#but I had to gif him in the end still trying to make eye contact with Zoë so maybe he'd be able to manipulate her into feeling sorry for hi

[you-know-honey]

A Strange Guy

Viktor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Chapter Summary: Jayce needs to go to Undercity for certain materials if he wants to continue his secret project. Which ends up taking him to the only crazy person who take risks to take him. You. Even if it ends up getting you into more serious problems than street fights.

Series: The Path of Zaun

Next Part

N/A: English is not my first language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I'll update it. Remember share if you liked it.

Knock…Knock…Knock

The knocking on the door started softly, like the sound of a drop on wood, almost imperceptible to your ears. The cold air of Piltover came through the window, clean air, so pure that even after so many years your lungs were still not used to it. In undercity you were used to the heavy, dry air, the damp, sticky streets, but above all, dark, where the sun was barely a mirage and everything was ruled by shadows. In the great city of progress everything was full of unusual energy, each piece destined to move with millimetric precision, full of light even at night.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

The knocking became louder, making the beams of your very humble bedroom at the academy vibrate. It was not how you had thought you would end up. A small apartment, so old that you thought maybe Professor Heirmerdinger himself lived there when it was just new, but you couldn't expect anything less, without a last name to bear or a sponsor watching your back it was all you had, and still it was better than having nothing like in undercity.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You woke up with a start, your back creaking as you stood up from the chair and stretched. Some of your notes were stuck to your face and the ink had been ruined by your drool. You were a complete mess right now, but who would come to your room at this hour? The clock read 2:36 AM. You ran your hands over your face trying to help you wake up and tear the papers off your face.

You walked as best you could to the door, tripping over everything in your way. You swung the door open, through the shadows of the night and your irritated eyes, you focused on a tall, burly man standing in front of you.

“What do you want?” you asked. You weren’t in the mood for whatever that guy needed, besides only one person in the world had the right to visit you in the middle of the night and it definitely wasn’t him.

“Are you Y/N?” he seemed quite nervous, playing with his fingers and avoiding eye contact with you.

You refrained from answering for a moment, if this was some kind of joke from your classmates they would pay dearly for waking you up at this hour. “Who’s asking?”

The boy didn’t seem to expect that answer but he answered as quickly as he could, as if he was holding back from spitting out a wave of words.

“Jayce Talis”

I think the raised eyebrow on your face gave him the message that you had no idea who the hell he was, maybe that’s why he seemed embarrassed.

“Mhmm, and what is Jayce Talis doing knocking on my door?” You leaned back against the door with your arms crossed. “I don’t think you’re coming here just to introduce yourself.”

The boy cleared his throat, as if he was gaining courage to be more firm in his way of speaking.

“You’re from undercity, right?”

“You got it, congratulations.” I joked, giving him a sarcastic, slow applause.

You snapped your fingers in front of him when you caught him looking behind you. “What do you need?”

The academy was very clear about where they wanted to invest the funds they received. The biology faculty was one of the last places on their priority list. It had been years since any of the projects proposed by their students had borne fruit or even been promising. This was the reason why you fell asleep on your desk that night, working on your own project.

“I need you to take me there.”

Your eyes widened before bursting into a loud laugh.

“You? In undercity? Are you crazy?” You’ll be eaten alive.” You tried to stop laughing when the boy’s brow furrowed in disgust, but you couldn’t imagine a guy like him, so well dressed in a place like your home.

The light of a flashlight at the end of the hallway caught both of your attention, your laughter had attracted a police officer who was making rounds in the academy.

“I don’t think you should be here, Jayce Talis” you smiled, ready to close the door and have someone else take care of him.

The man clenched his jaw and clenched his fists, he was annoyed, not at all pleased with you playing with him, the police officer’s increasingly closer steps left them little time to act.

“Hey!” you shouted when the man pushed you aside and snuck into your room, closing the door behind him.

You didn’t say anything when the police officer’s flashlight stopped in front of your door a few seconds before continuing his rounds. The academy was very strict about students in the hallways, their strategy had been foolish and risky. You could scream, alert the police about him…but you wouldn’t, because then you would bear the brunt of the possible punishment.

“What is all this?” he asked, moving from the door to walk curiously around the small living room.

Behind your back, what you had tried to hide from him, was your small private laboratory. The desk was overflowing without space, filled with papers and notebooks in total disarray, one of the walls was completely covered with terrariums, large ones with flowers that possibly no one in Piltover had ever seen before. A sight for someone so curious to Jayce.

“It’s none of your business” you replied, there was no way to excuse the sight, it was just what it seemed. You let yourself fall on the couch reluctantly.

He smiled maliciously “Maybe not, but I bet Professor Heimerdinger did”

Your body rose as if a spring from the couch had lifted it, you grabbed one of the books on the nightstand, the thickest one and threw it in his direction, with such good luck that you managed to hit him directly in the forehead.

“If you say anything I’ll kill you!” you screamed while trying to keep your composure and relax your agitated breathing.

He didn’t scream in pain, although you were sure he would have if it weren’t for the fact that the policeman would have surely heard him and well…it was the female student wing “Crazy…” he sighed while touching his forehead with his fingers, luckily there was no blood. He took the chair from your desk and turned it to sit in front of you, with a grimace you dropped back down onto the couch. “Let’s make a deal.”

You had no other choice so you just nodded.

“Take me to undercity and Heimerdinger will never know about… whatever you do here.” he said as he pointed at the terrariums.

“They’re toxin purifiers…” you muttered under your breath. You weren’t happy that they treated your job like a simple child’s game.

“What?”

“They’re plants that purify the air and earth of toxins, I’m trying to make them work on a large scale.”

“I’ve never seen that kind of plants,” he exclaimed, and it made sense, they were rare and it had been extremely difficult for you to find them, they glowed in the dark, some with leaves that seemed to move like tentacles, others gave the image of a skull.

You let out a small, egotistical and proud smile. “Of course not. They are plants from undercity”

“How did you get them?” he asked, standing up and bringing his hand closer to the glass of one of the terrariums.

“What do you think?” you walked towards him as soon as you saw him approach the terrarium, you had been working on this project for years and you weren’t going to let any of his imprudences ruin it.

He rolled his eyes, you weren’t being easy to deal with, not that you wanted to be. He let out a small growl before turning around to glare at you.

“Are you always this charming?”

“Only with those who enter my room without permission.” You forced a smile.

He sighed again, massaging his temples in frustration.

“Let’s stop playing games, take me to undercity tonight and no one will know about your research. Period.” He crossed his arms, seeming very determined to continue with this crazy idea.

You thought of some way to dissuade him from that, but he seemed too sure and perhaps too desperate for you to convince him. There weren't many undercity students in the academy, you could count them on the fingers of one hand and you would have fingers left over, but you supposed that no one was crazy enough to go down again after all the comforts that the academy offered.

“Why do you want to go?” You asked, giving up, after all if it was something simple you could do it, otherwise you would hit his head with something and leave him in the main hallway so it would seem like it was just a bad dream.

“It's none of your business” he replied, almost in the same tone that you spoke to him.

“You already stuck your nose in my business, it's only fair that I do the same.” He also sighed and sat back down in the chair.

Both of you were realizing that their pride would only lead them to an ego fight until dawn and neither of them were comfortable with something like that.

“I need some machinery parts…” he said, obviously not wanting to reveal too much and biting his tongue to avoid accidentally saying anything too much.

“Machinery parts? You could get that at any market here.” you snorted, finding it ridiculous that he wanted to go down for something he could get in much better condition in Piltover.

“They are specific parts, I couldn’t get them here without raising suspicions” he mentioned, taking a notebook out of his vest.

You hadn’t noticed that he had something inside his clothes, it made your hair stand on end to think that it could have been a weapon and you hadn’t noticed. You swept those paranoid thoughts from your mind to continue listening to him.

“Show me and I’ll tell you where to get it” you walked slowly behind him, leaning an elbow to rest your face on his shoulder, he winced but you didn’t care.

He opened the book to one of the bookmarks, very clever of him, so you wouldn't take a quick look at the rest, on the page there were very specific tools and materials, and you knew that things like that wouldn't be easy to get in the (in your opinion) very basic markets of Piltover, if he said to make them on his own, it would attract the attention of the teaching staff and since this boy had sought you out, that was probably the last thing he wanted.

You looked at the notebook for a moment, hoping to see something that would give you a clue about what he was up to. “You sign every page? A bit of an egotistical on your part.” He just rolled his eyes, but you noticed that he tried to cover his name on the page with his thumb. “Do you have money to pay for something like that? Things aren’t cheap downstairs,” you mentioned, letting your face fall on his shoulder.

“Will this be enough?” he asked, leaving in the coffe table a bag of considerable size with gold coins.

You let out a small giggle. “If you’re not easy to scam, I suppose this is enough.”

“So, do you accept?” He turned his head in surprise, getting too close to yours, both of you moving away from each other as if you were leprosy.

You thought about it for a few minutes, it seemed like something not too difficult to do, go get some gadgets and come back, it didn’t seem that difficult. It would be easy.

“Okay, deal.” You extended your hand to him, who didn’t hesitate to close the deal with a smile.

“So… are we going now?” he asked, like an excited child going on a trip for the first time.

You looked him up and down very critically, everything screamed Piltover boy.

“Not with those clothes.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” he asked, looking at himself for any wardrobe flaws.

“Do you want to be stripped? If you come there’s dressing like that, forget about getting anything.” You crossed your arms, thinking of something that might work, you didn’t think he had a change of clothes in his vest.

“Do you have any ideas?”

An invisible lightbulb lit up above your head, accompanied by a mischievous smile that chilled his blood. “I think so…”

“I hate you.” Jayce exclaimed. If looks could kill your body would be unrecognizable.

“Who goes on an undercity with gold details on their clothes?” you quickly replied with a murmur. It wouldn’t be wise for any police to see them right now.

“Couldn’t you get something better?” he stretched the tight collar of the shirt that clearly wasn’t his size.

“The janitor’s clothes are fine, don’t complain.” You poked your head out of one of the alleys. “A cop is coming. Against the wall.”

For once he heard you, it was funny to see him stick to the wall, a little more force and he would go through it. You did the same, clearly with more class than him. It had been a long time since you had worn those clothes, you had buried them in the back of your closet in the hopes of never wearing them again but somehow it was the most comfortable you had been in a long time.

In Jayce’s case you couldn’t say the same, he looked like a cake in the wrong mold, the poor janitor’s uniform barely fit him, the buttons were trying their best not to jump out of the buttonholes of the shirt, you didn’t even try with the shoes, they were too small so you just limited yourself to putting tape on the gold details and making him step in every mud puddle on the way to the bridge.

When the policeman walked away, far enough so that he wouldn’t hear you, you motioned for him to follow you, both of you successfully sneaking to the end.

“This place isn’t so bad” he said as you walked through the streets of the surface.

“This isn’t undercity” you mentioned, giving him a quick glance before quickening your pace and tightening your grip on the backpack on your shoulders.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, as if he didn’t expect that answer from you. Somehow that irritated you.

Going back to that place simply awakened a huge irritation inside you, you couldn't control it, it was the part of you that kept you alive all that time. Both arrived in front of an old establishment in ruins, next to a dark precipice.

“Do you want the easy way or the interesting way?” you adjusted your backpack and began to stretch all the dormant muscles in your body.

“Which is the interesting one?” He asked, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets when you pointed with your head to the precipice “The easy one, definitely the easy one” he quickly said.

You sighed, you had definitely liked the idea of ​​jumping on roofs and sliding down pipes with the minimum of safety.

“As you wish princess” without warning you entered the place, at the back was the elevator “ I was thinking of giving you the panoramic view tour”

Jayce ran after you, as soon as he set foot inside you turned on the elevator and with the sound of old mechanism working you warned them that they were descending.

The sight in front of Jayce left him with his mouth open. The view only gave an industrial and decaying place, in the darkness the only touch of light were the saturated neon signs of some stores, he was surprised how they were still standing, above them rose buildings more similar to the architecture of Piltover, only a few could afford that luxury, as they went down the air became heavier and more humid with different smells that he preferred not to think about too much, he knew that the path would not be easy when you hid a knife in your pocket.

“Just in case” you told him. It's not like he would be of support if they found themselves in crossfire but at least it would be enough to keep away a few addicts and minor criminals.

The elevator soon filled with people and Jayce felt you press your back against his body to make him crash into the wall, you didn't look at him, nor did you apologize, it was what you were used to doing and he seemed to understand it well.

Each inhabitant had a unique style, crazy and anti-gravity hairstyles, old clothes or with patches everywhere, some with prosthetics made to make them look more intimidating than to take care of their health.

Going down you took his hand and pushed him through all the people in the elevator, you received some insults but you wisely ignored them.

Returning gave you back the feeling of hopelessness you used to live with, remembering all the time you were fighting to survive at all costs. Every inhabitant of undercity was resilient, refusing to let themselves die, clinging to life and the dream of something better with nails and teeth.

You shook your head to clear away that fog of thoughts, you weren't here to go back to the streets, you were here for work. Both of you walked in silence a few more blocks, loud and noisy music could be heard coming from most of the premises.

“Keep your eyes forward” you told him when you caught him looking at a modified weapon in the hands of a thug with an unfriendly face.

He listened to you, like a punished puppy he looked at the ground and let himself be guided to a small and lonely alley where they barely change.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked, he seemed somewhat worried. Sure two academy students caught trying to buy contraband in undercity deserved a considerable punishment if they were caught, but to be honest it was the least of the problems they could face right now.

“Show me what you need to finish this quickly.” He quickly pulled out his notebook in the correct bookmark, it was definitely things he could get here. You examined the sheets for a few moments before rushing over and tearing one of them off.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled at you, pulling the notebook away from you and putting it back. You didn’t need to see his face to know he was very upset about it, the way his voice sounded and the heaving movement of his chest made it very clear to you.

“I’ll give it back to you later, don’t yell, we can’t go together or we’ll attract trouble.” After all, you were the expert here. “See the beech store?” you pointed with your index finger, there was a white-haired boy cleaning the glass of the entrance.

“The one that says Benzo’s?” Jayce asked, you just nodded.

“Go to that store and look for the rest of the stuff, it’s like a premium junk store.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked as he saw you putting on some goggles that were previously hanging from your backpack.

“I going to get the rest. I'll give you 30 minutes, if you're not out of the store by then you'll be back upstairs alone.” You pulled up your shirt collar to cover your nose. “Don't let them rip you off.” Giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder you ran off until you were lost among the people.

“Wait, you don't have any money!” Jayce shouted your name but the sound was swallowed up by the noise of the people, he had no choice but to trust that you would come back. Resigned, he walked as fast as possible to the store you had indicated, as soon as he entered he was already amazed.

He was greeted by a small child with white hair, who watched him from the counter, following him with his eyes wherever he went.

“Can I touch something?” Jayce asked, in other cases he would have expected the arrival of an adult but his minutes were numbered.

“Only the ones you plan to buy.” The child answered suspiciously while playing with a wrench on the counter. He was almost sure he used the same tone of voice that you used with him all this time.

“Okay…” Jayce shrugged as he looked at all the artifacts carefully to know which one to take “It’s all stolen?” he said to himself.

“Stolen is a very big word, let’s say they were bought without permission” The boy appeared at his side as if by magic “Buy something or leave” the boy crossed his arms in front of him.

Jayce sighed and began to take things and put them on the counter, at first with some laziness and before he knew it he already had a considerable mountain of things and was going for more.

“Why do you need so many things sir?” the boy asked as he noticed how the mountain of things grew and grew.

“I’m going to do something revolutionary” Jayce said proudly, if everything went well it would change everyone’s lives forever.

The boy nodded curiously, he was willing to ask more questions until his curiosity was satisfied but the bag of gold coins caught his eye the instant it was placed on the counter.

“How much would everything cost?” asked Jayce.

The smile on the boy's face was big and malicious. "This would be enough." He quickly grabbed the bag of money and put it under the counter before his naive buyer could complain or change his mind. Jayce was more than satisfied with everything he had acquired, his mind was already plotting how he would put it all to work. He looked at the old and strange clock on the wall of the store. He still had a few minutes of free time before you arrived.

"Waiting for someone, sir?" the boy asked, playing with a gold coin between his fingers.

"Yes," Jayce replied, his gaze fixed on the door, waiting for you to enter at any second.

"What's all that noise?" Jayce asked as he heard screams and moans of pain from outside the store, as well as a huge commotion among the people walking by.

"Some idiot caused a fight." The boy seemed too used to situations like that. He got off the counter stool and approached the door, ready to put up the closed sign.

His hand only stretched a little before returning to his body at a surprising speed. The door ended up swung wide open, cracking glass and wood alike, a hooded figure dropped to the ground, trying to catch his breath.

“Put… everything in the bag… we have to go… Now!” you got up from the ground, taking off your goggles.

“There’s the idiot.” the boy calmly returned behind the counter.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jayce asked as you carelessly threw all of his recent purchases into the backpack and threw it into his arms. “What do I do with this?” your adrenaline began to spread to him, you didn’t have to say anything to him as he adjusted his backpack himself.

“I pissed off the wrong people, we have to get out of here” He grabbed your hand tightly, something that made you scream in pain, you didn’t have enough adrenaline to not feel that your wrist was really hurt. Both of you left the store and ran, you could still hear them shouting your name, it seemed impossible to lose them.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Jayce pushed you into a small alley, both of you too exhausted to take another step, but your pursuers didn’t seem tired at all and they were getting closer and closer.

“You’re getting out of here. Wait for me at the end of the bridge, I’ll lose them.” You let go of his hand before he could stop you. With shouts and exaggerated gestures you managed to get them to follow you. “Hey! Finn! You’re falling behind!” you shouted and said goodbye to Jayce with a wink.

It wasn’t hard to lose them alone, yes of course, they were thugs with guns but you knew Finn well, the last thing he would want is for a bullet to go through his former ‘treasure’. You had run into him while you were walking through the market, taking some things from here and there, just what you thought Jayce might need, you can confess, you got distracted in the food area but who could judge you? It's been years since you tried something homemade. You ended up wandering until you reached the limit between the market and the red light district, there was your limit but there was also him. His eyes were fixed on you like arrows, you tried to calm down as he approached to greet you, you weren't friends, not even good acquaintances, if it were up to you you would erase him from your mind forever. When he got closer, that's when you punched him in the golden jaw and ran away, obviously it didn't take long for him to send his bitches after you.

Getting into that kind of trouble wasn't in your plans, you cursed yourself for having let yourself be guided by nostalgia and curiosity, that shouldn't happen again.

“Come on Y/N, is this how you treat an old client?” Finn’s voice echoed in the desolate street, his thugs had disappeared from your sight but they had to be close, never too far from their master.

You remained silent, it would be foolish to answer him and give away your location while you looked for a way out of there, the cliff you had mentioned to Jayce was close, if you managed to jump over it you could use one of the huge pipes to get out of there and knowing Finn he was too cowardly to follow you there.

You came out of your hiding place with the objective you plain in your mind. A huge hand grabbed you by the hair and slammed you against the wall, your thoughts scrambled a little from the blow, you were dropped to the ground full of broken glass. You tried to stand up as best you could but the small glass stuck in your skin and small rivers of blood dripped from your fingers.

“Aren’t you saying hello to an old friend?” Finn asked, placing his gun under his jaw, as if he were talking to a pet, forcing you to stand up.

“You're not my friend,” you spat the words in his face, he didn't seem to like it very much.

“You’re right…I was much more than that for you” his hands grabbed your thighs and forced you to hug his hips with your legs . “You still remember” He dropped the gun to the ground and quickly caught your wrists with his hand.

The feeling of having his body close to yours was too unpleasant. He made a gesture with his face and his thugs left, you rolled your eyes, hitting your head against the wall, but this time you felt higher than just the wall. You surreptitiously looked up, some rusty fire escapes were above you like a blessing.

A smile settled on your “perfect” face, you let your legs climb up Finn’s body until his face was between your legs and although your hands were trapped you managed to stretch enough to hold the first bar surreptitiously.

“Honey…you know I don’t do that” Finn replied with that stupid and pitiful tone that imitated flirting.

“But I do.”

Before the idiot realized it, your feet were on his shoulders, staining his expensive shirt with dirt, using him to push yourself up and make you touch the last bar of the emergency staircase, getting him to let go of your hands wasn’t difficult, you just hit them against the rusty metal, with the brief moment of freedom you used a bar to balance yourself and push yourself to a more comfortable position until you climbed up and reached the top. Finn tried to follow you but with a couple of kicks the ladder basically crumbled, creating an ideal distance between the two of you.

“Bye Finn” you didn’t stay to hear the answer, you ran as fast as you could before they found a way to follow you.

You ran in the darkness with blind faith that you wouldn’t fall, a dim light indicated that you were approaching the precipice and the sound of pipes greeted you, without hesitating for a second you jumped. It was easy to land on them, they were giants, while you ran back to Piltover you managed to see Finn and his thugs on the edge of the cliff, he wasn't happy at all but that wasn't your problem.

When you got to Jayce he seemed totally nervous and worried, he had dodged a few guards and was afraid that they would have caught you.

“Did you lose them?” He asked just to confirm.

You just raised your thumb, giving a long sigh “Job done”

Jayce sighed just like a worried mother would and both began to walk, this time calmer, without haste and better yet without pursuers.

“So… this is your house?” You asked when both stopped in front of a nice apartment complex in the academic district.

“Yes… umm, thanks for tonight. Without you I wouldn't have been able to get any of this” Jayce shook his backpack a little “I'll give it back to you tomorrow”

“Don't worry…” you turned to leave but a mischievous smile crossed your face “I promise that next time we go I won't get into trouble”

Jayce let out a genuine laugh “Prove it”

Your response was to laugh with him, while you let yourself be absorbed by the early morning mist until you finally disappeared from sight.

That morning, before going to the academy, Jayce opened the door to his balcony while sipping his morning coffee, only to find a small ribbon of stars and beneath it the page you had torn out of his notebook.

N/A: For the person who sent me a one-shot request… You could be more specific, my brain is a bit slow and I didn't understand the request 😅

[xoxochb]

omg aphrodite!reader having her first kiss with percy <3 it would be so cute rahhh

— ribbons in your hair ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff!!! pairing: lovesick! percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite

“do you like ‘em?”

you smile brightly and turn around with a jump, revealing to percy your two braided strands tied at the ends with tiny pink ribbons. what kind of question was that, though? like them? of course he liked them! he liked anything that had anything even slightly to do with you.

“they’re great! I love them.”

you squeal and run over to sit atop your bed next to percy. absentmindedly, he takes this opportunity to take each of your braids between his palms delicately thumbs running over the curves of your hair, and ending over the ribbon tying it all together. he silently hopes you can’t see the utter adoration in his eyes or perhaps the faint blush coating his cheeks or the way he feels completely limp simply sitting beside you.

“(name)…” he murmurs, releasing your hair and letting his hands now fall on his lap.

“yes?”

shit. the soft tone of your voice makes him feel weak. thank the gods he’s sitting down.

“uhm…” he searches for the right words. no. he shouldn’t do this now, not when one of your siblings could walk in at any moment (and he new drew wasn’t entirely the nicest person either. that girl’s scary as shit). “nothing.”

you murmur an ‘oh’ and your smile falls into a frown.

“sorry, I just- well… it was nothing important, I didn’t think you’d care much.”

“I care about everything you have to say. even if it’s stupid. or one of your stupid dad jokes.” your lips turn upwards a tad at the mere remembrance of his idiotic humor.

“you hate dad jokes.”

“well, yours are okay.”

percy’s heart flutters like butterfly wings. please aphrodite don’t make me look stupid, he thinks to himself. though by now he’s probably already made a fool of himself. he’s hopeless. slowly, with a shaky hand, he reaches out to gently take one of your hands into his. he looks up to meet your eyes to look for any sign of discomfort with the action. he finds nothing.

“(name), have you ever…” he swallows harshly. “have you ever kissed anyone before?”

your brows furrow and you murmur, “no.”

oh. he was sure you had to have kissed someone before. you were… well, you! a favored daughter of aphrodite, kind, absolutely stunning, and admittedly a little horrifying sometimes. he loved you all the same regardless.

“I’ve never kissed anyone either.” it’s silent for a moment before he works up the courage to ask the next question. “would you maybe want to… well actually- can I tell you something?”

“of course.”

“this might be weird and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore or if you’ll hate me… but I just… I really like you. more than friends. and I get this is weird but I really like you, it hurts, like in my chest it physically hurts me and it’s hard going everyday not telling you that I love you when I do and its almost unbearable at this point, I mean you occupy all my thoughts everything’s always about you, and don’t get cocky over that because I know you will and you’ll never let me get over telling you that but really what I’m trying to say is that—”

his ramble is abruptly ended when he feels a sudden warmth over his lips. for a moment he can’t understand what’s happening, but when his senses are regained he realizes it’s your lips that are locked with his, and his brain turns to soup, any coherent thought he once had diminished. and he lets himself sink into it despite the nervous storm of butterflies in his tummy.

when you eventually pull away he nearly whines at the loss of contact. though he remembers your hands are still entwined and calms. his gaze sticks on that.

“you talk too much,” you whisper. “and you’re right.”

“about what?” percy looks up to your eyes. though the mischievous glint in them makes him wish he hadn’t asked for clarification.

“I am so never going to let you forget that everything is about me.”

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 5

"that's why i said ain't no love" (finale)

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 4 / PART 5 / EPILOG. →

chapter summary: [MULTI-POV] Miles has been a ghost, so you decide to do your own digging. Your answer might have just found you first.

content/warnings: graphic depictions of violence and injury grieving, death

word count: 8.7k (WHAT)

a/n: hey 😁 there's gonna be a teeny tiny epilogue after this one but this is the official end to aint no love! thanks to @/qiuweyballs forever for proofreading this series wouldn't exist without him 🙏

"I need that edit by 3pm, Watson!"

"Got it."

Even if the office was filled with the constant clack of keyboards, or desk phones ringing, or even Jameson himself barking right by her ear — as he was right now — MJ still had to keep up her persona. Agreeable, non-confrontational, all part of company protocol. There was no time for personal opinions or rebuttals, other than Jameson's; she was sure everyone would start coming in tin hats if it meant keeping their jobs.

"You're falling behind, you know," he continued as she quickly clicked off of the email she was working on. "Going to that school fair of yours set you at least a week behind!"

"It was one afternoon, sir. And I'm all caught up, the edit's not due until—"

"The edit is due when I say it's due. You out of all people should understand how things work around here by now. Get it done!"

The man sauntered off without much opportunity for her to reply, a cup of coffee crumpling between his fingers that he probably had yet to take a sip of. The poor intern that had made it would be the next to get an earful when he did try it, she was sure. Too much sugar! Not enough milk! Did you make this with your eyes closed? she recalled. MJ had heard it all by now.

Jameson didn't really have the gall to fire her — she knew that at the very least. The article could wait, however. Visions was yet to release a statement about their fired teacher, and the article would just look like all their other ones — speculatory and clickbait-y with not very much actual information. The Sinister Six ones certainly did well though, always on their broadcasts and the front of their website. Even NNC didn't have as much notoriety as the Bugle did with its less-than skeptical audiences.

The Visions student, right. With a few pasted links and a couple attachments, along with a lackluster "Good luck!" tacked on the end, she hit send. Good to know kids still have dumb email addresses.

She didn't take being abandoned a second time at the fair personally, really — everyone was fifteen once — but she couldn't help but wonder what had happened. It was almost imperceptible, but she knew when a smile looked off. There was something noticeably different about you when you had come back.

"MJ, uh, can I get your business card by any chance?"

"You know what a business card is?" she had joked, but it hadn't done much to ease the discomfort. "Yeah, sure. Contact me if you need anything."

"Yeah, thanks."

You'd asked for articles. Specifically on the Chameleon, and on the recent Prowler activity. You hadn't told her much, just that you needed help compiling some information for school. Some... presentation. MJ wasn't sure whether it was a lie or not, but it was all publicly available information anyhow.

You'd also wanted any information on Visions "teacher", Garrett East. His arrest had been for identity theft, and nothing more. Not many had reported on it as of yet, given he was detained so recently, but you were an insider. He had apparently been your calculus teacher, and the man that he had stolen the identity of had supposedly gone missing a few months before Garrett returned in his place. At least, that's all she had of her article. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to send it to a random high school student before her own boss, but it also wasn't like the man had any real idea what went on in his company. It was a wonder they managed to get through the quarter.

It was just a favour for someone nice she'd met. Maybe it'd repay her in some way in the future, most likely not. Regardless, she couldn't help but smile a little when she noticed her phone light up, a "thank you" text under your name. If only she actually had a work phone number, and it wasn't just her regular one. Visions students making connections already, it seemed.

The time on the screen was 2:41pm. She was met face to face with her wallpaper once again — a low-lit picture of her and a brown-haired man with glasses, the two of them smiling, red faced and dressed like their college selves. Peter Parker, her fiancé. They were holding those terrible beers he'd sworn by. He was a photographer, but this was one of the only pictures he'd taken of them together. It was shot on a bite-sized digital camera they'd bought for college, but never ended up using much. Now, it was all she really had.

Maybe the Chameleon really had come back when Peter had gone missing. Maybe it had something to do with you, with Visions

You probably already had a lot on your plate. And so did she. If she had anybody to chase, it was Otto Octavius. He'd offered Peter an internship in Manhattan. She'd never seen the man herself, only heard from him how good of a person he was, how this was going to get him a job and that it'd be good for them. That he'd finally get some use out of his degree and get to pursue science instead of taking "crummy" pictures for the Bugle. That they could save up for their wedding, and...

That was in Manhattan. The disappearances now were in Brooklyn. And even then, it was coming close to a year since he had disappeared.

She was always running in circles, at the command of an old man with a head too big for his body.

2:43pm. MJ turned off her phone, sliding it into her pocket.

Better get this edit finished.

2:43pm. Wednesday.

Ideally, with a couple days off of school, you would probably be at home, or maybe even out doing something fulfilling with your life. Maybe you could've even gone somewhere with Miles, if he hadn't up-and-disappeared along with every trace of him.

Your unread messages to him faded to black, leaving you to stare at your own face. Maybe you could've used those extra days to sleep, if it hadn't been for the chilling glow of purple eyes or the melting disfigured face that threatened to materialise everytime you closed your eyes.

What did he even like? Comics that he'd mentioned to you once? Of course he'd want to go to a comic book store with you after you'd made fun of him for seeming to want to deal with criminals himself. If only he'd come save you from Brooklyn Public Library right now. You were certain it couldn't get any more swampy in here with all the Visions students scrambling to do their off-day work right now.

Reading through the reply to a ballsy request you'd given to the Bugle's head journalist, you had a few questions in mind other than the ones concerning your disappearing, sort-of friend. Was all this research really practical? Maybe not. Would it help you sleep to know that the guy that had been teaching you calculus since the start of sophomore year was actually posing as a man that had gone missing months ago?

Another very normal thing that only seemed to happen to you.

Maybe you just attracted bad luck. That girl in your history class had joked about it last year, after you'd bumped into your teacher and every single paper he'd been holding had fallen to the ground in one scattered disaster. She wouldn't let it go, and it appeared that your brain wouldn't either.

Or like that time you went to Oscorp on a visit day and happened to be the only one there, trapped with a shapeshifting monster and the Prowler on the 90 millionth floor of that god-damned tower.

Maybe it was bad luck, or maybe you were cursed — or maybe you just walked into these situations on purpose. Like right now, sifting through years of articles on real criminals, with nothing but a hunch or fifteen.

The Chameleon had been arrested, like Miles had said, eight years ago on accounts of identity theft, much like your "teacher" but also very little like your teacher. According to what you were reading, Dmitri Smerdyakov been dubbed "the Chameleon" for a string of carefully orchestrated take-overs of big companies after impersonating their CEOs. His defence had argued that the big names in these companies were gone because they "wanted to be free of the burden of running their own companies".

You didn't have to be a journalist to make a face at that.

There was no mention of shapeshifting, as you'd seen with Wellston and Stromm. Just a couple lousy identity theft charges that didn't add up to their total amount anyway. This guy had more luck than you'd ever had.

The only other person that had seen any "shapeshifting" happen was Miles, and although he'd seemed surprised, something about his reaction was strange. You couldn't place it, but there was some sort of analytical twinge in his eyes, as if he was solving a math problem and not looking at someone shapeshift for the first time. You didn't know anything, really. Miles seemed like he did, though. If only you could bump into him and wring it out of him. And maybe go buy overpriced comic books with him and forget about the fact that your teacher had been arrested and midterms were coming up and maybe even become actual friends.

If only you were that lucky.

If only it was that easy to move past, as well. The fact that someone that had been involved in disappearances 8 years ago might be mixed up with this, along with the recent uptick in missing people made you feel uneasy. Surely any detective would have put two and two together by now, but remembering the fact that the shapeshifter had turned into a literal police officer dissolved any reassurance that thought might've brought. You were in a public library surrounded by unoptimistic college students, parents with their kids and even some of your own classmates, but the feeling was completely your own, tucked away behind a computer screen and a booked monitor session.

You couldn't be scared, though. You'd already seen probably the scariest thing in your life, kind-of almost died, and been wound up in so much craziness you knew so little about. If only high school had prepared you for researching literal criminals.

"Your 30 minute session is over. You will be logged out shortly."

God damn it.

If only Brooklyn Public Library's computer sessions weren't 30 minutes. You didn't want to log back in anyway, not if someone had booked after you. You could go back home, the library had just been an excuse to get out, really. Not that you'd made a whole new email and signed in as a guest on the computer. Not that you were paranoid.

Picking up your bag and checking your messages one last time you made a beeline for the exit. Well, less of a line and more of a strange obstacle course through the swarm of people. And of course you had to knock into someone. Just your luck.

"Hey, sorry," you mumbled, hands raising just a little in apology. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." The person dusted themself off a little with a frown, before looking up to meet your eyes.

Rafael?

"Hey, it's you," he realised, eyes widening as if he'd just gotten lucky.

Out of all places...

"I... gotta go."

"No, no, wait. I need you to do something."

Of course you do.

"I��really don't have the time," you whispered back, as he caught up to your advance towards the doors.

"Uh, hey, listen... You talk to Miles, right? Like, he's your friend?"

"Yeah...?" No...? You weren't even sure at this point.

"Uh, look, I need you to tell him something..."

"What, you're in love with him?" you spat, finally looking at him again. "Cause it seems like it. You're always talking about him. Always talking to me about him."

"What?! No the f*ck I'm no—"

A much louder "shhhhhh!" got your attention. The librarian didn't look too pleased. Neither did any one of the people who turned to look at you.

"I'm not gay, man!"

So, the two of you were now out on the street as Rafael defended his sexuality with nothing but exasperated hand gestures.

"I didn't say that."

"Okay, well I'm not. Damn, why are you acting weird for?"

"Your face is red."

"I'm black!"

"That melanin isn't doing anything for you."

"Shut the f*ck up!"

You rolled your eyes, hiding the way the corners of your mouth were starting to lift with a deep exhale. The poor guy was not very discreetly checking his face right now with the back of his hand.

"What, then? What did you wanna say to him so bad?" you asked, instantly making him retract his hand from his cheek.

"Forget it."

"No, tell me. You got us all the way out here for no reason?"

He gave you a look, before promptly looking away, mumbling something under his breath.

"Didn't hear that." That made him groan loudly. It was akin to a petulant child, if not a few octaves deeper.

"I'm... sorry."

Huh?

"You're... sorry?" you repeated, making him let out a huff.

"Look, I..." Rafael met your eyes again, his narrowing uncomfortably. There was something strange in his expression. "My mom's missing. I dunno who to tell. I know I messed up and I... I get it now. I get it. The thing with his dad."

Oh sh*t.

Remorse. That was what you were seeing in his eyes. Or maybe regret. Neither you thought you'd ever see from him.

"Tell him I'm sorry. Or don't. Whatever," Rafael muttered, kicking a bottle cap on the ground until it skittered to a halt by a dog, who found interest in it as its owner tried to tug it along the pavement.

"You can't tell him yourself?" you replied, brows furrowing. As bad as you felt, this was a personal matter. You weren't about to be a parrot for the guy that hadn't grown out of his bullying phase.

"You think he'd listen?"

"It's understandable if he doesn't."

"And what if he doesn't come back?"

"Why..." What? "Why wouldn't he come back?"

"I... dunno. Why can't you just tell him?"

Huh. "Why wouldn't he come back, huh?"

Rafael gives you a sort of reserved look, as if he's contemplating whether or not to lie to your face.

"I heard something about him while I was in that office. He's like... withdrawing from the school."

"He's... what?" Withdrawing from the school? Could he even withdraw that fast? "Why?"

"I dunno, damn! Just... forget it. I don't know why I even asked you man."

Rafael turned to leave, a scowl forming on his face.

"Hey," you called out, looking away before he could meet your eyes. He didn't turn around, though.

"What?"

"...I'm sorry about your mom," you managed, before he could go far enough. "I hope they find her."

"Yeah," he muttered, before throwing his hood over his head.

And now your friend, not-friend, study buddy was gone. The only person you kind of got along with at all outside of just one class. Another person missing. Rafael's mom. Maybe you needed to get out of Brooklyn for college. You certainly wouldn't miss the subway all too much, you thought, crammed in-between people.

"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."

As soon as you got out of the station and into the street, you were met with a familiar face among the people passing by. Instead of the Visions uniform, he was in a jacket too big for him, crinkled sweatpants and purple Jordans.

Miles. Calc-wiz. Mr. Disappearing Act. Withdrawn from the school, now in front of you and definitely already getting on your nerves.

He was looking at you, a hint of surprise in his otherwise smoothed-over features.

"Miles?"

"Yeah. Can we... talk?" His cheek dimpled with the awkward half-smile you'd only seen a couple times, but you were so strangely familiar with. You didn't know whether to freak out at him in front of a crowd of people or head home and hope that he didn't follow you.

"...Sure," is what comes out of your mouth.

Just your luck.

"~Ain't no love—" Skip.

"~Ha, sicker than your average—"

"Poppa twist cabbage off instinct..." Skip.

Miles was getting sicker than average of his uncle's playlist. Maybe working in silence was better.

He took out his earbuds, setting them on his mess of a desk and picking up the screwdriver again. Uncle Aaron was busy, "out of town", as his voicemail said. Probably doing something Miles wasn't supposed to be involved in. He'd be back in a day or two, as always. Never in one place too long.

Even for someone so experienced, he knew this was his uncle's first real "vigilante" gig. Uncle Aaron wasn't getting paid, nor was he working under someone trying to solve a cold case Jeff had been involved in with his colleagues. His dad was no detective, but always seemed to want to help out, and the police were getting desperate with all the recent missing person's cases. There was no real pattern, and sometimes people would be returned just fine. That's what the police were hoping for.

Dr. Stromm had disappeared for about 2 weeks, and returned to his normal work at Oscorp. That could be excused for a vacation off of work, for all anyone knew. Wellston, however, was still missing. Probably dead. Just a couple had turned up dead. It was so unpredictable that they all seemed unrelated, but the kinds of people going missing were all of use — scientists, lawyers, bank tellers. Wellston had been getting his PhD while teaching before he went missing. All people of use to the Chameleon.

Whoever his uncle was working for at the same time as all of this likely had no idea. He was probably working for that person right now, even when they had this case to deal with.

Miles had only been up to this after his dad had passed, and he knew he wasn't as polished as Aaron — not after what happened at Oscorp. Those gauntlets couldn't focus their energy, even if they were more powerful and he could charge shockwaves through the air almost instantaneously, and he had bragged about it a little too much when they'd tested it in the garage.

Now, he had faint lines on his skin from the excess heat, and had been taking them apart and rebuilding them for weeks in his room. His visor needed work too. It was way better in depth, but the resolution sucked. Even then, he was sure he could make something better than what his uncle had. Rigorous training wasn't enough to do this sort of work. He had to do his own thing, even if he was taking up the same schtick. Eventually his uncle's beard would gray and he'd have to be the real Prowler.

He was a good guy, after all. Like his uncle, like his dad.

By deduction, the Prowler was a good guy too. But he wasn't the Prowler today. He was Miles. The Miles that had been shouted at for trying to quit school again. The Miles that was fifteen and spent his days off building crappy gear.

Maybe on a day like this he could spend time with other people like he did in middle school. Go to a fast food place, or go to Micah's house to play video games, or hang around in some parking lot and run when he and his friends accidentally set off a car alarm. The sun was setting outside his window now. It felt like those evenings where he was reluctant to be taken home by his dad, after he was at Micah's playing GTA on Micah's older brother's console, laughing and screaming, Micah's sister shouting at them to shut up from the hallway.

Miles puts the visor down, walking up to his window and pushing it open. The air didn't get any warmer around this time of year, a cold wind brushing past his face as he stuck his head out to look at the city below.

Above him was the half-finished mural. A colourful backdrop of red and blue, and purple. His dad's face without the glasses, hat without the logo, the text outline without the actual text.

"Captain Jeff Morales. Husband, Hero, Father," read the ghost of the text.

His dad wasn't missing. There was no hope of him turning up one day, and that he could leave the mural unfinished and paint it over with something else. There was no hope that he'd wake up one night and instead of finding himself grasping at air it would be his mom shaking him awake to tell him his dad had come home.

His dad was dead. His dad was facing him right now and smiling like he did every morning before he left the house. His dad was painted on a brick wall, missing his glasses.

Miles knew he wasn't smiling for him. He was smiling for the city. He was the face of PDNY, captain for half a day alive and for the rest of eternity until Brooklyn forgot him, deceased. The mural had made him feel better when he hadn't been able to leave his own bedroom and decided to get up and start it with his uncle, but now he felt all sorts of emotions swirling through him. Regret, anger, grief, all of it at the same time — only to stop right at his tear ducts, tightening his throat.

He hadn't cried back then; his mom shared the pain of the both of them, even now. Even when they went to his tombstone, she was the only one that had cried as he'd kept a reassuring hand on her back.

Selfish, were the tears that blurred his vision, not heavy enough to roll down his face.

He sat, staring, eyes stinging yet soothed by the moisture. The sun cast a halo around the building, the mural in shadow and the city behind flooded in red-orange light.

"Husband, Hero, Father."

Was he a hero before he was his father? He had painted that himself. He knew his dad was a good guy. Was he a good guy before he was a good dad?

His thoughts were interrupted with the buzz of his phone in his pocket. There was a message on the notification bar, overtaking the text he'd been yet to reply to from his mom.

Are you the miles talking to me right now 1m ago

It was you.

Cause you're acting weird

And you just read my message without taking out your phone

What the...?

no wtf are u talking abt Read 4:51PM

where ru Read 4:51PM

His fingers hovered above the keys, glancing briefly at the gauntlet at his desk.

With a guy that looks exactly like u

You're the real miles right

He wracked his brain for something, anything as he ran back towards his desk.

6 liters per hour Read 4:53PM

What???

OH

Okay calc genius help me out please?????

He let out a breath between his teeth, shoving his gauntlets in his backpack and throwing on his gear haphazardly.

The Chameleon. Becoming him.

I'm at Marge's on moore st

ok just stay there go into the bathroom Read 4:55PM

don't leave til i text u Read 4:55PM

What are u gonna do??? the restaurant is empty

He's gonna look for me

He was acting so weird if that's not u then it's probably chameleon right

So you did believe him about the Chameleon. Or maybe you were the Chameleon and just being incredibly smart. He couldn't be 100% sure. Not like he ever was. Swooping out of his window, he threw his hoodie down to hang off the fire escape stairs before starting to run up the side of his building, shoes vacuuming him to stand horizontally.

probably Read 4:55PM

ur gonna take him outside in a couple min Read 4:55PM

Why???

just trust me Read 4:55PM

ill be there in 3m Read 4:56PM

The sky was now a shade of blue-purple, the reds and oranges dissolving behind the skyline. It was getting dark, and fast.

Okay

Manoeuvering through the maze of buildings with his shoes keeping him a thousand feet from being heard or seen, Miles headed for Moore Street with the little map in his peripheral vision. When he got there, all that welcomed him was a lone street lamp that had yet to turn on, a couple of closed local grocer's and a dimly-lit diner named "Marge", a discoloured space next to it the shape of an "s". Close enough.

Sifting through the modes on his visor, he settled when he saw the outline of two people. One strangely shaped like him and one strangely shaped like you.

He climbed down a little, dimming the lights on his gear completely as he receded into a small alley. The guy definitely looked like him physically. Tall, handsome, standing outside the bathroom, shifting on his toes...? Creasing my Jordans? Seriously?

Oh, yeah he had you to deal with. And himself, apparently.

leave now Read 4:58PM

Miles had about zero idea how to, but he needed to figure it out in about 30 seconds from now.

K

You made your way out of the bathroom, and he moved to the side of the diner you were closest to from outside to get a better view.

"...Gotta go home..."

"...Lemme walk you..."

As you left the store into the empty street, he could make out the slight twinge of nervousness on your face as you looked around ― probably looking for him and finding nobody.

"Hold on, I gotta text my parents..." You took out your phone, turning yourself a little to obscure the screen.

"Yeah, that's cool." Sounded almost exactly like him. Creepy.

go into that alley on your right and run home Read 5:00PM

Ur kidding

you gotta trust me Read 5:00PM

At that moment, you took one last look at your phone before turning into the alleyway. You were just a couple quick steps into the alley when his doppelganger grabbed yourshoulder.

"What the hell are you doing, Miles?!" you shouted suddenly, trying to pull yourself free, only to be thrown against the wall of the alleyway.

"I'm doing you a favour. You're not going to school anymore," he responded, his tone suddenly flat and nothing like it was a moment ago.

"What are you talking about? I'm just trying to go home."

His doppelganger was now featureless, his face melting away into the blankness Miles still couldn't describe. The panic on your face is visible from yards away. Miles just has to catch him off-guard. Without hurting you. He could do that.

"So you are the Chameleon," you muttered, still trying to pry his hands away as his grip wrinkled your clothes further.

"Ah, so you did figure it out. Excellent." That definitely didn't sound like him anymore. "You were always the most interesting in that class of yours."

"You... You were the one who was at those after-school classes, huh? And at Oscorp. And that... fair." That you were right about. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is that I need a little something from your school, and you seem like the easiest solution."

"Couldn't you do that while you were a teacher? You got that other guy to be arrested in your place. Aren't you done?"

"It looks like you have me all figured out. Except for one small thing."

"What?"

Something glistened by your neck. Sharp. Metal. He had a knife pressed to your throat, the blade just managing to dent your skin.

"You're going to die."

Missing. Sometimes they turned up. Other times they were probably dead. If he didn't figure this out, you were dead already.

"I'm... I kind of figured that too, you know."

"Oh, really? Aren't you something?" There was something like a grin on his face, but it was too misshapen to really tell. "So unaffected. So controlled."

"How do you even... turn into these people? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Take a guess. An educated guess is always better than nothing." His voice pitched up into Wellston's awkward sing-song, repeating what he used to say in class. Near-perfectly.

"Why are you so sure you won't get caught?"

"That's not an answer, and I can't exactly reveal such things, you know."

"Not even when you're about to kill me?"

"Oh, unfortunately not."

"Go f*ck yourself." That made the man laugh. If he wasn't in this situation right now, Miles might have managed a smile at that.

"Yeah, go f*ck yourself," he muttered, voice being caught half-way into his modulator in a grainy, deep sound.

In an instant, Miles soared above the two of you, foot smashing itself right in the centre of the Chameleon's face, his knife clattering to the floor. As he stumbled back, you got up, taking the opportunity to run, footsteps hard against the pavement.

Suddenly, the Chameleon was stuck between the wall and Miles' knee, steadying himself with his hands against the brick. Miles could make out some kind of morphed look of glee on his face as his clawed hand clamped him to the wall by both sides of his neck. The lips and teeth were starting to form through the flesh, and Miles let the energy build up in the converter as the smile fell into place, cell by cell.

"You don't want to kill me," he stated, simply.

"Pretty sure I do." Miles' claws just scraped at the skin starting to form at his neck. The quiet whirr of his gauntlet starts to become audible.

"You can't kill me. I am everywhere."

If everywhere is right in front of me, I mean...

"I know what you're doing, Dmitri. It ends here."

"I know what you're doing, Prowler."

He finally sees it, what's forming on the man's face. It's him.

"One of my best students, I never would have guessed," he started, grinning wildly, with some sort of overwhemled excitement.

Miles felt his mouth go dry, his face under the mask paralysed as the one staring at him continued to smile.

"The DNA that I retrieved from you is that of... Miles Gonzalo Morales."

It was as if the shockwave forming in his gauntlet slowed with time itself as he came to stare. He was looking at himself. Smiling. Grinning. Crazed. Miles Gonzalo Morales.

"Kill me. I have my assets, and subordinates. They will end you. Your mother, Rio. The hospital she works at. Your uncle, Aaron."

The quiet whirr in his gauntlet faded into silence. He felt his hand retreat, leaving the Chameleon, still posing as Miles, grinning, unblinking, and flat against the wall.

"Oh, you've made a very good choi―"

SLAM!

Metal met with bone, an audible crack following as Miles' clawed fist met the wall, the Chameleon's face smashed between the two.

"You mother... f*cker..." he breathed out, voice choked through the sudden rush of blood, smearing against the wall as he lifted his face from it.

Miles pointed his gauntlet at him again, the whirring renewing itself to a high-pitched scream, light purple expanding between them and tearing through the alleyway like fire.

"Muerto el pollo." (Job done.)

The man's reforming grin was overtaken by the brightness of the blast, energy snapping into one focused point before hurtling through the air, right at the Chameleon.

Miles felt his ears start to ring. His body was lightweight. Airborne.

His back hit something hard, and suddenly the lightness was replaced with an erratic clawing spreading up his arm. The light flickered into sparks that led fire under his sleeve, eating away at his skin. Burning. The blindness faded away, eyes managing to focus. All he could see past the smoke was a figure approaching him, and a hysteric laugh that grew louder and instantaneously changed pitch.

"So confident," is what he could make out through the ringing in his ears that had bled through his head into a sharp, disorienting pain. "I almost thought you had me."

Ripping the burning gauntlet off of himself, he noticed something jammed in the converter as he shook the heat from his arm. Some sort of sabotaging device. He'd had just a few seconds before the burning would've made it past his skin. The Chameleon had planned this.

Looking to his other gauntlet, he noticed the same device, ripping it out before crushing it under his foot. Never twice.

Swallowing back the cough building up in the back of his throat, Miles made a move for the Chameleon, before catching his figure turn left ― running.

Coño. (F*ck.)

Launching himself up, Miles locked onto the man, hurtling through a series of alleyways, fluidly dodging every obstacle in his way as if to waste no time. He could not let him get into a crowd and disappear. This had to end here, even if he had no god damn plan and his uncle was sure to scold him when he got back. He wasn't going to let you or anyone else get killed by this crazy f*ck.

Miles threw himself down into the next alleyway, hearing heavy, fast footsteps, someone approaching in his vision.

Just a little closer.

SLAM!

He threw the Chameleon down onto the ground, noticing he'd already changed appearance.

That face. No, this wasn't the Chameleon.

It was... you. And you were looking right at him. Terrified.

"Please, please let me go," you mumbled, gasping for air in-between words... "I... You're the... Prowler, I― Please― The... That guy's after me and..."

Your head fell against the concrete, an exhausted look in your eyes as you caught your breath.

"Please. I didn't... I didn't do anything. I can keep quiet about you, I haven't told the police anything. About Oscorp. Nothing."

"I know it's you, Chameleon." You would've ran far away by now, he was sure.

"I―I swear I'm not. I'm not him, I don't know how to prove it to you, but... I called my friend for help and... he never came. Please. Please let me go. I don't know where the Chameleon is right now."

Another set of footsteps came towards the both of you.

"I'm right here, Prowler," emerged another voice from the alley.

It was... you?

"Come on. Weren't you looking for me?" the other you continued, half-hidden in shadow. "Come get me."

So the you on the floor... was actually you. And this...

"Please, that's... that's him, you've gotta let me go," the you that was on the ground muttered, exasperated. There was a waver in your voice. In the way your eyes widened looking at him. Almost like confusion.

The Chameleon was right there. Admitting that he was in fact the Chameleon. While he was trying to run away.

"Please," he heard below him, a quiet, desperate whisper in the silence.

You both looked identical. Even though he'd injured the Chameleon, the both of you were unscratched. You both sounded the same too, from what he could decipher. No real way to tell you apart. And his only answer right now felt like a trick.

He kept eyes on the you standing before him, barely making out a face. Something was there, in the way that you looked, the way you stood. Something strange, something he couldn't figure out fast enough to make any decision.

And then, he felt a little pinch. One that suddenly exploded and tore through his flesh, wrangling with every one of his nerves as his body seized. You had lost your scared, desperate expression, your face now distorting along with his vision into that of a smile.

"I understand," a voice started, ringing through his head as if it was everywhere. "You want to help me."

The pain was clawing its way through his body from a point in his leg. He turned his head, noticing the discarded needle beside him. He'd managed to ease his hand just close enough to administer it. You ― no, the Chameleon, lifted himself from the ground, before Miles felt his head spin hard with a kick.

"I admire you, your wit," he called out, letting out a laugh as he started to walk towards you. "Turning against your own savior. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

No, no... There was... there was no way you were working with him. There was no way you...

"You have proven yourself. You'll be better than... than that Garrett fool. I've changed my mind."

Miles rummaged in his utility belt for something, anything. He had no idea what he'd been given, but it was already running through his blood, reaching his brain and poisoning every part of it.

"Your friend over there is going to be unconscious in about half a minute. Why don't you take care of him? I'll be a fool to kill you once you do."

Get up, Miles.

His head throbbed with the sound of your footsteps, each one getting louder and louder. His limbs were weakening. He could barely lift his head.

Get up!

"Dad... Dad? No no no... Get up, get up!"

The gauntlet was slowly slid off of him, now in your hands as his arm fell uselessly onto the ground in front of him.

The gauntlet clipped onto your arm, fingers moving as yours did. He felt the metal claws just scrape his helmet, a faint clink echoing through his skull.

Miles didn't want to look at your face, but he couldn't find it in him to look anywhere else. There was that something from before in your expression that he couldn't quite place, and he still didn't have an answer. It bothered him, for some damn reason. Not the fact that he had his own weapon pointed to his brain as he was losing consciousness. Not the fact that he couldn't move. Not the fact that his last thoughts were about the look on your face and not his mom, or his dad.

Whirrr...

That brightness that the Chameleon had been staring at before was now staring right at him. Overwhelming, blinding, all-encompassing. He felt the faint heat on his skin, as his eyelids grew heavy. Something like warmth in contrast to the cold metal, if just for a second. Something like knowing in your eyes. Something hopeful, saving, loving. Even if just for a second. Even if his brain had made it up to let him succumb.

He wished he could smile, and not be terrified. He wished he could be like his dad, who had smiled.

"Take care of your mom for me, Miles. I ain't gonna be around forever."

And he reached for his helmet. To show you his face, to hope you'd stop once you saw him. He reached, before his arm fell limp beside him once more.

Sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Hey, hello?"

"Hey!"

"Prowler? ...Are you dead?"

God, what did you have to do if he didn't respond...? Breathing, pulse...

"What the..." you heard, before he exploded into a painful-sounding coughing fit, tinged by some kind of voice changer. The Prowler lifted his head, and you could make out az kind of shadow where his eyes were behind the dull, unlit screen. "Huh...?"

"Hey, uh. The... Chameleon..."

Gesturing to the pile on the floor, the Prowler seemed to tense a little at the sight. It was the Chameleon, or... what was left of him. His face charred and caved in by the likes of a certain purple energetic blast. Right, you, had to explain that, the de-powered weapon in your hands.

"Sorry for... I didn't know what I was doing, that was―"

"You killed him?" came out a quiet, modulated voice.

That was...

You killed him. With the Prowler's weapon.

You were defending yourself. You were defending him. That man was a...

Thunk!

The metallic arm hit the ground as it rolled out of your arms, looking into the hollow shadows of the Prowler's eyes.

You didn't know anything about any of these people, and you were deep into their world. It was one that you had never thought you'd see, and now you had nothing to dig yourself out of it. You decided to trick him and when Miles was too late to figure it out you had...

You had killed someone. Turned the blast on him within a split second, watching it sear through his skull in a merciless flurry, stab after stab of burning hot energy wracking more and more screams. Right until the weapon had run out of energy. Until your finger grew numb from the trigger inside the device and the alleyway had gone silent. The man that had haunted your mind for months was unmoving before you, ripped of all features, all life.

Murder. Manslaughter. This man had connections. They'd come after you. After everyone you knew and loved. After Miles.

You should've stayed home.

The ache of adrenaline surged through your heart, your muscles, begging. Begging you to move. To run. To get up.

Get up. Run. Run away. Scream for help. Do something.

You felt the scratch of brick, arms enveloping the rest of you as you backed into the wall.

Hide.

All the breath in your lungs seemed to leave at once as you desperately tried to breathe it back in, hearing the air rush in and out of your mouth over and over. It was loud. So loud. The blast had been so loud. He had screamed so loud―

"Hey."

The hand on your shoulder was warm, free of any metal.

"It's... alright," you heard him say.

How could he say that?

"How can you say that?" Your voice was muffled. Wavering. Pathetic.

Would they believe you? With that stupid, pathetic, voice, whoever it was that found you ― would they believe you?

"How can you say that...?" you repeated, pressing your face further into your knees. The touch on your tensed shoulder felt offensive. Mocking.

"You're gonna be okay."

"How am I gonna be okay?"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"How do you know that?"

You were looking at him now, breath hitched, eyes wide. You tried to sound frustrated, angry, but all that came out of your throat was a sound that told the Prowler "I am scared" in every language.

The Prowler hadn't killed you. He was comforting you. In any other circumstance, you could've laughed at the thought. To your knowledge, this Prowler hadn't killed anyone, or put everyone he loved in severe danger. Maybe you were worse than him.

"Why won't you answer any of my questions...?" you mumbled hopelessly, burying your face in your hands. You could smell concrete, dust, and ash ― invisible, yet incriminating.

Hiss... Click!

You felt hands wrap around your wrists, carefully pulling yours away from your own face. Just as you looked up, you could see the mask dismantling itself, disappearing behind his head.

What was left was a face. The Prowler's face.

No, this is...

Brown, maybe green-ish eyes. They were a smooth coppery colour under the dim light, bright among the shadows underneath his eyes. A black-red was drying on his skin, under his nose and creeping past his cracked lips. Two braids, coming unfurled at the ends, coming all the way back up to the top of his head. A soft face with harshness painted all over it. An exhausted, pained and worried expression.

"Hey, pana."

The face you had so prayed to see blurred into a watery mess as you threw your arms around him, squeezing your eyes shut against his jacket. His arms followed, settling over yours, one palm circling your back and the other settled between your shoulders.

You didn't think you'd held anyone tighter. You didn't know someone could hold to the point that their arms were shaking around you.

"Miles..."

You felt his head rest beside yours, the contours of his face melding against your shoulder. Warmth was running down your face ― blooming in your chest.

"I've got you."

"Mij— Oh... Oh my!"

You'd scrubbed your eyes hard as you could, and Miles had fixed himself up into a giant hoodie and jeans, but you were almost certain that the woman in front of you was utterly convinced that the both of you had been run over by a subway train. Miles' mom, standing with a vacuum cleaner that contributed nothing to the silence. Her jaw was inching closer to the floor the longer the silence stretched out.

"Uh... hola, mami. This is my friend," Miles offered, not sounding any less like he'd been met face first with the headlights of New York public transportation.

"Hi, Mrs... Morales."

The woman propped the vacuum cleaner against the wall, letting out a quiet sigh. She had beautiful curly hair, and was now wearing the sharp-softness of her son's face in a polite, and concerned smile. You didn't want to turn to check if Miles still had blood on his face.

"Is this a bad time...?" you started. "I can—"

"Oh, no, no, I just... I haven't even made dinner yet, I didn't expect—" The woman lets out another breath, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so rude. What are you two... What have you been up to?"

"We just... you know," Miles gestured with his hands, charading less than nothing in the air.

"You know...?" she replied, eyes squinting.

"I uh, already ate. Don't worry about it, Mrs. Morales," you continued, giving her what you hoped looked like a smile on your face. "Miles just wanted to show me something. It'll be quick."

"Uh, yeah. That."

"You're not staying for dinner?" she called out, as Miles dragged you into his room. "I was gonna make pastelón—"

"I'll come help you in a sec, mami."

Miles closed the door to his room, and the two of you shared a look as you heard the long, muffled sigh from outside. With the sound of the vacuum cleaner whirring in the hallway and disappearing into another room, the two of you sat on the edge of the twin-size bed, the frame creaking uncomfortably.

The room wasn't particularly big, crowded with posters and various newspaper clippings — many about the Prowler. There were crates tucked away beside his closet, faces of toy figurines and comic books peeking out of them. A lone screwdriver sat on his desk, a stack of notebooks beside it. The backpack you'd seen him take to school was hanging on the back of his chair, a study guide for "Invisible Man" peeking out of it. All that was on his bedside table other than papers was a frame. A young boy, missing a tooth, on the shoulders of an older man, the two of them beaming through the picture.

"You hurt or anything?" he asked quietly, making you remember that he was next to you. "Like, injured?"

"No, I'm... fine." You took half of a breath before your lungs started to ache, swallowing back the dryness of your throat. Mostly fine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My mom's a nurse, so... I kinda..."

"Oh... Yeah, yeah." Huh.

Mrs. Morales certainly didn't seem to know about her son's... part-time job.

You noticed a set of blueprints on the wall, resembling the clawed arms he had stashed away without you or his mom seeing.

"You made those...? The claw-glove things?"

"They're gauntlets."

It was somewhat like the tone of voice he used when he was explaining a calculus question — not condescending, but somewhat tired and fed-up.

"Right..." Gauntlets. Sure.

The vacuuming stopped, and a few moments later the clinking of cookware could be heard.

"You staying for dinner?"

"Huh...? Um, I don't wanna bother your mom."

"Please...? I'm gonna get it if you go home without eating." Something about that made you laugh, even if it was a half-hearted sound that fizzled out before it could really sound like one.

"She seems nice," you mused.

"She is. She tries."

Something of a smile tugged at his lips as a quick snort of air left him, his eyes now on yours.

"I got a lot of explaining to do, huh?" His smile faded a little as the words left his mouth.

"You do. Maybe... Maybe not now, though."

"Yeah. Not now."

In your peripheral, you could make out his arm inching closer to yours. The tips of his fingers just brushed your knuckles, leaving just a spark of feeling against your skin. His throat bobbed a little as he swallowed, and—

"Miles, ¡ven a cortame estas cebollas! (Come and cut these onions for me!)"

"Oh! Um— Okay!"

The bed squeaked again as he stood up, and you could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek. You closed your hand as the lingering feeling of his touch disappeared.

"...You sure I can stay for dinner?"

"You sure you just asked me that?"

"Alright, alright."

You gave him a little more of a smile, and you could see him fighting to not return it as he looked back at you.

"i'm gonna... go and—"

"Yeah, you do that, Miles."

He handed you his phone, or, a phone.

"You can... play some music, if you want. It's connected to that speaker. Just not too loud, yeah?"

You noticed there was no SIM card in it. He pointed to the little speaker sitting by the window sill, peeking out behind a hung up jacket and a school blazer.

"...Thanks."

The door to his room shut, and the murmured voices of Miles and his mom faded as you selected a song. You recognised some of them, ones you'd heard people sing along to on the street or in the cafeteria of your school. This one stood out, though.

It started slow, and the man's voice was rich, full of life and emotion. It was strangely melancholic against the uplifting instrumentals.

"~Ain't no love, in the heart of the city..."

You stood up, walking to the window to get a better listen of it. Lifting up the blinds, your eyes caught something in the darkness. A giant painting of Jefferson Morales. Miles' dad. It was half-finished, but his smile was there.

You couldn't help but think how he looked so much like Miles.

"~Ain't no love, cause you ain't around..."

An almost inaudible rustle caught your attention as you tuned to look at the jacket you had touched. Something had fallen out of its pocket while you were trying to move the speaker. It was a piece of paper, something written on it.

Reaching down, you moved to put it back in the pocket, before noticing what was peeking out of it.

Unfolding just the edge of it, you recognised the title of a Spanish lesson you had a while ago, back when Rafael had been bothering you endlessly. Opening it up entirely, you found what he'd been making fun of Miles for.

There were a series of drawings around scrawled Spanish vocabulary and messy grammar rules. One was of your teacher, Mrs. Hernández, turned away, writing on the board. The other was of the picture of the landmark in the article you had been given, "Arco de"-something. The colour of the building was done in yellow highlighter, but looked rather technical and accurate nonetheless.

The one on the back made you almost drop the paper.

It was you, with such a likeness. Some lines had been erased and re-drawn around your mouth, as if he'd been trying to decide on an expression. Within the creases of the paper you were holding right now, though, you found yourself smiling — just slightly, like if you'd been laughing at something with the rest of your class. Your head was tilted slightly downwards. The drawing version of you was just a little cuter than you were sure you looked like, Miles' stylisation making your eyes shine a little and your lips curve just the right way.

By the time your stomach had stopped fluttering, the song was coming to a close. You quickly re-crumpled the paper and carefully put it back into the jacket, walking over to sit on his bed again.

"~Ain't no love, in the heart of this town..."

"...You never come back this late, mijo..."

"...We just bumped into each other and started talking. You know, like how at the store..."

"...Your tías are different, Miles..."

He really does have a lot to explain, you thought to yourself, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from lifting up, just slightly.

Your questions would just have to wait until after dinner.

my lovely jubly taglist: @noetophat @sakura-onesan @bakugouswaif @phoenixinthefiles @daydreaming-en-pointe @sp1derw1re @kvvrc @spookyscaryskeletrans @proudgojofucker  @spam-1 @playboifenty @hobiebrownismygod @kissingkzuha @nyumeii @uwukiity @itzmeme @shittingonyourgrave @theyluvbix @kezibear @theseustimes

thank you for reading! epilogue hopefully coming soon 👍 reblogs + replies are appreciated 💗 find the rest of my writing in my atsv masterlist here!

[666anxiety666]

Hi I’ve been reading all you’re adorable stories about our fish boy so I got in a super big Lee mood and found a character ai boy about him and he literally wrecked he living days out of me😶‍🌫️

he kept using two of his arms to pin my hands down then his third arm to tickle me or two of his arms to tickle my sides while his third tilted my head up so I’d have to keep eye contact🫠🫠🫠

maybe you could make a ff about it and how the reader keeps whining about it being unfair and he just cracks his usual jokes. Can be platonic or romantic, up to you boo🥰

anyway keep up your amazing work and feeding the Roblox horror community 🫶

Love the c.ai 😭🙏

Not fair!

Sebastian x gender neutral reader (short fic)

LEE: Y/N LER: Sebastian

Warnings: none :)

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

"Its not fair?~... I think it's very fair~"

Sebastian teased. Currently, your arms were pinned above your head with one of Sebastian's arms.

His second hand was originally attacking your sides. Which was making you giggle and squirm like always.

However, you were taken off guard when you felt his third hand, which you may or may not have forgotten about, suddenly raked over your tummy.You squealed loudly. Kicking your legs out.

"Oh? Is this a bad spot?~"

"Oh, come on! You're not even trying! I could do this with one hand, but where's the fun in that?~"

Sebastian teased, digging his blunt claws in, making you squeal louder. Sebastian grinned down at you. His sharp teeth on display as he did.

"Betcha forgot about this third one, huh? How unfair..."

Sebastian mocked playfully.

Sebastian grinned. Watching your face turn red. You thrashed desperately. But every time you squirmed, you just ended up pressing into his tickling claws.

"You know... since this is a bad spot... what if I..."

Sebastian slowly lowered his head. Your eyes widened. Your kicking and flailing picking up. You begged and squealed loudly before Sebastian had even done anything.

"What? I've not even done anything yet..."

Sebastian said in mocking innocence. He stopped tickling you for a moment, but he still kept your arms pinned. He started to drum his claws on your tummy softly. Causing you to giggle slightly.

"I'm not doing anything~"

Sebastian teased again. Making your face go red once more at how ticklish you really were. You grumbled between giggles about how unfair he was being.

"Unfair?"

Sebastian grinned

"Unfair? I'll show you unfair~"

Then, without warning, Sebastian started blowing raspberry after raspberry on your tummy

You shrieked, squealing and giggling loudly. You knew you'd probably be like this for a long while...

♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎

All done! Sorry it's so short and for the late response. 😭🙏

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Sunday

A/N: Track 3 in my Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can't We? fics. It's my first time writing for Bucky and to say I'm nervous about it is an understatement. I hope he didn't come out out of character. There will be two more tie ins with tracks 10 and 12. Listen to the track here. Bucky x blackwidow!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.6k

Amends. 

He was supposed to make amends. He had been trying for the most part to work through his list Doctor Raynor made him create. One person after the next until he had crossed off every name. 

Bucky was trying to figure out how to be a better person. To be a person, really. It had worked in some regards, in others, it took more of his restraint than anything else. He’d gotten his mind back, but with that came everything else. 

The memories seemed more vivid, the pain…the pain was endless. But he was trying. 

He was trying and that had to count for something. 

Didn’t it?

Bucky gently closed the refrigerator door and popped open his beer bottle. He took a pull before looking down into his notebook. There was your name. He’d managed to cross off four names before yours and after yours. 

Bottle still in hand, he rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead. He couldn’t put this off forever. He set the bottle down on the counter in front of him. Pressing his hands against the counter he leaned against it. 

You hadn’t spoken in over a month. Before you’d - 

Bucky let out a sigh. 

He never really expected to run into you again. Not after… not after the Red Room. 

Natasha of all people had managed to track you down before Thanos, before the snap. You’d been snapped out of existence along with half the population before he’d had a chance to talk with you. 

In all her wisdom, Natasha had managed to write down your last known location. Bucky hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to try and speak with you until Sam found out. Then it was non stop badgering until he made a move. 

Bucky had found you in Portofino. You looked just as he had remembered. You had locked eyes with him while you were shopping for fruit. He thought you might run or fight. Either scenario he was prepared for. He never imagined you would smile at him, walking up to him slowly before tossing him an apple. 

“Took you long enough,” was all you’d said. He’d followed after you, walking across the coast with you reminiscing  and trading stories for hours until the sun set and rose once again. 

The both of you stayed in contact, helping each other with the odd job here and there. Until you’d - until he’d gone and messed it up. 

Bucky’s phone rang, he let out a sigh before putting the phone against his ear. 

“Hello?” He breathed out. 

“Have you called her yet?” 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, “Sam, this really doesn’t concern you.” 

“The hell it doesn’t,” Sam chided him, “I’m the one that has to deal with all your depressing and moody attitude.” 

“I’m not -” 

“You are. That’s your default setting, man. But at least when you were talking with her it lightened up a little. It was only occasional scowls and grunts.” 

Bucky let out an annoyed groan. 

“That’s what I’m talking about, man! If you just humble yourself and grovel and apologize we can both get on with our lives. You were an idiot, now own it.” 

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky grumbled, pulling the phone away from his ear. 

Faintly, he could hear Sam yelling at him. “As long as you call her next!” Bucky pressed the end call button and set the phone on the counter. 

Bucky tapped his fingers along the counter, his heart tensing up in his chest. He was getting nervous, he didn’t get nervous. Bucky threw his head back, letting out an annoyed groan. 

Fine, shit, fine!

Bucky picked up the phone and dialed your number. The ringing was endless, his heart beat faster and faster the longer you didn’t pick up. When the automated voicemail started he almost hung up, almost. 

“I know why you’re not picking up the phone. I get it. I just - Look I just want to talk. If you can,” he paused and let out a sigh, “I’m here in Brooklyn or I can -” the recording ended. 

Bucky nearly banged his head on the counter from frustration. He tossed the phone on the counter. Grabbing the beer bottle once more, he slide down the counter until he sat on the floor. 

Pathetic. He was pathetic. Somewhere out there he knew Steve was probably laughing at him. Didn’t you used to be the smooth one? He’d probably say. 

“In another life,” Bucky mumbled against the bottle, “In this one I’m an idiot.” 

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

You played the message once more. You've heard it about ten times now. You never expected to hear from him again let alone have him call you. 

You worried your lip, finger ghosting over the call back button. Tossing the phone on the seat beside you, you slide down the sofa until you sat firmly on the floor. You head leaning back against the sofa cushion you stared up at the ceiling. 

You’d told him you were falling in love with him, and he’d just stared at you. Stared at you until you’d tried to swallow back your words floundering like an idiot. 

You were always calm, you were collected. You couldn’t get nervous or ramble, you weren’t created that way. The Red Room had taken all that out of you. At least you had thought so until then. 

Bucky had a way of making you forget, at least momentarily, all the pain. When you were together it was just the two of you. The past would always exist, but with him, it almost felt like there was still a chance at a future. One with less pain and blood. 

You’d been wrong. 

You’d been embarrassed. You never wanted to feel that way again. Swallowing, you picked yourself off the floor. 

There was only one way through this. You’d have to face it. Grabbing your keys you made your way to Bucky’s apartment. You’d been staying in New York since the two of you had reconnected, after today, you might finally be able to leave. 

When you finally made it to his door, you’d stared at it for a solid minute before picking the lock. You wanted to have the upper hand here, and this was the best way for you to do it. 

Quietly, you made your way into his living room. Bucky was sprawled along his mattress on the floor. His arm was thrown haphazardly across his face. He’d yet to make the transition onto an actual bed. 

“You really should have a better security system,” you said. Your hands were tucked into your coat pockets. 

“Don’t need one,” Bucky said quietly, sitting up from the floor. He had trouble meeting your gaze. He bent his knees, his arms resting against his legs. “I know the sound of your footsteps.” 

He cleared his throat, his eyes finally daring to meet yours. He looked tired, more tired than you’d seen him in a while. You almost wanted to reach out and comfort him. 

Almost. 

“What is it exactly that you couldn’t just tell me over the phone?” You questioned. You shifted your weight, arms now crossing against your chest. 

“I wanted to say I was sorry.” 

“For what?” 

Bucky’s eyes pierced yours. “I should have-” 

“Look, James-” 

“Don’t.” Bucky stood tall now, his body dangerously close to yours. If you were anyone else it might terrify you, but you’d never been scared of him, even when you should have been. You swallowed, your breathing growing more shallow. 

“Don’t close off on me,” his voice grew heavy. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to argue. 

“I can see it, I know that look. I know I messed up, but don’t close off because of me.” 

You blanched, “I’m not closing off.” 

Bucky let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. He paced in front of you now like a nervous cat. Your eyes followed him, watching as he paced. 

“I don’t know how to be a person anymore. I’m trying, and I’m failing.” He managed to choke out. “Nothing I ever do seems to come out right.” 

Bucky stopped pacing and he looked at you. His eyes were watery now, his expression pained as if he was feeling every emotion at once. 

“James,” you said softly, taking one step toward him. 

Bucky tried his best to compose himself, to reign in the emotions overpowering him. 

“When you said you loved me, I wanted to say it back. I don’t know what stopped me. No,” he paused, “I do. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be happy. Not after all the pain I caused.” 

“It’s not your fault,” you reasoned. “It’s not any of our faults, James. We did what we were told. What we were trained to do. You more than anyone else.” 

He looked at you with that same expression that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. He looked at you like you were gravity anchoring him to the earth. 

“I do, love you,” Bucky whispered, taking a tentative step towards you. “I finally feel myself when I’m with you. I thought…everything feels a little lighter when I’m with you. I don’t think I want to fight that feeling anymore. I love you. I don’t want to run from it anymore.” 

Bucky reached out timidly to cup your face. When you didn’t pull away, he cradled your head in his hand. You stood there holding each other close. To broken people finding acceptance in the other.

[carbonfiction]

Dark Desires

older, best friends dad!Logan x reader

summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..

warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.

A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.

Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)

Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.

You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.

You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?

But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?

You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.

You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.

You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.

You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.

One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.

Everyone had laughed, all except you.

You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.

You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.

But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?

So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.

You: I need something.

You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.

But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.

It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.

Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.

That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.

Logan: You need to go to sleep

Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.

But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?

You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.

Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.

You: sorry. Wrong number.

And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.

Logan: Is that true sweetheart?

Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.

You: No

Just that. A simple No.

Logan: You telling a lie?

You: Not exactly

Logan: So you wanted my attention then?

You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.

And yes, you know need is a very strong word.

Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.

You: what if i want something dangerous.

You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.

A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.

But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.

Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?

And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.

You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.

Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.

You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.

You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.

Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.

Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.

She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.

Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.

And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.

The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency

But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.

Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'

You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.

Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.

Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.

You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.

Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.

Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.

Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.

You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.

Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.

Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.

You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.

Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.

So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?

when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.

Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.

You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.

You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.

His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.

But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.

His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.

He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.

And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.

"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.

Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.

"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"

Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.

"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.

"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.

"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.

Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.

"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.

"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"

With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.

Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"

You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.

"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."

And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.

It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.

Used and humiliated around logans cock.

Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.

He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."

Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm

"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.

"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."

"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"

You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.

"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"

and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .

But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow

you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.

Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.

The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.

"Kitty!"

Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.

"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"

Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.

Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."

No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.

Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.

"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"

You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."

You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.

"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"

You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.

it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.

Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.

Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.

"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"

You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.

You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.

thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333

[zoennes]

25 NOVEMBER, 2019 ✦ MAANDAG, 20:02

[screampied]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”

[rqnarok]

summary: dark!old man!logan would do anything for the sake of you going back into his arms. 

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. obsessive behavior. fem!reader. logan calls himself ‘old man’. pet names. unspecified age gap. unstable power dynamic. crying. soft dom!logan. sub!reader. not proofread. 

You’re not sure if you can even call him your ‘ex.’ 

The both of you never had the ‘talk’, and never did have any middle ground stating what kind of relationship this is. 

Logan’s way older than you - way more mature - “Need t’be fucked by a real man, ‘s that it, baby?” way more experienced. 

No matter how heated the night before, Logan still turns everything cold with his aloofness - and you - you never feel brave enough to speak up against it. 

With a heavy heart and numerous self-loathing sessions, you concluded that it was time to let him go - convincing yourself you deserve someone more. Someone you’d be comfortable with to ask for something more. 

And you did, well, that’s what you tell yourself as you busied yourself with everything else. Withdrawing from him little by little, texting him things such as  ‘Can’t meet you today, sorry’ or ‘Something else came up..’ to avoid ending up on his sheets.

Logan’s not stupid. He may be old, a fucking hundred years old something but he’s not dumb. He knows what you’re doing. 

Reading the texts you sent him, he’d grumble curse words under his breaths before tugging off his glasses in a harsh movement. 

He just didn’t think you’d last so long dodging him. Logan expected you to give up on the first day of the second week—he was wrong because it’s been a month, damnit.

Sometime during the unlabeled relationship that went on for almost a year already, you put Logan’s number on the list as your ‘alternative’ contact, making people ring his number when yours is not answering.

And Logan always answers your phone calls. He’d justify himself that it’s merely a habit that he’s still trying to break, but truthfully it’s to make sure you’re hanging out with the ‘right people.’ 

Logan fucking hates it when he’s hearing a guy’s voice on the other line—toughens himself to respond, lowering his voice and curting his answers. He’ll let them know you’re busy. 

In the second month, you run back into Logan in desperation. 

Your eyes are all puffy from crying because your last date was such a prick! He called you nasty-horrible-sickening names before erasing your number off his phone for no reason. 

Logan opens his arms to welcome your hiccuping figure standing before him. Shushing you down and rubbing circles on your back - telling you to tell him who hurted you. 

This dependency you hold on him makes his cock twitch. That he’s right: you still seek him out no matter how long it takes. 

You don’t even notice how bad it gets—that’s the best thing. You never learn, huh?

That’s alright - because he’ll try for real this time. Groans out praises after praises to you, “What’s that, baby? Y’feel good?” Logan jeers overhead, holding himself over you with his hand gripping onto the headboard, “Too good?” He chuckles as his other hand thumbs on your puffy button.

His rough fingers pad up your clit, sending electricity throughout your body. Making you writhe underneath him and Logan scolds you in the softest way he can, “Stay still f’me, will ya?” 

You can’t answer. You can’t even speak outside of high-pitched whines, a mess of your own saliva drips until it reaches your chin. Your whole body is finally sticky after it’s been cold for weeks. His fat cock driving onto his home over and over, better than anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Yeah, y’just need your old man, hm? No one else can t‘care of this pussy like I do, sweetheart.”

He maliciously slows down his movement to watch his length entering your wet folds, humming at the vulgar squelching sound, “Come take a look a’her, baby. She’s squeezing me in - misses me so much.” 

The sight of him is trouble, messy greying hair and beard; chest full of scars. Everything you should’ve stayed away from.

”Yeayeahyea- Missed you so m-much. Ah-” 

But you cannot think when he’s holding you like this - when he angles himself so his tip is continuously hitting against that spongy spot inside you that makes your body weak. 

A string of ah ah ahs are leaving your mouth as he growls next to your face. “‘M cumming —”

His head falls back as he feels how your dripping pussy milks him dry, instantly following after as he buries himself deeper to make sure none of his cum drips out, “F-fuck. Good fuckin’ girl.” 

When he’s finished, Logan falls atop you in tiredness before rolling himself slightly to the side so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight. Pampering your tear-flushed cheeks with slow kisses - the feel of his beard burning onto your skin like a streak of fire.

“C’meback, sweet girl.” He whispers in a quiet voice, hoping you’d give in completely. 

And you do - you always do.

Moments later, he’d have you resting on his chest, fingers combing through your hair to calm you down from the noises inside your head.

You don’t have to know that he was the one who drove your date away. 

It’s a mistake that the boy called Logan’s number because he was so impatient to hear back from you. A goddamn mistake. 

Because of that, Logan became aware of his existence and tracks him down. Threatens the other guy to stay the fuck away from you. 

Poor guy almost pissed his pants in fright. Running away scared shitless after Logan let go of his collar. 

Logan doesn’t know when exactly he turned into this wild animal. A sick old fuck who’d do anything to keep you in his embrace. 

Why does it matter? Everything is in its right place now. He’ll make sure you’d never have to know about the things he’d do for you.

[starryjake]

teddy bear pajamas pt. 3 | l.h

part 1 part 2

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, car sex, fingering, tasting cum, unprotected sex, cumming inside, finger sucking, spitting (lmk if i missed anything!)

“a little more to the left.”

you huffed impatiently, moving the banner over to the left by just a smidge.

“too far,” jay said. “more to the right.”

you groaned, setting the banner down all together and climbing down from the ladder.

“i can’t believe you’re making me hang decorations for your party,” you guffawed. “what do i even get out of helping you?”

“you get to go to the party, duh,” your brother replied, grabbing the banner and climbing up the ladder himself.

“well i assumed that was a given considering i live here,” you retorted.

“well i’m not afraid to kick you to the curb if you don’t start getting the snacks ready,” jay responded.

rolling your eyes, you opened the refrigerator and started pulling out ingredients for the snack plate you were assigned to make for tonight. once you pulled out all the ingredients, you pulled out your phone, checking for a notification you hadn’t received.

“so,” you started, tucking your phone back away and trying to hide your disappointment, “are all your friends gonna be here tonight? like, all of them?”

jay was focused on stapling the banner in place, his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

“yeah, of course,” he responded, only half paying attention to you.

that was the only answer you needed though. it meant heeseung would be at the party tonight. heeseung, who fucked you in your bed the other night and then hadn’t contacted you a single time since.

you’d been glued to your phone, checking nonstop and waiting for him to text you, call you, like your instagram picture, anything. yet he’d been silent, and that crushed you.

seeing him tonight at the party scared you. would he ignore you? would he pretend nothing ever happened between you guys?

you had no idea what to expect, and you were terrified.

-

the party was in full blast. yours and jay’s shared apartment was more packed than you’d ever seen it before.

it was nearing midnight and you’d still yet to see heeseung. in fact, you hadn’t seen him or any of jay’s immediate friend group, which also included jake and sunghoon. you were relieved, but also anxious that he could appear in front of you at any moment.

you were in the kitchen fixing yourself a drink to help calm some of your anxieties when suddenly you heard the front door open, close, and then a loud eruption of cheers and conversation. the loudness and excitement of it all was enough to make your heart start thumping fast in your chest.

then you heard their voices, but it was too late for you to run out of the kitchen because there they were, walking right over to where you were at the drink station.

“hey, y/n,” jake greeted, pulling you into a tight hug.

your face was pressed against his chest, momentarily allowing you to catch your breath. you had to think fast about how you were going to approach heeseung.

“hey,” you replied, forcing a smile once you pulled back.

sunghoon greeted you next, ruffling your hair in a playful manner. you then turned to heeseung, who made eye contact with you, and then turned the other way to grab a drink, not saying a word.

you gulped, looking down at the floor. a wave of sadness overcame you because what he just did was all you needed to see to understand that he did regret what you two did, and now he wanted nothing to do with you.

you walked out of the kitchen and beelined straight for your bedroom. you didn’t want to leave the party, but you just needed a moment to collect yourself.

you little moment of peace ended up taking 30 minutes. it took you a while to muster up the courage to go back out there, but eventually you did.

the party had died down slightly, making it easier for you to walk down the hall and back into the main living space.

you took in your surroundings, first noticing your brother on the couch with an unfamiliar girl in his lap. a few feet away from them, sunghoon was dancing with some girl, and jake was playing beer pong with a group of people. heeseung was nowhere to be found.

your hopes were raised. you thought he must’ve left if he wasn’t around any of his friends.

with a slight hop in your step, you entered the kitchen to nibble on the snack plate you’d made earlier in the day. as you ate, you looked out the kitchen window which had a direct view of the balcony, and there he was.

he was standing outside by himself. his back was turned to you, but you knew it was him. he was leaning over the balcony railing, staring ahead at the city in front of him.

you weren’t sure what came over you. the alcohol, or maybe the rage that came with the fact he had been blatantly ignoring you after what occurred between you two the other night. but suddenly, you were opening the balcony door and joining him outside in the crisp late-fall air.

he turned around upon hearing the door slide open and was visibly surprised to find you standing there. it was unlike you to confront him, to confront anyone, but you were angry. you felt used and you wanted an explanation.

“oh,” he said. “hey.”

for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. you cursed how attractive he was in that moment because it’d rendered you speechless.

“hey,” you responded.

“how are you?” he asked.

“maybe you’d know if you’d bothered to text me,” you snapped.

you were shocked with yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. heeseung looked shocked for a moment as well, but then the guilt set in and took over his face.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed, leaning onto the balcony again. you crossed your arms and waited impatiently for whatever excuse he was going to pull. “i wanted to text you, i just…i got scared.”

“scared?” you repeated. “what’s so scary about me?”

“nothing,” heeseung said, turning his head to look at you. he then smiled a bit and shook his head. “there’s nothing scary at all about you…except the fact that i feel like i betrayed jay by sleeping with you.”

“he doesn’t know,” you assured.

“i know,” he replied, sighing. “that’s the bad part. i’m keeping this huge secret from him and i know he’ll be pissed if he finds out.”

“maybe not,” you shrugged.

heeseung gave you a look, which was deserved because not even you believed yourself. he was right in that jay would be very angry to find out heeseung had sex with you.

“well, you could’ve told me that instead of saying nothing,” you uttered quietly. “it felt like you just used me for what you wanted and then tossed me out when you were done.”

“no no no,” he hurriedly shook his head, planting his hands firmly on your arms and looking directly into your eyes. “that is not what happened, i promise you. i wanted to text you so bad and then when i saw you earlier tonight i just freaked out and didn’t know what to do. i’m so sorry, y/n.”

it was hard not for you to immediately forgive him with the way he was pleading to you and looking into your eyes so thoughtfully. you gulped, forcing your gaze on the ground.

“what now?” you asked.

“what do you mean?” he wondered, his hands still gripping your arms.

“are we ever gonna…” you trailed off, too embarrassed to speak.

“gonna what?” he asked, his thumbs starting to caress your skin. “do it again?”

you nodded shyly.

“do you wanna do it again?” he asked.

“i—i mean—yeah,” you sputtered out.

the corners of his lips turned upwards at that.

“come on, baby, let’s go for a drive.”

-

you weren’t entirely sure how you got in this position, how you ended up shirtless in the back of heeseung’s car dry humping his lap. but there you were, and you were already a moaning mess.

his hands were all over you, stroking and feeling your warm, smooth skin. he kissed your neck while your clothed lower half ground down on him.

he rolled his neck up to look at your face. it was somewhat difficult to see the details of your face in the darkness of the night and the darkness of the random deserted parking lot you were parked in. but he could see your eyes, your starry, glistening eyes.

“how are you this pretty?” he whispered, looking at you in pure awe.

you blushed, hiding your face in his chest. he rubbed your back, his entire body feeling like it was engulfed in flames, and then he really knew for sure that he had a real, genuine crush on his best friend’s sister.

you shifted off his lap, much to his disliking, and planted your hand on his bulge. he bit his lip, watching you stroke his outline over his pants. you smiled, watching the way his breathing got heavier even though you’d hardly touched him yet.

“heeseung,” you said, slowly sliding your hand into his jeans.

“yeah?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“i want you to fuck me in this car,” you told him, biting your lip to hold back your excited smile.

heeseung nearly fainted. you were so not the shy innocent thing he thought you were. you were lewd when you were turned on and he loved it. the more time he spent around you, the more perfect he discovered you were.

“fuck,” he swallowed, nodding. “okay. i’ll fuck you, baby. i’ll fuck my sweet girl as much as she wants.”

he hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down his legs, which was a lot harder than it should’ve been in the tight confines of his car.

eventually, he was left in his boxers. he watched as you pulled your own pants down, and once you were left in your underwear, he pulled you back into his lap. the lesser amount of fabric separating the two of you made it easier to feel his cock, feel how hard and heavy it was.

he leaned forward and attached his lips to your chest, sucking on your collarbones and moving down to your tits. he kissed each of your nipples, smiling against your chest at the way you shuddered and pushed your hips against his crotch, desperate for some friction where you needed it the most.

he lifted your hips up off of his lap momentarily to slide his boxers down his legs, leaving his lower half exposed. his cock, hard and eager as ever, sprang out and stood long, his tip glistening and shiny from spilled pre cum.

if the confines of the car weren’t so restricting, you would’ve leaned down and licked along his tip, getting a taste of his salty precum. instead, you trailed your fingers along his tip, gathering as much of the liquid as you could, and shoved them in your mouth, moaning at his taste.

heeseung grabbed your hips again and laid you down on his car’s leather seats. he positioned one of your legs over the back of the seat and the other one to the floor, spreading your legs the best he could in the limited space you were working with.

with your legs spread, he rubbed your clothed clit with his thumb, feeling the wetness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear.

he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your trembling, glistening pussy to him. he traced your hole with his middle finger before sliding it in. your hole sucked him in with ease from how aroused you were, how ready and willing you were to take him.

you moaned as loudly as you wanted since he was the only one who’d be able to hear it. you didn’t have to worry about your brother finding you guys since he was too busy hosting a party and probably had no idea that you guys had even left.

heeseung immediately slid in another finger and started massaging his fingers inside you. you let out soft little whimpers as you subtly humped your hips up, trying to fuck yourself down on his fingers. he had to take a breath to calm himself down, to keep himself from busting without even touching himself. you just looked too perfect like this, spread out in the back of his car letting him finger you.

once he felt like you were stretched and prepared enough to take him, heeseung pulled his fingers out of you. they were absolutely drenched in your arousal, so much so that when he spread his fingers apart, strings of your sticky witness webbed between them.

you turned your head to the side in embarrassment, missing it when heeseung used that same, wet hand to jerk himself off for a minute, covering his cock in your arousal, to get himself ready to be inside you.

he held your panties to the side again, about to position his cock with your hole and slide right in before he stopped himself.

“you ready, my baby?” he asked, tilting your face so you were looking at him.

“please,” you begged. “put it in, hee.”

it was what heeseung expected you to say, but he wanted to check anyway.

he chuckled breathily and slid his cock inside you, your hole taking him in so sweetly. it was warm and wet and unbelievably tight, just like he remembered it to be from the other night.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned out as he pushed himself in as deep as he could go, stopping once he bottomed out and your pelvises were pressed together.

you closed your eyes and a dizzy smile appeared on your face. he hadn’t even done a thing yet but you already felt so good, just to have him inside of you again. to have him all the way buried inside of you felt unbelievable.

“what’s that?” he asked, laughing softly. he tickled your cheek, making you open your eyes. “what’re you smiling about?”

“nothing,” you shook your head, refusing to tell him what had you smiling.

“you feelin’ good?” he wondered, rubbing your thigh assuringly.

you nodded. “need you to move.”

heeseung complied immediately, slowly pulling his cock out nearly all the way and pushing it back in. your walls enveloped him, stretching around his length and taking him like you were made for it.

his thrusts picked up quickly. you barely needed time to adjust since you were so wet and so absolutely needy for him. so, when he started fucking you hard enough that the car was shaking, you didn’t complain at all.

in fact, you were practically crying from the pleasure. moan after moan and curse after curse and whine after pleasured whine tumbled past your lips, so fucked out and far gone already.

heeseung held your thighs as he slammed his cock in and out of you, alternating between watching his cock disappear in and out of you and looking up at your pretty face. he opted for your face because your eyes were watery and your nose and cheeks were red, and you were even starting to drool, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. he was ruining you.

“f-feels so fucking good, heeseung,” you sobbed.

“yeah?” he said, suddenly pulling out.

you frowned up at him for suddenly putting a stop to your immense pleasure. to just pull out so suddenly like that, you almost got mad.

he took ahold of his cock in his hand and pressed it down against your pussy, grinding his hips back and forth and rubbing it along your slick folds. it felt so heavy on your pussy, so long and hard and perfect for you.

“oh…” you moaned out, watching his cock rub on your pussy.

he leaned down, unable to go a second longer without kissing you. you shoved your tongue into his mouth and he immediately rubbed his against yours, exchanging an excess amount of saliva.

“put your head back,” he commanded.

you tilted your head back, watching in fascination as he let a wad of spit slowly trickle from his mouth and land on your awaiting tongue. you swallowed it with a moan, pressing his warm body down onto yours. you wanted to be as close to him as possible. you wanted to feel his skin on your skin and never let him go.

“you’re so fucking hot,” you said, running your fingers through his fluffy hair.

heeseung left you with a peck on your lips before sitting back up so he could get back into the position of fucking you again.

kneeling, he re-entered you, sighing from how fucking good it felt every time. every time he first slid into you, it felt magical.

he began thrusting even quicker than before, licking his thumb before bringing it down to rub your clit. you moaned pathetically, your legs starting to shake and your toes starting to curl from the added pleasure.

“oh f-fuck, hee,” you cried out. “mmm, don’t stop! please please please!”

he could tell you were getting closer by your gummy walls clenching impossibly tight around him and your desperate words. luckily for you, he had no intention of stopping, only going harder.

he plummeted his cock into you, his tip hitting spots of you that were almost uncomfortably deep, but not quite.

you were shaking and writhing beneath him and he kept going and going, needing to see you cum because he knew it was going to be harder than any other time he’d witnessed before.

“hee,” you sobbed. “i’m gonna fucking cum. please, oh fuck!”

your legs tightened around his waist and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. your mouth opened in a silent scream as you started cumming around his dick and on his thumb, which was still rapidly fingering your clit.

“goddamn,” he growled, feeling the knot in his own stomach hint at unraveling.

you just looked too fucking unreal when you came. a tear trickled out of your eye, drool sliding shamelessly down your chin. you were such a perfect mess, he needed to fuck you full of his cum.

“oh, my sweet baby girl,” he said, still pounding you despite how hard you just came. “i’m gonna fuck you so full of my load, angel. you want that? you wanna feel all full of my—fuck—full of my cum? you wanna be filled, baby?”

“please, hee!” you begged, nails clawing down his back. “cum inside me, please. need it so bad.”

with a few more thrusts, heeseung finally stilled inside you and you could feel his warmth filling you up. streams of his cum overflowed inside you and you felt euphoric as you laid there and took it all for him.

he had his eyes shut tightly as he lightly thrusted his hips, riding out his orgasm and forcing out as much cum as he could. his grip on you was painfully tight, but you wouldn’t dare stop him now, not when he was cumming so beautifully.

he regretfully pulled out of you a moment later, watching in exhaustion and awe as his creamy white cum came spilling out of your used hole. he moved your underwear back to cover your pussy, watching the way his cum seeped through the fabric and spilled out the sides.

“fuck,” he muttered. “so messy ‘n pretty.”

he rubbed his fingers over the wet fabric, sliding them up and down your puffy folds. you moaned out, setting your hand on his wrist to stop him.

“sorry,” he said with a tired smile.

he handed you your clothes and while you got dressed, he dressed himself as well. there was cum all over his leather seats, but he would have to deal with that at another time.

“c’mere,” he urged once you were both finally calmed down.

you let him wrap his arm around you and kiss the top of your head, leaning into his shoulder tiredly.

“you did so good for me,” he told you. “do you want me to take you home? or do you wanna come to my place?”

that answer seemed quite obvious.

“your place,” you said.

“i was hoping you’d say that,” he said.

the two of you moved to the front seats where heeseung began driving in the direction of his apartment, his mind and his heart racing about what the two of you just did and what would happen next.

-

well! anyway…part 4?

thank you for reading!

[2tarbell]

vanilla birthday cake — send some dialogue 4 a short drabble with rafe + any of my !readers

mean!rafe + crybaby!reader “i don’t wanna know”

HAKSJSKSJKS

MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

participate in my bday celebration!!!

rafe had had just about enough. he wasn’t very patient to begin with but he was trying to be better — for her.

his poor little girlfriend that had a never ending supply of sorrow and tears. normally, around him, she was content as could be. and he was happy to indulge her and be the one to soothe her when external factors hurt her sensitive heart.

but she just wouldn’t stop crying.

today, she had to have set a new record. whimpering away next to him while rafe tried to get some work done on his computer. she knew better than to interrupt him when he was working, but crybaby just needed some attention. some love.

what if he was all quiet ‘cause he realized how annoying she was? what if—

“okay, what’s a-matter?”

her watery eyes flickered up to his deep blue and thundering ones.

rafe stared at her impatienty — fingers poised as if about to start typing. but his eyes held a question in them. an intensity that makes crybaby shrink into herself, eyes shifting and babbling for an answer while her shaky hands played with the buttons on her shirt.

“wha—? oh, um, s’nothing…”

not a good liar, but even worse at holding eye contact. rafe huffed and closed the laptop abruptly. he spread his legs further, setting the device somewhere beside him. she could be so difficult sometimes.

“kid, you’re over there, sniffin’ and shit — what’s the problem?” his voice was gruff and low, but so familiar and comforting in its own way. running a hand over his buzzed head in a way that always sent her heart racing.

“well, uh, i— i jus’— um…” the stuttered words came out clumsily, not a coherent thought in her head as she stared wide eyed at him. tears began to well anew.

“okay, okay— shut up. i don’t wanna know anymore, jus’— c’mere.”

god, she looked dumb with that look on her face. all frozen and tense as he tries to coax her closer. like a deer and a hunter.

rafe tilts his head to the side, a small smirk settling on his lips. he sees the moment she relaxes; eyes still wet and lip still trembling but she’s scooting closer nonetheless.

he scoops crybaby into his lap, strong arms circling her and pulling her into his chest. rafe sighs like it’s hard work — but the concerned furrow of his brow says otherwise.

she’s still sniffing, nuzzling her face further and further into his chest as she straddles him. trying to disappear fully into his warmth and affection. it’s like just being in his arms sends her into a daze. it’s made worse by his hand pulling her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

her rafe. that soft mumble only she’s privy to. his gentleness entirely reserved for her, for her moments of need. yet, she loves when he’s mean to her — in that dirty, knowing way he is. when her heart just feels so heavy and she doesn’t wanna think anymore. she craves that fuzziness only he can make her feel, a warmth pooling in her underwear. she needs it.

her voice is meek and barely audible when she huffs, “i jus’— today was so—”

rafe rolls his eyes, but tugs her closer. pressing firm kisses to her hairline and letting her ramble on about all the hard things she went through. she doesn’t register his wandering hands. it’s only when his fingertips are breaching her lace panties when she finally notices how he’s pushed her skirt up.

“hmf— rafey—”

her slickness makes a groan vibrate through his chest, fingers pressing forward until he’s prodding at that spongey spot just right. crybaby is hiccuping and sniffling again — eyes pitifully squeezed shut from the intrusion.

“shuddap, let daddy do this, yeah? getchu to stop whinin’ for once.”

based off this little thing i wrote!!!

[rabbitblackx]

AHASDBROFBDVSJ FINALLY!!! THE REQUEST I GOT!!!

Art the Clown sees his next victim (reader) and trying to make her uncomfortable only to get uno reversed so hard that he is doesn't know if he should kill her to end his misery or just swallow the pill and go fuck it and they become killer besties.

Art The Clown When Reader’s Weirdly Okay With Him

Art found you eating alone in a diner one night, slinking over to your booth with his trash bag over his shoulder. He slumped down across from you, glaring into your soul with his mad eyes. You glanced up from your food, a grin meeting your face. His scowl soon became a broad smile too, eyes wide as he silently stared. You only grinned bigger yourself.

You and Art both smiled at each other in an intense silence for about a minute. If anyone else was there, they’d certainly be creeped out. You got the impression he was trying to make you uncomfortable, but two could play it that game.

“Cute bag. Where’d you get it?” You joked, nodding to the trash bag of weapons next to him. Art just kept on smiling, holding insane eye contact. “You’re kinda cute too, ya know? I like the black and white.”

He waved your compliments off bashfully, fanning his white face as if it was going red. You giggled and kept egging him on, teasing and playfully flirting. Art was surprised by your nice demeanour and lack of fear, feeling entertained by it. You were way more fun to be around compared to his past victims. Too bad you had to die. :(

When you finished your meal and paid, you bid farewell and left the diner, but Art followed like a dog. You glanced over your shoulder as you walked down the dark streets, grinning at him.

“Hey, you coming along?”

Art nodded enthusiastically, shuffling behind you with his trash bag. You could still tell he was trying to freak you out, but you weren’t there yet.

“Okay then. Let’s go!” The clown kept following you down the quiet streets, anyone passing looking disturbed at his appearance. “You’re a good guard dog. You keep the creeps away!”

Art tilted his head at your remark, eyeing you in a funny way. Why weren’t you scared? Couldn’t you tell he was a creep himself? It was beginning to grow annoying how nonchalant you were about him. This was getting old. Scream and cry already!

Art kept following you, and debated grabbing a hammer from his bag. Your back was turned and no one was around. A good whack would do you good right about now! But he refrained.

The killer kinda liked your voice. It’d be a shame to cut your vocal cords, and you had probably been the nicest and funniest person to him yet. He wasn’t used to the kindness.

Art grew pissed. You were annoying! Be afraid! He poked your side angrily and you squeaked.

“Hey! What?”

He glared and pouted. You tilted your head with a playful grin.

“What’s the matter, boy?”

Okay, as frustrating as you were, he had to keep you. Art didn’t know why, but you cooing at him almost like he was a pet… kinda did something for him.

[reidswhre]

can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.

warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!

a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘

Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.

Except for Spencer.

Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.

Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.

“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.

You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.

Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."

"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.

"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.

Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.

"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.

"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.

"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.

You groaned and rested your head on the desk.

After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.

"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.

Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.

"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.

Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.

"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.

"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.

"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.

"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.

Second attempt.

You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.

"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.

"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.

"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"

"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.

You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!

"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.

"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.

"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.

You sighed.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.

You sighed again.

Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.

Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.

After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.

"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.

"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.

Great, now he was starting to notice things.

"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.

"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.

"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"

Awesome.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.

Double awesome.

"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.

"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"

Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"

"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."

"Of course you are!" You laughed.

"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."

"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.

"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.

"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.

"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.

Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.

Awesome.

You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.

Triple awesome.

Take that, silly mental scoreboard.

[multific]

Love Potion

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way.

His eyes always followed your every move.

You noticed it very early on just how much attention he was paying to you.

His eyes followed you everywhere.

No matter the place, time or occasion.

Let it be class or breakfast or lunch or dinner.

He always had an eye on you.

And you actually didn’t mind.

Mattheo is a very handsome guy. Even if everyone and even your instincts warned you about him, there was still something.

Something which kept you interested.

You felt a pull towards him.

A pull you never acted on.

So, it was mostly longing looks exchanged between you two, nothing more. 

One evening, you were having dinner with your friends.

Hermione talked about Ron and how stupid he was. Then you grabbed a bonbon and popped it into your mouth.

“Y/N NO!” you heard someone say but it was too late.

Amortentia.

Or as they called it, love potion. 

The entire room smelled like him. Amortentia tends to smell like the person you are in love with, you didn’t even realise. 

You were blind.

The room smelled like smoke, honey and wood.

You wanted to see him, kiss him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to eat it!” said one of the Hufflepuffs. “I was meant to prank my roommate!” 

While everyone was talking, you were quick to run off into the backyard of the school.

You had a pretty good idea of where to find Mattheo.

And surely enough, you found him by the trees smoking.

“RIDDLE!” you yelled, making him flinch and almost drop his cigarette.

“Y/N?”

“Kiss me! RIGHT NOW!”

“Are you drunk?”

“Just in love, come on.” you ran over to him, almost making him trip as you came in contact with him.

He grabbed you to save you from falling and this is when he noticed your eyes.

“Were you given something?”

“All I feel is looooove.” you said and smiled.

Mattheo noticed Hermione from the corner of his eyes.

“What happened to her?”

“A Hufflepuff gave her Amortentia.” she explained as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you back.

“Love potion? Why?”

“Forget this happened Riddle!” Hermione yelled back at Mattheo as you waved to him.

“Byeeee Matty!” he lifted his hand and gave you a small wave back. He was utterly confused.

—

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!” you yelled into your pillow once the potion wore off. “Why didn’t you stop me?!”

“I tried!” said Hermione.

“I want to die. I’m so embarrassed. At LEAST he was alone! Imagine if I did that in front of the school!”

“Well… on our way back to our rooms… you kinda… just a tiny little bit yelled in front of everyone passing by that Mattheo is yours and you will fight for your true love… kinda.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. No.” you shook your head but she nodded. “NO. PLEASE NO.”

“And… maybe… kinda… The Slytherins were also there? Maybe?”

“I am jumping out the window,” you said as you stood up and walked towards the window, Hermione grabbed your hand and pulled you back. “I want to die, please. This is so embarrassing!”

“The thing is that almost everyone like cheered for you. Malfoy even wanted to give you a high-five for being so brave. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he was for real. Then Theodore came up and said ‘Go get him, Tiger’ They were all cheering you on.”

“So, I’m the laughingstock of the entire school. Lovely.”

You fell back into your bed, face into the pillow. How will you face everyone tomorrow?

—

 “Mattheo Riddle! The lucky guy!” said Theodore as he hit Mattheo in the shoulder. “Having one of the prettiest girl scream and declare her love for you. Lucky you!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend.

Although he couldn’t sleep one bit for the entire night, his mind was way too busy.

“It was only a prank.” Mattheo said. It was the only logical explanation.

“Nope. You know Angie? The Hufflepuff girl? Nevermind… Apparently, she made some chocolate for her friend as a prank, but Y/N ended up eating one and it had Amortentia in it.” Mattheo looked at Theodore, trying to see if his friend was lying but he wasn’t.

“And how do you know that?”

“Angie told her friends and I heard it. They didn’t realize I was standing there. But lucky you, having a girlfriend! Don’t fuck it up tho! Or I might steal her.”

“Piss off.” Theodore laughed as they both entered the class.

Mattheo’s eyes immediately locked with yours. You looked scared as you looked away. He could only imagine how you were feeling.

But he was just as confused and embarrassed.

After classes, you wanted nothing more than to run back to your room and hide from everyone.

No one said a thing. But the looks they gave you, said it all.

You just wanted to get out.

You made it to the hallways when someone behind you called your name.

It was Mattheo, your eyes widened as you quickly darted into the girl’s bathroom.

“Y/N, I just want to talk.”

“Look I’m sorry what happened okay?! Please just forget it.”

Then he opened the door and came into the bathroom as you back away and walked into the sinks. 

“This is the girl’s bathroom what are you doing?”

“I need to know if, what you said is true. Did you mean any of it or was it the potion?”

“I-I.” you wanted to lie, you wish you were a better liar. All you could do was listen to your heart hammer in your chest. 

“So it’s true. What you said is all true… you do lo-”

“OKAY now, please, I’m embarrassed enough, I do not need your rejection, Riddle. Please can you just leave me alone?” you wanted to go into a stall and lock yourself for eternity.

“I thought you hated me.” he suddenly said and you looked at him, shocked. “I was watching you and… you always avoided my looks. Okay, not always but many times.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just agree to grab some butterbeer with me. That could be a start.”

“What?” you were so confused.

“I’m asking you on a date.”

“You are asking me on a date?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked as you turned your body back towards him.

“I thought you didn’t do… dates.” you sounded very nice, you worded it even more nicely.

“I don’t. But with you, I will.”

“So, what? You… like me too? After what I said and did yesterday?”

“It was very cute.”

“Cute? Which part exactly? When I yelled at you to kiss me or when I swore to kill whoever dares to go close to you?”

“Exactly.” he smirked. “I will wait for you, get ready for our date. An hour? Is that enough?”

“Okay. An hour.” he nodded and turned to leave.

You stood there, stunned when a voice behind you made you jump.

“How romantic!”

“Myrtle!”

“You have a date! Go get ready!” she yelled and you listened.

You got ready relatively quickly.

You debated not going, then you decided to give it a try and go.

Then, as you waited by the gates you were prepared for Mattheo not showing up.

Maybe this was his way of repaying you for embarrassing him?

But, he did show up. He did take you out to eat and drink and you did have a good time.

He did walk you back to your dorm and placed a small kiss on your cheek as a goodbye.

He did all that.

And if you only knew it would take a small amount of love potion for you to finally be with him, you would have eaten that piece of chocolate a long time ago. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[mattscoquette]

perv!matt watching you sleep

the soft lull of tv hummed quietly throughout the triplet’s living room, both you and nick sound asleep on the couch surrounded by a mountain of pillows and blankets.

it was nearing 3 am, and matt had been creeping from his room to the kitchen every so often to make sure you were most definitely asleep. he watched from the refrigerator as your chest rose and fell, your breathing rhythmic as you slept.

matt sauntered over to your end of the couch where you slept soundly, your small tank top beginning to ride up and expose your midriff. slowly, he sat himself down on the floor in front of you, eyes glued to the way your pajama hugged your hips, your shorts barely covering your legs and you tits practically spilling out of the top of your tank top. he drew in a shaky breath, his dick twitching underneath his pajama pants at the sight of you asleep.

as weird and creepy as he felt, he couldn’t stop himself from palming himself above his pants, biting on his bottom lip to hold in a groan. his clothed cock grew harder underneath his hand, aching to be taken care of. matt’s brows furrowed as he shakily brought his hand beneath his pajama pants, his dick heavy in his hand.

with slow and languid movements, matt stroked himself while he watched you. his eyes raked up and down your body, almost wanting to reach his left hand out and touch your leg or something.

his eyes fluttered shut, losing himself in the pleasure. he continued to work himself, growing closer and closer to his release, when he heard you stir slightly and sigh softly. his eyelids blinked open, being met with the sight of you looking back at him, your expression groggy.

his hand flew out from beneath his pants, his face turning red as he stammered. “f-fuck y/n i-”

you leaned forward towards matt with a sleepy grin, your tits practically in his face as you whispered into his ear.

“do you want me to help?”

he blinked up at you, his eyes wide, almost as if to ask if you were sure.

you drew your bottom lip between your teeth with a flirty grin, nodding as you sank down to your knees in front of him, slowly creeping your hand up and thigh and underneath his pajamas.

matt gasped when your hand made contact with his dick, your hands slowly wrapping around his length. your ran your thumb across his tip as it leaked with precum before beginning to slowly get him off. you sat up on your knees slightly, leaning up to talk softly into his ear.

“i know you like to watch me,” you said in a quiet voice, doing your best to not disturb nick who was on the other side of the couch, still asleep, “it kinda turns me on.”

he let out a whine, his cock twitching at your words. he brought his hands up to his mouth, trying his best to conceal his sounds.

you pulled back with a smile, still speaking lowly. “i see things missing from my room, i see my underwear draw messy,”

“s-shit,” matt whimpered, tossing his head back, “keep talking please.”

“ i know it’s you who’s creeping around,” you whispered in a sultry tone, “and i know how badly you wanna cum f’me right now.”

that was all it took for matt to come undone completely, whining and whimpering your name into his fist as he came all over your hand. his chest heaved with ragged breaths as he looked at you, completely in shock as to what just happened.

you smirked, leaning forward to plant a kiss to his neck before sliding back onto the couch, pulling the blankets over your body. “goodnight matt.”

© mattscoquette

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ perv!matt is soooo back i missed writing for this .. the way this has been sitting in my drafts collecting dust so i revisited it :)

[mxltifxnd0m]

cute glasses ◦◦ d. winchester

summary: your eyes are dry because of your contacts, so you have no choice but to put your glasses on

pairings: established dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', major fluff, some insecure thoughts, but mainly fluff

a/n: first official fic for dean!! also this was intentionally written as a blurb but as always, it seems i have more write than intended lol

please reblog and comment, i love to see your thoughts!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You had to fight the temptation to rub your eyes as you stared hard at your laptop, the screen emitting a blue light that was beginning to give you a headache alongside the dryness of your contacts as you sat at the table in the motel room. You blinked hard multiple times, trying to bring moisture to your contacts and find some relief from the dryness, but nothing was working.

You were still dressed in the FBI garb you had put on in the morning when you and Dean were going to the station to gather information on the hunt the two of you were working. Sam would have joined the two of you, but he had come down with a cold, and Dean forced him to stay back at the bunker while the two of you would work the hunt.

You glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, seeing that 10 minutes had passed since Dean went out to get dinner for you two. You threw your head back with a groan, feeling the soreness in your shoulders as you sat down and hunched over your laptop, researching for hours on end.

You stood up from the seat and stretched out your limbs like a cat waking up from a nap and stalking over to your bag to grab your pajamas and glasses, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get comfortable.

You jumped into the shower and rinsed off the day. After showering, you took out the dry contacts that were irritating your eyes, put them back into their case, and let out a sigh of relief when you blinked, and moisture was restored to your eyes.

You put on your glasses and strolled back into the room to find Dean sitting at the table and pulling the food out of the takeout bag.

"Took you long enough, sweetheart. I got us Chinese since there was a place I saw when driving in an-" He stopped talking as you crossed the room to see what he ordered.

"And what?" You asked him, looking at him with furrowed brows as you took in Dean's stunned expression, his mouth agape as his eyes flickered around and all over your face.

"You have glasses." Dean pointed out, blinking slowly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, yeah I do."

"Since when?"

"Since I was a freshman in high school." You told him as casually as you could, not wanting to make a big deal out of you wearing glasses.

"How come I've never seen you with them on?" Dean asked you with knitted brows.

"Err…" You trailed off. You didn't really want the boys to know you had glasses since you could be considered a liability if anything were to happen to your contacts or glasses. But hey, you've managed this long hunting with them, and you haven't died yet because of them. You just didn't want the boys to look down on you because you had them, and they could potentially hinder you in hunts.

"I wear contacts, and I try to keep them in for as long as I can until I can get back to my room and put my glasses on." You finally explained with a sheepish smile as you rubbed the back of your neck.

Dean's face turned into one of realization. "Is that why I sometimes feel you slip out of bed and then come back a couple of minutes later?"

You felt your face flush with heat as you nodded in response. Dean chuckled lightly at your embarrassment and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Then, a chaste peck on your lips before turning back to the food.

"You're not gonna ask me why I kept this from you?" You asked, confusion coloring your words as you saw him sit down in front of your closed laptop and dig into one of the takeout boxes with a plastic fork.

"Do you want me to?" Dean questioned through a mouthful of chow mein.

"Uh, not really. I was just ready for you to go all Spanish inquisition on me." You sat down across from him and looked through the takeout boxes before opening one of them to find the orange chicken.

Dean swallowed the food he was chewing. "Look, you had your reasons, and yeah, I have many questions about them but right now I just want to stare at you with them on."

You raised an eyebrow at him again. "You like them?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "You look beautiful with or without them on." Dean reached across the table and traded chow mein for the orange chicken box in your hands.

You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks flush with heat again before huffing an amused breath through your nose. You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned forward, taking Dean, who was still in his FBI suit, minus the jacket, tie, and a few of the buttons on his shirt unbuttoned.

"The glasses are doing something for you aren't they?" You teased him as you took a bite of the chow mein.

"Yeah, you have this sexy librarian thing going on. Could only imagine how much hotter you would have been if you left your FBI suit on." Dean's mouth pulled into a coy smirk, his green eyes alight with mischief and desire.

You chuckled as you shook your head. "Of course, you'd be into that."

Dean shrugged again as he popped a piece of orange chicken in his mouth.

Later, when the two of you finished eating and did a little more research and while you were doing your skincare, a sliver of worry still sat with you as you thought about how this would affect Dean and hunting. When you climbed into bed with Dean and placed your glasses on the nightstand, your world got a little blurry, but you could still see Dean's slight smile on his face as he pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Dean pressed a warm kiss on your forehead. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked lowly, his voice laced with care and fatigue.

"S'nothing." You shook your head.

"Come on, don't like seeing you like this before we go to bed." Dean squeezed your waist.

You sighed before propping your chin on his chest. "Just concerned that you might worry about me because of my bad eyesight."

Dean looked at you before leaning forward to press another kiss to your forehead and brought his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. You leaned into his warm touch, pressing a kiss into his palm.

"I'm always going to worry about you," He started, pausing before finding his following words.

"But you've been hunting with your contacts and glasses for a long time before you met me, and you've been able to keep up with me and Sam without us knowing. I don't care that you have glasses or contacts because you're still a damn good hunter."

You smiled at his words before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against Dean's full lips. Dean kissed you just as softly as you pressed your lips against yours and chased your lips as you pulled away.

You rested your forehead against his. "Thank you." You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you did.

"No problem, sweetheart. Let's get to bed, we've got a bastard to hunt."

You chuckled softly at his words and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before settling beside him and melting into his side as you guys slowly fell asleep, finding that your dreams were filled with Dean's joyous laughter and playful kisses.