#as well as 'abandonment issues/perfect girls'

[eir-parade]

Polar|Star (P|S)

Leo/Need Adjacent Band

A group of music enthusiasts finding comfort in one another through their own music. Made with and for each other.

Hoshino Ichika - Vocalist, Guitarist, Partial Lyricist. Losing her passion for music, she wants to relearn what it means to enjoy music.

Asahina Mafuyu - Keyboardist, Partial Lyricist. Wants to find herself and feels as if music is the correct direction.

Shiraishi An - Drummer. After learning the truth of RAD WEEKEND, An lost her aspiration of trying to surpass it but also out of respect for Nagi. Ever since though, she has been having difficulty trying to understand her music.

Kiritani Haruka - Bassist, Composer. After quitting being an idol, Haruka found her way with a new instrument, showing her feelings in a new way.

SEKAI: Empty Assembly SEKAI

Similar to the Empty SEKAI where it’s just a huge white area, except in the design of a School Assembly Hall.

Despite there being a stage, the Hall itself seems to expand on forever.

School desks and chairs haphazardly dotted about in the Hall, blank sheets or paper with garbled writing strewn out on the desks and the floor.

First Virtual Singer

Hatsune Miku - Is basically like Niigo Miku. Acts like a calming presence to the others.

Virtual Singers

Order of Appearance (StC)

All act fairly similar to their Nightcord selves (blame Mafuyu /lh)

Megurine Luka - Tends to specifically criticise Ichika. Will read over Ichika’s lyrics or hears how she plays and will ask “is that it?�� Though never actually giving the answer, Luka will nudge and hint Ichika in the correct direction. Ichika used to dislike how Luka would ‘pick on her’ but now trusts Luka’s opinion whole-heartedly.

Kagamine Rin - The group's biggest critic. Even if they think they’re doing something correctly, or playing right, Rin would immediately criticise them, telling them they’re wrong and that they should be doing it like this. Her criticism helps bring Haruka back down to Earth but causes Mafuyu immense stress and panic. Rin also acts similar to a prefect so will tell them off for running or shouting (namely An).

MEIKO - Represents distance… again. And hesitancy. Specifically An and Ichika’s hesitancy to get close to people again due to their own abandonment issues. When the group were deciding on actually becoming a full band, MEIKO directly questions An and Ichika’s dedication.

Kagamine Len - Childish. Like Niigo Len, P|S Len represents Mafuyu’s inner child, a childhood she lost. He also represents being a good student and would stress when he doesn’t get something right but also has moments where ‘slacking off’ seems to make him happy. He can also represent the other’s childhood as he can be very starry eyed.

KAITO - Anger. Pure, unadulterated rage towards Mafumom, broken promises, liars, fakes, and the world.

Subject to Change as I go on figuring out this AU more.

[imaginechb]

Things the fandom often forgets about Jason Grace:

His mother abandoned him at 2 and he survived training with the wolf goddess Lupa at 3

He isn't some dumbass bro himbo like a lot of people think, he's actually really smart and knows a lot of things

He wears glasses and loses them a lot

He's one of the kindest demigods in both camps

He defeated the titan Krios with his bare f*cking hands

AND he killed the trojan sea monster

He isn't the "roman percy", and he's not some knockoff protagonist

He isn't trying to replace or compete with Percy

Percy and Jason actually hardly know each other and there really isn't much of a bromance there like people think (but if you wanna keep being delulu I respect it)

He toppled the black throne of Kronos and earned his position as praetor

He was literally praetor

Which led to him hardening a bit and put a lot of pressure on him to be a perfect leader

He once jumped into the grand canyon to save a girl he really didn't know that well, with no regard to the fact that he would literally die

HE LITERALLY DIDNT KNOW HE COULD FLY

He isn't boring, it's just that when we meet him in TLH we literally don't know him (and he doesn't either lmfao), we don't have the history and bond we do with Percy

He has a big smile and deep laugh

Jason didn't replace Percy at CHB, people were actually apprehensive of him whereas CJ pretty much DID replace Jason with Percy (treating him as a powerful leader and electing him praetor)

He was literally a child soldier and probably has a lot of issues because of this

He used to squint a lot before he got his glasses

People probably thought he was glaring or judging them, but in actuality he just couldn't f*cking SEE

He's actually a big softie and gives such golden retriever vibes

Canonically handsome

People think he's too perfect but that's because he had to be. He had so much pressure on him to be perfect all the time

He has a calm and steady voice, and even when he's yelling/speaking intensely, it's still steady and strong

TLDR; Jason is literally my fav and Jason hate will not be tolerated here thank you 🫶

[honestsycrets]

omg sex worker miguel o’hara? 🤧🫡

grande | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader

❛ pairing | sex worker!miguel o'hara x assistant!reader.

❛ type | extended drabble; 2kish words; explicit

❛ summary | you probably shouldn't tell a man that he's small. even if you've known him a very long time-- and especially if you see him fuck every day.

❛ tags | sex worker au, improper use of belts, male receiving oral, slight disagreements, workplace argument, Spanish is not translated

❛ sy’s notes | ...i now have an escort!miggy x rich girl!reader in my drafts to be finished at some other time because it became a bit depressing and plotty. needed something light to get back into writing for a bit.

He doesn’t play fair. Most women understand that about him. They know Miguel to be the man who bends the delicate boundaries of rules for a good fuck— be it a place, be it a position. Miguel would do what he had to for a better clip. 

“Miggy?” You said, hands behind your hips. He should have known then that you were up to some shit. You hover somewhere in his vision with a sugar-sweet smile. You’ve worked with him alongside him since he chose this profession. Most days, he watched you sit by your favorite window that cast a warm midday sun, tacking away with fingers that flew across the keys. Some days, you’re watching him-- mounted on another woman. He cocked his thick brow at you. 

“What?”

“I… it’s just… fuck. Elena had something come up.” 

“Like I said she would."

Miguel set his fist to his cheek, swirling his protein shake in the other hand. This woman was your idea, not his. There’s a reason your voice choked on the words. You were anxious about your news the way your hands rounded to the front of your body, clammy hands plastered onto your tablet.

“I just thought—“

“I know what you thought. You thought my followers would like her.” He took a swig of his drink. “Not if she’d like me.”

That was exactly the issue. You do too much worrying about what the viewer likes, not enough about what he would like. He was well aware from every ping from Elena and the contorted little face you made that she was scared of him. As to why, he was not certain. He's grumpy, not dangerous.

“She does like you— it’s just your dick,“ you fumbled with your tablet, nearly spilling it over on his lap. “I told her you weren’t that big. She’s just— dramatic.”

“Not that big?” 

You’re not winning this fight. He threw a look at the tablet, finding your suggestion more egregious than your description of it. Too thick! She complained. He’d stretch her out. Or, so she feared. He sincerely doubted that. She took enough dick that if that were the case, she’d have an issue long before now.

He’s not that big in real life. All that big dick crap is just marketing. I see his dick all the time. 

Then you fuck him!

His mouth flattened into an unmoveable line, clearly unappeased with your response. For a moment, he did not move. He did not fidget. Nor respond. He simply stared down at you with those sharp, unhumored eyes. What little security you had in convincing him flitted away. He abandoned his drink on the table and leaned in close. Close enough that his thick strands of dark hair tickle your skin. Enough that you can smell the perfumed oil that lingered on his tanned skin. He always smelled so good.

“Until you’ve fucked me onscreen,” he brushed past. “Don’t tell women who will what I’m like.” 

Oh. You made a mistake.

You don’t like it when Miguel is angry. 

Most days coming to work, Miguel has a hot coffee on the table for you as you edit his finest ball-busting work. When the days stretch a little too long, he tells you when enough is enough. And, if you were lucky, he hovered at the stove and made you something to eat. It gave you a perfect sight of his toned shoulders and the long column of his spine-- which he so graciously allowed you to drool over day by day. Today, there was no half-dressed hunk making your delicious meals in sight. 

He’s still angry. You pulled up his socials, scrolling through the responses to the latest video. A teasing blooper of a clip with a woman with Miguel’s length halfway down her throat, coughing up his seed all over her chest as you mistakingly giggle behind the screen. 

“Keep laughing and see what happens,” Miguel drifted to yours, eyes hazy and soft, chest rising violently with the sundering sensation of his orgasm. He watched for the span of only a few heartbeats, a decadent warning exchanged between the two of you immeasurable before the camera. He reached for a tissue.

“Perdóname, papi.” 

Does anyone know if they’re fucking? A user asked. It’s as if Miguel’s co-star was but a fading character. Any chance of seeing him fuck her?? Whats her @? 

She’s just his employee.

Need this.

Just an employee. The words pulled on a string of connection that could at any time be cut. Miguel had no interest in wielding the scissors to do so, rather, over the past few years the string only became stronger. He’ll get over it. You stared at the reflection of your poorly made cup of cafecito, undrunken because no one made it like Miguel made it. He’s there, hovering around the sink, but you feel all the more alone in the room. Producer, editor, friend-- your eyes fell back to the cup. 

“Are you done?” Miguel hovered by your coffee cup. It was cool to the touch. 

“Ah. Sí.” 

You gazed up at him, regret seeping from your features. If you apologized yet again, he’d simply leave the room. There are no good words. No ones that would make sense, no words that would… be good enough to make him come back when he’s in this mood, unmoveable and distant. You’re so close to him-- but all alone.

He takes the cup away.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Miguel dropped his phone on your office desk. It thumped over the tablespace, his expression morphing into something wrong. You turn his phone upright, knowing the contents before the information actually registers in your mind. 

“It’s a picture of me,” you closed the top of your laptop and whirled around in the chair, knocking your knees against his. He’s closer than he’s been in days. 

“Yes. But what else?” he rumbled. 

You’re not stupid, remembering the launch of merch that Miguel sincerely doubted anyone would be seriously interested in. How many people wore a male sex worker’s merch? This was all your idea, of course. Your lip is bitten fat, stripped of skin. Your eyes wandered across the table to the cabinet with an array of different cameras. Miguel rapped his scarred knuckles over the table, blocking your desperation for an escape. He wanted a substantial answer.

“You told me to make sure it sold.” 

“And that meant model with your ass out on my page.”

“You don’t like it?” 

"Dios," that’s not the point. He breathed a forceful breath, navigating your rolling chair up against the bed in the room. Typically the bed was used for a late night at the office or one of Miguel’s performances with any number of women you cast him with. Or, as you preferred, when he masturbates by himself-- squeezing his hand along his length as your phantom hand poured more wet lubricant over his cock. The sheets are always stained and consequentially changed.

“I don’t like that they know what you look like,” Miguel supplied, his chest cresting into a fall. His gaze fell to your hands, settled in a clasp over your short skirt. Now he knew what you looked like. “Do you know how many requests I have to…”

“Fuck me.” 

“Sí,” Miguel said, your name dying on his tongue. “To fuck you.” 

“Then do it. You have a camera.”

What-- his gaze read. It’s in the way his brow pushed together, how his lips fell just so lightly apart. He would say something more, but your hands are on his dark slacks, tracking up toward his sturdy leather belt. In only an hour or so, Miguel was meant to record with Elena, who, you convinced. He should be saving his stamina for that, not this. Even so, his hands hovered atop your own, grunting slightly in response, unable to stop what you were doing. 

“Don’t ask me to ruin you.”

“I think you already have,” you murmured, finding his soft cock. You stroked him through his pants, drawing along his length, getting him where you want him. With every scene you recorded, you knew what Miguel liked. You knew he liked scenes where he could take his time, as short and far between as they were. You want that too. You drew the belt loose and unbuttoned the little spry button. So close, you could almost taste him.

“Are you going to record it?” You gestured toward the desk, pulling his cock into the free air. He’s an impressive length, just as you recall, you think he has to be to be an adult actor. The real treat is Miguel’s thick girth, swirled with delicious veins. You had seen his dick at least a hundred times, delighted in watching him meet his orgasm time and time again, and touched yourself to the thought of being just like his many girls. 

“No,” Miguel pulled his belt from the loops and tugged it around his wrist. He let the other hand find the back of your head, weaving through smooth locks of hair, guiding your lush lips to his cock. “This is all for me.” 

When he spoke like that, all you wanted was to make him happy. Your moist mouth separated, warm breath tickling the length that he shoved into your wet mouth. Maybe Elena had a point, you think, suckling around his length once, drawing to his fat tip. He hums in response, bucking back deep into your mouth. Miguel didn't want to wait, causing you to gag over his length, a terrible coughing resonating about his dick. Now that he had you here, he would show you how wrong you were.

“I thought I wasn’t that big,” Miguel’s hand left your head, stretching his belt across the back of your neck. Bucking forward, you gagged around his length, scratching his clothed hip for some mercy. If he wasn’t so big-- you could take it, couldn’t you? “Just like that. Hm? Cómo?” 

He was gracious enough to allow you off his cock, gasping for air as you were, the depth of his plunging cock having pricked a few oversensitized tears on the sides of your eyes. You’re beautiful like that, overwrought and needy. Your heart rattled in the confines of your ribcage, wheezing as you jerked him pathetically. How certain you look now, tugging on him for a moment of relief.

“I’m sorry--” 

“Ya sé.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, guiding him back into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed out, drawing him in fast and hard. If not for the belt around the back of your neck, he might have stumbled, stuck between the warmth of your mouth and the pleasured groans tickling his length. You’re well-accustomed to what the girls do, stretching your palm around his dick.

“Harder,” he remarked, throwing a half-chewed-up curse aside. Unlike with the other girls, he’s weak before the pleasure, usually focused and refined, his jaw clenches. He’s gotten weak-- has it been that long since he’s had sex outside of the roll of the camera? 

“Miggy,” you pulled back, your sloppy tongue swirling about his fat tip. He catches the moan in his chest, refusing to let it crest over, not yet. His eyes catch yours, muscular stomach flexing, he’s listening. “I want to taste you. Can I taste you?” 

You’re such a good niña. Miguel forces you back to your rightful place on his cock, the band stretched so tight around his fists that he might break it. Your name becomes an unbearable, pleasurable slur on his tongue. He’s a trained man, knowing to cum when you say to come on each shoot. In many ways, he's your trained dog: cuming when he's told to.

His length pulsed in your mouth for one final thrust before he gave you what you wanted, strands of release spraying the back of your warm little mouth. You suckled him up, even as he tried to pull free. You cleaned his cock, sucking him nice and clean. Miguel brushed off your attempt to zip him away.

“Don’t bother,” Miguel breathed, pulling at the black-tie strapped to his throat. His white dress shirt was soaked, causing him to roll the sleeves up to his elbows. His voice dropped, well-fucked out but nearly ready for another round. “Your cunt is next.” 

“But Elena is on her w--” 

“Fuck her,” Miguel waved his hand, slouching into your chair. “Fix the camera. We have a video to shoot.” 

If nothing else-- now you can tell her how big he really is.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Legend has very strange priorities

Fanfic prompt: Ravio and Legend have the weirdest relationship in the entire chain and it literally is the equivalent of a girl who had a perfect dream partner and then afterwards just settled for the least likely weirdo to abandon her

Like Legend definitively has no idea what a standard relationship is

It is either perfect or messy as hell with lots of issues from both sides

the chain talks about romance during a quiet moment (only the older ones over alcohol)

Time speaks about Malon and how much he loves her

Sky is not passing the opportunity to talk about Zelda

Twilight is talking about how a girl he loved left him and how he had to accept that she had left him for the safety of Hyrule

Warriors talks about some dates he had with some random women and doesn’t pass the chance to slander Cia for being a weird creep

And then Legend's turn starts

And he tells them the abridged story about how he met Ravio (because he will start crying if he has to talk about Marin)

But does it so poorly that everyone now thinks that Legend is in a relationship with a living, breathing red flag

Because who breaks into other peoples houses sets up a shop and scams you in your own god damn house

Then has the audacity to steal the weapons you were forced to rent from you if you get injured

And just rerent them to YOU

And then married you less then a month later to get a legal way to stay in Hyrule as an immigrant

And still is squatting at your house with their illegal weapons selling gig

And the only reason why you are not reporting on this madness is because you know for certain that he won’t leave you as your first lover did

Like afterwards the chain contemplated absolutely everything legend has ever done

Because his preservation skills on their adventure are not human

But he apparently sees nothing wrong with that relationship he has

Warriors already knew Ravio and his already low opinion on the scammer just dropped to below hell itself

Because no matter how much they argue Legend is his annoying younger brother who he won’t let down by letting him continue that mess of a relationship

Because Warriors knows how utterly awful such people can be and only barely escaped such a relationship himself with Cia

And now their new argument topic is about how awful Ravio seems and While Warriors is determined to make Legend see the truth about his supposedly terrible relationship

Legend not noticing that Warriors is serious about an argument for once accidentally makes it worse

Warriors: Do you think that he won't leave you if you go on adventures

Legend : he definitely won’t leave my house so no worries about that one

Warriors: ….?

Legend : I have high standards afterall

Warriors *genuinely concerned*: those are not standards that is basic decency what the actual…!?,?,”?!

Legend : he won’t even sell my stuff if he is feeling nice ,because he is a good boyfriend

Warriors: LINK WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS NOT FINE AT ALL

Legend : he also has never hurt me for no good reason so stop being hypocritical about it for no god damn reason (talking about that one time when Ravio had to slap him out of shock or when he did his stitches or similar necessary pain)

Warriors: WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!?!?!?,!!!?!

Legend : it didn’t even hurt that much honestly it was just a slight sting if anything

And by that point Warriors was ready to execute somebody because his brother truly says everything like it is something nice of his partner

Spoiler it was not Legend

Twilight joined as well when Legend told him how much Ravio likes bunnies and how it probably keeps their entire relationship together

Because that is just wrong to diminish someone’s abilities into just that one thing ( Legend should stop with the self depriveing jokes for his husband’s sake )

By the time the chain was in Legend's Hyrule again everyone was out for blood

[spookysteddie]

Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life. 

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him. 

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner. 

You. 

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl. 

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!” 

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him. 

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry. 

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face. 

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming. 

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record. 

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right. 

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.” 

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind. 

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction. 

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.” 

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.” 

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four. 

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing. 

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around. 

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!” 

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.” 

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!” 

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger. 

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes. 

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.” 

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.” 

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak. 

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.” 

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.” 

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him. 

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.” 

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes. 

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?” 

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door. 

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?” 

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?” 

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.” 

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects. 

… 

You were right. 

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend. 

Nothing. 

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home? 

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good. 

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him. 

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose. 

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?” 

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.” 

You sniffle, “is it just your face?” 

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.” 

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.” 

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?” 

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots. 

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.” 

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain. 

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.”  You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes. 

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one. 

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline. 

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it. 

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say. 

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple. 

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.” 

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. 

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him. 

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years. 

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?” 

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster. 

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.” 

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.” 

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs. 

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest. 

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly. 

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them. 

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.” 

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.” 

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.” 

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. 

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared. 

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you. 

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.” 

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in. 

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him. 

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure. 

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.” 

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further. 

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy. 

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers. 

“P-please. Gator please.” 

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.” 

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.” 

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!” 

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.” 

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely. 

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely. 

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you. 

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.” 

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight. 

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.” 

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both. 

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.” 

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter. 

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…” 

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.  

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him. 

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you. 

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.” 

It’s all you need to fall into bliss. 

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down. 

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you. 

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.” 

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?” 

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.” 

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.” 

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

[azure-cherie]

PAC :

What's in your store for January

Pile 1 -3

Hello love's hope you had a very happy and fruitful new year , I'm praying for the happiness and well being of all of us one more year together I'm so grateful for each one of youuu

Please choose using your intuition and take what resonates

If you'd like a personalized reading for new year

Paid readings , paid readings 2 , masterlist

Pile 1 :

First of all what are you guys even dealing with good lord The energy is pretty heavy , I will not be surprised if you have prominent Saturn in your charts this month I believe you are dealing with karmic cycles , Things ending in general, you might be a bit shaken up soon something you thought never would happen will happen

I'm sensing career or home sector fights could be there as well as inner conflicts beware and take precautions don't get too caught up about what others have to say rather choose your own story this also indicates you might soon take a stand for yourself its really required something has to come to an end because the time is over now you are to urge for more ! Financially! Abundance is written for you this time your creativity will pay off I know you like you play with fire but remember life moulds you like a clay some fire glazes some melts you gotta choose your own battles why do I feel like I'm talking to myself lol .

You will understand the worth of spontaneous plans soon sometimes you gotta do stuff for the sake of doing it and you just gotta act wild just be careful about the fact that everyone you go out with isn't a friend every co worker doesn't mean good for you learn to see through people's mask ! Theres one video by persephonesmind its perfect she explains it really well , followed by ten of swords some of you might experience a rock bottom moment however it isn't for everyone but with the world be assured you will pick yourself up this might seem like a bad ending but it's a good one or turn out to be good it's a matter of time bae anyone who tries to play you cheat on you will be ashamed themselves because they will see the purity in your heart .towards the end of the month I see some enemies becoming friends.

Pile 2 :

You're a bad bitch period !! This month is about embodying the best version of yourself move on despite the snakes around you ignore the people you're gonna be investing on something that is worth it it's a sign ! Friendships are something you will be blessed this month new and old you will also actively let go of a fear of yours I heart heights and abandonment issues.

If you're looking for commitment from someone it will be given this month like engagements marriage yay social media fame is also written there would be more family functions to attend to I see more active energy in this pile. You will understand the worth of standing alone and work your intuition through difficult situations .Your dreams might be a clear indicator of something also I feel you're making someone cry or someone is making you cry ask advice from someone who's been there in your situation you can also ignore if the situation isn't as important I also feel ignorance energy I guess it's good because you're also healing from abandonment issues .

You'll be doing some course on money management or get advise from your elders on your resources. Sometimes we make our own problems dont get sucked into that take time but let your loved ones know that you need it ! Also you really need that money management advice as you might end up losing something but I also don't think it will he a bad loss ! Sometimes sacrifices are necessary you might understand the worth of small losses now but that will protect from bigger issues later.

Pile 3 :

I don't dress for women I don't dress for men lately I've been dressing for revenge! That's your main mood this January you're gonna show everyone who didn't believe in you what you're capable of you're going new heights reaching new goals making new ways I'm so proud of you

You have struggled a lot to do this actions manifesting you are getting closer to what you want , might fetch yourself a new leadership position this month you're gonna be an example an epitome of grown beside the struggles because you're so ready to work despite all the sneaking going on behind your back you're gonna be doing the thing needed to defeat your enemies you will undergo momentary defeat and might cry for a while because you might feel all forces are against you this is the time to pour into your inter child

When trauma shows up remember to shadow work nothing ever goes away one needs to heal with it don't get swayed away with temptations and fake promises I heard devil is strong but so is the knight know that your emotional strength will lead you through this you have to be more intune with your emotions but also lead with logic it's a hard balance to learn but once you're on it you become undefeated and you will be I'm so sure about that.

Thank you so much for reading

Have a great day/night ahead ❤️

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Quand Tu Voudras

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: ~7.2k

TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve

A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!

Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked. 

Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times. 

But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going. 

You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt. 

You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers. 

It fits you perfectly. 

You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed. 

So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again. 

“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes. 

“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…” 

“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.” 

“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”

You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.

Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role. 

You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea. 

“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.” 

The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves. 

“Do you know how much flowers cost?” 

Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”

“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.” 

“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”

“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.” 

“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying. 

“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.” 

As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?” 

You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror. 

Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head. 

Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again. 

JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it. 

You jumped. 

“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.” 

“You said yes.” 

You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing. 

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”

“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”

“But?” 

“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”

If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.” 

“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”

“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”

“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.” 

“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.” 

“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet. 

Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet. 

You opened the door. “How much…”

His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back. 

“You are not the pizza guy.” 

“No. I’m not.” 

His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years. 

“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter. 

“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”

“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered. 

You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were. 

“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder. 

The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click. 

“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”

“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.” 

JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?” 

You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.” 

JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service. 

Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment��life feeling like it should. 

A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.

When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—

“You can’t win every game, Spence.” 

His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips. 

Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck. 

And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.” 

He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time. 

“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”

You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…” 

Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god. 

“Hey Emily, is everything okay?” 

“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.

“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 

“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out. 

“Is she okay?” 

Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.” 

Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.” 

JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it. 

“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him. 

Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.” 

“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”

“I know. I’m so–”

“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—” 

“I was terrified of you.”

“What…” 

Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.” 

“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”

“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.” 

JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.” 

Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.” 

Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.” 

Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop. 

“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”

You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.” 

Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”

“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying. 

“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..” 

He shook his head. 

Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line. 

“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.” 

“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”

“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”

You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did. 

“I love you.” 

You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.” 

His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.

“I’ll see you out there?” 

“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”

You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”

Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again. 

But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break. 

When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders. 

“Looks good, guys.” 

“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”

“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours. 

“I love it, guys, thank you.” 

JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office. 

“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed. 

Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.” 

“Good.” 

“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”

“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.” 

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked. 

“Can I come in?”

“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.” 

He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you. 

Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him. 

All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game. 

“You look…..”

“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.” 

Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.” 

Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to. 

Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore. 

Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention. 

Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day. 

But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him. 

“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.” 

“So you two spoke?”

You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking. 

“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”

“How about no?”

“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.” 

“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”

Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”

You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”  

The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation. 

“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me. 

“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.” 

“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”

“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”

“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.” 

Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 

“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet. 

“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”

“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.” 

You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”

“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading. 

“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.” 

“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.” 

This was not a good case. 

It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.

And it did. 

You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized. 

You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen. 

That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands. 

You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down. 

You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun. 

Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe. 

Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion. 

You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name. 

Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic. 

“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate. 

Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air. 

Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks. 

“Can you sit up?” 

“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…” 

You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney. 

“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.

“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain. 

“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.” 

“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered. 

Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you. 

“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm. 

Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were. 

It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both. 

You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating. 

“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.” 

“You can’t—”

“I’m gonna vomit.” 

“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”

“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat. 

“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out. 

Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital. 

Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance. 

“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.” 

“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently. 

“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?” 

He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…” 

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache. 

“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.” 

“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.” 

You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”

“Okay, yes, but—”

“And computer science is a science, right?” 

Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop. 

It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas. 

This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times. 

Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well. 

He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do. 

“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.” 

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”

His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out. 

You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything. 

But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—

“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago. 

You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD. 

“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.” 

He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down. 

The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another. 

The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it. 

Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him. 

Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right? 

Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again. 

You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other. 

And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his. 

Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying. 

“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.

“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.” 

The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal. 

“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.” 

He squeezed your hand. 

Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you. 

Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating. 

Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you. 

You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone. 

Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist. 

“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.” 

Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.” 

“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”

“Spence.”

“What.”

You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None. 

He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss. 

That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up. 

But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex. 

You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.

“What book I should read next.” 

“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again. 

“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.” 

“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.” 

This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek. 

“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.” 

Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows. 

“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”

Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved. 

And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet. 

Everything was alright. Everything was okay. 

And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said

I do. 

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 2

Second chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto AU. Written from the POV of Nikto this time. A reminder once again that there's a prologue and "part 1" is only the first full chapter. The original cowboy AU is owned and created by @ghouljams.

A/N: I'm a day late on my estimation for when it would be done, but life decided to get me sick, busy with uni work, and put one of my legs completely out of action. I also realized about 3 husbandry manuals deep into my research that the chapter would be a bit too long if I included that much information. Instead, the info will be sprinkled in among the next few chapters.

Warnings: Sputnik being a silly girl.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

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The weather is downright miserable. While one might assume the worst weather would be torrential rain or unforgiving hail, Nikto is firmly of the belief that there’s nothing worse than a hot, sunny day. It’s hard enough to be constantly covered from head to toe, but to then add on the Texan sun beating down at its full strength? He’s certain he’ll be nothing more than a puddle of sweat by the end of the day.  

At least Sputnik seems to be enjoying the disgusting temperatures. She’s running around the front of the property, completely unfazed by the heat. She welcomes it, in fact, using it as the perfect excuse to paddle into the large dam for a cool swim at the day’s warmest.  

Her paws are caked with mud and grass, so much to her sadness she’s been barred from entering the house, forced to wait until she’s dried off and all the muck has fallen off of her paws. If she’s still dirty by the end of the day then a quick hosing down will be in order, but she’ll likely consider that a fun game too.  

For now, she’s content to lay stretched out on the porch, her side rapidly rising and falling as she pants.  

The weather isn’t the only thing that’s miserable, however. Nikto’s mood has been foul ever since his forced trip into town for new supplies. A certain hyena had decided that she was bored while her owner was away and had decided to chew a rather large hole in the wall of the shed.  

The hole was easily large enough for her to climb through and so, after having already spent most of the day hard at work, Nikto was forced to leave for the only hardware store in town. Some new planks of wood and a hammer not riddled with rust later, and he’s reminded of the invoice he received the vet clinic a few days prior and has also yet to pay for.  

He’s not quite sure what possessed him to go to the clinic in person, but he was disappointed regardless with what greeted him. The receptionist was painfully cheery and seemed determined to dig into his business with her endless questions. He’d left feeling completely drained from only a single conversation with the woman. You hadn’t been there. He can’t fathom why that annoys him so much.  

The hole in the shed was simple enough to fix, even under the intensity of the sweltering heat, but the issue of Sputnik remains.  

Clearly, he can’t leave her unattended for several hours at a time just for work. She’s never had to entertain herself in such an environment and clearly, it’s stressing her out being without her only packmate. She requires both social interaction and physical activity, but above all of that, needs mental stimulation.  

Like a toddler left without a guardian, Sputnik has decided that she can tear apart the house and garden while unattended. Plants have been torn out of the ground, wooden structures gnawed to bits, and most concerningly, large holes dug along the fence line.  

The situation is far from ideal, but Nikto does not abandon his own. He isn’t like those bastards at the CIA who are willing to leave those loyal to them knowing full well they will perish without help. He made that decision a long time ago, and Sputnik’s very name is a tribute to that.  

It was only three years ago, but it felt like eons. It started with a small enemy group hidden deep within the South African wilderness who were utilising spotted hyenas as guard animals. Nikto and his team had cut through the animals both outside and inside the building, even the ones hidden away in the basement below. 

In the end, only a single cub remained; a tiny girl still nestled up against the steadily cooling body of her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a week or two of age, bright eyed as all hyena newborns are, and covered in scraggly fur.  

The other men on the team planned on putting the animal out of her misery, but the sight gave Nikto pause. She was small and defenceless, and abandoned by her cowardly handlers to be killed by their enemy. It was a story he couldn’t help but find familiar. Picking up the infant, she snuggles into his vest, completely trusting of him despite not having known him for more than a few seconds.  

She whines and licks at him as he tucks her into his shirt, safe and warm pressed up against scarred skin. No one says a word, when he leaves the compound with the cub and boards the waiting helicopter for the trip back to base.  

His first thought was to name her Laika, but that name seemed a little too common for his taste, and so he chose Sputnik, the name of Laika’s space capsule and eventual tomb. A tribute to yet another stray who was left behind by those who should have protected her.  

Sputnik would not suffer the same fate; she would never be disregarded like a broken toy thrown into the trash. She’s good, she’s loyal, she trusts Nikto unconditionally. Destroying a bit of property would never be a reason to break that trust.  

Instead, he presses dial on your number and holds his phone to his ear. He’s been thinking it over for several minutes, finger hovering over the button with your contact listed, before forcing himself to press it. For a long while it rings and he’s about to give up when you finally answer with a bright greeting to whoever is on the other side.  

He grunts out your name, listening as you happily chirp his own back at him in return. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. He can hear the soft rumbling of a car’s engine in the background and can only assume you’re driving somewhere.  

“I require... assistance,” he says after a long pause, letting the conversation drift into silence. While it isn’t necessarily help he’s asking for, it still rankles deeply that he isn’t solving the issue alone. He despises being indebted to anyone for anything, but for some reason he doesn’t get the feeling you’re out to acquire favours from anyone. You’re a professional merely doing what you’re trained for and nothing more. He can admire that.  

“What can I help you with? Is Sputnik alright?” You sound so genuinely concerned about her, so much so that it sounds like you almost drop your phone.  

He glances down at the hyena laying happily at his feet, panting up at him with a broad grin. “She is fine,” he confirms, catching the relieved sigh you let out, “it is behavioural issues she is dealing with.”  

You make a soft sound, clearly intrigued, “well, I’m on the road at the moment heading toward my next appointment, but I should have time to drop in to your place in a few hours. Will you be around then?”  

“да,” he hums, “we will be here.”  

“Perfect! I’ll be there in a few,” you confirm, and after offering an acknowledging grunt, he ends the call.  

He goes to pocket the phone but pauses, glancing at your number. Mulling it over for a good long while, he selects the number and adds it to his contacts. There’s only two other people there, one of them his current workplace and the other one of his old acquaintances from before even his time in KorTac.  

A rather dramatic huff from Sputnik draws his attention from staring at his phone, and he watches her with hidden amusement as she rolls over onto her stomach. She looks up at him with big, sad eyes and a pathetic whine. When he merely rolls his eyes at her she playfully snaps her teeth in his direction.  

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” he growls back, curling the undamaged part of his lip at her.  

The hyena, fortunately, can tell he’s still joking despite his deadpan tone and leaps to her feet with a delighted cackle. She shakes out her coat, biting at the air. The moment he so much as twitches a finger in her direction she turns and leaps off the top of the deck, forgoing the stairs so she can sprint across the yard.  

Nikto stands from his chair but doesn’t give chase, watching as the crazy animal spins around in circles before darting off toward the dam again. She dives into the water with a splash, sending muddy water in all directions. He cringes slightly at the sight of the hyena now dripping with muck. At least he was already planning on hosing her down. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly, with Nikto taking some time to rest while Sputnik causes minimal trouble.  

When your car finally does pull up, the poor girl has exhausted herself again, laying in a pile of leaves while she happily naps away. The moment her flicking ears pick up the sound of your truck on the gravel she jumps up again, eyes wide as she takes in the familiar sight. She’s already giggling to herself with excitement, looking between Nikto and your vehicle.  

“место!” Nikto calls, ignoring the sad whimper that earns. He approaches when you pull up, patiently waiting as you drop out of the front seat and close the door behind you.  

When you spot him, you offer a wave and grin, “hey, Nikto!” You take a moment to glance over at Sputnik and he can see her near enough vibrating with how excited she is to come over and greet you out of the corner of her eye. “How’ve you been doing?” you stop just before him, looking him right in the eye, completely unfazed by the monster you’re facing down.  

“We are fine,” he says, perhaps a little too firmly given the way you blink at him, “we require some assistance with behavioural issues.” He quickly amends his statement in the hopes of not immediately scaring you off.  

Fortunately, you’re quick to bounce back, a smile returning to your face, “of course, what sorts of problems are you experiencing?”  

“Спутник!” The hyena’s head shoots up upon hearing her name, “ко мне!” She sprints across the grass, very nearly crashing into his legs with her enthusiasm to heed her owner’s command. “She is getting bored when left alone,” he explains, watching as you reach your hand out for the hyena, “eating walls, digging holes, breaking everything she can reach.”  

Sputnik snuffles at your hand, before whining and immediately shifting to lean up against you, demanding pets. You scratch behind her neck and Sputnik’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in delight. “I’m sure we can work something out to help prevent her from damaging anything else or accidentally eating something she shouldn’t be.”  

“She struggles when left alone, especially during work hours,” he adds on, turning and starting to stalk toward the side of the house where the majority of the damage can be seen.  

“Okay, well she sounds like she just needs some enrichment to keep her occupied while you’re away,” you nod to yourself as you follow Nikto around to the side of the house. Several of the small plants that had been happily growing in little spots around the yard have been either pulled from the soil or completely shredded if they couldn’t be moved.  

You look at the scattered remains of the poor shed’s wall, but don’t look entirely surprised by the backyard warzone you’ve stepped into. You frown down at Sputnik, scratching her between the ears, “what a silly girl,” you coo, rubbing at her ears as the hyena grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, “you shouldn’t be eating all this stuff, it’ll make your tummy sore!” 

Somehow, your baby-talk voice just serves to make Sputnik even giddier, and she eagerly licks at the tips of your fingers. Nikto almost rolls his eyes at the little heart eyes the animal is subjecting you to. It’s impressive, really, how she can remember someone is a friend from only a single interaction.  

When you snap back from your babying of the animal, you quickly refocus. “Hyenas have very powerful jaws, and they love to chew things, so if she doesn’t have enough to keep her entertained then she’ll find something to destroy.”  

“She was given an old tyre a few weeks ago, but it only lasted a few days.” To say he was deeply unimpressed with how quickly she’d torn it to pieces would be an understatement. He knew that Sputnik had quite the bite on her, but to chomp through nine millimetres of rubber like it’s cardboard? Impressive, if a little annoying.  

“How big is your freezer?” you abruptly ask him, and Nikto suddenly worries where this line of questioning is going. Does he need to check the trunk of your car? Regardless, he offers you a nod.  

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together, making Sputnik jump excitedly at the sudden sound, “it’s supposed to be quite hot tomorrow, so I can think of at least one idea for her.” You start listing out what the two of you are going to do rapid-fire with the same confidence and efficiency of any commanding officer.  

You’re in your element, your passion for your work clear as day and you have him following your every instruction. You’re like a fount of knowledge when it comes to anything and everything husbandry related, suggesting changes to Sputnik’s diet, new toys to keep her entertained, and ways to prevent her from destroying anything she really shouldn’t be messing with.  

When you finally end up leaving, it’s long past sundown. Sputnik has grown bored of watching the two of you working in the shed and has retired to her massive dog bed for a nap, so the two of you have been working in comfortable silence. He’s glad you don’t feel the need to fill the air with irritating chatter, only offering corrections here and there.  

He escorts you to back to your truck, closing your door behind you once you’re settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. You roll down the window and offer him a grin, but he can see just how tired you are given how your eyes are slightly drooped. “How much do we owe?” he asks, quickly tearing his gaze from your sweet smile.  

Little wrinkles appear across your forehead as your lips turn downward, an innocent, confused look on your face, “owe you?” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead just huffs in mild amusement, “payment, for your work.” 

Your eyes light up in understanding and you laugh, “oh, no, don’t worry about that,” you wave him off, “I’m just happy to help out.” You just smile up at him, as if you can’t see anything wrong with what you just said.  

Nikto is forced to remind himself that you’re a civilian, not another untrustworthy operator. Not everyone does things purely for the pay they’ll be rewarded with, even if the very thought of not giving you something in return makes him uncomfortable. He holds his hand out to you, “phone.”  

You blink at him for a second, but quickly do as you’re told, just like the good girl you are. He goes into your contacts and adds his number and details, hitting save the moment he’s done. He doesn’t bother adding a picture, passing your phone back to you, “call us when you require assistance.” He waits until you offer him a nod before he steps back from the side of the car.  

You have an odd, flustered look on your face for some reason, but you’re quick to snap out of whatever daze you're in and give him a quick wave as you put your truck into reverse. He watches silently as you disappear back down the driveway and into the steadily darkening evening, waiting until you’re out of sight.  

Sputnik is absolutely delighted the following morning when Nikto presents her with her blood and peanut butter ice block.

-

Translations

“да,” - “Yes” 

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” - “I didn't know you were such a drama queen,”  

“место!” - “Stay!” 

“Спутник!” - “Sputnik!” 

“ко мне!” - “Come!”  

[moirasdolly]

would you be willing to do JQ with a chubby femme reader who is insecure about it, and perhaps doesn’t realize that Dez is attracted to her because she feels like someone that looks like Dez would never find her attractive? sorry if that’s too specific, just having a hard time with self image lately 🩷

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Plush ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟJunker Queen x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Dez shows you just how perfect you are <3

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), body image issues, hurt and comfort

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Mine - Slayyter

Notes: As a chubby femme girlie myself, writing this soothed my soul ( ◜‿◝ )♡ I know Dez would loveeee chubby girls!! Our bodies, and every body is beautiful, never forget that my loves <3 P.S. I wrote this on my phone so sorry in advance about any mistake TT, I read over it and tried to catch anything noticeable, but there may be something I missed.

You hummed softly to yourself as you made your way to where your girlfriend’s meetings were being held. It had been a long few hours since she had been called in to discuss Junkertown’s future and changes that were just begging to be made, and you brought it upon yourself to make lunch for her, it was the least you could do after everything she’s done for you. You were privy to easy access into the building since Dez had made that extra clear to those who had given you trouble last time, the guards swore they didn’t know you were the queen’s beloved, but they weren’t let off easy. You were sure Dez chewed their heads off about it, but she spared you the details. An almost silent giggle slipped past your lips as you remembered the look on the guards faces as she pulled you closer to her and peppered your soft cheeks with dozens of kisses before pulling you with her past the guards.

You were snapped out of your fond little memory when you heard several high pitched, shrill giggles echoing throughout the halls. The giggles were accompanied by a voice you knew all too well, one that belonged to Dez. You slowed down before you could make your presence known and you peered through the door, curious. There were at least four girls, all thin and toned, surrounding your girlfriend. It was clear to anybody who had eyes that Dez was attractive, and apparently the women practically hanging off of her had noticed too. She didn’t seem to be entertaining their antics, but you still couldn’t help but feel hurt.

Suddenly the stockings you were wearing were too tight around your thighs, your favorite little shorts felt too revealing, and too much of your stomach was showing in the shirt you had picked out that morning. Every fiber of your body felt like you weren’t good enough for her. You didn’t know why she chose you when she could have had any other woman in Junkertown, any woman in the world and you felt like she had just… settled for you. You tugged at your shirt gently, starting to feel anxiety about your body crashing down on you.

Your legs moved on their own and carried you away from her office, away from the giggles of those who you viewed as better than you, and abandoned her lunch in the trash on your way out. The guards shared a look but didn’t question you about it, instead bidding you a good rest of your day. You shot them a halfhearted smile, it was really the best you could do, before making your walk back home.

You didn’t want to cry, but crystalline tears began to trickle down your blushed cheeks and down your chin. You wiped your eyes gently as you kept your head down the whole way home, practically counting the seconds until you could just curl up in bed and isolate yourself.

The moment you stepped through the door a small sob racked through your body, then another, and another. Soon you were inconsolable, not that there was anyone to even console you in the first place. Your friends were at work, and your girlfriend was busy being ogled at by girls who were just jumping at the chance to get with her. You buried your face in your pillow and cried your heart out. You felt pathetic for being affected like this but you just didn’t get why Dez would ever pick you.

Her body was so perfect… dreamy muscles that subtly flexed whenever she picked up anything heavy, a waist that you loved to wrap your arms around, and thighs that were sculpted by the gods. Every inch of her was beautiful and the complete opposite of you. You were soft and plush from head to toe, and Dez always made sure to let you know how much she loved your body, but sometimes you weren’t so sure if she meant it. You had no reason to doubt her, but on days like this it’s all you could think about.

-

Your day dragged on and dread filled your body as the clock ticked closer to Dez coming home. She always made it home on time, it was one of the things you loved most about her, but today you had wished you had a few more moments alone before having to face your beloved.

A sigh pushed past your plump lips as you rose to your feet to change into something less revealing. You settled for a large lounge shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts Dez had gotten you. You felt sick even wearing something that showed your legs, but you didn’t want Dez to worry or ask questions. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel bad about your own silly problems.

You were too busy living inside your own head to hear the heavy footsteps of her boots against the hardwood floors. It was only until she appeared in your shared bedroom that you noticed her. Her face softened once she saw you on the bed and quickly made her way to you to plant a kiss on your cheek. You smiled as best as you could as she left a faint mark of dark lipstick on your soft cheeks. The hands that she had planted firmly on your shoulders crept down to your waist and you made a noise of discomfort. It came out louder than you expected, and you stiffened up as Dez quickly removed her hands from your body. “Angel, did I do somethin’ wrong?” Her voice was sincere as ever.

Your lip quivered slightly as you shook your head no, but if Dez was anything, she was observant. “Don’t give me that crap, angel. Tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.” She had situated herself next to you on the bed, but still gave you the space you needed.

“It’s nothing, seriously Dez…” You trail off. You were fidgeting with your fingers when Dez’s hand eclipsed your own and pulled both of your hands to her lips to press a gentle kiss. You peered up at her and when your eyes met she didn’t say anything, she just gave you the time you needed to talk when you were ready. She brought your hands back down to your lap, but she held onto them, stroking her thumb gently over your fingers.

“Why did you choose me?” You huff out, letting your emotions get the better of you. Dez let out a chuckle, not quite sure what you meant. “Because I love ya’!” She said as if it was the most obvious reason. You frowned at her words, she didn’t get what you were asking. “No, I mean what is there to love about me? I’m sure there were other women jumping for an opportunity to be with you. Women who look better than me…” You mumbled the last part, ashamed to even say it.

Dez’s face contorted into one that almost looked like anger and you thought you had really messed up. “What brought this thought upon ya’?” She questioned, and you recalled the moment you saw the women in her office and frowned at the thought. “I came by to drop off your lunch today, and it seemed like you were having a great time with those women in your office.” You may have sounded bitter, but you were over the conversation. You just wanted to go to sleep and forget about the day.

Your girlfriend’s eyes searched yours to see if you were serious and when you furrowed your brows at her it was clear to her you had misunderstood the situation. “I’m afraid ya’ got the wrong idea, angel face. Sure they were making moves on me, but I shut them down, none of them compared to ya’.” You hummed at her explanation, “But why were they even there?” You still didn’t understand how a meeting on Junkertown’s future turned into a fan meeting for your girlfriend. “Those good for nothing guards let ‘em in. They said they were here for a meetin’ with me.” Dez held your hands firmly as she explained her side of the story and she was so sincere that there was no doubt in your mind she was telling the truth.

“I promise to ya’ I had them escorted out when they pushed my boundaries.” Dez scooted closer to you and in no time you were pulled onto her lap. She was so warm and inviting that you couldn’t help but nuzzle into her. “None of them even compared to ya’, my own personal angel.” Your silence filled the room and she shook her head softly. “Don’t tell me ya’ don’t view yourself the same.” Her hands were planted firmly on your plush thighs, rubbing little circles into your skin.

“I’m not like them Dez…” You mumble into her neck as her hands snake up to your soft waist. “I’m not skinny, petite, or light…” You began to shift off of her lap, but her strong hands were quicker as they tugged you back onto her lap. Your thighs splayed over hers and she held you impossibly close. “And?” She spoke into your ear, leaving a soft kiss on your neck. “I don’t know, why can’t I just feel perfect?” You sniffled softly as tears welled up in your eyes.

“I’m going to show ya’ how much I love you, how perfect ya’ are.” She lifted you and placed your back against the mattress like you were feather light. She slid to the end of the bed and trailed gentle kisses up your legs to your thick thighs. “Look at how beautiful your thighs are, fuckin’ perfect when they wrap around my head.” Her rough hands kneaded your flesh and they parted slightly for her to do whatever she pleased with them. She lifted them to rest on her broad shoulders and she kissed the soft skin of your inner thighs. She kissed back down to your knees before laying your legs back onto the bed. You whined softly and she just chuckled, “Don’t worry angel, we’ll get there.”

She remained slotted between your thighs but made her way up to your soft tummy to press kisses over your shirt. “May I?” She motioned to your shirt and you nodded carefully after a moment. She lifted your shirt up to expose your tummy to her and she planted her hands back on your waist before kissing up your stomach to your chest. “God I can’t get enough of ya’…” She mumbled in between kisses. You squirmed around as she kissed all over your body and finally up to your face.

Your legs wrapped worked her as she cupped your cheeks and captured your lips into a kiss much more passionate than the one she planted on your cheek earlier. You whined into the kiss and tightened your legs around her, pulling her closer. The kiss was getting more intense by the second, but she broke the kiss reluctantly to let both of you catch a breath. “Angel face, you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve laid eyes on. Nothin’ will change that.” Her thumb absentmindedly caressed your cheek as she spoke, “Your body is my favorite, fuckin’ love it, and you.” You nodded slowly, her words finally sticking with you.

“Thank you Dez…” You gave her a real smile this time and she couldn’t help but pepper your face with little kisses. Your giggles rang out in the room and by the time she was done attacking you with kisses you were breathless from all the laughing you had been doing. The two of you locked eyes and Dez thought you looked like the prettiest girl alive, your cheeks blushed from the affection and a pretty smile resting on your lips. She wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.

You wrapped your arms around her neck to pull her closer and her lips twitched up into a smile before closing the distance once more. This kiss was much shorter though as your lips moved in sync, Dez’s fingers slipped in between your thighs and pawed at your clit through your soaked shorts and panties. You gasped at the slight friction and broke the kiss to whine out her name. It seemed as if she didn’t want to tease you either because she pushed your panties aside and easily slipped into your glistening folds. “So easy… S’good for me.” Her raspy voice called out.

You tried to squeeze your thighs around her hand but you were stopped by her body between your legs. Lewd, melodic moans flowed from your mouth as she pleasured you endlessly, knowing all the right spots that would make you sing for her.

You came hard and fast, but she showed no signs of stopping and you were writhing against the mattress as she pressed into you. “Perfect… Just like that, angel.”

Her fingers were milking you for all you were worth and after a long night of multiple orgasms, Dez promised mercy on you if you repeated after her. “Say it.” Her tone left no room for arguments, so the words tumbled right out of your lips. “Perfect… ‘M perfect Dez.” You whined out and after pulling one more orgasm out of you her fingers slipped out of you gently. You sighed at the sudden loss, but you were too tired to even react. “Damn right you’re perfect, love.” She kissed your stomach softly before letting her head rest softly on you. You ran your fingers through her unruly blue hair as your breathing returned to normal.

The two of you just laid together, her head resting on your tummy as she let you calm down. “I sure love this, but I reckon we get ya’ cleaned up.” Dez spoke from her position on you and you giggled before nodding your head with a hum. “Yes please.” You say softly and as Dez rose to her feet she brought you with her, holding you like you were a princess in her arms. “I’ll take care of ya’ don’t worry, my angel.” She had effectively swept you off your feet and you wouldn’t ask for a partner better than her. There would be days where you didn’t feel quite good enough, but Dez would be there to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

[asterias-record-shop]

LISTEN, OKAY FOR BINGO, IMAGINE DAVE LIZEWSKI WITH THE GLORY HOLE BINGO AND THE 25TH PROMPT

—𓆩[i love cherries]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - College AU! Frat Boy! Dave Lizewski x Fem! Sex Worker! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.4K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Dave wasn’t sure how he got into a fraternity, especially not one of the biggest at the university, but he went along with it. What he wasn’t prepared for was initiation, where everyone found out he was a virgin and were determined to make his first time something special.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || more mature themes || college setting || OC frat boy characters with the addition of Todd || not really kick-ass set but like he could still have powers I don’t really get into detail with that || Dave is so innocent but like not-? || he isn’t a fuck boy just a frat boy || bitchy! reader || you’re a masters student now || you also have a distinct mark on your thigh || maybe kinda BJ Alex inspired slightly? Just the differentiating mark || age difference, three years (Dave - 20, you - 23) || smut || glory hole || public sex || private hole in the wall if that makes sense? || the frat guys like reserve you for the night if that makes sense || still public though, abandoned park in the woods || virginity loss (Dave) || oral || multiple orgasms || squirting || multiple rounds || unprotected sex || degradation and praise || derogatory terms used ||

Dave really liked college so far. He was pulled into a frat somehow, probably after he got this new ripped body and got dragged into sports by Todd. It made him think that Todd was the one living vicariously through him, but that didn’t really matter to Dave much.

To be honest, he was excited. He had finally gotten the attention of girls, something he had always wanted, just not from the girl he wanted it to be from. You, a girl he met in his advanced class where he was stuck with students pursuing masters while he was barely walking into college, never gave him the time of day. You were beautiful, so fucking beautiful, and it truly did surprise him when he learned you weren’t in a sorority. He wanted to be a cute couple, a frat boy and a sorority girl, but it was okay. Dave wanted to date you either way, really date you.

No one understood why though, especially Dave himself. He knew some of the older frat guys had tried to sleep with you, and from what he heard, you always turned them down. It was a mystery why he had a massive crush on you, probably because he had major issues to be attracted to a girl who was a real bitch to quite literally everyone. A lot of people thought you were a bitch, but maybe that’s what happened when you didn’t lie.

You kept secrets, yes, but you never lied.

Dave loved sitting next to you in the class he was stuck in, some course he hated but only stayed in because it boosted his GPA and he got to sit next to you. It was an early class, so while everyone else was asleep, you were awake and looking absolutely perfect. You wore skirts often, always had your makeup done, and always smelled so good. Dave didn’t know how you got up and did all of this, he truly did applaud you for it knowing damn well he had a fucked up sleep schedule and always fell asleep for a minute in class.

He laid his head down on the desk, behind his laptop as he turned his head to watch you, your outfit today black. Your skirt was a dark black with a line of white on the hem, knee high black boots and a sweater protecting you from the slight chilliness outside. For fucks sake, you were fucking beautiful. The thing that made your look though, something that you never failed to have in class was a lollipop.

It was bright red as you twirled it in your mouth, another already ready to go when you finished the one in your mouth, cherry flavored and staining your lips and tongue. Your perfume corresponded to the lollipop flavor, strong and tangy, fruity but spicy and absolutely filling his mind with thoughts.

He liked the fact you stuck with cherry - did your room smell like cherries too? What about your chapstick, was it cherry too? What else did you have that was cherry based?

And as you crossed your legs, fixing your skirt so it didn’t ride up, he saw it. Oh, he had to hold back a moan at the cherry tattoo on your thigh, red and comical and just perfect.

He watched as you shifted again, eyes about to flash to him before he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep making you scoff. He kept his eyes closed, not risking you seeing that he was absolutely ogling you, and resulted in himself falling actually asleep.

“Hey,” a voice says, strong and confident but perfectly sweet as someone shakes his shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Dave groaned lowly, peeking out from the safety of his arms and almost falling out of his chair when he saw you.

You jumped, gasping as Dave moved frantically. “Dude, I was just trying to tell you that class is over and you can go sleep at home. For fucks sake, it was like you were waking up from a nightmare, are you okay?”

He nodded, swallowing loudly. “N-No, I’m okay. Sorry.”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Don’t be sorry, there’s no point. I was just waking you up. Anyways, you better get studying, we have a midterm next week.”

Dave nodded slightly, swallowing as he grabbed his laptop and started packing as you tried to push in your chair, struggling when it got caught in Dave’s. “G-Give me a minute, I’ll get up and I’ll fix it. Thank you for waking me up.”

You smiled slightly, nodding. “Thank you. Here,” you paused, grabbing a sticky note pack from your backpack side pocket and a pen. “My number. Call me if you need the notes from class, I can give them to you.”

Dave paused, shaking his head. “That’s not fair. I don’t have anything to give you in return, I sleep through class like every day. I don’t mean to, but it’s just so fucking boring.”

His words make you giggle as you start walking away, pausing with a slight turn. “You coming?”

Dave rushed to follow after you, watching as you started to giggle again. “Seriously though, is there anything I can give you, or?”

You hummed, thinking as you walked, your steps making a perfect line as though you were taking a sobriety test and your hips swaying. Oh, you walked like a runway model, truly just perfect. “You can buy me breakfast. Daily.”

Dave smiled, nodding. “Whatever you say…” he left the spot open for your name as you laughed.

“Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you,” you stopped, offering your hand. “This is my class. You have my number, call me, okay?”

Dave smiled and took your hand, shaking firmly as you giggled and walked into your next class, Dave standing there and staring for a little before someone slapped his back. “Hey, newbie! Ready for your initiation tonight?”

He recognized Landon’s voice, turning slightly with a shrug. “Yeah, I think so. What do you guys even do, anyways?”

He laughed. “You won’t know until you get there! To be honest, it’s nothing bad, you chose the right frat man. Just a chant and some swearing or whatever, besides, you’re already bonded with us. Tomorrow, we’ll have a party and you’ll get laid by some of the hottest girls on campus! Who knows, maybe more than one. Heard Heather got her eye on you.”

Dave’s nose scrunches at the thought of sleeping with someone other than you. You had some sort of effect on him these past few weeks, and to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what you did to him and why he was like this, but it wasn’t something he was complaining about. “I’m not really… interested in her.”

Landon paused, raising a brow. “You’re not interested in Heather?”

“No,” he shook his head, looking back at the room you went into. “Not at all.”

Landon paused. “Oh. Oh! You’re into Y/N! You like older women, don’t ya?”

Dave blushed, sighing. “I just… I don’t know what it is about her man.”

He laughed. “Nah, there ain’t nothing ‘bout her man, she’s just fucking hot man. Beautiful, she smells so fucking good, for fucks sake. Everyone loves her at the frat, man… she’s like a little rough around the edges, but she warms up quick.”

Dave hummed. Everyone loved you?

“She never slept with any of us, though,” he quickly filled in, shrugging. “She has a strict rule about sleeping with people. Don’t know what it is, but if the boys listen to anything, it’s a woman. We know consent. Anyways, I have to talk to you real quick.”

“Okay.”

“So Todd was joking around that you were a virgin?” Landon laughs. “Oh my goodness, you have to get back at him-”

“Oh, he wasn’t joking,” Dave filled in. “I'm a virgin.”

Landon paused. “Oh no. No, never in the history of this house had anyone who was a virgin join this house. You know what,” he paused, taking out his phone. “Don’t lose your virginity. Initiation is moved to tomorrow, we’ll make something special.”

It wasn’t until Dave was dragged to the middle of the woods - blindfolded because of course that wasn’t a horrible idea - did he regret wanting to join a frat. Who needed to be in a frat?

They finally made him stop, giving him a firm slap to his back. “We’re here!”

“Where is here?”

“Oh,” Landon laughed as he took off the blindfold, putting out his hands. “Ta da!”

Dave blinked slightly, shaking his head as he looked around. It was a park, one of those with that climbing wall with holes, pausing when he saw a pair of legs out of one of them. “This is Glory Park. Anytime our frat needs a glory hole, this is where we come. It’s like… a monthly thing, mainly before big tests and what not. We always get one girl, her name’s Cherry, she’s always got the sweetest cunt. And, she has no limits, so we can get a little rough with her. Nothing too extreme, though, we respect her. But tonight,” he sighed dramatically. “Tonight is Cherry’s last night doing this kind of work, and she’s all yours. She’s already stretched out and everything”

Dave gulped as he stared at the legs covered by a pretty skirt, swallowing. “I-I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Landon paused, tilting his head. “Why?”

He sputtered, shaking his head as he looked at the form. “B-Because she’s like not even looking at me!”

Oh, but then he paused. He saw that same cherry tattoo you had on your thigh, mouth going dry. “Wh-What was her name again?”

Landon grinned. “Cherry. You like cherries, Dave?”

He nodded automatically, head bobbing. “I love cherries.”

Landon laughed, walking toward him with a slap on his back. “The remote to open the hole is over there if she gets uncomfortable. You can’t keep going if she gets uncomfortable, she has an emergency button on her side, and a guard close by too. The hole will automatically open as soon as the sun rises, so you got all night. Besides, you got a couple of stacks right on the ground for her. She charges extra for kinks and shit.”

Dave smiled, nodding slightly as Landon patted his back. “Have fun.”

“W-Wait,” Dave said, turning to Landon. “Y’know we’re in public, right?”

Landon laughed, shaking his head. “You got all the privacy in the world here, man. Go get her.”

He slowly walked over, staring at the high six-inch heels on your feet and the high waisted skirt on your lower tummy. He could see the slight sliver of your skin, his palms slowly circling the sides of your thighs before settling on the cherry tattoo on the side of your thigh. “I-I uhm… I’m Dave.”

He could hear you giggle, his hands trailing over the plush skin of your thighs as he lifted up your skirt. “Y-You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his hands slowly trailing over your panties. Oh, he had to make you wet before fucking you, even if you were already stretched. “C-Can you talk?”

He watched as you pushed your hands through the hole, clenching your fingers in a way to ask for money. Dave nodded quickly, inhaling deeply. “Y-Yeah, right.”

Dave reached down, grabbing the stack of hundreds and fifties. “H-How much?”

You raise two fingers, Dave grabbing two hundred and slipping it into your hand. “Th-That lasts for the whole time? You talking?”

“It was supposed to be twenty,” you giggled, pushing our hand through. ���Not two hundred.”

“Just keep it,” Dave said, shaking his head. “You’ll keep talking, right?”

He heard you hum. “Yes, I will. I’m sorry, normally they don’t ask me to talk… I’ve never really thought about someone wanting me to talk, and normally girls like me… don’t talk while this happens.”

“I want you to,” Dave whispered, slowly lifting up your skirt and pulling down your pretty black satin panties, a gasp leaving your mouth as the cold air brushed against your cunt, the sound of him dropping to his knees making you shiver. “I want to hear every single noise you make. I-Is this okay? I can do this, right? I want to hear you say yes, I need your permission.”

Your eyes rolled back, nodding. “Y-Yes, you can, you can. I need you.”

You tilted your head back, the platform supporting your back cold but soft doing nothing for the growing heat in your stomach as you bucked your hips. You had never done anything like this before with someone like Dave, someone you actually really like. “D-Dave,” you whisper, gasping as his tongue slowly trailed over the slit of your cunt. You didn’t even realize that you said his name until his mouth softly latched against your clit, lips puckering and kissing against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “O-Oh, my fuck.”

Dave hummed as he lets his spit gather on your clit, watching it dribble down your slit before licking his saliva flat onto your perfectly pretty cunt. “How’d you know my name?”

His voice made your eyes widen, a loud moan falling from your lips as his tongue flicked against your clit and his fingers slid into you. He could tell you were stretched so that it didn’t hurt you, but it was pleasure filled and perfect as you moaned loudly, unable to even answer his question before you started to ride against his fingers. “Come on darling, you can tell me… come on, come on.”

He was egging you on, every flick of his tongue making a shock spark up your spine, eyes rolling back as his fingers slowly curled inside of you and bumped right against that perfect spot that had your legs hooking around his head and pulling him closer. The loud groan that fell from his lips made your hips buck into his mouth, his tongue easily sliding down your cunt and focusing where his fingers were knuckle deep. You could hear the wet, lewd sounds filling the silence of the woods, echoing as your fingers attempted to dig into the plastic.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty and so fucking sweet,” he whispered, loud slurping noise making you gasp as he continued to work his fingers into you to pull another orgasm out of you. The slight mustache he developed over the year scratching against your sensitive cunt making a loud groan fall from your lips. “You have another one for me, right? Come on, give me some more.”

Your eyes rolled back, oh when his voice was like that, high pitched and slightly whiny as he begged for another was something you loved, but this was different. His voice was smooth and strong, egging you on with every roll of his fingers and pop of his mouth against your cunt, every slight scratch of his mustache, a groan falling from your lips again as you started to roll into his fingers.

“Your name’s Cherry?” He says, a smirk evident on his lips as he felt your heels settle on his back. “Right?”

You whimper out a yes, gasping as the tip of his tongue pushed inside of you with his fingers, your toes curling in your heels as they dig into his shirt. Oh, you wanted to see him, to watch him go down on you over and over again. “A-Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

He laughed, pulling his tongue out to spit into your already soaked cunt. “Are my skills mind blowing? Orgasm causing?”

You laughed. “No, nevermind. You talk like a virgin.”

He laughed as he curled his fingers, an action making you gasp as your stomach tightened and you came again, the orgasm shocking as your vision blurred - eyes crossing as your thighs tightened around his head, letting out another strangled moan. Dave laughed, pushing his fingers almost impossibly deeper inside of you, his other hand going to your clit.

“A virgin that’s making a whore like you cum over and over again. How many times do you think I can make you cum in the next ten minutes? Do you want to find out, hm? Or do you want me to fuck you like a whore?” He laughed as his hand started rubbing hard, rough circles as his mouth moved to suck and spit into your cunt. “Answer me.”

“J-Just do what you want!” You never really had a choice in moments like these, but the thought of him asking made you want to see him even more.

“I want to do what you want me to do, Y/N.”

Oh you couldn’t hold back the scream that fell from your mouth, eyes rolling back as your stomach starts to clench, gasping as his hand gets rougher. You knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to force you to squirt. The thought made your stomach twist, pleasure filling your entire body – he was the only person who focused on your pleasure quite literally in all of your sex life, especially like this.

“Almost there, baby, I know you are… you know I’ll take care of you, Y/N, come on!” He continued to egg you on, a gasp falling from your lips as you screamed out, eyes rolling back as your stomach clenched, the feeling of it unclenching making you sigh in relief before moaning loudly as he curled his fingers inside of you and a laugh fell from his lips. Your legs go limp around his shoulder, his tongue licking at your clit before he stands up. “Felt good, honey? Are you ready?”

You inhaled shakily, struggling to keep your eyes open. You had felt better in these past ten minutes than any of the hours you had spent with any other man. “How’d you know?”

Dave paused, sighing softly. “I-I saw your tattoo… earlier today. I-I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, but I needed your permission, a-and it’s worse because I can’t even see you.”

You hummed, moving your leg to press against his abdomen. “You’re talking like a virgin again, Dave.”

He laughed as he held your legs, letting your heels fall against his shoulders as he kissed your ankle firmly. “Well, I am. I-I… don’t know what it is about you, I want… I want to do so much with you, and not just sex. P-Please… is there a way I can see you? If you even want to see me?”

Your hand immediately moved to your emergency button that opened the hole, quickly pushing the top off and sitting up. “My phone is in the bag hidden in the hole of that tree. The emergency button pings my guard, I need to tell him nothing is wrong.”

Dave rushed over, grabbing your bag as you kicked off the panties that were stuck on your heel. Running back over, the curly haired man gave you your bag as you grabbed your phone, quickly calling Lionel your guard. “Lionel, nothing is wrong. I just… wanted to see his face.”

Lionel started panting, cursing. “You scared me. So it was him, right? The pretty boy you got a crush on?”

“Good bye, Lionel!” You hung up as Dave laughed, kissing softly against your neck as you set down your phone.

“You have a crush on me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you respond, gasping as his hands push your legs apart and he starts to unzip your pants. “D-David-”

“If you don’t want me to do this, tell me now,” he whispers, pulling away to give you a slight smile. “If I do anything you’re not comfortable with, tell me-”

“Cherry,” you whisper, smiling as you push your hands to the back of his neck. “Our safeword will forever be cherry.”

“Whatever you say,” he whispers back, smiling as he leaned down for another soft kiss. “Is there anything you know you don’t like? Anything you want me to do?”

“I don’t let people cum inside,” you whisper, but start to lay back before lifting your legs to settle over his shoulders, his hands immediately going down to hold your thighs and support you. “But I want you to.”

He inhaled sharply as you lifted up your upper body just to take off your shirt, humming as you tilted your head. “You want my bra off too?”

“Y-Yes.”

You giggled, lifting yourself up once again to take off your bra as he swallowed. “You’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

He laughed. “N-Not in real life.”

You giggle as he slowly starts to pump his cock, hissing as you push your hand to slowly wrap your manicured hand on his shaft. “You want me to do it?”

He nodded, sighing in pleasure as you started to pump him. “Y-Yes please.”

You sit up a bit, the angle slightly uncomfortable as you pull his cock into you, eyes rolling back. Dave’s cock wasn’t what you expected, the perfect middle ground between lengthy and girthy. You moaned loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as he rolled his hips. “D-David-”

“I want… I want to finish it, can I please?” He whispered, the egging in his voice no longer there, his tone now high pitched and whiny. “Please?”

“Yes, finish,” you whispered, going back to laying on the platform as he held your thighs more securely now, pulling you closer as he thrusted his hips forward, roughly this time. You were still sensitive from your three orgasms, your legs twitching as you put your arms behind your head, the cold feeling of the air against your nipples only stimulating your already pleasure filled body more. “Fuck, fuck David.”

He merely grunts softly, letting out a loud groan as his thrusts started to get more composed, hard but perfect in a way you couldn’t describe. You felt your toes curling once again, every thrust making your body bounce as his cock rammed in and out of you. You could feel your stomach twisting and clenching, easily being pushed to the edge all over again after your first three orgasms again.

You could feel your stomach burning, every thrust he did making the bulging veins of his cock rub against your walls, his pelvis slapping into your clit somehow heightening the experience. “Look at me, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, groaning as he slammed his hips forward. “I know you’re about to cum, baby, don’t look away from me. I want to see it, I want to see you get pushed over that edge.”

His hand firmly settled on the tattoo on the side of your thigh, a loud groan of his name making him let out a strangled moan. The sounds leaving his mouth were like those you had never heard, animalistic and obsessed, his eyes dark as he stared down at you. He looked so perfect in the halo of moonlight surrounding him, staring down at you like you were the only thing he could think of – which was true, you were the only thing on his mind.

He was thinking about everything he was feeling, your tight cunt clamped down on his cock, your hands gripping his wrists in a way that he loved, your pretty eyes never looking away from his. Your perfect lips he hadn’t even been able to kiss all day.

He moved your legs to wrap around his waist, leaning down to brush his lips softly against yours, his hips never stopping their rhythmic thrusts that made moans fall from your lips with every movement. “I want to kiss you… can I kiss you?”

You nodded frantically, desperate. It was a horrible feeling that you couldn’t describe, the desperateness that was settling in your tummy to have him, all of him. His lips pressing to yours firmly, his perfect soft lips against yours tipping you over the edge as your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist and pulled him balls deep inside of you. He choked against your lips, your hips automatically starting to roll into his. Dave let out an almost whine like noise, hips rutting unconsciously, harder into you as he groaned.

You could feel him cum inside of you, hot and sticky but filling, every thrust he made pushing his cum deeper inside of you, your hands cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. “Dave, I don’t… I don’t know why, but you are literally the man I’ve felt the most at ease with… in my whole life,” you whisper, gasping as he rutted his hips unconsciously. “David!”

“I-I’m sorry!” He says, shaking his head. “I-I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You have to take me out on a date. You have to.”

“I-I will,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I will take you on so many dates and I’ll make you feel better than anyone else. Physically… and emotionally.”

You smiled. “I guess it’s good that you love cherries.”

He laughed. “I fucking love cherries. Especially if they’re on you.”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

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© asterias-record-shop

[cosmicjoke]

Levi is What Historia Pretended to Be

One of the things that the fairly prevalent claims I see about Levi "forcing" Historia to become Queen, or "forcing" her to accept eating Zeke, or just the general complaints I see about how Levi "treated" Historia, gets me to thinking is how Levi is everything Historia only pretended to be.

When we first meet Historia, she's going by the name Krista, and she presents a personality and image which, on its surface, appears to be exceptionally selfless and compassionate. She's constantly asking after others, going out of her way to inquire as to their well-being, standing up for them and seemingly sacrificing her own comfort and self-interest to their benefit. But, in the same way we eventually learn that Krista isn't her real name, we also come to find that Historia's personality is just as much a facade as her false name. We get our first exposure of the selfish and self-serving girl underneath during the scene between her and Ymir, during their training exercise through the mountains in winter, when Ymir calls Historia out for her secretly selfish behavior. Historia tells Ymir to go ahead by herself to base camp, while she carries Daz by herself, and Ymir points out that if Historia really wanted to save Daz, she would have asked Ymir for help, since Ymir was stronger, and thus had a greater chance of saving Daz than herself. But she doesn't ask for help, because she wants Ymir to tell people about about her selfless, final act, sacrificing her life to save another's. Here we see exposed for the first time Historia's willingness to sacrifice others for her own, selfish gain. She pretends to want to save Daz's life, but in reality, she sees him as an acceptable sacrifice for her own glorification.

Of course, this is all wrapped up in Historia's childhood trauma and the feelings of rejection she faced from her mother, tied in with what Frieda told her about how to ingratiate herself to others by being a "good person". But the fact remains, Historia is exceedingly selfish, and we get our first glimpse of that selfishness here. Something that she herself at last admits to in the scene with Eren, in the underground cavern beneath the Reiss family compound. She calls herself "the worst girl in the world" as she finally casts off all pretense in trying to win her family's approval and love, rejecting her father's offer and embracing her own, selfish desires. She tells Eren that she doesn't care if all of humanity perishes, something that we come to realize is foreshadowing, when Historia's selfishness culminates in her standing by and doing nothing to stop Eren's genocidal plans, simply because it allows her to continue living.

I think Historia and Levi are a perfect study in contrast precisely because there are some similarities between the two of them in terms of their childhood's and trauma.

Both experienced abandonment and rejection as children. Historia by her mother, Levi by Kenny. Both, I think, suffer from fear of abandonment and this pervasive sense within them that they were abandoned due to some lacking quality in themselves. We see this with Levi in him questioning Kenny about why he left him, and later, in his comment to Armin about how if he sleep's any longer than he already has, they'll all forget he even exists. We see how both Levi and Historia's sense of self-worth is wrapped up in this idea of being useful to others. How their lives will only be of worth if they're able to somehow be of benefit to others.

But while Historia's abandonment issues manifested in her pretending to be a good and selfless person who, in truth, only "helped" others so long as it benefited her somehow, and who's selfless acts served as cover for her self-serving desire to be accepted and loved, Levi's selflessness was never an act, and his desire to help others was never rooted in some secret scheme to get others to like or accept him. While Levi might feel he's of no worth to others unless he's useful to them in some way, that was never the actual motivation behind his selfless actions, never the motivating drive. I think Levi's low sense of self-worth, in fact, only serves to highlight the genuine quality of his selflessness, because he never uses his actions to win himself praise, even as, surely, he feels bereft of love or acceptance, the same as Historia.

I think this is most clearly demonstrated by the fact that Levi, in sharp contrast to Historia, never engaged in behavior that was designed to ingratiate him to others, and in fact, is markedly the opposite of that, often behaving in ways that serve only to win him people's ire and, at times, even repulses people from him. People see Levi as rude and cold-hearted and without feeling. They see him as uncharismatic and crude, and often display lowly opinions of him, or even disappointment upon meeting him. Zeke even comments on this, accusing Levi of being "unpopular" because of his blunt assertions about what sort of person Zeke is, accusing him of being a "know-it-all". We see other soldiers accuse Levi of being heartless, accuse him of getting other scouts killed, accuse him of being insane and a bad person, and Levi never fights these accusations, never defends himself. He accepts all of this criticism without complaint or personal offense, and without ever trying to convince anyone otherwise about his character. He's never tries to convince anyone he's a good person.

Where Historia had pretty much made an art of ingratiating herself to others, of wearing a mask of humility and generosity and kindness, fooling people into believing her to be all of those things, Levi has never been able to do the same, and further, he never tried, because, unlike Historia, whether he was well-liked or not was never something that mattered to him. It was never the underlying motivation of his selflessness or compassion. It doesn't matter to him what people think of him. What actually matters to him is helping them.

The fundamental difference between the two, then, is that Historia's selflessness was always an act, always a ruse to win her approval and acceptance, whereas Levi's selflessness always just was what it appeared to be. Actual selflessness, acts committed for no reason beyond the benefit they would have for others.

And we see that fundamental difference between the two demonstrated, also, by the fact that Historia is willing to let harm befall others, particularly, other people who never did her any harm or posed her any threat, so long as it benefits her in some way, (i.e. Daz, and the entire human population on earth) while Levi has never been willing to let harm befall anyone for any sort of self-gain, again, particularly, anyone who wasn't already threatening his life or the lives of others, and, in fact, often sacrifices his own well-being for the benefit of others.

It's just amusing to me how often people will criticize Levi for being "mean" to Historia, or how many people make the false claim that Levi forced Historia into any sort of position or burden that she hadn't already committed herself to previously, because Levi is everything Historia only ever pretended to be. He's selfless to an extreme fault, not only not seeking recognition or acknowledgment for his selfless acts, but outright rejecting it when he does receive it (i.e. Erwin trying to thank him for helping capture the Female Titan, Hitch trying to accuse Levi of thinking he's a hero, his disdain for his title as "Humanity's Strongest"). His compassion is such that he'll sacrifice his own comfort and peace of mind if it means easing the burden placed on the shoulders of others (letting Erwin die, giving Petra's patch to Dieter, torturing Sannes, killing for the sake of saving others lives...), his belief in the worth of other people's lives so powerful, that he actively seeks ways to ensure those lives are proven to have value by imbuing their loss with meaning, and is absolutely unable to abide the thought of anyone dying a meaningless death, his care for his comrades so immense, that he would destroy his own body to protect theirs. He has no dreams of his own, but instead dedicates himself fully to the dreams of others, fighting with all his strength toward that end, not to win acceptance or praise, but simply for the fact that he feels it's his obligation to help, a sense of obligation born out of a deep, inborn compassion.

Historia was always purely motivated by people liking her and seeing her as "good", her altruistic behavior and actions designed to garner her that image and acceptance, never out of any, genuine desire to help, and we see that core truth about her eventually manifest in her willingness to let so many innocent people die for her own life.

Levi, by contrast, was always okay with people hating him, with people thinking he's a lunatic or a monster, as long as it meant those same people would be okay, would be protected from having to experience the same horrors he had.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Jewel - Oct 11 - @rosekillermicrofic - 928 words - Warnings: none

It started sometime in October, when Barty wore a random sweater that Evan had never seen before. It was a lovely amber brown color, and it brought out the light brown tones in Barty’s hazel eyes beautifully. Evan couldn’t pay attention all through charms, his eyes kept finding the soft-looking sweater pulling around Barty’s shoulders.

Then, on the next Hogsmeade trip, Barty wore a brand new cloak. As he was putting it on, Barty explained that his mother had bought it for him as an extra gift after his father had forgotten his birthday for the fifth or sixth time. It was a beautiful, deep, sapphire blue, and it complimented Barty’s pale skin and dark hair wonderfully. Evan couldn’t take his eyes off of him for the entire trip to Hogsmeade.

The following week, Barty showed up to potions with a new set of dragon-hide gloves. These were one of his original birthday gifts from his mother, he explained, but Evan couldn’t focus on anything other than the turquoise leather perfectly outlining the lines of Barty’s fingers and hand. He ended up making Barty partner with Regulus, and attached himself to Dorcas, who sent him knowing looks while they brewed their potion.

At a Gryffindor party a few weeks later, Evan lost Barty for an hour or so. At these parties, they typically stuck by one another, since they were surrounded by a sea of garish red and gold, and Dorcas and Regulus made quick work of abandoning them for one of the Gryffindors (Regulus for James, Dorcas for Marlene). Pandora never came to the big parties, preferring to hang out in her common room with the other Revenclaws, having a quiet night in.

Barty finally showed up after an hour and a half, strolling down the stairs from the girls’ dorms in the Gryffindor common room, and Evan did a double take. Barty was wearing ruby red lipstick. Marlene and Dorcas were following him down the stairs, and Marlene was wearing the same shade of red lipstick, Dorcas sent Evan a wink. He was going to fucking kill them.

Barty made his way over to Evan. “What to do you think?” He asked, smacking together his ruby lips.

Evan had to will his mind not to go woefully blank so that he could come up with some kind of answer. “Very… red,” was what he finally said, and he could have hit himself in the head for the stupidity of his response.

“Yeah, that’s the shade,” Barty laughed awkwardly. “Do you like it?”

Did Evan like it? He more than bloody liked it. He wanted to see red marks all over himself, perfect little prints of Barty’s lips pressed all over his skin. But he didn’t say any of that. “Yeah, I like it. Brings out your eyes.”

Barty gave him a dazzling smile, settling on to the loveseat next to Evan. “Thanks, Rosie.”

Evan’s issue seeing Barty in certain colors continued well into the winter. Every new shade brought out something else about Barty that Evan couldn’t possibly ignore, and he was starting to be driven completely crazy. It felt as if Barty was specifically teasing him, except he couldn’t possibly know about Evan’s feelings for him (could he?).

The Yule Ball was scheduled for the last day of December before winter holidays, and Regulus and Pandora had goaded their whole friend group into attending. It was simple enough for Dorcas and Regulus, who already had dates in the form of their significant others. Barty and Evan had decided to go stag together, which Evan was simultaneously grateful for (he had negative interest in any of the girls attending Hogwarts) and horrified about (a whole night attached to Barty???).

Evan’s dress robes were brand new, bought for him by his parents with the Yule Ball in mind. He didn’t have a say in picking them out, though, and they were a dusky, boring charcoal grey. After he put them on, he looked down at himself morosely, and was grateful that he didn’t have someone he was trying to impress.

And then Barty left the bathroom, which he had commandeered to get himself ready. He was wearing dress robes in the most beautiful shade of emerald green. Evan’s mouth actually dropped open a little at the sight of him. He saw Barty in Slytherin green all the time, which was close to emerald, but more of a flat shade than the gorgeous jewel tone. The deep emerald was stunning against Barty’s pale skin and dark hair, the gold accents bringing out shades of gold in Barty’s eyes.

“How do I look?” Barty asked, and he was chewing his lip nervously.

Evan swallowed. “Barty, you look…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, which only made Barty more anxious.

“…What? Is it too much? I told mum it was too gaudy,” Barty fussed, going to turn back into the bathroom, presumably to change, but Evan reached out to grasp his wrist to stop him.

“No, Barty, you look breathtaking,” Evan breathed, and Barty turned back around with wide eyes. Evan couldn’t keep his bloody eyes away from Barty’s mouth — and he noticed a red tint. Barty was wearing a little of that fucking lipstick—

He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He surged forward, hands coming up to cup Barty’s face and pull it to his own for a searing kiss. Barty responded enthusiastically, moaning loudly and hands coming up to play with the buttons of Evan’s robes. They didn’t end up going to the Yule Ball after all.

[marymary-diva17]

In laws

neteyam x reader

When you had married your best friend neteyam and thought everything, was finally going well after many challenges getting in the way of your relationship. As the relationship neteyam was seen as something of forbidden love he was navi and you are human born on pandora, but not avatar body yet. That was not the only issues that was getting in the way of your relationship there was also the people around some love the relationship and others hated it. The biggest challenge was the in laws neteyam parents a challenging that you were still deal with to this day.

y/n " ummm"

neteyam " good morning my yanwe"

y/n " morning my husband" neteyam soon got out from the bed he was always a early raiser like his father Jake.

y/n " going scouting with your father again"

neteyam " yes he asked me if I wish to come and I agreed"

y/n " that wonderful wow I can't believe we have been mates for over five months now"

neteyam " five good months I owe praise to the great mother, for giving me a wonderful mate like you"

y/n " you are such a flirt" you soon pushed neteyam back a bit making the man laugh, as you soon started getting the home and yourself ready for the day.

y/n " I love our home it warm and beautiful"

neteyam " well we did make it with the help of my siblings and everyone else"

y/n " yes we owe them greatly"

neteyam " has norm given you any update on giving you and spider avatar bodies"

y/n " well they have been able to make one for me and spider after collect some dna samples for us and, using a formal from the old base and the RDA abandoned base they were able to get enough for us and everyone else"

neteyam " that wonderful ma y/n soon enough you can be navi and I will help you learn all the ways"

y/n " thank you" neteyam soon kissed your right check making you giggle and kiss him back as well, the two of you are a pair of love birds.

neteyam " I will be home for dinner but if anything change I will call you"

y/n " good and no need to rush back home I have enough stuff, family, and friends to keep me busy"

neteyam " that good to hear and if my dd invites us over to dinner will that be good for you"

y/n " yes they are now my family and we should be getting along"

neteyam " that why I love you"

????? " hey there you two" you and neteyam soon looked and saw Jake walking over with lo'ak, kiri, and spider in toe with him.

lo'ak " it seems like you two are getting along well"

y/n " well yes we are we were friends at first and now married together"

kiri " you two are a perfect couple because now I have another reason to call y/n my sister even more"

spider " hey if you can get into the clan so can I ...someday"

neteyam " don't worry you two soon everyone else will come around give them time"

y/n " yes brother don't worry everything will be fine"

spider " thank you sis" you and spider were not blood related but were raised together as siblings, by norm and tsu'tey who become your guys parents.

Jake " neteyam it right change it hard for the people but sooner or later they will come around and expect you two and the others as well"

y/n " thank you sir"

Jake " you don't have to call me sir anymore y/n we are family you can call me Jake"

y/n " yes Jake"

Jake " see oh here comes your father and dad"

tsu'tey "good morning everyone"

norm " yes good morning it seems like all of you are up where is tuk"

lo'ak " at home with mom"

norm " oh"

tsu'tey " so how is our young couple doing"

neteyam " we are doing well tsu'tey are you y/n"

y/n " yes we are five good months of marriage or being mates"

norm " that wonderful to hear"

Jake " well we will be leaving today will you girls be fine here today"

kiri " yes we can find something to keep ourselves entertained and busy I'm right y/n"

y/n " yes we can kiri"

neteyam " please no doing anything dangerous"

kiri " we make no said promise brother and who says you all get to have all the fun today"

spider " hey don't have that much fun without us"

y/n " we wouldn't"

Jake " come on you all can fight about this later we can't be late"

the boys " yes sir" you waved goodbye to the group with kiri as the two of you soon walked around the village carrying some empty baskets.

kiri " so it seems like mated life has been going well for you"

y/n " yes it has but there has been some problems in our relationship, that was there before and now"

kiri " my mother and the rest of the clan"

y/n " yes no matter what I do I think I will never have neytiri approval, or the clan approval they all hate me and think I stole neteyam away ... that my demon ways will brainwash him and doom the clan" you and kiri look at each other and soon fall out laughing,

kiri " they are all foolish there is no way you will bring doom to the clan, and same goes with spider and norm ... you three and the others have been here for us in these many years"

y/n " thank you"

kiri " my mother can be stubborn but I hope she does come around, because she can't hate you forever if you and neteyam plan for a family in the future and you two are bonded to be forever"

y/n " yes I hope she does come around but I will be nice and civil, as I wish to not cause any issues with the family"

tuk " kiri y/n" tuk soon came running towards you and kiri, she soon stopped when she reach the two of you.

y/n " hey tuk oh you are wearing that new top"

tuk " well you and kiri helped me make it and I felt like wearing it today"

kiri " it looks good on you baby sister our dear y/n has amazing weaving talent doesn't she"

tuk " yes she does"

y/n " aww you two are so nice" the three girls had laugh and smile before they went back to walking, soon reaching the field where fruit and herbs were grown with many other stuff as well.

mo'at " girls it good to see you out there today"

tuk " grandmother hello"

mo'at " hello sweetie y/n it good you are here I been meaning to have some more times to talk with you"

y/n " oh yes ma'am have I done something wrong"

mo'at " no I was wish to speak more with my grandson mate, as you are now apart of our family and have been doing well in the clan ... I'm proud of you"

y/n " thank you"

kiri " see grandmother see you are apart of the family and clan, you are seen by many"

mo'at " what the matter girls"

kiri " it seems like after her and neteyam become mates she still facing some issues with the clan"

mo'at " I'm sorry my dear it seems like I might need to have words with the people and my daughter"

tuk " how do you know it mom"

mo'at " I know my daughter well I will deal with the others I had deemed you and neteyam to be mates by my will and eywa will, if they wish to go against that then they are going against me and te great mother"

y/n " wow that taking it a step up"

mo'at " anything to make you and my grandson happy you are one of eywa children no matter what my daughter and the people have to say" you had nodded your head mo'at had left the three girls alone as she was needed back at the village, you are enjoying your time with kiri and tuk.

tuk " I hope I can find love like you and neteyam y/n"

y/n " don't worry tuk you will find love one day"

kiri " I think I rather stay single all my life verse being with someone"

y/n " that good as well do what you want"

????? " you" all three of them had gotten spoked when they heard neytiri voice, she soon made her way towards the three girl and she looked mad.

tuk " mom"

neytiri " not now tuk I need to speak with her"

kiri " mom what the matter"

neytiri " this girl since she was very young has been looking for a way to get into the family and clan, and now that she her she had turned your brother against me and your grandmother .... the once harmony we had in our clan has been ruined"

kiri " mom that not her fault"

neytiri " so you are blaming me for what is happening to our family, when it all her fault you ruined my son life and now you are ruing my family soon enough the clan"

y/n " neytiri with all respect your son and I really love each other"

neytiri " that false love you two will never have a family he need a proper women from the clan and I'm not the only one who think that ... he was meant to be with ninat daughter but you came and ruined everything" neytiri was not backing down as she was looking at you with hate in her eyes and voice.

tuk " mom you are being mean to y/n she our family and we love her, and no matter what the future has for her and big brother they will be happy"

kiri " yes mom what if they have kids what will you do about your grandchildren"

neytiri " that is foolish no way you and my son will never have children and if that does happen I pray to eywa that, are like my son and nothing like you I don't want demon blood on my family"

navi " yes we don't need demon blood or demon children in our clan"

navi 2 " our future oloeythan should be with someone else we have better women then her"

navi 3 " her and all the other demons are ruining our lives with their stuff and way of life, we will be better off if they stay away"

y/n " so no matter what I do you will never expect me neytiri and the same goes for the rest" the silence from neytiri and everyone else proved you right.

y/n " my future children will either get love or hate from you and everyone else ... well neytiri if I do have children I pray to eywa and anything else I have the willing power and strength to keep them happy and love .... I will make sure none on destroy them with their words and looks I have been given"

neytiri " one day my son will see the light and error of his way, and if there are kids I hope he take them far away from you and others like you"

y/n " we will see if that happens but it good to know who will in my future kids lives now before they come into this world" you soon stormed off grabbing you basket as tuk ran after you and kiri standing, to scold her mother before she came as well. The two of them stayed with you at your home as you try to control your emotions, and keep you company until neteyam comes back.

Later that day

y/n " ........"

tuk " y/n don't give mom the time of day she being rude towards you and many others"

y/n " I know but I'm just tried"

neteyam " y/n" soon neteyam came came dashing into the home and looked at you. He soon was followed by everyone else who were not standing at the entrance of the home.

kiri " she very upset about what mom had said to her"

Jake " what happened girls" the three girls had informed the group of what happened and to say no on was happy will be understatement. Jake look so disappointed about the whole situation as he was looking at his son and you.

Jake " right now there will be no major conflict with neytiri I will speak mo'at and we will deal with her, I will also make sure to have some words with her as well"

neteyam " thank you father I will have some words with her tomorrow, after I rest my nerves as I wish not to say anything bad to her"

Jake " I understand"

lo'ak " why don't we stay ...."

Jake " son I know you had good intentions right now but I think it best if we leave neteyam and y/n together you can spend time with her tomorrow, they will need to talk about what will happen in thier future"

lo'ak " yes sir" norm and tsu'tey hugged their daughter before they left, leaving the coupe alone as neteyam was comforting a sad and tried y/n. Everyone was upset about the situation and soon the event of today had been shared with the other humans, and they were not happy as well they felt bad for you.

neteyam " form tonight on I will keep you safe and I will keep our future family safe as well"

y/n " thank you and I'm sorry I tried I really did ..."

neteyam " it okay I understand" neteyam held you close that night he was upset with his mother, and was going to deal with her later on. He was going to keep true to his promise and make sure no one else, hurts his mate again even if that means cut some people out of his life.

[reidsrambles]

Something More and Second Chances

Chapter 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader // Second chance

Description: You're stunned when your former friends with benefits shows up at your new job—and nearly a decade after you ghosted him. It turns out, he works in the same building, and he definitely hasn't forgotten about you. Will your apologies be enough? What happens if he does forgive you? Does time truly heal all wounds? (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, friends with benefits, oral sex (F receiving), PIV sex, condomless sex, IUD birth control, mention of abortion (in the context of being on the same page prior to sex), riding, soft dom M, praise kink F.

This fic is quite emotionally heavy, and both Spencer and Reader delve deep into past traumas. None is current. If any of these topics may be triggering or upsetting to you, please skip this one: child abuse, child abandonment, attachment issues, foster care, adoption, CPS, bullying, trust issues, mental health issues, misunderstandings, ghosting, and Reader mentions that she possibly committed emotional infidelity in the past, thinking about Spencer while with another partner.

Names used: Baby, good girl

Words (this chapter): 4,638

Words (total): 12,462

Spencer… a fed? Law enforcement is the last career you would’ve expected Spencer Reid to end up in. Researcher? Yes. Professor? Yes. He mentioned nothing about the FBI. He never seemed to have an interest in policing. Without the gun at his hip, you would have mistaken him for IT coming to fix that one printer that’s been broken all week. Is he even allowed to shoot that thing? Well, he wouldn’t be in this building with that badge otherwise.

Walking into the quaint coffee shop in the late evening—one of the few non-chain shops in your neighborhood that stays open late—you’re glad that you picked the location. It’s familiar. It’s safe. 

You greet the lone barista as you walk to the table Spencer has secured in the far corner. Steven always works the night shift.

“Hey,” you whisper as you walk up to the table. Any louder would be inappropriate given how silent the cafe is. The only other customers are a group of college kids on their laptops up front.

“I got you a black tea. I hope that’s alright,” he says, gesturing to it. “You used to drink black tea like it was water, so I figured it was a safe bet.” 

“A safe bet, indeed.” 

As you take your seat across from him, you mindlessly dip the tip of your pinky into your tea to check the temperature, finding it to be near perfect. The small bead of tea spreads between your lips as you place the finger against them, sucking it away. Spencer looks at you, biting his cheek to suppress a smirk.

You roll your eyes at him with playful exasperation. “Sorry, I know you always hated when I did that! I know you have your whole germ thing.”He laughs, throwing his hands up to proclaim his innocence. “It’s just funny, all the little habits that haven’t changed over the years. You used to do that with every tea I’d buy you.”

“Well, how else am I supposed to check the temperature!?”

Laughing, he says, “By feeling how much heat is radiating off it, like a normal person? And, I’ll have you know, my ‘whole germ thing’ has gotten a lot better since college!”

With only a few sentences between you, you’ve already fallen into comfortable back-and-forth, again. 

“But a recent study did find that there are an average of over a hundred and fifty bacterial species on the palm of the hand. The underside of the fingernail would presumably harbor even more bacteria.”

“On the plus side, I don’t get sick very often.”

He laughs his adorable, infectious giggle, and for a moment, all is right in the world. For a moment, all you can think about is being under the covers with a 21-year-old Spencer, cuddling and laughing about whatever movie you’re not paying any mind to. He was always more interesting. His mind and body; both, a frequent fascination of yours.

Spencer clears his throat. “So, do you live around here? Is that why you picked this place?”

“Yeah. I moved here after I finished my English Lit degree. I got my MLIS at Strayer. Having my rent grandfathered in is the only reason I can afford to live in Arlington.” You take a sip of your tea, realizing that you’ve already been neglecting it. The temperature is utterly perfect now. A blink lasts a beat too long as you savor the taste and the warmth of it. 

“Do you live in Quantico?” you ask. “I hope the drive wasn’t too bad. I probably should have asked instead of just picking a place. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“I live in the East End of D.C., actually,” he winces. “The long commute isn’t ideal, but it was only a 14 minute drive here, at least.”

“Oh, good. That’s not too bad.”

You should say more. You should start apologizing. Just say anything of any substance. But staring down at your tea, you just want to take a long sip to avoid having to say anything for even a few seconds longer.

Spencer shifts in his seat. Your lips feel so dry. Would it make it even more awkward if you ruffled around in your purse for your lip chap? 

You throw your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to gather the strength to have this conversation, as if you haven’t had it a million times already in your head over the years. 

“Sorry,” you breathe “I know what I need to say, but I’m just procrastinating.”

“Do you want me to…?”

Spencer’s always been rather direct. You aren’t even sure what he could be alluding to, but you don’t give it more than a second’s thought before you start.

“Where to begin?” you ask yourself aloud, trying to maintain your poise. “Let’s start with my mom, I guess. Remember when you met my mom, because she came into town for the weekend as a surprise?”

He nods. “She showed up that one evening while we were eating dinner.”

By that point, a few months after meeting him, the lines of your relationship with Spencer were already pretty blurred, and he was staying the night more regularly. It was just more convenient that way, you’d told yourself. You didn’t want to kick him out in the middle of the night after fucking him, and it wasn’t like you absolutely hated having him around, or anything.

“So, you met one of my moms. I have two.” You rapid-fire, wanting to get as much as possible out at once. “They’re married. Neither of them is a biological parent, though. I don’t remember either of my biological parents. I was adopted when I was 7, but I was in foster care for 3 years before that. Apparently, CPS workers didn’t find me in the best environment when they came to pick me up.”

The building you survived in for the first years of your life wasn’t a home; Calling it a house would’ve been a stretch too. The situation was downright neglectful. It was abusive. You were only a child, dirtied by the filth of your environment. Marks in shades of red and yellow and purple dotted your body. 

Every sentence is difficult to get out, but you’ve worked to unbury the details of your early life for years. It's not like you'll ever completely heal from that, but you’re more at peace with your origin story than you’ve ever been. Still, every time you’ve shared the stories of your childhood, you’ve had to fight the icky feelings that arise.

You swallow hard, looking down at your hands as you mindlessly pick at the skin around your nails. “Okay, it was really bad. My biological parents were really, really abusive, and my foster mom said it amazed her that I survived it.”

In your peripheral vision, you can see that he’s resting his chin against clasped hands, subtly nodding as he processes the bomb you just dropped. You’ll look anywhere except directly at him. You’ve gotten a lot better at opening up, but you feel like crawling out of your own skin when someone gives you a pitying look. 

“Do you know what my job is at the FBI?” Spencer asks.

“No, but I know you carry a gun, so that limits the possibilities.”

“I’m a profiler in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” 

Now it’s your turn to nod and listen.

“I’ve combed through every memory that I have from those eight months more times than I probably should have. Y/N, I know that I don’t need to tell you what childhood attachment trauma is.” 

Spencer leans back slightly in his chair, his mug clutched between his hands. Though nobody is in the vicinity, he speaks in a hushed voice as he continues. 

“We had a case in recent years where a young girl was murdering the parents of her school bullies.” He tips his head to the side, his raised eyebrows emphasizing his words. “And she had a number of bullies.”

Spencer’s soft, warm tone contrasts his story.

“The local PD probably should have made the connections sooner, but it was a small town. Everyone went to the same elementary, middle, and high schools, so all the victims having kids at the same school wasn’t a factor they even considered until we brought it up. It was one of the first things I noticed when I read the case file.”

“Spencer, are you judging their detective work?”

Your face quickly falls flat. Why the hell would you crack a joke when he’s detailing such a horrific case? Shit.

“It’s hard not to when the patterns they miss are so clear and lives are lost due to their incompetence.”

You can’t even begin to imagine what Spencer sees and deals with at work. You notice—whether because of that realization or to the cafe’s dim lighting, you aren’t sure—that Spencer’s skin is rougher than it used to be. Small, barely noticeable scars mark his body. His boyish glow has faded, replaced by an air of perpetual exhaustion. 

“Anyway,” he says, “as we profiled and uncovered more about this girl’s life, I kept being reminded of little things you did or said that I never paid any mind to.” He brings the mug to his lips, drawing back a sip. He licks the moisture from his lips. “Her parents were fully cooperative. When we brought them in, they described how horrifically abusive her childhood was before her adoption. Her birth parents were in jail for the neglect.”

You push down the memory of the time your biological mother tried to call you from federal prison. How she got that call approved, you’ll never know, but you can only imagine that she paid someone off or slept with them. 

“Her mom said she’d always had trust issues,” Spencer continues. “She used to hide anything that was meaningful to her, even from her own parents. She would wake up in the middle of the night in a panic at least a few times a week. When she’d make a friend at school, she’d sabotage the relationship. As soon as she’d start succeeding academically, her grades would worsen.” 

He could keep listing things, but when his eyes meet yours, the deer-in-headlights look you must have going on makes your recognition clear to him.

“So during that case, you realized that away from you because of my attachment trauma?”

“Well, I didn’t know for sure, obviously, but it became the top contender of my theories.”

A pang of guilt rings through your chest that Spencer has wasted any thought for you since you left, let alone to the extent of multiple theories as to your disappearance. It’s hypocritical to feel guilty, though, when you’ve regularly wondered how he is, stopping short of looking him up or reaching out. You knew he’d be accomplishing exceptional things, but digging into his life would have just made the guilt even worse. It took years before you didn’t feel nauseous anytime he entered your thoughts. 

“Well, now you know, I guess.”

The sense of feeling wholly too well-read is bringing your inner younger, vulnerable self out, causing a prickling heat to bite behind your eyes. You take a moment to practice your calming strategies, mentally repeating your affirmations of safety, and taking deep belly breaths to calm yourself. The pressure in your chest subsides. The warmth drains from your face.

Again, Spencer waits, altogether unphased. You aren’t sure how many seconds pass, but you know from experience that your tone and body language would have clearly read as guarded and closed-off to the layperson, let alone a profiler.

“Sorry about that.”

Sternly, but absent of anger, he says, “There’s nothing to apologize for, and you know that.”

You do.

“I almost forgot that you were never one for forced pleasantries,” you joke.

He simply lifts the corner of his mouth in a half-smile, re-searing the memory of tracing that one dimple into your brain.

“Can you tell me what you felt when you began to shut down?” he asks. “Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

Without missing a beat, you say, “I felt like I needed to crawl into a shell; like my chest was hardening into a plate of steel to protect myself.” 

You didn’t need to reflect on what you felt, because you’ve felt it so many times and used those exact descriptors with numerous doctors and therapists.

“But I’m sure you already know that,” you say.

Spencer sets his mug down on the table again, not letting go of it as he adjusts to sit forward, forearms against the table.

“Thank you for sharing all of that with me,” he says softly. 

“I mean, I kind of owe it to you after what I did.”

He looks up at you from the table, a twinge of concern painting his face. “First, you never owe anyone that information. Secondly, you do know that how things ended between us isn’t entirely on you, right?”

When you just sit there, growing more confused as to what he could be referring to, he continues. 

“You had a lot going on in your head at that time—that, I was well aware of—and instead of just asking you about it, I clung onto you like a leech. Are you forgetting how many times in a day I’d call you? How many emails I sent you? How often I bugged you to come over?”

Honestly, you had forgotten, until now; until he spelled out those exact memories again. For so long, you didn’t want to think about that time in your life at all. Every memory of Spencer was thrown into a box and locked away in some corner of your head. 

“Y/N, neither of us knew how to effectively communicate our feelings. We were friends first, and then we started hooking up. When you proposed a,” he air quotes with his fingers “‘friends with benefits arrangement’, I agreed, knowing that I was going to fall for you. I knew I wouldn’t be able to shut my feelings off, so I chose to shove them down instead because I didn’t want to lose you being a part of my life.”

“And then I left…” you nod.

He lowers his head. “I just assumed that I had pushed you away.”

“Spencer, I’m so sorry that I made you feel that.”

“I’ve come to realize over the years that there are many reasons, most of them having nothing to do with you, that I jumped to that conclusion. I’ve always been made to feel like an annoyance or an inconvenience. Teachers, peers, coworkers. You were the first person in my life, besides my mom, who asked me to talk more. To share more. You listened to me, Y/N.” His eyes soften and the corner of his mouth upturns into a forlorn smile. “I’m sure that my dad leaving so early in my life didn’t help my clinginess and sensitivity to rejection, either.” 

He blows out a long sigh, as if deflating his lungs will soothe the emotional wound he just jabbed.

He’s so much more confident and mature now. It’s oddly comforting to know that he’s still fighting his own insecurities and self-doubt. 

“Spencer, I was never annoyed by you. Not once. In my mind, everything that went wrong between us was because I realized that I was in love with you, too. I self-sabotaged because I didn’t know how to have a secure relationship with anyone, not even my own moms. 

“When I was a teenager, I was downright verbally abusive towards them. I was a horrible child, angry at everything and everyone. My parents never wavered, though. They truly loved me unconditionally and always told me so. And I still treated them like shit because I was terrified that if I let myself feel entirely safe with them, they’d leave me. If my own flesh and blood couldn’t love me, how could they?”

This is the most you’ve opened up to anyone, let alone all at once. 

“I truly apologized to them for the first time at 24 years old, and that was only after I got myself into therapy. The therapy I had as a kid didn’t do much. I was too volatile; downright hostile sometimes. I’m amazed my parents never institutionalized me,” you quip. 

Spencer doesn’t laugh or smile or at all react to your half-assed self-deprecation. 

He removes his hands from his mug and slides them ever-so-slightly forward on the small table. Subtle enough that an onlooker wouldn’t notice, but you do. 

You want to touch him again. That much, you know for sure. With your tea gone, your hands feel frigid, and, though it’s probably in your head, you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

Before you can think yourself into a spiral, you push the fear of rejection down and embrace the trust in him that you’ve found tonight. Sliding forward a few inches, Spencer’s waiting hands take yours. 

Your eyes flutter a moment—from the soothing heat of his hands wrapped around yours or the shock of the contact, you aren’t sure.

He doesn’t comment on the temperature of your hands. He just softly rubs them, the gesture causing your brain to go blank. It feels so right.

“What’s going through your head?” he asks.

Your hands tense with a jerk at his question, and he loosens his grasp, allowing you to pull them back if you need to.

Looking into his eyes, you still don’t sense any judgement or hesitation. No apprehension or alarm at your jumpiness. 

As you relax again, Spencer resumes the soothing rubs.

“Did you know that this is the most I’ve opened up to anyone in a long time?” Your chin dips with a wistful smile, and Spencer lightly squeezes your hands in response.

You continue with another question that doesn’t require a response. “Did you also know that you were my only friend in college?” 

Spencer smiles softly and laughs. “Ditto.”

“I actually have a really good group of friends now, and it’s something I’m really proud of. It took a lot of self-reflection and a lot of inner work to allow myself to be honest with them. I got really lucky, and I found some incredible people who supported me, knowing how difficult it is for me to share. They embraced me with open arms whenever I opened up, a little at a time.”

Your voice, a mixture of hope and sadness, thickens as you speak. “I’ve thought a lot about what my life could have looked like if I had been able to trust you; if I could have let you in and not shut you out.”

Spencer responds, “I studied psychology, and it wasn’t until working with the BAU that I actually started to really understand people’s behavior. Even still, being personally involved in a situation blinds us to the things that are easily observed in hindsight. You couldn’t have fully trusted me back then, regardless of how much you wanted to, and we both know that.”

“I just want you to know that I do take responsibility for the way I left you. I don’t want this to come across as some sob-story excuse,” you frown.

Spencer huffs out a soft laugh.

“Isn’t it kind of ironic that we both thought that we were the reason things ended between us? Y/N, if it helps to hear it, then I forgive you for anything you did back then. But I don’t think you need forgiving. At least, not from me. We were both 21. Of course, we’d do things differently if we could go back. We often tell victims suffering from survivor’s guilt that they did the best that they could with the resources they had at the time.”

That sentiment resonates with you a lot. It’s also applicable to basically every guilt-laden memory from your youth. You were dealing with a lot. You were surviving, but you never hurt anyone on purpose. 

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You fight the urge to ask what for, choosing to accept his gratitude instead.

The kids have gone home for the night; when, you don’t know. You don’t glance at your watch, but it must be about ten. Usually, you’d be crawling into bed around this time. With the lights dimmed, you’d be flipping through a book, occasionally getting so absorbed in it that you forget about the tea to your side. 

You’re familiar with how quiet it gets in here at this time of night, especially on a weeknight. In college, you were downing so much late-night coffee in here, especially around exam season, that they started to regularly slide you an extra one, on the house. But this silence is heavy. 

The weight of the guilt you’ve carried for so many years is gone, and everything that you came here to say has been said. This silence should be calming, but it’s crushing. 

Speaking now is like taking a sledgehammer to a sheet of plate glass, but the longer you wait, the worse it’ll get. “Are you—” you blurt out.

At the same time, Spencer says something that you don’t make out, before he cuts himself off with a fumble.

You apologize, wishing you had never even started, but Spencer insists.

“No, please. You go first.”

You pull your hands from his, crossing your arms in front of your body.

Again, unable to meet his eyes, you ask, “I just figured I’d shift to a lighter topic and ask if you were seeing anyone these days? That’s all it was.” 

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you add, “Sorry, that was probably way too forward—”

“Y/N, I’ve been single for a long time,” he laughs. “One-night stands aren’t a particularly desirable concept. I went on some dates, but none of them developed into anything.”

“Really?”

“You act surprised.”

“I am.”

“What about you?” Spencer asks. “Are you seeing anyone?”

His voice is slightly huskier and free of any gaiety. You haven’t heard his voice like this since… probably since that morning you left. It stirs you at your core. The conversation is innocuous enough, but your body says otherwise.

"I’ve, uh, been single for about three years now? I just haven’t had the energy to put into going out and meeting people. I’m not 21 anymore. Bars and clubs aren’t really my scene. I did one speed-dating event, but it was a disaster.”

“How so?”

“I was the youngest one there, and all the guys were over 40. As you’d expect, none of them had any tact about it, even if I had been considering a fifteen year, plus age-gap relationship. Which, to be clear, I wasn’t.”

Spencer tries to suppress a laugh, and you follow suit. 

“Maybe I just picked the wrong event,” you add, “but it definitely turned me off of ever doing a speed-dating event again. I wore a low-cut top and a push-up bra that day, and the percentage of men who commented on my ‘nice rack’ was above half.”

It’s nice to be joking and laughing with him again. Even though you’re wearing the same modest long-sleeve turtleneck you wore to work and Spencer’s firmly keeping his eyes above shoulder-height, you can sense the attention you’ve drawn to your chest. But you want him to look. You want him to touch you again. 

Memories of sleeping with Spencer have faded with time, but having him in front of you, in the flesh, again has brought some clarity back.

Memories of his soft, hot mouth sucking at one nipple while his fingers pinched and rolled the other one. His hands are rougher now, but you can remember that hand trailing down your bare stomach, the featherlight touch of his fingers causing you to ache with anticipation. Those eyes. Seeing that hazel brings back memories of Spencer’s face, begging you to let him cum. It was your favorite way to see him; feeling so good that he was pleading for a release. 

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

Well, that’s fucking embarrassing.

“Sorry, yeah. I was just a bit distracted.”

A smirk crawls up his face. “Oh, am I boring you!?”

“No, of course not!” you quickly spit out. “I’m sorry. That was so rude to just check out like that.”

The glimmer of laughter in his eyes and the grin lighting up his face only add fuel to the fire of your desire. 

Shit. You actually want to fuck him again, don’t you?

 “No, I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have teased you about it. What was on your mind?”

Are you really going to do this? This is probably your best shot, right? 

With a slightly lowered voice, eyes locked on his, you say, “You, Spencer.”

He seems… surprised? A bit startled, maybe? 

You grasp on to the fleeting bravado, trying to avoid letting any embarrassment cross your face. The ball is in his court now. A blush blooms beneath your skin, heating your cheeks and chest. The hand in your lap is shaking, so you clasp your hands together under the table, squeezing as tight as you can.

You’ve come onto guys for hookups before, but this isn’t just flirting with a random guy at some bar to try to take him home. This is saying, “II’ve shown you all the ugly parts of me and of my life. Do you still want me? Because I want you.”

When the initial shock wears off, Spencer blows out a puff of air and runs a hand through his hair.

His eyes aren’t returning to yours yet, though, and he hasn’t said a word. Have you been reading him wrong? Maybe he was just being friendly? Is he unattracted to you now? Maybe it’s deeper than any of that. You already broke his heart once, and then, while apologizing, you explained just how messy your life is. Not exactly boner material.

Trying to keep your tone steady and failing, you add, “It’s totally cool if you don’t feel the same way, just so you know. My feelings won’t be hurt.” Lie. “I literally just dumped all of my trauma on you, so this was probably poor timing on my part. I just thought you should know that I’m still very much attracted to you.”

This turtleneck feels like it’s choking you. You bring your hand up to the collar and scratch underneath the fabric, trying to free yourself of at least one excruciatingly uncomfortable sensation.

You shake your head. Unable to bear it any longer, you say, “I’m sorry. We can just talk about—”

“Y/N…”

Your heart stops and every muscle in your body freezes in place. You catch his knuckles white, then flushed pink as he releases a clenched fist on the tabletop. He straightens again and leans closer to you, over the table. 

His face is closer to yours than it has been all day. His gaze finally lifts from the table; first to your lips, then to your eyes, before falling back to your lips.

His lip quivers as he opens his mouth. Speaking barely above a whisper, pain tinges his voice. “I need to touch you.”

Besides being more turned on than you thought possible while sitting in a cafe, the sheer relief of not being rejected further emboldens you, fueling your next question. 

“Do you want to come home with me?”

Not taking his eyes off of your lips, he asks, “Just to clarify, you mean—”

Leaning in, you cut him off and whisper, “Yes, Spencer, for sex.”

He swallows hard and nods dumbly, eyes still firmly planted on your mouth. 

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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[snakeautistic]

I love finding characters I can relate (/project onto) within media. There’s something so comforting about seeing yourself on screen. I end up headcanoning most of them to be in-line with my identities (lesbian, wasian, autistic) because they are literally me in my head!!

Anyway here’s a long ass list of my favorite characters and why I head canon them as autistic for fun!! If you have any others you’d like to add I’d love to hear them. (And please note this is just my interpretation, and highly based on my experience with autism. I’m not saying they’re definitely autistic or that all the traits I listed are the dsm-5 criteria or something.)

Princess Bubblgeum from adventure time:

This girl is peak evil scientist autistic. Her intense need for control, the way she carefully observes the citizens she created, an outsider to them, not quite like them… god it’s so perfect. I read her as being somewhat low empathy as well, it’s hard for her to change her perspective to that of others. Plus the fact her brother neddy is a pretty obvious metaphor for higher supports needs autism. I think they of represent how autism runs in the family and appears in all sorts of different ways in different people. They’re sort of two different representations of the spectrum.

Marcy wu from amphibia

I mean this one is just obvious. The biggest nerd of all time. So obsessed with her RPG special interest that she literally sucks her and her friends into a fantasy world. She’s clumsy (just like me fr), very smart but super socially awkward, a little oblivious and naive. She’s terrified of change, especially if it means abandoning the few social bonds she’s been able to make. I honestly find it hard to believe this wasn’t intentional.

Entrapta from she-ra

Another pretty overt example. I do have some issues with how she was portrayed in the show- (keeping her on a leash was weird.) but overall I really love her. She understands her tech, not people, and it can cause her to come into conflict with other characters. Their treatment of her makes me sad at times, but it’s realistic. I also love some of her other quirks, her love of tiny food, her exitable demeanor, ect.

Pearl from Steven Universe

Peridot is the more obvious example of an autistic character in SU, and while I agree she’s coded that way, I personally resonate more with Pearl. She is not very socially aware, and bothered by disruptions to her routine/ broader life changes. She doesn’t like to break rules (despite being a literal rebel lol.) I find it interesting how she seems to have the poorest understanding of life on earth out of the gems, despite having lived here for thousands of years. She is graceful, but has an almost sort of awkward gangly-ness to her that I relate to. Her neuroticism is also very similar to how my anxiety disorder presents.

Pearl has a tendency to infodump, without realizing those around her are uninterested. Even her relationship with Rose struck a chord with me. The hopeless devotion to her, the way she followed along at her side. It’s how many of my friendships have been. Obvious it’s not exactly the same considering Pearl having originally been her servant, but while not being an explicitly autistic trait, that sort of clingy, starstruck relationship is something autistic people are prone to developing. She does little hand stims at times too that I love to see.

Poison Ivy (specifically the version in the Harley Quinn animated show)

I’m surprised I haven’t seen more people mention poison Ivy. Fiercely intelligent and deeply introverted, she isolates herself from all people, and only connects with and understands her plants. (Which her deep affinity for can definitely be read as a special interest.) She very overtly has trouble forming relationships with others.

She’s blunt, socially awkward and a loner, has something of a flat effect and a monotone voice. Those around her initially read her as cold and impersonable.Her struggle with social anxiety as well as intense fear of failure/ low self esteem is also very relatable to me. She also often struggles to express/understand her feelings and emotions. Her radical political ideas and the fact that she’s literally an ecoterrorist paints her as having a very strong sense of justice and a somewhat black and white worldview. (Me)

Finally, her relationship with Harley just SCREAMS neurodivergent solidarity. Harley Quinn is (I think canonically) adhd, and they’re both outsiders in the world that found each other and just… get each other. She’s Ivy’s closest and only friend and amazing girlfriend and god it’s all so perfect.

They remind me a lot of the relationship I have with my best friend with adhd except theirs is gayer.

[cam24fan]

Unpopular pjo opinion but Rick Riordan is really not that good at writing female characters.

Everyone praises Annabeth's writing yet in Canon her abandonment issues were reduced to a stupid jealousy plot line and never resolved because heaven forbid her relationship with the male mc is jeopardized. Percabeth has no right to be considered the 'perfect' book relationship if them getting together hinges on Annabeth's character arc being entirely ignored for 'cute' ship moments like her getting jealous of Hazel(??). Heroes of Olympus would have been the perfect series to explore Annabeth's perfectionism and insecurities, and perhaps unpack her unhealthy fixation on Luke, but nooo everything's totally fine because she's with Percy now. Not to mention, her treatment of Rachel was unfair yet this is never questioned and she never faces any consequences for it.

I mean in my opinion other pjo girls like Hazel or Piper definitely get the short end of the stick, but I really want to highlight how bad Riordan's writing must be if the deuteragonist of his books does not even have a well-rounded resolution to her character arc.