#but like... a lot of things are clearer if i look at her with the idea that maybe she was dealing with all of this too
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Haven’t seen enough people talking about why timebomb and specifically ekko also suffered from arcane s2 being bad. Spoilers and crit
I’ll say more in depth later when I have gone back and revisited it with a clearer head and let me make it entirely clear I LIKE timebomb in concept. Much like caitvi. Like I see the vision I just don’t like a lot of the creative choices
Ekko in s1 was a REVOLUTIONARY he built the firelights w his own two hands and was sort of a foil to jinx and silco, he hated them but he wasn’t going to roll over to piltover either. He wanted independence but not through exploitation. He was a leader and a caretaker and mature beyond his years bc he was forced to be. And he hates Jinx bc she reminds him of that trauma and he’s betrayed by what she became like there’s SO much there look at it
In s2 he goes “hm my tree is being weird” and then gets sucked into the timey wimey thing and disappears for a whole act and the firelights aren’t even MENTIONED (and ik he wasn’t a major character in s1 either but like, he was still important and relevant to the plot throughout bc of the firelights?)
Then he gets sucked into this au portal (cool concept and cool execution) and falls in love with powder or whatever. And she ISNT JINX. SHE IS NOT THE JINX WE KNOW BC JINX IN MAIN TIMELINE IS FULLY BUILT FROM HER EXPERIENCES AND TRAUMA AND MENTAL ILLNESS. Like what Jayce said to viktor that’s part of her whether it hurts her or not. Her trauma doesn’t define her but it’s a part of her! And then all of a sudden Ekko’s sad bc he misses jinx (who iirc last time he met they had the whole I hate you and I miss you talk and they fought and both thought the other dead or whatever?) and then he’s talking her off the ledge even though he has absolutely no reason to! Because he DOESNT KNOW HER he knows literally nothing she’s done since s1 finale!!! Even the “jinx as a symbol for revolution” stuff from act 1 that went nowhere he would know NOTHING ABOUT bc he basically immediately went to Jayce? And they never did the revolutionary jinx stuff that was implied w the flag waving either so there’s no connection there either
Like a full episode was spent developing timebomb and it was interesting but also contributed nothing bc that is not jinx. She just feels like a mpdg and he doesn’t feel like ekko bc he needs to be in love w her for the plot? So they do absolutely nothing interesting they could for timebomb and still make it the entirety of ekko’s plot while tossing out the firelights and the zaun v. Piltover plotline as a whole
i mean again its hard to say bc this is right. objectively. like the stuff w timebomb was objectively well written. i just feel like it doesnt give ekko the space to be his own character outside of the ship? my point isnt that the stuff was poorly written i actually enjoyed it a lot and i think they did a good job w it i just also feel like it does ekko a disservice to have that be his only plotline and how it doesnt feel like it connects to his character in s1
i feel similarly about other plots in s2, like mel's. like yes this is good stuff! i love seeing mel in the spotlight the black rose magic stuff is interesting in a vacuum but also its totally separate from the interesting thematic roles in s1 that dealt with AGAIN THE CLASS CONFLICT AND POLITICS and dropping that for something different feels. like its a disservice to the characters, i guess?
also by having the timebomb development take place primarily in an au with powder and NOT jinx we dont really get to see jinx's thoughts at all. it feels like a repeat of s1 where someone is trying to save POWDER and not jinx, they dont see her as who she is now but rather who she was or could have been. which couldve been interesting to explore but they clearly werent interested in that ANYWAYS
#tidethought#arcane critical#anti timebomb#<- not actually I like them in concept I just think s2 was bad and s2 being bad impacted them#If this shows up in main tags I’m SO sorry not my intent
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I finished the TV show so here is the Dresden Files/Dresden Files crossover fic I have been revolving in my head and am unlikely to ever write in full
Starts with Book!Harry (around White Night? certainly pre-Changes), having a nightmare about fighting Justin -- but in the dream Justin is somehow his uncle and also killed his father
He wakes up and is like "that was weird"
Continues with him going about his daily life but feeling a lot of weird disorientation at weird moments
He has split seconds where he doesn't recognize his friends and loved ones, he walks past the Beetle while looking for his car... little things keep taking him by surprise when they should be normal
He consults with Bob about it (also very disorienting) and Bob suggests it could either be a magical influence OR a possible brain injury
It DOES seem to be decreasing over time, though, so Harry doesn't get around to an MRI or magical equivalent...
And then he gets a call from Murphy that there's a weirdo with a sword at the SI offices who wants Harry. Please get him out of her space, Harry
He shows up. There is, in fact, a man with a sword who says he's Morgan. He's not. More importantly, he's holding a skull, and this fills Harry with a visceral urge to get the skull back from him even though he's never seen it before
A second man materializes out of the skull. At that point, Harry's brain just whites out, because someone inside it, who isn't him, has just leapt into control in order to go "Bob??" with his voice
There is some degree of turmoil and drawn weapons all around
Eventually they straighten things out enough to realize that, surprise! Chicago's favorite wizard PI currently has TWO Harry Dresdens in his head for the price of one
Somebody was trying to toss TV!Harry's soul into the outer darkness, but he slipped sideways and ended up in another universe. Was drawn to Book!Harry's body as the closest thing to his own, and Book!Harry's been getting bleedover from his mind/memories
...However. The bleedover has been getting weaker. TV!Harry's been getting assimilated, without anyone even knowing he was there
Ghost Bob (so named by Harry to differentiate him from Skull Bob) essentially has to go in there to pull him out
Room here for fun explorations of all the differences in the two Harrys' lives -- Bob struggles to detach his Harry because the problem is, even with all the apocalypses, Book!Harry is kind of a nicer person to be. He has a clearer self-image. He has more loved ones. He likes his family background. That's hard to give up.
(The key turns out to be that Book!Harry does NOT have anyone who is even a clean parallel to Ghost Bob. TV!Harry remains sensitive to that difference, and it's a gateway to considering the other ways his own life matters to him)
They pull his soul out, Book!Harry gets to offer some life advice like "watch Star Wars at a drive-in" and "look up Ebenezar McCoy" and "get a license to carry," and the TV contingent goes home to put their Harry back in his body
Reunion with Connie Murphy (and other supporting cast?) when Harry "wakes up from his coma." Ends with him appreciating his life but also making plans to use the lessons he learned from the other place.
#series: he died doing the right thing#basically a fic to express the ways i feel bad for tv!harry while also supporting his whole deal
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Still thinking about Rebecca... Mr de Winter is like someone tried to recreate Rochester except he is worse
#listen... rochester might have had that woman locked fown in the atric but de winter killed his wife and ghaslighted the#second ms de winter throughout all the plot. like idk about the book but in the movie the man insists rebecca died by#accident and that poor girl is so so so desperate to believe him... jane had a clearer mind i think.#another thing: de winter literally treats his new wife like a child. just look at the first 30 minutes of the movie or so#he likes her because she is young. rochester might be a lot of things but at least treats jane like an adult#finally........ to be honest at least rochester does genuinely (after some point i guess) love jane. yeah sure still not a good man#but mr de winter??????? he married that girl on a whim and because he was so unbearably lonely and you can't convince me otherwise#jane sure was rather destitute younger of lesser social standing but she knew the world. she had a clear head. she was mature in#a lot of things. but the protagonist in rebecca is an orphan a destitute a much younger and of lesser standing than#her husband but on top of that? she doesn't know the world. she has never had to fend for herself. she is less mature in every way#laura watches stuff
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Today I wrote about 900 words \o/ But only 100 of those were in the thing I wanted to add words to :( And most of them are in the wrong chapter. :( :(
#i know i need to finish the next AU chapter - just today i thought “they've been stuck mid-shag for ages. her legs must be sore by now”#but it's okay! fictional characters don't experience the flow of time when they're not being written! i assume!#i also thought “oh for fuck's sake stop wangsting [sic] about your illegitimate wean” oh no i am sick of the main plotline!!!#look as long as this next chapter is posted before march of next year i won't have broken my “longest time stuck between chapters” record#this is why many people don't read WIPs isn't it?#one scene requires the main characters to talk about their feelings for each other - URGH!!!#(but everyone who was worrying about how far AU!Sylvie is just in this for the sperms can relax as you will FIND OUT in chapter 5!)#(also i'm pretending it's making An Ironic Statement that i wrote fic about the woes of historical queens and she's not the PoV character)#(but actually i just didn't want to have to write lots of pregnancy stuff. this way i can lock her in a darkened room for much of that)#(oh god i'm so sorry AU!Sylvie the Confinement thing seemed like a good idea at the time... well no it always seemed fucked up. but.)#(and! chapter 6 makes things a bit clearer about what Unspecified Tasks AU!Loki has been doing off-screen. clue: it involves knives.)#(chapter 7 will be Mostly Filth but also a Shocking Cliffhanger!)#(and chapter 8 brings The Ending! gosh what a thrilling ride lies ahead when/if i actually finish writing this story! stay tuned!)#but no i'm gonna go now and see if i can at least get her legs into a more comfortable position#the sylki au that got longer and wronger#don't believe the hype#fic related
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season 1 rafe with his gf & son
i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!
he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all
maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off
when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair
and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her
she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue
rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile
he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind
rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)
he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)
when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him
ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin
oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.
sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays
rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?
Click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son
Click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son
Click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son
Click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son
Click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son
Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks imagine#outer banks headcanons#outer banks fanfiction#high school gf! au#dad!rafe au#dad!rafe
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more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!
you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k
Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure.
You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips.
“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.”
You step over it and almost slip.
“Careful,” someone says.
You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.”
Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably.
“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you.
“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?”
“Let me help you with this.”
Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock.
“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down.
“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?”
“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.”
You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving.
He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.”
“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack.
“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.”
You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.”
“Oh, sure. Of course.”
“You haven’t heard it yet.”
You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…”
“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.”
You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested.
You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.”
“You want to show them off?” he asks softly.
His voice is velveteen.
“Is that awful?” you ask.
“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.”
“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.”
He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says.
“You’re welcome.”
“Can I pay you back?”
You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist.
Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive.
“How would you do that?” you ask.
“Is there anything else you… need help with?”
A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too.
“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.”
He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.”
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Flirting with the FBI
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???
Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.
A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭
Masterlist
You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.
If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.
Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.
You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.
You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.
“There once was a serial killer,
Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,
He cut, diced and slashed,
Left the feds quite abashed,
So I leave this message to be clearer”
The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.
You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.
You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.
None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.
And you really wanted to listen in.
The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.
Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.
A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.
With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.
“There once was a bullpen full of agents,
Who thought they were very surveillant,
But a simply code crack,
And there system did hack,
A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”
This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.
The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.
Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.
He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.
Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.
“The tall, dark and handsome employee,
How I do wish that he could enjoy me,
I would gladly submit,
we match wit for wit,
But he's trying his best to arrest me.”
The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”
The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.
You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.
A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.
After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.
By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.
So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.
“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,
I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,
the killer, you see,
Is right now hunting me,
You're the ones who can do better tracking.”
You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.
That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.
You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,
Who I simply and truly just need,
I would lie on my back,
And then let him attack,
Any inch of my body with his seed.”
He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.
Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.
You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.
He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.
This latest limerick was his last straw.
“The cameras are how I can see you,
I do find myself enjoying the view,
His hair is so fine,
I wish he was mine,
The agent with more PhDs than two.”
“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.
“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”
“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”
“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”
They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.
“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.
“The agents grew closer by day,
As the killer wanted to escape,
He paced across the floor,
As I watched by his door,
Getting closer than the agents could say.”
He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.
“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”
“Officer Falstaff, why?”
“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.
“Spencer, wait-”
“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”
Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.
“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.
“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”
“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”
Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.
“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”
His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”
“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”
“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”
The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.
The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.
Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.
Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.
The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.
“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.
A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.
The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.
You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.
“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,
Working with you has been like a dream,
When Reid comes it is wet,
And my mind is all set,
Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”
The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.
“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.
“When you find me there's lots for me to say,
I can't help simply feeling this way,
Your profile I read,
Can't believe you're a Fed,
I yearn for you all night and day.”
Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.
He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.
You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.
“The Doctor had finally cracked it,
The only identity that could fit,
The pretty young thing,
Who'd been flirting with him,
And was thinking of sitting on his…”
You sent a second message along with the first.
“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”
The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.
xxx
So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.
You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.
Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.
You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.
He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.
He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.
“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”
“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”
“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.
“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.
“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”
“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”
“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”
“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”
He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.
“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.
“As much as anyone does.”
“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.
“What do you think, Doc?”
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.
“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.
“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.
“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”
“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”
For the first time in a while, you were speechless.
“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”
“Why, Y/N?”
You sighed and looked back up at him.
“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.
“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.
“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”
He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.
“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”
“You want to sleep with me?”
His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.
“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”
To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.
“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”
You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.
“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.
“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”
You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.
“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”
Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.
“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”
“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”
The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.
A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.
“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.
You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.
“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.
“No, you don't.”
“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”
“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”
“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”
“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”
He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.
“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”
He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.
“Can we keep this serious, please?”
“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”
“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.
“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.
“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”
Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.
“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”
“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”
“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”
“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”
You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.
He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.
It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.
“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”
“I'm driving you home.”
“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”
“What about friends?”
“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”
His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.
“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”
“What?”
“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.
“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”
“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.
“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.
He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.
The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.
“Spencer!”
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”
“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”
You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.
“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.
“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”
The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.
He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.
“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.
“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”
“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”
He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.
“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.
“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”
“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.
It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.
When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.
“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
“And let you touch my things? No.”
You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.
“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.
“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.
“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.
“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.
“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”
You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.
He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.
You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.
“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."
"And what would that be?"
"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”
“Brat,” he spat at you.
“Fed,” you spat back.
“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.
“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.
“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”
His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.
“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”
You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.
“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”
“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.
“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”
With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.
The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.
His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.
“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.
With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Spencer-”
“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”
“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.
“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.
“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”
“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.
“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.
Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.
“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”
His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.
“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”
“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.
“Say it.”
“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”
“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.
“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.
“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.
Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.
Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.
They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.
“Who I simply and truly just need.”
He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.
“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”
A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.
“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”
His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.
He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.
“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.
You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.
You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.
He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.
If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.
He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.
Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.
When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.
“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.
“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”
“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.
Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.
When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.
He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n
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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]
Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.
“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”
Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.
“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.
Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.
“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”
It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.
“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”
“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.
Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.
The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.
He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.
He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.
Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.
“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”
“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”
“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”
“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.
Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.
Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.
“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”
“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”
“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"
Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.
"Where'd... ya get all of this?"
"Hmm... here and there."
Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."
Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."
Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.
"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."
"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."
"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."
Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.
----
"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"
Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.
"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."
Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.
----
Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...
"Hair-dye?"
Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.
"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."
Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"
"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.
"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.
"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.
Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.
Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.
Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?
"Fuck."
#danny phantom#batman#dc x dp#dpxdc#danny adopts jason todd#jason todd#bamf danny phantom#alley drunk! danny au#danny: i'm grieving#jason: wanna bet?#that's right jason's this universe's jazz fenton#this universe's danny fenton died and that's why danny can exist here without causing issues#danny: i have adopted a random child#danny: this child is jazz wtf
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Hello! I'm so happy your request are open 💜
I was thinking about Eddie Munson x reader, friends to lovers trope but from Eddie's perspective.
And he's enamored how reader spends time with him in public without hesitation. And he never has experience friendship with woman without them trying to get weed or prank him.
Oh I'd love to see Wayne and reader becoming friends and team up to take care of Eddie daily like remaining him about eating or wearing gloves during winter ❤️
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
To be loved
Eddie had a small group of friends and that was enough to make him happy. Even if one of his friends was his uncle Wayne. Eddie had two best friends, Gareth and Y/N.
Y/N was the only girl Eddie felt safe with. She was the first person to be his friend and treat him like one. She didn't use him for weed, or play pranks on him to get the laughs of others. She was genuine and sweet.
She brought a lot of happiness into his life and he was embarrassed to admit he was in awe of everything she did, even if it was the bare minimum. She wasn't afraid to be in public with him, she didn't make them hang out in dark places and go out past sunset. She didn't care and that made him feel special.
~~~
The first time Eddie brought her home, Wayne was convinced it was his girlfriend. Eddie kept denying it but Wayne never believed him. He figured Eddie wanted to keep the relationship secret since he was private about his life.
But the more Wayne saw them together, the clearer it became that they were just friends—for now, at least.
~
"Are you going to the dance next week?" Gareth asked as he helped Eddie pick up the campaign.
"I don't see a reason to," Eddie shrugged, school dances were not his thing. "What's up?"
"I don't plan to go either, so I was wondering if you wanted to hang out at my place and get drunk," Gareth asked
"Sounds good to me," Eddie smiled. He bid his goodbyes to Gareth and headed home.
He wasn't surprised to see Y/N waiting for him on his couch. Wayne gave her a key and she accepted the free regins of their home.
"Dinner is in the fridge," she said, not looking up from the TV.
Eddie smiled, threw his bags on the floor, and walked to the fridge. He heated up his food and then joined her on the couch. Wayne popped out of his bedroom, looking at the two.
"Just making sure you ate," Wayne said
"I got him," Y/N smiled, ruffling Eddie's hair. He smacked her hand away as he finished his last bite. His heart felt warm knowing they cared about him to check if he ate.
~
"It is so fucking cold," Y/N groaned as she raced to Eddie's van. She cranked Eddie's heat up and waited for him to finish his final class. It only took a few minutes before the door opened and Eddie's snow-covered body jumped in.
"Fuck I hate winter," Eddie groaned, he put his cold hands in front of his vents. Y/N noticed that he wasn't wearing gloves.
"Edward, where are the gloves I bought you?" Y/N asked
"Probably in a pile of my clothes on my bedroom floor," Eddie said with a toothy smile, hoping she'd cut him some slack.
She rolled her eyes and opened his glove department, grabbing a pair of gloves and throwing them on his lap.
"Good thing I have a spare," she smiled
"What would I do without you?" he said, putting on the gloves. He reached over and kissed her cheek. He couldn't help but feel his heart race at the thought of her caring about him.
~
Eddie was half asleep when he felt Y/N shaking him awake.
"Yes?" he asked, his eyes still closed as he felt sleep calling.
"You know about that dance? The one this weekend," she whispered. The room was dark and she tried to talk in the direction of his face.
Eddie made a humming noise
"Will you go with me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. But Eddie heard it, and his heart raced. He opened his eyes and reached to turn on his lamp.
"Like friends, or like a date?" He wanted her to say a date. He usually saw her as a friend, but lately he couldn't help but want something more. He hasn't felt love in years and she was full of it, all of it for him.
"Um whichever you feel comfortable with," she shrugged. "I don't want to make us awkward."
Eddie nervously played with his fingers and cleared his throat. "I also wouldn't want to make anything awkward. And I hope I don't by saying that I want to go as more than friends." He wouldn't look up from his hands.
Y/N smiled and scooted closer to him in the bed. She reached for his chin and brought his head up. He felt his face heat up from her touch. He looked into her eyes and wondered how he never noticed how flawless she was.
"I also want to go as more than friends," she said. Moving her hand to hold the back of his neck. He shivered and goosebumps filled his skin. He couldn't help himself from looking down at her lips.
"Do you want to kiss me?" She whispered, her eyes looking at his lips. He kept his eyes on her lips, licking his own as he nodded.
"Yes, please,"
She giggled at his manners and leaned in, pressing her lips against his. He moved his hands to her hips and kissed her back. He couldn't believe he was kissing his best friend and damn it felt amazing. He wished he was doing this the whole time.
She pulled away and Eddie couldn't help but chase her lips. She giggled again, the sound making him smile as he pulled her into his body.
"I got to do one thing," Eddie said, keeping his arm around her as he reached over and grabbed the phone on his nightstand.
"Who are you calling?" Y/N asked
"Yo, Gareth? I gotta cancel our plans."
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxthx @ineedmentalhelp123
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#ashwhowrites#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader
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1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.
𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin
𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)
You’ve never really liked Padme.
And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.
At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.
Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.
If he was yours, you would never let him go.
—
You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.
Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.
“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.
“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”
“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”
Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.
Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”
He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.
“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”
He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”
Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.
“Do you want me to?”
“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”
“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”
Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.
“I’ll.. clean your house?”
It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.
“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”
You flush, immediately shaking your head.
“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“
“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.
“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”
“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”
“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.
“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.
“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”
There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.
“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”
He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.
You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.
Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.
“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”
—
Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.
Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.
“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”
You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.
“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.
“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”
“I guess so,” you laugh.
“Time flies.”
It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.
You can feel his presence moving closer to you.
Closer… closer.
And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.
When did he get so close?
Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.
He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.
You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.
“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.
Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”
You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.
But something is tempting you to turn around.
Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.
Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.
You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.
But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.
Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.
The caller id reads “Padme”.
And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.
You hate her.
Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.
“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”
He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.
“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”
Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.
And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.
—
Friday comes quicker than you expect.
Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.
Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.
You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.
It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.
But he still hasn’t showed up.
Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!
Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?
But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.
He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.
He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.
“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.
“Hey, ani.”
“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.
You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.
“You look nice.”
The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.
“So do you.”
And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.
As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.
And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.
Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.
“Everyone leaving?”
His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.
“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”
He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.
“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”
“When isn’t she?”
It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.
“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.
“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”
You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.
“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”
—
The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.
Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.
It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.
“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.
“Sorry.”
His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.
“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.
“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”
You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.
“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.
“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”
Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.
“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”
Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.
You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.
He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.
“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”
It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.
He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.
You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.
“Thank you so much, Ani!”
Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.
It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.
“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.
He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.
“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”
“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”
“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”
“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”
Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.
“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”
“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”
“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”
It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.
His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.
“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”
“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”
“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”
His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”
Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.
“I don’t know, Ani..”
“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”
Its once again, truly fucked.
But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.
“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”
“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”
You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”
“Done.”
It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.
And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.
To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.
“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”
Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”
And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.
“Nice underwear.”
“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”
Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.
“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”
“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”
You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.
“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”
You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.
Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.
“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”
Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.
As long as you please him.
He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.
“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”
Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.
“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.
“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”
His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.
But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.
“No, daddy.“
He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.
“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.
“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”
You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.
Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.
“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”
His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.
“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”
He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.
“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”
“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”
“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”
“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.
You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.
You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.
And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.
He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.
Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”
You nod instantly.
At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.
It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.
But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.
#Anakin Skywalker#Anakin Skywalker x reader#Anakin Skywalker x fem! reader#Anakin Skywalker x bimbo! reader#Modern! Anakin Skywalker#Dbf! Anakin Skywalker#Neighbor! Anakin Skywalker#Anakin Skywalker smut#Star Wars#Hayden Christenen#anakin skywalker fanfic
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“i need you.” — abby anderson
hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 !
summary: after tending to neglected needs, it takes 5 words to turn the tables. notes: nsfw, scissoring, oral sex, (r!receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. wc: 2,793 | tags: none
read pt 1 of " i need you " here!
moments prior,
abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.
when you were nothing but a baby wolf, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.
she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.
she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.
abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.
you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.
maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.
the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.
all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.
your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.
your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.
with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.
you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.
“please… please.”
the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.
with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.
your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.
you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.
while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,
“abby?”
you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.
it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.
as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.
“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.
and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.
her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.
she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.
it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.
her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.
her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.
her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.
your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.
her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..
your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.
“abby,”
you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.
her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.
abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.
your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.
“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.
you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.
abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.
your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.
abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?
your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.
in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.
“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.
as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.
“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.
you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.
tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.
the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.
“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.
all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.
she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.
“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.
you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.
she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.
you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.
abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.
but abby was far from finished.
she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.
with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.
you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.
trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.
she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.
a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.
the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.
“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.
you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.
“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.
“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.
you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.
“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.
only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.
you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.
“we should clean up..”
“we?” abby questions.
“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”
abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.
#abby anderson#abby anderson tlou2#tlou game#tlou x reader#tlou part 2#tlou2#tlou smut#tlou show#tlou series#lesbian#tlou fic#abby tlou#elliesbff
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I'm a little puzzled by a few takes I've seen along the lines of, Lila was such a great wife and mother and Diego took her for granted! Because I don't think the show gave us that at all, and I think it relied heavily and lazily on societal norms to get the audience to make that leap. It also ignored previous characterisation, which is why I plan to disregard the season as a whole - because if the characters had been like this from the start, I wouldn't have fallen in love with them.
So, what I mean is: the whole time we see her as a parent, Lila is basically phoning it in. She seems to view her kids as one monolithic, sticky entity sent purely to ruin her day (distinct shades of the Handler there). They're just a list of chores - diapers, dentist, ballet, cake, piñata... And I'm not underestimating how much parenting really is a list of chores to be done - but that's all we see, no love, no fun. She's eager to get away from them, and she's only - finally - desperate to be with them when it's convenient for the plot, at which point we're supposed to buy the idea that her kids are her sole focus (not the relationship that they spent the past two seasons building up). And even then, the focus is not on the reunion with the kids, it's on all the awkwardness of the surprise love triangle. Hell, one of the kids doesn't even get a name.
Their intent might have been to have Lila be the better parent, but like much of this season, it's all tell and no show. We're working off a couple of brief conversations from the points of view of two frustrated, tired, biased individuals who are already at odds with one another, plus the evidence of what they actually do. They show that they’re not communicating well, but they don’t show how that happened, how long this has been growing, if one of them really is more at fault. All we know is that he complains a lot, and she’s sneaking out at night to play secret agent. They tell us that she loves her children (eventually, after seven years apart), but they show her being annoyed and/or bored in every normal, non-apocalyptic interaction. They have her (and Five) tell us that Diego is a bad husband, but they show Lila sniping at his weight, his way of running a birthday party, rolling her eyes at his efforts to impress her and regain her attention - and they show him dadding at everyone (he will turn this van around, so help him), the comfortable love and affection between him and his kids, the Punjabi he learned to speak fluently to his in-laws, him looking for ways to fix his marriage...
Take the bracelet thing, for example. "You hate bracelets," says Diego. "I gave you one for Valentines and you traded it for a Dyson vacuum." I think what we're supposed to take from that is a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (uh oh, signs the honeymoon period has worn off!), b) Diego gives thoughtless, stereotypical gifts, and c) he doesn't understand what she really wants.
But an alternative reading is this: a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (could not be a clearer or more loaded 'fuck you' to Diego), b) Diego tried to find another way to win her affection (on his pay as a delivery driver, with a wife and three kids to support, he managed to buy a bracelet that was expensive enough to trade for a Dyson?), and c) she rejected that gift as well, without any deeper explanation than 'I hate bracelets'. She's shut down all communication between them and is not telling him what's wrong. She has shut him out so comprehensively that she's got a whole undercover life - for which she apparently has the time and energy! - and yet we're supposed to think that oh it's all on Diego. Why? Lila is not a shy and retiring flower, and she and Diego have been shown before to have some very sincere heart-to-hearts about their relationship. Something changed, okay, fine - but why would we assume it was Diego that caused that?
I think our expectations about What Women Are Like are doing a LOT of the heavy lifting in how the show wants Lila to be perceived. She's a woman, and therefore she's automatically a good wife and mother - that she's emotionally intelligent, the organiser, she'll love her children and would do anything for them, she'll tried the hardest to make her marriage work, just...because boobies, I guess. This is not how you write good parents, or good female characters, TUA! A truly astonishing amount of people actually ARE women, and they know that it doesn't automatically confer any kind of maternal or wifely abilities! These things have to be worked on!
(In real life, women are often socialised to be better at these things, this is sadly true. But an awful lot of us do not have an innate talent for it, and there's no shame in that. And, more relevantly to this post, this is not real life, and Lila is not your average person. She's not normal, and I love that about her. She was raised to be a weapon. Do we really think the Handler installed the 'homemaker' module? Lila herself said that she was scared that she wouldn't know how to be a mother, because she had no good example to base it on.)
I also think the show assumes that, when you get married and have kids, you're automatically granted a house in the suburbs, a bunch of in-laws, and enough money from just the husband's job to get by. And I think that is an incredibly privileged and blinkered assumption. Frankly, unless her parents are financing them, they should be struggling a lot more. None of that is explained, and for me it was a real gap, because these are the arguments that Lila and Diego should be having. Lila caring for the kids versus getting a job. Living with family versus striking out on their own. Diego sticking at a job that makes him miserable and difficult to live with, or taking the huge financial risk of trying to find something better. These are the real life issues they should be facing.
Listen, I think the characterisation of Lila as a parent and spouse in this season is horseshit. I think she would be so much better than they showed - of course she's going to have some low times, she's going to struggle with her own upbringing, but I think she would try her damndest to get it right, and I don't think she'd be defeated so easily. But if we're dealing with what canon actually shows us, she's, uh, kind of mediocre as a mother, and really not that great as a partner.
And yes, I'm sure Diego is no angel, either, he's obviously wrapped up in his problems, and he's probably not much fun to be around when he's fixating on, uh, *checks notes* wanting a more fulfilling job (the fiend). But honestly, he's not that far removed from the Diego we've seen all along, the one she fell in love with. It takes one conversation for him to realise how incredibly fortunate he is, and to convince him to try to work harder on his relationship and stop focusing on the unobtainable. The idea that he's the only one who is failing at this whole gig - the chief culprit in the failure of their marriage, the only one who needs to make an effort to fix things - is bizarre. And it's pretty obvious why they've done it: to justify her thing with Five later and make it all seem more palatable. But there's no real substance behind it.
tl;dr: this season was badly-written, takes some incredibly antiquated attitudes towards the role of women that are inconsistent with the characters they themselves established, and some incredibly classist attitudes towards manual labour, and just hopes that you'll either take it at face value or read the fuck into it, to better sell you a shitty romance that added nothing to the plot.
#I love lila but they DONE HER WRONG this season#anyhow I blocked a bunch of fivela blogs bc I was fed up of seeing that in the tags#no offense to those blogs it's just your ship brings me out in hives#so this is basically me talking to an echo chamber lol#lila pitts#diego hargreeves#tua#the umbrella academy#tua s4#tua s4 spoilers#long post#pepper gets salty
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Every little thing you do- Part 3
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
A/N: I’m sorry I couldn’t post this past Saturday something came up, so next part will be posted on next Wednesday and so on until I go back to post each Saturday. ♥️ Thank you for reading and engaging in this little idea! It means a lot!
Word count: 3,038
After listening to the doctor assure her that the baby was fine last week, Y/N had a lot of time to think and digest all the major changes she was about to face. She couldn’t help but stay up at night and cry endlessly on her own, but after a few days Y/N had finally made a decision. It wasn’t easy, but like her grandmother had said, she didn’t have many options.
Polly had also talked to her with her heart on her sleeve. She had assured her that in the end, women did well with or without a man by their side, her own husband passed away after getting too drunk, Tommy’s father wasn’t the best example to lead a family, Y/N knew too well how their relationship ended up, Ada had married Freddy only for him passing away too soon and she had raised Karl on her own.
She was right, but there was a huge difference, regardless of the useless men in their lives, they still had their last name as support. It didn’t mean anything, but legally it granted them more rights than being a single mother. The injuries on her back had been healing, she was now able to wear her regular clothes and even though she still flinched at times from the pain, it felt nice to move around more freely.
At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat, so at the moment she got it covered. She needed to save as much money as she could though, she had to think of the future.
Staring out the window, she noticed Tommy parking outside, so she rushed downstairs.
“Tommy,” Y/N greeted him. He had been to London, but barely stayed for a night. “How was your trip?”
Tommy hesitated for an instant. Under different circumstances he would’ve shared the new business Mr. Churchill had mentioned at their meeting, but he thought Y/N already had enough in her plate to add anymore pressure. He was still deciding how to manage everything with the Russians and until he got clearer instructions he’d try to keep her out of it.
“Good. I still need to go back next week though.” He followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing a small paper bag on the table. “Brought you something.”
Y/N filled two cups of the tea she started earlier and as she was about to take them to the table, Tommy rushed to get them from her hands.
“I can walk around with them, Tom. I’m only pregnant.” Y/N chuckled at his sudden protectiveness.
“Yeah, what if you feel dizzy? You could burn yourself.” He added worryingly.
But Y/N was busy drooling over the bread Tommy brought.
“Well?” Tommy gave her a long look as he added sugar to his tea.
Y/N looked up at Tommy with her mouth full, the bread was so good!
“Oh! Right… I just wanted to ask if you’re still good with the idea of me living in Arrow House? I don’t want this to cause you troubles with someone.” She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.
Tommy blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Problems with who? What do you mean?”
It was hard to put her feelings into words, the right words as a matter of fact. Lately she had been having lots of big feelings, lots of things to be afraid of…
Y/N moved nervously. “I’ve never been noisy about your personal affairs Tom, and I don’t want to be in the middle in case you’ve a-a you know… a woman in your life.” She admitted, her voice trailing off by the end.
He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he just heard. Then he started laughing, a loud, genuine laugh. “This is ridiculous, you’ve nothing to worry about.”
Only then, she dared to look at him, to read his expression.
“Is this what’s keeping you from accepting? Y/N, look,” Tommy took a few steps towards her, his hands found their way to her cheeks to make her look at him. “I’m going to help you no matter what. Just tell me if you accept or not, I’ll take care of the rest.”
They have had each others back over the years, and now it wouldn’t be different.
“I do need to ask you for a favor though.” Y/N folded her arms. “I will need that job you offered me as secretary a while ago.”
“But you’re pregnant.” He protested.
She was already shaking her head. “I don’t want your pity or charity, I need to work.”
With a sigh, Tommy found himself nodding in agreement. She was stubborn and wouldn’t stay still for too long.
“Deal. Although if you feel sick…”
“I’ll take it easy, I promise.”
This time, it was Tommy who pulled her in for a hug, grateful because Y/N accepted the help he was offering genuinely.
“What made you change your mind from your initial decision?” He asked with curiosity.
Y/N took a sip of her tea, feeling grateful after noticing her stomach was taking it nicely. “My grandma helped me see it through. This is the most decent offer I’ll probably get.”
“So you’re accepting because it’s your only option?” Tommy teased.
“Shut up.” She shoved him slightly on the shoulder.
She still needed to send a letter to Lady Winchester to let her know she wouldn’t be able to return to work. Until now she had lied and said she got sick and didn’t want to risk her, but she needed to digest this upcoming change first.
Later that week, Y/N had officially moved into Arrow House. She didn’t own many things other than her clothes that her grandmother managed to take from her house, her hairbrush and a small bag that Polly gave her. So here she was, on her way to an unknown future full of uncertainty, but with a little baby growing inside her. And the incondicional support of the people who were so close to her heart.
Everyone in the Shelby family had been nothing but kind and welcoming to her, offering to help her carry whatever she had on her hands, telling her how they would welcome the baby with a peaky cap and defend her from cruel comments.
Her eyes danced around, she still gasped at the sight of the spacious foyer, the only difference she noticed is that it now had more furniture and different curtains.
“Mary.”
“Good evening Mr. Shelby, may I take your coat?” A maid welcomed them, moving fast to get the coat from him, she then pointed at the briefcase. She even had uniform!
“This is Miss YL/N, she’ll use the guest bedroom I asked you to prepare.” Then he turned to face Y/N. “Mary will help you with everything, please make yourself at home.”
“Nice to meet you.” Y/N admitted with a smile, but deep down she was in shock to see that a maid was practically guessing Tommy’s every move.
“Of course Mr. Shelby.” The maid gave her a subtle look, but didn’t ask any more questions. “Follow me Miss.”
Turning around, Tommy changed his mind. “Actually… Mary take her suitcase upstairs, Y/N come with me.”
Feeling overwhelmed, she followed him, crossing a huge room, Tommy explained her it was his office, he was holding the door open for her to walk in.
“An office! Look at this place… it’s bigger than our kitchen and living room together.” Y/N couldn’t believe this, she took her time to take everything in; the impressive desk, the endless bookshelves -some where still empty-, the fireplace. “You got a painting?!”
Tommy looked down, understanding her surprise. “Is it too much?” Sometimes it all felt surreal to him.
Y/N didn’t think it was her place to point wherever it was or not too much, he could do whatever he pleased with his wealth.
“It’s just I’m not used to all of this.” She shuddered.
There was something different sparkling in his eyes. It was like she was watching the boy with big dreams and killer smile all over again.
“Yeah… me neither.”
Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, but Y/N wrinkled her nose.
“Are you feeling sick?” He noticed the sounds she made, she was holding her stomach with one hand.
“I think it’s the smell of the cigarette.”
“Shit.” Tommy opened the window and curtains to allow some fresh air to get in and then he stomped his almost untouched cigarette on the ashtray. “Better?”
“Thanks.” She then chuckled. “Sorry I don’t want to be a burden for you.”
“Hey it’s fine, it’s just a cigarette.” He waved at the air to keep the smell from concentrating in the room.
A knock on the door caught their attention, Y/N even jumped in her seat a little.
“Mr. Shelby, dinner will be ready shortly.” Mary announced.
He nodded and asked for a glass of water for Y/N.
“This feels so surreal if you ask me.” She made a funny face that made him laugh.
“I guess I’ll get used to it.”
Pouring some whiskey into the new glassware set he got, he thought about it.
“Look at us.” Y/N said absently, her face moving towards the ceiling. “Who would have thought you’d get a place like this and I’d be expecting a child without a male support.” She rubbed a hand on her still non-existent bump.
Tommy clicked his tongue and gave her an offended look. “What about me?”
“You know what I mean.” She added after noticing his eyes fixed on her.
“How about dinner?” He offered his hand to Y/N. “Let’s see what the chef prepared. Ey?”
Earning another chuckle from Y/N he guided her towards the opposite end. A huge table set just for them.
“There’s another painting!” Y/N pointed through gritted teeth.
A huge portrait of Tommy hanged immaculately on the wall. She could barely keep up with the things going on in her life, but it seemed to be surprise after surprise with his own news.
“Just ignore it.” Tommy suggested taking his place at very end, right under the painting. “I needed to spend some money.”
Rolling her eyes at him, Y/N joined him unsure. “Where should I sit then?”
Patting the place next to him, Tommy stood up. “Right here, next to me.” And he held the chair for her, like a true gentleman. A gesture no one had ever made towards her.
“Are you sure I can’t sleep downstairs? I’ll take me forever to walk down… imagine how I’ll roll down once I get all heavy?”
The image of her swollen stomach invaded his mind for a second, Tommy stopped with his hand holding the glass midway, until he shook his head a little.
“You always love to exaggerate it, it’s not so big.” He added as come back.
“It’s huge and you know it.” She added just before the maids brought their plates.
Y/N was about to take a bite of her food when she noticed something.
“Tommy.” She whispered, making Tommy lean forward. “Do they have to stay there and stare? This is awkward.”
Tommy laughed freely.
“Mary, would you give us a moment?”
“What if you need-”
“I’ll call you.” He interrupted.
She was surprised to see them following Tommy’s requests in a heartbeat. They were eager to please him in every possible way.
“This is insane, they’re watching your every move.”
Tommy chuckled unsure of what to say, he was still trying to adjust to this new lifestyle, trying to be part of a select club to fit in the upper class.
“Well I’m paying them a ridiculous amount of money.”
“You know what I mean.” She stated smirking.
He did, of course he did.
This was the kind of things people like he and Y/N could only dream a few years ago.
“Just enjoy it, you’ll get used to it.”
He smiled at his friend, understanding her confusion. A major change like that in his life didn’t happen overnight, it took time and a lot of effort to built the fucking empire he now owned. It was about damn time that he started getting a small luxury like that property or the service for the place.
Y/N had to admit the food was delicious, she had never tasted anything better than that meal.
“I’m really proud of you.” She expressed as they finished. “It’s like you made your dreams come true, you made it out of Small Heath not from the back door, you made it through the main gate.”
Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N was the only person that had celebrated with him the small victories just as the big ones. He was lost for words, to realize that she felt proud of him meant more that he could express.
“Would you like dessert?” Mary asked folding her hands.
Turning to face Y/N, Tommy realized the way her eyes sparkled. “Just one for her, please.”
She groaned. “This is going to be a problem, you’re going to make me put on some weight with all of this food.”
“Well you need to feed that baby.” Tommy leaned his elbows on the table.
“You don’t even know how grateful I am to have you in my life, you’re saving our lives.” She touched his arm.
“That’s what friends do.” He chuckled as he saw her mouthwatering expression over the plate.
A few moments later, Tommy walked her towards her bedroom.
“This is insane, a small living room inside my bedroom?!” Y/N couldn’t believe how spacious it was.
“There’s the walk in closet, and this additional wardrobe, the vanity… everything you might need.” He added pacing around, slowly. Hands hiding in his pockets. “I think you will particularly enjoy this.”
He then pointed at the window seat. Y/N gasped in surprise, she hadn’t noticed it.
“Woah… Tommy.”
When she turned around, Tommy noticed the tears in her eyes.
“Hey what’s wrong?” He stepped closer.
“You’re just so good to me, I can’t thank you enough for providing a roof to sleep under.” Y/N sobbed.
Her vulnerability broke him. It tore him apart to realize how hard this was to her. His arms found their way around her immediately.
Emotions coming out in the form of tears.
“Y/N… talk to me.”
“It’s just…sad to see my own family doing this to me. The days I spent at Watery Lane, they never went to ask how I was doing.” A sudden sob interrupted her explanation. “To check if I needed something.”
He didn’t know what to say, her family’s message was clear and he could only imagine how she was feeling.
“But you’ve my family,” he offered rubbing her back, “we’ll be with you every step of the way. Try to forget about it, you need to be calm.” He then took a step back, but kept touching her arm, “Think of your baby.”
That seemed to do the trick, because his words made Y/N smile.
“You’re so right.” Y/N took a deep breath. “Scott made his choice and so did my family. From now on it will be this baby, me, Grandma, you and the Shelby family. That’s all I need.”
A half smile appeared on her face. He knew the process wouldn’t be easy, it’d take her some time to rebuild herself, but she had the determination and courage to carry on with whatever obstacle life decided to make her face.
A flash back ran through Tommy’s mind, he went back to the warehouse and he could still hear Scott’s pleads for his life. The blinders had been playing with him for a while and Tommy took his time. But when he faced him, Scott’s eyes were fully swollen, an ugly lip cut and several bruises all over his face.
“You thought you could fuck off like a rat?! Ey?!” He shouted in his face, yanking his hair so Scott could be face to face with him. “Thought it would fun to mess around with Y/N?”
A twisted smirk appeared on Scott’s lips, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy so he moved his hand back and hit him hard across the face with his fist several times.
“This is for fooling Y/N.” Tommy announced and kicked him.
“And this for not taking responsibility over the baby.” He kicked Scott between his legs this time. “Fucking coward.”
Now, with Scott lying on his back groaning in pain, Tommy stepped over him, holding him by the shirt with one hand. “And this for telling me to fuck off.”
It took three blinders to make Tommy step back, he was determined to finish him. He had to take deep breaths through his mouth from the exertion and adrenaline rush. His heart was pumping so hard and fast against his ribs.
“I want you out of the city and you better never come back. Because next time I’ll fucking kill you.”
End of flashback.
“You’re safe now.” Tommy helped her gently to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can have a new beginning here with your baby. I can assure you, you’ll get everything you need.”
Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief.
“You deserve everything good in the world Tommy.”
She knew that he meant every word, and most importantly, he’d keep his promises.
“Now have some rest, you’ve been through a lot.” He groaned as he stood up.
“At what time should I be at the office?” Y/N asked when her friend reached the door.
“8:00 o’clock,” he winked, “but I’ll drive you. Good night.”
As she thanked her best friend one more time and wished him good night, Y/N stared at the spacious bedroom. It was unbelievable, a dream she was afraid to wake up from.
Her heart still felt heavy for not having her family’s support, but in some way she felt secure and protected under Tommy’s wing.
And for now, that was enough.
Part 4
Master list
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a (can’t tag) @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1 @galactict3a
#that’s what Cill said#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#peaky blinders fan fiction#peaky blinders x reader#thomas shelby x reader
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Frank, Eddie, and the Tell-Tale Heart
So, I know the main focus of this update was Poppy, which I was happy to see (though I'm not happy to see what happened to her). I do have a theory cooking about her, Sally, and the Commedia Dell'arte, but Frank n' Eddie are my favorite pair, and I've been stewing over this particular theory since the July '23 update. This tiny line from the Looky-Loo storybook is what cinched it for me.
Source: Merchandise Page, Looky-Loo Storybook
This line isn't read out loud, but we can see it at around the 9 minute in the video, above Eddie, looking so polite. It reads,
"Villains!" I shrieked, "I can deny it no longer! I admit the deed!—tear up my flower bed!—here, here!—it is the ticking of my beloved alarm clock!"
This isn't the actual line from The Tell-Tale Heart. The original line reads "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!—tear up the planks!—here, here!—it is the beating of his hideous heart!"
Source: The Tell-Tale Heart
The Tell-Tale Heart is about someone murdering their roommate, cutting him into pieces, and hiding the evidence under the floorboards of their house.
And I think this is what Frank is going to do to Eddie, in an attempt to protect him in a perverse, misguided way.
This rewritten lines seems very specific to Frank and Eddie. We know Frank loves his garden. And who's the only character in the Neighborhood who owns a clock? Eddie.
At the end of the Homewarming video, Frank sees how distressed Eddie is. As many have theorized, Frank seems to be somewhat aware of what's happening, although we don't know to what extent. But he sees that Eddie is now in the line of fire of The Powers That Be, and he becomes worried for him.
I think Frank will dismantle Eddie and hide him in his garden until he deems it 'safe' for Eddie to come back, once the 'eyes' are off him. (Kind of reminds me of the Eye of Sauron from Lord of the Rings). An unintentional—or perhaps intentional—side effect of being dismantled and put back together, with new parts, is that Eddie doesn't remember things well.
Including, possibly, his and Frank's relationship.
This goes along with the theme we've seen several times in WH now, including this new Halloween update. The puppets unintentionally—yet seriously—harm their loved ones in order to protect them from something they deem far worse—whatever that may be.
As these posts by kykudos, oniongrass, and nikkiiiscute discuss, there is an image from one of the hidden bug clips of Frank's garden with 9 clothespins—one buried in the dirt.
Source: Welcome Home Hidden Audio ('til it's back on the official site :3)
And there's the references to burial in Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight, too. This post by the-nosy-neighbor goes quite a lot into this song very well, especially how it might indicate Frank could put Eddie into a suspended state!
Source: Transcript Page, Bug-a-Bye and Goodnight
Now I have been thinking about this dismantling/reassembling thing for a long time, especially since the last Halloween update. Eddie is one of the puppets with a new costume, and he is Frank(enstein)'s monster. And he has a big yellow band-aid on the back—Frank's color. If Eddie is taken apart, Frank will patch him up again.
Source: Clown's Tumblr
(Also, I'm curious about the blue hand and face in Eddie's costume design. That's Barnaby's color. Does Frank use Barnaby's spare parts to put Eddie back together?! 😳 Especially since I feel like Barnaby's time on Mister Bone's Wild Ride is fast approaching—but that's yet another post 😅)
But based on the Tell-Tale Heart line, Frank may have been the one to do the dismantling in the first place, which is quite dark. Based on the below picture from the former staff member page—clearer image here from Clown's Tumblr—Frank may be aware they're puppets and made up of various parts.
Source: Welcome Home Wiki until it's back on the official site :3
There is also an intense piece on Clown's Ko-Fi here (please support Clown if you can!) that shows butterflies doing SOMETHING to Eddie. Are they putting him together? Or taking him apart to join them in their hibernation? 🤔
Frank also likes gelatin. As he tells Poppy in their hidden audio, 'it holds perfectly sliced fruit beautifully'. Perfectly sliced, cut up fruit, eh? Gelatin is a preservative that we also see in the cookbook recipe, and we all know Eddie has an unholy encounter with his single pea. So yet another symbol of suspended animation that is related to Frank and Eddie.
Source: Merchandise Page, Cookbook
So it seems like Frank has some experience in preservation, hibernation, etc. and knows how to use it, if it comes to it.
The next big update will likely be spring-themed. A long time ago, Clown posted that Frank has a holiday in spring. Of course this isn't canon until it's on the website, but either way, I think Frank will have an important role in the spring update, which I believe will also focus on Julie. We may see him wake up Julie from hibernation...and Eddie from his dirt nap.
Source: Clown's Tumblr
(I've been so curious about that shadow behind the flower. At first I thought 'OMG, it's Eddie's hand!', but I don't think so. 😅 I dunno what it is, but it doesn't quite seem flower like to me...🤔)
This Ko-Fi post (again, please support Clown if you have the means!) was posted around Easter this year and had a bunny/Easter theme. Clown says "What is there to say though... Well! We know what the next holiday is in our Home Sweet Home, I'd say." A huge theme of Easter/Spring are Rebirth and Resurrection.
As this post by serene-hatterene so beautifully details, Frank may feel pressured to kiss Julie to wake her up to prove his heteronormativity. Maybe to further protect Eddie, too, to prove they aren't a thing. Seems like Julie's family may show up this update, too, and we know family can cause a lot of pressure for couples during holidays. 😬
My last item isn't that strong, but I have been thinking of since the July '23 update. In Eddie's Big Lift, Frank says the following line:
Source: Transcript Page, Eddie's Big Lift
The tense of "You always did work too hard" always bothered me. Why doesn't Frank just say, "You always work too hard!" And Eddie doesn't seem to know what he's talking about. Frank sounds almost wistful here. It's like he's talking about his ex—a former version of Eddie, pre-dismantling, perhaps?
(Also, 'Enjoy the ground, Mr. Dear'? Dude, if this theory is right, that line is even more screwed up than it already was. 😳)
Here is my order of how I feel these events actually happened:
Secret Bug Audios (Eddie and Frank flirting) -> 1st Halloween Audio (Eddie still seems like his chipper, knowledgeable self) -> Homewarming -> Springtime (and Eddie's Resurrection)? -> Eddie's Big Lift
Not quite sure where this last Halloween update lands, but I feel like it's later. Eddie seems ignorant of the potential adverse effects The Brickening (TM) could have on Poppy. I feel like he's been more sensitive to Poppy and others in the past (but maybe I'm wrong, I'm biased towards him, heh). Perhaps after his Reconstruction, his memory has now been reset, and he has "fallen into line" with the other Neighbors and their weird, pile-onto-one-person ways.
Anyway, what do you all think? 😬😬 I do hope I'm wrong, since Frank is my favorite, and this would make me feel very differently about him. 😬😬😬 Please tell me your own WH theories, too! I find them so interesting!
#welcome home#welcome home theory#welcome home theories#welcome home update#welcome home halloween#welcome home spoilers#welcome home restoration project#welcome home puppet show#whrp#welcome home website#frank frankly#eddie dear#welcome home frank#welcome home eddie#long post#image heavy#welcome home arg#wally darling#wh speculation#my text posts
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jealous! sevika x bartender! reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios)
summary: while working at the bar, a guy is being inconvenient. luckily, a jealous sevika takes care of him.
content warning: slightly spoilers of season 1, arc 2 and 3, the guy is harassing reader (it is not sooo explicit but if you dont feel comfortable with this dont read it, please!!), little violence (just a punch) and a bit of blood. be warned, be safe!
author notes: i loved doing this request and, as my first one, i hope this is good. btw here is almost 4am and i haven't slept yet (i promised myself that i would write something on the weekend and i did it yey), so there may be a lot of typos and things like that but i can't think properly now, so yep i will post it as it is now, no proof read, no nothing. wish you guys like it!
» in the late night hours, the last drop was more agitated than ever. in every corner there were people talking, smoking, playing and drinking the drinks you made and poured in their cups again and again.
» working in such a crowded place was like hell, specially today, it looked like all of the lanes came to the bar at the same time. but you were well paid, you couldn't complain much, well, not now that a guy was just about to tip you.
“hey, pretty thing,” the weird man waved his hand to get your attention, smiling creepily at you when he finally got it, “would you get me one more of these?” he raised his glass mid air to make his point clearer “i can pay you well...”
» you knew the risks of his proposal, but money is money, and so is job, and you needed it bad now, things in the lanes never were this difficult, but since the enforces forced their troops in, making money was even harder.
» so you did as you were asked. picked up the bottle from behind the counter, walked to his side and poured in the glass a dose of the liquor. he placed a few more coins than the drinks price on the table and you smiled politely, picking them up.
» in between cards, a certain someone was already watching you from afar, waiting to step in if the man tried to do something that could possibly harm you. she was silco's right-hand, a regular at the lost drop and nothing more. just another sometimes flirty customer, but unlike him, she was respectful with you.
» when you turned your body so you could put the bottle back to its place, the man called you. again. and now she was on full alert, almost forgetting about the cards game she was playing.
“pretty thing, you forgot something! you still haven't told me your name, right? i want to know you... better.” the way he was eyeing you, your body, was making you sick and all you wanted to do was to punch him now, and sadly you couldn't.
but someone could. and she did.
even before you registered what was happening, the tall woman was already at your side, almost shielding you from the man's view, burning eyes looking directly at his soul. “if you ever come here again, i swear to you, the chances of you being alive are zero, you understood?”
“b-but ma'am i did nothing!” his nose was bleeding almost comically, but she still kept her composure, holding the man's face in place, so she could punch him again if needed.
“i've asked you if you understood!” she slammed down her mechanical hand on the table, raising it again, her voice full of rage.
“yes, ma'am!” she released him, and he runned away from the bar, shrinking and muttering “sorry's” at you both again and again.
“and you better never try to talk with them like that.” she shouted so he could still hear her words, jealousy dripping in every one of those. when she looked down on you, your pretty eyes were already shining while you looked up at her.
“thanks. for defending me.” you offered her a little smile, a genuine one, and she offered her hand, which you gladly shaked.
“no need to thanks. name's sevika.” she said, displaying a smirk on her so pretty lips.
“sevika... a beautiful name for an even more beautiful lady.”
» you didn't know her well, and neither did she, but maybe this could be a start of something.
#—swe writes#arcane#arcane x reader#sevika x reader#i cant think rn i just want to sleep so bad#but at least i wrote something :)))#anyways this was my first request and i needed to write it asap#and here it is#im happy with this ye#even though tomorrow i will look dead. im fine with it#i can sleep in between classes so its fine its fine#now i need to go bcs tomorrow i need to wake up early!#sevika fans i did this one for you#i love all of sevika fans#btw in this house we stan big buff women
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The Conqueror (XXI)
Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.
Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader.
warnings. yándèrè thèmès, därk trïggèrïng thèmès, jüngkôôk ïs crâzy, öbsëssïön, mêntïöns öf kïllïng, yn ïs gèttïng ströngèr, a BÏG STÖRM ÏS CÖMÏNG.
series masterlist.
note. plz hi, forgive me for the delay xx send asks for tc characters, send feedback n ENJOY! Please share your thoughts about this chapter because I’m excited. Also, I’m removing the people from the tag list who are not taggable anymore. So if you want to be tagged, just reply to this post.
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You couldn’t sleep last night. But it’s not like you have been able to sleep peacefully without nightmares haunting you or the thought of Jungkook- the monster taking over your mind every time you try to sleep.
But this time it wasn’t just his thoughts, but rather his words- what was he talking about when he said that he was going to tell you the truth about your father, and you’d start to would hate him?
You have nothing to do here, all you have to do is sit around, and… dread the thought of him coming back to you. This chamber is so large but all you feel is suffocated.
The golden chandeliers, the silk bed sheet and the sherbet right next to your bed, it all feels too much- you’re in a golden cage.
And you cannot escape.
Yeah, all you can do is sit around, but you’re not willing to do that anymore. If you cannot escape, you just might as well try to walk around this palace, so maybe you’ll feel a sense of control over your own life.
You decide to get up from your bed you take a few steps you look at yourself in the mirror that’s standing, right in front of you, you look so different in these royal clothes, but.. you don’t feel good about yourself.
What did he even see in you? Sure you’re attractive, but there are a lot of more attractive women than you, especially his consorts.
You are nothing when it comes to them- they are the most gorgeous women in Goryeo.
You would feel insecure, but you don’t care- you want him to leave you so you can escape and leave your life freely but in the few days you have realized one thing: that’s just not possible anymore.
This king will never leave you.
You sigh, crying anymore will do you no good, last night, you even came to a conclusion that you have to face your destiny now.
And fearlessly.
As you open your chamber’s door and walk outside you hear commotion. The guards guarding your chamber immediately hear your footsteps, and they bow their head to you and respect.
You visibly cringe.
You lower your head in embarrassment and just make your way through the golden wing. You keep walking the noises become clearer.
“The Kings wedding is in a week. Can you believe this? I thought he would never marry- at least not someone like her.” a court lady is talking to her fellow and you cannot help but listen..
What wedding? And in Less than a week?
Your heartbeat rises because you know they’re talking about you, especially when they mention someone like her with a scoff, and the hint of jealousy, and disgust in their voices, of course you can see their faces.
“yes I cannot believe that it’s not one of the consorts-especially considering their background.. I don’t know what the king is doing, but it’s a foolish move.”
You Cannot help but feel a little insulted at their remarks, you clear your throat and as soon as the maids notice you, you can feel the color from their face drain. All staff stand in alert as you make your presence known.
But you’re not even a queen yet, so why are they behaving like this?
“M-My lady- I’m so sorry… what are you doing here? Do you need anything?” One of them stutters out while the other one is avoiding eye contact with you.
you want to roll your eyes because you’re done with everyone walking all over you like you won’t do anything and now you’ve decided that you’ll fight back against everyone that will disrespect you.
Including Jungkook.
It’s not your fault that he chose you. “what were you guys talking about? What wedding?” The real question is what the fuck they’re talking about.
They gasp, and one of them finally gathers the courage to look into your eyes.
“Y-Your wedding with the- Baby, they’re talking about our wedding.”
Goosebumps.
You tilt your head to look behind you, and you see him standing. With a smirk on his face, but he looks visibly livid. You’re not surprised because he always looks so crazy.
But what the fuck is he doing here? He must be walking here to bother you once again, but this time you’re here.
“Y-Your Majesty!!” The whole staff present cower. Soon you see them all bow again, but this time all of their heads hang low.
Jungkook is right here- speak of the devil, and he shall appear-or more likely? think of the devil, and he shall appear.
Delusional. He’s delusional if he thinks that you’re going to marry him.
“what wedding?” At this point you sound like a broken record, but he doesn’t mind that, instead, he chooses to focus his attention on the two court ladies that you were talking to just now.
“what were you saying about yn just now? I would like to hear it from your own mouth or I cut off your tongue right here.”
Your eyes widen when he threatens to cut off their tongue with a huge smile on his face. He heard the whole conversation like you.
They both start to shake, you can even smell their fear from here, what the fuck is he doing? All he does is traumatize people. “W-What- no- DO NOT INTERRUPT ME YN.” His voice booms as he cuts you off.
You can hear a few whimpers, people are scared.
You want to roll your eyes but it won’t really bring a difference and he always does what he wants
Jungkook is still glaring at the two, “COME ON NOW, SPEAK UP!” he commands, and his author voice, you go silent, because how could he scream at you like this?
He cannot be serious about cutting their tongue.
He’s got his hands folded behind his back and he’s standing tall, all intimidating. His dark curly hair makes him more intimidating. His figure is definitely huge.
He’s quite literally a beast.
“Y-Your majesty pl-please forgive us. It was an honest mistake.. we are so sorry please- please forgive us!” You watch them as they fall to their knees and bow to Jungkook- their shaking bodies make you pity them.
No one should ever have to beg for their life like this. no matter what they have done and even though they have insulted, you definitely felt stringed but you still don’t want them to die.
The fear in their voice will haunt you forever- they are about to die because of you. You have to stop this.
So you decide to swallow your pride, before he can say anything or take out his sword, you can see his hand reaching for it.
Come yn speak up!
“J-Jungkook.” You call out his name, oh, your heart is going to burst for sure, all of this is so overwhelming and intense but you have to keep your composure if you want to save their life.
You’ve never called him by his name.
And he knows that because the way he looks at you immediately has you a little creeped out, he looks starstruck, “J-Jungkook please don’t punish them..”
Your tongue feels bitter as you say his name. “please.” You say once again. It’s so hard for you beg to him but if you have to save someone’s life, you will do it.
“J-Jungkook.”
Did you just call out his name? Oh, he must be hallucinating. Because you would never call out his name like that so softly. You haven’t even said his name.
And even if you have, he doesn’t remember.
“J-Jungkook please don’t punish them..”
It’s like you can hear his thoughts because you decide to call out his name once again, and all of his anger melts down, he looks at you in surprise.
Fuck.
He feels his knees, go weak as you call out his name- he’s been dying to hear you say it. His hand from his sword attached to his pants loosens.
You’re so kind- they and they deserve to die but here you are begging for their life, even though he doesn’t agree with you, but since you asked so nicely, who is he to deny you?
“Oh baby…” he coos, walking towards you, He cannot focus on anyone right now because you just called out his name so kindly for the first time.
He wants to hear you say it again
He can move the mountains for you. “Yn- YOUR MAJESTY I’M SO SORRY FOR INTERRUPTING YOU LIKE THIS, BUT THERE’S SOMETHING YOU SHOULD KNOW.”
Oh he’s really going to kill someone now, jungkook scoffs as he halts his steps. “what the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you interrupt me?”
Jungkook looks at the guard instead now, glaring him and if looks could kill he’d be six feet under now. “BARK!” He screams.
“T-There’s an intruder in the Palace! H-He’s asking for the Chief Consort… He is calling her name out like a crazy man.”
What the fuck, he feels his eye twitch and Jungkooks jaw clenches with anger, All of the people are confused and you gasp.
Someone is definitely going to die tonight, Jungkooks sure because he knows for a fact that he is here for you, even though he has no idea about this man.
Without uttering a word, Jungkook storms off.
This man has just come to his own death.
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