#SPOILER ALERT NOT GOOD IDEA. ON MY HANDS AND KNEES IN MY LIVING ROOM WITH MY NEIGHBORS WONDERING WHY I'M WAILING OVER THR COLOR BLUE

[c-rin-ge]

NOBODY FUCKING TALK TO ME I JUST READ THE EQUIVALENT OF 200+ PAGES IN 5 HOURS AND I AM IN FUCKING SHAMBLES

[moonhoures]

Cowgirl

🕷️ kinktober — day 10: costumes 🕸️

pairing: wooyoung (ateez) + reader (afab)

genre: non-idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, cowboy/cowgirl costumes, lots of lame cowboy-related jokes/comments bc i think i’m funny ig (sorry), protected sex 👍🏻, reverse cowgirl position, ass slapping, reader is half-clothed during sex

word count: ~2.2k

synopsis: you and your boyfriend can’t get enough of each other in your halloween costumes

a/n: the way my ateez bias list is in shambles after writing these kinktober posts….. 😔

posted: october 10, 2023

kinktober masterlist

“________! Are you ready yet?”

Wooyoung’s voice rung out through the house as he looked around the room, trying to recall where he had set down his cowboy hat. While his eyes trailed over the room, the sound of your boots thudding down the stairs caught his attention. He turned to watch your entrance to the living room, and his eyes widened at the sight of you in all your glory. Your body covered in a black, leather cowgirl outfit that matched his own. The matching costumes were his idea, but you were the one that had picked them out. This was the first time seeing you in yours, and it was taking his breath away.

Your breasts were practically spilling out of the top of your tight-fitted, sleeveless vest that showed off your midriff. He was thankful you were wearing a black bra underneath, because the buttons on the vest looked like they were minutes away from popping open—not that he would really complaint about that. Black leather shorts hugged your ass and the tops of your thighs snuggly. Leather boots, with fringe that matched the kind on your vest, reached up just past your knee. A faux lasso was coiled up and attached to the empty belt loop on your hip.

“Close your mouth, babe, you’re gonna catch flies,” you teased your boyfriend, holding out his missing cowboy hat to him while you set your own on top of your head, “And you forgot this upstairs.”

Wooyoung quickly shut his mouth, took the hat from your hand, and set it on his head. The two of you stood in front of the mirror displayed by your front door, making last minute adjustments of your clothes before you planned to leave. You smiled as you admired your good work at finding matching outfits; you had to admit you both looked really good. Wooyoung’s leather pants and matching vest just fit him so well. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of his ass in the tight pants you got him.

“My eyes are up here, ________.”

Now Wooyoung was the one teasing you, throwing you a wink as he caught your eyes in the mirror. You rolled your eyes playfully, and handed him his keys before nudging him towards the door.

Your mutual friend, Seonghwa, was throwing a costumer party for Halloween that started at 8pm. So naturally you two showed up fifteen minutes late because Wooyoung swore he knew how to get to his house without using the GPS—spoiler alert, he didn’t. But Seonghwa still greeted you both at the door with a big smile and a glass half-full of some kind of liquor nonetheless.

“Woohoo, first couple of the night just got in from the West? I love it,” he gestured to your outfits before embracing you in a quick hug.

“All _______’s idea,” Wooyoung gave you your credit, his hand never leaving your hip as you two walked in and your friend closed the door behind you.

“She does have good fashion sense,” Seonghwa winked in your direction before bringing you to the kitchen where everyone else was indulging in the snacks and drinks while music played from the living room.

For the next few hours, you and your boyfriend socialized with the growing number of party guests, most of whom you already knew. So you had no problem making your way through the house without your boyfriend unlike how you usually would in a party setting. But you two still danced and chatted with your friends for a while before you separated. At one point you got caught up in a card game with Yunho, San, and a handful of other partygoers. Wooyoung was off somewhere talking with Seonghwa and Hongjoong for almost half an hour before he realized how long you had been gone, presumably in the bathroom. After excusing himself, he set off to look for you.

When he found you in the dining room playing cards, he lingered by the doorway, watching you as he took sips of his drink. You looked hot beyond belief. Your sharp eyes watched everyone placing their cards on the tables, the gears in your head turning. Even in the shitty, dim lighting of the dining room, you still glowed. And when the game went your way, you hollered with excitement, leaping from your chair and moving your arm in a lasso movement to play off of your costume. Wooyoung couldn’t help the way he smiled.

You reached across the table, bringing all the chips to your corner with a wide smile on your lips. As the cards got reshuffled and you took another sip from your drink, you made eye contact with your boyfriend across the room. You grinned at him, noticing him taking a seat on the stool near him. While the next game started you could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you, and it made your face feel hot. But you liked it. You liked the way he watched you play with a concupiscent expression on his face. The way his intense eyes were covered in darkness from the shade of his cowboy hat, which only added to how sexy he already looked. You really had to give yourself a pat on the back for these costumes.

“________,” Yunho nodded in your direction to get your attention back to the game, “Your turn.”

You snapped back to the task at hand, taking your hand of cards and fanning them out in a way only you could see them. The handful of partygoers that lingered around the table watched you and the other players inspect their cards. But Wooyoung’s eyes were on you—only you—and they were practically burning holes through you. You shifted under his gaze, suddenly feeling very antsy and, honestly, extremely horny.

While the next round started, you made the mistake of looking up over your cards at your boyfriend again. He was still sat on his stool, but he was leaning back with one elbow propped against the counter. His other hand was loosely holding the stereotypically big, flashy, silver belt buckle on his pants. The lack of effort he was putting in to look so fucking attractive was majorly doing it for you. In that moment you decided to focus on finishing the game and getting home as soon as possible.

Luckily for you, Wooyoung seemed to be on the same page. You didn’t win that round, but when you met him by the counter, he still praised you for how well you played.

“You know, you are so hot when you’re competitive,” he said, eyes glinting as he leaned his head up to look at you from under the brim of his hat.

“Really? I was gonna say the same about you,” your fingers trailed from his leather-covered knee up to the top of his thigh as you spoke, making his Adam’s apple shift, “I meant, you looked really hot watching me play.”

“Hm, I wonder what two hot people in costumes could do on a night like this,” he sighed dramatically, not missing the way you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“I was thinking we could go home. I could, uh, use a ride,” you arched a brow at him, further enunciating your words as a hint.

“Well duh, we came here together.”

You shook your head softly and tried not to laugh, “No, babe, I’m a cowgirl, remember? I could use a ride.”

This time your fingers reached up to his belt, gripping his buckle and tugging at it softly. Your boyfriend smirked, looking at the way your thighs brushed against his legs. He could already imagine how you would look riding him on the couch—he figured you two wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.

“I’ll go get my keys.”

You pecked a chaste kiss to his lips before zig-zagging through the people in the house to the front door. You did run into Seonghwa on your way out, and you made sure to thank him for inviting you two. He pouted, commenting that it was so early for you to be leaving, but when he saw the look Wooyoung was giving you as he rejoined you by the front door, he instantly understood the situation.

“Alright, go have a good night. Just don’t drive like a maniac!” he called after you before the door closed behind you both.

Wooyoung heeded his friend’s warning, driving safely despite being distracted by your lips on his cheek and neck at red lights. But as soon as he got home and threw the car into park, all bets were off. Seatbelts clicking filled the car as you both leaped out of your seats. Wooyoung was quick to unlock the front door, and he hooked his keys onto the key holder by the light switch. Once the door was closed, he pressed you up against it, giggles erupting between the two of you as you went in for a kiss and your hats bumped into each other.

He took his off, tossing it to the floor before diving back in for the kiss, his lips and tongue clashing with yours. You moaned when you felt his hips grinding up against yours and the chunky buckle of his belt rubbing against your lower stomach. The buttons on your vest popped open one-by-one at the expertise of his fingertips, causing you to gasp in surprise. He smirked at you as you pulled away from the kiss.

“How ‘bout that ride now?”

You nodded, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the bedroom. No couch tonight, I guess, he thought as you passed it up. You flipped on the light switch, illuminating the room while you kicked off your boots and pushed them aside. Your boyfriend followed your lead, took off the rest of his clothes, quickly put on a condom, and then climbed onto his side of the bed. He asked you to leave your top and hat on—“for fun”, he said. Then he licked his lips in anticipation, watching you get on from the opposite side of the bed after removing your leather shorts and panties.

“Hop on,” Wooyoung patted his thigh, eyes raking up and down your figure before you got yourself comfortable on his lap, back turned to him. Oh, reverse cowgirl, he thought. This is gonna be great.

Your knees dug into the mattress at the sides of your boyfriend’s thighs, and you let out a sigh of satisfaction when you felt his waiting cock against your wet folds. You learned forward, putting on a show for Wooyoung, swaying your hips just enough to put your pussy on full display for him. He let out a small groan, and the next thing you knew, his hands were on your ass.

“Like what you see?” you teased him, rocking your hips while he rubbed the plump of your cheeks.

“Love it,” he assured you.

With his hungry, expecting eyes on you, you reached between your thighs and took his erection in your hand. You lined up the head of his cock to your cunt. Blissful breaths fell off of both of your lips as your warmth engulfed him. He was buried deep; you could feel him in places that even your toys couldn’t reach. It was perfect.

You began rocking your hips, up and down and back and forth, building a rhythm. You smiled to yourself as you heard your boyfriend make little noises of pleasure. And if that wasn’t a clue that he was enjoying the view, then it was the way his fingers gripped your ass, pulling your cheeks further apart so he could watch himself disappear between them. He landed one good slap against your flesh, then another and another, encouraging you to go faster. Your hat was starting to slip off from how quickly you were moving, so you reached up to adjust it.

“That’s it, cowgirl, keep going,” you heard him say, and you obliged. You continued to bounce on him, the space between your thighs growing wetter by the minute.

“Fuck- Are you close?” you asked, your orgasm brewing deep in your belly.

“If you keep fucking me like this, I will be- Ah!” he hissed as you clenched on him and seated yourself down completely on him, grinding your hips harder than before. You braced your hands on his knees, leaning forward a little. You arched your back, letting him watch you fuck him in hopes of getting him to cum sooner. Seconds later he was moaning your name and his hands were holding your hips so tightly that you knew there would be marks there in the morning. Man, did you know your boyfriend well, or what?

Your vagina squeezed and clenched around his condom-coated cock while you breathed heavily between moans of his name. Your hips slowly came to a halt, and Wooyoung’s hands finally fell to his sides on the bed.

“Remind me why we haven’t done this before?” he asked, making you laugh.

“Because we haven’t had a reason to wear costumes since we started dating,” you reminded him, peeking at him over your shoulder before you dismounted from his lap. Your knees pressed into the mattress beside him, then you were plopping onto the space there, cuddling against his side.

“Well we should start considering other costumes, y’know, . . . for next year,” he shrugged, head tilting to look at you.

“Next year? Why wait? We can dress up anytime we want to, not just for Halloween,” you winked at him, earning raised eyebrows in response.

“Say less. I’m putting you in the next sexy costume I can get my hands on.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

[written-in-the-stars3]

braids

fandom: ensemble stars

relationship: mikejima madara/oukawa kohaku

words: 1,258

Summary:

Slender fingers combed through his hair— a simple side braid leading into a little ponytail should be sufficient. The only problem was getting the braid right. It was a lot easier helping his sisters out with their hair, doing his own only proved to be a challenge as his hair kept getting tangled in his fingers. Maybe he could see if there was still a hairstylist around the studio that could help him out….

“Here, I’ll do it,” came Madara’s voice from behind him, his fingers replacing his own as he started combing out Kohaku’s awful attempt at a braid.

A/N: this is an old pic that I posted on my ao3 a while back and now I am sharing here!

“Stupid Rinne-han. Stupid variety show games. Stupid Rinne-han for makin’ us sign up for stupid shit…”

To say Kohaku was frustrated was an understatement. This was the last time he was trusting Rinne’s word on accepting a variety show job without himself looking into it first. Not to mention, this was the last time he was ever going to team up with Rinne and listen to his pathetic— “Don’t worry so much, Kohaku-chan! I know what I’m doing!”

Spoiler alert, Rinne most definitely had no idea what the hell he was doing hence the pair losing the game show. Now, if they could simply walk away with just a loss, Kohaku would not have been this worked up— had he not learned anything from Eden and Ra*bits participating in a variety show, he should have expected a punishment for the losing team.

When the pair were handed a school girl outfit— a simple white blouse with a tie and a blue plaid skirt, Rinne was quick to toss it towards Kohaku. “You’ll blend in better with those high school girls, Kohaku-chan. I’m too huge for that!”

And that was how Kohaku found himself in front of a full length mirror, taking one good look at himself as he straightened out the knee length skirt, cursing Rinne in every language he possibly could. Oddly enough, the uniform was perfect, which was another reason Kohaku was not looking forward to stepping out of the dressing room to face Rinne who would find this to be absolutely hysterical.

Maybe if he imagined all the different ways he could turn Rinne’s bones into furniture it would make getting through this a lot easier. There was no backing out of it now— not when it was broadcasted on television and who knows how many people were waiting to see him like this.

“Kohaku-san~!” The dressing room door was barged open, making the pink haired teen jump to his surprise. “Rinne-san said I could find you here— oh? What do we have there?”

Kohaku grabbed the first thing he could reach, that being one of his sneakers and threw it towards Madara who dodged it with a stupid grin on his face. “Madara-han, you frickin’ moron! Dontcha know how to knock?!”

Kicking the door closed, Madara picked up the discarded sneaker to bring back to Kohaku. “Sorry about that! I had the day off so I thought I’d drop in to visit. Rinne-san told me you would be in here.”

Of course Rinne told Madara where to find him. He could just imagine the hysterics his unit mate was in after sending his partner this way. Yeah, Rinne was definitely going to get it when all this is over.

Kohaku snatched the sneaker and tossed it aside. “Well you found me. Now leave before I throw somethin’ bigger at your head,” he threatened but turned back around to finish getting ready.

As usual, Madara took his threats with a grain of salt, the older man leaning against the nearby wall as he observed his partner fixing up the skirt. “Come on now, Kohaku-san~ You look absolutely adorable! Cute as a button!”

Kohaku’s face turned red from embarrassment— he could see Madara behind him from the mirror, green eyes trailing up his legs all the way above his knees where the skirt ended. Sure he knew that his partner would have seen him on tv whether it was live or a recording so he would have had to deal with this sooner or later. But he did not expect to have to deal with this right this moment, when he needed to finish getting ready and be out on set for his next instructions.

“I don’t have time for your perverted ass right now,” Kohaku muttered, his attention on his reflection as he brushed his hair out— his hair, that was all that was left to do.

Slender fingers combed through his hair— a simple side braid leading into a little ponytail should be sufficient. The only problem was getting the braid right. It was a lot easier helping his sisters out with their hair, doing his own only proved to be a challenge as his hair kept getting tangled in his fingers. Maybe he could see if there was still a hairstylist around the studio that could help him out….

“Here, I’ll do it,” came Madara’s voice from behind him, his fingers replacing his own as he started combing out Kohaku’s awful attempt at a braid.

Kohaku watched him through the mirror, not expecting Madara to offer his assistance as it seemed like his sole purpose of visiting was just to pull his leg (he was also convinced that Rinne probably let slip to him about what would be happening). Regardless of that, he nodded and handed Madara the hairbrush.

Despite their previous banter, Kohaku relaxed under Madara’s fingers and as they were replaced with the bristles of the hairbrush. Madara’s touch was gentle and careful as he brushed through each knot, brushing them out without even the slightest discomfort. Kohaku closed his eyes, surrendering to the soothing sensation and listening to the soft little hums from his partner who seemed very absorbed in his work.

“I’ll braid it like mine. Is that okay?” Madara asked, fingers skillfully sectioning the pink hair when Kohaku hummed in response. 

The previous tension and stress that built inside Kohaku started to dissipate under Madara’s comforting touch. He was gentle with everything he did, so gentle and so concentrated as he braided a little section of his hair before tying it back in a little ponytail as the length of Kohaku’s hair allowed it.

“A-Are you done?” Kohaku asked, looking back at Madara who shook his head.

“Just one more thing…” He looked through the accessories on the vanity, pulling out a blue ribbon that matched Kohaku’s outfit. With a smile, Madara then wrapped the ribbon around the simple hair tie before tying it in a cute little bow to finish off. “There we go! All done!” Madara grinned and stepped back to admire his handiwork. 

Kohaku glanced back at himself in the mirror, a small smile on his lips as he looked over his hair. The braid was neatly done— there was no denying that Madara was in fact talented when it came to these things.

“Thanks, Madara-han… Glad your visit served some purpose, hm?” Kohaku teased and Madara’s laughter filled the dressing room— that annoyingly loud laughter which showed no care for the space they were in but filled him with warmth. 

“Mama would like to think of himself as somewhat useful to his partner!” Madara grinned, his hands on his hips.

Partner. About time he started acknowledging him as such without prompting. Guess Kohaku had to give him some credit as overtime Madara started to feel more comfortable with his role as a partner— one where they both had each other’s backs. But, that was something to think about later on. There was no time to get sentimental when it was almost time for his recording.

“Yeah yeah… you aren’t entirely useless.” Kohaku snickered before he turned around to face Madara with a smile. “Thanks anyways. I appreciate your help a lot.”

Madara waved it off, the man walking towards the door. “It’s no biggie! But if you really want to thank Mama, then maaaaybe you can dress up like this for me during our private time~”

This time when Kohaku threw his shoe in his direction, it hit Madara square on the head.

[planetsano]

a family-friendly sleepover.

SYNOPSIS ☆ "can I request reki and his s/o having their first sleepover together :) nothin nsfw!! just fluff and the both of them being dorks"

WARNINGS ☆ gn!reader but reki's baby sisters dress you up in a princess outfit.

PAIRING ☆ reki kyan x gn!reader

A/N ☆ I made this into a bullet fic/headcanon sort of thing. I hope that's okay, it's just easier for me to convey ideas! ;(

I don't think it would be planned! It would just sort of happen.

The relationship was still new-ish, with it only being official for a month and a few days, but the two of you were inseparable.

One night after a skate date, you two decided to spend a little more time together back at his house. It was supposed to be an hour and thirty minutes max.

But there you two were cuddling and all pouty because you had to leave.

"It's late. I should go." Your voice is muffled from your face being buried into Reki's neck. His arm was loosely wrapped around your waist, rubbing on your back while. Your hand was on the other side of his neck, snuggling into him closer.

It was silent for a bit, the both of you unmoving because you didn't want to separate—puppy love.

A few more minutes passed, and you sighed. Now you had to get up. You sat on your knees, and you looked at Reki with a pout.

"C'mon, walk me out." You hit his chest gently. He groans and sits up, looking at you in your eyes.

"Do you really have to leave?" Reki asks.

You thought about it. You didn't necessarily have to leave, but you were supposed to, right?

"I mean, no but-" You stated but he cut you off.

"You can stay the night," He pauses, realizing what he just said. He was ready, but that's a significant milestone in any relationship, and maybe you weren't there yet. "Only if you want!" He gave you a nervous chuckle.

"Baby, are you sure?” Your hands found the sides of his face. “Will your mom mind?” Your thumbs rubbed his cheeks.

"I’m sure! She won't mind. I'll tell her it'll be a family-friendly sleepover."

“A family-friendly sleepover, babe?” You giggle and peck his lips.

"Yeah, it sounds PG, Ya know?”

Reki's mom and his sisters were so excited to have you over. His mother showed you some of his baby photos, and his sisters pulled you into one of their rooms. The oldest wanting boy advice, and the younger sisters just wanted to play dress up.

While you were occupied with his family, he took the time to get you everything you needed for the night. A toothbrush, a face towel, and pajamas (which consisted of one of his oversized shirts and baggy pajama pants)

Honestly, he was nervous the whole time he was preparing everything :(

He just wants everything to go well even though it was a last-minute thing, and there wasn't much he could do to plan.

Reki makes his bed and straightens up his room a bit even though it was already clean. Are there enough pillows??? Would you need more blankets??? Shit, he had to grab some extra drinks just in case you get thirsty!! He's a little ✨ frantic ✨

He folds your PJs in a neat square on his bed and even goes the extra mile to light a couple of sweetly scented candles and get more pillows

When he's satisfied, he'll go to his sister's room and knock on the door. He pokes his head in to see you wearing a tiara and an exceptionally poorly fitted princess dress. It was obviously made for a child the way it wouldn't close around your frame. Reki thought you looked adorable, but it was Reki-(Name) time now.

"Can I have my (Name) back?" He asks with a pout. His sisters shout a playful "no!"

"No? Let's fight then!" Reki comes into the room entirely fists raised.

Cue a fun sibling fight for your attention and love—spoiler alert. Reki wins, but only because they went easy on him. It was getting late anyway.

He takes you back to his room after you politely return your costume to his little twin sisters, and pinky promise you'll play again soon.

You smile when you see all the little things he's done and put out for you. You notice it all, from the candles to the couple bottles of water and snack sitting on his desk.

You guys brush your teeth and wash your face together. It's very much that scene from Bring It On. Lots of flirting through the mirror and hip bumps trying to fight for more mirror space.

He only gets "slightly" shy when he realizes you have to change.

"Uh, I'll let you change in here.." He says before he takes pajamas of his own out of his drawer. "I'll be right back!" He says and exits his room.

A few minutes will pass, and he's all dressed for bed. He knocks gently on his door, waiting on your response.

"Come in!"

He slides his door open to find you sitting crisscross applesauce on his bed. You look so sweet in PJs and a small smile on your face while you make grabby hands at him.

"Cuddle time, baby!" You say cutely.

Excited puppy Reki activated.

Reki takes so many candid pictures and videos of you. He makes one of the photographs his phone's lock screen. It's not a candid, but you're posing with two peace signs held up and a cute smile.

You guys are definitely making tiktoks too. (he's a surprisingly good dancer??????)

Netflix, Hulu, Disney Plus? He has it all on his laptop.

You guys get in a comfy cuddle position and watch movies and cartoons for a while. The Scooby-Doo live-action movie? Watched. A few episodes of Regular Show and Adventure Time? Watched.

He notices when you're quieter than usual—your cute little giggles at funny scenes dying down to soft hums.

"Sleepy?" He asks with a soft smile, and you nod your head in response. Your eyes were getting heavier and heavier by the second.

Reki closes his laptop and starts to get up.

"Hnng- Where you are goin'?" You whine and ball his shirt in your fists.

"I gotta blow out the candles and put this up. I'll be back in no time, lovebug." He kisses your forehead, and you let him go.

You watch him get up and put his laptop on his desk, plugging it up to its charger. Before he blows out the candles, he turns to look at you.

"You don't need a nightlight, right? Because I have one if you need it, babe! I'm not judging!" Reki says

"Reki, I don't need a nightlight. Thank you, though, baby." You giggle softly, then pat the warm spot his body left next to you. "Hurry."

He blows out the candles quickly before sliding into bed with you. His body was resting on top of yours while your fingers massaged his hair.

"Goodnight, (Name). I..." He pauses. "I'm happy you stayed." Nice save.

"Night, baby. I'm happy too.."

Reki wants to save the L word for another time.

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

[thefanficmonster]

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great. 

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point. 

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time. 

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from. 

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about. 

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.” 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

I’ve been rewatching CM and god, what I wouldn’t give for them to bring TG back for this revival. I haven’t even watched seasons 12-15 yet because I’m in denial about him being gone 😭😭😩

omg I haven't watched it either xD I've been holding off watching s11e22, The Storm, for like a month I swear. Which, I know is going to be amazing but I also have heard it's the beginning of the end and I'm not readyyyyyyy.

I would give anything for TG to come back. A n y t h i n g. But idk what CBS feels is the appropriate amount of time to be blacklisted or whatever the hell they did 🤷‍♀️ despite how it would be so easy to write him back in, and the missed opportunities is already making my skin crawl.

Okay. This was going to be a quick answer, but I've been THINKING about this way more than I should lately, without ever having watched 12-15 but I feel like I know enough, and with all the projects I'm going to be finishing/starting soon I know I won’t have time to do anything with my ideas. So I'm just going to type this little beginning I have plotted out and maybe one day I'll make it into the fic I want it to be:

(I know you didn't ask for a hc/blurb thing but surprise you get one xD)

CW: Spoilers for season 11-15 that are probably inaccurate af, fighting, violence, bit of blood and injuries talk, some profanity. 

-

((I legit have this all plotted out like a full season, and picture everything as shots and scenes and I know exactly how I would want to bring Hotch back.))

-

It would start in a small suburban town in Indiana, legit white-picket fence, middle of nowhere, off the grid town. With the most pedestrian name ever, we might as well call it Mayberry. Typical weekend morning, bright green grass and trees and summer sunshine lighting it all up, they still get papers delivered it’s that picturesque. And it’ll pan to all sorts of people on this street of nice, two-story houses, and finally zero in on not the man picking up his paper from his front porch, but the jogger slowing down that the man calls to next door, calling him a name we’ve never heard before -- but the jogger answers with that dark eyed squint and a nod... and it is Aaron Hotchner. Or the man who used to be Aaron Hotchner. He hasn’t gone by that name in years, WITSEC provided him and Jack with new ones.

His house isn’t even really decorated like a home, he’s been in enough over the years to know tell-tale signs of what a happy home should entail. Photographs, memorabilia, nostalgia tucked away in corners -- they don’t have that. He has a couple of photographs he keeps in his office, the only two in inconspicuous view being a photo of Haley and Jack when he was two years old, and a photo of his team the day he completed the FBI triathlon and they all showed up to support him. Everything else of their old life is in boxes in a storage facility in downtown D.C., under another false name that can never be linked back to them. 

Mr. Scratch was a poor excuse for why he and Jack were still under WITSEC, but he hopes near daily that it was enough of a reason that no one would question why he didn’t return once that monster was dead. That no one smart enough to read between the lines would go digging for more reasons, or worse -- try to find him -- and they pictured him living a happy retirement very similar to the charade he is living now. 

But Aaron Hotchner was never meant for retirement. No matter how easy and simple his days have been the past few years. It was only a matter of time. 

He walks through his home that looks more like the insides of a Home Living magazine, to his kitchen which is bright and spacious and tiled white that he knows Haley would have loved, getting a glass of water from the sink and chugging it all in one go. It isn’t until he’s getting a second glass that he hears it. The faucet was supposed to have masked any disturbance, they were careful in when they moved, how they placed their feet, the slowness of the their approach -- but not enough.

Hotch keeps his shoulders relaxed, his spine still ram-rod straight but that’s just how he stands and it keeps tension ready at a moment’s notice. Keeps him on alert, which he needs as he takes slower sips of water and lets all his other sense shift to a heightened awareness. Knows this house like the back of his hand, even if he’s never allowed himself to consider it home, so he knows which floorboards creak and where all the furniture is strategically placed. Always prepared for something like this to happen, even if he never imagined someone would be so bold. 

Their mistake.

With a careful tick of his head, peripherals his only guidance, he strikes before the intruder gets to. An iron grip and momentum that propels their face into the metal of the sink basin, shocking them that what their file was so misleading about their target. Retired FBI agent, almost 60 years old, living in Pleasantville with a picket fence and a vegetable garden. This should have been easy. The intruder is stunned by the blow, attempts a quick recovery where they lash out and get a few good body shots into the older man -- but he’s built like a brick wall, can take a blow and give it back twice as hard -- a few more precise hits and another crack of their face to the sink that shatters the bridge of their nose leaves the attacker slumping to the floor. 

“You didn’t do your research,” Hotch tells them, breathing a little heavy, opening up a drawer usually deemed for junk and pulls out zipties and an ancient looking cell phone buried deep at the back. “Sloppy. I expected more from him.” 

The attacker kicks out Hotch’s knees in a fit of rage (at having his skill set insulted so), leaving them both crashing to the floor. They grapple and fight a bit more, knocking dishes from the counters and pots and pans to the floor from the grill top island, but Hotch is so well-trained in take downs he gets the slighter man pinned with only a split lip and a single hitch in breath. He barely broke a sweat. Knocks the guy out clean, two solid punches to his face, and he stops because he knows better. Has been there before, and they need to question whoever was sent to his house to kill him. 

He’s barely off the floor, the intruder binded and stuck in a corner when Jack walks in from early morning soccer practice. Takes one look at the kitchen, his dad with blood in the corner of his mouth, and the guy all in black bound by zipties and already knows what happened. Sixteen, nearly as tall as his father now, he looks only mildly worried for all of two seconds until he sees that his dad has an old flip cell phone held up to his good ear, awaiting a connection with their handler in Indianapolis. 

“... Does this mean we get to go home?” 

The shot would pan back to Hotch, and he wouldn’t answer him, just tells the person on the phone to ‘patch him through, they have a situation’, and there would be no very obvious look in answer to Jack’s question. But all of us who know him, know the subtle changes in expression and the slight softening to that stern frown, knows what his reply would have been.

-

The very next scene would be the BAU. JJ and Emily walking at a brisk pace covering a debrief, since they basically run the department now. Everyone has been called in, everyone, retired and moved away and even the ones who cut all ties have been contacted. JJ has just gotten off the phone with Elle, who is working as a liaison in Rome and assured her that if anyone showed up in her home to attack her that they would be leaving in a body bag. But she appreciated the heads up. 

In the bullpen it’s more like a family reunion than anything. Garcia has just gotten off the elevators, a flurry of color and blonde curls and bright as ever, Morgan and Savannah are trying to corral Hank and the twins (both girls and pure chaos now that they can walk) while still making introductions with the new team and their families, and asking if Reid or Rossi know anything about what’s going on as JJ gets there and asks for everyone’s attention. 

“Not everyone is here yet, Kate and her family are on their way from upstate, Will’s getting the boys from school, and Alex and her husband are on a plane, but we need to get started as soon as possible.”

“What’s is going on, JJ?” Morgan asks, passing off one of the twins to Penelope who is in full baby fever mode despite what is obviously a very bad circumstance that has brought them all together. It’s a juxtaposition that has put everyone on edge. It doesn’t help when JJ and Emily look at each other as if in confirmation, trying to decide who is going to tell them.

“Okay, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Rossi points out. “What happened?”

Emily sighs and makes a gesture for JJ to take the floor, since she has been on point for most of this.

The bull pen is silent in anticipation.

“Earlier this morning, Hotch was attacked in his home in Indiana,” she says, and whatever anyone thought was going on -- that wasn’t it. The shock across the room is like a bomb has detonated.

Rossi curses something out in Italian, looking down, and JJ immediately realizes how this all sounds. But doesn’t even get to backtrack as Reid looks completely devastated and Garcia like she’s about to cry and everyone else starts shouting questions at her. 

“What happened to Jack?”

“How did they even find him? What the fuck is wrong with WITSEC?!”

“Is he okay?” asks Tara, the only intellectual who can see the panic now blooming on JJ’s face.

“Yes, yes! He’s okay, sorry, no -- Hotch is fine. The guy who tried to kill him... not so much, but he should be conscious soon so they can question him.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Morgan says looking like he just aged ten years in the past 30 seconds. “Lead with that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. He’s okay, Jack is okay, they’ve been picked up. But... there’s a lot we need to be filled in on,” she admits, which quiets the room once more. “Apparently, the WITSEC had nothing to do with Mr. Scratch. There’s something much bigger and more dangerous going on, and he went under to keep us all safe. As well as himself, and Jack.” 

“What is it?”

JJ makes a gesture with her hands splayed as she looks a little lost. “I only know bare bones, we have to wait to hear the specifics and get everyone somewhere safe.” 

“You think we’re going to trust WICSEC after this?!”

Emily intervenes this time, “We have a plan, or... Hotch has a plan, I think. We’re just learning about everything as we go, he’s really the one that knows the most about it.”

“Then where is he?” Morgan speaks up again. “If he’s been pulled out, and we’re all in danger, why isn’t he here explaining this to us himself?” 

It’s a good question, and everyone looks expectantly at the two women leading the informal briefing. 

“Will he come back at all?” Reid asks, speaking up for the first time. It’s been years, that’s a long time to rethink a life like the BAU, and everything it entails.

JJ takes a deep breath. “He’s... in--”

“Out-processing.” 

Hotch is at the back of the room. Everyone turns to him, even JJ and Emily look surprised to see him so soon.  ((But we all know the CM cinematography love that kind of return shot, so I’m catering to it. For situational parallels if nothing else. Imagine the gif sets.))

“I pushed it as fast as they could go, but WITSEC always drags their feet.” The familiar drone, dry barely-there-humor, breaks whatever spell that had been over the room at the sight of the old Unit Chief. Disbelief and relief and stunned surprise litter every expression, and although Penelope looks like the first to say something, her words change course just as she opens her mouth. Because  Hotch is still in civilian clothes, a duffle-bag over his shoulder he used as a go-bag for decades, and beside him with a bag of his own with messy dirty blonde hair is--

“Oh my God, is that Jack!?” she near sobs, the teenager smiling at her in a way that looks so much like Haley, and she goes to hug him first with the boy meeting her halfway. “You’re so tall! And so grown up, look at you!” There’s definitely tears and the team converges on the Hotchners all at once. Reid hugs Hotch first, as tight and bone-crushing as that night in Atlanta all those years ago, followed soon after by Rossi who looks like he might shake the man but just hugs him tight and plants an absurdly embarrassing kiss on his cheek that finally cracks Hotch’s expression into something like a smile. Everyone hugs, everyone, Savannah calls him Aaron instead of Hotch because that was how he’d introduced himself all those years ago, the twins wave shyly and he shakes hands with the newer members that never got to meet him but have heard very tall tales about him for years and years. 

(And y’all, it would be the best damn scene and I would sob like a baby watching it.)

Morgan would be the one that would hold back and let the others go first, but it would also be the most profound when Hotch goes to shake his hand and the other man uses that to pull him into a tight hug of his own. 

“I’m glad you can still hold your own,” he’ll tease with nearly no heat behind it. Hotch hears it for the caring that it is.

“Like hell I would let that happen twice in my own home,” he assures him. 

Everyone settles down, and Emily leads some finer points of what’s going to happen with everyone in the next few hours. Days. Weeks, even, because there’s no knowing what is going to happen next. Hotch observes her, and there HAS to be a shot where she glances over to him and they share a look of understanding -- because she is Unit Chief now, and he approves of what he sees. 

But she turns the floor over to him, and Hotch explains what’s going on.

((I’m going to leave the finer points out about the case and the unsub, mostly because I haven’t finished ironing them out yet and I hope once I watch the remaining season I will be able to much more easily))

But at SOME POINT in the briefing, when Hotch is explaining what happened with the assassin in his home and how he apprehended him, and Emily maybe interjects with the injuries sustained and that they are still waiting for the man to regain consciousness. Penelope will 100% lean over to where Jack is sitting beside her and say without flinching, “Your dad is such a bad ass.”

((I also plan on bringing up Reid was in prison in this scene but it will be more humorous than anything because of Hotch’s reaction, stay tuned on that one. Again I’m not there yet))

((and where I’m taking them is also a secret because I need to do research and it will be so damn cool, but Hotch has everything completely planned out -- like he does. Goes as far as asking the few who question him “Secure enough for you?” when he drops where they will be staying and the protection they will have. Full blown mic drop moment.))

“So gather all of your belongings that you have here. Secure pets and homes, call the kid’s schools, whatever you need to do,” Hotch informs them, stepping back into his old shoes as team leader without even meaning to. But no one tells him to stop. “We need to be in the air ASAP, the jet is being prepped as we speak so we need to move on this.”

He leaves it at that, and everyone doesn’t move. Watching, waiting, smirking a little bit (Penelope, maybe even Reid), until he gives in.

“Wheels up in 30.”

Garcia giggles so much she near cackles with it. “Oh, I just got goosebumps!” And by Emily’s smirk and Morgan’s shared grin with Reid, a million watts between them, everyone is up and moving and pulling out cell phones to get their affairs in order.

Rossi sidles up to Hotch at that point, also openly smirking that they got him to say those four time-honored words. “Welcome back, Aaron.”

And Hotch, well -- he looks around the room at the family he had to leave behind without any hope of seeing them again, and feels every hardened edge in his face and demeanor soften. Before he looks to Dave and tells him what’s been going through his head ever since he walked back through the doors of the BAU.

“It’s good to be home.”

((END SCENE))

[himaboroshi736]

IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

 Peter Parker has anxiety 

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope 

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

or

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety 

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

or

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider 

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker 

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting 

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark 

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

--

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope 

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’  

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf 

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider 

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

or

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark 

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark 

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1 

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark 

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal 

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank 

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi 

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider 

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope 

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer 

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya 

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt. 7

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

AN: Tick Tock goes the clock. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

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

The buzzing of his phone is what woke Spencer up. He grumbled, fumbling around his bedside table for the source of the noise.

“Hello?”

“Agent Reid?” A vaguely familiar voice asked, “I’m sorry to wake you but I didn’t know who to call and I-“

“What’s going on?” Spencer interrupted, sitting up quickly as he recognized the voice of one of Hotch’s cleared agents.

“I’m on watch at the park this morning and I think something’s wrong. There’s a note and a clear bag full of stuff but no body, and we’ve been here all night. Hotch took the others to meet the director. He said to call you if anything happened.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, my partner’s with me, she’s checking the bushes.” He explained. Vaguely, Spencer could hear the rustling of the partner in the background, “Agent Reid I don’t know what to do here….”

Doctor. The voice in his head corrected instinctively, but he kept quiet, already three steps ahead. Today was the day your stalker was supposed to drop off his next body. Everybody would be on high alert, especially you. If Hotch had gone to the director he must’ve been expecting a pretty serious escalation, and that made Spencer nervous. He glanced out into the lounge, to where he knew you were curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

“Okay, wait there. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He explained, pulling on the first clothes he could find and strapping on his firearm belt, “Just keep the perimeter clear and make sure no one gets in and out, alright?”

“Alright.”

Spencer got ready as fast as he could, running through every possible scenario in his head as the adrenaline started to slowly creep in. He slowly snuck through the living room, smiling softly as he noticed your sleeping form huddled under a pile of blankets. There was something tender about the way you looked then, something different to all the times he’d seen you fall asleep on the jet. Here, you were completely unguarded, comfortable and soft, and it made Spencer absurdly proud to know that he’d made you feel safe enough for that. For a moment he considered waking you up, but he remembered the dark bags under your eyes and the way your shoulders drooped with exhaustion and he decided against it. You’d been going through hell, and you deserved to sleep. Plus, he rationalized as he opened the door and snuck out, it’s not like you could come with him anyway. There was no need to worry you.

Spencer sighed, pushing all thoughts of you to the back of his mind as he forced himself to focus on the case.

——————————-

You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you tried very hard to look busy, fiddling with a completed report as you walked through your master plan one last time. Your eyes flickered to Spencer as he talked animatedly with JJ about something you couldn’t really hear. He leaned back against the desk, casually tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and crossing his arms over his chest. The sleeves of his read sweater and shirt were rolled up above his elbows and you couldn’t help but glance at his exposed forearms and hands. Spencer’s hands were...unfairly attractive. Truly, truly unfairly attractive. The kind of attractive that made doing your job really difficult and made you wonder what exactly was going on with you. His hands, Y/N? You asked yourself, his hands? Really? Get it together man.

But it was too late, you were completely and utterly smitten. You knew it, your friends knew it, the lady at the coffee shop knew it. You were pretty sure every living person in Virginia knew it, except Spencer. Hopefully. Hopefully Spencer didn’t know, yet at least.

Just then you heard him laugh and your nerves intensified. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and forget this stupid plan and everything would go on as normal. You could do normal, right?

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Morgan greeted, “what’re you doing here so late?”

You flushed, “Oh I-you know-“ you let out a breathy laugh, “just finishing off some work.”

He raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, but let the matter drop, pulling you into a right side hug, “Alright, Y/L/N, keep your secrets. You know I’ll find out, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re relentless, I know,” you smiled back, “seriously Morgs, I’m all good.”

He nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Okay. I’ll see you, kid.”

You waved him off, feeling a familiar pinch of guilt in the pit of your stomach as he vanished off into the elevator. Out of the corner of your eye you saw JJ step away from Spencer and you took a deep breath, steeling every last bit of nerve you had.

“Hey, Spence, can you wait for a minute?” You called, hoping you didn’t sound quite as nervous as you felt.

Spencer cocked his head to the side, but gave you a small smile, “Sure, Y/N/N, what’s up?”

You took another deep breath, fighting the urge to look away or fiddle with your bag, “I was-um-what’re you doing tomorrow?”

Spencer thought for the briefest moment before answering, “Tomorrow? I’ve got a report to do and some cold cases to go over and then I was just going to go home and read a few books. Why?”

You flushed. This was it. This was the moment you’d been hyping yourself up for all week.

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe want to go see a movie or something?” You asked all in one breath, forcing yourself to meet his eye.

Spencer frowned, “A movie? Y/N, you know I don’t have a DVD player.”

“No!” You quickly corrected with a nervous laugh, as your heart rate doubled, “No, Wise Guy, I meant with me, like at a cinema. There’s a foreign film festival in town I thought you might like.” You paused and then continued, “And maybe after we could get dinner, or coffee or something? If you’d like.

You waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming. For a long while Spencer just stared at you, opening and closing his mouth like a confused goldfish. Every second that he was silent, your heart sank just a little further and you felt your skin start to burn with embarrassment.

“Y/N-“ Spencer started.

Your eyes were pricking with tears of embarrassment, but you blinked them away, quickly shoving your last few possessions into your bag and forcing a smile.

“It’s cool. I get it,” you said quickly, “No hard feelings, but I had to try. See you, Reid.”

You vaguely heard him call your name again, just once, but you ignored him, rushing through the bullpen faster than you’d ever gone before. You wanted to scream, or rip your face off, or curl up in a ball and die, but you could do that here. Not with Spencer’s eyes still boring into your back like a drill. The elevator door closed and you slid to the ground, burying your face in your knees as the suppressed tears slid down your cheek.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the first number you could think, “Morgs? Are you and ‘Nel still at her apartment?” You asked, sniffing, “Can I come?”

————————————-

When you woke up you had the vague impression that you’d been sad recently. It was a fleeting impression, gone as soon as you registered it, but it confused you and set an odd tone for the day. You looked around, remembering the previous night and the conversation you’d had with Spencer, and smiled gently. You’d never thought that you’d be able to be friends with Spencer again, not after your disastrous attempt at asking him out. Ugh, just the thought made you cringe with embarrassment. But he’d forgiven you, it seemed. Or at least he hadn’t brought it up or acted weird and uncomfortable with you, which was a relief.

“Morning, Doctor Reid,” you called, “what’re you making me for breakfast?”

The only answer was silence. You sat up, letting your blanket fall away.

“Spencer?” You called again, “Are you home?”

Again, no answer. Just then, your phone rang and you answered.

“Hey, ‘Nel, is Spence with you?” You asked quickly.

“Sugar Plum!” She greeted, “You’re up.”

Despite yourself, you smiled, “I know, it’s miraculous. Is he at the office?”

“Nope,” Penelope answered, “he’s not on duty today. Well, he is but not like, FBI duty, he’s on Y/N duty. He’s not with you?”

“No,” you admitted, strolling through the apartment to double check, “looks like he left in a hurry.”

“Maybe he went to get breakfast or coffee or something,” Penelope suggested, “you know he doesn’t tend to keep actual people food in his lair.”

You worried at the inside of your cheek, a nagging worry still sitting in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed it down.

“You’re probably right,” you sighed, “can you ask Hotch if he’s seen him just in case?”

“Sure thing, hun. Him and Emily are right here.”

“Okay, thanks ‘Nel, let me know if you hear from him?” You asked.

“But of course, mon ami,” she agreed, “and if anything comes up in the case I’ll call.”

You put the phone down and shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever funk you were in. It wasn’t abnormal for Spencer to leave to get coffee without telling anyone, and it was just like him to do something sweet like going to get breakfast for you both. But it wasn’t like him to leave without waking you, especially not with what was going on.

“Stop it,” you told yourself, “stop worrying. He’s fine. It’s fine.”

So you forced yourself to behave normally. You made coffee, brushed your teeth, pulled on a set of fresh clothes and perused Spencer’s extensive library, picking a book and settling onto the couch. More time passed. More time, the clock tick tick ticking away the minutes. Pretty soon it was obvious that Spencer wasn’t getting coffee, and then your anxiety spiked. For a long while you just stared at a random page in the book, not absorbing anything whatsoever as your mind raced.

Your phone beeped and you grabbed it frantically, relaxing when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen.

“Spence,” you sighed with relief as soon as you picked up the phone, “oh my god I was so worried. Where the hell are you?”

For a second there was just heavy breathing and then, frantically “Y/N don’t-“

“If you want to see Spencer Reid alive again, meet me at the address I’ve programmed into your car’s GPS,” a robotic voice said, “come alone. If you tell anyone where you’re going, I’ll kill him. If you bring back up, I’ll kill him. If you don’t show up, I’ll kill him. You have twenty minutes.”

You felt like the world had stopped spinning, like the floor had dropped out from under you and you were free falling into empty space. There were chills running up your spine and your heart pounded like an anvil in your fragile rib cage. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer, it pounded. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. How had he gotten him? You were living your worst nightmare in real time. You saw the mutilated body in your bookstore, the gruesome crime scene photos on Rossi’s crime boards. Was that Spencer now? Was he dead because of you? You imagined him lying on the ground, helpless and bleeding out, his deep brown eyes lifeless and still and, without meaning to, a whimper ripped itself from your throat.

“He’s alive.” You told yourself firmly, “He’s still alive.”

You could barely think. You were in a kind of fugue state. Nothing but pure instinct and muscle memory got you into your car and onto the road and the first cognitive thought you had, as you got closer and closer to the destination, was that you would never be making this return trip. This type of stalker would never let you go, never. He’d never let Spencer go. He’d kill himself and both of you before he let you slip out of his grasp again. This was his endgame for some reason, and you were playing right into it. But what else could you do? He had you in the palm of his hand. The fact was, no matter what you wanted or thought or knew, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for Spencer Reid, nothing you wouldn’t risk. You would walk into hell and back for him, and that was that.

Somewhere along the drive you accepted your death. You would not make the return trip, and that was okay. You would die sometime soon, but so would this monster. He would kill you, and you’d use your last moments of strength to take the son of a bitch down with you. He wouldn’t get the chance to hurt anyone else, you promised yourself. No matter what happened, you would be his last victim. You would find a way to save Spencer too, you repeated to yourself again and again. You wouldn’t make the drive home, but Spencer would. You would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

The GPS announced that you had arrived at your destination, an old house on the outskirts of a quiet suburb. You took a moment in the car to breathe, tightening your knuckles on the steering wheel. You ached to just call Penelope, to tell her everything and let the team rescue you. Oh God, your friends. How would they feel when they found your body? After all the work they’d done to keep you safe, here you were throwing it all away. On a whim, you grabbed your phone and sent a quick group message.

From Y/N Y/L/N

Thank you for everything. I love you all so much

Short, sweet, not even nearly enough. You’d meant to say more, you’d always meant to say more, but you’d thought you had years. Two tears slipped down your cheek as you stepped out of the car, leaving your keys in the ignition so that Spencer would have a way to get away when it was all over. There was an FBI sedan parked in the driveway, but at this point you didn’t care much about the profile. All that mattered was getting this over with.

Luckily your stalker hadn’t specified that you couldn’t bring a gun. You drew your weapon, but didn’t bother with stealth, striding straight into the house with a single minded focus.

“I’m here,” you called, “where are you?”

You heard the sound of shuffling coming from a back room, a fist connecting with something solid and you bit back a whimper.

“We’re in here,” Spencer said, his voice tinged with pain.

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears but you kept your trigger finger steady. Despite the terror, you were trained for this. You would not fail. Before you stepped into the room, you felt a tinge of panic. You weren’t ready for this. You weren’t ready to face the man who’s caused all this, but you had to. You had to. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, calming yourself down and schooling your features into something serene. You had to focus on not escalating the situation, that was your best shot at keeping Spencer alive.

“You can do this,” you whispered, to yourself, “you can do this.”

And, with that, you stepped into the room, “FBI, put your hands in the air.”

—————————

“Y/N,” a familiar voice greeted with an almost breathless excitement, “I was worried that you wouldn’t come.”

You felt bile rise in your throat, “Agent Connolly?”

“I knew you remembered me!” Rick Connolly cheered, the barrel of a handgun pressed to Spencer’s temple.

Your heart pinched at the sight, but you tried not to let the fear show up in your face. Rick Connolly had worked at the BAU for longer than you had. It made a sick sort of sense, the worst kind. He’d been on cases with you, written up paperwork with you, helped with filing. His background checks were always clean, there’d never been any complaints against him. Never. He was a good agent, a reliable ally for the BAU. No matter what happened, Agent Rick Connolly was always close by.

“Of course I remember you, Connolly,” you said with a forced smile, “how could I possibly forget you?”

“Rick.” He insisted, “It’s Rick.”

“Rick, of course, sorry-“

“You call him Spencer,” Connolly interrupted, pressing the barrel of the gun into Spencer’s temple harder and snarling down at him, “not Reid, Spencer. I heard it when he called you.”

“Hey, hey hey,” you said quickly, lowering your gun and raising your hands, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake, of course I should call you Rick. I mean, Spencer is just a work colleague, right? But you’re so much more.”

His eyes lit up with a perverse hope, “I am. I love you more than any of them. I’ve done more for you than any of them. I did all of it, all of it!”

“I know, thank you,” you replied, forcing another gentle smile, “for doing all of that. For loving me like you do.”

You could feel Spencer’s eyes on you, watching you like you were a lifeline, or like he was scared he’d never see you again, but you kept your eyes on Rick.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back.

“But, now that I’m here,” you tried gently, “now that you’ve got my attention and I know how much you love me, why don’t you let Spencer go, hm? That way we can be alone.”

Rick frowned, “Let-let him-? No! No way!” He tightened his grip again and Spencer groaned with pain, “Don’t you see? He needs to die. He’s trying to keep us apart! He wants you gone for good.”

You shook his head, feeling the rising panic, “No he doesn’t, Rick. Reid is my friend, he would never try and keep us apart, right Reid?”

For a moment Spencer was silent, swaying on his feet, but he managed to nod his head and get out a small, “She’s right.”

“YOU’RE A LIAR!” Rick yelled, cocking the gun.

“No!” You screamed, forcing Rick’s attention back to you, “Rick, I don’t understand. I don’t understand why he needs to die. I understand the rest, but I’m still confused. Can-would you be able to explain it to me?”

Rick looked confused for a moment, his gaze jumping between you and Spencer. You held your breath, praying you hadn’t overplayed your hand, only relaxing when he turned back to face you.

“He,” he started, gesturing the gun at Spencer, “got you shot. He let you walk into an active bomber situation alone,” he explained, “he spent years nearly getting you killed and then, when he saw our love, he made you leave! He wants you to be alone and miserable! He wants me to be alone!”

You tried to process the rush of information as quickly as you could, latching onto the first advantage you could find.

“Spencer didn’t make me leave,” you said.

“He did! I saw it! You asked him to go out and he turned you down! He lead you on and then he rejected you, so you left!” Rick yelled, “You thought you were alone, you both did, but I was there, watching. I was always watching. I had to keep you safe, I had to make sure you were protected.”

Spencer whimpered, his shoulders slumping with defeat, as though he’d been found out, and you looked at them both, confused. What on earth were they on about?

You felt the realization click, and your eyes widened with surprise “Oh Rick, oh no you misunderstood.” You started. You stepped closer, keeping your hands raised to show that you weren’t a threat, “You’re right, Spencer did say no when I asked him out, but I’d already resigned by then. I was going to tell him that night but I didn’t get the chance. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine.”

———————————

Spencer was in pain. Deep, aching, throbbing pain. He was pretty sure he had at least one cracked rib, maybe more, and the swift punches to his stomach had knocked the wind right out of his chest. His head was heavy and thick with confusion and, without the strong arm holding him up, he would’ve collapsed onto the floor. Everything in Spencer’s body screamed for an end to the pain. But that was nothing compared to the sick, heavy weight of guilt that hit him when he saw your face. He’d brought you here, you’d come for him. He’d let himself get caught, he’d fucked up. He’d put you in danger when you’d trusted him, but God, he was relieved to see you. And he hated himself for that.

You were beautiful. So so so beautiful. Had he ever told you that? Even with your face set into a mask of calm and determination, you were radiant. Wait, what? He thought to himself, what’re you thinking? Your eyes flickered over to him with a subtle note of concern. Focus, Spencer, he told himself, what did she just say?

His captor seemed confused. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another, looking between the two of you like you were a particularly frustrating puzzle.

“What-what does that-why are you saying this?” Rick asked loudly, lifting the gun to point it at you, “Why’re you saying this?”

You flinched, but stayed calm, “Because it’s the truth. Spencer isn’t the reason I left, he had nothing to do with it. Spencer wants us to be together, that’s why he brought me here.”

You spoke to Rick in a low, soothing voice like he was a wild animal and, as you spoke you were creeping closer and closer. Spencer tracked your movement with his eyes, noticing that you’d shifted your gun belt to be on the side closer to Spencer. It wasn’t an accident.

“Rick, baby,” you crooned, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much, but you don’t need to do it anymore. I’m here now, I’m yours. Let’s get out of here, just you and me, before anyone else arrives.”

“You want that?” Rick asked.

“Of course I do,” you said, with a sweet laugh, “but that gun is scaring me. Can we put it away and let Spencer go so that we can go?”

There was a long pause. Rick looked like he was in a trance, staring at you like you were a walking daydream. Your eyes flickered to Spencer and softened for just a second. Just a brief moment of acknowledgment, almost as though you simply couldn’t help yourself. You were close enough now that Spencer could smell your perfume, which was lucky because, right then, Rick’s dreamy look vanished and he began lifting his gun and pointing it right at you.

“LIAR!” He yelled.

Spencer heard the unmistakable pop of a gunshot, but he had no time to check where it had landed. Instead he lunged forward, grabbed your gun and, in a moment of instinct, pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Rick’s right shoulder. Rick dropped his gun and, in an instant Spencer was on his back, immobilizing him with the pair of cuffs you handed him and rendering him harmless. For a long moment there was just silence as Spencer stared down at the man who had tricked him, savoring the moment of victory until it was broken by a pained gasp. His stomach sank. The bullet, the bullet, where was the bullet Rick had fired?

“Oh my God.” You said breathlessly, sinking down against the nearest wall as blood started to stain your crisp white button down, “Fuck.”

The blood was coming from your abdomen, from a hole just left of your naval that you were pressing your sleeve against in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Your cheeks glistened with tears as you fought not to tense up despite the pain and Spencer felt, for the first time that day, true unadulterated panic.

“No, no no no no,” he said quickly, rushing to your side and gripping your free hand with his, “hey, look at me, we’re gonna be alright. Just keep your eyes open. Stay with me.”

You breathed out slowly through your mouth, “Don’t worry, doc,” you replied through gritted teeth, “ ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Spencer tried to assess the situation, but there was too much panic and adrenaline and fear in his system, and all he could see was the tender way you looked at him, and how you’d smiled the night before. His hands were shaking even where they held yours, and his eyes pricked with suppressed tears. You needed a hospital. You needed surgery and he couldn’t save you. He couldn’t carry you without making you bleed out, and he didn’t even know where you were. He was helpless.

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you said softly, “I never-I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Spencer laughed incredulously, even though nothing had been less funny in his entire life, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You saved us,” he squeezed your hand and was rewarded with a weak smile from you, “you always save us,” he continued, even more gently, “Rick was right about that. You’ve been saving me for years.”

“And you've saved me right back,” you pointed out, your voice heavy with the effort of keeping your eyes open.

Spencer pressed his lips together, tears pouring down his cheek as he fought back sobs and silently prayed to a God he’d never believed in for some kind of miracle.

“But I can’t save you now,” he sobbed.

“No, but we can,” a third, familiar voice answered.

If Spencer had been any less shocked, he would have laughed at the timing of it all. As it was, he just stared into the eyes of his team as though he wasn’t sure they were real.

“MEDIC! We need a medic in here.” Derek Morgan continued, appearing in the doorway like the miracle he was and instantly taking control of the situation.

He scooped you up like you weighed nothing, carrying you out through the doorway just as Emily helped Spencer to his feet and slung his arm around her shoulders to help support his weight. Somewhere in the background Spencer could hear Hotch reading Connolly his rights, and Rossi making some comment about Rick wishing it had been a kill shot. Everything felt surreal, like some sort of fantasy or a hallucination he’d created to keep from having to lose you again, but he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

“Y/N,” he said softly as Emily handed him off to a nearby medic in the back of a waiting ambulance, “I need to see, Y/N. Please, is she alive?”

The medic gave him a sympathetic smile, bundling him onto a gurney, “I can’t let you see her, sir. They’re taking her straight to surgery.”

“But she’s alive?” Spencer insisted as the paramedics fussed and flitted around him.

The original medic nodded, “For now, she’s alive.”

----------------------- 

Taglist:  @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking, @must-be-a-weasley-92, @whovianayesha,  @holding-on-to-my-youth, @quie-pls, @fear-less-write-more, @astraea-writes, @mac99martin, @levylovegood, @easygoingtheatre, @purpleraindrops, @eevee0722, @bisexualdisaster106, @sgold, @openheart12, @poisondragon, @martinafigoli, @ellegreenawayapologist, @jasongideonapologist, @url-under-construction 

[virgostann]

What a feeling

Lee Bodecker Series (6)

Warnings- No spoilers for “the devil all the time”, 18+ topics, language, smut, angst, sensitive topics, abuse, sexual assault

(if you’re not comfortable with any of these please do not read)

Summary- A women, Scarlett Clare, is running away from her past and the danger that she is connected to. She wasn’t planning on coming across the town of Knockemstiff nor meeting the Sheriff and getting on his radar.

SMUT ALERT..

I bumped my hip into the bar counter, hissing at the pain as I felt I’ve been shot. I stood hunched over for a couple seconds before I heard the bell ring- signaling we had customers.

I had been eyeing the cruisers outside the diner for about ten minutes. A cop sat in each car and was busy doing stuff either in a book or a computer.

My eyes widened for a split second as the pair of officers walked into a booth on MY side of the diner. “Fucking great” I mumbled as I grabbed my pen and note pad from my apron pocket. “Hello gentlemen, what can I do for you?” I smiled. One of them eyed me as I took down their orders and I looked up at him as I felt his stare, I awkwardly smiled and he snapped out of his gaze. “My apologies..you look so familiar” he spoke, “oh I don’t know a plain face like mine, maybe not” I joked and I walked back into the kitchen.

“What was that about, darlin” I heard as I almost made it to the kitchen area. “Uh nothing Lee, I’ll get your coffee” I smiled quickly. It was busy to say the least.

After Lee had gotten his coffee, he made his way over to the other officers and they began talking. I was on edge my entire shift, I made myself busy so I avoided the authority in this dinner. 

Finally, my shift was over and I sped walked all the way to my apartment. 

* 2 weeks later *

I had made my way down to a bookstore on the opposite side of town. I was beyond bored and needed something to entertain myself.

As I walked along the sidewalk my eyes caught a slip of paper stapled to a wooden light post. I snatched up the white sheet and saw my face plastered on it. “Oh my fuck” I cursed and ditched the thought of the bookstore. I ran and ran, If they had my picture in town, then Lee definitely knew. 

The sun was starting to set as I arrived to the apartment building. My eyes scanned the perimeter and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the coast was clear. 

After a much needed shower, I made some tea and sat down on my couch. I closed my eyes and rested my head back. A knock on my door interrupted the peace of the small apartment. 

“Open up Darlin’ we need to chat” My heart started racing as I heard the voice. I stood up in a frenzy, my first instinct was to climb down the window and run but this whole mess wasn’t my fault. I was defending myself. I took a breathe and opened the door.

“Now you gon’ tell me what this is about” Lee spoke, holding up the ‘wanted’ sheet with my face on it. “Lee I can explain” I mumbled, “I knew there was something off, a pretty one like you doesn’t just stumble into this town cus they like it. No, there was somethin’ off and I knew it once them officers were at that damn dinner.” He kinda looked mad and I wasn’t about to piss him off more. So I sat him down and I told him the truth.  

Flashback

“Honey, dinner is ready” I spoke as I shuffled into the kitchen with some bread sticks. “The bread smells really good, it’s a new recipe I tried out” I smiled as I brought out the last few things I had prepared. 

I felt a pair of hands on my waist and a kiss being pressed to my cheek. I smelt the strong scent of alcohol right away. I rolled my eyes as I pulled the hands off me and sat down to eat. He grumbled lowly at my reaction and the dinner was eaten in silence. He stepped away as I cleaned up and washed our dishes. “C’mon what’s gotten into you now” his voice entered the once quiet kitchen. I sighed, “don’t start please” tears welled in my eyes as I knew where this was going. “What do you mean Claire, I can’t touch my wife??” he threw his hands up an amused expression on his face. 

“You’re drunk you asshole!” I said, wiping my hands off on a towel. “You’re not going to raise your voice at me” he boomed, And... there’s the snap. I rolled my eyes, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, I don’t take commands from no man” I spit and that’s when his hand made contact with my cheek. I didn’t let any tears fall as I held it together. He grabbed my chin, pressing his lips onto my in a hard and forcing way. “No..get the fuck,,OFF! I spoke, pushing him away from me. He grabbed my arm and I wiggled out of his grasp, never in a million years would I have thought he would charge at me the way he did. 

My eyes widened as I ran into the living room, he was faster with his strides and grabbed a fist full of my hair. I screamed out in pain and turned around sending a punch into his cheek. He grunted letting me go for a second and I booked it into the kitchen once more. My eyes scanned around for anything to defend myself with, I grabbed a shiny black pan on my left. When I heard his footsteps behind me I swung the pan and made contact with his face.

I dropped it as my eyes widened at what I had done. I thought I killed him. I was a murderer now. I stepped over his body and ran into the bedroom packing whatever shit could fit in a duffle bag. 

End Flashback

“I did nothing wrong, Lee. I was protecting myself.” I said, eyeing his face as he just sat there with a blank expression. I had no idea I would end up having a heart to heart with Lee Bodecker but here we were. “So you came here of all places?” he questioned, kind of amused. My heart raced as I started getting angry at his disregard for seriousness. “Lee” I sighed, “Okay darlin’, if you just give me his name I can see what I can do” he spoke. “No we-we can’t, I don’t want him to know where I am Lee, if he’s still alive even after-” I started to panic. “Hey It’s alright doll, I’m here. Don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’” he pulled me into him. 

I looked up at him, I notice the twinkle in his blue eyes and I immediately just feel myself in a daze. Thoughts ran through my mind of that one night in the hallway. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and he knew I was thinking about it as the smirk appeared on his face.

-

My back hit the pillows with his body hovering above mine. He grunted as I pressed my body tighter to his own and I grinded against him. I felt the bulge grow and I smiled into the kiss. His eyes full of lust as we made eye contact. I discarded my clothes and watched in a daze as he made his way down in between my legs.

“Don’t be a tease” I panted and his face looked up with a genuine smile. I couldn’t help but smile back, what the fuck was going on?!? His lips kissed my inner thigh and I threw my head back onto my pillows. “Ohh god” I moaned as he licked up and down my slit, my eyes closing once he put my sensitive nub in his mouth and sucked. My hands went into his hair, holding him down closer and I felt like I was going to loose it when his tongue entered. He then took his finger and traced along my arousal, then slowly entering and pumping. “Lee, don’t stop” I mumbled and my eyes rolling as he added another finger and curved them inside me. His mouth and fingers now working on me, faster with every noise that slips past my lips. 

My legs shake around his head as he brings me to my first orgasm. I throw my head back as I try to control my breathing. I hear his clothing thump onto the floor and his hands spreading my legs. “You want it darlin’” he mumbles, watching his cock spread through my arousal and slowly popping the head into my hole. “You’re so wet for me” He spoke as his eyes met mine, I whimpered at the feeling. “You want me to fuck you, hmm” he said, “yes..sir” I said, that word taking me back. 

“OH fuck yes” I moaned as every thrust hit further in me. His grunts matched my moans and his hand moving up to grab onto my wrists, holding them above my head. “Such a good girl, look at this” he said as my eyes trailed down to where my pussy swallowed his cock.

“Lee fuck, I’m close” I groaned, “hold it” he grunted as he pumped me at a fast pace. “I-I can’t Lee, ah my god” I almost shrieked at the feeling of clenching around him. “Let go, that’s it. All over my cock, baby” he said as my high hit and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I couldn’t form any words as my body shook underneath him. Quickly, he grabbed onto the headboard and pounded in me. I grunted and moaned as he chased his own release. Then he suddenly stilled inside me and I felt his warmth fill me. 

“On all fours. Now.” he said. I got on my hands and knees, facing my head board. “Look at us darlin’, such a cute pair huh?” he pulled me to his front, kissing my head as we saw our reflection in the headboard mirror. He slipped inside me once more, going slow at first and caressing my body. 

He picked up his pace and pulled me up against him, his hand going to my throat as we watched in the mirror. His lips kissing down my neck and leaving little love bites. I brought my hands behind his back and held him to me tighter as he continued to hit it from the back. I moaned out as I felt myself clenching around him and that coil in my stomach forming. 

“Fuck I’m going to--” I moaned out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot in me. “Not yet” he grunted as he pushed my face down in my pillows and started going faster. My moans were getting louder and louder. It felt like a sauna in the bedroom. 

My hair was in his fist but not to where it would hurt me. I clenched around him and heard him let out a moan. “Fuck Scar” he said under his breathe. My body let go on its own, not being able to take any more. He groans from behind me as his thrusts got sloppier and he lets go with a couple curse words and my name.

He pulls me to his side as we lay on the bed trying to catch out breathe. I yawn and turn my body to rest my head on his chest. I closed my eyes as I felt a kiss planted on my temple.

Taglist: @melli0112 @charmed-asylum​

[just-a-fangirl13]

MacGyver fanfic

So this is my attempt at a MacGyver fanfic based on the spoiler we got from the MacGyver writers about Mac and Riley getting unexpectedly linked in season 5. (No this does not have anything to do with handcuffs this is just something I would like to see play out.😂)

I know it's kinda long but I hope you like it anyways.

I WOULD RECOMMEND LISTENING TO ARMOUR BY LANDON AUSTIN in the background for added effect...(I am weird I know😂)

(P.S. please ignore any typos...)

spoilers for. season 1-4.

*this takes place a six months after Mac and Desi have broken up. Bozer and Mac are spending time with each other playing video games at Mac’s flat after a long mission. They hadnt got a call from Matty about a new one just yet. So they were making the most of it after ages.*

“So Mac when are you getting back to dating?” Bozer asked. He was happy that Mac was finally doing better emotionally but he was worried Mac was going to spend the rest of his life building carbon scrubbers and car engines out of blenders, alone. He knew Riley and Mac would be perfect together but saying anything upfront would just end with Mac closing up like a clam shell and not dealing with his feelings. He knew better than to try and get involved.

He did have a plan though. He was going to convince Mac to try out this new dating app called Link’d. It was basically like every other dating app only difference..? It narrowed matches down by people you might have crossed paths with and you also have no idea who your date is until you get to a restaurant the app picked for you. The app reduced any possibility of being stood up or judged because you had no idea what the other person looked like and so no one ever lied. Bozer had already told Riley to try it out but he wasn’t sure if she would.

Bozer had hoped that maybe Mac and Riley would see each other going on dates and the fear of losing the other might kick in and maybe, just maybe they would deal with their feelings.

“Bozer come on, I am not ready yet besides I thought we talked about this. It’s only been a few months since Desi and I broke up.” said Mac. 

“A few? Mac, its been six months and even Desi has moved on. All I’m saying is go on a date or two. You deserve to be happy too you know. Its time to get all that weight off your shoulders and live a little man.”

“Yeah I know.” Mac seemed to be considering the idea. A date sounded like fun and he could use a distraction from everything going on at Phoenix. 

“Fine, then show me your phone.” said Bozer putting his hand out. Mac raised his eyebrow. “Why do you need it? I know I’ve broken a lot of your phones, is this your version of payback?", said Mac laughing nervously, "You'll won't hold my phone hostage until I agree will you?"

Bozer laughed, Mac was really never going to change. He cautiously handed over the phone and Bozer got to setting up Mac’s profile while Mac tried to get a look at what Bozer was doing secretly worried he was going to put him in some ridiculous situation.

When Bozer was done he handed the phone back to Mac.

“There you go. I installed a dating app called Link’d that will set you up on a blind date. Just hit that button and the algorithm will find you your perfect match.” Bozer left out the part where Riley might also use the app. But then again the possibility of them getting Link’d was slim since LA itself had about a few hundred thousand other users.

“A blind date?” Mac was confused. “Boze I dont know if this is such a good idea.” Bozer could tell every worst case scenario was going through Mac’s head right now.

“I haven't hit the button yet. Think about it and press it whenever you want. No pressure Mac. Whoever you end up with will be lucky to know you.”

“Thanks Boze. Ill think about it. Now can we get back to the game so I can kick your ass again?” said Mac with a smile on his face. He really would think about it. After all a blind date meant no pressure right?

*A few days later*

Riley had decided to use the app after all. It was just a date right? It didn't have to mean anything. She wouldn't even have to call the person back if it was a disaster.

Riley’s phone had pinged with an alert last night. She had got a match and had it yes without thinking twice. She was a bit nervous about going on a date with some random guy but Bozer had a lot of faith in the app. She only knew the guy would have a white rose with him so she could identify him. nothing else

She was very tempted to hack into the apps mainframe and find out who the guy was but she remembered her promise to Bozer. No hacking. 

She had looked up the restaurant however. It was a nice romantic place in the heart of the city. Yes she could enjoy herself. No worrying about Mac or Phoenix or Codex or anything else.

She could do this. She could go on this one date, no strings attached and maybe just maybe she would be able to forget about her feelings for Mac for a night.

She decided to wear the new black knee-length dress she had bought a few weeks ago, but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. It felt good to dress up for a change. She could totally do this. After all what could even go wrong. No one at Phoenix knew about this date and she would fill Bozer and Desi in later if it went well.

********

Meanwhile, Mac was at the restaurant at a corner table. It was a nice cozy booth that meant they were away from the hustle and bustle of the 3 star restaurant. He had to admit the app was pretty cool. Not only did it pick a restaurant but it had pre booked a table too. It did help alleviate the stress of picking a place. 

Mac still fidgeted though:- with the candle in the center of the table, the tablecloth, his suit jacket and even the white rose he had to carry so his date would recognise him. He checked the time for the 10th time in the last five minutes. He was always a little late so he didn't want to take any chances and had ended up 10 minutes early instead.

********

Riley’s cab pulled up at the restaurant. She was walking past the huge front window in a hurry. She was just on time.

She walked into the restaurant and gave her name to the host. As she was being led to her table and praying she wasn’t late, her phone started ringing. It was Bozer. Filled with guilt she put her phone on silent. Stupid button wouldn't work and she fidgeted with it while walking. She promised herself she would fill Bozer in once the date was over.

“Riles?” 

Riley looked up from her phone at the sound of Mac’s voice. Was she hearing things now? But nope there he was, with a white rose, sitting at the table where the host had pulled up a chair intended for her.

“Mac? What are you doing here?”

Mac looked handsome as always. He had on a dark blue jacket, with his hair in his usual short and mess style. He had a look that bordered on confusion and amusement.

Surely there was some mistake. Maybe it was a joke. Or maybe there was an emergency mission and Mac was here to pick her up for the mission. That had to be it. Right?

“I was supposed to be here on a date with a girl I have never met before. You?” Mac smiled. Riley’s stomach flipped. Things had just got so much more complicated.

*****

Riley looked stunning. Mac knew that of course but she managed to catch him by surprise all the same.

She was just as surprised as him but now the doubt was creeping in. What if Riley was disappointed that it was him? What if she was really excited to meet someone new and him being here would ruin her night?

Riley had seemed a bit distant lately maybe this was the universes way of giving them a chance to figure things out after all.

“Well I came here thinking i was on blind date too. The Universe has a weird sense of humour." Riley broke into a smile and sat down. Mac was relieved and even more nervous at the same time. 

What was wrong with him? It was just Riles. They would have a nice meal, figure things out and then laugh about this story later right?

Riley picked up the menu and a few seconds of complete silence ticked by. Mac couldn’t handle it and broke the silence.

“So” he said. “We should probably talk right?”

*****

“Something on your mind?” asked Riley. A million thoughts ran through her head as she put down the menu. This was the part she wasn't looking forward to. She had hoped he wouldnt bring it up until later in the night but it was the elephant in the room. What was she thinking sitting down, pretending everything was fine?

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” said Mac. “You know about how you’ve been avoiding me ever since we almost died in that Codex compound from the missile. Then you moved out suddenly without much of a reason. If it was the drilling sounds I would have stopped you know.”

“It wasn't the drilling sounds or anything you did Mac. I just moved out to give you and Desi the space you deserved.” said Riley.

Her thoughts ran back to the moment he held her hand. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to bring that up right now. The truth was Riley had been distancing herself from Mac. 

Desi was her friend and she was never going to tell Mac about her feelings. It would ruin everything. Even after he and Desi broke up, Riley knew that she and Mac would never happen. She wouldn't be selfish and risk their friendship.

“Come on Riles. You’re my best friend. Whatever is going on then, you can tell me. I know its probably my fault but I need you to talk to me so I can fix it.” 

How could she tell him? There would just be a cloak of awkwardness between them that would never go away and it wouldnt be something he could fix. She had to end this. Now.

“I have to go. I'm not feeling too great. I'm sorry Mac.”, said Riley getting up from her chair. Saying those words broke her heart but she had to put space between her and Mac, otherwise he would know. He would see right through the lies.

“Riles wait!”

Stupid heels she thought and walked out the door of the restaurant as fast as she could only to find it had begun raining. Oh great. This night could not be a bigger train wreck.

She turned around to find Mac right behind her at the door. A sad expression on his face. She prayed he would forgive her for this eventually.

“At least let me give you a ride home. You dont have to say anything if you dont want to.”

Riley considered her options. She really didnt want to. But she was not going to get a cab on a Friday night in this rain. She silently nodded and followed Mac to his truck.

******

Mac was wracking his brains to figure what he could have possibly done to upset Riley this much. They had almost been hit by the Reaper drone and then almost burnt alive in that warehouse, the guilt for putting Riley through that had been eating at him ever since.

He was thinking of all the things he had done in the past month, while Riley sat silently peering out the window not even looking at him. 

He could always fix things right? That was what he did best. What was the use of all his skills if he couldn’t even fix things with Riles.

The woman who knew him better then he knew himself. She had trusted him even when everyone thought he was an enemy of the state. Even when he thought he had lost himself. She was always there. He told her things he had never told anyone before. 

Suddenly his mind went back to the moment he held her hand in that Codex compound. He had thought about that many times. Why had he done it? He was sure he was going to die and he had just put Riley at risk too. He wanted her to know he was sorry right? What other reason could there have been?

Before he knew it he had pulled up at Riley's apartment entrance. 

Riley mumbled, “Thanks for the ride Mac. I'm sorry I ruined your night”, she barely met his eye as she open the door and stepped out. 

Suddenly it struck him.

He didn't want to lose Riley. The thought hit him so suddenly it almost sucked the air right out of him. How had he not realised sooner?

It was Riles. It had always been her.

He got out the car in the pouring rain,“Riles wait.” he pleaded, “I'm so sorry.”

Riley turned around to face him.

“You dont have anything to be sorry about Mac. This isn't your fault. I just have a lot on my mind right now.” she said. 

“I do Riles. I have so much to be sorry for.” said Mac walking around the car and towards her. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me. I’m sorry i didnt realise sooner. I thought back to that day on the truck. The moment I held your hand, I realise it now, it was the first time I wasn't afraid of dying alone. I never let myself think about it. But the truth is Riles, I dont want to lose you.”

Riley had tears streaming down her face. 

Oh no. He had made a mistake hadn't he. He had completely misread the situation. Riley had never felt that way at all. He had just made things worse and now they would never be able to go back to the way things were. 

But deep down he didn't regret telling her. He had these feelings for so long. The idea of losing her had brought everything back to the surface.

“Riles, please say something.”

All these thoughts were running through his head when suddenly, Riley kissed him. He was taken aback for a second but he kissed her back. He could have stayed there in the rain forever. Just him and Riley. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I am so sorry Mac. You were right.. The truth is I was avoiding you. I thought if I distanced myself I would be able to move on and I would never have to risk our friendship. You’re my best friend too Mac and I just...” she was crying again.

Mac took her face in his hands tenderly and wiped the tears away. “Hey, hey its okay. I think we can both agree for two very smart people we can be pretty dumb”

Riley smiled. It made Mac’s heart do sommersalts.

They just stood there in the rain holding each other.

“So are we doing this then?” asked Riley breaking their embrace.

"I mean I guess your bed is big enough" said Mac with a mischievous grin. Riley smacked him, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"Not that. I meant us, dating and all that." She was blushing now.

“if you want to give this a shot? 100% Should we tell everyone though?” asked Mac. He wasn’t sure how everyone would react. A part of him wanted to just keep this between him and Riley.

“I do want to give us a shot. Maybe we should keep this to ourselves for a bit? Phoenix and relationships never seem to mix too well.” said Riley.

Mac nodded and smiled,”Yeah I like the sound of that. And if they get suspicious I guess we’ll just..”

“Improvise.” said Riley, completing Mac’s sentence. They laughed and kissed, standing there in the rain for what felt like forever.

[rxmanticdevil]

One Shot #1 - Magicians for Sport, Trelawny’s side

Characters: Josiah Trelawny, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith Spoilers: Through Ch. 3 Words: ~3142 Trigger warnings: Kidnapping, violence, choking Explanation for this abomination: The story mission “Magicians for Sport” from the perspective of what happened to Trelawny. Josiah is minding his own business, bounty hunters decide they want a chat. Things get better from there (just kidding, they don’t get better). This has most likely been written before but tbh I didn’t look because I wanted to write it and I’ve just done research for my degree and I don’t want to research anymore.))

Trelawny was hardly registering his actions as he placed the two small slices of bread on a plate, a small meal for the early morning. His mind was distracted, his thoughts with the gang he had grown so fond of. Those bounty hunters were quite determined to get a hold of Dutch. And Arthur. The whole gang was in danger, which wasn’t really out of the norm. But this time it felt different, those bounty hunters seemed determined in a way that put Josiah’s hair on end.

The sound of hooves on dirt caught his already heightened attention, and he glanced out his window to see familiar figures coming up the path to the small collection of caravans full of the unsavory people he had found to blend into.

Those were the bounty hunters he had spoken to by the state line. Without wasting any time he pulled the curtains closed, locking the doors as he could. His caravan only had two rectangular rooms, but two doors – two areas of vulnerability.

He held his breath, they were getting closer, there were voices: We’re looking for a guy.

Another voice. The fence who operated out of the next caravan over. He pressed his ear against his front door, straining to hear. But he couldn’t make out what was being said, there was no loyalty here and he knew what the bounty hunters wanted. He was familiar enough with people like them – he knew what they’d do to get it.

The seconds ticked by but felt like hours until he heard the sound of horses trotting away. He took a deep breath, nearly collapsing to his knees from relief.

“Thank God….” – and the fence too. It seemed he would be escaping this scenario unharmed.

He went back to his plate of food but was once more unable to focus on it, his hands trembling too violently to be useful whenever he attempted to spread the raspberry jam over the bread. His mind raced. The bounty hunters were here, in Rhodes. While Josiah didn’t know where Dutch and the others were holed up now, he did know they would be coming back this way. It was imperative that he tracked them down, any of the gang down, at least to deliver the message –stay low, for God’s sake your lives are at stake. Stay. Alert.

Advice he should have heeded himself, it seemed.

The back door was kicked open with an unparalleled violent force at the same time as the front door. The sudden actions causing Josiah’s heart to jump, near pounding out of his chest, and his body escaped to the farthest point from the most immediate intruder at his front doorway. Unfortunately, that was the edge of his bed and it was hardly any more distance at all.

“Good morning, sir,” the bounty hunter coming from the front stood in his doorway, his body filling up the door frame as he held a gun in his hand, “We just got a few questions for you, we won’t be long.”

It was one of the first times in a long time that Trelawny felt genuine fear. Trapped, his revolver by the door where the man stood– there was no way he could get it without being grabbed – or shot. He could only wait for what would happen next. A fact that the man before him seemed to savor, drinking in Trelawny’s paled face and white knuckles clinging to the edge of his bed.

The man’s face melted into a cruel grin as he neared, “You remember me, right? We spoke at the state line?” he waited a moment, taunting Josiah to respond. “You remember we were talking – about Dutch Van der Linde? My colleagues and I seem to think you left out some details.”

“You must have me confused with someone else. I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh?” a fist went to the framed photograph on his wall, shattering the glass as it fell to the ground. The sharp action, the threat, caused Trelawny to jump. If these men didn’t kill him soon his heart would surely do him in.

“I told you, I just got here from Oregon-” It wasn’t acting this time, how his voice pitched up, squeaking out the story he had threaded during their earlier encounter.

A hand grabbed his neck and threw him onto the ground, into the glass. His attacker wasted no time looming over him, leaning down to grab him once more by the throat, pulling Josiah up close to his face.

“Try again.”

“I don’t know anything-”

The fist came at him once. And then twice. He was seeing stars, trying to regain any sense of equilibrium before he was picked up and thrown once more, like a ragdoll, from one side of his caravan to the other. His back hit his counter, knocking the shelves down.

“I said try again.”

Trelawny felt blood coming from his wounds, and an anger building inside him. Fear dissipating for a moment – how dare these men come into his home and cause such a mess. His hand balled into a fist, and he took the moment to throw a punch.

“And I said I don’t know anything, now leave.” He swung his fist, shocking the attacker just long enough to clip the man’s cheek. But before he could follow up, he felt two arms grab him tight from behind. The other bounty hunter. But Trelawny was determined: They had made it clear that he wasn’t getting out of this unscathed whether he cooperated or not.

He brought his elbow up and swung it back in a short, sharp motion- aiming to do as much damage as possible to the gut before he used his elbow and upper arm as the pendulum to swing his fist down into a more sensitive area. The bounty hunter yelped, releasing him.

A glint in the light caught his eye, his cane! A weapon he could get! He made a move for it, pulling it up and swinging down hard with the intent to end this quickly against the man who was doubled over in pain.

Then, there was nothing.

_______

“Then the idiot went after Davey and I grabbed one of the vases and smashed it over his head,” the bounty hunter lit his cigarette and brought it to his lips, “Dropped like a rock.”

“But he didn’t say anything?”

“Not a damn thing,” the man grumbled.

Well, that all certainly explained his splitting headache. He felt the dirt on his cheek, from his face having been in it for who knew how long. But the rest of his body didn’t seem to be responding. Not wanting to alert his new… friends that he was awake, but needing to check his situation, he slowly tried to move his limbs. All he found though was his wrists bound tight together as well as his ankles. Oh, if there was ever a time he wished for the gang to show up from one of their misadventures it would be now.

“Hey, George,” a third bounty hunter spoke to the first, “Look, your friend.”

And then all eyes were on him, and he knew he couldn’t play dead any longer. The bounty hunters eyeing him from their lean-to as he struggled in vain on the ground. ‘George’ gave him a grin, a sickening grin that told Trelawny nothing good was in his future. However futile struggling was, that look made Trelawny only try to free himself faster. It was no use of course, the man stepped over him, straddling him as he pulled his head up off the ground by the throat.

“Good morning, partner,” he said, cruelty in every line on the man’s face.

“I’d brush my teeth if I were you, good sir. You might scare children like that-”

A hand came sharp across his face, “Shut up, fool. You’re in no place to talk to anyone like that.” His throat was gripped even tighter, and Josiah’s body began to panic for air. He could barely register as the man above him spoke.

“Where. Are. They? Where. Is. Dutch?”

“I don’t know any Dutch fellows.” If he wasn’t going to tell them before he certainly wasn’t going to now after they had been so rude and rough.

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, “Dammit! I know you know!” The hand squeezed his throat tighter, and he felt himself gasping – fighting for air.

“Don’t kill him, George, or we’ll never get our answer. He just needs some more persuasion. Or maybe to be kept with us a little longer. If they find out we have him, they might send someone to get him back.”

“Think he’s worth somethin’ as bait?”

The hand relaxed on his throat and he gasped for air. Trelawny was less than soothed by that idea no matter that it bought him a few more minutes (hours? Days?) of life. He despised the thought of being bait for the Van der Linde gang. Sure, they exchanged favors of bailing each other out of sticky situations, but surely this would cross a line.

“So I can’t kill him but I can….”

Trelawny realized in that moment that he had let himself get distracted by thought, George had returned to his side. His eyes read nothing less than sadistic desire.

Whack! “Ahhh!” His legs dulled with the ache of great pain.

Whack! Pain shot through his side.

Whack! His shoulder screamed.

Each hit pulled a gasp from his lips. He caught a glimpse of the weapon – his cane. It came down on him again, and again.

“Hey, George! What’d we say? You’re going to kill him!”

“Fine by me!”

And then he saw the shine from the metal head of the cane as the shaft was swung down on him. He was out again.

_____

This time when he gained consciousness, he was sitting up. His arms tied still, his legs remained bound, and his vision blurred.

“There he is, good morning sunshine,” it was that George fellow again. Trelawny realized he didn’t have much voice left at all. His body weak, pain aching through every bone and every joint.

It was a time he could genuinely say he wished they would just kill him instead of continuing this treatment.

“Look, friend,” Davey knelt next to him, “We can let you go. Just tell us where they are. We can even give you some of the money. You know how much those guys are worth. You’d never have to work a day in your life again.”

Give him some of the money? Trelawny knew Dutch’s bounty was high. That would be no small sum but- no, how could he even entertain the idea? He might not have many morals, but he certainly had friends.

“I don’t… I don’t know… who you- you’re talking about-”

“BULLSHIT,” George was back in the scene. He kicked over Trelawny’s chair and the man fell to the hard, filthy cabin floor with a hard thud. Before he could gather his bearings once more a sharp foot made contact with his gut. The foot pulled back to go at him again.

“Whoa, George! Relax. We’ll make him talk yet. C’mon, I got an idea,” and Davey gave George a glance. A knowing glance. One that Trelawny was not happy to see them exchanging. He felt himself being yanked up by his arms, each touch hitting a point of injury sending shockwaves through his body and eliciting a cry from his lips. “Let’s get you out of here, come on boy.”

“The thing is,” George spoke as they began to pull the man out of the small cabin and down the steps, “after that shack, this will be remembered like a good time.”

“Put the man down, gentleman.” And then there was the click of two guns.

Trelawny could barely focus long enough to feel the relief wash over him in a tidal wave. That voice. Oh, that dear voice. That sweet voice. George left his side, and then Davey dropped him to the ground. It was another hard fall, but he was so filled with that joyous relief that he barely registered the pain. He wasn’t even sure if the tears in his eyes were from pain or relief – most likely both.

Feet entered his field of vision, a knife too – but any fear was dissipated when he realized it was none other than Charles. Another of Dutch’s loyal knights.

“That the lot of them?”

“I… I think so.” His hands were freed in an instant. His wrists red from chafing as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“So, you’re alive.” Arthur knelt by him with another knife, getting to work on the binds on his ankles.

“Allegedly.”

“Well, don’t worry. They won’t be for much longer.” Those words sparked that desire for revenge in Trelawny’s heart. Those bastards who broke into his home, kidnapped him, tortured him, and threatened his friends. He had no strength left but he had enough anger to help himself out of his own leg binding.

“Go get them, Arthur. I can handle this.”

Arthur met his eyes, and Trelawny took the second to drink in that familiar, gentle face. The man who was ruthless when necessary, but who had always been a kind – if a little sad – soul to Trelawny. Arthur seemed to be checking with Trelawny, to make sure he would sincerely be alright should he go off to stop the bounty hunters. In response, Trelawny waved his hand – urging Arthur onward. Not just for that desire of revenge either, should those bounty hunters escape they would escape with far too much information. They had to be dealt with accordingly.

In the next moment, Arthur had taken off to the fields. Gunshots rang out. Arthur and Charles will both be fine, he kept telling himself as he struggled to free his ankles. It would be easier if his hands weren’t having such trouble gripping things. Each movement made his body cry in pain, but at least… at least he was safe.

The rope around his ankles became slack after another moment of finicking. The gunshots were still echoing and Trelawny could only hope his friends were not on the receiving end.

Well, he couldn’t just wait here on the ground. In the dirt. His clothes were already filthy, his white shirt had blood stains on it, his beautiful vest simply torn to shreds. Lord only knew what his face looked like. His hair must be an utter mess. He would simply die of embarrassment should they return to him whining on the ground.

He tried to put a hand on the ground to push himself up to his feet, but his elbow buckled under his weight. Pain shot through the arm. His legs told him too we’re not standing. There was a chair on the patio of the small cabin, if he could just make it there he could take a seat like somewhat of a refined gentleman as opposed to a dirt dweller like he was now.

It took him longer than he’d like, and he had more crawled over the dirt than walked, but he found himself able to climb into the chair, letting himself finally take in a moment of peace despite the pain. Arthur is here. Charles is here. And because he had kept his mouth shut this time, he could look them in the face with dignity.

“Mr. Trelawny, where are you?”

He nearly felt the tears threaten again. That voice brought with it so much relief, he wasn’t sure he could ever explain to Arthur just how much it meant to him. Especially in that moment. And that was for no lack of intelligence on the other man’s part, Trelawny knew the man was quite prolific. Dutch and Hosea would have it no other way. “Over here, dear boy!”

“Put your feet up, why don’t you?” Arthur came into view on the hill, the words harsh and teasing but nothing that Trelawny would imagine taking offense to. And as Arthur approached, he could see his face soften and he could hear that kindness in his voice, “You okay?”

“Never finer.” Yes, this outlaw had probably just killed a small handful of other men. However, he had done it out of desire to protect his friends. And Trelawny was just glad that he was in that category. Trelawny tried to stand up, but pain brought him back into his chair.

“So, who was they?” The important question. Josiah couldn’t blame him for wanting to cut right to the chase. The man’s hand was gentle on his back, the other at his arm in quiet support.

“They were bounty hunters, ah, attached to Cole Stoudemire,” that was what they had told him at that camp long ago.

“Okay.”

“They weren’t looking for me, per se.”

“No…” Arthur quietly confirmed the unsaid part. They wanted you, Arthur. They wanted Dutch. “What you tell ‘em?”

Another important question. And one Josiah was glad he could answer with pride, “Not much. I… told them I was an intellectual come down here from Oregon…” He let Arthur steer him towards the horse, accepting his and Charles’ help to mount. He tried to grip the saddle, tried to pull himself up, but he knew he was fooling none of them: he had no energy, no strength left. “…looking for a job at the university. Course, they didn’t believe me. Seems you stirred up quite a hornet’s nest in Blackwater.”

“So I keep hearing.” Arthur backed slowly away from the horse, as though making sure that Trelawny could remain upright.

Josiah met his eyes once more, a little embarrassed by his own need to request yet even more from the gang. But it was how things had to be. “It might be best if I stay with you gentlemen for a while. Can’t go back to that caravan now.”

Not even a moment to think about it passed before Arthur nodded in agreement.

“Alright, Charles, you take Trelawny back to camp. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Okay.” And Charles moved his horse on, Trelawny following close behind. Their previous rides together had been full of Josiah’s stories, thoughts, and ideas. But this ride was different, it was quiet. Trelawny was lost in thought, energy spent with none to spare on a façade. And Charles’ silence was reassuring in its own right.

The bounty hunters had been dealt with. Josiah had been rescued. There would be time to worry about everything else, time to tell Dutch everything he had learned. Time to pay back the gang for saving his life. For now though, the hooves of the horses and the whistling of birds the only sound for miles, there was just time enough for peace.

[awhiskeyriver]

@eggplant8 said: I would love to see Madge’s POV of picking him up from his family and response to his blurted out confessions.

                                                      +++

   “Your grandma seems nice.” My words cut through the silent air, the first thing either of us had spoken in the twenty minutes that had passed since I picked Gale up. 

    A grunt was the only indication he gave me that I’d been heard, and he kept his gaze focused outside the window. Leg bouncing uncontrollably. Jaw clenched with tension. 

    Oookay, so he didn’t want to talk, then.

    I tapped the beat of the music on my steering wheel lightly, focusing on the dark stretch of road ahead of me leading back to Panem. 

    There’d been something exciting about the impromptu road trip when I’d first headed out to Waukesha. I liked being the person people depended on. The one that got calls in the middle of the night because a car broke down. I was curious what he was doing out there on a Thursday night, though. Last I’d heard from him he had a major test to study for. It wasn’t like I needed the play by play of his life, but it did seem strange no conversation of him going home had come up. 

    For all of the conversations we’d had, all the truth and dare games at Hoffman’s, I didn’t know all that much about his family. I knew about his three siblings, two brothers and a sister, but I didn’t even know their names. Not that I’d exactly been an open book with him either about my family. It was just that there wasn’t much to tell. We were boring in that sense. 

    There was nothing boring about Gale’s family dynamic though, and the more he kept tight lipped the more curious I became. 

    The first small glimpse I’d gotten of any of his siblings came from the little boy asleep on the couch. Even with a blanket curled up around his shoulders and face pressed into a pillow, the resemblance to Gale was uncanny. There was no denying their familial relation.

    “I can’t believe how much your little brother looks like you,” I laughed. I almost wished he’d been awake, so that I could’ve seen his eyes and his smile. Heard his voice. I wondered if their personalities were anything alike. Gale continued with his silence, only nodding his head a little and I sighed.

    “Do they live with her? Your grandma?” It seemed that way, just based on the small bit of the house I’d seen. There were backpacks and school books scattered in the dining room. An open pantry with all kinds of kid-friendly cereal inside. More than one pair of small shoes at the front entrance by the door. 

    For as little as I knew about Gale’s siblings, I knew even less about his parents. Thinking back, I wasn’t sure if the conversation had ever come up at all. If it was true, that the kids did live with Hazelle, it must’ve come with good reason.

    One of the girls in my neighborhood growing up lived with her grandparents because her mother died shortly after giving birth to her from complications. I didn’t know what happened to her father, never asked, but I remembered going to the graveyard with her every year on her mother’s birthday to place down daisy’s at the tombstone.

    For a dark moment, I wondered if something similar had happened to Gale’s parents, too.

    “Yep,” he answered, shortly, only adding to my terrible theory.

    “Oh. How long?”

    He finally looked at me, or at least turned his head in my direction. His eyes went straight through me though, lost in a thought too deep for me to reach.

    “A while.”

    “Hmm,” I hummed, trying to do the math on how old the brother I’d seen on the couch might’ve been. He’d told me his sister was eight, if she was the youngest that meant his mother couldn’t have died all that long ago. I felt a lump forming in my throat at the thought.

    “Did you grow up with her, also?” I asked quietly and then he was back in the present, eyes boring into me with irritation as his eyebrows pinched.

    “Stop,” he told me harshly, turning back to the window. “Just not tonight, okay? I’m exhausted and not in the mood for your psychoanalytical bullshit.” 

    Psychoanalytical bullshit? Wow, okay.

    “I was just asking a question,” I muttered, annoyance clear in my tone. 

    I wasn’t the only one. 

    “No, you weren’t.” 

    “Okay, why are you mad at me right now?” I shot back, unable to help it. It wasn’t like I’d dropped everything I was doing to pick him up in the middle of nowhere at two in the morning. Granted everything I was doing included hot chocolate, a face mask and a Friends re-watch, but he didn’t need to know that. I hadn’t minded the change of plans at all, but Jesus, I wasn’t going to be the scapegoat for his bad mood, either. 

    I understood his frustration. I’m sure I would’ve been stressed beyond belief if my car broke down unexpectedly in the middle of winter two hours away from campus. But everything had worked out…

    “Because you think you know everything, but you don’t,” he replied back, voice rising.

    “That’s not true…”

    “I’m not some project for you to figure out!” 

    The air was tense between us with his words and I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting to keep silent until I felt that I was in control.

    “I never said that you were,” I muttered.

    “Right,” he scoffed, tone accusatory. “You can’t help yourself, you have to get into people’s business. Well, fine, what would you like to know Dr. Undersee? That the reason my siblings live with our grandmother is because our mother is a junkie who chose drugs over her own goddamn kids?”

    His voice cracked with the confession and when I looked over he seemed on the verge of a panic attack. His breaths were shallow, as if he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs and his leg was bouncing uncontrollably. 

    “Gale,” I tried in what I hoped was a soothing tone rather than the anxiety I felt welling up inside of me.

    “Oh, maybe you’re dying to ask how many of us share the same father. Spoiler alert: four kids, three dads, two of which were such scum they wanted nothing to do with their kids and the third so bad it would’ve been better if he’d just left too!” 

    “You don’t have to--”

    “You want to get into how he used to beat me over something as stupid as a lost remote control?” No. No, no, no. “Or how I had to beg our neighbors for food to feed my siblings because no one remembered to go to the store? Go ahead and diagnose the hell out of me, tell me about all the reasons why I’m fucked up trash now that you’ve got all the pieces to your puzzle.”

    I wasn’t sure if he was even aware of the tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over, or not. He seemed lost. Floundering. Trying to find purchase to tether him to reality but coming up short. 

    We needed to stop driving. I searched the road signs passing by quickly for the nearest exit. Five miles. 

From the corner of my eye I saw him lower his head between his knees, back rising and falling with each breath, hands clenched in hair that was coming loose from his bun. 

    “It’s okay,” I promised quietly. “Just breathe.”

    I pulled over as soon as it was safe off the highway, near a farm and a cornfield because of course. It couldn’t have been a well-lit parking lot or something. 

   Gale jumped out of the car without a word, heading closer to the creepy cornfield with his head turned up towards the sky. I wanted to go after him, but reason told me to give him a moment. Let him cool off.

   His confession still had me stunned. After months and months of vague answers and subject changes, he’d poured it all in such haste I was almost positive he would have regrets over it. 

   When minutes passed, but he remained outside, I tentatively got out to join him.

   “You can go,” he told me as my feet crunched closer in the snow. “I’ll call Peeta or something.”

   Yeah, sure. I was going to leave him in the middle of nowhere at two in the morning where the children of the corn could feast on his body before sunrise.

   “I’m...not going to do that.”

   He jerked out of my reach as my hand touched his forearm and took a few steps further down the field. 

   That’s fine. I didn’t like being touched in the middle of an attack, either. I remember my mom read one time that pressure helped to calm people down and she came and wrapped her arms around my body in a hug that felt closer to a straight jacket. I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak to tell her to stop, and when I finally managed to get air out, I screamed so loudly that she cried. 

   Focusing on Gale, not you.

   Right.

   “You’re right,” I whispered to him, and he turned his head half a fraction. Listening. “You’re not a project. I’m sorry if I treated you that way.”

   “It’s not your job to put me back together.”

   “I know that.” 

   He nodded silently and turned back towards the field as the wind whipped, picking snow up from the ground with its fury. It burned my exposed skin and I hopped a little in place to keep circulation flowing but didn’t get any closer to him.

    “Truth or dare?” I asked. We could both use the distraction, and somewhere along the line the game had become our weird way of communicating when regular forms felt like too much.

    “Truth,” he said back quietly and I couldn’t help but smile in relief.

   “Tell me something you like about yourself.”

   When he laughed, like the idea was a preposterous one, I felt my heart clench.

   “Just one thing. Anything.”

   He thought about it for a few painstaking minutes before folding his arms over his middle.

   “I’m a good brother,” he croaked. “I think.”

   “Yeah,” I smiled. “I think so, too.” 

   “Your turn.”

   I took one step closer, then stopped.

   “Truth.”

   “How do you always find the best in people? Even when they don’t deserve it.”

   The real question was easy to see between the words he spoke. How do you always find the best in me, even when I don’t deserve it?

   Like he didn’t deserve it.

   “There’s very few people in the world who don’t deserve any benefit of the doubt and you aren’t one of them,” I told him sternly, chancing another step. He didn’t move, or seem to be upset that I was closer to him, so when I chanced placing my hand in his and he didn’t flinch, I gave it a comforting squeeze.

   When his hand tightened back around mine, something inside of me jolted. 

   “Wouldn’t you rather live in a world where we all saw the best things too?”

   “Reality makes it difficult.”

   “Hmm. That’s true,” I mused. “It’s not always easy.”

   He looked down at me, exhausted and broken, and frowned.

   “I’m sorry.”

   I know.

   “Come on, it’s freezing,” I said, motioning back to the warmth--and let’s be real, safety--of the car. “Let’s get back in the car.”

   Gale was silent the rest of the way home, staring out the window with his arms folded protectively over his chest. And I let him be. When we pulled in front of his apartment, he seemed surprised that we were there, as if his mind had drifted somewhere else entirely, and he waited until he was almost out of the car to turn back and say thank you.

   “It wasn’t a problem,” I promised. It was never a problem. “Gale, I--”

   “You should go, Madge,” he interrupted. “Thank you but, you should go.”

   The door shut without another word, leaving my unfinished words in limbo.

   Gale, I’m always here.

                                                       +++

    Darius was still awake when I got home. At the sound of the door opening, he wheeled out into the hallway in his chair to look me over expectantly.

    “Well?” he asked when I said nothing. “Did all your dreams come true? Did he thank you for rescuing him with sexual favors?” 

    I burst into tears, adrenaline finally giving out now that I was back in the safety of the apartment. Darius was up in a flash, coming towards me to put a hand on either one of my shoulders.

    “Did he hurt you?” He asked, like Gale wasn’t the same guy who brought me soup when I was sick. It was a reflex reaction for him, though. To assume the worst.

    I shook my head and he brought me in closer to his chest.

    “No,” I hiccuped as he stroked my hair. “Someone hurt him.”

[justahopelessssromantic]

Perfect

Part 8

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 9 // Part 10

A/N: Hey guys thank you so much for all the love and support you’ve given me and this story ❤️ We wouldn’t be where we are without all your love and kind words it truly means the world to me 💕 so thank you so much, I love you all. Now grab your tissues cause this could get rough.

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2! A little steamy, very emotional second half. Angst

Parking behind EZ’s bike you noticed no other vehicles or bikes, specifically Angel’s around and let out a sigh of relief. He would be here eventually but for now you were thankful that you would have some time with just EZ to help calm your nerves before facing Angel. Felipe’s truck was also missing and you figured he must have gone out for something.

You were early.

Shutting your door and clicking the key fob until your car honked signaling it was locked you walked up the walkway, climbing the steps and then entering the home as you had so many times in the past.

“Hello,” You called out as you hung your purse on the hook by the door. You didn’t get a response so you assumed EZ must be out back. Making your way through the house and into the kitchen you opened the fridge setting the tray of blueberry bars you had made for desert on the lowest shelf.

Turning back around you looked over at the urn for Marisol, so beautiful. There was a pang in your chest every time you saw it but you knew having her close was good for Felipe. It was sweet how he still talked to her everyday. They had the kind of love that was everlasting, the kind of love you were so sure you and Angel had possessed as well.

Stepping over to her you kissed your fingers before placing them gently onto the cool surface, “Hey Marisol,” you murmured, “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

The sound of the back screen door sliding open caught your attention. You gingerly moved your hand and smiled. Stepping out of the kitchen and into the living room you turned the corner expecting to find EZ but ended up finding Angel instead, your smile faltering,“I thought you were EZ. Where’s your bike?”

He stepped into the room with you, hands in his pockets, “It’s getting some work done. Pops and EZ had to run to the shop and pick up some shit.”

Great, it was just the two of you. You gave him a nod in understanding, not sure what else to say or do.

“So are we gonna talk about it?” He asked breaking the silence, “Or are we just gonna act like whatever that was at the clubhouse didn’t happen?” He knew this may not be the best time but he wasn’t gonna just drop it like it never happened. And no one was here to stop him.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you replied bluntly.

“Really? Cause I got a whole lot I could say.” He said sauntering closer to you.

“It was a mistake.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t want it to happen again,” His cologne mixed with the scent of nicotine surrounded you making your knees weak, “You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy every moment of it. The way my tongue ate you up, my fingers curling inside you. God you tasted so good,” he groaned, getting closer with each word, “You can’t tell me you don’t want me filling you up again, to feel my seed seeping out of you. I know your body aches for mine just as mine for yours, querida.”

“Come any closer Angel and I swear to god I will slap you again,” You warned. If he came any closer you were afraid your body would betray you and you couldn’t have that. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“Well considering what happened last time I wouldn’t be opposed,” he knew he was being cocky, he knew he was pushing it, but just earlier you were hanging around with another guy and it was driving him crazy ever since he saw you together. But you and him had history, he had the upper hand and he wasn’t gonna let that slip through his fingers.

And part of him was also pushing all the emotional baggage that was to be unleashed to the back of his mind the only way he knew how.

“It was a mistake,” you repeated, “It’s never happening again,”

“Really? You don’t even want to just fuckin’ use me again to get off?” He said, voice low and gruff, “You at least want these back, don’t you?” Pulling your panties out of the pocket of his cut he dangled the green lacy fabric in front of you, a smirk splayed across his face.

You snatched them out of his hand, glaring at him, “Yes, I do.”

“I washed them, in case you care.” He said nonchalantly. The sound of Felipe’s truck alerted the two of you to the rest of your party’s arrival. You were so relieved and quickly shoved the article of clothing into your purse before the men entered your home.

EZ stepped through the door first, greeting you with a grin, “You’re early.” He commented. He was hoping they’d be back before you so you wouldn’t be left alone with Angel but he should have known you’d be early. He could feel the tension in the room and hoped Angel hadn’t done too much damage.

Smiling at the two men you gave them each a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Here I’ll get those,” you told EZ taking the bag from his hands and following Felipe to the kitchen, “I made some blueberry bars for desert.” You said.

Felipe smiled, leading you out the back with him, “Sounds delicious, mija.”

EZ turned his attention to his brother who was leaning his shoulder against the wall, “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” Angel shrugged off his brother's accusation, heading in the direction you and his father disappeared off to.

EZ caught his shoulder before he could get far, keeping him back a minute, “Look I know you've been caught up on that Matt guy, but tonight is not the night Angel. You wanted me to help keep you from saying stupid shit? Well then you have to listen to me.”

He hated having to listen to his little brother, but he knew he was right. Tonight was not the night, “Alright, what do you got baby bro?”

“Well,” he started, “How about every time you feel like saying some asinine shit you take a bite of food. Keep that mouth of yours occupied.” EZ grinned at him.

“That sounds like a stupid fuckin’ idea.”

“Well please, by all means do it your way if you don’t like my idea. But if you want her back I’d listen to me.” EZ wanted to do whatever it took to keep the peace tonight, to have somewhat of an enjoyable meal before they shattered your world around you.

“Alright.” Angel gave in walking past his brother and grabbing some beers out of the fridge before joining you out back.

The four of you sat around the small table enjoying your steak dinner, Angel and Felipe on the ends with EZ next to Angel and you Felipe. The four of you chatted casually, you, Felipe, and EZ more than Angel about everyday things such as how the carniceria was doing, the new business opening down the street, and all the things the people you grew up with had been up to in your time away.

Angel listened as you talked animatedly, getting lost in your words and the sound of your voice. Still he couldn’t stop thinking about that damn man named Matt. You were with him this afternoon for god knows how long and the image of the two of you walking together wouldn’t leave his mind. It was driving him insane before he knew if he was blurting out, “So how was your date with Matt?”

EZ shot Angel a look, a silent exchange happening between the brothers.

‘What the fuck? I told you to keep your mouth shut.’

‘What, it’s an innocent question’

Everything was going so well.

“You’ve met him?” You asked, as far as you knew he only ever saw him when you were walking together, unless of course he asked Felipe about him.

“Nope.”

“Well first of all it wasn’t a date, I was just helping him out, he’s new to town. I was just doing the neighborly thing,” you explained taking a bite of your mashed potatoes.

Yeah sure, Angel thought. That’s a perfect excuse to get a girl to spend time with you and the perfect way to take advantage of a good person such as yourself.

“He’s actually very nice,” you went on talking about the man you had just met earlier in the day. You really liked Matt, he was kind and funny, easy to talk to. “He’s working mostly across the border, a former Marine.”

Of course he was. Angel was going to comment but EZ’s stare bored into him so instead he took a bite of his food, as suggested by his younger brother.

“Oh and he has this adorable pit bull he rescued from a dog fighting ring,” You commented. He had shown you a picture of the sweet girl, “Her name is Violet.”

Well isn’t he just a fucking hero, another bite was shoved into Angel’s mouth as he really started to regret bringing him up.

You continued to talk about your afternoon with Matt just getting lost in the excitement of a new face in town, a new friend. You weren’t trying to make Angel jealous or even rub it in his face, you were just genuinely happy and didn’t even think of Matt in any other capacity than as a friend.

Still Angel was jealous, more importantly he was threatened by this seemingly flawless man who was now in your life. He didn’t trust the guy and he was afraid he’d win you over, taking you away from him forever.

You finished your meals and had gathered up the dishes insisting you’d wash them, EZ being your dryer. EZ put away the last plate exchanging a look with his brother and Pops.

They knew they couldn’t put it off forever but still none of them wanted to re-live the pain and none of them wanted to put you through it again as well. All in all it was an awful situation.

“I had a really great time, missed this.” You said drying your hands off on a towel, back to the three men, a smile on your face. “Thank you.” Turning around you looked at the three Reyes’ men, your smile falling as the atmosphere around you had completely changed, “What is it? What’s going on?”

“We have something we need to tell you, mija.” Felipe said, taking charge of the situation. His family was in this mess because of him, he should be the one to lead, to start the difficult conversation.

“Okay,” you said. Your heart sped up as your anxiety increased, a million things running through your mind. Whatever it was you knew it was really bad.

“It’s about Mom,” Angel said, meeting your eyes.

Now you knew it was really, really bad.

“Why don’t we go to the living room,” Felipe suggested, “This will be best if you’re sitting.”

You followed Felipe and EZ into the living room, Angel bringing up the back. Sitting on the sofa Angel sat down next to you. You looked over at EZ leaning against the wall, hands folded in front of him and then to Angel, before looking back to Felipe.

The faces of the men around you were somber. You tried to mentally prepare you for what was to come, but nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to hear.

“Before we were Felipe and Marisol Reyes we were Ignacio and Isabela. I was working for the División Antidrogas Federales and on the Galindo Cartel’s payroll.” Felipe started, as he sat on the chair in front of you. “I had an affair with Dita Galindo, I feared for our safety so we changed our names and fled to Santo Padre, California.”

“That’s why Marisol was killed,” Felipe stated, trying to keep his composure, “Because of me.” His voice cracked.

It was as if the world stopped spinning as everything slowed down around you. The voices of the three men surrounded you, muffled as if you were trapped underwater, morphing together into one indistinguishable voice.

The ticking of the clock was deafening, the usually easily ignored sound now the soundtrack to such a horrible moment in time.

Tick

“Dita Galindo put out a hit on Mom and Pops.”

Tock

“We tracked down the man, Happy. EZ remembered him from that night, recognized him at one of the club’s parties.”

Tick

“He gave us what we needed which led us back to Galindo.”

Tock

“Emily filled in the rest, was able to get proof of the payments, all there and all signed by Dita Galindo.”

Tick

Your heart ached in your chest, heavy and desperate to claw its way out. The pain so intense you wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

You just sat there in silence staring off, sitting with the unbearable agony that consumed you on the inside.

Tock

Their eyes were all on you, waiting for you to say something, to show them something, but you gave them nothing. Your gaze was fixed on the dent in the wall across from you, a remnant of the life lived here in this home, the love shared within the walls, the pain confined in the small space, forever.

The exact moment the blemish was created played vividly in your mind, as if it was playing out in front of you before your eyes.

The three of you, Angel, EZ, and yourself, were running around the living room playing tag. The California heat was a record high that day so you were forced to spend your time together inside, instead of outside like the three of you much preferred.

Marisol was in the kitchen baking cookies, the smell filling the home, the sweet scent clear as day in your mind.

Angel and EZ began fighting, arguing who was it, as they started shoving one another. You watched as younger you tried to get between the two, to break up the fight, but you just ended up in the shoving match.

Before you could stop it the three children tumbled down together crashing into the wall resulting in the dent that was never mended.

A hand landed on your thigh pulling your attention away from the scene. Looking down you examined the familiar hand, large and rough with rings adorning the long fingers, unfamiliar scaring across the knuckles. Your gaze wandered upwards tracing the Mayans ink across his skin and then all the way up to his face, meeting the familiar deep brown orbs.

“Mi dulce?” His voice finally sounded out to you. The Reyes’ men had been trying to get your attention for some time now, but it was Angel’s touch that had brought you back.

“Hmm?” You asked, not able to form words.

“Why don’t you take her home, son.” Felipe suggested to his eldest, “It’s been a long night.”

Angel nodded standing up from the couch, extending his hand out and lifting you to your feet. You followed him as he grabbed your purse off the hook by the door and fished your keys out of the inside pocket you always kept them in. Your body followed Angel as if by its own volition, your mind feeling numb as the aching in your chest wouldn’t subside.

He opened the door for you, giving his Pops and brother a nod goodbye before heading out the door. Following behind you silently he unlocked the vehicle just as you got to the passenger side.

Slipping into the driver seat he turned the ignition on before stealing a glance at you. Your face was turned away staring out the window and his heart broke. He didn’t know how to help you, wasn’t sure what was running through your mind.

He hated this feeling of helplessness. Hated not knowing how to ease your pain, how to ease his own. Before he’d scoop you into his arms, holding you until it all faded away and only love remained, but now everything was different, you were different, and the silence was killing him.

You pulled up in front of your house and followed Angel up the steps waiting behind him as he flipped through your keys until finding the right one and unlocking the door. Holding it open for you he carefully watched as you made your way into the home, dropping your purse on the ground beside you.

The crushing weight was suffocating, you wanted to ask Angel to stay, to hold you and make it all go away but you couldn’t find the words so you just stood there as he stood in the doorway behind you watching.

He longed to hold you, was waiting for you to tell him what to do, but you wouldn’t. He decided to make the first move, not caring about all the shit between you two. All that mattered was here and now. And even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud you needed him and he needed you.

He closed the door behind him, the only light in the house illuminating through the curtains from the moon outside and onto your skin. Placing one hand on your shoulder he pulled you around to face him. His eyes welled with tears as he looked into yours, so lost and broken. He ran his hand instinctively down the side of your face, such a small intimate moment before pulling you tightly to his chest and holding you there in his strong arms.

That was all it took for the floodgates to finally open. Violent sobs wrecked your body as you clutched onto his back, holding him just as much as he held you, the built up anguish finally vacating your body.

Angel nuzzled his face into your neck, his own tears flowing now as the two of you stood in your embrace, clinging onto each other as a lifeline, like you had in the past.

“Tell me what you need,” his voice was hoarse as he mustered out the words.

“Don’t leave me.” You couldn’t bear the thought of being alone right now. You wanted the familiar comfort that only Angel could provide you with.

“Okay.”

Pulling away from the embrace you wiped at your face, “I’m gonna shower,” you said your throat and voice scratchy.

He nodded following behind you as you made your way to the bedroom, turning the hallway light on to illuminate the way. He stepped into the bedroom with you and sat at the foot of your bed, watching you disappear behind the bathroom door connected to the room and listening as the shower turned on from the other side.

He wanted to join you but he didn’t want to push it, so instead he leaned down untying his boots, kicking them off and placing them nicely by the bed. Slipping his cut off and unbuttoning his shirt he stripped the article of clothing off and set them atop the dresser before walking over to your nightstand where he noticed a gold picture frame. Picking it up he smiled as he looked at the photo of you, EZ, and him sitting around a campfire laughing.

“That was a good day,” your voice startled him. You had just walked out dressed in your pajamas as you padded over to him.

“One of the best.” He replied, turning to look at you. Your eyes were puffy and you looked so very tired. “Now what?” He asked. He just wanted to do whatever it was that you wanted, whatever was needed of him to help you through this.

“Hold me?”

Nodding he set the picture back down in its place and walked around the bed to the other side. Shedding his jeans before pulling back the covers he crawled into your bed, arms open for you to join him.

Slipping under the covers and into his arms you snuggled close to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you once more. You stayed there for a moment in silence, just being there for the other.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice was hushed, just barely above a whisper as you stared into the dark.

“What for?” His tone matched that of yours as he tilted his head to look at you. He couldn’t fathom what on earth you’d be apologizing for.

“For not being here for Felipe, EZ,” you tilted your head up to look back at him, “you.”

He shook his head, “That’s not on you, mi dulce.” He kissed your forehead rubbing his hand up and down your back.

That was on him.

Even so you couldn’t shake the guilt you felt. Leaving your family to uncover such horrible truths alone, leaving Angel alone.

“I heard about what happened to Dita Galindo,” you mentioned, remembering you had seen the news while you were away. You ran your thumb back and forth against his bare chest, the little movement of your skin on his bringing you some comfort, “That was you?”

Angel’s heart broke even more if that was possible. They had told you that but you must have still been processing everything, the shock hit you hard, “Mmhmm,” he replied, “That was us.”

You nodded your head gently against his chest, still trying to wrap your mind around the last few hours. The ache returned to your chest as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep the pain and tears at bay.

Angel felt your body begin to shake again. Holding you tighter he nuzzled his face closer to yours, shushing you, “It’s okay, it will all be okay.” His voice broke, betraying him. He was trying so hard to stay strong for you but that was proving impossible. “Try to get some rest, mi dulce. It will all be okay,” he said once more, desperately trying to convince himself just as much as you.

Perfect Tag List: @jadert15 @joalsglasses @chibsytelford @lover1307 @mrsamaroevans @expir3d-l0v3 @dearsamcrobae

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr

[a-milky-strawberry]

Chanyeol x Reader - Happy Virus (Angst/Fluff)

You didn’t have the… most amazing childhood. Your childhood wasn’t terrible, at least for the most part. The first ten years of your life were amazing. You had a loving mother, a caring father, two wonderful brothers, and an overwhelmingly big family. You came from a close-knit family. There were no secrets, no rumors. Everyone knew everything about family and our friends. However, there are reasons for why you used the term “had” when it came to telling anyone regarding your family. That includes your ‘Happy Virus’ boyfriend, Park Chan Yeol.

When you first met Chanyeol you fell head first in love. No, seriously, as he was walking by you got so distracted by his handsome face that you fell head first into a pond. Chanyeol was nice enough to give you his jacket for warmth while you dried your clothes. After that encounter, you two just seemed to have a lot in common and he still tells that story to anyone within earshot. You two shared everything together.

Well, not everything.

Chanyeol knew a lot about you. He knew your favorite color, ice cream flavors, types of music. He knew all your friends and even your favorite animals (spoiler alert: it’s all of them), tv shows, favorite serial killers, etc. He knew everything. At least he thought he did. Chanyeol didn’t know a single thing about your family. When he thought about it he never met you mom or your dad or even a single cousin. At first, he didn’t think much about it. He was an idol after all. You were probably protecting him from loose lip family members, he thought. But, that never stopped him from being suspicious about your behavior when he brought it.

He would always talk about his family. He’d go on and on about stories from his childhood, stories about his mother, and funny anecdotes about his father. You never got tired of hearing his stories. A bright smile would be plastered on your face the whole time. However, whenever your family was brought up your face would change. It seemed almost stoic with a mix of sadness and anger. Your body language would be closed off and you talked as if you were a bad actor regurgitating a line.

“My childhood was good. Mom, dad, two brothers, y’know. Kind of a big family, I guess. They live far away so I haven’t seen them much since moving here. Do you want to make out?”

That was just one of the many ways you’d get him to lose interest in the topic: food, making out, night markets, arcades, and so on. It worked, but the thought never left his mind.

---------

Chanyeol was exhausted. These seemed to be one of those days where schedules seemed to happen back to back to back. He wanted nothing more than to cuddle you and order takeout. After his final schedule, he hurried straight over to your apartment. He sent you texts stating that he was coming over and you couldn’t be happier. You two couldn’t help it. The both of you were just that cheesy. Not seeing each other for a few hours turns into some type of Rose and Jack scene.

As Chanyeol walked up to your apartment building entrance, he noticed a middle-aged woman looking more than a little lost. She had a small piece of paper in her left hand and a bag in her right. She looked sweaty and exhausted and her shoes looked run down. It was as if she had been walking all day.

“Um… is this it? Oh… why did my phone have to die? I have no idea where I am…”

The woman kept looking at a small piece of paper and your apartment building. Was she looking for someone?

“Um… excuse me ma’am? Are you lost?”

The woman looked up at Chanyeol startled but soon was relieved as she took a big sigh.

“Yes! I’ve been looking around all day for this apartment and I don’t remember the apartment I’m supposed to go to. It’s on my phone but my battery died 2 hours ago! Can you please help me?!” the woman pleaded. She looked pretty desperate and the last thing Chanyeol wanted to do was leave a woman outside this late at night without any forms of communication.

“Sure!” Chanyeol smiled. “I’d be happy to help.”

The woman returned the smile. “Thank you! So much! Such a nice, handsome man.”

Chanyeol let out a chuckle. He was always a hit with older women and grandmothers. You’d often tease him saying that he should be a sugar baby to a grandmother if he didn’t want to be an idol anymore.

Chanyeol took the woman’s piece of paper and quirked his eyebrow. ‘No wonder she couldn’t find this place! This address is smudged and you can barely see the apartment number.’ He looked back up at the woman. “Um… Is there anyone in particular you’re visiting? My girlfriend lives here so they might be looking for the person.” Chanyeol asked already to pull out his phone to text you.

The woman nodded. “Of course. I’m looking for a (Y/N) (L/N). Do you happen to know them?”

Chanyeol almost dropped his phone. Why… would this woman be looking for you? Is she a relative? A friend?

“Uh… yeah, I do. Are you a family friend or something?”

The woman chuckled, but her eyes seemed to dart away at the question. “I’m her aunt.”

As much as Chanyeol didn’t want to seem shocked he couldn’t help but choke on his own spit. Here was your blood relative standing right in front of him. His eyes widened. Didn’t you say that your family lived really, really far away? Well, that would explain how she got lost and the smudged address. But, why didn’t you tell him your aunt was visiting? Better yet, why hadn’t you told him sooner.

“Umm… are you alright?”

The woman brought Chanyeol out of his thoughts and he realized he had been staring.

“Oh, yeah! Ahem! I’m fine! I know them. I can take you right now.”

The woman beamed with happiness. “Oh! Thank you so much!”

Chanyeol led the woman inside the building. They got in the elevator and he pressed your floor number. As the elevator shook with movement, Chanyeol took peaks at your aunt. She looked fairly young but had lines on her face to give out her age. She seemed nervous and fidgeting. Was this woman really your aunt?

“So, uh, are you from out of town? Because of the address and directions?”

Your “aunt” nodded. “Yes. We haven’t seen much of each other since they moved away. In all honesty, I haven’t seen them in decades.”

Chanyeol nodded. That seemed to line up. You had told him that it had been years since you’ve seen anyone from your family that wasn’t your two brothers.

“I bet they’ll be happy to see you. But, why didn’t you ask them to pick you up or give you directions?”

“Oh, um… I wanted it to be a surprise.” she said curtly. Chanyeol nodded and left the conversation alone, getting the feeling that she didn’t want to talk anymore. However, it did explain why you didn’t tell him they were coming. Once the elevator reached your floor, the doors opened and Chanyeol led the “aunt” down a long hallway. Once they reached the door, your “aunt” seemed visibly nervous now.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Your “aunt” swallowed harshly. “I-I’m just a little jittery… I wonder how they’re going to react…”

Chanyeol put on a brave face. “Well, no time like the present!” He knocked on your door with a familiar rhythm.

“Come in!” he heard you yell.

Chanyeol opened the door and the smell of Chinese takeout made him drool. He always looked forward to the scary movie nights and takeout. Apparently, you were in the mood for Chinese as he saw piles of it on your coffee table as he guided the woman into the living room. You were on your knees, digging your big box of movies searching for something to watch. You were one of the only people he knew who still had a DVD player.

“Great timing! I was having a hard time choosing between Us and Ma-AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!” You let out a gut-wrenching scream as you laid eyes on your boyfriend… standing right next to your aunt. The air immediately turned tense and cold and Chanyeol could feel a chill rip through his spine. He has never ever heard you scream like that. In all of the scary movie nights and spiders and roaches, that scream you let out gave him goosebumps. As your aunt took a step forward, you fell on your butt trying to scramble away from her. The fear in your eyes was uncanny.

“H-Hi (Y/N)... Look, I don’t want to make trouble but I came here be-” Your aunt was cut short as a vase whipped centimeters away from her head. The ceramic shattered everywhere and Chanyeol didn’t have time to respond as a clay dish also whipped towards you aunt just barely missing her face.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” you screamed, already arming yourself with another vase and clay dish.

“Please sweetheart! Just listen-!”

Another vase whipped at her.

“DON’T YOU DARE CALL ME ‘SWEETHEART’ AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO MY FAMILY!!”

‘What you did to my family!!’ What did your aunt do?! There was no time for questions as an ashtray you used to hold your jewelry broke on your aunt’s face. Your aunt dropped to the floor as she cradled her face and yelped in pain. The sounds of your panting were the only thing filling the silence in your apartment. Chanyeol just looked on in horror. He didn’t know what to do. Did he check to see if your aunt was okay or did he go and comfort you? His hands were shaking and he could barely breathe. Just what the hell was going on here?!

“I… I deserved that…” your aunt whispered as she wobbled trying to get on her feet.

“You deserved to have your skin peeled off with a rusty, ancient potato peeler and have all of your orifices sewn with piano wire while a mix of salt and lime juice embalms your entire body.” you snarled. Another chill rips through Chanyeol’s spine. Your voice laced with pure hatred and he has never seen you this angry. It was like you were a whole different person.

“Please… 귀여운… please just listen… I didn’t come here to fight you. I came here… to ask for your forgiveness…”

You scoffed. “Forgiveness? Forgiveness?! After everything you’ve done?! And you dragged my boyfriend in the middle of all of this!!” you pointed at Chanyeol who stood like a statue.

“I didn’t mean to! He said he knew you… and I came all this way… just to find you…”

“Well, you wasted your time! Because I don’t want to see you! Not only did you ruin my life, you ruined everyone’s life! The family, the relationship between me and my dad, and your own sister!! My mother!! She-!” Your words caught in your throat as tears streamed down your face. “I’m not discussing this in front of Chanyeol… Go home (Y/A/N)...”

“Please 귀여운!! I came all this way! I looked for you all day! I came here to give you news about your dad! And I really wanted to see you…”

You stood quiet as she went on. “No one has seen you in years… You’re the only one who doesn’t keep in contact with the family. Your brothers still keep in touch-”

“That was their choice. The moment I left was when I decided I had no family.”

“(Y/N) please…”

“You and that bastard are nothing to me. That whole family is nothing to me! That whole family knew what was going on but were too fucking cowards to have the decency to tell my mother what was going on!!”

“(Y/N)... there’s still so much that you don’t know… If you had stayed and hadn’t pushed us away you would know the full story.”

“LISTEN TO WHAT?! The excuses?! The tears?! The cries?! What “story” is there to tell?! The story about how you're selfish?! And spoiled?! And how you couldn’t just let my mother be happy even if you weren’t?! So you played with my father the same way a child plays with their other siblings' toys when that sibling gets news ones?!”

Your aunt turned silent as she looked down at the ground. Tears were flowing through her eyes too.

“Or are you going to tell him how you two were so in love that you couldn’t recognize what was wrong? Forgiveness is the last thing I want from you. I don’t want your forgiveness. I don’t want your hugs, no sweethearts, not even a damn handshake from you. Because of you… my mother is dead.”

The air dropped 20 degrees lower and Chanyeol could hear you choking back painful sobs.

“Killed by your selfishness… Can your forgiveness bring my mother back? Can your forgiveness bring back all the heartache and crying and trauma that I had to go through finding her body that morning? Can your forgiveness bring back all the years I slept on the streets, begging and crying in the alley alone, when I ran away from home because you and that bastard immediately put me and my brothers in boarding schools after my mother’s funeral?”

Your aunt said nothing more. You blinked the tears out of your eyes and turned around. “I would like for you to leave my house.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m afraid I don’t know you ma’am. Please leave my home before my boyfriend calls the police.”

You aunt looked over Chanyeol as they made eye contact. Her eyes were red and her face wet with tears. She gave him a sorrowful look as if to say she was sorry for having to witness this distratious reunion. She slowly picked herself up and placed her bag on the coffee table. She looked at Chanyeol once more and then the bag. Her eyes told him that whatever was in that bag was why she made the journey all the way here and was leaving with a gash in her cheek. As your aunt made her way to the door, you spoke up again.

“(Y/A/N)?”

She turned her head and looked at the corridor that led to your living room. You were standing between that entrance with a cold, tearful look.

“I don’t know how you got here. I’m 10000000% certain that it was none of my brothers, but I will tell you this. If you tell that bastard where I live or anyone else for that matter or get anyone else to come here, I’ll call my brothers and tell them what happened. They’ll cut you off with no hesitation… and then, you’ll be left with no one.”

A painful sob left your aunt’s throat as she nodded and scrambled to get the door open.

“귀여운… my sweetheart… I am so so sorry…”

The door softly shut and you aunt was gone. You slowly walked towards the door, locked it and pressed your forehead on the cold door.

Chanyeol had finally gotten up and was staring at your back, a few tears in his eye as well. He approached you slowly as not to stress you out.

“(Y/N)...?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” you stated curtly. Oh, but you were far from okay. As much as you were angry and upset, you were more so embarrassed that this happened in front of Chanyeol, the love of your life. You wanted to have a relationship with this man. He was one of the few that you actually trusted, just not to the degree. You always knew you’d have to tell him one way or another. Just not like this… How were you going to be normal knowing that Chanyeol knows everything. He’s not an idiot. All the clues were there and based on your reaction he knew this was serious shit he just witnessed.

“I’m sorry-”

“Can I give you a hug?” he asked gently. You turned around and were faced with your gentle faced boyfriend with his arms out already out. You looked in his eyes. They were shiny from tears and you knew rejecting his hug would only make him feel worse. You didn’t give an answer as you willfully ran into his arms and sobbed into his chest. Chanyeol patted your back and smooth your hair, shushing you and whispering gentle words like: “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.” “You’re safe now.” “Whenever you’re ready.” After a while your sobs turned into small sniffles.

“I-I’m so s-sorry you had to see that… I w-w-was gonna tell you s-s-s-soon b-b-b-but…” you stuttered trying to get your words in order.

“Shh… it’s okay… Take a deep breath…”

“I-I was so s-scared that you would leave me!!!”

Chanyeol felt his stomach drop. He would never leave you. Especially since he’s gotten a snippet of what you’ve got through.

“I would never leave you Jagiya…” he assured, giving you a tight squeeze. “We’re in this together now, araso? Your worries are now my worries. When you want to talk about it and explain your story I will always be here to lend you my Yoda ears.”

You let out a soft giggle.

“My ears can pick up anything. I can even hear your thoughts! You’re thinking: ‘How did I get so lucky with such a handsome, generous, man with a ten-pack and great hair.’

You laughed as you pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Close. More along the lines of ‘dorky’ and ‘nine-pack’.”

Chanyeol let out a dramatic gasp and threw his head back. “Are you saying my abs are uneven?! I’ll have you know I count my abs everyday in the shower, just like I count my bread!”

“Pfft-! You count your bread?! Who the hell does that?!”

“Um! Every good-looking rapper with a ten-pack, great hair, handsome face, and who’s Jagiya keeps making peanut butter jelly and honey sandwiches at 3 a.m.”

“Oh my gosh! You’re such a weirdo!” you laughed, holding your stomach with now a new set of tears running down your face. A happy set of tears. As your laughter died down you took Chanyeol’s hand and gave him a gentle almost pleading look.

“Promise you’ll wait?” you asked.

He smiled gently and stroked your cheek. “I’ll wait forever if that means I get to see you smiling everyday.”

You leaned into his cheek and smiled. “Thank you.” You gave his palm a kiss and led him into the living room. You noticed the bag on the coffee table. “What’s this?”

“I don’t know. Your aunt had it with her. It seemed like she wanted you to open it.”

You stared at the bag not knowing what to do. A million thoughts rushed through your mind before Chanyeol’s voice snapped you out of thought.

“Do you want to throw it away?” he asked gently. “Her being here made you really upset and I wouldn’t want you to open the bag if you don’t want to.”

You thought for a while before sighing. “Can you… put it in my closet? I’ll open it someday. Just not to today.”

Chanyeol gave a quick ‘of course’ before giving you a peck on the head and putting the bag in your closet. You’d definitely want to be in the right mindset before seeing what was in that bag. Chanyeol came back and saw you looking at the piles of Chinese food and giving a big sigh. “Well, this food is definitely cold now. Plus, there's glass everywhere…” you grumbled looking at the shattered pieces of once was a vase, two clay dishes, and an ashtray.

“Let’s heat these up and clean up this mess. Then we can start our scary movie night. I still need you to help me pick between Us and Ma.”

“Of course Yeobo! But first, you need to work on your target practice because you missed.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Missed what?”

Chanyeol pointed to his lips with an adorable pout. “My lips aren’t on my palm~! You really need to work on your aim.”

You giggled as you stood on your tip toes and gave him a quick kiss.

“And just a few more.” he said before smothering your entire face in kisses. Your laughter filled the apartment once again as you both fell on the couch in a kissing frenzy.

“W-Wait! Chanyeol!”

“Not so fast! You need to pay your fees!”

“What fees?”

“What if I get glass in my foot? And what if I bite into a cold noodle because of the microwave? You need to pay for all precautions!”

“Chanyeol!!”

This was why you love this man. He could turn your pain and sobs into laughter. He could make a bad day seem like nothing more than a grain of sand in the ocean. He always made you feel loved and happy. I guess that’s why he isn’t nicknamed the ‘Happy Virus’ for nothing.

hey guys. sorry i haven’t been active recently. college has been kicking my ass even though WE HAVE REMOTE CLASSES >:( anyway. i’ll try to update as much as i can and for those wondering if i’m going to be continuing the suga x reader - cold series, i am! also, look out for some reactions coming soon! later!

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Our Next Adventure (The Master X Reader)

WC: 1137

Warnings: Gets a bit steamy, spoilers for Spyfall pt 1 if you haven't seen it

Summary: When two equally chaotic Timelords fall in love and get married, their lives together are nothing short of mad.

A/N: Guess who finally started writing again??? surprise, it’s me. I legit watched season 11 and 12 of Doctor Who in two days and I’ve now got a big fat crush on Sacha Dhawan as the Master. Hope you guys enjoy this!

Y/N almost swore that in the time she had been with the Master she had forgotten what peace and quiet was. They were married very soon after they left the Academy and had been together for hundreds of years, travelling almost every inch of every known galaxy and universe together. They made quite the team, and they were so very proud of the fact that they were hated by all other Timelords. 

Y/N had seen the Master through a good many faces, and he said seen her through a good many as well. Each face and body had its perks, but she definitely had a preference for his current one. His fluffy hair, eclectic dress sense and the madness that reached his eyes when he got incredibly excited made her almost weak at the knees, though she’d never let her husband know that. It would boost his ego right through the stratosphere.

As she slowly woke up, she noticed that she was alone in the bed. That was normal; sleep was a human thing that the Master had no time for, but Y/N liked to indulge in it occasionally. However, what was somewhat unusual was that his favourite purple coat was still bunched up at the foot of the bed. A smirk crossed Y/N’s face, knowing that the coat was normally off limits. 

She quickly pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of pants, and she grabbed the coat, savouring the feeling as she pulled it on. Wearing the coat felt like her husband was right there, his scent bringing a smile to Y/N’s face as she began to make her way to the console room. 

Clearly her footsteps must have alerted the Master to her presence, as he began to address her without even looking up. “I was wondering when you were going to make your appearance, love. You do enjoy your occasional beauty sleep.” 

Y/N chuckled, quickly walking over to the Timelord and leaning against the Tardis console. “Well good morning to you too Koschei.” Y/N muttered, her words managing to draw his gaze to her figure. 

“I was going to comment on the fact that it’s actually mid-afternoon in this time zone but that is no longer important. Is that my coat?” He said, his eyes raking over her body slowly. 

Y/N nodded, slowly whirling around in the dramatic fashion that they both loved. “Well, what do you think? You just left it in our room, so I figured it was free game.” Y/N said, an almost cheeky smile on her face. 

The Master’s eyes finally met Y/N’s as he slowly walked towards her, eventually settling his hands on her waist. “Were you trying to kill me? Was that your little plan because by god is it working.” He said, his voice low and his pupils blown. 

Y/N couldn’t help but feel satisfied, knowing that even after centuries of marriage she still managed to affect him in this way. “I think it kind of suits me, to be honest.” Y/N said nonchalantly, gently placing her hands at the back of his neck, toying slightly with his hair. 

“You are devious and crafty and I have never been more in love with you.” He said, immediately closing the gap between the two of them with a rough kiss. Y/N’s hands moved further up into his hair, lightly tugging at it which elicited a groan from her husband. 

The Master’s hands squeezed at Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer to him so their chests were against each other. Eventually the need to breathe made them separate, but Y/N rested her forehead against the Master’s, revelling in the soft thud of his twin heartbeat combined with her own. 

“I’m taking that as a sign to steal your coat more often.” Y/N said, smiling as the Master rolled his eyes.

“How do you expect us to wreak havoc across the worlds when you keep distracting me like that? Honestly woman, its like you have no respect for what we do.” He said, trying to keep a straight face as Y/N glared at him with mock-menace. 

“No respect for what we do? Did you see me the other week when we absolutely destroyed that Skithra platoon? I was the entirety of the brains behind that operation, Koschei, and you cannot tell me otherwise.” Y/N said, untangling herself from her husband’s grip as she moved to the other side of the console, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. 

“I know, love, and you were brilliant, as ever. You’re always impeccable, and we work so very well together. I actually have an idea for what our next adventure can be.” He said, and Y/N raised her eyebrows, leaning forward in curiosity. 

“Do tell, darling. I always love hearing your plans.” Y/N said, watching eagerly as the Master grinned and made his way over to her side of the console. 

“Well, it’s a very long-term plan, but it will be very rewarding when it plays out. You know how I’ve been discussing a sort of alliance with the Kassavin?” He said, and Y/N nodded, prompting for him to continue. 

“To cut a long story short, I want them on my side so I can ruin the Doctor’s life in the most spectacular way possible. Initial thoughts?” He said, watching for Y/N’s response. The broad grin that spread across her face was enough for the Master to continue. 

“It will involve us posing as MI6 agents, and the TCE will take care of the agents we’re replacing. We’ll make sure we work with the Doctor at least once before the grand plan, so she can trust us. We’re going to get that tech mogul Daniel Barton in league with us and the Kassavin, who we will order to assassinate various intelligence officers from around the globe. After that, we’ll make sure the Doctor comes to us to help assist her, and then eventually we’ll end up in an automated plane with a cockpit bomb and a reveal that’ll leave the Doctor breathless.” The Master was almost out of breath, his eyes sparkling with madness and joy as he waited for his wife’s response.

“You always manage to come up with the wildest plans, Koschei, and this one is no exception. I love it. I’m already imagining the look on the Doctor’s face when everything is revealed. Ooh, I’ve got goose bumps just thinking about it.” Y/N said, the devilish smile on her face matched by her husband’s. 

“Oh I knew there was a reason I married you. We are going to have so much fun watching her crumble, my love.” The Master said, pressing a brief but passionate kiss to Y/N’s lips before pulling away. 

“I’ll be looking forward to every minute of it with you. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?”

[ikementally-deficient]

Advanced Entomology - Chapter 7: Metamorphosis

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer

Rating: Carolina Reaper (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Warnings: dubious/uninformed consent, see masterpost A/N

Due to the nature of the questionable consent in this fic, if you enjoy this story enough to reblog it, please reblog the masterpost rather than individual chapters.

Author’s Note: Holy shit it’s finished! This last chapter was like pulling teeth, and it got both more emotional and less smutty (though still pretty smutty) than I intended. Tangential spoilers for chapters 14-18, although this has departed from canon pretty heavily so you probably won’t get too spoiled if you haven’t read those yet. 

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and spoke to me on discord and AO3, this never would have been completed without that encouragement.

********************************

He follows her up the stairs. It would almost be boring, if it weren’t for his knowledge of what awaits them at the top.

They climb in silence, Lucien watching the sway of her skirt ahead of him. He focuses on the pleats fluttering around her knees, her slender calves flexing as she climbs. He’s tempted to reach out and grasp her delicate ankle and pull her back, wrapping her limbs around him, ignoring his mission in favour of burying himself in her.

He’s pulled from his reverie by the sound of her shoes scraping to a halt. 

“We’re here.” She places her hand on the bar of the door, preparing to step out on to the roof of the tower. He’s still amazed at how easy it was to lead her here, pretending to follow the trail of clues he’d littered for her to find. He smiles fondly as she looks back at him, amber eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you ready, Lucien?”

“I’m ready,” he purrs, stifling his anxiety about what lies before them. He’s done his job well. The Queen will trust him, just as his butterfly does. There is nothing to fear. He places his hand over hers on the crash bar.

The roof of the tower is disappointingly prosaic: an open square covered in gravel, with a steel pylon supporting an antenna. The only sound is the faint rush of traffic many stories below them. It’s hardly a worthy setting for the portentous event about to take place.

She leads him across the roof to the pylon and stares up at it. “Is this it? Is this what’s causing everyone’s Evols to go out of control?”

“All evidence seems to point that way.” He stares up, squinting against the sun’s glare. “The antenna is centrally placed, and high enough to reach most of the city.”

“How do we shut it off?”

Lucien holds his breath as she circles the pylon slowly, homing in on the red switch box. He follows her, coming to stand behind her as her hand caresses the switch. 

“Are you ready?” she asks. Her tone is faint, eyes absent. She might be talking to him, or herself, or the world. He casts one last glance up at the silent pylon.

Silly girl.

The switch clunks across its hinge. For a moment nothing happens, and Lucien begins to wonder if he’s miscalculated somehow. Then the pylon hums to life, and he feels the powerful amplification field spring up around them. 

“What --?” She’s shocked, looking up in disbelief. “It was already off?” He places his hands on her shoulders and she whirls to face him. “Lucien, what’s going on?”

“It’s been waiting for you, butterfly. Can’t you feel it working?” He can feel his own Evols responding to the field, but he’s been exposing himself to it off and on for nearly a year. Maintaining control is easy. Not so for her; suddenly dropped into the center of the field, she’s overwhelmed. Her eyes are wide and staring. He knows she’s being assaulted by images, possibilities, quantum futures, and it’s too much for her. With a shuddering sigh, she collapses against him. He gathers her unconscious form into a bridal carry and sits against the waist-high wall, waiting to see who awakens.

*************************************

A faint whimper alerts him before her eyes flick open. Her pupils are so dilated the irises are nearly invisible, just a thin amber border around black pupils. She stares up at him with lips parted, and he is struck by the memory of her pinned to his living room floor, pupils blown wide with wanting.

“Hello,” he breathes.

She blinks a few times, pupils slowly contracting against the afternoon light. “Lucien?” Her voice is faint. He waits, and is rewarded. “Ares.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

She pushes away from him, climbing out of his lap and standing on her own. He rises to stand beside her, ready to guide her back to the stairs, back to Black Swan. He touches her elbow, but suddenly his fragile butterfly is a steel cable under his hand, immoveable.

“You didn’t need to awaken me,” she states flatly. He stares at her. She stares back, inscrutable. “You’d already headed off Zeus and Hades’ foolishness with the virus. You don’t need me here.” She looks around, dismissing him as unimportant for the moment. 

“I needed to complete my mission, my Queen.” 

“Your mission was a waste of time. Black Swan will never have me.” He watches her stalk to the switch box and flip it back to the off position. The hum of electricity dies, and he can feel all his hopes die with it. Her body language is alien, strong and certain and unquestioning and nothing at all like the butterfly he’s tamed. His heart feels cold. 

She glances back at him.

“She’s still here, Ares.” The Queen turns and walks to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “She couldn’t leave.” He gapes down at her. “Idiot. Did you think neither of us would realise?”

“Realise what?”

“That you love her.”

It’s reflex that has him blurting out a denial of sorts. “I’m not allowed --”

She’s having none of it. “But you do. And so does she.”

“She shouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know. And so does she, now. We’ve seen everything.” Her hand slides down his neck to stroke his tie. “Every possibility. Every way this played out. Every betrayal,” she grabs his tie, nails scoring the silk, “And she still loves you, Ares.”

Lucien gapes down at her, at a complete loss. His mouth works for a moment before he can find words. “Why?”

The Queen smiles up at him, a self-assured Cheshire Cat curl. “Because even when you betray her, you protect her. As much as you can. It’s rather sweet, actually.” Her grip on his tie tightens as she begins to pull him down, a slow steady drag.

“I don’t -- I don’t understand,” he stammers desperately.

“Lucien.” It’s her voice again, the delicate butterfly’s sweet tone. “It’s alright.” She presses a gentle kiss to his lips and he’s back in the art gallery, so many months ago. He raises his hands to cup her face, losing himself in her soft mouth. 

At last they part, and he stares down at her in wonder. “I still don’t understand.”

She gives him a tremulous smile, and he can still see the Queen lurking in her eyes, but the smile is all her. “None of it matters, Lucien. No matter how all of this ends, you always love me.” Her cheeks bloom with the same blush he remembers evoking as they stood in echo of Klimt’s kiss. “And I love you.” She reaches up to clasp her hands around the nape of his neck. “Please, Lucien, take me home,” she leans in, pressing against him with an assertiveness he’s never dared dream of, “And take me.”

The idea of descending the stairs and taking a bus or a taxi never occurs to him. He slides his arms around her waist and steps backwards into her bedroom. His heel hits the foot of the bed and he’s falling backwards onto the duvet, pulling her down on top of him. She lands clumsily, straddling his hips with her hands planted next to his ears. 

“Are you sure?” Lucien’s voice is hoarse. It seems absurd to ask now, of all times, after months of practically forcing her to want him, but the mission is blown, the Queen autonomous, and he desperately wants something real to make up for everything he’s repressed in the name of Black Swan. 

She giggles and his heart lightens when she dips her head to dust kisses across his forehead and down his nose. Her lips trace a sweet path across his mouth and along his jaw, coming to rest next to his ear. A puff of warm breath accompanies her answer.

“I’m positive, Lucien.” Her kisses continue down his neck and into the gap of his collar, before she pulls back to start undoing his tie with an adorably focused expression. At last she pulls the silk out of his collar and eyes him contemplatively. 

“You know,” she says, and even in the dim light he can see both of them in her eyes. “You’ve worked so hard over the last few months to make me feel good.” She takes his wrists and tugs until he lets her lift his arms over his head, and starts to wind the tie around them. “I have the feeling you won’t believe any of this is real until I’ve had the chance to return the favour a little.” She leans over him, the fabric of her shirt brushing against his nose. He can feel the tug of the tie against his wrists until his hands are resting against the headboard. He twitches experimentally and realises she’s tied him to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

She crawls backwards down his torso until they’re nose to nose. “I’ve seen everything you’ve done to me, Lucien.” Her forehead gently bumps against his before she’s moving down again, undoing each button of his shirt and kissing the skin behind it before proceeding to the next one. “More importantly, I’ve seen everything you haven’t done, everything you could have done, everything you did somewhere else but not here.” Her lips brush his navel and Lucien can feel his abdominal muscles flinch when she trails her tongue across them. 

“Do you know,” she continues conversationally as her fingers make short work of his belt buckle. “You’ve done this in other places -- other timelines?” She looks off in the distance for a moment before shrugging. “Taken me to bed. Conditioned me.” The belt falls open and the zipper of his trousers follows suit. “But you always hold yourself back.” She smirks a little and he flushes, remembering the afternoon in front of the mirror. “Well, nearly always. It’s never been about you.”

Her fingers slide under the waistband of his shorts, and slowly pull until his erection springs free, hard and hot. She leans in and he shivers as her hair tickles his skin. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time.” She rubs her cheek along the length of him. “This is about you.”

His heart nearly hammers out of his chest when she takes the head of his cock into her mouth. Her mouth is hot and wet and the slide of her tongue has him gritting his teeth. At the sound of his groan she sucks hard and the headboard creaks as his hands are stymied in their effort to grab her. 

She slides off him with a quiet pop and grins. “Do you like that, Lucien?” Sucking him back in, she pulls his trousers and shorts down to his knees and nudges him to pull his legs free. He’s splayed in front of her, his only clothing the shirt hanging from his bound forearms. His hips flex, yearning to thrust into her mouth.

Lucien forces his arms to relax against the tie. “I do.” His body is aching to hold her. “But --” his voice falters.

“But what?” She waits patiently, crouched over him, breathing warmly against him as he tries to figure out how to just ask for something. Lucien represses everything for his mission. Ares takes what is necessary. But now, he has the opportunity to request his deepest desire and receive it, freely given, knowingly given.

“I want . . . “ He trails off, then sucks in a steadying breath and starts again. “I want to hold you.”

She blinks up at him. 

“Everything I’ve done up to now has been for someone else’s goals.” He licks his lips, mesmerised by the gleam of her eyes. “I just want to hold you. For myself.”

The catch of her breath is audible. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, Lucien painfully aware that neither his blush nor his erection are fading. Then suddenly she is slithering back up his torso until her mouth meets his in a desperate, hungry kiss while her hands work at the knot in the tie. The instant his hands are free he sheds the shirt and wraps his arms around her, one hand clutching her waist and the other buried in her hair. They spend several minutes in this pose, drinking each other in, bodies grinding against each other. Lucien feels like the hormonal teenager he once disclaimed to Zeus as he moans into her. 

Finally, the feeling of her clothing against his skin is too much. “Please,” he begs. “Let me undress you.”

She presses away from him, hands on his shoulders. “No, I don’t think so.” He can feel himself shrivel as she crawls off of him. Her hands move to the bow of her sash and his heart stops. “We’re done with you doing things to me, Lucien.” The sash falls loose and she slides the dress over her head and sits back on her knees, all pale pink flesh and white cotton underthings. She reaches up to touch the clasp of her bra and meets his eyes. “I’m doing this now.” She shrugs the bra away as the clasp slips open and shimmies out of her panties. A beautiful flush warms her breasts as she comes back to him and settles in his arms. “Do you understand?”

The emotional whiplash is wiped away by the feeling of her soft hair curling along his cock, recovered and straining against her. He holds her close again, waiting for her to make the first move. Patience is rewarded; she gathers herself to slide wetly over his cock, teasing him with her arousal. Long minutes of this and they’re both panting heavily. Each flex of her hips is slower, tantalizing him with the rub and gentle catch of her clitoris against the head of his erection. Finally, she raises her hips enough to angle him against her entrance and pauses, teasing.

“Are you ready?” she asks, that Cheshire cat smile on her swollen mouth. Lucien’s mouth is dry, but he forces the sound from his throat.

“Yes --” and she’s engulfing him, moist heat and delicious pressure and it’s so different from that day of the mirror because she’s in charge and letting him be inside her. All the muscles from his diaphragm to his thighs clench tight and spasm as she rides him, leaning back and dragging his hands up her torso. He follows and brings his mouth to her breasts, sucking desperately at her nipples as his hands clutch her hips hard enough to bruise.

She gasps as his teeth scrape across her and he can see her hand sliding down her own stomach in his peripheral vision. She tightens around him as her fingers rub desperately at her clit, and he loses all sense of control. His face is buried between her breasts as her orgasm shudders around him and he can no longer hold off his own, spilling into her and feeling all his discipline evaporate. They fall back into the sheets, still twitching around each other. Her mouth lands on his clavicle and she presses open kisses to it, each own mirrored by a shivering aftershock around his softening cock. 

“This is how it is from now on, Lucien.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, but still sweet. “Can you accept that?”

He considers, long enough for his cock to slide out of her and the sweat on his chest and forehead to cool and dry. He’s not in charge anymore, and she’s not quite the butterfly he tamed. Black Swan will still need to be dealt with; the Queen is a threat to them now, and a rogue Olympian can’t be left alone. But -- 

He looks down at her and smiles. It’s not one of his practiced smiles, trotted out for appropriate reactions to appropriate occasions, and he has no idea what it looks like.

“I can, and I will . . . my Monarch.”

All things considered, the situation could be much worse.