if one kiss cracked it apart? you felt like you weren’t ready for a relationship. your state of mind being in shamble, you couldn’t bear hurting Bob.

and underneath that fear was another, heavier truth: you weren’t okay. not completely… your mind was still a mess of cracked mirrors and half-healed wounds. you were still walking through the smoke of everything you’d survived, still trying to convince yourself it wasn’t your fault, that healing didn’t make you weak. and Bob. he wasn’t okay either. you could see it in his eyes every time someone brought up the past. you were both survivors of different hells, still bleeding in ways no one could see. and the idea of starting something that required vulnerability, balance, effort. it terrified you. so yeah. it was not because you didn’t want him, but because you did.

Bob noticed your absence. his lips stilled against yours, then slowly pulled back, just an inch. his eyes opened, searching your face with a flicker of concern, maybe even regret. the worry in his expression wasn’t about himself, but you. it was written all over him, in the slight tension of his jaw, the retreat of his touch. he thought you’d changed your mind. that he crossed a line.

but the moment you saw that flicker in his expression, saw him start to fold in on himself, you snapped out of it. you surged forward before he could retreat any further, placing a hand on each side of his face, cradling him with a kind of urgency that felt like it had been building in your chest for months.

you kissed him back just as carefully, your fingers tightening around his. the ache in your shoulder dulled beneath the rush of warmth curling in your chest. your lips moved against his with more weight, more heat, more emotion. Bob let out the softest exhale, like he’d been holding his breath. and this time, there was no hesitation in him. it was intimate in a way that made your heart clench.

this wasn’t just a kiss. it was everything you’d both buried beneath late-night conversations, shared glances, unspoken understanding. there was longing in it. not just for each other, but for connection. for a future that didn’t feel so lonely. Bob’s hands came up to your waist, grounding you as he deepened the kiss, pulling you just a little closer until your foreheads nearly touched. his lips slowed again, dragging gently against yours like he didn’t want to let go.

you shifted again, getting almost unbearably close to him now. Bob didn’t move as you nudged closer.

his hand splayed out on your back, twitching against the fabric that covered it as you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. you angled your head to the side, deepening the kiss. your eagerness encourages him, syncing with the way you moved against him. the kiss broke apart, that being your choice. his hair was splattered around even more than before this mess happened.

when your hand slid further into his hair, and tugging the strands, he let out the smallest, softest moan. it was so quiet and desperate it sounded like it had been buried within him for centuries. it only made you shift yourself towards him even more. the sound settled low in your stomach, warm and aching, and without thinking, you shifted closer. your knees brushed his thighs, and you climbed into his lap, straddling him slowly, carefully, like testing the weight of a choice you couldn’t take back. his hands found your waist instinctively, holding you there like he’d been waiting for this, for you, and wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask. the space between the both of you vanished entirely now, breaths mingling, your forehead brushing his. being this close, feeling the solidness of him beneath you, was grounding, safe.

his eyes never left yours, he kept every ounce of attention on you, waiting for your next action, hanging on every moment. his breath hitched when you finally closed the gap once more.

Bob’s hand slid beneath the bottom of your shirt, his fingers traced small shapes on your skin that managed to send shivers through your body. you felt the muscles in his arm shift as he pulled you even closer than you already were. the gap can't even be called a gap. now, you two were chest-to-chest. to the point that you felt his literal heartbeat pulse through your own chest. his hand tensed against your soft skin.

without thinking, you moved your hips to test the friction. Bob noticed this sudden reaction and leaned towards it. he spoke, a worried and questionable tone noticeable, “is this right?” you nodded, not pulling away from this crime scene. “yes-”

his lips returned to yours with new urgency, not rough or greedy, just deeper. like he was pouring something sacred into the space between you. his tongue brushed yours and you moaned into his mouth this time, your hands tugging again at his hair. you felt like your whole body was humming, pulsing with something electric and raw.

you could taste his breath, warm and a little shaky, could feel the slight tremble in his hands where they gripped your waist. when he sucked your bottom lip, your fingers continued to tug his hair, and the groan that left his throat was sinful. soft but devastating. you felt dizzy, drunk on the heat building between you, the tension that had stretched for months finally snapping, unraveling like it never wanted to end.

then. footsteps. loud ones.

a group of voices followed. Yelena’s unmistakable laugh carried through the corridor, loud and chaotic and startlingly close. you both froze, lips still pressed together but unmoving, breath lodged somewhere between your lungs and your throat. another voice followed. someone else from the group, joking, teasing, unaware of what they were about to stumble into if they came any closer.

you pulled back with a sharp inhale, Bob’s lips were swollen and wet with your saliva, his pupils blown wide with want. he was breathless, like he’d just come up from deep underwater, and you mirrored the same sentiment: gasping, flushed, chest rising and falling in uneven patterns. your hands remained on either side of his face, and he blinked at you like he couldn’t process how the world was still spinning outside of this.

“shit-” you breathed, your voice a mix of panic and disbelief.

you scrambled off of Bob’s lap, nearly tripping over yourself as you grabbed a pillow and sat beside him instead, trying to act casual while your heart was still sprinting inside your chest. Bob ran a hand through his hair, making it worse, and shifted on the couch to sit up straighter, trying to regulate his breathing. your hair was tousled, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t need a mirror to know exactly how wrecked you looked.

the door flung open a second later, and the group filed into the room. Yelena first, still laughing from something John had said. but the second they laid eyes on the two of you, everything slowed. their eyes did a quick sweep.

Bob’s ruffled hair, your flushed face, the heat still radiating between you both like static. no one said anything at first. the room filled with a charged silence, and then…

“oooh,” Yelena sang, narrowing her eyes with an enormous smirk. “what did we interr-”

Bob turned bright red, stammering as he leaned forward, elbows on knees like he was trying to act normal. “nothing. we were just… talking.”

“talking?” John echoed with a snort. “man, if that’s what talking looks like, i need to have more conversations.”

you tried to hide behind the pillow you’d grabbed earlier, biting back a mortified grunt. your lips still tingled, and your heart refused to slow. Bob peeked at you from the corner of his eye, and even with the embarrassment thick in the air, there was something incredibly warm beneath it all. like whatever just happened between you didn’t feel like a mistake, no matter how messy the timing had been.

but the teasing that was about to happen would be a death sentence to you both.

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #bob thunderbolts #bob thunderbolts x reader #robert “bob” reynolds x reader #thunderbolts imagine #thunderbolts + reader #family!thunderbolts #thunderbolts #lewis pullman x reader #robert reynolds x reader #thunderbolts fluff #this is lowk buns #bob reynolds fic #bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds x y/n #bob reynolds imagine #robert reynolds imagine

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pshaven · 2 years ago

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can i request your take on enhypen and no nut november 😁😁

yes yes yes and YES!!! ty for this anon i had fun writing this hehe

cw! somno in hee and jay, dry humping in hee’s, hinting of oral (f!receiving) in jay and hoon, jake is a weak man, lmk if i missed anything!!

이희승 heeseung ᥫ᭡

5 days

swears he’ll win over the rest of the members when they propose the challenge to him. he tells you right away when he gets home because he can’t risk the chance of you putting your “seducing powers” to work (he’s really just a weak man for you), and of course you support him! you’ll support your man in anything, so you put on your pajamas that cover every inch of your skin to bed. it really does work… for two nights. you realize heeseung becomes a bit restless at night before he actually falls asleep on the third night but you think that maybe he’s just a bit antsy for practice since they’re learning a new choreography.

for the next two mornings, you catch heeseung slightly rubbing against your back and the swell of your ass in his sleep, and you giggle to yourself and decide to indulge him a bit until he wakes up and calls you a “demon” for trying to tempt him when he was the one who started it. day five comes by, and when you wake up, he’s not only just slightly rubbing against you– he’s desperately humping and whimpering into your neck. “a-are you awake? ‘m sorry… i can’t wait anymore…” he whines, the hands that are already on your waist tighten its grip. safe to say the boys teased him until the next year.

박종성 jay ᥫ᭡

entire month

he rolls his eyes at the mention of the challenge, he thinks it’s stupid and even tells the members that he’s not participating in it. until you bring it up to him, saying that you actually want to see how long he can last and at first he refuses but then he thinks of the possibility of you becoming desperate and begging for him to fuck you into the mattress– “okay, fine. i’ll play along,” he agrees after your restless asking. he actually finds this situation quite hilarious; you’re even trying to tempt him, dressing in his favorite outfits that he loves on you that compliments your body just right, bending down to let him get a good view of his favorite colored panties, but despite all that– he doesn’t budge.

you’re practically pawing at his chest by november 29th, whispering dirty nothings but he’s like an unstoppable force. you whine that it’s “not fair!!” when he still does not give in, even trying the puppy eyes and the pout but jay pays you no mind. that is, until the morning of december 1st and he’s in between your thighs, knuckle softly nudging your clit through your panties. the next thing you know, he really does fuck you into the mattress with slow and deep strokes, making you promise to never prompt this challenge to him again for the next following years.

심재윤 jake ᥫ᭡

eight hours

he literally scoffs when the members bring up nnn. as if he would ever lose! it’s in his competitive nature, he can and will win, and he doesn’t take it lightly when sunghoon teases him about how jake would totally lose on the first day. you know something’s off when jake comes over to yours that night after practice, he has that fierce look in his eyes that you normally only see when they’re about to perform onstage. “you good?” you ask, frowning with concern but jake only gives you a nod of acknowledgement before he goes off into your bedroom to sleep. he figures the best way to win this challenge was to completely ignore you because, well let’s just be honest— he would lose within the first hour he got home.

you climb into bed with him, hand on his shoulder as you shake him gently in case he was already asleep (he’s definitely not). “jakeeee,” you drag out in a whine, knowing that he’s ignoring you now because his breathing isn’t as deep if he were actually asleep. you pout when he continues to ignore you, so you decide the only way to grab his attention is to straddle him, ass meeting his crotch area and his hands immediately fly to your waist. yeah… he texted the groupchat with embarrassment the next morning.

박성훈 sunghoon ᥫ᭡

one day

he thinks its sooo funny, especially seeing jake all fired up after he challenges the members to do nnn. with harmless taunts of “you won’t even last a day” or “i bet twenty that jake can’t go past twenty four hours!” his only goal in mind was to beat jake (because he already knew jay would be able to go for the whole month if he really wanted to, and heeseung is too unreadable). “don’t even try anything with me tonight,” sunghoon warns as he walks through the front door, catching you off guard when you jump at his sudden voice. not even a hello— but at this point you’re used to his weird antics anyway.

“i guess we’ll talk tomorrow morning,” you grumble as you climb into bed with him, his back facing you (which is very rare. he’s a big cuddler). the next morning, sunghoon’s up and early scrolling on his phone still in bed, until he gets the notification from jake; lost. dpmo hoon. a grin is appearing on the boy’s face, but he decides he’ll tease jake later. for now, he’ll work on making it up to you in between your thighs for hours with mumbled apologies for his attitude last night<3. he later texts in the groupchat: thx for losing so fast jake. sunghoon knows well that he wouldn’t be able to last past a week with you, so he’s grateful for jake’s weak resolve.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fanfic #sunghoon smut #jake smut #heeseung smut #jay smut #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader

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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

Note

Hey you!! I am still a bit quite new to the jjk fandom and everything going around but i am reading tons of things and your page became my fave in like a blink of an eye, no joke!!! Like i swear everything you write with Gojo goes through my soul and beyond🔥💕 i was thinking if you would maybe sometime take on the idea of how would Gojo react if his wife/gf is pregnant and him the protective dude he is, looses his shit when she gets hurt (either random or an a mission)?and taking care of her after.

Also i hope you are well and send you all the hugs and love i can give from where I am💜💜💜

࿐ ࿔ before the dawn

tw: pregnancy, mentions of blood, satosugu angst, hurt/comfort. goes through your soul and beyond? omg that’s the highest praise🤧 oh and hurt/comfort is actually my roman empire! to fit in love entries, i have to put it in the jjk0 timeline... and also sending love for you too nonnie!! this is so sweet aww thank you🫶🏻✨

a part of gojo's love entries

“…geto suguru is going to unleash curses in tokyo and kyoto.”

you stood still, suddenly feeling like your world had crashed. you blinked at what ichiji had just said after stuttering many times. “huh? geto… suguru?”

you just had your prenatal checkup with shoko, and you had suspected something serious had been going on by the grim way she looked and how she tried to evade your questions. satoru too had been kind of busy these past few days, and he was sorry to leave you more often because of “a business he had to take care of.”

so this was the business.

“how? why?” you asked ichiji with widened eyes, the horror dawning on you surely and fast. “how is he—doesn’t that mean… he’s— he’s going to be hunted down?”

that was a stupid question. suguru had been a criminal for ten years, of course they were going to catch him. it shouldn’t be new, you knew it. but this was an act of terrorism. this was the gravest and he could—suguru could…

three years of your and satoru’s youth flashed in your mind. the laughs. the memories. how? why must everything escalate this way?

“they’re g-going to… eliminate him.” ichiji looked down with regret, swallowing hard as he told you this. “gojo-san… he’s going to participate in the battle too.”

hearing that, suddenly you felt sick to your stomach. another reality crashed: satoru could end up murdering his best friend.

almost immediately, your womb clenched and throbbed with such intensity that your breath hitched, and you lurched forward, gripping onto ichiji’s arm tightly—

“ahh!” a scream tore its way out of your throat as you crumbled to the ground. the vice-like gripping pressure that assailed you sent waves of pain coursing through your belly and there was something wet and scarlet trickling down your legs.

blood. you wheezed, whimpered and your voice came out in panicked gasps. “b-baby… my baby—!”

“i will get you to ieiri-san!” ichiji immediately carried you back to shoko’s infirmary, trying not to turn into a blubbering mess. your anguished cries resonated through the quiet hall as you held onto your spasming abdomen, and ichiji could only pray with all his heart that you would be okay… or else gojo would definitely have his head.

he was informed through a phone call, that you passed out due to shock.

satoru felt his ears ring. everything blanked out afterwards. you were bleeding. you and your baby were bleeding. you weren’t supposed to and he wasn’t even there.

you were already so far along in your pregnancy and there was only a little over two months left before your due date. despite the impulse to scream at ichiji for subjecting you to such shocking news, he realized it would be futile, because in the end, you deserved to know.

he dashed towards the infirmary, the bandages on his eyes unraveling to reveal the bright glint of his six eyes as he met shoko’s stern gaze.

“where is she?” his voice came out ragged, almost in a growl, and his fists were clenched so tightly.

his remaining friend solemnly guided him towards your room and he wasted no time to rush inside, heart in his throat to make sure that no harm had come to either you or his baby.

“...satoru?” you were sitting on the bed, still pale, the swell of your belly was prominent even under the blankets. he looked at you with a mix of fright and concern and pulled you into his arms, breathing in your scent.

“you alright?” he inquired, voice softened exponentially as he pressed kisses on your head. “does it still hurt anywhere?”

“no, shoko has—”

“your belly no longer hurts? baby okay?” his palm brushed against your abdomen, lips tugged into a very concerned frown, and when the baby kicked him was when satoru could finally heave a sigh of relief.

“you scared me so much,” he whispered into your ear in a rasp and a sigh, before squeezing his eyes shut and reveling in your familiar warmth. one of his hands rested on where your baby was, to feel his twists and turns inside you, while the other continued to hold you in his embrace.

“satoru…” you mumbled, leaning against his sturdy chest and sensing the rapid beats of his heart. you felt exhausted and guilty for having mortified him, but you must clarify one thing. “they said… geto will curse everyone… is that true?”

his heart sank at your innocent question. “for now… can we just stay like this? i will answer you later, but for now…”

and you indulged him. over the years, you learned that satoru needed assurance in physical form more than you did. your heart fluttered as he patted your back and rubbed your belly many times, his worry crystal clear.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t here… and i’m sorry that i tried to hide it from you,” he began. “in my defense, i don’t want you to put you through more stress. you have our baby to worry about already.”

as he explained things to you afterwards—about how your once kind, respected senior was now radically persistent in his pursuit of eradicating non-sorcerers and targeted yuta, your eyes watered with tears once again.

“can you stop him?” your lower lip trembled, beginnings of sobs welling up within you. “satoru… he’s… was—your best friend…”

geto suguru was an undeniable part of your vibrant youth. a part of you never got over how he decided to abandon everything during your last year of high school.

and you knew that your husband too must feel the same, with how crestfallen he looked now. it was the greatest betrayal for him to see the only person who understood him branched away to the worst path possible.

“shh... sweets, look,” satoru made you face him, the blue of his eyes darkening as he joined both of your hands together in his, dropping down on one knee before you. “for now, please— please, just focus on yourself. i don’t want you to get hurt.”

“but—”

“i won’t be able to forgive myself if you or our baby are not the slightest bit fine.”

you went silent at that. gojo satoru never showed his weakness to anyone, and with you, rarely. yet, in this moment, he appeared vulnerable, confessing that losing the only thing that kept him sane—this little family you made—would be unbearable.

“i’m fine, i promise,” you reassured, pulling your hand away before wrapping your arms around his neck, seeking his comfort and letting your tears to finally fall freely. “i’m sorry for earlier…”

“don’t. i should’ve told you sooner, that way you wouldn’t bleed,” satoru firmly rebuked in a grave tone, his voice tinged with self-deprecation as he hugged you again in return, stroking your hair. “did it hurt much? you must’ve been so terrified…”

“i was spooked, but we’re fine…”

“i’m going to take leave for the next few days, yeah? we’re going to be together. i can't—in this state of mind—leave you alone.”

the thought of potentially losing your baby filled him with terror. everything else be damned—including suguru’s atrocities, he had to take care of you first.

because you were the one who stood by his side when his world was at its darkest—you had came to him with the light of the dawn. he was forever grateful to you for becoming the apple of his eye, mending his broken heart, and ultimately becoming his everything.

he wouldn't let anything happen to you. that was his vow to himself. and he was a man of his word.

. . .

it didn't occur to you until much, much later, after all was said and done—after you were notified of suguru's death on december 24, that his mind had been set since then, because satoru had never promised you that he would be able to stop him.

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend.

But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."

Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."

Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."

Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"

"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully.

But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."

He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."

"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."

"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head.

"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."

"Shit."

You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."

He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."

"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan.

While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.

"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not.

He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.

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

Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet.

You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.

When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn.

"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."

Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."

"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear.

The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."

He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."

The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried.

"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him.

He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."

"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."

Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words.

"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him.

Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly.

"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"

Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."

"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."

"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.

You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."

"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."

He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."

You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer.

"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."

You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his.

Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"

He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."

"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"

His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."

You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."

There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge.

"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."

You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"

"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."

You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."

"I won't."

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

Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised.

"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party.

"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone.

"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley.

Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.

As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no."

He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.

"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.

Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."

Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"

Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"

He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."

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

You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.

Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way.

When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."

Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."

"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."

You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"

Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."

"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"

"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."

The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"

He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."

"You were?"

His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."

You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"

He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."

Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go. You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.

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

Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date.

"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.

"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing.

"Yeah, Bub?"

"Can I have a Halloween costume?"

"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.

Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."

Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything.

When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.

"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"

"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."

His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"

A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall.

"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly.

You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."

"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.

"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."

"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."

This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone.

"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."

Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."

"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."

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

Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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tyheartsthragg · 3 months ago

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Devoted

chapter 2 of thragg x reader

note: so sorry it took so long, it's been a very busy month, and honestly i didn't expect so much support thank yall so much (ఠ్ఠ ˓̭ ఠ్ఠ)!! i swear i'll start to try to upload quicker, and longer chapters are on arrival i can promise you that! slow burn, yk? anyways. thank you guys so much once again!

word count: 1317

It's been seven days since Thragg lost his dignity not just as a man, but also as a Viltrumite. Was that a total exaggeration? Maybe. But that also didn’t change the fact that it was a pretty embarrassing moment for him. Perhaps it was the combination of having to rebuild his empire after it was decimated along with the fact that he was rejected by a creature that was much below his status. Or maybe, maybe, Thragg’s confidence was smaller than he thought, who cares? He feels shitty.

Thragg laid in the disgusting bed.

The interaction remained fresh in his mind, a constant in his daily dose of thoughts. Being a Viltrumite and the emperor of such, what he wanted was law. Creatures would succumb under the reign of his demands in fear of their lives and the rest of their species. One small disagreement could lead to the complete annihilation of their society as a whole, everyone feared them intrinsically. It's always been that way. And though Thragg has been denied before, those who did never had the opportunity to live to tell. He supposed a large part of his shock was due to the fact that an insipid bug had the insolence of rejecting him in such a humiliating way and he was entirely helpless to it. Her grating voice rang across his ears like an annoying bug, buzzing and persistent in his head.

Thragg scoffed, his lips contouring into a grunt as his eyes narrowed down at her. “I am participating in an activity that’s known as flirting here. Is that not normal behavior for you humans?” Judging by her bewildered expression–he must’ve gotten wrong.

The woman stared blankly at him, lips curling with distaste. “What are you talking about…” her lips parted to add something, but a sudden beep came from the device wrapped around her wrist, catching her attention. The red light beeping illuminates her face, beeping rapidly before it finally seized. Fixing him with a final glare, her feet rose off the crumbled pavement and straightened out, disappearing into the clouded skies without a word.

Humiliating. Utterly humiliating. He pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance at the memory, carved into his brain as a daily reminder.

He pushes himself off the dirtied cot beneath him–supposedly a bed–and rises to his feet. How does one go from ruling an entire empire of the most feared species, end up in such a dump such as this? He could be on his own planet with his kin, thriving and being shown respect. The creatures on this planet have no idea what that meant. They are filthy, deluded, and insufferable to be around. Each human that showed the slightest hint of arrogance made him want to end their pathetic existence in a flash. Yet, he can’t. He couldn’t afford blowing his cover. Not for him, and not for his people. If only he wasn’t obliged to remain here.

No use in sulking all day. He needed cash, it became apparent in his time here that money is a mandatory need.

He reaches for the rusted doorknob, swinging open the door, hinges creaking at the movement. The warm, afternoon sun quickly fills into the room, his eyes squinting as he adjusts to its light and walking forward, slamming the broken door shut behind him. Glancing down at the crumbled paper in his hand, eyes narrowed as he read the hand-written address on the sheet. That woman who interviewed him a week ago suggested this place, a look of sorrow as she told him about it. Securely tucking the paper into his pocket, he steps forward onto the cracked sidewalk. Orange mixed with light pink hues cover the skies, the sun dipping beyond the horizon with a gentle warm breeze in the air.

Flying would be ideal—but that would just bring unnecessary attention to him. Reporters, journalists, they capture everything. A person couldn’t do anything abnormal without it being published, privacy almost seems nonexistent here.

Sound of cars driving past, shoes scuffing against the pavement as they walked, and children’s laughter in the distance filling the warm air as the minutes blur. It wasn’t far—just downtown, smushed between other tall buildings. Thragg stares at the number engraved into the wood, matching the address written down. He opens the glass doors, and is instantly greeted with an inviting, comforting atmosphere in the small coffee shop. Classical jazz music humming gently in the background, the aroma of freshly roasted nuts and fresh pastries, and a short line of people in front of the counter.

Thragg tugs the paper out from his pocket, its edges ripped and crumbled, a frown falling on his face. As long as they can read what’s on it, that’s all that mattered. It's supposed to be a resume, since each… ‘employer’ he has met always questioned why he didn’t have one. After asking (threatening) one of them, they explained what it meant. It seemed pointless and more complicated, still he wrote it, jotting down his name and age–which had to be realistic, so he went with thirty-six–and finally, his work experiences. None.

The line moves up, customers leaving with steaming coffees in their hands, and he’s next. His eyes wander around the café, pastries and sweets displayed in the small window with drawings decorating the glass. He must’ve not been paying attention because a small gasp pierced his ears, causing him to return his awareness to the task at hand. As soon as he turned his head, the woman behind the counter has a strange expression plastered on her face as she met his eyes, “It’s you.”

Thragg immediately recognizes the woman once his eyes lie on her. The one who rejected him. He can’t even get a word out before she begins to speak, her eyebrows furrowing with irritation. “Are you stalking me or something?” she accused, causing a worker’s eyes to widen slightly and turn to them. “Was my silence not obvious enough for you?” The worker’s eyes flick between the two, approaches beside her, and whispers; ‘are you alright?’ She took a moment to respond, then shook her head, causing him to shrug and leave without protest.

Thragg’s jaw tightens at her words and how blatant she was being, his fingers curling around the thin sheet of paper. He ignores his growing irritation, deciding to go with more of a… civil approach. He understood that on Earth his kind of approach was less than ideal, but to still hold a grudge? It happened a week ago, holding grudges for that long is considered a weakness. “…No.” he began, placing the paper firmly on the counter. “I am seeking an opportunity to contribute my skills.”

“Oh.” she blinked a few times, her hardened expression beginning to soften with surprise. She takes the sheet and observes it with slanted eyes, eyes following the vague writing, then fully brings her attention back onto him. “Interesting resume,” she said gently, and went silent for a second, like she didn’t want to continue. Forcing a polite smile, she sharply inhales, speaking once again, “Your employer is seated at the table on the right. Good luck with your interview, sir.” Her tone is much more professional, any lingering anger for him vanished. Gesturing her hand to the right, a man sits at the isolated table in the corner with a cup and tablet in front of him, illuminating his aged features.

Thragg returns his gaze back to her, words on the tip of his tongue, but none leave him. Grasping the sheet on the counter, he walks away and approaches the senior seated at the table. The man’s eyes widened as they fixed onto Thragg, his glasses drooping down his nose slightly. He clears his throat and pushes them up, peeling his gaze away from him. “Thragg, correct? My name is Steve, please, take a seat.”

note: thragg working at a coffee shop and wearing normal clothing? something i can't picture in my head... anyways, sorry for another short chap </3! ao3 vers--> Devoted - remheartsawa - Invincible (Image Comics) [Archive of Our Own]

#invincible #thragg x reader #grand regent thragg #invincible thragg

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marvelslut16 · 9 months ago

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Field Day

Prompt number: 27 "Let me remind you"

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Teacher!Bucky x teacher!reader (no use of y/n)

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 1.1k+

Warnings: Swearing, a stupid hr policy based off a policy at one of my jobs, a horny woman at work, I think that's it.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been ages since I posted a fic, and this is 2 days late late. I really really want to participate again this year, but I have 2 jobs now and I have some other important things happening this month, so I won't have much time to write. But without further ado, here is day 1!

“Let me remind you that we aren’t allowed to date coworkers,” you sigh, as Peggy tells you that you should finally give into your work crush and go on a date with Bucky.

Bucky is the sweetest soul you have ever met, he’s a little shy but once he warms up to you he’s just a giant teddy bear who will do whatever he can to make your life easier. He’s been your work crush for about a year now, when he switched from second to fourth grade, the grade you teach. Now you have department meetings together, teach science labs together, and go on field trips together. His sweet personality and the forced proximity made it impossible not to develop a work crush on him.

“Technically we can date coworkers, it’s just frowned upon,” Peggy tries to play devil’s advocate, hoping that her friends will finally get over themselves and go on a date.

“Oh yes, Bucky and I can date so long as we report it to HR the moment we go on a date, and they can still decide to fire one or both of us,” you roll your eyes and give your best friend a look before turning back to the playground to watch the kids. “Isn’t that why you waited to start dating Steve until he went to teach at the military academy.”

“Do as I say, not as I do,” Peggy giggles, just as Bucky lets his kids out his classroom door to join yours and Peggy’s for field day.

“What are you two gals talking about,” Bucky saunters over to where you're standing near enough to the playground to see the kids, but far enough from them that they can’t hear what you're saying.

“I was telling her that she should start packing her lunch instead of going out on Wednesday and Friday, much healthier. And obviously, she called me on the fact that Steve sends me lunch from restaurants most of the week,” Peggy smoothly lies. It’s a decent enough fib, but if you were Bucky you wouldn’t believe her.

So where did you end up getting stuck for field day?” you ask Bucky, he was sick the day of sign ups no doubt being stuck with the worst job.

“The dunk tank, damn Stevie leaving the school and leaving me with this stupid job,” Steve always volunteered to do the dunk tank, and now that he’s gone the entire staff quickly snapped up every other position. “What do you have this year?”

“The inflatable obstacle course,” you grin widely, you’d been petitioning the PTA to allocate funds to rent one for field day for the past three years now.

“I told you you could convince those parents to let you rent one, and the kids are going to love it!” you can’t help but blush at his praise.

“Third times the charm,” you give him a small bashful smile.

“I’m in charge of dodgeball in the gym,” Peggy cuts in, reminding you that you aren’t alone and have an audience of almost a hundred kids as more classes spill out of their rooms.

Soon enough the three of you go your separate ways and get field day started. Like every year, the day flies with minimal complaining from the kids, lots of laughing, and just a few scrapes and bruises. The kids all loved your addition to the course this year, all cheering in excitement when they get to your station. Before you know it your class is back at your station and field day is wrapping up, so you take the kids to the refreshments table to grap a dixie cup off gatorade and a cookie.

“Oh dear god,” you murmur under your breath, catching Peggy’s attention as she walks up to the table with her class.

Bucky’s also walking up to the refreshment table sopping wet, black t-shirt and basketball shorts clinging to his rock hard physique. Bucky is an attractive man, anyone who disagreed was either lying or blind, so this wasn’t a new revelation to you by any means. But knowing he has abs is one thing, but seeing his shirt clinging to them is a completely different one. Your heart starts to hammer harder and harder the closer he gets to you, damn Peggy had to get in your head about your crush earlier and you’re on the edge of throwing caution to the wind, and yourself at him.

“What were those rules again,” Peggy whispers, giggling in your ear.

“Can’t remember,” your voice trails off just like your thoughts. It’s unreal and unfair that Bucky could be as nice and as drop dead gorgeous as he is. No man could ever live up to him, and you pity everyone that dares to try.

“Only one person dunked me, and it was one of yours,” Bucky says gruffly, the twinkling in his eyes gives away his humor and pride in the student.

“One of mine?” you grin from ear to ear, your own pride showing at your student. One of your little fourth headers was able to dunk him, when the older kids couldn’t. “Who was it?”

“Me!” Brayden, your secret favorite student, hollers from behind you.

“Way to go Brayden!” you exclaim, the rest of your class cheering as you give him a high five.

“It was hilarious,” Luke, one of Bucky’s students pipes up. “We were at the human wheelbarrow station next to the dunk tank and we saw everything! One minute he was on the seat, and the next he was coming up from the water coughing on it.”

“Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?” you giggle, turning to look at him. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes on his, something the other female staff aren’t doing themselves.

“I will be, once my ego heals,” your two classes laughing at his joke.

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I’m making my chili that you love so much,” you ask Bucky when the kids are out of hearing range. Peggy stares at you wide eyed, it’s like she can hear your inner monologue, in awe of your bravery and taking this chance.

“I would love to,” Bucky has a soft smile on his face, like he’s sensing that everything is about to change for the better. Fuck HR, and fuck this job if it keeps you from being happy and with the man of your dreams. As long as you have Bucky everything will be okay, and you’ll both land on your feet eventually, even if it means finding a new district.

#fictober24 #fictober 2024 #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #teacher au #teacher!bucky barnes #teacher!bucky x reader

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itsdrewharrisontoo · 2 months ago

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The Vault - Week 18 - Revolving Door

Hey Bunnies! How's everyone doing? This past week was pretty cray for me so I do apologize if we haven't had a bonus story in a while, but I am doing my best to catch up on work and writing in between hospital visits lol but here is this week's story, hope y'all enjoy this one!

Word Count: 1,511

Summary: A woman in labor is stuck between revolving doors!

Author’s Notes/Warnings: MDNI. 18+ only. Contains explicit content involving pregnancy, labor, orgasmic birth, nipple and clitoral stimulation, fluid expulsion, masturbation, public delivery, ambulance delivery, and sexual interaction during childbirth. All participants are adults; all content is consensual.

"Shit. Shitshitshitshit—"

Rae’s breath caught as the contraction speared through her, anchoring her in place halfway through the goddamn revolving door. One knee buckled, her palm slammed against the curved glass, the other bracing low on her belly. The door shuddered behind her, stuck at a standstill. She was too wide to move forward, too pregnant to go back.

“Ma’am?” came a nervous voice from outside.

“Don’t touch the door!” she snapped, voice cracking as she hunched forward. Another wave hit, molten and sharp, and she grunted — loud, ragged. “Ohhh—fuck—don’t move it. Don’t move it, don’t—hnnnnnh—don’t—”

Inside the building, a clerk froze mid-step, latte halfway to her mouth. “Do you—should I call someone—?”

“I’m crowning,” Rae hissed through her teeth. “I am crowning. My baby’s head is in my fucking pants and I can’t get out of this door!”

The pressure was unbearable — thick and low and right there. Her thighs were trembling, spread as far as the panels allowed, the hem of her dress bunched under the curve of her belly. She could feel the bulge pushing down, the burn of skin stretching.

Her hand slid between her legs. Wet. Hot. Slick.

She let out a guttural, panicked moan. “Oh God, his head—his head’s there—fuck, he’s coming, he’s coming now—!”

The security guard pressed a hand to the glass. “Ma’am, do you want me to—”

“Touch that door and I swear I will kill you.”

Another contraction seized her. She doubled over, teeth bared, sobbing through a grinding growl. “Nnnnghhhhh—fuck!—I can’t—no no no no—”

“Okay,” the clerk called from inside, trying to keep calm. “Okay, I’m calling an ambulance, just hang on—”

“No time!” Rae shouted, sweat dripping off her brow. “He’s crowning, do you hear me? I can feel hair—”

She gasped, her fingers slipping past the thick swell of her labia. There it was. Wet. Hard. Round. Her baby’s skull stretching her open as another deep, ripping contraction bore down.

She screamed until her throat felt raw…

"—hhhhaaaAAAAHHHH—!"

The door creaked with her weight, body braced between unforgiving glass and solid frame. Her heels scrambled for traction. Her hips twisted just enough to keep pressure off the baby’s head.

"Push," she whispered to herself. “I gotta p-puuusssshhhnngggghhh— "

Outside, someone yelled for towels. Inside, someone else was crying. But all Rae could hear was the blood rushing in her ears — and the thunder of her body splitting open as the widest part of the head emerged.

A sickening, slick pop followed by loud obscene moan

"—HNNNnnnghhh—hhhhaahh—oh fffffuckkkk—!"

The head was out.

Stuck there between her thighs, cradled in her trembling hand.

"Okay, okay," she panted, forehead against the glass. "One more. Just—one mooooooooorrrrrrnnnnghh…."

----

Hope you enjoyed this excerpt!

If you love what you read and want even more, consider joining The Preggo Fantasy Vault! For just $5 a month, you get a brand-new, original birth story every Saturday, plus exclusive bonus stories every now and then, meaning you’re getting way more than four exclusive stories a month—stories you won’t find anywhere else.

So, if you’ve been on the fence, now is the perfect time to join! Let’s make this space even bigger, better, and filled to the brim with the fantasies we love.

Thank you all again—here’s to more stories, more milestones, and maybe… more babies? 😉

Much love, Drew

#birth kink #fpreg #labor and delivery #giving birth #labor kink #pregnancy #pregnant #hard birthing #birthfetish #birth #childbirth #car birth #public birth #inconvenient birth #clothing birth

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brockkboeserr · 1 year ago

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bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last.

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you.

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado.

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’.

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count.

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way.

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house.

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid.

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely.

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you.

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours.

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes.

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy.

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level.

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law.

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it.

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit.

It warms your heart.

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate.

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway.

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander.

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena.

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell.

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility.

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier.

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass.

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp.

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs.

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy.

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff.

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.”

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot.

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces.

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you.

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16.

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer.

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move.

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners.

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy.

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed.

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire.

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more.

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper.

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate.

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently.

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth.

“It’ll be worth the wait.”

And worth the wait it is.

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices.

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too.

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you.

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure.

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other.

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign.

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan.

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up.

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed.

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life.

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie.

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants.

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is.

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you.

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed.

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush.

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss.

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again.

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing.

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body.

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast.

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs.

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone.

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises.

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too.

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths.

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch.

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him.

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better.

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips.

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him.

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm.

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too.

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up.

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs.

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery.

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall.

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake.

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with.

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying.

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap.

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless.

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.”

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing.

The reality of the situation hits you.

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life.

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply.

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time.

“He loves you,” she says.

You’re not so sure.

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here.

It’s not all bad though.

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities.

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school.

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat.

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be.

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.”

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.”

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away.

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same.

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red.

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist.

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded.

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head.

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit.

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up.

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled.

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan.

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone.

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts.

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked.

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass.

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours.

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back.

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again.

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact.

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head.

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.”

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist.

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door.

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again.

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.”

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial.

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug.

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone, it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother.

#nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl x reader #jt compher fic #shelb writes

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inmyminditsreal · 1 year ago

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I Love It When You Ramble

Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You talk a lot, and freak out a lot, And Spencer's always there for you when you do freak out, or talk his ear off, In this you find out how much he actually loves it, or rather- you.

WARNINGS!!!! sweetest shit ever

Thanks for 200 followers!!!! I was eating such a fire chicken sandwich while writing this yall.

It begins..

It would be an understatement to say you could talk a lot. Sometimes you just get these ideas and they run right off your tongue before you can think. you wish you could turn it off, but you can't. It's not like anybody really encouraged it anyway. Multiple instances of you being shut down and shrugged off. This doesn’t really stop you from talking, you're really not as bright and shiny as you used to be, but you'd like to think you're still shining. Plus, you occasionally freak out over stupid shit that isn’t stupid to you. Typical. Now, you work at the BAU. Days, to months, now a year. You can still remember the night before your first day, running your mouth talking to yourself about who you should be. Loud? Quiet? you? It’s shitty to be you sometimes. you decided you'd just be. This wasn’t an easy decision, but it’s worked out pretty good so far.

The walk to work

You live about a ten minute walk from the office, you love this walk, and cherish it really. It's the time to get your thoughts together, you always try to convince yourself to wake up earlier to have “you time”. You bet it’s overrated. Trying to find any peace while working as a profiler isn’t so simple. Any “you time” is spent trying to get into the minds of sadistic psychopaths. The year you've worked at the office has absolutely fucked you up. Not that you're not fucked up already. you are. You found a new family at the bau, one that by not much comparison, is way better than yours. Though, you still talk too much, still get those same “Please shut up” looks. There are only two people at the office who swear they could listen to you for hours, Spencer, and Penelope. Even so, you think sometimes Penelope gets tired of you.

Walking into the office you're greeted with the sweet smell of coffee, old paper, and a smell you can only find in an office that you can't quite describe. It’s welcoming, you can’t deny that. you spot Spencer studying his computer and walk up to him.

“Hey spence.”

He lifts his head up and gives you his sickeningly sweet smile, “Hey come grab your chair and roll over here, I wanna show you something.”

There's a simple sparkle in his eyes that excites the shit out of you. That look makes your stomach flutter.

“Ooooooo! I’m excited. Is it that coffee mug I was showing you? Did you look at their website? I heard that it almost got shut down, which is crazy knowing how much detail and effort goes into their stuff. Still shocked that all of it could be handmade.” you ramble as you roll your chair next to him in a swift motion.

“I’m sorry to say it is not, it’s even better.”

He’s right. He is so right. It’s a photoshopped picture of Hotch with an anime body pillow. On a t-shirt. You start laughing so hard, you can't stop. And as one of those people who explode onto the floor in a silent wheezy laughter, you do just that. It’s an ongoing battle between you two to find the funniest thing Hotch could do, there has been him riding a unicorn, salsa dancing, in a maid costume, etc. This got you so good.

“Jesus, jesus. You win.” you say breathlessly as you stand back up. This obviously catches the attention of Derek and Emily and they walk over. They know about your stupid battle, and despite warning you that he’s going to find out, they of course participate.

“Oh my god? Oh my god.” Emily says as she looks reluctantly at the screen.

Derek just starts laughing. you're still giggling. Your phone buzzes suddenly, it’s a text from your mom.

“Oh god oh god oh no.” you mumble as you look at your phone. Your mom isn’t anyone you want to be hearing from. The simple text reads,

“How’s the bau?” You haven’t told anyone in your family you're a profiler, or where you work, or anything about your life.

Looks are exchanged between Emily and Derek.

“Are you alright?” Asks Emily.

You start to freak out.

“Yeah, Yeah yeah fuck okay yeah. I’m fine, it's alright. I just have to go really quick.” You start as you stand up and almost run out into the hall, pressing the elevator up. Staring at the buttons feeling like dogshit. Your brain is running its mouth, something you have gotten better at keeping in, is the outside talking. It’s still a part of you, but you hope it won't always be. It’s the only way people will listen, if you talk so much they can't look away, can’t ignore you. But at the same time you feel like they never do hear you. Tears welling in your eyes despite this being insanely stupid. The elevator doors open and you step in with a choked breath, someone slips in behind you.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks slowly while hitting the elevator button.

“No.”

He had seen you get nervous but never really freak out. your fists clenched, Skin pale, teeth chattering. You had told him. Only him. A bit about your mom and family.

“What’s happened sweetheart? ” He says with his arm gently landing on your shoulder.

You feel insanely stupid. You walk out of the elevator into the parking lot.

“My mom texted.”

“Oh god, are you okay?”

“Not really, I'm sorry.” My voice starts to break, you bite your lip. “She found out where I work. What am I going to do? Is she going to tell people, make up rumors? Try to get me to come back? I keep my life secret for a REASON. I don’t know how she found out. Do you think someone here told her? I-”

His arms wrap around you and grip you intensely. He takes your arms and places them around his waist. His hand lands on your head, stroking soft patterns into your hair. Gentle. Your hot cheek pressing firmly against the cool vest that’s wrapped around his chest. You exhale into his arms. He cups your cheek and caresses it slowly.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. She can’t hurt you.”

Words that make you melt. You nuzzle into his neck. Just to stay for another minute. Breathing in the scent of fresh laundry, books, and coffee. The only person you'd ever feel so comfortable to hold, and to let hold you, is him. You let go, you know if you don't now you won't ever want to. He looks down at you, for a little too long, then takes your still shaking hand and begins to walk into the elevator. You follow him.

That night, you cried a lot. Feeling so vulnerable that she knows where you are, god and probably who you're with. It’s always power with her. Can’t leave you alone but doesn’t love you enough to actually talk to you, to want you.

Couple days later

Now, You're on a case, in Canada. Triple homicide of teen girls. Typical, yet always disgusting. you're currently in the car, being driven to the nearest motel. You're sitting in the middle of the back, next to Spencer and Emily. You pull out the seatbelt to make it budge and lay your head on it. Uncomfortable, sure, but when you’re exhausted nothing else but rest matters. You start to drift asleep, smelling the leather of the seatbelt, and feeling it rub and glide against your skin. Hearing faint voices and the feeling of being carried out of the car feeling so warm. The subtle smell of coffee floating in the air.

You wake up. Soft hotel bed sheets cuddled into your arms, the familiar smell of well- Spencer, fills your nose. He’s next to you, looking so peaceful with the sunlight hitting him at the most cruel angle, shining on the curve of his nose, the curls of his brown husky hair. He looks so beautiful. All you want to do is lay in his arms and sink into his skin. It's truly tiring loving someone knowing what’s swimming beneath your eyes, in your mind. You know you'd love him and all of his horrors, you hope someone will love you and yours. His eyes flicker open, and land on yours.

“Mornin.” He mutters sleepily. It makes your heart flutter.

“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” You ask while sitting up to stretch. He does the same.

He looks at you and gives you a lazy smile, “Pretty good, I’m assuming you did too?”

“Yeah, yeah. But who moved me out of the car? That's the last thing I remember.”

“I did. I carried you from there onto the lobby couch, then to our room while we were getting checked in, since I was carrying you, they decided everybody should share, and we all agreed.”

You both stare at each other for a little while until you mumble, “Thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He says as you both get up to get dressed and start the day.

He just stares at you, with a look in his eyes, a feeling that you can’t make out.

“For everything. For carrying me in, and always listening to the things i say, for being so sweet, and cute, and hugging me, calming me down, for not ignoring me or wishing i would shut up, or atleast making it seem like you don’t want me to shut up, for spending time with me and making jokes with me, and making me fall in love with you-. Shit. Im sorry. Fuck. Just forget it.” You rub your hands over your face and rub your eyes, “sorry.”

“Okay I’m really sorry.” You mumble.

…

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you when you ramble, when you’re a stuttering mess, when you’re crying, when you’re scared, I love you when you get excited about things like coffee mugs, I love you so much when you’re laughing, when you smile and your whole face lights up. I love you when you get these ideas and they’re so smart I start to feel stupid. I love you when your teeth are chattering and you’re freaking out. I love you how you are- and I will love you forever.” He says so passionately that your knees feel weak. His hands cup your cheeks, silky smooth fingers and rough harsh fingertips. You kiss him, You kiss him like nothing else matters. Morning breath? Maybe, but the taste of loving Spencer Reid is stronger. He returns the favour and pushes you into him, his hands exploring your hips and waist, pulling you up into his arms. You nuzzle into his neck yet again and leave soft peppered pecks along his jawline and down his neck. He dances his fingertips up and down your palm and locks your fingers together.

“I love you, Spence.”

“God I love you too, Beautiful.”

Anyway bonus because im bored

Spencer's POV of carrying you out of the car!!

I see her laying against the seatbelt, a soft trail of drool tipping off the edge of the leather. I swear she’s the prettiest thing. We stop at the hotel, Hotch says,

“Should we wake her up?”

“No. I’ll take her in.” I add while gently unbuckling the seatbelt. Stopping to stare at her for only a second, or 20. A pang hits my heart as I just remember how much she worries, hoping she’s at least at peace in her sleep. I wrap my arms under her, slowly lifting her from the seat. She leans into my chest and I swear it’s the cutest thing I've ever seen. I love her so much. We get inside and I lay her down on the lobby couch, sitting by her side, her head now in my lap. I brush the hair from her face as softly as I can. We get checked in and I pick her up again and carry her into the room, silent footsteps down the hall.

I place her on the bed, take off her shoes, and put the covers over her. Suddenly she's awake, and I tell her to go back to sleep, but she insists on changing into her pjs. Apparently sleeping without them is torture. She’s perfect. Now she’s knocked right out, clinging to the bedsheets, pulling them all on top of her. Doesn’t matter. Rather freeze then take them away from her anyway. I go over today's events, and the last couple days, months, and the day she first got here, looking so beautiful, being so lovely and kind.

When I first met her she talked my head off, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear what she had to say, and it wasn't at all stupid. There's a part of me that used to talk a lot. That part is slowly coming back with her. I want her in my arms, I drift asleep thinking of a life with her.

luv yall

#spencer reid #criminal minds #fem!reader x spencer reid #bau #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencerreid #readerxspencerreid

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nekohime19 · 1 year ago

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Mini Mac # 28 : Snatchable lil guy

Macaque is getting kidnapped with Sanzang!

Perhaps they should have been more cautious. It's not as if Macaque wasn't aware that the journey was dangerous but he usually never participated in battles, staying in the back with the frightened monk. He left the fighting to the golden-furred monkey. He would never admit it but Wukong's fighting form was quite beautiful, he couldn't help but sneak a glance or two every time the sage wielded his staff. The wind made sure to remind him of his wandering eyes at every opportunity, it was becoming quite infuriating.

Macaque sighed as he looked up at the tied-up young monk. Sanzang looked terrified and it was quite understable, being snatched by demons wasn't a pleasant experience. The black-furred monkey was in the same predicament, tied up by a lil thread. He could get out rather easily. He was a master when it came to escapery. But the demons that caught them had a rather troublesome artifact that Macaque wanted to avoid at all cost.

The two demon brothers were parading in their lair, brimming with joy at their catches.

“Can you believe it, brother? We caught the monk!” Cheered the silver horned demon as he put his hand on his hips, Yin, if Macaque recalled right.

“It's all part of the plan!” Chuckled the golden horned demon, Jin. “What do we do next?”

Yin took out a book and flipped the pages, he narrowed his eyes and read very carefully.

“Now we eat him!”

“Excellent ! Let's roast him!”

“Actually, brother. I think steaming him would be better. Makes it tastier.” Intervened Yin as he closed the book. Jin narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, not happy with the interruption.

“I say we roast him.”

“And I say we steam him!”

Macaque couldn't believe those two idiotic demons managed to catch him off guard. His battle skills became rusty after months of letting Wukong do all the fighting, he needed to get back in shape soon. The black-furred monkey gazed at the calabash tied on Yin's slashes, if he managed to get this thing away from the troublesome brothers then escaping this place would be rather easy. Macaque looked up at the monk and quietly loosened the threads around his wrists. Sanzang squirmed in his spot, visibly worried.

“Hush, kiddo.” Shushed Macaque, hoping to come off as reassuring. Sanzang looked even more worried. “Just… keep quiet.” Mumbled Macaque as he crawled towards the brothers.

Macaque dived in the shadows and traveled silently while the brothers were bickering about cooking techniques. The lil guy almost managed to graze the calabash but he was interrupted by someone destroying the wall. Wukong looked absolutely feral, fur bristled, eyes shining like molten lava. His gaze swept off the place and narrowed on the two brothers who held into each other for dear life. He approached them with a razor sharp walk and leaned over the two horned demons.

“Where. Is. He?” He growled, fangs glinting in the dim-lighted cave.

“T-the monk is here!” Yelped Yin as he pointed to Sanzang, who was being rescued by Wujing. Wukong looked over Sanzang, his gaze softening a lil in reassurance (Macaque knew Wukong had a secret developing soft spot for the pilgrims!) but then he whipped his head towards the two brothers and growled once more :

“Where. Is. He?”

Macaque took the opportunity to kick the calabash away from the brothers, getting the dreadful artifact as far away as possible; how those idiots even stumbled upon this was questionable.

“Macaque!” Wukong ran over Macaque, grabbed him and brought him to his face. He then rubbed Macaque against his cheek. “Are you okay? Do you want me to kill those guys? I swear if they touched a single hair on your pretty head I’ll-”

“I'm okay, big guy.” Chuckled Macaque as he put one of his lil paws on Wukong's lips to shush him. “Let's just get out of here.”

“Yeah, sure! Anything.” Mumbled Wukong as he walked out of the cave, gripping on Macaque tightly, as if he was afraid of letting him go.

The same night, as the pilgrims were sitting around a campfire, Wukong wasn't letting go of Macaque.

“Come on, Monkey. Is he your teddy bear now?” Sighed Bajie as he dived in the bowl of soup he prepared. Macaque had to admit, despite the pig being insufferable at times, he was getting better at cooking.

“Shut it, Piglet. You know nothing of best friend bonds !” Growled Wukong.

“My, my, let's not get this heated, right?” Laughed Wujing as he passed a bowl of soup over the golden-furred monkey.

“I'm just glad it's over.” Sighed Sanzang as he rubbed his back, being tied up was not kind on his back.

“You know, when you were snatched up, Macaque, Wukong almost teared up.” Chuckled Ao Lie as he slurped his soup. Wukong looked at the dragon horse in betrayal.

“You when we talked about things that you should keep to yourself Ao Lie?” Sighed Wukong as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah?” Answered the dragon horse.

“This was one of them.” Groaned Wukong. Macaque laughed quietly as he finished his thumb-size bowl of soup.

+ cut scenes

Wukong *after Macaque was snatched* : Nooooo, Bae!! 😭🥺

Wukong *one minute after* : I'm gonna commit murder 😡

Wukong : You know Ao Lie, sometimes you should...keep the tea to yourself, you get me ? 😔

Ao Lie : I don't drink tea? 🤔

Wukong : just stop spilling my feelings to my crush, please 😭🙏

Sanzang : today is gonna be a good day 😌

Sanzang *is being snatched* : here we go again 🥲

Ch1 / Previous / Next

#lmk #shadowpeach #mini mac au #shadowpeach fanfic #lego monkie kid #Mac is snatched #Wukong is mad about it #Nobody snatch his crush

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enjoythesilentworld · 1 year ago

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Simon's Month - Dodgeball

day 3 @youngroyals-events <3 tack

Simon is determined to win the neighborhood dodgeball game. Mostly so he can rub it in Wille’s face.

read below or on ao3 (T, 1.5k).

“Henry, put down the goddamn soda. It’s almost game time,” Simon growls, pointing at the offending beverage.

Ayub sighs and cuts in, “Simon—”

“No!” Simon bursts out, “I will not have my team distracted! I don’t just need to win. We need to crush them.”

Looking across the field to the other team, he finds Wille in the crowd and scowls at him. Wille smiles brightly and blows a kiss. Simon crosses his arms and turns back to his team.

It’s a lovely summer day and maybe Simon will enjoy the weather later, but right now he has bigger things to focus on. Namely, the annual neighborhood dodgeball tournament. Every year, he’s put on the opposite team as Wille, and every year, Simon makes it his mission to rub the man’s face in the dirt. Simon maintains that he is not typically a competitive person. When it comes to this though, to Wille, he admittedly turns into a monster. It doesn’t matter. His neighbors are very aware of Simon’s stance on the importance of absolutely destroying the other team, except for Henry, apparently. He’ll make it up to them later with the strawberry cake sitting in the cooler. First, he needs to whip them into shape.

“Okay! Circle up!” he shouts, clapping his hands together and nodding approvingly as his team gathers around him. “I want all of you to remember how it felt to lose last year. Our performance was embarrassing, and I expect more this time around. Carol, I see you going to Zumba every week. Don’t slack on me today. Henry, I swear to God, stop trying to catch the balls. You don’t have the hand-eye coordination for it. Stick to dodging. Also—”

Simon’s eyes land on Rosh, who’s staring across at the other team and grinning slyly, waving at someone. He tracks her eyeline and finds Maddie wiggling her fingers back.

“Rosh! Stop fraternizing with the enemy!”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Chill out, Simme.” Then she smirks. “Mads said, if we lose, that she’d—”

Simon holds up a hand. “Please stop. I cannot believe this.”

“Bror, it’s just a dodgeball game,” Ayub says, patting him on the shoulder. “Neighborhood bonding and all that.”

“It’s not just a game!” he exclaims. “If we lose, I have to—”

Simon’s cut off by the sound of a whistle, signaling it’s time to start.

He sets his shoulders and gives his team one last glare, then slowly walks to the middle of the field, stopping one pace behind the balls that separate his side from the other side.

Wille meets him in the middle and smiles, giving Simon a once over glance.

“You ready for this, baby?”

“Don’t call me that,” Simon scowls. “Are you ready? To lose?”

He chuckles lightly. “I’m ready to play a fun game of dodgeball.”

“Don’t you dare go easy on—”

“I would never,” Wille smirks and holds out a hand. “I have a prize to win.”

Still glowering at him, Simon shakes Wille’s hand roughly then spins on his heel and stomps away.

With another minor threat to the well-being of his teammates, the whole group spreads out across the grass, getting ready to run.

“Three… Two…”

Another loud whistle signals the start, and, in a burst of yelling, everyone rushes forward — some more quickly than others — and the game begins.

Simon goes in headfirst. In the back of his mind, he focuses on dodging, but uses most of his brain power to get as many people out as possible. He aims for the slower people on the other team and tries not to get too frustrated with the older folk on his own team. It’s meant to be a game for the whole neighborhood to participate in, but a team is only as strong as its weakest player and Simon can’t risk losing, especially not to Wille.

Wille, he notices, is sticking to the back of the crowd, pushing wayward balls back into play and shouting encouraging words. Most of the time, he’s too shielded by other people for Simon to hit him, which is very rude and unfair.

He’s not positive, but it seems to be a pretty close game. There’s still about 10 people in play on each side, and Simon is surprised to see Henry hasn’t been taken out yet. The skinny blond is following Simon’s instructions and not trying to catch anything, and he throws his arms up, whooping happily, when he manages to hit one of the elderly men who’d opted to join. For anyone else, getting out a ninety-year-old wouldn’t be too big of a feat, but for Henry it’s quite impressive. A second later though, distracted by his celebration, Henry takes a ball to the stomach.

Rosh is still in, easily catching balls coming for her and taking people out left and right. Simon knew he could count on her.

A ball just misses his head, and he whips around to see Wille grinning at him.

“You did not!” Simon yells, jumping sideways to dodge another ball.

Cheerily, Wille shouts back, “Get your head in the game, baby!”

In the end, it doesn’t take more than ten minutes until it’s just Simon and Rosh against Wille and Maddie.

Simon glances between Rosh and Maddie, nervously watching the smirk spreading on Maddie’s face.

“Rosh…” he says slowly. “Don’t you dare.”

Maddie mimes lifting her shirt, pretending to flash Rosh, and he knows his friend is done for.

Rosh grins, “Sorry, Simme,” not even looking at him, as Maddie hits her in the shoulder.

“Who are you and what have you done with Rosh?!” he shouts, ducking to avoid the barrage of attacks, now two on one. “I am so disappointed in you!”

Lucky for him, Rosh strolling away to the sidelines is enough to distract Maddie that he gets her out with a solid hit to the knee.

That just leaves Simon and Wille, prowling on either side of the field, eyes locked on each other. Pretty much everyone else seems to have lost interest already, heading for the tables full of food and coolers full of beer, but this game is not over for Simon.

Simon picks up a ball, eyes never leaving Wille, and frowns when the other man barely moves, looking quite unconcerned. Pride flaring, Simon snaps, “If you let me win—”

Wille cuts him off with, “In your dreams, Eriksson!” and squats into a ready stance, motioning for Simon to try to hit him.

It becomes a tense back and forth between them, chasing each other around the field, dodging and diving. The party carries on around them, but he and Wille stay locked on each other.

“Your ass looks great in those shorts,” Wille grins, then chucks a ball right at Simon’s chest.

Simon catches it against himself and rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that to distract me, darling.”

They continue on for, honestly, a little too long. Simon starts to get a little bored, and he can tell Wille is over it, too, but neither of them is going to be the first one to give up.

Simon gets too cocky. He’s thinking about the orange soda he knows is waiting for him on the sidelines, and starts making compromises in his head about Wille’s ‘prize’ and how it won’t really be that bad. Then, Simon makes a mistake. He tries to catch a ball that’s a little too high over his head and it slips through his fingers, falling into the grass.

Simon swears loudly, glaring at the offending ball that’s just lost him the annual dodgeball game and ignoring the few cheers that come from the others. The cheers seem to be more about that the game is finally over, but Simon’s pride is bruised. Wille’s by his side in a second, wrapping him up in his arms and smacking a kiss against his cheek. Maybe if Simon pouts a bit…

“Good game, love,” he murmurs into Simon’s hair. “Come on, let’s join the others.”

When they make it to the sidelines and Wille rushes to get a drink into Simon’s hand, Ayub finds them.

“What’s the prize this time?” he asks, glancing between him and Wille.

Simon takes a swig of his soda and frowns deeply. “I have to do the dishes for a week.”

“Only a week?” Maddie exclaims, appearing out of nowhere with a large slice of watermelon. “You guys gotta come up with better prizes. Rosh gets to—”

“Hey, Mads,” Wille cuts in, slipping an arm around Simon’s waist, “there’s kids around. Maybe don’t finish that sentence.”

The soda helps to soothe the heat on his skin from the summer sun, and Wille’s arm around him helps ease the sting of the loss.

“Congrats on making it through another year without getting a divorce,” Rosh says flatly.

Wille grins and pulls Simon closer into him. Simon grumbles a bit but quickly softens once Wille makes him a plate of food and he receives high praise from everyone for the strawberry cake they’d brought. (Technically Wille made the cake, but no one needed to know that.)

It’s a nice day, and Simon can take the loss if it means spending time like this with the people he loves.

That next week, Wille helps him do the dishes anyway.

#competitive simme #simonmonth2024 #simon eriksson #intothelight #all our words were worth it #yr fic

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theragethatisdesire · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I saw you were doing request, and it sounded to good to pass up. Nanami Kento, 10, angst.

Thank you!

oh you know just how to wound me, don't you????? FINE i shall, but only because i want to read it too lololol enjoy babes!! thanks for participating <3

You're fucked. You're fucked.

Sure, you had escaped the curse, but at what cost? You're somewhere in the sewers of Tokyo, bleeding heavily from a gash in your ribs, and you've lost your partner and the special grade. You would think that after years as a sorcerer, you'd have made your peace with an early end, but all you can think is not now.

It's not explicitly against the rules to date amongst your coworkers, the school isn't so cruel as to deny you the small pleasures you can find in this life so long as you can keep things professional.

But Nanami Kento is as by-the-book as it gets, so when a one-night-stand-turned....something conspired between the two of you, you were initially shocked. Over the last few months, though you'd both forgone a label to mourn over should the worst befall either of you, you've grown to care immensely for each other, the smallest glimmer of happiness in each other's dark worlds.

You should have known better, known that no matter what bliss had seemed to fall into your lap, the cruel world would tear it away and leave you here at the end. Bleeding, alone, and tears rolling down your face.

"Hey!" A familiar voice catches your attention; Nanami's tan suit is slowly becoming visible through the haze of darkness and blood loss.

"Did you exorcise the curse?" You croak out, feeling your vision pulse at the effort you've exerted into speaking.

"I- wait, is that blood?" Nanami crouches beside you, reaches to move the hand you have clutched to your own side. You grip tighter, trying not to wince; you want your last moments, if these are really them, to be quiet, not full of the worry your injury will incite in Nanami.

"...no," you lie, "well, it is, but it's just a little scratch, that's all."

Nanami frowns deeply, easily moves your arms out of the way with how the blood loss has weakened your limbs.

"That's much more than a scratch," Nanami's voice is barely above a whisper.

"I tried to dodge-"

"Stop speaking," Nanami interrupts you firmly, whipping off his jacket, tie, and collared shirt, "you're only going to lose more energy. You have to stay awake."

"Nanami, it's-"

"What did I say?" Nanami's eyes are blazing down at you. "You're not a goner, not yet."

"I just-" you hiccup, a fresh wave of tears rolling down your cheeks, "I want to tell you how I feel. In case..."

"You're not going to die," Nanami says matter-of-factly, ripping his collared shirt to shreds and fastening a makeshift bandage to keep pressure on your wound, "not here, not with me here to help you."

"But I-"

"You're going to live," Nanami's voice breaks, ever so slightly, something you've never heard in the years you've known him, "you're going to live and tell me everything. Promise me."

"Promise," you nod, eyes fluttering, a fresh wave of pain overtaking you as Nanami ties the tourniquet.

"Just stay awake," Nanami presses a kiss to your face, you swear his cheeks are damp, "I'm going to fix this."

#ouch #i'm not great at writing angst i think #but i tried wholeheartedly for you because i also love nanami #i hope you do like it though<3333 #nanami kento x reader #ragehits1000

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crankycake · 2 days ago

Text

I AM DONE MY PROOFREADING AND CHAPTER 13 IS ON THE WAY! THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE

You’re Gonna Go Far

Chapter 12: That’s Life

Summary: “I think we shouldn’t mess with oceans. I’d love to go down there but I think we should keep the peace at the same time.”

“Yesss. Like I wouldn’t wake up some dinosaur that got lucky and lived but I would take lots of photos with it.” Steph agreed.

Thoughts: OML. I’m never going to say when I’m updating again because then I don’t until a month 😔. Like let me be publicly shamed.

Last you saw me, shits happened. My life had been turned upside down and then back together again. Also fainted in the midst of it. Also played Marvel Rivals for the first time, addicted.

Also I can’t believe this has reached 30k, I’m actually gobsmacked.

Enough of my yammering. Let’s get on to the real stuff.

Chapter Title: That’s Life by Frank Sinatra

WARNINGS

EMPHASIS ON THE WARNINGS CAUSE YEAH

Rape is mentioned by two different characters. NOT PETER. Not explicit but I didn’t beat round the bush either.

Swearing

Violence

Abuse

Just all round good stuff

Now please read with caution. You have been warned.

After Peter had successfully managed to convince Bee that the road trip was a good idea he couldn’t stop smiling. He pretty much skipped into Wayne Manor. He was delighted.

It was late enough when he got back. Late enough that all curtains had been drawn in the kitchen and the leftovers were put away. Alfred had a strict schedule, he tried to be in bed by eight if possible. Of course when Bruce was out on patrol you could see him pacing around the kitchen three hours after he said he was going to bed.

Peter had told Alfred he wouldn’t be back for dinner. Alfred told him he’d set aside a plate and true to his word he did. Apparently Alfred didn’t believe in microwaves so Peter had to turn on the oven to warm his food.

He didn’t mind. As he waited his thoughts swirled. If all went successful he could have the key to getting home. This trip could make or break it. Peter’s chest felt like it could explode. From excitement or anxiousness he couldn’t tell.

For the first time he got here he felt hope that he could go back to his reality, but then he got this curdling feeling in his throat and his eyes begin to burn. Leaving this place behind, could he do it?

The Bats, the people of Gotham who so badly need his help. Could he leave them all behind, could he be so selfish. Peter kinda skims over that part when he goes over the plan. If he thinks about it for too long….

Peter shakes his head before tucking into his food. He couldn’t believe Bee had agreed. It was a ridiculous idea. He was praying on everything Bee was dying for a holiday and that it would be the perfect timing for her and apparently it was.

Luck for once was on his side, who would’ve thought. Peter had told Bee all his plans. Everything was meticulously planned out. It was so thorough that Bee had actually looked impressed. When she saw the type of strike they were going to participate in she looked like she regretted ever saying yes.

“The things I do for you dimples….”

But she had agreed none the less. She also agreed to catch up with an old friend while she was there. It was perfect, during that time Peter would go to the museum to visit the scary monsters and Bee could have a nice tea and coffee.

Peters nearly finished his meal when he hears footsteps approaching. Duke in his striking Signal get up, strides into the room.

He does their elaborate handshake, that involved a bird, a bunny and a lot of twisting, before he makes a bee line towards his secret stash.

“Hey Peter. What’s got you so smiley.”

“Bee and I are going to Metropolis to get some rare fabric.”

He wasn’t going to tell them his actual reason. They might want to go with him and Peter couldn’t risk it. He’s lost enough family members Peter reasoned to himself. His luck was going to run out eventually and then kaboom. No more bats.

Duke nodded impressed. “That’s a long way, a way for some fabric. Must be gold or some shit. Surprised Dick will let you out of his sights. How long is it for?”

Peter opens his mouth and then leaves it open. In all his plans and thinking he never even considered Dick wouldn’t let him go. More importantly he hadn’t even thought about having to ask Dick. Now that Duke said it, it’s all he can think about it.

Dick has been protective of Peter since his little fainting incident. Would he let Peter out of his sights for a weekend? A weekend to a place where highly dangerous unknown species are being transported?

Peter hopes had now done a spectacular plummet. His chances were looking slim.

Duke upon seeing his stricken face starts laughing. “Oh man. You didn’t forget did you?”

“Ehm. I may have forgot to mention it to Dick?”

Duke snickers before throwing three gummy bears into his mouth.

“I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Peter brought his plate over to the sink.

“Do you think so?”

Duke hymned and hawed before promptly saying “Nah.”

Peter sprayed the hose in his face before skedaddling.

Ok. Ok ok.

So Dick may not be the biggest fan of his plan but he’d convince him. He’d have to. He’s going upstairs and marches his arse up to Dicks door. He raises his hand up to knock before freezing. It’s a paralysing fear and he can’t move.

For whatever reason knocking on that door is acknowledging Dick as his……caretaker. He settles on caretaker. They never really addressed it before. Both too scared. Every time Dick broached the topic of school Peter shut him down. Peter never talked about Tony, another one who Peter didn’t know where there relationship stood until it was too late.

On one sense their need to define their relationship was never really presented. Or it was quickly brushed over. The only time it was really acknowledged was when Peter accidentally called Dick Dad when he was half asleep. Dick didn’t hear him, thank god.

So in other words Peter wasn’t ready to put a label on their relationship. If he did it was just another reason why Peter shouldn’t go back. He was torn enough as it was. He didn’t need any more reasons.

He’s then reminded painfully of the first time he asked to hang out with Ned when he moved to the tower.

Mister Stark and him were both in the lab. Peter tried not to fidget too much. Ned had asked him to come to his house this weekend. To watch a movie and maybe build some legos.

Peter had immediately agreed until he realised he was living with Mister Stark. He would ultimately need his permission. Question is, would he give it.

Peter promised he would ask him. Ned was over the moon.

That encounter was on Monday. It was now Thursday. Peter knew he had been acting strangely this week. Vision and Mrs Potts and even mentioned it to him. Mister Stark didn’t though. Although he kept a closer eye on him. If that was possible.

Peter was contemplating whether he would be able to sneak out or not when Mister Stark placed the robot arm he was working on down sharply. He winced.

“Sorry kid but I need you to come out with it.”

He was looking at Peter with a ‘let’s cut the shit face’.

”What? What could you mea-mean. I’m not hiding anything!”

”How you managed to keep your identity a secret is beyond me.”

He still hasn’t told that Ned knows and he is pretty sure MJ does well. He hasn’t even told Mister Stark about Johnny.

”That’s not very nice.”

”Now you’re avoiding my question.”

”No I’m not.”

”Mhm. Sure you aren’t. Take it from the master avoider, you are.”

”Really Mister Stark I’m not.”

”Try again Underoos.”

By the look on Mister Starks face he wasn’t getting out of this one. Oh well. Come on Parker, you can do it.

He takes one deep breath before promptly rushing it all out.

“NedaskedmetogotohishouseonfridayandIwaswonderingkfIcouldgo.”

Mister Stark looked like he just had a stroke.

“Come again.”

”Could I got to Ned’s house on Friday, please.”

”Wait let get this straight. You’ve been off this week because of trying to ask me to go to Teds house.”

”It’s Ned but yeah.”

”Can I ask why?”

Tony was looking at his kid and wondering how. How on earth could he manage to overthink this.

Peter was looking at Mister Stark sheepishly.

“I’m not used of asking for permission.”

Mister Stark sighed and threw his arm around Peter.

“Yes you can go and be a nerd with your friend.”

”I can go! Really?”

”Yes Mister Parker you can go. Now let’s go order from that Thai place Pepper likes.”

”Your the best Mister Stark.”

”Yeah your not to bad yourself kid.”

He was so focused on the door that he didn’t hear the other one open from across the hall.

“Dicks not here you know.”

Peter whipped around and came face to face with Stephanie. With a slimy green face mask on and her hair tied up in a messy mop. It was kinda of a look.

“Oh. Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah he’s on patrol with B.” She hummed out.

She then narrowed her eyes at him before grinning. “Can you braid hair?”

“Yeah I can braid hair.” He answered a bit confusedly.

Stephanie clapped her hands and beamed.

“Brilliant!”

She then grasps Peter’s arm before pulling him to her bedroom.

“Now tell me what’s troubling you my dear Peterino.”

🕸️🕷️🕸️

An hour later Peter has his hair in a scraggly pigtail and no face mask as it contained pepper mint.

Between the two of them they had demolished a packet of cookies that Steph had stashed away. Steph had also downed three cups of coffee before Peter had came in which resulted in a caffeine infused sugar rush.

Steph was now coming down for her high and her breathing was slowing. Sleep was on the horizon for both of them when Steph said so quietly Peter nearly missed it.

“Do you miss your Tony.”

Peter has to blink the sleep away before answering.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He says quietly.

Steph hums before waving her hand up in the air. “I don’t know how you do it Peter. I just….”

She let out a sigh as she leaves her sentence hanging in the air. He feels a bit morbid saying he’s used to it so he just takes a swig of 7up.

Silence settles between them. Peter stares idly up at the ceiling before a thought strikes him out of nowhere.

“How many Robins were there?”

“Oh hmmm 5? Dick, Jason, Tim, Me the best and then Damian. Duke was for a small bit with his pals but not really official.”

Peter lets that information sink in. “You became Spoiler then?”

Steph gets a dreamy smile on her face. “Not as easy as that. I was given the Robin mantle to spite Tim in a way. That whole shit show is another story for another day. Some stuff happened to me before I became Spoiler.”

“You gave up Robin for Spoiler because of Tim.”

“No. Unfortunately not.”

Steph got a glassy look on her face.

“A bad man called Black Mask took me and tortured me when I was 15. Psychologically and physically. In the end he got locked up and some mysterious man killed him. Not before he managed to knock me up though.”

She said it in a it doesn’t matter tone but Peter was sick to his stomach.

“After that I gave the baby up to a family in Star City. It was the right choice you know. After the whole ordeal I stoped being Robin. I just couldn’t. Robin was supposed to be a light in the darkness. Something pure in this city. After what happened I felt tainted, I felt like if I put on that costume again it wouldn’t feel right. I wouldn’t be right.”

She took a deep breath and Peter kept silent letting her get through this. He wouldn’t push.

“I took a year out, didn’t talk to Bruce or to Tim or to anyone. Then one day I came home and Bruce was there. He told me he fucked up big time with me. Told me that he didn’t do right by me when I was Robin and that if I let him he would try and be a better mentor I suppose. I’m not like the others, I love Bruce to bits but I’m not really one of his actual kids just likes he’s not exactly my father. We have our own special relationship which means as much to me as anything.”

“I stayed at the manor most days. My Dad was a Villian called Cluemaster. He was a bad guy, a real bad guy but even towards the end of his life, a really teensy tiny part of me loved him. Everyone saw him as a mass murderer. I did too, I knew he was awful. But there was times when I saw him as the guy who taught me how to ride a bike and pick a lock. Times I’d see him as a dad. But then I’d blink and he’d be gone. Standing in his place would be this man who was a stranger who had done so much bad and that needed to be stopped. That’s when I came to Bruce two weeks after he showed up in my apartment and I told him that I wanted to become my own hero and on my own terms.”

“So I became Spoiler to outweigh all the bad that my dad and Black Mask had done. I did it to make sure that no one would have to go through what I had to go through ever again. I’ve been trying my best. So far I think I’ve been doing pretty ok.”

She then takes a big gulp of air before deflating. Peter takes this as his cue to speak up.

“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t even…I’m just…. You’re an incredible person Steph. I hope you know that right. To go through all that and still be happy and to go out there and do good. I hope you know that you never were or are tainted.”

If Steph wiped a tear from her eye Peter didn’t see it.

“Thanks Peter…I’ll miss you.”

“Miss me?”

“When you go back. I’ll miss you. We’ll all miss you. I hope you know that we won’t just forget you.”

She rolls on her side and Peter mimics her. He doesn’t know what to say to that so he just says quiet.

“Tell me what’s it’s like back in your universe.”

Peter complies easily. He tells her about Queens, the Avengers, Ned and MJ. He skips over any family detail but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“What about space and the grape looking alien?”

“Thanos, Space was really cool, seeing everything up close was amazing. The pictures we take pale in comparison to the real thing.”

Even though space was a shit show Peter still loved thinking about it. He could talk about this topic for days on end.

“Space freaks me out.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, what if you don’t come back down and you’re just stuck there.”

Peter didn’t know what was happening. He couldn’t focus on what the others were talking about. All he knew was that there was a searing pain rushing through him at an alarming rate. His vision starts to go a bit wishy washy. He looks up in time to see Drax turn to dust. Fucking dust. He nearly falls to the floor in shock.

His spider senses are blaring at him, screaming in his head wrong, wrong, wrong. He gets the feeling that they didn’t exactly win this fight.

Something is wrong with him. Then he see’s Other Peter blow away and with a gut clenching feeling he knows whats happening. Peter was never afraid of dying, not in the cult, not with Skip or when he was out on the street.

It’s a different story when you have someone worth living for. Then your fucking terrified of the unknown.

He can feel himself give away slowly. He can feel himself desperately trying to mend himself back together and it hurts. It hurts so bad he can’t breathe. He may die from lack of oxygen before the dust gets him. In his last few moments he wants comfort and in his last few moments he needs it.

“Mister Stark.” He croaks out.

Mister Stark turns towards him slowly. The look on his face is pained and his eyes go wide upon seeing Peter.

”I don’t feel so good.” At that moment reality strikes and fear crashes into him.

”You’re alright.” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince himself or Peter of that fact.

”I don’t know, I don’t what’s happening, I don’t.” He crashes into Mister Starks chest and he holds onto dear life. This is it. This is it.

”I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, sir please. Please I don’t want to go, please.”

His legs give out on him. He’s now in agonising pain. His body is fighting against the effects a little too much and it burns.

Mister Stark lays him down on the rocky karst surface, he knows there’s no stopping it. He thinks of the night where Tony and him fought. After Peter went missing for three weeks.

“And if you died. I’d feel like that’s on me.”

Peter looks up at Mister Stark and his pained expression. The lost look on his face. His time is at an end but he can do this. His final breath leave his lungs and it forms the words “I’m sorry.” before he can feel himself finally die.

At least Peter died with Tony beside him. He wasn’t left up there with a complete stranger.

“Yeah I can see where you’re coming from.”

“Mhm.” Steph nodded.

“I’m telling you there’s more cons than pros. The ocean on the other hand. I’d dive into that head first. Whether I lived or died.”

“I think we shouldn’t mess with oceans. I’d love to go down there but I think we should keep the peace at the same time.”

“Yesss. Like I wouldn’t wake up some dinosaur that got lucky and lived but I would take lots of photos with it.” Steph agreed.

They chat like this up until the early hour of the night before Peter gets up and wanders back into the guest room. He’ll ask Dick tomorrow about the trip.

🕸️🕷️🕸️

Peter did not ask Dick about the trip the day after…or the day after that. No no no. Peter had left it till the last week.

Him and Bee were supposed to leave this Friday and he still hasn’t asked yet. Steph and Bee have been on to him about it but he just can’t. In his defence Dick has been really busy these past few weeks. Getting ready for the transfer as well as travelling back and forth from Bludhaven.

When he does try to ask Dick about it his throat clogs up and his senses blare at him. He ends up stumbling into a different line of conversation, something that Dick hasn’t picked up yet thank god.

Peter’s currently in the dining room with the rest of the bats. He fears that if he chews his food any longer his teeth will start to disintegrate. Damian gives him a funny look so he stops it and tries to act normal.

He focuses in on Cass who’s talking about her new production. It’s on the Friday after next so Peter will thankfully not miss it. He thinks he does a pretty good job at acting normal at the rest of the dinner. Nodding and smiling where it seems polite.

Afterwards Peter insists he’ll do the dishes while the others gear up for patrol. Alfred only allows him as he starting to come down with some sickness. Poor Alfred.

Peters humming away while he scrubs the dishes when Jason approaches him. Peter turns to look at him in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”

Jason hops up on the counter besides Peter. “Eh I’m going to give it a miss.”

Peter eyes him suspiciously. Jason’s not one to miss patrol. Peter misses patrol. Really misses it. Dick told him that as soon as he gets his stuff sorted in Bludhaven him and Peter could go on patrol together and Dick would be able to show him the ropes. Peter did counter that he was patrolling Gotham before he moved in with the bats. Dick said it would give him peace of mind so Peter let the subject drop for now.

Peter wondered how much peace of mind Dick would have if he knew what he was planning to do this weekend.

Jason huffed out a sigh. “Ok let’s cut the crap. Something has been bothering you.”

Peter eyes widen, maybe he was chewing his food far too hard this evening. Dam it.

Before Peter can open his mouth Jason’s going full steam ahead.

“Are you mad at Dick cause he’s in Bludhaven all the time. I promised Dick I wouldn’t tell you but he’s really worried about you Peter. He says you start a sentence like you’re about to say something and then completely change it. Or is it something one of us have done.”

And here Peter was thinking he was being discreet about changing his topic of subject. Peter pursed his lips before pretty much spilling out an explanation as to why.

At the end of it Jason had this confused look on his face.

“Are you afraid he’ll say no.”

“No not afraid he’ll say no.”

If Dick says no he’ll find a way around it. It’s the thing that the bond that they have going on between them will finally be acknowledged. That Peter and Dick are father and son. And that terrifies Peter to his core.

Somehow Jason becomes a telepath and his eyes do a blinking motion a couple of time.

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not. I was the same with B. I know it’s hard and scary but one day you’re going to have to have a conversation about your relationship, why not now.”

Then Peter says the thing that frightens him the most.

“What if I mess everything up. I usually do.”

Jason tugs him into his side. “No you won’t Peter. Dick adores you. Of course you won’t mess this up. Ask him when he gets back from patrol. Baby steps. Dick won’t even have that conversation with you until you initiate it, he won’t say anything until then.”

Peter nods weakly but he doesn’t feel so confident. “Ok I’ll ask. Thanks Jason.”

“No problem kid, I’ll finish up the pots for you.”

“Dam. You must really love me.”

“Yeah yeah. Now scram before I change my mind.”

Peter grins and makes his way up the stairs. He’ll ask Dick when he gets back. Everything will be fine. Parker Luck won’t strike him down.

On his way down the hall he scoops up Duchess. It’s an unusual sight to see her without her kittens. Peter hasn’t had the heart to give them away. Although Harley has been hinting pretty hard that she would take one.

She purrs contently in Peters arms before they make their way down to the guest room. He places her gently on the bed before opening his laptop. He’s about to pull up some new suit designs when his hands freeze over the keyboard.

January 27th.

The fifth anniversary of May Parker.

And he had forgotten.

Peter didn’t know why someone would hurt his aunt. May was loving and kind and caring and good. Maybe she was too good. The police officer had explained it to Peter very poorly that a bad person had hurt his good aunt..

May was coming back from her night shift when some old lady had been begging for her help. Told her she had lost her keys in the alley while she was taking out the trash. May had gone over to help her find them with her flash. May never made it out of that alley.

The security camera wasn’t close enough to see what was going on. They found her body in a warehouse. They told him she had drowned which was a nice way of putting it. They had told him they were sorry for his loss. Peter couldn’t say anything back.

His fault. All his fault. If he hadn’t killed Ben then May wouldn’t have had to pick up more shifts. He was so incredibly stupid and selfish and Peter cries himself to sleep that night. And the next. And the next.

Mass was held and Peter sat up the front with May’s family. They had cut contact long ago. May’s sister Melissa screeched at him, told him he didn’t deserve to cry, called him a demon child. Nobody corrected her. Peter couldn’t bring in it himself to be mad. She wasn’t wrong exactly.

Afterwards a strange lady came up to him. Peter remembers thinking she was strange. Not in a bad way. But in a way that made her stand out in the crowd.

Her eyes were smokey white. Her fair nearly touched the ground it was that long and orange was embellished throughout her outfit. She struck her hand out. Told him that the stuff in May’s and Ben’s apartment would be kept with her until he was old enough to understand.

It was weird. Peter looked behind him and when he turned around she was gone. He never saw her again. The next few hours were a blur until he was standing outside his new home.

His social work was a smiling woman named Vanessa.

“Now remember we smile and act polite. You should be grateful the Wescotts were willing to take you in.”

Peter could barely talk anymore. He didn’t have the energy. Peter walked in the door and the smell of smoke was so pungent he began to cough immediately.

Peter was then introduced to his new mum and dad. Archie looked dead inside. Her hair was a mess, eye bags that could rival craters and she only nodded at Peter before locking herself in the bathroom.

Skip was a big man. Big. His top was dirty and he had a grin on him that screamed scumbag. Vanessa only pushed him closer towards Skip. Badda bing badda boom Vanessa left.

(Peter would find out later that Vanessa was one of the ring leaders for a human trafficking group, aka the cult. He was actually supposed to be picked up that day by a woman named Veronica. A half hearted search was out for him but he was ultimately claimed dead.)

Thats when the first blow landed on his cheek. Then the next and the next. Skip told him this was his introduction. Archie only watched him from the stairs before disappearing. Skip soon chased after her.

Peter was settled on the porch when Archie came out. Different bruises from the ones Peter was sporting. She lit a cigarette and held it shakily between her fingers.

”Is he usually like this?”

”No. He’s usually much worse.”

She took a long drag of her cigarette before turning to face Peter.

”I remember when I first came here. Absolute shit show. Wife just left him. He’s gotten better.”

”You’re not his wife.”

“Nope. I’m his supposed foster daughter.”

Peters stomach turned to ice. After his introduction with Skip he had hammered upstairs after Archie. The noises they made ones of pain and one sided pleasure had Peter scrambling outside.

”You gonna squeal kid.”

Peter thought of his options. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. He couldn’t leave Archie all alone. Couldn’t leave her to face Skips wraith all on her own when the social services were eventually called.

”Nah.”

”Good. It’s better this way. Tell ya what. You take the beatings and I’ll take the other shit. We gotta deal.”

She stuck out her hand. Peter took it and shook firmly. From then on out that was it. They scraped by day to day. Peter learnt Archie didnt go to school which meant Peter didn’t either. They both went to the local library together though.

They had to share the same room. Peter always slept on his own though as Archie was in Skips bed. Skip never laid a hand on Peter that way.

Soon him and Archie developed a friendship. Archie would crawl back into bed in the late hours of the night. Always saying the same thing.

“I’ll get us out. Soon it will all be better.”

Peter didn’t know if he really believed her. He always nodded and agreed, for whose sake he didn’t know.

Then Peter got bit.

Then Archie got sick.

Both of them made it out of Skips house but only one made it out alive.

If anyone else was in the room with Peter you could hear his heart shatter. How could he forget. Every vulgar thing Melissa had shouted at him came back full force. He needed out. He needed out now.

Peter couldn’t believe it. He forgot. He actually forgot about May’s anniversary. He stumbles down the stairs two at a time. He opens the door and runs. He’s sprinting down the drive way faster than he’s ever run before. He misses May. He’s awful and he wants May. His head feels like it’s about to crack open. He wants May. He wants to run away from his mind but unfortunately he can’t.

Peters half ways down the drive when he falls. He skids to a halt and he tumbles to the floor. His hands brace out in front of him and ouch. When he’s on the floor he sobs uncontrollably. When he braces himself up he has no tears to cry.

He then sees that he ran into Alfred prized rose bush. He holds his hand out to the bush. They haven’t bloomed yet. Peter left an indent of himself in the bush. He huffs before holding out his hand towards the bush trying to rearrange it to look less broken.

As his hands reach the bush he wishes that it would just go back to normal, so he wouldn’t feel like such an idiot and had to explain to poor Alfred, who wouldn’t be mad but would be silently sad. Then a red swirl appears from his fingers tips before straggling into the bush.

Then like magic the indent disappears. The bush looks as good as new. Peters gobsmacked. His mouth hangs open and he feels like he could faint. Holy Fuck. The magic doesn’t stop there. Oh no, no, no. The bush begins to fucking bloom. Beautiful roses. It’s the fucking end of January.

He then notices that there’s a light glow coming from behind. He looks behind him and then jumps and whips his hand up to his face. His scar is now glowing red and green. He then also realise with a start that there’s a orange tinge illuminating from his chest.

If Peter wasn’t so drained he’d be panicking but he is so very drained. So he walks back to the manor. He creeps quietly back inside. He must look a mess and he still hasn’t stopped glowing. He prays that Jason is still struggling with those pots.

He opens his bedroom door before leaning against it.

Ehm.

His eyes snap open and he comes face to face with a red misty woman. She grins at him and her teeth are deadly. Who on earth is this thing.

“Found you.”

Peter shoots a web at her which goes through her.

“Nice trick.”

Her eyes trail his glow hungrily.

“Master will be pleased with your use of powers.”

“Reality’s your master?”

“Well who else. My names Elsie by the way. Now you have been very hard to track son of Parker. Now let me give you your task. When you go to visit the Shrikes take this with you.”

She holds out a tiny vial with a green liquid.

“Pour this on their tongues and your part of the bargain will be completed. Got it. Do not upset my master or your life will be ceased.”

Peter tires to respond but she just turns into mist and flys away. Peter can’t even question it at the moment. It’s all too much.

He stuffs the vial away. How does Reality know he’s going to the shrikes? What’s an Elsie. Would it be better if he just gave up. Then he pictures Tony and his friends. He can’t give up. He has to make it work.

He’s staring out the window when a knock sounds out from the door.

“Can I come in?”

Peter gives no answer. He doesn’t think he can physically talk right now. Dick peeks his head through the door.

“Hellooooo. Oh! There you are. Is everything ok?”

Peter looks at Dick. Is everything ok. No. No it’s not. And everything was ok for a little while and now shits hit the fan yet again.

Peter must look a mess. Dick only smiles at him. That’s what breaks Peter. He throws himself at Dick before he begins to cry. Dick barely catches him.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. I’ve got you.”

Peter lets it all out. “I miss May. I mi- miss my home but I lo’e this place. I’m sca-scared Dick I’m going to mess every-eve-everything up and get everyone hurt. I just want to stop messing everything up. And I can’t even ask you to-to go on a tr-trip without messing it up.”

“Woah. Slow down bug. Hey hey look at me. You haven’t messed up anything. Hey shh shh. I know I know. It’s ok. I’ve got you. I love you Peter. I love you ok. I don’t care if you miss your other home. That’s fine, that’s completely normal. I’m not upset about that ok.”

Peters breathing has slowed down. He’s now tucked underneath Dicks arm, their backs against the wall.

“Now. Tell me where’d this all come from?” His eyes were roaming all over his face like he knew something had tipped him over the edge.

“It’s May’s anniversary.”

Dicks eyes softened.

“And I forgot.”

His voice cracks at the end and he hates himself a little more for it.

“Oh bug. That’s no fault of your own. How could you have known the date. Your life is pretty weird right now. We only have one calendar in the manor. And you barely even look at your phone or laptop.

“But I should’ve known.”

“Peter your days are long. You’ve been cooped up in the manor for too long. My fault. I should be the one who’s sorry. It’s just with this case in Bludhaven it’s all over the place.”

“I haven’t been cooped up in the manor.”

Peter was allowed to leave, just not yet for patrol. He worked in Bees, hung out with the others outside of the manor. Visited Harley and Ivy every Tuesday. Met Babs at the library. Went to the orphanage often. Dropped Lindy and Charlie to and from school when he was working with Bee. He often minded Lindy now as well, an hour after he drops Charlie off. Her poor dad passed away quite recently. It was hitting their whole family pretty hard. Killed and dumped. It was terrible.

In other words Peter was not cooped up.

Dick smiles sadly at him. “But I should be here for you Peter. And I will be.”

“You are there for me.”

Dick has been bending over backwards to put Peter before Bludhaven, patrol and his whole life in general.

Dick hums. “Do you wanna talk about May?”

“Not today.”

“Ok. What about this trip. Is that what you’ve been meaning to ask me.”

Peter goes red. “Yeah.”

Then he explains his whole trip and how he was scared of telling Dick.

Silence filled after.

“You’re scared Peter, so am I. We’re going to figure this out together, this whole father-son thing.”

Peter nods. “Since you’re going with Bee of course you can go with her to the trip. It’s only a weekend. Don’t do anything crazy and we’re good.”

Peter feels like the worst…son?…ever when he nods.

Dick grins. “That’s my boy. Now come on, let’s watch a movie.”

Dicks on Peter bed watching Empire Strikes back with him cuddled firmly into his side when he wonders how on earth he got so lucky.

Dick knew something was up with Peter. He was happy but he kept trying to say something to Dick these past few weeks before changing subjects. He’d confided in Wally and Jason, both who hadn’t noticed this difference with Peter.

Dick felt like, well a dick. He was stretched thin these days. A mysterious red mist woman has been appearing all over Bludhaven. Never harming. Just whispering some weird spell and turning the odd man into a chameleon. They turn back after several hours but this behaviour needs to be stopped. The lady was untraceable. Didn’t show up on camera. Didn’t t leave fingerprints. She really was mist.

He’s been so preoccupied with this case, the ones with the other monsters and the dread that they’re all connected to Peter.

Peter who’s been going through his own struggles and Dick not being there enough. Well enough is enough. That changes today. Dicks going to call some back up on this case while Peters away for the weekend. The he’ll move to the manor semi permanently. Maybe he’ll look into buying his own house.

“This is my friends MJ favourite Star Wars movie.”

“Oh. Same as Wally then. Your lucky he’s not here or he’d start doing voice overs.”

“If MJ was also here she’d brain him.”

Dick snorts and looks down at Peter. From the few bits he’s heard of this MJ he can tell Peter may have teeny weeny bit of a crush. Dick grins. He would ask about it another day.

”Dick?”

”Yeah?”

”Thanks.”

”For what?”

”Everything.”

Dick smiles at him. “I should be really thanking you.”

Peter furrows his eyebrows at him. “For what?”

”Just for being an amazing son.”

“Now you’re just being mushy.”

”You’re one to talk Mr Thanks for every thing.”

”I don’t remember saying that.”

”Huh. That’s funny. Could’ve sworn you did.”

”Must be your old age getting to you.”

”Oh you’re such a shit.”

Peter lets out a laugh and Dick wishes they could stay in this moment. Peter falls asleep shortly and Dick has to do a tango with his trousers before he gets his phone free.

It took a couple of minutes before he could send a text he was full satisfied with.

The Oldies

Are you guys up for a game of catch?

🕸️🕷️🕸️

”Have you packed enough under wear?”

”BEE!”

“Never be caught out dimples.”

“I’m sure Peter has packed ample underwear.”

“Oh stuff it Damian.”

”Master Parker!”

“Sorry Mister Alfred.”

Alfred somehow heard that but completely missed the rude face Damian pulled at him.

Peter was leaving for his trip and saying goodbye had turned into a difficult affair. He could tell Dick was a bit nervous but he was still all smiles.

Damian, Alfred and Dick were here to see him off. Peter said his goodbyes.

Hugging Damian was like hugging a cat.

Alfred had discreetly slipped a hundred in his pocket while he said goodbye.

Dick hugged Peter extra tight. Then Bee started to beep the car like no man’s business.

“Be good!” Dick called out. Peter waved him off.

Bee and her mini clown car pulled away. “Metropolis here we come.”

“Lord have mercy on my soul.”

“Come on Bee we’re going to have fun.”

“Yeah whatever. Ooo turn this up.”

Peter cranked the volume up to twelve. They pulled away from the manor with Franks Sinatra singing ‘That’s Life’ and Peter couldn’t help but grin. No matter what happens, Peter is going to enjoy how ever long he has left in Gotham.

🕸️🕷️🕸️

”The Shrikes will tear him limb from limb.”

Reality let out a sharp laugh. “If he is all you talk him up to be, he will manage.”

”And if he doesn’t.” Soul asked her sister.

”I suppose you will have to have your bets on someone else.”

Soul gazed into the distance. The gloomy air suffocating her. She wishes she could make something out of this wasteland but she can’t. Her power is no longer her own. Neither are her sisters. A thing that grates on Power to no end.

”Shouldn’t you be more concerned about Ordour. You don’t want precious Peter facing his wraith.”

When Reality said his name the land shook and Soul closed her eyes. She could only fight him off for only so long but when he gained control her sisters were no longer safe.

“If he ever gets his hands on him.” Reality spoke with a serious note.

”I know. I know.”

“The shrikes are his creatures. Elsie said he has accessed his powers. That will give him a fighting chance when he visits the creatures.”

”I truly hope so.”

Reality gets up from her rock and walks over.

“One day my dear. One day. But until then I believe a chat with our dear sister Mind is in need. To see if she found the way to get that vermin out of your head.”

Soul doesn’t say it but she knows that there is no way she will get Ordour out of her head. Not now, not before, not ever.

”I suppose so.”

Extra Thoughts: So…what do we think???

A lot has happened. Firstly Steph. I love Steph. I did a twist on her back story with Bruce but the other things I hoped were close enough to cannon. Please tell me if I write something outrageously wrong or even tiny bit wrong that’s crucial. Also I’ve never wrote SA before so if your like no no you did this arse ways. Please tell me. I won’t be offended.

I adore Archie. I’d do a separate fic of just her and Peter. Her character can literally be summed up with the song You can’t catch me now by Olivia Rodrigo. I adore that song and the character pretty much revolves around that song.

Couple of bonding moment sprinkled in. I swear I will move pass this trip 😭😭😭. The writing block recently has been hitting hard.

I’ve literally have three different unfinished versions of this chapter. It took me that long until I was finally happy enough. Proof reading nearly finished me. I should re read my old chapters but I just can’t 😞. I find mistakes and wonder why people keep clicking this fic 😔.

End of it get a little convo between the stones. Love them aswell. Could write a whole fic about them also.

That’s pretty much all I’ve got to say. Regular updates are not looking like they’re going to happen for awhile but I’ll try my best. Hang in there. Let me know if you want more or less, any characters you want me to bring in. Let me know any suggestions as well or anything that needs to be fixed.

Hope ye all enjoy the rest of your week! And I hope to update before the end of the month…watch me update in like fucking November.

Day this was Wrote: 10/03/25

AND THAT LADIES AND GENTS AND EVERYONE ELSES IS MY PROOFREADING DONE!!!

IF YOU COULDN’T CATCH THE VIBE IM CURRENTLY RUBBING MY HANDS TOGETHER LIKE A FLY, I CANT WAIT TO FINISH CHAPTER 13 AND GET THIS FIC ROLLING AGAIN

WANNA SAY THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE AND I HOPE EVERYONE HAS A LOVELY WEEK AND IT GETS BETTER, IT JUST TAKES AWHILE

UNTIL NEXT TIME XXX

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