#IF i’m speaking frankly but i love making things up in my head :D

[itssofuckingover]

love that a lot of the doctors closest companions and certainly romantic interests share some sort of overt similarity with the master clara and river being the most obvious examples (or when the doctor falls for the master in disguise lol) but i also love that the master is so… petty and jealous that it seemingly never even occurs to them to make fun of the doctor for this very low hanging fruit? like the similarities don’t matter because it’s still not them? i mean they definitely do not go for the jugular nearly as hard as they could in regards to this

[whoreteen]

hello. i love your writing so much. i would love to see some enemies to lovers slash angry sex with Chan, thinking it'd be hot to see him still being so petty and throw each other's remarks while fucking so hard. forgetting they are still at the gathering where friends are still there, hearing everyting loud and clear. please please 🥹

04:52 ♡

⤷ pairing: chan x f!reader. ⤷ word count: 3,8K. ⤷ genre: smut (with feelings 😵‍💫😮‍💨😵‍💫), slight fluff, established relationship, idol!au. ⤷ warnings: exhibitionism, handjob, masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names. (lmk if i missed anything!)

“god, just shut up,” you spit, not meeting his eyes. “i’m not fucking jealous.”

if someone asks you what your biggest regret is, you’d tell them it would be encountering chan. it’s where it got you— parties at random places, intoxicated out of your mind, being reckless…

it’s the temptations and, things you do out of jealousy and possessiveness.

it’s what he does to you.

“you’re such a fucking brat, y’know that?” chan growls through gritted teeth and an equally tight jaw. “why do you make a big deal out of nothing?”

his lustful gaze flickers between your eyes, down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

truthfully, you can’t even say it’s all chan’s fault, but you believe meeting him definitely was the first blow to your breaking point.

like, look where you are now, inhaling weed smoke and taking shots on a wednesday night, shortening your life span by doing so at a random party with a random mix of drunk party people.

begrudgingly.

you wish you weren’t in love with a delinquent. so desperate to get his attention, even if you knew he’ll break your heart into pieces all over again.

you let out a sigh, knowing you have his attention. knowing you both have each other right where you want.

“figures. you want me…” chan tries his best to fight back a smile. “you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

you swallow down the desire to kiss him.

“i see you’re still as delusional as ever,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him as you ignore the pounding of your heart.

he raises a perfectly arched brow as his face moves even closer to yours, causing you to lean back as much as you possibly can until your head hits the wall.

“and you’re still a slut for me.”

his lips are dangerously close to yours as he speaks and you feel your stomach turning. “hm? or am i wrong?”

“w-what are you d-doing?” you stammer out, pushing him away by his shoulders.

you aren’t going to let him win that easy. you can’t ever let him know how desperate you are for him, too.

the idea of him fucking you against the wall while your friends are in the next room sounds perfect. but even if you want him to ruin you, fuck you so hard like it’s the last thing he’d do; you can’t let him know that.

your inhale is sharp, your lips parted, and you finally remember how to breathe when he moves back a bit to properly examine your face.

“see? can’t even act right around me…” he laughs.

you immediately push him by his shoulders.

“baby, you’re so hot when you’re angry, y’know that? fuck, you shoving me like this and pretending to be unaffected is a turn on.”

you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out as you’re he cut off by the gentle kisses applied to your neck.

chan nips at your skin in a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, leaving a few open-mouthed kisses and you can’t help but turn your head, allowing him full access.

normally, you would’ve never even dared to do something like this in a public place, but frankly you don’t give a fuck.

“got nothing to say now, huh?” he questions with a scoff. “proves my point. you want me, too.”

you don’t have anything to say— you’re speechless and your heart is quite literally pounding in your chest with how close he is to your face.

you’re drunk and high, don’t have anything to lose and currently, you want to be chan’s… well, anything.

“fuck you,” you manage to croak out.

his nose grazes yours as he lets out a dark chuckle.

he’s trying to make you give in, however it doesn’t have the desired effect he’s looking for. or so you think.

you hate his guts, and by now, the many drinks you’ve had; the joints you’ve smoke, have already kicked in and you want to be petty. you want to fight with him, just for the sake of it.

“…hmm? not going to deny it, are you?” he closes in on you and he’s silent, waiting for your response.

there is a brief minute in between all of the chaos, where all that is heard is your breaths, and all you do is stare at each other.

that’s before he speaks again, a lot more softer than before, “do you actually think i look at her the way i look at you?” he asks. “or that she can even compare?” his voice tries to soften up along with his features, but you aren’t going to fold so easily.

“bullshit,” you snarl, burning holes into his skull with your angry glare. “besides, i don’t give a fuck. like you said, we’re not together.”

noticing his jaw flex and loosen a few times through his annoyance, he finally lunges at you, pinning you up against the wall again as you groan in displeasure.

you try to twist your wrist out of his grasp that’s slowly getting tighter and tighter.

“no, seriously. do you really think i’d do that to you?” he asks, his tone still cold and demanding as his hands starts to shake slightly with the force of his grip. “after everything?”

“chan,” you groan, still trying to pull away from him. you take another shallow breath and look at him through your lashes, trying not to show how much his words are affecting you. “i’m not in the fucking mood.”

“i’m not playing with you, i’m serious,” he states, before pressing his entire body flush against yours.

his voice softens as he admits, “i missed you so much. you know you’re the only one who can make me feel this way.”

you didn’t mean to, but in that instant, you let a little, ‘yeah, right,’ slip from your mouth and that did it.

chan smashes his lips against yours with a bruising force, his hands still lingering at your bound wrists that he’s moved above your head.

groaning into the kiss, you try to turn your head, but just as you pulled away and got some air, his hands let go of your wrists and traps your face between them instead. he brings your lips against his again, somehow trying to make you feel what he feels.

you try to push him away from you by his shoulders as soon as you feel his tongue desperately prying at your lips, you know it’s over.

this man will be the death of you one way or another.

chan wraps one arm around your head and the other around your waist to keep you there, pressing you firmly against his strong frame, making you sigh into the kiss.

no matter how much you can’t stand him, how furious and angry you are, you just give in anyway, like you always do.

almost like he has some kind of power over you.

you let his tongue tangle with yours as his still forceful mouth causes yours to feel slightly swollen.

when he feels satisfied that he’s finally gotten what he wanted, he pulls away with a loud smack.

you look up at him, finding hooded eyes and parted lips. but before you can respond, a sudden, loud gasp escapes you as chan easily swoops you up with one arm, backing you into the wall, hard.

“someone might walk in,” you gasp in surprise.

“let’s give them a show.”

“fuck—” you moan as his lips leaves butterfly kisses on your jaw. “i can’t stand you.”

he pushes you against the wall, one of his hands harshly yanking your hair so hard tears appear in your eyes.

you know exactly what nerve you’d hit.

“you can’t stand me?” he asks, threading his fingers in your hair before placing soft kisses on the exposed skin on your neck. “yet here you are, all hot and bothered... your skin begging for my touch.”

a sinful, loud moan rips from your throat and goes straight to his cock as he lets his hand come up to your throat before squeezing a little too tightly, backing you further into the wall.

you feel his grip tighten around your neck, hard enough to leave bruises but controlled enough to constrict your airway.

“i hate you.”

“stop fucking lying y/n, you know that’s not true.” he snaps harshly, and you know you’d hit a nerve with him, but you honestly don’t care.

you so hate him… right now, anyway as you’d probably soften up after some time to think.

his hands begin tearing at your clothing, ridding you of your dress rather quickly.

you watch him hold the short, slightly revealing dress up in front of him as he scoffs loudly, “why would you wear this?” he asks, the tone in his voice making him sound more angry than before.

“because you always said it was your favourite,” you say with a smirk, not caring that you’re being a little insensitive.

whatever the motives behind your words were, that did it.

he groans, quickly throwing the dress aside before ripping your bra and underwear off.

you slightly frown as he takes the last of it off and you’re finally naked before him again, his eyes ranking over your exposed body shamelessly.

“i hate you,” you mumble again.

“shut up!” he barks again and you listen, but not because he told you to; because you can’t think of anything to shoot back.

“i’m gonna get you to take that back, fucking watch,” he said in a low tone, pulling his t-shirt over his head before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans quickly.

he doesn’t even bother taking the rest of his clothes off, he just pulls his cock out of his boxers and jeans, letting you see that he’s already hard and ready.

stroking himself a few times, his fingers pulls at his shaft until you watch precum collect on his slit.

chan stops himself with a pleasured sigh just before lining himself up and shoving his entire cock inside of you.

you both gasp in unison before he starts pumping, quickly finding a fast pace.

you moan hesitantly, trying to keep each and every one of them in to show him how mad you are, but that doesn’t really work.

every moan just keeps topping the last and soon you’re withering as he drills you into the wall.

you keep your hands attached to the wall, afraid to let go, seeing as they’d probably just drift towards his hips as they work against yours. you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

but soon, you feel your anger fading away and you can only feel pure pleasure as each of his thrusts makes you feel better…

“take… it. b-back.” chan hisses, enunciating each of his words with rough thrusts.

you shake your head and proceed in keeping your mouth shut as he just moves faster, knowing you’re close.

feeling his mouth dip down to your chest, you let out a whimper as he starts devouring all of the skin there is to reach before licking a trail up to your neck where he begins to bite and suck roughly.

“nggh— oh my god…fuck,” you moan as he finds your sweet spot, but quickly close your mouth before a loud sigh in the form of his name can escape.

you begin grinding your hips opposite of his and he moans louder as holds your hips in place to quicken his pace even more.

finally, you feel your anger reside permanently as your legs wrap themselves tighter around his waist and your hands around his neck.

you watch him crack a small smile for a split second, knowing he’d finally won, before your orgasm starts.

if you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving feedback! love hearing you guys’ thoughts!

[kavehayati]

You know the reason why this feels like such an annoying thing to me is because I’m sooo the opposite of family oriented it’s crazy LOL

I’ll never understand younger siblings whining about their older siblings moving away like I bet yall were nasty and annoying too like wow all those years and you claim to adore the older sibling and post oh woe is me the older sibling abandoned me … girl … the older sibling didn’t have a parental certificate or anything.

[spankedquail]

Putting the D/s dynamic aside, I am curious if you and your husband have any romantic moments in your marriage (like quality time, kissing, cuddling, love making, etc)? Also, what does aftercare look like in ur relationship?

In full honestly, the D/s is not the majority of our marriage, it's just the pervy part that's fun to write about. We have so many romantic moments in our relationship; I honestly doubt the dynamic would work for either of us if there wasn’t a foundation of love, trust, and genuine connection.

We love cuddling—whether it’s on the couch during a lazy evening or in bed before we fall asleep. There’s something grounding about it, like all the chaos of the day melts away when we’re wrapped up in each other. It’s not always some cinematic moment; sometimes it’s just us, half-asleep, in old T-shirts, legs tangled under a too-hot blanket, but it’s ours, and it’s perfect.

Sweet nicknames are part of our daily life, too. I’m always telling him how handsome and wonderful he is (because, frankly, he's 🔥 af), and he never fails to remind me that I’m beautiful, cute, and special to him. It’s not forced or routine—it’s just who we are. There’s a simplicity to those affirmations that I love. It’s like saying, “Hey, I see you, I love you, and I’m glad you’re mine.”

Kissing is definitely a big part of our affection, too. On busy days, we’ll share small pecks as we say hello or goodbye, but when we have the time, we’ll indulge in longer, more passionate kissing. You know the type.

When it comes to intimacy, we’re not really wired for soft, romantic sex—it’s just not who we are. But afterward, there’s always this quiet, intimate moment of connection. We clean up, and then I’ll curl up in his arms or lay my head in his lap while we chill. Maybe we talk, maybe we don’t. It’s the kind of stillness that speaks louder than words, where you realize you’re safe, loved, and exactly where you’re supposed to be.

We also bond a lot over cooking. He’s the better chef and really enjoys it, so he takes the lead in the kitchen most of the time. I love helping him prep and clean up while we chat and joke around. It’s one of those small, everyday rituals that feels special because it’s ours.

We’re big foodies, and one of our favorite things to do is try new restaurants. He’s into wine, so we plan trips to places like Napa or Bordeaux, where we can nerd out over pairings and flavors. But honestly, my favorite thing is just walking around a foreign city with him. No itinerary, no big plans—just wandering. We check out museums, try street food, and stop at little cafes to people-watch. The conversations we have on those walks feel endless, like there’s always something new to discover about each other, even after all this time.

At home, we take walks around our neighborhood almost every night after dinner. We’ll talk about our days, point out the pretty lights on someone’s house, or just share random thoughts and trivia with each other.

It’s not all fancy or traditionally domestic, though—we love the simple, silly things too. We’ll share dumb or cute memes with each other throughout the day, especially if they remind us of each other. It’s our way of staying connected even when we’re apart, and it always makes me smile to know he’s thinking of me.

We also love to gossip together. Whether it’s about a TV show, a funny thing that happened at work, complaining about something annoying a sibling or parent did, or something one of our friends said, it’s one of those small, intimate, but casual things that makes us feel like we’re truly each other’s confidants. There’s a comfort in knowing we don’t keep secrets from each other and that we can share anything without judgment.

Aftercare for us isn’t formal, but it’s always there. It’s in the little reassurances, the way he’ll hold me after a tough moment or make me laugh when I need it most. It’s the quiet, shared decompression where we let the world fade away and just focus on each other.

Thanks for the sweet question 🥰 It’s always nice to reflect on how much love and joy this relationship brings, both in and out of the fun, kinky stuff.

[cordelia-noir]

I have a DBDA prompt for you, if you're interested! I realized earlier today that in episode 5, when Crystal says something like "All three of us lost our lives to boys who went too far, that's a really shitty thing to have in common," she isn't referring to the boys, but to Maren and Shelby! She doesn't actually know the specifics of how the boys died! So my prompt is: what if Charles or Edwin had replied with something like "That makes the five of us, actually," leading into briefly sharing exactly how they died. ✨Trauma Bonding✨

This is definitely more of a gen prompt, but I thought I'd share anyway, in case it peaked your interest 😆 no worries either way, and happy writing!! Hope you feel better soon :D

I’m not sure if I agree with that reading of the scene. In context, I do think that Crystal is referring to her and boys, but the angst! I love this idea for a fic, so here we go!

Read on AO3

“All three of us lost our lives to boys who went too far, that's a really shitty thing to have in common,” Crystal said, glancing back at the police station where Maren had just confessed to her crimes. 

Edwin looked away and swallowed, though by all reasonable metrics he shouldn't need to. 

“I suppose that the same could be said of Maren and Shelby as well,” he said, still looking away, across the street and into the trees. “Though I agree that it is not a club in which I would like to see new members.”

Crystal shook her head.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, looking between the two boys. “I was talking about Maren and Shelby, who are you talking about?”

Charles gave a short little laugh, though it didn’t sound even as joyful as his usual, self-deprecating laughs. 

“Well, I guess that’s all five of us, huh?” Charles said, clapping Edwin on the back. Edwin didn’t react at all, just kept staring into the distance. 

Crystal opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words. When words did finally come out, she was pretty sure that they were still the wrong ones. 

“Wait, how the fuck did you two die?”

Charles looked surprised. 

“Well I died of internal bleeding and hypothermia and Edwin got summoned to hell on a technicality, you know that.”

“Yeah, but neither of those things involve assholes who went too far,” Crystal said, willing it to be true.

Edwin huffed a laugh and turned to start walking toward The Tongue and Tail. Charles and Crystal followed mutely.

“Five boys from my school summoned a demon to “scare me”,” Edwin said, raising his gloved hands to do some frankly unnecessary air quotes, “While they tied me to a table and called me things I’d rather not repeat.”

“Jesus,” Crystal breathed.

“Though I suppose it’s different,” Ediwn continued, undeterred, “since they were also taken to hell, they ruined their own lives as well.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Crystal said when it was clear that Edwin was done speaking for the moment. “But what happened to you, Charles?”

“Some other boys beat me up and chased me into a lake,” Charles said with a shrug.

“In February,” Edwin added, “After saving another boy from a similar fate.”

“Shit,” Crystal said softly. “No wonder you had such little patience for my drama with David.”

That got Edwin to stop walking and do a dramatic turn back to face her. 

“I have dealt with many demons, Crystal,” Edwin said earnestly, “And while David is not particularly powerful, he is remarkably tenacious, even for his kind. I… regret being so dismissive of his actions toward you. I fear that my experiences have made me somewhat numb to the difficulties and I failed to take into consideration what it must be like to be going through it all for the first time.”

Charles moved closer to Edwin so that their shoulders bumped against one another. Crystal wondered vaguely if this was the compromise they’d come to over the years considering Edwin’s general aversion to hugs.

“Well,” she said, stepping up to Edwin’s other side and using her shoulder to bump his arm the same way Charles had. “It’s still a really shitty thing for us all to have in common.”

“Quite,” Edwin agreed. “Well I think that’s quite enough emotion for one day. I am unaccustomed to it. Shall we continue with our work then?”

[nat-seal-well]

I’m in bed now because tomorrow I go in at 3 in the morning and I’m tired. But because I’m in bed, it means I can finally talk about an AU that won’t leave me alone :D

(And yeah, I know I already have 2 I’m working on. Tbh I don’t know if I’ll ever actually do anything with this third one, but it’s fun to think about and rotate around in my head like a Costco rotisserie chicken.)

I watched a movie the other day that was frankly, disappointing, but one of the few things I liked about it was that the love interest-person made dresses. He was a dick and his wife deserved way better (even though she poisoned him to put him in his place and I said “fuck yeah, do it again”), but I thought the whole dress-making thing was really cool. And then, because my mind works the way it does and it always likes to play with AUs, I said, “Hm, what if?”

This is also partially fueled by a very beloved book of mine. Some of my favorite parts in it are when the main character and her sisters are getting ready for a ball and getting sized and fitted for fancy dresses. Idk something about it just really appealed to me. Maybe I like pretty things too much. (To be completely honest, I know I do. It’s why I keep buying jewelry when I don’t actually like to wear any most of the time.)

I don’t have a clear plot for this AU like I do for the other two. Really it’s just a couple of scenes that are vaguely connected. Here’s what I’m thinking:

It would be set in, like, the 18th century or something bc let’s be honest everyone likes that.

Dressmaker!Marin who spends their days lost in their work in some tiny, little local shop that doesn’t get much recognition despite having a handful of very loyal customers.

They’re doing their usual thing when someone walks in and makes the bell above the door ring. This is a surprise, because they aren’t expecting anyone today. They don’t have any fitting appointments and while walk-ins are welcome, the shop doesn’t really get any.

So they put their work aside and make their way up to the front of the shop to greet whoever it is. And, of course, who else could it be but a certain very tall, and very pretty Nat?

(With a disgruntled Ava in tow. She does not want to be there.)

They make their introductions. Nat does most of the speaking, and talks about how she and her very dear friend aren’t from here—they’re visiting on prolonged business, she says. (Agency business, but Marin doesn’t know that.) It was very sudden and neither of them had time to pack properly, and she knows this is very short timing, but they’re going to be in town for a while, and would Marin possibly be kind and generous enough spend part of their day having them measured so they can place a few orders?

Ava says under her breath, “I don’t need new clothes.” To which Nat replies, too quietly for Marin to hear, “Your last dress is currently covered in werewolf blood. It’s either a new wardrobe, or you walk around for everyone to see in your shift.”

(Ava does not want to do that. She reluctantly agrees.)

Marin, of course, is more than willing to help. Partially because they’re eager for new customers, and partially because they find Nat very attractive and when they say yes, she smiles at them and it makes their heart jump. And their face feel warm. How strange.

Naturally, they move on to the actual measuring. Ava intimidates them and it goes smoothly, if more quiet than a usual appointment. They discovered quickly that she isn’t one for small talk. When it’s over and done with, it’s almost a relief.

With Nat, it’s a very different story. Nat makes conversation and is very insightful. She has a nice, soft laugh and makes them feel at ease, and has plenty of compliments to offer after seeing the dresses in display in the shop window. It’s safe to say that Marin is a very flustered mess, even though they’re enjoying her company. A lot.

There’s one moment where she has to get close with the measuring tape. Marin doesn’t notice at first until they realize they can smell the perfume she’s wearing, and then they look up—and wow, she is very tall, Marin has to tilt their head back to look her in the eye, and when did she get so close? They feel jumpy and take a step back, and try to play it off. If Nat almost trips over one of her sentences for some strange reason, Marin doesn’t notice.

Ava notices, though. Because of course she does.

The rest of the afternoon goes relatively smooth, even if Marin does make it a point to avoid making eye contact in order to keep their cool. Ava says she doesn’t care about the details of her garments, as long as they leave plenty of space for her to move around in like she needs. Nat isn’t picky either, though she does have a few things in mind. Marin says that they think she would look good in green.

They thank her, they pay for Marin for their time, and leave. And that’s that. That should be that.

Naturally, it isn’t. Not when Nat walks through the door again a few days later, but not to talk business. Instead, she says, it’s just… to see them. Just because she was “in the area” and thought she’d drop by. (Spoilers: she’s lying.)

One thing leads to another. Nat comes by more and more frequently, and Marin can’t help it when they wind up falling. Hard.

I just have this image in mind of them having quiet, private conversations in an empty shop as Marin works on sewing and beading and measuring fabric, while Nat sits on the other side of the work table and sips on cups of tea. It is soft and intimate and Marin finds they look forward to coming in more and more every day.

Naturally, when their work is done, there would be a scene where Marin is helping Nat into one of the dresses they made for her. Maybe they’re standing back to see it on her in its entirely, looking over their work to search for what can be improved, but oh no—the only thing they can actually focus on is now good Nat looks.

There’s a pause as Marin stands there and tries to get it together to think of something to say. They fail miserably. But why is Nat staring at them like that?

They clear their throat and open their mouth to offer an alteration they could make—a remark about it being just a little too long, or the sleeves extending just a bit too far, or something for them to fix so that Nat can keep visiting for just a little bit longer—but they never get to finish their thought. Because that’s when Nat takes a step forward and places her gloved hands very gently on either side of Marin’s face, and leans down to pull them into a kiss.

(It occurs to Marin later that she never actually looked herself over in the mirror once. Nat was too busy watching them.)

[whumpzone]

firstly i love love L O V E Linden and Colton,

also, i couldn’t resist asking if you could make a part 2 to the vamp colton & human linden that @tidalwhump suggested. Vampire whump is so my weakness and i would die from happiness if you wrote a lil ~something somethingg~

tysm ilyyy

thanks for requesting another little instalment! i really enjoyed writing the first one so this was an easy request to fulfil :D

part one is here!

-

Pet pressed a hand into the bed that his Master had provided. It was strange, so strange, that he had decided to give him one. What was the point?

It was wonderfully soft, but Pet couldn’t lose himself to any sense of enjoyment. Perhaps Master didn’t realise quite what a luxury it was- it wasn’t as if he had put the bed in here specifically for his new possession- but if he did, he would surely take it away.

No, Pet didn’t want to risk it, didn’t want to get attached either, and so he quickly completed the actual task he’d been assigned.

Task might have been too strong a word, frankly: all Pet had to do was change out of his filthy rags and into clean pyjamas. Another mysterious kindness.

He pulled open the door slowly and crawled through. All his movements were trained to be slow. Anything too fast might look like an attempted attack. Master was waiting outside, looking down on him with a definite… softness. Pet knelt before him, in the doorway of his room. He stupidly wished the door was closed, worrying that if Master saw the bed, or its duvet, or blanket, or pillows, he would realise how much his new vampiric plaything didn’t need it.

“They fit,” Master declared. “I’m pleased.”

Pet nodded, and slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, opened his mouth. This was perhaps the most terrifying part of his training. One wrong move and he would be punished for hours- flashing his teeth was not to be tolerated or forgiven- and yet there was no avoiding it. He needed the muzzle back on. When the muzzle was on, he was safe. Fully domesticated.

Master frowned, and Pet realised he wasn’t holding it. Fuck. Fuck. He had opened his mouth too early. He was baring his teeth at his new owner.

He almost fainted then and there. But something in him clearly saw that as an easy escape, so instead he stayed, frozen in fear, waiting to find out what his new Master would do to him.

. . .

Linden was drawing a blank. He wasn’t scared, not quite yet, but still, this new development was unexpected… and unsettling.

The vampire’s fangs had been filed right down, and whoever had done it hadn’t done a very good job. They didn’t have razor sharp ends anymore, but the filing had made them rough and jagged. Linden could see the way they’d scraped constantly against his bottom lip until the delicate skin was torn entirely.

He was still on his knees, unmoving and apparently waiting for something, but Linden was at a loss.

“Uh… h-hey, close your mouth, please.”

He really didn’t want to sound scared. Linden made himself breathe. The pet complied instantly.

“I don’t know what that was, uh, I don’t know what you’re asking for. Can you show me, maybe?”

It was a big ask, and Linden was prepared for the vampire to shake his head and leave Linden in the dark. But, to his surprise, the vampire did start to show him. Linden watched patiently as he moved his curled hands up to his mouth, then drew each one over his cheek and around his ears. Like he was hooking something over them, something that started at this mouth.

The muzzle. He was asking for the muzzle.

Linden had taken one look at the thing when the vampire was given to him and tucked it at the back of a cupboard, out of sight and mind. It was hideous. Clearly pure silver, and Linden had almost dropped it when he saw the pieces of ripped, burnt skin still attached to it. Christ.

“The muzzle?” he confirmed, getting his answer as the vampire curled in on itself even further. He wouldn’t move his eyes from the floor, leaving Linden to speak to his pale blond hair instead. “I don’t know if that’s necessary. Will you bite me?”

That made the vampire react.

His head bent upwards, still without eye contact, but begging Linden nonetheless. He clasped his hands together and whined, actually whined like a dog. Linden almost looked away in disgust.

He was holding his hands very deliberately in front of his mouth, and Linden could see he was trembling all the way through his body. He shook his head desperately, over and over, and when Linden tried to crouch down, to maybe give him a reassuring smile, or another shoulder pat, the vampire whimpered and backed away, screwing his eyes shut in terror. He finally folded completely, pressing his head to the floor and staying there, still as a corpse save for the shaking.

“Okay, okay. You won’t. Let’s just get you cleaned up a bit.”

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 29

anon - reader giving steven little pats? he deserves them 😌💕 doing late night legos with him? LETTING HIM HOLD ONE OF THE PLUSHIES WHILE THEY TAKE A NAP TOGETHER?? 😩😩😩

~~~

anon - Hey!! By any chance do you think you could have the boys comforting reader with a stomach migrane(basically really bad stomach pain that nothing really helps it and often can throw up wether from pain or just nausea) I have one and its prob gonna last a few days lol T-T

Feel free to deny or ignore this, no pressure what do ever!! :D

~~~

anon - Love your baby scarab series!! Idk if Y/N gets sick anymore bc of the spider bite but it would be fun to imagine the boys freaking out when Y/N has a fever and is delirious lol

~~~

A/N : funky time

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : busy busy chapter. never be afraid to leave requests!! and dont worry if you dont see yours for a while, if i havent answered it, that means im working on it.

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

playlist

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), language, spidey stuff, sickness, mentions of violence. let me know if i missed anything

~~~

you and steven were cleaning up from dinner, you and the guys haven’t talked more about why you distanced yourself for a couple days.

and like everyone has said, they understood.

you were drying the dishes while steven washed them.

“so what’s in the bag?” marc asks you, and you turn to face him in the window.

“just something i picked up” you respond, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“it’s dumb so don’t worry about it” you say quickly and set a now dry plate down to reach over to the next one.

“i’m sure it’s not” marc starts. “but you don’t have to show us if you don’t want to” he finishes and you smile to yourself.

it’s quiet for about a minute until jake speaks up. “so are you dating ese niño?” he asks and you cringe.

“no- maybe- i don’t know” you stutter, and jake chuckles.

“but you want to” 

you don’t say anything, while you angrily dry the dishes.

“stop making that face, he’s just being a dick” marc tells you and you chuckle.

“still a hypocrite” you respond, earning a scoff from marc.

~~~

after finishing the dishes, you and steven were on the couch watching your favorite show while he asked you what was happening every five seconds.

it amazed you how dumb he could be sometimes. 

only with non boomer things though, he was really smart otherwise.

you all had been so engaged in just watching tv, that you didn’t even notice khonshu perched on the top of the couch also watching.

you suddenly felt light headed, and sat up completely compared to being leaned up against steven, him looking to you in worry.

“you alright?” he asks, marc and jake suddenly focusing on you too.

“yeah.. i just feel weird all of a sudden” you say, and you take a few deep breaths before getting the chills.

you shiver and steven sits up properly so that he could try and figure out what was wrong.

“my head feels weird” you mutter, steven getting up to get you some medicine.

“i’ll be right back” he tells you right before he leaves.

you just feel out of place right now, for some reason.

like your body is trying to decide wether you’re sick or not.

you feel kind of sick, but not sick at all at the same time, frankly it was confusing.

steven came back with medicine and a thermometer, while you just stared at him with squinted eyes.

“why’s it so bright in here?“ you ask him, your own voice sounding loud in your ears.

“it’s.. not?” he starts, handing you the thermometer.

“under your tongue” he reminds you and you stick it in your mouth, under your tongue like steven told you.

you both waited for a couple minutes before you got bored and yanked it out of your mouth, seeing your temperature to be 104.7.

“oh shit i’m dead” you go completely limp, falling onto steven.

“wait wait wait- what?” he asks confused, taking the thermometer from you and panicking once he saw it.

“holy mother of god, are you okay?” he feels your head, it being way hotter than usual.

“fuck” he mutters and you gasp dramatically, sitting back up.

“steven said a no no word” you look to marc and jake who were eyeing you weirdly.

“guys- did you hear it?” you ask both of them and they nod with small smiles.

“yeah.. we heard it” marc mumbles and you start laughing.

“what just happened? did she take drugs?” steven asks, looking at your eyes for any sign of drug use.

“no, we would’ve noticed sooner” jake says.

“maybe it’s the spider bite” khonshu pipes up, making everyone look to him.

“it would make sense that it would protect her from sickness” he starts. “but she would still feel tired” he elaborates and steven nods.

“that makes sense, yeah?” he asks jake and marc, who both shrug.

you were still sitting up, squinting at the ceiling. “do you think khonshu has ever pecked somebody’s eyes out?” you ask steven, turning to face him.

“like in the birds?” you clarify and he looks at khonshu who was nodding.

“no- no he hasn’t” he shakes his head.

khonshu bangs his stick on the ground out of anger while you reach your hand out for the medicine steven brought you.

he opens the bottle and puts two pills in your hand, and shoves a bottle of water into your lap.

you scoff and open the water, sticking the pills in your mouth and swallowing them.

“i feel like i got hit by a car again” you mutter, steven looking to you in a panic.

“wait- again?!” he asks, and you nod, lifting up your shirt do that you could show him where the bruises were- since they were already healed.

“i got hit righttttt, here” you point to your ribs and put your shirt back down, ignoring the look that marc was giving you.

“and when was this?” marc says in his interrogator voice.

“ay ay ay..” jake shakes his head.

“it was when i stopped the robbers” you tell him excitedly.

“they reversed their car and then i got hit. nobody got it on camera though” you sigh disappointedly.

“good thing they didn’t otherwise you guys would’ve found out” you sigh.

the three of them just stare at you like you’re crazy.

“okay- but how did you not get some kind of infection?” marc asks and you hum in thought.

“my guy in the chair” you answer, earning a groan from marc.

“and who is your guy in the chair?”

“casper”

“of fucking course it’s casper” 

“hey- everybody just chill the ‘f’ out” steven starts. “she’s fine now, just clearly not right in the head at the moment”

“i’m never right in the head” you glare at the floor.

“yes you are” steven says quickly and you smile to yourself.

“it’s almost just like she was when she was sick last time, we can handle it” steven says.

“but this time we have to make sure that khonshu doesn’t tell her she’s going to lay eggs” marc scoffs.

“yeah, she woke up later that night crying because she was seriously convinced she was going to lay eggs” steven replies, marc nodding along.

“i’m not fucking stupid, i know i don’t lay eggs” you speak up, and steven gives you a look.

“watch your language” steven murmurs, but you still hear it.

you just smile innocently at him and take a breath.

“shh” you shush him, and he scoffs. “you’re so loud” you cover your ears.

“do you think her abilities are acting up?” steven asks marc and jake.

“probably” “si” they both answer at the same time.

“y/n, darling” steven starts. “how can i help you?” he says in a quiet voice, as to not hurt you further.

you still heard him perfectly even though your hands are covering your ears.

“do i still have pop tarts here?” you ask and steven nods.

“can you please get some?” you ask again an get another nod.

steven gets up to get you pop tarts while your hearing calms down, not expecting what was next.

you sniff and smell marshmallows as steven gets back.

“thank you- and do you happen to have marshmallows here?” you question and steven shakes his head.

“i can smell marshmallows” you clarify, and marc makes a face.

“what? but we don’t even have any marshmallows here” he tells you and you shake your head.

“i know but they’re coming from-“ you look to khonshu.

“i knew you ate them” you tell the tall bird, and he shrugs.

“no i didn’t” he denies it and you wave him off.

“dude you literally smell like them” you start. “and that’s a compliment because you usually smell like a corpse” you chuckle to yourself while marc laughs at the insult.

“shut it, tiny spector” he grits out at you and you just laugh harder.

“yo, i can smell sand too” you notice and you see all three of the guys giving you weird looks.

“you can actually smell sand?” marc asks and you nod.

“there’s probably still some under the worms bed” jake suggests and steven scoffs.

you sit there for a minute while your sense of smell goes back down to its new normal, wonders which sense would be heightened next.

you rip open your bag of pop tarts, almost sending them flying across the room.

“god damnit” you mutter, steven chuckling at you.

“i will hit you” you threaten, angrily eating the pop tart.

“ooh so scary” marc says from the mirror on the coffee table.

you glare at him and flip him off before rolling your eyes.

“what would you like for supper tonight?” steven changes the subject.

you think about it for a second while chewing on your pop tart.

“‘m not hungry” you say, while taking another bite of your snack.

“you are literally eating a pop tart right now” marc points out and you shake your head.

“but after that im not hungry” you say.

“well, dinner is in a few hours so what do you want” jake cuts in and you hum in thought again.

“i know what she wants” jake says with a small smirk.

you look at him curiously as marc gives him a warning look.

“she wants casper, isn’t it obvious?” he chuckles and you gasp dramatically.

“why are you like this?” you ask, and jake snickers at you. 

“you’re too easy”

“am not”

“are too”

“no-“

“you both need to shut up” marc says, and you glare and jake, to which he glares right back.

you just huff and look away from everyone, closing your eyes while you chew on your pop tart.

“why do you think nobody adopted me?” you ask suddenly, surprising even yourself with the sudden question.

“i mean i was in foster homes almost all my life, so how come nobody wanted me?” you expand the question.

“maybe they knew that we’d want you” marc speaks up, surprising you.

“they were idiots, but we’re glad you didn’t get adopted. if that sounds right, you know what i mean” he explains further and you snort.

“i didn’t think i was that bad as a kid” you tell them.

“you’re still a kid” marc reminds you and you scoff.

“am not”

“are too”

“am not”

“are too-“

“shut up, knobhead” steven directs it at marc and you chuckle.

“yeah shut up” you add on.

“you too, y/n” steven adds even further and you make a face.

you lean back into the couch and pull your knees to your chest, resting your chin on top of one of them.

“are you cold?” steven asks and you nod, feeling him get up off the couch and shuffle stuff around in his closet.

you bring your head up when stevens back with one of his barely used sweaters in his arms.

“would you like to use this?” he asks and you nod, making grabby hands towards it.

steven chuckles and tosses it onto you, so that completely passed your hands and lands on your head.

you yank it off you and pat down your hair, it being a bit static-y.

steven comes and sits back down next to you, while you slide the sweater over your head.

once it was completely on, you leaned to the side so that your head was on stevens shoulder.

“is the medicine helping?” he asks you and you nod.

“that’s good” he says to himself. “are you tired?” another nod.

“get back to sleep, kid” marc speaks up, and you nod again tiredly, letting steven move you so that your laying your head in his lap.

marc and jake just observe as steven runs his fingers lightly through your hair, while you work on trying to fall asleep.

which happens pretty quick because of the medicine and the calming sensation of steven playing with your hair.

you were also very comfortable at the moment. stevens sweater was fairly large compared to your own, which was comforting since it felt like they were all just hugging you as you lay there.

“i’m glad she’s back” jake says almost right after you were asleep.

he could tell you were asleep by the way your breathing slowed and you unconsciously leaned deeper into steven, and also clutching his sweater in your hands.

“yeah, we are too” marc speaks for himself and steven.

~~~

steven didn’t mind letting you sleep on him for the hour that you did.

he found it calming after you’d been away for a while.

you eventually stirred awake, right around the time steven would make dinner.

although the three had switched a couple times to be closer to you, steven ended up being the one fronting when you woke up.

“feel better?” jake asks and you groggily nod as you sit up, now leaning against stevens arm.

he chuckles and taps your shoulder the best he can.

“you have to get up darling, i have to make supper” he tells you and you nod, sitting up completely and taking in a few deep breaths.

“i’ve decided that i’ll just make your favorite for you. as a ‘welcome back’” you both chuckle at his statement.

“if you want, you can set the table when you wake up completely” he tells you and you nod, and stretch as he gets up and goes to the kitchen.

~~~

you did end up setting the table, after you completely woke up of course.

you were both eating dinner now, just chatting about whatever.

“so who kissed first, you or casper?” steven asks calmly and you almost choke on your food.

“i’m not answering that” you say, taking a sip of your juice that steven had for you in his fridge.

“aw come on” he teases. “it’s cute”

“no it’s not” you cough, trying to get him to drop it.

“okay fine” he says and you let out a sigh of relief.

“thank god” you hear marc groan, making you chuckle.

“why do you even want to know so bad?” you ask out of genuine curiosity.

“because he’s a lip virgin, so he’s curious about what it’s like” marc answers for him and steven gives him an offended look.

“hey- i’m not.. i’m not a lip virgin” he cringes while you try your best to ignore both of them.

“yes you are” 

steven stays quiet after that, deciding not to fuel the fire.

you’re surprised you hadn’t lost your appetite.

~~~

the night went by fast, you and steven cleaned up and now you were on the verge of passing out again, this time scrolling on tik tok while laying with steven in the bed.

“if you’re tired, you should turn that off” he advises and you reluctantly do as he said, tossing the phone to the ceiling and sticking it there with webs.

“don’t worry, it won’t fall” you say tiredly, while steven eyes it wearily.

“if you say so” he mutters, bringing you closer to him.

you wrap an arm around stevens chest, while your head rested in between his chin and his collarbone, and it was still comfortable for both of you.

“goodnight, kid” marc says and you just hum, already almost asleep again.

the three guys just engage in quiet conversation as well, until they all got tired too.

it was almost 11 when you fell asleep, and almost 12 when they did.

and you all stayed asleep, right?

~~~

wrong.

you woke up at two in the morning because you were bored.

well, that and your stomach hurt really bad. like someone was stabbing you.

you looked at web md on stevens phone and diagnosed yourself with stomach cramps.

so you carefully peeled yourself off steven to go get your bag that was discarded on the floor.

you reached into it and grabbed the legos you bought, the original purpose being a peace offering.

but now you were bored and awake so why not just build it on the coffee table.

and it would’ve all gone according to plan if steven hadn’t woken up.

“what on gods green earth are you doing?” he asks quietly, yet you still jump.

you stare at him for a second. “legos” is what you answer with and steven sits next you on the floor.

you were in a special position on the floor, for it made the nausea go away.

he picks up the box, and squints at the words to read it correctly.

“death star, huh?” he asks and you nod.

“3,803 pieces” you smile at him while he smiles back and gets up to get his glasses.

you know, because he’s a senior citizen.

he sits back down next to you, and you slide over the instructions, which were already about a third of the way done, so that he could see them.

“how’d you get this done so fast- how long have you been up?” he asks concerned.

you sheepishly smile at him and click more pieces into place.

“like a half hour” you say and he gives you a look from over the edge of his glasses.

“you need sleep” he tells you.

“so do you, grandpa” you deadpan and he smacks you in the arm lightly.

“what happened to you calling us ‘dad’?” he asks and you stop building the legos for a moment.

you don’t answer and just keep building them.

“don’t be embarrassed” steven continues and you sigh.

“i just.. i do see you guys as.. as  my dads but it just- i’m not ready yet” you explain the best you can.

“that’s alright” steven assures you and you smile.

“you said ‘yet’, so that’s all that matters” he chuckles and you so the same.

steven debated on asking you a certain question, but decided against it to give you more time.

you guys built a lego death star until a bit past three in the morning.

you went back to bed after you were done, and slept in of course, but you couldn’t have been happier.

your weird sickness came and went as it pleased, certain abilities dialing up to more than eleven at certain moments.

but it was fine, because you had steven, jake, and marc.

and sometimes khonshu.

your dads and your angry grandpa.

your family.

~~~

A/N : almost to 30 chapters!!! thank you all for your support, you guys are lovely.

dont be afraid to leave requests!! see you in two days :) <3

taglist ---

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @magnificentcreatorpenguin @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin @kingshitonly @brekkers-desigirl @hutaos-gh0st @kayane28

[lunaraindrop]

The Lie Becomes the Truth-A Steddie Fic (Part 3)

Steve felt the sputtered gasp across his lips.

At first, Steve didn’t register what was happening inches below is face. It had been so long since he allowed himself to cry. Crying is distracting, okay? It involves a lot of snot and blurry vision. Steve knew his strengths when came to his looks.

Crying? Na-da.

Steve was not a handsome crier.

Tom Cruise would probably have one manly tear roll down his face.

Not Steve, no.

There was no saving face we he cried. He blubbered like a baby. Forget Dustin cradling Eddie, *Steve* was hiccuping sobs and holding on to Eddie’s shoulders like he had a nightmare and Eddie was his teddy bear. This was all a nightmare. A living nightmare that kept getting worse.

What Steve didn’t realize was that…the proverbial sun was rising. The nightmare was ending. Steve’s teddy bear was trying to speak.

Rearing back, Steve roughly wiped at his face. It didn’t matter what fucking muck he smeared across his cheeks. Eddie was breathing.

Eddie was breathing! And talking!

“…uuurgf…hhhmg…”

Well, kinda.

At the sound, Nancy had stopped chest compressions.

She didn’t need to anymore. Eddie was waking up. The tears had yet to stop rolling.

“Oh-Oh my God! Eddie? Eddie! Can you hear me?”

Both Dustin and Robin’s head snapped up from Eddie’s lower body.

Robin scrambled to the other side of Eddie’s head, while Dustin yelled from Eddie’s patched up abdomen wound.

“He’s breathing?! Is Eddie breathing? Steve!”

But Steve couldn’t answer. He just stared down at Eddie.

Eddie who was alive! Whose hand was searching the around.

What Eddie could have been possibly looking on the Upside Down ground was beyond Steve. It looked like he was doing a drunk impression of Velma from Scooby Doo looking for her glasses. And not, you know, eyes closed and coming back from the dead.

His hand knocked into a dead demobat. Eddie froze before letting out a frightened whimper.

“-stin? D-da…dus..!”

Steve felt a lump in his throat.

Nerdy Velma he was not. This nerd was not looking for glasses. The self sacrifing asshole metal head was looking for Dustin. Almost died, and all he cared about was where the kid was.

Yeah, Steve was fucked. No going back from that moment on. Forget girls, forget possibly other guys. Eddie Munson was *it* for him. Nobody else would do.

Dustin gingerly crawled over until he was above Eddie, near the top of his head. Looking upside down at Eddie, Dustin batted Steve hands away to touch Eddie’s face.

Steve had not been aware that he had stopped holding Eddie’s shoulders. Whoops. He knew he had wandering hands, but he wasn’t trying for second base during a make out session. This was caressing a hurt friend’s face like some love sick sap. It was, frankly, a little embarassing. Steve was Eddie's friend, not his boyfriend. He had fucking *kissed* the guy, and he didn't even know if Eddie liked dudes!

Get your head in the game, Harrington!

“Eddie! Eddie, Eddie! It’s Dustin! I’m okay! I’m here!”

Eddie calmed down instantly, weakly touching the tip of his middle finger to the back of Dustin’s hand.

“Safe.”

Dustin hesitated, looking to Steve, then to Robin and Nancy.

“The bats are still dead. But we’re still in the Upside Down.”

Eddie was faintly shaking is head before he even finished. When he spoke again, it was like he was speaking from far away and with mouthful of marbles.

“N... J’sus ‘rist. Safe! No M’rdor. Go. T-nd -heep. F…find Sam-wis.”

Steve was not alone in his confusion this time. All four of them shot looks of silent communication. They got the gist of what he was saying, however…

Who the fuck was Samwis?

Robin was the first to talk.

“Eddie? Hey, it’s Robin! We’re going to get you out of here, okay buddy? Don’t worry! But, umm, did you just ask Dustin to find you a sandwich? I don’t think you should be eating right now.”

Steve knew that Eddie had not asked Dustin to find him a “sammich”. He might not have spent a lot of time with Eddie, but you only have to hear “Hey Steve, throw me a sandwich” to know how the man makes it a point to cheekily, and not cute in any way, put emphasis on the “a” and “d” in the word like some medieval jester guy. No, Eddie said that word with a capital “S”. He couldn’t exactly remember, but he knew that capital words were some type of important noun, while not capital words were…less important?

Jesus Christ, there was a reason he barely passed high school.

The point was that Steve sucked at grammar, but he aced knowing that Eddie wasn’t talking about food.

Point for him.

But who was Samwis? What was a Samwis?

If Eddie wanted a Samwis, Steve would find the fucking Samwis for him. No questions asked. Whatever Eddie wanted, Steve would make sure he had.

Thankfully, Dustin seemed to translate.

“Do you mean Samwise, Eddie? You want me to find Samwise Gamgee?”

While this talk was going on, Nancy and Robin were making sure the pieces of clothing keeping Eddie’s blood in his body were secure.

And Steve?

Steve just…sat there. Silent. Staring at Eddie breathing.

Eddie was breathing. Panting. In a ton of pain.

But yet to open his eyes.

“-Yah. ‘im. G’o. Fl-y ‘way…fooool…”

Dustin look up at Steve.

“He’s conscious, but something’s wrong.”

Robin spoke up from where she and Nancy were securing her belt around Eddie’s torso.

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s speaking in book quotes.”

Robin nodded. “He lost a lot of blood. He’s delirious.”

Nancy looked at the conscious adults in their group. “He’s as ready as he’s going to be to move. We’ve got to get him to a hospital.”

When Eddie heard her voice, his head tilted like a cocker spaniel with a flea in its ear. When he seemed to register what she said, he started to look frightened again.

All Steve wanted in the entire would was to gather Eddie up and wipe that look from his face.

But he still had not talked. He still could not move.

“No. B’d Rosie! Samwis! Ta-ke Merry nd Pip…Shire. Safe. L’ve me.”

Okay, that did it. Forget that Eddie was so fucking out of it that he was looking for some Sam-thing, and thought Nancy was a goddamn flower. Steve could take action if Eddie was still trying to be a self sacrificing hero.

That was *his* job, goddammit.

He shoved Dustin back as gently as his nerves would allow (He saw that shithead's ankle! Why were all the people he cared about wreckless idiots?! They were going to have words at the hospital. Serious words. After Steve hugged the living daylights out of him.), and slid his arms under Eddie’s back and knees.

“Okay, that’s enough of that! We’re *all* getting out of here, and right the fuck now. Nobody is being left behind, you asshole!”

Any fight Eddie had started to cook up melted out of his body. He went ragdoll in Steve’s arms. The only tells that he had not passed out were his continued breaths, and the smile that graced his face.

“Oh. ‘here you ar’e.”

Still not understanding what the fuck the guy was saying, Steve could not help but smile too. As he hefted Eddie’s living, breathing body into his achy arms, he felt Eddie sigh. For the first time since all this shit began, Eddie looked…content. Like he let go of all of his fear and self preservation he carried.

Even as the demobat wounds screamed at his own sides, he welcomed this brave, grown man curling up into his chest. Steve was no fucking liar. Eddie was alive, and he intended to keep him that way. If that meant he had to carry Eddie out of there, then he would. Nothing was going to stop him.

Well, except being injured and stuck in another demention. Yeah, that sucked. Good thing he wasn't alone.

Steve could be Eddie’s Shire, or whatever that nice place was in his book. He was so down for that.

As everyone else stood up, they all looked towards the trailer in the distance.

“Okay, guys. Any plan on how we get Eddie through the portal?”

[vinamari]

MORE CAMILO PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU😭😭

YOU GOT IT

ANYWAYS

Part 1//Part 2

—

- He likes it when you move some of his hair out of his face, like you know how a little bit of the hair just goes in front of his face yeah that

- He either met you in town or met you when you first came to his home

- He does small things to show he cares for you

“Mi amada, let me help you out with that”

- He seems like a person who’d be shy to express their feelings for their lover in the public so in a way (his way) to show it is by hanging around you or brushing his hand against yours to let you know he’s there

- Physical appearance wise for him, he would have very light colored freckles on his face which makes it hard to notice them in the first place so when you see them while he’s sleeping

- You would be there when he’s pranking people, either helping him or watching it

- He plans out your birthday and the entire day of the birthday

- You both would possibly try and pull an all nighter since he either falls asleep or you fall asleep (rarely if you don’t fall asleep that quickly)

- Speaking of which if you have a hard time sleeping he’ll try to help you get rest, unless you can fall asleep then he’ll sleep with you

- Whenever you both hug his warmth is so nice that you just put your hand on him or put your leg on him when you sleep

- He got used to it

“I’m used to this”

- Watching horror movies is a interesting concept by it self with him

- He quiet frankly is quiet scared like you can feel him shivering

“I am not scared! Why would I be scared to a movie like this?”

“Cami the hem of my shirt is wrinkled”

- 5 minutes before he was gripping to the hem of your shirt

- Attempted to do your hair and got it tangled somehow even if it’s short/medium/long he will get it tangled

- Guide him through it unless you want tangled hair for the entire day looking as if you woke up like that

- That’s it so far with the head canons for Camilo Madrigal! Hope you like it :D

[donutloverxo]

Forever

*gif is not mine*

Note - this is for @buckyownsmylife 's 2k celebration and birthday. Congrats and happy birthday! I've never done a breeding kink so it's very new to me but I hope you like it.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You've been in a secret relationship with Steve for two years. What happens when he tells you he wants to be with you forever?

Warnings - 18+ ONLY PLEASE, smut, breeding kink, sir kink, cum play, anal play, d/s relationship, deepthroating, boss/employee relationship, loosely edited.

Pairing - CEO!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2.6k

You watched him carefully, on the edge of your seat to see how he’d react, although you had a pretty good idea of what he’d say.

“Mm,” Steve made a face, scrunching his nose up, “What is this?”

“Why, it’s pumpkin spiced latte!” you gushed, “Starbucks most popular drink,” trying to hold in a giggle to not give away your little scheme of annoying him.

“I--that’s not my drink, doll,” he frowned.

“Yes! I remember, your drink is iced black coffee, no sugar or cream. I’ve been working for you for two years, sir, it'll be pretty hard to forget.”

“Then why did you get--whatever this is?” he put the cup on his desk, too disgusted to even hold it in his hand.

“I thought you’d like to try something new! Be a bit more adventurous!”

It’ll be pretty hard to get your sir to be anything like that. He has always been so uptight and set in his ways, he had a rigid routine, a clean and proper house which was frankly kinda boring looking which is why you refused to live with him. He had asked you so many times. But you always refused. There’s no way you could live in a house that looked like it was taken out of a magazine catalogue. Where you’d be afraid to even eat anything on or near his expensive and spotless furniture. You’d probably murder him in a month or so.

But maybe he can be more open to other possibilities, he was with you, he should adopt maybe a little bit of your personality as you had done his.

“I’ve got all the adventure right here,” he smiled, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, putting his cheek on the softness of your stomach.

“Hm, your next meetings in thirty minutes,” you hummed as you felt his fingers massage your hips, tempted to run your hands through his golden hair but not wanting to mess it up or make him look sloppy for his important meeting.

“Well, princess, I didn’t have my coffee so now my days off to a bad start. How will I sit through a meeting with Tony Stark? It’s impossible to keep up with that man.

“Um...” you bit your lip, “I didn’t really think of that... maybe I’ll go run and get you a new one right now!”

He chuckled, shaking his head at your naiveté, you were too innocent for you own good, even after being with him and doing the most depraved of things for so long.

He leant back in his chair, spreading his legs, “There is a way you can make it up to me and help me clear my mind.”

You blinked for a moment trying to process his words, “Oh,” you let out when you realised what he meant. “I’m, but...”

“What?”

“My implants expired. I need to get a new one, I’ve got an appoint in two days and I don’t want to take a chance...” you trailed off. There was no way you’d make him come in a condom or anywhere that wasn’t inside you either. So sex was off the table.

“Doll, you need to use that brain of yours sometimes, I know you can, you’re so much more than a pretty face,” he taunted you.

His harsh words really shouldn’t make your panties wet, so much so that you could feel slick running down your thigh but they did.

“You act as if you’ve got just the one hole,” he gave you a faux pout, a hand trailing up your thigh, up your skirt and past your stockings, “I can just use your mouth

....or your ass.”

“What? My ass?” you jumped, wanting to get away from him but he firmly held onto your hip.

You were well aware of his unhealthy obsession with your ass. He had ate it and fingered it, made you wear all sorts and colors of butt plugs so many times, sometimes even in the office. But you absolutely refused to take his dick up your ass.

Nope. Never. Absolutely not. No. Nada.

No matter how many times he’d ask for it, you were not taking his nine inch dick up your poor small ass.

“Relax, doll,” he grinned, “Get to work. I don’t have much time,” he motioned to his bulge.

You simply nodded, quickly scrambling to get on your knees. There were many ways to have sex than the good ol' penis in vagina--even if that was your personal favorite. You could just blow him for the next couple of days and ride his face.

It was honestly ridiculous how you literally couldn’t go just two days without his dick.

You were using your hands to pump his throbbing shaft, giving light kitten licks to his tip to rile him up and to maybe get a taste of your favorite creamy goodies.

“No hands,” he commanded.

And you almost whined. He always does this! Ruins your fun by taking away control from you.

“Not fair!” you mumbled, putting your hands behind your back as he held onto your face to properly use it.

“I decide what’s fair and what’s not, princess,” he stated, pushing your head down on him.

Lifting his hips up, cooing when you choked on him, tears streaming down your face and ruining your sweet makeup.

He tutted, brushing them away with his thumb, “Look at me, doll,” he told you and like the subservient secretary that you were, you immediately looked up. “What the fuck do you spend thousands of dollars on Sephora for if you can’t even get waterproof makeup?”

You frowned in confusion because you didn’t he if he was seriously asking or not. Did he expect you to answer? With your mouth full of dick?”

It wasn’t surprising that he knew what you spent money on, he let you spend as much money as you wanted on anything you liked, but he insisted on having a joint account so you both could be transparent with each other.

He shushed you when you tried to speak--to explain that you’ll try a better mascara next time.

“You look so pretty with your face stuffed,” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied his load in your mouth.

You swallowed it all, knowing well and good by now that sir didn’tlike it when you let anything go to waste, “Thank you, sir,” you smiled up at him as you popped his dick out of your mouth. “I’ll go clean up.”

“You go do that. And remember to be at my place at seven sharp for dinner.”

“Yes sir,” you answered as you tried to stand on wobbly legs.

💍💍💍

He looked at the ring in the turquoise blue box, so bright and shiny and beautiful, so much like you. A big diamond with smaller ones on the band. He was sure you’ll love it. With the fortune that he had spent on it--you have to.

He just wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.

Or how he should go about asking you.

He couldn’t do it at a public restaurant. Even after all this time your relationship was still very much a secret. If people found out you’d have to stop being his secretary. And he wasn’t sure he could bear going so many hours everyday without you. YOU were his life now. How did he ever even live without you?

“Guess who,” he smiled when he heard your sweet voice, and felt your soft hands over his eyes, closing the box in his hand on instinct.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, removing your hands and jumping up and down in mirth, “Is that Tiffany’s?! Is it for me!”

All the screeching and the screaming made him flinch, he got up from his chair, turning around to see you, “Who else would it be for, doll?”

You squealed again, clapping your hands, you tried to snatch it away from him but he held it away, making you frown. You whined like a petulant child when he held it above his head, too tall for you to get your hands on.

“Sir!” you stomped your foot.“Please give it to me! What is it?” you jumped, hoping to snatch but with Steve being over a foot taller than you, it proved to be difficult.

“Uh... honey, you’ll have to wait a bit...” he had planned on cooking a five course meal for you and asking over candle lights, but you decided to show up over an hour early.

You stopped your ministrations, your lip wobbling, “Why...”

He sighed, his heart breaking at the mere thought of upsetting you, “You just have to, princess. Do you trust me?”

You nodded without a second thought. You most definitely did.

“Then you’ll just have to wait.”

💍💍💍

“Oo sir...,” you moaned, pushing on his wide shoulders when you felt his tip brushing against your pussy lips, “Not on birth control. Remember? Just... um.. just.”

He released your nipple from his mouth with a loud, obscene pop, his elbows on either side of your face as he looked down at you, “Just what, princess?”

“Just... um... well could you just eat my pussy tonight? I was so good in the morning to you!” And you missed having his talented tongue on you. Even though you were pretty sure he made you pass out by eating you out just two days ago.

“Of course I can, princess, you know I love the way your cunt tastes.”

Your cheeks heated up as he moved you onto your stomach, propping your hops up with a pillow.

Shivers running down your spine as he pressed kisses to it with his soft lips, over your butt before biting it and making you gasp.

“Love how I can pull all those sounds out of you,” Steve mused. There was no way in hell he could ever be with anyone who wasn’t you. He looked up at your empty hands, how he should have out a ring on it ages ago. He can’t let you go.

He wanted to do this forever. To be with you forever. What was he even waiting for?

“I want to give you my name,” he blurted.

You looked back at him over your shoulder, meeting your lust blown dark eyes, “Huh?” you asked, not sure that you heard him right.

“Mrs Rogers. It has a nice ring to it don’t you think?”

“Um, yes, maybe,” you immediately pushed your head into your pillow, too shy to even look at his beautiful face.

You had thought about being Mrs Steve Rogers the moment you met him. You loved the idea of being his wife and bride. You liked practicing your signature with his name, write your name along with his whenever you wanted to doodle or pass time. He had caught you more than once but never mentioned it.

Since he didn’t even want to tell others about your relationship, you doubted he’d want that kind of life long commitment.

Which was okay. For now.

It sucked but you were never going to beg him or even ask him to marry you.

“Are you just teasing me? If so... then that’s very cruel.”

You knew he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that but then why would he bring that up out of nowhere?

“You know I never lie, sweetheart,” he said, spreading your cheeks to reveal your glistening cunt and your small hole to him. “In fact I think I should prove it to you. Pump you full of my come tonight and knock you up.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked back at him, stuttering over your words and gaping at him like a goldfish.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Hopefully I can we can conceive tonight itself.”

“I – uh – I don’t wanna be pregnant on my wedding day, I don’t want anyone thinking that it’s a shotgun wedding or that I’m trapping you,” you stammered.

“Then we can get married in a month, or even a week. I can’t wait anymore. I want a family with you, I want the whole world to know that you’re mine.” What better way to do that then to literally make you round with his child?

Before you he hadn’t really given having kids any thought. But now he knew he wanted to have a little you. He imagined having just one kid with you. He wasn’t too keen on sharing you so maybe one would be more than enough.

But he hadn’t thought about this aspect of it. The trying phase. How he'd get to keep you full of his cum till you got pregnant.

And how much more beautiful you’d look when you were round with his child, carrying his seed.

“Uh, okay,” you whispered you couldn’t really think straight, it was all happening so fast, but there was one thing you knew for sure--this was all that you ever wanted. To be married to the love of your life and to have his kids.

“What? You’ll have to speak up, doll.”

“Yes, sir, I want to have a baby with you. I want us to be married. Please make me yours,” your eyes watery as you bore yourself to him.

He smiled, moving up to press a kiss to your temple, “That’s all I needed to hear,” he promised.

Turning you to your back, “Wanna see your face when I come in your pussy, doll.” He told you.

Your face was heating up, with the way he was looking at you--as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen, you couldn’t bear to keep facing him but decided to look into his eyes, dig your nails into his biceps as he entered your channel.

“You’re squeezing me so tight, doll, will make me come, ugh,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours once he was completely sheathed in you. He wrapped you up in his strong arms, slowly rocking into you.

“Steve,” you whimpered, “wanna come...”

“I got you, baby,” he hushed you, pecking your lips before being his hand down between your bodies to roll your bud, which had you squeezing him even tighter.

Your entire body quivered as you clenched around his length, gushing all over him. Laying limp in his arms as he started fucking into you.

“You’ll make such an amazing mother... your titts,” he looked down at them, bouncing due to the force of his hips driving into yours. He latched his lips onto a hardened nipple, imagining them fuller and heavier.

“They’ll be even bigger, your hips too...” he whispered against your skin, his nails digging into your skin, sure to leave scars.

“Oh... you’d... you’d...” Make good dad too. He had all the qualities it took to be a good father. And where he lacked you flourished.

You sighed, feeling his warm cum fill you up, he stayed inside you, a leg between and under yours as he laid on his side.

Wiggling his hips to make sure his softening cock was as deep as it could be, so his spend would stay inside you. He collected some that leaked out of your joined sexes with his fingers, bringing it up to your mouth, “Don’t let it go to waste, sweetheart.” As you eagerly sucked his fingers clean.

“Hopefully it takes,” he said, drawing random patterns on your stomach.

“Mhm, guess I can cancel my appointment...” you murmured before drifting off to sleep.

💍💍💍

You yawned widely, sitting up and stretching out all your limbs, aching so painfully since Steve was hell bent on keeping you full of his seed, you could still feel it seeping out of you, he made love to you three more times before he finally let you get some shut eye.

Something sparkly caught your eye, you looked in at your hand and the diamond on it. Smiling in awe at just how lucky you were.

“Wonder if it worked,” you said to yourself, rubbing hand over your tummy.

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[formulawonu]

Hi! I have a request for you if you can, can a request based on “champagne problems” by taylor swift where either daniel, lando, lewis or carlos are dating the reader and think it’s time to propose, and they do it in front of their families or the whole grid but the reader says no, and they broke up, and years later they run into each other again and talk. you can choose the ending between fluff or keep it angst.

champagne problems / lewis hamilton

(gif is not mine! credits to the owner)

warnings: angsty :'(

a/n: i fell in love with this request, thank you so much for it. i got immensely sad writing the last few lines of this :/ taylor swift knows what she is doing. i hope my writing did justice to this beautifully sad song <//3 tried doing smth different and wrote in third person/more of lewis' pov. big cheers to lewis getting 100 wins — what an incredible feat!!! hope you guys enjoy this one :D

He thinks he sees her from across the room but an extra glance tells him it’s not her. She wouldn’t show up here. That isn’t her — something he’s had to learn ever since she left his life two years ago. He is here with someone new and she reminds him of the stars that never fail to show up in the night sky every night. She is constant and he doesn’t need to second guess with her. She understands who he is and knows what he thinks. He is genuinely happy. But she is not her.

“I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He says, looking up at the love of his life from where he is kneeling. They are surrounded by his family and their friends. The most important people in their lives that have become an extension of who they are and know how perfect the two of them are for each other. He planned it all out — the intimate dinner full of all the things she loved. Her favorite food, her favorite people. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Everyone in this room knew it was only a matter of time until they both took the next step forward in the relationship. In this moment, however, he only sees her. That is how it is whenever she is around. It feels like tunnel vision: all roads lead simply to her.

He has always believed that love was unique to different people. He is, no doubt, in love with his current girlfriend and he is so sure of that. She is the calm before and after every storm. He also knows that despite this, a piece of him and the love he is capable of giving will always remain with Y/N. He will never forget how it felt to love her, just as he knows she won’t ever forget loving him.

Something is wrong. All he sees is her and yet she looks terrified. Tears are forming in her eyes and there is an emotion that he can’t quite place yet. It is an emotion he doesn’t see often. “Y/N?” He whispers, trying to read her. At this moment, he doesn’t care that everyone is standing around the both of them. He just wants to make sure she is okay. She looks away from him and looks around the room. He squeezes her hand, trying to get her to just focus on him. He is trying to reassure her that everything is okay. She looks back at him then at the open small box in his other hand. She starts shaking her head, the tears now falling from her eyes. Everything seems to be going wrong.

“I love you, Lewis.” His girlfriend whispers as he sways her back and forth on the makeshift dance floor. It is his friend’s wedding. “I love you more.” He is satisfied with the way his life has turned out. It was difficult the first few months she had left his life and he honestly thought life wouldn’t be okay again. Everything reminded him of her. There were pieces of her in his apartment and pieces of her everywhere he went. Time passed by so slowly as if it wanted him to sink in the emptiness that came when he lost her. But he met her — she made everything bright again and allowed him to see colors in the world that turned grey. She was patient with him. She took the time to understand him and let him find himself again. He is happy. He is in love.

“I- I can’t.” She whispers, still shaking her head. The tears won’t stop falling from her eyes. He understands the emotion in her eyes now. She is overwhelmed. It is regret. He can feel tears building up in his own. Everything begins to spin around the two of them. “Lewis, I… I can’t.” He tries to remain holding her hand, but she forces hers out of his hold. He looks up at her, speechless. There are so many things he wants to tell her. He wants to tell her to forget about everyone around the two of them. He wants to tell her it doesn’t matter how it happens or that they don’t need to get married right away. He would be happy being engaged forever if it meant she would be by his side. He wants to tell her that they could ditch the party and just lock themselves up in their apartment if that was what she wanted. But he doesn’t. He can’t because she is long gone now. She has run outside of the room and has left him in the center of everyone’s gaze. He cannot move. He is stuck on one knee, with his mother’s ring in his hand. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. The first thing he does is close the box and drop it in his suit pocket. He slowly stands up, refusing to look at anyone else. He doesn’t know how to react or how to be. Everything is wrong.

While he is leading his girlfriend back to their table, something catches his attention in the corner of his eye. He has to blink a couple of times, trying to register that it is actually her. There, standing by the bar, is the girl who had left him two years ago. She is standing on her own, her body language still very familiar to him. She does not want to be seen and is trying to simply be a faceless stranger in the crowd. She would not be here if she didn’t need to, but his friends are her friends too and the bride is a good friend of hers. “That’s her, isn’t it?” His girlfriend says, following his gaze. “She’s beautiful.” He flashes a smile at her, nodding. “Yeah. I didn’t think she was going to be here, actually. None of us have actually seen her since it happened.” “Do you want to say hi to her?” He fully focuses on his girlfriend now, trying to understand if she is challenging him or simply curious. All he sees is genuine questioning. “I think you should speak to her, Lewis.” He is unsure if that is the right decision. He does not know what he wants to say to her anyway. “Go. It will make you feel better, even if you don’t know what to say.” She gently nudges him towards her and he is left reluctantly walking towards the woman he has not spoken to since she left him kneeling.

“Hi.” Words escape the both of them, the casualness of a greeting seeming so unfitting for the two. “Hi.” She replies. “How ironic that we’re seeing each other here.” He offers, trying to break the ice. He is not used to this, the awkwardness enveloping the two of them when once in the past he felt he could talk about absolutely anything with her. She visibly draws back at the reminder of the last time they had seen each other too. “Why are you here, Lewis?” She asks with a smile on her face. She was never the type to beat around the bush, that much he knew. She always went straight to the point, never afraid to hear things she might not want to. Like ripping off a bandaid, she once said. “I honestly don’t know why either.” There was no point in lying to her. He doesn’t know what to say, neither does she, and yet it felt right that he could speak frankly to her about the events of the past. “You look happy,” She starts, looking genuinely pleased for him. “You deserve to be happy.” Two emotions bubble up inside of him, one he has not felt in ages. Frustration and defeat. It is all coming back to him.

“We could’ve been happy too.”

She sighs, refusing to meet his eyes. She is still surveying the room, taking in everyone celebrating the union of two lovers. He did not like that about her; she always knew how to hide her emotions. Better put, he did not like how he could not read her anymore. “I don’t want to fight you, Lewis. I didn’t come here to do that.” She picks up her glass of champagne that she has left on the counter of the bar, sipping at it. “Dom Pérignon.” She adds. The champagne she is drinking is her favorite and it is the same one that everyone was drinking the night it happened. Or should’ve happened. A wry smile forms on his face. “I know you don’t owe me an explanation nor should you have ever felt you owed me a marriage, but I just wish you talked to me about it. That was our thing. We always talked about it.” She finally meets his eyes, studying him.

“I just didn’t have anything to say.”

“How could you have nothing to say?”

“I did not know what to say.”

“Then you should’ve said that.”

“I did not have a reason, Lewis. Is that what you want to hear? When you got down on one knee, a thousand thoughts were in my head and none of them told me to say yes. I’m so sorry and you know I loved you immensely—I still do—but I could not for the life of me come up with a reason to know for sure I wanted to say yes.” Just like ripping off a bandaid.

He does not know what to say and he wants to laugh at how she is still able to leave him speechless after all this time. “Well, I’m sorry you felt that way.” That is all he is able to say in reply. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes.” She finally meets his eyes, the familiar gaze of the woman he once swore he would give everything up for. “My mom wants a sorry too.” He finally says after a while, trying to lighten up the mood. “I miss her.” She replies, a small smile forming on her face. His mom absolutely loved her and held a special place in her heart for her. She was just as crestfallen as he was when she saw what had taken place two years ago. “She misses you too. Everyone kind of misses you too. I don’t understand why you had to disappear.” She shakes her head. “It wasn’t me, Lewis. All of this,” She says, gesturing around the grand ballroom. “Is not me.” “Then why are you here?” He doesn’t mean it as an insult, he just wants to know. She frowns at him. “Because Joe and Louise are my good friends, Lew. I wasn’t planning to stay long, though. I just promised Louise I was going to come by and I keep my promises.” He knows she does. He shakes his head at her. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s nice to see you again, honestly. Nice to know you’re still alive.” “I know you didn’t. But I just don’t know who I am when I’m here. It’s all so….” She pauses, trying to think of the right word. “Intense? Overwhelming? Heavy? I don’t know. It just makes you feel so small.” He nods but he still can’t grasp that she had felt this way all this time. Maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought he did. “Don’t blame yourself, Lewis. I can see you doing that now. It was just me.” There is amusement in her eyes and he can’t understand how she is so candid about all of this. “I just don’t understand how I feel like I didn’t- don’t know who you are. I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

She studies him, noting how the creases in his forehead have formed. Something he always does when he is deep in thought. “Lewis, you knew me better than anyone else in this world and I don’t want you to ever feel like you didn’t. What we shared was good, right? It was brilliant.” She offers him a small smile, a consolation for all that has gone on between them. “I will always love you. I don’t think I need to tell you that. You will always be special to me. But what was screaming at me when you got down on one knee was that whatever was happening… It wasn’t right. And I wouldn’t forgive myself if I ever let you go into something so wholeheartedly with me in it half-heartedly. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve someone who would jump into darkness headfirst with you. I hope she is that for you.” She glances around the room again, probably noticing the eyes of spectators that have now noticed the both of you together again. She is beginning to get conscious. The emotions that were beginning to reveal themselves through her eyes are disappearing once again. She is withdrawing. He nods, trying to internalize everything she has just said.

“I’m sorry I lost you. I know you don't want me to apologize, but I’m sorry we ended like that. There are times I wish you were still in my life and there are times I still think about what it would be like if it was us in this position.” His words hang in the air, the both of them looking around the room. “But I’m doing okay. She’s great - I think you two would get along, actually. I honestly hope you’re doing okay. It sucks that I don’t know what you’re doing. I hope you know that you’re still always welcome to just hang out or whatever. Have a chat to update me on your life, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” She nods, smiling at him. She drinks the rest of her champagne before setting the glass back on the bar counter. “That is great to hear, Lewis. I still keep up with your races, you know? A hundred wins, you’ve finally done it. No matter what, I am always going to be proud.” She places a hand on his shoulder, a fleeting squeeze on it, then she drops it. “I’ll try not to be one. But either way, just know I’ll always be rooting for you.” She straightens out her dress then tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve gotta go.” She says, looking up at him. He tries to remember how she looks in this moment because he knows he doesn’t know the next time their paths will ever cross again. She is in a floor-length dress and her hair falls in waves just by her shoulders. Her eyes alight with assuredness and confidence, something that he now realizes he barely saw back then. She is happy too. That is all that matters. He nods, giving her a small smile. “Goodbye, Y/N.” She smiles back at him too. “Goodbye, Lewis.” She begins to walk away, not once looking back. Just like how it was two years ago.

“Hey, Y/N.” He calls out to her. She is not far enough for him to draw attention. She turns around, her head tiled to the side. “We almost had it all, didn’t we?” She chuckles and he can feel the sadness in it. She nods, still chuckling. “We really did. Cheers.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Worth the World

Spike x Reader

Words: 2459

Summary: On a particularly bad day, the reader can barely bring herself to get out of bed. Spike does his best to comfort his girlfriend without being overbearing. 

Notes: This is inspired by one of my favorite fics ever by @suckmysupernatural. I got this idea when having a depressive episode myself, so I hope you guys enjoy a little comfort fic with one of my favorite vamps. Plus, I’ve never written for Spike before and since I’m getting back into Buffy, I thought this would be the perfect time. (Also, this is entirely based on my own experience, so it might not be everyone’s experience with this kind of thing {but please be nice, I just used a few of the things I felt so it’s all based on my own emotions and insecurities!}) Enjoy!

Warnings: Depression, self-loathing, anxiety (This imagine was really just a way for me to put down my emotions and write something comforting, but I hope you all like it too)

-

You didn’t want to move. You weren’t really sure if you could. Your limbs just felt… heavy. Forcing your legs to move, you slowly swung them over the side of the bed, using all the strength you could muster to sit up straight. 

It wasn’t that something terrible had happened. In fact, the day before had gone pretty well. You’d spent most of it watching movies with Willow and Buffy and, when the sunset, you went on a long evening walk with your boyfriend. There were no deadly forces plotting world domination, no vengeful vamps after you or your friends. Hell, your favorite restaurant was open and you brought home leftovers for breakfast. 

Now, the idea of eating made your stomach turn. You managed to shuffle your way to the kitchen of your apartment, but just stood in front of the counter, leaning on the marble top for support. Just standing there felt like it took every ounce of energy you had. It was almost painful, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You did your best to keep them from falling. You had places to be today, meeting up with the gang and  you didn’t want to worry them with your moping. 

With slow steps, you made your way back to your room to get dressed. Of course, most of your clothes were dirty and you didn’t care enough to wash them. So you threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and put on some shoes, hoping no one would ask about it. You caught your reflection and felt that dark, empty feeling in your chest grow. Pathetic. Your shoulders sagged forward and you blinked away more tears as you watched them well in your eyes. You didn’t have the right to feel like this. How much had Buffy been through and she still greeted every day with a smile. Everything was perfect and yet you were pathetic enough to still want to crawl back into bed. You just hoped that you would feel better by the time you saw everyone. Especially Spike. 

-

You sat with your legs pulled up to your chest. Xander and Willow were debating whether or not using wooden bullets would be a good vamp killer. Buffy was listening in amusement and Giles just looked exasperated, distracting himself by putting books back in their proper place on the shelves. No one said anything about your pajamas. You actually felt kind of invisible, like no one even really knew you were there. It made the empty feeling that much worse. 

“What do you think, Y/N?” 

“Xander, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“What? It’s not like we’re planning on dusting her boyfriend. Even if he is annoying and evil and-”

“Xander.” Willow said sternly. When you looked up, everyone’s eyes were on you. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Your voice held little to no emotion. You were almost too exhausted to feel anything. You just felt hollow. 

“If I shot Spike with a wooden bullet do you think he would, you know,” Xander made a motion with his hands that was meant to simulate a vampire dying. “Just theoretically, of course.” 

Everyone was expecting a witty remark. You and Xander were close and teased each other often, especially about your relationship with Spike. Instead, you just shrugged, your eyes fixating on a spot on the table. 

“Maybe.” 

The group collectively exchanged a look of concern, but didn’t press anything. After all, what reason could there be for you to be upset? They knew that if something had happened with Spike, you would tell them and there weren’t any recent deaths to worry about, so they continued on with their playful conversations about breaking curses and some movie that they had watched recently. It felt like you were intruding- like an unwanted bystander that everyone wished would just disappear. While no one had said anything like that, the thoughts filled your head nonetheless. 

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but you’d never told them. An episode like this hadn’t happened in months so you had hoped they had stopped. Some days you were as happy as you ever had been, but others you felt like a burden. Worthless and pathetic- pitying yourself for no reason at all. 

Spike didn’t even know, even after almost a year of dating. You never dreamed of telling him. Spike was always saying that you were the strong one. You were the one that helped him through every day of his endless living. He got his soul for you. What would he say if he saw you like this? If he knew the doubts and loathing going through your head. He would know that you’re weak and vulnerable and you didn’t want that to happen. 

So you didn’t tell them. You kept all of your thoughts inside of you as they ate away at your mind. On the outside, you just looked tired. Everyone knew that you stayed awake into the late hours because of Spike, so you hoped that’s what they would think. You were tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. It was like your body just wanted to give up. Maybe if you could just wake yourself up, everything would go back to normal. 

Buffy and Willow went out for coffee, so you went with them, hoping the caffeine would be enough to shake you out of this. Instead, it just made you more jumpy and anxious. The cup shook in your hand, but you kept drinking, still hoping that it would give you enough energy to fake it. This, like your out-of-it demeanor, did not go unnoticed. 

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Buffy asked, suddenly stopping her conversation with Willow about shoes. At first, you didn’t realize she was talking to you. You were so focused on the thoughts swarming around in your head, you hadn’t noticed they were both looking at you with concern. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’ve been spacing out all morning. What’s going on?” 

“I guess I’m just tired.” You shrugged, grimacing from the effort the small movement took. 

“Are you sure? Did Spike do something stupid, because you know I’ll-”

“Really, Buffy, I’m okay. I think I just need to go home and rest for a while.” You finished the rest of the coffee, feeling your heart beat faster as the anxiety built up in your chest. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” 

“Okay.” Buffy gave you a skeptical glance and Willow smiled sincerely.

“Feel better, Y/N.” 

“I’ll see you guys later.” You faked the best smile you could before turning away from them. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Willow wondered, watching the way you nervously messed with the hem of your shirt as you walked. Buffy narrowed her eyes and grabbed her bag. 

“I don’t know, but if she won’t talk to us about it, there’s one person she will.” 

“Oh do we have to go there? You know that place gives me the creeps.” Willow whined. Buffy just gave her a look and the two trekked off in search of your sun-hating boyfriend. 

-

You stood in the middle of your living room as the tears slowly started to pour down your cheeks. The coffee must have given you enough energy to cry and now you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you just stood, frozen by the overwhelming emptiness inside you. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless. Everything was swirling around your head, breaking you down further until you had to lean against the window sill to stay standing. 

You could faintly hear something outside your door, but you made no motion to open it. It sounded far away, or maybe you were just blocking it out. All you could hear was your heart pounding, along with the hundreds of doubts rattling in your head. It was until the door burst open that you flinched. 

“First, the slayer comes banging on my crypt, telling me that something’s wrong and then you leave me to break down your door- if I could die, you would have scared me to death. Why didn’t you open the door?” Spike huffed in frustration. You didn’t turn around. Frankly, you hardly noticed he was there. His irritation quickly faded, replaced by worry. “Y/N, love, what is it?” 

You still didn’t respond, keeping your back turned with your hands clinging to the window sill to keep from falling. Spike approached you slowly and you thought you heard his footsteps, but part of you thought you were just imagining him. Why would he come for you? It was the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. A rush of guilt washed over you. He came here despite the danger of being burned and you didn’t even have a reason. You’d put him at risk for your own pitiful problems. 

“Darling, why won’t you look at me?” He took another step towards you, but stopped. The sun’s rays created a shield around you, preventing him from pulling you into his arms. “If you could just lower the blinds, that would make this far less awkward.” 

“You d-didn’t need to come here. T-the sun.” You stammered. You wanted to reach for the curtains, but you still couldn’t move your arms without your legs giving out. 

“A little sunlight isn’t going to stop from me from getting to you,” he said sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rush to the window, the sound of his skin sizzling in the light made you let go of the ledge. Your legs buckled just as he got the curtains closed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had hurt him. All you had to do was reach up and shut out the sunlight and you couldn’t even do that. He burned himself just to reach you. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s alright.” He held you up for a moment before sinking to the floor to hold you in his lap. “I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.” 

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Spike. I’m not-” You hid your face from his view so he would see the tears. “I’m not worth all of this. There’s something wrong with me. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m like this and I don’t even know why. I don’t have a reason to feel like this. It’s like I’m… broken or something.” 

“You aren’t broken.” Spike said softly, tucking your head under his chin and gently rocking you back and forth. “You’re human.” 

He held you like that for a long while, not saying anything or even moving off of the floor. He didn’t make you look at him until he was sure you had relaxed enough. Putting a finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face to meet his. 

“I’m sorry about all this.” You sniffed, using your sleeve to wipe some of the dampness off your cheeks. 

“I don’t want to hear those worse from you for the rest of the day.” Spike gave you a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I would trek across deserts wrapped in a blanket if it meant being here with you. Every second is worth it.” Now, he lowered his lips down to yours for a slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with the soul of a man in love. “To me, love, you’re worth the world.” 

You stared into his eyes and knew that he meant every single word. While it didn’t chase away your doubts or the empty feeling in your chest, it helped you see that this feeling would end. And for now, that was enough. 

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling him closer. He kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, darling.” He hooked his arm under your knees and stood, holding you against his chest. “Now, why don’t I get you something to eat and we can spend the day in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Spike.” You laughed lightly. 

“There,” He beamed, “I knew I could get a smile.” 

He carried you into your room and placed you on your usual side of the bed, laying your fluffiest blanket over top of you. Then he vanished into your kitchen, the sound of your cupboards opening and shutting reminding you that he had no idea where anything was. It almost made you smile. He came back in with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a class of milk, and a thin leather bound journal. 

“What’s that?” You wondered as he climbed into the bed beside you. He handed you the cereal and milk and put his arm around you, pulling you close. 

“Eat your cereal.” He ordered teasingly, opening up to the first page. You tried to look over his shoulder, but he pulled the book away, laughing. “Do you want me to read or not?” 

“What is it?” Your curiosity made your tone amused and playful. You were starting to sound like you again. 

“Well, ever since I got this pesky soul back, I’ve had an unbearable amount of feelings running about in my head, so I figured I could at least put them to good use.” 

“Spike, are they…?” You perked up with excitement. He smiled sheepishly. 

“Poems.” He looked down at seemingly endless pages of his writings and back at you. “They’re mostly about you, of course. I thought, maybe, you’d like to hear them. See if they’d make you feel a little better.” You were almost too awestruck to nod. 

“I’d really like that.” 

With your cereal in hand, you curled up beside him, laying your head back against his shoulder. He read softly and slowly, his gentleness with his words almost lulling you to sleep. The poems were beautiful, forcing you to stay awake if only to hear one more word. Spike felt you relaxed against him as he read and paused his reading to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and lastly your lips. 

You felt the emptiness for a few more days, but each day, he was by your side, making sure you ate and gave yourself time to breathe. By the time you started to feel normal again, he’d read most of his poems and continued to write more and you were able to go for your evening walks without feeling exhausted. Your friends were more than supportive and helped you through it all while still giving you the space you needed. 

It wasn’t the last time an episode like this happened, but now you always knew that, no matter what, you’d never be alone.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

[elizabeethan]

The Swan and her Handler

Emma Swan was cursed, and the only way to break it is with True Love's Kiss. Try breaking a curse with True Love's Kiss when you're a damn swan.

Yes, it's true, I've written a CS AU based on Walnut the Crane, a crane who fell in love with her handler. I'm ashamed at how idiotic this is. It’s by far the dumbest thing I've ever written in all my life. It’s nothing more than crack written in about an hour, un-betaed and barely edited. Sorry, and you’re welcome.

Rated T for language

~2000 words

Read my other stuff

Read on Ao3

These damn idiots can’t get anything right. It was bad enough when Emma showed up on their doorstep with perfectly clear care instructions that were completely ignored, but now they keep trying to get her to reproduce as if she’s some kind of zoo animal. 

  Of course, given her current living situation, it does make at least a tiny bit of sense. 

  Ever since the curse, Emma has been stuck in a wildlife refuge and has been unable to get any of her stupid caretakers to figure out how to help her. She knows exactly what she needs, but unfortunately, no one here speaks swan and she can’t exactly hold a pen. Her care instructions were translated upon her transformation, so the one thing that could have helped her now looks like chicken-- er, swan scratch. 

  “She needs a mate,” one of the jack asses points out. “She’ll probably want to mate for life.”

  True, she thinks, although, not with any of the stinky fluff balls you have sent my way.  

  First it was Neal. He tried to mate with her, so she killed him. Last week, they put Walsh in her enclosure, and she pecked at him violently until they took pity on him and sent him to the medical unit. 

  Although today seems different, because her newest caretaker has shown up, and she realizes that he just might be exactly what she’s been looking for. 

Emma Swan, unfortunately very appropriately named, requires a mate who can break her curse, True Loves Kiss the only thing that can bring her back to her truest form as a human adult woman. And when the new dark haired, stunning eyed veterinarian comes strutting into her enclosure, she hurries towards him to get a closer look at his name tag. 

  He jumps away, making some comment about her being fiery , and she blushes, squawking at him as she tries to get closer. Killian , it reads, and if she had lips and not a bill, she would smile. 

  “We think she’s depressed,” the stupid one with the big eyes says. “She’s killed every mate we’ve tried to pair her with.” 

  Good, she thinks. I must have done more damage on Walsh than I initially thought.  

  “You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you, love?” the angel-man asks, making her squawk in agreement. She thinks she could make this quick, this man obviously understanding her horrible twist of fate, so she lunges for him once more, trying hard to kiss his hand and hoping beyond hope that it will transform her back into the woman she's supposed to be. No more feathers, she prays. 

  He exclaims again, jumping and complaining of his hand hurting as she pecks him, so she rolls her eyes and squawks angrily. “Alright, darling,” he says with his hands up, his smooth, accented voice making her heart flutter inside her chest. Her breast? She knows very little about swan anatomy, despite having been turned into one. “Perhaps she’s stressed about her environment. Have you tried giving her a dark, quiet place to nest?” 

  “Not yet,” the dumbass admits. 

  The handsome one, Killian, a name she could get used to rolling off of her tongue, steps away from her, so she hurriedly follows. “Perhaps here in this corner will do.” 

  I would love to spend time in a dark corner with you, she thinks, giving the man what she hopes is a salacious smirk. She watches appreciatively as he sits down, crossing his legs as he starts to fiddle with some sticks as if she would be interested in them. Rather than helping him to make a nest out of the twigs and leaves, she plops herself right in his lap, nestling herself into his crossed legs and gazing up at his beautiful features, earning a smile from him. 

  “There we are, love,” he says happily, clearly surprised that she chose to plant herself upon him, although he shouldn't be. Just look at him, for god’s sake. “Comfortable?” 

  She squawks loudly, making him cringe, then fluffs her feathers in an attempt to gussy herself up for him. If she’s going to earn True Love’s Kiss from this perfect specimen, she’s going to have to work for it. The man chuckles as he looks down at her-- is he gazing? -- and lifts his hand slowly, placing a finger gently upon the top of her head and petting back down her neck, sending a chill down her spine, at least she thinks it’s her spine. She pushes her head towards him again, demanding more attention in an effort to get him to fall for her. It shouldn’t take long; she’s very enchanting. 

  “She’s never been this calm,” the dumb one says, making her snap her head towards him with a glare, shouting at him in disapproval. Killian shushes her soothingly, his finger softly stroking along her stupid feathers once more and making her shut her eyes. 

  “She just needed a bit of attention, it seems.” 

  “We’d best be careful,” someone else says, the bookworm who always thinks she knows everything about swan science. Of course, she probably knows more than Swan Emma. “We wouldn’t want her to imprint on you ,” she seems to joke. 

  “That’s quite alright, isn’t it love?” he asks her, essentially giving her permission to fall in love with this handsome bastard. 

  He comes by a few times a week for the next several months, each time sitting with her in her tiny, dirty nest and not seeming to care that his pants get soiled. She’s always careful to do her business elsewhere, making sure that her prince can sit in comfort when he arrives. She gets angry with him when he brings someone new, a sickly looking male named Graham who she assures is not welcome, so Killian gives up trying to get her to mate with someone. For some reason, they're concerned about her procreating, but she can assure everyone that she will not be giving birth to a damn swan baby while she’s under this curse. 

  One day, when Killian visits near the end of his shift, he’s finally alone, leaving behind the dumb one and the book worm and giving her all of the attention she desires as his strong hand softly pets along her soft feathers. She can’t wait to get rid of these stupid feathers. 

  “You’re quite funny,” he remarks as the sun starts to set. “Unlike any swan I’ve ever met.”

  She squawks at him-- I’m not a damn swan-- and he smiles. “Quire the personality. It always seems like you’re trying to communicate with me.” 

  Yes, you stupid handsome man, that’s exactly right! She tries to nod, lifting and dropping her head in quick succession and making the beauty laugh. She nudges her head against his hand in demand of more pets. 

  “What is it you want me to know, darling?” he asks gently, his voice soft and soothing and deep. 

  She groans, a sound that comes out like a pained cry, and his face shifts. “Are you alright, love?” 

  In pure frustration, Emma drops her head against the man’s chest, likely assaulting him with how badly she smells like bird shit, and he chuckles again, letting his hand run along her feathers some more. “There, there. I know life as a swan must be difficult. All you seem to want is for someone to listen.” 

  She looks up, hoping that her expression conveys her complete and utter irritation at the fact that he’s literally hitting the nail on the head and yet he has no idea. 

  “Such a personality,” he says again. “I’ve got to head home now, love. I’m looking forward to having Chinese for dinner. Perhaps I'll bring you an eggroll tomorrow, or is that insensitive?” 

  She squawks, half because she’s laughing, and half because she would quite literally kill another potential mate for an eggroll. Wanting to beg him not to go, she gives him her best sad face through her inability to emote, and nestles her head against his palm one more time. 

  “I’ll sneak you one, love,” he laughs, and as he does, he finally, finally , leans down towards her, and plants his stupid, dumb, lucious lips upon the top of her stinky bird head. 

  Cramps start to run through her whole stupid bird body, the same ones she felt when she was cursed on Halloween decades ago. He stands, not seeming to notice her pain and discomfort until he’s a few steps away, and he turns back around. “Swan, are you alright?” he asks, as if she could answer, and she shouts back at him wordlessly. 

  She praises whatever gods might be listening as she feels things start to change, her feathers shedding as her skin is exposed to the chilly fall air. The webbing between her toes retracts, her legs turning flesh colored rather than that horrifying orange. Her bill turns back into her nose and mouth, preparing her to smooch her savior rather than peck at him. Finally, she’s back!

  “Bloody fucking hell,” Killian breathes as he stares on, Emma transforming back into her old self, laying in a heap on the ground as she brushes off the dirt and twigs and leaves. 

  “You did it,” she praises before clearing her throat, raw from misuse after all these years. She grins at him as she’s been wanting to since they met, and is met with a horrified, shocked look on his face. His jaw is gaping, his eyes wide as they catch the light of the setting sun. “I knew you would.” 

  “What the fuck?” 

  “You broke the curse,” she says happily, standing up and exposing her nude form to him, cursing the lack of feathers although she vowed she never would. Immediately, he removes his jacket, despite his shock still clearly running through him, and hands it to her. 

  “I did what now?”

  “I was cursed. Why do you think I was such a miserable swan?” 

  He’s looking around, his mouth snapping shut and dropping open in succession as he tries to process the fact that there was a swan in the enclosure just a second ago, and now there’s a frankly beautiful, naked woman standing before him. “You were cursed,” he says doubtfully. 

  “Yes, I was. An evil witch cursed me on Halloween decades ago and I've been stuck in that infernal bird form ever since. All I needed was True Love’s Kiss to break it, but imaging trying to fall in love with someone as a damn bird.” 

  “So you… you fell in love… with me…?” 

  “Obviously,” she smiles, taking a step towards him on shaky legs, tripping and falling into his waiting arms as he catches her, careful not to grope her, although she isn’t sure she would mind. “And you broke the curse, so… Do I have to tell you what that means?”

  “I-- I’m having a lot of trouble processing the fact that I've evidently been in love with a swan for months.” 

  “Well, my name is Emma Swan, so you can be in love with a Swan for the rest of your life, if you’d like.” 

  “Emma,” he murmurs, staring into her eyes and smiling when he seems to recognize her. She’s never been able to see herself in the mirror, because the book worm was worried she would attack it, but based on the way he’s staring, she would guess that the evil witch let her keep her eyes. “Do you know it just happens to be Halloween tonight?”

  “Kismet,” she says softly, gazing up at him. He lifts his hand like he did while she was planted in his lap, and she’s finally able to feel his calloused finger along the skin of her cheek, then of her neck, just as he had done before. 

  “Aye,” he agrees. “The spirit of the holiday does make this whole thing a bit easier to accept.” 

  “Yeah,” she says dismissively. “Now take me home. I was promised an eggroll and I haven't eaten anything but grass and stale bread in almost thirty years.”

~~~~

Tagging (with apologies):

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree

[talatomaz]

lockdown | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i can’t believe that a year ago today, the last ever episode of criminal minds aired. i miss jj so much 🤧

this is sort of in line with my own experiences (to a certain extent). and there’s not as much jj x d!r as i’d intended but I hope you still like it.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by @ouat2017 : “could you do a jj x daughter where the daughter’s school is on lockdown and jj is worried or something like that?”

warnings: gun violence. blood

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 18 year old adopted daughter and suddenly finds herself on lockdown after someone brings a gun into her school

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Look, you’re the one that needs to be tutored so can you please focus?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.

You were currently in the tutoring centre trying to help a self-absorbed jock pass English so he could remain on the school’s football team.

Looking around you, you saw a handful of students giving both you and Cameron - the man-child you were tutoring - disparaging looks.

“You’re not supposed to be yelling at me. You’re meant to be telling me the answers.”

The aforementioned narcissist leaned against his chair, smirking at you in a way that made you fight to hide a shudder.

You could have easily wiped the grin off his face by mentioning who your mother was and who she worked for but instead, you decided to just continue ignoring his advances and carry on teaching him.

“That’s not how this works, Cameron. Now either you listen to me or you fail and get kicked off the team. And quite frankly, I’d rather the latter happen.”

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion. Sighing, you answered, “latter means the second thing of two things mentioned in a sentence. Now, for the love of God, just finish writing your paragraph on Heller's satire of capitalism in Catch-22.”

You let out a breath of relief when he finally relented and started to scribble on his sheet of paper. You glanced over at one of your friends, who was also tutoring for extra credit, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at Cameron’s actions.

Leaning against the large desk that stood at the front of the room, you relished in the long-awaited silence aside from hushed whispers that came from other students asking for help.

Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen to see that it was only midday and soon the lunch bell would be ringing.

You smiled softly at your lock screen.

It was a photo of you and JJ, your adoptive mother.

It was taken a few weeks prior at your 18th birthday party. You’d been living with JJ for almost 5 years now; her having fostered you before later adopting you when you were 14.

You still didn’t know what she saw in you on that day you’d first met her - you’d lost your family in a home invasion, barely surviving yourself - but whatever it was, you were grateful because you’d gotten a second chance at life.

Several minutes passed and you’d only broken from your train of thought when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your friend, the one who’d rolled her eyes earlier at Cameron, standing beside you.

“I see you finally got him to do his work.” She whispered, loud enough for your ears only.

“Barely. He still has an essay to write and hasn’t even finished a paragraph yet.”

“I would have smacked his sorry ass by now.”

You laughed before clamping your hand over your mouth, her comment having caught you off guard.

“Ally!” You whisper-shouted, playfully hitting her arm.

She looked at you with a raised eyebrow causing you to smirk, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it but-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a large bang rang out, shattering the silence the room had once held.

With wide eyes, your head whipped to the door where the gunshot had presumably come from and you listened as the hallways were filled with panicked screams.

Running to the door, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students behind you, you turned the lock on the door, pulled down the blinds, switched off the lights and jammed a chair under the handle.

Looking up, you saw everyone had the same look of panic in their eyes; a few were crying, including Ally, and others were pale with shock, Cameron was one of them.

“Guys, we’re gonna be okay but we have to be quiet.” You whispered harshly, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door, listening for any indication of the shooter coming your way.

Everyone stared at you, as if you were the leader of a camp and they were small children awaiting for further instruction.

You supposed it wasn’t far off.

By taking charge, you were the one who’d been unwillingly given the role of protector.

“First things first,” you walked over to the group of 10 students, “I need you all to make sure your phones are on silent. We can’t risk being caught.”

You watched as everyone followed your instructions.

“I know you all want to call your parents but that’s going to attract attention to us so for right now, we need to be quiet.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest and as you spoke, one thought repeated in your head. JJ.

Taking out your phone, you scrolled to find your mother’s name in your contacts. You watched as your thumb hovered over her name.

Just breathe, y/n. Breathe.

Tapping your mother’s name, you brought the phone to your ear.

“I thought you said we couldn’t call anyone.”

Your eyes locked onto Cameron’s, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror and a hint of anger.

“My Mum works for the FBI.” You whispered as the phone rang out.

Any other time and you probably would have laughed at the way his face grew paler, if that was even possible. But, in a situation this tense, it was going to be difficult to find any levity.

Your Mum picked up on the second ring and you let out a shaky breath when you heard her voice.

“Hi baby. A bit early for your lunch, isn’t it?”

You closed your eyes at her soft tone, as if you were trying to engrave the way she spoke into your mind lest you would never hear it again.

From your lack of response, the blonde sensed there was something up, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

A single tear dropped down your cheek as you struggled to maintain a steady tone. Catching a glimpse of Ally staring at you, you steeled yourself and spoke.

“Mum, you need to come quick. Someone’s brought a gun into school.”

“Oh my-AARON.”

You winced when you heard her shout for her boss, listening as you could hear her run up stairs. You held your breath as she filled Hotch in on what was happening before telling Garcia to hack into your school’s security system.

“Are you okay? Stupid question. But are you hurt?”

“Mum,” you interrupted her rambling, “I’m fine. I’m in the tutoring centre with 10 other people. I don’t know how many people are injured. It just all happened so fast.”

“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”

Though you could hear the clear panic in her voice, her words did bring some form of reassurance to you.

“Penelope’s hacking into the system so hopefully she can have eyes soon.”

As she spoke, you could hear the clacking of keys in the background of the call; presumably Garcia doing exactly what JJ said.

“Mum?” You questioned when you heard Garcia swear.

Instead of JJ answering, the usually peppy tech analyst replied, her voice shaky and wet, as if she was crying.

“Y/N, thank God you’re okay.”

“What’s wrong, Garcia?”

“Someone’s disabled the cameras remotely. I can only get them back online if someone reprograms them from the inside.”

Grasping what she was explaining, you nodded, “I’ll fix them.”

“What? No!”

Your mother had taken the phone off of Garcia.

“You are not leaving that room, y/n. We’ll find another way in.”

“Mum, someone needs to fix the system from inside the school. I need to do it.”

Ignoring your mother’s worried shouts, you continued to speak, “Mum, I have to. I love you.”

You disconnected the phone and switched it off, preventing her from being able to call you back.

“Y/N, you are not leaving this room.”

You’d only just realised that everyone had been watching you intently during that entire interaction.

“Yes, I am.”

Moving away from the huddle, you rose to your feet and replied to your friend.

Cameron rose to his feet and towered over you as he challenged you, “No, you are not. You’re going to put us in danger.”

“Do you know how to hack into our school’s security system and then reconnect the transformer and enter the Mastercode?”

His face contorted to a look of confusion making you reply,

“Exactly.”

Turning to leave, you felt a large hand enclose around your arm.

“I said, you’re not leaving.”

Your eyes flickered from Cameron’s hand up to his face that dared you to take another step.

“Remove your hand from my arm before I remove your hand from your body. You may letter in football but I’ve been trained by some of the best FBI agents there are and unless you want to end up in a sleeper hold, I suggest you shut up and do what I say for once.”

His harsh grip almost immediately lessened as his hand returned to his side.

“Good. Now, have any of you been shot? No? I didn’t think so. Well, I have and whoever did get shot is probably bleeding out in the hallway. I can’t not do anything.”

No one dared to respond and instead, shook their head ‘no’ at your asking if anyone else would try to stop you.

Content that you weren’t going to deal with any more unnecessary distractions, you made your way to the door and gently removed the chair that was beneath the handle.

“Ally, you’re in charge. Lock the door when I leave. By my count, the FBI will be here soon. And Cameron, you do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you myself.”

Unlocking the door, you stepped out into the empty hallway and hastily made your way to where the main security hub was located.

Just a couple of hours ago, all you had wished for was silence but now that your wish had been granted, all you wanted was to hear the playful shouts and conversations between your friends and fellow students.

The silence that currently fell on your school was unnerving and unbearable. And with each step you took, you flinched at the sound your shoes made against the marble floor. Each noise practically acting as a beacon for the shooter to come find you.

You let out a sigh of relief when you found the Hub and you quickly worked to reconnect the security system. Typing on the laptop that rested atop one of the servers, you couldn’t help the smile that formed when all the cameras re-engaged.

Tapping on one of the keys, you navigated through the various cameras, looking for any indication of the shooter or of any injured people. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of someone.

Squinting at the screen, you saw, what appeared to be a freshman - since you didn’t recognise him as being a part of your year - laying on the ground, a hand clutching his stomach as blood coated his clothing.

Immediately knowing where he was, you cautiously made your way to the east hallway before running when you noticed him laying on the ground, his blood coating the once-white marble floor.

Falling to your knees, you pressed your hands against his wound, trying to stop the steady flow. He groaned out in pain, tears staining his face.

“H-Help me.” He choked out.

“What’s your name?”

“Jackson. But everyone c-calls me J-Jack.”

“Jack, you’re going to be okay. I just need you stay with me, okay? I’m-”

“Y/N.”

You failed to hide the surprise from your face making the younger teen smile despite his predicament.

“You’re t-tutoring Cameron. Everyone knows who you are. Y-You’re the one who doesn’t take any of his shit. I think h-he likes you.”

“Well, tough shit for him. I may be bi but he’s definitely not my type.”

Jack’s laugh quickly turned into another groan of pain.

Unzipping your jacket with one hand, you used the other to keep pressure on his wound. After removing the jacket, you harshly pressed it against his torso and watched as it barely absorbed the blood.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” You said, tears filling in your eyes as memories rushed back of when you tried to save your brother after he’d been shot.

“You’re going to be okay. I just need you to-”

You stilled when you heard footsteps come up behind you.

“Well, what do we have here?”

You didn’t recognise the voice and couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to face the person who’d caused all this pain.

You opened your mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for your inevitable death when a shot rang out and a body slumped to the ground beside you.

Jumping at the action, you turned around and almost collapsed in relief at what you saw. Your Mum and her team stood behind you with several SWAT members flanking them.

The tears that had once filled your eyes now spilled shamelessly down your cheeks.

Without saying a word, JJ holstered her gun and ran to your side, hugging you as best she could since your hands were still pressed against Jack’s wound.

Paramedics soon followed and after that it was all a blur. It was as if you were floating outside of your body. Logically, you knew it was the effects of an adrenaline crash but you felt so disconnected from your body.

You barely took note as your mother gently lifted you to your feet, allowing you to be briefly looked over by the paramedics. Nor as your mother escorted you to one of the school bathrooms where she rinsed the blood off your hands.

You didn’t even say a word until you’d arrived back at the BAU where a worried Penelope wrapped you in a tight hug which you returned.

“I’m gonna take her up to my old office, Hotch.”

The Unit Chief simply nodded as he and the rest of the team watched as JJ led you to the abandoned office that was still filled with random case files.

Closing the door, she sat you down on her sofa and stared at you, not touching you in fear that even a simple caress would cause you to shatter.

You exhaled a long breath before finally speaking, “I’m sorry.��

Her brows narrowed, “Sorry? Sweetheart, why?”

You looked at your hands that had been coated in blood less than an hour before and then up at your mother; her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern, love and confusion.

“You told me not to leave and I did. I’m sorry.”

And with that, you started to cry heart-wrenching sobs that made your shoulders shake.

JJ gathered you in her arms, gently rocking you as her long blonde hair draped over you.

“It’s okay, y/n. I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

Her arms wrapped tightly around you as she laid soft kisses on your head, her hand stroking your back.

That only served to make you burrow into her even more, seeking comfort in her motherly embrace.

You muttered your apologies as she continued to reassure you that you were okay.

JJ was afraid that if she stopped, you wouldn’t be here, safe in her arms.

Still rocking you in her arms, she whispered in your ear,

“I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”

[skywardscroll]

the language of love

✧ summary: mondstadt boys (diluc, kaeya, albedo, & venti) and their love languages.

✧ warnings: mention of death & depression in Venti’s. gender neutral reader!

✧ a/n: my first headcanon post! it’s p cute, me thinks :D <3 hope you all like it!!

Love Language: gift giving

✧ Diluc was a mysterious man. Though you two were an item for a long while now, you were still finding out new things about him every day.

✧ In the last week, you found out that when he piles up his parchment, he preferred it the be placed longways, rather than vertical, on the edge of his desk, and that he disliked white grape juice, but loved red grape juice.

✧ Today, which was valentine’s day, you learned that Diluc, though clueless on what to get most of the time, loved buying gifts.

✧ It was a sacred form of love to him, buying someone a gift. He only ever did it to people he really loved.

He stared at you silently in subdued anticipation. He spent a month searching for the perfect gift, getting council from various shopkeepers and friends, always thinking Maybe there’s something better. Diluc knew, deep down, that you would be happy with anything. You were always so gracious, never expecting anything and always being thankful for the small gifts Diluc would sometimes give you. He trusted that you understood that he was not the best at voicing his feelings, but that he felt he could properly show his love and feel loved in return when giving you gifts.

Tearing into the red wrapping paper (Lisa and Klee wrapped it for him!), you let out a small gasp at seeing the gift he bought for you.

The Shared Experience: A Poetry Collection was a collection you had your eyes on for a while. Diluc, not being one for flowery language like that, even found himself taken with the compilation with poetry from all over Teyvat. Somehow, these poets from Fontaine, Natlan, and the likes, had managed to put into words what he wished he could say to you.

It was the perfect Valentine’s present, which was only to be expected from Diluc, who used gifts to show his love.

Love language: words of affirmation

✧ Unlike his brother, Kaeya probably spent 80% of his time telling you how much he loved you, how pretty you were, and how lucky you were to have such a handsome boyfriend.

✧ (The last one always earned him a gentle fist to the arm and a groan of half-hearted disagreement from you. Totally worth it everytime. You’re so cute.)

✧ He holds you in such high regard, thinking you’re the better half of him.

✧ He fell in love with you because you brought out the best in him.

✧ You were always there to make him feel better when the stress of being a Knight got to him. Tonight was, sadly, one of those instances.

“Y/N?” His sweetened voice, which always seemed to lift your spirits, had an exhausted tone to it. And, considering how much he liked to talk, especially to you, you were able to pick up on this immediately.

“Kaeya? Are you okay?”

He didn’t say anything, instead just sitting beside you on your couch and laying his head in your lap, completely blocking your view of the book you were previously reading. Of course, you didn’t mind, though. You’d rather spend time with Kaeya anyway.

Truthfully, you had a feeling that something like this was coming. He’d been particularly busy during the week with hardly enough time to spend leisurely.

“You work so hard…” You sighed, running your fingers through his dark hair. You could feel his shoulders relax against your legs immediately as he laid in silence. “I’m so proud of all you do for Mondstadt. You are a true hero. I’m so lucky to call you mine.”

He didn’t say anything – no smart remarks, no smirking or joking. He just laid there with his eyes staring up at you.

He loved you. So much.

Love language: physical touch

✧ Frankly, it surprised you how often Albedo just wanted to be as close to you as possible.

✧ He’s reserved, you know, and he likes his space. PDA is certainly not his thing.

✧ But… At home is different.

✧ At home, he always requests to have your hand in his and he always wants to lay with you (though, this does conflict with his desire to work constantly.)

✧ But the feeling of your skin on his was just so fascinating.

It was the temperature difference; he was sure of it.

The warmth of your body compared to his, which was always on the cold side, made his heart flutter with… Something. Love, he hypothesized it was.

Actually, maybe it was just the feeling of your skin – Your skin, which was just so soft; so smooth and comforting against his calloused fingertips (the downside of being an artist.)

Speaking of which, you were painting again. He encouraged you to tap into your artistic side, even lending you his painting equipment. Though, he failed to foresee the frustration that came with it.

“Bedo… I can’t do this.” You whined, putting down the paintbrush before rubbing your tired eyes.

“You can. Here.” He came up from behind you, sliding his hands down your forearm until his hand encapsulated yours. He slowly lifted your hand, dragging the paintbrush in your grasp against the canvas. “Try doing small circles. It makes the texture look right.”

He didn’t want to let go, but he did. Seeing the blush against your supple cheeks made him smile.

Whatever the reason, there was one thing he wouldn’t question: His love for you.

Love language: acts of service

✧ It’s an unwritten rule of the Archons that you just don’t fall in love with the people you’ve sworn to protect.

✧ Venti knew it was foolish of him. You were a mortal, someone who would die  before he could even blink.

✧ But he couldn’t help but be enamored by you because, when his role as Archon became overwhelming, somehow you knew just what to do to help.

Stanley was in another fit of depression, Klee was moments away from accidentally burning down a building, and Anthony was in the fountain… again.

This week was just… A lot.

Venti wanted nothing more than to just sit underneath the Windrise tree with a bottle or two of wine and his lyre. He knew he had all eternity to do so, but after the week he’d had, he really needed to take a break.

You didn’t know of Venti’s… true nature yet. He knew it was wrong to keep it from you, but how was he to say ‘hey, you know Barbatos? Yeah, that’s me’ without sounding crazy?

The thing was: He didn’t need to tell you. Somehow, you just knew that he was going through a lot even without him saying so. And, still without your full understanding, you helped him in so many ways around Mondstadt on your good nature alone.

Today was exceptionally quiet, though. When you returned home and asked him how his day was, he could truthfully say that it was rather uneventful.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“Oh! Today, I happened to run into Klee before she burned down the pier. Apparently, it’s the second time she’s almost destroyed Mondstadt? I love her, but she’s such trouble sometimes.”

Venti hid his shock easily, as it was soon replaced with admiration and thankfulness for you.

“It’s a good thing you were there, then.” He spoke.