#and when he did talk to her he wasn't anxious awkward

[th3houseofleaves]

thinking abt dove baek and how they've done a variety of illegal things to survive and they justify all of it bc it was for their survival right and as an adult they're avoiding breaking the law as much as possible bc they have to be a good influence for sparrow bc they don't want him to pick up any of their bad behaviors right but at the same time they're super nonchalant and open abt some of the stuff they did (there's some things that are going to stay buried forever thank you very much) so sparrow absolutely picks up on that energy and the first (and only) time dove has to come pick their son up after he's caught stealing they're incredibly upset – at him but mostly themself – and they fear for their LIFE bc it's totally going to be blamed on them and while karina isn't gonna hold it against them forever she won't be happy abt it and her parents will be even more upset.

meanwhile sparrow thinks he's done some cool shit and doesn't understand why everyone's not being chill about it

[scififettuccine]

Homelander x SupeTeen!Reader

Idk ya'll Homie has really been getting on my nerves recently. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this one at first, but I LOVE the way it turned out. It was a doozy but it was SO FUN to write! This isn’t proof read just yet so please don’t yell at me💀

Summary: You meet your biological father for the first time at Vought Tower after your adoptive mother's unexpected passing...he's not exactly what you expected.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Homelander (Obviously), death of a parental figure, mentions of death, manipulation tactics, awkward parental conversations???

Being a Supe had never been easy for you, though, luckily you had never been forced to live in a lab. Soon after you were born, one of the Vought scientists had taken you in as her own, -due to the fact that your biological mother had died during childbirth- directly going against Vought's policies. She was found out eventually, to no one's surprise...but this breach in policy gave headway to a new experiment. So, she was allowed to keep you and raise you as her own. You were raised as any other child would be, but you were treated with extra caution...and being the only Supe in school wasn't exactly a cake walk. But the worst thing you had experienced was a little bullying, but your doting, caring, adoptive mother put an end to that rather quickly by talking with the school board. The first 15 years of your life were...tolerable, if not ideal. It was supposed to stay that way...until your mother was found dead at her place of work.

It had only been two weeks since your mother died. In those two weeks, you had been relocated and told, verbatim, that your father was one of the most iconic Supes in the world...Homelander. Now? You were sitting in The Seven's meeting room at Vought Tower, anxiously toying with the handle of the swivel chair you were sitting in. Part of you was still just...numb. Everything you had ever known had been ripped away from you seemingly overnight. Any other child would be over the moon...but you? You were just...detached. You were pulled out of the endless depths of your own thoughts when a voice echoed off the walls of the room.

"Hey there, kiddo!"

You looked up from your anxious fiddling, and were met with the blindingly white smile of your biological father. You did your best to give a convincing smile back, sitting up a bit straighter in your seat. His presence wasn't exactly the most comforting. He tilted his head to the side a bit when you didn't respond.

"You're Y/N...Right? Hopefully we didn't get the wrong kid...that would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Homelander asked with a laugh. He sort of stopped in the center of the room, looking you up and down, like he was trying to evaluate you...to decide your worth. You nod sheepishly.

"Yeah...yeah. That's me." It honestly didn't help that you were the age that you were...it made it more awkward somehow. Homelander didn't say anything for a moment, almost like he was waiting for you to say something else. When you didn't, he sort of chuckled.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" He asked. You had opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "I guess that's understandable. Meeting your old man for the first time is no small feat..." He paused for a moment as he evaluated your expression. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom...tough stuff there, kiddo." You took a breath when he mentioned your mother. It was all so fresh...and there were so many things you had recently learned that she had never told you. You didn't even know she wasn't your biological mother until after she died.

"Mmm...Don't be sorry...not your fault."

Oh, the unknown irony of that statement.

Homelander let out a small scoff and frowned. Admittedly, the frown looked incredibly fake...almost like he was mocking you.

"Still...I can't imagine what you must be feeling. I mean, to find out that she was keeping so much from you...after she died...? That must pack an even worse punch." You sort of stiffened in your seat. You weren't exactly stupid...you could read his tone. He was hiding his insults towards your mother with a cruel, mock sympathy.

"She only did it to protect me...I know she did. She wasn't a bad mom, she was amazing, actually." You respond, almost matter-of-factly, your eyes glowing red ever so slightly. "I know raising a Supe couldn't have been easy for her...she had her reasons." It was incredibly hard to talk about your mother in any way, considering she had only died two weeks ago. Homelander sensed your tone, and put his hands up as he noticed the flicker of light in your eyes. It suddenly became clear to him that you couldn't control your powers, which almost made him smirk.

"Hey now, of course she was...Absolutely no hard feelings towards your mom...But I know I would have never kept things from you like that. And registering you at a public school, knowing you're a Supe? That's just...cruel." You were going to continue defending your mother...until he mentioned school. That was something you couldn't exactly convince yourself was a great move on your mom's part.

"School was...a different story. It was rough." You said, pulling your legs up onto the swivel chair so you could hold your knees to your chest. Homelander nodded as he took a few steps closer to you, his hands now at rest behind his back.

"So I've heard...I spoke to your therapist." That comment turned your stomach a bit. Wasn't everything you spoke about with your therapist supposed to be confidential? Homelander noticed the slight change in your expression. "Don't worry, Y/N...I didn't dig into any of the gritty teenager things..." He chuckled, "I was just curious to learn about your school situation. You're a sophomore now, right?"

"Yeah...I will be. In the fall." You said quietly. Homelander smiled, where he now stood beside your chair at the point of the uniquely shaped table.

"Well that's fun, isn't it?" He asked as he pulled out one of the other swivel chairs and pulled it towards him. "One more year and then you're one of the big dogs." You nodded, watching his movements as he sat down, facing you. Everything about him just seemed so...strange. Even the way he moved. It looked almost calculated...and was mildly unsettling.

"I guess..." You said quietly. You sighed as you rested your chin on your knees, grabbing onto the table to reluctantly turn your chair to face his...it was only polite.

"You don't seem too thrilled..." He started, his blue eyes meeting the identical set that you possessed, "Was school really that bad?" That was more of a rhetorical question on his part, he knew everything about you.

"The teasing sucks...They call me 'Laser Eyes'..." Homelander stifled a laugh when you said that, to which you narrowed your eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" He said with a chuckle, "That is the stupidest insult I've ever heard!" Homelander took a moment to stop laughing before he looked back to you. "Look. I'm not laughing at you, kiddo. I would never. But Laser Eyes...? Really? They couldn't come up with anything more original? I mean...Even I'd be hesitant to insult you considering you could just laser them in half." He said. His smile was almost manic looking.

"What?" You asked, almost dumbfounded. "I would never...I could never." You said. You pulled your chin off your knees, your eyes still narrowed.

"Why couldn't you? You're a Supe...aren't you? I mean...mommy swooping in and bribing administration to take disciplinary action against those little shit stains isn't exactly making you out to be the strongest person..." You almost immediately sat up correctly in your chair.

"She bribed the administration...?" You ask softly. Homelander gave a mock frown as he noticed your eyes become glossy.

"You didn't know? Gosh...How much was she keeping from you?" You swallowed as he spoke and tried your best not to cry. The last person you wanted to look pathetic in front of was Homelander...Especially considering his earlier comment about it not being a good look that your mom always had to swoop in and save you. "Awe..." He started, scooting his chair closer to yours. "Don't cry kiddo...It's not your fault that you're so lost...It's hers." Your eyes met his once again, a tear slipping down your cheek, which you quickly reached up to wipe away.

"Lost?" You ask. Homelander nodded.

"Well, most Supes your age, with your abilities usually already have a professional presence...Or at least know how to use their powers correctly." He said, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. "I mean, had I raised you? Had you not been wrongfully stolen from me after you were born? You'd already have a place in the Supe community, followers...maybe even a contract with Vought. You wouldn't just be floating in your own little bubble...You'd have a group. A family." Something in you broke when he spoke. Your mother had stolen you from your biological father? And had he raised you, you wouldn't be so...you? So lonely and misplaced? You couldn't help the tears that slid down your cheeks. It was as if your entire life had been flipped upsidedown.

"She...S-she really kept all that from me?" You asked. Homelander tutted softly, almost pitying you. He stood up and held out his arms.

"Come here, kiddo..." He said softly, with a tone of empty sympathy. You almost immediately stood up and buried your head in his chest. At this point....What else did you have? Who else did you have? He chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you, his hug firm, considering he was so much larger than you...yet comforting, despite the strange material of his suit.

'It's alright, Y/N...You're right where you need to be. We'll get you up and running with those powers of yours in no time..." He said softly, resting his chin on top of your blonde hair. He caught the reflection of the two of you in the large window that lit the room and his grip tightened, almost possessively. "You're not alone anymore...got it? You've got your dad to keep you company..." You nodded against his chest, sniffling.

"Got it." You responded softly, hugging him a bit tighter. Maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Homelander, no, your father was what was best for you. How could you have been living in the dark for so long without realizing it...? You were truly lost. But everything was okay now. You were finally safe, in your fathers embrace.

Homelander smiled wickedly at his own reflection in the window before he rested his cheek on your head. Finally...he had you. His own child that he had been trying to get his bloody hands on for years...Losing another Vought scientist was a necessary sacrifice in the bigger picture of his perfect narrative...and it all started right here. With you. His child. He smiled as he pulled away from the hug, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders.

"How does a milkshake sound, huh? I know Planet Vought has a double chocolate one that's yummers." You smiled and nodded as he moved his thumb to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"I love chocolate." You said with a small laugh. Homelander chuckled as he turned you towards the door of the meeting room and started walking, his firm hand on your shoulder urging you forward.

"I know."

————————————————————————

I hope ya’ll enjoyed! I left it open for more parts so totally let me know if you’d be interested in reading more. Writing for Homes is always a questionable adventure 💀 Until next time, Adieu!

[ashwhowrites]

Would you be able to do a mild angsty fic with Steve where he’s self conscious about how hairy his chest is? He’s dating reader but she hasn’t seen him with his shirt off yet and one day maybe someone makes a joke (cuz Steve hasn’t told anyone he’s insecure about it) and reader is like ?? And they’re like oh have you not seen yet? And Steve is awkward and embarrassed for the rest of the day and reader notices. So after they’re alone she asks to see and just kinda runs her hand through it and cuddles into his chest and talks about how sexy she thinks it is and makes him feel good?

I love your stuff so much. Thank you!🙏

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Ladies dig it

Y/N felt like her relationship with Steve was going incredibly well. The connection and attraction were there, stronger than either had felt before. But there was one thing Y/N felt insecure about and she felt silly about it. She hasn't seen Steve without a shirt, like ever. She was worried he was hiding an offensive tattoo or something worse. At first, she thought he wanted to take it slow and she was fine with that. But now they are coming up on three months and nothing. It wasn't like they had to have sex, but at least move forward.

She wasn't going to bring it up, she didn't want to embarrass him. And she was going to let it go and continue to wait. But last night was the final straw.

~

"And Lucas asked, "When did he get so hairy?" And I was like "Right?.....but he says the ladies dig it." Dustin said, telling the story of Max stealing a look at Steve's hairy chest. Y/N felt ridiculous to be jealous of a teenage girl but why the hell was Steve shirtless in front of her?

The gang laughed, except for the couple. Steve felt his cheeks flush red when Y/N stiffened. Dustin noticed the weird look on Y/N's face like she didn't understand the joke.

"Get it? Because we all tell Steve he needs to tame his chest hair!" Dustin explained the joke, leading the group into a fit of laughs.

Y/N, feeling a little annoyed, turned to look at him. Shrugging she teased, "I don't get it because someone won't show me." Steve stared at her with his jaw dropped. He awkwardly laughed and lowered his voice.

"You know me, just wanna go slow."

Y/N accepted the answer, giving him a small kiss. He smiled and pressed his lips against hers. "You're worth the wait."

She was going to leave it alone, but then Dustin spilled the beans that everyone had seen Steve's chest. So why was he only private with her?

Y/N left it alone, figuring it should be a conversation to have in private. As they hung out with the rest of the gang, she noticed how anxious Steve was. He fumbled his words, leg bouncing, and spaced out.

~

Y/N waited for Steve to wake up in the morning before she began questioning. He was half awake when he noticed her sitting next to him with coffee in her hand.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, his deep morning voice made her shiver. She smiled and pushed back his fluffy hair.

"What happened yesterday? After Dustin's stories about your chest, you got all nervous and awkward. Why don't you want me to see your chest?"

Steve sighed and sat up, looking over at her with puppy eyes. "It's stupid."

She scoffed and waved his comment off, moving closer to cuddle his body as she sat down her coffee on his nightstand. "It is not stupid. Talk to me."

"When I was with other girls I always had a naked chest. And I was single for a good amount of time before I met you so I let the hair grow. I feel better with it but my friends make it seem like it is a bad thing. So now I'm insecure about it." Steve explained, not able to look into his girlfriend's eyes.

"Can I see?" she asked, unable to hold back her smile. Thinking about his chest made her feel warm and excited.

Steve seemed conflicted as she moved to straddle his lap. "I promise you, I'll give you nothing to feel insecure about." The seductive look on her face made Steve less worried. Steve nodded and pulled his shirt over his head.

Steve's ears perked up when Y/N let out a small moan as her eyes took in his hairy chest. There was lust swimming in her eyes and Steve couldn't help but harden underneath her.

"You were right," she smiled, leaning in to speak against his lips. "The ladies dig it." Steve chuckled and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss started getting hot and heavy, making him wish he had shown her sooner.

She pulled away and Steve couldn't help but chase her lips. "May I?" she asked, her hands ghosting over his chest. Steve nodded, holding his breath.

Y/N looked at her hands, teasing Steve as she trailed her nails through the hair. She ran the rest of her hands through, loving the way his body shuttered.

"Feel nice, Stevie boy?" she looked up at him with a smirk. His face was flushed red and he licked his lips.

"Yeah, really nice," Steve whispered. She continued to run her hands through it, obsessed with the way it felt.

"You are incredibly sexy. And so manly," she purred. "Can I show you how much I like it?" She asked, slowly moving off of his lap. Steve watched as she moved down to his legs, hands hovering over his sweatpants.

"Oh god, please," he whined, heart racing as her hands slipped under his sweats.

[parfaitblogs]

baby it's halloween ❀ s. reid x reader

in which a mutual friendship leads to a run-in with your ex, and it's halloween, which means you can be anything. even normal with him right?

pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: garcia party in rossi HOUSE 💜. alcohol consumption. reader's dressed as a swan (stunning gorgeous amazing). pre established friends with benefits (don't fuck your exes). s10 bau team is there in spirit i think. crazy spare bedroom hookup. brief nipple play. oral (f receiving). fingering. p in v. he dresses you afterwards. porn with plot. oral fixation. soft dom!spencer.  word count: 3.8k a/n: ex spencer reid makes a comeback. this is separate from bad idea right? but same pairing same sitch kind of same everything. LOL. thanks for giving me costume ideas guys. parfaitblogs revival!!! happy birthday spencer reid!!! happy halloween criminal minds tumblr!!!

"Penelope, what the fuck are you wearing?"

It was a very loud exclamation, over the sound of party music that certainly didn't match the overall theme of Halloween. It was only nine o'clock but the fox eared blonde in front of you had lip liner painting her chin, a pink flush on her cheeks barely hidden beneath a layer of makeup, and two cans of some multicoloured premixed vodka drink you weren't sure about trying (despite her holding one out to you). 

"Fox costume. I'm Agnes! From Fantastic Mr. Fox!" Penelope says, cheerfully, urging you to take the drink she had in her hand, not relenting until you did.

"We agreed on swans," you huff, feeling awfully stupid now, in your all white costume, a pair of fluffy wings settled on your back. 

Penelope looked genuinely apologetic for changing her costume idea on you with no warning, and so as she rambled about how she got excited after seeing fox makeup on her phone, you decided it wasn't actually that big of a deal. She finished her spiel with a comment about still technically matching because you're both animals, and it was enough for you to accept. 

She led you further into the house. House, because she had convinced one of her coworkers to let her host a Halloween party at his, claiming her apartment was far too small for such a thing. Apparently he was very easy to convince. 

It was a quick tour of where all the most basic of amenities on the first floor were, before she was shoving a shot glass of vodka into your hand, and encouraging you to take it. 

So you did. 

Perhaps it was a loosening up technique she was using in an attempt to keep you from ripping her head off when she began another conversation with you with the words,

"So, I need to preface before you get too drunk—" a sentence you really had never hoped to hear in your life "—that Spencer's here."

You're not too sure why your world begins to crumble around you at that fact. You figured he would be. In fact, when you were choosing the articles of clothing for your costume a week ago, you had the idea of Spencer Reid seeing you in mind. You had mentally prepared for seeing him. And yet; panic. 

However, instead of making a scene about how anxious that thought made you, you force a small smile onto your face and murmur out, "That's fine."

"Are you sure?" Penelope presses. "You can hover around me the entire night to avoid him, if you want. I'll stay away from him. I'm really sorry for inviting him."

You didn't like that. "No. Pen, it's okay. He's your friend."

"So are you."

Your heart stuttered in your chest at her words, a warm feeling spreading throughout it. But, ultimately, you were not the person who wants perfectly good friendships ruined because you're too scared to hold a relationship together. 

"I'll get drunk enough and start talking to him anyways. It's fine," you reassure her. 

And get drunk enough you did. 

You had bumped into him a few times already, making awkward eye contact when you passed him on your way to the kitchen for another drink, or to the bathroom to fix your corset that felt like it was getting tighter every breath you took. 

Yet here you were, stuck between the fridge and him, a collection of things you wanted to both beg him for, and cuss him out because of, sitting delicately on the tip of your tongue, waiting for the right trigger word from him.

Unsuccessfully, for he was rocking back on his heels, clasping his hands around the glass of water he was nurturing, keeping the peace between you two and staying silent. 

And you couldn't have that. 

"Hi. How are you?" you chirp after closing the fridge, a can you were getting for Penelope and not yourself now settled between your hands.

"Hi. I'm good," he says, sending you an all too familiar tight lipped smile. One he always did when he was feeling awkward. "How are you?"

"This is really formal," you say, tilting your head to the side. "I'm good."

He nods his head in agreement, and you find every curse word you had ready to yell at him dissipate in an instant. "I like your costume. Swan?"

"Yes," you nod your own head, forcing the flutter of your heart to stop.

You weren't sure what he was when you had first arrived to the party, but a few short exchanged words between the two of you revealed the fake teeth he had settled in his mouth, confirming Penelope's earlier guess that he was a vampire. 

Fitting, you had almost said then. 

"I like yours too," you say after a few beats of awkward silence and you realising you hadn't said much after his compliment. 

"Thank you."

It was an awkward song and dance around the elephant in the room (your relationship, or lack thereof). An even more awkward interaction of him reaching behind you into the fridge to get out a drink for Morgan, and then a breathless apology when he had gotten a bit too close and you hadn't had a conscious enough mind to step back.

"I don't like this," you blurt out.

"What?"

"This. Us," you clarify. "Being awkward. Not talking. We talk fine when we hook up."

Because yes, there's that secret you were keeping hidden away from Penelope. 

"We're preoccupied during that."

"I'd argue seeing each other naked once a week is much more awkward than bumping into each other drunk, at a party."

"I'm not drunk."

Right. You knew that. Spencer Reid didn't drink. It was why the cup in his hand was only water, and the alcoholic beverage in his other wasn't for him. 

If you were any less buzzed you probably wouldn't say the unfortunately very embarrassing sentence you let leave your lips, that sounded a little foreign even to you. 

"Then do we need to see each other naked tonight to make this not awkward?"

His lips parted and he froze, rightfully so. You weren't sure how you'd react to somebody asking you that either. It seemed awfully blunt for even you, and if you were any sane person, you'd probably be backtracking to take it back. Instead, you were just as frozen as him, fearful for how he would respond. 

"No," he says, but there was a strain in his voice that told you otherwise. Thankfully, you had enough self restraint to not call him out on that. 

"No?" you tilt your head to the side.

"No, we don't need to. Do you want to?"

Does it make you a horrible person to say yes? To take advantage of one of the many rooms littering the Rossi house, and use a situational run-in to have sex with your ex-boyfriend?

Probably.

"Yes. Do you?"

"I like how you look tonight."

Your heart rate speeds up. "That isn't an answer."

"Yes," he says. "I do."

The kitchen was left empty with a glass of water and two unopened cans on the countertop, that Derek Morgan was no doubt bound to discover when Spencer never returns. Followed closely by — probably — Penelope discovering the same about you. Which would probably lead to the discovery of the friends (were you friends?) with benefits situation the two of you had. 

You've barely stepped into the spare room he had located before he's kissing you. Feverishly, devouring you whole, as your back is pressed up against the door. Your wings dug into your shoulder blades, the feathers tickling your arms, and yet you couldn't find it in you to care. 

"Spencer."

His response to your plea of his name is to kiss you harder, fingers entangling in your hair, and you think if he pushes against you any more, you'll meld to the atoms of the door. 

"You taste like alcohol," he mutters against your lips. 

"Funny that."

"Are you drunk?"

"I'll remember this all in five minutes, if that's what you mean."

"Sort of."

His mouth detaches from yours, and there's a desperation in the way he kisses down your neck you don't think you'll ever get used to, no matter how many times he does it. 

It was a heartbreaking reality of the difference between how he would have sex with you then, and now. 

It's his grumbling that forces you to focus on him again, and not the comparative thoughts you have whirring in your brain. His fingers are fumbling with the lacing on your back, as he says, irritation you find almost hilarious in his tone, "I hate corsets."

"You said you liked it earlier."

"I liked it when I wasn't trying to take it off of you."

You smile. "I'll wear something more convenient for you next time."

"Yes. Thank you," he nods, successfully loosening the lacing enough so he could take the corset off of your body. "T-shirts are good."

"Duly noted." 

"Or nothing. Nothing's better," he adds, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands dropping to your chest — completely bare, considering you couldn't justify the wearing of a bra beneath the corset. 

"I'll ask the board."

You feel him smile against your lips, his hands cupping your chest, thumbs delicately running over your nipples to elicit a breathless whine from you. Ever so careful, he uses his thumbs to circle them, amused with just how easy it was to fluster you.

His lips trail down from your lips again, his hands dropping to your waist, using his hips to nudge you towards the bed.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you wince, although any pain dissipates as he murmurs a gentle apology and lowers the two of you to the bed. 

It's quite amusing; the articles of clothing you're removing from your bodies. You didn't think feathered wings and a Dracula-esque cape piling together on the floor would be a sight you ever saw in this context, and yet. 

"What do you want, honey?" he asks you, though your brain is a little preoccupied with his pulling of your skirt down your legs, fingers brushing against your skin. He forces your focus back onto him again with the calling of your name, and a kiss to your inner thigh. 

"What're you willing to give me?" 

"You know I'd do anything."

Your heart soars. Yes, you do know that. He loves to prove that feat to you. 

"I don't know," you shake your head. "Whatever you want. You choose. My gift to you this Halloween."

It was a tradition you had started with him three years ago, on your first Halloween together. You knew how important the holiday was to him, and so you had bought him a plethora of decor for his apartment (on top of what he already had). You had helped him set it up, and later that week he had gifted you a charm bracelet with a pumpkin clasp. Every Halloween since, you bought him more decor, and he bought you a Halloween inspired charm for the bracelet. 

This was your first Halloween where you weren't together. 

"I didn't get you a charm."

"That's okay," you reply, earnestly. 

"You're so wet," is voice is breathless, changing the topic of conversation awfully quickly. For his eyes had dropped to the only item of clothing you still had on, and his fingers had trailed far enough up your thighs to brush over it. 

"Do something about it then," you retort, bluntly, and he smiles amusedly. 

He probably murmurs something about you being a brat, but his hands were pulling your underwear down your legs, and you should not be expected to focus on two maddening things at once. 

Thankfully, he does do something about it. And quite quickly, too. Wasting no time teasing like he usually does, instead attaching his lips to your core, tugging a moan from your lips. 

His tongue licks a stripe up the centre of your folds, circling your clit, expertly so. 

"Oh God," you whine out, breathlessly, head falling backwards and digging into the mattress beneath. Sinful as it was, Spencer's tongue on you did feel like the closest thing you'd ever have to a religious experience, a thought that had crossed your mind the many times he's done this before. 

Once he's sure his tongue flicking over your clit had worked you up enough, you're forced into shock as you feel one of his fingers at your entrance. Lack of hand-eye coordination aside, he's well versed in the art of using two different body parts at once to make you come, and yet you're still writhing beneath him like it's the first time.

Sometimes it felt like it was. 

"Spencer," you nearly cry out, if not for your hand flying to your mouth to muffle how loud you had anticipated you'd be. 

He pulls his lips away at that, instead lifting his head to hover over yours, as he pushes a single finger inside you. Even when your eyes flutter closed and your head tilts back further, you can still feel his gaze on you, as if in awe of the way you looked. 

"That was so easy," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "You really did want me to do this tonight, hm?"

Too wrapped up in the feeling of being touched by him again, all you can do is nod your head, and you feel him smile against your cheek. 

"Yeah, I know, sweet girl."

He captures your lips again, swallowing a string of moans that leave your lips when he begins to move his finger in and out. Finger that becomes fingers, for he's pushing another one in, and you're arching your back up as you attempt to accomodate to the stretch. 

"I know, I know," he repeats when your head jerks back as your lips part in another, this time silent, moan. "I shouldn't have missed last week, hey? I'm sorry I was out of state."

You want to tell him it's okay. That you didn't really mind being celibate for an extra seven days on top of the six the two of you leave between your nights together. Unfortunately, growing accustomed to a once a week cycle meant the interruption of it left you overwhelmingly easy to shatter with the simplest of touches. You did mind, so you kept your thoughts to yourself. 

"Please," you ask him, almost pathetically, when he curls his fingers and your entire brain goes fuzzy.

"Please what, honey?"

You're not sure what. More of his fingers? His tongue back on you? You want it all. Yet, time was unfortunately of the essence, and you were acutely aware of the ticking alarm clock in view on the bedside table. You did not have the minutes to receive absolutely everything you wanted from him.

"Want you to fuck me," you murmur. 

He breathes out a laugh. "I know. I'm going to, I promise. I just need to get you ready first, okay? How're you feeling?"

"Ready." Your voice is an impatient grumble, one that amuses him greatly, which frustrates you even more. 

"I don't think so," he shakes his head, pushing his fingers back inside of you to elicit a sharp whine from your lips. "I want to do this a little longer, anyways."

"Spencer."

Your protest and attempt to bribe him with a kiss is hopeless, for he is continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, using your arguably selfish kiss to quiet every single sound you make. 

It isn't until you're quite literally writhing beneath him and begging him with an incessant repeat of his name, does he pull his fingers out of you. Tapping your lower lip with them, you take his fingers into your mouth, despite your panting and attempts at catching your breath. 

You want to close your eyes, but the way he's looking at you as you suck on his fingers is borderline ridiculous, and you should probably be locked up for just how attracted to it you are. 

He trails his fingers out of your mouth after a few moments, but any desire to protest that is lost on you when your eyes catch his removal of his boxers. 

He disappears from above you for only a minute, though he knows you too well and says, "I'm getting a condom," before you have a chance to start complaining about it. By the time he's returned, he's kissing you again, and you've forgotten all about your irritation.

The head of his cock pushes at your entrance, and you're already a mess. He's slow as he eases into you, and you're eternally grateful for it, because your entire body tenses up, and he's forced to pause, and ease your muscles with his hands kneading your thighs. 

"I'm sorry," he says, genuinely, when your eyes squeeze shut, and you're back to remembering why you're not happy about the dreadful thirteen day celibacy he forced upon you. But he's so nice, and so apologetic, that as he bottoms out, your hands are wrapping around his neck to provide him with silent forgiveness. 

He stays still for a few more moments, his lips tickling your jawline. His breath fans your skin, warm, and just as desperate as your own, which is comforting. 

"Tell me when you're okay," he says, quietly, breathing out a moan when your walls flutter around him. 

After a beat, you murmur, "I'm okay," and he pulls his hips back, before rolling them back into you, slowly. 

You're a puddle of content and pleasure and love as he repeats the gentle motions of fucking you, moaning and squirming beneath him, despite his hands on your hips in an attempt to keep you still. 

"Doing so well for me, honey," he tells you after a few minutes, and heat warms your cheeks at the compliment. He laughs at your bashful smile. "You feel so good."

He moves his hips a little faster, and you're moaning again, hands dropping from his neck to the mattress. At that, he picks up his ministrations once again. All up until all the tender, slow motions are gone, and he's listening to your throat produce broken whines and pleas, his own presenting breathless groans.

"Spencer," you gasp out at one particular thrust, and he's instantly repeating that same deep movement. "Oh fuck."

"Like that?" he asks you, tenderly, and you're frantically nodding your head. "God, look at you. You're so pretty when I do this to you, you know?"

Vulgarity — in any form — coming from Spencer Reid's mouth should sound foreign, and yet it doesn't. Though, perhaps you're too lost in the pleasure of just how good he feels to believe he's anything but perfect.

"I want to come," you tell him, a disguised plea.

"Okay. I can make that happen."

You know he can. He's proven it a thousand times, you're sure. 

One of his hands drops to your cunt, fingers finding your clit and timing the circles onto it with his thrusts, until you're pretty sure there is no longer a coherent thought in your brain that isn't simply him.

If his aim was to turn you into a mess with very little time, he was excelling above average. Your hands had grabbed fistfuls of the duvet cover atop of the bed, your mouth producing nothing but a constant repeat of, "Please," and "Spencer," one after the other. 

He wasn't surviving very well, either, you found. His breathing heavy and his thrusts growing sloppier by the second, until he was feeling your own walls clench around him with your stomach tying itself into a knot. 

He forced his hips to keep moving, albeit much more messy now, as he moaned against your skin, his own orgasm wracking through his body, while still attempting to chase your own. 

It didn't take much more than that, to be honest, and your entire body went boneless and shattered beneath him as you came too.

Jelly seemed like an apt description for what you felt as you relaxed in the bed and your nerves began to calm down, Spencer breathing heavily above you. Up until he was sliding out of you, and standing up on legs you could see shaking, perhaps just as much as your own. 

He's disposing of his condom as you lay there, attempting to regain your breath, eyes fixated on the ceiling above you. He's shuffling around more than you'd expect for a simple trash trip, but then you feel hands on your ankles, and your head snaps down to find him kneeling at the foot of the bed, gently tugging your underwear back up your legs. 

"I know it's not ideal," he says, when your face scrunches up as the piece of fabric lands back on your hips. "But I also know your skirt is too short to not wear these."

"I'll get over it," you reply, letting him redress you with delicate fingers that leave your entire body hot, with goosebumps rising on the skin.

"Yeah," he agrees, though half-heartedly, expert fingers clasping your bra back onto your body. 

Once your skirt is back on, he helps you up into a seated position, helping to reapply the feathered head piece you had on. 

It's oddly intimate, way he's kneeling in front of you, breath warm against your face as he clips the feathers into your hair. Your breathing hitches as his hands drop back to your thighs upon finishing, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 

"Everybody's gonna know what we did," you say, quietly, for it was true. You two had been gone for too long of a time for people to not draw correct conclusions. 

"They already know we do." Hook up.

"What? How?"

"You need to stop telling Garcia things."

Your face falls, and he smiles, sympathetically, thumbs drawing gentle circles on the skin of your thighs. 

"At least you don't work with them."

"I guess there's that," you confirm with a small nod.

He's silent for a few more moments, simply staring at you and studying your face, before he sighs, and goes to pick up your corset. 

"You need to go to the bathroom after this," he instructs you, though gently, motioning for you to stand up and turn around so he could do up the dreaded lacing. 

"I know. Don't worry."

"Good," he replies, your skin tingling with every extra bit of pressure he put on your back as he laced up your corset. "You feel okay?"

"Yes," you nod your head. "Do you?"

"I do," he confirms for you, tying off the lacing and tapping your hip so you could turn back around. 

You do, and your eyes flicker up to his face. "Do you also promise not to make me wait two weeks again?"

"I'll talk to the board."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.4 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's very long, I don't even know how many parts it's going to have summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』 『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

As you stood in front of your university's building, it suddenly looked a lot bigger and a lot scarier. You had no idea if Andy had told everyone else about what had gone down over the weekend, but you felt exposed already.

Each step forward was dreadful, you walked in autopilot. The blur in your vision and the ringing in your ears were such that you didn't even notice your group of friends calling for you. It was only when Jas walked over to you that you snapped out of your hypnotic state.

"Y/N? Is everything okay? We were calling for you..." She asked, searching your face.

You forced a smile and awkwardly laughed.

"You were? My bad, I was distracted." It wasn't a lie, you were distracted, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Your friend frowned a little, but if you were making up an excuse then it was because you didn't want to talk about whatever you were going through, so she just let it go and brought you over to the place they were sitting at.

Anxiety started building up within you and you couldn't breathe as you approached the group - you didn't know if you were ready to face the consequences of your actions...

Thankfully, Andy hadn't arrived yet, and, from the way they all greeted you and spoke normally, it didn't seem like Andy had told them anything.

Being around your friends eased your mind and body, and, after a couple of minutes, you had forgotten about the reason why you had been so nervous.

That is, until the reason arrived.

"Hello, everyone."

You froze in place. The only available seat was next to you, which was fortunate, because at least you wouldn't risk making accidental eye contact with Andy.

Everyone greeted the friend, you included. He wasn't in a great mood, and everyone noticed - Andy was usually bright and chirpy from sunrise to sunset, however he seemed gloomy and tired, it was very unlike him.

The group ignored whatever was going on for as long as possible, but the conversation wasn't flowing and, at some point, the tension spread through the group and became unbearable.

"Okay, I can't pretend anymore, what the fuck happened between you two? Why is there such an awkward atmosphere in here?" Jas finally asked.

It was obvious, from the change in behaviours that came from the two of you, that you and Andy were the source of it all. The question was genuine and simple in Jas' mind, however she didn't know the Pandora's box she had just opened.

"Did you fuck or something? Was it terrible and now you can't face each other?" One of the guys joked, only furthering the awkwardness.

The friend to his right smacked his arm, but it was too late. Andy's body tensed up and he scoffed, glancing to the side.

"It wasn't me she fucked."

The statement hit everyone like a truck. The whole group wondered what that meant, but from the context clues, they picked up that you had gotten with someone close to him. Your hands balled up in fists and your world started spinning as cold sweat ran down your back.

"Whoa, what does that mean? Did one of you-" One of the guys started, pointing at the two other men at the table, but he was cut off.

"She fucked my dad."

The table went silent. Shock and disbelief painted on everyone's faces, and your anxious eyes skimmed every single one of them, looking for the least bit of sympathy.

"What?" One of them busted out, not fully convinced that he had heard correctly.

"Y/N, did that really happen?" Jas asked, trying her best to sound understanding in face of the situation.

You couldn't look at her. You looked at your hands, still balled up in your lap, and nodded.

"Like once, or?..." Another punch to the man's arm.

"Dude!" One of them called out his friend's ridiculousness and lack of awareness.

"What?! Like you're not asking yourselves the same!" He defended.

"I..." All eyes were on you, you could feel them, you could feel Andy's sorrow and hatred, as well as everyone else's curiosity and confusion "I didn't mean to do it, I don't think he did either. It just sort of... happened. And we kept in contact and..."

You were tying to be as broad as possible with the details, as to not hurt Andy (or disgust him), but he still stood up abruptly and began walking away.

"Andy! Wait!" Courage shot through you as you went after him and grabbed his wrist "I'm sorry, I really am, please... Believe me."

He turned around to face you, his crystal eyes covered with a layer of tears.

"What do you want from me? Forgiveness? Understanding? Well, I can't give you either of them. I liked you- fuck, I still do! So I'm sorry if I can't sit back and support you and... and my dad. So please, leave me alone. Maybe one day I'll get over it, but not right now, not in the foreseeable future."

You slowly let go of his hand, and a little sob escaped his lips. Not a single word was uttered as he turned around and began walking away.

You slumped back on the seat you had been sitting in, surrounded by your friends.

"I should go check on him..." One of the guys said, as he stood up and followed the way Andy had gone.

The others didn't follow, as they knew the boy would feel overwhelmed by too many people crowding him in such a vulnerable moment.

You felt Jas softly place her hand on your back, and you could see from your peripheral that she had told the other two boys to take leave as well. They patted your shoulder as they walked away, their boy-ish way of saying "good luck".

"You know what the worst part is?" You asked Jas, unable to look her in the eye.

She didn't respond, simply letting you air out whatever it was you needed to air out.

"I don't regret it. And if I somehow went back in time, I would do it again." You started "It felt like I was being pulled to him, I couldn't think of anything that didn't include him, and when we finally got together... it just felt so right."

You stopped for a second to catch your breath and wipe the tears. You lifted your head and looked at Jas, that had nothing but a pitiful expression on her face.

"It's fucked up I-I know, especially when I liked Andy. When I started going to his house I was so excited because that meant I was getting closer to my goal, but then I saw Buck- Mr. Barnes, and my world was flipped upside down. I can't pretend I don't know him, and I can't go back and pretend I don't feel like this, not when I see him whenever I look at Andy."

Your friend sighed and shook her head - what a mess. She wrapped her arm around you and squeezed your body, in a show of support.

"I'm not gonna sit here and pretend it's not fucked up to sleep with your friend's dad, especially when that friend likes you, but I'm also not going to pretend you're a villain for following your heart. It's a really complicated situation, Y/N... I really don't know what to say."

"I just... I feel sorry for Andy, but it's not a situation that I want to stop. Bucky is such a great person."

There was a small silence between the two of you, and it was clear Jas was itching to ask something.

"Am I allowed to ask what happened? And how it happened?"

"Holy shit, sweetheart... Rough day?" Bucky asked, as he kissed the top of your head and walked into your house.

"That bad, huh?" You chuckled, closing the door behind you "I guess I look like how I feel..."

You stared at how his biceps flexed as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the couch. When he turned around and saw your eyes fixated on his build, Bucky chuckled. He gently grabbed your hand as he walked to the couch, and pulled you down to his lap. The man's large arms wrapped around you, and his thumb drew shapes on your thigh as you got comfortable.

"You said we needed to talk, everything okay?" There was a glimpse of worry in his eyes, and a hint of concern in his voice as he asked that.

"My group of friends know about it..." You simply said.

Bucky's grip on you tightened at those words, and his body stiffened.

"Are you okay? What did they say?"

You sighed and turned to look at him.

"They were perplexed, mostly. And confused. I don't blame them for that... Things were a bit tense the rest of the day, the group was pretty separated, I don't think anyone knows how to feel about the whole thing."

"They didn't give you a rough time?"

You shook your head negatively.

"I think I'm the one giving myself the hardest time, it's weird. I feel guilty, but I would still have done it if we turned back in time." Bucky smiled a little at the confession, and kissed your temple lovingly. "How about you? How's Andy treating you?"

Bucky sighed, there had been a lot of that going around you recently.

"The first day he didn't sleep at home, I don't know where he slept and I was worrying all night, but if I called he wouldn't have picked up, and if I texted he wouldn't have replied, probably would have pissed him off more... He sleeps there now, at least, I try to talk to him but he's still hurting..." The man paused and swallowed, trying not to cry "I broke his trust, I know it's going to take time, but fuck, it hurts. I can't imagine how he's feeling, and it sucks not being able to be there for him 'cause I'm the source of it all but I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time. I feel like a damn school boy around you, Y/N."

Tears gathered in your eyes as you got to see the vulnerable side of someone like Bucky - a big, strong army man that almost looked mean and cold when you first saw him. You pulled his head against your chest and pet his head.

"His anger towards you will pass, you didn't know he liked you. What I did was worse, I knew exactly what he wanted, and I took it from him."

"His anger towards you will also pass, Bucky..."

He looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, now tear-stained and pain-stricken. The sight was a beautiful tragedy... You wiped away his tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

"How can you be so sure?"

"You're his dad, that bond is a lot deeper than some girl." You joked, with a small laugh.

"I don't think you realize just how special you are, and how much the simple thought of losing you hurts."

You and Bucky had spent too much time crying and thinking about all of the things that had gone down the past weekend, so when his army pal hit him up and asked him if he wanted to go for a drink, he found it to be the perfect escape for the night.

He didn't want to leave you alone, but you insisted that you'd need a long shower (and some makeup) and that it would take time, more time than you wanted him to wait, so you assure him you were fine and told him you'd meet him there.

Admittedly, you felt uncomfortable walking into the bar, it was a stereotypical "manly" place, with a pool table, chairs that dated back to before you were born, and no sight of a drink that wasn't a beer or a whiskey. You weren't dressed appropriately, you figured, as your little red dress (that you had worn to tease Bucky) was drawing a lot of attention.

You spotted "Mr. Barnes" near the bar, talking to two men and walked over to him, avoiding the stares and comments from the random men around you.

"Come on Buck, she's what? Twenty? What do you even talk about? What do you even have in common?" The tall, blonde man that Bucky was talking to said.

You held back a smile and placed one arm around Bucky's waist. He hadn't seen you coming, since his back was facing the door, but the man's face instantly lit up when he looked found that the person touching him was you.

"I'd say we have some... tastes in common, so to speak." You said, with a smile, winking at the blonde that instantly went red.

Bucky smirked at the dirty joke, and his expression was one of pride. One of his hands tapped your butt lightly, as if saying "good job", and you smiled.

You didn't take the man's comment in the wrong way, you were sure he was just looking out for his friend, but it did kind of hurt your ego that he thought you were some airhead with no real content to herself just because of your age.

"Y/N, that's Steve, my best-friend, we were in the army together," Bucky began, hinting at the tall blonde in front of him, whose face was red with embarrassment "and that's Sam. I don't like him, but he's always around."

"Real nice, Buck." Sam said, making Bucky smile faintly, a smile that he discreetly hid by taking a sip of whiskey.

"I'm sorry about my comment, miss."

"That's okay, sir," you said, mocking how proper the man sounded "I know there's a big age difference between us, but I like the guy."

Steve smiled softly, still embarrassed he'd been caught in that situation, but glad you hadn't taken offense to the comment.

"What are you drinking, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and although he was talking to you, his gaze was everywhere but on your eyes.

You had no idea how many drinks he had had before your arrival, but he didn't even try to hide his hungry gaze as his eyes fixated on several parts of your body.

"Espresso Martini?" You asked.

"Ooh she's a fancy one. I don't think they do anything here that mixes more than two drinks." Sam joked with a laugh.

"Didn't think so either," you laughed "but it was worth a try! I'll have a vodka redbull, then."

"Comin' right up, sweetheart." Bucky said, and turned to the bar to order.

"So, he told us how you met..." There was a hint of awkwardness in Steve's voice as he said that.

"Not under the best pretext, no..." You replied, nervously fixing your hair "It's a little awkward as it is, but I'm hoping for a good outcome."

"Sounds like you're here to stay." Sam chirped in, with a suggestive face.

"I sure hope she is!" Bucky's voice was lower than usual, his eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks were a pretty pink colour.

The man pressed a kiss to your temple and circled your waist with his arm as he handed you your drink. You giggled at his roaming hand and stared at him.

"How many of those have you had?" You asked, pointing at his cup.

Bucky looked at his drink and shrugged. You and his friends shared a laugh at his state - it was obvious that Steve was also not at 100% capacity, and Sam walked towards the same state, you'd just have to catch up to them.

You hadn't eaten much before leaving the house, as you didn't want Bucky and his friends to wait for you for too long, so a couple drinks (mixed with the fact that the bartender had been going 50/50 on the vodka and redbull quantities) had you in the same state as the trio.

Your body leaned against Bucky's for extra balance, and the latter didn't mind the closeness at all. The four of you were having a fun time, laughing at the old war stories and anecdotes from the young James Barnes and sharing stories, when a group of four men approached you.

"Hey there princess, how about you ditch the fossils and come hang out with us, we can show you a real good time."

They looked out of place in the bar (although so did you) - they wore different polo shirts and tight jeans, too tight for their own good, you reckoned. They weren't too tall, but their muscular build certainly asserted dominance.

You could feel Bucky's body tense behind you, and you could see from your peripheral how the three men sized up the other men with their eyes.

"I don't... I don't think I will."

"What? You want to spend your night with grandpa?" The tallest of the trio, a bald man with tattoos on his arms, scoffed and walked towards you, placing his arm on your shoulder.

He didn't even have time to continue his sentence, Bucky slammed down his drink and gripped the man's hand. The male forcefully removed the other guy from you, twisting his arm behind his back and kicking him in the back of the leg, causing his knees to buckle.

"I believe she said no, Caillou." Bucky growled through gritted teeth.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, old man?! Think you can fight?" Another one of them asked, pulling Bucky up by the collar of his shirt.

Before a third one could join in, Steve let go of his drink and stood in front of the man.

"Going somewhere, pal?" Steve asked, with a small smirk that displayed not happiness, but adrenaline.

"Come on, I wouldn't want to scratch up your pretty face." The other male mocked, patting Steve's cheek lightly.

Bucky's best friend simply laughed, before punching his opponent, whom stumbled back. He then threw another punch to the side of the man's face, the side that was not covered by his palms, and delivered a blow to the man's stomach, which sent him stumbling back.

"I wouldn't worry about it." Steve mocked back, looking at the man, crouching on the floor while holding his torso and face.

Bucky kept the guy that had touched you on the floor, but two others were on him. He punched and kicked, but it was a 2 versus 1 situation, and so Bucky got handed some devastating blows.

"I gotta get new friends..." Sam said, upon seeing the scene, before downing his drink in one go and stepping forward into the fight.

All you could do was stand there and watch, with a horrified expression and hands over your chest, as your boyfriend and his friends became a mess of flying wrists and arms.

Your head was spinning and you didn't know what to do, but one thing was for certain: seeing Bucky fight so wildly to defend you and your peace... it was hot.

"I'm really sorry guys... I didn't mean to cause all that." You apologized sincerely.

"Are you kidding?" Bucky scoffed "Those guys had it coming."

"Yeah, plus, it was kind of fun." Steve agreed, much to your surprise "I wish we hadn't gotten banned from the bar but..."

"I wish we hadn't gotten beaten up." Sam chimed in, making everyone laugh.

After being kicked out of the bar, none of you was in a decent state to drive home, so you just decided to walk - to sober up and calm down. Bucky noticed how your heels were dangling from your hands, and as his eyes dropped to your feet, he realized you had been walking barefoot.

"Come on, get on my back." He said, as he knelt down to make it easy for you.

"What? You can't be serious, Bucky, you're all beat up." You told him, eyeing his state.

"Wasn't an offer, sweetheart."

After that it was hard to stop the fire from spreading through your body. The boys kept on talking, but you could only focus on how close Bucky's body was to yours - your chest pressed against his back, his arms tangled with your legs, and your thighs gripping his waist.

"The state of your face, Bucky..." You complained to him, as you knelt between his legs, holding his face in one hand and the first aid kit in the other.

There was a small gash on his bottom lip, cuts on his jaw and forehead, and a bruise was already forming on his cheek.

"I've had worse." The man joked, hinting at the fact that he had served in the army, but you didn't laugh, you were too worried about his state "Come on, sweetheart, it's not that bad."

You looked at him with a serious expression, conveying how worried you were for him, and climbed on his lap, so you could work on "fixing" his face. You opened the first aid kit and began scolding him.

"Bucky... You can't get into fights every time some asshole hits on me..." You told him, as you applied some medicine to his cuts.

The man hissed at the stinging sensation on his lip.

"If I can't do that, then what do I have to give you?" He was smiling, but there was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes.

You put down the cotton swab and the bottle of medicine and looked into his eyes.

"What does that mean, James?" You asked, with eyebrows furrowed in sorrow.

Bucky sighed, and his hands ran up and down your thighs, before giving them a squeeze.

"You heard them, sweetheart, I'm old... I'm holdin' up pretty well but-"

You shut him up with a kiss, before he could say anything else.

"You're not old, Bucky. Let's start with that, you're talking as if you're some decrepit thing, you're beautiful. You do realize that I'm not exactly lacking when it comes to options of young guys, right? If I cared about age I would have a pretty wide catalog in the university I go to, you are just what I was looking for, just what I needed - and I didn't even know I needed you before I met you."

His eyes were full of emotion, and he couldn't express any of them. The only thing he could do to paint an image of what he was feeling was grab the back of your head and bring you forward, locking your lips in a tender kiss. You had never experienced such feelings in a kiss before, and the two of you had kissed many, many times. There was sorrow, sadness, gratitude, admiration, and love.

One of his large hands brought you closer, as if you were still too far away for his liking. As your kiss deepened and his tongue became more creative, your hips rolled against his, feeling his already hardened cock under you. A strained moan was muffled by your lips, and the two of you pulled away.

"I'd love to fuck you right now," he began, slapping your ass and grabbing your cheeks in the middle of the sentence "but my whole body is sore..." The man lamented.

Biting your lip, you undid his zipper and pulled his pants down slightly, just enough so you could comfortably pull his cock out from the confinement of his underwear.

You climbed down from his lap, spreading his legs gently so you could fit in between.

"Tonight, I'll take care of you." You told him, as you gripped the base of his cock and teased its tip with your tongue.

"Fuck..." He muttered under a sigh of relief, as he momentarily threw his head back against the wall.

You lips slid up and down his shaft and his tip hit against the back of your throat. As you hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue flat against the base of his cock, you felt Bucky gathering your hair in his fist, a makeshift ponytail so he could see you as well as possible.

His hips thrusted slightly, following your movements. You could tell he was holding himself back. Bucky's chest rose and fall, and a plethora of groans and curses left his lips.

You looked up, curiosity getting the best of you, and it was the most beautiful view. Bucky's mouth was agape, his eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, and his eyes had a dark veil of ecstasy. As his pupils met yours, he muttered another curse under his breath.

"Don't look at me with those eyes, pretty girl, or I won't last."

You pulled away from his cock, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip.

"Let's pick up the pace then." You teased as you stood.

You pulled your dress up just enough to remove your panties and got back on his lap. No preparation was needed, as his state alone was enough for wetness to spread between your legs.

The man just watched as you gripped his cock and easily slid down his shaft. Your moans mixed and bounced off the walls. Bucky's hands gripped your ass and you gripped his shoulders as you began to move up and down.

His eyes traveled down your body, focusing on the red dress that had been teasing him all night long.

"Fuck... you and these pretty little things you like to wear... I wanted to fuck you over the counter of that bar the second I saw you..." Bucky said in your ear, kissing the spot directly under it.

That incited a loud moan from you, as you picked up the pace. Bucky's body worked in sync with yours, his hips snapping upwards and his big hands forcing you down on his cock - any pain or soreness from the fight was long forgotten.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was near, his clouded vision and clenched jaw were all too familiar. You held him against your chest as he buried himself deep in you one last time. You could feel his cock twitch within you, spilling his cum.

Bucky held the back of your head and caught you in a deep kiss, exchanging a million silent words.

You stared at the man standing on your porch and your heart began beating on your chest. You parked your car and exited the vehicle, that took no longer than five seconds, but it felt like hours as thoughts ran through your mind - why was Andy at your house? Why was he waiting for you?

The week that had passed was filled with awkward silences and tense conversations, so much so that the group had pretty much divided itself to prevent the weird atmosphere that had ensued - you'd sometimes hang out with one half, and then you'd hang out with the other. You felt bad for your friends, it felt like they had to take turns to spend time with everyone...

"Andy... Hi." You greeted, trying to hide the nervousness "Do you want to-"

"Do you like him? Do you have feelings for him?" He was cutthroat and went directly to the issue, to the core of the reason why he was there, as Andy didn't seem like he wanted to spend a long time in your presence.

The question was deafening, it was something you hadn't even admitted to Bucky himself, it was something you knew the answer to, but you had never voiced it out loud.

You took a deep breath and looked at Andy.

"I do." Your voice was firm and determined, as if it had been something you struggled with, when in reality coming to terms that you did have feelings for a man like that was the easiest that you ever had to do, but admitting it to his son, your friend... that was rough.

There was sorrow in his eyes as he heard the answer. Andy pressed his lips together in an understanding smile as he slowly nodded.

"Why?"

You thought you had heard wrong. Was he asking "why" you had feelings for his dad, "why" you had done it, "why" your feelings for Andy had come to a halt...

"What?"

He sighed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Why do you like him?"

"I mean..." You swallowed thickly and licked your lips, there was no way to word why you had come to like Bucky so much without being cheesy "He's always on the forefront when it comes to protecting me, even when I was just your friend to him, he went out of his way to get rid of a group of guys that were harassing me. He's really kind, he treats me well and although he has this rough exterior he's really sensitive and loving." You paused and look into Andy's sad eyes "He cares about you, very much, and he feels really sorry..."

"I know he does... That's why this is so hard for me. I would've expected it if he was a deadbeat who didn't give a shit about me, but he's always been there, he's always been my best-friend and now... I still love him, I don't think I will ever not love him, but it was an unexpected blow." Those words were hard for Andy, you could tell.

His voice was breaking and cracking, as if he had to physically pull them out of his throat.

"I came down here because I wanted to know... I needed to know if you and my dad were just a fling or it was an actual thing." The boy struggled with his words, and so did you, wanting everything to be as broad and un-specific as possible.

"Is it better that I like him?" You asked, unsure if that was the answer he was looking for.

Andy shrugged. The boy himself was not sure what answer he was searching for, and what outcome would be best.

"In a way it's better that you actually like him, because then you weren't just crewing up things between us for a one night stand, but in the long run it might hurt me more. I-I don't know..."

"I'm sorry, Andy..."

"Yeah, you've said that, you and him." He said, with a cynical chuckle, which struck you deeply "I'm not saying I will never forgive you, I eventually will, you were a good friend to me, but right now I can't be the bigger person and just forgive you both."

"I can wait." You said with a small, sympathetic smile.

Andy just nodded, and bid you a silent goodbye. There wasn't exactly closure, and it wasn't the conclusion you had hoped for (or expected), but it was better than nothing.

You stood on your porch, watching as he left, thinking about what had just happened, and trying to process what it all meant.

"Hey."

You snapped your head in the direction of the very familiar voice.

"Bucky, hey! Andy just left, actually." You told him, as you pointed towards the direction his son had gone in.

"I know, I got here a while ago, but it didn't seem like a conversation I should be a part of."

"So you were nearby... waiting?" You realized.

"Yes." The man responded simply.

"So did you hear..."

You hoped the answer was negative, you prayed it was negative.

"I did."

Oh. What a nightmare. You had just indirectly confessed to him, he had heard you tell his son how much you liked him. It was too soon, you hadn't been together for long, and it wasn't something you wanted him to know yet.

"Oh... It's okay if you don't feel the same, I mean it hasn't been a long time so I get it but-"

"Don't do that." Bucky interrupted your rant, with a serious tone.

You had been averting your gaze, too nervous to meet his stare, but at that sentence, you looked up into his eyes.

"Do what?" You asked.

"Act like you're somehow not enough for me to feel the same. Act like what we have isn't special, and act like I wasn't obsessed with you from the very start."

Bucky stepped forward and cupped your face with his hands.

"There's no use in denying what we feel, Y/N, and time doesn't fucking matter because a day with you feels like a second, it's never enough. So don't focus on the days we spent, let's just focus on the days we have ahead, okay? The sooner we start our journey, the more time we will have to enjoy it, together."

You were too choked up to respond, you could only wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss.

"Fuck me like you want to make me yours forever." You whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

Bucky instantly grabbed your thighs with his hands, making you wrap his legs around his waist as he hurriedly carried you inside of the house.

For the first time, when he laid you on your bed, he took his time. He removed his clothes first, and then slowly peeled your off of every item you wore, taking in your curves like you were a piece of art at the Louvre.

He kissed the skin between your breasts and played with them softly, before trailing his lips down your body, eyes locked on yours drinking your every expression. The man kissed the inside of your thighs, taking his time before eating you out. His tongue tasted you hungrily, and, although he tried taking his time, Bucky's desperation showed - he couldn't get enough of you.

"Bucky please..." You begged, unable to wait any longer.

He listened to your pleas instantly, locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, before slipping into you so easily that it felt like a puzzle coming together.

This time, he didn't let you go. He held you close and looked into your eyes as he fucked you, listening to your every command, to your every noise like it was music.

And, when the two of you came in sync, promises of staying together forever came out in unison.

"minors dni" banner credit - @cafekitsune

taglist: @bookofriverr ; @starfly-nicole ; @deafening-roar-of-angry-students ; @blackhawkfanatic

Thank you so much for the support 🩷 I haven't proofread it yet, sorry for any mistakes

[feninina]

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐭𝐞 ༉‧₊˚.⁀➷

therapist! jonathan crane x female reader.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: when your father decided that you needed therapy, taking you to his dear friend dr. crane to treat and help you, you thought it wouldn't work at all, but it turned out to be everything you needed.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: SMUT(minors dni!!), noncon/dubcon, depression, cursing, crane is a mysoginistic prick, using therapy for unhinged reasons, smut, hair pulling, jonathan just being an creep, choking AND strangulation, dacryphilia, hitting, unprotected sex (safe sex its great sex!!), breeding kink, forced breeding, power dynamics, i think crane should be a warning himself, reader being borderline stupid and naive. also this has a lot of backstory i’m so sorry i got carried away lol.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7.1K

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: omg my first fic on here!! this is also my first work on english and my first smut ever so i apologise in advance for any mistake!! i hope y'all enjoy it anyways ahahahaha live laugh love jonathan crane👏🏻 feedback its very appreciated so i can improve and continue to publish better works, anyways enjoyyyy 💓

𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁

It was awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting across from Doctor Crane in the couch at your dad's house, legs crossed as you watched him write on his clipboard, something about it making you feel anxious, a little nauseous, even.

This wasn't your first session, you started doing this four months ago, not long after your divorce that caused you to fall into a spiral of sadness and misery. Your failed— and short marriage was the main reason you started taking therapy with your dad's friend, the chief of Arkham, Jonathan Crane, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it.

He was patient, you told him several times that he was a saint. Regardless, before you started with the sessions, he explained to your dad that he didn't really do this; therapy really wasn't his strong suit, but for a friend, a desperate one, he would gladly do it.

Your dad came to him, offering a big stack of money if he would talk to his little girl, make her recover her once joyful personality, like you had one to begin with. Jonathan really couldn't say no, and not really because of the money, he had other reasons in mind, unethical reasons.

And there you were now. You were quick to open up to him, eager to talk, to be listened and he, on the other hand, was ready to listen, to give you advice, console you and help you get through the sorrow that was following you since you were young, playing the role of your knight in shinning armor.

"I can't believe you don't actually do this" you said once, sniffling your nose with a handkerchief he gave you as he examined you with a warm gaze, an empathetic grin on his face. "You're really helping me"

Jonathan was quick to wave his hand and tell you that it wasn't a big deal, that he was just doing his job, and if you weren't so innocent, so stupid, you would have noticed the mischievous sparkle that flickered in his eyes for a split second.

You were landing right in the palm of his hand.

Not even thirty minutes into the first session you told him everything about your past; every little thing you thought he needed to know to treat you. And you were slightly right; he did need to know those things, but not to treat you, just to manipulate you and mold your little brain into what he was envisioning for you and your future together.

Truth was, you hated everything about your life, regardless of the fact that you had everything. That's what you've been told since you were a child; a big house, a lot of money, maids taking care of you so you wouldn't have to move a finger and just sit pretty and relax inside the walls of the huge mansion that confined you since you could recall.

You have everything. That was bullshit.

Sometimes, you couldn't help but think that people told you that out of pity, like they knew how miserable you felt, but not daring to say a word about it. Your dad was a powerful man, and you were aware of that, ever since you were born, he had bussines with Falcone and you knew that people feared him, he practically ruled Gotham, that lifeless and dangerous city that you had to live in.

You have everything. You were tired of that sentence. You didn't care at all about these nice things surrounding you, those dresses in your closet, those diamonds in your jeweler, that fancy car you owned since your eighteenth birthday, no, that was useless in your eyes, because all you really wanted, was love.

It was a lonely life; you learned how to do everything by yourself, how to comb your hair, how to deal with your period when it first came, how to dress up properly and do your makeup. You didn't even had to learn about boy problems because there weren't any boys in your life, you were homeschooled. So you were quiet, not really having to talk at all, there was nobody to talk to.

And since Jonathan was the only person you were talking to at the moment, you started to feel like you loved him, the idea sitting right with you without you even knowing it, thinking that this was how therapy normally went.

Loneliness striked your life at a young age; your mother died from a strange disease when you were eight, leaving you with a shattered heart thad bled everytime you walked past her bedroom, or saw a picture of her. You practically watched her die, a witness of how she lost her strength, how her once beautiful skin turned pale and yellow, and lost every little spark within herself, and the worst part was that all the money you had, couldn't even help her.

It was a deep wound that you carried with yourself, with nobody to talk about it.

Your father spent his days locked up in his office, and when he wasn't there, he was out in the city doing unthinkable things that you didn't even wanted to know about, leaving you on your own, having to fill all of those silent and empty rooms by yourself, with nobody to laugh with, nobody to hold you and see you grow. He wasn't really around, working all the time, too busy to know that his daughter didn't seem to care about all the expensive stuff he bought for her, not even taking the time to have dinner with you or hold a simple conversation. He loved you, you knew that, he just wasn't the type to show his affection with words or actions, but with gifts. And you hated everything about it.

But now, Jonathan was there, making you feel listened, finally saving you from falling into loneliness again. Your whole life, you thought you had a horrible sickness, that you were doomed to this awful destiny of sorrow and silence, but now, with his sweet words and good company, you couldn't be more than relieved.

You wished sometimes that you met him earlier, that this whole therapy stuff started before, and you even confessed it to him. And it irked him a little, that you didn't even remember how you two really met each other, hiding his annoyance with a warm smile.

Some months ago, your father started to brought you to parties he attended, parties were all the corrupts scumbags from Gotham reunited and celebrated how they were dragging the city to the gates of hell on their benefit, and you couldn't be more happy to attend them. You knew he was bringing you because he recently broke up with the young girl he carried with him— that was most likely your age, and needed a pretty thing to hang of his arm and take care of the people he didn't feel like talking to.

So you accepted this new life, eating up this role of socialite like it was made for you.

It was a chance to know people, to speak and make new friends, but you learned quickly that those people weren't there for that, and picked up on how mostly of the people who talked to you just wanted to climb up the social ladder and gain some extra points from your father.

He, even, introduced you to a couple of people that seemed close to your age, and you chatted with them, feeling extremely anxious because you weren't used to this, so it was weird to them seeing such a pretty woman, with your status and fortune, acting so shy and quiet in a place that your dad practically owned.

After a couple of hours, you learned the agenda. All you had to do was put on a fake smile, get them off your father's shoulders and pretend you were very interested in what they had to say, hiding your uncomfortable expression behind your glass of champagne, promising them that you would arrange a reunion with your father someday.

One of those nights, your father introduced you to someone, someone who you didn't pay much attention because he seemed to be uninterested too, only being there for the sake of his job.

"Pretty girl, come here" your father said, a cheerful tone of voice as grabbed you by the shoulder to get your attention, snapping you out of your train of thoughts. "I want you to meet my friend, Doctor Crane"

You looked at the man in front of your dad, his pale blue eyes already sizing you up discretely, looking at you up and down in a way that didn't go unnoticed by you, a shiver running down your spine as his eyes finally locked with yours.

You couldn't help but feel small under his gaze, your glass now forgotten in your left hand, the right one extended to take his and stretch it for a quick second, returning to your first position, his expression remaining serious.

"Nice to meet you" he spoke, his voice sounding like velvet in your eyes, not quite sensing the undertone behind it. "Your father told me wonders about you"

You grin, the irony of that sentence making you laugh a little, what wonders could your father know about you? But you kept your composure, the conversation not going any further, and you forgot about him fast enough, when in another of those annoying parties you met the love of your life — or so you thought.

That same night, when you went back home, you were thinking about spending the rest of your life with some guy that flirted with you at the bar, and Jonathan, prayed to whatever thing listening to him up there, that crossed your path with his again.

He practically obsessed with you, because it felt right. You were young, beautiful, wealthy and had a last name that could open even more doors for him, getting tired of saving Falcone's man of going to jail; you were an opportunity, tied to a nice pair of legs.

After a few weeks of stalking, it kinda broke his heart that naive as he expected you, you got married to the guy from the party; he told you then his name was Lewis, and now you doubted it that was even true.

You were finally going to get what you always wished for, a family, love. And it was perfect. Everything was perfect.

It was a dream that you were living in. A dream that shattered in front of you no longer than three months after.

After you contracted married with this man, you took care of the house, now learning all of these housewife duties that you didn't know anything about, but making your best effort to please him, to be the perfect woman ever created, departing from your old life and habits and adjusting them to his own.

You couldn't be more happy, regardless of your bad cooking, the bad-swiped floor and the half-done bed that welcomed you both every night, you finally had love.

It lasted three months. Your wholesome real life fantasy of a marriage destroyed when you found out, accidentally, that this man was just an employee of your dad, willing to get a promotion if he married you. At that moment, you didn't know who you hated more, if the bastard, or your dad who was literally bribing the bastard to love you.

But your dad only wanted to make you happy, tho.

You were embarrassed, not quite sure of how to tell this to Jonathan, because after all, he was there for you, just for the money your dad was paying him. Your cursed the day your dad became rich, because all of it was making you miserable and it felt like it wasn't going to stop.

At this point, a feeling of despite against you was growing within Jonathan, after a few weeks treating you, he quickly remembered why he didn’t chose this path of career, but remembering that he was there because of a major reason; a reason more important than your helpless cries for attention.

He was sick of you, all you ever did was complain in the commodity of your million dollar house, unaware that there were more important problems in the world. It isn’t completely your fault, Jonathan thought one day, you were just an ungrateful brat, and his work was to tame you, and he planned to do just that today.

"So," he startled you, narrowing his eyebrows, an expression in his face that you could only understand as concern. "remember, if you don't speak, I can't help you".

You chuckle and shift your weight in the chair, immediately feeling your eyes fill up with tears as you confronted the fact that you had to speak about it, right now. He was quick to offer you his handkerchief, as he always did and with shaky hands you took it, sniffling onto it, closing your eyes as you felt your whole body shake with each one of your cries.

You felt Jonathan put his hand on your knee, softy caressing the skin that his thumb could reach, opening your eyes and looking at his, Jonathan welcoming you with a pitying look. You put the tissue aside, both him being so close and his scent impregnated on the piece of fabric making you feel a little giddy, a little confused.

Why was your heart racing so much? He was your therapist, here to talk about your former husband.

Jonathan couldn't help but grin a little, knowing he was maybe breaking a rule here, touching you like this, being so close. He couldn't care less, after all, he wasn't here listening to you cry and bitch about your whole life for the sake of your well-being. He was here because he wanted you to break and get on your knees to him. Figuratively and literally.

"It's so embarrassing" you struggled to spit out "He didn't even love me, Doctor"

He hummed, dragging his chair so he was a little closer to you, you looked at him through your teary lashes and tried to keep it together, this wasn't the first time you cried in front of him, but the reason itself was enough to make you feel full of shame.

He didn't say anything, this being a motivation for you to continue.

"My dad was paying him" you murmured, cleaning the mascara off your cheeks. "It was all a lie"

The whole situation was absurd, what happened to you still felt like a sick joke they were playing on you, your dad and Lewis, probably waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the truth.

But that wasn't going to happen, right now the only thing that felt true to you was Jonathan. He set you up to that, and you blindly fell on his silly trap.

"Poor thing" he cooed you, moving his hand a little further up your thigh, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. A mastermind, that's how he felt. "How could they?"

That was all the mendacity he fed you with since you started seeing him, making you believe he was actually empathizing with you, full of loathe against everyone who hurt you, who dared to leave you alone, but now he was there, his task being to pretend to care.

"It's pathetic" you blurted out, leaning into his touch when his prying hand went up to your cheek. You really couldn't say anything more, crying against his hand like it was something you did every monday morning. "I'm so sad. I don't know what to do"

He shook his face, your eyes meeting his with a confused expression, black stained tears dropping on your lap and wetting his hand before he returned it and looked over his clipboard, pretending to think.

You were so vulnerable, ready for him to destroy. He finally got you where he wanted. He then explained you that you were so sad that it made you unaware of a lot of things, blinded by your own pity against yourself that every door that opened, you closed. It all came down to a thing; you needed a diagnosis.

He gave you a moment to process the information, ready to continue with his plan.

"Actually," he started, his tone now more firm, more strict, the one he used when you were approaching the end of the session. On the last one, he recommended you to touch yourself, to liberate oxytocin on your brain or something you really didn't understood.

It was almost evil from his side, he knew that your only thought while doing it would he him ordering you to do so.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of such awful news, Y/N" he stated, making your heart skip a beat. "But I think you're sick"

You nearly gasped, the air got stuck in your throat, more tears gathering in your eyes. You lifted one of your hands to your chest, a million thoughts crossing your head as Jonathan's clever eyes examined your expression.

Bingo.

"Sick" you repeated after a moment, almost like you were making peace with the revelation. "How sick?"

It was an innocent question, your tone of voice shaking as your inferior lip trembled, holding it with your teeth in an attempt to not burst into tears again, your whole body feeling like it was going to break into a million peaces by how much you were shaking in the couch.

Jonathan was quick, standing from the chair he was on and taking a seat by your side, his hand swiftly placing in your knee. You looked at him confused, he never got this close, maybe your sickness was serious.

"What am I, Doctor?" you whispered, your eyes showing him a hint of fear that made him finally lose all his faked professionalism. "Depressed? Crazy?"

Both of you were dying of anticipation now; meanwhile you feared that you were going to get admitted to Arkham, Jonathan was seeing the golden ticket to the best future he could ever achieve, and all thanks to you.

"Oh, no, no" he purred, his hand making its way up to your thigh. "You're sick, not crazy"

You parted your lips as his hand moved more further, not really sure of what was happening, not daring to stop him, too scared of your mental health to think about anything else, not helping the way your legs started to part too.

A sudden gasp left your lips as his hand squeezed your tight, a smile you never saw on him appearing on his face. The crying stopped a moment ago, the surprise of having him so close making you go a little numb.

"I know what a girl like you needs" he said, almost sternly, like his hand wasn't centimeters away from your panties.

Was in that moment, that you knew this wasn’t about therapy anymore.

"You think so?" you whispered, your voice still shaky, but now for a whole different reason. "And what is it, Doctor?"

"To be fucked stupid"

It almost shocked you how he said that as it was a normal diagnosis, like he gave you a name of a medicine you could go and buy at any drugstore in town. You gulped and didn't move when his grip tightened on your leg, your face growing red.

A loud gasp escaped your lips when at your lack of response, Jonathan grabbed you hard by the jaw and forced you to look at him. Your eyes glistened with nothing but fear, your brows narrowing as you mumbled something that he really couldn't understand, and it wasn't like he wanted to.

"You're sick, Y/N" he repeated, more harshly this time, his hand moving your head as he spoke. "And I'm going to cure you"

He let go of your face to clasp his lips against yours, a kiss very far away from sweet, his mouth moving roughly against yours. You never had been kissed like this, so you tried to play it along, trying to show him some of the love you felt for him, that you thought you owed him.

But he didn't care if you felt loved during the kiss, trying to assert the dominance he held upon you, his hand now holding firmly the back of you neck to prevent you from pulling away.

It was a mess; your teeth clashed, drool was dripping from your chin as his tongue explored every space of your mouth, not leaving anywhere of it untouched. Your movements were a little stiff, unsure of what to do, trying to provide the sweetness that he lacked.

His hand moved to your the front of your neck and squeezed it a little, making you yelp in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth. You tried to get away from the kiss, confused about his rough actions against you, a little scared of him even, almost like you didn’t trust him every little part of your brain in this same couch for the last couple of months.

But then it clicked on your foggy brain, he knew you, perfectly— you only knew his name, you didn’t know what this man was capable of.

You could only move a few centimeters away from his hungry mouth, your lips parted as tears welled in your eyes from the pressure he was applying to your neck.

“Stop” you managed to stutter, your breath mixing with his. “I can’t- breathe”

You doubted that he listened to you, your voice not coming out of your throat at all and getting stuck in your larynx, your voice-box completely muffled by his strong grip.

“Shut up, brat” he spitted, his tone sounding full of abhor, your eyes wide open as you felt the air leaving your body and your lungs starting to burn. “Always getting what you want”

You weakly placed one of your hands around his wrist, another attempt of gasp elicited from your agape mouth as he lifted his other hand and choked you with both, something in your dizzy mind telling you that he was possessed.

“Crying all the time- complaining” he continued, not caring if you were listening, the suffocation being to much to bare now. “So selfish”

And maybe he was.

Your brain was filled with fear, wondering how it all went from a kiss to this— almost getting killed by your therapist in your couch. You opened your eyes to meet his, feeling like your chest was on fire as there wasn’t any air flowing in, seeing how the blue of Jonathan’s eyes has darkened and his lips were parted as well, the muscles of his jaw twitching as he choked you to death.

Your eyebrows narrowed together in terror as you noticed that familiar tingly sensation in your lower belly and your thighs clenching together. Maybe it was something about him exercising this power over you, how you felt so feeble under his touch, that was probably leaving bruises on your neck for you to carry and show around what he was making you do it.

You didn’t have enough time to think about it, you were practically dying.

“And you are enjoying this?” he said with an amused tone, probably noticing how your thighs fragily contracted against one another.

You felt yourself slowly lose your consciousness when finally the relief came and the air started to flow again to your desperate lungs, taking long and loud puffs of air when his hand let go of your neck. Your erratic breath was interrupted by a loud moan that escaped you when Crane yanked you by your hair and shoved you to the floor.

He was quick yo position you between his legs, looking at you through his unfixed glasses, giving you a twisted smile that made you quiver in fear, that growing wet patch on your panties making you feel like a really sick girl.

“Doctor-” you mumbled, closing your eyes as he pulled your hair, withdrawing a mewl off your mouth. “Hurts”

“You talk when I tell you to talk” he snickered, adjusting the way his fingers gripped your hair. You thought that he might just pull out the strand he was tugging. “I’m sick of your whining”

You felt more tears well up in your eyes; not sure if it was from the pain in your head or how his words felt like a knife that landed right on your heart. You were confused, sad, angry— a little hot, too.

“I pay you yo listen to me” you said, your voice so shaky you were lucky he could understand you. You wished he didn’t understand you.

Another sort of moan left your lips as a hard slap made a landing in your cheek, your face turned to the side because of the impact. You closed your eyes in disbelief, a cry coming out as you felt helpless, wondering if this was some exposure therapy he was experimenting on you.

He repeated himself, instructing you to talk only when you were told so, nodding in defeat as you accepted whatever this was and continued to play along with Jonathan’s sick fantasy of controlling you, without even knowing it.

You looked at him with nothing but inquietude, the look in his eyes giving you the foreboding that nothing good was about to happen now, frightened of what we would do to you.

He didn’t show any hints of letting go of your hair anytime soon, just holding it firmly to keep you looking at him through your heavy lashes, a wicked grin on his smug face.

“Let’s give that whining mouth of yours a good use” he said, and you gulped, understanding what he wanted and quivering in fear, not really understanding why the sticky sensation between your legs grew.

“Undo my pants” he commanded, and you stayed still, your eyes not leaving his even when another slap landed on your tear-wet face. “Do as you’re told, brat. This might be your only cure”

You couldn’t help but sob a little, his tone sounding so definitive, so professional. Your trembling hands reached his belt and unbuckling it ungracefully, taking longer than he expected, you heard him chuckle as you unbuttoned his pants afterwards, then putting your hands back in front of your lap.

“C’mon” he pulled your hair again, causing you to moan in pain. “Don’t make me tell you what to do”

You looked at him again in nothing but shame, trying to resist to this humiliating request of his, but complying it anyways. He said he was going to cure you, but now you doubted it, right now, you only wanted this to be over.

With a last look at his eyes you returned your attention to the growing bulge in his slacks, the shame in your brain being present at all times, not quite helping the way your eyes were fixated on his clothed member. You were quick to free him out after your staring earned you a other harsh pull of hair, your lips turned into a line when his cock slapped his abdomen, causing his dress shirt to wrinkle a little.

“Go on, Y/N” he encouraged you, as you looked at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him for mercy, knowing that even if you screamed it at him, he just wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t about what you want, anymore. Is about what you need”

A tear slid from your eyes and disappeared down your cheek when his free hand placed the tip of his hard cock on your parted lips, gesturing you to take it and not waste more of his time— more than you already did.

“Open up, whore” he said under his breath, using your hair as a device to move your head and help you shove his length down your throat. You complied, the tears in your eyes now soaking in you cheeks by the effort that you were making trying to welcome his thick shaft down your mouth.

You were sure you scratched him with your teeth a few times as he bobbed your head up and down with his strong hand, manhandling you without care for his own pleasure. You placed your hands on his knees, trying not to gag, but when his tip touched the bottom of your throat, you couldn’t help it.

You cried as you felt suffocated again, now for a whole different reason, a more humiliating one, and you almost wished he killed you then. His hips buckled everytime your lips reached the base of his cock, the room filled with the sounds of your mouth and saliva coating his shaft and the soft moans that came out of his poisoned lips.

“Take it, whore” he said, his voice now husky and distorted by the pleasure, the pain that your teeth accidentally inflicted on him turning him even more. “God- you are horrible at this”

He chuckled between heavy breaths, pulling you by the hair and releasing his cock from your mouth, a vulgar pop filling both of your ears at the sudden separation of your lips and his member. Your eyes looked at the floor, feeling such a shame that the mere thought of meeting his face with your fearful face made you cringe, the pulsating pain on the back of your head making you dizzy.

“You can’t suck dick properly” he said, his tone sounding like he was making fun of you. “No wonder why your husband left you. You’re just pathetic”

You finally rose up your face to look at that insufferable smile of his, ignoring the way his cock was still hanging there in front of you, almost brushing your nose. His fingers finally untangled from your hair and giving you some sort of solace, the consolation that this traumatic session was over.

Maybe the remedy was worse than the sickness itself.

“Jonathan, stop it, plea-”

Your imploration was completely ignored, followed by another slap on your wet cheek that made you cry even more, not understanding how this man could’ve been the same one who made you felt loved and finally listened. You fell for a lie once again.

“Get on the couch” he simply said, his words were like a bucket of cold water fell on you. “Stop the bitching, don’t want to hear it”

“And I’m your doctor. Not Jonathan” he reminded you, making you feel even more ashamed.

You did as he told, again, half-standing from the floor and sitting next to him, trying to take as much space from him as you could before he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, your face growing red as his face was now centimeters away from yours.

“You look so beautiful when you cry” he whispered, caressing your face but trying to nor wipe the tears away, almost like he was admiring you. It made you melt into his touch, glad that his kind demeanor was there again. Even if his words made you cringe— and the fact that his cock was still out, you felt your heart grew warmer by the way he tenderly touched you.

It didn’t last much longer, when his lips twitched into a malicious smile and went down to nibble your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses around the bruised skin and bitting where his fingers hurt you previously, making your fingers wrap on his hair and cry for mercy, trying for him to stop hurting you this much.

“Shut up, stupid brat” he repeated that same insult, making you swallow your cries, closing your eyes in disbelief as he continued to injure your already suffering skin.

You arched your back in surprise when all of the sudden his hands reached for your breasts, groping your tits like his life depending on it, stimulating you through the fabric of your shirt, but all you felt was fear and anger, impotence flowing through your veins because you just couldn’t scream and push him away, fear was freezing you on the spot.

The worst part? You maybe didn’t wanted to push him away. Because maybe if he gets what he wants now you would be cured and he’ll be back to normal, returning you the sweet Doctor Crane that you met once, not this monster that was groping you like a piece of meat.

He clicked his tongue and dropped both of his hands to spread your legs open, forcing your back to drop onto the hand rester of the couch. You looked at him with big eyes, your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and scream to Jonathan that enough was enough, you just couldn’t take any of this anymore.

But your heart stayed there, between your lungs that seemed incapable to hold any air, making your breathing erratic. So nobody screamed Jonathan to stop, and he continued with his profanation against your persona— your dignity.

He bit his lip at the sight of your fucked-up face, your legs open as it showed him the dark patch on your baby blue panties, darting his eyes from your half-exposed crotch to your teary eyes.

“God, keep crying and I might come now” he growled, lowering his face to meet your pussy, kissing it through your underwear, making you mewl, closing your eyes at the sudden attention your core was getting.

You felt embarrassed at how much you enjoyed when he moved the fabric to the side and started making out with your cunt, swallowing your fluids like a starved man.

“So wet” he mumbled against your labia, the vibration making your eyes roll back, bitting your lip to prevent any moan to come out; he was raping you, why did he make you enjoy it? “I bet you like this, to be treated like a whore”

You shook your head, more tears falling out of your eyes as you felt nothing else but humiliation, pleasure washing over your body everytime his tongue brushed your clit, your back arched against nothing.

“You like it?” he said, finally pulling out and pushing his body up so his face was in front of yours, his cock grazing against your now stimulated pussy, a gasp leaving your lips, a gasp that quickly turned into a hurting moan when his hand slapped you again, this time in your throbbing cunt. “Answer me”

“I- I do” you whispered, gripping his shoulders when you felt him align the head of his member with your whole, scared of how it was going to fit. You had trouble taking it when he face-fucked you, how the fuck it was going to fit down there?

“I’m going to fuck you so good” he whispered between pants, jerking himself off before entering you. “You’re going to forget that pathetic husband of yours”

You couldn’t help but cry, trying to push him off by the shoulders, a terrified look on your face. “It won’t fit, Doctor” you pleaded, a crooked grin on his face as you keep on calling him that. “I beg you, don’t-”

“Yes, beg me” he said, starting to push his member inside you with a slow but relentlessly pace, not giving you enough time to adjust, just to scream and hit him weakly on the chest, face and shoulders before ge grabbed your hands and pinned them down, on the sides of your body. “I’m going to cure you- do you so good”

His voice was low, as he barely could speak when he felt just how tight you were, your walls hugging his cock just the right way, his pulsating head making your mind dizzy, the stinging pain starting to be forgotten.

But when he slid out and entered back it, the hardness of his movement made your insides burn with pain, a loud cry echoing in the walls of the living room as he started to trust into your pussy with a fast pace, not caring at all if you felt good.

He snapped his hips against yours with an animalistic force, growls escaped from his mouth every time his cock was welcomed by the warmth of your stretch whole, the sensation making him go even more feral, making you cry more.

He let go of one of your hands and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at his eyes as he fucked you vigorously, the blue on his iris not existent anymore, only his widely dilated pupils meeting yours, your blurred vision distinguishing the depraved expression in his face.

“You- so tight” he snarled, his voice barely audible, covered by the sound of skin slapping and your loud cries. “I bet your stupid husband didn’t fuck you like this”

You felt nothing but shame as you felt his cock now sliding in and out more easily, the wetness of your cunt growing as he spoke to you like that, that familiar heat flourishing in your lower belly as his words degraded you, your cries quickly becoming moans.

“This was all you needed- fuck” he said, his spit splashing your face as he talked, his words full of disdain. “A good dick, that’s all it takes to keep bitches like you quiet” You nodded, thinking that if you agreed he would stop. How wrong you were.

In a quick movement Jonathan took his cock out and spun you around, not giving you time to get on your ass up by laying your chest down before he stabbed your hole again, pushing your skirt all the way up to see how his pelvis came into collision with your ass.

You were moaning like a bitch in heat now, sure that the maids were listening, not really caring about it anymore. Jonathan was fucking you nice and hard, your mouth wide open as his tip brushed your cervix, screaming to him to keep it right there.

“I’m close” he said, pulling your hair back to press his chest to your back, his other hand going down to play with your swollen clit, wanting your to come around his cock like the slut he knew you were. “Come with me, you whore”

“Yes” you moaned, your tongue out as his cock hit the right spots, making your hips to move against his, grinding against his hand and dick, feeling your wetness drip down to your thighs. “Yes, yes, I want to”

He laughed, approaching your ear with his tongue to bite it, leaving a long and wet kiss underneath it that made you grow hotter, your eyes closed as you let him use you; the only thought in your mind being him and his wonder-working cock.

Truth was, he was fucking you stiffly, every slam of his hips stronger than the last one, but you were so deprived of touch, so dick-starved, that even if Jonathan was fucking you like a lifeless doll, only for the sake of his pleasure, you loved it, even when it hurt you.

“I’m going to fill you up” he said against your ear, his hand leaving your clit unattended as he grabbed your hip to increase the velocity of his thrusts, ramming your hole like a demented man, making your head drop against his shoulder and scream at the ceiling, now knowing what he meant by curing you.

“Going to get you pregnant” he said, more to himself than anything “so you don’t have to bitch about being alone anymore”

You opened your eyes with terror, you didn’t want children, you were so young. The idea made you frightened, the moaning now sounding like little nos and pull outs, but Jonathan didn’t listen.

“Doctor please, please, pull out” you pleaded, reaching for his hips and trying to push him away, one of his hands slapping your ass and pulling you down by your shoulder blade so you wouldn’t fight anymore. “Doctor Crane please”

“I will fucking fill you up, Y/N” he chanted, laughing at the idea of your round belly and your swollen tits, carrying his baby all day and feeling all worked up and needy all day, only waiting for him to fuck you all day. “You won’t be alone again. You won’t be sad again”

Then you realized it.

When he came, your hot walls creamed every single drop of his cum, making his thrusts sloppy and slow, his moans filling your ears as you sobbed under his touch, feeling his seed paint your walls and load your insides with his sperm.

That was your cure.

His hot release that now flooded inside your leaking cunt, that was your so-promised antidote. He took away your solitude by giving you his and yours firstborn, a bastard baby that would give you the company that you lacked.

You felt him chuckle as he rode out his high, the chase of his own climax made you forget yours, so now there you were, your swollen cunt looking for its release while his rested among your insides calmly, like it was meant to be.

He didn’t pull out immediately, taking his time to appreciate the sight of your skirt resting in your hips all rolled up, your bruised neck and messy hair, the way your ass was exposed to him by the way he had you arching your back. All for him— for him to wreck.

He pulled out and rolled his eyes when you started crying, now being annoying instead of hot. You sat on the couch and saw him button his pants and fix his hair, hissing when you felt nothing but pain growing in your worn-out pussy. You explained through your weak voice how he ruined your life, that he was the worst person you’ve ever met and that now you had to carry the product of his sick and twisted rapist-fantasy, even tried to hit him, but your pathetic tantrum only gained you another slap in the face, and a stern look.

When he tried to stand up and leave, you grabbed him by the wrist and begged him not to, he couldn’t just leave you, not now, not ever.

“Don’t be so ungrateful” he said, a smile that made you feel nothing but trepidation in his face. “You’ll never be alone again”

You couldn’t help but feel scared. Scared of him, of what just happened, of what’s going to happen next, scared for your future son with this evil specie of a man.

When you continued to cry, and he pulled you for a hug as he assured you that he would never leave you; and how could he? He had a long life of success waiting for him now, giving a girl of your status his last name, his children. Oh, it’s going to be wonderful, he just needed to tame you and make you the perfect slave for him, and that wasn’t going to be hard.

You were sure that you’ll never be loved, but at least now Jonathan was going to be with you. You’ll never be alone again.

thanks for reading. w/love, fenina;)

taglist: @lovesickxcherries @genini @ilunapb @ostricx @devotedlyshadowytheorist

if you want to be added let me know, it’ll be my pleasure🫶🏻

[lazycats-stuff]

Yo, could you make m!reader who’s the son of Bruce and Selina and him meeting the Batfamily? He’s like Damian’s age if not a year younger

Sure can do anon. Don't Selina and Bruce have a daughter in the comics? Also, the only gif that had the two of them in. I can't wait for Batman 2. It's taking far too long.

Summary: Selina and Bruce have a son. Bruce didn't know.

Warnings: (Y/N) is anxious, Bruce is trying... Fluff I guess?

Bruce should have known. How could he be so blind to it? How didn't he even notice? Feelings are a messy thing. And he shouldn't have allowed it to cloud his mind and judgement. But it happened. He had a one night stand with Selina and he didn't know that she was pregnant. He should have known when she wasn't out on Gotham scene and when he didn't see her for a while.

To say he was mad that she didn't tell him was an understatement. Bruce has every right to know about his son (Y/N). Was she worried that he wouldn't take care of his child? That it would be like, oh no, I won't take care of him because you are a criminal? No. Bruce takes care of all of his children.

No matter who they parents are. Children should not carry the burden of their parents. Children have nothing to do with the things that their parents do. Bruce never liked it when people would put everything that the child's parents did onto the child themselves. And now, when Bruce confronted Selina, he has made his demands.

He will not drag her through court. He would never do that. He would also provide financial support for (Y/N). He wanted to make sure that (Y/N) will never lack anything and more than anything in this world, he wanted to meet him. He knew that it would be awkward. And he wasn't wrong.

First few meetings were rough and awkward to say the very least. It hasn't been easy. (Y/N) was hesitant, but not because of the fact that Selina badmouthed him. Bruce knew that she would never do that. But when your father is Bruce Wayne and you are the youngest Wayne child out of the bunch and you didn't know until now... And the last name Wayne opens up a lot of doors for you.

After a few meetings, Bruce asked (Y/N) if he wanted to meet his siblings. (Y/N) was now more than hesitant. Would they even like him? Would they judge him for his mother? How would Damian Wayne react even? (Y/N) started overthinking everything, every single outcome possible.

Bruce could even see the gears turning in his head, trying to see all the possibilities. Bruce assured him that he will not do anything that he wouldn't do anything that he didn't want. If (Y/N) wanted to wait before meeting his siblings, Bruce will make sure to respect that boundary. Not to mention, to make sure that his other sons will respect that boundary.

Even Damian, who is simply ready to get every single piece of information on (Y/N). Damian wasn't happy about another biological son in the picture. He was happy to be the only one. But with a half brother, whose mother is a criminal, he was really not happy. Bruce knew that very well. So he tried to ease all 4 of his sons into meeting (Y/N).

Dick was excited at the thought of a new sibling, but hoped that he wouldn't be as bratty as Damian was when he first came to the family. But he had a feeling that Selina wouldn't allow (Y/N) to be a brat. No one is a fan of brats.

Jason hoped that he was nothing like Damian. He can't have another Damian around. He barely has the energy to deal with Damian as it is. He could only hope so.

Tim? He was going to do a background check on (Y/N) before hand, but otherwise has no problem with him. He finds Selina nice, but he should have seen this coming. Knowing that Bruce is playboy... All of those talks about protection seemingly don't matter when it comes to actual practice.

And Damian? Damian doesn't believe that people can change, criminals are in the most hardcore category of that opinion. However, Damian came to like Selina. He was bribed with cats. Animals are his weakness, but can you blame him? If he could, he would turn the manor into a farm. But since Bruce wouldn't allow it, he couldn't. Bruce owns the place and while he allowed Alfred the cat, Titus and the Batcow, still, Damian wanted to have more.

And Selina was more than happy to give him access to more animals, cats more specifically to cater to Damian. But Damian still wasn't still sold on the idea of trusting (Y/N). Or even meeting him. But he knew that they would have to meet up eventually.

Eventually, (Y/N) felt comfortable enough to meet the family. Bruce was very happy to hear that. Extremely happy to hear that. However, Bruce had to make sure that the other 4 were ready to behave. And that took some time to make sure that they knew what to do and to not scare (Y/N) off. It took (Y/N) a lot of courage to say that he wanted to meet them.

So Bruce was going to do his best to make sure that the meeting goes as smoothly as possible. Of course, there are going to be bumps, but Bruce is sure that he can steer everything in the right direction. And that's something that he was mentally preparing himself for.

And that's why (Y/N) and Bruce were still in the car, (Y/N) feeling like he wanted to jump at his skin. He wanted to turn back, but he got here... So he can't turn back now, can he?

" You ready (Y/N)? " Bruce asked, turning to his left to look at his son, who seemed anxious. No, ready to jump out of his skin.

" Is it too late to turn back now? "

Bruce chuckled at that, patting his shoulder. " Kind of. But you don't need to worry that much. Just be yourself. Okay? " Bruce gently said to (Y/N), who nodded. Bruce knew that (Y/N)'s anxiety wasn't gone and was still present, but he wished that (Y/N) would relax a tad more.

" Okay... I think I can try that. " (Y/N) said and Bruce smiled, nodding at that.

" Good. Now come on. " Bruce stepped out of the car and (Y/N) followed, moving to stand next to Bruce and then follow him to the front door. Bruce unlocked the door and let (Y/N) step in first. Bruce gently led him to the dining room where everyone was waiting.

" Now remember, be yourself, " Bruce whispered into his ear, before straightening up and leading him to the dining room. There was chatter in there and (Y/N) could hear different voices and he could hear that all 4 of his brothers were there... Well, half brothers... One half brother. The other ones are through adoption.

But still half brothers, no?

The chatter stopped once Bruce and (Y/N) entered.

" Everyone, this is (Y/N) Kyle, " Bruce introduced and the boys sized (Y/N) up, making him feel nervous. Bruce led (Y/N) to an empty sit, in between Tim and Dick, the two who are the nicest ones. Dick is nice and Tim is simply too tired to care about it. Damian and Jason? Both speak their minds. Jason directly and Damian does it with insults. Thinly veiled insults, mind you.

" So (Y/N), " Dick started and Bruce knew that Dick was trying to salvage the situation, well, trying to make the atmosphere better is a better word than salvage. " What are your hobbies? Interests? "

" I like art. I like to draw and I've been thinking of getting into painting actually, " (Y/N) responded, although still quietly from the anxiety.

Soon enough, the conversation started flowing and the atmosphere got lighter and more fun. Bruce watched his sons interact with a smile on his face. He could see that even Damian was warming up to (Y/N).

[munsonsmixtapes]

If you’re taking requests I would love a fluffy fic between Logan and a usually sunshine! Reader with mutant powers similar to Charles (telepathic). Specifically, one where the usual gang decide to go to a rowdy club to let off steam after a mission. Usually the reader loves team bonding but due to the music, all the thoughts jumping out of the drunk crowd, and her own drinking, she gets super overstimulated and essentially shuts down. Maybe Logan sees her off on her own and trying to manage to get over her dizzy spell while some guy is bothering her and decides to step in and escort her out for a breather and a walk. ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡. Regardless if you pick this up, I hope you’re having a great week and I look forward to whatever you post next!

Thank you so much! I hope you're having a great week as well!

cw: mention of alcohol, reader gets anxious

The club was crowded when you entered it. You were all looking forward to letting off steam after your mission and you just liked to spend time with the team, Logan especially. Even though he never would have admitted it, he had a soft spot for you. You were the newest addition to the group and he just felt the need to protect you. You hadn't gotten full control of your powers yet and he wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong.

You made a beeline fore the bar and ordered your usual drink before sitting down on one of the stools, making conversation with everyone around you, even making them laugh with whatever you were talking about. That was one thing that Logan admired about you, that you were always able to make conversation with anyone you came across, which was not something he could do even if he wanted to. He didn't have your charisma or that bright, bubbly personality that he adored so much.

Once he saw that you were okay, he moved further back into the club, but decided to sit somewhere he could still see you. He didn't like drinking when he was doing things like that. He wanted to be one hundred percent alert so he had no problem volunteering to be the designated driver even though his mouth watered anytime he saw someone drinking one of his go-to drinks.

You sipped on your drink as you made conversation with the man next to you. You really hoped that he wasn't going to make a move, though. That wasn't something you were looking for and people often took your niceness for flirting which made the whole thing awkward.

I wonder how long it will be before I can take her home

Your eyebrows furrowed as the thought that definitely wasn't yours and you realized you were reading the mind of the man who was sitting next to you involuntarily. That had only happened when you were overwhelmed or if you had gotten a few drinks in you so you tried to not go overboard because of that.

And all of a sudden, so many thoughts that weren't yours were flooding your brain, making it ache. And between that and the loud music and the alcohol in your system, you were suddenly feeling overstimulated.

You set your drink down on the bar and clutched yor head with both hands, feeling it pounding, almost as if was going to explode. You didn't know what to do, but what you did know was that you needed to get out of there, and fast.

Logan watched everything unfold from his seat, watching you holding onto your head, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks even from there. And before he could stop himself, he was making a beeline for you, scooping you into his arms before ushering you out of the building.

He was carrying you by the time you got to the door, knowing that you didn't have it in yourself to walk. And he just wanted to get you out of the madness as quick as possible. He had never seen you like that before and hated the feeling he got in his chest watching you struggle like that.

Logan got you out of the club in record speed and set you down, pulling you to his chest, hoping that getting you out of there was actually helpful to your situation. And it was. As soon as you got out into the open air, the voices fled, the pressure in your head slowly dissipating.

He pulled you to his chest as you cried, stroking your hair while his other hand rested on his back. You held onto him so tightly, convinced that if you didn't, he would just disappear. But he wouldn't. Logan would never leave you and he had told you that numerous times when he helped clean up your injuries after a mission.

"You're okay," he murmured into your hair. "I'm here. Just listen to my heart, okay?"

Logan had to admit that he was never good at comforting people, but with you, it was like second nature. He was able to do it so easily, always knowing exactly what you wanted or needed to hear. And he had gotten so good at it that he noticed you seeking him out for advice or help when you needed as opposed to going to the others.

You pulled away to look at him once you had calmed down and he reached up to wipe your tears away, trying to make sure that you were doing okay before leading you to where he parked his car.

"I have some ice cream in my freezer with your name on it," he said as he opened the passenger door for you.

"You know me so well," you smiled as you got into the car. And he did. He knew you better than you knew yourself and you were grateful for that. Someone needed to look out for you and you were just glad that it was always Logan.

[mossheadmandy]

Things to remember and other unpopular opinions about Jonathan Byers:

1. He bites his nails when he's anxious.

2. He decides against wearing neckties because he doesn't know how to tie them. Lonnie was never around to teach him.

3. He was probably an accident.

4. He's too empathetic and patient to make objective decisions.

5. He's thought as a freak not in the same way Eddie is. He's calm, quiet and remains outcasted by choice because, like he told Nancy, he dislikes most people. Eddie, on the other hand, is outcasted against his will, but he likes to be surrounded by friends, he takes care of his sheep because he knows what it's like; he's whimsical and loud, while Jonathan prefers to keep a low profile.

6. Remember when Jonathan beat the shit out of Steve? He knows what people say about him and he doesn't care, but the very moment Steve started to mess with his family, that's when Jonathan reacted and beat his ass. What happened with the Nancy graffiti was probably part of it, but let's remember that he wanted to simply take her out of there peacefully until Steve started to poke at his nerves.

7. During the first season, that one scene where Eleven is in the improvised tank trying to locate Barb and Will, as soon as the lights start to blink, everyone looks up at the lights, but Jonathan keeps an eye on Eleven.

8. He had to become 'the man of the house' at a very young age with Lonnie's absence, and he had to parent both Will and Joyce, in a way.

9. Joyce mentioned that Jonathan was always independent and knew how to take care of himself. Eldest siblings, we know what this means, and please tell me that very statement doesn't break your heart.

10. Jonathan had to deal with a lot at the ripe age of sixteen. Not only did he witness the crumbling of his parents marriage, but also take care of his little brother not as a brother but as a father figure, work to help Joyce make ends meet, deal with the guilt of Will's disappearance because the very night he disappeared, he was out at work, deal with a funeral for his little brother and choose a coffin, and then hunt monsters and witness very gory things, and be constantly on edge due to the government keeping an eye on him and his family plus not knowing when the monsters and any other evils of the Upside-down would be back.

11. I'm sorry but Jonathan Byers is what Steve Harrington fans think Steve is.

12. He's very observant.

13. The OG mixtape maker.

14. He's very family-oriented and his priorities are clear.

15. He's always in disadvantage because of his socio-economic situation, so he has to work extra hard to demonstrate that he's worthy. Probably also, in a way, he felt like he had to clean the last name of the Byers while he was in Hawkins.

16. He's very genuine because he had never felt like he had to impress anybody. Quite the contrary, in fact, given that he dislikes most people, the least thing that he wanted was to have people approaching him.

17. Had not Jonathan seen Steve storming off the bathroom, he would probable have had a new friend. Or potentially a girlfriend. A goth girlfriend.

Remember Samantha, at Tina's party? Jonathan made her laugh. He wasn't used to talk to people, nor did he know how to keep a conversation going, but Samantha looked comfortable, probably found his awkwardness endearing, and they could have kept talking, but then Steve came out of the bathroom, visibly upset and Jonathan knew something was up, and went looking for Nancy.

18. Jonathan took Nancy home because it was the safe thing to do, and also because he likes her. But if you'd really understood the character, you'd know Jonathan would have taken Nancy home even if there was nothing between them because he had always taken care of other people. Jonathan takes care of Nancy because he's an older brother, and Steve never learned about taking other people's feelings into account nor to take care of other people because he's an only child, and didn't learn it from anyone else because in his own words, his father is a major a-hole, so he had no good examples on how to be a decent human being since he was a kid.

20. Jonathan probably lied for Steve's sake. The day after Tina's party, Nancy talked to him and asked him if Steve had asked Jonathan to take her home and he said yes. Then proceeded to reassure her that Steve was only being like that because he cared about her.

Steve didn't ask him to take Nancy home because for starters he was NOT OKAY with him taking her home. He was beyond pissed.

You see, Jonathan knows yet denies himself his own feelings for Nancy because he knows he can't have her, but also because he thinks she's happy with Steve, and her feelings are more important to him than acknowledge his own.

20. Jonathan is just quiet, asocial and introverted, and that's a personality too.

I'm tired of people thinking he's bland just because his personality isn't loud like Eddie's or Steve's, quirky like Robin's, or strong like Nancy's. He isn't that physically strong but he's always willing to fight and aid, and the fact that his support goes unnoticed because it's usually silent upsets me to no end.

21. He could probably see an escape to his old life in Hawkins as soon as he got to Lenora Hills because his last name had no reputation.

22. I coud never say his character got ruined by turning into a stoner because, even if though I'm not celebrating his consumption of weed, I don't condemn it. After everything he's gone through, finding a way to forget about it for a moment is the least thing Jonathan deserves. Which is also the reason I don't understand the Argyle hate. He's the first friend Jonathan has made because he sees him for who he is, and Argyle is wise, gives him good advice and he's always ready to lend a hand.

Jonathan Byers is an extremely underrated character and I'm sick of it.

[differenteagletragedy]

In which Soap's significant other/spouse dies unexpectedly :(

“Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

It was a question Johnny had been asked countless times over the years: in hushed, anxious tones by his mother in visits home, when she still held onto hopes that her son would pick a safer life, and in slurred, almost voyeuristic voices from girls he’d pick up in bars.

And the answer was always no. An easy, thoughtless no, because he wasn’t, not really.

Now, as he stands in front of the mirror of the bedroom you used to share until you were taken from him, he realizes why.

The hard part isn’t in dying. If something were to happen to him on the field, it would likely be quick — a gunshot, an explosion, with no time to think about what it would mean to no longer exist. And even if his last moments were drawn out, there would be an ending to it in sight. A clear cap on whatever suffering there would be.

No, the hard part wasn’t in the idea of leaving this world. It was in being left.

Johnny takes a breath, tugging up the pants of his dress uniform -- the only nice clothes he had, and the ones he'd wear to bury you.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, and the weight of that knowledge threated to drag him down, so hard and heavy that he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry it. After he fell in love with you, really let himself fall and feel it, it broke his heart to know that someday he might die on you. Thoughts of your sweet, beautiful face, crumped and lined with tears when someone told you he'd never be coming home would flicker in his mind during missions sometimes, always unwelcome. They haunted him.

It never even crossed his mind that he'd be the one on the other side.

He shrugs on his jacket, lines still crisp from when he'd hung it up in the back of the closet after moving in with you, and quickly does up the buttons and tugs it into place. He looks at his reflection, but it's all wrong. Who gives a fuck about medals and ribbons and how nicely the seams are pressed when he's never going to hear your laugh again?

But it's not just that, the awkward formality of it all -- his eyes come up to his hair, too. He's always liked the mohawk (obviously he has, or he wouldn't have kept it this long), but seeing it now feels almost shameful in a way that doesn't necessarily make sense but still burns.

He's in the bathroom, decked out his dress blues with clumps of dark hair lining the sink, when Simon comes in.

Johnny barely remembers this -- some plans made at some point in the last week for Simon to come help him with everything. Did he give him a key, has he been locking the door? Ever since he got the news, things have been happening in waves of clarity and a strange foggy dissonance, so he can't be sure what's real, or if it matters.

The deep, familiar tone of Simon's voice as he says his name though ... that feels real. The feeling of his fingers brushing against his chest as he unbuttons his jacket and carefully dusts it off, countless tiny hairs falling to the floor, that's crystal clear.

Johnny's own voice sounds further away, a rush of words coming out that barely registers in his mind. "Feels like a fucking joke," he tells Simon, but what he's talking about, he's not exactly sure.

Simon tells him a number of things, rattling them off in clipped, calm sentences, enough to start to push through the fog, and he doesn't fight it when he takes the clippers from his hand and spins him around, saying something about cleaning him up.

"Just get through the day," his lieutenant tells him over the buzzing. It almost sounds like an order, and Johnny, ever the good soldier, gives an affirmative hum, like it's possible.

When Simon finishes with the clippers, he grabs Johnny's jacket again, holding it out for him to put back on, and when he does, he rebuttons it for him. He systematically goes over the insignia, strong, steady hands making sure everything is in order, and Johnny could almost weep at the small relief of not having to worry about one more thing.

But more than that, Simon's hands feel like an anchor, like a tangible weight holding him to now. There's warmth radiating from his body, and it's not like yours -- he doesn't think he'll ever be able to find a warmth like yours again -- but it's there. It's something, and after days of wallowing in your empty home, smelling your pillow and cradling your clothes and letting himself cry in a way that he hasn't since he was a child, it's a hell of a lot better than nothing.

"You ready?"

Simon's words are phrased like a question, but Johnny picks up on the tone -- another order. It's time.

And he's not ready, not even close. His stomach turns at the thought of seeing your lifeless body laid out in a casket in clothes he picked, and everything in him is screaming, telling him to run, far and fast and hard, from all of this.

But, as always, he's been hardwired to obey his superiors. So instead, he nods.

The funeral is unbearable, but somehow, Johnny bears it. And later, when the grief has settled into an old achy wound instead of bared nerves burning, he'll know that it was because of Simon. Because of his presence beside him, an occasional hand on his shoulder, calloused and sure, that kept him tethered to him when all he wanted to do was float away.

[impishjesters]

Comforting a Scared Child Reader

warning(s): Jax, Caine, and Bubble are warning enough... A/N: These turned into less of a direct comfort and more of a how they'd distract them... sorta... though to be fair it wasn't gonna be very detailed given I had to write everyone... I think if I re-did these properly I'd only do a couple of characters to elaborate on. I don't think Bubble was intended, but I included him because of chaos. Needless to say, I think most of them would kinda suck at comforting a scared child, but they'd definitely put on a strong front to try and comfort them. request: Please can you do some seperate prompts of each circus member and ai comforting a scared child reader?

Pomni

She’s not the ideal person to comfort someone but she knows what it’s like to be new and scared—plus when she finds out you’re only a child??

Pomni tries her best, she really does—it’s like seeing you scared and shaking gives her barely just enough courage to step up and comfort you.

She’s not one for touching but if you need a hug while she’s around she’ll likely give you one.

It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s about as shakey and anxious as a chihuahua, but she tries her hardest to come off as calm and normal for your sake.

Pomni gives off anxious first-time big sister vibes.

Jax

Also not an ideal person when it comes to comfort, but he can only imagine how terrified you are right now.

The others are adults and can handle his bullshit, you however are a child and he’s not about to bully a child. As tempting and funny as the thought is.

Jax uses his jokes—on a less insulting, more child-friendly level—to try and calm you down. When he gets you calmed down and the two of you start to get buddy-buddy? Oh, it’s over for those suckers.

It takes the whole gang to try and prevent Jax from turning you into a mini Jax, though he does let you tag along for the more minor kid-friendly jokes and shenanigans.

"Who the fuck leaves a child unsupervised to put on some weird sketchy headset??"

Jax gives off the cool, prankster big brother vibes.

Gangle

She’s just barely holding it together on a good day, but the moment a child shows up scared and crying? Big sister mode activated.

Gangle’s the type to try and calm you down with stuffed animals or art depending on just how young you are. She’s got all sorts of craft stuff and a collection of stuffed animals, she even lets you pick one out to keep for yourself.

While in big sister mode, she’s a little more protective and worrying, trying to keep you from getting hurt by Caine’s little games or away from Jax’s nasty behaviour.

Unlike Pomni, Gangle likes hugs and is always willing to hug you or hold you if you start to miss home or your parents.

Gangle gives off the protective big sister vibes.

Kinger

Surprisingly, Kinger is the best out of all of them when it comes to taking care of a kid. He’s the quickest to get you to stop crying and the quickest to distract you from those scary thoughts. He’s also the first one to ask for your permission before picking you up with ease.

Out of all of them, he’s the one who watches after you the most—sure it’s a joint effort in babysitting you but he’s the one who watches after you the most.

If you’re particularly young he’ll probably carry you around or hold your hand—even if you could technically walk away with his hand, at least he knows where you are.

Similarly to Gangle, he’ll find something you like and either play with you or talk to you about it. God, if you also have an interest in insects like this man then he’ll tell you all sorts of useless facts and stories, all the gross picture books.

Kinger gives off warm, golden retriever dad energy.

Zooble

Not surprising Zooble isn’t great with kids, and not great with touch either. It’s not they can’t carry you but they’ve only really got one good arm to carry you with and it’s just…awkward for them.

That said if they see you fidgeting or picking at some part of yourself in an anxious-like fashion they’ll offer up their left arm for you to fiddle with. It’s a little more sensor-friendly to fiddle with if you exclude the pointy claw bits, they make sure you don’t hurt yourself. It’s not the most pleasant feeling having their limb messed with, so it doesn’t happen too often.

Zooble doesn’t really do much with you, but if you find yourself wanting to sit with them instead of play with the others they won’t protest. On occasion, they might play with you, or read you a book or whatever as long as it doesn’t involve them doing much.

Zooble gives off relaxed, lazy big sibling energy.

Ragatha

Similar to Gangle she gets her shit together when a child shows up, her chipper optimistic shtick comes in handy when it comes to comfort. She hasn’t had to deal with a child in a really long time though—were they always so…loud?

Ragatha’s the second one who watches after you the most, if she had it her way you’d never be around Jax, he’s a bad influence. But if you like playing with him then the most she can do is stay close by and make sure he doesn’t do or say anything badly. (Man’s gonna give her a heart attack)

Similar to Kinger and Gangle, she’ll play with you and let you join in with Caine’s less dangerous games. She’s nervous to play hide and seek with you but if you really wanna play she’ll set an area limit so that you don’t accidentally get hurt.

Ragatha gives off frantic first-time mother energy.

Caine

Doesn’t know the first fuckin thing about children, well he does but he’s never actually interacted with one.

Thank heaven for the censorship, he doesn’t want that foul language anywhere near your young little ears.

Caine’s the worst person to be left alone with you, not that he’ll be bad to you no, he just won’t understand that while he’s trying to keep you entertained and happy it’s probably a huge safety risk. If the shit the adults experience is dangerous god only knows what he might subject you to by accident.

Despite everything, Caine is actually pretty good at getting you to stop crying. It helps when he can quite literally snap his fingers and poof a random toy you might like or something else he thinks is cool.

Caine gives off crazy Uncle vibes that you only get to see during big family get-togethers because he has a habit of causing trouble on accident.

Bubble

For the love of all that is holy. Do. Not. Leave. The. Child. With. Bubble.

I take back what I said about Caine being the worst to leave you with, Bubble is the worst. Well, they both are but still.

While entertaining (and disturbing) to watch Bubble do stupid stuff, everyone will tell you not to do what he does—or say what he does, in fact just pretend he doesn’t exist. He’s a bad role model.

NO. STOP. DON’T EAT THE SOAP. I DON’T CARE THAT HE SAID IT WAS TASTY. HE CAN’T TASTE. YOUR GONNA TAKE THE WORD OF A LITERAL TALKING BUBBLE?

Bubble is that dumb dog that eats its own vomit because it can, that’s his vibe. Don’t be a Bubble.

[salamander-spark]

My first fanfic! I'm proud of it even if it's a little rushed. I barely managed to get it out within the day. Tomorrow's prompt might just be a drawing.

Day 1:

Hug/Cabin 7/Shapeshifter

Fic below:

TW: very brief depiction of a panic attack, description of nightmare.

It had been a month since Vee's mom and sister came back from the boiling isles.

The stress Vee felt the few days it took for the return was immeasurable. A worry for her family took root in the back of her mind, it made sleep nearly impossible, and gave her nightmares.

Waiting for months, no contact, no words, no way of knowing if they are alive. No magic. She'd be found out, spreding herself too thin with Camila and Luz's responsibilities, inevitably slipping up. People from the town gazing upon her demonic form. The eyes of Belos's monsterous form looming behind everyone. her family, Luz's friends all dead they couldn't stop him THEY COULDN'T COME HOME THEY WERE DEAD HE KILLED THE —

In the present, Vee shook her head to dispel the images her imagination made. She remembers the dreams vividly, still occasionally seeing them in her sleep.

The week following their return, she found the pamphet Masha handed her. Blushing (But NOT because she remembers making a fool of herself in front of them), she decided it was time to take up their offer. 

And it turned out AMAZING, Masha's gradoise flair really fitting the tour guide gig. It was just like back at Cabin seven when They waxed poeticly about the many pagen dieties and what they did. 

Vee kept up with Masha's narration, interjecting questions when she thought of them, keeping the conversation flowing. Vee told Masha about herself, and Masha shared stories about their friends. An aching Vee didn’t realize she had in her heart began to fade talking to her friend after so long, but only slightly.

Masha didn't know that she knew them. For all they knew, they were talking to a complete stranger. The person they talked to couldn't possibly be the shy, anxious girl they shared a cabin with. She couldn't be the friend they helped bring out of her shell, who looked at all things mundane with innocent wonder. She wasn't Luz Noceda.

The insecurity persisted, became even bigger after Masha invited Vee to hang out with their friends. Diego, the tall, relaxed boy who let his hair fall onto his face and probably had a million zits on his forhead. Samantha; or rather Sam, who had a love for video games and anime, and rambled about them to the captivated audience of her friends. 

Neither of them knew her as Vee either. It was awkward, but managable, getting to know them a second time. She noticed that they were each more comfortable in conversation than when they were back at camp. They were all less reluctant to share the information about themselves that took them weeks to share at camp. Vee supposed she was also more confident, staying in a cabin with each other must have been to thank for that.

She didn't know how long she could keep lying to them, for her own sanity.

"Say," Masha began, "What about those kids you were hanging out with? They're your other friends, right?" 

Vee, lying belly down looked up from the Cosmic frontier book she was reading. "Huh? She got so invested in the plot it took her brain a while to process Masha's question. 

"Y'know, at the historical society, right before Halloween," Masha clarified. "You guys asked me about that rebus remember? That one kid was going on like, 'Grahh chop off my ear' or something," Masha giggled. 

Oh. Luz's friends. Vee knew the witches also considered her part of the group, but it was easier thinking of them as her sister's friend group.

Wait... They didn't have a proper cover story! Vee was terrible at lying on the fly, but she needed to start talking now!

"O- OH YEAH, that was Gus. H-hes pretty fun. Then theres uhhh, Amity with the pink hair, Willow had glasses, and... oh yeah Hunter too but he was at our home that day." Vee needed to stall so she could come up with something.

"Is he The Blond cosmic frontier fan?" Masha asked, which confused Vee.

"When did you see him? I don't remember him going to your job after we left."

"No, I actually saw them at the haunted hayride! oh, I guess I only told you two-" Masha points two fingers at Sam and Diego respectively "-about that since you weren't hanging out with us back then. Whoops~"

Suddenly, Diego piped up. "Wait, you said 'Our' Home. So they like, live at your place or something"  

CRAP!

"Uhhhh well... you see." Think of something Vee, just spit it out. "Foreign excange students?" she thought out loud. "-From out of state not another country!" she amended in a panic.

"O–kay?" Sam raised her eyebrow "I've never seen them at school before, and you know I watch people like a hawk." It was true, back at camp, Sam compiled a list of the campers from other cabins activities in order to know who to watch out for. 

It wasn't a skill she thought would be used agsinst her.

"Well, There are other schools in the area you know? I think they went to, yknow..." She didn't know the names of any other high schools. "...Not Gravesfield high?" She finished with a shrug. And also, they went back to their own rea-" DONT SAY REALM "TOWN like, right after Halloween, so yeah, that's why you've never seen 'em" She finished with a shrug and a manic chuckle.

How did she keep this up for thee months straight? She must've lost her touch. Then again, she considered not having to lie as a good thing.

"Sure, I'll accept that." Sam relented.

"Hold up, am I missing something, or does that like. Not make sense." Diego once again came in with his terribly timed questions. "Cause like, you said they lived in your house, why wouldn't they go to the same school?" How is he so perceptive!? It must be because he doesn't devote much energy into responding so he can listen better.

Masha put a hand on her shoulder "Hey, sorry about him Vee, if theres something you don't want to tell us, you don't have to." assured Masha. "We didn't mean to push so far." Masha turns toward the offender, "Diego." They enunciate.

Vee didn't her most of what Masha said. Where Masha tried to reassure her, Vee only heard an accusation. 'something you don't want to tell us' sounded more like 'You're hiding something, aren't you Vee.' And what did that last part mean? Could they tell she was panicking? WHY DID THEY SOUND ANGRY?

They'reGoingToForce AnswersOutOfmeNobodyTrustsMe-

Everything turned blurry, she was hyper aware of all the sounds of the room closing in on her. Her heartbeat was in her ears, everyones voices blended into a cocophony She needed to get away She's clammy and very sweaty-

It's queit, what changed, is there still danger?

She heard breathing, not her own, someone elses, not her own, and it makes her realize how quick she's breathing. She tries to slow down, matching the pace of the other person. 

When she finally steadied herself (it felt like several minutes but also less than one) She opened her eyes (They were closed?) and sees Masha sitting on her knees on the bed in front of her (She doesn't remember getting into this corner). They continued to demonstrate the breathing exercise, which they also did with their hands.

Vee thinks she remembers something like this happening at camp, but isn't sure right now. Masha gestured their hands out wide, clearly asking if it was okay if they could give a hug. 

You don't deserve one, her brain tells her. No, she shakes her hehead.

Masha sits with her, and they both breath. Such a simple act, filled with so much understanding. You doesn't deserve Masha. 

She's now aware enough to know how mean she's being to herself. She spots her other friends sitting in the middle of the room, Dego on the floor while Samantha sits in the desk chair. She gives a meek wave and they wave back without keeping eye contact. They look ashamed, Masha must've given them a talking to.

"Hi guys, sorry you had to see that," she knew she shouldn't be apologizing, but this whole situation never would've happened if she was truthful from the beginning. 

"No Vee, this wasn't your fault." Says Masha

Sam adds in "We're sorry. Diego said he should've realised before he asked that. And I'm sorry for getting so uptight about answers." Sam makes eye contact at the end, though it almost looks like she's scrutinizing Vee's face-

-She spins to look at the mirror and sees a splotchy mess of skin on her face. One could confuse it for vitiligo -a skin condition she learned some humans have- if not for the fact her face was previously a single solid shade of brown. 

Her hair is now completely blue, and a bit shorter, exposing her ears in their full glory. They must've been flapping like crazy during her panic attack.

Her sclera was blue, and took on the glossy sheen of an amphibious creature. 

None of those are human traits.

Her head snaps back towards Masha, cringing while waiting for a reaction.

"So..." They began. "I um. I like your ears?" They clerly want to say more, but refrains to be polite. "Once again, I don't wanna force you to answer. I've just got a lotta theories in my noggin right now and I would like to know the truth. But again, no pressure. Whetever the truth is, I'll try not to react badly." They finished by putting their hands up and smiling. 

Both looked at their friends who nodded. "Hey I'm cool with you being a shape-changing spirit, or some cryptid, or whatever you are. Again, I'm sorry." Sam smiles.

Diego nods and says "Ditto, what she said."

"And if you're not ready right now, we trust you. We just want you to be comfortable with us. You can talk later

Now was the time to come clean to her friends. It wasn't because she was backed into a corner. They let her keep her secrets if she really needed too.

Her eyes tear up, and the tears wetted her cheek. They trust her.

Hopefully they stayed true to their words. Here goes nothing.

"Um, Let me tell you about a place called the Boiling Isles"

She shapeshifts into her true skin for the first time in their presence.

Sam fellbackwards off her chair while Diego simply said "woah." After squeaking in a high pitch, Masha just stared, taking in the details of her true for  from her tail to her hair.

She could’ve eased the group in better, could've given them a better idea of what to expect. But flowery speeches were Luz’s deal, and Vee wanted to rip off the bandaid.

She hoped they  would share Mom and Luz's opinions on how non-threatening she looked. Masha looked far from disgusted at least, but she had no idea what was on Diego's mind.

Sam lifted her chair to defend herself, before realizing how it looked and set it down. Vee only now remembered Sam has a fear of snakes, Ophidiophobia if she's correct. 

She considered apologizing, but decided against it, given this whole thing was mostly Sam's fault. She could be petty, she deserves it. She's definitely getting around to it later though.

they let her explain herself in full, with no interruptions. She told them about the titan, demon and witches. She wasn't quite ready to tell them how she was born, but she told them she pretended to be Luz for the summer.

Everyone's eyes grew wide at the admission, and it looked like they had something to say. Then they looked in her eyes and she gave a look that said she never wanted to hurt them.

She didn't expect them to start joking around so quickly after several earth shattering revelations, but she could tell that they wanted to lighten the mood before discussing them.

They were also being super frustrating about the cute comments.

“I'm not cute. Luz calls everything cute, like. Possums, for one.” She scrunches her face, “and she didn't even bat an eye at a bunch of talking rats!” 

“Your face looks like a cat,” says Diego, his mouth curved in an uncharacteristicly mischievous grin. “But like, a bald cat that fell in a can of green paint.” He teases. 

"Hey, you up for that hug yet, Vee?" Masha smiled that pretty gap toothed smile, and Vee felt her resolve shatter. 

"Y'know what? yeah. I could use one." Vee agreed.

"Want to make it four?" They asked, to which Vee nodded.

Vee tightly hugged Masha, and they embraced. With Vees hace in the crook of their neck, she wrapped her tail around Diego who had moved behind her. "Sweet" he simply remarked.

Masha looked at where Sam sat crisscrosed, hand hovering over Vee's tail hesitsntly. "Hey, you know she's not slimy, right?" Masha indignantly asked. "She's also warmer than I expected, she barely even feels like a snake. More like what I imagine a dragon would be like." Masha blinked "Can you turn into a dragon?" Masha almost shouted.

Vee shrugged, Sam insisted "But do I have to?"

"Yeah, get over here dummy!" Vee wrapps the end of her tail around Sam's midsection. Vee thinks she looks a bit pale.

"Geez it must be 'everybody bully Sam hour' today! Really, I'm still sorry," Sam defends. 

"You were a jerk, you owe me something expensive!"

Diego and Masha laughed at Sams expression, Vee leans deeper into Masha's hug. 

"You okay Vee-Vee?" masha softly asks.

"Yeah," Vee looks around at her friends. getting an idea.

"Cabin seven!"

"HOO HAA HAA!" chorused four voices

"I love you guys." whispered the shapeshifter amongst her closest friends.

[lvdr-haze]

SEE YOU TOMORROW !

help this fic is so bad but you wanted me to post it so here it is !!

i mostly imagined young Joost (ytb era) while writing this but feel free to imagine nowadays Joost

tw: alcohol

pure fluff !!

1 118 words

You just moved to Amsterdam and felt really good in this place even though you found it hard to learn Dutch.

You found a little job in a bakery in the center of the city. It was really nice; people were always so sweet, the ambiance of the bakery was always good, and you had a great relationship with your coworkers.

Joost and his friend Stuntje were regular customers. They came every morning to get their coffee and a little something to nibble on to start their day. You found them very cute, always patient and smiling.

However, over the weeks, you noticed that Joost never ordered for himself; Stuntje always did it for him. You also noticed that when Joost greeted you or talked with his friend, he spoke in a very low, barely audible tone. You thought it was a bit strange, but he must just be shy.

One day, after a long day at work, your friend Eli suggested going out for a drink in a city bar to have some fun, and you accepted.

Once you were ready, you went to join your friend and headed to the bar.

When you arrived, you ordered your drinks and sat outside on the terrace. It was a warm day.

As you sat down, you heard a voice say, "Hey Joost, look, it's the girl from the bakery! You should go talk to her; it's your chance!" You looked over to their table and saw Stuntje and Joost. The blonde looked really embarrassed and barely dared to look at you. You waved to them before resuming your conversation with Eli.

The evening continued, and you had drank a bit as did Joost, who was now approaching you. You smiled at him as he handed you his phone and asked in a soft, low voice, "Could I have your Insta?"

You nodded, still smiling. "Sure!"

You typed in your Instagram handle and handed back his phone before he left the bar to go home. A few minutes later, his friend Stuntje came over to talk to you about Joost.

"I was the one who pushed him to ask for your Insta. You know, Joost is really reserved... He'll probably explain why when the time comes, but in any case, don't hesitate to start the conversation; I'm afraid he won't do it himself."

You thanked Stuntje for his explanation before he also went home, and you didn't wait long to do the same as it was getting late.

Once you were home, showered, and in your pajamas, you slipped into bed and decided to send Joost a message.

@y/nusername

Hey Joost! I hope you got home safe :)

He replied almost immediately, which surprised you but was also very sweet.

@joostklein

I got home safe, thank you! I'm really sorry for asking for your Insta like that earlier... Did it bother you? Did you find it awkward?

@y/nusername

Don't apologize, it was adorable. Please don't ever hesitate to talk to me; you seem so sweet

That night, you talked with Joost for several hours before falling asleep.

The next day at work, Joost greeted you with a bit more ease, but he still wasn't completely comfortable. You wondered what he was afraid of, why he was so anxious about opening up to the world, but after all, it wasn't really your business.

Several days passed. You talked a lot with Joost on social media but almost never in real life. However, you were getting very attached to him; he was very sweet, funny, cute, and respectful.

@joostklein

Hey y/n!! I'm having a little party at my place and I'd like to know if you'd like to come?

You smiled at the notification and replied immediately. You had the day off tomorrow, so you could afford this outing.

@y/nusername

Yeah, of course!! I wouldn't miss it!

He gave you the time and address, and you started getting ready. You didn't know why, but you felt the need to look nice; you wanted him to find you beautiful.

When you arrived, you were greeted by Joost, who immediately complimented your outfit timidly, making you blush before you did the same for him. He let you in and introduced you to his friends before offering you a drink. You said you'd have a beer and followed him to the kitchen to get your drink.

He didn't really dare to talk; he was very stressed, which you could see from his demeanor.

"Hey Joost, everything's fine, no need to be stressed, everything is chill! I'm really happy you invited me, thank you!"

He looked at you with bright eyes before smiling, revealing his dimples, which made your heart beat a little faster. He handed you your beer.

"Thanks for reassuring me... and thanks for coming..."

You both went to the living room to join Joost's friends. The evening was very nice; everyone had a bit to drink, and Joost seemed less shy.

While you were in the garden to get some fresh air, someone sat next to you. It was Joost. You smiled at him before asking how he was feeling.

"I feel good... I'm glad you're here..."

When he talked to you, he never looked you in the eyes. You finally gathered the courage to ask, "Tell me... why are you so shy about talking or interacting in public?"

You saw his expression change; he seemed a bit sadder. You felt bad for asking the question and were about to apologize, but Joost interrupted you.

"I was bullied in school for who I was. I never had many friends... and then, um... my parents passed away, so I closed myself off a lot... I've always been alone... I... I don't really know how to handle it... Sorry if it's annoying."

You felt your heart tighten, and you hugged him, apologizing and telling him how much he deserved better.

"You're an amazing person, Joost, never doubt yourself!"

It was getting late, and you decided to leave. Joost walked you to the door, and you thanked him for hosting.

"No problem... And also, I wanted to know if, um... you know, maybe you'd like to go out tomorrow? I mean, you don't have to, of course, and, um... feel free to say no."

"I'd love to! Thanks again for tonight."

You turned to leave but then turned back, took Joost's face in your hands, and kissed him with all the tenderness in the world. He was very surprised at first but couldn't help but kiss you back. When the kiss ended, Joost looked at you with bright eyes, a smile on his lips, and red cheeks.

"See you tomorrow!"

You said before leaving.

———

guys should I write a part two a little better ?

[ddejavvu]

ok but whos gonna talk about hotchy boy being all ☹️☹️☹️☹️ when reader does not talk to him just some misunderstanding where they are not in a committed relationship but everyone just knows they have a thing for one another i just wanna hear aaron say “are you mad at me? did i do something? i am a sucker for soft aaron for ONE PERSON his person!!!

Hotch is socially awkward. He can mask it with indifference or professionality, he can manage to assimilate when he's in familiar situations, but now he sticks out like a sore thumb.

He's standing in the doorway of the precinct's kitchen, waiting. Waiting for you to acknowledge him, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to preemptively forgive his apology, waiting for something.

In turn, you're trying very hard not to do any of those things. You're not fond of being reprimanded, especially not for something you didn't do. So when Aaron had snapped at you in front of local officers for being distracted by your phone on a case, and you were only texting back and forth with Morgan about the second crime scene, you'd been annoyed.

You know that it's his job to keep everyone in line, and if he'd been right about you slacking off, you'd have taken the fall. But all he'd done was obstruct you from your job, and embarrass you to boot. So call it petty, but you're trying to avoid even looking at the man if you don't have to.

Thankfully, the precinct's kitchen is against a wall, not in a separate room. It means there's ample space to slip around Aaron and go back to your desk without having to ask him to move.

You're only a few steps behind him when you hear his voice call out after you, "Y/N?"

You try not to stop to abruptly in your tracks, but you turn to him with a politely interested look on your face.

"Yes, sir?"

His jaw shifts at the title, "Are you mad at me?"

You're a little stunned by the question. It sounds like something a child asks their mother, standing by the edge of her bed and asking why she'd rather sleep than play. It certainly doesn't sound like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, the 6'1 man who commands respect in any room he enters.

"What?" Is all you can muster in response.

"Are you..." He repeats, eyes anxious as they stare into your own, "Are you upset with me? Did I do something?"

Now you feel like a child. Embarrassment burns hot at your cheeks, and you chew on the inside of one as you debate telling him that your feelings are hurt because he embarrassed you.

"Nothing," You shake your head, gripping your coffee mug tighter, "You didn't do anything. Don't worry about it. I'm just tired."

Now he's analyzing you, head tilted curiously.

"That's... the oldest excuse in the book," His tone almost sounds sympathetic, like he's pitying you for your terrible lie. "Please tell me if I need to apologize for something."

"It's not-" You rush out, running a tired hand over your face, "It's dumb. Let's just focus on the case, we can talk later."

"I want to talk now," He pushes cautiously, stepping closer to you, "I won't be able to focus on this case until we resolve this."

You try not to think too hard about that, about the fact that his personal relationship with you means more to him than his work.

"It really is dumb," You laugh, but it's a humorless sound, "But earlier, I- I wasn't just slacking off, Hotch. You snapped at me in front of all of those officers, and I was just swapping pictures with Morgan of different missing persons files. I wasn't, like, playing a game or something. I'm not an irresponsible employee."

His face has fallen into something just short of despair. He's calculating the effect of his outburst, knowing now that the local officers probably trust you less, or ridicule you in private for being too absorbed in whatever online presence they think you were updating.

"I'm sorry," He says earnestly, and his chest caves in slightly with how sincere it is, "I should have known you weren't messing around. I hadn't considered that you were talking to one of us, we usually call each other. But I understand - that's no excuse. I shouldn't have reprimanded you, especially not in front of everyone."

Slowly, the more he speaks, his words disarm that little ticking time bomb of pettiness in your chest until its spark fizzles out completely. You're relieved to have closure on the incident, but it doesn't fix everything.

Hotch will, though.

"I'll let you deliver the profile." He decides, in the absence of your response, "And a press conference, if we need one. Give you back any authority I stripped of you back there. I... I really am sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay," You finally give in, shoulders slumping from how stiff they'd been around your neck, "I know this is a particularly stressful case. And it's your job to boss us around."

He offers you a small laugh at that, a soft exhale through his nose paired with something that you could perceive as a smile.

"I just wish it had gone differently."

"Me too," He nods, guilt still trailing after his words, clinging onto him no matter how much he tries shaking it off, "If anyone says anything, or avoids letting you work on something important, let me know."

"I will." You nod, "Thank you, Hotch."

"Thank you," He looks like he wants to surge forwards, and you'll admit that you wouldn't mind a make-up hug. Nevertheless, he keeps himself in check, tugging lightly on his suit jacket to readjust it over his chest, "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me I'd made a mistake."

"Oh I'll tell you," You tease, and his eyes dance with laughter he contains behind a soft smile aimed at the floor, "Mark my words, Hotch, you'll know if you mess up."

[strangertheories]

I've been seeing people saying that platonic Stobin is only benefitting Steve or that Robin only exists to redeem Steve from past homophobia and I'd like to politely disagree. I don't think enough people realise just how crucial their friendship was to Robin's character development outside of Steve, so I'll just spell it out here in this long post for the four year anniversary of Robin coming out to Steve.

At the start of S3, Robin is deeply sarcastic and jokingly rude, but this is not entirely what she is actually like deep down and the true Robin doesn't emerge until her and Steve are talking to each other in the bunker. She says that she acts like she doesn't care and that she floats above it all (in reference to popularity) but deep down, she just wants to feel normal and accepted.

But Robin knows she could never be accepted fully because of her attraction to women. If she acts like she doesn't care and holds Steve at an arm's length, it keeps her safe. Robin can't be rejected if she doesn't let him in. She doesn't believe anyone could ever be friends with her if they knew her secrets, so constructs this personality around herself, however deep down she is just insecure and struggling with internalised homophobia.

A lot of people talk about Robin's coming out scene, rightfully so, but I think we need to talk more about what happened before. When Steve tells Robin he's attracted to her, she looks devastated. With her guard let down after a near death experience and drugs, she was finally able to bond with someone who she now has to reject.

At first, she tries to talk Steve out of liking her. She tells him that he doesn't know the real her and that if he did, not only would be not want to date her, but he wouldn't even want to be her friend. This is where it all becomes clear that Robin's sarcasm and refusal to let her guard down is not linked to her sexuality but rather because of it.

This is why Steve accepting her is so crucial for her character from then onwards. For the first time in her life, Robin let someone see her true self, knowing that she would be rejected and lose her only friend. And yet she wasn't. Robin let Steve in and his acceptance finally enabled her to realise that just because she is gay it doesn't mean that she's abnormal or could never be happy. Obviously, there are safety concerns that prevent her from running through the streets of Hawkins with a pride flag, but I believe this acceptance is crucial to the version of Robin we see in S4.

After S4, there were a lot of complaints that the Robin we saw in that season wasn't like S3 enough and felt like a completely different character. Firstly, Robin was shown to speed talk, be unhelpful and miss social ques when nervous in the final episode of season 3, so I disagree with that criticism. But most importantly, the reason that S4 Robin is different to the one in S3 is because S3 Robin was never real. It was a character she built in order to avoid dealing with the pain of rejection or accepting that she cares about what other people think of her. But due to Steve, Robin is able to realise that she doesn't have to be someone else, hence her personality shift.

That's also kind of why I dislike the idea that her relationships with Nancy and Vickie are better than her one with Steve because she wouldn't have had those relationships if it wasn't for him. Steve enabled her to open up and let down her cool and sarcastic persona. Robin is anxious and awkward with Nancy and Vickie from the get go unlike with Steve, which ends up enabling her to ultimately make more real bonds with them much quicker. She would not have been able to do that if it wasn't for the value his acceptance brought into her life.

I'm going to get a bit mushy and personal here, so feel free to skip to the end, but platonic Stobin isn't just meaningful to the fictional character of Robin. I'm an autistic lesbian and I have had a lot of struggles with making and maintaining friendships. For a while, I didn't have any friends at all and I was very depressed. But now my mental health is so much better because I was able to find a friend who fully accepted me, who I didn't have to mask around, who I easily came out to. Becoming friends with her has enabled me to become way more comfortable with unmasking my autism outside of that one relationship because being more vulnerable is what enabled that friendship to be so much better in the long term.

Robin is a character I relate to a lot, and I've written a lot of posts on autistic Robin in the past. I think seeing friendships portrayed on screen where a girl is able to let down her mask, learn to become herself and become much less distant to the point that she explicitly feels comfortable telling someone she has issues with social ques is great for all kids. So many people, especially autistic people, struggle with being themselves and with finding friends. Maybe Robin did just exist to redeem Steve or whatever, but I know seeing that friendship on screen meant a lot to me. It's so difficult to find someone who accepts you and to open up to someone, but I think that platonic Stobin shows that it can be worth it.

Sorry for the mushy side tangent at the end, but I hope this post explains the importance of Steve's acceptance to Robin's character development. Acting like she only exists for Steve is dismissive of the impact that friendship had on the development Robin has and will have, especially if you view Rebel Robin as being somewhat canon. Not to mention, clarifying a loveable character is no longer homophobic feels like a pretty good thing.

[kale-of-the-forbidden-cities]

Della Vacker post

I made this doodle of her while i was supposed to be working on artfight refs, but not to worry! i finished those just in time today :>

notice the Vacker registry pendant and prime sources chain. Notice how anxious she looks!

and now for the playlist which will make more sense after you've read the headcanons. You don't have to think it's perfect or in character, that's okay, it's just stuff i came up with

and now under the cut is my 15 page google doc thoughts of Della Vacker, from when she started dating Alden to Legacy-ish?? warning i think they get worse as they go, don't focus on the stuff after book 1 time, i'm not sure if i like it as much as i do the other as far as writing and wording goes and stuff

if you do take the time to read this, comment on it as much as you want!!! it feels good when people point out specific parts hehe

TW: mentions of eating disorders and ~uncomfortable age gaps~

Alden and Della had sort of an arranged marriage, with Alden on Della's match lists when she was sixteen, and her parents saw and were delighted to see a Vacker as her number one, but Della tried to argue, saying he’s a hundred years older, but by the time Alden got his next list she was nineteen and invited to his Winnowing Gala. Della was standing among all these girls who were mostly at least 30 years older than her, and she was terrified. She didn’t feel good enough to be there. She felt out of place. But Alden’s parents seemed to really like her, though she couldn’t tell if that was because they actually did or if it was just because she and Alden were each other’s top matches. She felt super weird about it, and he felt weird about it too, but despite the age gap, they were kind of pressured into getting together. 

And at first it was sooooooo awkward. They didn’t feel comfortable around each other, and Della still felt like a kid next to him. Not to mention the sheer perfection of him, and the other Vackers. This is where some other headcanons start coming in, with Della not feeling perfect enough, and she began to develop an eating disorder. 

This whole thing is so stressful for her, but her parents are happy, and Alden seems happy, who is she to ruin it? She was once an enjoyer of gossip, but now she's part of it, there were speculations about her from the very first date with alden, and she's not used to it! She's not used to being in the spotlight! 

Della: (surprised) I'm... I'm in the news? 

Alden: Oh... Yes, that happens. 

Della: ... But I only just started dating you- is- is that even public yet? 

Alden: No, but we did go out yesterday... 

Della: ... but I'm not a Vacker... I can't... (trails off) 

Alden: ...

Della goes for a walk in Atlantis and feels everyone watching her, and she can't take it, she feels like she's crumbling under the pressure (even though not that many people were actually looking or saying or thinking anything bad, but she saw a few people glance her way, someone pointed at her and whispered) and she breaks down, tears start to well up, and she tries to get somewhere to be alone, but it's Atlantis, she can't just leap away, she has to go back the way she came, and she's crying and she can't breathe and people are really staring now and really talking about her and someone tries to come help but she doesn't think that's what they're there to do, she runs away, she's running through crowded streets until she finally makes it out, and once her bubble thing lets her go she sits on the ground and sobs.

And of course people saw this whole thing, and they were talking about her all over again, but this time it wasn't just speculation about her relationship with Alden, this time it was people saying she wasn't fit to be a Vacker, that she was unstable and unpredictable and mentally ill for... crying? Well then, she can't let anyone see her cry ever again.

And at some points she wishes Alden would leave her or break up with her or something but after the stories and stuff about her were published he just hailed her and asked if she was okay. And this was before she'd read them. He seemed to care about her, and Della just thinks she's bringing shame on him, but he assures her that she isn't, and it's okay, and that it will blow over and that there's no reason to worry.

She becomes very familiar with that phrase, and learns to take it to heart. She's okay. He's okay. Everything is okay. even when she feels like dying, even when she realizes she hasn't eaten in three days and almost passes out in public and she feels terrified whenever she goes out with him and everything feels like too much and goddamnit why won't he leave her what does he still see in her why couldn't she have just enjoyed her after-foxfire years normally why why why???

But then as Alden cares for her and he doesn't leave her and he smiles for real, his smile is so unlike all the pictures she's seen, it's so soft and small and hesitant and his eyes look so gentle and happy and oh prime sources, after three years she's really falling for him and oh no this is awful, she feels so conflicted. She wanted him to leave her but now she doesn't want to leave him. 

After four years they finally share their first kiss, and it's... real. 

It's by no means a long kiss, but it feels like forever, time slows as thoughts race through Della’s mind and she thinks oh no. And then they pull apart, and she's tearing up, and mentally beating herself up for it, which only makes her need to cry more, and she can't breathe but Alden doesn't seem to get it, he's confused, he looks hurt, he asks whats wrong, so she chokes it down and tells him she's okay, just... really happy. I get emotional, she says with a forced laugh. 

And she accepts her fate. 

She’s trapped. 

Unless Alden ever has a sudden change of heart, she can't go anywhere.

Della was raised religious, but it wasn't nearly as strict as the Vackers. That's another thing she has to get used to - she has to carefully learn every ritual, all the history she might need to know, she doesn't want them to think she's not good enough. She has to fit into this family, and if she's a square in a circle hole, then she'll just have to cut off her own corners to fit. 

She didn't really expect it to go this long - she had three boyfriends when she was in Foxfire, but they all went by super fast, obviously. And they were never serious. But Alden was serious. Her parents wanted her to be serious. the Vackers were serious. 

Alden and Della obviously took things very very slowly, mostly due to the age gap and how uncomfortable they used to be around each other. They'd kissed twice after five years of dating, and it still feels so... new. They're careful in public, Della isn't herself anymore. She used to be so much happier. Now she's an empty shell, and sometimes life doesn't feel worth living.... but she's okay, she's okay, she's okay. There’s no reason to worry. Everything is perfect! She learns how to force a smile when people begin speculating about her mental health again... and she's not eating. She doesn't feel perfect enough. She hates her body, her face, her hair, she hates how ugly she feels standing next to Alden, her boyfriend, though that word feels wrong on her tongue. Even after a decade, she still messes up, says the wrong things and gets weird looks and she feels like the world could swallow her up, she could get murdered and it would be her fault.

Alden of course notices this, because, duh, he's not blind, but he doesn't know what to do. He waits for a few months, trying to let it pass because he's not good with words and... maybe if he pretends she's okay, she'll be okay. he just has to believe it and treat her as he has been - he does care, he just doesn't know what to do. He's trying to believe, but it's getting so hard to pretend because oh god she just collapsed in the middle of the room and she's not waking up and he's not very strong but he can pick her up easily and take her to the couch and he sits by her as he waits for a physician and he's trying so hard not to cry, but maybe she's worth crying over, he's so scared for her. Pretending everything was okay wasn't what she needed at all. He should have done something.

Della obviously ends up fine, but she doesn't talk to Alden about it. He apologizes and asks if she's okay, and she assures him he is, she says sorry, she promises to do better.

And she’s okay. 

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to eat. 

To prove she’s okay. 

She even hides the scale from herself for a few months. She's okay.

Well, now that she knows her limits she can be even better than before. 

Time flies by, and Alden and Della are closer than ever. They're not as close as the average couple that has been dating for a year, even though they've been together for ten, twenty, thirty. They love and care about each other, but there's.... something. Della gets better! She makes friends with some of Alden's friends, Grady and Edaline. They're also much older than her, but she's older now, too, so age shouldn't matter like it did when she was nineteen. Still, she feels the need to be polite in the same way she is to Alden's family. Despite that, it's... nice to be around them. To have conversations with Edaline while Alden is out, to have friends! She hasn't had those since the world started to judge her! Nobody wanted to be caught up in that kind of drama. She meets Edaline's sister, and they get along even better! Until she runs into her in the street and they talk for a while, and then the next day there's a picture of them in the news! Juline is a bad match, how could Della forget how could she mess up so badly how could she be so selfish to want anything for herself, how could she have slipped up like that!!!

She apologizes to Alden as soon as she sees him, then stops talking to Juline. Edaline has seen the article, and while this kind of thing doesn't matter to her, she understands why it would matter to Della. She's observant. She can tell that Della isn't okay. She and Juline talk, and they agree to let her go without asking questions. She clearly doesn't need more stress. Della is anxious to talk to Grady and Edaline for a bit after that, but when she does, they don't even bring up her suddenly cutting Juline off. Della wonders if she should bring it up, but she doesn't want to start trouble. So she pretends everything is fine and resists the urge to ask Eda how her sister is doing. 

This would be the time where Della would start visiting the Forbidden Cities and learning how to defend herself - going to the human world is freeing, but it comes with its risks. She's cautious not to get caught, and she's careful not to get hurt while she's there. In the Forbidden Cities, nobody knows her. She learns both how to hold her Vanishing for a long time, but also how to resist the light passing through her with each step she takes. Humans definitely don't blink in and out of sight as they walk. She learns a human language (in my headcanon it's Spanish, which she later teaches to her kids, while Alden teaches them English). She’s interested in human culture.

Luzia gifts Everglen to Alden, and he has it rebuilt, because the pressure to make things permanent with Della is starting to grow - he's been in relationships before, and they've all gone by so fast compared to this one. He feels differently about Della, he's actually gotten to know her, he thinks he's seen her at her worst. Della hears the whispers about marriage and gets terrified. She could really be Radelle Vacker. It's not the name she tried on at thirteen, fantasizing about marrying into the family, just for fun. It's an actual possibility.

Della had been living in an apartment since her twenties, she never felt like she could handle getting attached to a house the way most elves do. Besides, she liked the limited space - there was less to do with it, less options, but so many ways to decorate and make it hers. Unlike everything else in her life. Just because she appreciates beauty and fancy things, well, it doesn't have to be big to be beautiful. That was her place of peace. But then... Alden suggested she move into Everglen with him, after it gets rebuilt. And how could she say no? She can't. She hasn't said no to Alden once in all these decades. Not like he was too sure of what to do, either. Their relationship was the best pace it could have been for the two of them. And so Della moves into Everglen, and... gives up her apartment. And Everglen is big. It makes her feel small and anxious. But she'll get used to it. One time she had to cross the house to get a cup of water in the middle of the night - it was so eerie. She kept a cup by her bed from then on.

Another thing she gave up was her trips to the Forbidden Cities. She still wanted to go, and definitely could have, but she just stopped being able to find the time to visit as frequently, and eventually stopped going altogether. 

Now that they were living together, of course, people found out and started saying things and making more assumptions about Alden and Della's relationship, things that Della did not even feel nearly ready for - and they're not even married! They don't even share a room, let alone a bed! She feels kind of gross when she thinks about it for too long. but she's okay. She's getting good at this.

Until, to "celebrate" or whatever, Alden's parents suggest a family gathering at Everglen. Of course, Della is there. She already felt uncomfortable around Alden's parents, so she didn't expect it to go that well, but she wasn't expecting the sheer number of fancy intimidating and perfect Vackers that were there - she felt like scum next to them. And with the way some of them looked at her, she might as well have been. She made herself eat so they wouldn't go making assumptions about her health or mental well being, but after dinner, she excused herself and threw it all up in the bathroom. It wasn't even on purpose, she just felt that nauseous. She couldn't stay away for too long, though, because this was Alden's house, and being Alden's girlfriend, she'd surely be missed. So she gathers herself and returns for dessert, which she isn't able to stomach much of. She didn't notice until that night, but Alden seems so... stiff. And unnatural. Around the rest of his family. He's smiling, but that's not his smile. Della knows his smile! And she starts to wonder if Alden ever feels like she does. Despite how much he truly seems to belong here. Unlike she does.... she's not good enough.

And then Alden stands up and says he'd like to announce something, and he talks for a bit, then he mentions Della and she's forced to focus and listen and she doesn't even remember what he said, just that he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at his parents, while talking about her, and then he reached into his cape and turned around and kneeled down and

“Della, will you marry me?” 

And she freezes up and everything stops and her heart pounds in her ears and she feels like she might throw up again and then she chokes up and looks Alden in the eyes and the tears come before she can stop them, but she doesn't stop them because.... people cry at proposals all the time. It's normal. It's... an emotional moment. That's why she's crying. She's just. so. happy.

So she covers her mouth with her hands and says what she knows she has to say.

“Yes.” 

Except it's muffled and squeaky and choked so she nods to get her point across, she slowly stands up and steps towards Alden, and something in his eyes changes as he wraps his arms around her. Understanding, maybe? He's just as trapped as she is, isn’t he?

She cries into his chest, but they're definitely not happy tears. She can force a smile and pretend they are, but that doesn't make it any better. For a moment all she hears is herself sobbing and Alden's heartbeat, pounding much too hard for someone who could be truly at peace. Then the applause starts, and she cries harder, making herself feel even sicker. But this is the first time she's let tears fall in - no, has it really been a year? Has it been more? Less? She doesn't know. But it's been a while. And it's all coming out at once and the rush of hands clapping is taking over but she has to breathe. breathe. breathe. Alden rubs her back, and she focuses on that, she focuses on his smell.

And she breathes. 

In, out. 

She’s okay. 

She’s crying, but she’s happy, right? 

How could she be anything but happy? 

She’s… engaged. 

To Alden Vacker. 

So many people would give anything for this. People would crash weddings for a chance at marrying Alden Vacker. The world envies her. She even loves Alden! And she knows she does!

So why isn’t she happy??? 

Where’s the feeling she’s been missing for so long? 

She stands by the door as the Vackers leave, squeezing Alden's hand as she nods and smiles at each of the Vackers leaving. She's never even seen most of them. She recognizes Alden's parents, and of course Luzia Vacker, Fallon Vacker, Orem Vacker, and a few others she's read about in elvin history. She really is a part of them now.

But she doesn’t feel good enough. 

Her smile falls as soon as the last ones leave, and Alden isn't looking at her, and they need to talk about what to do, they need to talk about what happened, they need to celebrate, they need to...

Alden speaks up first. 

And he says,

“I’m sorry.” 

And he walks away. 

Della stares after him, feeling the light pass through her. She doesn't know how to feel. Alden just apologized... for proposing to her? She should feel hurt, but... she gets it. She's sorry, too.

She goes back over to the table to clean up all the plates left there, with the intent of getting her mind off of things, but... it's a giant table. It's overwhelming. She sits down and takes a half empty glass of wine that isn't even hers. She takes a deep breath and releases it in a long, slow, sigh.

She doesn't even finish the glass, but she feels sick like she's had five or ten. Or, she feels like what she thinks it'd be like? She's never actually gotten drunk, but she knows it can make you throw up. In any case, she knows she will not be getting drunk tonight. She needs to keep it together. She's okay.

The next morning, they act like they normally do, but they both know of the unspoken tension, the hurt and guilt and shame because of that disaster of a proposal that neither of them wanted to do yet. Especially not like that, in front of the Vackers. Della used to fantasize about her dream proposal - it would have been somewhere beautiful, maybe under the stars, remote and quiet. Certainly not in a well-lit room with every Vacker looking at her. She imagined tears, but she also imagined being happy. She imagined looking into her lover's eyes and smiling softly, and kissing them. Not whatever happened last night. 

But who is she to complain...

For a week, they try to pretend everything is like it was, like it has been... But then they both realize that it will never go back. They can’t go back. So they start planning the wedding. And we all know how that went. 

If you look closely in pictures taken when Alina was trying to get Alden to run away with her, you might see a glimmer of hope and desperation in Della's eyes, mixed with the shock and anxiety that was there already. For a moment Alden looked like he was about to leave and go with her - but then he snapped out of it. He was being beguiled. 

Of course, it could have just been the angle of the picture that painted that look on Della's face.

The Vackers are all freaking out after the wedding, but most pin the blame on Alina alone, and most are pleased with the end result of it - and they almost seem genuine when they smile at Della now. For once she's done something right? Do they think she handled it well? 

And honestly? Della is much happier in the week following the wedding - it's their "honeymoon period," in which they mostly just stay in Everglen where it's quiet and the world can't get to them. They invite Grady and Edaline over for tea, but that's the extent of their social interaction. For a short while. Then they're expected to go back to normal. They have to go out to work, they have to talk to people, and of course endure the speculation on what other things they could have been doing during that time. 

Now Alden and Della aren't great at communication but at this point with all the rumors and expectations to continue the Vacker family line, they do have to talk about it at some point. They just.... might procrastinate a bit.

Until finally, Della is the one to bring it up. 

She asks if he wants kids and he blinks, then says he doesn't know. He asks if she does, because if she does, he'll go along with it, of course. But she says she doesn't know either. They sit there at the table for a few minutes, neither looking at the other. They're not used to talking or making decisions together. Most of their decisions had been made for them until now.

So they wait a bit longer, until the pressure from their families and society becomes too much and they agree that they do want kids, even though they're still not sure. Except they've never even slept in the same bed... so they start there. And it's nice, actually. They no longer feel awkward just being around each other, and sometimes they cuddle, without saying anything. They'll lay down, and by morning Della is curled up in his arms and they're sharing a blanket. It's nice.

But they know they have to take it a step further eventually... and there's a big difference between cuddling fully clothed and... having a child. The last time Della had ever done anything remotely sexual was when she was a teenager, and Alden has even less experience. They don't even feel comfortable changing with the other there. They don't know how they're going to do this.

Okay, so they think, "well, Grady and Edaline have a kid, maybe we should talk to them.” And so they do! Which is like, really big for them, opening up and communicating and talking about their relationship with someone else - it's big. And scary. But... they're in the same boat. They're in this together. And soon, almost a year after they said they would... They have a child.

Both of them are really scared, because they didn't exactly have the best relationship with their own parents or the best childhood, and when Della finds out she's pregnant, she tells Alden immediately, and... he cries. He tries to pretend he's just happy, but Della has pulled that trick too many times for it to work on her. She sits by him, takes his hand, closes her eyes, and quietly admits that she's terrified. She tells him her fears about not being a good parent, and Alden is nodding along. He feels the same. He takes her hand, kisses her forehead, and promises that they'll do this together. But they have to talk about things, just like they're talking now. Della touches his cheek, wiping off a tear, and says, "I like it when we talk like this. It feels good." she leans on him, and he holds her.

And Della learns to take better care of herself, because it's not just her. She's actually eating every day, especially since Elwin noticed that she was a bit underweight when he first checked her. She grows more and more anxious the more time passes, and is constantly hailing Edaline to ask if x thing is normal for pregnancy. Edaline helps calm her by telling her baby stories about Jolie. She even gives her some of Jolie's old baby things, and Della is very grateful. Alden is just as stressed, and spends lots of time taking care of Della and figuring out what to prepare. When it was too early in the pregnancy to really start setting up a room yet, he tried to baby proof the entirety of Everglen, which is obviously impossible with all the wide staircases and tile floors and fancy crystal and sharp corners. But he tried. He settled for baby proofing the part of the house where Alvar's room was going to be, right by Alden and Della's room, then adding a baby gate in the hallway. This was not his idea, he was still trying to do the whole house when Edaline had to stop him.

Grady and Edaline bring Jolie over a lot and she tells them all about all the stuff that used to be hers, and when they knew Alvar's gender they let her help choose names. Being a brutally honest child (I think like 9 or 10, correct me if I'm wrong) she made a face at one of the names Alden suggested.

Of course, preparing for Alvar wasn't the only thing stressing Della out. They tried to keep it on the down low for a while, but of course the world found out about Della being pregnant. And there were so many predictions and speculation and people were even bringing up her "mental health struggles" (not that she doesn't have those, but they literally just saw her crying in public once) and wondering how she could be a good parent and how her child would turn out as an adult. Edaline saw how this was getting to her and told her to stop reading them so she wasn't as stressed, and finally convinced her by saying it'd be better for the baby if she could like. chill out a bit. 

And then Alvar is born, and everyone cries, and yes, Della is stressed and anxious and scared but they are happy tears! She can't help but smile as she looks at Alvar, so small and fragile and she wants to shield him from the harsh reality of the world. Alden seems almost scared to hold him, like he's afraid he'll break him if he messes up or does something wrong. He sits down by Della so she can help him make sure he does it right. Grady, Edaline, and Elwin are there to help if needed. Jolie is at Brant's house (I believe they’ve met by now). Della closes her eyes and breathes, and the moment is so... perfect. really, truly, perfect.

For a long time, things are great! they really couldn't be better... Alden and Della aren't perfect at parenting, but they're doing their best. They're managing a balance between their work and family fairly well. Like I said, they're not perfect. They do mess up. A lot. And they're super hard on themselves. But... they're trying. Alvar is growing up fairly happy, and when Jolie is old enough, she (and sometimes Brant) babysit him sometimes. Alden and Della are closer than ever with Grady and Eda, and Jolie, too. For the Vackers, the Ruewens are the first example of a healthy family that they've gotten to see.

Now, they say all good things must come to an end. 

Della is the happiest she’s been. Ever. 

And then Jolie dies. 

Everything fell apart then. the Ruewens were like family to Della and Alden, and Jolie was almost like a daughter or niece to them. And for Alvar? She had been a part of his life before he was even born. His special stuffie belonged to her, and he couldn't even fully grasp the concept of death yet. He kept asking where Jolie was, and Della couldn't explain it to him. Alden couldn't either, he'd never been good with words. Della had to keep telling him that she went away and she's not coming back, trying to explain death while still reeling from the shock of the news herself. At one point she got up and locked herself in the bathroom for a while, away from Alvar's questions and away from everything. Alden spent most of his days in his office, working. Della, on the other hand, had to take a break from work for a while. She knew the moment she left Everglen, she would be judged for grieving, grieving wrong, not grieving enough - whatever she did, it would be wrong. And it wasn't even her child who died. She wanted to comfort or help Edaline and Grady somehow, but she couldn't. She couldn't even get out of bed for a while. Alden didn’t really know this, because he'd been sleeping in his office.

All of this really affects Alvar's little child brain, but we can talk about his trauma another time. The planting happens, and the Vackers are right at the front. Alvar has finally gone quiet, and he seems to realize that she's really not coming back. He tries to go over to Brant after the proceedings, but he's kinda... unstable. Alden tells him it's time to go, so Alvar gives Brant a hug and goes back to his parents.

Even though they got that bit of closure, they're still broken. There's a wound that cannot be healed. A hole that cannot be filled. Della's mental health plummets, and for a bit, there is nobody taking care of Alvar. He plays alone in his room until he gets bored and goes to his parents room, where Della is usually curled up in bed, thinking too much and not thinking at the same time. Alden comes in one night and lays down next to her, reaching out his hand like they did when they were still figuring out how to be comfortable together. Della places her hand on top of his, and they sit there for a long time. Alvar comes in and crawls between them, placing his tiny hand on top of Della's. The three of them fall asleep there. 

Slowly, they recover. In a year they're seemingly okay again. But nothing is the same. Della and Alden are more distant from both each other and Alvar. And the wound never healed, only scarred over.

And whether that feeling of something missing affected their decision to have another child is up to speculation, but they did have another child. Part of it was also because Della felt like she had failed Alvar, that she had let him down when Jolie died, and she didn't know how to talk to him or fix things. He wasn't doing bad in Foxfire, he was actually doing better than Della had. But Alden didn't seem to think it was good enough. Or rather, his parents didn't. Alden didn't really seem all that bothered by anything Alvar was doing. He had a habit of getting too wrapped up in work, especially after Jolie died. But Alden's parents sometimes hailed him or came over, mostly to tell him how disappointed they were in how he was raising Alvar. And Della heard them blaming her, a few times. But she didn't know how to fix it. And he was still a level one - surely he had time to turn out okay?

They end up having Fitzroy Alden Fallon Avery Vacker, whose initials they did not think through (Jolie would have thought about it). But this time they feel like they're having this child alone. sure, it's their second one, but there's still no one to just... be with them. Help them. Della is still anxious, but she has no one to stop her from looking at the news, no baby stories to look back on except Alvar's, though even his have turned sad. Jolie was there for so many of them... 

Over time, they become a lot stricter with Alvar. And as Fitz (and Biana) grow older, both Alden and Della begin trying to force them into perfection. Alvar is so different and so unwilling to fit into what their family is supposed to be that Alden and Della have all but given up on him. And for Alvar, well it obviously doesn't feel great to be given up on, which really only makes him further apart from the others. He feels out of place everywhere. At home he isn't perfect enough, he has too much of an attitude, he's placed last in priority. At school, he's a Vacker. He can't escape it. It's who he is.

Prentice's mind break (if I'm mathing correctly) happened while Della was pregnant with Biana. And Alden was never really the same after it. He'd never been very talkative, but he became more distant than ever. He barely left his office, kept forgetting to eat or drink water or sleep. He got better over time, but he still smiles much less than he used to.

When Biana is born, the public doesn't really know how to feel about her. Two children is fine, but three? Isn't that pushing it a bit? So Biana grows up with people asking everything of her, but half expecting nothing. She was so scared she wasn't even going to manifest (which is a bit unrealistic but with the way things were exaggerated, she thought being talentless was very likely. Della was also very afraid of this possibility).

The happiest years for anyone in this family were from when Alvar was born to when Jolie died. Things don't seem like they'll ever be better.

Alden is forcing Fitz and Biana to be perfect to protect the family legacy. Della is forcing them to be perfect to protect them. She knows how cruel the world can be. But her “protection” doesn't come across in the best way. At home, she subtly brings attention to all their little flaws, and when they go out, she makes sure they hide them all. When they cry, she gently tells them not to, that it's okay, that they're okay, everything is okay.

After Alden recovered from the mind break, he suddenly started talking to Alvar (who was struggling a lot with Neverseen stuff and depression and an eating disorder at the time) more. And he wouldn't let Della know what they were talking about. Della stopped trusting Alden. Not that she ever truly had, but this was different.

And Alden and Della grew further apart. Nobody would know, of course, since when they're out in public or when others are around, they act as in love as ever. But sometimes they go all day without talking to each other. Della spends time with Fitz and Biana, takes them places, teaches them how to survive in this family. She teaches them how to be the best version of themselves. They are 3 and 5. Alvar is at school most of the day, and out doing... whatever until nearly sunset. Della could ask, but Alden seems like he has it covered, so it doesn't really matter. She knows she's starting to be apathetic again, and she doesn't want to be, especially when it comes to her kids, but it's so hard not to.

But then Alvar enters the elite levels, and Alden starts spending more time with Fitz. He keeps him in his office all day, but then Della goes in once and Alden is alone. Where is Fitz? She asks him, and he informs her that he's at a friend's house. Where did Fitz get friends? She should be happy for him, but something about all of this feels so wrong. But she doesn't press further. If she shows that she doesn't trust Alden, will people use that against her too? So she doesn't even question it, and instead works on becoming closer with Biana, so Alden can't take her away, too. Maybe she's being overdramatic about it, but that wrong feeling hasn't gone away. Maybe it's just anxiety. Maybe she's fine. No, she is fine. It's not a maybe. She's okay. Their family is okay.

This also creates a divide between Fitz and Biana, who used to be close as little kids. But now Fitz is disappearing every day, and Della is keeping Biana away from him and Alden, and Alvar never comes home, except briefly during breaks and weekends, but then he goes to stay stars know where. Fitz and Biana have vastly different personalities. Biana has learned to be confident and defensive, while Fitz... well, he doesn't know how to act around people. He's learned to depend only on Alden, because nobody else trusts him and he can't trust anyone else. The golden years of this corner of the family are far behind them, and now all they have is perfectionism, distrust, and a facade.

Della thinks that by bringing attention to all Fitz and Biana’s little flaws and imperfections, by pointing them out in subtle ways, she thinks that will give them a chance to "fix" them before the world notices and attacks them for it. She tells herself she wishes someone had done this to her before she had to learn for herself to be perfect. 

Fitz started going to foxfire, and Della can tell he's not really okay. Did they ever get him enrolled in tutor sessions? Maybe that's where he's been going off to? She hasn't been paying enough attention. They used to have dinner together as a family every night, but then Alden got busy, Fitz started bringing his food up to his room when he started school and became swamped with way more homework than what can be good and normal for an eleven year old. So Della usually ended up sitting at the table with Biana after making some food. She figures this is a good meal to skip. Two meals a day is more than enough.

Suddenly, everything changes. Suddenly, Sophie is there, and Fitz seems so much less tired. He seems less stressed. He joins Biana and Della for dinner, and sometimes even Alden sits and eats with them as well. Things are far from perfect, but Alden is smiling genuinely again. Only sometimes, but it's there. Della decides she likes this change. But she also realizes something...

Fitz was always either away or sick, Sophie was in the forbidden cities, where there are lots of human illnesses (she knows from experience). Alden never told her why he had Fitz get up so early to talk to him alone, Alden never talks to her anymore, goddamnit- what was Fitz doing? Alden couldn't have found Sophie. He couldn't have, she knows for a fact he never leaves! He was meeting with the council right before Sophie arrived with Fitz, in her strange human clothes, and Fitz was wearing human clothes and prime sources, she's thinking about this too much and she can't breathe - this has been going on for so long?? How could she not have seen?

No, she needs to stay calm. She... needs to talk to Alden about this. He's been busy today, but she takes two plates of food to his office in the evening, gently opens the door, and sits by him. Alden clearly thinks this is unusual, but she can't tell if it's in a positive or negative way. But that's not important. They need to talk. After a few bites of food, she prepares the question. Were you sending Fitz to the Forbidden Cities? she prepares it in her mind, has it on the tip of her tongue, she opens her mouth to speak, but what comes out instead is...

“How was your day?” 

Alden blinks, like that's not what he was expecting. It's not what Della was expecting either. But she's not ready to confront his lies, she's not ready to face the reality of the danger Fitz was in for quite possibly eight years? And that's how Alden and Della end up sitting in Alden's office for hours, having the longest, most normal conversation they've had in years. They sit together and watch the sun set. Della leans on him. She missed having someone to hold her. Alden missed the feeling of being loved.

Alden and Della sort of work on mending their relationship after this, but they don't really talk about Fitz and what Alden had him do. Della never feels ready to bring it up, and eventually she puts the whole thing out of her mind. After all, Fitz is fine, it's like it never happened. But it did happen, and she doesn't notice the ways this affected Fitz because she's too busy pretending everything is fine and forcing him to do the same! Sometimes it's less pretending and more just. lying to herself. Trying to trick herself into believing. One of the ways she's done this for herself these past decades is telling herself that other people have it worse. If someone is suffering more than her, her pain doesn't matter. going to the Forbidden Cities kind of ingrained this in her brain more, as she saw people who were literally starving to death on the street, and here she was, living in this fancy mansion with a good husband - after all, he's not abusive or anything, and she really loves him. Things are just… weird, sometimes. And she sort of ends up passing this mentality down to Biana and Fitz? There's a time in Flashback where Fitz says it's only fair that all this is happening - because everyone else in the friend group had a really hard time at least at one point in their life, and usually over a long time - he's fine! He's had it good. How could he complain?

Alden went to Exile with Sophie in book 2, but nobody knew about it. Well, nobody was supposed to know, until Sophie transmitted to Fitz and got him all freaked out. All Della really knows is that he got hurt on a mission from the Council, and he really didn’t seem to want to talk about it. When she tried to ask, he used the “no reason to worry” phrase three different times in that conversation. He was clearly stressed and upset about something, but he convinced her to drop it. He ended up falling asleep in his office that night, but that happens sometimes. Everything was looking bright for everyone else, until the Opening Ceremonies. You all know what happened there, so i’m not gonna go into it, but when Alden’s mind broke, Della was devastated. As far as everyone knew, he wasn’t coming back. He was dead, they had a planting for him. She didn’t eat for days. Alvar was basically taking care of the whole family, because Alden was gone and Della spent most of her time by Alden’s side, trying to bring him back. Alvar tried to convince her to leave every day, until one day he snapped and yelled at her, he’s gone and he’s not coming back, stop hoping. It was the same kind of thing she had told him when they lost Jolie. 

But unlike Jolie, Alden did come back, and the Vackers tried to erase the phase of their life where he was gone. They wanted to pretend that Keefe was right, that everything had gone back to perfection in Vacker Land. But this kind of thing leaves a lasting effect. They were afraid to even talk about what had happened with Alden, for fear that he’d break from the guilt of being gone and affecting them like that. Della still visits his Wanderling sometimes, not to mourn, but... for some other reason. There’s something surreal about looking at the tree, knowing full well Alden is okay at home. 

Another quick thing I want to touch on is in book 3 when Alden and Fitz went to help with Fintan’s mind healing. Della and Biana spent the afternoon and evening together, trying to do fun things to take their mind off of things. But then they heard about the fire and saw pictures before Alden and Fitz had even come home, and they understandably freaked out. The fire had consumed half of Eternalia, how could they have gotten out? How could they be okay? But they were, and both Vackers were strangled with hugs as soon as they got back. 

Della went with Fitz and Biana to join the Black Swan, partially because she wanted to, partially because she felt she should keep an eye on them and keep them at least semi in line, and partially because she wanted to escape the world and their pressing stares. And Everglen, a little bit. Juline was there, of course, but Della didn’t really know it was her. 

When Squall wasn't busy and didn't need to rush home, Della actually ended up talking to her a bit. Della was a little more honest (key word a little) with her because she obviously wasn't like the general public - she's a Black Swan member. At one point Squall actually thinks Della is about to call her out on being Juline when Della tells her she reminds her of someone she used to know, and hey, she's a Froster, too! But Della seems genuinely unaware as she sort of explains what happened with this old friend of hers - she's a bad match, and Della was seen talking with her... and she felt like she had no choice but to cut her off. Squall listens, but only half processes it because she's waiting for the "you're Juline aren't you?" But it never comes. 

After Alvar’s betrayal, Della knew a lot of people blamed her for how he ended up. After all, how could Alden Vacker have gone wrong? It was clearly Della’s influence that caused this. And she blames herself, too. She gave up on him. She didn’t talk to him enough. This whole thing also made the distrust in the Vacker family a lot worse - either Fitz or Biana said in Lodestar that it was like their parents wanted to know everything they’re doing, every place they go. They didn’t trust them. Fitz and Biana were growing closer after everything that had happened the past few years, but Della and Alden didn’t trust them, didn’t trust each other. This led to a lot of arguments between them and the kids, maybe not screaming matches, but raised voices and slammed fists and fighting back tears. When Keefe joined the Neverseen, Fitz shut himself in his room until school started again. He got quieter, and started to feel like he couldn’t trust anyone, even his sister, who he’d been taught to keep secrets from at a very young age. Della wanted to fix this somehow, she didn’t want to lose them like she’d lost Alvar - She wouldn’t give up on them. But she ended up just becoming overbearing and seemingly nosy. She thought she was helping. 

If I remember correctly, the others got told that Squall is Juline in Lodestar when they came to pick up their kids from Rimeshire. Juline gathers everyone and says she has to tell them something, and when she reveals it, Della's smile drops faster than it ever has and she feels blood drain from her face. Juline never looks directly at her, and Della is panicking, thinking about how Juline must hate her. She wonders if she should try to push her away more, but... at this point what does it matter? Fitz and Biana already spend lots of time with Dex, and they just slept over at the Dizznees- she joined an illegal organization with them for stars’ sake! So... it's fine. It's okay for her to be here, at rimeshire, talking to Juline. The world is changing, and people have bigger things to talk about than Alden Vacker’s wife sharing a conversation with Juline Dizznee. As they leave Rimeshire, Juline meets her eyes and offers a small smile. Della nods in return. 

When Alvar had his memories wiped and returned to Everglen, Della was determined to help him. She had this second chance, she wasn’t going to ruin it. She wanted to really believe he’d changed. But then Alvar got his memories back, and in front of the whole world at the celestial festival, he told everyone how his parents had given up on him. Della and Alden were watching that entire thing, as the world watched them, and Della couldn’t breathe. She watched Fitz threaten to kill Alvar, and for a few horrifying moments she thought she was about to lose both of them. And it was her fault, wasn’t it? That’s what everyone said. They blamed her. Alvar blamed her. She wouldn’t be surprised if Fitz and Biana blamed her, too. 

Ever since what the world has canonically deemed the “Scandal at Everglen,” things in the Vacker family have not gotten better. Alden had been talking to Fitz about matchmaking for a while, encouraging him to pursue Sophie as a romantic interest. Eventually they do get together. Della tries to be happy for him, but she still sees this and thinks, maybe give them time. If she could go back, she would have wanted to enjoy her life before committing to the Match forever. She’s almost relieved when Sophie and Fitz don’t work out. She thinks it’ll be better for Fitz in the end. She knows he’s been isolating himself from his family, from the world after the Scandal at Everglen, which is understandable. They all seem to think he’s crazy. He’s seventeen, and he almost killed his own brother, right there. But Della was watching, too, and she saw that it was Gethen doing the manipulating. Using the right words, would they make Fitz turn out like Alvar? The thought still chills her to this day. 

I don’t really have a good way to wrap it up other than I don’t think anything good will be happening to the Vackers anytime soon (except Biana, she seems to be doing relatively good compared to the rest). But yeah those are my Della thoughts :) 

Lastly, art tags:

@cutebisexualmess @void-kill @lemon-girl-in-devil-town @keefe--sencen @tastetherainbow290 

@myfairkatiecat @awful-amateur @aspenaspenaspenaspenaspen @necromycologist @cosmxc-ars3hol3