#LIKE OF ALL THE OBVIOUS WAYS HE COULD'VE FOUND OUT

[cherie-doll]

i hope the day is good for you 🫶🏻 (english is not my first language) can you please write a story with cod men, about what would they do when the reader doesnt make it home from the mission - like they are waiting at home for her but she's dead.

thx for submitting love <33

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Waited For You

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He didn't believe it at first, there was just no way... he immediately got to verifying all his sources, even went down to talk to the other soldiers who had been a part of your team

You were supposed to come home, he expected you to come back to him, safe and sound like always but instead of falling asleep and exhausted in his arms like you should've been by tonight, your corpse was out there somewhere missing his embrace

He thought of how he could've prevented this from happening, yes he still blamed himself for anything bad that happened to you despite it not being in his hands, maybe if he could've kept you from going, why did you even feel the need to continue doing this?

There was no one else he cared for as much as he did for you, which truly said a lot of your relationship, but since he met you he felt an overwhelming urge to show love like he'd never done before, nothing else on earth deserved this dedication like you did

He deteriorated rather quickly, the mornings became grim and he couldn't bear to see the sun setting without thinking of how much you loved letting the rays caress your arms and let your eyes take in that golden light, you looked so beautiful in those moments

Ghost

Since he met you, there was finally a stage in his life he could think of purely, sure the relationship wasn't perfect, but this was something he could be reminded of and he didn't have to fight to keep it hidden in the back of his mind, he let the memories emerge to the surface and ponder about them

It had been something pleasant but it had been ripped out of his hands far sooner than he would've wanted, his fantasy that had become a corrupted reality, it makes him want to die, badly, but he always found a way to survive the deadliest situations, somehow he always did; as if he was cursed with immortality

But this? He felt no desperation urging him to dig out of the hole he was sinking into, the walls closing in on him from all sides and he made no effort to push it away, it felt sort of relieving being cramped and paralyzed since he couldn't see the path ahead of him, with you it had become so obvious and clear what he wanted but now there was nothing worth moving towards

Did life always want something from him? Just when he thought he lost everything he could lose, there was always something else being pried out of him, it was painful because it was forcefully taken away just when he was getting attached, when there was no foreseeable evil trying to destroy him there was some good, and you had been the best unexpected thing in his life

Soap

You were like an illusion he had always dreamed of and finally were achieved, a life so dreamy and ideal he thought would never be in his reach, but he had been permitted to have it for a short while with you

Within your time together a love so beautiful had bloomed, it was sweet how sublime it had felt, you had been youthful, still beaming with so much life within you but tragically cut short, those years had gone and went unused

He couldn't find the sense within him to comprehend why it had to be you, your death had been like a cold slap to the face, he had once again become aware of the disheartening reality he lived in, that nothing was secure nor did everything stay the same forever

Well, he knew about the forever part, but did it have to come so soon? He had to gather the strength within him to continue forward and he wasn't even sure of that, there was still so much left unsaid, so much still to be done, and how frustrated he was that it would all be forgotten and left unfulfilled

A sadness like no other would coat his existence, swallow him up and change him beyond recognition, his mind would be invaded by memories of you that will replay until they burned and ceased to exist... the day he ceased to exist

Gaz

All those days that he had spent with you had been the most fulfilling days he had ever experienced, he could remember the warmth of your hand, the weight of your body asleep next to him on the mattress, the security knowing you valued his affection and returned it

He truly felt the happiest with you and he wished to be encased in that happiness forever, but how naive it was of him to think it was possible for even a second, life was always moving and throwing hurdles at us that seem impossible to avoid, it's only a matter of time misfortunes come to us all

By simply contemplating and reminiscing, he felt grief beyond help and any consolation couldn't do much for him, wistful memories came to him and he could not sleep at night, all they did was leave a dark imprint on his mind

His caring nature did not change, he thought with time he could heal and learn to move on, but some things never change, and a sore spot still brings pain when pressed too hard, he would mull over this no matter how painful it was to do so

How he misses to hold you in this moment and kiss you

Roach

The news of your death came like a hard blow to his face, and he was left clutching his chest, eyes watering with tears as he desperately tried to cling onto some comforting memory in his mind

Restlessness follows immediately, even at night sleep does not come to him no matter what he does, the memories you shared seemed to tear him apart rather than anything help him, but he didn't want to forget you either

He knew he couldn't get you back and he had lost you forever in this life, panting and gasping he would awaken from his nightmares, the little sleep he got would do nothing to comfort him, and you weren't there to comfort him, to silently hold nor ease with your voice in his ear

His mind wanted to deceive his heart, make him believe you were somewhere far away but still thinking of him, that he could close his eyes and imaging resting his head on your shoulders, basking in serenity as he lost himself in the waves that lulled him

Alejandro

He was overtaken by bitterness and anger, his better judgement was clouded far beyond reason at the most valuable treasure in his life forever gone, the feeling of longing would become a hole he'd spend his days trying to fill with wrongful acts

All he wanted and needed was your touch to remind him reality was there and not as cruel as he thought, you had still met and loved in your time and nothing could take away what had already been done, he could live blissfully in life knowing you had known each other

But could he be satisfied with that? He could strongly feel the ties that bound you together still tug at his heart, and every year he remembered you, would set an altar for you and fill it with what were your favorite foods and things

He would stare at your imagine, remembering how he once had kissed those lips, stared into your sparkling eyes that watched him endearingly, your face he had held within his hands...

He could never have that back

Rudy

He missed delicately tracing your face, his fingertip raising softly over every curve and line, your silhouette against the wall when you rose that morning, early so you could still say your goodbyes to him and tell him to expect you back very soon, this one wouldn't be too long you said

You had left him a content man, he'd sit around the house and wait, he would take it easy these days because you'd be back soon, but he wasn't ready to withstand the tumult he'd find himself in

His heart had become haggard in the days following your death, he had absorbed every bit of warmth and clung to the last signs that you had left behind, he wished he had been there, to ease your last painful moments before death, how much did that train of thought torment him, day and night it ran through his mind

In sleep, he dreamt of terrible ways you had encountered death, surely, you didn't have a peaceful one, you were healthy and fit to make it, something terrible must have happened but no matter how much he wished to know the cause of your death it wasn't given, most likely for the best to remain unknown

Phillip Graves

He often boasted of having you in his life, it was such a fortunate occurrence when you met that he didn't think it was entirely a coincidence, he loved doting on you and hold you in his arms knowing you were there for him

You had already confirmed the date of your return, but that day came and passed and there was no sign of you, worse yet no message or word had been heard on your part, it was he who had to dig and find out that you had been KIA

It felt like a strong blow to his chest to have you ripped away from him, he knew the harsh reality and danger he was constantly under, he just never imagined it would get to you one day

You shouldn't have paid for his sins or errors, he wished you had stayed out of the battle, but you had your own life to carve out and ultimately it had been your decision

Much time would have to pass before he'd be able to say your name, for the longest time he'd whisper it, as if afraid it'd shatter his reality even more, staying in the air reminding him of what he lost

Makarov

You were forever gone from his grasp, how was he to cope with that? The fire that had warmed his insides, making every act of his be out of love for you suddenly halted, reduced to nothing but ashes and now he was left to sweep the heaps of it

The emptiness growing and knowing there wasn't a piece to fit or make him whole again like you, you were a unique piece, the edges weren't cut with delicacy that an experienced hand could replicate, there wasn't a mold to follow to shape something else into you

You sprung out of chaos and spontaneity with ease, there was a lightheartedness you brought out in him that brought out the best in him, all of it offered to you who didn't greedily take but lovingly returned

He didn't want to believe someone like you could just be taken away from him and have nothing done about it, just when he thought he could be tender he'd return to his old ways, the resentment stronger than ever and tied to his heart, obscuring and consuming him

Keegan

How despairing did this turn out for him, never had he imagined he'd lose you, all that time he had spent training with you, preparing for when the worst could happen and each time you had managed to slip away, always

Except this time you weren't fast enough, he knew those shoulders held up a levelheaded person, who confidently calculated their every move, it was unfair you had been taken

His brows are now furrowed, thinking this just has to be some sort of protocol you're following, faking a death isn't all that uncommon, maybe you were still alive out there, hiding away somewhere for your safety, each day he held the pitiful hope that you'd come back to him, then he'd nurse your injuries and help you stand back up

But moons waxed and waned and you didn't appear, and he couldn't hold the fragments of you close to his heart if you wouldn't be around to reignite them and make them come true again

His palm that had curled, clutching the remnants loosed and he had to give up that foolish dream and accept reality as it was being presented

König

Was it cruel if he wished it was you who had received the news instead of him? He thought it would have been that way, he often joked about the benefits you'd get when he passed, it wasn't supposed to be you to leave earlier than him

Relaxed he was sitting in the armchair until he received the terrible news, his breaths became desperate as he tried to get air into his lungs, he wanted to march down there to the field himself to collect you, to not believe it just yet

Maybe you'd be down there, hiding away in some corner like the sly fox you were and say you had managed to dodge the bullet this time

But he was disappointed with the outcome of things, he hated it when things didn't follow the path he set for them but no one could have controlled the outcome of this course, it had left a profound wound in his heart he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal from

You had parted without saying your goodbyes and now he wouldn't be able to live with that, to live longer still with you in the back of his mind

Horangi

He hated anything that brought the slightest trace of despair, and he dealt horribly with it, he ran on pure serendipity but now he couldn't count on that, was it by being at the wrong place and time you had been one of the lives lost, the most important one to him

He felt the urge to go back to his old ways of numbing out the pain, but he pushed that temptation away, it would only drain his money and everything he had worked for go to waste, he knew you wouldn't have wanted that for him and right now he just wished to keep the traces of you very much alive and present

He wanted to go about his days as if you were still there, the flower you planted, he tried to keep it alive and water it, the way you left your stuff around the house, that way it was easier to transport himself to a time when you were there with him, still at home

The people of the past are hard to forget but he didn't mind, he faced the situation with more determination than he himself expected, he was surprised at the resolve he had come up with

He had loved without regret, and with every passing day he'd be closer to reuniting with you again

Nikto

The only sound occupying the complete silence is the static in his mind, he's just numb, doesn't know what to do, what he should do with whatever emotions he's trying to detect, he must feel something

He was just delivered the worst news of his life, he should be breaking down and crying but he can barely even process the fact that you really are gone, he looses his train of thought every five seconds and can only stare forward as if in a trance he's unable to escape out of

He feels the long seconds drag by but he can't get up from his fixed spot on the chair, it's like a knife has been plunged into his side and pulled out, leaving the gaping wound pulsating softly, but he can barely hear his flesh scream out in pain, he can only feel the blood oozing out, staining his clothes and falling to the floor in droplets as he actively ignores it

He is hurt but can only clutch at it, he can't get up, feels far too comfortable sitting on this kitchen chair staring forward to the wall, elbows resting on his knees

[howtotrainyouragents]

Anyway, finally catching up on ml s5, and

I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE THIS IS HOW ADRIEN FINDS OUT MARINETTE WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM

[jjkilll]

-——-— ✫ FALSE GOD | JJK ✫ —-———-

— pairing | bestfriend/fuckbuddy jk x y/n

— summary | After a date, a very jealous Jungkook wants to remind you that there is no love like his.

—  warning | smut, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (eeeekkkk)

— word count | 1.7K

— song | False God - Taylor Swift

You shuffle into your shared apartment, shedding yourself your coat and shoes. Jungkook sat on the couch watching a movie, his arms folded.

You and Jungkook started fucking around after one night of drunken sex. When you needed him he came running. No distance or circumstance could stop him from getting to you. When you landed on the friends-with-benefits thing, Jungkook stopped bringing girls home. He was usually the type to bring a girl home whenever he went out with his friends, but it's been a ghost town since. You figured it was just out of respect for your newfound relationship. You never got jealous... well you never got jealous and showed it. Jungkook went on plenty of dates, you were afraid just a little bit. What if this date went so well, that he forgot all about you. It wouldn’t be just the sex you'd miss, It'd be the fact that, whenever you called the chances of him dropping everything to get to you would drop to zero. You loved him; he was your best friend and you'd do anything to ensure he'd stay.

But, when Jungkook reached his fourth date with Miyeon, you figured it was time to start dating around too. You and Jungkook weren't dating, that's something often had to remind yourself. Yeah, you slept together, a lot, but he wasn't your boyfriend. Just your best friend with whom you had casual sex with.

Mingyu was a friend of Jungkook's, he was nice and funny and had always taken an interest in you. So when he asked you to grab dinner, you figured it wouldn't be a big deal.

"How was it?" Jungkook asked arms still folded, his eyes never leaving the screen. He tried to not make it obvious when he was jealous but it never worked. You always saw right through him. He was pissed, maybe because it was Mingyu, or maybe it was the thought that he had to share you. You weren't sure, but you weren't going to ask.

"Great actually. We went to that fancy Italian place downtown." You explain. Truly the date went well, Mingyu was chatting you up and making you laugh. He talked about his job and asked about yours. He asked how you met Jungkook and you explained that you two had been friends since your junior year of high school. After talking about Jungkook, he never left your mind. You found your mind drifting wondering if he might've been bored at home without you, or even worse fucking Miyeon. You were snapped back into reality when Mingyu complimented you. You felt bad, a hot guy was sitting right in front of you and all you could think about was if your best friend was fucking someone else.

He hums, "Good," was all he said. Man, he sucked at hiding his jealousy. You flopped down beside him. "You look pretty." He said glancing over at you. He always thought you were beautiful, regardless of the circumstance. You could've just rolled out of bed hung over and he'd still think you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. "Thank you." You replied sweetly. "Did he tell you?" He asked sighing. "Tell me what?" You asked curiously. "That you look pretty." He responded, arms still crossed eyes locked on the screen. He wasn't even paying attention the the film, quite frankly he wasn't even interested. He only turned in on and skipped through once he realized you were on your way home. He had been sitting in silence waiting on you anxiously. Hoping and Praying Mingyu wouldn't follow behind. He had the biggest sigh of relief when it was just you.

"Yeah, he said it a lot actually. I felt like I wasn't complimenting him enough," you chuckle. "So, are you going to go out with him again?" He asked this time turning his head to look at you. You had been looking at him the whole time, watching him struggle to control his face when you even mentioned Mingyu. "Uh, he didn't ask me out again, at least not in person but I'm hoping he'll text me." He scoffed.

"What?" You asked, you knew what was wrong, you just wanted to hear him say it. "Nothing." He said not wanting to start anything. He knew that you weren't his girlfriend. "Jungkook, don't lie to me please." He huffed. "It's just... Why him?" You're taken aback, he's really mad. The thought of Mingyu touching you the way he touched you made him want to wring his neck.

"He's nice and sweet, you know this." You respond simply. "So am I." He mutters under his breath. "What?" you asked playing dumb. You heard him, you needed to know if he wants you as bad as you want him. "I said, so am I. What makes me different than him." He looks you in the eyes, no trace of a joke. "You're dating Miyeon, I don't see why me dating Mingyu is such a big deal." You say confused. He chose to go out with her, why does it matter if you do it.

He pauses the movie before he continues, "I only went out with her so I could stop thinking about you! You fucking consume my thoughts! Every time you're not around me I wonder what you're doing, who you're talking to, what you ate, who's looking at you... who's touching you. I shouldn't feel that way about you but I do. So yeah, you fucking one of my friends doesn't excite me. I'm sorry," He says angrily. He's now looking away from you. His hands balled into a fist. You're sure if Mingyu was here, he'd probably deck him in the face. You don't like how angry is he, his neck is turning red and his ears might as have had steam blowing out of them. "I'm glad you had fun, I just wish that it was with me." He breathes out.

You lift your hand to his chin and turn his face to you. His eyes are dark but soften when they meet yours. He examines your face, you're not upset with him and he was relieved. "Tell me what you really need to stay, baby." You say softly. He sighs, his neck cooling down and he takes a deep breath before speaking, "I like you y/n. I have since the day we met, and I was fine with being your friend because I'd rather have some of you than none. I can't sit back and watch you fall for someone else. That shit might kill me. That shit will kill me." He spoke, his eyes locked in yours.

You lean in, "I'd rather die than live without you," you whisper. "So have me. All of me, because I want all of you." His lips crash onto yours, and he kisses you like you are going to disappear into thin air.

He kisses you and you fall back onto the couch. You're so small under him. Sometimes he'd be afraid that he might break you. Your kisses were so messy and deep, that your hips bucked up grinding against him. He moans into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, kissing your neck. He grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head then kisses down your tummy. His soft lips against your skin made you lose it. He unbuttoned your pants slipping his hand in rubbing circles on your clit. You moan and he silences you with a kiss. You grab his face with both of his hands. He plunges to fingers into your dripping cunt. You gasp against his lip letting his fingers stretch you out. "Fuck Jungkook please." You moan against his lips. "Tell me what you need baby." He says kissing your neck again, still fucking you with his long fingers. "Your mouth, please I need your mouth, Kook." You feel him grin against the softest part of your neck.

He sits up yanking your pants off of you. "These panties are so cute." He snaps the band against your skin making you whine. "Oh, I know baby. How bad do you need me?" He asks teasing you playfully. "Please Kook, I need you so badly, I need your tongue on me. Please please I'll do anything." He loved to hear you beg for him. He pulls your panties off of you and settles between your thighs. He lifts your legs over your shoulders and kisses the inside of your thighs. "You smell so good, baby. I know you taste even better." He speaks before licking a long stripe up your folds. You moan pornographically. His tongue swirls around your clit driving you batshit crazy.

Jungkook's tongue was crazy, you thank every girl before you for teaching him all he knows because you've never had head like his. His fingers enter you once again, the sensation of his tongue and fingers has you about to fall apart. "Y-yes oh my fucking god, keep doing that." He hums against you. You run your hands through his hair. Your eyes roll back and before you know it you're coming and shaking. You struggle to keep your legs open but Jungkook holds you still. He continues fucking into you and quickens his pace curling his fingers.

You've barely had time to recoup before you feel like you're coming again. "Jungkook please fuck. I can't- I-" You struggle to breathe before your vision goes blurry and you're coming again. You squirt all over his face and fingers. He pulls his fingers out of you and sits back up kissing you. He slaps your pussy and you moan into the kiss. "Shit, that was so hot, I didn't know you could squirt." He chuckles. "Fuck me neither." He pecks your lips once more before sitting up completely. "Let's go get you in the shower baby." He lends you his hand helping you stand. "Wait, Jungkook you didn't come." His eyes widen a little. "Oh uhh" He looks away nervously. "I- I did." He sniffs and looks back at you. He looks down at his sweats noticing a wet spot. "That's so hot." You pull him closer. "It's a little embarrassing."

"You came in your pants just from eating me out. That's really fucking hot Jungkook. I turn you on that much huh?" You tease. "Stop coming in my pants twice is crazy." You laugh as he softly pushes you away. "Then how about... In the shower, you come in me." You say with a playful smile biting your lip teasingly. "Don't threaten me with a good time, baby." He lifts you carrying you to the bathroom.

Finally, you got him after pinning over him for so long. Jungkook is finally yours, and you are his.

✫ -----------------------✫

a/n: Something a little fun, I love this song and had the idea of doing something with Taylor's music like I did with Mac. Thank you for reading if you did. If you like please like and repost :D thanks for the support. feedback and requests are appreciated just inbox me.

[eightball-chronicles]

Cheering Up Daisuke!

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

inspired by some absolutely delicious art by @al1en-invasi0n !!! check em out theyre so yummy :3

this MIGHT be my first time writing a tk fic (it is) so please don't bully me gangalang ,,, criticism is accepted just be nice to me [cry] also was writen on laptop so if the formats weird i apologize oops ...

lee!daisuke, ler!curly (NON SHIP !!!!!)

tw / cw : tks, starts off a wee bit sad, mention of jeopardy (j*mmy)

word count : 3151 under the cut

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

"Get it through your goddamn skull! That vent is strictly off limits! Fully fuckin' collapsed inside!" 

It was safe to say that Swansea was pissed. Daisuke, just released from the emergency foam he'd accidentally triggered, was awkwardly shuffling in place as he received yet another earful from his mentor. He messed up, sure, but really? His legs hurt already from being trapped not too long ago, he didn't want his head to follow suit.  

"You looking to get impaled, electrocuted, and cooked?!" Swansea's usual scowl was far more intense than usual; it was obvious to Curly, at least. As captain, he knew he'd have to intervene soon. Before he could, however, Daisuke spoke out: 

"Yeah, but like, you can't fit in there to fix it, right? So I can totally handle it." 

An uncomfortable silence filled the utility room. the three men stood in as the younger's words marinated. Swansea's eye twitched, clearly agitated. Curly really needed to say something - if he doesn't, who knows what Swansea would- 

"Captain." 

He stiffened slightly, worried what the older man was planning.  Swansea extended his hand out to the captain, demanding the axe. Curly saw Daisuke twiddling his fingers from the corner of his eye. Both their heads moved in unison with Swansea's arm. "Swansea," Curly started, handing the mechanic the axe, "this could've damaged the pods. You can't let something like this happen again." 

"Yeah, yeah...I got it." Swansea took the axe and swung it to rest on his shoulder. "Loud and clear." Slightly less tense than before, Curly placed his hand on his hip. "Keep the axe until you've cleaned this all up, yeah?" Swansea nodded with a huff, shifting his attention to his intern. Who was still fidgeting his hands. He looked up shyly as he spoke: "It's ok to be big, boss! "My gramps was super huge! And he lived until, like, 60!" 

Oh shit. 

Curly nervously looked to Swansea, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Daisuke, unaware of the weight of his words, smiled softly. Curly's attention shifted when he noticed Jimmy standing by the utility room door. He saw it as a reason to excuse himself from the heavy tension between the two men before him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Curly swiftly made his way towards his co-pilot. Daisuke, finally noticing Swansea's mood, silently cursed at his captain for abandoning him. And as soon as he did... 

Swansea went off. Yelling all sorts of nonsense about safety and protocol that Daisuke didn't care to hear for the thirteenth time that week. Instead, trying to focus his attention on the conversation taking place behind his mentor. Unfortunately, he found it to be quite difficult. Something about being sane, psych evals, Anya - what was that about cartoon horses? 

Just as the two men started to walk off, Swansea yelled louder, noticing his intern not listening. This brought a new wave of lecturing, and Daisuke was *not* having it. He didn't even care if Swansea said the winning lottery numbers, he just wanted him to shut up. Much to his dismay, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon... 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

Curly just sent Jimmy away after receiving a letter from the higherups. He reread its contents again, confirming what it said as if he had somehow misread the whole thing. Pony Express is shutting down? How could this happen? How will he tell the crew? Although instructed to not break the news until later, Curly was unsure if he could do that. Sighing heavily, the captain decided to get some fresh air. Well, not exactly - just whatever was breathable outside the weighty air of the cockpit. 

Ready to open the door at the end of the hallway, Curly was stopped by Swansea's presence behind it. He noticed something off immediately; his familiar frown replaced with a more concerned expression. Curly questioned it without a second thought, to which Swansea replied: "It's about Daisuke. After you left, I kind of went off. I...I think I went too hard on him. I've lectured him a bunch of times before, but he seemed more down this time." 

"Oh? How so?" Curly asked, putting a hand to his chin. Swansea shifted his weight before continuing: "After I run my mouth to him, he usually puts on this dramatic act and pouts when I dismiss him to go somewhere else. This time seemed different. I don't know how to explain it, but I think I hurt the kid." 

Swansea ended his explanation with a deep sigh as he lowered his head; he clearly felt guilty, and Curly understood as much. "Have you tried talking to him?" 

"I'm not too sure how thrilled he'd be to see me right now. I don't wanna scare the poor thing any more than I already have.  Plus, I don't know where he's at." 

Curly nodded before Swansea spoke up again. "Do you think you can talk to him?" The captain thought for a brief moment before reaching out to the worried man, patting his shoulder. "Of course I can. I'll go look for him and cheer him up, promise! You can go rest if you'd like, just make sure the foam in utility gets cleared up later, yeah?" 

To this, Swansea relaxed, wearing an uncommon smile. He nodded as he thanked Curly and walked off. The now determined captain headed off with a mission in mind; he was going to get Daisuke to smile, no matter the cost. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

If you disregard the sobs, the cargo room was quiet. The vast space left a slight echo on Daisuke's cries. He sat on the stairs, head between his knees and arms around his shins. His mind ran as fast as the ship he resided on. Why was Swansea so much angrier than usual? He was just trying to help; he was his intern after all. Then again, he practically called him fat and kinda sorta maybe implied he would die at 60... 

Damn, why would he say that? 

At this point, Daisuke's thoughts were racing a million miles a minute. The grip on his pants tightened as he cried. God, he's a screwup. No wonder his parents sent him away on this internship. He was annoying at home, and he's annoying in space. Will he ever learn to keep his mouth shut? He was so lost in his head that he didn't hear the door open behind him, or the footsteps that followed it. 

"Daisuke?" 

Said boy jumped a foot as he frantically wiped his eyes. He turned to face the source of the voice, trying to put on an act and forced a smile. But that smile shook, and Curly noticed. "Hey, captain! What's up?"  

"I should be asking you that. Are you ok?" 

Daisuke flinched slightly, his fake smile faltered as his shoulders began to tremble again. "I...I-I just...Swansea..." He didn't get anything else out after that, nothing that was intelligible, at least. He broke down again, turning around and placed his head back on his knees. Curly frowned as he made his way to Daisuke. He sat to his left on the stairs, rubbing the boy's back as he tried to soothe him. He let him cry it out until he was left only sniffling. Only then did he decide to speak out. "C'mon Daisuke, talk to me. Swansea found me earlier and said you were down. What's wrong?" 

He let out a small whimper upon hearing his mentor's name. Shakily, he started: "I-I don't know, I should've just listened to him. I just wanted to help! B-but I screwed up...I-I could've gotten myself seriously hurt, o-or killed, or broken the pods! Those are like, s-super important! Even I know that, yet still acted c-carelessly. N-not only that, I totally offended S-Swansea! H-he probably hates m-me, I c-can't believe I said that...I'm a t-total f-failure, I-" He was getting more panicked as he spoke, voice as shaky as ever. Curly cut him off as he stopped rubbing his back and pulled the boy to him by his waist. Daisuke yelped slightly at the sudden change of contact, yet melted into the side hug.  

"Kid," Curly started, "do you know why Swansea talked to me?" He felt a slight head shake on his shoulder. "Because he was worried for you, Daisuke. He told me he went too hard on you; that he feels bad he might have hurt you. I've never seen a more guilty face on him. And trust me when I say that means a lot. I've worked with him for I don't even know how long. He didn't mean to - Daisuke?" 

His speech was cut when he heard small chortles from the boy in his arm. Curly glanced down, seeing his shoulders tremble once more, differently this time. "Did I...say something funny?" he asked, a confused smile on his face. Daisuke shook his head again, a hand over his mouth. "Nohoho, it's just - your hahand-" Curly's gaze shifted to where his hand resided on the intern's side; it had started subconsciously rubbing him there as it was on Daisuke's back. "What about my hand? Are you hurt here? Oh no, I'm so sor-" 

"No! No, it's not that. I'm not hurt." 

"Oh? Then what is it?" 

Daisuke felt his face heat up. Thank god Curly couldn't see his face. He shifted slightly, unsure how to answer. "I just - it's not - you didn't - uh..." He peeked up to the captain as he trailed off, where he was met with a genuinely concerned face. "I'm afraid I don't follow, you know you can tell me anything, ri-" 

"It just tickled is all..." He mumbled. 

"Come again?" 

With a whine, Daisuke buried his face further into his hand, leaning more onto Curly's shoulder. No matter how many times asked, he didn't say more. Curly, in attempt to get his attention, pinched the boy where his hand still laid; on his waist. What he didn't expect, however, was for Daisuke to chirp at the touch. Now it was Cury's turn to get his mind thinking. Which didn't last long, however, as Daisuke's squeaky voice spoke up: 

"IT TICKLED ALRIGHT?!" 

If he wasn't blushing before, he sure was now. Curly saw the back of Daisuke's neck turn bright pink. Realization struck him shortly after, where a mischievous grin appeared. To confirm the suspicion, Curly pinched his side again, earning another bird-like sound. Oh, he struck gold. 

"Daisuke...are you-" 

"Shut up!" 

Daisuke's neck was now a deep red, his face buried deep in his palms while his fingers grabbed at his hair. His captain walked in on him crying, then he continued to cry *on* his captain, and now this?! Could this be any more embarrassing?! Well, yes, it could. Curly pinched his side for a fourth time. Daisuke whipped his head towards him only to be met with a grin covering half of the blonde's face. "Oh, Daisuke...that isn't a very nice way to speak to your captain now, is it?" 

Fuck. He's cooked. 

"W-w-wait, I-I didn't me-EEHEHEAA!" 

Daisuke was interrupted by his own squeal as Curly opted for pinching at his waist repeatedly rather than in intervals. He instinctively curled in on himself; arms wrapped around his torso while he brought his knees to his chest. While trying to twist away from the offending hand, Daisuke unintentionally leaned into Curly, who went in with his other hand to pinch at the giggling boy's other side. 

He squealed again from the tickly assault suddenly appearing elsewhere. Daisuke started jumping left and right, trying to escape from one hand only to be attacked by the other. Curly switched to poking before long, as this made the younger let out soft snorts as he weakly kicked his legs. The captain chuckled under Daisuke's evergrowing laughter, finding his reactions amusing. "I just cannot believe you told me to shut up. I'm wounded, Daisuke, and your words are the blade. How could you say such a thing?!"  

Said boy could only whine in response, "I dihihidn't mehehean toooooo! C'mohohon cahaptahahahain!"  

"Oh really? And how can I be sure of that, hm?" 

"Plehehehease! I prohohomise! I'm sohohorry, I'm sorryyyyy!" 

"Hmmmm...let me think." Curly pondered dramatically *way* longer than needed as he continued to poke at the intern's torso. Daisuke continued to squeak and giggle as he 'spaced out thinking.' Suddenly, the blonde perked up, "Alright, I've thought about it! I'm not stopping~" He then proceeded to move both his hands to Daisuke's hips, massaging the bone tenderly. 

The reaction was instant. The brunette shot his arms down, body spasming on impact. Grabbing Curly's wrists, Daisuke cackled loudly, unable to control the volume of his voice. His legs now fully kicking out as he spoke, "AAAAAHAHAHA! SHIHIHIT! GOHOD DAMN IT CUHUHURLY STAHAHAHAP!" To this, he gasped loudly; he would've acted out clutching his pearls had his hands not been occupied. "And just who do you think you are?! Talking to me like this...you're awfully ballsy for someone in your position." 

Daisuke could only answer in giggly babbles, unable to get any coherent words out as his hip bones got circles drilled into them. Curly only clicked his tongue in mock annoyance and grabbed Daisuke's left arm with his right, lifting it up. In once swift motion, he left the boy more vulnerable than ever. He gave him a break during this - he didn't want to kill the kid. Taking in big gulps of air, Daisuke had yet to notice the position of his arm. Only when he tried to rub his eyes did he glance up. He knew what was coming. 

Panicked, he locked eyes with his captor, smile wide and bright as his face matched his complimentary floral shirt. "C'mohohon captain! Y-you knohow I didn't mean ihit right? Rihight! S-so let's juhuhust forget this ever happehened!" Daisuke tried to reason with him, but Curly was having none of it. On the contrary, he was having too much fun. "Nuh uh, kid. You've gotta learn how to speak to your superiors. Tsk, young ones these days thinking they're all that. Even though you crumble the second I do...*this*." 

As he finished, his free hand quickly snaked behind Daisuke, going straight to his ribs. He pinched, squeezed, poked; anything to get the brunette to squeal. And squeal he did; his bubbly laughter echoed in the ample space of the cargo room. He tried to grab Curly's hand with his free one, but the captain kept dodging, scratching a new rib in the process. He chuckled as he felt weak tugging on the arm he held up. " 

"Plehehehease, I'm sohorry! I sweahahahar! I-I mehehean it!" 

"Oh, are you now? And how can I believe that?" 

Daisuke groaned between giggles before he spoke, "I prohohomise! I promihihise I'm sohorry!" 

Curly lifted an eyebrow at the intern, his bright smile showing off the gap between his front teeth. The sight brought his own smile to grow in size. "Okay, let's say I believe you then. You're forgiven, bud." 

"Thehen why aren't yohohou stohohohoping?!" 

He chuckled at the naivety shown before him, shifting so he faced the boy before he answered, "Did you forget why I came here in the first place?" Daisuke whined in response, brain short circuiting as he felt fingers drilling into his torso, letting out a scream at his uppermost rib was attacked. "Oh c'mohohohohOHAHAH -  CURLY! Quit ihihit! That tickles!" 

Curly shook his head slightly, seeing the intern's blush deepen upon saying the word. "Sorry, Daisuke. Swansea said you were being gloomy earlier. We can't have that now, can we?" Said boy threw his head back as Curly formed a vibrating claw against the space between his highest rib and armpit. He snorted loudly from the sensation, barely able to form coherent words. "OKAHAY, OKAY! I'LL CHEHEHEHER UHUP! PROMISE! I PROHOMIHIHISE!" Daisuke ended his plea with a wheeze, laughter getting more strained. Curly saw this as a sign to wrap things up, slowing his fingers until the tickling came to a full stop. He let go of the boy's hand, where it fell to his side as he curled into himself next to his captain.  

Curly once again rubbed the younger's back, hoping he didn't go too far as he giggled between gasps of air. Daisuke held his sides, still feeling the tingly sensation on his body. Once his breathing calmed down a bit, Curly decided to speak up, "Are you alright? I didn't do too much, right?" He received a head shake in return; the redness on the boy's neck showed he was too flustered to speak. 

"You really shouldn't be too hard on yourself, you know? Swansea cares for you. He doesn't show it much, but he really does. Sure, he gets mad sometimes, but that's just who he is. Like I said earlier, he's the one who came to me about you; he was worried sick!" Daisuke glanced up at Curly's speech, eyes widened slightly with curiosity. "To tell you the truth," the blonde continued, "his own kids moved out a while ago. I think he misses them; not like he'd ever admit that, though. I have a suspicion that you remind him of them. Gets his dad-gears turning. His fatherly instincts probably kicked in earlier when you set off the foam. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" 

Daisuke nodded his head, a tiny nervous smile on his face as he took in the confession. Did Swansea really feel that way? "Do you really think that's true?" Curly's gaze met his, flashing him a proud grin; "I know it's true! Don't tell him I said anything, though. He'd deny it to the moon and back." To this Daisuke breathed a sigh of relief, letting a small chuckle slip. He sat up from his ball-like position to fully face Curly, returning the smile. "Thanks, captain!" 

The captain felt his heart slightly melt at the sight of the joyous boy. Wrapping his arm around him for another side hug, rustling his hair with his other hand. "No worries! I'll always be here. As long as you keep that attitude at bay. Don't think I won't put you in check, young man." Curly poked his side as he finished, earning one last squeak from the previously giggly intern. Daisuke jumped out of the captain's arms before he could try anything again, dramatically taking a defensive stance. He winked in his silly pose. "No promises~" he sang as he walked backwards to the door. It automatically opened, causing him to turn around and jump slightly. Curly stifled a laugh as Daisuke turned around, face slightly dusted pink. He stormed off, grumbling as he left the cargo room for good. Curly giggled to himself, still sat on the stairs, reflecting on his crew and each of their colorful personalities. 

Yup, he was glad to be captain. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

hai guys ^-^ i hope yall enjoyed !!! i love daisuke sm hes my gf i love my gf ♡

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

[astolfofo]

…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.

hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.

tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.

Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind

also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.

There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.

The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.

Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.

You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.

But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.

You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.

And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.

After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.

You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.

The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.

To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.

And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.

You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.

-

out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.

It certainly wasn't you.

Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.

You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.

Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.

You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.

All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.

You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.

But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.

It drove you to madness.

If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.

From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.

You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.

There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.

They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.

"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"

It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.

He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.

"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."

You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.

You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.

Look at where it got you.

[melsimps]

Born To Be My Baby

FWB!dilf era!Peter Maximoff x fem!reader headcanons/blurb (kinda).

Tw: discussions of sex, childbirth, and pregnancy. (But not in graphic detail)

A/N: I had to write my own dilfsilver shit. Inspired largely by my oc x Canon fic with him.

We got something to believe in Even if we don't know where we stand

You and Peter were friends with benefits. And that was it. It was casual, fun. A way to de-stress without any strings.

And it was fun, too.

You'd mainly hook up after stressful missions or hard training sessions in the danger room.

And it meant nothing. Just some light fun between friends/coworkers.

That's all it was.

Until that one day.

However it went, you found out you were pregnant. Either a condom broke, or you forgot a pill, or your implant/IUD ran out, it doesn't matter.

What does matter is the fact that you're pregnant.

With Peter's kid.

So, after a doctor's appointment, and with a copy of the ultrasound in your pocket, you went and told him.

"I... are... are you shitting me-?" He asked, eyes wide, mouth agape.

...not the best reaction, I'll admit. But...

After some emotional conversation, it all culminates in...

"...hey," he whispered softly, on his knees as his hands settled on your (still incredibly flat/non visible) abdomen. "Hey in there, baby, I'm-"

"-Peter, what are you-?"

"Shhh-! Quiet, I'm having a conversation with my kid-!" He scoffed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And after that, he was right on board.

Project baby was a-go.

When you were reading pregnancy books, you'd chart out the rough size of the baby in fruit. And each week, he'd try and find one the right size. Just so he could visualise how big your kid is. Because hey, that's his little buddy in there.

You borrow a lot of his band shirts, especially when you get further on in your pregnancy.

But you're not, like...dating or anything. You're just two buds, having a baby together.

It's kind of hard, him having to be the rational one for once, but he's trying.

"...what's going on-?" He asked, slowly creeping into your classroom.

You were in tears, holding a book to your chest.

"They're just so mean to him..." you sniffled out, shaking your head.

He glanced at the cover, and...

"...Frankenstein?" Peter asked.

You nodded.

"...I could've parented him..."

All the while, y'all are still hooking up. Hormones are crazy, man. Especially later on in your pregnancy.

But it doesn't mean anything. Its just sex. Sex with your stupid hot baby daddy and his stupid hot vibrating dick.

Anyway, one night, the two of you were getting it on, riding him good and hard, when he felt a splash against his abdomen.

"Awe, babe, did you just-?"

"...that wasn't an orgasm..." you whispered, shaking your head.

He paled.

"It fuckin' what-?!"

...yep, he broke your water during sex. Pussy so good, it makes you accidentally induce labour.

He doesn't know which emergency bag to grab, so... he just dashes around campus and grabs all of them.

It's a long labour, with a lot of exhaustion and pain. A lot of emotions and yelling, and... crying.

But in the end?

A soft cry pierced the air as that flash of white faded over you, the pressure fading, the pain slowly alleviating.

"Is... is that-?"

"She's here..." Peter murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

And she was.

An itty bitty baby girl.

Luna.

As he holds that baby in his arms, he just... melts. He's crying and holding her so close to his chest, kissing the top of her little head while you sleep.

"Hey... hey, Luna..." Peter whispered softly, his voice shaking with emotion. "Oh my god, you're so small... I..."

He shook his head, tears pricking his dark eyes. God, he was a mess. It was stupidly early, and he was exhausted, and emotional, and-

"...what did I do to make me worthy of a baby as sweet as you and a woman as great as your mom, huh-?" He murmured, trying his hardest not to sob.

Meanwhile, Luna slept happily against his chest, gurgling as she snuggled close to her father.

As you guys adjust and recover together, getting used to having itty bitty Luna in your lives, Peter just... basically moves into the suite at the mansion with you.

I mean, you're raising a baby together. You've seen each other naked. It's not that weird.

Anyway.

He is so helpful during your healing, and is basically your rock during emotional moments (postpartum hormones are crazy, y'all).

He tries to grow out his facial hair.

Key word being tries.

"Babe..." you warned, grimacing slightly as his face nestled into your neck.

"Mmm... whaaaat-?" Peter asked back playfully, his stubble lightly scratching your skin.

"As much as I am loving the beard..." you purred playfully, cupping his cheek in a moment of domesticity in the kitchenette. "...I'm not a fan of the bristles pricking me during cuddle time..."

Reluctantly... shaves (after you promise to let him devour that pussy the second he can).

"Hey, you wanna get married-?" Peter asked one lazy Saturday afternoon as you snuggled into his chest, while Luna was settled in her crib for a nap.

...okay, so maybe y'all are more than just friends.

[folkwhoredoll]

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

[mydearzero]

Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?

I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!

now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡

Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.

Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.7K words

"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle. 

"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face. 

"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact. 

"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply. 

"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off. 

Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home. 

You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home. 

"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.   

You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed. 

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together. 

"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver." 

You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer? 

Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset. 

You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing. 

You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him. 

The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length. 

Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips. 

You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap. 

His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out. 

You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun. 

Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on. 

You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move. 

You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own. 

"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy. 

"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile. 

"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch. 

Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close. 

He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes. 

"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat. 

He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation. 

"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened. 

"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over. 

"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch. 

"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length. 

You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure. 

His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself." 

Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation. 

You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it. 

You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't. 

"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch. 

You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation. 

"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly. 

"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged. 

You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced. 

You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue. 

You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably. 

You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often. 

"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet. 

His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch. 

The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears. 

You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest. 

"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later. 

"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails. 

He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval. 

"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie. 

"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place. 

You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass. 

You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?" 

Spencer shook his head aggressively. 

"Words, baby." 

"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that. 

"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day. 

You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock. 

You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes. 

"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks. 

"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face. 

"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock. 

"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over. 

"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is. 

He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours. 

"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic. 

You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes. 

"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again. 

You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you. 

A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good. 

"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins. 

You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."

Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release. 

You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could." 

His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release. 

His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me." 

You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you. 

"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips. 

"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.

Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own. 

"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time. 

"Fuck, Spencer!" 

"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face. 

You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi." 

Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself." 

"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest. 

"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him. 

Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up. 

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face. 

"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."

[slackerlifewhere]

TCF is all about healing

- This is a review about the novel.

There's possible SPOILERS for readers who haven't finished reading the first volume.

___

When I first picked up the novel, I didn't have high expectations. After reading a lot of stories that end up disappointing me because of how the author eventually adds romance or harems into the story because their main character apparently needs a romantic relationship to feel good about themselves, I thought that Trash of the Count's Family will be the same thing further down the line.

But damn, did the author prove me wrong.

In the first few chapters, the novel's entire vibe was almost unnoticeable. Sure, there were some small details like him not being used to extravagant clothes or finding a simple meal delicious, but it wasn't obvious. It made me raise my eyebrow but I simply thought that he's a simple salaryman or something.

The first lines about him not having anyone who would miss him if he's gone in his previous world can be excused as him having no lingering attachments. And honestly, some transmigration/isekai stories do have their main characters having no attachments in their previous world. So it makes sense and it didn't alert me of what could've possibly happened to Cale, former Kim Rok Soo, for him to be so aloof and calm at the forced transmigration.

And then...he thought about poverty and pity when interacting with On and Hong. That was the first sign that he may have left a few lines out of his introduction.

It steadily got worse when he was talking to Choi Han about him being used to the cruelty of people like Venion. And then, at the first meeting with Raon, he appeared as if he understood the hopelessness of a child under an abusive adult's hand.

That's when I finally thought that TCF is a story about healing. And I was pleasantly surprised.

Sure, there's action, drama, and comedy, but TCF is mainly about moving on or healing from past hurts. There are moments when it can be called "cliche" but TCF is unique in the way it portrays Cale and his relationships. There's the found family trope that I love but what I love the most about the story is how these characters who have lost something or were about to lose something if OG Cale didn't make the deal with God of Death to have KRS replace him, is slowly understanding that they're not alone and that they can improve as a person if given the chance.

It's heart-warming and completely unexpected. I didn't read the first chapter expecting this fantasy-themed action novel to be about this.

OG Cale, Choi Han, Raon, On and Hong, Lock, Taylor and Cage, Alberu, the Dark Elves, Mary, and so many characters paved the way for me to completely fall in love with this novel.

If I sound like I'm exaggerating, then I don't care because this novel is just beautiful.

What completely blew my mind is the final reveal of Cale's past as Kim Rok Soo.

Listen, I have a love-hate relationship with KR survival novels involving monsters and dungeons and the freaking apocalypse. I love some of them and I can't stand the others. But I did not expect that Kim Rok Soo was in a world trying to survive from the effects of the apocalypse.

My first reaction was "What the actual fuck" because I 100% did not expect for the story to go that way. And my second thought was "So that's why!" Because it finally explains why he hates "papercuts"! This guy is so good at making big things about himself sound so small that it left me stunned when the big reveal happened!

I wanna slap him and hug him at the same time.

It explains why he's so good at being a commander. It explains why he's used to getting hurt or why he hates the thought of his friends and family dying with him as the survivor (I believe he has a survivor's guilt?). It explains everything.

He may be in a new world but he's still stuck in his past no matter how much he says about not thinking about what-ifs and his past. The time he spends in this new world is him slowly realizing that he's not alone and he doesn't have to be so scared.

And when I finally thought that I'm done being surprised, OG Cale appears and flips everything I knew about the character. They talk about how content they are with their new identities. They smile. They're happy. And that proves why this novel is about healing and not the simple transmigration novel full of action and comedy. Instead of getting angry at Kim Rok Soo, former Cale Henituse, for the deal with God of Death, he's just happy for the man and for himself. I just love how the author doesn't forget about Kim Rok Soo's sacrifices and rewards him with a happy life with his mother.

It's so hard not to finish the novel within weeks because of how good it is. It can be fast in some parts for the action, which makes sense since everything is happening at once. But there are also slow emotional moments that keep reminding me why I love this novel.

So yeah, this is my review about TCF. It's not a perfect novel but it's a good novel about healing and family. And I'm waiting for the second volume to be done so I can finally read the rest.

[blue-blue-blooms]

Eddie Munson Headcanons

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

A/N: I'm super depressed and this is my only form of comfort these days. So, here you go! If you have any requests, send them my way! Let's make the most of my depression and write these fics.

You're Steve's younger sister and in your senior year. You've definitely ridden on Steve's coat tails and gained popularity for being a Harrington. You're top of your class, a cheerleader, and friends with the 'popular kids'.

Admittedly, you were a bit self absorbed and consumed with the illusion of popularity. You didn't have real friends, no one that you could trust and be your true self around. You think getting dragged into finding Dustin's pet demogorgon was the best thing that could've happened to you. Besides the obvious trauma of everything that happened in '85, you found real friendship.

Robin and you became attached at the hip. You regularly hung out with Nancy. You were still popular but just severely humbled. '85 knocked your ego down a few pegs. You changed.

You changed so much that you didn't even ignore Mike, Dustin and Lucas when they first started highschool! I mean, even after you saw Dustin's Weird Al shirt. You looked out for all of them.

You'd known of Eddie. You'd seen him around at school. He was always really loud, abrasive, and kind of intimidating. He'd jump on top of lunch tables, going on spiels about 'forced conforming'. He was a little odd, a little rough around the corners, but you didn't know enough about him to form an opinion.

You officially met Eddie after Dustin, Mike, and Lucas joined the Hellfire club.

They were having one of their DnD meetings and needed a ride home. You were staying late for cheer practice so you agreed to drop them home.

You'd been waiting in the parking lot when they all came rushing out, 15 minute late.

"Hey, Dingus 1, 2, and 3! I've been waiting for 15 minutes!"

Eddie and everyone else in the Hellfire club (excluding the party) looked shocked when they saw you, to say the least.

"You know Y/N?" Eddie whispered to Dustin.

"Yeah, she's one of my best friends."

"You're friends with Y/N Harrington? Queen of Hawkins? Are you aware of the fact that we exist on the opposite spectrum of the stratosphere from her?" Gareth spoke incredulously, "Are you making this shit up?"

Before Dustin could respond, they all reached where Y/N was standing.

"Y/N! These are our friends from Hellfire! This is Gareth, this is Jeff, oh and this is Eddie! He's the president." Dustin excitedly spoke.

You gave them all a smile and a shy wave, "I've heard so much about you guys! These three were really excited when they found out about your DnD club."

"Do you play?" Gareth asked, immediately being smacked on the arm by Jeff who whispered: "I highly doubt that, idiot."

You smirked slyly and said: "Oh, I used to play with these guys all the time! We've been on many adventures. Fighting demogorgons, slaying a Mind Flayer, we've done it all." Of course, this wasn't a complete lie. You hadn't ever played a DnD game. Hell, you weren't even entirely sure what it was. But you had fought monsters with them. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas looked at you with incredulous looks and rolled their eyes, nodding along with your lie.

Of course, Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff didn't know the truth. They were pretty amazed that you even knew what DnD was.

After that first meeting, you'd smile and greet the Hellfire club whenever you saw them around school.

You'd also stand up for them if any of the jocks were messing with them.

Like the time Jason had shoved Gareth in the hallway and called him a 'freak', you'd immediately smacked the back of Jason's head and told him to 'fuck off'.

This is becoming more about the Hellfire club than Eddie so let's refocus.

You realized that you and Eddie were in some of the same classes. Now that you'd officially met him, you became more aware of him. Suddenly, he was everywhere.

The first time you'd chosen to sit down next to him in class, he'd choked on the water he was drinking.

"Are you okay?"

Y-yeah, just..water..wrong pipe. What're you doing here?"

"In this class?"

"Uh-no-like here, with me, in this seat?"

Oh, I'm sorry! Do you want me to move?"

No! Sorry, that came out wrong! I just-I wasn't expecting you to interact with us...you know the whole being 'freaks' thing...it might affect the way people see you."

"I don't care how people see me. Besides, I'm also a freak. Maybe just a...closeted freak."

Eddie swore that was when he fell in love with you.

Suddenly you were hanging out with each other all the time, sitting together in class, talking in the parking lot after school, giggling over random stuff in the hallway.

The more Eddie got to know you, the more he fell in love.

He'd find dumb reasons to touch you, passing random notes with doodles in class so he could briefly touch your hand, pretending like you had an eyelash on your cheek so he could take it off, ruffling your hair jokingly, putting his arm around your shoulder so he could whisper 'top secret DnD campaign stuff' (which was obviously just an excuse).

Your relationship developed and soon you'd be over at his place learning how to play his guitar, or going through his music collection, or forcing him to do his homework.

The first time you kissed was after Eddie accidentally confessed that he liked you. He heard that you were going out on a date with some random jock from school, and it was like all his nerves went into hyperdrive and the words spilled out. He thought that you'd never talk to him again, that he'd ruined everything, but you'd simply smiled and kissed him gently.

"I like you, too."

Bonus content: Dustin cries after you two get together. Happy cries, though. Mike gags any time he sees you two even remotely close to each other, even when you're not touching.

[cece693]

Obsessed (Dom M! Reader x Joe Goldberg)

This is my first attempt at writing smut since many lovely readers have asked for it. Don't come at me if you don't like it, but do leave comments if you want to see more. Thanks :)

Summary: It was supposed to be a one-night stand—fun with a cute guy you found in the club, but this was Joe we're talking about. Once he'd tasted you, he couldn't get enough.

tags: dom reader, Joe is obsessed, smut, reader is kind of a dick, and is as twisted as Joe but oblivious as fuck

You took the cute guy from the club back to your apartment, the promise of sex written in the hungry glances and heated touches shared between you. The night was unforgettable, not just because it was his first time, but because of how thoroughly you wrecked him. The way he responded to your touch—his initial whimpers of pain quickly melting into moans of pleasure—remained etched in your memory, even after you'd released inside him, leaving him breathless and sated.

It was supposed to be a one-night stand, just a fleeting moment of pleasure with someone you'd met on a whim. But this was Joe we were talking about. The moment he allowed you to dominate him, take his second virginity, and find himself enjoying the feel of you inside him, he was hooked.

When morning came, Joe found himself giving you a blowjob just to prolong his stay. He could've stayed like this forever—you gripping his curls, pushing his head to swallow more of his dick as saliva dripped from the sides of his mouth—but atlas, you finished and his responsibilities at the bookshop couldn't be ignored.

"Next time?" Joe rasped, throat sore from the force you utilized, but he wasn't complaining. Especially when you merely nodded before kissing him deeply, loving the taste of yourself in his mouth. You couldn't deny the present that fell into your hands—an attractive man who could fulfill all your fantasies was no easy thing to find. Of course, you agreed to see him again.

What you didn't account for was the man to make himself a permanent fixture in your life. The sex was great, otherworldly even, but you could see Joe wanted more. Small presents he'd given you whenever he'd come over, a desire to see a movie before clothes could hit the floor, sweet words he'd murmured while caressing your chest after round two. Joe wanted commitment. Plain and simple.

Too bad you didn't feel the same.

Monogamy wasn’t your thing. The idea of settling down, of being with one person day in and day out, felt suffocating to you. Relationships, with their routines and expectations, seemed dull, a far cry from the excitement and freedom you craved. You were a byproduct of a one-night stand yourself—your mother barely involved in your life, and your father? You’d never even met him. That kind of upbringing didn’t exactly instill a desire for stability or long-term commitment.

Yet, you made no motion to stop Joe. Perhaps you felt guilty over the obvious, touch-starved man who seemed to cling to every ounce of affection you gave him. His neediness was palpable, almost pitiable. How his eyes lit up when you gave him even the smallest bit of attention or the soft, involuntary sighs that escaped his lips when your hands wandered over his skin—it was like he’d been starved of human connection for far too long.

Maybe that’s why you let him linger—why you didn’t push him away when he showed up at your door with that eager smile and a hopeful look in his eyes. There was something almost endearing about his desperation, a sense of vulnerability that tugged at a part of you that you rarely acknowledged.

But it wasn’t love. Not for you, anyway.

Joe was an itch you scratched, a convenient distraction from the monotony of life. You didn’t mind indulging him in those small moments of tenderness if it meant keeping things uncomplicated. And Joe was good at playing along—until he wasn’t.

One night, you returned to your apartment with a pretty little thing you’d picked up at the club. You fumbled with the keys, grinning as your companion giggled beside you, a bit tipsy and clearly eager for what was to come. But the moment you stepped inside, the mood shifted.

Joe was already there, sitting in the dimly lit living room, his eyes locked on you with a mixture of hurt and fury. You hadn't given him a key, yet here he was, making himself at home.

"Joe?" you said, more surprised than anything else. "What are you doing here?"

His gaze flickered to the person beside you—a clear indication of your plans. The moment he realized who she was and what she was here for, a dark shadow crossed his face. The anger that simmered beneath his seemingly calm exterior erupted. Before you could react, Joe was on her, a flash of motion and fury.

It happened so fast. One second, she was standing beside you, and the next, Joe's hands were around her throat, his eyes wild and unhinged. You tried to pull him off, but it was like he had become something else, something feral and terrifying. His rage was primal, his strength unexpected, and it was over almost as quickly as it had begun. Her body fell limp to the floor, her wide eyes staring blankly.

You stared in shock, unable to process what had just happened. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took a step back, grappling with the sight before you. "Joe…what the fuck did you do?"

Joe turned to you, his expression softening, though his eyes still held that unnerving glint. “You weren’t supposed to bring anyone else here. You know that.”

Before you could react, he lunged at you. There was a sharp prick in your neck, and you realized too late that he had injected you with something. Your vision blurred, the room spinning as your legs gave out beneath you. Darkness closed in as Joe’s face hovered above you, his lips curling into a smile that was equal parts adoring and deranged.

When you finally regained consciousness, the world felt hazy and disorienting. It took a moment for you to realize you were in your own bed, your arms and legs heavy, unable to move. Your head throbbed as you tried to blink away the fog clouding your mind. And that’s when you felt it—a rhythmic, heated sensation around your lower half.

You found yourself unexpectedly captivated by the sight of Joe riding your cock, his body moving with a desperate, almost frantic need. There was a sick desire brewing deep within you, a twisted enjoyment at watching him lose himself entirely to the pleasure he found in you. The horror of what he’d done, of how he’d killed someone in a fit of jealousy, should have overshadowed everything else. Yet here you were, lying helpless beneath him, your body betraying you with every sensation, every heated pulse of his movements.

Your eyes trailed over Joe's flushed face, his parted lips trembling as he moaned your name, a mix of worship and madness in his voice. His body tightened around you with each thrust, and even in your drugged haze, you could feel yourself hardening further inside him.

"Joe…" you managed to rasp, your voice weak but heavy with something darker, something that surprised even you. His name came out almost like a growl, and his eyes snapped open, meeting yours with a fevered intensity. His pupils were blown wide with lust, his breaths ragged.

“Yes…yes.” he breathed, his movements becoming more erratic, fueled by the knowledge that you were watching him, enjoying him. “I knew you’d want this…I knew you’d love this.” He leaned down, his face hovering just inches above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You can’t deny it—you’re mine, just like I’m yours.”

Despite everything, there was a part of you that was entranced by his obsession, the way he’d gone to such extremes to claim you. It was as if his insanity was infectious, creeping into your veins alongside whatever he’d drugged you with. You hated that it turned you on, hated that his unhinged devotion stirred something primal in you. But there was no denying the heat pooling in your gut, the sick satisfaction of seeing him completely unraveled on top of you.

Joe’s pace quickened, his body trembling as he neared his peak. “Don’t stop looking at me.” he begged, his voice breaking, “I want to see you when you come inside me. I want to know you want this as much as I do.”

You could feel your body responding, helpless against the rising tide of pleasure. His words, his desperation, all of it fed into that dark corner of your mind where desire and revulsion intertwined. Your hands, still sluggish, managed to grip his thighs, encouraging him, guiding him to ride you faster. You didn’t even know why you did it—perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps it was the thrill of seeing how far he would go.

As Joe’s movements became more frenzied, you felt yourself on the edge, the line between ecstasy and disgust blurring in the heat of the moment. You knew you should have been horrified, should have pushed him away, but instead, you let the twisted pleasure build, the sick satisfaction of owning him—of being owned by him—consuming you both.

[evilkitten3]

ok so like i know the reason is just. sexism but one thing that really irks me about how the post-timeskip naruto manga handled which characters became medic nin bc it makes absolutely no sense to me

sakura's decision to train under tsunade makes sense, and i love that she got a super strength power up, so no notes there, but the other teams.... yeesh

so first off, team ten. we're told that ino decided to follow sakura into mednin land to keep being rivals with her... despite that at no point factoring into their rivalry at all beforehand. ino never showed any interest in that, nor was the yamanaka clan ever mentioned to have anything to do with healing as far as i can remember. it's like going to art school to stay with your bestie when your goal is to become a dentist. why are you there. find other ways to spend time together. it also kinda goes against her family's whole thing as. the guys who do the torture stuff. and it's barely ever relevant anyway

for team ten, i think the team medic should've been shikamaru, and i think this not just bc i think it makes more sense skill-wise (something about the way the nara clan's various shadow jutsu work just screams "you need good chakra control for this" to me), but also bc i think it would make asuma's death a thousand times more painful. bc shikamaru is a slacker. he's not learning medical ninjutsu bc he wants to, he's learning it bc someone on the team has to in order to stick together. they're all chuunin now; one of them has to be a medic. them's the rules. but he doesn't really care that much, even when he is trying to learn, and he's so used to being smart enough to not have to pay attention in lessons anyway that he's not prepared for classes that require his full focus. and then asuma dies and shikamaru is doomed to spend the rest of his fucking life wondering if he could've saved him by paying just a little more attention to those medical ninjutsu lessons (he could not have (but he'll never know for sure))

team eight makes some sense, since giving the girl who struggles with fighting the healing job isn't exactly out of nowhere, but i do feel it was the lazy choice. kiba already had a sister involved in the medical business, even if she deals more with animals, so he could've started learning from her and found that he liked it. plus kiba's goal is to be hokage, and the current hokage is a mednin, so it's not like it wouldn't support his goal. or shino could do it; would add another layer to his character. hinata works fine but. it's just not a very interesting development imo

but what really gets me is team gai. good freaking grief. out of every single team, team gai was the one with the most obvious choice. bc there was only one choice. lee can't do any kind of ninjutsu, and tenten's only real backstory is that her chakra control isn't good enough for her to be a medic nin. so it had to be neji. canon establishes that every team has to have a medic; this is a policy tsunade got passed even before she became hokage, so no way in hell is she going back on it now.

moreover, neji becoming a medical ninja - especially if hiashi encouraged it - would show some development for the hyuuga clan maybe starting to suck a bit less. bc as a medic, neji would be bound by oath to stay alive for as long as possible. imagine a world in which hizashi came back and hiashi was able to tell his brother that not only was their family starting to change, but his son had chosen a path that would prevent him from ever following in his father's footsteps. it would be the first step (of many) to show that the hyuuga clan was freeing itself from its own bullshit.

also it would've made sakura catching the zetsu pretending to be neji a thousand times funnier. like that's her coworker. they've shared shifts at the hospital together. she's seen neji drink vodka straight from a bottle and then crash on her couch after they got out of a twelve-hour surgery on the fucking dumbass chuunin who managed to step on his own boobytrap. she knows him.

[appleblueberry-pie]

You asked Yan!Miguel requests and I shall deliver

Yan!Miguel with a spider!reader that wasn't bitten by a spider but rather was experimented on (Alchemax still doing shady stuff) and has the same superpowers as Miguel (only that their venom is deadly).

However even after surviving the tragic things their canon indicates, they're a ball of sunshine.

oh yeah. it's all coming together.

MINE, ALLLLL MINE.

Miguel was having mixed feelings. He was coming to a point where it was hard to focus on his important work. It was hard to ignore his anxiety stomachache. Hard to ignore the usual annoying people that just wouldn't leave him alone in his man cave. And it was especially hard to forget about you. It wasn't ever possible to not think about you, but he just couldn't push you to the back of his head for at least two minutes. It was hurting him. It was also hurting his technology he kept destroying(he crushed two keyboards and threw his printer).

Why can't he just figure you out? Since Jess found you in your universe and immediately gave you the green flag to help his team of spider-people, he's found out so many things about you. But every time he is given an answer about one thing, it just digs him into a deeper hole of realization that he really doesn't know you. For starters, there's no legal government information of you anywhere. He's been watching you through his monitor for at least 2 hours a day, and most of your day consists of you beating ass. Like you have no other thing to do in your life, not to mean it in an insulting way.

It's just weird, because almost all spider-people have lives outside of them being spiders. But the more he observes you, your superhero life just reminds him more and more of....himself. You didn't have the obvious genetically-enhanced spider build that usual spiders do. Which was taller and slimmer. You were for sure taller(he did his research, you sprouted by 6 inches in height), but you were more on the muscular, bigger side. And this way, you would benefit more for close combat to take down enemies, instead of almost entirely relying on your webs. Similar to how he was. Another example to further explain, is he was watching you on his monitor while you had a mission to bring another universe's Green Goblin back to their universe. He found that your webs were obviously bio-engineered. Either you made these yourself, or someone made them for you. So, you were physically more powerful than the usual spider, had bio-engineered webs, and the way you fought.....

You had chased down that Green Goblin like he killed your family. It's not an exaggeration. GG was fast, but you were faster. He took multiple jerks around corners and through narrow alleyways, flying to get away from you. But you caught him. Slammed his body into the brick wall, damaging it. He screamed bloody murder to get away from you, and you just kept hitting him. He watched as your fist collided with his face multiple times. And when you finished, he saw you basically unhinge your jaw to show your long, venom-dripping, white fangs. They showed beautifully through the video footage lighting. They had to hurt when they protruded, it had to. But you didn't seem to care about anything in that moment besides finishing off your prey. You sunk your fangs into his neck, piercing them into his flesh as deep as you could, your regular teeth almost breaking into his skin as well. GG's scream of excruciating pain faded into complete silence. Miguel watched the man go limp in you arms. Was he dead? You held him to your body as close as you could to hide your catch from anyone who could've found the both of you. It concerned him so much with how you went about finding him, he had to interrupt you by calling your watch. You seemed to snap out of whatever trance you were in and removed your teeth from the now limp villain.

"Hello?" Your sweet voice rang through his watch and he couldn't find the right words to tell you to just bring the poor guy back to base. When you did, three doctors had to help resuscitate Green Goblin. What the hell did you do? You were asked this multiple times and you just felt more and more guilty when people continued to say it to you. Miguel decided to step in and remove you from the emergency room and just told you to take a few days off. All he could say to you is you deserved it, so you took his word. He immediately turned his monitors back on when you went back home, because it wasn't the end of your continuous mysteries.

When you go home, you clean up and then disappear. This wasn't news to him. But it was confusing because the cameras couldn't catch where you possibly went, even at different angles. It was somewhere in your bathroom. You'd open the shower curtain, step into the shower, close it and then not come out for the next 5 minutes. You did this once every two weeks. Other times when you were gone for the day, he tried to find the secret room you obviously had and...nothing. He couldn't find a damn thing. The wall was solid, it didn't seem like it was hiding anything. He scanned it multiple times with different gizmos he had up his sleeve, but nothing. So, after installing a small robotic fly that he placed into your home, he got lucky and managed to slip into a room hidden behind your shower when you went in at the dead of night. The room was almost entirely dark and all you had in there was countless metal bottles of some sort of a glowing serum and you would inject it into your shoulder. Something very similar to what he does to himself. He was surprised to next week with this information. What made it worse was that right after you injected yourself, you found his fake fly. So now you know someone was watching you. He can only hope you don't find out it was him who implanted it.

But now he was sure. You were just like him. It made him as happy as it made him frustrated because you had him all figured out. You knew he used injections, that he wasn't a natural spider, you probably also knew he loved you to the moon and back. He had a soft spot for you, and it showed so much it was pathetic. You could walk into his cave and call out for him with your siren song, and he would immediately turn off everything and drift your way, sweet nicknames for you sliding off of his tongue like sugar. He only ever wanted to please you. And he felt like you knew this. But even with everything he just found out about you just today, he still seemed in the dark.

All he knew is that you were a happy-go-lucky sweet girl. He didn't know why you did the things you do. Why you inject yourself, and why you are so predatory and ruthless when you basically hunt villains down. So, he asks you.

"Miguel?" He swipes all of his holographic screens away and turns off the rest of his devices, making a 180 to fully face you as you hop onto his platform. The smell of Empanadas wafted up his nose as you give three separate containers to him. "The cafeteria guy said he had extras, so I brought as many as he would let me for you. I know you don't eat much since you're really busy." His heart swells with affection as he coos at your sincere kindness, opening one to take his first bite. "Ohhh, querida, you didn't have to."(My dear)

You watch him place the rest on his desk and he finishes chewing to talk to you. "Thank you......So.....I wanted you to see me so that I can talk to you about how you handle the anomalies in other universes, and maybe even the regular villains in your own universe." You nod understandingly and Miguel had to ignore his increasing heartbeat at your eyes staring up at him.

"I'll be honest with you, amor. When groups are out to capture an anomaly, I usually don't have to monitor them because I have other people to do that for me. But Jessica and I sent you off on your own, knowing how much we can depend on you to carefully capture the anomaly with no troubles, which I know you don't. But, still, I take precautions and monitor you every now and then to make sure if you're alright or if you need any support. But when I see you through the my screens....you are....particularly rough with them. And it's more rough than the usual spider would be." You seem to know what he was talking about and advert your gaze, messing with your suit. (Love.)

"Y/n, you almost killed Green Goblin the other day." You purse your lips and nod in agreement. "Yes, I....."

You hesitate to speak. You didn't want anyone to know about your past. Did he have to know? You guessed so, since you are a part of a really big multiverse-saving company. It was so hard to escape Alchemax when they fucking tortured you every single day for their own pleasures. That stupid serum you can't live without? You stole enough to live for the next 3 years. And that's all you really needed. You took an Alchemax worker's apartment that you found deep in their records, knowing that if you fake your emails and his work, you could live in secret. You didn't want to live on like this forever. You knew that after those three years ended, then they ended. And you would follow.

Your only hope for the rest of your life is to live in secret and to help people as much as you can before you died. The serum just makes you a little.....violent. Just the way that the scientists liked it so that you could run on it for longer than usual. So, here you are. But how are you supposed to explain that to your boss?

"......Y/n?" He softly calls your name, concern etching his face as he reaches out to touch your hand. He almost didn't want to, not knowing how you felt about it. But when his finger very lightly grazed your warm and soft palm, you blinked back to life, grabbing his hand back. A breath entered his lungs and he seemed to be reborn at your sudden advancement to his touch.

".....Yes. I do have something to tell you." His eyebrows scrunch as he nods and pulls up a random chair to sit and wait for you to talk. You told him everything. About how you are an experiment on legs, how you were from Alchemax, and that they were the people that really owned you. And you being a spider-person is just you doing as much as you can for the city you loved so dearly. How you only had three or less years to live with the serums you had hidden in your home. How you literally don't care if you die anytime before that, and you're doing your part in life that doesn't make you as useless as you thought you were.

Miguel watched you say all of this. He watched your face. He watched how you....really didn't care. You were so calm about all of these life threats that you continuously had hovering over your head. You live life every day as if it was your last. What if someone burned your house down? What if Alchemax found you?? What would happen to you then?

"I can help you. Lyla." He almost seemed to work on autopilot. "Bring me documents of the chemical makeup of my own serum for me. While you're at it, turn all of the equipment in Floor 4's laboratory on for me." All of his tech equipment were back on again as he pulled his own serum, meant for next week, out of his drawer. "Miguel...?" "Y/n, can you bring me one of your own serums? I'll be in the lab when you come back. Find me on the fourth floor. Lyla can show you the way."

"Miguel!" He pauses and looks down at you. You shake your head as a shaky smile is brought to your face. "I don't need you to do this for me. I'm fine with the way things are." Miguel scrunches his face and steps towards you. "Qué? Te estás escuchando a ti mismo? Y/n, I don't want you to die. Nobody wants you to die. Y-you need to be here, No entiendes? Do you want to be a spider for the rest of your life, violently killing people the way you were taught? You can be given a regular life. A new life, here with me! You deserve more than just....being a machine. Because you're more than just a weapon. You're human."(What? Are you hearing yourself?)(Don't you understand?)

Miguel went too far with his speech. He said too much. Every word that continued to spill out of his lips dug him into a farther hole. You were crying, but it still didn't help the fact that you now know that he probably is infatuated with you. He tries to save face by saying more, but instead, his hand reaches out to wipe the tears off of your face. It couldn't possibly be real, the way you leaned into his touch. Your wet face touched his palm and he stuttered endlessly. Fuck, he had to get out of here.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to say that to you. It was unprofessional." You shake your head and lift your face out of his hands, staring up at him with those glistening eyelashes, your beautiful shiny eyes looking up at him. "No.....I'm glad you told me that. I.....thank you." He looks away bashfully and takes a step back....another....and then another until he walks off out of the cave to go down to the laboratory.

What is he going to do about you? He loves you too much to let you continue doing this horrible job. It was killing you.

Something feels off about this, but I am going to post it anyways because it's been bothering me like a collar tight around my neck all day. Needed this badly.

[cityofmeliora]

Cardi wishes he could've had a real father-son relationship with Nihil 😢

despite the obvious bullying / disrespect / hostility between them, Cardi accepts Nihil as his father much more easily than he accepts Sister Imperator as his mother.

after Cardi found out they're related, he actually started to acknowledge Nihil as his father. at concerts, he's referred to Nihil as "my dad", "my daddy", "my daddy-o", "my papa", "pops", "my old man", "my father", and "my old pop" dozens of times. but he's never once referred to Sister Imperator as his mother in any way. did you notice that? because i think about this a lot.

Cardi is bitter about Nihil having been an absent father.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: You know… my dad… not much of a dad. Bristow, Virginia, USA (August 24, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: That’s my old man. Or was. Pretty sucky father, but he still can blow. Syracuse, New York, USA (August 18, 2023)

but i don't think Cardi's bitterness about Nihil being an absent father is anger or hatred towards Nihil for failing to be a parent... i think it's a lamentation of the fact that they never even got a chance because they didn't find out they were father and son until Cardi was 51 years old and Nihil was already dead.

every time Cardi said Nihil was a bad father / an absent father, he always ended up saying "it's okay." or "he's okay." Cardi wants things to be okay. at the show in Sydney, in particular, Cardi genuinely sounds so sad and disappointed about their situation.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: My old dad. He wasn’t much of a father –he kind of sucked at that– but he sure as shit blows really good. Yeah, no, he– he’s fine, he’s fine, except for being dead. Auburn, Washington, USA (August 4, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: My old man… First, he was just a fart that I met. And then I got to know that he was my dad. Yeah. He's– he was okay. Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA (August 12, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: You see– I’m your Papa, but that’s my papa. He’s an okay papa. Or he was. He’s dead now, but we sort of drag him out for the good shows. Buenos Aires, Argentina (September 24, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: That’s my old man. Well… He never was much of a papa to me, but… it’s okay. Sydney, Australia (October 3, 2023)

i think Cardi, deep down, wants to forgive Nihil. he wishes they could've had a real father-son relationship. Cardi still longs for the parent he always wanted and needed but never had.

Cardi frequently talked about how Nihil used to be a singer / entertainer like Cardi is now, and Cardi said he thinks he must have gotten his talent from Nihil. as someone so proud of his own accomplishments, someone who's been shown multiple times to believe he's better than all the other Papas before him, it's strange for Cardi to say he got his talent from someone else. Cardi never said these kinds of things before he found out Nihil was his father, never even acknowledging the fact that he was allowed to become the frontman of Ghost because of Nihil's blessing. but he's saying these things now because he clearly wants to feel a connection to Nihil– to his father, even though he doesn't like to admit it.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: He was, once upon a time, a singer like I am. And he did a few tunes. I don’t know if you’ve heard them. They’re okay– they’re okay. Bristow, Virginia, USA (August 24, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: But you know, he used to sing, like I do! And he was an okay singer, actually. I must have got it from somewhere, I guess. Athens, Greece (June 25, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: You know, back in the day, he used to be a singer. I hate to say it, but I think I got it from him. Yeah. He was an okay singer. Auburn, Washington, USA (August 4, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: That was my– my old papa. He’s okay. He’s not that good. And I guess the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree… So he’s okay. Mexico City, Mexico (September 18, 2023)

Nihil and Cardi never got along, but there was still hope that it wasn't too late for their relationship to develop. in RITE HERE RITE NOW, as Cardi struggled with confusion about his life and feelings of anxiety over his time as Papa ending, Nihil offered Cardi some "entertainer advice".

PAPA NIHIL: Son– You seem to think of your life as a zero-sum game. As if you living in a house means that nobody has ever lived in the same house before you. That nobody will ever live there after you. That even before there was a house there, nobody walked that ground it now stands upon. It's not pleasant to think about that, I know. You have to be more here. Right here. Right now. I have also lived a long life that I was precious about. Life is not always how you scripted it. I am almost 80 years old, and I'm dead. But I still am part of it. Making the people rock. Look, I always wanted to entertain people… and be a part of the night, be a part of the world of magic and wonder– showbiz. And I am. Even now that I am dead, I can still entertain those people for a brief moment every night. And that is meaningful. Do you think that is how I wanted it to pan out? PAPA EMERITUS IV: Thank you, dad. RITE HERE RITE NOW

while i think Nihil's advice is kinda terrible considering the context that Cardi was legitimately afraid his parents were going to murder him and put his body on display for his successor's fans (which was not an irrational fear, because they literally actually did do that to his older brothers), i do think Nihil was genuinely speaking from his heart, and it got through to Cardi. that was the first time they had ever addressed each other directly as "dad" / "son".

so it seemed like they were starting to make real progress in their relationship. unfortunately, they're right back to bullying / disrespecting / being hostile to each other in the post-credits scene, so who knows how much that moments of sincerity and vulnerability actually affected them. 🙄

but yeah. ugh. it fucking kills me the way Cardi so clearly wants to forgive Nihil and wishes he could've had a real father-son relationship with him. they cannot fucking stand each other. but i think they could have loved each other. in a better life.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Fight for Love

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Summary: a fight between you and Dean leads to some unintended truth slipping out, maybe that's not a bad thing

Warning: flangst, arguing, self hate, implied smut, set in season 9(spoilers)

A/N: Not proofread all mistakes are my own.

You and Dean had been screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes now. It had gotten to the point where Sam had given up trying to be the mediator and snuck away to the library to let you fight it out in the map room.

This argument had started when you found out Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and to make it worse, he had hidden it from you for over a week. After you saw it on his arm and started asking questions, he tried to brush you off like it wasn't a big deal. Your anger had flared, but what you wouldn't admit, was that that anger, was fueled by fear and concern for your friend.

You had been friends with the boys for years and fought by their side. It wasn't long after getting to know them, that you started to develop feelings for the older Winchester, despite your best efforts at keeping your heart in check. At this point, those feeling had developed into being hopelessly in love with him. You wouldn't say anything though; you knew your feelings were unrequited.

"Do you know how bad of an idea that was Dean, we know literally nothing about what that mark could do to you, but I know it's really not good", you yelled as he paced back and forth on the other side of the map table. All the terrible things you had heard about the Mark in biblical literature, flashed through your head.

"We had no other option Y/N, what was I supposed to do?"

"We could've figured out a plan that didn't involve you getting a murderous tramp-stamp and then lying to me about it." Honestly you felt betrayed. You were supposed to trust each other.

"I didn't lie to you and it's too late now isn't it.", he was practically fuming now.

"Ok, then we'll get it off!", your yelling was elevated by the frustration and anxiety that was coursing through your veins.

"And why the fuck do you even care?", he yelled, leaning forward. He seemed so close to you despite still being across the table.

At his question, it was like something snapped inside you at his audacity, after all. the things youve been through, to even ask you that. All rational thinking and control went out of your mind.

"Because I love you!", you yelled, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Your voice was louder than it had been throughout your whole argument. However your screamed admission of the words you had tried so hard to keep to yourself for years, was followed by a deafening silence. All of your anger and fire drained out of you and was replaced by pure, icy dread and regret.

You wondered for a brief moment, if you had in fact said those words aloud, but one look at Dean's face, at his shocked expression, confirmed that you had. You had just brought your walls of emotional repression crashing down around you.

You glanced to your right to see that Sam had reemerged from the library, clearly he had heard you and wanted to see how this scene would play out. Sam, being your best friend, had always encouraged you to admit your feelings to Dean, but you had always thought that was a terrible idea. There was no way someone like him could want you. You didn't deserve him anyway. All of the terrible outcomes ran through your head, Dean rejecting you, or getting mad at you and kicking you out of the Bunker, or things becoming awkward and you losing your closest friends. Some of the only people you had.

You were waiting for one of these possibilities to happen as you stared at the floor while Dean still stared at you in stunned silence. In reality, it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped and you couldn't stand waiting anymore. So you ran.

"Y/N wait!", Sam called after you, but your feet were already carrying you to the garage. You grabbed your keys and got in your car as fast as you could, you wanted to be far away from this situation, somewhere you wouldn't have to face Dean. His silence made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you and you didn't think your heart could handle his rejection... or worse.

After about 20 minutes of driving, your thoughts had spiraled to the point that your hands were shaking, so you pulled off the road into a field. You got out of your car to go sit on the hood and think, try to come up with a plan on what to do next, but it was like your mind wasn't working. You hadn't even realized it, but you were crying. You just wished you could go back in time and take back those words.

Dean's POV

Dean didn't break out of his trance of disbelief until he heard the garage door slam behind you. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that you had just admitted you loved him, he thought there was no way someone like you could want someone like him.

"What the hell man!", Sam said, exasperated. "Why did you just stand there?" He looked ready to smack him.

"I don't know Sam!". He felt like an idiot. Why did he just stand there? Why didn't he say anything? And now you were gone. "What do I do?", he asked his brother.

"Well, it's too late to follow her, so we'll have to find her."

"How?"

The younger Winchester thought for a moment. "We can try to track her phone and hope she didn't turn it off."

Your POV

You couldn't have been sitting on your hood, drowning in stress, for more than 30 minutes before you heard the distinct rumbling of the impala. You forgot to turn the location off on your phone. Fuck. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you prayed to any god listening, that it was Sam in the car and not Dean. But you knew better. You knew just from the sound of his footsteps who it was.

Dean came and sat next to you in the hood of your car. You couldn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he saw you were crying.

"Sweetheart, please look at me", he said after a moment of silence. He placed a hand on your knee and you immediately jerked away.

"You don't need to say anything Dean, I get it." You still weren't looking at him. You really didn't want to hear some "it's not you it's me" speech.

"Get what?", he asked, genuinely confused at how you were reacting.

"I'm so sorry", you said, completely ignoring his question; your eyes welling with a new wave of tears.

"Whoa whoa, hey", he said softly, moving off the hood to kneel in front of you. Your hands went up to hide your face. "C'mon look me Sweetheart. Please.", he pulled your hands away from your face to hold them.

"Please don't kick me out." You knew that was an irrational fear to have and Dean would probably never do that to you, but the weight of your insecurity was heavy on your mind.

He was taken aback by your words but his heart broke at how upset you looked and the tear stains on your cheeks. He realized then, what was going through your mind; you thought he was going to reject you.

"Hey, no one's kicking you out." He gently squeezed your hands. "Look at me."

His voice sounded so gentle, but you could pick up on the hint of what sounded like nervousness. You finally met his eyes.

"I love you too." Your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, but you knew how monumental Dean Winchester, saying those words to anyone, was. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

"Y-you love me?" you were still shocked, you wanted to cry for a whole other reason now. Relief. Happiness. Gratitude.

"Have for a long time sweetheart, how could I not." He could still tell you didn't believe him so he leaned up slowly giving you plenty of time to pull away, before planting a gentle kiss to your lips. It felt like you were going to combust and he was the only thing keeping you tethered to earth.

Once your brain had caught up and he pulled away, you decided the kiss was entirely to short for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, that tried to make up for all the years of waiting. Laying back on the hood of your car you pulled him to stand between you legs as he continued to kiss you. This was a rare moment in your life where you were allowing yourself to have what you wanted.

Things were getting pretty heated before Dean pulled back to look down at you. "We don't have to take this any farther if you don't want to," he said, eyes laced with softness and concern.

"Dean if you don't want to go any farther because you want to take things slow, that's fine with me, but if you're saying that because you're worried about me... I've been waiting for nine years, don't make me wait any longer."

A smile, that you hadn't seen in a long time, lit up his face. "Then why don't we move to the car," he motioned to the sky. It apparently had started lightly raining at some point and was about to start coming down harder.

You nodded in agreement, before taking his offered hand so you could climb off your hood. He opened the back door of the impala for you and let you get in before joining you and shutting the door. You were going to wait out the rain and try to make up for all the lost time.

Laying in his arms, completely blissed out, you listened to his breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car. You ran your hand down his arm until you got to his forearm. You stopped to run your thumb over the mark. "Does it hurt?" you asked.

"Not really. It did at first." he took a breath before continuing. "I'm sorry... I know it was a stupid move, and I should have told you."

"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just worry about you."

Before he could respond, you heard his phone ring from the floorboard. You groaned, not wanting to move from his hold.

He chuckled at your annoyance. "It's probably Sam. It's been hours, we should at least let him know you didn't wind up in a ditch somewhere."

"Fine," you said with a playful eyeroll and reached down to grab his phone. You read Sam's name on the caller ID and answered it. "Hey Sammy," you greeted.

"Oh h-hey!" he said clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of Dean's. "So I guess Dean found you."

"Yeah everything's good. We're ok."

"Ok good," he said with a hint of relief.

"We'll be home soon, I promise." You said your goodbyes to Sam, before hanging up and putting Dean's phone back in his pocket.

"I guess we should head back."he said.

A flash of worry went through you. You didn't want to break this moment, almost fearing that what had happened between you two would disappear when you left the safety of the car.

You nodded with a sigh and began gathering your clothes.

Once you were both redressed, you went to reach for the door handle and head back to your car. Dean's hand on your arm stopped you.

"We'll get your car tomorrow, just ride home with me tonight," he pleaded.

"Ok," you breathed, relieved that the moment still wasn't ending.

You had settled into the front seat with him and began the drive back to the bunker, when you had an idea. Rummaging through his box of cassettes you found the one you were looking for.

"What are you doing, Sweetheart?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"Don't worry about it, you just keep driving." You smiled at him and slipped the tape into the cassette player.

Dean started to laugh as soon as he recognized what song you had played. "Did you just 'Night Moves' me ?"

You nodded and started singing along with Seger's voice with a huge smile on your face.

[julesdaydreams]

@rosekillermicrofic II prompt: May 1 - rose II word count: 951

TW: blood (it's nothing major, just a cut, but it's there)

Barty was standing in front of him with a rose.

Barty, his best friend for over six years, was standing in front of him, Evan, with a fucking rose.

And Evan's mind was spinning.

It wasn't like he hadn't dreamt of a moment like this. When the ball at the end of the year was announced, Evan's mind immediately wandered towards Barty. How it would feel to go there with him. His best friend, but more importantly, with the boy he's been madly in love with for the better part of three years.

Evan imagined himself standing in front of Barty, asking him to the dance, and not as friends - like the other times the two of them had attended gatherings together instead of bringing a date because they just couldn't be arsed to ask someone - but as more.

And now Barty was standing in front of him with that damned rose, thorns still adorning the stem because of course Barty wouldn't bother removing them, would like the fact that if he wasn't careful they'd sting and draw blood.

Was this some crude joke of his friend? Was this like all those other times they've gone together to such things instead of bringing someone else? But no, that wouldn't explain the rose. In all those years there had never been a rose and Evan didn’t know what it meant.

“So?”, came the all too familiar voice and Evan's head snapped up and towards those large eyes that looked like Barty's, but also not because Evan had never seen them like this; wide and expecting, but there was fear behind them, a tension, as if Barty was ready to bolt if Evan said something wrong.

“What?” Was all Evan's very unhelpful brain could come up with.

Barty looked exasperated with him already.

“The ball, Evan. You want to go? With- With me?” Barty's voice was higher than usual, if not by much but Evan could tell. He was also fidgety - which was usually pretty normal for the boy, but not with Evan. Not when they were alone.

Finally focusing on the fact that he should probably say something, Evan stepped into action.

“Oh! Yeah sure, mate. You don't have to ask so formally, we always go together to these things, no?”, he laughed lightly but it all came out wrong. Because for once in his life Evan couldn't suppress the hope that this was something else, that this meant more, whatever that more was.

Barty cursed, rolled his eyes, before looking at Evan with so much intensity, he found himself pinned to the floor, not even blinking.

“Rosie, you know that's not what I meant. That's not what this is. I got you a rose for fucks sake! Isn't that obvious enough?! I don't want to go as mates. Not with you. Not anymore. I just- I really hope I haven't been reading this wrong and I'm making a complete arse of myself right now. But- you want this too, right? Want… want us to be more than best friends?”

It all came out in a jumbled mess, just calming down over the last few words and he sounded so unsure. Evan has never seen him like that he wanted to make it go away, now.

So, when his brain finally caught up with him, when his thoughts where finally aligned, focused on the boy in front of him, the boy he loved, he just acted.

He took the rose from Barty's hands, feeling the way the thorns dug into his palm, cutting skin, because he couldn't waste a moment being careful about such a thing when all he wanted was Barty.

His arms wrapped around Barty's neck, pulling him down the few inches he had on Evan, and crashed their mouths together.

It wasn't gentle. Maybe it could've been. If Evan wanted it to. He could've taken Barty's rose gently, instead of crushing the stem in his palm. Could've taken Barty's cheeks in both his hands, cradling them, before planting a sweet kiss to the other boys lips.

But Evan had waited three years for this moment. Had been gentle with his own heart this whole time, trying to protect it, to shield it from every hook-up of Barty's, from every hickey that the other had, that weren't from Evan.

For once he wanted to be reckless and now, here, with Barty he finally could.

Soon it was tongues and teeth clashing together and Evan biting Barty's tongue, drawing blood from the other and loving the taste, loving the whimper it elicited from the taller boy.

Evan would've spent the rest of his life standing there and snogging Barty, but the taller boy took a step back all too soon, looking at Evan with such adoration it made him melt on the insides.

“Is that a yes?”, Barty asked and it wasn't nervous anymore, but cocky. That familiar smirk on his face finally back where it's supposed to be and Evan was so happy with it all.

“That's a fucking yes. I'll go to that stupid dance with you, Barty.”

They kissed again, something long and slightly less brutal, if just as intense.

And if Evan forgot about the rose in his bloody hand and brought it to the side, cradling Barty's neck and jaw; if the thorns stung the other boy's creamy skin, painting it a crimson red… Well. None of them seemed to mind.