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gojorgeous · 10 months ago

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“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot.

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way.

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably.

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.”

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross.

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before.

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones…

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing.

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers?

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man…

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused.

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour.

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen.

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?”

Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was…

“Yes… Thank you.”

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…”

“Take care.”

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources?

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think.

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor.

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?”

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?”

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside.

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips.

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully.

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost.

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing.

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.”

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree.

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground.

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker.

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it.

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply.

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?”

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands.

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right?

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed?

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power…

“N-no–”

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?”

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper.

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls.

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard.

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper.

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.”

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–”

“‘M following your scent, baby.”

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love.

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin.

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning.

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.”

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key.

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak.

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper.

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right.

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough.

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts.

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation.

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.”

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again.

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs.

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-”

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back.

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.”

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants.

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty.

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm.

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need.

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.”

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.”

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

“You on birth control, baby?”

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…”

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.”

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively.

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back.

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name.

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts.

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me.

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers.

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now…

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together.

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.”

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair.

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones.

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut.

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed.

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he.

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does.

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry.

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision.

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to.

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here.

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time.

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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il-miele-che-scrive · 10 months ago

Text

Go for his brother part 2

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭

↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend

↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup

username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀

username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur

↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge

username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie

username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction

username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao

↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol

username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama

yourusername The Art & The Artist

view all comments

charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all

↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭

username1 MY OH MY

username2 What did she say 😐

username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her

username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)

francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶

↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶

username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf

username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?

username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying

yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️

↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅

username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme

↳username5 What makes you think that?

username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake

username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day

exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷

↳yourusername 😐

↳francisca.cgomes 😐

↳yoursister 😐

↳charles_leclerc 😐

↳pierregasly 😐

↳georgerussell63 😐

↳carmenmmundt 😐

↳alex_albon 😐

↳lilymhe 😐

username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭

↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣

username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST

username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?

arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️

view all comments

exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️

username1 💀

username2 Alright they both have the audacity

username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao

username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol

↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED

username5 They deserve each other tbh

username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...

↳username7 wdym

username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭

username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao

exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us

↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you

↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮

yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️

view all comments

username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?

yoursister You guys look so good together

↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily

↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊

↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭

lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing

↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together

username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE

↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation

username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?

username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure

username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur

username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment

arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?

↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????

↳username3 wtf are u doing here

↳yourusername Maybe...

username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏

username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr

alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date

↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where

arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this

↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom

arthur_leclerc You know what I mean

arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point

yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually

arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever

charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after

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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS

pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected

↳username2 bro speaking facts

username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭

username4 Well at least the family already knew her

↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry

username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?

alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year

↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it

francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂

↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶

arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are

↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful

↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party

username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶

username2 at least the "maman" is the same right

username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur

username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭

↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like

carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂

↳username9 Not funny

username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace

↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢

carlossainz55 Valid point

arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend

charles_leclerc On which you cheated

arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?

↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao

↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again

arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me

yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me

charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 smau #f1 social media au #Charles leclerc smau #arthur leclerc x reader #Arthur leclerc smau #Charles leclerc social media au #Arthur leclerc social media au

3K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds smut #So much plot #maturereiding

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jymwahuwu · 9 months ago

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@blbrrymilk here ^^

imagine that Sunday controls your thoughts during your private moments alone in bed 🫢 you were trying to find some relief- thinking of your crush/others beside him or just some kinky fantasies he doesn’t approve of- so he gives you a different image in your mind. forcibly changed your thoughts to fit his preferences instead. maybe you lose your arousal because of his interference or maybe you think of him instead now :33

You really- why didn’t I think of this!! Thank you! ! I'm struggling with how to write about mind control. *mwah*<3 <3 This mind control is annoying LMAO

CW: yandere, mind control, forced orgasms, masturbation, no privacy…?

He is really insufferable omg😹

Forcibly pouring his image into your mind like this? Uh-huh, yes. You've joined "The Family" even though you may not have actually… agreed? Your consciousness is connected to that of the people of Aeon Xipe. The leader of the family often looks at the fragments of thoughts in your mind, and replaces and modifies the information if he sees something that does not suit his liking.

Of course, Sunday cannot directly modify your thoughts. He respects your sense of independence (claim). He just guides you to the right path.

One day you're lying on a soft bed, completely relaxed, probably in your pajamas. You looked at the ceiling and breathed calmly. You might be ready to meditate, masturbate or something like that. And this is your freedom, okay? You don't know why…Sunday, the leader of the family has a kind of appreciation and favor for you. You are considered an important member of the family. You are tired of listening to Xipe and family hymns every day. This is your private time.

Maybe you think about your crush?

Once you think about that person, you can't help but feel your heart speed up and feel shy. You are thinking about the details of your time with them. But - no matter who your crush is, you suddenly find that their image has been replaced to Sunday in your mind. Close-up of him. His smile, his bow, his gestures, his words to you. The words of trust he always expressed to you. You were startled and quickly waved your hands to wave away those pink bubbles and love words. You don't have a crush on him, okay?

After you try to get rid of the image of Sunday, thousands of messages and videos flood into your head. About how you lack taste in the choice of lovers and neglect Xipe and Sunday who truly love and care for you and embrace you in their arms.

Then comes the real chill, the guilt. How their love was wasted and betrayed.

Gazed tenderly by those amber eyes. Surrounded by him. That feather gently stirs your heart.

As for thinking about other people? The consequences are relatively mild. Just bring back some memories of Sunday in your mind.

Sunday also doesn’t agree with some of your kinky fantasies. You are polluted by vulgar worldliness. How can you read those erotic novels and pornographic books? After you thought you were safe and caressed yourself with the toy, you heard him whispering in your ear and guiding you to climax. Of course you were- annoyed- and confused, but in the end you cum so hard, one after another orgasm ripped out of you. Pain and excitement. A feeling of bliss. Your eyes lose focus. Then came the licking of your ears and the restrained kisses.

Sunday is not in this space, but it feels so real.

Minutes after the mind control ended:

You grab your mobile device and send a message to "Mr. Sunday":

(╯‵□′)╯︵┴─┴ Stop putting those images in my mind you bastard!!!!!!!!!

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

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charliedawn · 9 months ago

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Hey I was wondering how do you think the slashers would react if they're s/o was wearing a piece of their clothing or mask (for the masked ones)? Honestly I think if Michael found his s/o wearing (or even touching...) His mask that's a killable offense right there lmao.

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was asleep when you took his mask. When he woke up and didn't find it—he started panicking.

He made a mess out of his bedroom in a desperate attempt to find it and locked his door so that nobody could come in.

You frowned as you found the door locked and knocked on the door.

"Jason ? Are you alright ?"

He wasn't.

He hesitated to open the door, but you then slid his mask back to him through the door.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to surprise you."

He understood what had happened and opened the door a little to look at you. You seemed genuinely sorry and he finally opened the door for you to come in.

Jason wears the mask for a reason. He is insecure to the extreme. It's the only way for him to hide himself and if it had been anyone else than you ?

...That person would have been dead and buried.

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms actually woke up when you were looking at yourself in the mirror with his mask on.

He seemed stunned for a moment before he silently got out of bed to stand next to you.

Once you saw him in the mirror, you turned around. You were ready to apologize, but then saw the way he was looking at you.

He wasn't angry. Far from it. He just stared at you and smiled before slowly removing the mask from your face.

He then put it back on his and took a deep breath—as if smelling it. He then hummed appreciatively and wrapped his arms around you.

"...Brahms' mask smells good now." He whispered and held you closer.

…

Well—that backfired.

Vincent Sinclair:

Panic. Immediate and irreversible panic.

Unlike Brahms or Jason, Vince is deeply ashamed of his face. It isn't about being insecure or having a couple of scars. He is TERRIFIED of his own reflection.

Vincent used to be attached to Bo. Being twins at birth, it made him feel as if there was someone out there who understood him.

But, the mask is a mark of shame—the constant reminder that that connection is severed. And he feels ugly because of it. Because he was disfigured from the operation—while Bo wasn't.

They are different now, when there were supposed to be one and the same.

Plus, he’s only got one mask. It took time to make as he had to get Bo to agree to mould a mask with his face.

So, he would get mad. He would also be pretty physical about getting it back.

He COULD hurt you.

Do not steal his mask, unless you are absolutely sure and asked permission beforehand.

Michael Myers:

...You have a death wish. There is no other possible explanation.

Michael values his mask more than anything in this world.

He hides his face for a reason. It became a part of him over time and he HATES when people see his true face.

So, do not steal his mask.

But, I don’t think you’d be able to anyway.

Michael almost never takes it off and if anyone tried to take his mask away ? Wrists would get crushed. Just saying.

Freddy Krueger:

"If you take the hat, sweetheart…Be ready to face the consequences."

Freddy LOVES his hats (Yes. Plural. He’s got a full drawer of them in his room)

He counts them all before going to bed and when he saw that one of them was missing, he was ready to track the person down and draw blood.

But, when he understood you were the little thief, he smirked and simply closed the door behind him. He then sat down and grinned mischievously at you.

"Looks good on ya. But since you stole it…How about you offer me a show as compensation, hmm ?" *pats his lap and smirks*

Sleazy lil’ goblin to the end.

Pennywise:

If by some MIRACLE, you managed to get Pennywise’s gloves…He’d be furious. Pennywise hates touching people and his gloves are like a second skin to him.

Pennywise *appears behind you and screeches*: "GIVE THEM BACK THIS INSTANT, YOU STUPID HUMAN !"

Pennywise is usually pretty chill. So, for him to get really mad ? Yeah…No stealing the clown’s gloves. Never.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo's cap is his own way of hiding his insecurity. He has a scar at the back of his ear from the operation to separate him from Vince.

He doesn’t like people looking at it, so he wears that cap all the time.

One day, you decided to remove it while he was sleeping, and he grabbed your wrist before you could run away with it.

He then smirked and tutted playfully.

"Careful, darls. You take my cap, I take your life."

You knew he was only kidding, but there was also a little bit of a warning in his eyes.

He likes his cap. It’s the only thing he got left from his dad and his tolerance is zero. So, do not try to steal his cap, or ask first. He would allow you to wear it eventually, but still…Bo is not someone to be messed with.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #pennywise x reader #bo sinclair x reader

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heartpascal · 1 year ago

Text

or is it loneliness?

▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.

▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear

▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!

MASTERLIST , part one

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.

While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.

Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.

At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.

Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.

It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.

The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.

Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.

But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.

No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.

“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.

She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.

You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.

“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.

“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”

You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.

“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.

“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.

“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”

She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.

The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.

“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.

Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.

“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.

“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.

“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”

“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”

Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?

You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.

“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.

“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.

The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.

“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.

“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.

“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”

Who are you to deny her that?

Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.

Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?

You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.

But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.

You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.

Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.

You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.

If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.

“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”

You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”

That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.

She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.

“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.

Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.

“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.

There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.

The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.

Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.

You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.

Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.

She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.

You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.

“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”

“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.

“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”

Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.

You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.

“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.

“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”

Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.

You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”

You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.

It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.

She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.

The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.

Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.

Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.

It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.

Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.

The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.

Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.

It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.

That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.

Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.

He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.

“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”

“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.

You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.

A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.

“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”

Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?

Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”

With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.

Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.

“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”

“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.

Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”

He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.

Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.

“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”

“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”

“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.

“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”

You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.

Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.

“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?

Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.

You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.

While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?

Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.

The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.

Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.

Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.

Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.

Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.

But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.

The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.

Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.

When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.

Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.

Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.

That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.

Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.

You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.

“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.

You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.

All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.

Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.

Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.

Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.

Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”

He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.

The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.

You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.

The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.

You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.

“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.

Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?

“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.

Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.

Who do these people think they are?

You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.

The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.

“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.

“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.

“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”

“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”

Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?

Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”

“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.

You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.

You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.

After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.

“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.

“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.

“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”

You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.

You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.

“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”

“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.

“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”

You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.

“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?

“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”

For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?

“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.

Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”

“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.

There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”

“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.

You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.

All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.

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whirlpool-blogs · 24 days ago

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whirlpool's personal fic recs, part 2

well, it's been a minute since the first time I did this, so here's some more great fics I've read since then.

(this is a totally fresh list! if by chance you see a repeat from part 1, it's only because there's been an update to it since then)

-> Please let me know if any of my links are messed up, or if I got a tumblr handle wrong!

rarepairs/3somes/from perspective of other characters:

Biggest Dick on Base by @impalachick (Crosby/Bucky) you guys. this one is soooo hot. oh the dialogue is sooooo good. as the author says, "It's canon that Croz and Egan are the two horniest guys in the 100th" and this fic NAILS it!

dancing cheek to cheek (to cheek) by @meyerlansky (Curt/Bucky/Buck) Curt POV and it's soooo good, equal weight is given to the Curtbucky of it all, and there's this summering electricity in the Curtgale, and the Buckbucky devotion is so real, it's a true threesome fic and author absolutely nailed it!! also start taking your chances in the same series, WHEW!

I Get A Feeling That I Never Had Before by @darkimpala1897 (Clegan+Hambone) 978 words, so it's short but sweet! Funny and original and creative, and like, of COURSE this is how Buck discovers his feelings for Bucky & Ham.

Learning Curve by @hogans-heroes Clegan through the perspective of Alex Jefferson, explores his friendships with Buck and Bucky, and his observations of them from an outside view! Really heartbreaking and sweet and touching, such a great writing style.

Pegasus by merle_p (Rosie/Bucky) Egan is an absolute horny menace and a terrible authority figure sometimes lmao, and this fic gets it! Loved the characterization in this one. And the ending is just <3

Render Me a Wreck by @almost-a-class-act (Brady/Bucky) you guysssss you GUYSSSSSSS you KNOW I love me a Brady fic and holy shit this one is IT! this one is IT!!!! absolute masterpiece that comes roaring out of the gate and never lets up. a must-read!

save yours, and take mine from me by @corrosivesaints (Brady/Bucky) another Brady fic and I loveeeeee it!!! this author absolutely nails Brady's prickly little personality and the mutual trust and attraction between him and Bucky. and not just trust to not turn each other in, trust as in knowing they need to keep each other ALIVE. which is basically love. as the author said, "guys who are not normal about each other and never will be" <3

Squared Away by @meyerlansky (Curt/Bucky) wheeee you know i love me some John whump, and luckily Curt is there to give him what he needs <3 such a vivid writing style, love it!

the vein in my neck adores you by @galetops (Harding/Bucky) hardingbucky hARDINGBUCKY AAAAAAAAAAA!!!! bro!!!!!! oh it's so delicious, power abuse is one of my fave tropes and John gets fuckeddddddd OVER in this one. gripping. devastating tbh.

Would You Mind? by @johnslittlespoon @nicijones (Ken/Bucky and then Ken/Bucky/Gale) HOT! hot! HOT!!!!!! oh god I was literally melting....... KenBucky is so big brained and the way the authors characterize them is just. so good. did I mention it's HOT??!!?!?!

Clegan+Marge:

A Big Surprise by @sweaterkittensahoy (PerpetualMotion) (Clegan+Marge) MARGE GETS THE STRAP OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! biggest yeah buddy ever!!!!!!!

A Horse is Not a Home by @fascinationstrt (Clegan+Marge) Lovely and sweet, explores their post-war trauma and all of them coming together to support each other and also like. literally coming together. hee hee!!

Barefoot and Bareback by @soliloquy-dawn aaaaabrhrfhgh it's so HOT and physical and playful and fun!!! love the little notes of dom/sub floating in and out, truly just feels like you're watching something sweet and sexy between 3 people who love each other!

clegan fics:

3am eternal by @feyd-meowtha 90s club scene AU, oooff it gets messy, deals with the consequences of John's substance abuse and Gale's avoidance and overall both of their lack of communication, and god!! it's so good

a thousand feet per second by anonymous Sub Gale, Dom Bucky and it's delicioussssss, Gale is not doing well <3

another version of me, I was in it by @majorbuckyegan (brianmaybrianmay) post-war, hurt/comfort sex after Bucky has a nightmare reliving running through the forest. love when Gale gently leads Bucky to where he needs to go!!

baby doll eyes by @ladybundle John gets smashed on stalag hooch and ohhh it's hot and sad and beautiful and full of yearning!!!

Baby I’m on Fire & Keep Me Forever by @oopsiedaisiesbaby Teacher Gale and Student John (not underage fic) and yeesh!!! both of them are a menace tbh and I lovedddd both of these!!!

Before the Dawn by @atlanticslide THE stalag fic, like when I envision them in the stalag, it always turns out that I am just remembering something from this fic!!! especially the parts where they are in separate compounds and talking through the fence!?!?! like ouch. like wow. a slowwww burn and it's so worth it!

Branded by @hogans-heroes Gale stalag whump and protective Buckyyyyyyyyyy <3 oh my heart!!!! so good!!!

crossroads by @shipstorms (ipsilateral) has a BoB tag but you don't need any BoB knowledge for this fic!! Bucky and his unrequited love for Gale and it's ouch....it's oh.... I definitely recommend for the beautiful writing!

diamond eyes by @vveissesfleisch (cunninglinguist) whewwwwww dom gale and sub john and it's awesome!! jealousy and desperation and then getting their shit together in the end <3

Extinct Animals by @feyd-meowtha Mad Max AU, but as someone who has 0% familiarity of Max Max franchise, I can assure you no background knowledge is needed. this fic is BRUTAL. this fic is CRAZY!! it's heartbreaking and feral and raw and everyone is clawing for survival and it's soooooo well-written!

futile devices by @drylite ohhhhhh this one will forever be famous in my mind, John gets sick in the stalag and Gale takes care of him but it's so much more than that, this fic is HUGE to me, the feelings and John's descent into his stalag spiral, it's all so beautifully written!!

He Calls Me Bunny by @johnslittlespoon modern AU, John wears a bunny costume to their college Halloween party and Gale fucks him about it <33333333333 HEART EYES FOR THIS FIC!

hit me where the heart is by @london-cowboy / @luckydeuce Ohhhhh my god this fic. THIS FIC!!! modern BDSM AU, John is a medevac helicopter pilot who once transported Gale from a horrible private plane crash, and then they encounter again years later -- but like. ALSO THERE'S SO MANY OTHER THINGS GOING ON AND IT'S ALL MIND-BLOWING!!! past fucked-up Harding/John and current Harding/Gale and that's just the tip of the iceberg. so good. sooooooo good.

i followed fires by @swifty-fox Wild West/spooky supernatural AU. suing for emotional damages!!!!!! genuinely cried from this fic. and not just sniffle sniffle dab at my eyes. I'm talking tears streaming down my face, can't see anymore, this fic is HOLY SHIT WOW.

I think the love I bear you should make you not to die by @amiserableseriesofevents (WonderGinia) soooooo heartwrenching, multiple timelines and so many times they get so close but then lose each other

if it feels like love (then it must be love) by @rangerelizabeth College AU and it's a goddamn masterpiece!! John is Gale's RA and Gale navigates dorm life and college life and a new relationship and it's just. such a great journey from start to end!

jump the gun by @swifty-fox Part 2 of Outlaw AU (highly recommend Part 1 as well, obviously!) and whoa. hits you right in the gut. love love loveeee how swifty weaves the parallels between show canon and this au, while also keeping it super fresh and creative and you never know what's gonna happen next! there's one particular line that absolutely BROKE me......such a good read

kinktober 2024 by anonymous Goddddd. GODDDDDDDDD. Every time I got an update email for this fic, it was like get hand-delivered a delicious slice of chocolate cake that also happened to encompass like every single dirty kink and fantasy I've ever wanted to read???? author is big-brained. author is living in the 4th dimension. READ THESE!!

kiss my cheek, and pretend we're lovers by @euph0riacc Modern Au - Iraq War, and it's soooo creative and the desert setting is so well-described and the whole ensemble is weaved into this new imagining so well!! truly so creative and so well-executed, highly recommend a read!

knuckleball by @drylite PIT STUFF!!!!!!! PIT STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PIT STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! let me tell you i was screaming pretty much through my entire reading experience of this. did i mention. pIT STUFF??????????????

let us not desert one another; we are an injured body by @irregularcollapse cannibalism fic oh my godddd oh it's sickeninggggg (positive) it's crazy (positive) it's insane (positive)!!

Looking for Eight by @weimarweekly (VoluptuousPanic) modeln rodeo AU. absolutely blows my mind, every single chapter is so perfectly written, it's vivid and it's sweet and it's truly alive!! definitely take your time to savor each paragraph...so worth it.

love means nothing (in tennis) by @irregularcollapse this was in my part 1, but it's had an updateeeeee since then, so go read it!!! gale's orthorexia and overexercising goes brrrrrr

Moecher by @inpotatoeswetrust (Razor_to_the_rosary) fantastic, very show-like dialogue, love the Curt & Bucky friendship keeping it reallll, deals with John's slippery descent into his alcohol abuse and how hard it is to pull oneself out of that path!! but also like. john jerking off to a stolen letter from Gale. dry humping. HOT!!!

never falter or fail by anonymous Post-war John is in the hospital with temporary amnesia after a flight crash, he's getting visitors from his war days, but perhaps not everyone is who they claim to be....really creative, beautiful storytelling!! i'm hooked!!!

No Proof, One Touch by @c-goldthorn sweat kink!!! pit stuff!!! oh you knowwwww I'm here for it! it's flight school and it's so sweeeeeet too i love them so much your honor

Only You Can Cool my Desire by @johnslittlespoon a one-shot in the Tough and Sweet AU (which you should totally check out!!), Gale's POV this time and oohhh overstimulated, begging, overheated John <3

Rack 'Em Up and Knock 'Em Down by @happy-days19 a whump collection, each chapter is a one-shot and super creative and varied!! love it!!

release, please (no longer on ao3) by anonymous Oh goddd I wish I knew who wrote this, if you're out there plssssss shoot me a message, I love this fic so much!!!! Gale lets John piss himself and then he lets him come and christttt. I legit have this saved on my google drive because it's just like. everything to me.

Sous Le Ciel de Paris by @rambleonwaywardson Modern Olympics AU, Gale is an equestrian and John is a gymnast, super creative and well-researched (as ALWAYS by this author!!) and also HORSIES and also JOHN INJURY! hee hee <3

Stripper, Occasionally Hooker by @donotnomi Modern AU, lawyer Gale and dancer John, this AU is everythinggggg to me!!!! corporate intrigue!! paulina and harding at the law office and ensemble at the club! I can't even put into words how sexy and hot and mindblowing stripper john is, somewhere in the realm of surface of the sun perhaps???? I LOVE THIS FIC OH MY GODDDD. I EAT IT UP. I RE-READ IT CONSTANTLY. go read it, I beg of youuuu

Wind in the Wire by @livelaughlove-write extreme gale whump in the stalag, such a great concept and love seeing the author explore it here!

windfall by @rangerelizabeth modern meet-cute, John meets Gale in a corn maze and pretends to be lost so that they can spend more time together <3 so cute!!

Wrapped Around Your Finger (You Say That I'm A Home Run) by @johnslittlespoon Gale cleans up John's face after he picks a fight, and he's a little mean about it and then they fuck about it and it's great!!!

You Don’t Ever Have to be Stronger Than You Really Are by @oopsiedaisiesbaby ABO fic yeah baby!!! except they're stuck in the stalag and they're both miserable and hungry and itching to get out and oh it hits so good!

You, Me, and the Sky by @oopsiedaisiesbaby Major Character Death, so mind the tags, heartbreaking and gripping and terrifying and beautiful and sad!

"You were doing all this to a toothpick?" by anonymous Gale's oral fixation.....yeah you know where this is going >:-)

Your Idiot by @eternallytired17 John gets hit on a mission and doesn't register it until he's literally collapsing wheeeee!!! so good!!!

#mota fic #john egan #gale cleven #john brady #curt biddick #once again mindblown at how talented this fandom is!!!#i love you allllllll #post

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capr1pengu1n · 4 months ago

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A little victim-less crime

Summary: Upon losing a bet, your consequence is to dress up in an outfit of Edward's choosing, while he shares you with his colleague, Jonathan Crane

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader, threesome, dom!Edward and dom!Jonathan, slight scriddler vibes tbh, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, facefucking, hair pulling

Words: 3.4k

Notes: This is FILTHY guys i'm so sorry, this was inspired by a dream i had and i wrote it all in one sitting lmao. It was meant to be more of a drabble while I work on an anon request but um...yeah this happened. This is also my first time writing Jonathan so forgive me if his characterisation is a little rough. part two.

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“Don’t keep us waiting doll, you promised.”

Hearing your boyfriend call to you gives you a rush of excitement and nerves as you stand in his apartment bathroom. Staring at the muted green tiles on the wall, you breathe slowly to prepare yourself before looking in the mirror to adjust your ears. Bunny ears.

You remember the playful bet you made with the two supervillains, hard to forget when you’re dealing with men like them. Edward, your lover, wasn’t too shy about sharing you with his friend, and as such you developed a taste for having both the criminals at once. He still had demands of his sadistic companion, like that he was not to use his fear toxin on you unless he had your explicit consent, even though Edward knows he still wouldn’t allow it; not sharing quite the same appetite for fear, especially yours. Since Edward’s pride also dictated that you could only be with Jonathan when he was present, you began to look forward to times when you knew the doctor would be coming to visit. It was one of such visits when you’d made the remark you were now slightly regretting.

“Oh come on, he clearly has to blink.”

You were referring to Jonathan’s uncanny ability to stare uninterrupted without blinking, causing Edward to chuckle. “Not if he can help it, although I suppose you could always try and outlast him.”

“Outlast me? Please, she couldn’t possibly.” Jonathan drawled, whiskey glass in hand as he smirked. He knew what he was doing, feeding into the competitiveness you tried to hide.

“I can…I’ll prove it.” You replied, overconfident. Before Jonathan could reply, Edward chimed in.

“Why don’t you make it a bet, my dear?”

This caused intrigue to be felt in the room, as you and Jon looked at Edward, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Perhaps, if you win, both me and Jonathan have to…be your servants for an allotted time.” He started, causing Jonathan to scoff. “Now now Crane, don’t be a spoilsport.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly and ask, “and what if Jonathan wins?”

“Don’t I get to decide? Since I’m the one doin’ all the effort here.” Jonathan murmured, before Edward smirked a little.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased with my choice. If Jonathan wins, you have to wear something of my choosing, and be ours for the night.”

You couldn’t deny the offer was tempting, having them both at your beck and call would certainly knock their egos down a peg. Although you had no idea what on earth Edward planned on dressing you as if Jonathan won. But what’s the worst that could happen?

“Fine, deal.”

You can almost hear those two words in your head as you look at yourself now, twisting your body to look from every angle. All your curves were squeezed into a tight black corset style bodysuit that even had a cotton tail on the ass. You were floored when Edward had sent you into the bathroom with the instructions that your costume was on the side of the bath, expecting maybe some plain lingerie. But a playboy bunny suit? You’d blushed the whole time you put it on, pulling up the nylon stockings and attaching the wrist cuffs and bowtie neckpiece. Despite your initial hesitance, you’re sure they’ll like it as you spin in the mirror. It certainly doesn’t hide anything.

“Doll, you’re testing our patience.” You hear Edward say sternly from outside, so you reassure him you’ll be out in a moment. Taking a deep breath, you adjust the silly bunny ears on the top of your head for a final time and leave the bathroom, heading down the small hallway to the living room where the two men were sat.

The tension could be cut with a knife as they both look at you, momentarily stunned. Jonathan’s face seems more shocked; clearly Edward had kept it a secret from him what exactly you’d be wearing. But even Edward’s face looks a little stunned, his eyes greedily drinking it all in as he watches you step forward. Unsure what to do, you stand there, placing your hands behind your back in a submissive way they both seem to appreciate.

“Oh sweetheart, look at you.” Edward remarks, grinning now as he adjusts himself in his seat. “Come over here, give Crane a closer look.”

You know he likes that, reminding everyone in the room that despite the dynamics at play, he still is the one that has full control over you, he’s still the one letting Jonathan see you like this. Obliging him, you move over to where the two men sit on the couch.

“Ain’t she pretty.” Jonathan hums, leaning forward a little to properly inspect your curves.

“Well, I think this was a tremendous idea by me.” Edward says in a self-satisfied manner, before gesturing to the floor. “But I don’t think you should be standing right now, should you dear?”

You shake your head before you even realise, getting on your knees in front of them, keeping your back straight so you look eager. Jonathan huffs out a small laugh, flicking the bunny ears on your head. “Real cute.”

Biting your lip softly, you have a good idea of how this is going to go as you feel Edward’s hand tilt your chin up, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb.

“Are you going to be a good girl for us? Or should I say, a good bunny.” He teases, relishing in how condescending and demeaning it sounds to call you a bunny. Especially since you’re the one who got yourself into this position. Regardless, you nod obediently.

“I’m nice enough to admit that Crane probably deserves the first go, since his freakish eyes won us this sight of you.” He relents, leaning back a little and dropping his hand.

“Damn right I do.” Jonathan mumbles, glaring at Edward having not missed the subtle insult. You hesitate before starting to undo the scarecrow’s belt, not missing the way his eyes flash. “Oh, what an eager bunny you seem to be, that right darlin’?”

He helps you to rid him of his belt and slacks, as you decide to play up the whole pet angle and nuzzle your face into his bulge. A groan is heard from above you as he pulls at your hair a little. “Dirty thing.”

Tugging his boxers down, his cock nearly hits you in the face as he holds you in place with his grip. You look up at him, waiting for permission which causes a rush of blood to go straight to his dick. “Look so good, lookin’ up at me like that.” His voice sounds rougher, emphasising his southern accent in a way that sends shivers up your spine, and forces you to clamp your thighs tightly together. Pushing you forward a little, you get the hint and lick a stripe upwards, repeating the motion a few times.

“Arch your back.” Edward says suddenly, his smug smirk never wavering as he demands you. “You’re my bunny too, remember? I want a show.”

Doing your best to do what he asks, you arch your back to emphasise your ass, even giving it a shake for him. His eyes are fixated on the cotton tail, before nodding as if to tell you he’s pleased. But Jonathan clearly isn’t happy with the change in focus, tugging your hair sharply to get you to continue. Breathing deeply, you open your mouth and start to suckle the tip of his cock, before slowly sinking down and bobbing your head. You’re rewarded with a low sound from Jonathan, making the heat between your legs worsen. Jonathan has never been a particularly loud lover, so any sound you can get him to make is a win, you think, as you keep sucking. Your hands grip Jonathan’s thighs, giving you leverage as you bob your head.

Edward watches the sight, mesmerised as he always is. He’ll never admit it out loud, but seeing both of you like this turns him on to no end. Captivated by how your lips look wrapped around the closest thing he has to a friend, causes him to grip his own thigh tight. You make a soft noise around Jonathan’s cock as you pull off for a moment, licking up it and looking up under your eyelashes. He strokes your cheek softly, his way of praising you without words before you begin again.

“You can do better then that, bunny.” Edward mocks, his hand finding itself in your hair as he starts to slowly move your mouth up and down Jonathan’s length. The doctor takes a sharp intake of breath at the sudden change, as Edward forces you deeper before pulling you nearly all the way off, repeating the action. You moan softly, the vibrations sending shocks up Jonathan’s back as he watches you.

“Good little pet, letting me take control.” Edward says lowly, still controlling your pace. “Show us how good you are. Hands behind your back, lace your fingers together.”

You stutter out another whimper as you do what he instructs, lacing your fingers behind your back. Your reward however seems to be your boyfriend pushing you down faster now, almost trying his best to trigger your gag reflex. Jonathan’s hand finds a home on your shoulder, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your collarbone. You gag softly as Edward pushes your mouth nearly to the base of Jonathan’s cock, pulling you up to catch your breath before shoving you back down. He repeats this over and over, time blurring as you let yourself be used like this.

Despite the fact you can barely think, the one thing you can realise is how strangely intimate this feels. Not for you specifically, but for the two men above you. Edward essentially pleasuring Jonathan himself, with you acting as the toy. Although you can’t dwell on that for too long when Jonathan’s hips start to twitch and thrust up into your hot mouth, causing tears to form in your eyes from the intrusion. Still, you do your best to relax your throat as Edward keeps maneuvering you up and down, your bunny ears sitting askew halfway down your hair.

“Gettin’ close girl, where should I cum hm?” Jonathan rasps out, asking you as if you had the hope of answering as you splutter and choke on his length. Instead, you do your best to look up at him, your thighs pressed together but offering your drenched cunt little relief.

“Maybe I should paint that pretty doll face of yours, or that body in your slutty outfit.” He mumbles, and you swear you’ve never heard him this talkative before while you go down on him. It makes you shiver, before a small groan escape his lips. “Or maybe I’ll just let you drink it all up.”

You make a pleased noise, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as Edward keeps pushing your down further and further on Jonathan’s cock, your nose practically brushing against his pelvis. Jonathan’s hips twitch and his thigh tense, before he cums inside your mouth with a loud groan. Edward holds your position as his partner finishes, before he pulls your hair and lets you off his length.

“Don’t swallow. Be a good bunny and show us.” Edward taunts, knowing how embarrassing the request he’s making of you is. Still, you relent and stick your tongue out for the two criminals, eager to hopefully get a reward for your obedience.

As Edward looks at you both, his friend panting and spent, and his girl on her knees in front of them with cum painted on her tongue, he feels the rush of power and dominance that he craves, his ego through the roof now.

“Good girl, swallow.”

So you do, tasting the bitter cum before catching your breath properly. Your knees slightly ache from being on the floor this long, but you stay with your fingers interlocked.

“So, you gonna fuck her?” Jonathan finally speaks, glancing at Edward, however the narcissist simply shakes his head. You should feel a little embarrassed at how callously the two men discuss this, but you’re so desperate for your lovers’ attention you don’t let it bother you.

“No no…I think I’ll have the same.” He grins, before heat rises to your cheeks. You go to move into position between his legs before he speaks again. “On the sofa.”

Jonathan moves over to accommodate you as you get up next to him, before leaning over until you’re eye level with Edward’s crotch, adjusting your bunny ears. Your boyfriend hums appreciatively and runs a hand down your spine, feeling the material of your costume beneath his fingertips.

“You know what to do.” He says coldly, as you scramble to undo his belt. Meanwhile, Jonathan is greeted to the sight of his life as he practically has your ass in his face. He can’t resist the temptation to gently run his hand over the back of your thighs. The motion causes your desperate state to push back against him, and Jonathan scoffs a little.

With the assistance of Edward, you finally have his cock in front of you as you repeat the action from earlier, licking from base to tip a few times. To watch you jump, the man on the other end of you suddenly spanks you harshly, the gasp escaping your lips pleasing him. Edward utilises this to grab your hair and push you down on himself, not as harshly as before. You start to suck eagerly, bobbing your head up and down as he allows you to set the pace.

Jonathan spanks your other cheek before massaging your ass firmly, enjoying how your body bends and contorts from this angle. He notices that your bodysuit connects at the crotch, and he smirks before tracing his finger along it, ghosting your cunt through the material. You can’t help but let out a noise around Edward’s cock, needy for anything as you grind against the digit.

“Oh, you dumb little pet. Are you that needy?” Edward starts, ever the motormouth even when getting head. You nod around him.

“I suppose I could make m’self useful.” Jonathan says, a teasing lilt in his tone as he gently traces the seams of your bodysuit.

“You want that? Want Crane to play with you, bunny?” Edward asks, revelling in your needy whine. “Seems like she does…”

“Wouldn’t want her clawing at the furniture.” Jonathan remarks, and before you can remind him that you’re a bunny, not a cat, Edward pushes your head down just as Jonathan rips open the crotch of your bodysuit. You gag softly, feeling as Jonathan strokes up and down your dripping folds; Edward hadn’t left you any underwear to go with your costume. His finger trails up to gently play with your clit as Edward lets you breathe. Moaning, you tilt your head to look up at your boyfriend and observe the smug look etched onto his features before you go back to your job, sucking with vigour as Jonathan increases the pressure. Before long, he trails down and pushes a finger inside your cunt, the sound of how wet you are seemingly echoes around the room.

Both you and Edward let out a groan at this, your cunt finally being filled as you back yourself up on the doctor’s fingers, before he graciously adds a second one. The slick sounds of his digits fucking your pussy can barely be heard over the equally depraved sounds of you sucking Edward like your life depends on it. Your boyfriend is in heaven, truly having the best show of his life in front of his eyes. You can feel your bunny ears slip down again as Edward runs his fingers through your hair, before he corrects them on top of your head.

“So slutty, must be quite the honour. To have pleasured both of the most wanted criminals in Gotham, hm?” Edward teases, always having to mention himself even when trying to make you more wanton and desperate.

“I suppose that’s just what bunnies like her are made for.” Jonathan joins in, moving his fingers quicker and harsher. You moan out around Edward, the condescension making your clit throb. Your lovers’ hips twitch a little, forcing his cock deeper as you relax your throat. Making an almost pornographic slurping noise, you double down on your efforts as Jonathan pleasures you more and more.

“So good, what a good slut.” Edward praises, his hand running down so he can move his thumb over your cheeks as you suck.

Your pussy tightens at his words, Jonathan feeling this and smirking more. He uses his other hand to spank your ass again harshly, wanting to keep you on edge. Curling his fingers a little, your eyes roll back as you’re filled from both ends. You can’t deny that you love this, love feeling like a plaything for two men that strike fear in the majority of Gotham’s citizens. It makes you feel powerful in your own way, having almost tamed them in a manner of speaking. As you push yourself down so Edward’s cock hits the back of your throat, you know that you have the riddler addicted to you and the devotion you give him. You know just how to make him feel like a king, how to give him the praise and attention he feels he deserves, and you love giving it to him for moments like this. Where you can just switch your brain off and let yourself be a pet, a bunny, for them both.

“God, what a mouth.” He mumbles, slapping your cheek gently to punctuate his words as he barely suppresses yet another groan.

“She really is somethin’ else.” Jonathan agrees, his fingers never stopping their relentless pace inside you.

“And all mine, aren’t you?”

You realise that despite it all, this is Edward’s way of asking for reassurance, and you’re all to happy to nod around him. However, with the intense onslaught of sensation, especially now that Jonathan has slipped his other hand around your thigh to rub at your clit, you know you’re getting close. You pull off Edward with a pop before hurriedly speaking.

“Getting close…” you warn them both, before going back to your blowjob as Edward moans softly at your announcement.

“Yeah? Gonna cum sweetheart? Cum from being the riddler’s pet bunny?” he goads you, as he watches you moan desperately around him. “Don’t you dare pull off. Want to watch you cum with my cock in your mouth, understand?”

You nod, as Jonathan speeds up his firm circles on your clit. You’re in heaven, the comforting weight of your boyfriend on your tongue as Jonathan fingers you into oblivion. After a few moments, you’re cumming on Jonathan’s fingers with a moan, the intensity causing your whole body to shake. Edward groans at the sight, gripping your hair in place before thrusting up into your mouth. You swear you’re still orgasming, letting him use you as your mouth goes slack. It doesn’t take long before Edward finishes in your mouth with a grunt, letting go of your hair. You pull off and swallow, before taking sharp intakes of breath. Only then does Jonathan pull his fingers out of you, crudely wiping them on your ass.

Edward pulls you up, letting you rest against him, stroking his hand up and down your back gently.

“That alright?” he asks, like he always does. With your nod, he relaxes a little more. “You looked truly delectable in that costume. I really did make the right choice.”

“What was it between?” Jonathan pipes up. He never really is one for aftercare, but still sticks around, occasionally stroking an area of your body absentmindedly.

“This, or a maid outfit.” He explains, looking at your form with a smirk. “I went with something classy.”

“Classy?” you repeat, “You can practically see my whole ass.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Jonathan asks, causing you to scoff and giggle.

“Well, the iconic playboy bunny outfit design was finalised in the early 60s by a French designer, so yes I’d argue it’s very classy.” Edward says, adjusting the bunny ears on your head. “Playboy bunnies are also required to know and identify 143 brands of liquor, and bend down in a certain way to serve men their drinks.”

“Alright alright, I’m not going that far.” You say with a small laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Not yet.” He mutters teasingly.

#the riddler #the riddler x reader #riddler smut #dc fanfic #dc smut #edward nygma #edward nygma smut #edward nygma x reader #the scarecrow #jonathan crane #the scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane x reader #the scarecrow smut #jonathan crane smut #scriddler #scriddler x reader #riddler x reader #dc x reader #batman x reader

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captn-trex · 2 months ago

Text

consequences be damned

Wolffe x F!Reader

word count: 3.3k

description: commander wolffe likes to berate you when you go against his orders, but this time, you can't supress the visceral reaction it brings.

warnings: not necessarily enemies to lovers but... a decent amount of arguing, mentions of negative clone treatment, i think that's it? idk man I'm tired

a/n: this is for all the girlies that cry when someone raises their voice at them! (me) anyway... i get nervous when discussing the treatment of clones and other kinda touchy stuff bc i just have this nagging feeling that i'm always interpreting stuff wrong, so I hope the stuff wolffe says at the end makes sense lmao

You heard your name called after you before you managed to make your escape to your quarters, desperately trying to avoid confrontation. Ignoring the Commander’s calls, you hurried down the hall, your strides much wider than your usual gait. You managed to get the door open, but a large hand wrapped around your wrist before you could evade the uncomfortable conversation.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Commander snarled, tugging you back into the corridor and slamming his fist into the control panel to shut the door.

You lifted your eyes to his for a moment, your head still angled to the floor as if it would shield you from his foul temper. You had never seen him so angry.

“I asked you a question, soldier” He said, his voice dangerously low as his face drew near to yours, “Did you really think I’d let you off after what you just pulled?”

“Sir, I didn’t mean to—”

Wolffe interrupted you with a sarcastic laugh, “Didn’t mean to? You’ll have to do better than that”

You couldn’t look at him. You knew he’d react like this when he found out, but you still hated when he was angry with you. He was more hard on you than his brothers, he always had been. So much so that you felt there was something unsaid between the two of you, that there was some itch that he wouldn’t stop scratching even though he wouldn’t acknowledge what it was.

“I’m sorry sir” You peeped out. It was the only thing you could say.

You had no explanation for your actions. You had gone directly against his orders, knowingly, deliberately. You knew he would find out, you knew he’d berate you for it, and you did it anyway. You’d do it again if you got the chance.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it” He began, and you let him scold you without interruption, “I have told you, countless times, you do not get involved in the conflict. No matter what. Do you know how it makes me look?”

He paused, but you knew the question was rhetorical. In that silence it was hard not to think about the feel of his hand wrapped around your wrist, still keeping you in your place.

“I makes me look like I can’t control those under my command. If a medic can go against my orders then what’s to stop the rest of the men? Or the other nat-borns? I mean, do you even think? Clearly you don’t. You don’t have combat training, you could’ve been hurt, or you could have died”

He continued on, but you tuned him out. You had heard this barrage of demeaning comments more than once, and it was starting to feel like maybe it had become one time too many. If you had any more backbone you would’ve told him how much you despised when he did this. Although, Wolffe — along with almost everybody aboard the ship — was above you in rank. You couldn’t possibly give back to him this belittling commentary, so once again you stayed silent.

The worst part was that most of the time, Wolffe wasn’t even unbearable to be around, far from it. At any other time he was kind, in his own way. It wasn’t a way in which you’d seen anyone else express kindness, but you’d come to understand the way he operated a little by now. For example, something you had retroactively realised was a display of compassion, was that when you first joined the 104th, he had checked up on you everyday, albeit not in a particularly cheerful way. He had made sure you were comfortable in your new quarters, the ones you were now stood outside of being reprimanded.

There was something gnawing at the back of your mind, the feeling that you shouldn’t have to put up with this. You could hear your father in the back of your head, telling you that you had to learn to stand up for yourself. You hadn’t looked up at Wolffe once through his ranting, and you didn’t plan on it either, especially now as you felt your eyes becoming heavy with tears.

It was a natural response. You never liked being told off, and right now you felt as if you were a child again, your parents giving you a lecture about your shortcomings. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in a similar manner, silent and unacknowledged.

You didn’t know when Wolffe had finished laying into you, but when you stopped reflecting on the past and came back to the present moment, you realised that he wasn’t speaking anymore. You hazarded a look at him, once again keeping your chin pointed down. He was just staring down at you, his scowl replaced in favour of a more uneasy frown, finally removing his hand from your wrist.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, clearly unsure of how to even approach the situation.

“I’m fine” You replied, and your voice was surprisingly even.

He was still just peering down at you through his creased brow, frozen in his place and out of his depth.

“Why are you crying?” He addressed the situation head on.

“I’m not crying”

“You are”

“I’m n—”

“You are”

You looked to your feet, feeling absolutely infinitesimal under the full scrutiny of his commanding presence.

“Alright fine, maybe I am” You admitted in a whisper.

“Why?” He asked firmly.

“No reason”

“No reason?”

“Yep, no reas—”

“Stop it” He interrupted again, “What’s wrong?”

You let out a long breath, your chest heaving before it escaped your pursed lips. You could taste the saltiness of your tears, and you lifted a hand to wipe one of your cheeks.

“I just don’t like being told off okay? I can’t help it”

“I wasn't telling you off, I was—”

When he didn’t finish his sentence your eyes flicked back up to his. His frown had softened, and he was now chewing on his lip as if he was looking for something to say. You huffed quietly, your cheeks scorching with embarrassment at the whole situation.

“If it's alright with you sir, I'd like to retire to my quarters now” You spoke quietly, trying to escape this situation that was nothing if not awkward.

Wolffe stepped back from you, clearing his throat, “Yeah, go ahead”

You turned back to your door and opened it up. You had only taken one step inside when Wolffe spoke up again.

“Wait”

You turned around, your eyes finding his, flitting between the cybernetic and the natural. His usual scowl was nowhere to be seen, and he just looked at you with a plain expression, something unreadable.

“I don't want to have to tell you off” He said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You mustered up a little courage after his change in demeanour, “Then why do you?”

His throat bobbed as he gulped, “I just want you to be safe”

The way that he was staring at you was entirely too much for you to cope with, so you lowered your gaze once again before you replied.

“Thank you sir, I appreciate that”

Wolffe reached up slowly, gently taking your chin and guiding your eyes to his. He gazed upon you with the utmost sincerity and apology as his thumb swept across your still-wet cheek.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you”

“That's oka—”

“It's not” He spoke resolutely, with no room for argument, then softened his voice a little, “You understand that I don't like to be angry with you, right?”

Something about your expression must have conveyed a sense of doubt, because Wolffe frowned when you didn’t reply.

“Do you really think-?”

“I don't think, remember?” You replied, in a oddly humorous way, despite the previous tone of the conversation. Wolffe gave you a disapproving look, and you backtracked, “Sorry Commander”

Wolffe was still holding you face, and the way his eyes were searching yours was making your stomach erupt into butterflies. His gaze was captivating, cementing you in place and rendering you speechless in a completely different way to when he had been scolding you earlier. You didn’t want to be the first one to break away, and thankfully Wolffe came to his senses soon enough.

“I should go”

He dropped his hand from your chin and stepped back. You nodded subtly in reply to his words, still unable to form your own, and he turned to leave with haste.

You watched him walk away as you leaned on your doorway, stalking down the hall with a pace to rival your hurried steps from earlier. His head turned back to you briefly, and you both instantly looked away, you stepping back into your room and closing the door as you felt your cheeks burn hot from being caught watching him.

It felt like something had shifted in your relationship, like something significant had happened. Perhaps it was your inadvertent show of vulnerability, perhaps it was the way his touch set your skin alight. Whatever it was, it was something that you couldn’t take back. Whatever was unsaid between you was coming to light, and you cursed your racing heart for getting ahead of itself.

You were crouched behind cover, your eyes locked on a trooper that had been knocked to the ground. He wasn’t moving, but going over to see if he was still alive was too risky, even if the focus of the enemy’s fire wasn’t in his direction any longer. You lingered, waiting to see even the slightest twitch of his fingers. He continued to lay motionless, his body sprawled in an uncomfortable position from the heavy blow he had received. You hoped, prayed, and they were answered in an instant, the man’s body curling in on itself as he groaned in pain.

You gulped, and slowly turned to look over your shoulder, only to see Wolffe watching you like a hawk.

“Don't you dare” He shook his head slowly, his voice low, almost a growl.

You hung your head a little, squeezing your eyes closed for a brief moment.

“I'm sorry Commander”

You rushed out from behind the cover, hearing your name being screamed after you in a desperate plea for you to do anything else. You didn’t pay attention, you were solely focused on making it to the trooper.

You pulled the man to his feet, throwing his arm around your shoulders and making your way back to cover, but you were not so lucky as to evade danger. Blasterfire ripped through the air surrounding you, causing you to duck out of its path, and take the injured man down with you.

“Get out of here!” The Commander shouted at you, stepping in front of you and shooting at the droids that had focused their fire in your direction.

You dragged to man the short distance back to cover, and as you were giving him a once over, assessing the issue, Wolffe ordered another medic to take over and tugged you further back from the front lines, around the corner of a crumbling building.

“What the kriff is the matter with you?”

He was angry. More angry than he had ever been, more angry than the previous rotation. And yet, there was a far clearer emotion swimming in his non-cybernetic eye, dripping from his pinched brows, washing over you with every heavy breath he exhaled. Worry, concern, utter distress.

“I thought I made it pretty clear that I don't want you anywhere near the action” He growled, evidently struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Despite his afflicted demeanour, you didn’t feel like having a repeat of the previous rotation, and the adrenaline coursing through your veins only sought to heighten you irritation.

“And I thought I made it pretty clear that I don't appreciate being told off” You grumbled back to him, not feeling brave enough to say it with your chest.

“Then stop doing stupid things!” He rebutted, his voice conveying every inch of exasperation he felt.

You shook your head as you dragged your gaze from him, starting to walk away. You weren’t going to be talked to like this again. For the second time in the last rotation, Wolffe’s hand shot out and wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back.

“I'm talking to you”

“Well I'm not talking to you” You snapped, snatching back your arm and finally letting your irritation take over.

At first, Wolffe appeared to be taken aback. You had never so much as argued back at him before, but something about the fire burning in his eye told you that it was welcomed. He wanted you to fight back. He liked that you were fighting back.

“I refuse to be reprimanded for doing the right thing” You continued, letting him hear your true feelings on the matter.

“You refuse?” Wolffe seemed almost amused.

“Yes” You replied, but your confidence was slipping, “I refuse”

Wolffe laughed, taking a step towards you, “And I suppose you think you have the authority to refuse my orders? Seeing as it's the only thing you can seem to do right”

You stepped away from him, but with every step you took, he followed after you. It wasn’t long until he had backed you into the wall, and was towering over you with a challenging look on his face.

“I have free will, is what I have” You puffed out your chest in defiance, causing it to come into contact with his chestplate, “And I will use it to do the right thing, consequences be damned”

“It must be nice to be you, huh?”

You just frowned, not entirely sure what made him say that.

Wolffe’s face became stern, “You just get to flit about, playing the hero when you could so easily become the martyr acting the way you do, claiming it's all about ‘free will’ and ‘doing the right thing’. Well guess what? I don't have those luxuries. If I disobey orders, I get court martialled. I don't have free will, and I don't get to do the right thing, I get to do as I'm told”

You swallowed thickly as your body recoiled from his in shame. From his perspective, your actions certainly seemed silly and plainly misguided. Perhaps they were.

“I'm sorry Commander, I didn’t think—”

“No, you don't think, do you?” He retorted quickly.

You frowned deeply, drawing an enervated sigh from Wolffe.

“I would love to be able to consider what is right and wrong, but I am simply not allowed. Having the ability to think, to form thoughts unique to myself, but not get to enact any sort of ‘free will’, it's—” He breathed deeply, his forearm coming to rest on the wall beside your head, “Oh, the things I would do if I had free will”

His eyes bored into you through heavy eyelids, his self control hanging by a thread. He was so close to you, his body pressing yours into the wall, and it was taking all of your strength to not melt against him.

“What would you do?” You spoke softly, guiding him in the right direction.

He didn’t waste any time in replying.

“I would tell you that the reason I don't want you around the action, the reason I can't stand your stupid moral compass which makes you do stupid things, is because the idea of you getting hurt is my own personal hell. I would grab you and hold you close and keep you safe, I would never let you go. I would—” He puffed out a quick breath, mingling it with your own as he drew impossibly closer, “I would kiss you, and do every other thing I've been dreaming of since the first moment I met you. I would throw all of this away, if I got that chance”

There was not a single one of his words that were processing in your brain. For a moment you just stared at him, shocked, before the surprise melted from your face and you offered every measure of tenderness within you in a single look.

“Wolffe” You whispered, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek.

His eyes closed at your touch, and his troubled expression eased slightly. He let out a shaky breath as he took in the warmth of your skin on his, but as soon as he had revelled in it for a moment too long, he put up his walls again.

“But it doesn’t matter, because I don't have free will” He stepped back from you but you were determined now, following after him.

“Well I do”

You practically leapt at him, your hands finding the back of his neck and pulling him against you, bringing him into a searing kiss. His hands instantly flung around your waist, tightening around you and drawing you into his body as if he was never going to let go, just as he promised. It was as if he only needed you to be the one that initiated it, and now, he had forgotten everything that was stopping him in the first place.

You let your fingers tangle in the curls at the base of his neck, and he pushed you backwards into the wall again, a soft groan sounding in the back of his throat. One hand came up to cup your cheek, and you were surprised at how softly he held you, a direct contrast to the way that he was devouring your lips, consuming your very soul with only his mouth and tongue.

You had to pull away, gasping for breath, and he did the same. He held you close as you both caught your breath, staring into each other’s eyes with a newfound fondness. It was intoxicating, to see him like this; his chest heaving from having kissed you with such an intensity. You felt like your psyche was being ripped from you with each heavy exhale, and you were watching from outside of your body.

“I'm never letting you go now” He continued to hold onto you like his life depended on it, burying his face in the exposed skin of your neck.

“I thought-”

“Don’t” He rumbled, “I don't care what I said before, there's no going back now”

You sighed blissfully and mirrored him, and coiling your arms around his neck and holding him tightly. The feel of his breath against your neck was heady, deeply exhilarating, but in the quiet of the moment, you couldn’t help but remember you were in the middle of a battle.

“Maybe we should-”

He lifted his head and cut you off with a deep kiss. You were powerless to stop him, but you didn’t care to anyway.

“Just a little longer” He pleaded, his eyes soft and slightly widened, “Please”

You let a small smile lift the edges of your lips, enamoured by the soft side that this kind of treatment brought out of him. It was almost amusing, how different he was acting as compared to his usual authoritative demeanour. He was putty in your hands, and you didn’t quite know how to handle it.

You brushed your lips lightly against his and spoke with a teasing edge, “Yes sir”

taglist: @darthnihila @cdblake1565

#trex writings #star wars #the clone wars #clone troopers #tcw #star wars clone wars #clones #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper #clone wars #clone commander wolffe #commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #wolffe x reader #clone trooper wolffe #sw tcw #104th battalion #divider by saradika

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sundrop-writes · 9 months ago

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Okay but Emily or JJ kinks headcanons?

Okay, nothing fancy or over-edited, right off the top of my head:

(Reader is intended to gender neutral - let me know if I flubbed anywhere, and there is mentions of Will x JJ. I'm not gonna list the kinks like I would for a typical fic because this is basically just a big list of kinks lmao. Don't click through if you're uncomfortable with mentions of BDSM and anal.)

Emily would have a Mommy kink.

But she would also have a Mistress kink? Or she would love being called M'am. She would love a title. She loves it when you call her by a title that nobody else can call her.

I feel like Emily would be the type of person who would love BDSM as a lifestyle - she would love casual dominance and being called by her title being closed doors even if you're not engaged in a sexual act. She would be obsessed with having a partner who is willing to strip naked and wait, sitting pretty for her when she comes home.

She would also love collaring for that reason - because she would love the idea of owning you. (She would also definitely get you a pet tag with her name on it, or something that says 'property of Emily'.) And she would get you some kind of necklace with the letter E on it to wear casually in public so people subtly know that you're hers when you're not wearing your collar.

She loves the idea of owning you, not just because she sees you as property, but because she understands under the BDSM lifestyle, she takes care of you fully - making sure that you eat, drink enough water, take care of your health, and she will fully assume that role because taking care of you means that she gets to come home to a willing fuckhole that she can use however she wants, and she will take care of your body because she loves you and loves that body - as much as she will punish you and fuck you senseless when you both need that too.

She has a strap and she loves to use it on you. She also definitely loves to fuck you in the ass - with lots and lots of lube. She loves fucking all your holes, including your throat. (Because she owns them.)

I feel like Emily would have a pain kink. She definitely loves delivering pain and seeing you squirm (as long as you're into it) - she loves spanking and seeing the results; seeing how you can barely walk or sit down properly days after. And she might use a tool like a paddle or a flogger, but she loves a good ole fashioned hand spanking, because she loves feeling the glow on her palm of the skin to skin collisions.

She is also obsessed with rules. It's one of the reasons that she loves BDSM. She will make so many rules for you - when you can cum, when you can and can't touch yourself, when you can use your toys, what specific consequences you get if you break the rules.

She will also make rules for when you're supposed to eat and that you're supposed to eat healthy, and how much water you're supposed to drink in a day - because she demands that your (slutty) body belongs to her, and you have to take care of it if you want her to touch you.

Emily is a hard dom in my opinion - I don't think she would sub for anyone. She loves being in charge, and she is looking for a pet that she can fuck senseless and take care of - that's what she wants out of a relationship.

As for JJ?

JJ is a lot softer.

I think JJ is a switch. I think JJ could be a sub to the right person (and that person is not Will - in that relationship, she walks him like a dog. Henry was conceived by Will begging to nut and JJ giving him permission) - anyway, JJ could be a sub, but it would have to be to a really bossy, demanding person (like Emily) - otherwise she is dominant and bossy and in control.

JJ probably also has a Mommy kink. It's probably not something she would ask to be called - but she would love it if it slipped out of your mouth by accident, and she would be sooo turned on by you calling her that.

I feel like JJ would have a thing for pet names - she would call you baby, honey, sweetie, sweet pea, etc. she would call you so many different pet names, and if she found one that really made you shy or turned you on, then she would press on with that one and call you that all the time. She loves getting a reaction out of you.

She loves soft sex and making love. She is the type of person to kiss all over your body and body worship you with her mouth - definitely into heavy, heavy verbal praise. Again, she loves getting a reaction out of you, and if she sees that verbal praise makes you shrink back in shyness or makes you moan extra hard, then she will pour it on even thicker - tell you how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how gorgeous you look while you're cumming.

She also loves teasing. She loves to see your reaction when your body slowly winds up - when you're becoming more turned on, when your muscles are tensing and your hips are surging forward toward her touch, silently begging for more. In this same vein, she also does enjoy orgasm denial (but not to a severe degree) - because she loves to wind you up and see how whiny and desperate you get when she pulls back her touch right before you cum. She does love to hear you beg for her and say her name when you beg to cum - but she is the type of person to only deny you once (maybe twice) before letting you cum.

Aaaaand what else ? JJ is super touchy imo. So I feel like she would love running her hands all over your body during sex, and she would need cuddles after sex. She loves skin on skin touching when it's simple and gentle on top of mindblowing orgasms (and giving you orgasms).

(That's all I've got for now).

#sundrop writes #requests #requested #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss headcanons #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau headcanons

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lethby · 6 months ago

Text

What's wrong with lesson 16 (everything)

A list by yours truly, who is about to collapse if she doesn't vent about it (TW: opinion lmao)

⍣ ೋ The time-travel shit

LITERALLY WHY

It creates so many problems and plot holes that could easily be avoided for no reason.

We leave everyone behind and it's never even addressed?? THEY'RE WAITING FOR US???

Barbatos, supposedly the one that cares about balance and timelines, just goes "well you're stuck here and I literally erased the other MC, good ending :D"

He told her "don't run into anyone" and she decides FIRST THING to head where all the noise is coming from, not trying to hide at all

⍣ ೋ No consequences whatsoever

It's awesome to know no one cared about MC dying

Sure, she's "alive" now, but everyone moved on so quickly??? Even Mammon, who was in the verge of a meltdown.

And it's all because we're Lilith's descendant how convenient

Even Belphie, our murderer who has hated humans for MILLENNIA, had a major switch up at this

Also, the brothers begin to completely disregard MC by treating her like Lilith

Look I understand, it's your dead sister and you miss her, BUT MC IS NOT HER. SHE IS HER OWN GODDAMN PERSON

But the worst part is... MC IS SO DAMN CHILL ABOUT IT

Even if she technically isn't the one who died, you'd expect some kind of uneasiness coming from her, SPECIALLY AROUND BELPHIE

Words can't express how much I hate it

⍣ ೋ Solution

I'm gonna make the devs a favor and fix their game

REVIVAL

MC JUST REVIVES FOR WHATEVER REASON (Lilith's will, the last remnants of her powers, Barbatos' precautions...)

Now you don't have to worry about too many plot holes, focusing on just one timeline

Also this allows her to remember her death, making her trauma more intense and veridical

I know it sounds crazy but if they could pull off lesson 16, they can pull this off

Make the brothers indecisive

They got their little brother back, but at what cost?

Everything is fine now, right? But it's not. MC is not "fine"

Make them conflicted between taking MC's side and comforting her but also welcoming Belphie and make up

MAKE MC UNCOMFORTABLE

I can't stress enough how important this part is

Give her TIME to evolve, develop as a character, and understand her feelings

She wouldn't want to be around Belphie, at all

She might not even wanna be around the others, seeing as they treat her like nothing happened

Make her upset, confused, feel like she doesn't belong, ANYTHING

MAKE HER GO THROUGH THE STAGES OF GRIEF

In fact, if you want to make her relationship with Belphie nourish, you can do that too by not just hey lol I killed you but I'm good now

Make her have nightmares

That's it

Make Belphie notice the dark circles under her eyes and the way she avoids him, then discover she has nightmares

The "now" Belphie could feel guilty

He might try to comfort her, only for her to shy away in response

Seeing as his apologies don't work this early into the trauma, he could enter her dreams and chase those nightmares away, every night, sacrificing his own sleep

THAT is a dynamic I want to see, personally

This could have been done with or without the time-travel, btw

In the time-travel, though, I was also missing some grieving from MC

Remember when I said to make the brothers conflicted? Make MC suffer more too

She wants to go back to her time, her universe, her family. They're waiting for her

But she also doesn't want to leave behind these demons, which have just found peace and happiness after a long time

Here's the catch, No matter what she chooses, she's forced to live her life regretting whatever decision she makes, since she can't make everyone happy and one side must suffer inevitably

An MC going through a heavy trauma and eventually (and slowly) overcoming it would just click with so many players

⍣ ೋ Conclusion

To me, the game didn't fully explore the feelings that going through that experience would bring for everyone, even if the idea itself was interesting. No, more like it didn't WANT to. Making MC go through all that would mean a lot of character development for a big amount of characters and little romance, which is what the game is about.

However, if you can't make that sacrifice, don't settle your game in a world rich in lore. And honestly, with all the explanations and back stories, I don't think obey me! is lacking on that. More so that, even if they were fully capable, they didn't want to go through all the trouble. Remember we're coming from an already fucked up scenario that took a lot of chapters.

Finally, this is just my opinion based on my experience. Of course, you don't have to agree with me in any way.

I have to say, that was relaxing lmaoo

Anyways, since I really like this idea and I've seen several people do it, I'm gonna make my own fanfic exploring how I think lesson 16 would have turned out realistically, hope you stay tuned!

Lethby ༊*·˚

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youremyheaven · 6 months ago

Text

The Severity, Spirituality and Stoicism of Saturnians ✊🏼🧎‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️

I will be criticizing Saturnian men throughout this post, if you don't like that, stop reading right now <3

Saturn is the planet of karma, justice, discipline, and order. In Claire's video about Saturnian men, she observed that "in Saturnian men you will find an exact duality contained here in breaking rules and doing strange stunts, pranks and having outbursts etc but also paradoxically find themselves submitting to ideologies, cults, political parties, motivational affirmations etc"

I feel like I touched upon this a bit in my first post about Saturn and in this post I'd like to go into different manifestations of this tendency along with some other things I've observed with Saturnian men.

Timothee Chalamet, UBP Moon

Full disclosure, I've never liked him lmao,, I think the hype he gets is undeserved and 90% bc of the fact that there is a dearth of young charismatic actors in Hollywood.

But anywayyys, Timmy Tim first attracted controversy for working with Woody Allen even though he's since expressed regret for it or whatever,, then he received flak for having sex in a pool during the height of the pandemic and manyyyy blinds about him giving women chlamydia 💀💀started making the rounds and he was lowkey exposed for being a whore

Then last year he drew criticism for smoking indoors at a Beyonce concert (where smoking is prohibited) and he's literally talking to Kylie and blowing smoke ??? at the same time?? which is sooo filthy?? who tf does that??

His silence on the Armie Hammer issue and pretty much all issues lol have also been criticized. Everybody thought he'd be some woke liberal activist but he's just been dead quiet and pretty self absorbed the whole time. He loves to lap attention and give absolutely nothing in return to the community.

The thing with Saturn however is that, bad behaviour does not go unpunished. Timmy Tim has been getting A LOT of flak and the total rose tinted obsession people had with him is slowly fading (even tho he still has legions of fans). People are now starting to see his true colors.

But anyway, this is a very minor issue compared to all the other Saturnians I'm going to mention next.

Jeffrey Epstein, UBP Moon, Anuradha Rising

I'm assuming most of you are familiar with sex offender Epstein. He has trafficked thousands of underage girls over the course of decades and to satiate numerous high profile paedophiles.

He committed suicide while in prison. One thing about Saturn is that, if you stray, are immoral, unfair, undisciplined, corrupt, foul, evil etc it WILL punish you. The truth is Saturnians know deep down that what they're doing IS wrong, they're not like Moon dominants who are completely convinced their corrupt evil idea is a "good" one. Saturnians know full well what they're doing and they do it anyway and they suffer its consequences.

Inviting Saturn's wrath upon oneself is basically how these natives find "balance", they feel like they get away with too much and they're constantly pushing their limits to see how far they can go before this wrath comes for them.

Epstein had been doing this for decades without much consequence, working with extremely high profile people including politicians and royalty. Eventually, he was caught and the truth of his immorality was exposed for all to see AND he ended his own life.

Salvador Dali- UBP Moon

Dali was known for being an eccentric and a weirdo and you can say that the way he pushed his boundaries as an artist is a more "positive" manifestation of Saturnian individuals and their need to test limits.

However, Dali was also a pretty messed up guy

Dali admitted on several occasions to having sadomasochistic tendencies. As a child he enjoyed throwing himself down the stairs, explaining that “The pain was insignificant, the pleasure was immense”. Shockingly, he once pushed his childhood friend off of a 15-foot bridge – as his friend lay injured, Dali apparently sat calmly eating cherries.

Pleasure and pain seemed intimately entwined. Dali wanted both. One other childhood incident of note included a wounded bat. It was kept in Dali's washhouse hideaway and stayed there overnight. When Dali returned to it was being devoured by a mass of ants. He impulsively bit into the seething mass delirious with pleasure.

I had briefly mentioned how Saturnians tend to be sadomasochistic in my previous post about Saturn and these examples just confirm it further.

When he is an adolescent a girl falls desperately in love with him. He kisses and caresses her so as to excite her as much as possible, but refuses to go further. He resolves to keep this up for five years (he calls it his ‘five-year plan’), enjoying her humiliation and the sense of power it gives him. He frequently tells her that at the end of the five years he will desert her, and when the time comes he does so.

When he first meets his future wife, Gala, he is greatly tempted to push her off a precipice. He is aware that there is something that she wants him to do to her, and after their first kiss the confession is made:

I threw back Gala's head, pulling it by the hair, and trembling with complete hysteria, I commanded: ‘Now tell me what you want me to do with you! But tell me slowly, looking me in the eye, with the crudest, the most ferociously erotic words that can make both of us feel the greatest shame!’ Then Gala, transforming the last glimmer of her expression of pleasure into the hard light of her own tyranny, answered: ‘I want you to kill me!’

He is somewhat disappointed by this demand, since it is merely what he wanted to do already. He contemplates throwing her off the bell-tower of the Cathedral of Toledo, but refrains from doing so.

George Orwell once described Dali this way:

"The two qualities that Dali unquestionably possesses are a gift for drawing and an atrocious egoism."

Art historian and critic Brian Sewell has also claimed that Dali once asked him to lie naked in front of one of his sculptures and masturbate whilst he watched.

He was also obsessed with Hitler in a perverse way.

While the vast majority of the Surrealist group professed far-Left political leanings, Dali kept curiously quiet during his early career, before being kicked out of the group for being a Nazi sympathiser, which he denied. Dali went on to make artwork addressing the Hitler, including “The Enigma of Hitler” (above) and “Hitler Masturbating”, once detailing that he “often dreamed of Hitler as a woman” and that the Nazi dictator “turned [him] on”.

He was a big old fascist who also supported the Spanish dictator Franco which made Picasso stop talking to him for the rest of his life. Orwell who fought in the Spanish civil war called Dali a "disgusting human being".

At age six, Dal�� writes in his autobiography, he pre-meditated a "terrible kick" to his three-year-old sister's head "as though it had been a ball." Not simply childish not-knowing-better, this baseless cruelty continued as Dalí got older.

Here is an article that says more about his shitty behaviour.

Here is another article about his fcked up relationship with his sister

Saturn never fails to punish tho. It will let you fck up but punishment is imminent.

Dali died in his 80s, almost penniless, completely alone, as he had driven all his friends off decades prior, his wife had already passed and he was seriously ill and bedridden. He used button to call his nurse and one day that button short circuited and set him/the bed on fire. He suffered second and third degree burns all over his body. He lived for another four years in severe pain before passing away.

Just because you go a whole lifetime avoiding punishment, does not mean it isn't coming. People who suffer in old age have it the worst because you suffer 100x more

Dali was a Saturn defying narcissistic, violent, abusive person and guess what Saturn did? It saved it all up for the very end and left him without any kind of mercy. Friendless, penniless, bedridden, in excruciating pain, FOR YEARS until he finally died.

Saturn punishes you/is a harsh teacher because it wants you to uphold the Saturnian qualities of virtue, justice, fairness, doing your duty etc, you may never see the rewards of your good actions, so it may feel like a waste of time to keep being so principled but if you decide to just do whatever and disobey, you best believe Saturn will come through with that wrath. You have to keep being virtuous and morally upright even if you don't see yourself being "rewarded" for it. No one may recognise your goodness but keep being good anyway.

Alexander Graham Bell, Venus in UBP in 2h, Saturn in Shatabhisha in 1h

He is the guy who invented the telephone but he was also a very controversial deaf educator in his time.

Bell's father was a teacher of the deaf. His method of teaching the deaf was coined "Visible Speech." Bell's mother was deaf/hearing impaired and he would often speak to her by placing his mouth close to her forehead, believing the vibrations from his voice would help her distinguish speech more clearly.

Although he married a deaf woman, a former speech pupil, Mabel Hubbard, Bell strongly opposed intermarriage among congenitally deaf people. Bell feared "contamination" of the human race by the propagation of deaf people even though most deaf people statistically are born to hearing parents.

Bell applied his study of eugenics to his goal of preventing the creation of a deaf race and presented his paper Memoir Upon the Formation of a Deaf Variety of the Human Race to the National Academy of Sciences in 1883.4

Bell stated, "Those who believe as I do, that the production of a defective race of human beings would be a great calamity to the world, will examine carefully the causes that will lead to the intermarriage of the deaf with the object of applying a remedy."

In this paper, he proposed to reduce the number of the deaf by discouraging deaf-mute to deaf-mute marriages, advocating speech reading and articulation training for an oral-only method of education, removing the use of deaf teachers and sign language from the classroom.

Suggestions were made to enact legislation to prevent the intermarriage of deaf-mute people or forbidding marriage between families that have more than one deaf-mute member. His preventative strategies for deaf marriage included removing barriers to communication and interaction with the hearing world.

I feel like Saturnians often have a tendency to subconsciously make things harder for themselves and for others. Getting things easy is not Saturn's style. And this can manifest in sooooo many different ways. Bell grew up with a father who taught deaf people/children, his mother was deaf, he married a deaf woman YET he believed that they did not deserve to have separate schools that used communication tools specifically designed for them to make their lives easier. He spent his entire life working with deaf people but still somehow did not want things to be easier for them???

Steve Jobs, UBP moon

He had a pretty stellar reputation for being a major asshole. He was an extremely difficult person to work with and often terrorised his employees and was a toxic vile asshole to the women he dated.

Jobs was given up for adoption by his parents and later in life, he abandoned his girlfriend and baby after he got her pregnant.

His daughter Lisa later said that her mother felt uncomfortable leaving her with Steve alone after an incident in which he questioned and teased the then-nine-year-old Brennan-Jobs about her sexual attractions and proclivities.

Once, as Jobs groped his wife and pretended to be having sex with her, he demanded that Lisa stay in the room, calling it a "family moment."

It is well known that Steve Jobs was really good at conceptualizing things and coming up with ideas (touch screen phones, macbooks, iMacs etc) but he lacked the technical expertise to build anything. His partner, Steve Wozniak was the actual brains behind all of the creations to put it simply.

Early in his career, Jobs worked for the game developing company Atari who promised him a bonus of $5000 for developing a game called Breakout. Jobs did not have the know-how to execute this, so he made his friend Wozniak who worked at a different company stay up all night for 4 nights to design this whole ass game. He gave him $350 for it and told him he was giving him half of what the company paid him. Wozniak only found out much later that Steve basically stole his ideas, used him AND gave him a paltry sum as compensation.

Before Apple went public, Jobs refused to give any major shares to the many many developers and engineers who played a crucial role in pioneering the company. Wozniak gave those employees HIS shares so that they could make a profit when the company went public.

I'm not going to detail all the ways he tormented his employees and staff. You can google it.

Eventually, Saturn's karma started kicking in and Jobs was fired from the company he founded and for 10 years, he had to stay away from Apple. This experience humbled him a bit.

Apple really suffered in his absence and they brough him back in 1997 and we all know the kind of groundbreaking work he did in the next decade there. (hint: iphones, ipods etc)

In 2011, he found out he had terminal pancreatic cancer and resigned from his position and died 6 weeks later.

He refused to get surgery and chemo and chose "alternate treatments" until his disease had progressed so far that, there was no saving him.

He would eat a single thing and only that for weeks. Like apples. He'd eat only apples for three weeks. He was convinced that made him superior to everyone else and that it made him have no body odour, so he never showered either. This made it really hard for others to be around him.

Now back to his daughter, he was incredibly abusive to Lisa. She said she was forced to move home over 13 times before age seven as her mother struggled to pay the bills through a series of cleaning positions, while Jobs, then already a multi-millionaire, refused to help.

During one visit she innocently asked if she could be given his Porsche after learning the flashy vehicle had a scratch and needed to be replaced. His scowling response shocked Lisa, then aged seven.

“‘Absolutely not,’ he said in such a sour, biting way that I knew I’d made a mistake,” she remembers. “I understood that perhaps it wasn't true, the myth of the scratch: maybe he didn’t buy new ones. By that time I knew he was not generous with money, or food, or words; the idea of the Porsches had seemed like one glorious exception. I wished I could take it back. We pulled up to the house and he turned off the engine. Before I made a move to get out he turned to face me.

“‘You’re not getting anything,’” he said. “‘You understand? Nothing. You’re getting nothing.’ Did he mean about the car, something else, bigger? I didn’t know. His voice hurt—sharp, in my chest.” (an excerpt from her memoir 'Small Fry')

Saturn may delay punishment but it will punish and whether or not you learn from it, is up to you. Some individuals are not very malleable and they suffer the most. They make the same mistake over and over again and never learn. Steve died of any entirely preventable disease but he refused treatment. He was in excruciating pain towards his end and was completely bedridden. He expressed regret about not having gotten treatment sooner but :/

It's really scary how your karma catches up with you. Its the worst when it comes for you and leaves you with no time to remedy anything, so you just suffer agony knowing there is nothing you can do.

Woody Allen- Anuradha stellium (Sun, Mercury & Jupiter)

He molested his step daughter Dylan Farrow and is currently married to his former step daughter from the same marriage Soon Yi.

There has been a lot of misinformation regarding him molesting Dylan as a child even though the fact that he is literally married to one of his stepdaughters should be reason enough to suspect him

Allen had been in therapy for alleged inappropriate behavior toward Dylan with a child psychologist before the abuse allegation was presented to the authorities or made public. Mia Farrow had instructed her babysitters that Allen was never to be left alone with Dylan.

Allen refused to take a polygraph administered by the Connecticut state police. Instead, he took one from someone hired by his legal team. The Connecticut state police refused to accept the test as evidence. The state attorney, Frank Maco, says that Mia was never asked to take a lie-detector test during the investigation.

(Here is a link to the full article)

But again, Saturn's karmic lessons come through. Numerous actors have refused to work with Allen, he has been publicly condemned, lost all his reputation during #MeToo Actors such as Greta Gerwig, Colin Firth, and Mira Sorvino have recently apologized for accepting roles in Allen’s films, while many of his most avid fans have turned against him.

Johnny Cash, Rahu in UBP in 1h

Johnny was a drug addict and very abusive to his first wife. He creepily pursued June Carter while he was still married and despite her rejecting him MANY times, he did not give up. She was in a financially unfortunate position and he gave her the opportunity of touring with him, which she had to take up to make ends meet and finally in front of a live audience, he proposes marriage to her and basically forces her to say yes.

They remained married for 50 years and died within a year of each other so idk if they had a happy marriage or a troubled one but the Saturnian persistence was coming thru.

Cash's whole life is super Saturnian. His career came to a standstill in the 70s after a stellar decade long run in the 1960s, all throughout which he was abusing drugs.

In the early 1980s, Cash had eye surgery, broke several ribs, and damaged a kneecap, all on separate occasions, and again became addicted to pills. He was hospitalized in 1983 with internal bleeding that almost killed him. Upon regaining strength, he checked into the Betty Ford Clinic and remained clean until his death.

In 1994, after a looooong period of zero hits and chart play. He collabed with Rick Rubin (the GOAT) and then released a number of successful albums until he passed away in 2003 and from 1997 onwards he had been struggling with autonomic neuropathy and was frequently hospitalized.

Its interesting to me how between 1954 to 1973, Cash was undergoing his Saturn mahadasha and this period brought him enormous success and also made him completely addicted to substances. In 1965, he started a forest fire that burned off 500 acres of forest land and killed 49 of the refuge's 53 endangered condors. When confronted about it, he said "I don't care about your damn yellow buzzards".

From 1973-1990, he was undergoing his Mercury dasha, and this was a very low period in his career as he suffered major setbacks.

As he's sobering up at the Carter's family ranch, he's walking along a path. One of their ostriches is standing in the path. Well Cash thinks to himself "Hell if I'm moving" and tries to move it, so the bird starts trying to headbutt/peck at him, so he swings a punch at the bird, it responds by splitting his goddamn abdomen open with it's talon, from top to bottom. (he said the only thing that stopped the talon was it got stuck on his leather belt and couldn't go further). So he's laying on the ground, and grabs a branch (or an old fence post, can't remember) and starts beating it from the ground until it runs away.

Its interesting how his major highs in life were during his Saturn MD (He has Saturn in Uttarashada in 11h) and his biggest blows came during his Mercury MD (he does have Mercury in Shatabhisha in 12h 😬).

Mercury is not an inherently difficult dasha the way Saturn is. But what we sow, we shall reap. Saturn gives you 19 years to get your shit together and if you don't really learn during this period, it gets on your ass long after that. Jennie from Blackpink ended her Saturn MD in 2019 and some of her career's biggest moments have come since then but so have the controversies (she's currently in her Mercury MD) and it's as though the lingering after effects of the Saturn dasha really dictates how we experience our Mercury dasha.

Winston Churchill, Anuradha Sun

In 1943 in Bengal, over 3 million people died due to starvation and Churchill was directly responsible for this.

Churchill deliberately ordered the diversion of food from starving Indian civilians to well-supplied British soldiers and even to top up European stockpiles, meant for yet-to-be-liberated Greeks and Yugoslavs (all of this happened during WW2 for context)

He basically said, this is none of my business. Even though millions of Indian soldiers fought for the British during WW2 and were British subjects until India gained independence in 1947. Also btw India was the biggest contributor to the Empire's GDP. they looted and plundered us and left us to starve, basically.

In the book, Churchill’s Secret War: The British Empire and the Ravaging of India during World War II, written by Madhusree Mukerjee, Churchill was quoted as blaming the famine on the fact Indians were “breeding like rabbits”, and asking how, if the shortages were so bad, Mahatma Gandhi was still alive. 😡🤬😠he was a racist imperialist pig to say the least.

Some people are Churchill defenders and genuinely believe that the Bengal famine was a necessary sacrifice to win the war, and that those who critiqued him were unfair and had little insight about WWII. Aka: the colonized are expendable in a war between essentially imperialist, genocidal and fascist states. And they can kiss my ass.

To Indians, Churchill is a Hitler-like figure and rightfully so.

"I do not agree that the dog in a manger has the final right to the manger even though he may have lain there for a very long time. I do not admit that right. I do not admit for instance, that a great wrong has been done to the Red Indians of America or the black people of Australia. I do not admit that a wrong has been done to these people by the fact that a stronger race, a higher-grade race, a more worldly wise race to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."

Winston Churchill to Peel commission in 1937.

Here is a thread that elaborates the many fcked up things he did.

When I talk about how cruel, brutal and callous Saturnian men can be, this is what I mean. Saturn restricts, limits and binds. This can easily mean Saturnians subject themselves and others to unnecessary rules, restrictions and limits.

Steve Jobs thought he was superior to others bc he only ate one type of food for weeks and months. Just because someone has discipline, does not automatically mean its good to have it. Free range parents can suck because they dont protect you or shelter you but disciplinarian parents also suck. Both Jupiter and Saturn struggle to learn "balance".

An unevolved Saturnian will be stingy af, very partial, biased and ill mannered. They act like cave men.

Churchill struggled with his mental health his whole life. He referred to it his “black dog:” fits of melancholia that followed Churchill throughout his life and often left him bedridden, suicidal and unshakably depressed for months at a time. It may sound cruel to say poor mental health is "karma" for his actions. (He also suffered 7 strokes and the final one, killed him). But the ways in which we are punished are often not materially obvious??? We may see terrible people thrive but often they are really suffering on the inside. Saturn often punishes by depriving you of peace of mind :/

Thomas Alva Edison, Anuradha Rising

In 1884, Nikola Tesla moved to New York City to meet Edison, who was famous for his low-voltage, direct-current electricity. Tesla believed the higher-voltage alternating current electricity was superior and suggested creating an AC-powered motor, but Edison claimed it was too dangerous. Instead, Edison promised the recent immigrant $50,000 (over $1 million today) if he could improve upon his DC generators, or “dynamos.”

After toiling for several months and making significant advances, he returned for his reward, only for Edison to say, “When you become a full-fledged American, you will appreciate an American joke.” Tesla quit—but the bullying didn’t stop there.

George Westinghouse had purchased Tesla’s patents and became the pioneering force behind AC power and its widespread implementation. Edison, who was ideologically and financially invested in his own DC power, began a publicity campaign against AC power. The campaign was ruthless; he wanted to prove that the high voltage of AC power was too dangerous for public use, so he and his cohorts began publicly electrocuting animals—stray dogs and cats, cattle and horses, and even, notoriously, “Topsy” the elephant. (you can hate me for pointing out how unevolved Saturnians abuse animals all you want but it will not stop it from being true<333)

The story gets worse. Edison was asked whether electrocution was a humane method of execution. In reply, he claimed that with Westinghouse’s AC power, it was indeed a humane and reliable execution. Westinghouse of course tried to prevent such an association, but Harold Brown, one of Edison’s employees, was hired by the state of New York to build the first electric chair. Obviously, he used AC power.

The execution—the first use of the electric chair—took place on August 6, 1890. AC power proved neither reliable nor humane. The first, 17-second-long charge failed to kill the man, an alleged axe murderer; after waiting for the generator to recharge and amping up the voltage, the next charge at last brought an end to the horrible, 8-minute long ordeal. Westinghouse, disgusted, reportedly said, “They would have done better with an axe.”

For his last two years, a series of ailments caused his health to decline even more until he lapsed into a coma and died at the age of 84.

Bo Burnham, Venus/Jupiter/Ketu in Pushya and Anuradha Rising

He does have a reputation for being a dick but I wanted to mention him because I think his sense of humour is VERY Saturnian. He has this tendency to humble his audience and its super Saturncoded to me. Like his whole shtick is serving you with a reality check in a slightly condescending way which is extremely Saturnian.

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He often makes "ironically" misogynistic jokes or whatever and its laced with that Saturnian bitterness except he's slightly self aware I guess.

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Aziz Ansari, Venus & Mars in UBP and Jupiter in Anuradha

Tbh other than the fact that his stand up comedy routines are hella lame, I dont really have much dirt on him.

However, he did sexually assault a woman in 2018 and nobody has heard much from him since tbh. I guess its an example of "instant karma".

Mads Mikkelsen, Anuradha Sun conjunct Ketu

Mads aka the man who made a career out of playing the bad guy

This isn't about Mads but about his most well known role, playing Hannibal Lecter.

Hannibal imo is very very Saturncoded

He is highly intelligent and cultured, with refined tastes and impeccable manners. He is deeply offended by rudeness, and often kills people who exhibit bad manners; according to the novel Hannibal, he "prefers to eat the rude". Hopkins described Lecter as the "Robin Hood of killers", who kills "the terminally rude".

Saturnians are either extremely refined or very unkempt. There is no in-between. You can always tell when someone has an imbalanced Saturn influence based on how disorderly, messy and chaotic they are.

In the novel Red Dragon, the protagonist, Will Graham, says that psychologists refer to Lecter as a sociopath "because they don't know what else to call him". Graham says "he has no remorse or guilt at all", and tortured animals as a child, (👀) but he does not exhibit any of the other criteria traditionally associated with sociopathy. Asked how he himself would describe Lecter, Graham responded, "he's a monster. I think of him as one of those pitiful things that are born in hospitals from time to time. They feed it, and keep it warm, but they don't put it on the machines and it dies. Lecter is the same way in his head, but he looks normal and nobody could tell."

Hannibal embodies the disciplined, orderly conduct of an evolved Saturnian along with the cruelty and harshness of it.

Charlie Puth, Anuradha Sun & Mars

half of this guy's discography is about how he hates women from LA. He literally has one song called "Nothing But Trouble (Instagram Models)" and it's just about how instagram models make problems. He has another song called "L.A. Girls" about how women in LA are fungible. It's like yeah maybe instagram models do suck but no one made you date them???

These are lyrics from the song LA Girls:

"There was Nikki, Nicole, Tiffany, and Heather But there's only room for you in my world But you say that I changed like the east coast weather How the hell did I get caught up? Messin' with these LA girls"

When I tell you the Madonna-Whore complex runs DEEP with Saturnian men. They will fool around with you and think of YOU as "cheap" for doing so and fall for the girl who never gives it up. The double standards of Saturnians are 🤮🤢

They will get frisky and frivolous with you and judge you for it :/

Woody Harrelson, Pushya Sun, Anuradha Moon

When I think of unkempt Saturnians, I think Woody Harrelson lmao

While filming in London in 2002, Harrelson found himself at a bar when two women approached him. According to the actor, the women asked if he wanted to "take a walk on the wild side." To which Harrelson replied, "I guess I do." A third woman joined in the fun, and the foursome returned to Harrelson's accommodations and enjoyed what the outlet described as "whatever-happened-next." Unfortunately for the Rampart star, "a paparazzo was able to snap a photo that soon hit the tabloids." The worst part — his then-girlfriend and future-wife Laura Louie saw these photos in the press. This "led to a good bit of groveling on Harrelson's part," and the couple worked past the incident.

I think I have noticed about manyyyy Saturnian men is that they often have enabler wives who put up with their shit + encourage it. Steve Jobs' wife, Laurene Powell was like that. Steve was such a perfectionist that he did not even buy furniture for their house and yk what?? she was okay with that lol and they remained married until his death even though literally everybody who has ever known him describes him as an asshole.

Woody Allen's still married to Soon Yi who is also entirely defensive about him. Same goes for Harrelson's wife I guess. How on earth does someone work past a foursome??? wtf

"I used to go to bars and fight the guys I thought were bullies. I've got scars everywhere," he revealed to The Hollywood Reporter. His fighting ways continued even after becoming a famous actor. Like when he once punched a reporter and claimed he thought the photographer was a zombie.

Saturnians never beating the abusive rumours 😩

On a different note, I've noticed how many Saturnian musicians make sad boy music with a ✨spiritual essence ✨

Sufjan Stevens is a UBP Moon

This is from a 2015 interview:

"I still describe myself as a Christian, and my love of God and my relationship with God is fundamental, but its manifestations in my life and the practices of it are constantly changing. I find incredible freedom in my faith. Yes, the kingdom of Christianity and the Church has been one of the most destructive forces in history, and there are levels of bastardization of religious beliefs. But the unique thing about Christianity is that it is so amorphous and not reductive to culture or place or anything. It's extremely malleable."

Tamino, UBP Moon

He said in an interview:

"We like to look at religious texts from all over the world, [and] they always share a lot of similarities. That's not because they necessarily influenced each other, it's more that our inherent experience as humans comes out through storytelling. It's awesome. So that's something that's really interesting: the story that we need to tell. And the stories that we tell will always survive longest. I think it sort of gives them a higher truth, a metaphysical truth, which makes religion quite beautiful to me. You don't have to necessarily believe in every little thing that's described in a book. I'm not a practicing believer—not in the classical sense. But I do have faith. I think a lot of people have faith without realizing [it]. Even waking up and starting your day, we all have like these little acts of fate throughout our lives without even noticing."

Hozier- Anuradha Moon

Faith is a big theme in their work and their lives and I feel like they are some evolved Saturnian men who have embraced the stoic spirituality of Saturn and poured it into their creativity.

In one interview, Hozier described Quakerism as a doctrine which taught him during childhood “to look for the God in each person” and “the spark of the divine that’s in every individual.” In particular, Hozier seeks this spark in his lover.

Its interesting to me how all 3 of them use religious metaphors often to speak of love because the ultimate form of love is devotion and Saturnians who have transcended the grips of limitations imposed by Saturn understand this more than anybody. They know what its like to love like their life depends on it.

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Arnold Schwarzenegger, Pushya Sun

Many Saturnians love to talk about working hard and kicking ass. Arnold is one of them, although I will say his preachiness comes from his Punarvasu stellium lmao

Arnold is a good example of a man who has worked very very hard and abided by every Saturnian principle to climb the ladder to the top. Yet he cheated on his wife with his housekeeper. He however did not deny paternity of the son he fathered with her. He has also expressed his regret about cheating and how he lost his marriage.

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Kim Kardashian, UBP Moon

She came under fire for her comments about "get your ass up and do the work" but honestly it's just Saturnian tough love

Kim is a good example of someone who has turned every single setback into a career opportunity. She is a true hustler. Obviously she's extremely privileged yada yada yada but she was Paris Hilton's assistant at one point and was at the bottom of the ladder. In 20 years she's built a fortune for herself and her family. Like, if it were Kourtney in Kim's place 🤡they wouldn't be where they are rn. Kim is a worker and its hard to deny that.

Rose- UBP Moon

In her interview with Vogue Australia, she said:

“I ended up fighting for my life, training for my life. Because I couldn’t accept the fact that I’d just be cut and sent back, so I had no time to slack off. I remember I took every minute and every second to work on my craft so that I [could] make it,”

“When I got [to Korea], I was like, ‘This is quite intense,’” she said of the early period of training. “I notice[d] that there [were] 12 other girls who had been training day and night for about five years. And I had just gotten there.” She feared that if she didn’t catch up to the other she would be cut and sent back to Australia, where she’d already told her school friends that she was dropping out to work on her music. "

“I [had] left and I didn’t want to fly back [to Australia] without having achieved anything,” she said of her worry at the time. “And I think it was a good drive. Just the fact that I had flown all the way from Australia gave me more strength [and] determination to strive.”

Hardworking Saturnians ✊🏼🙏🏼🧎‍♀️making the most of that Saturnian determination and reaping its rewards OOF

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