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reiderwriter · 8 months ago

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She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you.

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't.

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last.

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison.

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty.

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave.

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there.

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it.

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you?

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then.

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit.

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left.

And now you had. And it was his fault.

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week.

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you.

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable.

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last.

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent.

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew.

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get.

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support.

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear.

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again.

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch.

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could.

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home.

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore.

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them.

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood.

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry.

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention.

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom.

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying.

You made 22.

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things.

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure.

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears.

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely.

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him.

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days.

You hadn't counted.

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be.

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down.

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that.

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life.

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up.

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life.

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again.

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not.

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories.

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking.

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door.

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key.

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment.

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him.

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him.

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him.

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.”

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.”

“It's been two months.”

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.”

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded.

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.”

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye.

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico.

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding.

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day.

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew.

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning.

“Please don't say that.”

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.”

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along.

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down.

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes.

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through.

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer.

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby.

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her.

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle.

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent.

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear.

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her.

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days.

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.”

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you.

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down.

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion.

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things.

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days.

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it.

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump.

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands.

He had a lead. He had you now.

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open.

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world.

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left.

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew.

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life.

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion.

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sadhours · 1 year ago

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You’re so talented and amazing that smut has me SWEATING!!!!

Plsssss part two with Steve taking readers virginity I beg

stop I love you!

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, inexperienced reader, oral (f and m receiving), virginity loss, p in v, unprotected (sorry I can’t write any other way)

part one

requests are open!!

shockingly, when you went to Steve’s house that night, you two didn’t sleep together. Which was his idea. He said he felt like maybe you two oughta get to know each other better before you went that far. You were visibly upset by that but Steve insisted it would be better that way.

So that’s how you find yourself a couple weeks later, holding hands with him as you walk through the mall. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you were dating but Steve didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend. But you two have been spending almost every day together, after work and on your days off. Like today, the pair of you have the day off but you wind up at the mall anyway. He called you this morning and asked if you wanted to hang out. To which you told Steve you needed to get a new pair of shoes for work, since yours were falling apart and he offered to tag along. He even picked you up.

You make eye contact with your coworkers as the pair of you stroll passed the food court. They make crude hand gestures and so you squeeze Steve’s hand and walk faster. He’s none the wiser, eyes scanning around the crowded mall. You catch yourself staring at him. You’ve had this like, really intense feeling in your chest ever since you and Steve started hanging out. It’s tight, almost like your lungs don’t have enough air. And he’s literally all you think about, all you can talk about. Steve, Steve, Steve. On a loop, to a nauseating extent. Not nauseating to you, but most likely to your family and friends. But really, he’s so dreamy.

“Where do you usually get your work shoes?” Steve asks, grazing his thumb against the back of your hand.

“Sears,” you answer honestly. Steve’s parents are in a vastly different tax bracket than your own so you get a little self conscious about these kinds of things. You were incredibly impressed with his house. And it took a good convincing from him to let him come over to yours. Especially because while Steve’s parents weren’t home when you went over there, yours were at yours always. And they were embarrassing, even though you were an adult now, they hovered. And you couldn’t close your door when he came over. Your mom about talked his ears off, too but Steve was charming and when he left, your mom told you he was sweet and she liked him.

“Cool,” he nods, “What do you wanna do after this?”

You shrug, walking into the entrance of Sears, “I don’t know.”

“We can use my pool,” he offers, “It’s really nice out, today.”

You blush, the thought of being in your swimsuit in front of Steve is kind of a lot. Even though you two have messed around, you’ve been almost completely dressed each time. Really, you’ve just been doing the same thing— dry humping but Steve always pulls your tits out. He actually stares at them sometimes, gets this look on his face that makes you feel like a million bucks. His eyes get all glassy and he looks dazed as he watches them bounce with your movements. It makes you feel sexy and you’ve never felt that way in your life. But being so exposed in broad daylight is rather intimidating.

“Yeah, maybe,” you reply shyly, cheeks ruddy at the thought of him seeing your body. “We’d have to go get my swimsuit, though.”

“We’re at a mall,” Steve chuckles, “You can just buy one.”

Well, you didn’t anticipate spending too much today. But again, you’re embarrassed so you won’t say that. You just shrug, “If I can find one.”

“I can help,” he grins, eyebrows raising as he nudges his side against you. Which just makes your face ten times more flushed. “Oh, look!” Steve points to the section of the store lined with swimsuits, “Perfect.”

The pair of you head that way. Steve motions at a red bikini, which is not something you’d usually wear. You’re a one piece kind of girl. But now that you’re thinking about it, the swim suit you have at home isn’t exactly sexy. And really, you want Steve to look at you with that dreamy look in his eyes again.

“That one’s nice,” he says, “And my trunks are red, so we’ll match.”

You pick up the top, looking it over when you realize you have no idea how to tell your size. You’re gonna have to try it on. “I need to try it on,” you tell Steve and grab a few sizes before making your way to the dressing rooms, Steve right behind you.

Much to Steve’s dismay, you don’t show him the bikini but you get the right size and get your pair of shoes. Steve buys you a smoothie on the way out. But what he does on the ride to his house is really what gets you. As he’s driving, he reaches his hand over and rests it on your thigh. His palm against your bare thigh makes them all tingly and you feel like the car is suddenly really hot, so you roll down the window. Looking out because you’re too shy to look at him. Steve squeezes your thigh and you clear your throat, shifting in your seat.

“You alright?” he asks, turning to you briefly.

“I’m fine,” you choke out as you look at him.

“Is this okay?” he squeezes your thigh again.

You swallow the lump rising in your throat and nod your head yes, “Yeah, it feels nice.”

“Good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with it and he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You’re really nervous, fixing your hair as you look in the mirror. You wished Steve gave you a towel to cover up with before you changed because now you have to make an entrance… in this bikini that feels like it barely covers anything. You swear one wrong move and your boobs gonna fly right out. But you think, Steve won’t mind that.

His face confirms it when you finally walk out onto the back patio, seeing Steve laying towels out on the pool loungers. He drops the towel in his hand and his lips part, holding his hand above his brows to shield the sun as he gawks at you. And thankfully, his reaction gives you a breath of confidence and you strut over to him, “Not too bad, huh?”

“Fucking unbelievable,” he breathes through a satisfied smile, “You look amazing.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your waist, dipping his face down to kiss your cheek.

“Steve!” you flush, bringing your hands up to your face. He grabs your wrists and kisses all over face, repeating that you look great over and over. You erupt in giggles, grabbing his hands and pull back.

“What? Too much?” he asks, looking down at you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

“I think… you need to cool off,” you say slyly before shoving him into the pool, jumping in right after him. Steve’s laughing when he comes up from the water, swimming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Good one,” he muses, looking fond, “Very clever.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kisses you then, and immediately you melt. Kissing Steve is like otherworldly. It’s like everything around you disappears and it’s just you two. His lips are soft yet firm, kissing you determinedly. His hands are big, cascading up and down your sides.

But then he pulls away and smiles, “Wanna race? I bet I can swim from this end to the other faster than you.”

“You’re on,” you bet and start swimming to the edge of the pool.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

After you two get out of the pool, your body is all tingly and needy. You dry off and can’t keep your eyes off of Steve’s body as he dries off. Eyes scanning over the constellations of moles scattering over his chest, arms and back. He catches you, biting is lip as he’s drying his hair.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I want…” you take a deep breath as your face flushes.

“What is it? You okay?” he asks, tilting his head as he gets a look of concern in his eyes.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, “ya know.. to do it.”

“Really?” he drops his towel, looking surprised.

“Uh huh,” you nod as you smile, so sure of yourself.

He grabs your hand and practically pulls you up to his bedroom. You fall back on his mattress and he’s crawling up between your legs, palm meeting your cheek gently as he crashes his lips into yours. It’s different than kisses before. Steve seems more urgent, more needy. His hands feel you everywhere, squeezing and pulling wherever he can. It’s intoxicating and makes your stomach twist, full of desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer and you can feel his cock strained behind his swim trunks rubbing against your core. It’s familiar, but a bit more charged. There’s more coming and it has your back arching. Steve breaks the kiss, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, writhing against him, “I’m sure.”

“Cool,” he breathes, moving his fingers to untie your bikini top and he pulls it off. His lips find your jaw, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever they can. Down your neck and over the curve of your breasts, then you feel his tongue against your perked nipple and you whine, knitting your fingers in his damp hair.

He flicks his tongue against it, looking up at your face as he broadly licks it before sucking it between his lips. You gasp, tilting your head back as you try to grind against him harder. You’re desperate for more friction there. Steve moans against your supple skin, and then his lips work lower. Down your stomach. And you no longer have his erection to grind against but his fingers dip into the waistband of your bottoms. Your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him in anticipation. He looks so pretty, the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains in his bedroom and casting beautifully on his strong eyebrows and sharp nose.

Steve peels your bottoms down your thighs and you move your legs to help him, hands moving to cover your chest. Otherwise, completely exposed to him. Steve kisses your hipbone, spreading your legs with his hands and then moves his mouth between them. Starts with kissing your thighs, but when he actually gets his mouth on your pussy, you cry out. It’s pleasure in a way you’ve never felt and it’s white hot, feel it everywhere. He licks through your folds, humming softly as he does so. It’s so warm and wet and lovely. Uses his plump lips when he does it, grazing against your folds. And he puts his mouth completely on you, sucks on your folds and his thumb lowers down to your hole, rubbing teasing circles around it and you gasp out. Eyes closing involuntarily as you tilt your head back, focused solely on how incredible this feels.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he makes you cum, your cry breaks off as it leaves your lips and your thighs squeeze his head while you ride it out. Steve watches you with a look of shock on his face, flattery, really. Impressed with himself at quick he made that happen. Smoothes his palms along the soft skin of your legs as he forces them open, coming up for air. His cheeks are flushed, a pretty pink blooming over them and the tip of his nose.

“Christ,” he exhales, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he beams up at you. “You okay, princess?”

Your chest heaves while you come down, eyes blinking open as you let out a sigh. The pet name makes your chest tighten, you want Steve to say it again, over and over. “So okay,” you gasp out as you sit up and look down at him.

He smiles cheekily, nudging his nose against your shaking thighs as he blinks up at you, “You’re sensitive, huh?”

“Nobody’s ever done that to me,” you admit, tucking your hair behind your ear as you flush.

He chuckles softly, keeps nuzzling against your thigh as he smoothes his palms down your calves. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

You nod enthusiastically at him, “W-wanna make you feel good.”

Steve pushes you on your back, gets himself on top of you and places a chaste kiss against your lips, mumbles against them, “That made me feel really good.”

Your hands find his hair, carding in the locks as you kiss his words and roll your hips up to meet him, “I wanna keep going. Maybe I can try.. returning the favor.”

The boy grunts softly into your mouth, the corners of his lips hitching up, “You ever done that before?”

“No,” you pout, feeling a little self conscious but more than that, eager. “I’m a really fast learner, though.”

“I’m.. I,” Steve laughs, breath hot against your mouth, “Might need a break after, but… hell, we’ve got all night.”

“A break?” you ask curiously and Steve nods against you, foreheads bumping together. He cups your cheek, kisses you tenderly.

“Mhm, can’t go again as quick,” he mumbles into your lips, grounds his hips down and you can feel him through his swim trunks. Hard and firm against your sensitive cunt.

You pull him back slightly, looking up at him tenderly as you say, “I really wanna try.”

He laughs again, breathless and it’s not mean, it makes your heart warm. The sound of him. Pretty and sweet. Makes you that much eager to please; to impress.

Steve rolls onto his back, inches up against his pillows and looks at you, eyes dark despite the fond smile spreading on his face. You sit beside him and your fingers find the elastic of his shorts, inching inside and looking up at him for guidance. He nods, short and soft. You pull down his damp trunks and his cock bounces out, long and thick against his abdomen. He helps rid of the shorts completely, kicking them off his ankles and then he rakes his fingers through your hair. Tilts his head as he looks down at you and says, “Just do what feels natural, princess.”

Your cheeks heat at the name, blooming down your neck and chest. Curious fingers graze down his length, Steve breathes out a pretty sound— almost a whine, kind of a sigh. Then you wrap your fingers around him, biting your lip at the warmth and weight. He inhales sharply, nodding at you as you lean forward and press your lips to the tip. Experimentally, you lick against the head of his cock and then drag your tongue across the edge of it. Steve groans, keeps stroking your cheek and forehead as he watches you with pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes out, “doing so good already.”

You’ve still got your fingers circled around his shaft, holding his cock up as you lick the tip like an ice cream cone. But you know you’re supposed to suck, that’s what you’ve been told at least. So you wrap your lips around the head and do just that. It punches a pretty sound from Steve’s throat, distinctly a whine. So you do it again and again and Steve keeps making that sound over and over before he says, “Move your hand, princess. Slow, up and down.”

Head feeling all dizzy, you listen and slowly stroke his cock up and down. But it’s kinda awkward— dry. You think it would work smoother if your palm was wet so you pull away and lick your hand before returning it to Steve’s cock, and you were right, the movement is so much easier like this and Steve moans, eyes blinking rapidly as he watches you.

“Such a fast learner, good girl,” he pants out and you’re smiling, cheeks swelling before you take his tip back between your lips.

You like this— a lot. Grinding down against the mattress for some friction, thighs all hot and slick with arousal. It’s the way he reacts, the sounds he makes and the way his face contorts in pleasure. Steve was pretty before but he looks even prettier like this. He bites at his lower lip, makes it even pinker and plumper. You sink a little more of him into your mouth, careful with your teeth as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip and then suck. Your jaw aches slightly but it’s so worth it. Steve’s fingers slide into the roots of your hair, gripping softly as he moans out little encouragements.

“So pretty, so pretty like this.”

And it’s kind of silly because you think he looks so pretty like this. You squeeze his shaft a little tighter as you stroke him, out of pure excitement and Steve groans, guttural and low as he swears, “Fuuuuck.”

You suck harder on his tip and continue moving your fingers up and down his length, curving your palm on each upstroke because Steve’s eyes roll back slightly and you want more of that.

“Just like that— holy—- fuckfuckfuck,” Steve pants and moans, “I’m gonna cum.”

Out of pure curiosity, you don’t pull off. Because also, when you came, Steve didn’t pull away. He makes a choked, broken sound and releases, hot and thick on your tongue. And you’d heard all your coworkers complain about the taste but Steve is sweet, not bitter like you’ve been told. You don’t hate the taste at all, though the texture is another story. But you swallow it down all the same and Steve’s watching and gasping for air as you pull away. He grabs hold of your face, pulls you close and then wraps his arms around your body, kissing you fiercely, bruisingly.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

It happens later. Steve’s parents away on yet another business trip, a white lie told to yours about staying the night at a friends and there you are. On his couch. Steve laid on his back, you nestled between his thighs with your cheek on his chest and his legs tangled with you. He plays with your hair as the TV plays late night informercials. You’re not paying attention, mind wandering as you subtly take in the smell of Steve. Musk and summer, his honey scented shampoo and the sugary candy you two shared on his breath. Fans your face hotly and lovely. Tickles against the ridge of your brows, cascades down to your nostrils and it’s rather intoxicating. Ushers you to lift your face and inch up his body, wanting to taste as you brush your lips against his. His hand snakes down your spine, onto the soft skin at the small of your back, your shirt pulled up just slightly. Steve kisses you back tenderly, sighing so softly you almost miss it.

A thought tugs at the back of your head and you ask against his lips, “What are we?”

Steve hums, eyebrow raising as he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“Like… we spend every day together, we kiss, we… do other stuff,” you swallow hard, chest tightening with fear as you repeat, “So what are we?”

He nudges his nose against yours, “What do you wanna be, princess?”

“Yours,” you admit, a whisper. Almost silent.

“You are mine,” Steve replies, squeezing your hip in his hand. You flush something mad, trying to surprise the giggle of excitement from bubbling out of your throat. It’s fruitless, the sound erupting from you as your cheeks swell. Steve kisses you again, softly and asks against your lips, “You wanna be my girlfriend, princess?”

You nod as you kiss back, “Mhm.”

“Then you’re my girlfriend,” Steve agrees easily, his breath smells so sweet, makes your head all fuzzy.

“And you’re my boyfriend?” you test, hand moving up to cup his jaw.

“You better believe it,” he mumbles, you can hear the smile but even better you can feel it against your lips. You kiss him again, more intent behind it this time— fingernails softly scratching at his jaw. Steve drags his tongue along your bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss which you eagerly agree as you part your lips. He tastes like candy, tooth achingly sweet when you welcome his skilled tongue against your own. It heats up quick, your hips dancing together as the pair of you pant into each others mouths. Steve’s hands lower to the fat of your ass, kneading and pulling. Your thighs feel all tingly, core aching with desperation for him.

You’re determined, you’ve been wanting Steve in that way for so long it feels like and he’s been taking his time with you. Testing the waters when you would’ve handed it over to him that first night in Scoops Ahoy!

“Stevie,” you pant against his mouth, “need you.”

“You have me, princess,” he retorts, smiling sweetly as he uses his leverage on your ass to grind you down against him. You can feel his length, hard and firm against your core and you whimper, needy.

“Need you— Steve, want you so bad,” you babble into his mouth as you writhe against him.

He taps your bum, “Up. Bedroom.”

You obey, don’t have to be told twice, holding his hand as he leads you to his bedroom. He kisses you once you’re inside, guides you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you fall into it, pulling Steve with you, refusing to pull your lips away from his. Which is a feat when you two start undressing one another. When you do have to pull away to rid of articles, you whine and Steve chuckles, gives you what you want seconds later. Smoothes his hands down your naked body as he licks into your mouth. He pulls back, on his knees between your legs as he licks the tips of his fingers and brings them to your core, exhaling sharply once he’s met with the evidence of just how much you need him.

This is it, you think. As he licks his fingers again and smears the saliva over his aching tip, guiding it towards your entrance and you whine out, just when skin meets skin. Readier than ever, overwhelmingly desperate to feel Steve inside you. Your back arches as he sinks in, just the tip of him stretching you open. It’s pleasure incarnate, radiates through your stomach and eats at all your nerves.

“More,” you plead, grabbing onto his biceps as you roll your hips. Steve sinks in deeper and it’s a little intense, searing and hot and also so, so, so perfect. Pulls a high pitched moan from you. Steve’s rubbing soothing circles against your stomach.

“Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”

You nod, digging your nails into his skin. Making little crescent indents. He lowers his mouth to yours, grazing your lips together as he sheathes his cock deeper inside. You gasp out, eyes clenching tightly at the burn. Steve kisses you through it, whispers words of encouragement there. Princess this and princess that. Pushes through this barrier and it’s all white hot pleasure. Bright light behind your eyelids as you moan out appreciation, adoration, desperation. His hips still, giving you the opportunity to adjust. Kisses you stupid with sugary sweetness. Tastes just like candy. Your hands are all over him, chest, stomach, shoulders, neck and back. Crying out soft little praising sounds.

He grits his teeth, eyebrows tangled as he pleads, “Please— princess, can I move?”

“Please,” you beg, “Gimme…” the thoughts lost as Steve winds his hips back and pushes them back down into you. A moan interrupting, voice wrecked already and Steve swallows it, kisses it away as he rolls his hips steadily. Keeps this rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and steady, candied uh-uh-uh’s fall from your lips.

Steve’s left hand holds himself up, palm to the mattress while his right grips tightly at your hip. Your legs open, ankles hooking over the backs of his thighs and your hands are still everywhere, taking in whatever you can. The way he’s stretching you out and filling you up at the same time is intoxicating, euphoria dripping all over you. You’re almost mad that you’d waited so long but it’s all too perfect. And maybe Steve’s been right and waiting is what made this moment the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

His lips are brutal against yours, pushing and pulling. Desperate and hungry. These pretty grunts and moans mushing against your lips.

“Steve,” you whine out, “god…”

He moves to grab your jaw, tilting your head back into the pillows as he moves his hips quicker, harder. Makes your head spin, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. All you can really do is lay back and take it, mind gone all numb. Your hips search his out, rocking back into him with every thrust. The tip of his cock reaching something fierce and overwhelming inside you. Brushes against this spot so wonderfully that tears prick your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.

“So perfect for me,” he mumbles into your mouth, “so pretty, so fuck— fucking gorgeous, princess.”

This wave rushes up on you like nothing before, punches the breath out of your lungs as you grip onto his back, nails scratching down the mole specked skin and Steve groans roughly against your mouth. Your eyes are open but you’re blinded by stars, exploding like fireworks as your eyebrows furrow and you emit a sound so loud, bordering on a cry. It’s like the drop of a roller coaster but a million times more intense, you’re not on this earth for the seconds it happens. Legs wrapping around his waist, crying out during the aftershocks of it. Steve’s panting against your lips, little whines and moans. Pretty sounds that just elongate the utter ecstasy ripping through your body.

“Fuckfuck— shit, princess, I’m gonna—“ Steve pulls out of you abruptly, fingers gripping around his cock as he spills over onto your stomach. Makes a choked and broken sound as he does it, your eyes are on his face. Watching the pleasure contort his features in a way that has you obsessed. He pants, chest heaving as he pushes his hair back. Catches his breath, leans down and kisses you softly before exiting the bed. You whine in protest, reaching your hands out for him.

Steve smiles sweetly at you, grabs a dirty towel from his hamper and moves to wipe his cock. You watch in awe, still coming back down to earth. He moves back towards the bed, using the towel to clean off your stomach. He drops it to the floor and curls up next you, pulling your face to his and kisses you stupid.

“Worth the wait?” he asks, teasingly.

You giggle and say against his lips, “When can we do it again?”

He laughs, pulling your body flush to his as he says, “You’re gonna kill me, princess.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve request

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avelera · 3 months ago

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hi, I hope you don't mind me coming to kind of vent in your inbox (please toss this out if you do) but I was reading your post on the contrasting way Viktor and Jayce view their first meeting and it got me thinking about how some people just sorta brush aside Jayce's suicide attempt here as being somehow pathetic or an overreaction to what they consider a slap on the wrist and I kinda get really mad about that perspective because I don't think people really follow through on what the trial actually meant for Jayce and what the consequences reasonably could have been. people seem to think he was just embarrassed by the trial without understanding that that kind of reputational hit can be, and clearly was, ruinous.

setting aside entirely the emotional/psychological repercussions of having the thing he'd dedicated roughly 2/3's of his life to taken away, his very public trial ended with his own mother making an insanity plea on his behalf and his extremely wealthy and influential sponsor dropping him like he was radioactive and the actual ruling body of the city declaring him dangerously incompetent. do any of those people who deride him for the suicide attempt actually take the time to think about what that outcome means for him in a social and professional context? he jokes to Caitlyn about working in his family factory but honestly, it is entirely within the realm of possibility that the fallout of the trial has made him a social and professional pariah and his reputation is in such dire straits that he may be entirely unemployable within Piltover, perhaps even to the point of being toxic to his own family business if they take the reputation hit by association with him.

it's not actually hyperbole or an overreaction for him to stand in the wreckage of his life and think his life is over, to be at a complete loss as to how to move forward or come to the belief that moving forward is impossible and despair, especially if he doesn't have a support network which he pretty clearly doesn't. his only connections appear to be his mother and Caitlyn and, for obvious reasons, they're not viable at this time.

he was drowning and Viktor threw him a lifeline and he spends the literal rest of the story trying to return the favor.

Sorry for the delay in responding, there's a lot here I want to address.

First of all, I absolutely agree. I think people underestimate just how much that trial left his life in wreckage. That said, there's a few points I'd like to add some nuance to from my perspective, along the lines of YEAH THIS WAS REALLY BAD and people underestimate how much Viktor did for Jayce with his vote of confidence.

(This is gonna be a long post y'all but I have a LOT of thoughts and feelings about Jayce here so buckle up if you do proceed.)

1 ) The Kirammans dropping him as his patrons is absolutely devastating. It's actually the moment I think I hated Cassandra Kiramman for the most, which was turning Jayce away from her door at his lowest point, and cutting him off from Caitlyn, who seems to be his only friend before Viktor. I think it also demonstrates just how severe the crime was that she did so, by the way, I don't think she was just being cruel for the sake of it. But the fact that in 1.04 she's then showing off Jayce as an accomplishment of her house is particularly infuriating as a result. It's also no exaggeration to say that the Kiramman rejection was the final straw for him. After that, he decided to take his own life, so Cassandra would have been, in my opinion, directly responsible for his death (ironically saving her own life down the line, but then Arcane S1 is a series of hinging butterfly effect moments) if not for Viktor.

2 ) One layer of nuance I wanted to add to the Kiramman rejection in particular that you mentioned is the idea of him working at the Talis hammer factory because I think about this a LOT.

I do want to push back a little on the idea that he wouldn't be able to make a living for himself at the Talis hammer factory. To me (as someone whose family has a family business, though I don't work for it), it was never in doubt Jayce would have been able to work there the rest of his life. It might have been the only place he could get a job in Piltover, in fact, at least one with any sort of prestige or intellectual pursuit attached (basically, with anyone attached or graduated from the Academy).

However, I think Jayce would have had to work in a non-scientific part of the factory, either out on the floor or in the back office. And this is what I've been wanting to address in meta for a while now.

Caitlyn asks him what he's going to do next and Jayce says, "Work for the Talis hammer factory, I guess?" and she exclaims, "You can't do that!"

I think the nuance missing from your point that I'd like to add my view of that scene to is that Caitlyn is essentially saying, "That would kill you."

I get the very strong impression that Caitlyn and Jayce bonded over being members of their family who wanted bigger things than what their parents wanted for them. It's basically there on the page in this exchange.

We explore directly that Caitlyn wants to be a detective instead of working in politics like her mother, and pursues her dream despite adversity and her mother's disapproval.

But I think from this exchange and the one Jayce also has with his mother Ximena, we can glean that the Talis's also wanted Jayce to work for the factory, the family business, instead of going to the Academy to pursue his dream of magic.

(Also as a person whose family has a family business, that I don't work for, that has their own career and faced a lot of consternation from my family in my desire to be a writer, I feel this one very keenly.)

Jayce to me reads as someone who had to fight his family all his life to avoid going into the family business, in his pursuit of something greater.

With the Hextech dream taken away, all that's left to him is his family business, the thing I'd argue we have evidence that he's been fighting to avoid his whole life. It doesn't inspire him. It's not what he wants.

Joining the Talis factory would kill him. And that's what Caitlyn points out, and that's when he realizes she's right and goes to finish the job by his own hand instead. Further evidence I would say that working for his family business would represent a death of the soul to him, such that a physical death is preferable. But since his family built the business, and his mother clearly has reservations about his pursuit of magic, I think we can safely say he's been feeling similar pressures to Caitlyn to conform and join the business instead.

3 ) Now to go back to Viktor, I think this is another reason that Viktor literally and spiritually saved Jayce's life. Jayce outright says to his mother that if his own family won't believe in him, he'll find someone who will. Whether you read Viktor/Jayce as platonic or romantic (spouses are family, after all, which is how I read it), Viktor is Jayce's family from that point forward.

But Viktor doesn't bring Jayce back from the brink just by believing in him at his lowest moment (which is so powerful it can't be underestimated, btw) he also gives Jayce a bit of tough love too just when Jayce needs it.

Like many children of privilege (I'd firmly put Mel in this category, since she too is "trapped in the family business" I'd argue), Jayce saw himself at rock bottom after he lost his patron, the benefits of his House name, his family's support, his research, his equipment, access to his one friend, his access to the Academy, and his reputation.

Viktor points out that he never had any of those things growing up.

I think this is a welcome slap in the face for Jayce. Viktor rose to be the Dean's assistant on ability alone, without any of the scaffolding of privilege, and it humbles Jayce just when he needs it. Viktor is telling him that Jayce already has everything he needs to succeed and that others like Viktor have gotten further with less.

So not only does Viktor give his vote of confidence, he materially shows Jayce there is a way to achieving his dreams without all of the things he just lost.

Not only that, he's won the respect and assistance of someone who has done it before, someone who admires him for what he's done, someone who will help him make this dream a reality when no one else would.

Of course Jayce dedicated his life to Viktor after that. Of course he saw Hextech as their shared dream after that. I'd argue that of course he saw his life as belonging to Viktor after that point, because Viktor saved it.

#jayvik #arcane meta #arcane #jayce talis #caitlyn kiramman #viktor arcane #ximena talis

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lurochar · 7 months ago

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Yandere Alastor x Reader who refuses to talk and not just to him but to everyone. Maybe one day he came off way too strong to her and ever since then she hasn’t spoken a word. How would he react? It’s almost like she’s ignoring him as she always has the far off look in her eyes even when he’s speaking to her.

Not sure if this is quite what you requested, Anon, but hopefully it’s a little satisfactory >_<

Warnings: Yandere!Alastor, Violence

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

Everyone is quite worried about you. They have no idea why you suddenly just stopped… talking, but Husk and Vaggie have a pretty good guess and it definitely has something to do with their hotelier because of course it does.

Alastor, on the other hand, thinks your reaction to his… proposal (not literal, but aww, if you took it that way, he wouldn’t have refused your darling little self) is cute at first. So you’re playing hard to get, making him work for it? Usually, it’s demons coming to him asking and begging for deals in exchange for their souls, not the other way around.

Perhaps he was a little too forward, blunt in asking for your soul right away? It seems he was a little too eager to have you solely for himself that he completely forgot his manners – he didn’t woo you like a gentleman should.

After a proper courtship, only then should he have sweet talked you into giving him your soul.

But after a while, you refusing to speak, to him, to anyone – just avoiding everyone in general, completely spooked by the near loss of your soul (and Alastor, on some level, can understand your way of thinking, you are relatively new to Hell after all), well, it’s starting to irritate Alastor a little.

He does want to hear your lovely voice again.

So, he starts out small, casual things – acts of service, maybe cooking your favourite meal, doing one of your chores around the hotel, buying a trinket on one of his outings. He does hope you’ll be at least polite enough to thank him for what he’s doing for you, but all he gets is a shaky nod before you’re running to the ‘safety’ to your room.

That’s fine, there are other ways to make people talk.

He just didn’t want to have to use them with you, but he didn’t realize you were this stubborn and if his kindness was wasted…

Alastor goes to collect any and all acquaintances, friends, and family members of yours to be rounded up and brought to his radio tower. His shadow has forcibly sealed you in Alastor’s room at the hotel and you have to listen in absolute horror as familiar screams are being broadcasted to you through the multiple radios in Alastor’s room.

“My sweet Doe, I will stop this, but we must make a deal first. Do promise me you will never give me this dreadful silent treatment again and I won’t lay a finger on any of these souls again. Do we have a deal?”

You are completely frozen in fear, the screams echoing in your head. Is this a trick? If you go there, is that what Alastor would do to you too? You don’t answer Alastor’s question, you can’t.

There is a sigh over the radio and Alastor’s shadow perks up, picking you up a moment later and you’re silently panicking, wondering if these are your last moments alive as you and the shadow travel through the voids right into Alastor’s radio tower.

“Interesting. I didn’t believe I would have to go this far, but…”

A breath escapes you and you tense when Alastor pulls you up from the ground, drawing your back to his chest (though he has to lean down some) as he places his hands tightly on your shoulders, claws ripping the fabric of your clothes. “While I may prefer the auditory experience, some are visual learners, I suppose.”

At some point, you believe you completely dissociate, unable to keep watching Alastor brutally torture your friends outside the hotel and the few family members you had found and reunited with in Hell and it’s then that Alastor strikes.

He does cast a spell on you after he’s finished with what started this all, his proposal for your soul and now he’s thinking about it, a real proposal may be coming very soon.

It’s a spell intended to scramble your mind, thoughts, and memories if you ever decide to talk with Charlie and the others again (he honestly thought about just stashing you away elsewhere, but seeing as he spent the majority of his time at the Hazbin Hotel, you would be safest there too), that you would not recall anything that Alastor had just done to you or that he now owned your soul to begin with.

After all, he certainly did not need Charlie to call Lucifer up if it ever did get out what he had put you through just to get you to speak again and to get you to sign your soul over to him.

Alastor had what he wanted and he would not let a little deadbeat ruin it.

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #yandere alastor x reader

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weebsinstash · 2 months ago

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Someone sent me an ask about, "do I have any angsty ideas for yan Lucifer x Reader" and it's like honey I have THE angsty idea. It's basically an idea I've already shared except bumped up to 11 inspired by miscommunication and misunderstanding tropes like in all those manhwa and c-dramas I love

So I guess to just come right out and say it, because the attempt to answer the ask a little more naturally got way too long, my angstiest saddest idea for Lucifer x Reader, one of those really miserable, wallowing in sadness kind of prompts, is: you die, find out Lucifer is your soulmate, you reject him not wanting trouble and also he literally already has two wives and a daughter and it feels, weird intruding on his family unit, but you two eventually become closer and through some alcohol related shenanigans you get pregnant and Lucifer proposes you get married, but a few months before the wedding, Lilith shows back up, Lucifer is all over her, and instead of a scenario where Lucifer is managing to juggle both you and Lilith and Lilith is going out of her way to include you, the second she's back Lucifer prioritizes her almost exclusively, and it eventually leads to you beginning to become so stressed and hostile you wind up getting into arguments with both Lilith and Lucifer, a rift beginning to form between you as Lucifer becomes more upset there's tension between you and his wife, and bwcause of the constant extreme stress and potential other factors out of your control, you wind up losing the baby.... and then Lucifer accuses you of doing something to the pregnancy to get back at him, accuses you of trying to get his attention or manipulate him using the baby, and by the time he finds out the truth, you've already been grieving alone and have completely closed off your heart

I can just picture, how incredibly painful it would be, to not just have to be grieving, but for your partner to basically be saying, "well... haven't you been jealous of me giving this other person a little more of my time? Didn't you do this to get back at me?" when you are literally a victim. I feel like that would be the worst for me: knowing I'm innocent but that someone who is supposed to love and trust me even considered I was capable of such an awful thing. When people reveal they think things like that about you, it damages your relationship, because, why don't they know who you really are? Why would they think you're capable of doing something you're not? They think you're more cruel and inhumane than you actually are? What other things do they think you're capable of, then?

I can just picture.... you begin miscarrying and Lucifer isn't even around; he's off doing something with Lilith and Charlie and you're completely alone to get yourself to the hospital. You lose your baby alone. You discharge yourself against medical advice because you feel like you've truly lost everything. You're trudging back up to the Hotel and Lucifer just greets you like nothing has happened because he doesnt even know, and...

My brain just really keeps making it so dramatic and painful, like, a scenario where before Lilith came back Lucifer would come up to you and say things like "how are you two doing?" And putting his hands on your belly because he with his powers and Hell being his dominion can feel the life growing inside of you, and, after you miscarry he's walking up to you like normal and just, freezes. His mouth hangs open as his eyes drop from your face down to your tummy and then, slowly dragging back up to you

First words out of his mouth, "... what did you do?"

You're too hurt and horrified to even defend yourself as he starts completely breaking down, because for him, he isn't grieving the loss of your child WITH you: he's thinking you intentionally killed it and he feels genuinely betrayed by you. He's thinking not only has he lost his baby, but that it was something you intentionally caused. He just starts screaming all sorts of things and accusations on his grief, "why would you do this just to hurt me?!" "Out of everything you could have done to get my attention, our fucking BABY?!?" "I know you've been jealous of me and Lilith but this?! THIS?!?!" "We were supposed to be a family!!! How am I going to tell my daughter you killed her baby brother?!"

It twists into a fucked up scenario where Lucifer genuinely believes you caused your miscarriage but even through it all he still has this unbreakable demented love for you, and just... imagine after that first day with all of his grieving and screaming that you're essentially... locked away. You aren't allowed to leave the Hotel anymore. Lucifer doesn't take you out. He'll barely come to see you. You basically don't leave your room anymore. Charlie can't even face you; in a way she blames herself for trusting you and, allowing you to hurt her, her father, and... what would've been her baby brother, and this all of course means Vaggie no longer tolerates you as well. The only people in the Hotel who treat you with anything resembling kindness are people who genuinely don't give a fuck about the situation. Part of me wonders if Alastor would be your only confidant, as the only one who would have any skepticism. Since he's so attached to his own mother, I like the idea that seeing Reader be excited about motherhood drew him in more to you, made him more attached and protective, and while he can't exactly do anything to intervene, he gives you the occasional small kindness that keeps you from going completely insane

but you wanna know what the saddest part of this idea I've had that keeps coming back and scratching my brain. The idea that, after you miscarry, because of the extreme stress and trauma of the loss and how much everything hurts at that exact moment, while you are there at the hospital, you refuse and put off scheduling the... removal procedure, and you develop essentially an extreme trauma where you do not want the doctors to remove the deceased fetus because, in your mind, your baby was the only and last person who ever had and ever will truly ever love you, and you can't bear literally cannot bear the thought of your son leaving your body in any other way other than being born and being able to be held in your arms, but... that's not..... viable anymore.... so over time you just start going septic and start becoming seriously ill. You keep talking to your belly like your baby can still hear you. You think to yourself, that you and your baby can rot away together. You'll be together for as long as you can. They won't take your baby from you. They can't take him away. You won't let them

meanwhile Lucifer has been been clinging to Lilith in his grief, yet, she can't bring him the same comfort that she used to be able to; she realizes the power of the feelings and the connection Lucifer has with you, how it's unique and different from his love for her. His love for you and his pain is so deep that Lilith cannot even properly soothe his heart, and he'll even hide some moments from her, too, become a little closed off to her like anyone else.

Eventually the hospital calls, but they call Lucifer because for one you no longer are allowed to have a phone and aren't answering their attempts to contact you first but also, since Lucifer was the father, he's technically involved. Just. Just picture Lucifer in the depths of anger and grief getting this phonecall, "hey sir? Sir? Hospital here. We know this is a time of deep mourning but have you and your wife (he was secretly having them call you his wife long before you two were engaged) decided when to schedule her procedure? This is going to get extremely dangerous if we don't act soon"

Like really just picture you miscarried like WEEKS AGO and Lucifer has been keeping you basically in home imprisonment and you've become almost completely socially isolated and cut off from the rest of Hell and Lucifer is JUST NOW finding off from like some random fucking clerk, "abortion? Sir, no, what? She had a miscarriage, I was there??? She hemorrhaged??? She kept screaming if it came down to her and the baby that we need to save the baby??? Sir??? Have you... spoken to your wife???"

but Lucifer is still in a state of denial, because, once his brain truly processes what's happened, that's when he has to re-process all the trauma and anger and sadness and guilt all over again, so, here he is, not going to you, but to the hospital, and now he's looking at security footage of you being wheeled down the hallway screaming your baby's name.

Can you picture like, the recording has audio and at one point you start to call out for him and you stop, and Lucifer watches as you start praying to God and asking God for help instead, wailing about "there's no soul more innocent than an unborn baby, please don't take my baby, please don't punish him because of me". Lucifer sees that you truly didn't trust him when you needed him most. It hurts almost as bad as the loss of his son.

I can also picture, maybe in your panic and grief you say things like, "please, please save my baby, he's the only person who loves me" or "please, don't let MY son die" or just... lucifer can see IN the hospital that you were already having these extreme doubts he loved you even before he accused you of, you know, being a baby murderer

Lucifer having Extreme Mental Breakdown 2 Electric Boogaloo right there in the hospital as he finally fully processes that you organically miscarried and he like a fucking dumbass accused you of being responsible and proceeded to lock you away and treat you like shit. His brain wants to reject the reality immediately: no, no, he never would have hurt you like this if he'd known!! Why wouldn't you just tell him you miscarried?! Why would you let him believe you were a killer?!

It's way way wayyyyy too late for apologies but he goes to you to give you one anyway, but more importantly, he has to get you treated, and it's salt in his wounds as he has to basically force you to go to the hospital, I mean literally has to drug you or knock you out with magic because you're screaming and howling at him like an animal that "he can take everything else from you but you won't let him separate you from YOUR baby" and throwing things at him and even trying to stab him. Now Lucifer gets to feel like shit Part 3 because at the hospital here the doctors are, "dude she is so fucking sick right now??? nurse look at these charts she has lost so much weight just from a few weeks ago??? bro there is so much infection in her fucking blood she's gonna start seizing or some shit" and it's just, another thing to stab Lucifer in his heart, that on top pf the miscarriage he also had no idea you were sick, or worse, he noticed certain signs beginning to develop and he accused you of being on drugs or drunk and brushed it off because at that point he was so angry at you that, maybe a small part of him thought you deserved to be sick and feel shitty after "what you did"

here you are, coming to in the hospital, kind of in a way re-traumatized because, now you know that. Your pregnancy truly, truly is finally over, that your son truly is dead because now he's no longer even inside of you. Lucifer is, almost pathetic in his desperation to show you he knows the truth now and apologizes and, begs for your forgiveness. I mean, after all, you guys still have the wedding next month--

I could genuinely keep going and going to the point I could just write the fic itself but I wouldn't know where to end this idea outside of, Reader does in fact eventually heal but you're always going to be Lucifer's little wife-prisoner because, not o ly does he just love you so so so much but obviously now he's got uh Some Serious Fucking Trauma Now on top of all his other you know, crazy lil yandere habits, so OBVIOUSLY he has to make up to you all the pain he caused and make sure you're happy and healthy forever right? Because you two are still gonna get married and be together forever right? And.... since you two will be together forever... that means you'll eventually let him try to have another baby with you, right? And.... you'll agree, because he still loves you and you still love him.... right? He'll fix everything, he PROMISES he'll fix everything, but, you just, have to be willing to give him another chance....

#Ugh its so sad fjfjcjfnf #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hellaverse #sinprompts #yandere stuff

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nsharks · 29 days ago

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Bruh throughout all these months of reading BB I always pictured Blue coming from two happily married loving parents. Meaning I love the idea of Ghost having been in love with Sara & being a good (decent I guess bc he’s Ghost) husband to her. It makes him more attractive to me tbh that he was a good family man bc that means he’s gotta have good morals and a protective provider mentality. It’s almost like it gives him an even stronger base of commitment & loyalty in a way that the military could never have given him. Also makes the backstory/lore to him so much more deep & heartbreaking. A man who lost his wife but had to fend not only for himself but their child and along the way he finds his soulmate. I love to see a man with a heartbreaking traumatizing loss of a good marriage/wife still find love after. To me it shows that the new love interest is truly their light at the end of the deep dark harrowing tunnel that they needed in order to feel happiness—well as much happiness as a post apocalyptic world can allow—again. A child is something to live/fight for bc of how deeply the love runs for them. And to have a partner that equally cares/fights for your child creates a completely different type of deep love & respect. Someone they can rely on and trust to raise the child. A “teammate” like no other. Call it cliche but it’s literally them against the world of danger & chaos shielding their child. Which is essentially what parents are or should be. So I like the idea of Ghost having loved Sara but finding out that he can love & trust Twix makes the love he’ll feel for her so much more profound (:

Everyone has their own ideas and feelings about his past with Sara! I've had their backstory in my head from the verrrry beginning, so we'll see how it goes!

#ask

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theshipdiaries · 1 month ago

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I can't go through losing another ship. I just can't. All I do is lose and honestly? It hurts me like someone I personally knew and loved died. I don't know why it hurts me this deeply. But it's crazy. I cried more when Klaus Mikaelson died than when my grandfather who I loved deeply died. To be fair he was 96 he WANTED TO DIE and literally stopped eating on purpose so he would die because he was bored out of his mind and all his friends had died and felt like he had no purpose anymore. It's not like you can have long term goals at his age. So we all saw it coming and I knew he wanted it and was happy so It brought me comfort.

BUT KLAUS MIKAELSON'S DEATH? Totally unexpected, felt like a huge betrayal. And it just sent me into a deep spiral and I'm still mourning him. Cried for 3 days locked in my room. Every once in a while I still cry. It's been 6 years AND I HATE IT. Because it's so stupid. HE IS NOT REAL. Just ink on a script and fake everything. And yet it hurts. It hurts so much. Losing Klaroline was like losing a part of myself. Something I had loved for so long, something I had invested so much time in, been obsessed with for so long.

And then sometimes karamel makes me cry. They were the representation of true love for me. True soft good love. What everyone deserves. And I cry at their loss. And the injustice of Kara ending up alone and sad. The message that if you are a woman you have to choose to either be strong and independent or be in love. And it was made explicitly clear that Kara wanted to get married and have a family. SHE LONGED FOR IT. But they didn't let her. They punished her for it. The same writers who forced the character to want it. But all the other male superheroes? They were applauded for it.

Most other ships don't make me cry but anger me deeply. Like bellarke and barchie and Hyde and Jackie. REYLO.

And now? I'm terrified for Kastle. I can't lose them too. I thought I was safe. The show was cancelled and there was never a resolution but it ended in both literally confessing their love. Karen begging him to choose her and telling him there is nothing he could do to change her feelings for him. That she would risk it all and run away with him. Him confessing that he doesn't want to feel this. He is not ready to feel this. Who is he without his war? He doesn't know. But he knows he loves her. She means everything to him. I was fine with that ending. Even with him REJECTING HER. Because it was made obvious that he loved her. But his arc wasn't over. He needed more time. And the writers had respect for the ship. Understood it.

But now? I have no idea what they might do. They might pretend they were never anything to each other. They might kill her off. They might betray all of us and destroy the characters completely. Just like with bellarke just like with Hyde and Jackie. Ignore everything stablished and stab us fans in the back. Treat us like we are stupid and undeserving of respect.

I CANT GO THROUGH THAT PAIN AGAIN. I know what it's like and it destroys something in me EACH TIME. Again, it's like someone I loved very deeply died. I don't know why. But it hurts. And I just don't know if I have it in me. I'm so scared. Terrified. More than for my future or for anything.

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dinogoofymutated · 10 months ago

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OK!! some notes on episode 9 because I have a LOT to say

WHAT THE FUCK.

Ok first of all, I kinda loved this episode. The character dynamics between everyone was so good! Although I wish we got to see Jean and Storm talk about Madelyne and Nathan, because as far as I know she has no idea. I mean, surely they had to have a conversation about it, because why is there suddenly no baby in the house? But still.

I know we're supposed to be mad at Roberto Right now, but I just can't. It's obvious that he didn't really understand the extent of which going to war on magneto's side would entail. We can see that through the genuine feelings he was showing while fighting Jubilee. He didn't want to fight her, he regretted it the moment he started, but he didn't think that she would fight him back either. Roberto isn't exactly an X-men veteran, so I don't think he fully realized that he was in over his head. And Jubilee? Her heartbreaking "what about me?" FUCK. OH. MY HEART. Roberto really wasn't thinking about the full situation when he sided with Magnus.

The Jean and Cable fight has me heartbroken. Because we know from seeing the fight with Madelyne that sinister is just using Cable’s anger and polarizing it. And the fact that he doesn't see Jean as his mom, but Jean has all the memories from Madelyne? Hell she spoke about how she can remember the pregnancy and I'm sure she still has some feelings about Cable as a son. Also, I really fuckimg hope the ending of that scene doesn't mean she's dead (again) because to be honest I'd be really pissed off.

It was kinda sexy getting to see Cable's powers tho

And the fucking ending??? THE FUCKING ENDING??? FUCK. I really want to know what Rogue was thinking while watching a member of her family literally HAVE HIS BONES REMOVED. Is she still going to choose magneto after this? Is she going to place the blame on Logan for fighting in the first place? Imagine when storm finds out, after she had already expressed her emotions about permanent power loss. UGH.

I need to write some Logan fluff after this this is bulllshit.

-an added note, I kinda feel for the professor in this one. Hell yeah I'm mad at him, but the pain he's been going through kinda hits my heart. The scene where he wakes up, looks to the other side of his bed to find Lillandra obviously not there, and the difference between having the ability to walk and loosing it? :( and he really seems to be going through it emotionally. He was absolutely thinking only about the idealistic life he thought he was leaving his students but in the end he completely fucked it up. Sorry buddy, but maybe do that once the fight has been finished next time.

#x men 97 #goofyspeaks #x men #x men comics #x men headcannons #Wolverine #cable #jean grey #sunspot #jubilee #magneto #xmen rogue

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crown-prince-zuko · 4 months ago

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I love so deeply that Jinx accepting herself has made her stronger and funnily enough caused her to form a found family dynamic. What I also love, is Vi finally calling her by her sister's name. I know that everyone will take away their own perspective on Jinx's identity, but as a person with CPTSD and a lot of other mental illnesses - I see myself in her a lot. To me, when Vi pushes to call Jinx "Powder" all through the first season - it really felt like Vi refusing to acknowledge the trauma that Jinx had been through that shaped who she is today. For me, when I came out the other end of a lot of egregious things in my life - I was a completely different person and I had to mourn the loss of who I could have been had those things never happened to me. I also had people who expected me to act like the person I was before those events occurred, and I will say that very few things outside of that felt as demeaning and painful. - to not acknowledge who I am now meant ignoring how my trauma impacted me

Additionally, when I started to accept who I was NOW after everything, I became more confident, and started healing. Jinx embracing that she is a "jinx" still has some complications with the idea she believes she is a negative force in everyone's life, but it also has allowed her to live without constantly rejecting who she is. She has literally freed herself of her own expectation to be someone she isn't for other people, and of course I don't agree with her actions to the fullest, but it is empowering for me to see a character process their identity through and after trauma in a way I understand.

#arcane spoilers #jinx arcane #arcane s2 #arcane #neurodiversity #trauma #vi arcane

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socksual-innuendos · 21 days ago

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I've always said that Raul's quest endings seem a bit misplaced/misdirected and I feel like it's time I finally get around to explaining why.

So, in reality, I think given Raul's backstory and the situation we find him in, the retirement ending doesn't make sense to me. Accept you're an old man and leave the gun slinging to the new generation....maybe, for someone who's actually long hauled fighting and not done scraps only when emotions ran high.

Raul makes cracks about being an old, grumpy man, and while we know ghoulification slows aging/he ghouled when he was in his 30s, "being old" seems like a red herring for his real conflict; isolation.

Raul isolates himself like crazy. We see this in his shack, his town wandering, the outskirts of communities, his "Old Miguel" persona. Even his sees-you-as-Her obsession with Claudia screams outside looking in. He craves community in some fashion and he denies himself it for several reasons. And honestly, denies might he too strong of a word here. The man has 2 charisma, he very well might not know how to integrate into a post apocalyptic society.

I say keep Raul's Ghost Vaquero end as one option, one that reinforces this outsider burden he holds fast to but gives him a new purpose as a ghoul in the post apocalypse, and the other end is where he ends up part of a community, realizing that even if his home and family have gone that there are ways to rebuild with others. More so, either toss retirement out the window completely or make it the neutral ending when the courier aquires him as a companion but doesn't complete his quest.

I still do like the idea of him seeming to think himself too old for things, but he should also self limit when being talked into a "potential" retirement end. Raul doesnt know what he wants yet, he's a pre war man who suddenly had expectations, tradition, and family knocked out of him in several large mushroom clouds.

Retirement sounds Correct for a man his age, even though the proper thing to do at his age is to be a century past dead. But he doesn't feel like he's of retiring time. His knees creak, and his back hurts, and this shit started before he ghouled because he was a man in his 30s who worked on his family's ranch since being knee-high and despite physically feeling like he could keep going, emotionally he has no where to put it.

There is this misplaced sense of self Raul has, where he was very likely not even the spare to his family's ranch (which, I will reiterate again. His family is well off to be running a horse ranch) but he had some inherent place in society via his relationships with other people. He grew up with enough privilege and social guidelines to get by with 2 charisma (assuming this wasn't skill degradation post-war). This would need to be rehauled not only after the bombs dropped, but once societies started reforming in the post apocalypse.

Anyway, I think Raul's two endings best fit him as

Ghost Vaquero, the vengeful spirit of Hidalgo Ranch. This is to work in such a way that it almost strip him of his current identity, taking on all the baggage of his loss and forming it into a driving force for bounty hunting. Actual justice results may vary.

Old Mechanics End. Raul allows himself to settle into a community proper, allows himself to aquaint and even befriend people, and occupationally becomes their mechanic/trade mentor with a bit of gun slinging as needed for town defense.

Which my last addition to this (i am ranting now) is that it seems hilarious to me that being multifaceted with mechanics and being quick with a gun was suddenly placed in an either or scenario. Raul is a boon to have in any community. Man can shoot and man can repair, literally perfect. It makes sense his vanilla retirement end doesnt allow him gunslinging because you basically damn him to depression routine but get him some SSRIs and a knitting circle and he can have his wrench and gun cake and eat it too.

Anyway thanks for coming to my Ghoul Talk, AMA about my boy

#raul tejada #raul fnv

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 3 months ago

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Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 6

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: Blood, panic attack, baby loss.

Chapter Summary: The reader's world collides with her soulmates. Literally. And what's up with Sam.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome honey.” The cashier replied. Soul friends with the owner of the Airbnb you were staying in, the cashier and her husband were owners of the hardware store and had given you a hefty discount. Her husband appeared from the back of the store to let you know that the paint Annemarie had settled on after much debate would arrive on Monday and he’d personally deliver it.

Everyone seemed to know each other and although in the past you weren’t sure small towns were your thing, there was something kind and heart-warming about Brook Town and how everyone looked out for each other. You felt your soulmate letters tingle and automatically rubbed at the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. The rumble of motorbikes brought a tightening to your chest.

“You OK hun?” Asked the cashier, and you wondered then how accepting the town would be of a triad.

“Ermmmm.” You replied unsure. You were tempted to ask the couple who now stood watching as you fidgeted and poked at your letters. You went to speak but changed your mind as the door opened and a redhead woman walked in. You couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was as she greeted the owners like old friends. You took the moment to slip away, not knowing that she turned towards you to say hello only to find you slipping through the door.

You were completely unaware that she wasn’t far behind you.

A little further down the street…….

“How’s it feel?” Asked Clint.

“Itchy.” Steve replied.

“Ok so she’s here somewhere. Did you feel it yesterday? When Buck saw her?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t say anything right away. I thought it was the shirt.”

“So what we just wait here? Hope she walks past?” Bucky asked, his tone frustrated.

“No, Natasha is going to dip in and out the stores to see if she can see her or the friend.” Clint confirmed. “Were you even paying attention?”

“I’m not one of your kids Clint.” Bucky snarked.

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“No OK!!! Because I can’t think straight! What if we’re wrong! What if it’s not her? What if she doesn’t want us? What if she doesn’t want me?” Bucky snapped, his voice full and busting with emotion.

“Easy bud. Take a breath.” Spoke Clint calmly.

“We won’t know unless we speak to her.” Steve added.

“Fine, but you can do the talking.”

“Is that a good idea? You know he can’t talk to women.” Came a new voice, as Sam approached and joined the conversation.

“Any luck?” Asked Steve.

“Well, if Nat has the car details right she’s parked near the pie shop.” Sam answered. Steve watched as Sam rubbed at his own soulmate letters but before he had chance to remark he felt his own arm grow warmer and the urge to scratch and rub at it became uncontrollable. He pulled at his jacket, trying to grant himself some relief. He stopped himself as he saw Bucky’s posture change from the corner of his eye. Changing from perching on his bike to straight and upright, the only other movement the rubbing of his chest.

“Steve?” His voice said, almost broken and he nudged his head forward.

Steve followed his line of sight and set his eyes on you. You were looking around a slight panicked look in your eyes. Your hands were full of DIY supplies and you had a bag across your body that Steve guessed was holding your keys, cash and whatever else girls carried around. You were wearing cut off jean shorts, a fitted tshirt with a scoop neck that had Steve eyes trailing to your cleavage. His eyes scanned back up as he took in the rest of your appearance. Your hair was pulled into a messy bun as wisps of it framed your face and fell around your sunglasses, and he found himself wondering what colour your eyes were.

He started gravitating towards you. Bucky went to follow but stopped himself. Clint discreetly pulled out his phone and started to record what he hoped would be a special moment and also knowing that his wife and soulmate, Laura, wouldn’t want to miss this.

You continued to look around as Steve moved towards you. Glancing behind, you felt like you were being followed. Was it the biker from yesterday? Your arm burned and your chest grew tighter.

You heard a voice calling out a name and turned back only to hit something hard and warm. You fell backwards quickly and landed on the pavement. You hit your elbow and let out a yelp, your left side taking the brunt of the fall. There was quickly warm hands on you and a voice close to your ear.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Warmth spread where his hands touched you and you felt the tightness in your chest ease. You were pulled to your feet.

“My things?” You said confused, glancing down at your shopping bags sprawled out along the pavement.

“I’ll grab them. Are you OK sweetie?” The redhead from earlier asked as she came into your line of sight, smiling softly at you.

“No, she’s not.” A new voice, gruff and annoyed. “You absolute idiot Stevie.”

“You distracted me jerk.”

“So what? You can’t watch where you’re damn going?”

“Walk her over here. I’ll get the kit.” Another voice.

You were guided towards a wooden bench and eased down. There was a rustling as the bags were placed beside you. The redhead appeared and knelt in front of you, placing her hand on yours.

“Hey, are you OK?”

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. She was quickly joined by someone else at her side.

“Hey, I’m Sam, is it OK if I take a look at you?”

“What?”

“Can I take a look at you?”

“You’re bleeding sweetie.” The redhead again. What? You were bleeding? You couldn’t think straight with your soulmate letters on fire. You looked down to see the side of your knee grazed and there was blood running down your finger tips. You went to move your elbow but it flashed with pain and you let out a hiss.

“Can I get you cleaned up?”

You nodded.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what happened.” You said.

“Well you see this big blonde idiot here?” The redhead pointed at one of the bikers who seemed to be bickering with his friend. You nodded. “Well he was distracted by the dark and brooding idiot and he walked into you.”

“I think I might have walked into him too.” You replied, recognising the brunette from the night before.

“Well, that might be my fault. I was following you, probably distracted you.”

So you were being followed.

“I’m not sure it was just that.” You replied looking at the blonde and brunette bikers, who were now being reprimanded by another. He looked a year or two older than them and had dark blonde hair.

“I’m just gonna pop a Band-Aid on your knee OK? Keep it clean.”

You nodded.

“Thank you Sam. You did say your name was Sam right?”

“Yeah, and this here is Natasha.”

“Hi. Thanks for grabbing my things. Well, they’re my friends. She’s having a baby.”

“Is that why you were at the hospital last night?” Natasha asked.

“How do you know that?”

How long had she been following you? You honestly thought you were more observant than that.

“I was dropping off some donations for the children’s ward and saw you guys coming out.”

Your eyes narrowed at her in suspicion but before you had chance to answer your mind wandered to Ryan.

“Shit.”

“Are you OK?” The blonde was now beside you.

“No, she’s not you damn punk.”

“My friend. He’ll wonder where I am.” You pulled at your bag.

“Here. Let me help.” Natasha offered. You admitted defeat as your elbow stung again and let her pull your phone from your bag. She held it in front of you to unlock it.

“Is it Ryan? You have three missed calls from him.”

You nodded. You watched as she tapped at your phone. You heard Ryan pick up, yelling about you not answering. Natasha introduced herself and start to explain what had happened, as your attention was drawn back to Sam.

“It might be best if we cut the sleeve baby girl. It’s ripped on the elbow but not enough for me to clean it properly and get a dressing on it. You might even need a couple of stitches.”

There was a flurry of voices.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” “Fucking idiot.” “You’re both idiots.”

“Ignore them. Is that OK? If I cut it?”

You nodded. Sam took the small scissors from the first aid kit that you now found he’d placed at your feet and started to cut slowly from the cuff of your sleeve and upwards. Feeling Steve edge closer a wave of panic spread through you as the burning of your arm grew worse. There was movement behind you and you became aware that Bucky was now standing behind the bench, watching Sam closely. You tilted your arm towards yourself, gritting your teeth at the sting of the open wound. You hoped to play it off as giving Sam more access to your elbow but the way he side eyed you, he knew what you were doing.

You felt your body get warmer at the blonde and brunettes presence. Is spontaneous combustion a thing? Were you going to be sick? Is it normal to feel like this? You started to feel woozy and you swayed a little. You started to see spots in the corners of your eyes.

“Sweetie, drink this.” Natasha pushed a bottle of water towards you and helped you hold it when she noticed your hand shaking. “You two back up now.”

“Not a chance.” “I want to be close to her.”

“You’re overwhelming her guys back up, and don’t huff at me. As someone who’s experienced the first part of the soulmate bond snap into place I know what it feels like. You know what it feels like right now. She’s got it twice over. Take a step back before she passes out.”

“Clint’s right. Her pulse is racing.”

“I don’t like blood.” You whisper to Sam as you sway some more.

“OK baby girl. I’m gonna put a dressing on it now but I think you’re gonna need a stitch or two. Then I’ll wipe all the blood off OK.”

“I need to go. My friend.”

“He’s going to come find us.” Natasha reassured you, slipping your phone back into your bag.

Sam continued to work on the gash on your elbow and you found yourself staring past him at a spot on the floor. A dozen questions sped through your head and you started to spiral.

Would they want you? Are they ok with sharing? Do they have another soulmate too? Are they with her already? Or him? Could be a him? Are they together? How does it work? Don’t ask Ryan that, he’ll draw you another picture. Am I gonna be sick? I might be? Don’t be sick on Sam. Ryan might like this Sam guy. I need to find Ry. I need to get the hospital. Annemarie. The baby. Blood. My baby.

“Sweetheart, come back to us?” The blonde’s voice spoke softly to you.

“Baby girl, bloods nearly all gone.”

“Let me see Sam.”

“Maybe give her a minute.”

“Sam.”

Sam seemed to move back a little and started to look around, distracted as you watched him starting to pull at the sleeve of his leather jacket and Natasha’s soft reassuring squeezing of your hand, you didn’t notice Steve moving closer.

But you knew the moment he touched you. Warmth spread from where he held your wrist, his callous hands moving softly until his thumb carefully brushed over your letters.

“It’s you.” He whispered. He glanced up at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling with emotion.

A million questions ran through your mind as your letters burned, and you felt the brunette learn over the back of the bench, invading your space. Warmth spread where his body briefly touched yours. His need to see the letters for himself making him edge closer.

The blonde spoke again as he ran his thumb over your letters repeatedly.

“S.G.R. J.B.B. Steve Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes.”

You felt the one behind you let out a shuddered breath.

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You tried again but still nothing. Confusion and panic spread over you. You’d found your soulmate. Soulmates. Both of them. In this little town. You glanced around to see the friend that had told them both off had his phone in his hand. Was he recording you? You looked around again and found Natasha still holding your other hand. Sam was now on his feet looking around himself. You scanned the people passing by and noticed a few had stopped to watch what was going on, nudging and pointing and certainly not discreet.

“I, erm, I don’t know.”

The blonde frowned at you and before you knew what was happening or what you were doing you were on your feet, bags in hand and running.

Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@animegirlgeeky @mrsevans90 @spookyparadisesheep @thezombieprostitute @aiva-gwen-aers

#avengers au #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel au #soulmates #soulmate au #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #avengers biker au #biker au

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starfall-dream · 6 months ago

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i’m a big softie for ketheric bc he’s gone through so much and all he really wanted was to live happily with his family. sorry, if this sounds like it’s all over the place, i’ve never done an ask this big and etc. i love your isekai!au so so much and literally just thought about what kinda dynamic ketheric/reader could’ve had especially if they came from a broken family and on the other hand we all know ketheric would fight all of faerun for his family.

i could totally see the reader become co dependent on ketheric, especially if their companions have still been little jerks throughout their journey so far.

lets say before coming into this world, the reader had a terrible relationship with her family and because of that they start to crave the father/daughter/son relationship they have with ketheric. obviously, the reader will be conflicted knowing HE’S ONE OF THE REASONS FOR THE SHADOW CURSE AND ABSOLUTE. on the other side of the coin they see how much ketheric has lost throughout his life, losing your wife and then your only daughter is a hard thing to cope/deal with. he’s super understanding when the reader opens up to him about being from another world and doesn’t dismiss their claims at all, which makes them feel very touched when still a handful of her companions treat them terribly because of these claims. plus, it doesn’t help that when reader snoops through ketheric’s room, they find ketheric’s letters about his wife and deep down they know/think they can change him for the better. towards the end when their companions come to save them and the fight is happening, i can totally see reader begging ketheric to change and that they can start over, how his wife never would’ve wanted this. or the reader basically confesses how they’ve never had a good father figure in their own world, confessing that he was physically and verbally abusive, they knew that they’d never be good enough child for them but ketheric accepted all of her, good and bad, and treated her as a loving child. which was all they wanted from their dad, to be accepted and loved, which ketheric would be happy to give her.

we know ketheric feels like he can’t be saved and because of that he will still fight us but during the second fight where reader tries to beg him again and he offs himself. imagine the reader is able to grab his hand before he completely falls in and ketheric is holding onto their hand, their grip on him is slowly slipping, all the while they’re crying their eyes out begging him that they can save him and he can be rescued as well. only for him to smile back at them and telling them how much he truly cherished their father/daughter relationship in the short amount of time they did have together before completely letting go of her hand and falling into his own demise.

Please send in long ranty asks, I love them so much.

Anyway, this is kinda how I interpreted Kethrics and Readers relationship. I always like giving my readers some lore just to make them more interesting, so the idea of reader not really having a good relationship with their parents, specifically their father just is so sad and adorable.

I really want to explore readers relationship with the evil three because they're just so interesting, and Kethric is definitely the best villain of the game. By act 2, reader is so desperate for connection that I don't think it would take much for them to get close to Kethric. And since Kethric is already lamenting his loss of Isobel, he seeks connections as well. I think reader knows in the back of their head that Kethric is beyond saving, that he lost himself ages ago when Isobel died, but it doesn't mean that it hurts less when they have to fight him. I know in game, if you talk to Kethric about Isobel before entering into the mind flayer ship, it'll skip his first phase as he kills himself immediately. I imagine something like this happens, where reader begs Kethric not to fight, that perhaps if he hands over his Netherstone to them that Isobel might change her mind and return to him, but he knows that's not possible, it's very bitter sweet.

Again, please don't feel bad for ranty asks, they're literally my favorite thing ever.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #baldurs gate x reader #bg3 x reader #yandere baldurs gate #yandere bg3

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dont-offend-the-bees · 2 months ago

Note

I would love for Ponyo AU to hear more about a) the seaside town where Edwin lives or b) how the Night Nurse and Kashi met (something which is never addressed in the Ponyo film actually, I think) - apologies if this constitutes a spoiler for future chapters!

Thank you, my friend! Apologies for the delay in answering, life sure keeps life-ing all over me 😑

I did think about choosing an actual British seaside town to set the story in -- we do have plenty of them to choose from -- but ultimately I decided that in the name of the sort of, dreamy imprecise magical whimsy of the piece, that having an exact town you can point to on a map wasn't really what was needed or wanted.

Edwin lives in a Pushing Daisies-esque small beach town named something whimsical like Bottleby-Upon-Tweed or West Wombling or some such achingly British nonsense, and it's all brightness and noise and candy striped colours in the summer and a desaturated frame of salt-roughened old celluloid in the winter. Those two mirroring states are sort of reflective of our POV characters. The POV of the overall fic is a little muddled, there may be parts where it leans more heavily into Edwin or Charles (the growing up sequence ended up almost entirely Edwin, which I regret a bit now!) but there will often be asides to both in the same section because in my mind they're sort of learning to see the world not just through their own eyes but through each other's; Edwin, who's tired of this grey old place and these grey, miserable people, and Charles, who sees the world on the shore as this big exciting adventure. It's an odd balance and one I defo didn't nail in chapter one because I was still sort of percolating ideas, but there's a tribute to both of their viewpoints in the way I'm trying to build this fictional town around them out of drab and dour things like cold cliffs and beach litter and panopticon-esque family homes that watch you with their beady window-eyes, and out of larger-than-life adventure set pieces like killer seagulls and travelling circuses (woops chapter 2 spoiler!) and the same house again but as a castle on the hill, a stronghold. Essentially, the town is a Frankensteined scrapbook of your quintessential English beachside town, cobbled together by two children with very different memories of how the summer holiday went!

And as for Night Nurse and Kashi, well, I won't go into what the later chapters hold for them, but I have no idea how much of their backstory will make it into the fic, so. In the interest of anyone who wants to keep that part of the fic a complete surprise I'll pop it under a cut!

N.N. and Kashi aren't the focus of the fic, so I wouldn't say I've thought through every aspect of their relationship/backstory, however as soon as their role in this fic revealed itself to me I did get way more invested in them than I planned! In this fic, N.N tends to be referred to as either the sea witch, or the witch of the waves (slight Howl's Moving Castle nod, there!), but she has another name, and a relatively well-known role in ancient Greek mythology. What her history is exactly has been somewhat lost to time, oral histories and retellings being what they are, but she was once a powerful sorceress with a gift for transforming people who crossed her into animals. She's had various romantic entanglements and a number of children, all lost to her now.

She'd always lived by the sea and done a number of dealings with some famous -- or infamous -- sea-dwellers, so it was a happy coincidence that one day she happened across a strange and friendly man on the docks. He was an odd man, seemingly totally unbothered by the pain and strife in the world; and she, being a woman who'd lived through a great deal of tiresome human loss and pettiness (of literally mythic proportions), found herself drawn to him. He turned out to be a minor god of the sea and a self-described inveterate wonderer, always swimming from ocean to ocean, never having had enough of all the world can show him, but his kindness and his refreshingly direct manner of speaking seduced her, and she gave up on the world of men for good to live on the bottom of the sea -- and grew to adore it so much that she's now quite sure that the world could do perfectly well without the land or the humans in the picture, actually. They love each other very dearly, in their strange way, they're honest with each other; and she's never begrudged him his lifestyle, or his adventures, or his infrequent and unpredictable visits.

...She does take SLIGHT issue when that ridiculous overgrown seahorse of a man blows back into her neck of the woods with a winsome smile and a fresh batch of magical immortal fish-children smuggled under his arm like souvenirs from abroad, but. Fortunately for him she's been a mother before and even finds herself missing it on occasion; although the sort of broods this man produces are FAR larger than any she's had to deal with in her human years. No wonder she's just a tad stressed.

#fic: somewhere beyond the sea #dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #the night nurse #kashi dead boy detectives #my fanfic #ask game #WOOPS THAT ENDED UP LONGER THAN PLANNED OH WELL #i wanted to get through the last of these asks tonight but my headache is Not Good so this might be your lot #i'm sick of being siiiiiiiiiick #thank you for the ask my friend!!! 💛

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